#holy fuck this one's really goin round again huh

[ftm-radio]

[SCENE: driving back from my appointment]

dad: ...am I going to have to teach you how to shave?

me: uh yeah! at some point, lol

dad: hm. well I can show you the way I prefer, with mug soap and a brush, because the aerosol cans are just no. I showed your brother my way and he likes it a lot better too...

dad: [rambles for a bit]

dad: ...it's really just another chore, you look in the mirror and go 'ugh I have to shave soon' so it's just one of those things you do every once in a while

me, externally: haha yeah, I can't wait :]

me, internally: he's talking about this like it's no big deal, it's not weird at all,,, he doesn't mind the idea of teaching me despite the fact that he never expected to be doing this with me,,,, he's my dad and he supports me even if he doesn't completely get it,,,

[tsuki-sennin]

Very late, but here comes the next round of the DGP Sussy Game! Er, DGP Divergence Game! That's... that's what I meant.

Footbaaaaaaaaaaaall! Footbaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!

-Oh damn, even got the confession cam. I really hope we see these go into like a Total Drama direction.

-...god, Chris McLean absolutely would be DPG Game Master given the chance.

-Anyways, welcome to the Desire Grand Total Drama Death Watch Running Man Kiling School Deadzone Smash TV Apex Games!

-Who shot Mr. Burns?

-Laxative soup! The weakness of any athlete, huh Sae-san?

-"You're very sussy boy, Keiwa-kun."

-Daichi, you seem very insistent on casting blame onto Keiwa in particular.

-"I even cook kids for ."

-Vote now on your phones~!

-God, I have to wonder how popular previous Game Masters were in comparison to Girori and Chirami. I have to imagine they had to shuffle them out every few years otherwise the audience would get really sick of 'em.

-Oooooooh, somebody really likes Keiwa.

-I see Gotoukuji's still taciturn.

-Ohhhhhh, he changed.

-He gardenin'.

-S p o r t s!

-Keiwa-niichan!

-Isn't he a swell guy?

-Jyamatooooo!

-Oh whoops! There goes Keiwa-kun's secret!

-Goaaaaaaal!

-Jyamar Ball!

-No rules, no limits! Just you, the ball, and the goddamn goal!

-Hot damn, Ace!

-Guess he's a big fan of the Powered Builder buckle now.

-Aaaaand Lopo catches Keiwa-kun's masterful pass! Can she keep it goin' with Nadge-Sparrow? Ooooh, and he's got it! He's runnin, he's runnin', but the Jyamato block him! Ace with the interception!

-Damn, we're kicking ass at this game we only learned about like two minutes ago.

-Goaaaaaal!

-Aaaaah, it is pretty basketball-y, huh?

-Not gonna lie, this game seems like it'd be super fun to play in real life with these rules. Just take out the threat to human life and put up some obstacle courses this would be a fixture in a lot of gym classes.

-"Protect the soup kitchen!"

-Firefighter...

-It's him! The polar bear man!

-Keiwa-kun, you're kinda slipping.

-Ohhhh, we're in trouble.

-Halftiiiiime!

-"Get inside everyone, pleeeeease!"

-Ohhhh... Ace...

-Ukiyo Mika? Not Mitsume?

-Ooooooh, he's a stan. How frightening.

-"You guys are assholes, huh?"

-"Assholes with a lot of money and free time~!"

-Ahhh, Sae-san :)

-You seem like a real nice lady.

-I'm gonna miss you next game.

-Anee-chan~!

-Nyan, nyan nyan~! Neon?

-Oh my god, is that were "Neon" comes from?

-Play some fuckin ball.

-They die, they become plant food.

-Ohhhhhh, Gotokouji's really fucked...

-OHHHHHHHH that's creepy

-Ah, yep, didn't work

-Forced activiation!

-Michinagaaaaaa, you ain't gonna win like this, man.

-Oooooh, snapped his arm! Goddamn!

-One win.

-MICHINAGA NOOOO

-OH FUUUUUUCK

-He's the plant zombie buffalo man now!

-Holy shit...

-Is this a whole other place?

-"Oooops~! Guess you don't belong anywhere..."

-Neon's goin' for a catnap.

-Keiwa-kun's the sussy baka.

-But Daichi-kun's the sussiest of them all.

-Ore ja nai!

-"Aaaaaace, help me!"

-"The way you made Giroli look like a total chump was super cool of you, Keiwa-kun :)"

-Buckle theft!

-...THAT'S A FROG.

-So, Keiwa's sponsor...

-Judging by the frog statue, the Japanese artwork behind it, the fact that Keiwa-kun's most associated with the Ninja Raise Buckle, and he's stringing Keiwa along for his own purposes, I believe that this character may be a reference to Gamano from Shinobi. Nothing more than that though, I don't wanna make any assumptions. That's for the Tsuki-Sennin who watches Shinobi every week to figure out himself.

-Kekera...

-Looks like Jean's got a friend. ...or is it "Gene"?

-"Ehhh? No, no, he isn't sussy at all~!"

-Three whole votes!

-Kick off! Two balls!

-Let's begin!

-Deploy! Powered System!

-Protecc

-A present~! Protecc the kids!

-You go, bro!

-Keiwaaaaaaa

-We got goaled.

-Ah, Michinaga's meetin' 'em again! Epic!

-Guess we just gotta wait to see the next goal.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I need a crack fic of Clyde hiding his last present *insert Justin Timberlake Dick in a Box playing*

A/N: I HAVE COMPLETED SO MANY CRACK THOTS IN MY HEAD TONIGHT IT’S SICK THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO HAS FUELED THIS FIRE! @xxcatrenxx I really hope you love the twist I put on this fic, thank you for allowing me to write it out... to completion 👀ENJOY BABE! 

Warnings: mentions of children, all the Xmas feels because I have to with this big ol’ softy bear, a big ol’ dick in a box, slight teasing, ass slapping, Doggystyle, deep penetration from our good ol’ country boi, caught in the act of or slightly thereafter, stuffing, breeding kink, dirty talk because Clyde is the best dirty talker, unprotected sex, cum eating, smut smut and more smut, with a lot of Xmas fluff because I hate myself

“Now what do y’all say to yer mama fer lettin’ ya open these on Christmas Eve?” Clyde bellows out at the kids as they ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at their Christmas themed PJ’s. 

“Thank you, mama,” your five-year-old daughter and three-year-old son collectively turn and run to you perched on the couch, a Tom and Jerry in hand, enveloping them in the biggest hug you could possibly muster. 

“Yer so welcome ma sweet babies,” wrapping them in the fuzzy blanket you had draped over yourself, and kissing them until they begged to be let go of, “mama loves ya so much,” laughing as they screamed in fake cries as they wiggled away from your affections. 

“Now y’all go ahead an’ getcha jammies on an’ all that stuff,” he chuckled, watching you love and kiss on them as they tried to run away, “then ya can come give yer mama more kisses before Santa comes tonight,” they stopped dead in their tracks to beam at their dad who had said the magic word. 

They leaped off the loveseat, bounding up the stairs with new jammies in hand to get their little teeth brushed, and go potty before slipping into dreamland. You moved to get up off the couch to go help with the marathon of getting them to settle in bed before having a strong hand push you right back down. 

“Now, darlin’,” he tsked, the light from the Christmas tree glimmering in his eyes, “ya jus sit here an’ look perty while I get the babies all ready fer bed,” lowering down to steal a kiss from your lips, “you do enough round these parts, let me handle it fer one night,” kissing your forehead as he put the blanket back over your legs and lumbered upstairs to survey the damage from the kids. 

You sighed, watching the fire burn in the large fireplace of your new home, the farmhouse feel enveloping you in the country Christmas you’d been dreaming of since you’d met your sweet husband. The large pine tree beside your couch, emanating a fresh scent coupled with the embers from the flames in the kindling, and the sweetness of your hot drink as you let out a relieved sigh. 

Life was absolutely perfect. You had a home, two perfect children, a doting and affectionate husband, and the financial freedom the both of you had worked so hard for the past several years, not akin to the ‘cauliflower incident’ as you referred to it fondly. 

Above your loud thoughts, a low hum rang through the stairs as you took a sip from your mug. The sound of Clyde’s honeyed voice, lulling your sweet babies to bed with a Christmas story as they questioned every single page he’d read. 

You chuckled at their wonder, asking where Rudolph was in Santa’s line up, how many cookies does he usually eat, and your daughter making sure to tell her daddy to turn the fire off before he and mama went to bed so Santa wouldn’t burn his bottom on the way down the chimney. 

“Goodnight babies,” you heard him whisper, latching the doors to their rooms as he padded down the hallway. 

You waited for him to appear on the stairs, wanting to cuddle up with him by the fire with your mugs of liquor before heading off to bed, but after a few minutes, were growing slightly worried as to what he was up to. 

You released your legs to the slightly colder air, placing your mug on the coffee table as you padded upstairs, enclosing yourself in the sweater you had chosen for the evening. 

“Babe?” you whispered, wondering if he was alright, seeing the dark hallway with no light in your master bedroom. 

“Clyde, honey?” walking into the room to flip on the bedside light, jumping at the scene before you. 

“Holy shit!” you cleared your throat, “what’s goin’ on here?” eyebrows raised as you saw your big bear perched on the ivory comforter of your California king bed, clad in nothing but a pretty big box wrapped around his pelvis. 

“I don’t know Mrs. Logan,” he purred out, “why dontcha open it up ta see what’s inside… I think ya might like it just a lil’ bit,” winking as he watched you inch closer to the edge of the bed. 

Pushing your hair behind your head, gathering your body onto the sheets as you reached for the bow covered box, unwrapping the pretty packaging as his hand snaked behind to grip you full ass perched on your feet. 

“Oh honey,” you mewled, salivating at his large and in charge cock, bobbing at attention, practically springing out of its cage covered in precum and begging to be stuffed inside you, “I love it,” bringing your hands to stuff the oversized sweater in between your legs to curb the aching sensation in your netherregions. 

“He loves ya so much baby girl,” gripping and kneading on your ass as you removed the rest of the contents from his body, “in fact, he may wanna stuff ya like a Christmas turkey tonight darlin’,” smacking the covered skin as you fell forward on his stomach. 

“Would ya like that?” he mewled, gathering your fuzzy covering to push it, revealing your little blush pink panties underneath, “ta be stuffed with me again?” feeling the wetness that had soaked through them in the process. 

“Y-yes babe,” you whined, pushing your cunt into his touch as you sucked hickeys on his belly, “please fill me up,” whining into the darkness of the bedroom. 

“That’s all I want for Christmas big bear,” assuming the position, ass up, face down on the plush comforter as he scrambled his hulking body to position his cock at your entrance. 

“Well big bear is gon’ stuff ya full again,” pushing down the sheer lace to your knees, “make ya all big an’ round again with ma baby,” slapping your ass as hard as humanly possible before sheathing his aching cock into your tight little hole. 

“Fuck!” you cried out, prompting Clyde to grip the back of your head, pulling you up just enough to penetrate that perfect spot of yours, “now baby girl, ya know ya can’t yell like that,” he huffed in your ear, pushing himself to rearrange your guts in knots, “you’ll wake our precious babies up an’ then what?” snaking a hand to tease your clit as he left open kisses on the exposed shoulder of your sweater. 

“I-I,” you stuttered as he sped up his motions on your mound, only to break away again and shove your face into the down comforter. 

“B-babeeee,” whining as your pussy throbbed on his length, the sensation never failing to burn just a little at his girth, “I-I l-love bein’ full a you,” gasping on every push of his cock on your cervix. 

“I love seein’ my perty baby all full a me,” mewling and grunting as he thrust deeper and deeper, balls clapping on your pussy as he drank in your moans, “ya carry my babies s-so damn well,” gripping the sweater that had fallen up your back, pulling you even more flush with him as he railed the fuck out of you. 

The thought of being completely filled, sending a shockwave to your budding clit, a tingling in your spine egging on the flutters in your pussy walls. 

“I-is ma baby almost ready?” he growled, setting an even more brutal pace as he released his flesh and blood hand on your hip, no doubt a bruise already blooming from his iron grip on it. 

His thick, meaty fingers found their way back to your stiffened bud, the slightest touch sending you to the complete edge of your orgasm, “that’s it Y/N,” he whispered, sweat dripping from his inky locks as he encircled the peak in your sopping folds, “cum all over yer cock,” he uttered out, feeling the shockwaves clamp over his member as you cried out in complete bliss. 

“God fuckin’ d-dammit!” screaming as he sped up to ride your wave out into his own, “C-Clyde baby please!” feeling his movements become more erratic as you slipped from your high. 

“I-I’m,” he stammered out, pumping his cock a few more times into your glistening hole, “‘m fillin’ this p-pussy full,” growling like the bear he was as he released his swimmers into your gaping womb, the warmth wrapping your uterus in a hug it so badly desired. 

“Jesus f-fuckin,” he moaned out, hands covering your ass as he stilled himself, shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm, “ya alright darlin’?’ patting your ass lightly, smoothing over the raised handprint he’d left. 

“Ya,” you panted out, trying to still your breathing as you felt his softened cock slide out of you, the sound making you sigh in relief as the air hit your hole. 

“Gah, yer so damn perty,” marveling at the mixture seeping out of your slit, “so fuckin’ wet,” scooping it up to stuff right back in, causing your pussy to clamp back down on his thick fingers. 

“Gettin’ greedy, huh,” he chuckled, watching as your cunt ate up the spend, “ya know we’re gonna hafta do this more than once ta get it right,” removing it to lick up the rest in his mouth. 

“I know babe,” setting yourself up to his blushing chest, rubbing his pecs as you leveled with his face, “remember we have two kids,” raising your pretty fingers to his face only to have him kiss the tips ever so lightly. 

“I know baby doll,” he cooed, pushing strands of hair out of the way, leading your lips to meet his in a searing kiss on the bed. 

“Daddy?” a shrill voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, the both of you freezing in horror as your pupils met, trying to ignore the call. 

Clyde turned around slightly, to notice your daughter crowding the side of the entryway, “y-yes baby?” he whispered faintly, hoping the voice was a figment of his imagination, the color leaving his face as he noticed her sweet little face scrunched up in a questioning look. 

“What were you an’ mama doin”?” she cocked her head to the side, inching into the light, teddy bear in hand, blinking her cute little eyes to adjust to the light. 

“Uhm,” voice cracking as he cleared his throat to give her an answer, not daring to turn around as he was still fully nude, “mama an’ I well, uhm, well we were,” panicking to look back and you completely lost in silent laughter at his starstruck behavior. 

You pat his chest, “I got this babe,” you tutted, pressing your index finger into his plush lips, and glancing over at your little girl, still waiting for an answer. 

“Daddy an’ I were havin’ some alone time baby girl,” you spoke just loud enough for her to hear and hopefully simple enough to understand, “now dontcha think you should be in bed?” cocking an eyebrow “I don’t think Santa will come if he knows yer still awake,” crossing your arms as you stared her pretty little puppy dog eyes into the abyss they were. 

“I jus’ wanted ta make sure daddy wasn’t hurtin’ ya, mama,” a tear rolling down her cheek as she started to back away into the dark hallway. 

“Oh baby girl,” getting up from your spot to lower your sweater and pull your panties back up, “daddy wasn’t hurtin’ me at all, now were ya daddy?” looking to him as you pulled her into a hug. 

“No honey,” he pandered, still facing away to shield her innocent eyes from his now completely limp member, “daddy wasn’t causin’ mama any kinda pain, I promise,” blushing and shying away at his little girl. 

“See?” you pet her little head, “I promise we’re both okay baby,” kissing her forehead, “now let’s get back ta bed now,” leading her back into the hallway towards her room, and tucking her in bed. 

“Mama?” she whispered as you back away towards the door. 

