#torn apart and eaten by lions

[geesuv]

My favourite story in the Machine of Death collection is one about an insurance salesman who was about ready to give up on life altogether when he took the Death Machine test and it told him he'd die by being "Torn Apart and Devoured by Lions." This completely turned his life around, he lived for tomorrow, thrilled by the idea of how interesting his life must become some day for him to be eaten by lions! He became his company's best salesman in the post-death machine world as he would tell his story to every customer and explain that while you might know your destination, you never know what might happen in the journey getting there!

everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -

enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.

and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends

[tmntxthings]

一∑ Collection of Lies・゜・。

author’s note: it’s high time for something slightly fluffy, not all the way, but kinda sorta, at least not dead on heart-stomping angst right??? RIGHT???

warnings: crack, cursing, gaslighting, manipulation, slight angst, sprinkle of fluff, attempt at dry humor, unedited

word association: compulsive liars, denial, heartbreak, telephone-game, sarcasm, dramatic flair

song: “ 50 Ways to Die by Train ”

—————————————————————————

When you thought the next couple of weeks were going to be rough. You didn’t think people were going to call you worried about fatal accidents. Not once did this happen. Not twice. An unreasonable amount of times did your friends call you up, texted you, or even barged into your humble abode to question your wellbeing.

It had been heartwarming at first. Cute afterwards. And quickly became annoying and overplayed later on.

You hadn’t been to the lair in a week. You were busy watching a show when Mikey called your phone that night. You answered on the second ring, before you could speak a word, Mikey could be heard wailing. So much so you had to bring the phone away from your ear. You put it on speaker instead.

“Mikey?!?” You shouted over his sobs.

“Y-y/n?!!???!!?” He sounded surprised that you had answered. “Is that really you???” He was all sniffles. “Uh, yeah, you called me!” You reminded him.

“But I thought you were in a plane crash!” He exasperated. You were stunned to say the least. “What???” Was all you could think of.

“You went to Tahiti or at least tried to! But the plane went down and you died!” Michelangelo expounded further, only furthering your confusion. “Mikey, none of those things happened. Who told you that??”

The line went silent for a moment.

A moment more.

“Hello???” You said into the receiver wondering if the call was still going.

“Still here! Hmm! Looks like I got some things mixed up, whoopsy! OH— gotta go Y/n it’s Hypno—“

And just like that the line was dead.

Now that last bit was nothing out of the usual. The turtles all seemed to be perfectly fine with calling you during odd times like fighting a villain.

What was not normal was the death assumption?!

Whatever!

…

The next day.

Donatello texted you.

[ Is it true that you got crushed in the back of a garbage truck? ]

[ .-. no. wtf? ]

[ Thought so. Thanks. ]

[ hey, you can’t just drop that bomb and dip! ]

[ donnie??? ]

[ akwkcjkwpifiowpwjdeppqoddjqk ]

He didn’t text you back until you had just dropped the topic completely.

But you’ll never guess what happened the day after that. April checked up on you! Visiting your apartment, when you had opened the door to greet her, her face instantly looked relieved! Like she was expecting the worse.

“Hey April?” Long into the visit you decided to ask what had been bugging you. “You didn’t hear anything weird like I’d died in a plane or garbage truck did you?” You were sure April had been asked weirder questions.

“No no nothing like that!” She assured. But her eyes darted away after holding contact for three seconds. Your eyes narrowed quickly. “But?” You threw out.

“…but I heard you fell into a pool of cement mix..”

Your eyebrows couldn’t raise any further. Conveniently. Too conveniently. A call buzzed April’s phone, saying it was her mom and she had to rush back home. She spoke over all your hurried questions and thrown out accusations.

This was getting fucking weird!

And Raph, the last person to check-up, had no hopes of getting out of your questions. Because when he landed on your fire escape. Tapping on your window. You didn’t say a peep until he got inside your room. And just as quickly as you let him in, you locked the windowsill. Now you knew Raph could easily break down the wall if he wanted to escape. But that was the thing, he hadn’t really wanted to. In fact he looked pretty torn up whenever you asked who had spread the rumor “that you had been eaten by a lion.”

A fucking. LION. Where in New York City would I—

“At the zoo!” Raph said tapping his index fingers together meekly.

“Raph, just tell me what I want to hear.”

You had a pretty good guess as to who was behind what now but you needed the affirmation that you weren’t just going batshit crazy.

“It’s…”

“Well…”

You wanted to pull out your hair!! He was being torturously slow. “Spit it out Raphala!”

“Ever since last week Leo’s been acting so weird! And every time we ask why you’re not hanging around or coming over he keeps giving us these weirdly detailed responses about…well how you died!” He says this in one big breath, like he couldn’t get it out fast enough.

You had clued in on it being Leo, but it was just too childish. All because you had broken up with him? He was going this far??

Raph watched as the gears in your head turned. As your expression grew harsher. He cleared his throat. “Ya know.. Raph thinks Leo’s pretty torn up about the whole thing. He won’t admit that you two broke up. He’ll say anything other than that.”

Oh boy had he. Raph thought it was helping to provide the list of lies Leo had fed them all this past week, ‘That you had:

Met a shark underwater,

Drowned in a hot tub,

Fried getting a suntan,

Struck by lightning,

Fell down a flight of stairs,

Caught in a mudslide,

Run over by a crappy minivan,

Danced to death at an east-side night club.’

By the time Raph noticed this wasn’t helping whatever case he was trying to build he coughed and went back on track. “What Raph is trying to say, is Leo’s in denial. Bad. What happened between you two?? If you don’t mind Raph asking..”

You sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s for his own good Raph, a case of the right person, wrong time.” Your eyes were set in stone on that one. Raph nodded in understanding. “A-and I didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings so I was pretty honest.. maybe brutally..”

You rubbed the back of your neck. You hadn’t wanted to give him any hope. As mean as that sounded. If he wanted a chance in the future with you, then he needed to seriously focus on himself for now. At least that’s what you had thought. Leo obviously didn’t agree. You smiled at his pranks now. Rolling your eyes at the drama of it all.

“I don’t want there to be any hard feelings Raph, especially between all of you.. Mikey, Donnie, April.. you guys are my friends!”

Raph gave you a soft smile. Nodding. “And you’re ours. He just needs more time. The lies were pretty unbelievable to begin with but ya know, we had to check just in case!” He gave you a teasing wink before standing and going over to the window. He unlocked it and you watched from your seat.

“Tell him, he’s being ridiculous!” You called as Raph gingerly maneuvered out of your window.

“Oh he knows that already.” Raph assured.

You got up, racing to the window to watch Raph take off to the building next door. “Tell him… he’ll be okay.” It was spoken low, but you knew Raph heard it as he jumped from your building to the next.

You closed the window. Locking it.

Wondering how many more ways you would die.

—————————————————————————

。・゜・。{ Leo’s POV }。・゜・。

He heard fractions of words.

His heart was paralyzed.

“…Meant to be…It’s me not you….For your own good…”

Words from your lips.

Hurting him. Stinging his heart and pride.

Whatever. He didn’t care. It’s cool.

How could you leave him??? The two of you were perfect! It was meant to be! You wanted space??? Fine! He’d go on like this never had happened in the first place.

So when his brothers asked where you were? Since ya know the two of you had been attached at the hip for so long! He lied. Lied recklessly. Lied habitually. Lied in detail with intensive background. He didn’t care as long as it meant he didn’t have to say the words “broken up.”

He’d never ever admit to that.

“Huh? Y/n? Oh she took a trip to the Sahara, Desert and dried up! Yeah just poof sand!”

Okay maybe they weren’t the best lies ever created. But it got the job done. It spelled out, “don’t ask.” And yet all his brothers kept doing was just that. Like they were expecting him to finally say something different.

Like he was going to say how disappointed he was. Not even in you. But in himself. For not changing, not seeing the signs, not doing enough before it was too late and now the consequences were at his shell.

Leo sighed, flipping a page of a Jupiter Jim comic without even really reading it. He wasn’t good at goodbyes. You knew that. Surely you knew this was how it would be. What was worse, Leo still wanted you. Wished for you to be back already. Missed you. He still had some of your things too! But until you saw the error you drastically made, or he somehow lost his big old ego! Things were at a standstill and he surely wouldn’t quit lying…

Until he ran out of them. That and ways to say ‘die.’

—————————————————————————

[acountrygirlsfun]

✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

@exhuastedpigeon tagged me today and for WIP Wednesday and Tease Tidbit Tuesday but today I finally have a snippet of my sentinel/guide au that I’m working on next 😁

We’re going back to season 2 (again) to how the boys meet but adding in a dash of enhanced senses and sentinel/guide shenanigans

Chim is in the middle of the story of a dentist being stalked and eaten by a lion at the LA Zoo when Eddie feels a strange buzz on his mental shields. He’s been making an effort to keep them as impenetrable as he can around so many new people and all the strangers they encounter on their calls. But it strangely feels like they’re stretching outwards, like when the hair on his arm lifts towards a staticky balloon. He shifts in his seat when the feeling dulls again leaving him even more confused.

Hen is talking about the zookeeper whose arm was torn apart and all Eddie wants to do is rub his hands up and down his own arms to get rid of the goosebumps. The itchy feeling fades completely after a couple moments and Eddie can finally focus back on the fate of the lion. They all look up at the sound of people walking up the steps into the loft and then immediately relax again when they see it’s just Buckley and Sanchez.

Eddie’s pretty good at getting a read on people when he first meets them. It’s one of the perks of his senses. It’s not foolproof by any means, but it’s definitely helpful since he’s picked a profession that involves a lot of other coworkers all interacting and working on the same team. It’s only been a few hours but he’s been able to get a loose impression of how people feel about him being there.

Mostly.

There are a few exceptions and one of them is 6’2” and currently looking in the refrigerator for a snack.

Tagging @exhuastedpigeon and anyone else who wants to play!

[justsomeditzyblonde]

Is this about how they put a pumpkin full of meat into a lions enclosure for enrichment? Is someone about to be torn apart and eaten?

two drinks in on tgirl board game night

[interpreterslinguistics]

Storm Mother, 12/1/23

What a whirlpool of emotions and new sensory data this all is, huh? Standing here on the cliffside, but like it’s been described before: in terms of horizontal length the space between my feet and the ocean is nothing. The Storm Mother ebbs at the ends of my consciousness, visions awakening to stormy seas with ships more decorative and alien than I have ever understood them to be before. The Sun burning into clouds, which look smothering and heavy like chlorine but are so fresh and free with salty air. The blurring of bubbles being both Sky and Ocean…

A wolf - I - pads to the beach. It’s ringing with the sounds of port activities, bells and seagulls, swaying, creaking wood. Children run past, adults bringing boxes and bits and pieces with rolled up pants avoiding the salt water. Salt water, salt air. The sky is olive green and ember orange.

Worksman, we all are. I feel her presence threaten to slide into the scene behind me like electricity hums in wires of a huge generator you’re not supposed to ever see the insides of. She’s a wolf rider, something heavy and inhuman, cracking the seams of reality like tight skin pushing apart failing clothing, like fierce eyes emerging from the shadow of a mask. Heavy footsteps, heavier rainfall.

In television and cinema, often the arrival of something huge is announced in the earthquake-esque pounding of steps, the rhythmic ripples across water, the sound before the sight. Here it’s drums - no, not drums plural, one drum, her own - the enormity rivaling the Earth Herself in the form of a human shorter than me… The heavy generator of power. Eagle feathers, raw meat. Electricity, the drive that makes muscles move. Did you know you can make dead animals move with salt?

The raw scream of what you hope is the mountain lion, the electric blood through a civilisation, the sting of acid causing muscle contraction; the polarised loops on the repeating lemniscate ring vision of God - a pause to draw it. Reverence towards details. A nun fervently mumbling prayers in ecstatic solitude, but her face, black void, no nun but the god of this -

We always get to this point where something needs to be done, something needs to be acted, to go any further. There is the scholar and there is the actor, there is knowledge in both the book and in the action, and to understand electricity you must embody in it. But that’s why I sit on the shore and look out at her. The world, her world, brims with knowledge under the seams. The brilliance of colours that are whispered about in iridescence, the wealth of the worlds of physics and light, in movement, in worship of Rhythm, of dance. In sound she calls, not written words. In pelts she dresses, torn from the flesh of animals (did you know pulling skins off muscle can cause those muscles to twitch?), not in stripes drawn on to fabric. In the water she rolls, not the mind. Always the electricity of the image, not in the image.

