#gonna drip-feed art for a while

[marth-dragalialost]

apologies for being canonically filipino

[poppy-metal]

patrick and art getting u high before bullying u while they take turns swapping between ur mouth and pussy (maybe ass too … if they’re in the mood for it …), mocking you for being all whiney and wet while you plead for them to slow down. they grip and push and mutter crude comments about you and your pussy as if you aren’t even there. sigh.

something about nice guy art being a completely different person when he's with patrick - is it his true self he's been hiding deep down and only able to show around the person closest to him or a facade he's putting on to impress his friend and experience the things he does without being left behind.

but god, it's hot - seeing him like that. hearing the words "pussy." and "fuck" coming from his lips. you're so wet, hearing it.

and patrick is everything you expected and more - he's dirty and hot and all for it but even knowing that it's so fucking intense. he's holding your legs up to your chest with just one arm braced under your knees, while his other hand spreads you apart. your sticky folds split open for them to see your wet slit.

"fuck - get in there, man." he tells art. he's fucking eager to see that pink tongue in your cunt. "eat that shit."

it's the hottest shit he's seen in his life - watching his best friend ear your pussy. he's so languid with it, he's got his own technique and it's hot to watch. he holds you open for art to really get in there, wiggling his tongue in that clenching hole and he can't help being the devil on his shoulder.

"get lower." he goads. "lick her ass - it's so fucking hot, trust me." and arts never eaten ass before, but it's seamless to just listen to patrick - you're so wet and dripping his tongue follows the slick trail down between your cheeks - to the furl of your hole. and he moans.

his own hands come up to hold your cheeks, spread them out so he can lick you deeper.

you gasp and jerk and patrick finally looks up at you to grin - "yeah, you like some tongue in your ass, huh? dirty fucking girl." his fingers slide through your slit, wet and messy, until he finds your entrance and slides two fingers in, quick and easy. you swallow him easily. " -shit, you'd let us do whatever we wanted to do to you right now. whatever we fucking wanted to these slutty little holes - this hot fucking pussy -"

you really would. whatever they wanted. you end up holding your own legs to your chest so you're fully available for them to play with. art tonguing your ass like it's his newest favorite thing- patrick plunging his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt - he feeds art the slick when he comes up for air and he ends up licking around patricks fingers stroking through your slit - and its the sexiest thing you've ever felt.

"I want to fuck -" art exhales, whines it almost. he sounds just as fucked out as you feel, reaching down to squeeze his hard dick.

"mm. you want inside that tight cunt?"

"shit, yeah - "

"pull it out then, donaldson. fucking feed it t'her - she's so wet it's just gonna slide in -"

talking about you like you're not even there - fuck.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c9. Reign of Terror.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Cool about it, boygenious

abstract: listen, I don't even want to hear it. yes, it's Simon. I told you already, I'm gathering intel during this part. don't think too hard about it, this doesn't mean anything. and yes, I think she was telling the truth. I follow my instincts and they only failed me once or twice…

When the routine settled back in, she felt like the Al-Jareena mission was a thing of the past. A week had gone by, she had no news about the mission. Or Arash. She was snapping her fingers following the rhythm of the music. 'And one, two, balancé!' She watched as the girls rehearsed in front of her, moving in pairs, one from each side of the room. They had been going on and on for an hour, the poor girls were exhausted. 'Okay, from here, piquè', she had been demonstrating everything, trying to remember her notes and the changes she had to make to the original choreography. Her blue leotard was sticking on her skin, she could feel sweat dripping down her back and in between her breasts. Her bun was starting to come untied, she kept fixing some shorter hair behind her ears. 'I don't want to see those stiff hands Jenny, please', she resumed, 'piquè, finish on your right leg. Sam and Gemma, you're going to go stage left with two saut de basque'. She stopped talking to demonstrate the jump, which was quite difficult, she had to admit. 'You finish on relevè, arms in fifth position, then repeat to the other side'. She was too old for all this activity, (Jude is delusional, she's 26). She had to catch her breath without letting the girls know she was getting tired. 'Then, Kyla, Cassie and Luna, same thing to the right as soon as the first two finish jumping, same thing to the left with group three.' She instructed and approached the mirrors in the front of the room. 'Let's see it, please'.

She packed her bag while the girls said bye to her. God, did she love being called 'Miss Alba'. She put on sweats, lifting them up over her legs without bothering to remove the pink tights she hated so much. She preferred black ones, they concealed stretch marks, cellulite… See, if the school was hers, she would let her ballerinas pick the colour they wanted. She could see during the lessons some of them were self conscious about their bodies, like she had been for years when she was younger. The way they looked at each other in the mirrors, like they were comparing themselves to the others. Some were thinner, some had bigger bums, bigger breasts, some had more muscle, some you could see their whole ribcage sticking out. School policy, black leotard and pink thighs. They were too young. But still, even Alba herself had some serious issues with her figure, demonstrating in front of everyone was challenging and took a tool on her mental health sometimes. She knew she was fit, don't get me wrong, she had worked fucking hard for years to get to where she was. Strong, lean quads, a good set of abs. She had followed every diet in the world, she learned so much about what foods not to eat, how to get the perfect body… How to be slim and toned and have fat in the right places. She gained back weight after the 'bad year' when she didn't work and decided she was not gonna feed herself anymore. Cooking was just too much back then, she spent hours going on walks with headphones in, on the verge of passing out. She was better now, she only had those thoughts every now and then. They were under control, she was healthy. Let me tell you, her legs, arms, her hips, a fucking work of art. Still, being watched by those young girls who probably spent way too much worrying about their weight and having to be the representation of perfection was daunting. Keep your abs thigh, your foot straight, your hips aligned. Hide how painful it is, hide the fact your calf is cramping and you're losing balance. A game of pretend.

When she got to work the next day, she was surprised to see a special someone waiting for her beside her door. No fucking way. She stopped in her tracks when he saw him, bag hanging from her shoulder, boots clicking on the floor. What are you doing here, how do you know this is my office? Did you ask around? Are you following me? She approached him and he took a step towards her. He had a blue jacket on, no skull mask today, simple black one. She could finally see his hair colour, dirty blonde. He needed a trim. 'Can I help you?' she said. Well well well. 'Not really' he replied, crossing his arms against his chest. He was tall, he was scarily tall. She had to tilt her head to look at him. That position made his arms look even bigger. She no problem admitting how good looking he was. 'Am I in trouble?' she asked tilting her head to the side. His mask moved slightly, but his eyes didn't exactly show a particular emotion. Was he smiling or about to punch her, she didn't know. She had always loved risks. 'You're not' he answered. He wasn't in the mood for jokes maybe. Noted.

She nodded and took a step towards the office door unlocking it and getting in, supposing he would follow. Being in there made her feel slightly more secure. It was a place where she normally had some authority. Not with him she didn't. He closed the door behind him as she put her bag on the desk. The office had two big windows which let in few shy rays of sunshine. She had a couch with a few pillows for the patients and a chair for her. She looked at him and indicated the couch, as to say 'sit'. He really didn't want to. He felt like a patient. He went to therapy before, he just didn't want to be her patient. He stood there in the middle of the room watching Jude take off her coat and hang it on the chair. She wore jeans today. Tight jeans and a jumper. He could see her boots clearer now, they were shiny and the tip of the shoe was round. They looked from the 80's. She had cream coloured socks. She looked younger dressed like that. She looked less professional and more… a civilian, a normal 23 year old girl. He had settled that was her age. Her hair loose, her casual outfit, she looked ready for a walk in the park. He wondered if she walked in the park with her dog. She looked like she had a normal job, like waitressing or maybe she was a painter or a student. She looked like she could go to the movies dressed like that, or play bowling. She looked like she was about to sit down, take her shoes off, get comfortable and tell him about her day, talk about nothing for hours without ever boring him.

She finally spoke, sitting down in her leather chair. 'Why are you here?' she asked, her hands on her thighs. 'You can sit if you want', she added. He still wouldn't move. 'I wanted to apologise for asking about last year, I realised it might be a sensitive topic'. His voice was low and soothing, his British accent heavy on every word. She didn't expect that. That was very considerate of him, the 6 foot soldier standing in the middle of her office like the representation of death that comes knocking at your door. What a strange thing to say man, did you hear stories? Did you hear your friends say I faked it? Cause I know they're saying it. 'Thanks', she said softly, a tone she had never used with him. She tried not to get triggered by his words, not to let her mind wonder back to the event he was referring to. She had to fight hard to not let her brain spiral, a fight against herself. She always seemed to lose. 'It's just something really bad, I don't like to think about it more than I already do', she explained. His eyes were fixated on her like she was a wild animal about to go extinct. He nodded and silence filled the room.

'How did the mission go?' She asked even if she already knew the answer. She was just making conversation. He didn't want to stay too much. He thought about seeing her, he thought about talking to her again and now that she was there, now that he purposely went to her office to talk, he wanted to run. 'Good. Good, yeah, thanks to you, actually'. He finally sat down. That was what patients saw then. The desk behind her, the windows and her, on the leather chair. He tried to imagine her during sessions. Her back straight, compassionate eyes, maybe a notebook on her lap. The window on her right illuminated only half of her face. Making her half an angel. She wasn't commenting on his answer, she squinted her eyes. 'Are you saying I was right and you were wrong?' she asked. Cheeky. She wasn't smiling, cause she knew she was right all along. 'I'm saying you got lucky.' She made him weak, his mouth was dry. 'So what are you gonna do next? I might get lucky again', she said. Could he tell her? She already knew so much. He decided he could share, vague answers only. 'We find where they took Khorram, we'll probably find Arash as well. We leave in a week.' She kept biting her lower lip, not in a provocative way. She was thinking. 'What did he do exactly? He's the one with that snake flag right?' she asked. She was informed. She had seen the flag she was referring to on the news and on social media. It was a green flag with a snake print, with red eyes. A symbol. 'The viper, yes. We've been following him for some time. Human trafficking, mainly.' Her expression was of disgust. 'He formed an army, he controls the main cities, he lets people starve, public executions…' he decided to stop there. She nodded, she got the gist. 'Makes sense…' she murmured. 'Reign of Terror kinda thing.' There was silence again between them.

'Reign…' he felt bad that he didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't have a degree. Jude had probably 4 or 5. But no, he wasn't that cultured. It made him feel small. Guns and war, he was the best. It was the second time he didn't know what she was talking about, she said something about a Little King or some shit. (It was the Little Price, the book). 'French Revolution, doesn't matter', she cut him off. Don't make me feel stupid Jude. He got up saying he better be going, she did too, she said 'of course'. She offered him her hand to shake. You're Italian, he decided. The hand gestures, the physical touch. Yes, to Simon shaking your hand twice was considered physical touch. She wasn't British, she was too polite and beautiful for it. How do you speak English so well then. What made you come here? What's your real name something Italian like Julia or Sarah? He reached for her hand, glad he was wearing gloves this time so he couldn't feel her skin. Less of her to think about. She looked at him, then looked down to their hands, still holding it. Her soft, caramel skin, with those dainty black nails against his skeleton printed gloves. She turned his hand so she could see the skeleton print and smiled, with her head tilted down. A smirk. She had dimples. Her eyelashes were almost touching her eyebrows. He let go of her hand and turned around, regretting he didn't wear his other mask. Would have hidden the fact that he was blushing.

notes: I was listening to 'cool about it' by boygenius when writing this. also, writing ballet is fucking hard… how do I describe the pain. also also, Jude's shoes are those chunky coquette Mary Jane shoes that you wear with socks.

notes: Julia and Sarah are not correct spellings of Italian names, more on the American side. makes sense Simon doesn't know how to spell the Italian versions. (they are Giulia and Sara). How are you guys doing, you all good? You guessed it I'm still taking my exams and working and being clinically insane and unbelievably tired.

love, mare.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[streaminn]

Coffee Enid [#2] 👍

After that faithful day of Enid serving her coffee and freshly baked pastries, she didn't think any of it about the punk, gothic, business woman???

Enid didn't know what to think of the short 5'1 woman that hardly overlooked the metal counter of her stand. But she was cute, in a death-punk way??? So many questions in the poor wolf's mind but she didn't think any of it.

Even after receiving a $100 tip in her jar JUST after she opened and served her FIRST coffee and pastry of the day.

However, that tip changed the game for her, at least in the equipment of one better mixer that wasn't a hand-me-down from her bestie, who also was her employee that did deliveries at their bakery. Listen, the wolf had an act for people, so she wanted to be on the front lines, and selling coffee.

Bitch wanted to bust out her lattee-making art skills she learned on TikTok and cafes!

But yes, Enid needed to conduct business and better improvements with her team aka her best friend group, so she was gone for 4 days, her usual clientele knew her situation so she didn't think any of it.

But to her surprise, someone was waiting for her at her stand, standing there like a stray cat looking for its owner or "hand that feeds them", Enid was quite shocked so she said something.

"Hey! It's you that left that tip, thank you so much for that and I am sorry for the wait!" Enid said unlocked the stand and set up for the day.

"It's not a problem, I give credit where credit is due."

"Oooh, so you must have losts of credit?" The wolf laughed.

"Yes."

Enid looked at the woman confused for a moment before laughing and fixing the final machine to ready, while also putting on some drip coffee because people like drip too, no hate.

"So what can I get you today?" Enid grinned leaning on the counter.

"... Quad over ice, and... Whatever you prefer on the side."

Enid raised a brow as she smiled. "Coming right up, may take a moment."

"Take your time."

When Enid prepared the goth's quad she spared fleeting glances at her, before humming to herself. The wolf fixed the coffee just like the last time and popped the lid on it, and grabbed a fresh prepackaged sandwich, a simple cold-cut turkey sandwich with bacon and tomatoes.

She handed her order to the goth, "You seem like you skip meals, that's not good so I packed a sandwhich for you, hope you like it!"

"How do you-" The goth grumbled but gently grabbed the bag and coffee, almost bashfully. The wolf couldn't tell, she looked too. Uh. Murderous.

So she said the total, to which the goth paid with the exact change and a large tip again, and then left without another word.

"She gotta be a serial killer."

"a serial lady killer," Enid mutters off handedly before snorting and going to make herself something to drink

Goth killer is pretty after all, maybe next time Enid could ask for a name instead of this extra digits?

Or, she could not do that

Smh Enid, where's her professionalism!?

Well, it's still nice company. Always a joy to see that scathing glare and the way her brow furrows.

It's... Cute, one can say. in a 'I am totally gonna murder you,' way.

Like a cat!

Oh that's a lovely image

[lillaxtrigger]

The empty void of desolate shadow parts as light fixtures above flash to cast their illumination across the featureless concrete room, revealing the only thing worth of note being a pair of human sized sleep pods fashioned from a couple of tanning beds resting at the end of the chamber. Nearing these pods from the other side of the room be the deadly duo of mob boss brothers; Tury studiously marching towards the beds, while Cen far more casually strolls alongside his sibling. “Lo and behold, Tury; the gateway of our evolution. When we awaken from these chambers, our abilities will no longer be constrained by their crude limitations. We shall no longer be constricted to the bounds of mortal men, for we will be standing among the realm of gods.” the spacial reconstituting mob boss poetically claims. “And, you’re certain of the structural foundation of these chambers are sound?” Cen is concerned with. “I’m sure they are, bro. We’ve put our faith in the dear old doc so far in everything else tech related; I’m sure the sparks of the psychic stone he stashed in these bad boys’ll soak up through our skin nice and fine.” “Yes, I don’t doubt that. I am more concerned over the structural integrity of these pods. I understand that December had to hasten their construction to meet our deadline, but their outward appearance fails to lend manner of…reliability. I think I can still see parts of the tanning bed’s branding still left on.” “You’re making way too many knots out of this simple string, Tury. You’re always telling me that it don’t matter the way something looks, and all that matters is the way it performs; the whole not judging a book by its cover routine. Doc just got done testing one of these on some random street grunt just last week; Rando something, I don’t know. Point is that the test went off without a hitch, so we got the doc’s guarantee here.” “Well, I suppose if its been properly tested.”

A sharp hiss escapes from within the pods as both brothers crack them wide open, unvieling beyond their shells a comforting plush line of bedding waiting for them to lay upon; all with it equipped with a vital drip feed. “Comfy. Say, how long are we supposed to snooze in these things again?” questions Cen. “Judging from how long the doctor claimed for the scions powers to ferment, I wager around a week or so.” Tury answers. “A whole week!? Man, the art expose is supposed to be this weekend! There were supposed to be new original pieces by Jon Esroce. Do you know how rare that man comes out with new pieces?” “Clearly enough for you to ponder over the worth of our accomplishments.” “Mrrr…” “Cen, remember what we are doing all this for. Surely missing a simple art showcase is worth returning to our rightful place. Once we undergo our powerful evolution, no gallery in the world will be able to capture the potent strength of our metamorphosis.” “Yeah…right. I’m just pretty bummed that were gonna miss so much.” the space bending psychic laments. “I promise you, this investment shall lead us both back into our family’s saving grace.” the time controlling businessman assures.

Its after this brief exchange that both of the mob bosses crawl into the cradling comfort held within the pods, injecting the IV drips into their arms before resting atop their pillow top inside; the pod lids beginning to shut as they comfortably lay themselves to rest. With a few brief moments before the pod doors seal themselves, Cen takes the chance to speak up with: “Yo, Tury.” “Yes.” “See you on the other side?” “I look forward to it.” claims Tury, giving his brother an assuring grin before the lids shuts. The moment the twin pods are sealed nice and tight, an incredible luminescence shines from underneath their lids; the black and white aura of the brother’s intensely glowing to engulf the entire chamber in their light.

Returning to the realm of consciousness, Sunny opens his eyes to reawaken to nothing but darkness surrounding him; the boy failing to gaze what lies beyond see past his fingertips. Beyond the lack of any light, the boy almost immediately notices the fowl odor permeating around him; a stench so pungent, that he is forced to pinch his nose to keep the stink at bay. In wondering where he had dropped down into, Sunny delves into the pocket of his tattered coat to pull out a small flashlight; the same light Thursotte had when they first dropped down in here. Upon flipping its switch, the flashlight beams through the shadows before the boy to reveal what lies beyond their shadowy veil; Sunny discovering himself standing among the confines of a room holding several lengths of pipes and water channels stretching out across the room. Tar black sloppily drips out from the corners of the pipes; the way this mass stretches down onto the floor as it falls from the cracks lending the look of liquidized rubber.

The young boy then aims his light upwards to discover where he had dropped down from; the busted remains of an air vent cover just barely hanging on to the ceiling hinges. Its this site that has him recollects how he had fallen down into this dank pit, remembering how Tuesco had chucked him into the air vent before the swarm of mechanical manta descended upon them; the last thing he saw being the solid air psychic’s smile before descending. And coming to the bottom of the boy’s fall, Sunny assumes crashing against the vent grate waiting for him is what had knocked him out; the kid rubbing the back of his head to feel a small bump left from his fall.

In wondering of where to go from here that the sound of running water catch’s Sunny’s ears, following the distinct noise to a grate standing at the end of the room; the collection of gunk flowing pipes being the only thing allowed past this vent. The young kid approaches the grate to peer what lies beyond, finding it leading down into a tunnel of the city sewer; the rancid river of waste flowing in the middle of the tunnel. Discovering this potential escape from the deranged doctors facility has him think back to what Tuesco had made him swore; brushing his palm against the steel as he remembers the air psychic words. “If things get hairy in any way, I need you to run and hide. Don’t think about me, don’t think about the mission. I want you to escape the moment the situation turn sour.” Considering the dangers that wait for him above, the times he had come close with facing his own demise, even still feeling the small burns and wounds he had been inflicted with; simply escaping from a situation he wasn’t even meant to be in feels all too tempting. “Maybe we can’t bring the life you had with your folks back, but that doesn’t mean you should throw away the rest of it, dammit. You only have so much time to be a kid, and I think you should enjoy it while you’re still one.”

But in this moment of uncertainty, Sunny recollects the reason he had brave his way down into the depths of the sewers and into this den of metallic menace. It wasn’t just a desire to prove oneself, it wasn’t just a bid to repay the debt he believed Wedsle deserved for slaughtering the murderer of his parents; it was something far deeper. The kindness these humble strangers had bestowed him among the lowest of his short life thus far, to simply abandoned them in their time of need? No, no more running. The boy’s resolve holding firm, Sunny turns his sites away from what could be his only chance to escape to instead the smashed open air vent he had fallen from; determined to climb his way back up and return to the others.

Swift to come back to the realm of the waking, Frida is next to open her eyes and discover nothing but darkness surrounding her; only able to feel the floor beneath her feet as she stands back up. The dimensional psychic slinks her hand into the inside of her jacket to pull out an uzi, aiming it out towards whatever may emerge out from the void. “Oh please. You should know that won’t work by now.” she then hears echo out from the shadows. “Where the hell sort of dank shithole did you dump me?” Frida demands to know. “Excuse you! This “Shithole” is a marvel in test chamber design built by yours truly. Don’t you dare insult the same engineering mind that has captured you.” the doctor barks, genuinely insulted by her comment. “Yeah, what’s so special about this hovel?” “Allow me to demonstrate.”

The dark void that surrounds the dimensional psychic starts to be swiftly replaced as tiles of the shadows flip away, giving way to a sandy beach with a bright and Sunny vista; the crystal clear waters of the ocean reflecting the sunlight beaming overhead. Behind her towered the visage of a colossal coastal cliff side of which the sunlight bouncing of the ocean shines upon, shimmering off the craggy rock incline. Frida is left taken aback by not just the sudden and drastic change of scenery, but how natural it all felt; even if she knew for sure what surrounds her was nothing but artificial, the ambiance, Sunny heat, and the salty ocean breeze would be more than plenty to make someone else think otherwise. “Amazing, is it not? These chambers I have so meticulously crafted hold the power to mimic even the most outlandish and treacherous environments known to man; erecting scenery so accurately real, one would mistake it for reality.” “Okay, impressive so far, I gotta admit. But there a reason you decide to drop me down in a nice sandy ocean side? You think the sound of crashing wave’ll be relaxing enough for me to forget putting a bullet through your brains.” jests Frida. “Ha! Oh no, my dear wall hopper. Though the sand that surrounds you are calm soothing and serene, the depths of the sea before you are eager to unleash their fury.”

