#well mine do look very red and jagged and are pretty large in some spots. so like am i just not allowed to draw somethin that looks like me

[nblemons]

people will make posts complaining about kinda wacky looking stylized cartoony top surgery scars in art and suddenly everyone feels the need to say that no scars ever look like that and they all fade and they wont ever be that big or red and if they do its bc theyre botched and ugly!!! and im just like Well i guess me and my fuckugly keloid scars will go die in a hole <3

[soulmate-game]

Part 1 … Part 2

“So, How was your first day of school in America?” Lois asked as her small family all sat around the table eating dinner. It was almost painfully ordinary, traditional. A married couple and two kids eating a normal dinner and talking about their day.

All of them appreciated that one piece of normalcy in their worlds of superheroes and villains and PTSD.

Marinette snorted, almost choking on her forkful of food. After managing to somehow swallow without causing herself discomfort, she smiled at her mother figure.

“Honestly? I know Jon could fly and I could teleport to school in practically no time at all, but somehow Damian still manages to seem more impressive.”

“Right?!” Jon agreed emphatically, leaning over the table towards her and almost getting his whole plate of food smashed against his chest. “Probably because helicopters are huge and look awesome, but we’re still just us when we use our powers.”

Marinette nodded sagely at that reasoning as if it was something actually serious. Tikki, who was sitting next to her plate with a half-eaten cookie, giggled.

“That makes sense. But be careful Kaalki doesn’t hear you referring to them as ‘not impressive—‘“ Marinette was cut off before she could even finish her sentence.

“Too late, I already heard that blasphemy,” the other Kwami’s voice carried down from upstairs, making Lois and Clark’s lips twitch up in amusement. “I’m a god, dear, I have even better hearing than Kal-El,” for some reason the little horse god always referred to the boys by their kryptonian names, but they didn’t seem to mind much. “Not as impressive as a helicopter, hah! See if I let you use my fabulous powers anytime soon, Guardian or no Guardian.”

Marinette just rolled her eyes. Technically she could just command Kaalki, but that was against her morals and the horse god would never keep her from responding to an Akuma attack anyway. This was just harmless teasing.

And it was really nice in contrast to everything they were used to dealing with.

“Okay, but besides the helicopter,” Clark pressed gently after everyone’s chuckles quieted down. His face was open with genuine curiosity, and a little bit of worry that Marinette caught onto instantly. “I know Damian isn’t always the easiest person to get along with or understand. Did the rest of the day go by alright?”

Marinette actually set her fork down on her plate, her smile turning a little gentle. “Actually? Yeah. When we first spoke I thought he was a stuck-up jerk like some of my ex-friends and a bully of mine from Paris. But he’s just not good with people,” Marinette’s smile turned even softer as she gazed down at the table, at some memory nobody else could see. “It reminds me of my friend Kagami, from Paris. She acts pretty similar. Really impersonal and prickly on the outside, but once you get to know her she’s the most loyal friend you’ll have. Her mom is really strict though, and Kagami never got to interact with a lot of kids her own age, so she still has issues figuring out how to behave around others sometimes,” Marinette actually ended up laughing a little, rubbing the back of her neck. “We uh, we actually had a crush on the same person back when we first met and it sparked a pretty rough rivalry for a while. Once we got past that though, we ended up being best friends.”

Jon snickered, trading knowing glances with their parents. They had already agreed that, unless Damian or Bruce told her themselves, Marinette would have to figure out the Bat’s identities on her own.

“That sounds very familiar,” Jon stated with a little nod. “Me and Damian fought when we first met, too. Legend has it that Dad and Bruce, Damian’s dad, didn’t get along right away either.”

It was Clark’s turn to snort. “I think it’s just a Wayne thing,” the man agreed, amused. “They don’t like getting close to anyone right off the bat,” Lois kicked his leg under the table for that pun, but Clark cheerfully ignored it. “It is pretty funny that you have a similar experience with someone completely unrelated, though. Maybe we should invite her over sometime? Do you know when her school’s next break is?”

Marinette sat up straight in her chair, her smirk wide and almost blinding at the prospect of seeing one of her closest friends in person again. They video chatted and called often enough, but it wasn’t the same. “Actually! Kagami told me that she’s going to Gotham next month for a fencing competition. She’s an Olympic hopeful, you know. She has to make a good enough impression in different national and international competitions to be selected,” Marinette was almost bouncing in her seat, looking like a female version of Jon for a moment with her vibrant blue eyes shining with rare unhindered excitement and her body unable to stay still from the energy.

“I heard that Gotham was holding the World fencing finals this year,” Lois remarked, but kept eye contact with Clark for a moment as the two communicated silently in a way even telepaths couldn’t copy. Marinette recognized the hesitance in their faces, and her bouncing stopped immediately. She knew why they would be reluctant to let her go.

“I know Gotham is dangerous and I still have attacks pretty often,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, but firm in a way that the rest of their little family hadn’t heard from her much at all. It made Clark and Lois look at her, waiting for her to finish making her point patiently. “But self defense isn’t really an issue. Even without any powers, without transforming, I…” Marinette took a breath to steel herself before continuing. “I learned martial arts from Maman. And I’ve used the Miraculous so long that all the combat experience of the previous Ladybugs is mostly muscle memory by now. And Kagami is more than just a fencer, her mom’s trained her in all sorts of sword fighting her whole life. Trust me, nobody messes with Kagami and gets away with it easily,” Marinette actually looked down at her hands, watching as she essentially had a thumb war with herself to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I don’t think physical attacks are what we’re worried about,” Lois admitted slowly, frowning. “I mean, yes, it’s a concern. But if I remember the dates for the competition correctly, I’ll be out of town for my first long distance job since you came to live with us. Clark will be at work during the day on the weekend, though maybe he can get a day or two off,” Lois gently worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a second. “I suppose, if Jon wants to go with you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if something happens…”

Oh. They weren’t worried about people attacking her. They were worried about her own mind. Which, after the last few months? Was perfectly fair.

“I don’t mind if—“

But, as life usually ended up, they were interrupted from their peace. Everyone jolted in their seats as the door was unceremoniously kicked down, and a man in his early twenties walked in carrying a mountain of boxes in his arms. Marinette blinked, no longer on guard since the rest of her new family immediately relaxed. But still, she was confused. Nobody said anything about having a visitor today.

“I know, I know. I haven’t been in touch for way too long, give us a little forewarning, blah blah blah. I brought presents this time though,” the man said, cheerful and casual and blasé. With the boxes on the center of the dining table, Marinette could finally get a good look at him.

He was probably about twenty four or twenty five, if Marinette’s ever-sharp eyes were correct (they hardly ever weren’t), and his hair was spiked up with a bit of gel, but not too much. Just enough to give it kind of a tousled-rebel look, and it was cropped close to his head on the sides. He had on a black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and slightly down the arms, with slightly baggy black jeans and a plain, worn red shirt. Dark black sunglasses rested on the top of his head, even though the sun had been down for a while.

He did not meet the usual Kent aesthetic of a charming, traditional nuclear family. He was more of an… oddly joyful punk. It actually gave her slight Luka and Jagged vibes, and made her relax a bit into her chair. Contrary to what most might think, Marinette had a bit of a soft spot for the punk rocker look. Most people, that she had met at least, who wore it on a regular basis were amazing people with great senses of humor and large personalities.

“Old man, I got you socks,” he called out with a lazy smirk, chucking the first small box over at Clark. The man caught it with a fond eye roll.

“You always get me socks.”

“Maybe if you stopped being boring, I’d get you something better,” the stranger mocked with good humor. “Lois, jewelry that you’ll never wear,” he handed the box over to the woman with significantly more care, before sliding over one of the bigger boxes to her as well. “And a new camera that you will actually use.”

“Hey, Wait a second, you know you don’t have to—“

“And for the squirt,” the man interrupted without letting Lois finish saying that there was no need to spend so much money. He tossed the last big boxes over to Jon one at a time carelessly, smirking the whole time that Jon playfully scrambled for them. “Video games, geeky shirts, and inside jokes,” he stated happily.

With the table now clear of boxes, he finally noticed the extra body. He blinked, making silent eye contact with Marinette for a tense moment.

“Okay, she’s too old to be a secret child. Did someone make another clone? Did Jon get a girlfriend that looks freakishly like a long lost Asian family member? What did I miss?” He asked, never taking his eyes off Marinette. Clark grimaced.

“If you didn’t break your phone so often, maybe we would have been able to tell you sooner,” the man said slowly, cautiously, with his eyes never straying from the stranger. “This is Marinette. Marinette, this is Connor. He’s… Jon’s brother,” the pause there was a bit odd, and Marinette frowned at the look on Clark’s face. It was like he didn’t know what to say at all, or how to say it. “Marinette is living with us for the foreseeable future. If we get the chance we might officially adopt her, so she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Woah woah woah, what?” Marinette’s voice came out a lot squeakier than intended, the girl thoroughly whiplashed by this situation. It was hard to think straight. “I— we never talked about adoption.” Clark’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, not in as many words,” he conceded slowly. “It would be incredibly hard, and we wanted to give you time to settle in before asking. But… well, you’re officially an American citizen and we all feel like you’re family already. So…”

“You wouldn’t have to change your name,” Lois was quick to interject, watching Marinette’s face worriedly. “And you can say no. You’re already a Kent. We would just like to make it official legally, if and when you’re ready.”

“Okay, stop making the poor girl freak out,” Connor interrupted, eyes also on Marinette and gentle in their concern. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Ignore them. Clark never had great timing that wasn’t related to legitimate danger. So, sorry I didn’t get you anything,” he leaned back casually, thumbs hooked on his jacket pockets lazily. “Didn’t expect I’d have a new sister when I came back to visit.”

Marinette calmed down a little, but emotions still overflowed in her head, her chest still tight and the air feeling too thin. She offered Connor a shaky smile before standing up, looking over to Clark and Lois. “Um, I— can I— I’m tired.”

Clark sighed, nodding even as his face fell at Marinette’s state. “Yeah. We’ll talk about the competition some more in the morning, get some rest.”

The girl only nodded before making a hasty retreat up to her room, even forgetting to take care of her only half-empty plate. Tikki did her best to calm her bolder down from her place hidden in the girl’s hair, but it wasn’t doing much good. She just needed space, and time to try and process everything.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Aren’t you cold?” Connor’s voice made Marinette jolt, looking over at him with wide eyes. Nobody had ever followed her on her post-nightmare trips before. She wasn’t even transformed. She just sat, in her pajamas, on the empty terrace of her old home. It hadn’t been sold yet so she wasn’t worried about scaring anybody.

“I… should have expected you to be the other Superboy, honestly,” Marinette deflected with a weak smile before turning to look over the city again. She licked her lips, trying to calm herself down. “And yeah, I’m a little cold, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just go back home before it gets too bad.”

“You’re trembling,” he pointed out casually. And she was, her whole body was practically vibrating against the terrace railing. Marinette only gave out a pitiful laugh.

“That’s not from the cold.”

Connor only sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind them. Gave the girl a little space.

“What did… What did Clark and Lois tell you? About me?” Marinette decided to ask tentatively. Connor raised one brow, honestly a little surprised that she didn’t also have super hearing to go with her powers. It was slowly becoming more and more obvious that Marinette was not exactly like the other Kents, and Connor only liked the jumpy little girl more for it.

“As much as they could without feeling like they were crossing a line,” Connor admitted. “That they took you in after an accident during a metropolis attack a few months ago, when you had nobody else reliable enough to take care of you. That you’re not Kryptonian, but still special and knew about all of our identities already. But strangely enough they didn’t mention teleportation or the fact that you were a Parisian superhero, not that I’m really all that surprised.”

Marinette smiled, snickering a bit at that last part before sobering again. “Is it… weird?”

Connor silently examined the girl for a moment, she probably expected him to ask what she meant. And maybe if he was anybody else, he would have.

“To suddenly come home to a new person that I’m suddenly supposed to accept as a part of the family? Not really. In fact, you’re probably the most normal surprise I’ve dealt with in years.”

“But,” Marinette looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes swimming with uncertainty. “But I just show up out of nowhere, and you really just accept me? Just like that? I mean, you’ve known me less than a day and you just saw me teleport to Paris in the middle of the night— you aren’t worried at all? Or suspicious, or— you really just accept me just like that?”

Connor couldn’t help but chuckle, pushing himself off the wall to lean over the terrace railing with her. “You know, technically I’m only eight years old.”

Marinette flinched with surprise at the subject change, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Connor laughed at her confusion, rustling her hair a bit. “I’m a clone. I was made with Superman’s DNA, and that of another asshole we won’t mention. Don’t tell Lois I swore. Anyway, I was ‘born’ as a teenager,” he used finger quotations to show that he wasn’t exactly born normally. “With all the mental development and knowledge of a sixteen year old. Pretty much, anyway, but I was still a newborn,” he shrugged. “Clark wasn’t exactly thrilled. Jon was eight at the time, which is why Clark can never decide if I’m the older or younger brother, and he wasn’t exactly planning on another kid back then. Not to mention the whole ‘created in order to kill Superman if he ever went bad,’ and ‘might be a spy because I was made by his arch nemesis’ thing,” Connor waved his hand as if this blasé info dump didn’t actually matter. Marinette just gaped at him, which made it hard for the guy not to smirk. “Point is, Clark was suspicious. Didn’t exactly want anything to do with me. Can’t say I completely forgive him, but it’s mostly water under the bridge nowadays. Especially when we found out that I did have trigger words, and I was unknowingly dangerous. Don’t worry, those trigger words were erased ages ago. Anyway, Clark eventually got his act together. Gave me the Kryptonian name Kon-el, had me live with him for a little bit. We worked it all out,” Connor turned back to Marinette, taking his sunglasses off so he could look her in the eye properly. “I really don’t think a Ladybug is exactly threatening in comparison.”

Marinette was silent for a moment.

“You know I could throw you off this balcony, right?”

“Eh, I can fly.”

Another moment passed before Marinette couldn’t help it, and started giggling. Those giggles turned to laughs, which quickly turned into joyful bellows. Connor joined in, smiling as he laughed alongside her.

“But… you like it with them, right?” Connor suddenly asked, looking over at her. “I know Jon can be a bit overexcitable, and Clark is an annoying boy scout.”

Marinette just shrugged. “Well, it’s not too bad,” she said softly. “I mean, at least neither of them can die by getting crushed by falling debris. So that’s an improvement at least.” Marinette instantly went pale at her own words, slapping a hand over her mouth. Connor snorted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s the exhaustion talking. C’mon, let’s get you back in bed before Clark accuses me of corrupting you.”

Marinette just nodded, doing the world’s quietest transformation before opening a portal back to her room. She was already detransformed, Connor having one hand on her doorknob, when she spoke up again.

“Uh, Kon?” She fidgeted, not able to look up at him. “Thanks.”

The man just smirked, shrugging his leather-clad shoulders. “That’s what family’s for, right?”

Marinette smiled, huffing out a tired laugh. “By the way? I’m glad at least one of you Supers has a sense of fashion.”

“We heard that!”

Connor and Marinette broke back out into guffaws, and the girl couldn’t help but think that she was really grateful for her new family. Maybe she wouldn’t call Clark dad or Lois mom anytime soon, those wounds were still too raw, but maybe eventually. And she’d never had brothers before.

Yeah. This was nice.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 4

I don’t think this ended up as good as the others..? But this is the best way I could write this part. Why is this story turning out longer than expected? Geez I need to learn self control. At least this one was actually kinda fluffy.

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @bigpicklebananatree @thezestywalru @bugaboosandbees @ironspiderstark @mikantsume @marinettepotterandplagg

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (5/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 5: A Flock Found

They pack a wheel barrow to the brim with the newly acquired supplies they find not botheringing to leave behind much of anything, making sure to cop the twenty five gallon container of gasoline from the tool shed out back behind the building... Lord knows they'll need for the grand task ahead of them. By the time the light in the south western sky began to fade from a light gray to pink over the backwaters of the panhandle they're ready. They slip outside through the rectory's side door and creep single file along the edge of the property. Y/n takes the lead, periodically glancing over her shoulder for any sign of the herd that had crossed the highway or any sign of the group that occupied this space all too recently. She carries a glock with a full magazine just in case. The dusky air gets clammy and cool on the back of the stranger's neck as he follows them to the car. They climb in hurriedly, stowing their provisions in the rear cargo bay. Y/n kicks the engine on as the newcomer clambers into the passenger seat next to her- much to the dismay of the other two- unfolding an old dogeared map.