“Yes, baby?” answering her back as you glanced back into the night lit room. 

“Whatever y’all was doin’, I think you won the contest,” her face showing absolutely no signs of joking. 

“Well,” stifling an all-out snort, “t-thank ya, baby,” shying into the hallway to take a deep breath, “I think mama won too,” smiling at her dozing off. 

“Good night sweet girl, Merry Christmas,” whispering as you moved to leave the room. 

“Merry Christmas mama,” her sweet voice echoed back as you found your way back to the bedroom, chuckling in the hallway as you shook your head. 

This was for sure the merriest Christmas you’d ever experienced, and the most mortifying to boot. 

And it all started with a dick in a wrapped box.  

_____________

WELL, I HOPE WE ALL LEARNED A VALUABLE LESSON HERE... LOCK YOUR DOORS AND CLYDE IS FUCKIN’ DADDY WHO NEEDS A PRETTY LARGE BOX TO COVER THAT MANHOOD A HIS... 😉

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND I HOPE YOU LIKED IT, BABE!

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

[heximagines]

HOLY FUCK ANOTHER SEV AUTHOR- YOU'RE DOING THE LORD'S WORK, MY FRIEND. Whilst I'm here- can I get a Severen and Vamp!reader wherein the reader is the only person who can shut Severen up/get him to calm down? 'Cause I feel like if Sev had a s/o, they really would have that magic touch 🥺🥺💕

I love this bastard man so damn much it hurts tbh. This one was fun to write and I hope you like it! 

CW for allusions to an abusive relationship 

Severen was rough around the edges anyone with eyes could see that. But somehow you’d managed to soften some of those edges. Even his family was surprised at how effortlessly you’d wrapped Severen around your finger. It seemed to of happened so suddenly. You were leaning over the bar, flagging down the bartender for a shot, when Severen took notice of a patron paying you a little too much attention. He watched as the man sauntered up and leaned next to you, telling the bartender to make it a double and grab him one too before placing a bill down. Severen knew that you were only going to make a meal out of him but he couldn’t help but feel jealousy bubbling up in his chest. He watched as you turned to him and gave him a smile that was only for him and the soon to be deceased. The man spoke to you in a hushed tone and reached out to card his fingers through the hair just above your ear when Severen decided he had seen enough. Maybe it was because he was feeling territorial that day or maybe he was just antsy but he slipped out of the booth that they’d all chosen to occupy and advanced towards the poor son of a bitch. He snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you away from your dinner, making you shoot him a sour look. “Well howdy there, I do believe you’ve made the acquaintance of my lil honey here.” His fingers came under your chin and he tilted your face up to look at him. You pouted stubbornly and Severen chuckled before pecking your forehead, a promise to make it up to you later. “I’m Severen, and you are?” He turned back to the man had a wicked grin on his face. “Well pardon me, I’m just a stranger. It seemed to me that your lil honey here needed a drink. So I just thought I’d be so kind.” Severen’s eyes flickered to the side as the bartended set the shots down on the bar and retreated with his cash. “Well that is mighty kind of ya.” Severen grabbed one of the shots and downed it, sighing in contentment once the liquid cleared his throat. “That’s the good stuff huh?” The booth behind ya’ll tittered with laughter but you only rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. That was your meal your kill, and here was your boyfriend trying to cut in so his stupid big ego wouldn’t be bruised. He looked down to grin at you when he realized you were still glaring at him, your jaw set. Suddenly he was worried he’d stepped out of bounds. “Severen. Go sit down.” The man beside the two of you laughed loudly. “You heard? ‘ey said go sit down.” Severen’s eyes shot between you two, trying to decide if he was going to let this guy talk like that to him or if he was going to get in trouble with you. “Severen...” At your word he backed up, shoved his hands in his pockets and plodded back to the booth. Not only did the man in front of you laugh but you could hear Homer snickering behind you too. You take a step closer to the man and place a hand on his chest. “Attention down here big guy, I still want that drink.” There was no time to process your words before you were leaning up and sinking your teeth into his neck. You wanted to play with your food a little more but for now you decided Severen was humbled enough. But while watching you stop Severen from getting into a fight was already impressive watching you make Severen completely stop a fight was monumental.

They had always wondered why you were alone when Severen found you. Most vampires stuck together, taking in anyone they’d sired like family. It’d always made Jesse nervous that you came from outside their circle, made it harder to trust you. But you’d carved out your own little niche in his family and Jesse’s nerves eventually subsided. That was until you’d been traveling through Nevada. You’d mentioned having lived there before and they figured you wouldn’t mind a return visit. However, once your stolen Spirit hatchback rolled over the city line to LAs Vegas you requested Jesse pull over. He reluctantly obliged before they all watched you calmly exit the vehicle and start walking the opposite direction, back into the desert. Severen stared back at you, open mouthed and baffled. Quickly he scrambled out of his seat and ran after you. “Wait! Y/n Wait! Where the hell ya think you’re goin’?” You turn and point back towards the city. “Anywhere but fucking there.” For the first time since you’d entered the state of Nevada Severen could clearly see the panic that had been surging through you clear on your face. Your pupils were blown wide and your hands were shaking ever so slightly, he approached you cautiously, eyes soft with concern. Grabbing you gently by the wrist Severen pulled you in. You gladly wrapped your arms around him and held onto him tightly. His fingers scratched soothingly at the base our skull and he squeezed you. “Darlin’ what’s wrong?” He finally coaxed you back to the car and on the side of the road, just outside the city limits you told them about the man who made you like this. It wasn’t a sweet story. It wasn’t one you liked to share. But int the end you’d gotten as far away as you could and leaned to survive this new life all alone. Jesse set his jaw eyes looking to Diamondback who nodded before looking back to Severen who did the same. Jesse patted your knee before turning around to start the car again. “We’ll only stop for a bite, we’ll be in the suburbs before daylight.” You’d known you wasted some of their time already, so you only agreed. You all needed to eat. The entire rest of the ride in you gripped Severen’s hand tightly and chewed your bottom lip. He moved only to wrap his arm around you and hold you close. After a moment he pressed his lips to your ear “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. Ain’t no one gonna hurt you. I promise.”

You quickly realized Jesse didn’t really know where he was going so you stepped in to direct him to yet another tiny dive bar. It was one you used to frequent, but by now you knew it’d be all new staff and patrons. The city moved fast but you stayed the same. When you walked in your guess was correct. The bar was just as low key as you remembered, filled with only four customers, and not a single face was recognizable. You and Severen sat at the bar, waiting to be served, and the others took the corner closest to the door. The bartender was taking her sweet time polishing a glass instead of serving you two and you could feel Severen buzzing beside you, restless. Finally a deep voice from behind the two of you drew her attention, a familiar voice that made you go rigid. “I believe you have customers waiting! And important ones at that. Get a round of shots, the good tequila.” You watched as the bartender jumped, nearly dropping the glass she’d been cleaning before scrambling to work. A heavy hand fell on your shoulder and a familiar scent flooded your senses as the man behind you leaned in. “You still like tequila, don’t ya?” You supposed that in hindsight, coming somewhere familiar wasn’t the right choice.  

Severen was out of his seat and Jesse was across the room before you could even turn to confirm what you already knew. Severen was about to grab him up when Jesse stepped in, holding his arm out and keeping your boyfriend at bay. But that wouldn’t be enough he practically had to wrestle Severen back to his chair as your own was turned slowly towards the predator behind you. A cold hand that felt nothing like Severen’s comforting one cupped your cheek and he leaned in close. “I knew you’d come back. I waited right here.” “We ain’t lookin’ for trouble, stranger.” Jesse cut in, making him turn away from you. He eyed Severen and laughed. “Might wanna tell that to him.” And just like that Severen ripped himself from Jesse’s grasp and launched at your creator. The two men tumbled to the ground and you jumped to your feet. But before you or anyone else could do anything a well landed punch to the face sent Severen flying back, across the bar. His head cracking loudly against the opposite wall in a way that made you gasp. The man before you calmly go to his feet before moving to take a step towards Severen. At the same time you and Jesse closed in, standing shoulder to shoulder to block his path. “I see you went off and found a new family. I’m hurt. No calls? No postcard? Is that how you treat me after all I gave you?” Jesse placed a hand on his chest, drawing his attention once again. “Like I said we want no trouble. We’ll be out of here.” He shook his head at Jesse, smirking. “Not with her you’re not.” In this time Severen was able to recover enough to slide off the bar and wipe his own blood from his busted lip. You quickly ran back to him and grabbed him by the jacket. His hands instinctively went to your waist as he glared across the bar. You shook him until his gaze finally landed on you. You could still hear the two men conversing tensely in the background but you tuned it out. “Severen, you can not fight him. He’s going to kill you.” Severen barked out a loud laugh, “I’d like to se ‘em try! That punch tickled.” You shook him again but his gaze stayed firmly put across the room this time. You glanced back to see Diamondback at the door standing guard and Jesse doing his best to ease the tension on his end. “Severen you promised. You promised to protect me. And I don’t feel very fucking safe right now.” And he could hear it, the way your voice wavered. He’d never once seen you afraid. Not like this. Your grip on his jacket tightened and finally he relented. His posture relaxing a fraction. His hands reeled you in closer. “Then let’s go...” You directed Severen towards a back door, Mae and Homer quick to take the queue to follow. They filed out just ahead of you. Severen stayed firmly put just inside the bar and you were just outside, both waiting for Jesse and Diamondback. Slowly they both retreated as well. Diamond back grabbed your shoulders to guide you away and Jesse grabbed Severen’s to do the same. Before the door could fall shut you heard it, one last taunt. “You’ll be back!”

When you all piled into the car, still hungry and a bit shaken, you wanted to cry. For the first time in a long time you wanted to sob. But you didn’t. Instead you tilted your head back and looked up at the roof of the car, cool hands running over your face. You hadn’t been that scared since you left. And now you were sure if your heart could still beat it’d be palpitating painfully. Silently Jesse started the car and took off. None of you knew where to go from here other than out of Vegas.  

[sneezy-cheeseloaf]

recounting the entire avengers: endgame movie, which i only saw once when it came out, from memory

because i just took the SAT and i want to do anything except think about that so get ready for a fun ride full of holes and my reenactments of scenes and quotes that i remember from however many years it’s been now since endgame came out. buckle the fuckle up

movie opens, clint’s whole ass family fucking dies. cue killing spree fueled by grief and anger. HashTag Relatable

tony is floating through space with nebula and teaching her how to play paper football

holy shit is this how tony dies

“pep” ouc h

oh hey he’s home, dope

The Gang (tm) learns where thanos’s farm is somehow i can’t really remember

“perhaps i judged you too harshly”

“???? thor????” “what? i went for the head”

“five” five what?? days?? weeks??? months???? oh boy i can’t wait to find ou- “years later” HUH???????

steve looks the exact same, so i guess he kept up that workout schedule even through the snap. i mean good for him honestly

and is also running a talk therapy group like sam did

a single smidgen of gay representation but it’s a good start ig

i don’t really remember what everyone else was doing, i just know that tony and pep have morgan now but idk if that gets revealed now or later

the only reason we had a movie is because of a rat. everyone say thank you to Rat for releasing scott lang, please. round of applause

scott’s daughter is all grown up and catch me sobbing over the fact that he wasn’t there to see it

somewhere in here nat is crying and eating a sandwich and honestly girl same

“hey!!! it’s me!!!! scott lang!!! ant man???? also what the hell happened???? lemme IN”

cue scott lang having a single brain cell and bringing up time travel. i think it was him that proposed the idea. maybe not. but imma give him credit

oh yeah bruce and hulk are besties now and bruce is just permanently Like That

and cue everyone being shook at the idea of time travel

time to go see Science Man at his house on the lake

“i wish you had come for anything else.” ouch

gang leaves dejectedly

peter. that’s it. and suddenly tony is all hands on deck

cue science mumbo jumbo in the middle of the night while he eats something out of a bag that i can’t remember

“shit!!” “sHiT!!!” “NO”

“i love you 3000″

Science Man reveals that he has, indeed cracked the code to literal time travel

cue nat, the only person with an umbrella, going to find clint who is busy with murder, as he does

“don’t do that. don’t give me home” stfu budapest man and get in the car.

thor has. enlargened. and is now playing fortnight with korg as a means to cope with what happened plus losing loki, as i think we all would

The Gang is back together and working (surprisingly) coordinately and throwing ideas around and it’s actually very cute. and it makes my heart very happy. and i want to cry every time i think about it because we all know what comes next

scott’s taco gets blown away. bruce gives him another. all is well in the world

and in this exhibit we see the only brain cell in the whole group, which is being used by rhodey at all times

“why don’t we just,,,, (choking motion)” “to a BABY???”

during the time tests someone gets reverted to a baby but i don’t remember who and it’s highkey disturbing

“i consider this an absolute win!!”

cue slo mo walk with the cool white time suits that everyone looks so good in

“see you in a minute” that smile. she looks so happy. sobbing

i think it’s in here that all the color go through steve’s eyes, so let’s just take a minute to acknowledge how pretty he is

“just for the record, that suit did nothing for your ass.” “i don’t remember asking you to look”

“that’s america’s ass.” yes it is scott you’re absolutely right

“i cOuLd dO tHiS aLL dAy” “yeah i knoOoOW”

time for tony to give tony a heart attack and then just stare in what i can only assume is amusement. i’m pretty sure that comes after america’s ass but maybe not

somewhere in here steve is just staring at peggy through blinds and it’s sad when you see it but when you think about it afterwards, it’s so funny for no reason

time to get whacked by a very angry hulk who was not allowed to use the elevator

“NO STAIRS”

tony goes flying. so does the tesseract. loki, in handcuffs, is like “oh bet this is mine now” and. Leaves.

i’m pretty sure it’s bruce who goes and gets schooled by The Ancient One on the multiverse, and i say it’s bruce because i think he’s the only one out of The Gang who could ever actually wrap his head around it

i don’t remember exactly how they get the tesseract but they do

thor and rocket are in asgard and thor has a panic attack, as I think we all would if we had to talk to our dead mother and pretend like we don't know what's going to happen

and remember kids, slapping someone is not the way to handle a panic attack. anyways

a mother always knows

"i'm still worthy!!!!" you always were, thor. you never stopped being worthy

and we have our hammer back

cue sobbing on vormir

“clint. it’s ok. it’s ok.” that smile.

nat’s fucking dead and i’m fucking dead inside let’s keep this party goin

other stones are recovered and i don’t really remember how but hey we got all six

“where’s nat?” cue more sobbing from me and from clint as you can see each and every team member’s heart drop to the fucking floor. especially steve

yeah maybe we’re doing this for half the universe and all the people we lost, but mostly for nat now

tony’s makeshift infinity gauntlet has entered the chat

Green Man is the only one who can physically take the power of the stones, so the fate of literally everything they have ever done up to this point is on him

snap rest in peace bruce’s arm

cue every single person in the theater holding their breath

“guys. it worked.”

cue explosion as their facility gets bombed and i am terrified that it has killed the entire gang

but it obviously has not and i am once again a Class A Idiot

i can't remember if it’s steve or tony who wakes up first but one shakes the other awake and is like “get the fuck up bitch idk what just happened but we got a problem”

everyone is mostly fine. but they’re all alive and that’s what matters

and now we have the setting for the entire rest of the movie basically

oh hey thanos. that’s uh. that’s a big army you got there

i don’t really remember everything that happened with The Past thanos, gamora, and nebula but i remember that gamora once again sees what a twat her adoptive father is and is like “oh hell na”

cue the gang fighting for their lives against Past thanos. literally

oh shit thor’s about to be killed????