The calm waves of the ocean suddenly thrash across the sandy beach as something massive breaches from the surface; a crustaceous sea beast so astoundingly large, its size rivals a tiny, single mound island. Fresh out from the deep, the monolithic monster shifts its eye stalks over towards the lone woman standing in the middle of the beach; its claw opening wide as it starts to shuffle out from the waters. “Is that a crab?” she wonders aloud. “This is the prototype of an automaton I have built to aid in construction and demolition, its claws capable of crushing solid concrete in half with but a single snap.” the doctor elaborates. “Okay, but why a crab?”

This minor mystery is put on hold as the chromatic crustacean thrusts its open claw towards the gunwoman, with the limbs teeth finely sharpened like a razor toothed comb; Frida dives down into the sand beneath her feet to escape from the lunging claw. Scuttling across the shoreline, the dimensional psychic leaps out from the sands to dive directly into the rocky cliff face; the sea beast attacking her left undeterred as it crawls onto shore. Frida is forces to veer constantly as the colossal crustacean continues to pound its limbs against the hard rock visage, swerving left and right to evade the claws that tear through the rock with its rending teeth. As the doctor had described, the automaton’s pincers rip through the cliff face’s hard stone with such efficient ease, one would mistake the rock to be nothing more than brittle clay.

Once scampering far enough up the towering cliff side, Frida peers back down to find the chrome crustaceans pulling one of its claws out from the rock; the gunwoman attempting to act fast as she reaches inside her denim jacket. Okay doc, think the guns I got are weak shit? How bout I show you one of my bigger bad boys just waiting to make its booming retort. Yet before the eager dimensional psychic could so much as pull out the powerful weapon she had in mind, she witnesses the gigantic ocean crab lift its legs up off the shore sands and stabs them into the rugged incline; the mechanical monolith scaling up the coast one leg at a time as it continues its upwards pursuit. You gotta be kidding me.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Satette frustratingly growls. From where the young woman dashes does she stand atop one of several broken up rock spires that tower out from the depths of the sea, suspended countless feet above the baron wide ocean that surrounds her; nothing but deep blue for what seemed to be miles on end. This salty situation goes from bad to worse as she faces down another terror of the ocean, forced to fight against the wrath of a giant sea snake; its overwhelming length raveling around the rock as it climbs up one of the spires as its dragonic eyes remain locked to the lively psychic akin to a beast staring at its next catch. “A wonder of beauty, isn’t it? A project I have carefully crafted after one of the ocean’s greatest mythological creatures; the tale of a serpent so terrifying, its said to have claimed the lives of countless that dare swim through its waters. Cower in fear of the legendary sea dragon!” December dastardly declares.

The dragonic head of the serpent springs off the side of the craggy pike to launch after its much smaller target, with its scaly fins fluttering about as it careens through the air; Satette attempting to bolt across the length of rock she stood on in fleeing the beast. Though the monster manages to miss the young woman, its massive body crashes against the spire with such impact that shatters its stone; the pieces of rock along with Satette sent hurdling across the isles. Careening over to the side of another towering rock formation, Sat clutches against its rugged visage before she could plummet hundreds of feet down towards the sea below. “Beginning to think you might have some strange obsession with the ocean.” claims Sat. “An astute observation. Many have marveled over the wondrous forms of wildlife that occupy our seas; an environment so vast, so deep, so fundamentally different to the world above, it seems almost alien. The abundance of creatures that inhabit those waters, all of them having branched to a radically different line of evolution opposed to the other species of our planet. How can such natural designs crafted from those depth not be revered as awe inspiring. To experiment over how such forms may benefit us, how can one not?”

A look back to the serpentine sea beast beneath her, Satette witnesses the monster begin to slither up the neighboring tower of rock, noticing a peculiar beige luminescence seeping out from its saw like teeth as it ascends. Seeing the dragon like leviathan cease its rise to aim its glowing head at her, Satette starts to realize what the light escaping its mouth was and lets go off the rocky spires side as the monster opens its mouth. Out from the depths of its throat does a stream of electrical beige power come shooting up across the chasm and blasting the spire to chunks; the lively psychic plummeting away from the explosion by the seat of her skirt. Of course it can breathe lightning, why wouldn’t it? Before the young woman could so much as think of how to stop her descent, she is suddenly met with the maw of the colossal chrome monster as it plummets at her; the young woman moments away from swallowed.

But just as the metallic monster was ready to chomp down upon its prey, a bright natural green light flashes from the young woman as a dozen or so little rats come scurrying out to transform from the aura; their bones and flesh forming a big grate to fend of the beasts bite and keep its mouth from closing. No matter how hard the synthetic sea serpent tries to clamp its mouth closed, the bones of the countless rats keep its mouth wide open to keep Satette from plummeting down its throat. “What!? What did you…Are all those rats…Did you just pull out a rat king!? Where did you even-” “Sewer.” Satette swiftly answers. “Frankly, I don’t know what else I was expecting.”

Noticing the thinly bones of her pack of rats beginning to break under the sea dragons jaw, Sat leaps out from the monster’s mouth as she reforms the rodent to go with her; the lively psychic narrowly evading the sea serpents chomping teeth before she careens across its metal scale shaft. As the length of the beast brushes by her, Satette finds herself hurdling towards one of the dragon snake’s fins and commands her collection of rats to transform into a gnarl toothed maw wrapped around her arm. Coming to the sea serpent’s limbs, the maw that Sat had just made bites down upon the monster’s fluttering fin to hook herself on its side; the young woman holding on as tightly as she could as the dragonic beasts delves towards the ocean.

Violent bursts of flame scatter across the top of a broken ship as Thursotte sprint across its deck, fleeing from several fiery mortars hurdling through the air after him; the blazing bombs engulfing more of the ship in its enraging inferno. With nearly most of the ship he stands on encompassed by the pursuing flames, the young man makes a bounding leap right off the tip of the bow to escape; Thurs dropping down upon the deck of another neighboring vessel wrought with disrepair. Peering around over where he could run, he finds several other busted and crashed ships left stranded across the clusters of rocks that entomb them to their watery graves; each of them left in different states of decay as they’re all left to rot among this ship cemetery. Just before he attempts to plan out the best possible route to take among this spread of destroyed old vessels, something breaches out from the waters below to thwart his escape; the shining sun glistening against the chrome skin of mechanical dolphin.

Spurting out from the depths of its blowhole be several balls of raging fire that rise through the sky and plummet down after the fleeting psychic; Thursotte darting across the ship deck as the mortars crash down like descending meteors. Furiously erupting upon impact, the bouts of fire that spew out spread across the deck; its aged and brittle planking set ablaze as the ship is engulfed in mere moments. Fleeing from the disastrous blaze, Thurs’ orange aura flares as makes a daring charge towards the burning ships center pillar and tackles against its withered wood with all his might; his chaotic power spreading across the giant pole as it topples over. Crashing down upon the deck with a terrible quake, pieces of the wooden floor boards are sent flying all across the deck as the pole smashes straight through the ships hall; the vessels structural integrity crumbling at the seems. Leaping right over some of the bellowing flames that burn across the crumbling ship, Thursotte makes a bounding jump over to the neighboring vessel; the burning pieces of the ship he leaves behind falling into the ocean as he lands.

There remains little time for the young man to catch his breath however, as he witnesses the android dolphin again make a soaring jump out from the sea; its blowhole unleashing an eruption of fiery mortars as soon as it breaches the water. Its while darting away from the downpour of fiery bombs, Thursotte hears the voice of the dear doctor chime in among the ongoing chaos to boast how: “Stupendous, isn’t it? The blazing might of this submersible hydro weapon has been equipped with the firepower, no pun intended, to lay battleships to waste; Engulfing all within its fiery wrath!”

“Okay, get it all so far. But you made it a dolphin because…” Thurs questions. “The evolution that the creatures of the deep blue sea had taken is one that should be admired; even the species closest to mammals, have adopted such unique forms. The slick majesty of the dolphin, the ferocious might of the great orca, the overwhelming size of the gigantic blue whale; each of them having taken such radical courses of evolutionary change swimming in the depths of our briny blue.” “And the hydrodynamic body of the dolphins form lends it superior swimming control across the bodies of water to evade even the most persistence submarines and underwater wildlife, that’s why you chose a dolphin, right?” finishes Thursotte. “Yes, you get it! Most of my superiors simply scoff the idea outright, they herald no glimmer of imagination over the practicality of my design. If only they would see it the way you do, our syndicate could branch out beyond the scuffles of the asphalt lands and to the goldmine of the coasts. The international sea trading routes will be under the control of our thumb!” The cusp of their conversation is punctuated by the fiery blast that the chaos triggering psychic flees from; Thursotte diving right off the plank of a ship to escape from the raging inferno.

Finding himself submerged within the depths of the briny sea, Tuesco quickly sinks down to evade the prickly sting of a metal spike that torpedoes through the waters; the pike missile plunging into the side of a coral reef before exploding. The layer of solid air he had encased his head in lets him take a second to breathe from the close call, soon looking back to the abnormal automaton who had shot at him; Tues left concerned over the mechanical puffer fish boasting the size of a small submersible swimming after him. Across its chromatic body stick out numerous, sharp tipped spines much like the one that nearly struck the solid air psychic; a couple of these pikes fire out from the fish’s body to pursue its target like a fierce volley of scud missiles. The spiraling pack of spikes rocketing towards him, the air solidifying psychic does his best in attempting to evade the barrage by kicking off from the reefs below; the explosions he jumps away from spawning a slew of bubbles that begin to rise past him and up towards the surface.

Yet in the middle of swimming away from the blasts, Tuesco peers back to discover one more explosive spike moments away from skewering him; the tip of the missile just a few feet away from his face. The air solidifying psychic acts fast to swipe some of the bubbles that brush past him and uses his powers to control the oxygen trapped inside, gathering the collection of bubbles in front of him as the spike was about to hit him. Contact with the bubbles ends up causing the spine to explode, yet spares Tues of its full brunt as he is simply hurdled back; the collection he wields having been formed into a sturdy shield. The force of the blast sends the psychic of solid air careening right towards a wall covered in sea sponges; the sponges name betraying him as Tuesco feels the impact against the hard rock wall all the same.

There remains little time to process the pain he feels however as he witnesses the mechanical puffer fish continue to blow out several more missiles from its chrome hide; Tues getting off the wall to stand on top of it as the swarm of spikes approach. He manages to spring himself off the sponge covered wall before the barrage could reach him, the missiles instead exploding against the tall reef and reducing the rock to pieces; the reef debris scattering alongside a myriad of bubbles. It’s watching the assortment of bubbles ascend upwards that he turns his site over to the shield he had made with them; the face of the clear barrier holding only minor cracks from withstanding the blast from earlier. From these facts, he then glances back to the robotic blowfish swimming towards him to notice the spikes it launches come out from the holes across its body.

Tuesco starts to swim his way down to the rocky ocean floor below as the deadly automaton unleash another salvo of spiny scud missiles; the psychic of solid air diving down as quickly as he could as the barrage starts to close in. The moment his feet touch the rock solid surface, he leaps right off the floor just before the missiles rocket at him; not dodging the explosion, but catching the blast of resulting bubbles as he’s rides the explosion towards the nearing puffer fish. While careening at the chromatic imitation of one of the sea’s most volatile creature, Tuesco congeals the collection of bubbles he had gathered from the explosion to conjure a pair of clear domes; both of which he clasp together to trap the explosive launching balloon fish. The moment that the chromatic puffer attempts to launch a flurry of its spiny missiles at the air solidifying psychic, the tips of the spikes poke against the transparent shell and explode inside its cage, leaving the machine to suffer the full force of its own payload.

Once the last of the explosions in the shell go off, Tuesco dissolves the cage to collect the bubbles within; the foggy waters clearing away to reveal the battered and busted scraps of the mechanical menace that hounded him. His moment of satisfied glory is swept aside when seeing a large shadow sweep across the ocean floor, a site that which begs him to glance back and see what could cast such shade; what he discovers behind him making his stomach drop. Swimming after him be an entire swarm of spiny chromatic blow fish, armed and ready to unleash their stock of explosive spines; a site of which makes a couple of bubbles blow out from within the air psychic’s pants.

All feels eerily quiet throughout one of the facilities steel halls, with the silence accompanied by a waving light that shimmers against the reflective chrome wall; not a soul to disrupt the near tranquility. That is until the grate above begins to tremble; something on the other side wedging its way through within the vents, all with a magenta power coating it from top to bottom. As soon as the grate is popped off the ceiling, it and the child psychic that pried it off tumble down to the hard steel floor; their descent muffled from Sunny’s influence over sound. And while the kid was still silencing himself, he opts to scream out from the rough fall just to get it all out; not a single decibel of his screams so much as escaping. Augh! Ow! Ach! Oooh! God, that hurt!

Once the mild pain from the fall starts to subside, Sunny’s attention is drawn over to the waving lines of light that glimmer across the chrome walls; the manner of which they skirt back and forth across the metal surface nearly mesmerizing the boy. What the…where did I… When turning back to see what could create such a glorious show of light is he left in further awe upon finding a subversive view from under the New York waters. The craggy rocky bottom, the spots of seaweed and moss, the schools of local sea life; all of it clear as crystal to behold from the other side of the glass window. The light that bares down across the wall behind him shines from the ocean waves above; the rays of natural sunlight glistening against the ocean’s surface to bend and refract across the seafloor and slip into the chrome hallway. Wow. Its all so clear to see. How far down are we?

Sunny breaks his sites away from the ocean view to glare down both ways of the hall; the stretching corridors lending the boy the rising sense of worrying confusion and doubt. Oh no! I just realized, I don’t know where I’m going. How am I supposed to save the others if I don’t know where they are? I could be looking for hours and hours around here and they could be dead by the time I find them. Oh god, this was a huge mistake. What made me think I could bail them out, when I can’t even find where any of them-

The young boy’s spiraling dread suddenly cease when out from the deep blue sea does a sizable fish bump against the glass, causing a low trembling bang to reverberate across the metal halls. Such an unexpected loud noise baits the attention of what machine Manta flutter nearby, swarming out from both sides of the hall towards the kid; Sunny backs away to the wall behind him as the school of faux sea creatures close in. But when wrapped in his silencing aura, not one of them bare any mind to the kid as he watches them all focus their attention across the window; their stingers ready to fire as the glass shakes from the impact. As the window start to settle back into silence, the armada of metal manta ray dim their tails as they all withdraw from the scene; all of them splitting off to resume their programmed patrol routes.

Watching the last of the droids float away, Sunny start to recount what Tuesco had mentioned relating to them; that their programming are wired to sense one thing. That’s right. These things are sensitive to noises. No wonder they freaked out. I mean I would rush over too if I suddenly heard a loud bang from really…far…away… Hey…If those glorified tin cans can track things through following sound, why can’t I? There’s practically nothing else down here that can make such mayhem besides the others, hearing where they might be shouldn’t be that hard. I just have to do what they told me about my powers and focus.

Heeding the pieces of wisdom that the crew had advised him over his sound controlling abilities, Sunny closes his eyes to let nothing but the ambient drone of the metallic halls wash over him; the boy putting every ounce of focus he has in listening what may be dwelling down in these metal depths. Come on. Gotta concentrate, everyone is counting on me. Letting his power spread throughout the hallways of the facility, Sunny’s magenta power lends his hearing a boost in range so extent and so potently focused, he could hear the engines from the dozen or so manta that float across; the boy brushing aside their quiet jets to listen deeper through the corridors. Its among listening deeply for even the tiniest pin drop that his heightened sense of hearing manages to catch something sounding off in the distance. The loud clangs of metal, the sound of breaking rock, the bangs of bullets being fired. Frida! Recognizing the distinct ruckus of his gun toting guardian, Sunny sprints off towards the source of the chaos he had heard not too far off; the young boy determined aid the others in their dangerous heist. Hang on, everyone! I’m on my way!

The towering beach incline that the dimensional psychic ascends begins to crumble apart as the colossal chromatic crab continues to feverishly pursue her in its crawling climb chasing after her; whole chunks of rock breaking off the cliff face to plummet past the metallic monster. In attempting to ward off the chrome crustacean, the gun woman aims her weapons down to the crab before firing out several more shots against the mechanical terror; not one of her bullets able to penetrate through its tough steel shell. Dammit, most of my arsenal can’t even put a dent in it. What the hell is it’s shell made of? Scuttling after its wall merging target, the chrome crustacean thrust its powerful steel pincers after her once more in hopes of rending the woman with its saw teeth lined claws; Frida leaping out from the wall a moment before the crab strikes against the cliff and descending down towards its reflective top. Don’t wanna waste the only rocket I got on this over glorified steel toy. So on to plan B. If I can’t break through its shell, I’ll just have to slip my way in.

The moment that the dimensional psychic lands upon the robotic wall climber, she merges into the surface of its steel shell and starts to slide all around its body in search of someplace vulnerable; a crack in the automatons defenses. Yet no matter where she slides across its chrome dome, Frida fails to find even a fraction of a flaw anywhere across its steel plating; not a hole, shaft, screw, or slip at all to be found. What the hell? Every single bit of this piece of steel seafood is pressed in tighter than the virgin Mary's chastity belt. I can’t find even a single spot to slip my way in.

Frida swift search across the steel shell is brought to an end the moment she breaches back to the 3rd dimension to catch her breath, the chromatic crustacean quick to pluck her right from its hide and entrap her in the clutches of its pincers; Frida feeling the claws teeth brush across her torso as it starts to squeeze its grip. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Its already digging in my body, I can’t slip out! Don’t know where the rest of the gang are, can’t contact anyone, we don’t know where the stone is, and I’m seconds away from being sawed right in half! Its all going so wrong! I thought I could handle this like it was jut a usual mission; like we’d be out of here in an hour flat. Weds was spot on. This is way bigger than I was ready for, and now thanks to my fucking brilliant planning, I’m gonna die down here. Just hope that the other’s had the right idea of ditching me.

Its on the cusp of her hopeless situation that her attention returns to the beach cliff face above them, noticing a section of the rock furiously quaking from a deep bass hum that seep out from the other side; it isn’t until pieces of magenta glimmer out from between the rocks that she starts to understand. That aura? Is that from… All at once, the patch of rock burst forth against a blast of sound waves to break a piece of the illusion; the dimensional psychic alarmed to witness the sound controlling kid crashing in from the other side of the simulated cliff side “Sunny!?”

Plummeting down from the beach cliff face, the kid ends up falling right on top of the metallic crustacean with a hefty clang; one so sudden and unexpected, that the grip it held upon the dimensional psychic loosens; Frida almost immediately taking her chance to slip from its saw tooth clutches. The very moment she escapes from the chrome crustacean, Frida leaps atop the automatons head to swiftly scoop the sound controlling kid out from danger; the gun woman springing off the steel shelled robot with the boy in her arms to merge back into the side of the cliff.

Holding their head back up from the cliff’s 2nd dimension for air, the very first words to come out of the gun woman’s mouth for the boy are: “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were with Tuesco.” “I was, that is until things started to escalate and he tossed me down a vent. I came back up to try and find where he was, but I ended up tumbling in here instead. Hey, is that a giant crab?” the boy wonders, glaring down to the bottom of the cliff. From near the end of the towering cliff face does the chromatic crustacean rapidly ascend after the two of them, with Frida left darting her sites across the section of rocky incline and utters how: “Dammit. Barely got anywhere to put you.” “Well I know what to put in this cranky crab.” the young boy boasts, pulling out his pistol to aim down against the approaching crustacean. “Kid, wait!” As soon as Sunny pulls the trigger to unleash but a single shot, the recoil inflicted from the gun nearly has Sunny slipping out from the wall; the bullet he had fired out clanking against the rising automaton’s shiny steel shell. Holding onto the kid, Frida clutches Sunny by the leg tightly to keep him from plummeting down with his wayward shot; the kid staring down as he’s dangling off the side.

“Nrgh. The hell is wrong with you? You ain’t accounting for the recoil before you even aim! A second too late grabbing you and you’d have wound up being caught in that crab’s clutches.” scolds Frida. “Is it supposed to be vibrating like that?” “Are you even listening…Hang on, what?” “The crab down there. Its shaking weird.” Peering down where the chrome crustacean climbs, the dimension psychic discovers the kids claims to be true and discovers the plating of the crabs shiny shell trembling as Sunny’s magenta aura runs across its surface; Frida’s keen eye letting her see spots of its chrome carapace loosening. “Uh, kid. The hell did you just do?” “I shot at it with a bullet holding some of my sound power. It worked on one of the manta, figured it could work with this thing. I guess its too big to take down with sound waves, huh.” “Maybe not to bring down, but might be enough for me to work with.” debates the dimensional psychic. “Of course, you can’t do much with just that dinky peashooter. How’d you like an upgrade to your arsenal?”

“And you’re sure about me having this?” worries Sunny, cradling one of Frida’s uzi’s as he stands atop a rock sticking out from the cliff. “I mean a pistol is one thing, but what if I wind up accidentally falling off or hitting you.” “Don’t worry about it, kid. The recoil shouldn’t do much as long as you keep yourself propped up on that rock. I just need you to unload everything that bad boy’s got as soon as I dive into its shell, you got it?” “I think so.” “Good, now keep your trigger finger steady and get ready to bounce.” Upon relaying these instructions, Frida breaches from the cliff face to drop down after the rising chrome crustacean; Sunny keeping himself stiff standing against the piece of rock as he watches the woman dive.