"They usually stick pretty close to the ocean." He says almost to himself, silently calculating the mileage between them and the gulf. "Probably should start down by Perry or Carwfordville." He senses movement ahead of them through the windshield and glances up in time to see a couple of jagged shadows emerging from the woods about a hundred yards away, drawn to the sound of their engine. Garbled growls can be heard over the drone of crickets. The trace smell of garbage on the breeze, the light and space of the outdoors is almost overwhelming to him. He feels like he's been asleep for a hundred years, locked away in that dank and dirty church- he starts to feel dizzy.

Y/n gooses the accelerator and the SUV lurches away. He sinks into his seat as they roar down the road, swerving to avoid the half dozen or so biters now skulking out of the woods blocking their path. They sideswipe one the creatures, ripping a chunk of its shoulder, splattering fresh gore across the glass of his side window.

"You get used to it." she states after he flinches in disgust. He just stares at the splatter, flecks of bone chips, and a long trail of black bile.

"I don't think anyone can get used to that ..." Nick mutters from the back seat.

Night falls and the darkness deepens behind the trees on either side of the road. Most of the streetlights in this part of the country have gone the same way as the internet or cable TV, so the road only gets darker and darker as they head south towards the steaming thickets and festering swamps of the coastal lowlands. The going is slow, most of the two lanes are crowded with rusted out wreckages ,the carcasses of cars and trucks so old now that the weeds and switchgrass have begun to grow up from their metal endoskeletons. The two young men in the rear breathe heavily, thickly, half asleep while Y/n drives and softly hums some forgotten tune. They had passed the jerky and water around a few minutes ago- their standard fare of supper- and now their bellies growl and their eyelids droop with exhaustion.

"You never gave your name..." His hushed voices rings out from the shotgun seat.

"Hadn't crossed my mind at the time, sorry about that... It's Y/n" She chuckles softly. "The one with the headband is Nick but goes by Sapnap, don't ask i don't know- the other one with the accent is George." he just simply hums in reply.

"What about you big guy? What do they call you?"

He takes a moment to regard the woman seated next to him; his head still trying to wrap itself around this complete stranger who's shown him nothing but kindness. On the one hand, she seems trustworthy enough, friendly, a good listener, courteous and capable of single handedly taking out an entire chapel full of reanimated corpses... On the other hand she seems like a walking time bomb. He'd seen her type before- they type that's too kind until something or someone breaks that trust. A hairline trigger. The sad fact is he doesn't have a large array of options. Staying in that hellhole of a church with those enslavers, listening to the groans of the dead, waiting for whatever those bastards would do next quickly loses its charm... Seeing the aftermath of her cleaning house with that knife had given him an odd charge- a cathartic release. He's also aware that he'd never be able to find the caravan on his own given the sorry state he's in. He really has no choice but to go along with her and her scruffy ass men and hope for the best.

"I don't have a name.. that is, one that I can remember.."

She desperately wants to pry, how could he not remember his own name? But the thousand yard stare and glassy gaze is enough to stop her from inquiring any further. "Well we've gotta call you something big guy." She's met with silence in response. "Alright, I guess Big Guy it is then." He offers only a meek hum in response. In an attempt to silence his own raging thoughts his eyes landed on the red bandanna tied to the rearview mirror for what was probably the hundredth time since he started on this way too long car ride.

"... What's that about?" He points to the red scarf.

"It belonged to a friend of mine a long while back, before Sapnap and George were a thing." Her hands tighten their hold on the wheel. "I was caught by 'traders' and he was stuck in the same hole as me... Couldn't have been any older than fourteen at the time. One night the compound was under attack, their front gate was breached- luckily we were kept at the very back end, so when the opportunity came we managed to escape our holding cell and I hoisted him over the wall. Told him to keep running, to not look back. He got away but I was caught again," She takes in a deep breath before resuming her story.

"I was quickly sold off to some asshole who had these two chained up for breaking into their stores... one thing led to another and we snuck out and snagged this ride... we've been moving around since." It was obvious by her tone there was a lot she was leaving out and probably for a good reason. Notably the two in the back seat were dead silent, so much so that it made the air feel heavy and dense enough to cut with a sharp enough knife. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't bothered to ask in the first place

"That sign back there," He manages, desprate to break the heavy air "Said 'Cross city 12 miles" He glances up from the map in his lap, gazing out the side window at the stewing darkness of Dixie County Florida. "Got a feeling we're getting close."

The vast patchwork of wetlands passes in a blur on either side of them. The land oozing a low blanket of methane as gray as mold, clinging to the shadows of pine thickets and gullies like dirty lace. The air smells briny and rotten with dead fish. Every few minutes they pass the ruins of a small town or wreckage strewn trailer parks. No sign of survivors in these parts, though only the occasional silhouette of an upright corpse shambling by, it's eyes like twin yellow reflectors in the darkness.

"We can't just keep burning gas all night." Sapnap says from his place in the rear, his voice all cranked up with pain and panic "and we can't just go off of what you overheard those traders talking about- Much less go off of feelings.." Big guy just keeps a neural face.

"We're in the ballpark" He persists "Believe me they'll be hard to miss." Y/n grips the steering wheel, her jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, snapping and chewing complusively as she drives.

"How many vehicles do they have in this convoy?" George questions between wheezy breaths.

"No idea... but it's quite a few ."

"That's pretty general."

"They'll be easy to spot." He replies once more, gazing back out at the darkness. "Our best bet is to follow the coast, they like to keep close to the water.."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs. "According to those 'traders' they keep their eyes peeled for ships or any possible way they might get their asses the hell out of here. Most of the bigger boats around here have been destroyed by the hurricane that hit a couple years ago, so it's a long shot that they'll find anything..."

They're about to give up the search when they start to climb the gentle slope- at first so gradual it's almost unnoticeable - up the side of a vast malodorous landfill- the barren trash-strewn scrubland to their left reaches across miles of sandy berms, all the way down to the deserted ghostly boardwalks that wind their way along the beaches. The sky has begun to bruise pink with predawn light and Y/n has just started to say something when the Big Guy sees the first faint streaks of red dots in the distant haze.

"LOOK!" He points his large gnarled hand down at the far dunes of ashen white sand winding along the coast. The surface is so pocked and windswept it resembles the dark side of the moon.

"Where?" She cranes her neck, slowing the vehicle down to a crawl.

"I don't see anything."

"About Half a mile up there... Look at the tail lights!"

She takes a deep cleansing breath as she finally sees the caravan chugging along the coastal road in the predawn light, it looks like embers throwing up puffs of smoke in their wake.

"Holy shit, I see it." A big smile washes over her face, Glad she decided to follow through with this insane plan.

"What do you think of those boys?" The two young men in the rear lean forward, transfixed by the sight, each of them rapt and silent as they gaze at the convoy.

"What are you doing?! Blaster your horn at them," George stutters anxiously. "Don't let them get away !"

Y/n smiles to herself, in her former life she used to be fascinated by the wildlife shows, often catching them in the late night showings after work before she turning in for the night. She remembers one episode in particular, on the behavior of sheep vs the behavior of wolves. She remembers the flock mentality; the sheep moving almost as one, easily managed by a single sheepdog. She remembers the instinct of the Wolf, stealthy, patient as it and its pack creep up on the flock. She shoots a glance across the dark interior at the larger man sat next to her before turning her head to face the two sat behind them.

"I have a better idea."

Taglist

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

[clairjohnson]

Night Out

This is based off a loose prompt of "jealous and possessive Keatlejuice where the boy goes feral". My buds @hoodoo12​ (link) and @vicunaburger​ (link) also wrote for this - check the links out! I’d like to start this off by saying I’m no writer - but boy do I like to try lmao. So enjoy my public exposure of shame interests. NSF/T (TW: Blood, Violence, Non/con kiss.)

You may have overdone it this time, but honestly? The alcohol and steady thumping of the club music made it hard for you to care. The cute guys buying you drinks didn’t hurt either. Though cute wasn’t really what did it for you now. There was something about the older, leering men in the club that had you tightening your thighs as they walked by. Predatory looks that should have frightened and disgusted instead left you aching. Had you always been attracted to these types of men? Or had he started this new fire? Your ghost summons turned fuck-buddy was anything but a straightedge young man. He was foul-mouthed, perverted, and easily had 20 years on you – well, 20 years from before he died anyway. He hadn’t elaborated, but you got the feeling he’d been gone and buried a long time. Yet, with a laundry list of repulsive attributes, the thought of him and his malicious smile had your mind swimming.  

A large hand gripping your bare leg pulled you from your thoughts, and you snapped your head over to meet one of those less than savory gazes.

“Looking for a good time, sweetheart?”

The rough hand paired with the familiar pet name sent a bolt of heat between your legs – but not for the stranger sitting next to you.

“I’m all set.” You smiled politely and moved from your seat, brushing by the man and heading towards the back door. This needed to be taken care of – and you had a direct line to the man for the job. A rush of cool air hit you when you entered the alley. Your bare legs and arms erupting in goosebumps. While leaning under a flickering light you pulled out a pack of cigarettes – your gaze drifting to the adjacent wall. Images of you being shoved against it were all it took to have his name slipping past your lips.

“Betelgeuse.”

The word came out in almost a whisper while you placed a cigarette in your mouth.

“Betelgeuse.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you light the end and took a long, steadying drag.

“Betelgeuse.”

As the last syllable was said the air around you became still. In a flash, the cigarette was plucked from your lips and vanished. Your eyes darted around the dark alley trying to catch a glimpse of him, of stripes adorned by a halo of ratty blond hair. Instead, your gaze landed on the brightly lit cherry of your cigarette, the glow seeming to float on its own in the darkness.

“Ya look like a fuck’n smoke show, babe. What’cha doing all dolled up in a creepy’ol alley?”

You still couldn’t see him, but his words and subsequent chuckle echoed around you. The hair on your arms started to stand on end.

“Went out for some drinks, do a little dancing…” You pulled at the hem of the short black dress you were wearing as you spoke, eager for it to be hiked up over your hips. “But I got a bit, anxious, as you like to put it. Figured you could help me feel better.”

“Oh sweetheart, always happy ta help.” There was a pause while the tip of the cigarette grew brighter as he took in a drag. “I’m ganna make ya feel all sorts of things.”

There was a loud bang when the back door you’d exited from not minutes before swung open, causing your heart to leap into your throat. A large, clearly intoxicated man stumbled out onto the pavement. It took you a moment in the dim light, but you recognized him as the guy who’d been hitting you up at the bar. You watched him catch himself on the wall beside your head, his chin tipping down to stare at your significantly smaller body.

“Thought I’d find you out here. God, you’re pretty.”

Before you had a chance to protest his mouth was on yours. Your small fingers gripped into his shirt as you tried to push him back, a yelp muffled against his lips when he grabbed your ass. You gasped for air when you finally yanked your head back.

“Woah dude, the hell do you think-“

Just like your cigarette the man at your mouth was torn from you. You watched in horror as he collided with the adjacent wall, his head bouncing off the bricks with a sickening crack. The ghost that had been hiding from you before made himself very visible. He emerged from the darkness with a pair of glowing yellow snake eyes and a mouth full of snarling, jagged teeth. Instead of the suit you were accustom to he wore a long brown jacket and guide hat, his dirty hair poking out the back.

In stark contrast to his usual chatty, extroverted self – he stayed silent. Approaching the man with a heated gaze. You thought about saying something. Telling him that the guy was drunk and just being an ass, but any words you planned to say in his defense died in your throat when Betelgeuse’s fist connected with the man’s stomach. You gasped, hand moving to cover your mouth as you watched him land the next punch against his face – the poltergeist’s ring leaving a nasty gash across his cheek.

“Stop.” You could barely hear yourself over the growls and cries of pain. Betelgeuse wouldn’t let up. Blow after blow landing on the crumpling figure of a man. You could hardly see what was happening, but you knew in your gut that this was going south fast. “Please, stop.”

When the hands that normally wrapped around your throat in the throes of pleasure dug themselves into the club goer’s neck with clear purpose, you shouted.

“BETELGEUSE!”

He froze.

The broken man was dropped to the ground and Betelgeuse lowered his arms. Slowly, he turned to face you, his eyes still sharp and filled with something you hadn’t seen before – and it scared you. He’d never scared you. Not once since you’d summoned him.

He started towards you and you tried to back away only to be met with a wall. Your stomach dropped when he was finally under the florescent lamp with you, the light revealing the splattering of blood across his front. Panic started to set in. With a growl he wove his bloody hand in your hair and pulled you into a heated kiss. You moaned against his mouth in response – a wave of relief washing over you. The passionate, bruising kiss lasted only a few seconds before he yanked you back, blue eyes raking over your flushed, terrified face.

“Yer fuck’n beautiful, ya’know that?” He said, lifting his other hand to run a thumb over your jaw, leaving a smudge of red in its path. “Yer so soft. Delicate. And yer Mine.”

The world around you started to spin and you pressed yourself to him for support, burying your face in his button up. As quickly as the spinning started, it stopped, and he shoved you from him. You yelped at the push, ready to collide with the ground, but instead met the bounce of a mattress. The furnishings of a cheap motel room became clear as your head started to settle. Your gaze moved back to Betelgeuse, and even though the remnants of fear was still very fresh, the feral look he gave you while unlooping his belt ignited new feelings.

A snap of his fingers was all it took to have you bare to him. The ghost shrugged off his long jacket and tossed his hat to the floor, but kept the rest on. Causally, he pulled his cock from his pants, stroking himself absently while his eyes roamed your body. The silence was deafening. By now, when you normally called him, he’d have listed off a hundred different ways he was going to fuck you. A stream of never ending filth leaving his grinning mouth. But not this time. There was an edge to the way he surveyed you, almost calculating. Without a word he advanced, pressing himself between your legs and crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

You kissed him back with gusto and dragged your fingers down his clothed back, finding purchase in the fabric. Thankfully you had been ready for him when you called, so the quick thrust of his entrance and the deep stretch only caused a delighted groan. Foreplay obviously forgotten he ground into you with rabid determination. His hips pounding against your bare skin. You’d warped yourself around him as tight as you could, only loosening your grip when you felt his teeth sink into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Playful bites and scratches had always been a favorite of his. He liked to find and kiss the little marks he left the next time you called him up. This bite, however, was not playful. It ached and you shouted, your heels digging into his lower back in response to the pain. He released his hold and growled against your throat, his pace starting to pick up.

“Mother fucker think’n he can just touch you.” The words were snarled into your flesh and you yelped when he latched his teeth, gentler this time, onto your shoulder. Betelgeuse pulled back and pressed his lips on the bite before moving to the next unmarked spot. “Yer already fuck’n spoken for – livin’n guys may not have much sense, but they got eyes.”

He moved away from his final bite to nip at your ear and the fingers at your hips pressed into your skin so hard you knew he’d leave bruises – which seemed to be exactly what he was after.

Betelgeuse adjusted the position, moving your legs over his shoulders and holding your hips with a painful grip then started up his thrusting with purpose. One hand crept up from its death hold to circle your clit. The unforgiving pace paired with his deft fingers had you falling into an orgasm head first and you cried out.  A few rough, deep thrusts and he was right there with you, tipping over the edge with a growl.

It was quiet after that, save for your gasping and thudding heart. You opened your eyes to see him staring down at you – the wild, frankly jealous, look on his face now significantly softer. The ghost leaned down to press a light kiss against your lips before rolling off. He moved further up the bed and laid back with a satisfied groan. As easily as he’d done away with your dress he brought a lit cigarette to his fingers. He placed it between his lips as he kept his eyes on you.

“Com’ere.” He said, patting his chest and holding his other arm open in obvious invitation. You crawled over and curled yourself into him, the position oddly comforting. The comfort was lost for a moment when you noticed the staining of blood across the white sheets – it was like someone had been murdered. Someone almost had been murdered. You looked up at the sated poltergeist as he puffed on the cigarette lazily.

“You want some?” He’d caught you looking and raised a brow before holding out the cigarette. You nodded and he placed it against your lips for you to pull a long, steadying drag.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” You asked while blowing the smoke out across his chest.

“Not sure what ya mean.” A bullshit response. He pulled in a few more deep and needy inhales before he was spent – flicking the butt to the floor and letting out a sigh of irritation.