OH MY GOD HE HAS THE HAMMER

cue the theater screaming as they should

hell yeah. bonk that giant space grape with the god of thunder’s hammer. you go steve. and look like a badass doing it as you should

shit’s still fucked and they eventually get their asses handed to them one by one

somewhere in here the shield breaks just like we saw in age of ultron. and like damn bro i liked that thing

steve stands up by himself because bitch. you cant kill him unless he says so. he dies on his own terms. he didn’t live for over a fucking century to die like this

our mans is standing up against a whole ass army knowing full well that he can’t win but damn if he aint ready to try

“ok listen strange. you have to open the portal to his left. his LEFT. you hear me???”

“steve. STEVE. on your left.”

cue the most goosebump-inducing scene that i have ever seen and probably will ever see. i would do anything to see that scene for the first time again. that feeling was like nothing i’ve ever experienced

the amazing symphonics are NOT helping my already-about-to-explode-from-excitement heart

now the gang’s ALL here. and we all cry because all of our peeps are back from the dead and we all missed them and highkey grieved for them after infinity war

i can’t remember if steve actually sees bucky yet but i think he does and i wanted to cry on the spot because not only did i miss bucky but man did i just want them to see each other again

cue sick pan of the whole ass marvel roster like smash ultimate, including howard duck somewhere in there

PETER OUR BOY SWINGIN ON IN

“AVENGERS. assemble.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

but we all know damn well that not a single person could hear him whisper that shit. like steve bro speak up a little

and the battle for the ages commences

we get to see all our favorite boys are girls fuck shit up and it’s absolutely incredible. wow it really feels like someone’s missing who could that be.

this is now a very elaborate game of keepaway

“catch” “Catch” “CATCH “CATCH”

“hey queens” he remembered. catch me cryin

“hey peter. got somethin for me?” god i love her. flew through a whole ass spaceship. no stoppin her

t'challa remembers clint's name. he did care

oh yeah scott is fucking humongous again, but third time’s the charm ig. maybe he won't pass the fuck out this time

somewhere in here, strange starts holding like. an entire ocean back and i dont really remember where it came from

we get a whole segment of marvel women kicking ass and taking names and i think i just need to take a minute. WE collectively need to take a minute

carol flies straight through a spaceship and everyone is like ???? hello????? where have you been?????????

carol gets literally headbutted by thanos and doesnt move a fucking inch. and that look of murder in her eyes. she could tell me to walk into a pit of lava and i would not question it. the power

“launch the missiles!!!” “but sir, our army-” “DO IT”

damn thanos our expectations for you were low but holy fuck

somewhere in here i think petter quill sees Past gamora and is like gamora???? and she like kicks him in the balls or somethin and is like “this is the ones i picked?????”

the fight continues and honestly a lot of it’s a blur but damn was it not the coolest thing i’ve ever seen. 

cue strange knowing exactly how this was gonna go down, and holding up a single finger

i dont think ive ever seen that look on tony's face before

oh shit thanos has the gauntlet and all the stones. fuck.

wait holdup that gauntlet looks a little funky

WAIT HOLDUP

“i am inevitable”

“and i. am iron man.”

the theater, once again holds its breath

all is lowkey calm and everyone is shook

thanos’s entire army slowly fades away. including one of those big worm things that almost eats (i think it was) rocket but like. dusts right as it hits the ground and is a really cool shot

and thanos sits down on a rock. and finally is gone. and it's so cathartic

oh joyous day!! they’ve won!! they’ve done it!!! wait holdup where’s tony. i remember what happened to bruce where the fuck is tony

wait

wait hold on

wait hold on a minute

“we did it. we won, mr stark. we won. please, mr stark”

“pep.”

“it’s ok. you can rest. you can rest.”

i have officially passed away and am a sobbing mess. you can’t do this to me. he’s gonna come back. there’s no way. tony stark doesn’t die. no.

this is a fucking funeral. i am going to combust into tears

“proof that tony stark has a heart”

i just wanted him to be able to see morgan grow up.

but him and nat are eating shawarma together in the sky now.

“i’m recording this in case something goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“i love you 3000.”

oh we’re still rolling. oh we don’t even get a minute to process

steve is leaving??? wait holdup we cant lose both. no

“are you sure about this?” “i have to”

“i’m with you til the end of the line” so that was a fucking lie

but steve deserves to do what makes him happy. so i can’t be too mad. actually, nah i aint even mad i’m just sad

bucky looks so dejected. so sad. someone please give him a hug. he desperately needs it

oh hey steve. but you’re old now. hey then, grandpa. how did you. get there

buck and sam go talk to him as they should

“you wanna talk about her?” “no, i don’t think i will”

“how does it feel?” “like it belongs to someone else”

sam has officially inhered the shield, and by extension, his very own bucky barnes. it’s a packaged deal

clint’s got his family back. and they can finally finish their picnic or whatever they were doing at the beginning of the movies

and steve finally got that dance. finally. and he looks so happy. so content.

and that’s about all i remember

i have not watched endgame since i saw it in theaters when it came out because i absolutely do not have the emotional stability to do it again. but damn the disney plus shows have been bangin

i hope you enjoyed the ride, thank you for joining me in my. whatever the fuck this is

[kerfufflewatch]

ah, what’s better than writing siblings being incredibly awkward (and also Lucio’s there)

(with a hint of Gencio)

(which is why Lucio’s there)

--

52.) Accidentally Witnessed kiss +

67.) When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

Genji is in the med bay past visiting hours because he likes it to be empty when he needs his care, because no matter how comfortable he is now with his body, he still feels vulnerable when he has to have someone start pulling bits of metal off. It's simply easier to limit the number of people examining his body, and that is easier done after hours. He’s not sure why the figure sneaking through the window is in the med bay, however.

The healthcare-slash-maintenance portion of his visit is over, but Genji had found an excuse to linger in helping Lúcio gather supplies from the back room. Genji had been a little reluctant, at first, to let anyone other than Angela work with him, but Angela’s so busy nowadays with the care needs of an entire team. Besides, Lúcio had proven himself to a quick study--and rather pleasant company, if Genji’s being truthful. Genji squints into the darkened bay, which is unlit except for the light slanting through the closed office blinds nearby, and finally recognizes the darkened silhouette as Hanzo.

Hanzo, who is quietly, carefully, pulling up a chair next to the bed where McCree lay.

“What in the hell,” Genji says aloud, unthinking. Lúcio immediately snaps his head up and follows Genji’s gaze around the corner.

“What the hell,” he agrees mildly. “Isn’t that your brother? Did he come through the window?”

McCree had been asleep when they passed through earlier, but there’s some shifting of the shadowy lump in the bed now. The bedside lamp snaps on, casting bright light on both of their faces, and Genji can’t help grimacing.

McCree looks awful. Par for the course, all things considered, considering he had been thrown out of a second-story balcony earlier that day and tumbled ten feet across London cobblestone after taking a plasma round to the ribs. He would live, and really had not come all that close to death in the first place, but his injuries were severe enough to worry. Despite Angela’s healing, the right side of his face is still a gruesome canvas of red and purple bruises under scabbing abrasions, and squares of gauze peek out from under his hospital shirt.

Genji glances at Lúcio, who gives him a helpless shrug back. They should reveal themselves and put away their supplies, but whatever moment it is that requires Hanzo to sneak into the bay at night--for McCree, of all people--is a moment that feels too delicate to interrupt.

“Not that I’m complainin’, but what are you doin here so late?” McCree asks, asking the question on everyone’s minds.

“I . . . wanted to see that you were well,” Hanzo says slowly, addressing his folded hands in his lap. “The debriefing took too long, and I was unable to get here before the med bay was closed for the night.”

McCree laughs quietly, weak with exhaustion. “You coulda come by tomorrow,” he says. “I’m not goin’ anywhere for a couple days. Doctor’s orders.”

Hanzo smiles, but it is a bit forced. He asks just how McCree was injured--he was far away when the incident occurred, sniping from a rooftop--and as they talk, Genji feels a deep, growing sense of suspicion.

“So, uh,” Lúcio says awkwardly, quietly. He shifts the box in his hands. “Are they a thing? I didn’t think they were.”

Genji shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I would have known.”

He’s joked, of course, that Hanzo clearly had some deep-seated romantic feelings for McCree that he was too stubborn to even notice, let alone act upon, but he never had anything concrete. This could just be the standard Hanzo level of melodrama while he visits a friend, but Genji isn’t so certain.

That’s not even getting started on McCree’s “is he serious or not” flirting for the past eight months.

“Huh.” Lúcio shifts again. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable, not just tired of the weight in his arms. “I mean, I don’t know your brother all that well, but that seems like a thing.”

“I mean, you are not wrong.”

Lúcio laughs a little, prompting Genji to look back at him. “Sorry,” Lúcio says, “it’s just--it’s really hard to imagine Hanzo being into anyone.”

“No, I don’t blame you,” Genji says. “Even when we were young, he was not very interested in others. I only know of a couple people he showed interest in at all.”

“Now that sounds right.” Lúcio leans around Genji to sneak a better peek at the scene, then back again quickly before he can be caught. It’s decidedly unstealthy, but Genji finds it amusing nonetheless.

“Though to be honest,” he adds after a moment, “I did not expect this out of McCree, either.”

“Really? Don’t get me wrong, he’s cool and all, but there also isn’t a person on this team he hasn’t flirted with.”

Genji laughs quietly. “That is true,” he says. “But he’s . . . He has his own demons. Everyone here does. He’s been very careful, compared to when I knew him when Overwatch was still official.” McCree is still far friendlier than Hanzo and one of the more sociable members of the team overall, but Genji knows the difference. The McCree of ten years ago drank a lot less whiskey, faked a lot fewer smiles, spent so many fewer days locked in his dorm claiming a bad night.

The Recall has been good for them both, he thinks.

“Yeah,” Lúcio says after a moment. “I guess that’s true. He hasn’t told me much, but I get some of it. Guess it’s--”

“Because you were being a fool!” Hanzo snaps suddenly, startling them out of their conversation. They both look back simultaneously to find Hanzo glaring at McCree, leaning forward as though trying to threaten the bedridden man.

“C’mon now,” McCree says, unfazed. Somehow, he looks like he’s smiling in the face in the face of Hanzo’s anger. “Wasn’t nothin’ I don’t do on a regular basis.”

“You were hurt because you were not paying attention,” Hanzo growls.

“I was payin’ plenty of attention. I knew the guy was there when he shot me. He just got the upper hand, which happens sometimes.”

Hanzo looks like he wants to yell again, but abruptly, the fight seems to drain out of him. He slouches in his seat with a heavy exhale. “I am sorry,” he says. “I did not come here to yell at you. I am well aware that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

“What’s got you so bothered? This is hardly the first time I’ve gotten hurt. Sure it won’t be the last, either.”

Hanzo doesn’t answer for a long time, unmoving. Genji finds himself holding his breath. Hanzo lifts a hand, hesitates, starts to take it back, and ultimately rests it on the bed. It’s only by McCree’s reaction--suddenly staring down at the space in disbelief--that Genji realizes Hanzo must have taken his hand.

More words are spoken. Genji can’t hear, but he can guess well enough at the nature of them. “Wow I wish we’d gotten out of here like five seconds faster,” Lúcio says.

Hanzo looks down at their joined hands on the bed, then up again. Then he leans in suddenly, and Genji can’t quite contain the strangled noise he makes when he sees his brother kiss McCree.

“Holy shit,” Lúcio breathes beside him. Genji internally echoes the sentiment.

There is a moment where, despite Hanzo initiating a kiss, McCree does not respond, and Genji slowly tenses. This is Hanzo baring his soul, and his brother might be a grown adult and McCree one of his oldest friends, but if he has to witness McCree push Hanzo away when there is no good reason to do so--

But then McCree softens and kisses back, and Genji lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Genji tries to tear his eyes away, distinctly aware that he is watching his brother and his close friend in a deeply intimate moment, but he’s drawn back when Hanzo suddenly pulls away. “I am sorry,” he says, barely loud enough to be heard. “You are hurt, and this is . . . sudden. Are you certain you--”

“God, Hanzo, for once in your life just shut the fuck up,” McCree breathes before pulling Hanzo back in with a hand around his neck. Genji chokes on a poorly-suppressed laugh, and beside him, Lúcio snorts with amusement. They both look away, realizing they’ve spent too long watching what is happening, Genji in particular aware that he is watching his older brother engaged in a passionate kiss with their mutual friend and teammate.

But . . . awkward as it is, it’s nice to see Hanzo going for something, for once. Allowing himself to have something.

Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to go on much longer than a few more seconds. He soon hears murmuring between the two of them, nothing that he can understand, followed by a chair scraping on the floor. A moment later, the window gently slides open and shut, and the med bay is entirely silent.

“Well then,” Lúcio says mildly. “We just watched McCree and your brother get together. That’s something.”

“It’s something,” Genji agrees.

Lúcio fidgets a little with the box he still folds, looking at the top. “It’s kinda sweet, though,” he says after a moment. “Awkward, but it’s nice that they got something like that, you know? In the middle of all this stuff that we do for Overwatch, that they managed to find something good.” He smiles up at Genji, and Genji’s heart does an odd little stutter at that.

Before he can decide what that means and what to do about it, they are interrupted by the sound of McCree loudly, intentionally, clearing his throat.

“I wasn’t asleep when you went by the first time,” he says. “And I ain’t seen you come out. So I highly recommend you finish your business and get on out of here before I change my mind and tell Hanzo you were there the whole damn time.”

[ardenrabbit]

klance, ily meme, 24?

Absolutely!! Thank you for prompting!

This is for the “I love you” prompts! 24 is “Without really meaning it.”

Lance looked good with a broadsword–not that Lance needed to know Keith thought that. He was getting better with it, too, and he was a much more entertaining training partner than the late castleship’s gladiator.

“You’re too stiff on your feet,” Keith panted, and he advanced another step across the floor of the Atlas training room. They had it to themselves, which was rare and wonderful. They needed the space, too, with how far Keith was chasing Lance back. At the critique, Lance huffed and took a step to the side to attack from another angle. Keith had to adjust, but he did so smoothly.

“Looks like I’m giving you a workout,” Lance purred, as if he wasn’t out of breath too.

Exertion. That was the heat on Keith’s face. He lunged and forced Lance to dodge instead of block.

“Looks like you remember how to move,” Keith quipped back.

Lance grinned wider. His chest heaved to try and catch his breath, and his neck was dotted with sweat, but his eyes were still so bright. Keith hadn’t known that eyes came that blue.

“Oh, I’ll dance circles around you, mullet.”

Keith wished he would.

He swung again, and Lance caught his feint. When their blades stopped against each other, Keith gave him a smile. He felt like a bad teacher who gave dry praise, but he could smile.

Lance was getting better. Not good enough to win, of course, but better.

Keith took that moment to shift his weight, catch Lance’s ankle behind his own, and shove him off balance.

Lance took it well. He held onto his sword without hurting himself with it, and he took a clumsy angle and turned it into a graceful roll back up to his feet.

Lovely.

Keith licked the sweat off his lip and focused on the match. Lance came charging.

Lance had a good, strong attack. Keith was sort of amazed by how strong Lance was, but this lanky boy who made bad jokes could probably lift him with one arm. That wasn’t something to designate any attention to, though, while he was working around Lance with quick parries. He dodged as many strikes as he blocked, and it only frustrated Lance more when his training sword missed Keith so narrowly. Keith just smiled back at Lance’s scowl, and he continued to move only as much as he needed to avoid him.

And then Lance tried the same dirty trick Keith had pulled earlier. He stepped in close, trapped Keith in the angle, and made to throw him. Keith growled and grabbed onto him, and he threw Lance down as he fell. When they both hit the ground, Lance was on his back with Keith kneeling above him, and their swords were still crossed at the hilt.

Lance stared up at him, but he didn’t give an inch. His knuckles stood out where he gripped his sword too tightly, and he pushed back. He could have lifted Keith up if he wanted.