I have to sit, to lie down in the sturdiness of the sand as it’s stability is slowly eaten away by the flowing water - I imagine it to be, I want it to be. I am learning to swim again. The Ocean calls to me, sweet, seductive not as skin shown to the human but as flesh is to the wild maw, wild meat stew, churning underbelly of Creation… She has been evoked, the call echoed out to her, and her arrival is imminent. Eminent. Inevitable.

[tysonfurybattlepass]

I understand I already yelled a little in the tags under your most recent art, but I feel the need to yell still. Spades is 10 feet tall or larger. Massive. Curled up on the throne like this, in an empty space, he looks average sized or even small. His face is contorted into a scowl, but there's an element of something else there, an element of pain, sadness perhaps? As deadbeatdadjokes pointed out, he still keeps hold of the crown, even when he's trying to rest. Of course the throne is torn. The throne is torn apart. His life is torn apart. He can't escape from this even when he's trying to rest. His hatred follows him everywhere, constantly. As you said, he needs a melatonin to forget about his war crimes for a few hours. The only time he's peaceful.

Yeah, your art put me in a mood I just had to give you this mess and I am supposed to be asleep right now but I am not 😎

I AM HOLDING YOU SO GENTLY IN MY HANDS LIKE A BABY BIRD RIGHT NOW.

while i absolutely love hearing other people’s interpretations of what’s going on in my work, the emotion i drew into this image on purpose is fear.

i think what really captures me about this abhorrent character is the inherent and oxymoronic fragility of his position at the top of the food chain. apex predator is not an easy title to maintain for any significant period of time.

he is such a control freak to an unsustainable extent and so, so obsessed, he’ll gladly poison or trample everything and everyone around him with his own corrosive drive toward revenge until there’s nothing left. he knows everyone wants him gone. he knows theyre waiting for an opportunity to reenact that scene from lion king where the hyenas eat scar alive. his paranoia is deep set and destructive, but not necessarily unwarranted. he is alone, in constant danger, surrounded by people who want him dead, and it’s 100% his own fault.

this isnt the only instance of tragic irony the character represents. like spamton, king spade’s story is punctuated by an inability to break out of the role laid out for him by the narrative. he is a darkner, created and sustained only to act as a device for the advancement and entertainment of lightners. he’s one of the few darkners that actively fights against this admittedly pretty fucked up class system, and only due to some likely immense religious trauma associated with being left alone in the dark by an uncaring god that didnt even know he existed.

but, by rebuking the lightners he has merely colored his obsession with them differently, only succeeding in swapping religious adoration for seething acidic malice. even as he thrashes against the chains of predestiny and tries to flip the script, his identity is still fundamentally tied to the lightners he’s trying so hard to wrench free from. he does not see the issue with this because he is stupid<3

he also does not see the issue with being an insufferable prick to everybody around him for the sake of The Cause. he is well aware of the risks, and no doubt hardly sleeps more than an hour or two a night due to the constant threat of being fucking assassinated, but i think he thinks himself smart enough to weasel his way out of (or completely shit stomp) any potential uprising or coup. and he’s right. for a while at least.

fear is a powerful but fleeting motivator, and when it inevitably wears off and the smoke clears and everyone sees that you are alone at the top, you will be eaten by your own dogs.

[sadoeuphemist]

Inside the whale, Jonah held fast to his principles “Let me die,” he prayed incessantly. “Let me be judged by a just and righteous God who punishes the wicked and defiant. No more of these bullshit second chances! When the men who conspired against Daniel were thrown into the lions’ den themselves, did the lions cradle them gently in their bellies until they repented? Of course not! So withdraw your mercy from me, Lord! Undo this miracle! And let this fish devour me!”

He continued ranting like this in the darkness and the damp, until finally the whale responded. Its voice rose up from all round him in a warm convulsion of air, vibrated through its bones, undulated the flesh beneath him.

“Um, actually,” it said, “I’m a vegetarian.”

---

As it turned out, the whale was ancient, from a time before the Flood when animals had not yet known to eat flesh. Despite its great size, the whale subsisted solely on plankton, and carried Jonah with an intestinal tranquility as it floated through the seas.  

“I was meant to go to Nineveh, that cesspit of a city,” Jonah told it, huddling in his wet clothes, “prophesying destruction for their wickedness. But you know what’ll happen if I do? Finally faced with the threat of consequence, they’ll all whimper and repent, and God in all his endless mercy will forgive them.” He shook his dripping locks. “I’d rather die. How can generations of wickedness be forgiven, just like that? Better that Nineveh be razed to the ground, and I die here in your belly for my defiance.” 

“Hmm, that’s an awful bloodthirsty creed you go by,” remarked the whale, its voice rumbling through him like distant thunder. “As I see it, if Nineveh repents, that’s only a good thing! The city’s huge, there’s over a hundred twenty thousand animals living there. You want them all to die?”

Jonah snorted. “Animals? Who cares about the animals?”

“Well, I do,” said the whale, “seeing as how I’m an animal myself.”

“Animals die all the time,” said Jonah. “They slaughter those animals in Nineveh, you know? That’s what they’re for! Even in nature, wolf eats sheep, lion eats gazelle, big fish eats littler fish and so on. It’s a bloodthirsty world! Which is why mercy for the wicked should have no place in it!” 

“Doesn’t have to be so bloodthirsty, is my point. You’re a prophet. Don’t you believe the prophesies? The wolf dwelling with the lamb, the lion with the calf, both chewing contentedly on straw. A better world is possible. I should know. I’ve seen it! We can have a green grazing world of harmony once again, if we work towards it.”

Jonah sat fuming. “Fat lot of good that does for all the innocents here and now,” he said. “Explain to me why I should be spared - why a voracious empire built on corpses like Nineveh should be spared - while some sinless sparrow gets torn apart by the hawk’s talons.” 

“Listen,” said the whale. “I understand well the cruelty of the world. At the end of my days I myself shall be eaten by the Leviathan. I’m terrified of that, of course. The terror of his teeth, his burning eyes the last thing I’ll ever see. But even in that carnage there’s the knowledge that at least I will have gone to feed something greater than myself - that my body will stoke the furnace of his belly and form the brightness of his scales, and that his tail will thrash on and his splendor will go on undiminished, proof of the glory of the Lord.

“But if Nineveh dies, and all the animals and men and women and little children in it, well, what will be nourished by that?” 

Jonah sat in sullen silence.

“We must believe that a better world is possible,” implored the whale. “I am living proof of it! I float through the flashing silver-scaled oceans of the world, harming nothing and no one, and all around me the good green clouds of plankton serve for food. You must imagine it, brother! Every bird of the sky and every creature that swims in the seas and crawls on the earth, dwelling together in harmony, and every plant yielding seed and every tree and its fruit and every green plant given up to us for food in abundance! What’s the point of believing in God, if you can’t believe in that?”

---

After three days and nights inside the whale, Jonah relented, and vowed to fulfill his duty. The whale coughed him up onto dry land, and Jonah made his way to Nineveh, for a full day walked through the thronging city calling out that in forty days would be their destruction. As he had foreseen, they repented. All the Ninevites in the city, young and old (including the more than one hundred and twenty thousand animals) covered themselves in sackcloth and called on God’s mercy and fasted.

Jonah threw up his hands and shrugged and made his way out of Nineveh to the wastes, and set up camp there waiting to see what would happen.

The sun beat down relentlessly. God made a green gourd plant grow, with slender stems that climbed like vines, shooting up from the earth to grow gracefully until they were taller than a man, with broad cooling leaves that shaded Jonah, and he sat in the green and sunshine-dappled shadow of the leaves, and for the first time in a long time he was happy. And then God sent a worm to gnaw away at the roots of the plant, and it died.

Jonah woke the next day to find the plant withered. The sun blazed down on his scalp. A scorching wind swept over him. The broad smooth leaves were shriveled and brown, the stem crumbling and twisted. A fat satisfied worm lay at its roots, all the life of the plant gone into it, and Jonah looked down at the bloated pale thing, and screamed and howled to match the scorching east wind.

“You’re mad?” God said to him. “Is it right that you’re this angry about a plant?”

“It is!” said Jonah. His blood beat in his ears and he felt as though he might pass out. “I’m so mad I wish I were dead!”

“So you care about this plant, though you did nothing to tend it or make it grow. It sprung from the ground overnight, and died overnight. And yet should I not spare the great city of Nineveh, with over a hundred and twenty thousand people still too young to tell their right hand from their left - and just as many animals!” said God, and then relented. “It was a pretty good plant. You’re not wrong about that.”

[l0pp0]

Based off of your Luca Romantic headcanons post, could you write something where the reader takes care of Luca when he has a really bad headache?? Bonus points too if he feels sick from the headache as well ! Hope this isn’t too much to ask!

Ahh don’t don’t worry !! I hope this is alright ;; It isn’t shocking to know you’re gorgeous (o^^o)

CW: distress/pain/yelling Word Count: 1.2 k words

Headaches

Luca Balsa X Reader

A silver rectangle framed tray rested heavy in your palms. On top of the tray, was a portable feast of food. It was dinner yet Luca had never came down and eaten. A determined goal in your head, you approach your lover’s room. You knew he was frustrated by the sound of aggressive metallic chattering and disgruntled signs.

Up and down your eyes peer at the large wooden frame, balancing the platter on one hand your free hands reaches high for a polite tap against the door.

The smell of oil and metal radiated of the opening under the oak entrance. With a flick of your wrist, your knuckle knocked against the door. The texture of the polished wood was cold yet you knew his room was warmed by the flicker of candle fire and heated metal. One, two, three, knocks echo through the hallway like screaming on cliff hidden in mountains. A sudden stop in his work, you hear the shuffling of Luca approaching the door.

Soon, a shifting gear was heard from the inside of the room. The curved radiant handle turns in front of you, and the door opens inwards to reveal Luca. His posture crooked and hair stuck to his forehead in beads of sweat. His back was curved like a spoiled, rotten banana. He smelt nothing but fried wires and static. To a face that rested slightly annoyed immediately warmed up once he saw your features. He apologized for not coming down to eat when he notices the platter of consumables you’ve held. His gloves were contaminated with chemicals and spurts of hot embers. The gloves come off and he quickly kisses your cheek before inviting you into his room.

Past his shoulder lays a desktop filled with gears, tools, and a singular standing ivory white candle. With a lopsided smile on his face, he mentions how we was working on his inventions. Never a break in the life of someone so hard working. There are blueprints sprawled across the floor almost like a poorly misplaced carpet. Luca clears his brown wooden desk in hopes to make room for the tray you’ve brought him.

As screw drivers of different sizes and bolts get scooped up into bag, you watched as he hastily tried to clean up his work space. He wasn’t expecting you to come so soon, he would’ve made an effort to clean up much earlier if he knew you were coming right after dinner. He wants to impress you, as you’re someone he wanna looks good in front of.

Enough space is cleared on the oak surface; he’s proud he was able to clean up this quick in front of you. A miscellaneous chair is pulled out from the corner of his room, offering a seat for you to rest upon. He appreciates it so much you visited him immediately after dinner, pleasantly surprised you even bothered to bring a meal to him. The chair is placed relevantly close and faced towards his desk. You sit in the chiseled wooden seat, comfortably at home despite this not being your living space. The atmosphere is light and fluffy, like blowing in a dandy lion on a warm summer day. Slowly, as to not spill, you handed the late meal over to Luca.

The grandfather clocks ticks as the sound of shuffling and clinking of metal fills your ear drums. You worry if the food will run cold but Luca looks at you with a bright smile and a thumbs up sign. With thankful and hungry eyes, Luca receives the meal. Quickly thanking you as his stomach gives out a noticeable rumble.