“I didn’t like him touch’n ya.” The words were said as if they’d been tortured out of him and a scowl started to form on his lips. Betelgeuse flicked his eyes over to your face and then to the red, angry bite on your neck. “We’ve been fuck’n for a while now, babe, and I know we ain’t never talked about it – but this thing? I’m going to need it ta be exclusive moving forward. Now I’m not say’n this changes anything about our little arrangement – “ He paused to make a hand gesture between the two of you, “we’re still just fuck’n, nothing more, I just…”

For once he was at a loss for words. You could almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say, or more accurately, what he felt.  

“I like you too.”

There was a long silence. If his heart were still pumping you probably would have felt it trying to beat out of his chest if the look on his face was anything to go by. He groaned and dragged a hand over his face, peaking out between his fingers at you. Defeated he sighed and dropped his arm.

“Yeah, I like ya. And I don’t like share’n.”  

[thiswasinevitableid]

Furies (Mermay OT4)

Request from @angellioncosplay, fill is NSFW

The jagged edge of the harpoon slices into his tail. 

Barclay knows he’s doomed but he thrashes and tries to dive all the same. He doesn’t know what the boar above wants, doesn’t care, he just wants to go home, he has to make it back to them, please, all he wants is to see them again. 

A second barb pierces his side, blood clouds his vision. 

In the darkness below, he thinks he sees two red lights racing closer. Then the harpooners tug, and the world snaps to black.

--------------------------------------

“Is he stable?” Duck whispers as Aubrey swims out of Barclay’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Yeah. I’m glad Indrid warned us when he did; if he’d lost much more blood, I’m not sure even my powers coulda helped.”

“And Joe and ‘Drid?”

“They’re gonna stay with him. I think they’re okay but, well” she sighs, shakes her head, “if that’d happened to Dani, I don’t think anything could make me leave her side.” She loops their arms together as they swim to the door, “do you wanna come stay with us? I know this is hard on them, but you had to, like, break a harpoon in half while one of your friends almost died.”

“Nah, oughta stay in case any of ‘em need somethin.”

“You want to keep Dr. Harris Bonkers for extra support?” She holds out her sea bunny.

Duck rubs it’s back, “I’ll be okay, but thanks for the offer Lady Flame. You get home safe now.”

“I will. Oh” She turns, swimming backwards as she adds, “if he needs any more healing between now and tomorrow, come get me right away!”

He promises he will, locks the house up for the night and floats into the kitchen to put it back in some kind of order. Indrid’s sketch pad and enchanted pen are still on the floor where he dropped them, Joseph’s book and Duck’s half-built model ship knocked sideways from the seer pushing away from the table in a flurry of silver and panic. And on the counter are the ingredients Barclay’d set out for dinner, the ones he was checking off when he realized he needed scallops and swam off with a promise to be right back. 

Duck sighs, jumps when something whaps at the green-glass window. 

“Jesus Winnie, thought you were in the bedroom.” He cracks the window enough to lift the octopus inside. See slowly slides off his arm, swimming across the floor to the pile of salvaged ship instruments Duck and Indrid found for her. 

“Maybe this will keep her from stealing the silverware.” Barclay plucks a knife from the cephalopods tentacle. 

Suddenly, he’s too heavy to swim. They almost lost him. 

It’s simple, really. Duck is in love with Joe and Indrid. Joe and Indrid are in love with Barclay. But that doesn’t mean Duck doesn’t love the other mer; Barclay is one of his best friends, a sympathetic ear when things go south and the only one of the four of them capable of beating Joe at Ten Shells. Barclay also understands something about Duck that escapes many of their kind; that he can love Joe, curious and meticulous from his black hair to his dapper monochrome tail, and Indrid, strange and aloof until you gave him the right kind of stroke on his silver scales, with the same intensity. It just manifests in different ways. 

Duck cracks the bedroom door open, finds the wounded mer on his back in their large, seaweed colored bed. Indrid and Joe are nestled on either side of him. Normally, they’d be an undignified, loving pile, but the bandages on his stomach and tail prevent it. 

Indrid stirs, trilling in distress. His nightmares come and go, are most often the echos of horrible futures he was forced to watch over and over. Duck has a pretty good guess as the which one is playing in his mind tonight. 

He wiggles down onto the bed, draping his arm over Indrid’s side and guiding his bony back and red fin against his chest. When Indrid registers his weight, the nervous twitches of his tail stop. Duck glances up, watches Barclay’s hand glide down the bed to hold Indrid’s own. 

Someone almost took this from them. Almost ripped away pieces of the hearts of the mers he loves most in the world. 

And he wants to know who. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dearest, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, totally fine.” Barclay tries to sit up as a demonstration, only for his whole body to convulse. He falls back against the bed, whimpering pathetically. 

“Hmmm, I was afraid that would be the case. There were some timelines where you healed quickly, but it seems the monsters who attacked you did a great deal of damage.”

“No, no, it was just a twinge, if you give me a sec I can-”

“-You will stay in bed.” Indrid’s red gaze sharpens, “no mate of mine is going to re-open his wounds trying to make me breakfast.”

“Besides” Joseph looks up from setting all the med supplies they need in tidy stacks and lines, “it’s not like Duck or I can’t cook. You need to rest, big guy.” He swims over, strokes Barclays hair. Barclay leans into the feelings, trying to ignore the fear gnawing a new hole in his side. 

In the three days since the attack, he hasn’t been alone. His boyfriends and friend take turns sitting with him, talking when he wants to and letting him sleep when he needs, bringing him food and changing his bandages without complaint. 

It’s all wrong. That’s not their job. It shouldn’t be, that’s what they have him for. Some part of him wishes they’d been too late. Because he doesn’t want to face what’s coming. 

------------------------------------------------

“Any luck?” 

“Some. Juno says she saw an unfamiliar hull pass by about an hour before Barclay got attacked, but she wasn’t close enough to see any details.”

“Damn it.” Joseph slams the book one human weapons in frustration, then cringes at his outburst. 

Duck swims to him, pulling him up from the chair into an embrace, “We’ll figure it out, slick. Nothin else, happen to know we got a real smart mer workin the case.” He winks, kisses Joseph on the cheek. 

He snorts, then looks at the floor, “Some part of me is worried about what will happen if we do figure out who hurt him. I...I don’t believe in violence outside of dire circumstances, but they, they nearly killed him. I’d like to say my motive in seeking them out is to make sure they can’t hurt anyone else but, well, that’s secondary at best. What I want is to make them pay.”

“That makes two of us” Indrid slithers in the door, “he’s sound asleep, not to worry. I have narrowed down our potential culprits with my visions, but I too am afraid of what I may do if I locate the humans who dared harm him.”

“I get the feelin, but right now we’re mostly borrowin trouble. Let’s wait until we know a little more before decidin whether to track ‘em down.”

Joseph nods, opens his mouth to suggest one of them retrieve dinner from the fishmonger down the block, when there’s a crash from the kitchen. 

“Damn, Winnie must’ve gotten into the cabinets again.”

Indrid blinks, then frowns, “No, that is not her doing.”

Rushing into the kitchen reveals Barclay trying to arrange food on the counter. His upper body can barely move, and his tail is unable to maintain direction due to the bandages. 

“Don’t worry about, ow, me” Barclay smiles at them, but Joseph spots panic in his eyes, “th-thought I’d do some meal prep since you’re all gonna be busy this week.”

He’s about to point out that a)they’re all capable of feeding themselves even when busy and b)Barclay’s only been recovering for a week and a half and Aubrey explicitly told him it would be at least a month before he could move around without help.

Before he can make any points at all, Indrid draws himself up to his full height, frills of his ears fanned out and gestures to the bedroom, “You will do no such thing. You need your rest, dearest.”

“But-”

“That was an order, not a request.” It’s a tone that never fails to make Joseph’s spine turn to mush, and by the flash of pink in Barclay’s tail, he feels the same way. Then his whole tail drains of color and he nods. 

“Right. Sorry. I, I didn’t mean to upset you guys.”

Indrid’s frills flatten and he swims swiftly towards the other mer, “Barclay, I’m not-”

“It’s okay. I caused enough trouble already.” He catches Indrid by the chin to kiss him, blows a second kiss Joseph’s way, then disappears into the bedroom. 

As Indrid flicks his tail nervously, Duck clears his throat, “Know I joke about him not havin a selfish bone in his body, but this is startin to get ridiculous.”

The silver-scaled mer sighs, coiling his tail around Joseph’s own and opening his arms so Duck will come give him a hug. When the three of them are close together he murmurs, “ I saw this timeline, but I had so hoped it would not be the one we ended up in. I have mentioned before that the culture Barclay and I grew up in as deep water mers is very different than what you have on the reef. One component of that was the belief that a mer who could not carry his weight in his home would not be in said home for much longer. His mate or mates not only could, but were encouraged to, throw him out to make room for a more useful partner.”

The entirety of Joseph’s stomach crawls up his throat, “He really thinks we’d do that to him?”

“I suspect so.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “Barclay is already prone to such fears, in that he prides himself on taking care of others. And it is a deeply ingrained message and practice, so much so that there are times I still fear you three may turn me away should my powers disappear.”

“‘Drid-”

The mer purrs reassuringly, “But then I remind myself that I am not down there. I am up here, with you who love me regardless of my strength. Seeing the future helps a great deal as well; I can peek and see there are no timelines where you turn me away. Hmm” his tail taps Sterns lower back, “I wonder, is there a way we can mimic that experience for Barclay? Help him see his future here?”

Joseph gets an idea and, for the first time all day, the sense that he’s getting somewhere, “I have a plan.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay isn’t sure if this is some cruel joke, or if his boyfriends genuinely believe they won’t grow tired of him needing to be cared for all the time. Regardless, he doesn’t know what to do when Joseph lays beside him, kissing his cheek and shoulder as he talks about how they should go see the Kelpie migration this fall, and how he’s heard about a human beach where they serve a swim-up meal to mers and humans alike, and wouldn’t it be nice for all four of them to visit and try the food?

He doesn’t know what to do when Indrid gently sits him upright and combs his hair, jumping from topic to topic between kisses to the back of his neck but always returning to what they should do for Joseph’s birthday, or Dani and Aubrey’s anniversary, or their own anniversary.

He doesn’t know what to do right now, Indrid sitting and drawing while Joseph finishes changing the bandages on his tail. The one on his side came off a few days ago, scar tissue forming a jagged tooth of pink and white in his skin. 

Duck swims in, greeting them all at once, his usually friendly expression somber. 

“Joe, ‘Drid, could I talk to you in the kitchen? It’ll only be a minute.”

His boyfriends nod, assuring him they’ll be back even as they swim away. He wishes he could believe it, but he can think of only one reason Duck would need to talk to them alone. With a sad little groan, he rolls onto his uninjured side and pities himself to sleep. 

-----------------------------------------------------

“You’re sure that’s the one?”

“Positive. Minerva had a near miss with it this mornin, described the exact same thing Barclay did. Speakin of which, we know they’re down a few harpoons because the ones they sent after her she threw right back at them.”

“A fair response if ever there was one. Do we all agree on the plan?”

“Yep”

“Yes.”

“Good” A smile that could make a sea monster afraid, “then let us begin.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Winthrop lounges on the deck of the Nemo as his guests and the hired guides mill around the edges of the boat. After that run-in with the mermaid earlier today, they’re on pins and needles, hoping to see and (finally) catch another. 

Is poaching in a protected cove illegal? Only if you don’t have the money to pay the fine. Is it wrong to hunt the rare creatures that call this stretch of ocean home? Wrong is a deeply subjective concept. 

Warmth leaves the deck as clouds swirl above the sun. 

“I say, wasn’t it sunny a moment ago?”

“Yep. Could be again, provided y’all head to shore and never come back here.” A voice calls from the bow. 

Everyone races forward, shouting in excitement when they discover the merman addressing them with an oddly calm expression.

“Don’t even think about tryin to spear me. You ain’t the only ones with weapons.”

A second mer surfaces, armed with a spear gun he clearly knows how to use. 

“Joe’s a damn good shot.”

The other mer fixes them with a steely gaze, “This is your last warning. Leave this cove and never try to hunt here again.”

“Or what?”

The whole boar rocks as something massive bumps the underside. Screams draw his attention to the silver, serpentine shape gliding through the water. A red fin breaks the surface and then it’s gone. 

Then the boat nearly capsizes as it rams the port side. In the darkening waves, the monster turns it’s head to look up at them. It’s red eye is the size of a steering wheel, but he forgets all about that when the creature rears up, jaws snapping, and narrowly misses dragging his wife off the boat between butcher-knife teeth. 

“Our friend here is mighty angry with you” the first merman rubs the monster's fin as it swims by him, “in fact, he’s downright furious.”

“And it looks like he’s decided to build up some speed before hitting you this time. I don’t think your boat will survive that amount of force.”

“Alright, alright we’ll leave, we’ll go and never come back.”

A hissing screech from the monster. 

“We swear!” He says, really meaning it this time. 

The first merman points towards shore, “then get goin’.”

The boat speeds away, and Winthrop decides to never, ever look back. 

-------------------------------------------

“That was fuckin incredible darlin’”

“Thank you” Indrid returns to his usual form, groggy but pleased, “you were both wonderful as well.”

“Never been happier that you’re so into workin out how human machines operate” Duck kisses Joseph hard, one of Indrid’s favorite sights in the whole of the sea.

 “If you like how I handle a spear gun, you should see how I handle, um, other things.”

“I am” Indrid yawns, “in favor of that idea. But first, I believe I am due for a nap, and Barclay is due for an update.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“You did all that for me?” Barclay twists his fingers in the blanket beneath him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised instead of confused. From the look Joseph and Duck trade, he’s doing a shit job. 

“Well, technically we also did it to keep the reef safe from hunters, and hopefully start a legend that will keep any like-minded poachers from coming within fifty miles of our home. Or our family. And yes, dearest, that includes you.” In the darkened bedroom, deep purple shimmers up Indrid’s tail. A signal to obey.

“I, I never said it didn’t.”

“Yes, but it has been on your mind for weeks.”

“I…”

“Barclay” Joseph settles beside him, taking his hand, “Indrid told us about what you two were taught about needing care or being helpless. I, we, none of us want you thinking that’s what will happen here. I promise.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying, not until Indrid whispers “hush now, dear one” and carefully rests their tails together so that the wound is left untouched.

“I, I thought saying it would make it worse. Make you think I needed reassurance, which would just make it clear how useless I am. I, I know that sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous to feel vulnerable or scared after something traumatic.” Joseph traces his fingers up and down his arm and his scales ripple in reply. 

“Nor to feel off-balance when you are unable to do what you usually do.”

“But you gotta tell us next time.” Duck rests next to Joseph, “we care about you, all three of us, but we can’t help if we don’t know what’s wrong.”

He flashes apologetic yellow, “You’re right. I’ll, I’m gonna try to be better about that. It’s just hard for me to let other mers take care of me sometimes.”

The purple returns to Indrid’s tail, and when he turns to look at Barclay his smile is no longer gentle and ethereal. It’s almost tangible enough to slice his chest and send everything he wants pouring onto the bed. 

“It seems to me, my dear one, that you could use some practice in that area.”

“Yes” he murmurs, then yips when Indrid bites his throat, “I mean yes, sir.”

“Much better. After all, your convalescence has made such things difficult until now. And yes, Joseph, I will keep an eye on the futures to be certain no one is hurt. Speaking of which: Duck, please adjust so Barclay’s head is in your lap. You’ll need to hold his shoulders down should he try and disobey me.”

A shift of the bed and then his head rests on mottled green scales. 

“Hey” He smiles up and Duck sends a crooked grin his way, setting more pink off in his tail. He may not want to fuck him, but Barclay’s not about to deny how handsome Duck can be.

This rumination distracts him from Indrid and Joseph’s conversation, so he’s pleasantly surprised when the black-tailed mer catches his lips in a kiss. It’s precise, down with calculated care that always makes him feel like the most interesting, important thing in the world. 

“That’s it big guy, relax for us.”

“I’, I’m tryINGfuck, it’s, it’s kinda hard when Indrid is doing that.”

Indrid chuckles, continues teasing the scales in his upper tail, “Shall I stop?”

“No, please no-”

“Please what?” His slit opens at the steel in Indrid’s voice. 

“Please sir.”

“Good boy. Ah, and here’s that lovely cock of yours. What shall I do with it, hmmm?”

“Anything you want sir.” He tries not to giggle as Joseph nibbles his ear.

“I was not asking you.” Indrid cocks his head at Duck.