Witnessing its target plummeting down to its pinching grasp, the steel shell android thrusts its open claws after her; its collection of saw teeth still moist from where she had been caught before. Yet the moment the giant crab attempts to clamp down upon her does Frida merge into the shining surface of its second dimension; the wall merging gun woman slithering down its limb and onto its chrome carapace. The moment he see’s her slip her way onto the automaton’s shining hide, Sunny pulls the trigger on the rapid fire gun he holds to rain down a downpour of bullets against the chrome crustacean; every round fired out from that gun enveloped in a coating of the boy’s magenta light. Each piece of led that strikes the machine sends out a torrential crash of reverberating sound waves all across its steel plating; its tough frame quaking violently from the constant rain of bullets from above. The gaps in its thought to be air tight shell exposed from the continual trembling lends Frida the moment she sought to break into the real machine hiding behind the carapace; the gun woman wasting no time dishing out a whole gun show inside this piece of faux sea food. Sparks, bolts, and chips come spilling out from within the giant crab as the dimensional psychic causes havoc; the android going haywire as its torn asunder from within.

Young Sunny’s constant rain of bullets soon ceases as the uzi Frida had lent him stops; the last of its magazine having been spent. All Sunny could do at that point was peer down to the chrome crab crumbling apart at the seems; his concern growing as he finds not a single spec of the dimensional psychic along its battered and beaten shell. The boy takes in a sharp gasp as he watches the crumbling crustacean lose its hold upon the cliff face and begins to drop down towards the sea below, dreading that the dimensional psychic may still be trapped inside. Sunny’s worries are dashed when witnessing Frida emerge out from the surface of the steel sea creature to make a bounding leap to the cliff side; the wall merging psychic delving into the rocky face to scale after him.

Quickly ascending up after the boy, Frida sweeps Sunny right off the rock he stood atop and makes a hasty climb to the piece of fake cliff the sound controlling kid had broke in from; the gun woman asking him: “Think you can break us out the same way you broke in?” “Let me see.” the kid tells her, his magenta aura flaring as they close in on the spot. Reaching the exact piece of the simulation he had breached, Sunny slaps his hand against the cliff face to send forth a wave of vibrations beyond the false wall and against the countless pieces of metal that resonates across the illusion; the threads of the simulation fracturing upon the brunt of the boy’s sound to make an escape. The way out clear, Frida and the boy slip through the rip in the simulation to finally break out from this prison disguised as a piece of paradise; the chrome crustacean they fled from exploding the moment it crashes back down onto the beach.

Emerging out from the depths of the ocean with a breaching ascent, the monstrously sized water dragon rockets across the collection of rock spires as the lively psychic holding onto one of its fins holds on for dear life; the head of the mechanical monster bellowing a sonic roar so intense; it casts forth dozens of waves across the waters. The colossal chrome sea serpent glides above the salty waters and lands upon the length of a towering rock formation, rapidly spiraling up the stone shaft as a boa constrictor would slither up a tree; Satette struggling to hold onto the snakes flapping fin as the teeth of her transformed rat clamps begin to slip away. When the last of the rat kings grasp falters upon the machine’s silky fin, the building inertia slings Sat right off the side of the serpent and hurdling across the salty sea air. The dreaded dragon opens its maw as it lunges at her from the tower side, Satette left helplessly careening through the air as the mechanic monsters electrically sparking mouth threatens to chomp down on her.

But just when the colossal chrome dragon was a moment or two away from swallowing the lively psychic whole, an out of the blue explosion strikes at the leviathan with enough of a punch to force its approaching maw way; the serpents teeth skirting past Satette by mere inches as it slithers past. Peering to where the blast had come from, a big smile stretches across Sat’s face when finding her wall merging partner in crime perched along one of the pillars of rock; a puff of smoke wafting from the rocket launcher she had just fired. Discovering her wall merging friend still alive and well, the lively psychic morphs the mess of rats into a coiling rope of fuzzy flesh; the lively psychic casting her stringed together collection over to the nearest rocky pillar, coiling round one of the jagged stones piercing out from the side.

Satette swings across the rocky column to swerve right back around to hurdles towards the pillar her partner had merged in, kicking herself off from column to column as she casts her meat rope around like a whip. Peering back behind her, the lively psychic discovers the dragonic sea monster slithering after her from underneath the depths of the water; its shadow inching closer as it remains on the verge of encroaching above her. It isn’t until Satette is but a couple more swings away from the dimensional psychic that the monolithic sea serpent beneath her pokes its head out from the surface, opening its maw to unleash a mighty torrent of electric after her; the intense stream of lightning blasting apart the rocky spires that stood ahead. With the columns of salty rock ahead of her broken away, Sat is forced to swing right around the column her rat rope is tied around; this complete 180 of a turn lending the serpent below a chance to go for the kill.

Witnessing the colossal chrome dragon launches out from the sea to rise after where Sat swings over towards, Frida springs out from the rocky spire she stood within to descend after her lively partner in crime; the head of the serpent preparing to engulf the young woman in one bite. The gun woman pushes her life bending friend right out from the reach of the beast as she snatches the other end of Satette’s string of furry flesh; the monstrous machine clamping down upon her whole with but a single bite. The mechanical sea beast continues to spiral up the length of the rock column as the rope of rats is caught betwixt its teeth, dragging Satette up towards the top of the stone tower with her. Sat holds onto the end of her whip of sewer vermin as tightly as she could in the chrome dragons rapid rise, peering up to the monsters maw to discover traces of her friends cerulean power running along her weapons length; a hint that Frida had not met with such a grizzly end. Knowing her dimensional partner was still on one piece, Satette clutches the end of her rat rope as tightly as she could in this rocketing ride towards the top of this towering piece of rock; the string of flesh beginning to be stretched to its limit under the constant inertia.

The steel sea beast soon reaches the very tip of the stone spire; the surface merging psychic slipping out from its mouth and sliding over to the tip of its nose, tightly clutching the rodent rope keeping Satette tied to her. At the apex of the dragons ascent, Frida springs off the mechanical monster’s head to send herself and Sat rising into the sky over head; the gunwoman tightly clutching at her end of the string of flesh before swinging it over, whipping the lively psychic ahead of herself before shouting: “Open up!” “Open what?” the lively psychic can’t help but shout in the middle of their rise. Gazing up to the simulated skies above does she spot growing glimmers of magenta power radiating across a section of the clouds; the puffs of white quaking apart into tiny bits of metal as this aura shakes away the panel of falsehood to reveal a way out. From the other side of the breach, the sound controlling kid reaches down to the ascending duo as he keeps the piece of metal holding the prison at bay. “Sunny!?” “Grab on!” he pleads.

With there virtually no time to ponder over the how the boy is able to breach through the simulation, Satette reaches out to the kid as she start to drop; the young woman catching the boy hand just as she was on the verge of plummeting back down. After pulling herself up the rest of the way in the hole, the lively psychic jerks the rest of her rat rope in a frantic hurry to pull Frida out; the head of the steel sea serpent rising after the dimensional psychic akin to a famished shark pursing its fleeting meal. The very moment Frida is dragged back to safety behind the other side of the breach, Sunny retracts his power of sound away from the opening to let the piece of the simulation quickly reconstruct itself; the colossal chrome snake left with nothing but open space to bite down upon at the peek of its rise.

What remained of the collection of simple boats and broken navel vessels floating among the ship cemetery were accosted by bellowing flames; some of them collapsing under their own weight as the furious fire chew through their support. Its midst this burning chaos that Thursotte finds what ground he could even stand on dwindling at the seems, most of the ships he could jump to plagued by the spreading flames. Hell, he was struggling to avoid crumbling debris from the top of the ship he stood. The young man bolts away from the pursuing blaze and makes a bounding leap towards the closest boat still intact, reaching as far as he could for the planks that splinter out from the edge of a split in half ship. Grasping at the end of the piece of wood, Thurs attempts to pull himself up to the deck as the waters beside him ripple; the deadly dolphin droid that had harassed him with such a hellishly hot time springing out from the depths of the sea.

From its chrome blowhole does the steel sea mammal erupt a volley of flaming mortars high into the air, sending all of them descending down upon the ship Thursotte hangs off of with a screeching whistle; the resulting explosions enveloping the deck rattling the boat and sending cracks across that half of its body. The plank of wood that the chaos inducing psychic hangs from snaps from the overwhelming booms, sending Thursotte tumbling down into the exposed inside of the ship with the piece of board still in hand. From beneath the blazing deck, the young man arose to witness one more flare descending from the heavens to plummet down towards him; Thursotte tightly clutching the plank he carries with both hands as he rises back on his feet to step to the top of the split ship.

The young man takes a steady stance as he holds the piece of wood back, infusing the mundane splinter of the deck in his chaotic power as the mortar is moments away from crashing down. Swinging the board as hard as he could, Thurs bats the fiery explosive away from the split ship to instead send it careening off towards another blazing vessel; the fire cloaking the pieces of mortar fluttering through the air before crash down upon the boats towering mast. Having taken the brunt of the flaming bomb from its already fractured base, the ship’s lengthy mast breaks off from the deck and starts to tumble down like a tree having been cut from its stump; Thursotte’s orange aura blending with the crackling fires that plague the pole’s wood.

Yet rather than plummeting down into the sea like he would expect, shock and confusion wash across the young man’s face when witnessing the tip of the tumbling mast crash into what seemed like the middle of the air; that part of the cloudless blue sky crumbling away to reveal nothing but a collection of metallic bits that make up the simulation. The site felt similar as looking upon a complete picture with one of the pieces having been broken away, that metaphor strengthening when the layer of the simulation finally gives away and crumbles to pieces against both Thursotte’s chaotic power and the raging flames. The surprises just keep coming, for from the other side of this layer of falsehood does a torrential geyser of seawater comes bursting out from the pieces of broken space and pours down from the towering tilted mast; the waterfall splashing down upon the ships deck to extinguish the blaze that plagues it. The unexpected turns fail to end there however, as Thursotte can make out the figure of a man spewing out from within the pouring geyser of seawater; the young psychic almost immediately recognizing them as soon as they emerge out from the waterfall. “Tuesco!?” Upon realizing the newcomer to be one of his own, the chaos inducing psychic is swift to leap across the split vessel and climb his way back up to the deck; discarding the piece of splintered wood in his hurry.

After dissolving away the layer of solidified air encompassing his head Tuesco takes in a deep inhale of much needed fresh air; giving himself a moment to breath as he looks around to where he wound up. “Tuesco!” he then hears blurting out beside him. “Ah!” the solid air psychic jumps back exclaiming. Tues’ alarm starts to deflate when finding this exclamation having came from one of his own, calming down as he gets back up to greet the chaos triggering psychic with: “Oh, it’s you.” “What, that’s it? Haven’t even seen you around in this god forsaken death trap in a while and that’s all you got to greet me with?” “Well, sorry. Some of us are a tad exhausted after being accosted by metal fish monsters and a lack of oxygen.” “I’ve been too, but you don’t see me acting cranky.” “Wait, you been dealing with scud missile puffer fish tanks?” “…What?” “What do you mean ‘What’? What’ve you been dealing with?” Their brief reunion is suddenly cut short when out from the ocean waters beside them leaps out the dreaded droid dolphin, blasting out another salvo of fiery mortars from its blowhole; the barrage of flaming balls whistling through the sky until plummeting their way back down towards them. “Oh, a dolphin. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”

The two of them make a bolt for it as the explosive mortars crash down around them, with Tuesco conjuring a dome underneath him and his partner as they make flee from the flames; the psychic’s solid air shield lending the two surmountable protection against the flying flares and fires as they leap to the next vessel. “This whole place’s looking like a mass viking funeral; its only a matter of time before these boats be our coffins! What the hell do we do!?” questions Tuesco. “You’re asking me? I barely even got the chance to catch my breath, let alone put a dent in that dolphin. I’ve been too busy dodging the bombs this things spews out to come up with a game plan. And all the while I keep running out of room to race away from it all. Any more of these ships catch fire and I’ll be forced to take a dip down in the briny blue sea.” Thursotte claims. “I’d advise against that.” “Why?” Pointing out to the ship they had fled from, Thurs’ attention is drawn to the leak of seawater spewing out from the middle of the air; the chaotic psychic noticing a slew of metal balloon like fish pouring out from the other side of the geyser. “Lemme guess, those the scud missile slingers you been dealing with?” “Yep. They catch us in the water, we’re as good as dead.” confirms Tuesco. “Augh. Can’t get relief above water, can’t get it under.” “Where the hell are we supposed to go then?”

A brief glance down upon the waving surface of the ocean has an idea prick out from Thursotte head; the young man grasping to the solid air psychic to stop as he declares that: “If we can’t go in the water, we’ll just float right over it.” “Wait, what are you even-” Clutching at the dome of solid air above them originally made to shield them against the downpour of flames, Thurs flips the transparent shell right over the deck of the ship and sends it splashing down upon the water below; Tuesco panicking as the young man then jerks over towards the edge of the ship. The two leap right off the side of the vessel moments before another flurry of mortars could crash down upon its deck, the air solidifying psychic letting out a panicked scream as he and Thurs drop down towards the sea. But rather than taking such a deadly dip into the briny blue waters, the two instead land within the very same solid air shell that Thursotte had tossed aside; the transparent dome proving surprisingly buoyant floating across the ocean surface. “Oh, this is what you meant. I guess this solves one problem.”

Interrupting this brief moment of relief do they witness the dangerous droid dolphin breach from the surface once more to unleash a bevy of blazing bombs into the air and send dropping down towards the two. And even with most of the molten mortars simply boiling away into the sea that surrounds them, Tuesco constructs a barrier of solid air to shield against some of the bombs that threaten to drop down atop them; the fiery explosive simply bouncing right off the clear barricade and down into the water with the rest. “But it only partially solves another. We jumped out from the kitchen, only to land right in the middle of the boiling pot. I hope you got another bright idea in that head of yours kid.” Tues states, holding back to the barrage of blazing bombs. “Um…” Thurs ponders, peering across the ocean. From beneath their crystal clear waters can the young man witness schools of the chrome puffer fish that Tuesco had warned of, with their bulbous bodies covered in prickly spines. Among their patrol does something suddenly trigger them to fire out their metallic spikes, the needles scurrying across the ocean like ravenous piranha lunging to their prey. Yet instead of racing right at the two of them, the cluster of miniature torpedo’s instead make a complete opposite dart after one of the surrounding burning boats; the barrage of scud missiles exploding against the ships hull and swiftly reducing the entire vessel to watery debris.

Thursotte lets out a pondering hum upon seeing the way the puffer’s missiles were so easily drawn to the burning wreckage nearby, thinking surely there had to be some coloration. Perhaps their aim is more based off heat instead of sound or site. “Well, you got a plan cooking up there or what?” questions Tuesco. “Cooking might be the appropriate word. If only we could smack that damn dolphin outta the water…You think you can catch a couple of those mortars?” “Excuse me?” “If we grab one of those fireballs, we can redirect where all the pufferfish aim and hopefully blast that damn dolphin out of the water.” Though the air solidifying psychic is hesitant on the idea, Tuesco relents as he modifies the structure of is overhead shield into a wide bowl; telling the young man behind him: “I hope you know what you’re doing.” “Eh, half and half.”

When breaching out from the waters once more, the fake sea mammal does its usual routine of blasting a dozen blazing balls out from its blowhole; the mortars flying high before plummeting back down towards the two floating in the middle of the ocean. While the rest of the barrage dissolves into ashes upon dunking into the water, a couple of them end up rolling right into Tuesco’s transparent bowl like a basketball to a hoop; the psychic enclosing the fiery flares within with another bowl on top. Even with the flaming bombs having been entrapped within his air tight prison, Tuesco still feels their heat radiating past the solid air and begin to strike at the palms he holds them with; grunting from the sensation as he warns how: “Thur, starting to feel the heat here.” “Wait for it.” Thursotte insists. The tension keeps climbing as the chaos triggering psychic peers across the open ocean for any sign of the dastardly dolphin droid; the psychic of solid air letting out pained hissing as he struggles to keep holding the scorching hot bowl of fire above.

Its after a couple more moments of anticipation, the waving waters are upset once again when the dangerous steel dolphin breaches out from the surface once again as elegantly as the real deal; Thurs catching his partners attention as he shouts: “Over there. Chuck it over there!” The moment that Tuesco hears this demands, he turns right over and hurdles the bowl of blazing bombs towards the airborne sea mammal machine; the bowl sloppily skipping across the surface of the water like a kid attempting to throw a rock across a lake. Once the clear bowl filled with flaming mortars rests close to where the dolphin leaps, its constant heat attracts the ire of the dozens of chrome blowfish that swim through the sea; the ones nearby of them unloading their salvo of spiny scud missiles towards the dome of fiery bombs. The moment the collection of cluster bombs explode against the clear container of fiery flares, the resulting blast proves strong enough to send the airborne droid dolphin careening across the salty sea air and sent crashing right atop one of the many boats that litter the ship graveyard.

Stranded on top of the vessel, the shiny steel sea mammal flops about the deck in a panic; its blowhole firing out a constant barrage of mortars all across the ship in its struggling. The boat the droid dolphin had been beached upon combusts in an intense inferno in only meager moments; the insuring blaze standing tall among the other burning ships making up the ship cemetery. Attracted by the overwhelming inferno, the rest of the mechanical puffer fish can’t help but unload their collection of cluster bomb towards the blazing boat; the sea vessel and the dolphin trapped atop it engulfed in the all consuming blast.

Watching the display of deadly fireworks reduce one of their threats to pieces, Thursotte can’t help but cheer from the explosive show while taunt out to the wreckage. “How’s about some sushi to go with the fireworks show, huh? I don’t even know if dolphin counts as sushi, but it don’t matter; your fried anyway!” he boasts. “Well, whatever sort of way you cooked that thing, I hope you got quiet the killer recipe for blowfish.” Tues claims. “Yeah, we smoked that piece of…huh?” Parting from this brief victory does the young man quickly realize themselves being surrounded by schools of the same chrome pufferfish that had laid waste to their steel sea mammal menace; their heat seeking recitals now locked to them. “Oh…Well dammit.”

Dreadful worry starts to rise as the school o scud missile shooting blowfish begin to close in upon the duo, leaving the two of them left nowhere to run to against the approaching threat as they can only huddle together. “So, not to sound greedy, but you don’t happen to have another split second schemes cooking up there, do you?” Tues asks. “Gotta be honest, the mine of my mind is tapped out. We’d practically need a miracle now.” “Whelp. You know, in my police career, if I wound up dying, I pictured my life ending in a gesture of glory the likes of which people would remember for years to come, like a blaze of glory situation. Guess I’ll have to settle with a boiling froth.”

Yet on the cusp of facing their thought to be inescapable demise, the open salty air just above the two suddenly wavers and contorts; a thick magenta power causing the metal bits holding the simulation together parting to bestow upon them an escape from their imminent doom. “Well, you did say we needed a miracle.” claims Tuesco. From the other side of the shattered simulation, the two discover the rest of their loyal crew reunited and waiting for them; Sunny holding the breach with the vibrations of his whistling while Frida reaches down for them. “Or rag tag bunch of reliable friends.” insists Thursotte. “Well, I suppose friendliness is next to godliness.” claims Tuesco. “Just shut up and get up here.” Frida sternly demands. “Yes ma’am.” Grasping the palm of their surface merging leader, both the boys are reeled right out from the depths of their simulated prison right as the steel swarm of mechanical puffer fish unleash their missiles upon them; the two managing to escape from their explosive demise in the nick of time.

“No.” This daring escape out from the depths of the simulated test prisons could be viewed from the screen of one of several monitors, each one displaying a part of the enigmatic doctors labyrinth of technical terror. “No!” Shown on another of these feed is the psychic gang racing across the chromatic halls, all of them barreling through the place now more determined than ever. “NO!” It was plain to see that no barrier, no wall, nothing could stop their approach; Frida guiding them through the smallest of cracks, Sunny silencing the others to keep them from being spotted, Satette and Thursotte fighting back the swarms of mechanical manta that dare stand in their way, and Tuesco erecting shields to protect the others from their beige blasts. “This can’t be happening. I crafted those prisons to be neigh impenetrable those within unable to so much as touch their bars, let alone escape. How could they have…That child. I don’t fully know what he did, but he somehow disrupted the cell’s membrane pattern’s from the outside to free the others. Dammit! If they make there way to this chamber now, everything I worked for will be at risk. I won’t have it come to that; I can simply remote backup my data to another server before they-”

The gifted doctors worrying thoughts are solidified when the door leading out from the darkened chambers is busted open; the light from the chromatic halls pouring in alongside the intruders that barge into the private sanctum. “And things keep going from bad to worse; as if the slew of maintenance needing to be done wasn’t enough of a migraine today. Seriously, do you people even realize how much time and money your shenanigans may cost me?” December groans. “You wanna stop racking up that debt, you know what you gotta cough up.” claims Frida. “Give up the stone, or we’ll tear your whole workshop apart til we find it.” Satette adds. “Oh, I deduce that you lot will find that ordeal much harder to do than speak. The only way you’re retrieving the psychic stone now is over my cold dead remains.” the doctor refuses.

“Where even are you right now?” questions Thurs. “Matter of fact, where are we?” Tuesco adds. “Oh, I am most surprised how you haven’t caught on to the grander picture of where you stand. Surely, you’ve no doubt notices some strange details midst rummaging through the depths of my laboratory. My psychic aura implanted within many of the machines that roam these halls, their efforts and duties seemingly innocuous at first glance. This facility may be where many of my ingenious creations are forged, but it also serves a far greater purpose. But to answer you’re question more accurately, I compel you all to simply draw your gaze above.”