Nonetheless after the grey platter is placed comfortably on his desk, he starts eating. A clink of plate rings as his utensils dance as he quickly consumed everything before him, as he’s eager to get back to his work. He uses his hand to cover his mouth as he talks to you. Laughter bounces of the rooms like a ball, subtle smiles that creep up on you both. As Luca was about to finish his last bite of his meal, once more his impending doom interrupts your shared peaceful moments.

In your chair you still sat, the flow of conversation seeming to ignore time itself a. Suddenly a blood curdling screams escaped Luca’s mouth in a rush of pressure. Silverware flies into the clouds as Luca slams a fist hard onto his desk. Bolts fall off the side of the platform and the sound of the hard slam amplifies in the boxed room. His hands, unsheathed from his oil stained gloves, gripped the sides of his head in desperation. Nails clawing at the throbbing skull. You were out in the chair, quickly rushing out to assist him in his pain. Quickly he collapses onto his knees and elbows, nails digging closer and closer into his head.

In such a short time mindless chatter was torn apart by the shouts of your beloved. Scare tears wet his cheeks in long slender streams. He wants to slam his head against the hardwood floor but he knows it’ll only make it worse. Why did this happen right now? He knows pains like these won’t wait till he’s ready, but he hates being in pain in front of you. He knows to pains you to see him in agony. Yet all he can do is hope for its end to be soon.

He doesn’t yell in particular just feeble attempts at releasing all the negative energy nipping at his brain with red pitchforks. You crouch next to him. The hard flooring supports your knees as you rub the back of Luca. Tear droplets tint the floor darker as his hands remain tense at the side of his noggin. Quickly you grip the each of his wrists and pull him up. You catch him and shuffling him over to his bed, while he desperately tries to escape your grasp in order to clutch his aching mind.

You both sit on his bed. The unorganized blankets and pillows flown astray. You hold your lover right, Luca’s back to your chest as subtle tears drop onto your hand. You dig your fingers into his forehead, and then his scalp. Skillfully hitting points that relieve his stress. It still hurts, for you to see in him pain. Yet you try your best and calm his pain down.

His headache lingers still, like a whispering ghost pecking at his ear. Yet your hands, your fingers, the way you massage his head is the oasis to his long tread in the dessert. He slinks back in your caress, your arms. The simple circles, the way his head clears a little more by every second, the way it just feels so right. Losing himself in the loving and caring touch such simple movements cause. His headache washes over, no more than a distant memory.

All that occupies his mind is not a black jagged scribble but the hypnotizing tender touch of your fingers. A tear escapes from his eye yet not of pain. He looks back at you with a wide smile as he hugs you tightly. The soft mattress shifts in weight as Luca practically jumps over to you for a hug. The warm embrace of his arms trap you in a rush of thankfulness and pure joy. Kisses pepper your cheeks in a rushed attack.

Everyday he learns one more thing to love about you.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

dude i just saw a video on tiktok of a cat accidentally stumbling into a big cat exhibit in a zoo that then proceeded to be torn apart and eaten alive.

and like 80% of the comments were people laughing and making jokes.

people like that are legit soulless subhumans. 

“it’s just nature bro. get over it.” aside from the fact that lions in a zoo tearing apart a domestic cat is not an accurate representation of “nature“, i get their point. obviously, i understand nature is brutal and cruel and violent. it’s kind of a central tenet of my worldview.

however, that doesn’t make it right or normal or cool to laugh and get pleasure from watching an innocent animal get mauled to death.

do i derive pleasure from watching rapists get stoned to death? yeah. maybe i do get a bit of a feeling of righteous joy in it. but watching innocent animals get killed and eaten, even knowing that it’s a part of “the circle of life”, has never once brought me pleasure. i understand it and accept it. but not once in my life have i ever gotten glee from watching a lion tear apart a gazelle, except maybe in the sense of admiring the majesty and power of the beasts, but i also always felt a little sad for the gazelle.

deriving pleasure from watching an animal suffer? fucking sick. it’s seriously one of the foulest things. it triggers something in me viscerally. it sends off every alarm in me that the person is a fucking soulless husk and my instinct is to kill them. as most of my followers know, i don’t believe in evil, but these sorts of people are close. wish i could be locked in a room with one of them and rip them apart. 

sometimes i fear i might legit be a psychopath or something because of my bloodlust, but “people” like this convince me i’m not.

[plainbrunettelbl]

(Shifter AU) Panther Aizawa Shota x Bobcat Reader x Lion Yamada Hizashi x Part of Their Pride (Chapter One)

Word count: 3032

Warnings: Tiny amount of cursing. 

Title: (Shifter AU) Panther Aizawa Shota x Bobcat Reader x Lion Yamada Hizashi x Part of Their Pride (Chapter One)

Summary: The boys are enjoying a quite afternoon when something catches Shota’s attention. His panther is eager to investigate. 

(Gif not mine) 

💤🎤-Shota and Hizashi were sitting on the front porch of their log cabin enjoying the quiet morning drinking coffee. Well, one of them was.

💤🎤-“I asked you if you wanted coffee and you said no!” Zashi defended, bringing his mug to his mouth and taking a sip. 

💤🎤-“You asked me right after you drowned the only cup of coffee in two pounds of sugar! You know I like mine black.” Shota glared, eyeing the sweet beverage.

💤🎤-“I told you we were running low on coffee and to make sure to pick some up when we come back to the cabin. And what happened? You forgot.” Zashi huffed, with narrowed eyes, he peered straight ahead at the lush tree line.

💤🎤-The log cabin was nestled in the middle of a thick forest.

💤🎤-In truth, they weren’t really mad at each other. They were just bickering a lot. It came with the territory of being in a relationship for so long. Even while they argued over coffee they were still snuggled up on the bench swing Zashi insisted on having installed.

💤🎤-A small sound caught Shota’s ear, his panther lazily lifted his large head. He was used to hearing the annoying chirps from the birds but this sound was different. He tilted his head in the direction of the forest.

💤🎤-“Do you hear that, babe?” Shota asked, looking at his mate. 

💤🎤-“Mm? I don’t hear anything.”

💤🎤-The small sound called out again. This time Zashi did hear it. The sound was a little more familiar to him. Since Shota was a panther shifter much like his animal half he tended to seclude himself and didn’t live within a pride growing up.

💤🎤-Zashi, having grown up in a pride, heard that sound quite often. It was a sound one made when a feline was in distress. He often heard it when he was surrounded by cubs calling out for their moms. His lion missed the sound, he had been thrown out of the pride after his father found out about his attraction to boys. 

💤🎤-You can’t be the leader of the lion pride if you didn’t have a harem of female lion shifters. He was fine with his small little pride, Shota and him. He was all he really needed. No one else mattered enough to him. 

💤🎤-“Sounds like someone’s in trouble.” Zashi pointed out, taking another sip of his too-sweet coffee. 

💤🎤-Shota pulled himself away from his mate's side and stood up, brushing off his sweatpants like they had dust on them despite the little amount of time they sat outside.

💤🎤-He pulled off his black v-neck shirt.

💤🎤-“Want me to come?” Zashi asked, sitting up and staring at his mate's chest.

💤🎤-“No, stay here and enjoy your coffee.” Shota threw a small smirk over his shoulder before shifting. 

💤🎤-A black panther stalked off into the forest.

***

💤🎤-Honestly, you didn’t even know how you got up here. One second you were holding back tears after getting rejected from another job offer and the next you had shifted and ran off into the forest.

💤🎤-You were okay for the most part but then you ended up getting stuck in a tree. You were still new to the whole shifter thing. You had been bitten by a bobcat while hiking and the next thing you knew you were turning into a small feline every now and then.

💤🎤-Shifters were common knowledge now after they came out to the world ten years ago.

💤🎤-Although they had made themselves known to the public they were still secretive and kept to themselves. That was the whole reason you moved to this shifter town in the first place.

💤🎤-You wanted to know how being a shifter would affect your life. You tried looking online but found close to nothing about living life as a shifter. So you took a chance and moved halfway across the country to a shifter town.

💤🎤-You had a little saved up so you have an apartment now all you needed was a job. Only no one seemed to want to hire you. You had spent a whole week applying and no one called you back.

💤🎤-The stress must have caused you to shift. Now here you were crying in a tree unable to get down.

💤🎤-Your cries stopped when you heard a branch snap from a tree nearby you. Your golden eyes snapped in that direction. A hulking black panther was latched onto a big tree branch.

💤🎤-Just as sudden as your cries stopped they started back up again. You backed yourself against the tree trunk and eyed the twenty-foot long jump down the tree. Should you take your chances?

💤🎤-You noticed the panther getting ready to launch itself onto your branch. You decided jumping down was a better option than getting eaten to death. Your small feet barley left the rough wood when suddenly you were being picked up by the scruff of your neck.

💤🎤-You went slack at the action. Even if you wanted to take a swipe at the large feline your body wouldn’t corporate, it was like he found your off switch. 

💤🎤-The panther jumped from tree to tree before finally reaching the forest floor. It must have looked comical the way you were swinging around in his mouth with every leap.

💤🎤-He relaxed his jaw and released you. You closed your eyes waiting for his sharp teeth to sink into your soft fur. Once a few seconds went by and you weren’t torn apart you opened your eyes and looked up at him.

💤🎤-His indifferent stare met your curious one. You noticed he had a large scar on his left eye. It made him look even bigger and scarier but he couldn’t be that bad considering he did save you. He could have left you stuck up in the tree. 

💤🎤-You let out a small chuff before letting yourself rub up on his front legs.

💤🎤-You almost fell when he started walking forward, he made sure to throw a look over his shoulder before walking away. He wanted you to follow him. You dashed off in his direction.

💤🎤-You spend the next few minutes nipping and playfully growling at him. He let you do what you wanted, not fazed by your playful mood. Lord knows his mate was a thousand times worse in his animal form.

💤🎤-It was only when you let out a small cry and whimper that he looked back at you. You had one of your front legs lifted off the ground. A thorny branch laying right next to you.

💤🎤-You hadn’t spent much time in your feline form so you didn’t have rough pads like your panther friend, he was able to walk on the thorns no problem.

💤🎤-The dark cat huffed before laying down and pulling you against his chest. He wasted no time letting his coarse tongue lick your injured leg. Once he was sure he got it out he stood up and grabbed you by your scruff again.

💤🎤-The walk back was taking way longer than he wanted.

💤🎤-Soon his intimidating frame was walking up the front yard. Zashi was standing on the porch waiting for him. 

💤🎤-“Aw! Who’s that cute little thing?” Zashi awed, over the small cat in his mate's mouth. 

💤🎤-Sho laid the feline at his mate's feet before shifting back. Zashi passed him his clothes before swatting down to look at the new arrival. He offered his hand so you could take in his scent. 

💤🎤-He seemed nice and friendly. Soon you were nuzzling his hand and legs much as you did with the giant panther. A small purr coming from you now and then. You about melted Zashi’s heart. 

💤🎤-“You think it is one of the cubs from town? Maybe they got lost?” Zashi looked up at his now dressed mate. 

💤🎤-“Beats me. I found them stuck in a tree. They nearly killed themselves trying to get away from me.” He pushed his long hair out of his face.  

💤🎤-“I would be scared too if I was their size and saw you coming.” Zashi chuckled, picking up the affectionate cub and walking inside the cabin. 

💤🎤-He walked you to the bathroom and sat you down on the wooden floor. You blinked up at him. You were too cute! His lion was purring at the adorable sight. The giant feline was more than ready to raise cubs.

💤🎤-“Do you know how to change back?” He asked, bending down with his hands on his knees. You merely twitched your nose at his question. You usually only changed back when your bobcat got tried. 

💤🎤-“Just picture yourself pushing your animal aside and focus on bringing forth your human. Don’t do it now though. Wait until after I bring you some clothes.” He smiled, before going to go get some clothes from the bedroom.  

💤🎤-He passed Shota in the kitchen on his way. 

💤🎤-“What are you doing? We already ate breakfast.” Zashi questioned, eyeing his mate cooking at the stove. 

💤🎤-“The cub is gonna be hungry coming out of a shift,” Shota replied, putting bacon in the pan. 