“Huh” Duck toys with Barclays hair, “think I wanna see you suck it. Been too damn long since you had a dick in your mouth that wasn’t mine.”

Indrid licks his lips and then Barclay’s moans fill the bedroom as his boyfriend lovingly sucks the head of his cock. 

“Is now the time to mention he sucked me off yesterday while you were at work?” Joseph smiles up at Duck, though his hand is busy teasing Barclay’s nipples. 

Duck growls, “and you didn’t even give an encore where I could watch. Mighty rude of you. Both of you.”

“Don’t blame me” Indrid jerks Barclay off with one hand and fingers his slit with the other, “you know how needy our pet gets.”

“True. Guess I’ll have to put him in his place.” Duck looks down at Barclay, gaze soft in spite of his tone, “not tonight though. Tonight his job is to take care of you.”

“Speaking of which” Joseph turns his face into another kiss just as Indrid’s mouth envelopes his cock once again. He moans and whimpers between those perfect lips, a month of not even being able to touch himself meaning his body is already being dragged towards orgasm. His hand finds Joseph’s tail, petting it enticingly. 

“If you AHnnnfuck, lay perpendicular babe, I can suck you off without hurting myself.”

Joseph glances at Indrid, who pulls off of Barclay’s cock and shakes his head, “Not tonight, dearest.”

He whimpers, tries to lift his head, use his tongue to tease Joseph’s retreating tail, only or Duck to hold him firmly in place. 

“I know, sweet one, you do so love being inside our pet, whether with that talented tongue, those skillful hands, or this sinful thing.” He gives a final jerk, then uses his tail to guide Joseph into his former position, “And I would never deny you that pleasure. He’s such a good little pet after all.” He kisses Joseph posessively, then glides behind him and sets his hands on his waist, “which is why I am going to fuck him on you. I will control his movements, so as to avoid aggravating your injury.”

“And because you get off on it.” Duck adds.

“That too.”

“AHfuck!” Barclay’s whole tail lights up purple for an instant as Indrid shoves Joseph down onto his cock. He might submit to Indrid, but Joseph is the mer in the sea he most wants to claim, to fuck until he’s begging for more.

“Nghnshit, shit that’s so good big guy, fuck I missed this.”

“Ahem.” 

“Thank you Indridoh, ohohohohfuck.” Joseph’s hands scrabble on Barclay’s tail as Indrid bounces him up and down. He looks so handsome like this, cock hard and slit swallowing Barclay to the hilt, dark hair loose and framing his head like a crown. 

Barclay reaches for him, desperate for a touch, but Duck holds him down.

“Thank you, love, if he had moved just then he would have hurt himself.”

“Don’t care” Barclay growlwhines, “Joseph, babe, wanna touch you so bad.”

“You’ll get to, big guy, there’ll be plenty of chances after this.”

He growls, teeth clenched as the riptide of his orgasm pulls at him. 

“It’s okay big fella, you can let go. We’ve got you.” Duck’s voice, as soothing as the hand he scritches down his scalp. 

“Fuck” is all he gets out before Indrid pushes Joseph down and Barclay spurts up into him with moan. 

“Better, big guy?” Joseph’s smile is as dazzling as ever. 

“Uh huh.” His bones are mud, his eyes heavy, and he feels better than he has all month. 

“Good. Come, let me look you over and hold you. Duck and Joseph will join us shortly.”

“But I thoughtAHfuck” is all he hears before the sound of Duck frantically fucking Joseph fills one half of the room, his boyfriends moan switching from charming to mouthwatering as Duck keeps fucking him after he’s cum. 

Indrid builds them a nest on the other side of the bed, guides him into it to comb his hair and rub his aching shoulders, humming as he does. Eventually, Duck swims over to join them, Joseph more floating than swimming in his embrace. 

“How do you feel, big guy?”

“Good. Really, really good.” He closes his eyes, safe in the knowledge that his home and family will still be his when he wakes up.

Then he opens them again.

“Wait, so what the fuck did you actually do to the guy who harpooned me?”

[imagine-loki]

Irked

Title: Irked

Author: lokilover9 Chapter: #24 Rating:Teen Notes: Movies ~ Crimson Peak, Tom Hiddleston & Jessica Chastain ~ The Witches of Eastwick, Jack Nicholson, Cher, Susan Sarandon & Michelle Pfieffer

Coco made Shandi bold and a tad unpredictable, but most of her sense returned after lunch. One openly frisky move towards Nat or Loki, might sour Clint for the entire mission and have Tony suiting up. Vodka was Nats inhibition crusher and with Shandi ‘her’ weakness, she opted to take it slow. While the ladies swam again, Loki chatted up Clint.

“I’ve chosen hunting and fencing as my hobbies to have in common with Shamus.”

That earned him a look. “The latter I could envision, but hunting? As royals, weren’t your beasts served already cooked?”

“Odin believed the skill to mine and Thor’s advantages. It sharpens marksmanship, teaches alertness, survival skills and other tactics critical for battle. Lost in any woods without food or knowledge of how to catch it, is a death sentence.”

“Interesting.”

“What?” Asked Loki.

“Turns out we’ve something in common. My father took me camping and hunting for years. Did my first kill at age thirteen, a large hare.”

“I was eleven, a small boar, Thor twelve, a wild turkey.”

Clint chuckled at the image. “It’s unfortunate Tony forbade my specialty as means of gaining leverage with Shamus. Archery being his favorite. Too risky for recognition though.”

Centuries prior, advanced sorcery had rendered archery useless to Loki, so his next statement required some pride swallowing. “Perhaps through me, ‘we’ still can. Given I’m under orders to conceal all magic.”

“Wait. Is the God of Mischief asking a lowly Midgardian to teach him a specialty?”

Loki sighed. “Yes and I do not consider Midgardians lowly. I’ve dabbled in the skill, yet long before you were a twitch in your father’s loins.”

“Ask nicely, Cactus.”

“Very well. Will you please hone my skills in archery, Cupid? No pun intended.”

“Consider it done. You’ll need various targets.”

“I’m aware. Should any end up animals however, your gutting them. A ghastly task I refuse.”

“Don’t like getting your hands dirty, Prince?”

“I master at killing and skinning.”

“Then who’d be responsible for clean up?”

“You as well, the stench is nauseating. Afterwards, I’ll season and marinate while you prepare the fire.”

“And just like that, you expect me to comply? What if I protest by hiding the matches?”

“Be my guest. I’m still not removing the innards.” ***** Huddled in a corner of the deep end, Nat whispered to Shandi. “Cavemen Grog and Igor, planning their next hunt. Watch them murder a skunk.”

Shandi smiled. “At least they’re bonding.” ***** “Interesting this connection through marriage with Obadiah’s niece?” Loki commented.

“Very.” Said Clint. “It’s scary imagining the bloodshed that fucker would’ve caused had he taken over Stark Industries. Tony has S.H.I.E.L.D. working overtime, investigating every distribution of his weapons since this began.”

“The goal being they’re limited to America’s military?”

“Impossible, unfortunately. Some were distributed to allies, but it’s no secret the all mighty dollar rules every black market. The right price could easily entice a duplicator.”

“Certainly he thought this plausible, beforehand?”

“Another yes and contracts were made with strict specifications, but I think this Taser issue finally destroyed Tony’s trust in people. She didn’t like it, but he increased Peppers security again.”

“As of when?”

“Shortly before we left.”

Loki was fully aware his return majorly influenced Tony’s trust issues. S.H.I.E.L.D never discovered the Avengers death threat culprits, yet Stark highly suspected some came from home. “I regret my presence the catalyst for that necessity.”

“Tony’s appreciative. He told us about your call, Cactus. Thought it pretty decent.” Clint smirked and shook his head. “I still can’t believe that shithead’s gonna be a dad.”

“Tin Man’s a good human. I think he’ll take to fatherhood well.”

“Me too. Earth could certainly use more benevolent geniuses.” ***** Shandi suddenly untied Nats bikini top and swam off. “Luckily we’re still in the deep end and you’re knocked up woman, or I’d have your one piece over the fence.” ***** “Want your first lesson, Cactus? We can ditch these two for a time.”

“That’s questionable.”

“Nat would kill to protect her if that’s your worry. Besides, I’ve concluded their shenanigans a mischievous farce.”

‘Norns man, how blind can you be?’

They weren’t in the woods long, before returning with Clint rather disgruntled.

“Problem?” Asked Nat.

“You could say that. What took me years to master, took him only hours. Fuck it, I’m returning in my next life as a God.”

“Eh he he he. I’ll welcome that as a compliment, Cupid. Yet of what. Vodka?”

“If the shoe fits!” Shandi blurted from the rec room.

“The Queen of Unruliness has spoken.” Announced Loki. Everyone laughed and when Clint went to indulge, he addressed Nat. “Has she had more coco?”

“Why, does the fallout concern you?” A lazy smile gave her buzz away.

“Explain, ‘handful,’ Kroshka?”

Nat spoke quietly. “That was the first sign of trouble. Brazenness, which inevitably worsens. Then she gets comically affectionate so stay away. Have you set the house alarm yet?”

“No, why?”

“She tends to wander.”

“She what?”

“Trust me, just do it. Oh and no tickling. It’s highly problematic.”

A chuckle escaped him. “How so?”

Shandis voice cut in again. “You comin’ back Natskies?”

“I’ll fill you in later.” She whispered. “Join us. We’re watching ‘Witches of Eastwick.’”

“A personal favorite of theirs.” Added Clint, passing with a tall drink. “Poor old Jack subjected to such a beating.”

“It was long overdue, baby cakes.”

Loki spent most of his evening keeping an eye on Shandi, but not closely enough. After dinner she rapidly graduated beyond tipsy, despite him adding extra ice and less alcohol to her drinks. At one point when spotting her sneaking up the backstairs, he followed invisible and watched her gulp straight coco from a bottle in her closet. ‘Well, well. Thieved from the pantry have we?’ When she left, two were teleported to the Jags trunk, leaving behind the one presently refrigerated. An hour later she snuck off again and returned looking very confused. ‘Not so clever now, are you darling?’

Before the evening ended, she wiped out during a slide attempt down the hall in slippery socks, used telekinesis to accidentally propel a small frying pan at Clints package, meant for Loki’s ass while he cooked dinner, topped a shot of his whiskey off with whipped cream, kept hugging Nat, kissed her once on the lips and tripped the alarm for a dip in the pool. When it first sounded, he was upstairs and Nat was waiting on her in the rec room. Upon meeting at the kitchens sliding door, she was the first to comment on their discovery.

“Damn Cactus, looks like you missed her little strip tease.”

Loki glanced at Shandis clothes on the floor. “Are those her panties in that pile?”

“Aren’t they enticing, so black and lacy? Take a closer look.”

His eyes playfully narrowed. “You’re somewhat enjoying my plight of longing.”

Nat snorted. “A little.“

“Listen Midgardian she devil, why is she so inebriated when I’ve diluted her drinks for hours?”

“I may have helped.”

Luckily Cupid was asleep as Shandi tried luring Nat and Loki out with her. “Heyyyy guys! Come on in, I’m nekked!”

Loki smirked and was about to speak again, when a loud splash occurred. “Did she just…”

“Leap off the diving board? Yep, ya missed that too.”

‘Fuck.’ “Why, Kroshka?”

“Yo Natskies, tits make amazin’ buoys! Come out an’ play!”

“That’s why.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“She’s freaking hilarious.”

“Give her anymore alcohol and you’re sleeping in the truck.”

“Pshh..just for that, you go get her.”

“And risk Cupid venturing downstairs? I think not.”

“He’s toast. You scared of a little boner?”

“‘Little?’”

“Ooooh..she gonna like you.”

“Kroshka.”

“Okay, don’t get your nuggets in a knot. I'll…”

Shandi appeared at the door wrapped in a towel forgotten outside. “You done discussin’ testies? I gotta pee.”

Loki was resetting the alarm when hearing a ruckus from the back stairs and thought them kidding around. Minutes later, Nat seeked him for help. Shandi had lost her footing on the second step down, smacked her injured hand on the landing and reopened her wound.

“She’s in the ensuite.”

Loki gave her a look. “Perhaps you should sleep in the shed instead. We’ve some neighbors residing there, I’m certain would enjoy making your acquaintance.”

“I get it Romeo, now be off. Your damsels in distress.”

He found Shandi perched on the counter with a small towel around her hand. “May I take a took? You’ve torn this further.”

“Yeah, I smacked it pretty hard.”

One gentle caress from his finger numbed her discomfort. “If you aren’t more careful, you’ll stunt the healing.”

“I know.”

Magic re closed the wound, but this time Loki decided to bandage it himself. While preparing supplies, her next words startled him.

“You must think me a moron.”

“Not in the least, Shandi. Yet may I advise you refrain from further drink?”

“I’ve had enough.”

“I’m pleased.” To ease her evident embarrassment, he jested. “Tell me, was there a desired outcome of Nat and I accepting your skinny dipping offer?”

Her face flushed as the image conjured Nats fantasy. “I…no, nothing specific.”

“Oh? All three of us, ‘nekked,’ your natures buoys bobbing above the waves.”

“What waves?”

“The ones my cannonball into the deep end would inevitably create?”

She chuckled, then fixated on how attentively he was wrapping the gauze.

“Your wheels are turning again. What are you thinking about? Try saying nothing specific and I’ll never believe it.”

‘Aren’t my cheeks red enough already?’ “Your hands.” She bashfully replied.

“What about them?”

‘If that hand to penis size ratio is true…’ “They’re big, yet..very gentle.”

After securing the gauze, he softly kissed one corner of her mouth. “Gentle like that?“ His lips then traced the contour of her jaw, stopped beneath her lobe and Shandis eyes rolled back when he nipped and lightly sucked at her pulse. "Or is this your preference?”

“Both.” She breathlessly whispered as her core rippled.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Nat disrupted their moment when entering the bedroom. “Bloods cleaned up in the hall.” One glance at them revealed something was up and she smiled. “I’ll be downstairs searching Netflix.”

Loki helped Shandi down. “Join her, hm? I’ll be there soon.”

She left and snuggled to up to Nat in one corner of the sectional. “Stop staring at me.”

Nat chuckled. “I know that look. You’ve been left wanting.”

“Oh shuddup.”

Loki entered after calming his hormones, stretched out opposite them and Shandi eyed him. ‘Panty melting little shit.’ “I still can’t fathom how you can just ‘poof’ anything into existence.”

“‘Poof?’” He asked, amused.

“She’s obsessed with that word.” Said Nat.

“Will you please show me more of your magic one day?”

Her tone and expression held that childlike innocence he now adored, but wanted to move things along. “Of course. Do you ladies like horror movies? I’ve been curious of a one ‘Crimson Peak.’”

“Sure.” Said Nat. “Although beautiful tends to squeeze the ‘shit out of the nearest pillow or arm throughout.” She smirked at Shandis stink eye and after the movie began, quietly whispered something to her.

“But what about…”

“We’d hear him long beforehand, go.”

Loki was pleasantly surprised when Shandi snuggled up to him instead.

“Can I stay here a bit?”

“You may stay as long as you wish.” The movie wasn’t half over when she drifted off. “Why did you suggest this Kroshka?”

"After all we’ve discussed, haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Loki was ninety percent certain of why, yet doubt forever plagued him that anyone could truly want him. His heart needed that final assurance and he waited for it.

“Shandis right where she wants to be, Cactus. What are you waiting for?”

Those words meant more than Nat would ever know, but he had a plan. “I thought of letting her come to me. Tell me the story behind the pickles?”

The last time Shandi overindulged in coco, was at Nats for dinner. She asked for a large pickle from the fridge and did a selacios presentation of oral with it. When Nat praised her, Clint chimed in. He’d been napping and secretly watched from the hall. “Well done. A talent no woman should be without if you ask me.” Nat said Shandi never turned a deeper shade of scarlet.

Loki smiled. “I couldn’t agree with him more.”

“Not a word, Cactus. I mean it.”

“Never and the tickling?”

“Nope, you figure it out. Just do ‘not’ try it in public.”

"Very well. I’ll take your advice, but will definitely indulge.”

Unbeknownst to Nat, Loki presently possessed another secret. His magic was emitting subliminal messages through the television, to hypnotize her. Once they refocused on the movie, her eyes fell shut and he began.

“You will answer all my questions, truthfully Natasha. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Is Tony withholding any information from me, regarding the Allfather?”

“No.”

“Why must I keep things more professional around Clint?”

“Tony asked us to keep a close eye on your behavior and report back. Clint can’t know anything.”