Like the technically inclined doctor instructs, all of them look to the ceiling over head for their answer; their glares widening in disbelief upon the site they discover. Enclosed within a thick case of reinforced glass filled with a purified fluid floats a lone brain, a potent beige aura constantly expelling out from its very depths. From the inside of the piece of gray matter does the technological controlling power surge out into several wires hooked to its wrinkled surface; the psychic aura slithering across and into the dense walls of machinery and technology that line the chamber. Simple sparks of Decembers power are all that need to course through these devices and machines to them all under his command. “I have discarded the natural failings of the flesh, instead to don in ironclad steel; freeing myself from the faults of a body I have for so long suffered within. Gone are those cruel limitations, and in their place be grafted ceaseless potential of technological progress. I am-”

“That bitch’s a brain in a jar!” Satette exclaims. “An amusing deduction there, young miss; but a description oh so lacking. With my gifted mind connected to the very wires of my creations and power over the realm of technology, this once humble underground facility has been transformed into a final frontier of engineering. Its wires my nervous system, its energy my life blood, its processors my heart. Are you realizing how I detected your presence so easily!? My laboratory isn’t simply an intellectual paradise, I have, in the most literal of essence, become my laboratory!” Sparking surges of beige powers run all across the chamber as its technology coated walls begin to fracture, transforming into several massive body part like tools and devices that hover across the widening room; the once enclosed space rapidly opening up into a much wider facility. The exit behind them slinking back as all that encompass them among them now was a chasm of darkness surrounding the platform they all stand atop of. “Huh…Neat.” briefly comments Thursotte.

Among the runs of electrical surges glimmering from within the doctors brain case, a peculiar glint catches the eye of the lively psychic; Satette gazing closely beyond the glass to discover the glistening shimmer coming from the very prize they seek. Within the cortex preserving fluid December’s mind swims in be the coveted stone of psychic wonder encased within its glass bauble. “Guys, the stone! He has it! Its splashing around with him in his damn jar!” she alerts. “So I guess the dear doctor was being more literal than we thought.” claims Thursotte. “Of all the places to put it, too. That is foul.” Tuesco reviles. “Metaphorical or literal, we’re breaking open that brain and pilfering our prize right out. And if a little bit of his gray matter ends up spilling, that’s on him. Care to do the honors, kid?” Frida goes. “With pleasure.” the sound controlling kid confirms, coating his small rapid fire pistol in his own brand off magenta power as he aims up towards the glass case. “Did you give him an uzi!?” blurts Tuesco.

“A fruitless effort!” the doctor denies. Before the kid could even so much as pull the trigger of his gun, one of the many metal machines swings out and knocks him right off the platform; the weapon cast aside as Sunny is thrust down into the shadowy depths below. “Shit, Sunny!” the dimensional psychic exclaims, delving off the platform after the boy. Down two of their squad, Thurs, Sat, and Tues are left to face the wrath of the mechanical mad doctor by themselves; preparing for the worst as the genius’ many machinery thrust upon them, glowing with a violent beige spark as they lunge.

Sunny screams in a panic as he plummets down through the chambers chasm, his outcry reverberating all across the depths as he falls. The boy’s desperate yelling ceases when gazing up to witness the wall merging psychic descending after him; Frida stretching her arms out as far she could to reach for the boy. The sound controlling child reaches up for her in a plead for safety, managing to clutch the gun woman’s grasp. Frida pulls the young boy to her person as the bottom of the chasm comes into view, Sunny closing his eyes as the dimensional psychic envelopes her and the kid in her cerulean power. Its thanks to her abilities that they both merges into the surface of the chrome ground safely rather than violently crash down against it; Frida and Sunny swiftly surfacing out from the face of the floor as she calms the kid with: “Easy kid. We’re fine.” “Augh…Agh…Oh wow. Thanks.”

Their brief moment of reprise is cut short as an electrical explosion draws their attention back towards the top of the chamber; both of them witnessing beams and sparks go flying across the room. “Lets get back up there!” Sunny immediately suggests. “I’ll be heading back up. You’re staying down here where its safe.” “Oh, come on. Now you’re going on with all that safety crap?” “I know how it sounds, but shits getting way too close to the fan here. We can’t fight this pickled prick and make sure you don’t get vaporized at the same time. You’ll have to sit this out.” “But-” “No fucking buts. I am ordering you to stay down here and wait while we deal with the doctor. We clear!” the dimensional psychic firmly asserts. “Mmm…Crystal.” he reluctantly relents, crossing his arms as he glares away. “Good. We’ll try to not make this take too long.” claims Frida, leaping into the center pillar and climbing her way up towards the top. “It’s not like it’d be hard for me to break the glass he’s in.”

Fired out from the tip of a chrome swordfish’s nose, a bright beige beam streaks across the chamber and towards the lively psychic; Satette narrowly evading the shocking ray by the skin of her teeth as she lunges towards the weapon in kind. The young woman transforms the rat king she wields into a big hulking arm to strangle the neck of the lengthy fish with, crushing the chrome weapon with such surprising force to render it useless. Yet in the middle of her struggle against one of the doctor’s dastardly device, another of his machines, a big mechanical seahorse with whirling saw blades attached to the end of its tail, swings out at Satette as she is distracted dismantling the laser lance. Not a tooth of the blade would touch her though as Tuesco barrels in erecting a thick barrier of solid air to block the spinning saws; sparks lighting through the shadows surrounding them as he pushes back against the blades.

With the spare pistol that Frida had bestowed to him, Thursotte blasts out bullet after bullet against the doctors detached brains above in attempting to shatter the glass encasing December; every single shot deflecting right off the dome without so much as leaving behind a single scratch. Realizing how fortified the bullet proof glass keeping the doctor safe was, Thurs opts to coat his pistol in his own brand of chaos inducing aura as he carefully aims the last shot of his magazine; the young man failing to notice the shocking surge of an electric steel eel lunging his way, with beige energy coursing through its body. The electric eels shocking lunge against the accident triggering psychic is thwarted when Frida leaps up from the edge of the platform with a rapid fire rifle in hand, the gun woman unloading its magazine against the steel eel to repel it away from her partner in crime. Landing right next to Thursotte, the first thing the dimensional psychic hears from him is: “Is Sunny alright?” “Yeah, the kid’s just fine. Just a bit pissed he ain’t up here with us. He’ll get over it.”

A violent explosion of suddenly erupts from behind the crew; all of them peering back to discover a lobster suspended in the air via propellers, opening its claws to fire out volatile beige balls upon them all. The four of them scatter to evade the explosive onslaught, the entire chamber quaking from every impact. Though Tuesco held his own well against the saw blade seahorse, the constant quaking makes the air solidifying psychic loose his footing and ends up tripping over; the steel sea equine bouncing right off his transparent shield. The mechanical sea creatures repulsion fails to deter it from thrusting itself at the solid air psychic once more, leaving Tuesco barely anytime to get himself off the floor before the seahorse bares its saw blade tail upon him. Closer and closer do the whirling blades of the ocean equine’s saw loom as it starts to breach through Tuesco’s slab of solid oxygen. But just when its chrome steel teeth was ready to break through and tear into him, strands of flesh envelope across the head of the aquatic life form based android and flings it right off of him; Tues peering across the length of meat to see it stretching from the lively psychic herself. Satette chucks the steel seahorse across the chamber and sends it right against the wall, getting its tail stuck against the solid steel from collision; the sparks from its saw lighting up through the shadows as it runs across its curved chrome surface.

Even after unloading the rest of her rifle’s magazine upon the chrome carapace of the mechanical lobster, the best that Frida’s barrage could manage against it was simply put a few dents in its shell. It doesn’t even slow the thing down as it proceeds to spew out several more spheres of surging power down as the dimensional psychic scrambles from the zapping explosions. “Christ, the metal on these things. None of my guns can even put a hole through it.” she curses. “At least its putting dents in. The kind of glass the doctors brain is encased in has to be harder than platinum. Its not even leaving a scratch. Didn’t you say you had a rocket launcher or something?” claims Thurs. “Sad to say I spent it already saving Sat’s ass. Afraid leads all I got left, and even that’s running a little low.” “Don’t you got a spare or something?” “You think I had a spare, I’d have used it already?” “Well how else are we gonna make some leeway here?” Thursotte then questions. Upon this notion is Frida’s attention briefly caught by the seahorse left blazing across the curved walls of the chamber; the method of which its spinning saw blade tail slash across the tough solid steel getting the gears in her head turning.

After a minute of whirling across the chamber in an out of control fashion, the steel seahorse finally manages to dislodge the blades of its saw tail out from the curved chamber wall; the fake equine almost immediately lunging for the nearest intruder, aiming the teeth of its saw towards the distracted chaos inducing psychic. Right as its blades were on the cusp of tearing into Thursotte’s flesh, its tail is again caught against the solid air of Tuesco’s transparent barrier; Thurs springing back from nearly having his head chopped off. “Doesn’t the teeth its saw’s got packing dull? Feels like it just won’t quit.” complains Tuesco. “Then lets give it something else to chew on. Sat, what do you say we introduce those chompers to its crustacean comrade?” “Right, I get ya?” the lively psychic cheers, stretching the length of her fleshy rat arm after the chromatic ocean equine. Clutching upon the body of the steel seahorse once more, Satette pulls the buzzblade spinning machine right off the solid air psychic’s transparent shield; the aquatic life form based android struggling to free itself in her tight grasp. Satette’s sites are locked upon the lighting lobbing lobster as it continues to fire out a barrage of beige balls of electrical power; the crustacean’s claws suddenly drifting over towards her. The bevy of blasting balls hurdling her way, Sat is forced on the defensive as she attempts to outrun the explosions of electricity. And on top of this mad dash away from vaporization, the steel seahorse she holds in her lengthy rat meat grasp begins to tear through the flesh of its own prison; Satette’s strength of her grasp fading along with it. “Dammit! Need a hand here!” she frantically requests.

The lightning lobsters focus so fixated on the fleeting lively psychic, it is utterly caught off guard when a blast of pellets strikes against its claws; the flurry of pellets being fired out from the barrels of Frida’s double barrel shotgun. The dimensional psychic repeatedly unleashes shell after shotgun shell to ward off the chrome crustacean claws; mentioning how: “I’ve had my fill of steel seafood to last a lifetime, thank you.” The several shotgun shells swerving the lobsters steel claws away from the lively psychic, Satette quits her running as soon as the salvo of shocking sphere cease, swift to lob the steel seahorse she held in her grasp at the lobster that threatened to electrocute her. The iron equine flails wildly as it careens through the air; the saw attached to its tail refusing to stop spinning. Just when the lightning lobbing lobster returns its aim, the seahorse’s buzzsaw bite down against it shimmering steel shell and starts to run across its entire body; the chrome crustacean helplessly struggling as the saw blades tear through its shinning hide. The crew watches with triumph as the lethal lightning launcher is torn asunder before their eyes. “So how bout it, doc? We can keep breaking your toys all day, or you can cough up the stone out of your damn jar before we break it too.” taunts Frida. “A simple matter of rebuilding and replacing. But I doubt the same can be said for any of you.” December denies.

In the midst of shredding each other apart, both the chrome lobster and the steel seahorse are suddenly blown apart in a volatile explosion of sparks; pieces of the pair of androids sent scattering all over the chamber. From this plume of spreading debris, the buzzsaw broken off from the seahorses tail is sent hurdling across the platform; zipping past Frida, Thurs, and Tuesco in the blink of an eye. All three turn back to witness in dreadful horror the blade slicing right through the side of their lively partner, severing her arm right from her torso in but a single instant. Satette in utter shock, glares in disbelief as her own scarlet fluid spurts out from the freshly cut stump her limb was attached to just seconds ago. The speed of which the blade had disarmed the young woman has her stumble towards the edge of the platform, Satette left clutching tightly to her bleeding stump as she and her severed limb topple off the edge and plummet down into the shadowy ravine. “Satette!” her friends cry out in terror. The first among them to attempt and come to her rescue, Frida is stopped as the electric steel eel swoops in to beam down a stream of beige power at her; the gun woman unloading what shells she had to blast away the artificial sea creature. “You bastard!”

Waiting among the bottom of the steel chasm, Sunny lets out a huffy sigh as his eyes are drawn to the darkness above; the child catching only brief glimpse of the action as surges of bright beige power cut through the shadows. The sound controlling kid suddenly jumps when hearing a loud thud echo out from the other side of the chrome column; Sunny quick to venture around the pillar to investigate what could’ve fallen down inside these depths. His curiosity slowly morphs into dread upon finding a line of crimson staining parts of the floor, a dread of which balloons at an extraordinary rate as he comes upon more and more splashes of deep red all over. His growing anxieties then erupt into full blown terror as the young boy comes around to discover the smatterings of blood to be spilling from the lively psychic’s own body; poor Sunny letting out a spine tingling scream upon what he thought to be the remains of one of her guardians.

The sound controlling kid ceases his panicking outcry upon realizing Satette was in fact still with him; seething hisses and grunts seeping out from under her clenched teeth as she tightly clutches her severed arm socket, with drizzles of her blood spilling out from between her fingers. “Sat, you’re alive!” he exclaims. “Nngh…Sunny…That you?” the lively psychic grunts. “What…what happened to you!? Where’s your arm!?” Rolling her head over towards the side, Satette opens one of her eyes to find a trail of scarlet starting from where her arm had been, following the splatters of crimson to discover her arm laying a couple yards away from her. “Right there…It’s right there.” she utters.

“Hu-Hold on, I’ll try and call the others.” says Sunny, his magenta aura flowing across his body. “There’s no time…Barely keeping my own blood from spilling.” seethes Satette. “But…I can’t…What am I supposed to do!?” “Ha…Ha-Hate to ask this of you, Sunny. But…think you can go over and fetch my arm over there for me?” the bleeding woman then requests. Almost immediately upon this plead, the young boy hops right over the wounded woman to follow the small trail of red; Sunny stopping his desperate dash upon coming to the lively psychic’s severed limb. Simply glaring upon the amputated arm, covered in the flesh and fur of rodents stained in red, sent a bone chilling dread in the pit of the child’s stomach. A gruesome site of which most other adults would pray to not so much as see with their own eyes; one that nearly paralyzes the young adolescent simply processing what he was looking to.

His palms nearing the amputated arms blood stained hide, Sunny’s reach suddenly pauses as he feels the warmth radiating from the freshly sliced limb; his hands trembling at the thought of clutching to the severed body part. The kid breaks away from his traumatized trance when the pained grunts of his lively guardian reaches his ears, her distraught cries beckoning the boy to snap out from his terror and reach form the limb. Swift to swipe the severed limb off the floor, Sunny hurries back to Satette’s side to return her amputated arm; the lively psychic smiling up to him as she takes her own missing piece. “Thanks…kid…”

The moment she grasps to her own disembodied limb, Sat sends her own natural green power coursing through its length; the rat king that were enveloped across the arm unfurling off and commanded to slither down along the rest of her body; patches of flesh fur, and bone sliding across her chest to rest atop her flesh wound. Utilizing the tiny, splintering bones from the collection of vermin, the lively psychic pierces into her own flesh to sow her wound up with the stringy rat fur; the young woman biting down hard on the bottom of her lip as she endures the stinging pain from her little procedure. “What are you doing?” Sunny can’t help but worry.

Sowing the pieces of rodent meat together across the hole left on her side, Satette manages to patch up and cover the grizzly wound in what living tissue she had left to work with; slowly pulling herself off the floor as she comments how: “Well, not the kind of patch job I saw myself doing, but at least it stops the bleeding.” “But what about the rest of your arm, can’t you reattach it?” asks the sound controlling kid, gazing upon limp limb that Sat holds. “Don’t think so. I can only do so much to myself. Besides, we’ve been running around this chrome crap hole all day, and my tank is about spent. Gotta use what I got left to finish this.” “So…What do we do?” the boy wonders. “Hmm…” contemplates the lively psychic, glaring down to her own severed limb. “Yo, Sunny. Did I ever teach you about how to carry your power into stuff?” “I…I don’t think so.” “Well then, how bout we got through a little bit of a crash course, shall we?” To this end, Satette envelopes her detached arm with what remains of her natural green aura; the sound controlling kid staring curiously as the limb begins to straighten and extend under Sat’s power.

Repeatedly pulling the trigger of his pistol, Thursotte unloads several shots up after December’s glass brain casing, infusing every bullet he shoots with a thick layer of his accident prone power. Though not even one piece of led would so much as touch the doctors protective shell, as hand of hard chrome, enveloped in their foe’s beige power, suddenly flies in between them and the glass case; the barrage ricocheting right off its palms hard exterior and across the chamber walls. Several pieces sharp metal break off from the curved wall as the bullet bounce off, sending a shower of them raining down upon the trio.

“Son of a bitch!” the dimensional psychic curses, aiming a double barrel shotgun towards the edge of the chamber. Infusing the shotgun in her wall merging power, Frida blows out a scattering of pellets right against the curved wall beside them; every pellet entering the surface of chrome to slide up towards the encased brain overhead. Yet before the bunch of bullets could slide up the wall and at the doctor, the shot is caught out when a part of the wall they streak across unexpectedly detaches from the side, carrying the racing bullets upon its surface. The length of shiny steel is aimed right upon the trio as the shocking machine eel fires a dastardly bolt upon its face; the terrible shock forcing the pellets out from the 2nd dimension and releases the shotgun spread down, with the three scrambling away from the raining blast.

Attempting to take a crack at cracking the doctors cranium case, Tuesco hops up as he constructs a small platform out of solid air; leaping right off the freshly made piece of crystallized air before conjuring another at his feet. Astonished are both Frida and Thurs as they witness their air solidifying partner quite literally hopping through the air. The two snap out from their amazement once beholding some of the doctors aquatic based androids attempting to stop their friends ascent; both of them brandishing their guns and firing out against the encroaching machines. Though their shots inflict no structural damage on the androids, the barrage of bullets proves enough to send the mechanical monsters reeling back from their friend, lending Tuesco a chance to rise up against Doctor December.

Once climbing close enough after the doctors brain jar, the air solidifying psychic constructs a sledgehammer in the palm of his hands to swing against the glass casing, putting every ounce of remaining strength he could muster into his strike. As harshly as Tuesco had hammered his weapon into the surface of the glass however, the impact shows him being only enough to cause the contents within to briefly tremble in the preserving fluid; not even a single smudge appearing from where he had swung. Tuesco is left only to plummet back down towards the platforms upon seeing his efforts bare no fruit, falling after his partners that had aided him so.

Frida hurries after where Tues falls and holds her arm out to catch him; she envelopes both herself and the solid air psychic in her dimensional breaking power to slip into the surface of the floor, successfully cushioning themselves from the fall. Breaching out from the surface of the platform, the air solidifying psychic glares up to the lack of results all his efforts have yielded and laments how: “I put everything I had in that swing, and I couldn’t even make a scratch.”

“Surely, the rest of you must understand by now.” they hear the doctor boast, his army of sea creature androids slowly descending upon them. “Your struggles to pry the stone from me were all for naught the moment you stepped into the realm of my laboratory. Standing at the heart of this domain, all of you cower underneath the light of my unrecognized genius. You have no hope of outwitting a being of utter intellect. But fear not. Unless the rest of you, I harbor no barbarism for your crimes. You’ve proven most admirable fighting your way to this point, so I plan to bestow upon you all fitting roles among the halls of my technological paradise; testing the threshold of my numerous upcoming devices. I expect each of you to last, down to the very bone.”

The trio’s dreadful hopelessness is suddenly dashed when a streak of white speeds right past them, past the numerous machines, and towards the doctors cranium casing like a bolt of white lighting. Piercing right through the thought to be impenetrable layer of glass, a thin lance of bone breaches the safety of the doctor’s protection; the tip of the unexpected spear making it just a few inches away from his very brain. “What!?” December exclaims. Peering back from where the spike of white had been launched, the three’s hopes uplift upon discovering Satette standing upon the edge of the platform, alive and well. “Sat, you’re alive!” cheers Thurs. “Oh thank fucking god.” Frida relieves. “But…Your arm. What happened to-” Tues wonders. “I threw it.” she answers. “Wait, you mean…No way.” the chaos inducing psychic awes, peering back to the thin white lance that she had just hurdled into their foe’s barrier. “A simple over site. I shall not let it extend further past this. Your efforts have still all been for-”

Cutting off his own self aggrandizing rantings, the doctor’s confidence wavers as he beholds a thick magenta hue swiftly engulfs the length of the spear; the white spike suddenly beginning to rapidly vibrate as it evokes a rapidly climbing pitch of tone. “Is that…” Thurs utters, all of them peering back around to the lively psychic. Along Satette’s back hangs the sound controlling kid; Sunny getting right off the lively psychic to further concentrate his powers. “I thought I told you to stay put. It’s way too dangerous. What are you think your doing?” scolds Frida. “Oh sure, now you listen to me.” comments Tuesco. “I’m helping!” the child claims, straining himself to concentrate. “How can you even-”

They cease their brief argument the moment the sound of crackling glass echoes throughout the chamber, all of them returning their attention over head to discover the bulletproof brain case they struggled to even scratch beginning to crack; the fractures growing worse from the trembling lance of pale white. “No. No no no no no NO!” December screeches. The brain is swift to command his nearest pawns to rush towards his side, racing against the destruction of his own cranium casing. Yet even their advance hovering capabilities are not fast enough to stop Decembers dome from breaking against the overwhelming sound vibrating from the intruding spear.

From the shattering of the doctors dome, a shower of glass and preserving fluids rain upon the motley crew; the air solidifying psychic constructing a barrier overhead for the others to stand underneath to avoid the sharp glass. Among the downpour of liquid and shards, the psychic mcguffin they’ve sought within this cryptic chrome labyrinth lands beside them, clanking about as it rolls at their feet; Frida swiping the babble right off the soaking floor with a gleeful grin. “There it is, right back where it belongs.” she cheers, stashing the stone right in her jacket pocket.

A brief chill runs across their spines upon hearing the doctor’s voice echo all through out the chamber, with the sound quality fluctuating as he lightly chuckles. “Hee hee hee hee hee…Fools.” Once more returning their attention upwards, they discover the wires implanted across Decembers brain suspending him in the air and keeping his mind from tumbling down with the remains of his glass dome. “So long as you all remain in my dominion, your success shall be short lived. Even if you have briefly pilfered the stone from me, I shall simply take it back.” December decrees, his armada of aquatic androids lunging down after the crew.