💤🎤-Zashi kept his lion from purring but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a huge smile on his face while he shuffled through his and Sho’s dresser. He knew his clothes would be best for the small cub. 

💤🎤-They would most likely still fall off their small frame. Nevertheless, he delivered the clothes and waited for them to change and come out of the restroom. While Sho was mixing up pancake batter Zashi was bouncing excitedly on the couch. 

💤🎤-The little feline was so adorable, he could only imagine what they looked like in human form. He was gonna have a hard time handing you over to your parents. He didn’t doubt that you had gotten under his mate's fur as well, with your cute golden eyes and adorable tail.  

💤🎤-He heard the door click open. He had a bright smile on his face ready to greet the little cub, only a young woman was standing in the bathroom doorway, dressed in his baggy clothes. 

💤🎤-“You’re not a cub.” Zashi gasped, looking at your mature figure. 

💤🎤-Shota paused he stirring to lean over the breakfast bar and looked over at the timid female. He almost dropped the bowl. His panther didn’t even know how to react. He had been certain you were a cub with the way you interacted with his panther. 

💤🎤-Only a carefree cub would rub up against his intimidating beast like he was their parent. 

💤🎤-“A cub?” You asked, tilting your head, you bunched the band shirt the blond gave you in your hands. 

💤🎤-Sho and Hizashi shot each other looks. What the heck is going on?

***

💤🎤-“So you were bitten?” Hizashi echoed, gently brushing out your tangled hair.  

💤🎤-He stood behind the couch running a comb through your hair. He would have liked to have you sit on the floor while he sat behind you but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

💤🎤-“Yes. I’m still pretty new to the whole shifter thing so I have the climbing thing down but not much else.” You explained, purring at his gentle touch on your head. 

💤🎤-“Are you almost done? The food is gonna get cold.” Sho’s called from the table. They might have already eaten breakfast before you showed up but it didn’t take much to convince a shifter to eat twice. 

💤🎤-He secretly didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable by being the only one eating.  

💤🎤-“Hold on, Sho. Not everyone doesn’t care that their hair looks like a rats nest.” Zashi tossed over his shoulder, snickering at his mate’s cold glare. 

💤🎤-Sho rolled his eyes before dishing out the breakfast. He made sure to put a little extra on your plate. After a few minutes, your hair was tangle-free and you were led over to the table.

💤🎤-The steaming pile of pancakes looked delicious but the portion size threw you off a bit. 

💤🎤-“Are you sure this is my plate? It’s a lot of food.” You asked, staring at the plate. 

💤🎤-“Yeah, it’s yours. We ate a little before we found you so we are eating light.” Zashi assured, already munching on the fried bacon. 

💤🎤-You looked at both their plates. They looked like a normal serving size for men of their size. 

💤🎤-“Light?” You repeated, really confused. 

💤🎤-Shota felt a small tingle of worry slide down his back. 

💤🎤-“How much do you usually eat in one meal?” He inquired, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his scruffy chin on his hands. 

💤🎤-“Mm.” You pondered, before deciding to just show them. The severing plates and pans were on the table so you just slide everything back on their dish. You left two pancakes on your plate, one strip of bacon, and a small handful of eggs. 

💤🎤-“About this much.” You informed, looking down at your plate. 

💤🎤-Zashi choked on his pancake. His lion was completely displeased with this news. Shota had the same look of shock and uneasiness on his face. His panther pacing at the mere thought of you starving yourself 

💤🎤-“Honey, that’s not good. You need to eat triple that every meal or you will wither away. No wonder your bobcat is still in its early stages.” Zashi gently reprimanded leaning over and pilling everything back on your plate. He might have added a bit more as well. 

💤🎤-“Why I feel fine? I get a little hungry throughout the day but I just thought that was normal.” You questioned, finally taking a bite of the fluffy pancakes. 

💤🎤-“Shifters need a lot of food to sustain themselves. We burn a lot of calories even if we don’t shift that day. Speaking of shifting, why did you shift knowing you still don’t have a handle controlling your animal?” Shota questioned, lifting a brow. 

💤🎤-“Oh, I think it was stress. I haven't been able to find a job yet and it has been weighing on me. I just moved to town so I don’t have a lot of connections.” You slumped in your chair, biting off a bit of bacon. 

💤🎤-Hizashi and Shota pass each other a look. You bounce glances at both of them. 

💤🎤-“What?” You hummed, scooping up some eggs. Shota was a good cook. 

💤🎤-“We kinda own a company in town. I am not saying we could give you a job but you can interview for our company if you want.” Zashi offered, sending you a warm smile. 

💤🎤-“Really? What type of positions are open?” You brightened, your heart lifting at the thought of getting a job. Your bobcat was also loving the idea of seeing them every day. 

💤🎤-“One the job that we have been needing to fill is an assistant for both of us.” Zashi glared at Shota. “The last one left crying.” 

💤🎤-Shota rolled his eyes, “She was only crying because I wouldn’t allow her to undress in my office.” 

💤🎤-You flushed at his sentence. No doubt they were both very handsome but you couldn’t picture someone blatantly throwing themselves at them.  

💤🎤-“Yeah, well I liked her. She made good coffee.” Zashi sighed, acting like he wasn’t prepared to maul the tall brunette every time she eye-fucked his mate. He was supposed to be the only one eye-fucking him. 

💤🎤-“Anyways, that position is still open and I believe we have a few others if you are interested in something else.” Zashi continued, hoping you would apply so he could see your adorable face every day. 

💤🎤-You simply thanked them for the opportunity before switching to lighter topics. Shota would chime in now and then poking fun at his blond lover. Zashi brightly talked about music when you asked about the band t-shirt he had given you. 

💤🎤-Soon your plate was wiped clean and it was time to head back to your apartment. The boys left to dress in something more suitable to wear before having you pile into the car. 

💤🎤-Once slow jazz song into the car ride and you were passed out in the back seat. Shota noticed your quiet figure and turned off the radio. He turned to his mate. 

💤🎤-“We are giving her a job right?” Shota bluntly asked, not beating around the bush. 

💤🎤-Zashi hummed and nodded his gaze staying focused on the dirt road and burred trees. 

💤🎤-“Yes. She is newly turned so it would be better for her to be around other feline shifters. You saw how she didn’t even know how much to put on her plate, she could use some guidance. From what she said she hasn’t been getting any job offers and as much as I don’t like to think about it, it could be because she is a feline shifter.” Zashi tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. 

💤🎤-Shota nodded, ”The town is mainly wolf and bear shifters so it wouldn’t be unlikely. They tend to want to stay within their packs. I’m just glad she didn’t apply for anything involving the cougar pride.” Shota’s voice darkened at the end. 

💤🎤-Zashi reaches over and took his love's hand. 

💤🎤-“None of that. Let’s just be glad we finally get an assistant, a cute one at that.” Hizashi grinned, sending his mate a wink. 

💤🎤-Shota rolled his eyes but the smirk on his face relayed his playful mood. 

💤🎤-“Should I be worried about you taking an interest in our new employee?” Shota teased, rubbing his thumb up and down Zashi’s hand. 

💤🎤-“Of course not babe! You know you are the only one for me!” Zashi reassured, blowing Sho a kiss. Shota chuckled, looking back into the rearview mirror. He was glad to see you had stayed asleep during their talk. 

💤🎤-They didn’t know that they would be eating their words in a few months. It would take them a while but they would realize what they felt for you was more than friendship. 

💤🎤-They wanted you part of their little pride.  

A shifter AU! I had this Shifter AU idea in my head for a while but I didn’t think I would be starting with Sho and Zashi. I had this idea come to me last night so hopefully you all like it! I do plan on making other parts so don’t worry! 💛🖤

Please reblog my work if you enjoy it, every reblog really motivates me to continue writing. Please leave a note as well! Thank you for reading! 💕💕

[littlegoldenbirdie]

Destroyah got underused

I came up with a post-GvD story idea once... but it wouldn’t quite be a kaiju story. It’d be more like a slasher film crossed with psychological horror, and it’d star, of all people, Miki Saegusa...

-------

It's hard for her to pinpoint when it starts. At first she wakes up from murky dreams feeling ravenously hungry, enough to demolish any food put in front of her and eat until she's absolutely sick. She actually does so at least a few times before she catches herself. As nights pass, she touches the mind of an animal and dreams of acting on the most basic instincts: Hunt. Kill. Feast. Grow. Lather, rinse, repeat, you know? It's small animals at first; mice, chipmunks and the like. She dreams of spurting blood, dying screeches, the taste of hot raw meat, red bones left behind. The prey gets bigger as the thing she dreams of grows bigger. As it grows, so too does its brain, its mind. Rabbits, raccoons (or whatever equivalent-sized critters they got in Japan) and the development of higher mental processes such as the awareness of time's passage, the development of hunting strategies beyond just jumping whatever comes close, the concept of past and future. Then comes memory, as the prey reaches dog size. Its mind, even as it grows, is far more alien to her than Godzilla's ever was, but it thinks. It is One now, but when it develops to the point where it can remember, it remembers being Many, feeling other minds alongside it, united in purpose, in a world far different than the one it finds itself in now. The world looms over it, EVERYTHING looms, and that is strange. Terror rips through her as her awareness of it is reflected back at her like a mirror. It has become aware of her. It is One, and that is wrong, it is not supposed to be One but it is, but now it feels Another out there. She's been following police reports of the discovery of the shredded corpses of animals, torn apart and fed on by an animal no one can identify. As the prey changes from largish animals to humans, she realizes the reports form a line, a beeline straight toward where she lives... It's around this time that the drive she feels from it changes from kill and eat to find the Other so it will no longer be One. It's coming for her. She goes to the police or JSDF or whoever would handle such things with her evidence and stuff and they believe her wholeheartedly 'cause she's probably like famous now and stuff. Meanwhile the butchered, mangled, EATEN bodies keep showing up in an advancing line, still coming closer to her. Is it a deranged man on a rampage? Some kind of animal they've never seen before? The corpses, with their cleaved-open flesh (A blade? Claws?) and bite marks like a lion crossed with a shark, aren't talking, save for the screams that precede their transition to corpse status. Death-shrieks in the night, disappearances with various non-meaty bits found strewn elsewhere, and a perpetrator no one has seen, that strikes and disappears in a way no man or animal should be able to do... Anyway, soldiers show up. Lots of them, with guns. Big guns. They all wait, to see what shows up...

It erupts into view with a mighty, almost-human screech, a crazed beast with wild eyes and fresh blood streaming from its snapping jaws and dripping from its dagger-like claws. Somehow it is Destoroyah in its final form, MUCH smaller than the last time they saw it but, well, still pretty darn big. Its carapace is deformed due to lacking enough food to properly fuel a raging metabolism, but that obviously wasn’t enough to stop it. There's a lot of yelling from the soldiers and guns are brought to bear on it, the guns mean nothing to it, but it DOES pause. It sees her, and for the first time since this started, the strangeness she experienced in her dreams occurs while she's awake. She knows that it sees her. A moment later, the thing lets out a higher-pitched, hoarse-sounding shriek and full-on lunges at her. All the soldiers open fire, tearing through its armor and turning its lunge into a slowed-down stagger, both looking each other dead in the eye and it's not going to be the one to break the stare-down, claws stretching out, reaching... Its bullet-riddled body falls dead at her feet JUUUST as its mind finally develops enough to think in words, words she can hear echoing in her mind...

Alone. Afraid. Help.

[whothehellisyn]

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Quentin Beck x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You found out who Mysterio really is behind closed doors. You’re about to learn just how dangerous a man seeking revenge can be when you get in his way. He’s a predator on the hunt. And you’re the prey.

Warnings: explicit sex, unreality and use of illusions, restrained sex, dubcon, Dark!Mysterio, predator/prey sexual dynamics, (almost) choking,

It’s still dark all around you but you don’t stop running, not even to familiarize yourself with newest illusion. You just keep fucking running hoping to get some distance between you and Quentin Beck. You wonder if it’s pointless to try and hide, he can probably see you right now, waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to pounce on you. You think you’re in the maze he showed in the display, but who knows anymore. Certainly not you. You’re turning endless corners, praying and hoping you don’t end up in a dead end. You can hear Quentin treading behind you, but you don’t know where or how far behind you he is.