"I understand.” Having his most worrisome questions answered, obliterated any need to eavesdrop on her and Clint. All further enquiries, regarded Shandi. “Explain the difficult road Shandi has ahead. You said this while she slept.”

“All the secrecy and loss of freedom will make things hard.”

“Explain further, please?”

“When our missions over and we’ve returned to the Tower.”

Her response could only mean one thing. “Have you previously assumed we’d become a couple?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since you met.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. “What exactly are you saying, Natasha?”

“Her heart’s never been the same since that day, like yours.”

He froze, not only astonished to learn Nat had grasped his immediate experience, but more that he’d affected Shandi so profoundly. “Despite my behavior?”

“Her beautiful heart had faith in you.”

“Did she tell you this?”

“No…I just knew.”

‘Norns, Pet. Your heavens have sent me an angel.’

“Earlier, Shandi called herself a moron. Does she frequently self criticize?”

Nat deeply frowned. “Only sometimes.”

“You seem angered by this. Why?” Loki thought Nat would admit to loving Shandi. Instead, he received a more intriguing response.

“It’s that word. Shandis mother frequently used it to degrade her and it stuck. Bitch said the telekinesis was why friends and lovers always left them. But Shandi was brave and stopped him.”

“Stopped who and from what?”

“The bitches last lover. He’s why Shandi was abandoned.”

Loki probed further and learned the man had attempted molesting Shandi, but her Telekinesis stopped him. When confronted, he denied it and Shandi was accused of lying. A beating followed and several days later, she was abandoned.

“Exactly how?”

Shandis mother took them by bus, to a large church in a neighboring town. They snuck in as people stood to pray, settling near the back. When everyone sang, Shandi was told to lay in silence beneath the pew ahead and remain there while her mother used the washroom. Mommy never returned and Shandi wasn’t found until later that evening when a cleaner heard her crying. By then, she’d soiled herself and was terrified to come out for fear of harsher punishment. Now Loki understood why she’d gotten so defensive when he teased her during their drive to the Palisades. He further concluded she’d used Telekinesis to protect herself from future molestations and beatings, hence the numerous moves from one home to another.

“Thank you Natasha, you’ve been very helpful.”

Loki finished the hypnotism by putting her to sleep, then kissed Shandis head. ‘Your mother is fortunate to never experience my wrath. Forgive me for wishing her ill.’

Later, he was helping her to bed when a loud thud came from Clints room. “What’s this fixation you Midgardians have, getting better acquainted with floors following alcohol consumption? Even Tin Man’s fallen victim.”

Shandi chuckled. “I’ve yet to witness that.”

“You may never. Pepper’s gotten strict since the last occurance.“

Shandi was pretty tired so they bid each other goodnight. Loki waited a time and after relieving her hangover, received a text. “You awake, brother? I’ve just returned from Asgard.”

“Delivering my progress report?”

“Please don’t, Loki?”

“What couldn’t wait until dawn, Thor?”

“Iris’s father recently passed.”

“How?”

“His Mistress slashed his throat while he slept.”

A wicked grin formed on Loki’s face. “How tragic I cannot express my gratitude.”

“Mother feels the same and sends her love.”

Their correspondence ended, but his grin remained. ‘Ahh, king evil has finally perished. Enjoy your eternity with Satan.’

[tenroseforeverandever]

Home for the Holidays: Chapter 3

Chapter 1; Chapter 2;

A @dwsecretsanta​  gift for @chocolatequeennk.

Characters:  Ten x Rose; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Mickey Smith; Jake Simmonds; Donna Noble; Empress of the Racnoss; Lance Bennett

Rated: Teen (rating may change)

Tags: Doomsday Fixit; Runaway Bride rewrite; Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Separation; Eventual Christmas fluff; adventure

Summary: A Doomsday Fixit that also follows the events of the Runaway Bride.

Despite having the victory of the Battle of Canary Wharf behind them, Rose remains resentful that the Doctor tried to send her away after she promised she’d never leave him.

Chapter Summary: Rose and Donna attempt to take on the Racnoss.

Notes: Sorry to all for the loooong delay in getting this chapter up. This is the reason I really like to get everything written before I post.

As always, many thanks to my wonderful betas, @hellostarlight20 and MrsBertucci. You are both so brilliant!

And thanks to all who have taken the time to read, review, or leave kudos, or any combination of these!

Any recognizable dialogue comes from the Doctor Who episode, The Runaway Bride.

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

***Please note: I have made some edits to Chapter One as a result of continuity issues with upcoming chapters, mostly dealing with the level of intimacy in the Rose's relationship with the Doctor.

HOWEVER!!!! Tumblr is being a pig and not allowing me to edit at this time. Please refer to the updated versions on AO3, FF.net, or Teaspoon.  Sigh...

Home for the Holidays: Chapter 3

Rose and Donna clambered off the ladder and hurried along the cramped service corridor, pausing only to get their bearings. Spotting an opening in the wall, Rose slowed down and tiptoed up to it. She peeked through and found herself right behind a line of the Racnoss’s robot guards. Springing back and barely containing a squawk of fear, she wheeled away, moving as silently as possible, tugging an oblivious Donna with her.

“Blimey!” Donna whispered, unnerved, once they moved a safe distance down the corridor. “What happened? You’re as white as a sheet!”

“The robots… the ones up on the gangways? That’s them, right through there.”

“No. Way!”

Catching her breath, Rose gestured with her thumb. “So, we know the Empress is just over there, yeah, but how do we get to ‘er? Can’t exactly go out that way.”

“Have we even got the right corridor? There could be millions of them all over. The place is like a rabbit warren.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure this is right. Why else would that robot have brought you here instead of in through one of the other doors? ‘Sides, there’s no time to turn back. Gotta keep moving forward, see where it takes us. C’mon, Donna,” Rose urged, breaking into a trot.

Donna dutifully gathered her skirts and followed close behind. “There’s a lot of running, isn’t there, when you’re with the Doctor?”

“Yeah, there is.” A wave of nostalgia swept over Rose, and she smiled. She did quite a bit of running in her position at Torchwood too, but it didn’t hold the same excitement it had when she had run with the Doctor’s hand in hers. “And look, Donna! There!” She pointed ahead of her to some stairs leading down to the left. “They look like they’re headin’ in the right direction!”

Rose and Donna crept down the stairs, and found themselves in a large storage room containing mops and buckets, and shelves full of spare parts for various pieces of industrial equipment. A crude, arched opening was cut into one wall. They could hear the voice of the Racnoss clearly through it.

“This must be it!” Donna stage whispered, as she crept up to the opening.

“Shhhh! Be careful!”

Donna bent her head around the opening.

“What do you see?”

Donna turned back, her face animated with excitement. “This is it! She’s out there. Right - bloody - there! I think this must be the same passage that wanker ex of mine used earlier.”

“Lemme see?” Rose nudged Donna aside, and peeked out.

There were a couple of stairs leading up out of the opening, then several more to the right, leading to yet another staircase down to a large, raised platform where the Racnoss stood. Beyond the Racnoss, down at floor level, Rose could see the large, circular pit in the floor, and beyond that, the laboratory. She noted, with a sense of relief, the two robots that had been standing with the Racnoss earlier were no longer there. Presumably they had been the ones chosen to search for Donna. But she and Donna would still need to contend with the many robots standing guard on the elevated gangways. They would just have to hope for a bit of luck.

She swallowed hard, attempting to calm her nerves. “Okay,” she beckoned to Donna with a twitch of her head, “the Racnoss will be expectin’ one of her robot blokes to deliver you to her, yeah?”

“Yeah, suppose so.”

“Well, that’s exactly what’s goin’ to happen. You’re gonna walk in front of me, so she doesn’t get too good a look at me, an’ I’ll have a hold of your arm. You gotta pretend you’re fightin’ me, yeah?”

“And we’re just gonna walk right up to her and… what?”

“Yeah, that’s where my plan gets a little sketchy, I’m afraid. Are ya in?”

Donna nodded, swallowing hard. “Well, I’m not letting you go out there on your own.”

“Thanks, Donna. Whew,” she rubbed her sweaty palms on her denims, settled the metallic robot mask over her face, and adjusted the cloak so it covered her completely, “I hope she can’t smell fear, ‘cause if she can, this get-up won’t fool her for long.”

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that. She’ll just think it’s me… and she wouldn’t be wrong.” Donna’s uneasy smile confirmed her words.

“All right. This is it, Donna.” Rose took a deep breath, and clutched Donna’s arm, trying not to pinch down too hard, but hard enough to appear convincing to the Racnoss.  “No more sneakin’ around. We have to go in like we mean it.”

“Well then, let’s do it!”

--oOo--

Rose had to hand it to Donna: the woman had guts! She broke into a tirade at Rose, as she feigned stumbling down the stairs toward the Racnoss Empress. Rose shoved her at appropriate times to make the scene seem realistic.

The Racnoss whipped her head around at the commotion. “Ah, the bride has returned: come to join her groom in holy, dreaded matrimony. Bring her to me,” the Empress demanded, turning her many black eyes toward them.

Rose quailed at the sheer size of the Racnoss. She was huge, imposing, so much larger than she had seemed earlier from the relative safety of the laboratory. Doubt seized her. Maybe she should have tried to find the Doctor, instead of thrusting herself and Donna on this misbegotten mission, straight into the clutches of the creature.

Lance’s sneer emanated from his prison, suspended in the web. “Didn’t think she’d get very far. She’s just that thick!”

Rose bristled at Lance’s tone and hissed in Donna’s ear. “You were engaged to that tosser?”

“I hate you!” Donna snarled at Lance.

“A bit late for that now, sweetheart.”

As the Racnoss turned to glare at Lance, Rose stepped forward with Donna. “I’m gonna push you toward her, but I need you to duck right out of the way, over there, off the edge of this platform, and try to find some cover. Can you do it?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Donna shouted as though snarking at Lance, but effectively giving Rose the answer she needed.

“Oh, so feisty. I admire this one!” the Empress chortled. She swung her head back toward the groom. “You should treat her with more respect.”

As the Racnoss continued to berate Lance, Rose realized that was the best distraction she could hope for. Mentally bracing herself, she shoved Donna toward the Racnoss with a commanding, “Now!”  

Donna stumbled and dropped to the ground, rolling herself to the edge of the platform. Snarling, the Racnoss wheeled around, and reached out with a long, red limb to snag her claw in Donna’s long white skirts, pinning her in place.  Rose lifted the gun, from under her cloak, feigning aiming at the fallen bride. Her finger quivered on the trigger. Donna was screeching, being dragged back along the floor inch by inexorable inch toward the irate Empress. Rose would have to act fast, if she was to have any hope of freeing her. The Racnoss was currently distracted by Donna, but it wouldn’t be long before she noticed Rose wasn’t what she seemed to be, and the element of surprise would be lost.

Swinging around to aim at the Racnoss’s humanoid chest, Rose fired off a round of shots. She was jolted back by the force of the weapon’s recoil, toppling ungracefully onto her bum and getting the wind knocked out of her. The Racnoss swivelled her fierce head, baring her jagged teeth, but was otherwise unaffected by the bullets that had glanced uselessly off her thick exoskeleton. Rose’s stomach sank like lead as terror overwhelmed her

“And what do we have here?” the Empress wheezed, her many eyes fixed on Rose.

In that moment, Rose realized her hood and mask had become dislodged. There was an ominous shuffling as the robot guards all swivelled, pointing their weapons at her. The gig was most definitely up.

“A little girl playing dress-up?”  Keeping one foot on Donna’s dress, the Racnoss extended another limb and flicked the rifle out of Rose’s hands. It went skittering across the floor, well out of Rose’s reach.

Rose shuffled backward, out of the range of the long limbs.  She removed her mask, and as her eyes met Donna’s despairing gaze, she mouthed a heartfelt apology, guilt and shame washing over her.

Indifferent to the emotions of the humans, the Racnoss continued her commentary. “A sweet, tasty treat for my starving children.

“But now! Enough is enough. I grow impatient. The bride and the groom are both here. It is time they be joined together in their awful wedded life...  Activate the particles. Purge every last one!” she bellowed.

Rose watched, enthralled, as Donna began to glow, the Huon energy pulsing from her body. A groan from above attracted Rose’s attention, and she saw Lance glow as well, though not as brightly.

“And release.” At the Empress’ command, the Huon energy streamed up from Donna’s body, rushing to meet the energy being purged from Lance. The two streams met in the air over the pit, before plunging to the centre of the Earth. “The secret heart unlocks, and they will waken from their Sleep of Ages! My children: the long lost Racnoss, now reborn to feast on flesh!”

Turning her attention to the ceiling, she shouted, “And now, the Web Star shall come to me.

“Oh, but my babies will be hungry. They need sustenance. Who shall be their first meal? The Bride, the Groom, or the pretty, little bridesmaid?”

At that moment, a burst of light from the pit indicated the Huon energy had reached its target, and the distant sounds of many chattering voices could be heard as the infant Racnoss ascended the shaft from the Earth’s core.

“The Groom, I think. You have been most impolite to your lady friend. The Empress does not approve.”

“No!” Rose scrambled to her feet. “Don’t do this! You don’t need to do this! We can help you. I… I represent Torchwood. We can find a way to help you. Find you a place where you and your children can live in peace.”

“Ahhh, yes, Torchwood. Torchwood has been very helpful already.” The Empress emitted a gargling chuckle. “They drilled this fine hole and provided me with everything I needed to create the Huon particles. But now, little girl, the only way they can help me is by filling the stomachs of my children.”

The Racnoss again directed her voice skyward. “Harvest the humans! Reduce them to meat.”

“Wait! What are you doing?” Donna yelped. “You can’t do that!”

“I think you’ll find I already am. The human race is being harvested, little human bride. Soon you will join them.”

“I don’t think so!” Panic in her eyes, Donna scrabbled onto her feet, hauling herself away from the clutches of the Racnoss, the sound of tearing fabric signaling her freedom.  With the skirt of her gown in flowing in tatters behind her, she ran to Rose, taking up a position beside her, facing the Racnoss.

“Arrrggghhh!” the Empress screeched. “Do not think you can escape! You have nowhere to hide. You and all the humans on this wretched planet are worth nothing to me alive.”

“But you can’t…” Donna’s anguished voice trailed into nothingness.

Dread filled Rose at the thought of all the innocent lives being taken as she and Donna stood helpless to save even themselves. She put a comforting arm around the bride’s shoulders.

Suddenly distracted, the Racnoss swung her head toward the far end of the room, close to the laboratory, and Rose followed her gaze to where one of the robots could be seen moving up some stairs at the far side of the chamber.  “My children are climbing towards me and none shall stop them. So you might as well unmask, my clever, little Doctor-man.”  

Rose felt her mouth drop open in shock, as the robot removed its mask and cloak, revealing the brown-pinstriped form of the Doctor. With a loud, unified shuffling, the robot guards all redirected their attention away from Rose and Donna, and onto the Doctor.

“Oh well, nice try,” he quipped.

Rose couldn’t hold back the little sigh of longing that escaped her at the sight of him, so familiar, and yet so strange after his absence from her life for so many months.  She flushed as she noticed Donna watching her with narrowed eyes, and pulled the hood of her cloak back up over her head, concealing herself from both Donna’s scrutiny and the Doctor.

She watched, fascinated, as the Doctor peered up at the webs where Lance hung, ensnared. “Now, first things first. Lance, I’ve got you.” He aimed his sonic screwdriver toward the web, loosening the strands.

The web started to give way, and Lance squirmed in fear. “What the hell are you playin’ at? You tryin’ to get me killed? I’m gonna fall!”

“Nope. You’re going to… swing!”

The webs released, leaving one long strand that Lance clung to, shouting in terror, as he swung down in a wide arc over the open pit, toward the Doctor.

“I’ve got you!” the Doctor called, his arms outspread to catch the groom. The strand of webbing was too long, however, and Lance was hurtled at high speed, his trajectory taking him several feet below the spot where the Doctor stood waiting. The Doctor grimaced at the loud clang Lance’s body made as he smashed against the metal railings and fell unconscious to the floor. “Oh… sorry.”

“Oh, my God!” Donna muttered.

The Racnoss surveyed Lance’s supine form, nonplussed, and began to cackle. “The Doctor-man amuses me.”