But not a single mechanical menace would reach them as they all suddenly cease in the middle of the air; the beige power coursing through their bodies disintegrating before falling down into the chasm. “Wh-wh-what?” the hanging brain blubbers. Its after all the noise and chaos starts to wind down into quiet ambiance that a small alarm could finally be heard, one that escalates the doctors curious worry into outright panic. “System malfunction…At the matter energy processing? What have you cretins done!?” “I think you’ll find we put a little bit of a jam in your whole operations.” Tuesco quips. Back within the lengthy hallway filled with trash and robotic spiders, not one of the arachnids can push down or break apart the chunks of trash clogging up the beige shafts; the glow shimmering within the spiders slowly beginning to dwindle away.

From bad to worse, another alarm could be heard blaring in tandem with the first; almost giving a sense of rhythm to the escalating situation. “Oh, what now?” he laments. “Well, doc. Seems your plans are all going up in flames.” jests Frida. “Core processor temperature rising! You didn’t!” The countless pipes that envelope the glowing cube of countless central processors Frida had encountered have all been puncture and torn apart, the cold water within leaking down onto the floor as the piece of crucial components start to literally melt. “Have you any idea what you done!? Without the cooling pipes controlling the processors excessive heat, it will reach critical levels. Once the processor is destroyed, it will only take minutes for it to cause an explosive chain reaction that will lay my laboratory in ruin!” “Frida, you set the place to blow!?” exclaims Thurs. “Well, yeah. Didn’t want this big bastard coming after us. Seems like a no brainer to send whole thing to kingdom come.” the dimensional psychic elaborates. “With all of us in it!?” shouts Tuesco. “Okay, to be fair. I thought we would’ve had more time to bail.”

“My time may expire, but yours soon will too.” the doctor statement echoes. “If you are so determined to rend my precious sanctuary into smoldering slag, then you shall behold the fruits of your labor, firsthand. So long as power surges through my cortex, none of you shall slip from my laboratory!” From the darkest depths of the surrounding chasm do the doctors machines rise again; their prongs, tips, edges, and laser points aimed squarely against the crew. “I’d say we’ve had enough of this technology tour, you guys think so?” the dimensional psychic claims. “Yeah.” “Sure have.” “My wonder has sated, thank you.” “Glad to hear. Lets crash through this chrome crap hole til we break outta here.” Tuesco goes. “I know a way out.” claims Sunny. “Lead the way, kid.” Frida insists, the whole band of psychic taking each others hands before making a bounding leap together into the surface of the chamber wall. From the curved chrome side, the dimensional psychic guides the gang across the wall and slides right through the sliding door leading out; leaving dear doctor December to literally hang dry.

All my life, my intellect has been subsided by events outside my control; doomed to be squandered by the apathetic masses. Yet even in my lowest recesses, I had sought for a better tomorrow. Slipping right out from the cracks of the chrome sliding doors, the crew make a frantic break away through the corridors as the emergency alarm, now more clear than ever, blares through the hallway. In my dreams, I saw a world unbound by the limits of the flesh; avenues to new sensations and experiences open to the mind. The gateway to that brighter future, unlocked by the greatest of minds. Coming out from the hall walls, what mechanical manta Ray remain attempt to stand in their way; their efforts steamrolled as Sunny simply silences everyone to simply race right on my without a second thought. Was it but a fools dream, one never to come to prosper? Or simply a perceived terror, scorned by the very people I wished to stand with. We may never know? The entire facility begins to tremble around them, panels of chrome and glass falling apart as they hope over the bumps of circuitry now exposed; the sound controlling kid leading them over to a ventilation shaft for Frida to slip them all through. The course of history can only be steered by a willing, unwavering hand; one cemented in their determined convictions. I may not be one of those metaphorical hands anymore, but there are several others eager to grasp the wheel. Who that hand may belong to, only time shall conclude. After slipping out from out a pipe attached to the ceiling of the New York sewers, the gang hurry through the tunnels towards the closest manhole they could find; climbing up the ladder leading to the surface for dear life.

The big apples ocean side waves crash against the dock’s concrete edges, echoing past the city sea line and across the streets beyond; a welcomed natural ambiance in the thick of this urban jungle. Sparingly spread around the stretch of the cities docking streets sit but a few manholes for maintenance staff to climb down from; the sewage system being so close to the ocean leading to plenty of runoffs lining the edge, giving few plumbers enough of a chance to work. Emerging out from underneath one of these sparse manholes, Frida pulls herself and the crew right out from the depths of the underground sewers; one of them basking in the fresh air and sunlight as they give themselves a moment to breath. “Man, the smoggy New York air never smelled so fresh for me.” Tuesco compliments after taking in a giant whiff. “Feels nice seeing the sun again, even if my eyes are burning from the adjusting from the darkness.” says Thursotte, streaks of tears running down his cheeks. “After being down there for so long, feels good blowing that place off.” adds Frida. “Hey, speaking of blowing. Don’t you think the lab should've explode by-” Sunny attempts to question.

The rhythmic back and forth of the ocean waves are suddenly disrupted when an eruption blows out from underneath the brine; an explosion so intense, that its power quakes past the waves and causes the city ocean line to briefly tremble. Once the waves start to calm, chunks and shards of chrome, glass, and plastic begin to surface from the sea to drift across the shoreline; undoubtedly what remains of the doctors hidden laboratory lay waste. “Gee, I hope the environmental organization isn’t too mad about all the work we just made for them.” worries Thursotte. “That might be a fuck up on them, but the same can’t be said for us. Broke in, got the stone, and destroyed the mobs technological network all in a day. I’d call that a rousing all around success.” claims Frida as she admires the psychic stone they had plundered, the cracked glass case glistening in the sun. “Not exactly.” reminds Tues, bringing their attention over to edge of the shoreline.

Their celebration dims upon seeing the lively psychic staring out into the ocean’s horizon, clutching the patched up part of her upper torso her arm used to be; the crashing ocean waves letting her simmer in the frothing ennui. The very site of one of her own friends having been so radically affected from their heist, upon her leadership no less, fills Frida with a rising guilt; the dimensional psychic prompt to approach the disarmed young woman to say: “Sat, I’m so-” “Frida. It’s okay…I’ve lost worse.” Such a statement takes the gun woman aback, surprised over the lack of emotional output from such a radically physical change. And even more jarring is that Satette simply walks past the dimensional psychic to head out to the rest of the city, suggesting that: “Lets just go home. I wanna clean this up and properly patch it up before it gets infected.” Though a foreboding worry over the welfare of their injured friend starts to wash over them, Tuesco, Frida, Thursotte, and Sunny follow Satette into the city streets ahead; their mission to retrieve the coveted stone of psychic power having been a success.

The season finale for season 2 of Street Smarts. Thank you so much for reading thus far.

[mrspacy]

Welp, Twitter has forsaken the world so I have no choice but to jump ship back to my old tumblr, so I guess I’m gonna be drip feeding all the art I’ve been doing for the past 3ish years on to here. Enjoy my new profile pic I drew a while ago

[greycaelum]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Painter Reader

[Gentle Affection Collections]

Request: 26 & 28 [ List is Here ]

squishing their cheeks, wiping away/her tears

Notes & Warning: fluff; Word Count: 2.2k

For the amazing artist who kept feeding me all the KnY arts of the Gojo Munchkins, thank you so much for simply blessing me with serotonin with your beautiful arts. I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for joining! —Grey,

Ocean Eyes

Satoru is not a stranger to playing with your adorable cheeks. That's all he thinks whenever he plans his shenanigans just to see you pout. He's not foreign to your tears too, tears of joy, the painful ones from your frustrations, or those pretty cries you make while writhing underneath him in heights of passion. Little do you know that he badly wishes to be the one who will wipe those tears away and hug you when things gets tough.

Right now he stares as you unveil your art exhibit. He told you he's coming back tomorrow from an overseas mission, but really he just wants you to focus on today's event. And also it's a part of his plan...

"Take off your shirt Satoru." You frowned.

"Woah! I didn't know my sweetie pie would have this kink." He gestured to the wide-open beach and himself. "Really? Are you gonna share ME with all these people? Yadda! Yadda!" Satoru squealed and giggled.

"... Are you gonna help me or what?" An irk mark formed on your temples.

"I just have to get in the water, right? Piece of cake, even if you need me to swim the Pacific Ocean; I, your boyfriend will dare the w—amph"

You stuff his mouth with your half-eaten sandwich and push him to the edge of the sand and sea. Satoru sighed and took off his shirt revealing his glorious well-toned body.

He always wear shirts that covers his body in public, however in the confines of your home? A topless Satoru complaining about heat always grace your eyes with his rippling muscles. He glances at you and winks. "Like what you're seeing?" He runs back to you and cups your face. "Kiss me first, then I'll model for you." Satoru grins, lips hovering over yours, his nose rubs the bridge of yours eliciting butterflies in your stomach and heat pooling in your belly that you can only pout and desperately hide your flaming cheeks.

This man! Does he know the severity of his impact on your sanity? Surely no. Because if yes, he will only add more until you melt like putty in his hands. You shrug off the eyes of bystanders despite your internal self dying from embarrassment with Satoru and his public display of affection.

Standing on your tiptoes your lips touch over Satoru's cold and soft ones, a fleeting touch of your lips and you nudge his cheeks with your nose.

"Hurry up, we're gonna lose the golden hour 'Toru!" You readied the camera. But Satoru's lips stretch so wide, leaning in for another quick one before entering the sea.

"Tough love. Hey! My talent fee is not just this sandwich right?!" He waded into the water until it reach his waist. Behind him, the sun is kissing the horizon. "I'm the best model you could get out there and you give me, just this sandwich? Sucks to be a model, bleh!" He complained but got into position. Half of his body submerged in the sea and the other half of his perfectly sculpted natural muscles, every bulge from his pectorals down to the lines of his abs outlining the ridges of Satoru's Adonis belt, well defined and dripping with the seawater...

"Do you know that sudden feeling of seeing the ocean and having the urge to swim to the ends of the world? Forgetting all your worries and disappearing forever?" His blue eyes stared intensely at you. Beautiful ocean eyes take you in with those enigmatic hues of blue and the fading light of the sun reflected on the opaque waters. "I don't have that urge." He held his hands up in surrender and splash the water on your face and ran away, laughing his hearts out.

What the fuck?!

"Satoru come back here? Jerk!"

He watches you pull off the cloth on the main piece. The spectators stood in awe before that canvas. A beautiful man with such profound and mysterious blue eyes, behind is the sun sinking into the sea.

"Ocean Eyes..." You murmured the name of the piece with a proud smile on your face as your spectators are in a trance of the beauty and realism of the art.

Blue has always been a pensive color for you. It represents the melancholy of sadness and at the same time freedom. Whenever your lover takes off his blindfold and lets you gaze into the depth of his beautiful ocean eyes, you find yourself stuck staring and completely mystified how Satoru's eyes could hold so much of the world beyond your reach.

"Is there a reason why your artworks emphasize the ocean and sky?" One of the curators asked.

You just smiled and casually answered, "There's just something about the sky and ocean that screams the idea of limitless, and the man in this painting made me feel that way every time I stare into his ocean eyes."

The exhibit was a success. All of your pieces were bought... You read over the list of the orders, making sure you got everything right.

The months it took you to finish all these big and small canvases, mixing the paint and taking the paintbrushes. You're delighted to know about the profit, I mean who wouldn't be? That's the payoff of your hard work. But somehow you can't help but feel empty...

Perhaps you're simply sentimental and value your works so much that it's sad to think tonight will also be the last night you can feel and gaze at them freely...

Particularly on your most favorite. Ocean Eyes... Satoru. You are not adamant about selling the painting. Until now, you're still torn if you'll accept the offer.

You fumbled in your pocket and read the message of the one who wants to buy the art.

Name your price...

"Baby!" A voice full of joviality echoed in the showroom. Satoru walks in with a wide smile on his face, holding a bouquet of... Snacks. Lollipops and cotton candy in a wrapper sticking out forming a bouquet.

The heaviness in your heart grew deeper. To be selfish even in just this one won't be that bad right? You wanna keep that artwork. Badly. You poured your heart and soul on that thing, and there's Satoru in it.

Call it possessiveness or whatever but the more you think about it, you can't bear thinking of any stranger eyeing Satoru.

"'Toru..." You opened your tired arms and Satoru knew the drill. Setting aside the bouquet, he opened his arms and envelope you in his familiar and comfortable embrace. His strong arms hoisted your tired body and lift you to sit on the nearby table. Instinctively, your arms snaked around his waist and buried your face into the crook of your boyfriend's neck, taking in the woody musk and his natural cool masculine scent that immediately calms you down.

"There, there. Was anyone mean to my Baby?" He cooed and cup your cheeks in his large palms. "Why are you pouting? Are you hungry?" Insensitive he is at many things but Satoru can pride himself in being observant, especially with you.

"I don't pout when I'm hungry." You scoffed at his stupid guess.

"I beg your pardon?" Satoru rolls his eyes at your remark. He knows how cranky you are when your tummy is empty. He hums and with his thumb and forefinger pinch and squish your cheeks. "Yes you are, my little brat."

He kneaded and squish the apple of your cheeks, amused at how soft and adorable you can get, so much that he wanna bites you!

"'Shaoru nooo! Swaph!" Your words became muffled as you tried breaking free from his fingers but Satoru has another thing in mind.

"What's wrong? I'm not letting go until you tell me." He stuck his tongue childishly and kept a firm hold on your cheeks. Stretching and kneading your cheeks like a mochi until they are now like the cheeks of a blushing maiden.

"That's my pretty girl right there."

"I'm not pretty anymore! It hurts!" You accused with tearful eyes, cupping your aching cheeks

Satoru just chuckled and gently cupped your cheeks over your hands, delicately brushing the underside of your eyes.

"What's wrong Baby? It's either you tell me or gonna tell me?"

Where is the justice in those options? Your shoulders slumped and motioned him to hug you.

"I don't wanna sell the painting I have with you..." Came out like a whisper as you bury your head into his chest.

"Well, you don't have to." He sighed, stroking your head.

"But I need the money." Yeah... you need it. Rents to pay, bills to be due... This is not a fairy tale where it's a happy ever after when you pursue what your heart is passionate about you got to put your effort and sacrifices to make it work.

"You have me." Satoru comically points out. Your hand weakly punches him and Satoru groans in amusement. Too bad he didn't bring his black card with him today. But you're not that kind of woman. "You know what Baby, I can model for you again. I know you can make better ones. You're a great artist, believe in that."

The next day you watch your artworks being carefully moved out of the showroom to be shipped and delivered to their distinctive new owners.

"And that's it?" you asked Ruka, your assistant, the two of you glanced in the showroom with nothing more left.

"I already listed everything Y/n-san, you can check about the sales and expenses." After you two settled everything you're finally done for today.

After much deliberation last night with Satoru, you came to the conclusion that it's okay to sell it. Satoru believed you can do better and supported your decision as well. The price, however? Satoru suggested at least a million.

Name your price... The buyer said and Satoru took that to heart talking about the market value of his face and etc.

¥2,500,000.00

Sold... You were secretly hoping the buyer would back off but it was a piece of cake and the payment was wired into your account without hassle.

Time to start a new project, it seems. You opened the door to your home. Plopping yourself on the sofa to soak in the much-needed thinking time. Still a bit sad about the painting but you understand it's for the best at this time.

"Hey, you're home! How was it?" Satoru sauntered into the living room, fresh out of the shower. The idiot dropped himself on top of your resting body, basically crushing you with his weight,

"Done, tired..."

"I cleaned your art room." He whispers and kisses the back of your neck. "Praise me, quick!"

You weakly chuckled at his lame attempt of childish way to grab your attention. But hey it works... pretty effective too.

"Thank you 'Toru, you're the best." You reach out and brought the back of his palm to your lips, kissing it with heartfelt thanks.

Satoru's lips stretch at those words. Yes, he is. He comes down of your body and lifts you up in his arms. "I'll show you how a good boyfriend I've been."

"I'm tiredddddd!" You whined but wraps your arms around his neck, letting him carry you like a princess across the room.

"I knew you were sneaking behind my back at midnights to come down here and paint." Satoru starts and your spine stiffened. You knew how much of a light sleeper he is put you thought he never noticed it. "I also know your arms go numb and those stiff necks after painting for hours. How sore do you get after working." He asks you to open the doorknob to your art room and he pushes it with his foot.

"So I hope you won't make me sleep on the sofa for doing this to you." He walks in and turns to the right.

A painting hung on the wall, right exactly where you hung it after you completed painting the canvas.

You don't know how to express the emotions when you saw the painting right in front of you. A silent whimper and whine left your constricted throat as you bury your face in your hands and hide in Satoru's neck.

"Why did you do this to me?" You sniffled between muffled sobs and small laughs. "You're bad." What sane boyfriend would make his lady agonize over her being sold work only to buy it behind her back and present it as a gift? "Ahhhh..." You cried and breathe in but the smile on your lips is palpable, glaring at Satoru with indicting eyes and yet you cannot hide the happiness bubbling inside you..

Satoru laughs, he sets you down and pried your hands away from your face.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He tried to suppress his laughs as he watches your watering eyes leak down tears on your cheeks. You're pouting and crying but your eyes swim in delight. "You like it?" Satoru gathers the beads of moisture rolling down your face with his thumb. Wiping your tears away, knowing that deep in his heart you may be crying because of him, but he can mend and make it up to you more than you can imagine.

You nod while laughing in your sobs. "'Toru! You don't make your girlfriend cry overnight and make her cry again in daylight." You held his wrist and feel the edges of his fingertips wipe away the last of your tears. "Why? You're so bad." You pouted and look at him for answers.

"Why?" Satoru chuckled and wipe the tears away so you can see him clearer. "Coz you're the only person allowed to admire my body... The only person I want to look at with my ocean eyes..."

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya

[traitors-and-threats]

Yandere Tom riddle x sort of artistic little reader?

Warning: yandere behavior, clueless reader, artistic reader, sort of ddlg relationship, silent reader, agoraphobia

Tom riddle was a very possessive man and you were a clueless little girl who knew little of the real world

You and tom were already friends in the orphanage, it all started by you getting in trouble for painting in the wall. In tom's mind it looked beautiful..

But no matter how many times you get in trouble you never stopped painting..

It was your coping mechanism, you would make paint out of what you find and use a tooth brush you have stolen from billy though he never knew that.

It only took while to get Tom's attention, your paintings were interesting to him, he knew there was a meaning behind those pretty paintings

So when you two got older, tom started to watch you more and the paintings became more disturbing...

First it was a pitch black hand with claws and dripping blood

Then a man silhouette standing in the door with a knife and blood in the background

now it was a heart and wasn't those pretty hearts you drew in kindergarten, no..

It was a realistic heart and added black veins everywhere

Of course nobody would know about your paintings since when you became a witch and started attending Hogwarts you kept silent, no matter what happens you always kept silent, scared to speak without feeling discriminated..

You would release all your anger by painting disturbing arts and hid them in the forbidden forest.

But the other thing that made everybody fear you is the fact every single person who ever wronged you or mistreated you either had a serious injury, bad luck, loss of love one and other tragic happening

And you didn't know that, well you didn't do any of that well intentionally.. it was all Tom marvolo riddle and you were clueless..

One day tom finally had the courage to talk to you, you were scared. You always were.

But a little more time you grew comfortable with tom, you even show your paintings to him and he loved it

Especially the heart one..

And after you graduated. Tom took you and locked you into the riddle house but you liked it..

You didn't feel like someone was gonna attack you and you wouldn't be able to escape.

Tom was there to take care of you and spoil you, he would buy you the finest arts supplies, hang all you're paintings around the house but kept the heart one inside your's and tom's room. He also bought you books to occupy yourself.

You always found comfort from other people's suffering. Tom took note of that and made sure to buy you books with characters most likely the main antagonist suffers from anything just someone who suffers.

He would caress you when you sleep, feed you, even bathe you, brush your hair, style it, dress you up and etc.

You were his perfect little painter and you forever will be.

You grew a little close to Malfoy, he was like your older protective brother, who would always make sure you're safe but treats you equally and tom approved it.

Tom was satisfied and so are you..

"you're mine and I'm yours forever and always darling, I'll make sure you never feel the same fear ever again" he mutters to you as you fall asleep in his arms and kiss your hairline

[seraphdreams]

✯ featuring - jean kirstein & eren jaeger x fem! reader.

contains - double penetration, anal, praise, degradation, overstimulation, wombflooding, dumbification??

a/n - based on this delicious FANART

it’s dizzying. the warm bodies pressed up against you taking reign over your own. surely a couple of drinks couldn’t lead to you being sandwiched between your boyfriend, jean, and his best friend, eren. the situation started off with the two of you hanging out at eren’s place, tossing back a glass of what seemed to be expensive champagne.

now it’s hard to even recall the recent events when jean has your leg buckled over his arm as he takes you from the front, thrusting deep into your cunt with a low groan while he throws his head back. “fuck..” he rasps, drunk off the pleasure you were feeding him. his thick cock stretches you out so well, he practically feels too big to fit as he slowly drags himself inside your walls.

there’s that dizzying feeling again, that mindless headspace as they continue to use you how they want, filling both your holes full. you wrap your hands around jean’s neck, a fucked out, dazed expression on your face. you’re so pretty like this—numb to the feeling of the two large men before you.

you quickly rasp out a moan as you feel yourself grow even closer. jean narrows his eyes at you, pure lust dusted over his features. “you gonna cum, pretty girl?”. before you could even answer, eren’s hands come to your waist, pulling you even harder onto him. “go ahead and cum for us, slut”.

you quickly rasp out a moan as you feel yourself grow even closer. jean narrows his eyes at you, pure lust dusted over his features. “you gonna cum, pretty girl?”. before you could even answer, eren’s hands come to your waist, pulling you even harder onto him. “go ahead and cum for us, slut”.

jean quickens his pace, helping you reach that high. “you feel so good baby” he praises as you rut yourself faster on the both of them. meanwhile, eren can feel himself growing closer as well as he throws his head back, the stray strands of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “play with yourself for me” eren demands, and you mindlessly obey. you dip your hand down to play with your clit, causing you to grow even closer until you eventually cream over jean’s cock, coating him in your warm arousal.