“You’re not gonna let me win, huh?” Lance asked lowly. He was gazing up at him with too easy a smirk for his position. Keith scoffed and bore down to keep Lance’s sword in check.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I love you,” Lance breathed.

Keith didn’t get to answer. His hands had suddenly lost their strength, and when he lost his grip on his sword, Lance’s was still pushing upward. He didn’t hit Keith directly, but he accidentally knocked Keith’s training sword upward to bat him in the face.

Keith fell back on his ass and cupped his nose in his hand. He hadn’t broken it, but it still didn’t feel great. In front of him, Lance barked with laughter and scrambled up on his knees to check on him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Lance was still laughing, and he set one hand on Keith’s forearm.

What the fuck. Holy shit. Those words had been said at him by Lance’s mouth. What the fuck. Keith lowered his hand and looked up at him. His nose was probably bruised and his eyes were probably round, and he was definitely stammering.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry about it.”

What happened now? Should Keith say it back? Was Lance going to kiss him? Was Lance going to explain?

The concern on Lance’s face made way for humor again. He sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair, wearing that handsome grin.

“You should’ve seen your face. Caught you off guard, didn’t it?”

The room turned grey from where Keith sat. He hadn’t been smiling, but he still felt the corners of his mouth sink.

Lance kept putting this pain back in his chest.

“Yeah,” Keith muttered around the lump in his throat. He picked up his training sword and pushed himself to his feet, and he stared at the floor so Lance wouldn’t have to make eye contact with an idiot.

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Superbabs!

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

I’m very slowly trying to finish up NaNoWriMo, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the Superhero/villain AU, so here’s yet another Superhero/villain AU ficlet.  This one features the Stangie babs getting their powers!

Word count: 1452

              Stan grabbed a box out of the pantry.  He squinted at it.

              Did Angie buy this?  I don’t recognize it.  Maybe her mom bought it and gave it to her.

              “Stan!” Lute shouted, clearly irritated.  Stan groaned and put the box back.

              “Look, you can stick around if you want to play with the girls, but you know Angie and I have a no yelling rule.”

              “Yeah, well, you got back from work half an hour ago and since then, I’ve had to put out four fires.  Cut it out.” Stan marched into the living room, where Lute was playing with Danny and Daisy.  At the moment, Daisy was sitting in Lute’s lap while Danny chewed on a toy in the girls’ playpen.  Stan crossed his arms.

              “Lute, two things.  First, I know not to set fires in the house.  I had that drilled into me pretty hard by everyone I’ve ever lived with. Second, I don’t set fires by accident. I’m not some…kid…”  Stan trailed off, remembering what Angie’s doctor had said about elemental abilities being highly heritable.  He stared at Daisy.  Daisy’s wispy brown hair burst into flames.

              “Holy-!” Lute shouted.  A glass of water resting on a bedside table exploded.  The water from the glass flew over and doused Daisy’s hair.  “What the- how?”

              “She’s a pyro,” Stan said.  Daisy giggled, her hair now steaming.  “She’s a pyro!”  The block in Daisy’s hand caught fire.

              “I’m out of water, take her!”  Lute shoved Daisy into Stan’s arms.

              “Your parents aren’t rich, kiddo,” Stan said calmly.  He grabbed the block and extinguished it.  Daisy sniffed loudly.  “Aw, sweetie, don’t get upset just ‘cause I wouldn’t let you destroy your toy,” Stan cooed.  He ruffled Daisy’s hair.  “You did good today.  You’re a pyro, just like your dad!”  Daisy pouted at him.  “Here, here!” Stan held out his hand. Concentrating, he created a burst of white and yellow fire in the shape of a flower.  “Look!  It’s you. It’s a daisy.”  Daisy’s eyes widened.  She grabbed at the fire playfully.  Her hands passed through the flames unharmed, but her onesie caught fire. “Shit.”  Stan grabbed the flaming sleeve, putting it out with his hand.

              “Y’know, pyros make great villains,” Lute said.

              “Nah, this little lady’s gonna be a hero like me.  I can tell.”  Stan nuzzled Daisy’s large nose.  “Isn’t that right, Miss Daisy?”  Daisy giggled.  The front door opened.

              “Hello, hello!” a voice called.

              “Angie, Stan’s tryin’ to get Daisy to be a hero!” Lute shouted.

              “Huh?”  Angie walked into the living room.  She was still in her villainy duds, the spandex splattered with what Stan hoped was not her blood.  “What’s goin’ on?”

              “Lute’s being a tattletale,” Stan said, glaring at his brother-in-law.  “Making him a bad role model for his nieces, by the way.”  Lute rolled his eyes.  “I was just saying that Daisy would be a good hero, because she’s a pyro.”

              “Stan, we don’t know fer sure that-” Angie started.  Daisy burst into flames.  Her eyes widened.  “Oh. That’s- yep.  Daisy’s definitely a pyro.  Could- would ya put her out, darlin’?”

              “Got it.”  Stan stifled the flames covering his daughter.  She grinned at him, her clothes in tatters.  “Uh, I’ll call my mom.  I think she still has the fireproof clothes from when I was a kid.”

              “Sounds like a plan.”  Angie strode over to Stan.  She stroked Daisy’s hair.  “Baby girl, yer like yer daddy, huh?”  Daisy grabbed at Angie’s nose with flaming fingers.

              “Careful,” Stan said.  Angie poked Daisy’s nose.

              “I’m fine.  I’ll set up some breezes ‘round myself to put out any fires ‘fore they can burn me.” She grimaced.  “The crib she’s in is a bit…flammable, though.  Yer mom wouldn’t happen to have any fireproof bedcovers or somethin’, would she?”

              “I’ll ask what she did when I was a kid and setting things on fire every other minutes.”  Stan frowned. “I remember Shermie using a fire extinguisher on me a lot.”

              “That sounds like a good investment,” Lute piped up.  “What with two pyros in yer house and all.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Hey, do ya think Ma still has the power dampeners she used on us when we were kids?”

              “Oh!  She prob’ly does.  I’ll call.”

              “Hang on, you guys had power dampeners?” Stan asked.  Angie and Lute nodded.  “Did your siblings have to use them?”

              “Nah.  Just us,” Angie said.  She grinned. “There were two of us, developing strong elemental powers at the same time.  Ma actually had to quit villainy to keep an eye on us after we made a tornado.”

              “Didn’t yer mom have to deal with the same sort of sit’ation?” Lute asked.

              “Ford’s powers didn’t manifest until we were teenagers.  I was the only one with powers as a toddler.”  Stan’s eyes widened.  “Shit.  We’re gonna have two superpowered toddlers.  One of them sets things on fire.”

              “Yep.”  Lute patted Stan on the back.  He headed toward the front door, whistling merrily.  “Enjoy.”

----- 

              A cry came over the baby monitor.  Angie let out a wordless grumble.

              “Don’t worry, babe, I’m on it,” Stan said, his voice barely less bleary than hers.  Angie smiled as he kissed her forehead.  After he got out of bed, she sprawled across the rest of the mattress, relishing the residual warmth from his body heat.  She had just begun to doze off again when the peace was shattered by a shout from downstairs.

              “Ouch!  Fuck! Goddamm- what the hell?”  Angie jumped out of bed and literally flew downstairs, enlisting breezes to keep her aloft.  She stopped at the doorway of the nursery.  Her jaw dropped.

              “What in tarnation?” she breathed.  The nursery was coated in a thin layer of frost.  Stan sat on the floor, rubbing himself ruefully.  Angie helped him up.

              “Careful,” he said.  “Somehow the floor turned into a damn ice rink.”  Angie knelt to examine the wooden floor.  Like Stan had said, it was covered in ice.  “Who did this?  Was it one of your brothers?”

              “Nah.  The only one who could is Harper, and he’s in Los Angeles.”  Angie frowned.  “Hang on. Which one was crying?”

              “Uh, I think it was Daisy.”  Stan glanced over at Daisy’s crib.  Daisy was still fast asleep.  “Nope. Not her.  So it had to have been Danny.”

              “Yes, by process of elimination,” Angie said dryly.  Stan walked over to Danny’s crib, his bare feet melting the ice on the floor.  “Careful not to burn the wood, darlin’.”

              “I know.  Aw, shit.” Stan picked Danny out of her crib. “Princess, you okay?”

              “What’s wrong?”  Angie joined Stan by Danny’s crib, floating an inch off the floor to avoid slipping and falling.

              “She’s covered in ice,” Stan said.  Angie gasped softly.  Snowflakes stuck to Danny’s eyelashes and eyebrows, while her caramel-colored hair was full of icicles.  Stan ran his fingers through her hair, melting the ice.

              “Danica, baby,” Angie cooed, stroking her daughter’s cheek.  She frowned.  “She’s not actin’ upset.”

              “She was crying earlier.”

              “She’s not cryin’ now.  And she’s been clingy lately.  She might have just wanted attention,” Angie said.  Stan stared at Angie.

              “What are you saying?”

              “Maybe it wasn’t Harper who did this to the nursery.  Maybe it was Danny.  I mean, my grannie used to make it snow on Christmas.”

              “Goddammit,” Stan muttered.  “A hydro. Lute’s gonna be so smug about it.”

              “No, my grannie wasn’t hydrokinetic.  She had cryokinesis.  Controllin’ ice and snow and cold.”  Angie stroked Danny’s cheek again.  “It’s a pretty rare power.  Ya almost never see it outside of specific families.”

              “Well, I knew she was special,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.

              “Yer right ‘bout that.”  She sighed. “Dang it, I was really hopin’ Danny would get my powers, since Daisy got yours.”

              “Next time.”

              “Next time?”  Angie raised an eyebrow at Stan.  “Darlin’, the girls ain’t even two.  We just got married a couple months ago.”

              “Hey, I need a son.”

              “Uh-huh.  Sure.”

              “I need to name someone Stan Jr.”

              “Uh-huh.  Whatever ya say.”  Angie kissed Danny’s forehead.  “I’m goin’ to go back to sleep.”  She kissed Stan on the cheek and glided out of the room.

              “That’s not a no!” Stan called after her.  He turned back to Danny.  “That wasn’t a no.  You and Daisy will end up with a little brother, I promise.”  Danny grinned.  She patted his face.  Stan let out a small gasp as frost built up on his skin.  “Damn, kid, you’re really giving new meaning to the term ‘cold hands’, huh.”  He let his skin warm up.  Danny began to cry.  “Shit.” He bounced her, but the crying didn’t die down.  “All right, all right.  Let’s go get something for you to freeze.  Something that isn’t my face.”

[teruthecreator]

Who She Wants to Be

ummmmmm, so this was supposed to be a short lil’ thing based on @tazdelightful‘s blupjeans baby that i’ve had many a thought about because i needed a reason to start writing again

buuuuuuut then i made it 11 pages long and oops! pobody’s nerfect i guess!! (theres a brief mention of drugs/drug use, but its pot and its also like literally two lines but just thought id mention) 

She was born in a ring of fire. Ravens croaked and cawed, perched diligently all around the Raven Queen’s chamber, watching with beady eyes as she was birthed. Blessed by two powerful goddesses upon birth, she opened her eyes to a shadowy room and the teary-eyed faces of her mother and father. Her mother gasped at the sight, while her father could barely contain the tears that were flowing in streams down his face. A dark mass, looming past those faces, seemed to radiate a loving warmth from its being as it addressed the two:

“She is beautiful,” Her parents nodded in response, too overwhelmed to produce a verbal response.

“She’s our beautiful Marlena,” her father whispered hoarsely, and then a strange mass passed over her line of sight as he moved to cup her face.

She was born in a ring of fire, in the presence of two powerful goddesses, in the realm of the Raven Queen.

And all Marlena Bluejeans could do, in that exact moment following her birth, was scream as loud as humanly possible.

                                                             ---

At age four and a half (the half was extremely important), Marlena decided she only wanted to wear polka dotted corduroy pants, and only polka dotted corduroy pants.

“Lena, sweetie, please come back!” Her father could be heard shouting down the hall as Marlena races to the steps, giggling all the while. She reaches the stairs and clumsily bounds down them to the first floor, her father’s worried voice echoing through the large home. On the first floor, she makes a mad dash to the kitchen, where her mother was making lunch.

Upon arrival, Marlena immediately ducks behind her mother’s legs, still giggling like a madwoman. Her mother pauses her vicious stirring of something to peer at her runt of a daughter, a mischievous smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

“What’s goin’ on, lil’ stinker?” she asks, just as her husband rounds the corner and skids to halt. Marlena giggles even more as her father takes two steps into the kitchen, then leans over the island counter to desperately catch his breath. Not even her mother can hold in her laughter, as she lets out a snort and asks, “You good, Bear?”

He nods his head into the counter, taking a couple deep breaths before lifting his body off of the counter and presenting the lilac purple t-shirt he’s been clutching in his hands.

“Shirt. Please. Wear.” He pants, which prompts his wife to finally get a proper look at her daughter. And, just as her husband implied, she was most certainly not wearing a shirt. Her favorite pair of purple-and-pink polka dotted corduroy pants, yes, but definitely not a shirt.

Marlena giggles some more as her mother shakes her head.

“We’re not goin’ out anywhere, babe, just let her wear the pants.” She says, taking the few steps to reach her husband and kiss him on the cheek. “Let her be rogue for the short time she can be.”

“B-But, honey, she needs a shirt--”

“And you need a new pair of work pants because, if last I checked, somebody ‘accidentally’ burned a hole in his old pair. But you don’t see me dragging your ass out to the store any time soon, huh?” Her husband considers this, face tinted with an embarrassed blush, before conceding.

“Alright, alright,” he says, causing both mother and daughter to cheer. He smiles and shakes his head, scooping up Marlena and pointing a playfully-strict finger at her. “But when we go to dinner with Uncle Taako and Uncle Kravitz tomorrow, you are wearing a shirt.”

Marlena giggles and nods her head, though she knows well enough that her father will give up again; just like he’s done countless times before.

                                                              ---

At age eight, Marlena learns Magic Missile. Which is, admittedly, pretty great; figuring no one taught her Magic Missile. But it’s also pretty bad because that means no one is expecting her to know Magic Missile, which makes them finding out even more of a catastrophe.

“Pshaw, psh psh pew! Take that!” Marlena cries out from the living room of her uncles’ apartment, playing pretend-magic with her Uncle Taako’s Krebstar. She bounds over the plush couch and does a tuck-and-roll as she avoids shots from her invisible assailants.

Nearly ten feet away, in the kitchen, her Uncle Kravitz worries.

“Love, is it really safe for her to be playing with your magical focus?” he says, chopping a head of iceberg lettuce with practiced ease. “What if she gets hurt?”

Taako pushaws at his husband’s remark, cracking some black pepper into the sauce he’s been working on. “The most that kid can do with that thing is let off a few sparks. And if it keeps her busy, then fine by me. I only have so much energy to keep up with a direct spawn of Lup’s energy and cook a baller dinner at the same time.” Kravitz chuckles under his breath, careful to keep his knowledge of Taako’s legitimate love and adoration of his niece to himself. He knows for a fact that that girl could ask for anything in the entire multiverse, and Taako would find a way to give her it and then some.

“As long as you’re certain--” Kravitz’s sentence is cut off by a loud exclamation of “ABRA-KA-FLIP-YOU!” before an even louder boom startles the pair. Taako’s already five feet ahead of Kravitz before he can even turn and notice the charred remains of a few priceless paintings on the wall of their living room, as well as the hole burned clean through the wall itself.

And, standing a couple of steps away from the wreckage, is the culprit; Marlena, looking both triumphant and terrified, clutching the Krebstar in a battle stance.