“C’mon, Donna.” Knowing instinctively the safest place to be was close to the Doctor, Rose grabbed Donna’s hand while the Racnoss was preoccupied. Desperately forcing herself to ignore the sound of some of the robots training their guns at them again, she hauled Donna to the edge of the platform, where they both sat down and pushed off, landing on the hard concrete floor below. They rushed over to where Lance lay, and Donna crouched down, shaking him none too gently to wake him up.  Rose glanced up at the Doctor, from under her hood.

“Empress of the Racnoss,” the Doctor spoke with authority, and pride swelled in Rose at the sound of his voice. “I give you one last chance. I can find you a planet. I can find you and your children a place in the universe to co-exist. Take that offer and end this now.”

“You little humanoids are so funny. This little one,” she gestured to Rose, “has already made such an offer. I declined.”

“What? Your robot?” he scoffed. With the cloak still pulled up over her head, the Doctor, preoccupied with addressing the Racnoss, hadn’t recognized her. “Ah… but you’re not really a robot, are you? Weeell, great minds think alike, eh? But, then, you must be Torchwood, to have the audacity to make an offer like that.”

Hands quaking, anxious about how the Doctor would react to her unexpected presence, she pulled the hood off, and shook out her hair. “Hello.” She gave a nervous little wave, pressing her lips together in a farce of a smile, and forcing herself to meet his gaze as Donna unsympathetically hauled a groggy Lance to his feet.

The Doctor’s eyes roved over Rose, the hard anger in his gaze softening to wonder as he acknowledged her presence for the first time. “Rose…” he whispered, his lips twitching up in the hint of a proud smile. Then the smile fell, his expression reverting to firm resolve as he turned his attention back to the Racnoss. “Well, you’ve had two generous offers. You’ll get no more. What's your answer?”

“Oh I'm afraid I have to decline your offer, too. You see, my children are so hungry and now what a glorious wedding feast there shall be! The Groom; the Bride; a Bridesmaid; and you, Doctor, the Best Man.”

“Oh, that I am. And I warned you. What happens next is your own doing.”

“I’ll show you what happens next,” the Empress growled. “At arms! Take aim! And–”

“Relax.”

Rose looked around her, incredulous as the robots all slumped forward, deactivated.

“What did you do?” a shocked Donna asked the Doctor.

“Guess what I've got, Donna?” he smirked, waving around a large remote control unit. “Pockets.”

She turned to Rose, incredulous. “How did that fit in his pockets? Hey, Spaceman, how did that fit in your pockets?”  

“They’re bigger on the inside,” Rose explained. “Like the TARDIS.”

The Racnoss, spoke again, contemptuous. “Roboforms are not necessary. My children may feast on Martian flesh.”

“Oh, but I'm not from Mars.” The Doctor’s voice exuded confidence.

“Then where?”

“My home planet is far away and long since gone. But its name lives on.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Gallifrey.”

“So, he is an alien,” Lance commented.

“Shut up, you!” Donna smacked him hard on the shoulder, causing him to stagger forward.

“They murdered the Racnoss!” The Empress’ temper surged, panic flashing in her many dark eyes.

“I warned you. You did this.” The Doctor revealed some red Christmas baubles that had also been tucked in his pockets.

Rose allowed herself a chuckle. “Lemme guess… those are some of the exploding baubles from earlier today. Am I right?”

“No. Way!” Donna stammered, eyes wide. “They… well, they… yeah, they sure look like them.”

“No! No! Don't! No!” the Empress began to beg.

Using the remote control to direct them, the Doctor tossed the baubles into the air. Some surrounded the Empress, whizzing around her, tormenting, while most of them went zipping out, through the lab, into the sub-basement corridor. Within seconds, the sounds of explosions rattled the room, and with a great, roaring rush, water came flooding into the chamber and plummeted into the great pit. Fires broke out as baubles ignited the webbing on the ceiling, and horrible, anguished wails echoed up from hole where the Racnoss young perished in the flood.

The Empress’ howls could be heard above all the other noises that filled the air. “No! No! My children! No! My children! My children!” She thrashed and keened, wailing in anguish.

The water continued to flood in, splashing and surging, swirling around Rose, Donna, and Lance’s feet, the level rising dangerously with every passing second. Rose looked up at the Doctor and shivered. It had nothing to do with the cold water that dripped from her hair and soaked her clothes. She shivered at the Doctor’s expression, wrathful and pitiless: the Oncoming Storm. And yet in his eyes, there was a look of such hopelessness…

The Empress gave one last yowl, dragging Rose’s attention from the Doctor. The water had already reached past the level of their knees when the Racnoss shouted an order to be transported and disappeared in the flash of a transmat beam.

The platform where the Racnoss had been standing was now empty, and Lance chose that moment to make his escape toward it, slogging through the water as fast as he could in his unsteady, semi-concussed state, with the swift current tugging at his legs. Rose leaped after him. He could not be allowed to escape. At the very least he would need to be held at Torchwood and interrogated. He would most likely be retconned, as well, to make him safe to integrate with the general public again. She lunged through the water, catching up to him as he struggled to climb up onto the platform. She grabbed his arm and helped him up. Then she leaped up beside him and, together, they negotiated the slick surface, slipping and sliding across the floor and finally down to the storage room at the back, where the water had already risen to Rose’s chest level.

They needed to get to higher ground.  

“Hurry! Up the stairs,” she urged, gesturing to the flight of stairs leading to the service corridor. The water was rising steadily behind them. “Faster! Let’s go!” she barked, clambering up the first few steps as water sloshed around her waist.

Not yet on the steps, Lance floundered in the deep, heaving water, fighting to stay upright. She stretched her arm out to help him, and suddenly his hand wrapped around her wrist like a vice. She gasped and with a condescending leer, he met her eyes and yanked her down toward the rolling waves. Grasping at the railing with her free hand, she struggled against him. Her hand slipped along the slick, wet surface, and she felt her balance falter. A sudden surge of water knocked Lance off balance and she took advantage of his instability, flipping his hand away with a quick twist of her arm.  

He plunged back into the water below, sputtering and flailing his arms wildly until he managed to grab hold of a railing and pull himself out of the water.

Rose scrambled up the stairs once she was sure he was able to stand up again. She glowered at him. “Just move your fuckin’ arse, yeah. I’ll not be waitin’ on ya.” She turned her back on him and leaped up the stairs two at a time. Upon reaching the service corridor at the top, she careened along it, leaving Lance to his own devices, certain he would follow. At that point, there was nowhere else he could go.

When she approached the opening that led to the gangway where the robots were located, she ducked inside, desperate to ensure the Doctor and Donna had also made it to safety. She pushed out onto the gangway between two of the dormant robots, and her heart hammered in horror at the sight of the Doctor still standing there, numb, frozen in place, water drenching him, lapping around his ankles. Donna was standing on the platform beside him, shouting and gesticulating, but Rose couldn’t make the words out over the noise of the deluge in her ears.

“Please, Doctor,” she implored him under her breath. “Go. Please!”

Relief surged through her when he finally responded to Donna’s shouts, suddenly awakening to the danger of their situation. As if by instinct, his eyes flickered to Rose’s, meeting them briefly before turning, grabbing Donna’s hand, and clambering up the stairs to safety.

[forthelore]

Wendigo

Wendigo

There are no secrets in a small town. Not when everyone knows everyone; and everyone’s business belongs to everyone else, no matter how painful it is.

Just as it was no secret that the Jackson family did not come virtue. They lived on the edge of town, in a run down trailer that no one quite remembered moving there. It had just popped up one year when Hana was a child, and it hadn’t honestly moved since. Which, on its own, have provided a surprising amount of conspiracy theories considering the number of storms that had passed through the district.

“Brooke,” Hana sighed one lunch break, her hand dragging itself through her hair. She had just washed it the night before, and enjoyed feeling just how soft it was under her fingers. “Why are you even in line? You can’t afford the school lunch.” Behind the shorter brunette, Ana giggled viciously.

“You’re right,” Brooke arched an untamed brow at her. “I can’t. That’s why the government pays for mine.” She glanced at the saran wrapped sandwich that currently sat on her tray looking as unappealing as the dying salad. Her calloused hand reaches out, and holds it up looking as unimpressed as ever. “I’m a freebie baby.”

“A burden,” Ana scoffed, her eyes rolling as she reached under the sneeze guard to grab a plate of baked chicken. The juicy slab of chicken looked absolutely more appetizing than whatever junk had been squashed in between the two slices of bread.

“Only on your taxes,” Brooke snorted stepping to the next line of selection—this time iced trays holding juices, milk, and bottles of water.

“Because that’s great,” Hana shook her head, reaching ahead to snag the bottle of water that Brooke had been reaching for. “Sorry, you can’t afford that.” A cruel smirk found its way onto her lips as she pushed past the taller brunette, who looked more than ready to smack her across the top of her head.

“That’s enough girls,” One of the lunch ladies—Gabby?--Hana never kept up with their names. There were too many of them coming and going for her to remember every single one. They came for the stability, but left as soon as a better opportunity presented itself. “Or I’ll have to report you for verbal bullying.”

And though the threat had been spoken, Hana and Ana both know it was a voided argument. No one ever reported the two girls. One’s parents were the principle, while the other worked on the committee. The other’s were a doctor, and a physicist that decided small town America was just where they wanted their babes to grow up—and they took every opportunity to let her know.

“Right,” Hana hummed smiling tightly as she stepped around Brooke. The soft cotton fibers of her cotton sweater caught on the flakes of dried leather that formed the rag that Brooke wore. “Ugh, seriously? Keep your flakes to yourself, Jackson.”

“Just spreading the love, Mustafa,” Brooke waved her lunch at the check out scanner, before pushing past the rest of the line, and making a bee line for the door at the edge of the cafeteria.

------------------------

The next time that the girls ran into each other at lunch, was about a month later. Brooke had been in a horrendous mood after a night out hunting had proven to be barren, and more of a pain in her ass than proficient. She had gone out with the idea that she would finally nail that damned wendigo that had been howling in the fields behind the Stuart’s farm. It had shown up at midnight, just as she had predicted, down stream from where she had put up a deer stand. It’s claws dug into the earth, tossing up clots of dirt as it rooted around looking for something it had burried—a body, or a bag of gold jewelry, even perhaps a finger or two that it had snagged from some poor person or animal it had hunted.

Brooke had spend hours planning out just where she should put her station; even looked up the damn wind direction. But as her luck would have it, just as she had leveled her 7mm-08 Remington at the beast (fully loaded with a purified salt shot) the wind direction changed entirely. Suddenly, the beasts head had snapped up, nose raised into the air as drool began to pool from its chops, her scent entirely embedded in its nose. Brooke cursed, moving to jump down from the stand as the beast released a guttural howl that had no doubt awoken Mack Stuart—the farmer that had called upon her services months ago.

“Shit,” She hissed darting through foliage, heading straight towards a solid iron bunker that Mack had installed for his cows after the monster had attacked a few of his prize winning heifers.

“Brooke?!” Mack stuck his head out, just in time to watch the pale figure leap from the treeline and tackle its target.

In a short sense, Brooke had left the Stuart farm with two hundred dollars in her pocket, and a sizable gash in her lower left abdomen that had prevented her from getting any form of comfortable sleep. Which meant, when it came to her pushing through a crowd of students that seemed to want nothing to do with her, her mood dropped considerably—not that it had been necessarily high to begin with.

Still, she found herself lining up with the crowd, arms crossed in front of her protectively.

“Again, Jackson?” Hana sneered, her lips puckered in distaste as she slid up behind the larger girl. “I feel like I got stuck behind you just last week.”

“Three weeks ago, actually.” Brooke moved one arm to drag a hand down her face. It was taking all of her patience not shove the girl into a wall and punch her in the face. But she couldn’t afford to be expelled at the current moment. There were still too many loose ends that she needed to burn with the Wendigo before she took off again.

“Still too soon,” Hana rolled her eyes, and not for the first time Brooke found herself wondering what, exactly, her problem was. She hadn’t been unnecessarily rude to the girl; not overly friendly either. But Brooke wasn’t in the school to make friends. It wasn’t her priority.

“Look, Mufasa,” Brooke turned, eyes narrowing. One of the home made stitches, pulled tightly against the injury on her side.

“Mustafa,” Hana hissed, finger moving to poke Brooke in the chest. But she paused mid sentence, eyes darting down the grey v-neck t-shirt and settling on the spot just below her arm. “You’re bleeding.” Her face draws tight as she watches the blood stain steadily grow. “You need to go to the nurse.”

“No,” Brooke frowns moving her arm to look down. Sure enough, there was a red stain that had taken over a rather sizable chunk of the bottom hem of her shirt. “It’s fine.” She stepped out of line, eyes darting for an exit. She needed to get to the bathroom, and find a way to get the bleeding to stop again.

“Jesus,” Hana sighed, forefinger and thumb coming together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She wished, for just a second, that she could be like other girls and simply scream at the sight. It would draw the teachers attention, and someone else would step in and take the responsibility of getting Brooke Jackson fixed,

Hana Mustafa-Rashid was not like other girls.

She was too headstrong to play the damsel in distress very well. Instead, she reached out, gripping the beaten leather sleeve of Brooke’s jacket and started to tug her towards the west exit way. It lead to a quiet hallway that was only used for band class and practice. Which meant that the bathroom was likely empty, and she could get a decent look at whatever was going on under Brooke’s shirt.

“Did you get stitches or something?” Hana shoved the bathroom door open, hand slapping agitatedly against it again to slam it shut once both girls were in. “Take your shirt off.”

“Look, if you wanted to see me naked, you could just wait until Gym class. I’ve never been shy--”

“Shirt.” Hana narrowed her eyes, crossing her own arms over her chest. Now was not the time for games—she was missing her lunch period, and had already missed breakfast. So sue her if she was a little pissed off; hanger was a real emotion. “Off. Now. Or I’ll get a teacher.”

“I can’t decide if this is sexual harassment, or if you’re just a terrifying nurse under all your pretty bows.” Brooke sighed, reaching for the hem of her shirt. “It ain’t pretty. And don’t judge the stitches. I could only do so much with the vodka.”

“With the...What the actual fuck?” Hana whispered once the shirt had been pulled over Brooke’s head. Along her abdomen was a jagged cut that was very obviously poorly stitched together—leaving very little to Hana’s imagination of the involvement of the vodka. “Did you do this yourself? Do me a favor,” She leaned in, hands moving to jostle the injury slightly. She needed to see if there was already pus building inside the open wound. “Don’t ever take up sewing.”

“Ya know,” Brooke hissed, head tilting back as a grimace of pain took over her features. “Your bedside manner, really needs some work lady. Maybe you’re not a nurse. Maybe you’re just a sadis—mother fucker, don’t poke it!” Brooke’s voice pitched ten octaves as her head jerked down to glare at the other teen. The older teen had nearly expected to see a look of remorse on Hana’s face. But she found none. Instead, the girl looked upset, and determined as her fingers moved about the large wound.

“Don’t. What the fuck even happened? Did you do this to yourself?”

“What? No! Why...what the hell? I’m not suicidal.”

“That’s not what this is telling me!” Hana huffed exasperated, and oddly, annoyed that Brooke had been silent about the injury. Sure, she hadn’t expected her to tell herself about it. They didn’t have that kind of relationship—the absolute opposite. Yet, she still found herself rather surprised that she hadn’t even gone to a professional to get the injury glanced over. “This is infected, and definitely stitched at home! Like jesus, what is this? Did you use an actual sewing needle?”

“I didn’t really have anything else.” Brooke muttered, lips pursing, as her jaw worked itself back and forth. “And Brandon’s not home right now...so it’s not like he could stitch me up.”

“Okay, and what about...I don’t know, the ER?” Hana pushed herself up into a standing position. She rushed over the paper towel dispenser and pulled out several handfuls.

“No insurance.”

“No...fuck.” Hana sighed turning the taps on. “Alright...lay down on your jacket. I’ve gotta clean that up…”

------------------------------

The third time that the girls bumped into each other at lunch, it went much smoother. Ana had been absent from school for the past few days with mono. So everyone had settled into a rather peaceful group, chatting with their friends and, for once, not following whatever high school click’s that Ana had managed to keep in tact.

Brooke had found a nice little niche to settle herself in. She was still separated from the general population, but she could still watch for anyone that looked different or suspicious. The Wendigo was still at large, and she wasn’t taking the risk of letting the beast latch itself onto one of the poor students who wouldn’t know what to do.