It scares you to think he’s so capable of acting like a sweet and loving man and completely destroying your sense of reality moments later. You believed in Mysterio. In Quentin Beck. You cried when he retold the story of him losing his wife, his family. Of how powerless he felt to save them because of one unexpected final Elemental. You fucking cried of real sadness while he shed crocodile tears for a family that never existed in the first place.

It’s only been a few minutes but it feels like an eternity navigating this dumb fucking maze. You can’t see barely anything, let alone if you’re going the right way. So far you haven’t fucked up, and you take solace in that.

But then you hear it: multiple sets of footsteps. He’s using the illusion technology to find you. There could be dozens of Mysterios hunting you right now. You continue to navigate, listening hard for approaching steps as you run tiptoe. There are only two turns in the corridor you’re in and you pick the wrong one, falling into a body of water. What the hell even is this outside of the illusion? You swim around trying to find your way out and drink some along the way. It tastes clean, making you wonder if it’s a natural body of water or if it’s a pool of some sort. You realize the only way out is through the way you tumbled in and swim to it.

It’s hard to get to because of the depth of the water, but you manage to climb up into the maze again. You’re sopping wet, but hydrated and somewhat cleaner than before. Count your blessings, you suppose. Not a moment too soon are you so sure you’ve been punished for prematurely celebrating. It’s only seconds later when you feel him behind you.

“Found you.” Quentin says in a song-song tone, mere feet away. But just as he’s about to grab you, you dart into the other turn of the corridor, wet feet slapping against the ground. He’s close behind you, not quite running but not quite walking either. “I love a good chase!” He yells, with just a hint of exertion behind his tone. He’s working hard to keep up with you, clearly preferring hunting you down slowly to running up behind you now. You wonder if it’s part of his foreplay, if he needs to do this to get off.

And then it finally happens. You hit a dead end, and turn to see he’s blocking the only way out. Jesus fuck, Quentin is smiling like he’s about to devour you whole, with a gut-churning sexual glean in his eyes at the same time. You begin to cry, silently as he takes a step towards you. You back away, until you’re flat against the wall and then he’s right up against you. He leans in close to your face, and when you raise your hand up to strike him he grabs it tightly and turns you so your chest is against the wall, twisting your arm behind you. You squirm against his grip, but you’re just too weak to be able to get it loose.

“Now,” Quentin grunts, twisting your arm further to stop your squirming, “Good girls don’t have to be pliant. In fact, I don’t want you to be pliant. Not immediately of course.” You yelp in pain and he groans deeply, taking pleasure in your hurt. Quentin leans in close to you, forcing you to bear most of his weight. The armor presses into your wet clothes with an uncomfortable chill.

“I prefer this. You, fighting me. It makes it all the more worth it when I fuck it out of you every time.” A shiver rolls up your spine as his lips brush your ear as he adds, “And let me tell you, honey, I cannot wait to unravel you.”

You fight against him again with a more urgent panic, jerking around harder this time as adrenaline courses through you. You manage to get your arm loose from his grip and you elbow him in the ribs, hard. Quentin reels backwards in the pain but he’s also laughing, darkly and in no way cheerful. You run, you run and you don’t look back. You get three turns in when two mysterios grab you unexpectedly, and they take you forcefully by the wrists and pin you against the nearest wall. They’re twice as strong as Quentin is, though not nearly as dangerous. You swallow hard as he appears in front of you, not seeming too angry at the fact you tried to crack his ribs. You realize now that the elbowing has probably only encouraged him.

“That was fun.” He smirks, rubbing the spot where you had gotten him. “But now it’s my turn.”

Quentin takes this moment to look at you, scared and disheveled, before your shirt is torn away along with your bra, and you’re left topless and defenseless in front of him. He’s rubbing his cock through his suit, eyes dark with lust at your state. A lion appreciating its kill.

You let out a defeated and humiliated little sob as the two mysterios lift you higher against the wall by your wrists and your biceps so Quentin can tear your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. Your crotch is face level to him now, the two mysterios hovering as they keep you restrained. He pushes his face into your panties, and inhales your scent with a dark groan. It’s humiliating, and yet it feels titillating all the same.

Having had enough of smelling you, he pulls your underwear to the side unceremoniously to push his face in further, licking into you. You try to close your legs to stop him but his clones grab each of your knees and force them apart, and when you squirm more Quentin licks deeper and harder, clearly more turned on the more you resist.

“Please, stop...” You cry, unable to get away from his mouth. Your vocal protests do the same to egg him on and you realize this is a situation where you can’t win but you just. Can’t. Stop. Fighting. You haven’t stopped fighting against the mysterios, and they’re so much stronger than you, and you’re still weak from the running. But you don’t want to give up. Even when you can feel your body acclimating to Quentin’s mouth, your entire being softening to feel what’s being done to you. Your own body, betraying your terror. You think he knows it, too. He works harder and swirls his tongue around your clit, wanting to you to climax, needing you to climax.

You can’t stop fighting because you know part of you lies this. Even with how much you’d have preferred never knowing Quentin this way, of wanting to go back to when he would just take you to dinner in whatever country you were in, he feels good working his tongue on you. You’re horrified of who he really is, but part of you is drawn to him still. You’re disgusted by it. You hope it’s some sort of sick survival instinct and not just you. You hope.

You can feel yourself getting close to orgasm, reluctantly but all the same. You know you’d be enjoying this if it weren’t in the depths of his illusions, if you were back in his hotel room. If you were being eaten out like a fucking human being instead of a sexual meal for a dangerous predator. If Quentin Beck was really Mysterio.

He fucks you with his tongue as you climax, hard. He doesn’t stop until your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering and thrashing against him from overstimulation, and only because he can’t wait to finish off himself.

He waves his hand and you’re lowered enough that he can reach you, grab your hips and have the Mysterios support your legs for him. He starts fingering you, and though he starts with only one finger he’s clearly impatient to fuck you and it’s not long before he’s using two and three to stretch you to take his cock. You feel shame at the slickness he’s able to use from your own body and the sounds as he pumps in and out of you, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

The entire time he touches you he’s grinning, and humming to himself triumphantly. You’re a conquest to him. A prize he has taken or a piece of meat he’s appreciating. He uses his thumb to circle your clit, still sensitive, and you let out a overstimulated whine in response.

“God,” Quentin groans, fingering you faster, “I hope you sound like that when I’m inside you.” You cum again, shaking harder with it being so soon after the first orgasm. He starts pulling off parts of his suit, getting his cock out and rolling on a condom. At least he’s not trying to get your pregnant, you think. He’s hard already, and though you try not to look you realize he’s on the bigger side and if you don’t relax right the fuck now you’re going to get hurt. No matter how fucked up this is you’re going to have to take it, no matter how fucked up you are for wanting to take it.

“I can’t wait until you’re begging for my cock, honey.” He says, rubbing the head of his dick on your clit, against your vagina. “Until I own you and you don’t want anything else besides me.”

“Quentin please don’t, please—“ You try to beg, despite knowing its likely useless. He pushes inside you and doesn’t stop until he’s buried his cock to the base and he lets out a deep moan, dropping his head against your shoulder. A human at last. You let out a gasp, in shock from the sudden change in pressure inside you. The stretch makes you ache, the warmth inside you unpleasantly comfortable and betraying the atmosphere. It breaks you a little, knowing what you must look like. Getting fucked by a fake superhero in a fake, dark maze while his fake clones hold you up for him. The only thing real right now is your two bodies, pressed together. Reality at last.

He sets a quick and unforgiving pace, fucking you hard into the wall behind you. The grit digs into your back uncomfortable and you fight against him again in protest. Quentin isn’t having it, and he grabs your throat in response to force you to look at him.

“Tell me you’re a good girl.” He says, hips snapping into you. “Tell me who you belong to.” He squeezes your throat as a threat to say the right answer and a tear threatens to fall on your cheek with the shake.

“I’m your good girl Quentin.” You whimper, body strung out and breaking. “I’m yours.”

He moans again, louder. “That’s right. You’re fucking mine now.” He fucks you even harder, clearly chasing his own release supplied by your words.

“I’m going to break you until you’re nothing but fucking putty in my hands. Understand?” He’s close, you can tell. He’s trying hard to get just the right rhythm to cum. He reaches for your breasts and pinches one of your nipples to get you to answer.

“Yes, sir.” You yelp, twitching and arching away from the pain. It puts him over his limit and he cums with a guttural groan, stilling deep inside you. He just sits there for a minute, breathing heavily and you can feel his cock idling inside you. It’s a horrible and primal feeling, one of being marked and being used.

When he regains his composure minutes later, he slides out of you and the Mysterios drop you to the ground without ceremony. Once Quentin gets tucked back into his suit, he picks you up onto your feet. You feel so disgusting as he strokes your cheek sweetly, and smiles, “Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

While you stand there, arms crossed to shield your chest and shoulders haunched to protect yourself, you watch him change into the Mysterio character, just like that. He smiles at you sweetly, and your soul twinges at its near genuineness, aching for comfort after this ordeal. He claps his hands cheerfully, and puts an arm around you like he didn’t just obliterate your sense of reality and fuck you in a digital maze.

“Let’s go get dinner, shall we?”

—————

And that’s chapter 2! This is as far as I had saved up on my computer. Please by all means send me concrit and how you feel about this writing! I really only get the writing bug when I’m extremely tired so my sentence structure is quite poor, but rest assured I’ll edit tomorrow when I’m more awake.

[snowy-equinox]

Wolf Mother

Disclaimer: This is my UPG, mainly based off others’ experiences with Rhea and Hera, and Leto’s sacred animals

Rhea and Hera are commonly seen as motherhood deities, along with Leto. Each holds an aspect of motherhood within Her hands: Rhea is the nurturer, the protector. She is torn apart anew with each child eaten by Her husband, and She must part with Her youngest if He’s any hope to live. This last child, this last hope at motherhood, She gives up for His protection. 

Hera is the mentor and guide. She is the Queen of All, and each devotee is but another child to Her. She gives advice gathered from her ancient years, and She guides Her children, divine or not, throughout life. 

But Leto is not these things. Or at least, they are not what takes center stage. Leto is not the gentle cow that observes from afar, nor is She the strong and proud lion. 

Leto is the ravenous mongoose and the baying wolf. 

Leto is the rage of mothers whose daughters have been destroyed by the hands of men. She is the mother who slinks through shadows and attacks vipers with malice and ruthlessness, quick in Her movements and total in Her destruction. She will not be sated until the blood of all those venomous snakes soaks the ground. 

She is the various pains women feel, from the agonizing cramps of a daughter’s first bleeding to the excruciating fire of childbirth. She is the pressure that binds and crushes women, born from society’s contradictory rules. You hear Her howl and think She howls at Her lovely daughter, but you are wrong; She howls for them, for those curled up with heating pads in the dead of night and those who’ve been casualties in a war they didn’t get a choice in joining. 

She does not go quiet into the night. She is rage and pain and sorrow, all that comes with being a woman, being a mother.  Where did you think Artemis got it from? 

[transingthebourgeoisie]

I like how you made a post saying Christians should be torn apart and eaten by wild animals (and even tagged it with as many things as you could think of alongside “whatever the fuck gets you scum to see this”), and Christians responded by saying “God loves you and I will pray for you,” and then you played like you were the victim here. You instigated this, you wanted this, you started this!