“good girl, such a good girl for us” jean praises once again. you mewl out in overstimulation as eren follows suit, filling up your hole with his cum. he pulls out slowly, watching the strings of his cum drip down.

jean is last to reach his orgasm, burying himself in your cunt, pressing against your cervix as he floods your womb with a low, deep growl.

there’s a brief moment of silence where you try to recollect your thoughts, only to be brought back when jean and eren suddenly switch places. this was going to be a long night.

tags - @rekiri @glittrkink @peachy-momos @kirsteiiins @yeagerslut @megumisbimbo @megumiumiu @arte-misa @inusdoll @iconicbabii @healpeony @jarmeen @ereh-simp @fiaficsxo @marleyterians @1252291 @rosexfics

[hypaalicious]

ARKNIGHTS IS FINALLY FEEDING US WITH MORE MALE OPERATORS; THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Okay I meant to scream about this hours ago before I was RUDELY INTERRUPTED by unexpected Tseng thirst, then I had to do language study before Duolingo broke into my apartment with a knife to kill me for breaking my 1500+ day streak, THEN I had to run a few lessons in Twisted Wonderland before midnight rolled around and reset the Flora spellbook Alchemy lessons I needed…

BUT NOW, LET ME TAKE A MOMENT TO FANGIRL- oh shit I need to cycle my base. 😱 Uh… well um, Chile anyway first things first:

Okay so I thought his name was Czarny and I was like 🤔 “this don’t look like that Kazmierz dude from Maria Nearl event” but then I squinted and his name is actually Czerny so… yeah that tracks.

… HG I swear it’s okay to diversify names a little. LOL

But the DRIP??

As an Arts Defender isn’t an archetype I use like, at all, he probably won’t see time on the battlefield but he WILL see time in my bedroom.

SilverAsh: 😒

… I mean, uh… in theory. Yes.

Anyway, he’s a music teacher and ofc it puts me in mind of my old vocal coach in China whom I miss dearly. So Czerny is going to be “Crazy Musical Genius” in my head.

Then look at THIS gothic sir looking to unseat Phantom for Terra’s Next Top Edgelord. TWOOOO male Operators?? In one event?

Now ofc this makes me kinda wary that HG is gonna be like “WELP we’ve reached our yearly quota of husbandos” after this and just inundate us with nothing but waifus for the rest of the year which would make me sad. But I’m also still hopeful this starts a trend of having at LEAST one male Operator per new event or something. The female to male ratio in Arknights is less than equal and while I know most of the fanbase is cishet male, I like to eat, too. 🥲

Also the art is BUSSIN’ like:

Every single time I don’t think HG can get better, they go “Hold my beer”. And the soundtrack for Lingering Echoes is PHENOMENAL. Walk in the Dust has me in a chokehold but this is probably going to unseat it.

They DID THAT.

Edit: FORGOT, AOSTA FINALLY IS GETTING A SKIN

Thank god this boy got clothes that actually fits him now. 😭 Kirara’s skin is also bussin’, my OP does not stand a CHANCE whenever this comes to Global.

[thegremlincrowsnest]

Porn Idea #548

Aizawa/Hizashi/Reader 

I’ll be posting this to AO3 after some final editing but I was too impatient to share it with you guys! 

CW: Afab language, daddy is said, double penetration, anal, Cernunnos just being a really horny mofo You're a new art teacher, married to a fellow teacher, Shouta Aizawa, the history teacher. You started working with him a few months ago, part-time,  after finishing some freelance gigs and wanting a change of pace for a while. It was nice working with your partner and teaching a new group of students to love the arts as you do. However, Shouta slowly gets jealous of how often you innocently flirt with the music teacher Hizashi Yamada and the gym teacher Toshinori Yagi. From there, that’s when he starts picking up some of his old gang behavior, wanting to claim you and make sure no one messes with what’s his. Hizashi definitely tests him by letting his hands linger on your back or shoulders when Shouta is watching. Hizashi was his old second in command from back in the day. He casually speaks in code to Shouta even when you're present. Whenever he was at your house, he lets his hands slide up your thigh or play with the elastic band of your short shorts. He would snap them, chuckling at your squeals and keeping eye contact with Shouta as he says, “Careful, my dear, don’t want to fuel the thoughts of wolves that hunger for you.” All you can do is blush and not fully understanding the weird vibe they’re giving off to each other but doesn’t question it. 

After Hizashi makes that wolf comment what Shouta goes, “Well, I don’t think there are any wolves brave enough to bite what’s mine....” to try and push Hizashi to the edge. Of course, Hizashi rises to the challenge, pulling you back against him, his arms wrapping around you while he looks at your lover, saying, “And what if there was a wolf brave enough?” Shouta walks up, pressing close to your front as you Y/N.exe stopped working as you were sandwiched between two men who have some history. “W-would anyone like some lemonade? Hizashi let his hands trail down your sides, digging his fingers into the top of your thighs. “The only thing I’m thirsty is for you, darling,” Shouta growls at that and leans in to say, “Hizashi...if you wanted me to fuck you senseless again, you didn’t need to tease my partner like this,” to which Hizashi smirks and grabs your throat, tilting your head upwards, saying, “What if I want both?” Shouta chuckles, moving your head back and leaning in to kiss you softly, asking, “What do you think, my love?”

You’re in heaven blushing and letting them handle you like some prized possession. Hizashi just smiles and lets his hands slide back up over your breast. Chuckling at the small noises you make. “You picked a perfect one as always, Shouta.” Then finally, you snap out of it a little and weasels your way out with a chuckle. “L-let me get that lemonade for you boys”“Oh no, you don’t....don’t avoid my question, baby,” Shouta would say as he grabs your wrist to pull you back in. Pushing you to his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist to pin you against his throbbing cock. “I want to know what you think of Hizashi here...eating you out while I pound this ass...” 

Hizashi moans at the suggestion, holding onto your hips and grinding his own dick against your ass. “Don’t tease me with a good time like that, baby...” Hizashi moans in your ear; you could only moan softly and lean into them. Your eyelids drooped, and you press your ass against Hizashi some more. “I-I’d like that a lot, Sir.... mmmm, I think Hizashi is quite handsome, and I-I wouldn’t mind him eating me out if you’d allow it.” The scent of their cologne mixed together made you dizzy. You had to press your thighs together to prevent any of your juices from dripping onto the carpet. The two boys share a look. It was only for a moment, but it’s almost as if they had a full conversation. Because before you could register what’s about to happen, Hizashi chuckles and turns you around, pinning you to the counter, standing in front of you while he leans down to grab the counter by your sides. “You think I’m handsome, baby? Even with your sexy husband around?” He teases, leaning in to kiss your neck. His fingers slipping down to play with the hem of your shorts. You squealed and ran your hands through his hair. “Ohh~ I mean, I’ve always thought you both were very sexy,” you say as you switched from looking at him to Shouta. you rubbed your thighs together and whimpered at the intensity of his gaze. “Fuck boys, if you’re just gonna tease me, I’ll just leave then~” Shouta grabs your neck tightly. Turning you to face him as Hizashi drops to his knees. “Do you really think you could leave right now, baby....” he stares into your eyes. “Your job is to feed the hungry men in this house. And you have two to satisfy,” he says as he leans in to kiss you, wanting to devour you now but knowing the best is yet to come. 

Meanwhile, Hizashi chuckles while he pushes your thighs apart, enjoying the view. “How could you leave when you’re a mess like this?~” he teases as he runs a finger through your pretty wet lips “what do you want me to do about it?”You couldn’t help but squeal as you came. Squirting onto Hizashis face as your thighs quivered and your back arched, blushing furiously. “Oh god...I-I’m so sorry Hizashi...t-this has never happened before. I’m so embarrassed.” Your heart pounded as you looked up between Shouta and him, expecting a laugh or look of disgust. ”Well, that was a first. Fucking hot, that’s what it was,” They say to one another. With a primal growl, Hizashi roughly spreads your thighs open and dives in to devour you. His tongue teasing your entrance as he takes the time to also suck on your clit. Shouta gets stunned for a moment before giving a low chuckle, “who knew my darling love had more tricks up your sleeve?” He says all sweet as he then rips the front of your shorts open, “if you’re gonna act like a whore you should look like one.” You threw your head back and moaned loudly again. “Fuck yes, I’m a whore~ a cock drunk whore! Jesus that feels so good~” you tugged his hair gently as you looked to Shouta. “Please, sirs have your way with me...I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. “In that case....” Shouta pushes Hizashis’s face away from your cunt and lifts you up, to then roughly toss your ass up onto the kitchen table “in that case, well, eat you up till there’s nothing left.” Shouta spreads your legs open by kicking your feet apart, and after he lets his erection out, he slaps it onto your ass. “Beg bitch”. Meanwhile, Hizashi strips and moves to stand in front of your mouth. His dick sliding across your pouty lips. You squeal and push back to try and grind against his cock. “Fuck me, sir~ please fill me up and use me!”  You licks against Hizashis’s cock gently before opening your mouth for him, looking up at him with a soft whine.  Pushing back, almost sliding Shouta’s cock into you, but he groans softly as he pulls back. “God, I need you both inside me so bad~” You moan out. “What do you think, Hizashi?” Shouta teases, letting his cock rut gently against your lips, not giving you the friction you desire just yet. “Aren’t they beautiful?” He asks while his hand caresses your ass and slaps it occasionally. Enjoying the moans coming from your lips. “I agree with that,” Hizashi says as his breathing gets heavy, holding onto your chin and letting his thumb run across your bottom lip. His cock throbbing against your cheek. “But I think we both know how to make them look even prettier,” he taunts. Looking up to Shouta. In silent understanding, ignoring your begging, they both ram their cocks into you fully at the same time. Shouta grabs onto your hips and fucks you slowly, while Hizashi holds onto your head. You could only squeal as they began to use you; looking up at Hizashi, he swore your pupils turned to hearts as they fucked you. Drool and precum began to drip from your lips as you push back against Shouta, clenching around him and grinding against his hips. Slowly you move your hands onto Hizashis hips, gripping them as you helped him fuck your throat.  You squealed and moaned helplessly, in pure bliss at the two men ravaging you like an animal. The men moan and grunt as they thrust into you. Shouta makes sure to slap your ass to keep you moaning underneath him. “You like that, huh you whore? Being treated like a cocksleeve just for us?”  Hizashi moans at that even. His hands running down your chest to pull and pinch your nipples. “If you want more slut you’re gonna need to make us cum. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?” Hizashi says. You pull back and jerks Hizashis’s cock as you whimper. “Fuck, if you let me ride you both, I’ll be able to show you want I really can do~” clenching around Shouta, bouncing against him slowly.  You look up at Hizashi with big eyes as you say. “Don’t you wanna fuck my ass Hizashi~” Hizashis knees buckle a bit at that suggestion. He looks from your messy face to Shouta’s with pleading eyes. Well, who is he to say no? He pulls out of your pussy and takes a step back. He twists you around to lay on your back and pushes your feet towards your head “hold onto your ankles, baby.” With a giddy smile, you do as your told, holding your ankles to your head. “I’m ready~” He smirks down at you as he slides his cock into your pussy, moaning appreciatively as he does so. And then he wraps his arms around you to lift you up, clutching you against him. Without missing a beat, Hizashi comes up behind you. Kissing the back of your neck and sliding a finger into your ass to get you ready for him. You let go of your legs, allowing them to hang off of his shoulders. Whimpering softly, you nuzzle into him as you feel Hizashis’s fingers. Desperately wanting to grind against those fingers and the cock deep inside you groaning in frustration. “More~ please more!” Hizashi smirks, bringing his hips to your ass, massaging your cheeks with his fingers. “What are we to do with such a naughty kitten like you?” He teases, slapping your ass roughly. “Already so full of cock but wanting more...” he pushes his tip against your tight entrance. Shouta tilts your chin up to kiss you, “I guess we need to punish them then by filling them up.  You can’t leave the house if you’re full of cum.” He says. You could only whimper as you felt him press against your entrance “H-Hizashi, don’t be a tease anh!”  You said as you tried to push back. Hearing Shouta say they’ll fill you up sent you into a spiral. Shivering and squirting on his cock you whimpered. “Yes! F-fill me up, please!~ I’ll be a good Kitten.” you babbled on as you felt your mind slipping. "Tsk tsk making such a mess..." Shouta says. "Looks like it’s time to plug them up~" Hizashi continues for him, thrusting his full length inside your ass. The two of them thrust at different times, constantly changing the pressure inside of you. They both lean into the sides of your head, Hizashi giving you praise while Shouta continues to degrade you. You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips as you were filled. Threading a hand through Hizashis hair, you leaned back. “So good~ you guys make me feel so good,” you moan softly.  You can feel the beginnings of small bruises on your hips and thighs but accepted them fully. Your holes leak and throbbed around the two cocks inside of you. Then you had a wonderful idea “C-come on, Shouta~ Don’t want Hizashi to outdo you.” Hizashi chuckles at that. “Am I making you feel that good baby?” He says as he looks Shouta in the eyes. Continuing, he says, “Make you feel so good you wanna be bred on my cock? Make you full with my cum to have my babies?” This makes Shouta possessively growl and slap your ass “who are you to be making such claims bitch?” He then grabs onto your throat to slightly choking you. “you will cum on my dick, and you will enjoy it. Like the cock whore you are. Be bred.” You moan softly at the feeling of his hand. Then smirks when you say, “Make me~” you loved pushing his buttons and seeing how far you can take him. “Make me, or else I’ll ask Hizashi to hold me up while he fucks my ass in your face.”  You clenched around their cocks as you felt Shouta growl and thrust faster. Hizashis hands move up to pinch and pull your nipples, reaching down to rub your clit as he keeps slowly fucking your ass. In return, he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers pushing deep onto your muscles, forming bruises that will be visible all week long. He was going slow to be nice and match Hizashi in your ass, but if you wanted to be a brat like this, he’d treat you like the ragdoll you want to be. He growls and starts moving you on his cock and thrusting faster and deeper into you. “Looks like I need to remind you who’s in charge here, kitten....” he leans in and marks up your neck as he says, “If you behave and tighten up, maybe I’ll fill you up like you’ve wanted.” Your eyes crossed as you squealed, “yes, daddy~ fuck, please fill me up. I want your babies!” Your resolve faded as you felt his cock hit against your womb entrance. Hizashi chuckled and started speeding up as well, making your body shiver. “H-harder, please, daddy fucking put me in my place, please!”  You say as your pussy tightens up around them both.  You reach down to rub your clit as you watch his cock disappear inside of you. He grins and keeps this pace, making sure every thrust into your sloppy pussy hits you deep. “Look at this whore, playing with their clit while we fill them up, Hizashi....” he teases and smirks at the blonde “what do you suggest we do?” Hizashi also smirks and leans in to kiss your shoulder, picking up his pace to match Shouta’s. “I think we need to fill them up for days....that sound like a good idea?” He grins and keeps this pace, making sure every thrust into your sloppy pussy hits her deep. “Yes, yes, fill me up! Fuck I want your cum so fucking bad~” you lean back and pull Hizashis’s face close. Kissing him deeply as your other hand cups Shouta’s cheek. “I feel so good~ god, you’re both so fucking thick~,” you say as you feel them throb deep inside of you. It’s a nice sight, seeing the two of them kiss. Not that he’ll admit it for now. But he knows he’s getting there. He leans his head on her shoulder and focuses on how soft and wet and warm you are. God, he can get lost in you for hours. You’re gonna look so good full of his kids. Over and over. “God baby, I’m gonna fill you up...” he moans, shuddering as he thrusts fully into you and filling you up with his cum. You hold onto him tight as you feel him cum deep inside.  You whimper softly and bite down on his shoulder as you cum as well.  You feel Hizashi stop and look back, confused. “What’s wrong?”  You ask cutely. He helps Shouta pull out before thrusting into your pussy cumming as well. He groans and rubs your clit softly, helping you through another orgasm. “Oh god~ I’m so full~ fuck daddy, it feels so good” Well shit...that was a surprise. Shouta thought, but you look so happy being full, so it’s okay for now. Carefully he and Hizashi get you to sit on the couch. More so, sitting on a combination of their laps. Their hands and kisses soft on your skin, helping to soothe you. “What a good kitten you are, baby...” Shouta praises you, “maybe we need to have guests over more often.”

[starmieknight]

Gray Morning, Golden Home

Pairing: (poly) Jeongguk x Jimin x Taehyung x Original Character, [background OT7 implied]

Summary: (Indulgent fluff without much plot) Hari has a quiet morning with her magical boyfriends and their many, many familiars.

Contents: soft, magic!au, college/university!au, fluff without plot, jimin is a troll, jeongguk is a good boyfriend, taehyung is soft, oc is whipped, there are so many pets/familiars i had to make a sidenote to keep up with them all

The morning was cold and gray and damp.

Hari grumbled, still half-asleep as she buried her face in the folds of her comforter. The pale morning light was shining through the gap in her curtain, not warm, but piercing and cool. She was a fan of mornings like these, but still didn’t like to wake up any earlier than she had too. 

Fortunately, it was the weekend and she wasn’t forced from the comfort of her bed by any alarms or pressing arrangements to get to class or work on time.

Hari could hear Bass yelling in the kitchen, the little cat demanding her breakfast as the dogs ran around the linoleum. There was a pause from the cat and the sound of cat food being poured into a dish. She could hear Jeongguk quietly scolding Holly and shooing him away to his own bowl. 

Hari snorted. Rapmon was the one that needed looking after the most when it came to stealing cat food. He was one of the biggest of their bunch, but quite sneaky when he put his mind to it.

She sat up, taking a moment to just stretch and sit quietly while she continued to wake up. Kkanji was laying by her feet, the older cat snoozing quietly with her fluffy tail over her face. Hari smiled at her, amused that Taehyung’s familiar was sleeping with her instead of her own. But Bass was an unusual type and wasn’t one to wait around for Hari to drag herself out of bed when there was food to be had - or other coven members to bully.

Kkanji ‘murrrped’ at her as Hari ran a hand down her soft back, startling the cat awake. A soft purr filled the room as the sleepy witch lavished the familiar with affection before pulling herself out of bed.

The door next to Hari’s was still closed and she could hear Taehyung snoring inside. She cracked it open to take a peak. Three heads popped up from various points on the bed, Soonshim’s eyes glowing in the darkness for a moment before he recognized Hari’s scent. He opened his mouth to let his tongue loll out and his tail thumped against the bed. Yeontan and Sangdol scrambled out of Taehyung’s arms to jump up against her legs for her attention. Soonshim rose and stretched before leaping out of the bed and following the group at a more sedate pace.

“C’mon, guys.” Hari urged them into the kitchen. “Breakfast time.”

Jeongguk looked up at her as she and her entourage entered the kitchen, the dog’s nails clicking against the floor to announce them. He smiled sleepily at her and Hari felt her heart give its familiar jump at the sight. Even after months of exposure, she still had a hard time controlling her feelings.

Holly and Rapmon left his feet and their bowls for a moment to greet Hari and the other dogs before hurrying back. Bass only flicked her ears to acknowledge her witch, too concerned with her breakfast to do much more. Kkanji hurried into the kitchen behind the rest, quietly looking between Jeongguk and Hari to see who would feed her first.

Only Gureum, Mickey and Jjangu were missing from the bunch, the latter pair no doubt dogging Jimin as he got ready, the oldest of the familiars rather clingy to the temporary leader of the coven while the eldest members were away.

Hari was still nervous about how the atmosphere of the house would change when the rest of the boys returned home. Her joining of the coven hadn’t been planned and was an unusual one, given that she hadn’t even met everyone in it yet.

But the way that Jeongguk smiled so warmly at her and opened his arms to usher her in for a hug made her relax, stepping into his embrace like she was coming home. Her head was tucked under his chin and he smelled like a silly mix of Mountain Dew and faint sweet perfume and laundry detergent. She hummed contently.

“You were up all night binging that game again, weren’t you?” Hari asked in amusement, wondering where he found the energy to still pull all-nighters when she could barely make it through the day sometimes. Gureum’s mysterious absence hinted at a magical boost, the little dog likely recharging after helping Jeongguk stay up all night. “How are you awake still?”

“I’m gonna go take a nap after breakfast.” Jeongguk promised before she could scold him. “I figured I could go ahead and cook for you guys since I was already up. Jimin-hyung’s in the shower.”

“Tae’s still asleep.”

“I’ll wake him up when the food’s ready.” There was a vague, tingling feeling in the air that always preceded the use of magic, and the cabinets opened. Jeongguk’s eyes glowed slightly as he pulled plates and utensils out, four sets of tableware floating to the table.

Hari was slightly jealous of his ability, her own magic still too unrefined and imbalanced for her to feel safe with object manipulation like Jeongguk could. It was basic magic skills and her lack of magical upbringing made her own magical education somewhat lacking.

Hopefully Namjoon could teach her control and fundamentals when the rest of the boys returned home. Jimin said he’d offered to help her when they had their last phone call. It wouldn’t take much longer for their coven to be complete again now that the older coven members were no longer looking for the answer to their curse breaking.

There was a squeak from down the hall as the water shut off and Hari realized in the sudden silence that Jimin had been in the shower the entire time. She squeezed Jeongguk once more before letting him return to breakfast and she sat down on a barstool to watch him.