So, needless to say, when Hana Mustafa-Rashid approached her, all smiles and cute head tilts, Brooke was on edge. She pranced up to the curly haired brunette, and flopped herself down directly across from her. “Hello,” Hana gracefully unwrapped the sandwhich—which truly struck Brooke as odd—before ripping off the corner and popping it into her mouth. Her nose scrunched up at the flavor, before she dropped it onto her plate utterly unimpressed. “That’s disgusting.”

“No,” Brooke reached over snatching the meal from her tray. “What’s disgusting is that you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.” Brooke looked up, brown eyes narrowed as Hana—or the supposed Hana—sighed in defeat.

“You’re a quick hunter...faster than anyone else who has ever pointed me out.” The edges of whatever spell the Wendigo had cast upon itself wavered; it looked as if heat was radiating off it. But Brooke knew that if she reached out to touch it...her hand would freeze. Frost would creep up her arm, turning her veins a dark black, before the tips of her fingers even started to turn purple.

“And I don’t see any of those hunters around here.” Brooke grabbed her bottle of water, unscrewing the top. Currently, if the beast was to attack, she would be defenseless. School didn’t allow weapons—no matter how harmless to humans—on campus. The principle had made it a point to check her every morning before she came in. How lucky she was that her reputation preceded her.

“No,” Not-Hana giggled, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned forward. “And I don’t think you will. They’re burried, you know. Hidden in my little cave. Just like you ought to be.” Her gaze unnerved Brooke just enough to make her squirm. But she wasn’t about to leave, and let the beast follow here into an empty hallway where it would be able to devour her. “How bad does it hurt still?” Her eyes traveled down, resting on the curve of Brooke’s waist.

“It sucks,” Brooke shrugged nonchalantly. “But I’m managing.”

“And the infection?” A cruel grin spread over the beasts face. Brooke tensed in her spot; she had been trying to do her best to deter the infection that was spreading out from the injury in thin black lines. “How bad is it? I can smell it you, know.”

“Well,” A third voice, as un-amused as Brooke had ever heard it, broke into the conversation. “This is interesting. Here I am thinking you’re failing science,” Hana nudged Brooke with the toe of her sneaker, causing the other to instantly scoot further into the booth. “And here you are dealing in clones.” She glanced at the copy of herself, and arched a brow. Whatever she was seeing had her looks down a tee. Even the freckle on her jaw that she usually covered with foundation because she hated how it looked.

“Hm,” The wendigo hissed glancing at the face it had taken on. The wavering around it intensified, until it nearly collapsed.

“Not a clone,” Brooke sighed pushing her sandwhich into her mouth. “Not nearly. But,” She shooed the beast away as if it was nothing more than a fly. “It should get going if it wants to make it back to the woods before everyone else sees it.”

“That would make your job easier,” It hissed jumping to its feet. “Don’t brush me off, child.”

“I just did.”

-----------------------------------------

The last time that the girls brush into each other for lunch, its planned. Hana had finally worked through her own demons, and managed to get Brooke to agree to meet up for lunch at a shabby hamburger hut in the center of town. It was a fifties themed diner that looked like it was a health inspectors worst nightmare. She was pretty sure she had seen a spider nest in the corner when she walked in. Her father would not have been impressed with the place, but perhaps that is why she had picked it out of all of the possible restaurants that they could have gone to.

“Hey,” Brooke slides into the booth across from her. She looks pale, and like she’s either getting sick, or already is. Which, knowing the curly haired brunette, both could certainly be a possibility. “You look peachy.”

“Thanks, it’s called sleep.” Hana shrugs her shoulders, leaning back in her seat. Even though she teased the other, Hana had only managed a total of three hours of sleep last night. There was a sickening howl on the edge of her parents property that kept waking her up. It had been a desperate sound, full of pain, and resembled a death call that Hana had heard on a documentary one time. “You should try it sometime.”

“One day,” Brooke sighed, dragging a dirty hand over her face. Her nails were black, and definitely deserved to be washed. She made a note to do so before any food actually touched the table. “I’ve got other priorities until then.”

“Like that thing that had my face?”

“Exactly, like that thing.”

“What is it, exactly? You keep skirting around it.” Hana waved down the waitress that had been sure to stop by every couple of minutes to ask if she needed anything while she waited on her company. 

“Hard to explain. And I still doubt you’d believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Hana hummed glancing outside. Storm clouds were quickly rolling in; followed by lightning and then thunder. It hadn’t called for rain on the forecast, but it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in the area in recent times. “Ana is still sick with mono. You have some raging infected gash that is spidering out through your veins, and there was something prancing around with my face. I’ll probably believe anything at this point.”

“The local tribe didn’t die because of a crazed member.” Brooke watched as Hana blanched at the statement. It had caught her off guard. They hadn’t been talking about the local Indian tribe—a small group of thirty six Algonquin members that had settled on a chunk of land. They had been murdered by one of their own, a scrawny seventeen year old that the media had portrayed as a bullied nerd. “There’s a little more to it.”

“And that thing that was pretending to be me. You think it had something to do with it?”

“I don’t think,” Brooke leaned back, dragging her hands into her lap. Her shoulders slumped forward as an entirely new wave of exhaustion settled over her. “I know so. It’s called a Wendigo. It’s a monster that’s a part of their lore. It takes on the faces of its victims to maim, slay, and devour. Essentially, it had already killed the kid that had gotten framed. Hence the probable suicide, but lack of a proper body. Instead, the damn thing feasted on the blood of its victims, and likely ate the poor kid. And they never even suspected it because it’s supposed to be just superstition.”

“Seems like it's a little more dangerous than black cats and ladders.” She turned and ordered two sodas, and a glass of water from the waitress. 

“It is,” Brooke nodded grimly. “Much more dangerous. It’s smart, and has been around for a long, long time.”

“You’re having a hard time killing it? Why don’t you reach out for help?”

“I have. But the less people involved in hunting it down the better. The less lives at risk, and less of a chance for it get into my head and impersonate someone.”

“That’s why Brandon has been gone for so long.” Hana frowned as things started to click into place. “Why he hasn’t been home?”

Solemnly, Brooke nodded.

An unsettling wave of nausea rushed over Hana just then. She had been teasing Brooke and calling her poor and whatever else Ana had insisted all semester. Meanwhile, Brooke had been trying to keep her brother and everyone else at bay and safe. All because of a deranged monster that had decided to make the outside of their small town its home.

“You can’t go home then.” Hana ground her teeth. “You’re injured, and it's infected and it's too dangerous for you to be alone.”

“It’s too dangerous for me to be around anyone too. But that’s okay. I found its cave last night. I just need to come up with a plan to take it out once and for all.” Rain started to patter against the window. It was a soothing sound that was quickly starting to lull the huntress into a state of relaxation. “I planted a line of salt outside of its den. So it won’t be able to leave.”

“Except it's raining,” Hana frowned, watching her not-enemy doze on and off even though they were supposed to be getting burgers, and technically going over a project. “It’ll wash away the salt, and I’ve got a feeling its been running you ragged so that you’ll be an easier target. Let me help you.”

“Have you ever shot anything before?”

“Like, have I been hunting? No. But Ana’s family has a lot of guns, and we’ve watched some of the footballers fire a round off every now and then. I know, for the most part, how they work.”

“Firing a gun, and killing something are two completely separate concepts. If you just fire to fire, you aren’t killing anything. The air doesn’t scream and bleed, and hurl itself around looking to kill what it can’t touch or find.”

Hana flinched a bit at the idea of Ana’s brother and father shooting a deer last fall.

“When your aim is to kill, you have to take the first shot that opens up. And, in this case, you have to hit your mark, or your mark will hit you. And it will hurt like a bitch.”

“And it’ll kill you if its claws into you because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.” Hana stared Brooke down. She wanted to get her message across, no matter what. 

“Again,” Brooke groaned dramatically. “Insurance is a thing. I can’t afford a real doctor bill right now.”

“But I can. My dad’s a doctor, remember? He can help with the medical procedure part.”

“It’ll go away once the wendigo is dead. It’s not a human based infection.”

“I don’t think it really matters at this point,” Hana sighed. “You need help. Preferably medically, but I doubt you’ll accept anything that anyone else offers.”

“You’re right. I won’t. I’m not a charity case. You didn’t care before you found the wound, or before Ana got sick. She’ll be back soon anyway. How is she feeling?” Brooke attempted to change the subject, but Hana saw right through it. The girl wasn’t comfortable talking about her own well being. Which made sense—her brother had been gone for too long. And everyone in town looked down on her because of her reputation, and the fact that she didn’t live in some giant house like the rest of them did.

“Managing.” Hana shrugged leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. “But we’re not talking about Ana, or about before this whole monster thing happened. We’re talking about right now.” She smiled politely when the waitress brought over the three drinks. 

“Are ya’ll ready to order?” She smiled politely, dancing from one foot to the other. It hadn’t been a busy night, and Hana bet she was itching to do something because of some energy drink she had downed. “Or do ya’ll need a few more minutes?”

“Burger,” Brooke yawned, covering her mouth entirely with her hand. “Medium, and fries please.”

“Alrighty! And you?” The dyed-blonde bounced, a smile on her face. 

“What are your fries cooked in?” The poor waitress—Jenny, her name tag read—faltered momentarily. It wasn’t often that the Rashid family ate out. After all, for their religion there were strict consumption regulations. In this instance, she had to make sure that the fries were either baked on a completely clean pan, or that no meat had touched the oil in which they were fried. 

“Canola oil? I think I'd have to ask the chef.”

“Should try their blackened chicken salad,” Brooke mumbled from her spot. “It’s pretty good.”

“Fine,” Hana sighed leaning back in her seat. One day, she vowed, there would be an entire list of foods that she would allow herself to try. “I’ll have the blackened chicken salad. Extra balsamic vinegar, please.” The waitress nodded, seemingly relieved with the order and darted off towards the kitchen.

“They cook all their shit in one place.” Brooke nodded, leaning forward. “It’s too small of a joint to support having another frier, and it's too expensive for them to change the oil all the time.”

“Yeah, well…” The rain poured down harder, slamming against the glass in torrents that soaked the sidewalk outside. “It wasn’t supposed to rain today.”

“No,” Brooke shook her hand glancing outside. “It wasn’t. I think it's upset.” Her lips pursed in thought, before her shoulders tensed entirely. Standing a few blocks down from the dingy diner, was a form that Brooke would be able to recognize in her nightmares. “Definitely upset,” Brooke groaned as it lurched forward onto all fours. “Grab the salt. We need to block off all entrances.”

“What?” Hana frowned as the table jutted into her rib cage from Brooke standing up. “Careful, you crack one of my ribs, and I’ll have my dad send you my medical bill.” Hana narrowed her eyes, but followed Brooke in grabbing  all of the salt dispensers from the tables. Which seemed to catch the attention of the waitress, the maitre’d, and whoever else had been inside the small diner.

“All you girls had to do was ask,” Jenny smiled stepping around the counter. She seemed a little hesitant as Brooke snatched the salt dispenser from the hands of another patron. “I could have refilled your salt.”

“We need all the salt we can get. And better make it fast.” 

The same howl that Hana had spent her entire night trying to ignore screeched through the window, causing them to rattle. Jenny gaped, turning to face the door, her face paling at the darkened figure that was slowly making its way down the town’s main road towards them. 

“What the hell,” Jenny squeaked, trembling. 

“Wendigo.” Brooke sighed, stepping around her. “Hana, salt along the bottom of the door, and along all of the windows. Put as much as you can. I’m gonna get the employee entrance and the kitchen.”

“I just pour it?” Hana gaped a bit watching Brooke disappear through the swinging doors into the back. With a soft groan, she moves towards the door, doing her best to ignore the screaming coming from the approaching monster. “Yes, leave the newbie to just interpret vague directions.” Hana rolled her eyes before deciding to lock the door. Shakily, she unscrewed the cap of salt and poured a thin line along the weather seel of the door. “Should I do more?” The door shook as the beast screamed just a few hundred feet from the door. “Okay, yepp.” She nodded as her hands began to tremble. “Pouring more! Jenny,” She turned to the shocked waitress. “Get the windows. Pour as much as you can!”

The Wendigo, running on all fours, threw itself into the door. Hana watched, terrified, as the glass pane started to crack. 

“Salt ain’t gonna keep that thing away!” One of the patrons gasped, jumping up from their spot. The Wendigo snarled through the door, sunken eyes searching through the glass for the face that was somewhere in the back.

“Get the fuck outta my kitchen!” 

All heads turned towards the double swinging doors as Brooke was dragged through. She was quickly followed by a burly short man with a leather utility belt clasped around his waist. In each pocket was a cooking utensil that the man had probably used to make all of the meals on the table around the dining room. His beady eyes were scrunched in anger, as he hobbled after the brunette that had interrupted whatever it was he was doing in the back.

“Greg,” Jenny gasped dropping the salt shaker that she had been emptying along the seal. “Greg, you gotta let her do whatever it was she was doing!”

“Nonsense,” Greg growled glaring at the blonde waitress. “She’s probably just hallucinating some stupid shit. You know the kind of shit kids are on now a days.”

“I’m not on drugs. If you don’t let me finish, it’ll get in and then we’re all screwed.” Brooke wrenched her arm from the man’s grip and stumbled a bit. Her hand moved to a spot on her hip—where Hana had noticed a light bulge. She could make a guess as to what it was, but she didn’t want to think about her English project partner packing.  

“Ridiculous.” Greg sneered, watching as Brooke moved her hand down to the hidden weapon. His own hands twitched as he waited and watched for her to jerk it out and pull it on him.

“It’s going to get in!” Jenny screamed as the glass pane from the door collapsed in on itself. The wendigo snarled—a high pitched keening sound—as it stepped through the pane and over the broken salt line. It didn’t even look bothered by the attempt to keep it out. “Oh my god,” Jenny whimpered throwing herself against the wall in an attempt to get as far away from it as possible.

“Brooke,” Hana snapped eyes stuck on the creeping monster. It’s thin bony fingers bit into the linoleum floor that had likely not been cleaned in a very very long time.

“I know,” Brooke narrowed her eyes as the Wendigo sniffed along the floor.  Surely, it already knew exactly where she wasn, but it was attempting to drag out whatever the hell this attack was. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

“What the hell is that?” Greg hissed, eyes stuck on the souless being before him. “What the hell--” He cautiously reached his hand out to his utility belt. His fingers grazed along the blade of a butcher’s knife, before settling on a much thinner but sharper chopping knife.

“Wendigo,” Brooke said matter of factly. “Your knife won’t do much against it.” Her own eyes darted down to man’s hand.

“And you got something that’ll take care of it?”

“Always,” Brooke nodded, hand snaking to the black Smith and Wesson M&P. Just as she started to pull it out, the Wendigo zeroed in on her.

“Brooke,” It’s voice gurgled from a deep spot within the beasts throat. “Brooke,” In a jerky movement, the beast threw itself up onto its back haunches—towering over the rest of the diner visitors by at least two feet. Drool dripped onto the floor in large sticky globs as it took a step towards her.

“I’m right here,” The brunette clenched her jaw. “Come and get me.”

[asfeedin]

Why celebrate Earth Day? Here’s 12 reasons why.

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, Live Science asked a dozen scientists to share their favorite facts about our home planet. These researchers marveled at everything from backward flowing rivers in Antarctica to the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica in Mexico, which one geologist called the “Sistine Chapel of crystals.”

Read on to learn about Earth’s wonders. If you’ve got one of your own to share, write about it in the comments below.

1. Mountainous changes

The stunning view of Mount Everest from the Gokyo Valley. (Image credit: Shutterstock)

“The top of Mount Everest is limestone from an ancient ocean floor formed 470 million years ago — before life had even left the ocean! I love this fact, because it reminds us of the tremendous changes our Earth has gone through to bring us to this moment in time, from mass extinctions to asteroid impacts and vast movements of the very ground we stand on. Just as humans are one small speck in a vast universe (thanks, Carl Sagan!), so too are we a tiny blip of time in the long arc of Earth’s history,” said Jacquelyn Gill, an associate professor in the School of Biology and Ecology and the Climate Change Institute at the University of Maine.

That fact can be sobering, but it provides a message of hope for our species as well. 

“When we lose species because of our actions, we’re cutting threads in a tapestry that has taken billions of years to weave, and it records stories of vulnerability and loss, but of survival and resilience, too.”

So while our planet’s past may provide warnings of upheavals, it can also provide hints for charting the future.

“The clues to surviving global change are in the rocks, for those who can read them,” Gill said.