Both adults gape at the scene before them, unable to parse what exactly happened, when Marlena drops the Krebstar and takes a giant step backward.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” she says as tears begin to build in her eyes. Before they have the chance to fall, though, her uncle lets out a wheeze of laughter.

“Holy shit this is fucking incredible,” Taako wheezes out as he waves a hand over the wreckage, mending the wall and extinguishing the flames in a matter of seconds. “Bubbeleh, you do not need to apologize for some sick-ass casting.” This seems to both confuse Marlena and alarm Kravitz.

“Taako, she just burned a hole through our wall.” Kravitz says, taking a step toward his husband. “Th-This is an obvious sign of that unkempt magical energy Barry kept saying he was detecting on her as an infant. We need to do something about that.” Taako looks back to his husband and rolls his eyes, walking the short distance to his forgotten focus and hefting it over his shoulder.

“Yeah, what we’re gonna do is invest in some targets and get this girl her own wand.” he says as he ruffles Marlena’s hair. “Ch’girl got some crazy skills already and we haven’t even taught her anything.” He looks down to address his niece with a lazy grin. “But starting tomorrow we’re gonna be holding Magic Day at your momma’s house.”

Marlena’s eyes light up, and she lets out a gleeful noise as she hugs her uncle. Taako instinctively hoists her up into his free arm to hug her properly, and Kravitz sighs fondly at the two. Before Taako can notice, though, Kravitz makes his way back to the kitchen; where a forgotten dinner needs to be finished, and a Stone of Farspeech awaits a call to his coworkers.

                                                                ---

At age twelve, Marlena sits her parents down for a talk.

“You want to do what now?” Her mother asks skeptically, setting her morning cup of coffee on the table.

“I want to stay with traditional schooling.” Marlena repeats, her tone serious and unflinching even as both her parents eye her with concern and bafflement.

“But, sweetie, just last week you were complaining about those boys who keep asking you about your mother! Wouldn’t homeschooling fix that?” Her father says, hands folded in the way he does when he’s too nervous to figure out what to do with them.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t bother me enough to make me want to leave all my friends!” Marlena says.

“But it’s not like they’re giving you any new information.” Her mother adds with an accusing jab of her finger. “I’ve seen you sneaking around with Ango’s college textbooks; I know you know more than what you’re letting on! And we’re already teaching you magic, so what’s the big deal about us teaching you everything else?”

“You would learn at your own pace, and at your own leisure,” her father continues. “And just because it’s called ‘homeschooling’ doesn’t mean we’re going to force you to stay here. The rest of the family are all on-board with taking you in for weeks at a time to teach you their own tricks of the trade. Uncle Taako’s already called dibs on you for the next month!”

“You could graduate in, like, a year; just like your cousin! Doesn’t that sound great?” Her mother finishes with an enthusiastic grin, much like the one her father is also sporting. All the joy they seem to have about this idea is cut short when Marlena slams her hand down on the table.

“No!” She exclaims, her half-elf ears twitching slightly in frustration. “Because what you don’t get is that I don’t want to graduate in a year!” This causes her parents to both freeze, glancing nervously back at one another to see what the other might say. But Marlena gives them no time to say anything when she stands up and gestures angrily at nothing.

“Look, I get it. You guys both want what’s best for me, you love me, yadda yadda. But I’m not like my cousin. I don’t have a family I’m desperately trying to avoid because of personal reasons, and I don’t have a career I’m desperately trying to pursue. I’m just a kid who wants to do kid things like play kickball in Gym and write essays on topics I think are boring! You just don’t understand that I hide my knowledge from you guys because I want you to keep me in school!”

“It’s hard being me! Every other week I’m getting kidnapped by necromancers looking to use me; if I sneeze too hard sometimes I let out a bolt of lightning because I still don’t have full control of my magic; and people publish articles about me if I decide to wear the same jacket two days in a row! I just wanna be like every other middle schooler and go to school! And play soccer with friends after class! And eat Cheese Wiz straight from the can on a dare, even though I know it’ll make me puke! I just. Want. A normal life.”

She’s panting by the time she finishes, and there are angry tears building in the corners of her eyes. But she’s said what she had to say, and so she plops back down in her chair and holds her breath for a response.

“We…” Her mother mutters, eyes still wide and mouth slightly agape. “I…”

“Aw, beans,” her father says as he leans over to hug his daughter. “Lena, we didn’t know.”

“Well, we did--we did know all that other stuff--about the kidnapping and the jacket thing--but uh, we didn’t, uh. We didn’t realize how you felt.” Her mother fumbles for the right words, standing to also hug her daughter. “We’re sorry we hurt you, Len-Len…”

“You didn’t--” Marlena sniffles. “You didn’t hurt me. I just...I didn’t tell you. It’s my fault…” Her father shakes his head and reaches around to pet her hair.

“No blame game, missy. If anyone is at fault for this, it’s us,” he says sternly. “We’re your parents, and we should know when our daughter’s upset.” His wife nods as she wedges herself into the hug.

“Yeah, he’s right.” she adds with a reassuring squeeze of Marlena’s hand. “So the next time you feel something this strongly, you come and tell us. Because we’re still, uh, sorta new at this; and we don’t always catch when something’s bothering you.”

“Y-You’re not mad, though?” Marlena asks, squished between her parents in an awkward tangle of bodies and limbs. Her mother guffaws.

“Mad? Bullshit! I would’ve felt worse if we had gone through in pulling you out of school!” She pulls away from the hug to look her daughter in the eye. “Sweetie, we love you. We want what you want.”

“Unless that ‘want’ involves drugs, alcohol, crime, necromancy, et cetra.” Her husband adds.

“Yeah, except that. But if it’s something like school,” she rolls her eyes. “Go buck wild, sweetcheeks. Go play soccer out back. Play pranks on the shitty subs. Eat a bug. We just want you to be happy.” Both of Marlena’s parents lean in to kiss her on the forehead, causing Marlena to gag and push them away with a laugh. The three of them share in this moment for a while before the morning settles into its usual routine.

About an hour after the fact, Marlena clears her throat to catch the attention of her parents.

“Uh, I know we just got done with the whole ‘I wanna stay in school’ thing. But uh, if Uncle Taako still has the offer open…” She trails off, looking nervously around the room. Her mother laughs and pulls out her Stone of Farspeech.

“I’m sure he can re-clear his schedule.”

                                                             ---

At sixteen, Marlena gets caught redhanded at the Spring Formal.

“It’s not what you think!” Marlena quickly exclaims, even though it is exactly what it seems. If this was her mother, it would all be over. Guns ablazing; fury absolute; no survivors. If it were her father, then it would be weird. A lot of awkward coughs, little to no eye contact, and a very stiff conversation to follow at home.

But, somehow, Marlena got the worst out of any of these options; her Uncle Merle.

“Uh-huh, suuuuure,” he says, surveying the scene before him. “It sure doesn’t look like ya were just mackin’ on this young lady, riiight.” He turns his attention to the nervous girl standing beside Marlena. “And what’s yer name, hun?”

“U-Uhhhh,” she stutters, cheeks a fiery red. “Isabelle.” Merle nods his head and runs a hand through his crunchy beard.

“Well, Isabelle, why dontcha just run on back inside the cafeteria so me and my niece can have a chat, alright?” Isabelle cannot nod fast enough, and she gives Marlena one final glance before racing down the darkened hallway and back to the dance.

The silence left behind by Isabelle’s exit is deafening, and Marlena looks far too wired to try and explain what Merle just waddled into. Merle, on his end, looks like he has all the time in the world to address the fact that he just caught his niece kissing someone at a high school dance.

“Sooooo, I’m guessin’ I don’t need to give you a talk ‘bout the birds and bees.” Merle starts off, causing Marlena to immediately shake her head. “Figured. But, uh, that girl. She, uhhhhhh, you two dating?” Marlena looks around for a couple of seconds, before looking at her heel-clad feet and nodding her head. “Figured that, too. How long?”

There’s a shift in the air around them before Marlena mutters, “Four months,” and then promptly slaps a hand over her mouth. Merle chuckles and shakes his head.

“You been around me for how long, kid, and you didn’t think I’d try an’ Zone of Truth ya?”

“I’m not exactly thinking right now, okay!?” Marlena blurts out. “I’m kind of experiencing my Worst Case Scenario at the moment, so if you could excuse my lack of oversight on you casting the same damn spell for the millionth time that would be great!” She slaps a hand over her mouth again, then drops it when Merle laughs some more.

“Geez, somebody’s feisty tonight…” Merle looks around, then shakes his head. “Come on, this is no place for a talk this.”

And then, just like that; they’re in a simple office with a long table, surrounded by cushy office chairs, overlooking a sunset-filled sky.

Marlena rolls her eyes.

“Parley. Really?” She looks at him with an uninterested stare. Merle huffs at her.

“What? I’ll have you know I’ve had some great conversations in here!”

“Yeah, and most of them ended in you dying…” Marlena points out as she walks to the table and plops down in one of the chairs. Merle laughs again and sits across from her, a chess board suddenly appearing between them.

“Hopefully this one won’t,” he gestures to the board, a silent offer that is met with a silent confirmation. He moves his first piece and leans back in his chair.

“So. Four months is a long time to go without introducing her to the family.” Merle says, watching Marlena tense before she moves a pawn. “You had any plans on having her meet us orrrr….”

“I did.” she mutters, moving another piece. “That all kind of just got ruined, though, and she’s probably never going to talk to me again, so that’s something.”

“Why do you think that?” Merle moves a bishop.

“Because people have this ill-conceived notion that you’re all these big, intimidating people; and she’s gonna get scared that you’re all going to come after her, or somethin’...” she moves another pawn.

“That’s kind of a stupid thought,”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend!” Merle says as he captures one of Marlena’s pawns. “Listen, I may be no ‘romance expert’, but four months is a long time for relationships, at your age. If she wasn’t scared off by the thought of your family being the Seven Birds before, then I don’t think that’s suddenly going to change because one of them caught you two swappin’ spit in the Music hallway.”

“Gross,” Marlena mutters as she captures Merle’s knight.

“Listen, love is love. Once you love somebody, it takes a lot to change your mind about that.” Merle continues as he moves his rook. “Look, if Dav still hasn’t left me after alla my baggage, then I think there’s plenty of hope for you and your girl.” He captures Marlena’s king in one fell swoop and sits back again. “Now, I’m not saying you two are necessarily ‘in love’; but by the way she was lookin’ at you before she split, I think it’s pretty damn close. She wouldn’t let that go because of something dumb like this.”

Marlena stares at the board, a little dumbfounded, before letting out a little chuckle of her own.

“I guess you’re right…” She says, fiddling with her queen. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Merle asks with a quirked brow. Marlena’s ears turn a little pink.

“It’s just I’m...afraid. Of what Mom and Dad will think.” At that, Merle snorts.

“Honey, you got several uncles and aunts who are in the LGBT community; and so are your own damn parents. No one’s gonna freak out at you liking girls.” Marlena huffs and shakes her head.

“Not about that!” She replies, her voice cracking. “About...the time…”

“About the fact that you waited four months to tell them you have a girlfriend?” Merle says, to which she nods. Merle pauses for a minute, running his soulwood hand through his beard a few times, before having an idea. “Well, how about I don’t tell anybody about this little fiasco, as long as you promise me that you’ll bring Isabelle to the next family dinner?” Marlena looks up at Merle in shock. “That way it gives you a coupla weeks to figure out how you wanna go about it. That sound good?”

“Y-Yes!” She blurts, this time without any magical prompting. “You got a deal!” She reaches over the table to seal the deal with a handshake, to which Merle complies. “And, uh, thanks. I guess. For being cool about this.”

Merle hops off the chair and shrugs.

“Eh, that’s what makes me the ‘Chill Uncle”. Now let’s get you back to the dance, so your principal doesn’t think I snuck off the property to smoke some pot.”

And in another blink of an eye, they were back in that dark hallway. Marlena smiles at Merle one last time before running off to meet up with her girlfriend, leaving Merle to linger in the hallway.

“Ah, young love.” He sighs wistfully, watching Marlena’s figure disappear around a corner. He stands there for about another two minutes before shrugging and reaching into his pocket.

“Well, guess no one’ll miss Ol’ Merle tonight.” He says, waddling towards the back entrance, joint in hand.

                                                              ---

At age eighteen, Marlena graduated second in her class. She claimed it was because of a class she struggled with her Junior year, but her closest circle of friends know it’s primarily because she didn’t want to seem like she was handed the title of valedictorian. And if that left her girlfriend of two years at the very top, then that was only a bonus.

At graduation, Marlena doesn’t look for her family in the seats, because she can hear them several miles away.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!!!” Her mother screams from her seat, much to the dismay of the security guard standing a mere two feet away. “HI BABY!!!! WE LOVE YOU!!!” Not even her father, who is the more reserved of the two, is holding back his enthusiasm; screaming his fair share of positive words and firing off a few harmless sparks of magic.

Marlena rolls her eyes with a fond grin as she takes her seat in her row. Isabelle is beside her, reaching out to take her hand and give it a good squeeze. Marlena looks at her and gestures with her head back toward the crowd.

“If anybody asks, they aren’t my family.” She says, earning a small chuckle from her girlfriend.

“Then whose dinner did I crash last weekend?” Isabelle asks, earning herself her own giggle. The ceremony cuts their banter short as their principal addresses the crowd. After a performance from the Senior Choir, Marlena gets up to deliver her speech to the crowd. Isabelle shoots her a thumbs up as she reaches the stage, and Marlena smiles as she makes it to the podium. She’s never been one for public speaking, but this speech has been rehearsed enough times to where she could recite it without the paper in front of her.

“I was born in a ring of fire.” She begins, her voice echoing down the rows of families. “Ravens stood attentive around the room when I was born, and I was blessed by the powers of both the Raven Queen and Istus. When I was born, it has been said that both life and death stood at a perfect balance. And then, I screamed.”

“I screamed and screamed, and even when my mother tried to comfort me, I still screamed. My father told me that I screamed for an entire day, and it took being place in my crib to get me to stop. Now, I don’t know what this means entirely, but I can assume it means what I’ve always thought of myself: that I’m not special. I’m not special because, at the end of the day, I screamed like every other baby that’s ever been born does. I’m not special because I still slept in a crib, and I still wore diapers, and I still crapped my pants.”

“So when the world started telling me I was special, I was confused. Who decided I was special? It certainly wasn’t me; nor was it my parents. I was a kid, like every other kid on the planet. And I grew up, just like everyone else does. Now I’m graduating, just like every other kid sitting in these seats in front of me. I’m no different than your child, or anyone else’s child.”

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is: make yourself who you want to be. Set your own goals; follow your own path. Don’t let what others try and tell you be what you are if that’s not how you feel. Be the person you want to be. And if that person goes off to college, then that’s great. If not, then that’s great too. Because society doesn’t have the right to decide who you get to be. The only person who gets to decide that is you.”

“I was born in a ring of fire, in the deepest part of the Astral Plane, surrounded by goddesses with immeasurable amounts of power. But I still screamed, just like every other baby did when they were born.”

Her speech was met with thunderous applause, and a lot of erratic cheering from her family members. And, as she went back to her seat and watched the first solo performance of the ceremony, she smiled to herself.

Her name is Marlena Bluejeans, and she is exactly who she wants to be.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

Flight pt. 1

Hey guys, so my husband and I flew into Berlin yesterday and the airport was a nightmare. So while Ol sleeps off a bit of a hangover, I took myself out for coffee and imagined Mickey and Ian trying to navigate an airport together :) Please feel free to share any thoughts or prompts for the next chapter - thanks for reading as always, Han xx

“Well this fuckin’ sucks.”

“Can you just stop fussing for two minutes, please?”

Ian shot Mickey a look that he usually reserved for Yevgeny when he was on the verge of a tantrum. Mickey raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes with an expression that clearly said ‘Well you fuckin’ brought me here’.