You specifically should be eaten by lions

[tiggyloo]

Can’t Hold On - Chapter 3 - Patience

Okay this took longer than I was expecting it to fjdslghs but here’s chapter 3!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - FINAL

~~~~~

Ruby and Sapphire had told the others everything that happened when they had taken Steven to the fountain. They repeated everything that he had said to them—to Garnet. They all had to take a few days off after that revelation. Ruby and Sapphire still hadn’t been able to fuse. Steven had remained in his room ever since they got back that day. He very rarely came out now, only to use the bathroom, which was far less frequent now that he stopped eating and drinking almost entirely. He never said anything when he came out. The Gems had to bring him food, but he hardly touched it. At most half of it would be gone, but usually none of it was touched. He was at least drinking one glass of water every couple days though, which still wasn’t much but it was more than the food.

Amethyst was knocking on Steven’s door now. She’d called Greg and Connie over today, and the two wasted no time in showing up. Steven had refused to let either of them visit for two and a half months and Amethyst had had enough. She was torn apart over everything Ruby and Sapphire had told them, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing something for her friend. She’d already explained everything that went on the last several months-it took about three hours-and told Greg and Connie that they need to stay calm when seeing Steven. Sapphire had told Pearl and Amethyst that it seemed that when Steven started feeling strong negative emotions is when he would begin to lose control of himself.

“Come on, Steven, open up!” she said, continuing to knock on his door as Greg and Connie waited at the bottom of the stairs. She had been trying this for about ten minutes. “You know I can just get through the cat door! And we can warp in there too, there’s no point in ignoring me.”

The Gem knocked a few more times before throwing her hands up and saying, “Fine! Don’t open the door, we’re still coming in!” before turning around and descending the stairs.

The two guests had taken residence on the couch. Connie was hugging her bag and Greg was nervously tapping his foot, his shoulders tense and his fingers gripping the cushion. They looked over as Amethyst appeared with a groan.

“Come on, we’re taking the warp in,” she stated, arms crossed. The other two didn’t move and she huffed. “Let’s go! Chop, chop, we don’t have all day!”

Greg and Connie looked at each other before standing up. “Amethyst, are you…sure about this?” Greg asked as they joined the purple Gem. “I mean, after everything you told us, don’t you think this is…well, risky?”

“We want to see Steven really bad,” Connie added, clutching her bag tighter. “But we’re worried about this. He could react badly. I…I don’t know if I can stay as calm as you need me to.”

“Don’t you think I know that? But we need to try! Steven needs to be with someone. He says he wants to be alone but I know he’s lying. He doesn’t want us to see him, that’s it. But he doesn’t want to be alone. Just—just don’t stare. And don’t go running around either, or freaking out, or anything else. We can do this.”

She spun around and marched to the warp pad, and after a moment Connie and Greg followed.

The warp in Steven’s conservatory lit up and the three appeared on the platform. They didn’t see Steven, so he must have been in his main room. Lion was there, though, but he’d pulled his bed to the complete opposite side of the room, as far away from the stairs as possible. He rumbled when they showed up and crawled over to shove his head against Connie.

“Hey, Lion…are you okay, buddy?” she asked, swinging her bag over her shoulders and grabbing the big cat’s face. He growled gently and licked her wrist.

Amethyst showed up beside them and gave Lion a pat on the head. “He’s nervous, I think. Or scared? Maybe both,” she said. “Ever since this whole thing started he’s been avoiding Steven. I never really expected the big guy to abandon Steven like this but…I guess I can’t blame him, you know? It’s sad, though. I think it really hurt Steven.”

Lion nuzzled Amethyst before sulking back to his bed.

“I’m sure he just needs more time to get used to this,” Greg piped in, trying to sound optimistic. “Anyway, uh, how about we go see Steven?”

Amethyst just nodded and led them to the short flight of stairs out of the conservatory.

They found Steven on his bed in the dark with his window curtains closed, and with the night light on. Cat Steven was stretched out on the boy’s pillow, her tail gently tapping out a slow rhythm. Amethyst had told them what to expect but neither were truly prepared to see Steven like this. The spikes, the tail, the arms, it was all just so much to take in.

Amethyst went to turn the lights on and a quiet growl came from Steven’s throat when he heard her walking around. The lights flicked on then and the growl stopped as Steven curled tighter into himself.

“Steven!” Greg gasped and started to run over, but was quickly cut off by Amethyst.

“What did I tell you?” she hissed. The sudden noise from Greg must have agitated Steven, because he had started to growl again. Greg took a step back and looked toward his son, then back to Amethyst.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just…” He cleared his throat. It had just been so long since he had been able to see Steven that he acted without stopping to think. “…Sorry.”

Amethyst sighed and moved out of the way. With Greg calmed down, Steven also went quiet, and Greg continued over to the bed. Connie remained by the stairs as Greg sat on the bed above Steven’s head.

“Hey there, Schtu-ball, how ya’ been?” he asked, forcing himself to act as casually as possible, despite everything screaming in his head.

Steven didn’t answer, which Amethyst told them would likely be the case. Greg rubbed his neck and looked over to the Gem, who shrugged back. She really wanted this to go well, but she knew they couldn’t force anything. They had to be careful and take their time, and maybe give Steven just a small push.

“How are you able to be so…calm about this?” Connie asked, coming just a little closer to the group.

“I’m not; I’ve just been able to gather enough self control to look like I’m calm. Acting crazy won’t help Steven, I told you that,” Amethyst replied, waving her hand at the aforementioned teen. “We’ve all done enough of that already. I just think the best thing right now is to stay as chill as we can and take some time to be with him. Whether you want us to be here or not.” She directed the last part at Steven who just sighed in response.

Cat Steven mewed as Amethyst hopped onto the bed, annoyed at being disturbed so much. She stretched and jumped off the bed, then trotted over to and up the stairs to the conservatory. Connie watched the little cat leave before finally taking a spot on the bed as well, her hands tight around the straps of her bag. Amethyst was sitting at Steven’s feet, while Connie took the space behind him. He remained still.

Amethyst’s face fell as she looked down Steven’s body. There was nothing new, but the spikes, the claws, the horns, had all gotten longer. Not by much, but it was enough for her to notice.

Connie had started shuffling through her bag. Papers and pens and who knows what else rustled as she searched until she finally found what she’d been looking for.

A book.

“Hey, Steven,” she said, her voice cracking. She coughed and nervously leaned over Steven to hold the book where he could see it. “I brought this for you. It’s the first book in the spin-off series to The Unfamiliar Familiar. I know how excited you were when I told you about it, so I got it for you.”

Steven shifted slightly so that part of his face peeked out from behind his arms. He scanned the book cover for a few seconds before lifting his hand and gently pushing it back to Connie.

“You don’t want it?”

He shook his head and raised his hand further so that he could touch the cover with one of his claws. The visitors watched curiously as the corner of the paper cover separated from the rest as Steven dragged his claw down and the piece fell to the bed.

“…Oh, I get it. You’re worried you’ll tear the pages if you read it, right?” Connie asked, taking the book away.

“Mhm.”

“How about you read some of it to him?” Greg suggested. “After all, it’s nice to be read to every now and then.”

“That’s a great idea!” Connie said with a smile before adjusting into a more comfortable position. Reading would be a good way to keep her nerves from going haywire. She opened the book, cleared her throat, and started reading.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She read for about twenty minutes and managed to get through the first three chapters before she was cut off by Steven’s stomach growling. He let out a tiny groan when it happened and Connie put the book down.

Amethyst sighed. “Steven, have you eaten any of the food I’ve given you today?”

Steven shook his head. He pointed to where all the food was, in a corner of the room, untouched.

“Why haven’t you eaten anything?”

He shrugged. His stomach growled again.

“Do you want something to eat right now?”

He did nothing, then nodded.

“What do you have for him?” Greg asked as he gently ruffled his son’s hair. His brows furrowed when he took his hand away and he rubbed his fingers together. They felt very greasy. “Steven, when was the last time you got a bath?”

Steven muttered something that sounded like “three weeks”.

“That’s when Garnet…” Amethyst began, but her voice trailed off before she finished. “There’s a lot of stuff in the fridge for him,” she said instead. “Pearl left me instructions on how to make all of it since I’m not really…a good cook.”

Steven made a noise of agreement which made the others chuckle. “At least you still have some of your humor left,” Amethyst said, patting Steven’s leg.

“How about you two go make him something to eat and I’ll help him get washed up,” Greg suggested, getting off the bed. He turned and rubbed Steven’s arm. “Do you want to go downstairs yourself or do you want me to carry you down?”

Steven thought for a while before holding all four of his arms out toward his dad. Greg nodded and scooped the boy up into his arms, being careful to avoid the spikes on his back. “You’re doing great, Greg,” Amethyst told him before she and Connie also got off the bed. Steven clung to Greg’s t-shirt as they all walked down to the first floor of the house. It relieved Amethyst that this was all working out so well. She knew that bringing Connie and Greg over would help. The only thing is that she didn’t know how much it would help. That was something they’d just have to wait for. All they had to do was be patient.

Connie and Amethyst looked through the list of instructions Pearl left to find something to make while Greg took care of Steven. Pearl left…a lot of instructions, so it took quite some time to actually find something they thought Steven would want. They ended up picking some kind of vegetable stir-fry and got to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Steven wasn’t really cooperating all too well as Greg tried to give him a bath. He wasn’t fighting with Greg or anything, but he certainly wasn’t helping his dad either. He undressed without much of a fuss but now he was just sitting in the tub, leaning against the wall as Greg let the water fill up. His dad had tried to convince him to wash himself but Steven made it a point to ignore him, focusing his tired eyes on the faucet instead. Greg sighed and grabbed the washcloth off the shower rack.

“Amethyst told us about everything that’s been happening,” he said as he started to wash Steven off. “We had no idea how bad this had gotten. I mean, you haven’t really been talking to me or Connie for a while now. She’s been stopping by the car wash with her folks a lot recently too, wondering how you’ve been. ‘Course, I haven’t really been able to give much of an answer.”

Steven pushed the water around.

“Guess you’re still not in the mood for talking, eh, Schtu-ball?”

Steven simply shrugged again.

“Well, that’s alright. You don’t gotta talk if you don’t feel up for it.”

After about ten or fifteen minutes Steven had started to take some of the cleaning over from his dad. He grabbed the shampoo and silently began to wash his hair. He had to take a lot of time doing it though, because if he didn’t he’d hurt himself with his claws, or cut himself by rubbing against the horns sprouting from his forehead.. Steven had tried filing the claws before, but none of the files he had could even put a scratch on the nails. He hadn’t bothered with the horns.There were actually a number of scabs over his body where he’d accidentally cut himself already, too.

There was a long silence between the two. Steven had apparently finished with his hair (really, he just stopped in the middle of it) so Greg figured he’d just finish that part too. They had probably been in the bathroom for forty minutes by the time Greg finally was able to start rinsing all the soap off.

Steven closed his eyes and sighed. “What’s going to happen to me?” he asked, catching his dad off guard. “The Gems haven’t been able to find anything to help me…I’m just getting worse. I don’t want to hurt anyone, dad. I, I don’t—”

Steven sniffed and a tear ran down his cheek.

“You’re going to be okay, Steven. You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Greg told him, doing his best to be reassuring.

“Don’t lie to me!” Steven snapped at him and Greg pulled back, eyes wide, as the boy snarled with pointed teeth.

A look of shock took over Steven’s face a moment later and he slapped his hand over his mouth as more tears fell. He didn’t mean to yell. Why did he yell? He didn’t know.

Greg couldn’t come up with a response, so he just reached over and grabbed a towel after unplugging the drain. “Um…here, Steven. Dry yourself off and I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

Steven nodded and got out of the tub.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amethyst and Connie had been busy cutting up and frying the vegetables and the food was almost done when they heard Steven’s outburst from the bathroom. They looked at each other and Amethyst was about to check on the other two but was interrupted when Greg appeared.

“I-is everything okay?” the Gem asked, trotting over to the man. He scratched his chin and looked back to the door. “Greg!”

“Uh—y-yeah, everything’s fine. He’s okay,” Greg said, though his tone wasn’t very convincing. “Can you show me where his clothes are? I uh, noticed those…modifications on the dirty ones…can I assume Pearl did that?”

“Yeah, that was Pearl. I’ll show you where she put them. Connie, can you take care of the food?”

Connie gave a thumbs up in response. She went back to finishing up the stir-fry as Amethyst led Greg back up to Steven’s room. A few minutes later Amethyst was back with Connie and Greg was back with Steven.