2. Giant Crystals of Naica

A man (left) explores the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica in Mexico. (Image credit: Javier Trueba)

Juan Manuel García-Ruiz, a geologist at the Spanish National Research Council, has spent a good portion of his career crawling into underground vaults of pure crystal. Last year, García-Ruiz authored a paper on the history of the largest geode on Earth — a jagged, crystal chamber in a Spanish mine that can comfortably fit several scientists inside at once. But his favorite spot on Earth is where the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica lays buried, about 1,000 feet (300 meters) below the town of Naica, Mexico.

“This is the ‘Sistine Chapel of crystals,'” García-Ruiz told Live Science. Giant gypsum pillars, most of which are as large and thick as telephone poles, slash through the basketball-court-size cavern in a brilliant display of Earth’s slow-motion alchemy. The crystals are hundreds of thousands of years old, and still actively growing in the hot, humid cave. For now, the largest one measures 39 feet (12 m) in length and 13 feet (4 m) in diameter, and it weighs 55 tons (50 metric tons).

3. Earth’s mysterious synergy

An illustration of Earth’s mysterious innards (Image credit: Ed Garnero/ASU)

“My favorite fact about Earth is that all parts of it, from the center to the atmosphere, appear to be dynamically and chemically interactive, over a wide range of time scales and spatial scales,” Ed Garnero, a professor at Arizona State University’s School of Earth and Space Exploration, told Live Science.

As an example of this planet-wide synchronicity, Garnero sent an image (which he made) depicting the mysterious underground structures that some researchers have labeled “the blobs.” These lopsided, continent-sized mountains sit inside Earth’s mantle about halfway between your feet and the center of the planet. While scientists know from seismic imaging that these blobs exist, nobody is exactly sure what they are or what they do.

One intriguing feature of the structures, Garnero said, is that plumes of exceptionally hot rock (depicted here in yellow) appear to rise off the blobs and feed certain volcanoes on the surface — essentially creating a chemical pipeline that connects the deep Earth to the high atmosphere.

“I guess an addendum to this fact is that there is SO MUCH that we do not know about Earth — from the internal structures to the climate,” Garnero said. “It is an exciting time to monitor, measure and model the observations.”

4. “Stained glass” diatoms

A wagon wheel diatom under a microscope (Image credit: NOAA/John R. Dolan, Laboratoire d’Océanographie de Villefranche; Observatoire Océanologique de Villefrance-sur-Mer)

One of the most amazing facts about Earth is that “around 20-50% of the Earth’s oxygen is produced by diatoms,” said Sarah Webb, a biologist and associate professor of life science at Arkansas State University-Newport. 

“Diatoms are microscopic algae with a shell made of glass,” Webb told Live Science in an email. Diatoms are pretty to look at, too, she said. “They look like stained glass when viewed under a microscope.” 

Life as we know it wouldn’t be around were it not for an abundance of lung-friendly oxygen gas in our atmosphere. Earth has been oxygenated for about 2.3 billion to 2.4 billion years, but the tiny, delicate diatoms of today likely evolved around 250 million years ago. These unicellular organisms are ubiquitous in Earth’s oceans, and scientists estimate that there are more than 100,000 species of diatoms. 

5. Rivers that flow backward

Robin Bell smiles for the camera in Antarctica, where she does most of her research. (Image credit: Courtesy of Robin Bell)

Antarctica, Earth’s southernmost continent, is one of the driest places on the planet. But there’s a surprising amount of liquid water lurking below the continent’s frozen surface that doesn’t behave as you might expect.

“Beneath the ice in Antarctica there are mountain ranges where rivers flow backward and lakes [that are] the size of New Jersey,” said Robin Bell, president of the American Geophysical Union and a professor at Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory of Columbia University in Palisades, New York.

“The weight of the overlying ice makes the water flow backward while the heat of the Earth keeps the water in the subglacial rivers and lakes from turning into ice,” Bell said.

Scientists discovered clues to a backward-flowing river in Antarctica’s Gamburtsev Mountains after they examined the shape of the icy layer atop the hidden river; that layer aligned with the direction of the water’s movement.

6. Glowing sea creatures

The fluorescent seahorse, Hippocampus erectus, glows a bold red and green. (Image credit: Copyright David Gruber)

More than 70% of Earth is covered with water, so it’s no surprise that scientists such as David Gruber find inspiration in exploring these great depths. Gruber, a presidential professor of biology at City University of New York and an explorer with the National Geographic Society, studies glowing marine animals. He snapped the above photo, which shows the first biofluorescent seahorse known to science.

“Knowing how much magic is happening beneath the sea that we’ve yet to even learn about yet,” is Gruber’s favorite Earth fact. “It’s perhaps my main inspiration as a scientist that maintains my child-like curiosity.”

There’s so much to learn. “How we are connected to other life and what our place is on this amazing planet is still in its early stages,” Gruber told Live Science.

7. Route 66

(Image credit: vectortatu/Shutterstock)

“The boundary between Earth’s mantle and core is roughly 3,000 km [about 1,865 miles] below our feet, a little less than the total length of America’s ‘Mother Road,’ Route 66,” said Jennifer Jackson, a professor of Mineral Physics at Caltech.

Initially, researchers thought that this region was a simple interface between solid rocks and liquid iron-rich metal. But, in reality, “this remote region is almost as complex as Earth’s surface,” she said. 

While it’s impossible to reach this Route-66-long place in person, “geophysical and experimental studies of this distant region reveal a fascinating landscape of chemical and structural complexity that influences what’s happening on Earth’s surface,” Jackson said. “For example, the complex dynamics of Earth’s core-mantle boundary affects Earth’s protective geomagnetic field and the motion of tectonic plates.”

8. Life on our planet

Cambrian fossils formed by cyanobacteria are found in Newfoundland, Canada. (Image credit: Shutterstock)

Our planet harbors magnificent life-forms, from tiny, near-invisible organisms to giant, ferocious beasts. Billions of years ago, conditions became just right for the tiniest particles to combine together and form the very first life-forms. 

These life-forms are nearly as ancient as Earth itself. “The Earth is over 4.6 billion years [old], and life has been present on the Earth continuously since at least 3.5 billion years ago,” Shuhai Xiao, professor of geobiology in the Department of Geosciences at Virginia Tech. The earliest evidence for life on our planet comes from the marks these organisms left on rocks, according to a previous Live Science report.

Photosynthetic organisms called cyanobacteria were some of the earliest life-forms on our planet. Here is a photo of fossilized Cambrian mounds formed by cyanobacteria in Newfoundland, Canada.

9. Climate feedback

It’s not too hot or too cold for this moose in Washington’s temperate rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula. (Image credit: Shutterstock)

Another amazing feature of our planet is how various processes interact in so-called climate feedbacks, which act to either amplify or diminish other climate forces. 

“It’s amazing how climate feedbacks have maintained a habitable planetary climate for hundreds of millions of years —- right in the sweet spot of not too cold, not too warm,” said Jonathan Overpeck, dean of the School for Environment and Sustainability at the University of Michigan. 

However, these same feedbacks could make the effects of climate change worse, because they may further amplify the planet’s already increasing temperatures, resulting in what is known as “positive feedback,” according to NASA. For instance, as the globe warms, it causes more sea ice to melt; ice reflects a lot of sunlight, sending heat back out to space; but when that ice melts, it reveals a dark sea surface that instead absorbs heat.

“We need to fight climate change harder, to keep our planet habitable and flourishing,” Overpeck said. “That’s what we all need to rededicate ourselves to on this 50th anniversary of the first Earth Day.”

10. The past influences the future

(Image credit: Merritt Turetsky)

An amazing fact is that “historical legacies often dictate how Earth will respond to modern change,” said Merritt Turetsky, the director of the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research at the University of Colorado Boulder. 

“A legacy can be thought of as [a] memory of an ecosystem with regard to past events,” Turetsky said. “One example is permafrost, frozen soils that have accumulated at high latitudes over millennia. Today, permafrost soils store so much carbon — derived from ancient plants, animals and microbes that existed on the surface of our planet — that they will be a major player in how Earth responds to future climate change.”

“The past often is the key to understanding our planet’s future,” Turetsky told Live Science.

Caption: Merritt Turetsky’s team samples frozen permafrost soils in Alaska and Canada to understand how past soil types influence the ability of Arctic ecosystems to cope with modern environmental change.

11. Fascinating dimensions

(Image credit: Johann Philipp Klages)

Our planet is a dynamic and ever-evolving giant orb, with earthquakes shifting the rocky plates that make up its surface, volcanoes that exude fiery lava from the planet’s innards, and even deep-sea hydrothermal vents that gurgle out sizzling mineral water that supports bizarre forms of life. All of this can be enchanting to scientists who immerse themselves in the planet’s geology.

Glacial geologist Johann Philipp Klages said his favorite aspects of Earth are “its fascinating dimensions and unexpected forces, which pleasantly tell us, again and again, how small and insignificant we are in the context of Earth’s history.” 

Klages is a research scientist in the Marine Geology section of the Alfred Wegener Institute Helmholtz Center for Polar and Marine Research in Bremerhaven, Germany. An expedition on the institution’s icebreaker RV Polarstern took Klages to the Amundsen Sea Embayment in West Antarctica in 2017, where he captured this gorgeous image of the ship in front of the Pine Island ice shelf edge.

12. Natural healing

This mother and baby tapir might just help the Amazon rainforest.  (Image credit: Shutterstock)

What is Earth’s greatest feature? That “it supports life!” Marcia Macedo, an associate scientist and director of the Water Program at Woods Hole Research Center (WHRC) in Massachusetts, told Live Science.

“What amazes me is that most natural systems have the capacity to heal themselves after big disturbances,” she said. “This is as true for a human body recovering from disease as it is for a tropical forest growing back after an intense fire.”

Macedo added, “sometimes that healing is facilitated by surprising heroes,” such as the tapir, which can restore degraded forests in the Amazon. The tapir does this by munching on fruit from healthy trees and then depositing their seeds in areas that have been previously burned, according to a WHRC statement.

Originally published on Live Science. 

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Tags: 12, Celebrate, day, Earth, Heres, Reasons

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[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Yume Twins Jan 18

In a strange way I find working on these to be therapeutic between my cleaning jags. We still have about a week left before the Inspector comes but today hasn’t been the best for me, so I didn’t actually get much done... I’m planning on focusing tomorrow on that work, and getting at least 1 review done!

A selection of the Yume Prize items for the month~

1. Kapibara-San Cake Design Squishie 2. Cinnamoroll Squishy Room Light 3. Cardcaptor Sakura Comb 4. Cardcaptor Sakura Pen Case 5. Cardcaptor Sakura Suppi Clip-on Plushie 6. Cardcaptor Sakura - Sakura in Wonderland Series - Kero Plushie 7. Sailor Moon Ribbon Design Earphones 8. Kanahei Piske & Usagi Cup 9. My Melody Smartphone Pouch 10. Pokémon Fastener Pouch 11. My Melody Fluffy Shoulder Bag 

That is the entire list of the Yume Prize items this month :3 they all look so sweet and cute~

For the Mythical Resolutions theme this month, everyone could win various Sailor Moon items; including purses, Headphones, and a Botanical themed pouch!

(Yes this setting is back! My studio is currently full of items we’ve been boxing and moving around.)

Nail clippers can be your best friend, and considering I own at least four pairs (and none of them are exclusively mine), I was delighted to find this fancy little grooming tool in the box. Cute stuff like this would be perfect for NMNL boxes.

The Disney Princess Nail Clippers are large sized and easy to hold, featuring a flip-style top with a mirrored piece beneath it. The top has a lovely image of 1 out of 6 Princesses- and once again I got Ariel. These are produced by the well known Green Bell, who are known for their metal cutting skills.

Er. Right.

I’m a bit concerned over that claim, because while I was putting these items away I somehow got a tiny sliver of metal in my finger. It really hurt, and I can’t think of anything else metal that I touched. Although I could be wrong, so please don’t take my word for it- I’m not saying for sure this caused it to happen.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I really like them! Considering Aurora wasn’t even an option (I wasn’t surprised to see Rapunzel was though) I’m actually happy I got Ariel- although Alice was a choice and I do like her. Anyway, as mentioned above these are big clippers, which I find to be more useful than smaller ones. It’s in a stylish and cute holder allowing for comfortable grip, and I love the elegant design. The missing 5th heart is simply because it might have given me a metal splinter... but I’m really hoping it wasn’t the cause.

Next up is this LARGE and kind of odd Wombat-san & Friends Large Daruma Plushie. These are adorable plush animals that take the form of a Daruma doll, special New Year figures that people can pray to for guidance and help completing ones goals. Then they are burned after a certain period to rid of those negative vibes.

There are six different plush to get from this series- including this gold duck/platypus, a green kiwi bird (I can’t actually tell...), a blue penguin, a pink koala, a purple black bear or seal, and a red wombat ♥ They are all adorable~

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Of course I get the yellow one. If I don’t get my favorite color (pink), I always seem to get Yellow (a color I don’t like). Regardless this isn’t about color, it’s about the product. 

This plush is very squishy, soft, and stretchy. I love it. It’s perfect for cuddling and using as a makeshift pillow. 

Now, here’s an adorable item that I ended up finding a use for- but not the intended one. This is a Marumofubiyori Clear File, and it was available in this style, or a pink striped one.

Rating:  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Normally I’d kind of rate this a bit lower due to lack of use for me. But considering I managed to turn it into a make-shift poster, I’m very thankful to it. It’s bent but that’s pretty much my own fault because it’s been in that box for like 2 months. It’s smooth and so cute, so it’d be perfect for holding papers or stationary. I also like how the back provides some details about the various characters from this series.

Next is another practical and useful item for the new years (although I have to admit, I don’t even pay much attention to dates anymore unless I have an appointment, plans, or a holiday), an adorable Tsum Tsum Calendar.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

It’s a cute calendar and I like it’s small, practical size. It also comes with a sheet of stickers marking important things like parties, special dates, birthdays, and so much more!

My only issue is the stand on the bottom. The recent dog-themed one I got from Kawaii Box has the stand too and it hardly hardly does....

I adore Squishies- so I was delighted by this little cutie waiting to greet me ♥ This is one of many Bread Animal Squishies. I feel like the name is a bit vague though because they are all dogs. 

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

It’s soft and adorable, it reminds me of strawberry bread. However, I did have to mark down a point because they claimed it was bread scented and I I could barely smell anything- but it didn’t remind me of bread. It seemed kind of... potato-like. I really don’t know, but I’m tempted to throw my scented eraser from December’s box in there to make it smell yummy~

Our last item is a fun Gudetama Folk Tale Food Re-Ment. I love Re-ments! I wish we got them more often. But anyway this is a fun little set depicting Gudetama with various Folk Tales and foods. There was 8 possible, and each box includes a little display paper prop, gum, and a sheet advertising a Gudetama puzzle game app.

This is the set I got, and I was so excited because this was the one I wanted!

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I love Re-Ment sets because they’re so small and cute, delicate, but very well done and spot-on in terms of details. They’re also perfect doll accessories if you don’t feel like displaying them. I love them so much! I really wish we go them more often!

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 5 out of 5. I think the reason I was kind of picky over last months box was the lack of a Christmas feeling. It also gave us a lot of small stuff and the price change irked me, so although I did really like a few of the items, this one was an improvement.

Price - 3.5 out of 5. Definitely more fair in comparison to last months box, but not by much.

Quality - 5 out of 5. Everything is perfectly fine

Total Rank: 13.5 out of 15 Cuties. As stated above, this month was a big improvement in comparison to last months. I loved just about everything, and even the item I didn’t think I would use- I somehow did. Choosing a favorite will be difficult~

♥ Cutie Scale ♥

1. Gudetama Folk Food Re-Ment - I’m probably a bit biased since I got the one I really wanted. But he’s so precious, I love all the tiny details~

2. Squishy - I’m a sucker for cute, pink items, and squishies!

3. Daruma Plush - I’m not really a person who favors ducks/platypus’, and the color yellow. It’s still cute though.

4. File - Probably a generic image and design. It’s sweet regardless.

5. Disney Nail Clippers - Elegant and cute, I love it’s fancy design~

6. Tsum Tsum Calendar - I love Tsum Tsum, and the various designs on each month are adorable. Although it feels a bit generic in comparison to the other items.

Alrighty Cuties, after a long and frustrating day I somehow managed to pull out another Review. I feel satisfied by this and I'm ready to hit the pillow! As I mentioned, I plan on getting at least 1 review done later/tomorrow, my NMNL crate. So until then stay cute!