He was quiet and focused, having already set up several smaller side dishes while he cooked enough jeon for everyone. The smell of frying potatoes made Hari’s mouth water and reminded her of the hashbrowns her mom used to make for breakfast back home. Having grown up around her mom’s mostly white family in America and their set ideas of breakfast, the way the boys made their breakfast was still a bit odd to her, especially since most of the time it didn’t feel like breakfast to her.  Hari enjoyed it and was reminded of the few times she’d had breakfast with her paternal grandfather. Luckily for her, Jeongguk listened to her better than her grandfather and remembered her extreme dislike of fried eggs.

Set aside from the boys’ larger dish, was a nice little bowl of scrambled eggs, just for Hari.

Her chest felt warm and content.

Bass, finally finished with her breakfast, brushed up against Kkanji and Rapmon on her way to Hari, jumping into her witch’s lap. Bass’s funny, broken purr was loud in the kitchen as the young cat aggressively showered Hari with love, headbutting the witch’s chin so hard it seemed like she was trying to become one with her.

Hari laughed and scratched the scraggly cat under the chin, ducking down to give Bass better access to her face and receive love.

She nearly fell out of her chair when another head bumped into her own. Jimin caught her easily, laughing at her reaction and keeping her on top of her stool.

“Yah!” she scolded, slapping his shoulder. “You scared me half to death! And you’re dripping all over me!”

Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with mirth as he shoved his head into her neck, making her squeal as her neck was soaked by his wet hair. His silver locks were nearly gray when wet and left cold trails against her skin as he mimicked Bass. The feline familiar was only too delighted with his actions and redoubled her efforts, trying her best to headbutt them both at the same time.

Jimin only pulled back when the cat stuck her nose in his eye.

“Sorry, Hari-ah.” the silver haired man apologized, not looking the least bit remorseful. “I saw my chance and I had to take it.”

“He’ll be worse when you and Hobi-hyung are together.” Jeongguk warned, looking amused. “You guys are both the jumpy type and Jimin-hyung is a troll.”

“You say that like you’re any better,” Hari snorted, leaning back from Bass. The cat promptly lost interest in her and went to harass the dogs.

Mickey scuttered away from her to hide behind Jjangu and Rapmon, still wary of the excitable cat. Hari had to admit that Bass could be a bit of a bully to the smaller dogs if they let her. The witch scooped the Shi Tzu up into her arms for safety.

“I’m a selkie,” Jimin protested, whipping his towel at Jeongguk. “And the fact that you’d compare this face to a troll just proves that you need glasses.”

“Okay, Jin-hyung.” Jeongguk mocked, referencing some trait of the oldest coven member that Hari didn’t understand yet.

Jimin grinned at the joke and ducked down to kiss Hari so quickly that she barely had time to register it, her ears going red as he sauntered over to the stove. “Want me to finish this up? I’m not volunteering to wake Taetae up today.”

“I’ll get him.” Hari volunteered, carrying Mickey with her down the hall. “Gukkie’ll just roll him down the hall when he doesn’t wake up.”

“You just want to make out with Tae without us.” Jeongguk teased, fake-pouting with Jimin.

Hari lifted a hand to flip them off as she rounded the corner, the sound of their laughter trailing after her.

The room was still dark and the air conditioning was blowing a steady stream of cold air in, making it the ideal sleeping setting. It was no wonder why Taehyung slept so well and deeply. 

Hari made a mental note to take more naps with him in his room, the atmosphere just different from her own room in a cozy way. She used her own room for too many things besides sleeping, not having a playroom or art room like the other boys had. From what she understood of the unexplored rooms, the older members of the coven had private workrooms too - music studios and offices, Jimin had explained when she first started living with them.

Maybe in time, she’d ask them to add a room for her too. It would be fun to watch the magic they put into the house bloom.

Hari wondered how the house would sell one day if they ever wanted to move, having so much space inside when it looked so small on the outside. She loved it.

Taehyung snuffled and turned his face into the pillow as Hari pulled the covers back, sliding into the warm space between him and the edge of the bed. The smell of lavender and freshly washed sheets surrounded her, making Hari glad she and Jeongguk had finished the laundry recently. Taehyung procrastinated in changing his sheets too much for her taste, something she learned early on in their relationship.

He turned his head, still asleep but drawn to her warmth. Hari smiled and tucked herself into his side, kissing the edge of his jaw lightly. Taehyung’s lips twitched up into a slight smile, his eyelids fluttering a bit at the new sensation. Hari pressed another kiss to his jaw before starting a trail up to his cheek, his nose and finally his lips. She felt them curl beneath her own and had to pull back when her own smile grew too big to continue kissing him.

Taehyung hummed, trying to chase after her. Hari kissed him again quickly and rubbed a hand over his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging lightly at his hair like she knew he enjoyed. He sighed at the feeling, finally cracking his eyes open to look at her.

“Good morning.” Hari said simply, laying her head on the pillow next to his. She could spend every morning like this, lazy in love with her boys and exchanging hugs and kisses freely. 

It was harder to do outside the house where she was only openly dating Taehyung and left longing to hold hands with Jimin and Jeongguk. At least, in the realm of the non-magical. The boys assured her that things were more liberal in the magical communities.

“Morning,” Taehyung murmured, trailing his fingers over her arms and raising goosebumps from the ticklish sensation. His voice was even deeper than normal and rough from disuse and Hari could feel it reverberate in her chest. “Can I get a wake-up call like this every day?”

Hari pretended to think about it. “I dunno, I may have to rotate schedules with Gukkie and Jimin. I’d like to wake up like this too, y’know.”

Taehyung smiled fondly. “Then I’ll take a turn tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” Hari said genuinely, stroking her hand over his hair once more. “Jeongguk made breakfast. We’re just waiting on you.”

Taehyung leaned forward to kiss her one more time before sitting up, giving Hari a peekshow of his stomach as he stretched. She eyed the sliver of stomach she could see between his t-shirt and shorts appreciatively. She almost wished that Jeongguk and Jimin weren’t waiting for them so she could have some time to show her appreciation - or that they would come back to the bedroom and join her.

But the sheets were newly cleaned and breakfast was getting colder by the second.

Taehyung muttered something that she didn’t catch as he slid out of the bed, pausing a moment to greet Mickey where he was waiting on the floor, and headed out into the hallway.

Hari watched him go, lingering in his bed for a moment. She closed her eyes and laid back, soaking in the familiar smells of Taehyung. She could hear him join Jimin and Jeongguk in the kitchen, a cacophony of greetings from their many familiars almost drowning the boys out for a moment.

It felt like home.

Hari smiled contently, her heart feeling full.

“Hari-noona! Your breakfast will get cold if you don’t hurry!”

“Hari! Moon Hajoon! Did you get lost?”

“Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

Hari chuckled and called out. “Coming!”

[goldafterglow]

embellished lungs

Summary: Ezra buys a pretty thing for a pretty thing.

Request: hc about what renders Ezra speechless 😶 - @lose-eels (this is not even what you asked for but fuckin here ig im sorry sgkfjdshg)

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Warnings: a big fat drabble?, very really soft, not beta read and tbh barely even normal read i read this maybe twice oops

Author’s Note: i almost put this just like under the ask but I’m not gonna sit here and act like this is a drabble bc i’m a clown. i don’t want to talk about it. and spitting this out bc I was soft for Ezra and @mrpascals made me

Gif Cred: my wife and my baby @pascalplease

masterlist | taglist modifications

He spies it in the open market while he’s stocking up on supplies.

The day is hot, the Sun bearing down on its disciples with a violent red fury, but it’s light is strong, bright. Everything is reflective, hot to the touch from boiling in the heat, and all of the creatures begin to melt together like dyed wax to form one big discernable blob, if you really squint. Ezra’s sweat escapes the barrier of his brows and leaks past his lashes, dragging across his eyes and stinging a little, blurring his vision and dripping onto his arms, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too exhilarated.

The market in itself is absolutely brilliant to him; he’s always been enthralled by this, by people and pretty things, and to be completely surrounded by both felt like something akin to sensory overload. His heart is racing at the sight of people traversing the dirt road, loitering and browsing through produce colored so vibrantly he wonders if the bright red apples and deep indigo berries have been dipped in the tinted glow of fairies that dance in the forest. And he’s utterly taken by the art and trinkets. He’s always had a little soft spot for art - a tender, exposed section of his beating flesh that is so sensitive, so delicate and so easy to provoke. And right now, he seems like he’s subject to a battering ram, pounding against his chest in the best way possible.

His eyes dart around quickly as he tries his best to take everything in. He finds himself cherishing every little interaction, every stranger whose shoulder he is forced to brush in an attempt to make his way through the market, every vendor that begs to him, calls to him to try “just one last berry sir. I’m sure your lover will be delighted by the raspberries from yesterday’s harvest.” He ended up buying a quaint six ounces just so that he could feed them to you. But that would be a treat for later.

And just like that, he is thinking of you. The prettiest, most beautiful thing. A sculpture with imperfections so perfect that he knows it must have taken eons to craft you out of gold and diamonds and the soft fluff of hummingbird feathers and butterfly wings. You are art, a walking, breathing, touchable piece that he gets to admire up close. It’s a privilege, really, to have been gifted with Kevva’s finest handiwork.

As his pupils peruse the stands, admiring his surroundings, they suddenly become frozen in place, permanently stuck on a little trinket that’s caught his attention: a necklace. The gem sitting in the center isn’t aurelac; it’s much more vibrant, much more dramatic and almost rainbow when he looks at it from different angles. The chain isn’t long, and knowing you the gem would fall right between your collarbones. He can already envision you wearing it, like a child flicking watercolors onto the Venus de Milo, but he wants to see his deep green paint draped around your shoulders. The way he sees it when you wear his clothing, when you’re adorned with bruises of his passion like stars adorn the sky, when you wear him. It’s intoxicating, seeing that he’s had any impact on your life and that you parade it around like a trophy. That you think about him without him prompting you to do so - not that he isn’t constantly in your presence. But he wants to buy it just so that he can see you wear it. Perhaps even only wear it.

He’s already thinking about how fucking gorgeous you would look in it. He is thinking about putting it on you, tugging on it ever so lightly in a way that signals to you - that is, rather than exerting any true force on you - that he wants a kiss. Perhaps pulling on it a little harder so that metal bites your skin and you can feel it, feel him digging into the soft flesh of your neck. Now he’s imagined a thousand scenarios in which he can have his way with you just by getting you to wear this piece, and he has to purchase it.

When the vendor finally hands it to him, packaged with care and placed deep into the hollow of a black velvet box, he finds that it barely fits in his pocket. He doesn’t care, though, because it’s too exquisite an accessory to be thrown in with the other supplies and it’s too precious for him to take it out of the box. He’s excited when he comes back to the pod, back home where you are.

Home is you.

He assumes you must’ve heard him come in, the pod door loud and rambunctious as he dumps the bags into the center of the pod space and then crawls in himself - it was hard enough with two arms, nonetheless one. He lets out a sight as if to let the excitement drain out his vessels and into the atmosphere of the cockpit, mingling with the peace and solitude to create a soft buzz that zings through his ears and vibrates his eyes. The exhilaration from being the market was utterly electric, but he is home now. He can crawl into you, let you absorb into him, and he likes how you can make his heart race a million miles and yet also pacify him, a cold compress to his aching soul to help reduce inflammation. He wants to maintain that semblance of the intricate pastel harmony, adorned in lilac and peach hues. So he stands in the middle of the cockpit and closes his eyes, lets himself sway to the rhythm of his lungs for a moment. Just a fraction of solitude, and he doesn’t mind because ever since he met you he has never felt lonely, not even when he’s alone. He always feels you with him.

Once his head has cleared, he palms at his pocket where the little black box still resides, as if to check that he hadn’t dreamt up some fantasy ornament that would look so perfect on you. It’s still there; of course it is, and he feels foolish for thinking that the pretty butterflies would have fluttered it out and flown it away, but sometimes he wonders if the same thing will ever happen to you. If one morning he will wake up and you will have migrated with the birdies, off to seek true warmth because you’re not real, because nothing so good as you could ever be caged by him.

He steps into your shared bedroom and spies you with your back to the entrance. The room is cool, but you’ve elected to wear his shirt, even foregoing pants. His favorite outfit of yours, and he knows you know it. You’re wearing headphones, something he’d picked up for you on your last supply run, and he can tell you’re playing one of those instrumental stations you so adore listening to when you were working. A mutely-colored map is stretched out onto the desk, and he’s not even sure you can focus the music because your mind is moving faster than your poor hand can keep up as you mark up a new dig site. He almost feels bad for interrupting you while you’re in such deep concentration, your forehead smashed into wrinkles without even noticing, but Ezra cannot resist his greed for your attention. Ever so gently, he places his hand on your shoulder from behind so as not to startle you.

You almost immediately register the delicate touch, turning the radio off and pulling your headphones off your ears so you can give this kind artist your undivided attention - Kevva herself knows he's earned it. You turn your head to face him, craning your neck back so you can take his softly smiling depiction like pressing a plush blanket into your face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you coo, letting your pen fall tumultuously from your hand. The sound of it clanging against the table and then rolling around to a stop fills the room, but you can’t hear it; Ezra is talking now.

“Hey, sweet stardust,” he greets back, voice orange and warm like the heat that simmers under the stars during the summer at midnight.

Comfortable.

 “Hey” was never his preferred salutation, and he’d tried to omit it from his vocabulary for so long, but he started to notice that he likes it when you say to him. Like a little pearl of your voice, so sweet like honey with the honeycomb still mixed in, a little grainy and so cheeky.

“Did you get everything we need?” you ask, beginning to stand to that you can press a hand to his chest, grounding him to the pod and to your sanctuary soul. Ezra grins wide, unable to hide his excitement at your words.

“I in fact exceeded our needs, sweet rose bud,” he says with a pride that fills up your chest and makes you want to hold him tight because you love when he gets giddy like this, with the childlike enthusiasm of showing your parents the shitty drawing you made or your ugly macaroni art. Ezra is light, his tone airy. “I happened to spot a gem that reminded me of your vision and I couldn’t resist the urge to get it.”

You brow furrows a little, not out of confusion but out of curiosity. Ezra’s taste has always inspired you, and you knew his never ending quest for art is always in an attempt to find beauty in everything. You don’t even have to look at it to know that it will be stunning because his stamp of “pretty” approval is your gold standard.

He pulls the box out and opens it facing you so that you can get a good look, really admire it, and you are already taken by the shimmering pendant.

“Oh Ezra, it's - it’s utterly magnificent,” you gush, and he can spot that little glimmer in your eyes that you get when you’re looking at something that you’re enamored with; they way you look when you’re gazing at him. You raise your chin to look at him, his cheeks rosy with delight and sweet eyes crinkled at the corners. “Put it on me.”

It’s not so much of a demand as it is a gentle instruction; you know he wants to, know he’s been thinking about it since he bought it, and you want to be open to him. You want to invite him into your heart, inside of the flower garden of your chest, with open arms because he deserves to feel wanted.

You help him pull the chain out of the bottom of the box, keeping one end in your right hand and letting him take the clasp in his left. He wills himself to move slowly, to savor every little stimulation you send through his skin as he steps behind you. His fingers press against your clavicle, tracing along the bone before traveling up over the valley of your shoulder, tips of his hands brushing against your throat. He is feeling you, mapping out your body because he’ll never get to see an angel in his life but he’s certain you must be the spitting image.

You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and intoxicating as a small film of dampness coats your exposed back and neck. Your right hand rests at the nape of your neck, waiting expectantly, but you don’t rush him. He takes his sweet, sugary time, because the surface of your skin feels like he’s running his fingers through a field of silicone needles, firm but harmless as they stimulate a sensation he never knew he could feel before he touched you for the first time. You’re addictive, the best high he’s ever gotten, and he almost lets his hand lose all abandon and travel so carefully down the front of your body, palming your breast along the way and pressing right into your diaphragm before he keeps going down, down, down…

Almost.

But he will save it for a later time, especially since he’d been fantasizing about you wearing the necklace like a carefully chiseled bust is adorned with sashes. So finally, after what feels like hours of roaming and teasing, you feel that calloused, worn sensation of your lover’s fingers seeking solace against yours. You pin your breath to your lungs, not daring to let it go as you wait for the heavy release of his hand indicating that the necklace is secure. But even once you feel it, even as you let your right hand fall down at your side, Ezra does not take his hand off of you. You don’t want him to.

Slowly, so that he never has to cease his touch, you turn to face him. You’re still looking down at the pendant, in awe of how the gem rests so perfectly between your collarbones. You can’t see Ezra’s adoring gaze, his completely awestruck fixation on how ethereal you are to him. Like you’re emitting a golden glow, too hot to touch and yet begging, inviting his fingers to feel and press and hold. 

Celestial.

He feels his emotions expand in his stomach, diaphragm threatening to spasm. His hand trails up to your chin, palming your jaw as he tenderly lifts your line of sight so that he can see your pretty eyes.

“You’re divine,” he mumbles to you, not wanting to disrupt the tight silence, so tense he’s afraid of speaking too loud lest it break and snap against his cheek leaving an angry raised brand.

Overwhelmed with appreciation, you balance your hands on his shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting it linger so you can savor the honeysuckle dew on his skin. “I love it,” you whisper with a grin.

Ezra giggles.

When you pull back to face him proper, his face is utterly red. His smile reaches the lobes of his ears, bashful and boyish like his belly has just been tickled by the sweetest of baby chicks, and he can barely get a word out. He can’t speak. His mind is in overdrive, completely inundated with a blistering adoration for you and your approval because you said you loved it. His gift is not a splash of children’s watercolors; it is a clean swipe of gold running along your jaw, accenting your beauty and emphasizing just how exquisite you are to him.

“Yeah?” he managed, a soft giggle still passing his lips like the first cries of a baby deer, the first flutters of a newly hatched butterfly.

Adorable.

You can’t resist the urge to giggle back, placing a hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a true kiss on his glittery lips. It only lasts seconds, however, because Ezra can’t stop smiling and you can’t stop giggling, so you both settle for the blissful solitude of pressing your foreheads against one another, breathing in each other's air and taking up the same space.

“It’s gorgeous, Ezra. Thank you,” you whisper lightly so that the wisps of air tickle his upper lip, and suddenly he is so inclined as to press his left arm into the small of your back so that you’re so much closer and kiss you the way you deserve; a dynamic series of long, deep, searing kisses that send you to the clouds and drop you into an endless pit of lavish fluff at the same time. You don’t know how he does this, makes you feel like you don’t exist and that there isn’t anything in the world but you and him, and you often wonder if it’s because Ezra is within you, or that your broken parts and his broken parts make some hauntingly majestic sculpture of its own; something better than the fucking Venus de Milo or Athena or Great Sphinx because it should be something so hideous and yet it feels to utterly priceless to you.

It’s precious.

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again, you can join/leave my taglist here :)

[oniongarlic]

10,15,20 for the ask thingy

10. What's that one thing that inspired you to make drawing your consistant hobby?

haha well. the short answer is if i stop doing it i will lose all my money and my house and wont be able to feed my dog and outside of my specialized skills i am basically unhireable. i was about 10 when i came to grips with my general incompetence at everything but drawing was the one thing i could consistently achieve, so i leaned real far into that. not that people have to get the idea to do art at age 10 to be successful, but it just happened to be that for me.

15. Biggest artist pet peeve?

probably people who try to bargain with me on prices. its just really rude and also nonsensical like, its a luxury good that takes a lot of hard work to create, so yeah its gonna be a bit expensive. this doesnt happen to me so much anymore tho. and when some of my oil paint dries matte on the canvas while the rest dries glossy and i have to oil things in a million times and then deal with drip accumulations. also when i accidentally create raised ridges in the paint where its supposed to be smooth. every time im kicking myself. and also dust and animal hairs getting stuck in the paint film.

20. What works have you drawn fanart of?

jeez its been a while since ive done fanart.... like. naruto? inuyasha? oh ive drawn pokemon tho, most recently anyway. i dont really do fanart unless im paid to bc like i just dont have time rly.

ty for the ask!

artist asks

[bang-tan-bitches]

Title: Covet Word Count: 3.1k+ Rating: NSFW Genre: Smut or PWP, Drama Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Cream Pie, Implied Come Eating, Praise Kink, Mild Dirty Talk, Slight Manipulative Behavior, Non-Linear Narrative Pairings: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung Summary: Agreeing to meet Lee Ji-Hye’s boyfriend Park Jimin was your first mistake Written by: Admin B

“You’re doing so good baby. Do you think you can take another? I gotta stretch open this beautiful ass of yours.”

You shift back against Taehyung’s chest, his words warming your already flushed skin. You nod your head and whimper slightly at the feeling of a third finger slipping through the tight ring of muscle.

“Look at our good girl, Jiminie. Isn’t she gorgeous?” Taehyung’s voice is a pleasant murmur as his other hand tweaks your nipple.

You glance down towards Jimin, who is kneeling between your legs, leaving hot opened mouth kisses on your inner thighs. His dark, dark eyes burn into yours as he answers, “Fucking perfect.”

You can’t stop your gasp when he spreads your legs wider and buries his face in your soaking wet cunt.

-0-0-0-

You loved Lee Ji-Hye like a sister.

You met at Seoul National University. You, a young, foreign exchange student struggling with being in a foreign land, and her, the older, beautiful student that took you under her wing. She was hired straight out of college at YG Entertainment and she made sure that once you graduated, you received an offer of employment there as well. You were hired as an International Media Relations Specialist and while you had no contact with idols, unlike Ji-Hye, you still worked closely with her and became close friends. Best friends.

When YG Entertainment fell into scandal, you followed her to BigHit Entertainment. She was your confidant in everything and you trusted her with your life.

Agreeing to meet her boyfriend Park Jimin was your first mistake.