“This is going way better than I was expecting,” Amethyst commented as Connie looked for the plates. “Too bad you guys can’t stay here all the time.” She sighed and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

“Amethyst…if this gets…worse, what’s going to happen?” Connie asked quietly. Amethyst looked to the floor.

“I’m not really sure. None of us are.”

“What if he turns into a monster? Like the other Gems had?” Connie asked next as she turned the stove off. “He doesn’t poof…and we already know the pool doesn’t work.”

Amethyst looked up to see Connie shaking. “Hey,” she said, pushing off the counter and going to Connie. “Listen. Whatever happens, we’ll figure something out. We’re not going to lose Steven, okay?”

Connie stood still for a few seconds before walking away from the stove. “Just put the food on the plate,” she muttered as she dragged her feet to the couch. Amethyst hastily did as she was told, placed the plate of food on the counter, and hurried over to Connie.

That’s when Steven and Greg came out of the bathroom. Amethyst looked over to them, then turned around and went back to the counter. Steven walked over as well, though he was looking at Connie while he did so. She was sitting with her knees hugged against her chest.

“Here, Steven. You don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want to, but maybe try to eat, like…most of it?” Amethyst said, placing the plate of food and some utensils in front of Steven as he sat at the counter. He sat without answering and pushed the food around the plate a bit before starting to eat. Greg sat next to him and patted his shoulder while Amethyst returned to the girl on the couch.

She sat next to her and gave her a nudge. “If it’s worth anything, you and Greg have been a huge help today. You guys were definitely what Steven needed right now. I couldn’t have gotten him out of his room by myself,” she said with a big smile. Connie looked down at the Gem and gave a little sigh before smiling back.

“I guess so…but still, it’s. Hard. To see him like this. Steven was always so happy and carefree. And now? Now he’s just…that.” Connie motioned over to him. They were talking quietly enough that Steven and Greg didn’t seem to hear them, which was probably a good thing. Connie didn’t exactly want Steven hearing this.

“You know, I almost didn’t come today. After you called I had a thought…that maybe I should just stay at my house. I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this…to see Steven like this. Really, I still don’t know. I don’t know how much longer I can put up this guise of ‘everything is okay and I’m definitely not literally about to have a panic attack’. I’m really glad us being here has gotten Steven to…do things. But what happens when we leave? What happens when Steven stops listening to us too? What happens when this all inevitably gets worse? We all know it will, so what will we do when it finally does happen?”

“…I don’t have an answer for you, Connie.”

“I know you don’t.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everyone was back in Steven’s room. The sun had gone down not long ago, and Connie had gone back to reading while Steven rested his head on her lap. His tail had started thumping against the bed as she read which was amusing to the others. It was a good sign though, because it meant he was feeling at least a little happier. And of course no one said anything about it, because then it would stop.

Connie had mentioned earlier that Greg should probably take her home soon, but when Steven heard that he looked distraught to say the least. He hadn’t said anything about it of course, but Connie called home all the same and her parents had allowed her to stay the night. She’d taken Lion back home after that so that she could get her stuff and be back as fast as possible as to not upset Steven. Greg had also decided to stay; after all he had to make sure Steven got a good breakfast.

Connie got about four more chapters into the book before Greg cut in.

“I think it’s about time you kids get some sleep, don’t you think?” he said from the floor. Connie hummed and stuck a bookmark between the pages and returned the book to her bag. Steven made a sound of disappointment and sat up as Greg stood. “There should be more than enough room on the couch for both of us.”

“That’ll be fine,” Connie said, turning to hop off the bed. She felt something pull on her shirt before she could get off and she looked back to see that Steven had grabbed her.

“C-can you stay with me…?”

That was the first thing he’d said to her all day. It broke her heart.

Connie looked over to Greg and Amethyst.

“Um…I guess that would be okay?” Amethyst said with a small shrug. “Could help.”

“I…don’t think it would be a problem as long as you’re okay with it,” Greg said to Connie. “There should be some extra blankets and stuff that you could use.”

The girl turned back to Steven as he released her shirt and she smiled at him. “Yeah, I can stay.”

With that decided Greg went and found the extra blankets and started to set them up next to Steven’s bed. Steven sat quietly on his mattress the whole time, watching.

Soon after Connie had finally settled into the blankets and Amethyst and Greg had left her and Steven in the glow of the night light. She was listening to Steven’s breathing, which was calm but uneven, coming from his bed. She heard him shift around every now and then and he’d huff before quieting down again. Poor Steven…

More moving around, more huffing. He was starting to sound less calm and more frustrated. Frustrated wasn’t good. Sapphire had told Amethyst that too much frustration caused changes. Quite a bit of time went by like this. Connie felt her heartbeat pick up. All of this, it was driving her insane. She was scared and worried and helpless as Steven grew more agitated.

More moving.

More huffing.

This time it was louder. Closer.

Connie felt the nest of blankets she was in fall under a new weight.

Steven had crawled off his bed and was nudging his way under the covers next to Connie. She stayed still and said nothing as he slowly arranged himself beside her, twisting and turning his body to keep his spikes from getting near her as he tried to get comfortable. Connie felt his breath against her forehead as he eventually managed to find a position that suited him.

Carefully, Connie moved her hand away from her chest. Her fingers brushed against Steven’s arm and she felt him pull it away. His skin had been cold and rough against her fingertips. Her hand moved upwards. Steven made a noise, a low, quiet rumble as his hand met Connie’s. His touch was warm and soft as he held onto her. He took in a deep breath and Connie could feel his whole body start to relax as he exhaled.

“I didn’t want to hurt you or dad,” the boy whispered into her hair. “I was scared, so I pushed you both away.”

“But, we’re here now, even if you didn’t want us to be. Even if you still don’t.”

“I’m sorry…”

Connie moved a few inches closer and rested her head beneath Steven’s chin. She heard the rumble come back and felt a cold hand move to rest on her waist. The noise slowly faded as Steven drifted off and Connie closed her eyes.

Steven couldn’t be fixed. She knew this. She heard it in his voice, felt it in the rumble of his chest. The boy was slipping away.

No amount of love and patience would make this stop.

[madpanda75]

“As Long As You Love Me” Part One

A song fic hosted by @thefanficfaerie for her Backstreets Back Challenge. I chose “As Long As You Love Me” and now that song is forever in my head. Two will be posted tomorrow. A HUGE shoutout to @sass-and-suspenders​ for being my support while I wrote this angsty novella and for giving me the brilliant idea in the first place! 😘 

Warning: Long fic (4000ish words)

Story takes place during “Undiscovered Country.” Yes, THAT episode...you know the one

Rafael sat in the back of the classroom, biting back a smirk as he watched you deliver your closing argument for a mock trial, wiping the floor with the prosecution team. As a favor to a friend, he was guest lecturing for a semester at Columbia University.

“Mr. Barba, the evidence presented by the prosecution is weak and circumstantial at best. Mr. Haines had done odd jobs and worked as a gardener for Mrs. Ellis which explains why his muddy footprints, and his blood from an injury sustained on the job were found at the crime scene. Furthermore, the coroner’s report stated that time of death was between 5pm and 7pm on the evening of May 20th. My client was four hours away at a family reunion in Boston and it was confirmed by multiple people that he was present the entire time. Does the prosecution really expect us to believe that Mr. Haines drove four hours back to Mrs. Ellis’ home, in rush hour traffic no less, murdered her in cold blood, buried her body, hid the weapon, cleaned himself up, then drove four hours back to Boston in time for s’mores around the campfire with his cousins?”

Even though he knew you already won, Rafael sat quietly, pursing his lips as he pretended to deliberate over your argument. After a moment he walked to the front of the class, a smile slowly spread across his face, “Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N. I believe you just won your case.”

You beamed, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet before looking over at the prosecution team, who were less than enthused. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “It was a good try.”

After your victory, Rafael dismissed everyone. It was the last day of class and students couldn’t get out fast enough, excited to celebrate after a long hard semester. You took your time, packing up your things, hoping to get a chance to speak with your guest professor.

Rafael was confident and sexy. You had never known anyone to discuss torts and mens rea with as much passion and fire as he did. He was mesmerizing, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

Once the classroom was empty, you walked up to him, unable to conceal the blush forming on your cheeks. “Thanks for a great class, Mr. Barba. I really learned a lot under you.” You closed your eyes, shaking your head upon realizing your innuendo. “I mean not under you...but…ummm you were hard and I liked that. Well...not hard that way...not in the sense that I thought you had an erection...but..ummm..” You rambled on, digging yourself into a bigger hole, your pink tinged cheeks turning beet red. “And you want to be a lawyer? You can barely form a sentence,” you thought to yourself.

Rafael laughed, you had caught his eye since the first day of class. You were brilliant with razor sharp focus and not to mention beautiful. No other woman had ever made his heart skip a beat the way you did, not even Yelina.  “I know what you meant, Ms. Y/L/N. Congratulations on winning your case today. Ever think about becoming a prosecutor?”

“I thought about it, but I really want to pursue human rights. Working with NGOs or non-profits.”

“An admirable career,” he smiled at you, clenching his fist to keep from tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Whatever you pursue, I know you’ll be an amazing lawyer.”

“Thanks,” you softly said. Letting out a deep breath, you decided to be bold. “So even though I’m going into an entirely different field of the law. I’d love to know what the day to day life of being a lawyer is really like. Maybe if you’re free we could grab coffee or something and I can pick your brain.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, a smirk firmly planted on his face, “Are you asking me out, Ms. Y/L/N?”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest, “Can I plead the fifth?”

He subtly looked you over before glancing down at his watch, “As of 5 minutes ago, I’m no longer your teacher so how about instead of coffee, we grab dinner?”

You shyly smiled, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, “I’m free now, if you are?”

“Well then let’s go,” he said, grabbing his briefcase and jacket, leading you out of the classroom.

***

You paced the living room floor, worrying your bottom lip as you dialed Rafael’s number. The sounds of the city that never sleeps could be heard from outside your apartment, but all you wanted to hear in that moment was your boyfriend’s voice on the other line. Instead you got his voicemail. You sighed in frustration, waiting for the obligatory beep to leave a message.

“Hey, mi amor, can you call me back when you get this. You were supposed to be home from the hospital 2 hours ago. I’m not trying to be a nag, I’m just worried about you.”

Hanging up the phone, you plopped down on the couch. Something was wrong. You could feel it deep in the pit of your stomach. Over the past few months, Rafael had been struggling with his cases, often coming home late at night with the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders.

This recent case in particular hit the ADA hard. You remember him reluctantly telling you about the mother and father standing on opposite sides of the fence, each believing they knew the right choice to make for their dying child.

You knew Rafael was torn over prosecuting the case. It brought back memories of when he was in a similar situation, ultimately deciding not to end his own father’s suffering when he was put on life support. You felt helpless, watching the man you love being eaten away at by his job, tormented by the decisions he had to make. If he even could make those decisions sans bias sans judgement.

Lady Justice may be blind, but looking at that dying beautiful baby boy and his heartbroken parents, Rafael wanted nothing more than to rip the blindfold off. But as Jack McCoy said, they were not in the compassion business.

You were about to call him again when the sound of the apartment door opening stole your attention away from the phone. “Raf? Is that you?” You leapt off the couch and ran to the foyer. “Are you ok? I’ve been calling non-stop. Why didn’t you pick up your--”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw your boyfriend. His appearance shook you to the core. A mixture of sadness and fear etched in his face. His eyes slightly wild and glossy with tears. A shroud of darkness looming over him.

“Raf, what’s wrong?” You softly asked.

Rafael stared at the ground, studying the hardwood floor, shaking his head. “I did it,” he whispered.

“Did what?” Your mouth went dry as you took a cautious step towards him, like you would approach a wounded frightened animal. “Mi amor, what did you do?”

“I turned off the machine. I...ended his…suffering. I had to do it. I had --” he looked up at you, his eyes vacant for a second before a look of shock slowly spread across his face. “Dear God, what have I done? What have I done? What have I done?” In an instant, Rafael collapsed to his knees, his body wracked by sobs.

You ran to him, holding him close as he cried, clutching fistfuls of your shirt in his hands. Rafael, the man who was a lion in the courtroom, fierce and commanding, was falling apart in your arms. You rocked him back and forth like a child, running your hand through his hair, trying to soothe him as best you could.