“Look, the security check is always the worst bit…”

“Yeah, if you’re a god damned terrorist which we’re NOT!”

The last word lifted in a shout at the old black security guard stood by the body scanners. The guard frowned at Mickey but then rolled his eyes and mercifully decided to ignore him.

“Would you stop?”

Ian hissed, jerking Mickey round to face him. Mickey’s cheek distorted as he pushed his tongue into it and Ian sighed and allowed a smile to touch the tight line of his compressed lips.

“What’s the matter? Is it really the wait or are you worried about flying?”

“Course I’m worried about fuckin’ flying! You put a load of assholes in a tin can that is powered on fire and …”

“What?”

Ian laughed and Mickey spread his hands in front of him with a gesture of impatience

“Fuckin’ fire, Ian.”

“They don’t … wait … Why do you think they run on fire?”

“Flames shoot out the back of them when they take off, I’ve seen it on TV. It’s fuckin’ crazy.”

Mickey murmured absently as he peered around the woman in front of him and scowled at someone at the very front of the queue who was rummaging for something in their suitcase, a small pile of clothes and shoes beside them.

“Oh sure, by all means start unpacking your shit here, that oughta speed things up real well.”

“Sir, don’t yell at the other passengers.”

The security guard sounded tired and Ian kind of felt for the guy but Mickey, always happy to spell shit out for people, pointed his passport at him like a gun and snapped

“Then you fuckin’ do it, numbnuts. We all got flights to catch and personally I wouldn’t mind missing mine and goin’ home but pretty sure all these other people want to get fuckin’ movin’.”

The security guard stepped forward angrily, ready for a confrontation and Ian gripped Mickey’s arm hard

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

He breathed, not bothering to look down at his boyfriend. Mickey cleared his throat in a manner that suggested Ian remove his hand immediately but Ian retained his grip and smiled sweetly at the guard

“Sorry, nervous flier. But uh, he does kind of have a point. Think you could maybe get that guy to let someone who’s ready go ahead of him?”

The crowd around them made a low murmur of agreement and the guard, pooched his lower lip out as he considered his options with regard to the two young men before him. It almost certainly wasn’t worth the headache of trying to take on the small one and the bigger one had raised a fairly decent point …

“I’ll see what I can do, but you gotta watch your tone, son.”

Mickey returned the open eyed stare but remained silent much to Ian’s relief.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Ian smiled and watched the guards retreating back for a moment before letting go of his boyfriends arm.

“OK, you have GOT to calm down. You’re going to end up getting frisked or something.”

“I ain’t got nothing to hide. You told me I couldn’t bring shit. Fuckin’ insisted as I recall.”

The accusation in his tone was evident and Ian fought back a smile

“I like having you around and orange is not your colour.”

“Yeah well, it’s fine. We’re goin’ to California not Colombia. Man, the shit I could have brought back if ...”

“Shhh.”

Ian made a shushing gesture with his hands and Mickey rolled his eyes impatiently.

“Still say we could have drove there.”

“Well yeah if you wanted to spend weeks on the road not the beach.”

Mickey grinned at that and nodded

“I am lookin’ forward to the beach. Sand between my toes, Hawaiian shirts and watchin’ your ginger ass burn up like a mother fucker.”

“I bought sun-screen. It’s factor fifty.”

Ian sounded rather proud of this and Mickey put an arm around his waist and squeezed briefly

“It could be factor one thousand, firecrotch. Your people just ain’t made for the sun.”

*

Once they finally made it through security, Ian led them down the maze of corridors that marked the way to their boarding gate. Mickey had wanted to stop at the duty free and get a bottle of vodka but Ian had fibbed and told him they really didn’t have time. He hated being dishonest with Mickey but the closer they got to the flight time, the more twitchy his boyfriend was getting and Ian knew that adding hard liquor to his nerves was not going to end well.

“Holy fuck. Those things are huge!”

Mickey pressed his face to the glass wall overlooking the taxiway, his hands splayed against it like a kid.  

“Yeah. Come on.”

“Which one is ours?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it the blue one?”

“Maybe.”

“It better not but that fuckin’ white one over there. Thing looks old as shit.”

“Nah, that one belongs to Air Italia. Ours is American Airlines”

“Well that thing ain’t makin’ it all the way back to Italy. They’ll have to tow it or tie it to the top of a bigger plane or something”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh as he took a firm grip on Mickey’s collar and gently steered him away from the window.

*

There was another queue to get onto the actual plane and Ian glanced anxiously down at Mickey who was rocking up on the balls of his feet to try to see the front of the line.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m kinda excited actually. Sort of feels like when you’re runnin’ from the cops and you’re scared as shit cause you got a fuck ton of coke strapped to your chest but also you’re lovin’ it cause they’re dumb, fat fucks and you know you got a pretty good chance of out running ‘em. You know? Feels like that.”

By Mickey’s usual standards, that was a monologue worthy of an Oscar. Ian nodded as if he knew exactly what he meant and pressed a kiss to the top of his boyfriends head. The woman in front of them was looking around worriedly, clutching her purse to her side a little more tightly than she had been. Mickey didn’t notice but Ian did and stuck his chin out pugnaciously, giving her his best ‘angelic thug’ smile and put his arm protectively around Mickey’s shoulders.

She blushed and turned back around quickly. Ian kissed Mickey again and squeezed his shoulder, feeling a rush of protective love for his wild, brash and wonderful man. Mickey looked up at him, surprised and then reached up and pulled Ian down for a proper kiss.  

“Maybe this flying thing isn’t so bad, huh?”

He smiled as they broke away. The steward at the front of the line listened to something on her headset and then beckoned the first passenger and opened the line. Boarding had begun.

*

“FUCK! Jesus Christ, Ian. What was that?”

“It’s the engines starting.”

Ian tried to free his hand from the death grip Mickey had on it but the tattooed fingers were clamped tight around his own and refusing to budge. Mickey’s eyes were wide with alarm and his chest was rising and falling in rapid breaths.

“Hey, it’s fine. Look, no one else is worried. We’re fine.”

“All these fuckers must have a death wish. Shit. This sucks. This fuckin’ sucks.”

Mickey tucked his chin onto his chest and pressed his lips tightly together, eyebrows furrowed in a stern frown.

“You want a drink?”

“I want a smoke.”

“You can’t smoke on the plane.”

Mickey’s head shot up and he stared at Ian in open horror

“The fuck I can’t!”

“It’s illegal.”

“So is most of the shit I do.”

Mickey quipped and leant across Ian to catch the sleeve of one of the female stewards walking down the aisle, his most charming smile lighting his face

“Excuse me, miss. Can I get a smoke?”

“No, I’m sorry sir. There is a strict no smoking policy on all flights.”

Mickey’s face dropped and he bit his lip hard

“Shit. OK, you got booze though right?”

“Yes, the drinks cart will come around just as soon as …”

“I’m gonna need something now.”

Mickey interrupted her and she looked down at him sympathetically

“Not a great flyer?”

“No.”

“He’ll be fine. It’s his first time.”

Ian carefully removed Mickey’s grip on the woman and patted the back of his hand reassuringly

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not fuckin’ here. Listen, lady, I don’t wanna be an asshole but if you don’t want me smokin’ you have got to get me a drink and I mean, like, now. Beer, vodka, whisky … anything with a percentage.”

The steward blinked, taken aback and then nodded and held up one finger and winked at him.

“Thank you. Jesus.”

Mickey sat back and closed his eyes.

“Think of the beach, Mick. Think of the ocean!”

Ian smiled hopefully and rubbed Mickey’s leg in encouragement. The reply was characteristically short and informative.

“I’m thinkin’ of drowning you in it for makin’ me do this.”

“Fair enough.”

Ian kissed his cheek and settled back against his seat wondering how Mickey was going to cope with take-off and hoping that the drink would arrive quickly.  

[that1nkyone]

1nky Liveblogs The Suffering Game: Chapter 5

Current Status: WHO ARE YOU ROBEY DUDE??

“Magnus, what does it mean to be a hero?”

Magnus is gonna have the True Sight for the whole hour. This is gonna throw a spanner in Griffin’s narrative I bet.

“A hero is someone who acts without thinking.” to “A hero is someone who acts when it matters.” A good answer, Magnus.

Oh, the game’s over.

Aaand the marionette is revealed.

It’s still a creepy marionette who’s still creepy-laughing.

“Let’s call it a draw.” “Let’s move on, this has gotten weird even for us.” ME TOO

oh shit their opponents in the last round of Trust or Forsake.

They played the board game.

OH NO. OH NO IT’S ROWAN AND ANTONIA (screw Sterling)

Ohhh, he’s aged. And injured. and being comforted by Antonia. Nevermind, don’t screw over Sterling. Oh god.

she’s blind?

Rowan got drained of vitality??

oh g o d

oh g o  d

“Why?”

“I point at Taako.” YEAH PRETTY MUCH.

Taako doesn’t feel great physically - or mentally about this. “I’m over this.”

Magnus is being worn down emotionally holy fuck.

Merle’s okay. Sorta.

NO WE DON’T NEED A BONUS ROUND

A BONUS ROUND IS THE REASON WHY CAM GOT TRAPPED?

The bonus round isn’t optional, great.

And now the marionettes are inactive. That is super creepy.

They’re articulate.

MAGNUS TOOK A FUCKING ARM.

“Then I slap the laughing marionette with the arm” please make it stop.

Next room! 

Escape game, healing game and recovering game.

... ohh, Cam did the escape game. That’s why that option vanished.

... Huh. He was betrayed.

...

‘older lady’

DIRECTOR??

LUCRETIA????

I WAS

SHE WAS SUSS BUT

oh god don’t lie about why they’re there. oh god

... how long has Cam been there? The trio been working for the BoB for how long??

... okay, we’re doing the Bonus round. Choosing Healing Game.

“Taako is suddenly hit with a deep existential dread.” YEAH, UH, BE SUPER CAUTIOUS.

What does True Sight reveal?

Huh. Is the suffering literally forming everything?

... oooh this sounds... bad.

“balance out your physical state of being.”

THEY’LL ONLY RECEIVE HALF THE VITALITY OF THE HITPOINTS?

Merle’s sending 40 HP. And it’s 20 HP in total...

“Man, that HP count is really low.”

“IS IT??? IS IT, GRIFFIN???”

Magnus is being stingy with his HP which is... kinda fair.

thank you for healing that skinned knee, Magnus.

The Red Robe’s been following after. Guess he feeds on suffering, too.

And Merle isn’t looking so good.

and Magnus has two skinned knees.

... the black smoke is just following them around from room to room, I guess? I might not be interpreting that right.

oh no it’s the wheel of sacrifice, again.

Edward just skips the introduction, ahaha.

What’re they gonna sacrifice?

THAT’S RIGHT THEY GOTTA SACRIFICE FOUR SPINS

... it lands on Swords?

“You will lose a fight. You will have a fight taken from you.”

... interesting. What exactly does that mean?

A battle he fought won’t exist.

HE’S TAKING A PENALTY??

OOOOH.

Yeah Magnus wouldn’t really want to give up any past fights.

“You get to be in Wonderland even longer!” god damn it

Merle spins!

... i-it landed on ‘Mind.’

OH SHIT. HE’LL LOSE THE MEMORIES OF THE BIRTH OF HIS CHILDREN.

“MERLE’S GOT KIDS??”

“WOW, MERLE’S A DEADBEAT DAD.”

oh right they didn’t know about his kids. He’s taking penalty too, I guess.

Taako spins - and he gets ‘Hand.’

Oooh, he’ll lose some dexterity.

Aaand he’s cool with this.

He trips immediately.

Magnus is spinning a second time.

... oh no, he’s landed on Body. This is gonna be bad.

... and he accepts this.

oh shit.

Well, he is a tank, but I’m still worried.

oh shit he’s gonna have to spin more. There’s Luck.

... oh the next is Mind.

...

wait

no

NO

NO NO NO

He

He’s gonna forget Governor Kalen.

TAAKO NO

Forget Kalen - a person he hates - or Julia - a person he loves?

“If you ever see a slimy asshole named Governor Kalen - kill him.”

h oly

sh it

h O L Y

SH IT

(and of course they have no qualms about this. “Your quest for vengeance ends.” “And ours begins!!”)

“That was real cool, Magnus.”

“What was?”

I’m worried about the potential repercussions of this. I mean... Kalen was a huge part of Magnus’ life, for better or for worse.

Taako spins - aaand it’s on the clock. Oh boy.

“Instead of taking your age from you - why don’t we take away something that diminishes over time. Like your beauty?”

OH NO I DON’T THINK HE’LL ACCEPT IT

“For the first time in your life, you will simply look... normal. You will look plain.”

TAAKO’S GOIN’ NORMAL.

“I cast ‘Disguise Self’ on Taako.” OH MY G OD

Well, Magnus can see him for real.

FINALLY, the door opens.

The Red Robe beckons to the next room. Yeah, I had a feeling he was the invisible friend. 

oh boy it’s time for Trust or Forsake.

oh god he remembers Rowan

Rowan and his sad face.

He hits Trust. Of course.

AND THEY ALSO CHOOSE TRUST.

Alrighty, they’re moving to the next room - which is circular. And they’re... surrounded by screens showing vistas?

oh god more wooden marionettes.

a pile of them

“Are any of you feeling particularly... nostalgic?”

“Yeah I remember when we didn’t have to deal with this place.”

OH BOY THAT’S A MORE AGGRESSIVE BLACK CLOUD.

So the mannequins are kind of... building blocks for manifestations? Plus the Suffering cloud?

“Calibrating.” ohhh no

OH WAIT

ARE THEY BACK IN THE 

THEY’RE BACK WITH SPIDER BRIAN??

AND MAGIC BRIAN???

HOLY SHIT

“BOSS RUSH”

I’m more hyped than scared this music is really good ahaha

but this is really not good.

Aaand, ad break!

Back to the boss fight!

Aww, the bosses have no voices. Which is... fair enough, I guess.

MAGIC BRIAN HAS NO FACE

THAT’S HORRIFYING. 

holy shit, his facade has disappeared.

wait, that means they’re pretty much fighting a whole pile of mannequins.

oh god the spider’s after Taako.

ooof. That’s a doozy of a bite.

Spider Brian wasn’t too tough.

oh sh it

it’s Phandolin - AND FUCKIN’ GUNDREN

What’re you doing, Red Robe? What’re you workin’ on with that pile of mannequins?

“There’s something scanning you.” Oh boy they’re getting information from their minds, I guess.

The Hunger of Hogar?

TAAKO WHAT

holy shit he’s opening a portal to another horrible dimension.

ewww 

yeah ‘milky tentacles’ sounds awful

Merle’s next

HELL YEAH DE LA REESE

And Magnus is casting ‘axe.’ Dude, ‘axe’ is handy, we don’t always have to be using otherwordly magics.

Huh. The Angel took a while to get there. Bad reception in Wonderland, I guess?

oh shit here comes a fireball

CAM WAS THE ONLY ONE WITH A NAT TWENTY WHAT

AHAHA

Eleven damage isn’t... toooo bad?

Okay, new marionettes.

And it’s Jenkins and his lackeys. Oh boy I forgot he had meat monsters.

“Do you have a spare wand?”

CAM’S FUCKIN’ FLOATING 

I mean it’s all well and good. We finally have another fighter on the team!

That’s a more uplifting ending. 

... which just makes me more cautious for what’s next.

[teratomarty]

Size Isn’t Everything

(A Scout/Heavy fic for @daskingu​.  Hooray!  Also on AO3, for a change.)

It took a lot to fill the Heavy Weapons Guy’s mouth.  Unfortunately, the Scout’s cock was not really up to it.  The skinny American was thrusting quick and sloppy, which was good, but also meant he’d probably be done all too soon.  The runner grabbed at the back of Heavy’s head, fucking his mouth with abandon.  