You kept refusing at first. You honestly had no idea why Ji-Hye wanted you to meet the Park Jimin. You knew the facts. He is a member of one of the world's biggest Kpop boybands, he can dance, he can sing, and he was absolutely gorgeous. You had no reason to ever cross paths with him. While you did work for BigHit Entertainment, your job was dealing with the media and foreign press. You had absolutely zero contact with any of the idols and you were actually thankful for that. When Ji-Hye started dating Park Jimin, you never dreamed you would actually meet him.

Ji-Hye had to practically beg for weeks before you finally relented. You told her repeatedly that Park Jimin wouldn’t be interested in meeting a little nobody like you, but she begged to differ. She told you how she had been talking his ear off about you since they met and it was actually Jimin who asked to meet you first. Although you were skeptical, you agreed once she promised it would only be one time and she would never ask you again.

She lied.

-0-0-0-

“Oh Jagi, you’re so wet.” Jimin’s voice is a reverent groan between licks of your pussy, “You’ve needed us, haven’t you? It’s okay baby, we’ll give you everything you need. We’ll take care of you.”

You can barely breathe out a “please” before Jimin latches onto your clit and sucks. Your body spasms as it’s thrown into an unexpected orgasm and Taehyung has to hold you down against him as he continuously fucks your ass with his fingers.

“I need you both inside me.”

Both of your boys still at your words, and you can tell they are having some sort of private conversation with their eyes. You watch as Jimin shifts up onto his knees and rubs his thumb along your pussy lips before dipping it inside of you.

“Are you sure, pretty baby?” Taehyung’s voice is a warm rumble in your ear as he slips his fingers out of you, “Are you sure you’re ready for both of us?”

You lick your lips and make eye contact with Jimin.

“Yes.”

-0-0-0-

The first time you met him was a pleasant surprise. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, but Park Jimin was as nice as he was gorgeous. As the three of you sat in a small circle booth in the back of a smoke filled bar, his attention seemed to be focused entirely on you. He seemed utterly fascinated with everything you had to say and was constantly redirecting the conversation back to you. If it was anyone other than Park Jimin doing this when his girlfriend was sitting right next to him, you would have considered it rude and think he was blatantly hitting on you in front of his girl. But when you glanced at Ji-Hye, she was staring at him with a look of complete adoration on her face and you realized he was just making an effort to know his girl’s best friend.

By the end of the night you completely understood why Ji-Hye was so wrapped up in Park Jimin and you were happy for her. Jimin truly was the perfect guy. It was only a week later when you found yourself in the same tiny booth in the same smoke filled bar surrounded by the same people and one addition - Kim Taehyung.

You had learned all about Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung through your time living in South Korea. BTS were superstars and it was hard to be anywhere in South Korea without hearing about them.

Taehyung was equally, if not more so, charming than Jimin. Between the two of them, your glass was never empty and anything you wanted or needed they didn’t hesitate to get for you, no questions asked. Again, the conversation seemed to revolve entirely around you. Jimin and Taehyung seemed to have an abundance of questions to ask and never seemed to grow tired of listening to your answers. At first, you were suspicious that this was some kind of double date set up, but besides the pointed looks Jimin and Taehyung would exchange when they thought you weren’t looking, Taehyung never made a move on you.

You were equally relieved and disappointed.

-0-0-0-

“You gotta relax baby.” Jimin’s voice is soothing as he helps spread you open for Taehyung to slide inside your ass.

You try not to tense, but it burns as Taehyung slips the head of his cock inside you and buries his face in your neck. You close your eyes and grasp at Taehyung’s forearms as you feel your body stretch to accommodate his thick length.

You pant and clench when Taehyung bottoms out at the same time Jimin’s warm, wet mouth latches onto your nipple. His tongue laves over it before suckling softly.

“You need to hurry up Jiminie,” Taehyung’s voice is a strained groan as he tries not to thrust, “I’m gonna end up blowing my load before you even get inside of her. Our girl feels like heaven. I swear she was made for us.”

-0-0-0-

Before long, the four of you were constant companions and you found yourself squeezed between the two kpop idols more often than not. You didn’t find it odd when Jimin and Taehyung would bring you coffee to your office or leave you random gifts they brought back from trips to foreign countries. You assumed they did the same for Ji-Hye.

Then one day, Ji-Hye was visiting your office and was fiddling with a beautiful golden paperweight on your desk. When you casually mentioned that the boys had brought it back from their most recent visit to America, she had gotten the strangest look on her face. She left shortly after that and you shrugged off the look. Ji-Hye was always pretty straight forward with you, so you figured the look probably had something to do with a scheduling conflict she had coming up, but you couldn’t let go of the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Later that week you were finally able to pry out of her that the boys, that Jimin, never brought her gifts or coffee or anything. That things seem to be cooling off between them and she didn’t know what to do. That Jimin hadn’t had sex with her since the night he met you. While her tone wasn’t in any way accusatory, you still felt like she blamed you. You decided the only way to fix this was to stop accepting their gifts and to distance yourself from them.

Your decision to avoid them was your second mistake.

-0-0-0-

Taehyung nuzzles your neck as his hands grip your thighs to spread you wider for Jimin. You glide your fingers through Jimin’s hair before his mouth unlatches from your nipple with a wet pop. He sits back on his knees and strokes himself slowly.

“Look at you Jagi. Spread open and so slick and swollen. You’re dripping for us. Such a pretty picture.”

You can feel your breath catch when he lines himself up, running his length slowly along your slit. He presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you still as he slowly feeds his cock into you. His eyes are locked onto the place where you are joined.

“That’s it baby. I know it’s a tight fit, but you can do it. Take it all.”

-0-0-0-

You could freely admit that it wasn’t easy avoiding them and your heart clenched painfully every time you returned a gift they left. You questioned whether you were making the right choice because even though you were doing this for Ji-Hye, your friendship was still strained. You hoped that she would see the lengths you were willing to go for her. You hoped that this would fix her relationship with Jimin, but you had the feeling that your friendship would never be the same.

After almost two months of having successfully avoided the boys, you were caught off guard to receive a phone call from Ji-Hye begging you to come out with them to an art exhibit. You declined at first, but after hearing the desperation in her voice you reluctantly agreed.

Walking up to the gallery, you could see them standing outside waiting for you. Ji-Hye looked visibly upset while Jimin and Taehyung looked tense. Taehyung’s expression was stony indifference and Jimin seemed agitated. When they finally noticed you, all their expressions changed. Jimin and Taehyung immediately straightened up and large, happy grins spread across their faces. They both reached for you at the same time and you ended up pressed between them in a warm hug. When you glanced at Ji-Hye, she gave you a forced smile. The evening was spent with you wrapped up between the boys as they showed you the art pieces they loved and while you tried to include Ji-Hye, she was quiet and seemed distracted.

This started a pattern where Ji-Hye would continually invite you out places and make you feel guilty if you refused. You would finally agree and before the trio noticed you arrived, the boys would look angry and Ji-Hye would look upset. Once you alerted them to your presence, Taehyung and Jimin would positively beam and shower you with attention, while Ji-Hye would watch you three with an odd look on her face, almost as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Letting Ji-Hye guilt you into these outings was your third mistake.

-0-0-0-

“So good baby, So tight.”

You didn’t have words to describe how full you felt. Pressed between the two idols, one sliding out as the other pushed in. Jimin licked inside your mouth before kissing you deeply, one hand holding your hip while the other held the back of your head.

Taehyung was leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your neck between whispers of affection and hard thrusts of his hips. You let Jimin dominate your mouth, his tongue swallowing your gasps and moans.

You could feel your orgasm building inside of you. It was coming on fast and you felt yourself press closer to Jimin, trying to rub your clit against him.

“You gonna come pretty baby? You gonna come all over us?” You felt the warm fingers of Taehyung’s hand snake down your body before circling your clit.

The feel of Taehyung’s warm fingers touching your hot, slippery clit sent you into an immediate, explosive orgasm. Jimin pulled away from your mouth and let out a guttural “Fuck!” at the feeling of you clenching and shivering around him.

-0-0-0-

This happened several times before something in Ji-Hye’s countenance changed. She seemed happy when you showed up and would immediately monopolize your time together. You almost felt bad for ignoring the kpop superstars, but you were excited to have your friend back. It was almost like before, except for the smug smiles she would give the boys that she thought you didn’t notice.

Things continued this way for awhile before everything came to a head at one of Bighit Entertainment's exclusive idol parties. You had never been to one, but Ji-Hye was invited and asked you to be her plus one. You readily agreed, equal parts excited to attend an idol party and see the guys in tuxedos. Once at the party, you went to the bar while Ji-Hye went looking for Jimin.

That was where you met Jung Hoseok.

He sidled up next to you and introduced himself before commenting on how clever Ji-Hye was. Hoseok remarked that while he didn’t agree with Ji-Hye’s tactics, he could appreciate such an underhanded move. It was practically criminal. When you voiced your confusion to what Hoseok was referring to, he smiled genuinely at your naivety before explaining everything.

Jimin and Taehyung were clearly in love with you. Jimin hadn’t broken up with Ji-Hye because she was your best friend and he knew that you wouldn’t choose him over your friendship. But Jimin was selfish and still wanted to be around you. Ji-Hye realized this and used it to her advantage. She loved Jimin and wanted to keep him. When he started distancing himself from her, she would entice him out places with the promise of you being there. Taehyung would come too because he was equally, if not more, in love with you than Jimin. Ji-Hye would flaunt you in front of them knowing that you were what they desperately wanted, but couldn’t have.

It was cruel and it was vicious.

-0-0-0-

You could feel yourself gush around your boys, their grips tightening on you as they thrust. The wet sounds your body was making urging them on.

“Fuck jagi, is this all for us?” Jimin’s words were breathless as he slowed his pace, leaning back to watch his cock slide in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I told you Jiminie,” Taehyung’s voice was husky and deep, “She’s the one. Our girl was made for us. Weren’t you baby?”

You can do little more than nod and turn your head against Taehyung’s shoulder, peppering kisses on his neck. You feel him groan against you and pick up the pace, sliding into you harder.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna come soon. You gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up?”

Jimin’s words cause you to clench and tighten, both men gasping at the sensation.

“You like that jagi? You like hearing how Jiminie is gonna fill up that perfect little cunt of yours? How the thought of you dripping with our come has me ready to flood this tight, beautiful ass?”

You can’t stop your orgasm at Taehyung’s words. Your body trembles and squeezes both boys inside you, triggering their own ends. Jimin presses against you, his mouth open in a quiet groan as his thrusts turn sloppy and uncoordinated. Taehyung is completely still, his breathing harsh as he pulses inside you, both men filling you up.

“That’s it pretty baby, let us give you everything.”

-0-0-0-

And in the end, it was all true.

The confrontation between yourself, Ji-Hye, Jimin, and Taehyung was brief and anti-climactic and could hardly be called a confrontation at all.

Ji-Hye admitted to everything. Disregarding your years of friendship in pursuit of trying to keep her dying relationship intact. Jimin and Taehyung both confessed to being in love with you and while they did not go about handling it in the right way, they did not regret a thing.

You were saddened to know that you lost your best friend, even though you could admit, if only to yourself, that you hadn’t felt like best friends in a long time. And while you did care a great deal for the kpop superstars, you weren’t sure if it was love.

But you were willing to find out.

-0-0-0-

Jimin continues to press soft kisses against your forehead before pulling out, watching his come leak out of you.

“Oh baby, that’s a beautiful sight.” You smile bashfully at his words and feel Taehyung shift behind you before slipping out completely.

“You’re perfect baby. Jimin knew the moment he saw your picture that you were the one for us.” Taehyung presses a soft kiss to your shoulder as he maneuvers your body against the soft pillows on the large bed.

“My picture?” You ask, as you sink further into the pillows and blankets, feeling boneless and completely satisfied.

Jimin and Taehyung share a significant look that causes you to tense in alarm. “What about my picture? What aren’t you telling me?”

Taehyung quickly disappears into the adjoining bathroom, while Jimin slides up the bed to lay next to you, softly running his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t get upset jagi. Please don’t get upset. It’s just that when Ji-Hye and I started seeing each other, she talked about you a lot. It's hard to trust people in this industry. I had to make sure you were legit.”

You nod in understanding to Jimin’s words when Taehyung returns with a warm wash cloth and proceeds to clean you gently between your legs.

“Hoseok-hyung was able to get your personal files easily enough and once I saw your pretty face, I was hooked. I had to learn everything I possibly could, but I wanted more. I wanted to meet you. I was able to talk Ji-Hye into introducing us, and that first night was incredible. You are incredible baby. I had to tell Taehyung.”

You glance at Taehyung, who had discarded the used wash cloth and was slowly running his fingertips along your side. “It’s true. You were all he could talk about. He told me that you were our girl, that you were meant for us. I wanted to meet you, so he had Ji-Hye set it up. Jimin was right, the moment I saw you… I knew you were the one.”

You try to sit up, glaring at Jimin, “You used Ji-Hye! That’s not right. She didn’t deserve that.”

“Yes, I used Ji-Hye, but Ji-Hye used you too. Who cares. The fact is that we don’t love Ji-Hye. We love you. You’re our girl.” Jimin’s words were soft, but firm. He pressed a kiss to your temple before showering your face in softer, sweeter kisses as he presses you back against the bed.

“And we’re your boys.” Taehyung’s words came out muffled from the press of his lips on your stomach.

When Taehyung's kisses shift lower and he slides your legs over his shoulders, you close your eyes and accept the truth… they are your boys.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

Lucy POV. TW: Panic Attack, Mental trauma/coping, PTSD

The university and Lucy’s professors had been really wonderful about everything, even offering to convert her classes to an online option so she could continue. She wasn’t happy about the idea of taking a sabbatical from college, but there was no way she could manage. Not only was it difficult for her to leave the apartment because seeing anyone that remotely resembled Touka sent her into a panic attack, focusing on anything at all was a struggle. Night after night it haunted her dreams and spilled into her waking moments. She’d run scenarios through her mind, all the what if’s, should haves, could haves, often leading to horrifying outcomes. They’d survived, yes, but at what cost?

She didn’t feel the same anymore as if a part of her did die in that apartment or fled to a hidden part of her brain too scared to come back out. The once happy, positive person had become a nervous wreck unable to control her emotions or outbursts. Lucy’s bedroom became her safe zone from everyone, even those closest to her, ashamed and insecure of their judgement. In her heart she knew friends like Levy or Natsu wouldn’t judge... but tell that to her broken mind, because her brain was the one in control at the moment, and insisted they’d look down on her.

All the irrational thoughts. It was her fault for not being careful, her fault she was kidnapped. Lucy knew Touka was growing dangerous, yet walking alone, at night... utterly stupid. She should have been overzealous at protecting herself, but oh no, stupid girl didn’t want to believe anything would actually happen. Until it did. And now she was even more pathetic and weak for not getting a hold of her emotions, for not controlling it instead of it controlling her. The danger had passed. They were alive. Touka was in jail. It should be over, but it wasn’t. Lucy couldn’t move past that night, stuck in an endless loop of fear. So many nights she’d wake up in a panic covered in sweat, the fading images of red... blood... like dripping down a tv screen in a horror movie. It was Natsu’s blood she saw and his screams when the knife had sliced him open.

The first week after the event had been difficult, sitting through an interview with Gajeel, and reliving all the mental wounds. It took several hours to get through it all despite the man doing his best to go easy on her. Each time painful parts came up, Lucy felt the anxieties rise, the mental blurring, the shaking, literally a physical shaking of her body in an effort to dispel the rise of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Interviews are best done without any other potential witnesses in the room to avoid cross contamination, but after Lucy’s first two attempts to talk to investigators failed, Gajeel was forced to allow Natsu in with explicit instructions to sit quietly and say nothing while the woman talked. Of course, Natsu’d been fine with that, he’d do anything to help, even if it was just holding Lucy’s hand. But it only added to her embarrassment. Surely Natsu will eventually tire of having an unstable girlfriend.

Then there was the therapist Levy helped Lucy to find which she hoped would help her to quickly get over the events and move on. So, when the woman explained that such traumas take patience and time to process, Lucy was devastated. It almost felt like nothing was going her way anymore, falling dominoes with no end in sight. She felt so ashamed for having to see the woman in the first place, and now she’s told it would be a long journey towards recovery. Just great! What’s next?!

“Lu?” Levy knocked before opening the bedroom door. “Are you gonna eat your dinner in here again? It’s ready.”

With the curtains drawn, Lucy’s room was dark and the only light available was a small desk lamp next to the bed set to a low setting. She peeked out from under her blanket. “I-I’ll come out in a minute, thanks Lev.”

As soon as her friend closed the door, Lucy exhaled in relief. She knew Levy was worried about the amount of time she stayed holed up in the room, so to dispel some of those concerns, Lucy would join her roommate for meals. She quickly applied a gauze wrap, threw on her long sleeve hoodie, and left the room. It made her feel safer to be shrouded and covered up, so gone were her skirts and tank tops, and hello to long sleeves and pants. If she could cover her face from the world, it would make her happy. Even her overall hygiene suffered. Lucy would forget to bathe or wash her hair for days on end, and it took Levy or Natsu with gentle prodding to get her to do it. She would wear the same clothes for a week if it wasn’t for Levy who made sure she changed at least every couple of days. Hell, she’d starve if her roommate wasn’t feeding her. This was a frustrating cycle, not having the mental energy to take care of herself, then feeling bad because they had to help her with things, which made her feel even worse.

It tore at Lucy’s heart to watch Natsu going through this process with her. She knew he was going through his own struggles, not just mental, but physically healing from his wounds. And here she was, the basket case of instability. Bless him, he never gave up no matter how distant she grew, but after that night, Lucy really didn’t want to talk about anything out loud, not that night, and certainly not the true extent of her pain from it. Both Levy and Natsu knew only what she couldn’t hide from them. Like the panic attacks, and since she really didn’t want them to see her go through one or what she’d resorted to, to calm herself, so the safest solution was stay quiet and not trigger them in their presence.

To show his dedication, Natsu even went with her to her therapy sessions and waited outside the office. Lucy knew it was costing him money to do this, because she couldn’t ride a train which meant cab rides every single trip. It bothered her a lot, but she did her best to hide it, and besides there was one small measure of security in having him at her side when she needed to venture out into the public.

“So, the nightmares are still a problem?” the therapist questioned Lucy. “Are you sure you don’t want to try a medication? It would help to ease them until we can get things under control.”

Lucy gripped to the hem of her sweater. “I just don’t wanna become addicted to that stuff...”

“That’s understandable. But not all are addictive, and I’ll be here to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.”

“I... I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” the woman smiled. “Remember I’m just here to help you, at your pace. I won’t force you take anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.”

“What about the breathing and relaxation techniques? When you feel the anxiety rising, are you trying out the steps?”

“I try... I don’t think I’m very successful at it.”

“Does it work sometimes?”

Lucy pauses for a few seconds in thought before nodding yes.

“See, that is progress!” The woman encouraged excitedly. “Two weeks ago, it didn’t help at all, and now it works sometimes. It’s a big step forward Lucy.”

“Doesn’t feel like it is...” Lucy mumbled.

“I know it’s hard to see it for yourself, and that’s okay. These things take time and practice. Do you remember what I said about these things?”

“Not really.” Which was true. During the first week when the therapist explained the processes, Lucy had stopped listening as soon as the woman said it would take time.

“Let me ask you a question. You like to write stories, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When you first started, were you able to just write perfect stories.”

“Pfft, no.”

“Then how did you get better at it?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. “Practice.”

“Yes! The PTSD requires learning new coping skills as well as unlearning irrational ones. To do both takes practice. The more we work at it, the easier it will get, I promise. One day you’ll be able to look back at this experience and feel stronger for it.”

She really wanted to believe the woman, but it was so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel! Tears well up in Lucy’s eyes, seconds before they start to flow down her cheeks. “Why is this so hard?! I just wanna get back to normal!” She could feel her anxieties rising. “I... I-I don’t wanna talk about it anymore! I just wanna forget it ever happened!”

The woman reached over and took Lucy’s hand, applying a strategic amount of pressure while rubbing her thumb over the webbing in a counter stimulus. She softened in tone. “I wish I could say that would work, but in order to get past it, you need to confront it. Together we’re gonna turn the boogieman into Casper the friendly ghost.”

It was such a weird way of putting things, it caused Lucy’s mind to snap out of the anxiety and snort a sniffling laugh in response. “Casper the friendly ghost?!”

“It was the first thing to pop into my mind,” the therapist laughed too. “The point is, we’re going to work together and slowly bring you to a place where this no longer scares you.”

“O-Okay...”

The rest of the session was tough, and Lucy had come close to a panic attack several times, but as a trained therapist, the woman stepped in at the right times to bring her levels down again using breaks and breathing routines. Sure, with a professional in front of you, it wasn’t as bad, but doing this on her own, the attacks were still winning. At the end of the session, the woman suggested a new technique to try out based on Lucy’s love of writing.

“You’ve heard of art therapy, so just think of this as a different form of creative therapy. Writing a diary is helpful to get out your feelings out in a healthy way. But let’s take it one step forward to use your skills in fiction writing. I want you to try before the next session, writing a story where you interject your emotions, feelings, whatever you want into the characters and story. Kind of like your character becomes you, but now you get to control what happens to them after the trauma they endure.”

“Wait, so you want me to write about a character that goes through what I went through?! Like torture my own character?!”

“Yes, to put it bluntly. Take your pain and unleash it onto the fictional character. It’s a much healthier way of releasing your anger or frustration in something that can’t really be hurt. Do whatever you want to them. But remember you also get to give them the ending you want to. It’s about utilizing a tool you’re already comfortable with and taking back some control. It’ll be normal if you cry, scream, and get upset through the process, but that’s okay, because instead of holding it all in, you’re getting your feelings out.”

Lucy slumped back in her seat. It sounded strange, yet at the same time made a bit of sense to her. Angst type stories were not really her forte, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it, especially since pain is all she was channeling at the moment. She sighed. “I’ll try.”

“And that’s totally okay. All I ask is that you give it a try.”