Eventually, you both made it to the bedroom. Rafael laid his head on your chest, telling you everything that had happened. About how the judge needed to appoint a guardian ad litem, the prolonged pain Drew experienced every day of his life, the agony his mother felt, how he told her to leave the room, Bach’s cantatas, the orange roses, the peace after so much suffering, the silence afterwards.

Rafael was sensible, pragmatic, he knew what the law and the potential repercussions of his actions. You didn’t necessarily agree with what he did, but you understood why he did it. Tears ran down your cheeks as you listened, holding him even tighter, whispering that everything was going to be ok over and over again. It was the only thing you could do as the two of you cried together in the dark.

***

The next morning you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb Rafael. After a long and restless night, he had finally managed to fall asleep. Sipping on your coffee, you sat at the breakfast bar while typing an email when he came into the kitchen.

“Hi,” you softly smiled at him. “How are you feeling?”

He didn’t respond, choosing instead to pour himself a cup of coffee. You watched as he sipped from his Harvard Law mug while flipping through the New York Times. It was unsettling, the way he was acting as if nothing happened the night before.

“I told my boss I would be out today,” you said. “I thought we could talk, spend the day together. Maybe figure out what the next steps are.”

Rafael set the paper down, moving to rinse out his mug in the sink. “I can’t. I have a meeting at the D.A.’s office and then I’m going to meet that lawyer, Dworkin. He defended Byron Marks, the rapist Fin tracked down in Cuba. He’s repugnant, but I think he’ll be a good lawyer to represent me if they plan to indict.”

You stared at him, your mouth agape, hearing him talk about picking a defense attorney to represent him as casually as if he were debating whether to wear his polka dotted suspenders or striped ones. “Can I at least come with you? We can talk to Dworkin together.”

He shook his head, giving you a chaste peck on the cheek. “Thanks for the offer, but I should go on my own.” He walked down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, “I won’t be late.”

You sat there for a minute before walking into the bedroom, Rafael was already in the shower. You bit your lip, your hand hovering over the doorknob to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to burst right in and demand he talk to you. With a sigh, you dropped your hand and walked to the closet to get dressed, unable to muster the courage. “Maybe he needs some time to process everything?” You thought as you picked out an outfit. “He’ll be fine. We’ll get through this together.”

***

It had been a rough month. Rafael had been placed on administrative leave by the D.A.’s office until the trial. If he wasn’t wandering around the apartment aimlessly, he would be out working with Dworkin on his case or meeting with Olivia, always keeping you at arm’s length. He had completely shut you out. Apart from the polite exchange of pleasantries and small talk, he would say nothing more to you about how he was feeling. Now with the trial only a week away, the tension was palpable, hanging heavy in the air.

Hoping to relieve some of that tension, you thought a night out would help your boyfriend let loose and forget about his troubles. Tonight the law firm you worked at was hosting its annual charity dinner. You and Rafael always attended, drinking and socializing. You were considered the “It” couple, the sharp tongued, handsome ADA and the gorgeous human rights lawyer.

Rafael aimlessly flipped through channels, waiting for you to get dressed. “Y/N, are you almost ready? We’re going to be late.”

“I’ll be right there,” you shouted from the bedroom.

He sighed and turned off the TV, hearing a rustling of paper beside him. Looking down, he spied a newspaper stuck between two couch cushions. He grabbed the paper only to see a picture of him standing on the courthouse steps surrounded by reporters, his face grim and solemn. Above the picture was a title that read, “ADA Murder Trial in One Week.” Rafael audibly swallowed as he skimmed the article. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and keep his hands from shaking even more than they already were.

You came upon the scene and froze, silently cursing yourself for not throwing away that damn newspaper. Nervously shifting from foot to foot, you cleared your throat to get his attention, “I’m ready.”

He looked back and gave you a tight smile, getting up to grab his coat. You gripped his arm, pulling him back to you. “Ya know, we don’t have to go tonight,” you said, adjusting his bow tie. “We could just cancel. Stay in, relax, get naked,” you purred, kissing his jaw. Although sex was the furthest thing from your mind, at least it would be some sort of connection with Rafael.

“No, it’s ok. We should go,” he turned towards the door, leaving you no choice but to follow him.

***

You sipped on your wine, making small talk with Gary, your paralegal, catching Rafael’s eye from across the room as he sat at your table, drinking his scotch. Throughout the evening, he tried to avoid talking or being around as many people as possible, afraid that someone would bring up the trial.

As the band began to play soft music, you were finally able to tear yourself away from Gary and make your way back to your boyfriend. “So tell me, what’s a girl gotta do to steal a dance with the sexiest man in the room?”

Rafael chuckled, tipping his glass, watching the amber liquid tilt and catch the light of the candles on the table. “Not sure. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Please, baby. Dance with me,” you pouted your lips, looking at him with big doe eyes as you batted your lashes.

For the first time in weeks, he smiled a real smile at you, his eyes happy and light. A warmth spread through your body when he smiled at you like that, shooting straight through your heart. “Sure,” he offered his hand to you. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried. Once on the dance floor, he gripped your waist, holding you close, your bodies swaying to the music.

You looked into his hypnotic green eyes, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I couldn’t be here without you by my side,”

“Always, cariño,” he softly said. You blushed, the room fading away, leaving only you and him. No trial, no pain, no fear, just two people who loved each other.

“Y/N!” Gary called out to you. You softly groaned, unhappy that your perfect moment was interrupted.

Your paralegal walked over to you and Rafael, “Y/N, they need all the partners for pictures right now.”

“Ok, I’ll be right there,” you replied before looking at Rafael, “I’ll be one minute.”

“Take your time,” he said.

As Gary pulled you off the dance floor, you looked back at your boyfriend playfully rolling your eyes. He smiled and went back to the table, watching as the photographer snapped pictures of you and the older partners along with various members of charity organizations. You were the youngest member of your law firm to be made partner. He was so proud of your accomplishments. From the moment he met you, Rafael knew you were destined for great things.

“Hey! I know you!” said a voice by the bar. Rafael turned his head and saw one of your co-workers drunk, stumbling towards him. “You’re the guy who killed that baby!” The man slapped him on the back, “Damn! Let me get you a drink. Gotta live it up now. You may be put away for murder in a few weeks,” he laughed, finishing the last of his drink.

The ADA stiffened, nervously glancing around to make sure no one else was paying attention. “Excuse me, I have to go,” he abruptly got up from his chair, tugging at his bowtie which seemed to be too tight. He left the room in need of fresh air, looking back at you one last time before leaving.

***

The ride home was silent. After the pictures were taken and you had finally found Rafael, he asked if you could leave, practically pushing you out the door, not answering any of your questions. When you got back, he walked into the apartment, making a beeline for the scotch.

You gritted your teeth. Like pot that had been ignored and bubbled over, you had reached your boiling point. “Alright, enough!” You stomped over to him, snatching the scotch from his hand and downing it in one big swig. Rafael stared at you, completely stunned. You slammed the empty glass down, “I can’t stand this silence anymore, it’s driving me crazy. You’ve been walking around here like a zombie for weeks.” You pinched the bridge of your nose before reaching out and placing his hands in yours, “Rafi, por favor, mi amor. Talk to me, please.”

“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, stepping away from you.

“What?”

“I said, why are you still here,” he repeated a little louder.

“What do you mean, why am I here?! This is my home, Rafael. You are my home,” you placed your hand over his chest where his heart laid, beating against your palm.

He pushed your hand away, “Well I’ve got news for you, your home is broken. I can’t be your home anymore.”

You vehemently shook your head, cupping his face in your hands, “You are not broken. I know you don’t mean that. I love you. We love each other.”

He scoffed, “You love me? Are you going to love me when I go to jail and you have to visit me through 6 inches of plate glass,” he laughed but there was no humor behind it.

His words stung as if he doubted your love for him. As if he thought that you would abandon him during one of the hardest moments of his life. “Rafi...I--”

“Have you seen the papers!?” He interjected. “I’m a murderer, a monster. I know what they think when they see us. Here’s Y/N, youngest partner at her law firm and oh there’s her boyfriend, he went to trial for murdering a baby.”

“Is this about tonight? Did something happen?”

“It’s not just tonight!” He exclaimed causing you to flinch. “It’s every day! This trial, my actions, they will always be over your head. Is that how you want to live your life?”

“I don’t care about that! None of that matters to me! All that matters is you and me. You are NOT the man they say you are!” You shouted before winding your arms around him, although he didn’t hug you back. He stood there like a statue, knowing if he were to return your embrace, he would breakdown in your arms. You inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne mixed that familiar scent that was Rafael, your tears wetting his dress shirt. “I know you, not them and I’m telling you that I don’t care what happens or what you did. I will love you and be there for you no matter what.”

Unwrapping his arms from around you, he grabbed your hand, leading you to the door. “Get out,” he softly said.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out,” he growled. “I’m not going to stand here and watch you ruin your life.” There was a silent stare down between you both, waiting for the other person to make the next move. “Get out!” He barked.

“No. I’m not going to do that, Rafael,” you whispered. “You need me, we need each other, that’s the only way we will survive this.”

“Get out,” he said in a dangerously low tone. You stood there, rooted to the spot, refusing to leave. “Fine, if you won’t leave, then I will,” he turned and left, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls vibrated.

***

Letting out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in, you silently made your way back to the couch. You curled up in a ball and wept, waiting for Rafael to come home, waiting for him to come back to you.

You cried for hours after he left, eventually falling asleep on the couch. Only to be woken up by the loud ADA clumsily stumbling into your home. “Raf,” you croaked out, sitting up to turn on a lamp.

Rafael came into the room, a big cheesy smile planted on his face, his bowtie undone, hair askew. “There she is! The woman that just doesn’t quit. All my other failed relationships, they all left, but not you, because you are stubborn,” he pointed to you and giggled. “Almost as stubborn as me...almost.”

He tripped over his own feet, trying to get closer to you, nearly falling over on the coffee table in the process. “Have you been drinking?” You asked.

“Now I see why they give you the big bucks. You don’t miss a trick,” he said with a wink, his body swaying from side to side, the man was snarky even while intoxicated.

You got up and went over to him, gently trying to lead him to the bedroom. Although herding cats seemed like a much easier mission than putting a drunk Rafael to bed. “Come on, mi amor,” you took his hands and led him down the hall. “Let’s go to bed.”

He leaned over, placing his body weight, on you, pinning you up against the wall as he sloppily kissed down your neck, the sharp ethanol smell of whiskey on his breath stinging your nostrils, “Mmmm if I go to jail, maybe they’ll let us have conjugal visits. What do you think?” He slurred against the hollow of your throat. “Think the boss will let you off work early to fuck me in one of those teeny tiny trailers.”

He pulled back, his eyes going wide, “Ooo will you smuggle contraband in for me like good coffee and a law book that has a toothbrush turned into a shiv hidden in the pages.”

“Shhh, we’ll talk about that later,” you replied. Finally you both made it the bedroom. By the time you had stripped him of his clothes, you felt like you had just run a marathon. “I need to work out more,” you mumbled, wiping the sweat off your brow.

After placing a glass of water and two ibuprofen by his side of the bed, you laid down, Rafael immediately curling up against you.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “I’m scared.”

You rubbed soothing circles into his back. “I know. I’m scared too, but we’ll get through this together,” you whispered. “Just rest, baby.”

The next morning, you reached a hand out, still half asleep, expecting to find the warmth of your boyfriend’s body next to you. Instead you were greeted by cold rumpled sheets.

“Rafael?” You sleepily mumbled, sniffing the air in search of the coffee he usually made, only to find nothing. Getting out of bed, you padded down the hall, the apartment was still dark and eerily calm. Then you saw it, a slip of paper next to a framed picture of you and him smiling and laughing at happier times. As you read the short note, you could feel your heart drop down to your stomach.

I’m so sorry, mi amor. I’m doing this for your own good. You deserve someone better than me. I’ve already destroyed my life, my career. I can’t stand the thought of taking you down with me. I love you. -Raf

The letter slipped from your fingers, wafting down to land at your feet. You immediately grabbed your phone, calling Rafael’s number only to hear his voicemail on the other line.

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