He’d expected the Scout to come down his throat, but instead the younger man pulled out at the last minute.  The gouts of thin semen hitting his face were an arousing hint of what the Heavy really wanted, but now that the Scout was falling back, panting, a hint was probably all he was going to get.

“Aw, fuck yeah,” the skinny man grinned.  “Yeah, eat it all.”  He pushed a glob of come into Heavy’s mouth with his thumb.  The Russian couldn’t help but moan.

“You like that, huh?  What else do you like?”

Heavy waved a hand dismissively.  He just wanted to go back to his bunk and jack off.

“Fuck you, I asked you a question.”  The words came with a stinging flick to Heavy’s ear.

“Like big men.”  Just go away, Scout.

“Yeah? I’m not big enough, izzat what you’re saying?  Whattaya like, guys big enough to smack you around, or with dicks big enough to wreck your ass?”

“Both.”  Heavy stood up to go.

A knuckly jab to his solar plexus knocked the wind out of him, and a stinging pain just under his nose made him back off, eyes watering.  He backed away until hie hit a wall, and Scout still had a sharp thumbnail dug into the tender skin between his nose and upper lip.

“I dunno if you’ve seen me on the field, tons-of-fun, but just because I’m not frickin’ huge doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.”  Switching his grip, he clamped his hands around the larger man’s balls.  “So whattaya say, you gonna go beat off about the BLU Heavy, or you gonna stay here and let me show you a good time?”

“... Will stay.”

“Good.”  Scout squeezed to within a fraction of crushing the Heavy’s balls.  “Take off your clothes.”

The Heavy did as he was told, until he was wearing nothing but a challenging smirk.

“Aw yeah.”  Scout looked at him like a monkey looking at a banana tree.  In much that same way, he leapt at the Heavy and climbed.  Heavy laughed in surprise and swatted at the younger man, but he clung tightly, digging his fingers into Heavy’s ribs and armpits.

The huge man’s booming laughter turned into the helpless guffaws of the terminally tickled.  The Scout was relentless, switching targets often and clinging too close for the Heavy to get in a decent swat.

“Oh, stop- stop!” he panted, red-faced.

“Say uncle.”

“What?” Heavy’s incomprehension was met with another round of furious tickling.  He fell to his knees and tried to shed the Scout by rolling over him, but the little bastard was nothing if not tenacious.  “Say uncle!”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Heavy gasped, face-down on the floor.

“Good, you’re learning.  Put your hands behind your back.”

The Russian felt loops of rope- no, cloth- twisting around his wrists, then the Scout’s bare hand on his cheek.  The palm was surprisingly soft in contrast to the calluses formed where his fingers were exposed.

“Up.”  The younger man slapped his face lightly.  “On your knees, bent over the bed.”

Heavy did as he was told, still somewhat red-faced from the tickling.  “Like this?”

“Yeah, and that tone’a voice is more like it, too.” Scout cupped Heavy’s cock and balls from behind.  “Jeezis Christ, the fuck is this, a baloney loaf? I can see why ya got such a swelled head.”  He swatted the back of the larger man’s skull.  “Ya gotta understand, size ain’t everything.”

There were some odd shuffling sounds coming from behind him, but scout said “Eyes front,” and flicked him hard on the balls when he tried to look around.  Even as the sting faded, he felt the American wrapping something around his cock.  Thin, tight… string?  Shoelaces, he realised as he heard the Scout padding barefoot around the room.  His cock was beginning to truly ache.

“So, big guy, who’s in charge here?” Scout smacked Heavy’s ass.

“Eh, not sure.”

“Smartass.” Scout yanked on the shoelaces, making Heavy roar in pain.  “I said, who’s in charge?”

“You,” Heavy mumbled.

“Who is it?”  The younger man tugged Heavy’s cock backward, bending it almost up to his own ass.

“You!”

“Sorry, didn’t hear ya?”  Scout caught the head of the Russian’s cock in a vicious pinch.

“You! Scout is in charge!”

“You better believe it, fatass… Actually, I think I know just what that big fat ass of yours needs.”  There was rattling and clanking from Scout’s footlocker.  “Hah!”

A crinkle, a squelch, and something cold and slick pressed against Heavy’s exposed ass.  “Open wide, big guy.”

The Russian tried to relax back against whatever the American was pushing into him.  “Is… needs more wet.”  He was losing his ability to concentrate on translating.

The squelching sound resumed, and whatever-it-was returned, slick and smooth but still entirely too wide.  Not a dildo, not a fist, too rounded…

“Scout… is bat?”  Heavy’s ears burned with shame.

“Damn right it’s a bat.  Brand-new, top-of-the-line aircraft-grade aluminum.  I been savin’ it for best.  An’ it’s goin’ up your ass.”

“Is too big!”  Heavy protested.

The American paused.  “Lemme hear you say that again.”  His voice cracked, grating downward.  Heavy’s cock twitched.

“Is too big.”  The flush had spread to Heavy’s cheeks.  “Need to stretch first.”

Setting the bad down on the bed, Scout stroked Heavy’s spine.  “Yeahhh… yeah, we can do that.”  More obscenely wet sounds, and Scout’s fingers traced around Heavy’s hole.

The big man relaxed enough to take one of Scout’s skinny fingers, then two and even three with no trouble.  “Yeah right, you needed a warm-up,” Scout taunted.  “You just wanted to get finger-banged.”  He hooked his fingers, stretching the rim of Heavy’s hole from the inside.

Heavy moaned and rolled his hips, cock rubbing ineffectually against the rough wool blanket.  Trying to get some leverage, he turned his head to the other side.  “Why is condom on bat?” he said, seeing it for the first time.

“Like Hell I’m gettin’ ass-juice on my brand new bat!”

Heavy’s booming laugh was cut short as Scout yanked on the shoelace around his balls.  “Yeah, laugh it up, fatty-fat.  You won’t get nothin’.”  He withdrew his fingers and instead squeezed the big man’s balls.

“Nnh-” Heavy groaned.  The pain was intense, but the emptiness in his ass was worse.

“Aw, your ass is twitchin’.  You wanna get fucked?”

“... Yes,” Heavy admitted.

“Yes, what?” Scout twisted his balls.

“Yes, please, Scout.”  Heavy could feel the heat from his face burning against the rough blanket.

“Aw yeah!”  There was another crinkle- a condom wrapper, he realised, and the bat was whisked from his view. He felt latex-slicked metal against his ass again- smaller- the handle end.  He gave a short shout at the abrupt intense stretch as Scout forced the knob inside him.

Heavy couldn’t do anything but thrash helplessly as the American violated him with the crude weapon.  Scout jammed the knob against his prostate, making his whole body jerk.

Apparently the skinny runner liked that, as he repeated the motion, and then did it again.  Soon, Heavy’s cock was leaking thick, clear pre-ejaculate, smearing against the edge of the mattress and dripping onto the floor.

“Real worked up, ain’tcha?”  Scout leaned across Heavy’s back to whisper in his ear.

“Da… Scout.”

“You want more?  Say it in English.”

“Yes, yes, Scout, please!”

“Fuuuuck.”

Scout switched ends of the bat- Heavy saw him shoot a condom off into the garbage can like a  rubber band.  The business end of the bat pressed against his ass again, but this time he was stretched and slick enough to take it, ever so slowly as Scout worked with unusual patience.

Heavy wished that his hands were free so that he could cover his face or put his fingers in his mouth.  As it was, he pushed his face into a fold of blanket and tried to moan quietly.  The stretch and burn, the sensation of being filled to the limit of his endurance, was exactly what he had craved.  Firmly bound as his balls were, he could feel them try to draw up against his pelvis.

“Please, more, more!”  He arched his back, pushing his hips toward his teammate.

“Fuck yeah!”  Scout hammered into him with the bat.

“There, there, don’t stop!” It was the last thing Heavy managed to say before lapsing into incomprehensible whimpering.  The tip of the bat knocked back and forth across his prostate, driving him out of his mind.  He felt as if he could lie like this and get fucked forever.

The pounding stopped abruptly, making him groan in frustration as the bat was withdrawn.  

“Hold your horses, big fella.”  Heavy felt Scout fumbling beneath him, and the laces around his balls were released.  Then the bat returned, sliding into his thoroughly stretched-out ass with obscene ease.  

He came as soon as the bat rubbed over his prostate, bellowing into the mattress, balls clenching so hard that it hurt.  Over the sound of his blood roaring in his ears, he heard his semen splatter onto the floor.  The pulsating pleasure seemed to go on forever- Scout thrust again every time he thought he was finished, setting off wave after wave of release.

When Scout finally withdrew the bat, Heavy collapsed.  He felt as though he were melting into the bed.  He panted, too worn out to even moan. Drifting in exhaustion and bliss, he heard the crinkle of another condom wrapper.

“Oh holy fuck Jesus goddamn.” Scout gripped Heavy’s hips. “You’re so fuckin’ sloppy loose.”  His cock slid smoothly into Heavy’s ass, touching off a deep, bruised ache. Heavy moaned.

“You like that, huh?”  Scout let loose, pounding into him like a jackrabbit.  Heavy sobbed in pleasure and overstimulation.  “Spread that ass for me, I’m-” Scout’s words dissolved into a howl as his hips snapped against Heavy’s abused ass.

The ache throbbed through Heavy’s pelvis, touching off another shudder of pleasure. He groaned and pressed back against the Scout.

“Oh, whew.  OK. Wow.”  The smaller man flopped bonelessly over the Heavy’s back. “That was amazing.”  

“Was very good,” Heavy agreed, wincing as Scout’s softening cock slipped out of him and let a trickle of semen run down his thigh.  “You are squash hands. Please to untie?”

“Yeah, sure.” Scout hoisted himself up and admired his handiwork.  “Man, you’re a wreck.  Fuckin’ look at that.”  After a long moment of admiration, he untied the big man’s hands.

“Is true what they say,” Heavy smiled, standing up and stretching his arms.

“What’s that?”

“Size is not everything.”

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

Scarlett Spider #1

(Hey, kids. It’s Director’s Cut time again, the time when I find really old fanfics and make them better and/or worse through the power of second drafts. One of these days, I’m gonna run out of subjects that I personally was involved in, but today’s not that day. Let’s talk Spider-Man, bitches!)

(Spider-Man was one of my favorite super heroes growing up. Part of that could have been the whole “every day nerd turning out to be a super cool guy” thing that became standard procedure for YA fiction in the nineties and 2000′s, or it could have been the fact that Spider Man was a super hero who dealt with terrible, life-threatening scenarios by snarking at them, making him my spandex clad spirit animal. It sure as hell couldn’t have been the spider part, because I’m pretty sure even now, I would not want to be even in the same room as a radioactive spider, even if its bites made you a super hero and didn’t, say, just give you spider-cancer.)

(Of course, one of the best things about the comic book universe, in my opinion, is the fanfiction side of things. Rather than indulge in complex sexual fantasies involving mass murderers being made tame in the presence of horny women or turning potentially years worth of established canon on its head to justify two men being reduced to a rudimentary desire to touch each others dinguses, the world of comic book fanfics gives us a greater chance of running into power fantasy of a very typically male bent. Such is the case with our buddy, the appropriately named Max Mercury, and his story about a totally not like the author teenage boy who’s best friends with a super hero and then becomes one because he’s also best friends with mad science. This is gonna be a fun one.)

Dark Alley

Ethan is in a dark alley when he comes against three thugs.

Thug 1: Hey kid gimme your money!

Ethan: I don't have any.

Thug 2: What did we say!

(Thug 1: Fool, you didn’t say nothing.

Thug 2: Bro, I know that, all right? We been over this. I’m just tryna establish a “united front.” Like, your words are all our words, and shit. Businessmen in, like, Japan and shit do it all the time.

Thug 1: We ain’t in Japan, neither. Quit fucking around.

Thug 2: Bro... Bro... holy shit. I know we ain’t in Japan, alright? I ain’t a moron, or nothing.

Ethan: Should I just leave you guys alone, or something?)

Thug 3: I think this kid needs to be taught a lesson.

Scarlet Spider: Get away from my friend!

Thug 1: The Scarlet Spider.

(Scarlet Spider: People’re usually a bit more surprised when I sneak up on them.

Thug 1: We’re nameless thugs in a fanfiction. This was pretty much a guarantee.

Thug 2: Hey, Spider-bro. It’s all good. Maybe we could exchange business cards’re something. You know, businessmen in Japan...)

The Scarlet Spider beats up the bad guys.

They get up and run away. Scarlet Spider: Stay here Ethan I'm gonna take out the trash!

Ethan: Go take them punks out!

Classroom – Daytime

Ethan Masters, a 15 year old African American Male is sitting in class asleep (dreaming) when his teacher calls him. (Well, it’s good that we have the barest description of the character in the scene after he’s been introduced. Also, what’s he dreaming about? I choose to believe he’s having the “I have to go to the bathroom, but there don’t seem to be any in this building” dream.)

Teacher: MR MASTERS!

Ethan (Groggy): What, huh?

Teacher: WAKE UP!

Ethan (Groggy): I'm not sleep.

(Teacher: WELL GOOD! I’D HATE FOR THIS CLASS TO BE BORING FOR YOU!

Ethan: Man, do you have to yell like that all the time?

Teacher: WHAT? OH, SORRY! I JUST TEND TO GET REALLY EXCITED ABOUT TEACHING! *clears throat* Now, then...)

Teacher: What's the answer to number 3.

Ethan: Um 17!

Teacher: That might be right but we're in history class.

(Ethan: No, that’s what I mean. UM ‘17. The Utrechtmarkt of 1717. You know, Dutch East India Company and all that.

Teacher: Oh... well... Good job, Mr. Masters. You managed to remember a thing.)

The class laughs at him. The bell rings. And they leave. _______________________________________________________

Hallway – Daytime

Ethan is walking thorough the hallway as his girlfriend Lenina a 16 year old African American Female comes thorough the hallway and sneaks up on him.

Lenina: Hey baby.

Ethan kisses Lenina and begins to grab her butt.

Lenina: Not here baby.

Ethan gets off.

(Lenina: *recoils* Ugh, Ethan! I said not here! You and your stupid hair-trigger...)

Ethan: Sorry. What's up baby?

Lenina: We goin to the movies tonight.

Ethan: I can't.

Lenina: Why not?

Ethan: I gotta go over to Doc Samson's lab tonight.

Lenina: Again. You've been goin over there all week.

Ethan: But today the Doc's ready to test the Neogenic Recombinator. I gotta be there to see it. We've workedreally hard on this.

(Lenina: Oh, right. Pardon me. I was just offering boring old action flicks and some hot over-the-pants rubdown action when we made out in the car. I should have known that I couldn’t compete with a teenage boy and the siren call of cutting edge genetic engineering. 

Ethan: Don’t feel bad, baby. I still like over the pants rubdowns. It’s just, we can do that any old day, and we often do. How many opportunities does a guy get to stand on the threshold of God’s domain and drop a flaming bag of dog crap on the porch?)

Ethan goes over to his locker and opens it up showing pictures of Spiderman and even more of the Scarlet Spider.

Lenina: I could see idolizing Spiderman but that other guy. (Actually, now that I think about it, isn’t it a bit weird you only have pictures of muscly men in skintight spandex bodysuits in your locker, that you fawn over constantly?)

Ethan: The Scarlet Spider was bangin girl! You don't know what you're talkin about. He busted up bad guys better in the short time he was a round than Spidey ever did. And if Philly had a hero I wish it had been him.

Lenina: Whatever. I got to get to the bus on time so I'll see you later.

They kiss and they go their separate ways.

_______________________________________________________

Doc Samson's Lab – Daytime

Ethan walks in Doc Samson's lab and puts his equipment on.

Samson: Ethan I've got the recombinator up and online.

Ethan: Great. (Glad to know you’re able to run the machine that allows you to do your job, Doc. I was worried we were just gonna be staring at the thing all day, without plugging it in.)

Ethan goes over to Freddie, Doc Samson's pet, genetically engineered Spider.

Ethan: Hey Freddie.

He puts his hand in the cage and the spider bites him.

Ethan: OUCH! Your tarantula bit me.

(Samson: Well, why did you put your hand in the cage? It’s a spider, not a puppy.)

Samson: It's not just a tarantula, it's been spliced between a water spider, a tarantula, and a black widow. I devenomized him he won't poison you. (I also gave him racing stripes and the ability to whistle. I’ve created a mockery of natural design, and God save me, I don’t ever want to stop!)

Ethan: Good let's fire this baby up!

Samson: Okay we're gonna do some genetic crossing like I did with Freddie there. (I’m thinking today, we’re gonna combine a dog with a fish. I’mma call it a dosh!) Once we activate it.

Ethan: Cool.

Samson: Let's prepare for a test run!

Doc. Samson turns it on and the beam fires up.

Ethan (Raising his voice over the noise of the beam): Got a good flow.

Samson (Raising his voice over the noise of the beam): Yeah nice and smooth!

The Recomnbinator begins to overload.

Ethan (Fearful): It's overloading!

(Samson (over the noise of the beam): What? I can’t hear you! Did you say it’s overloa-)

The blasts come toward them.

Samson: GET DOWN! I'm gonna get the reflector.

Ethan is down while Doc. Samson gets the reflector. (The reflector was actually an umbrella, made of aluminum foil, but the Doc really seemed to get a kick out of using it.)

A beam goes toward Doc. Samson but he reflects it and hits Freddie then the same beam hits Ethan. Ethan springs to his feet. He tries to turn the Recombinator off. But it continues to overload.

Samson: It's to late get out while you still can!

Ethan: But Doc. (We can still save it. I mean, you wouldn’t be so stupid as to design a machine that deals with this much energy and not give it an emergency shutoff or some other safety feature, right?

A heavy, awkward silence fills the room, punctuated only by the chaotic rumbling of the Recombinator.)

Samson: GET OUT!

The room begins to explode and Ethan jumps out of the nearby window and lands on the ground running as fast as he can from the scene.

(Doc Samson stares at his machine, watching the arc of electrical shorts as they run along its surface, and opens up his reflector umbrella.

Samson: This is gonna suck, Freddie. You know what to do.

Freddie: *whistles the ending credits theme to the Incredible Hulk 1970s TV show*

Samson: *tears up* Good boy... good boy.)

Streets – Daytime

Ethan is running down the street as Police and Paramedics and firemen pull up and assess the situation putting the fires out etc. Police questions him as he returns to the front of the building. After a tough session he goes home.

Ethan's House – Daytime

Ethan's parents are watching the report of the science building exploding worrying about Ethan as he comes in. They hug him.

Mom: We thought you were dead.

Dad: We were so worried about you (I mean, not worried enough to go check it out, but...)

Mom: Are you okay?

Ethan: Yeah I'm fine I just want to go and rest. Mom: Okay honey take all the time you need.

(Ethan: Really? So, I could, like, get out of going to school tomorrow?

Mom: Yeah, not even a good try, kid.

Ethan: Crud)

Ethan: Thanks.

Ethan's Room - Nighttime

Ethan is in his room talking to himself.

Ethan: Man I almost didn't get outta there today good thing I jumped from the window. But it was on the top floor, how did I survive. I don't care I'm just glad I did. (Yeah, it doesn’t matter that my mentor’s probably dead and that I got out of an exploding building unscathed. I wonder if there’s still time to take Lenina up on that date...)

Ethan hears pots landing on the floor startled he jumps to the ceiling and sticks to it. He looks down.

(Ethan: Wait a minute... pots? In my bedroom? Pots don’t belong in my bedroom. And neither does this stove. Or this refrigerator. Also, I appear to be hanging from the ceiling.)

Ethan: What the hell's happening to me.

[veryangryhedgehog]

“Holy Shit the Climax is so Long I had to Split it into Multiple Parts”

Part II

An Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.

Cindy couldn’t hear much through the walls of the truck. In fact, after coming to a stop and waiting for a minute, presumably by one of the back entrances to St. Adelaide’s, she heard very little at all. There was the slam of the cab door as her Tommy climbed out, a small bit of muttering for a second, and then… nothing.

Niko stared back at her in silent horror as they both feared the worst. Tommy had been shot, or incapacitated, and here they were stuck in the back of a fucking delivery truck. There was a pop as the handle on the back door was opened, and Niko cocked his pistol. Then the door rolled upwards, and they both breathed as Tommy stood there in the white delivery man uniform. It contrasted horribly with his tattoos and near-dreads.

“It’s all clear,” he said. “I… uh, took care of them.”

They all climbed out after Niko, who hopped out first and surveyed the scene. Two students were lying unconscious on the ground. “Ya didn’t have to knock them out,” he commented.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like carrying you all into the building. I mean, you’re one thing.” Niko seemed to take offense at that. “But Cindy on the other hand…”

“Knock it off you big jerk.”

“No.”

“I think we’re just lucky that they were so gullible,” Marcell chimed in.

“Unfortunately, it won’t be so easy from here, because the Director isn’t.” Niko’s hand was still placed firmly on the trigger of his gun. “And there are a couple other pretty smart cookies to look out for. I don’t like that Abigail chick one bit.”

The others followed him into the shadow of the school. Above, it towered far over their heads, daring them to make another assault on its hallowed halls.

Niko led them forward through the service doors, pulling them open with a metallic shriek. They froze, but still, no one was there. Nodding, Niko gave  the signal, and they rushed through the storage rooms, which to Cindy seemed almost dangerously understocked. Either the spoiled, rich kids had just simply been wasteful, or this little “society” wasn’t meant to last as long as had been claimed.

Finally, as they neared the main corridors of the Bloch Building, they began to hear something. It sounded to Cindy an awful lot like panic. She and Niko pushed open the last set of doors and were nearly crushed by a stampede of crazed teenagers.

Niko glanced back at Cindy, grinning. “Looks like the distraction worked wonders. We’ve gotta hurry though. As of right now, we’re got no idea where they’re keeping your brother.”

“Actually,” Marcell had to strain to be heard over the cacophony. “We might. Last time you were here Aurum, ah, found a secret passage with Servus. It’s possible he could be down there.”

Cindy frowned. That was the face Marcell made when he wasn’t telling the whole story. But there wasn’t time to argue now. She looked over to the small automaton. “Servus,” she said, “Or Aurum, if you’re there. Do you remember which way it is?”

He paused for a minute, as if thinking, then visibly frowned. Finally, after around thirty seconds he nodded, and took off down the corridor. That was… strange. Servus had never really made a facial expression before, in all the time that Cindy had known him, at least.

The five of them ran past hoards of students speeding to their dorms, the gates, anywhere but here. At one point Cindy almost got blown away by the crowd, but Marcell grabbed her hand and they kept running.

What would they find in this “secret passage”? Cindy hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Of course, she was hoping that they’d find Mike alive and well, but what if they didn’t? What if he’d been tortured, or experimented on, or worse… what if he was dead?

But Cindy shook herself of that thought. It was just as likely that they wouldn’t find him at all. She didn’t know which was worse.

After a minute they headed up a flight of stairs and out of the main body of chaos. Now as they continued down the halls, they could still hear the calamity below, but muffled and distant. This floor was quiet, almost too much so.

Servus led the way around one final corner and made for the room that appeared to be their destination. But unfortunately, something was standing directly in the middle of their path.

At first, Cindy didn’t even recognize him. He was taller than she remembered, his hair longer and more wild, and from this distance she couldn’t really see his face.

“This… doesn’t look good,” Tommy muttered. The person was just standing there, watching their approach, and it didn’t look like he was going to move anytime soon.

Niko held out a hand, and they all stopped walking, except for Servus, who Tommy had to grab to keep from mechanically continuing forward. “Let me handle this.” Niko stepped forward.

“Hi,” he said conversationally to the figure while cocking his pistol. “How’s it goin’?”

The figure said nothing.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” he shrugged and grinned. “That’s alright, we’ll start off easy: what’s your name?”

“Nihil.”

His voice was hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. If it hadn’t been for that, Cindy might have recognized it sooner.

“He’s just toying with us,” Marcell whispered to Cindy. “Nihil is just ‘nothing’ in Latin.”

Cindy frowned. “Maybe…” she said. “but something seems… strange.”

“Okay, Nihil,” Niko continued. “We kind of need to get in that room you’re standing in front of. I uh, don’t suppose there’s any chance you would step aside?”

“None.”

Sighing, Niko slipped to the side. “Alright then, looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He raised his gun, and fired.

But in the millisecond it took the bullet to reach its target, Nihil was gone, and the bullet thumped uselessly into the wood of the door.

“Shit,” Niko muttered, before hearing breath next to his ear, and turning to see Nihil suddenly directly behind him. The latter reached forward, quicker than could be seen, to grab Niko by the throat.

Immediately, Marcell became fuzzy at the edges, half man and half mist. He floated above the two, where he solidified again and came down right on Nihil’s arm, who let go of Niko in surprise.

Niko collapsed, coughing and sputtering. Tommy ran over to help him up, while Cindy and Marcell gave chase, as Nihil had flash-stepped away down the corridor. Marcell went on ahead, moving faster as mist down the hall, and Cindy followed behind. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about their assailant seemed odd.

Marcell turned a corner after Nihil, and by the time Cindy followed they were already locked in combat. Marcell punched and kicked, but Nihil blocked each as easily as if he could predict them coming. But the sheer swiftness and force of Marcell’s blows was pushing him backwards.

Yet as he did so, Nihil seemed to notice how Marcell stuck to the spaces between the windows. He tilted his head to the side, and then, when the moment was right, he ducked under Marcell’s fist and punched through the glass on the windowpane.

As the sunlight hit him, Marcell covered his face and slunk back, the skin on his arms blistering. Nihil raised a fist, except that at that moment Cindy dashed between then. She blew a plume of fire towards him, but gasped when the light hit his face.

“I—” she managed.

Marcell recovered then, and started forward again.

“Lucius, wait!” Cindy cried.

A bullet zinged past them and missed Nihil by inches. Niko and Tommy were rounding the corner, followed closely by Servus.

“Don’t! Stop!” Cindy screamed. “He’s Mike!”

For a second, everything stopped. No one moved a muscle. Finally, Marcell looked down at Nihil and his eyes widened as well. “My god, you’re right.”

“That’s Mike?” Tommy interjected. “Why didn’t you tell me our little brother was a superpowered badass?”

“This is a new development,” Cindy shook her head.

Nihil simply looked confused. “That is not my name.”

“What are you talking about?” Cindy asked, frowning. “Of course it is. You’re Mike Miller, my brother.”

But there was no recognition in Nihil’s eyes. For a second, Cindy wondered if she was mistaken. But no, there was no doubt about it. The eyes that stared back at her were the very same as the ones she saw in the mirror every day.

“You will not confuse me any longer, witch,” he grimaced, and proceeded to lunge forwards. But his hand was grabbed in midair. Cindy blinked. It was Servus, the metal of his arm groaning under the pressure of Nihil’s strength.

“No,” he said, almost too quiet for anyone to hear over the creaking and the tearing. “Won’t… hurt… my friend.” The words came out slowly, painfully, as if he had to force them from his body. But he spoke.

And just when it seemed as if Nihil would break the arm that Servus was holding him with, the latter delivered a kick to the gut that sent Nihil flying down the corridor and through the door of a classroom. The five of them ran after him, Cindy throwing out her hands to make a wall of fire in the doorway. Even if he could move faster than they could see, he still couldn’t walk through fire. Probably.

By the time they made it to the classroom, Nihil had already recovered and was standing calmly just over the threshold. “You don’t have to bother,” he explained to Cindy. “I could kill you all easily, but you’ve proven that the effort required is simply not worth it.”

Cindy narrowed her eyes.

“Please.” he said. “I want to know about this ‘Mike Miller’.”

~~ o ~~

All the way down to the dark bowels of St. Adelaide’s, down in the deepest depths of the earth where the sun had never shown, the three of them followed him. Cancer came first, of course, the OG, the omnipresent, always there at the back of his mind with her parched, stretched lips and hairless visage. Behind her came Cocaine, her eyes crazed and nearly too big for her face, her dyed blonde hair wild, and bits of glass were imbedded all across her face and chest.

But now a third wraith joined the entourage of suffering. Her eyes were sad, tracks of mascara tears ran down her cheeks. The hole clean through her chest was still moist and bloody. Conscience. If only he’d listened to it sooner.

And here they were, and here was Doug, all locked up together in some sort of cell. Mike, Nihil, whoever he was, had strapped Doug to a table. He didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know that the instant he left the room the three of them were on Doug like vultures.

They stared down at him, pitying, more real, more human then they ever had before, and yet they were so still, so silent. They judged him, for the things that were not his fault, and the things that were.

“Wow, he must be really out of it, we’re even able to talk,” Cocaine said. They had never done that before, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world at that moment.

Cancer’s thin lips spread. “I believe this is what they call the ‘Heroic Blue Screen of Death’.”

“Heroic?” Cocaine blew air out of her nose. “As if. Look, if he’s a hero then I’m fucking Zoey Deschanel.”

Conscience didn’t say anything, just stared down at Doug, nearly pleading to him.

“You know why she’s crying?” Cocaine asked, leaning down towards him. He recalled the smell of Elizabeth, the taste of her lips before she had smashed through the windshield. “It’s because you could have saved her. If you’d just said something. You could have saved me too, ya know?”

“No, he couldn’t,” Cancer rolled her sphere-like eyes. “You made your own choices. You’re only here because you remind him of his equally bad ones.”

“Well, what about you, then? Why the hell are you here?”

She simply smiled for a moment. “I’m here to remind him that with this one, there was absolutely nothing he could do.”

“Shut up,” Doug said quietly.

“Oh shit, that’s good. You’re right.”

“I said shut up.”

“Oh! So now after all this time you’re finally gonna speak up?” Cocaine asked. “Afraid it’s too little, too late there, buddy.”

“Shut up! You don’t think I know that? Shut up shut up shut up!”

Doug squeezed his eyes shut. And when he opened them again the three of them were gone, and he was alone. He really was alone now, truly alone. Jilli was dead. She was fucking dead, and if he had just intervened in time… He’d as good as killed her himself.

The darkness around him was deafening. He was stuck here, wherever here was, with the one person he hated most in the world. Doug didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want to be at all.

He almost wished his demons would come back. At least he’d have all his mistakes to keep him company.

It was too quiet.

How did that one song go? The one that always got stuck in his head at the oddest of times? “The scene and herd…” he mumbled to himself. “Block out the sun like a flock of birds and I don’t wanna go…” huh. “I don’t wanna—”

Then the door behind his head opened with a heavy creak, and the room came to life.

He was in some kind of laboratory, that was for sure. As he blinked against the sudden brightness Doug couldn’t help gulping at the amount of beakers, knives, and various other tools of science that glittered from shelves and tables. The room, he now noticed, smelled vaguely like formaldehyde, and the walls were underlit with a sickly-green glow.

“So, at least we’re here, face to face,” said a sickeningly familiar voice from behind him, and suddenly the table he was clamped onto spun upright. Abigail grinned at him, and Doug’s blood boiled. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this day, to see the look on your face. And I have to say it’s just as wildly entertaining as I’d hoped.”

Doug didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust himself to speak. But he glared back at her with all the anger he could muster.

“No tears from you, of course. I didn’t expect that. But I said to myself, I said: ‘I want to see him angry. He’s always so gloomy.’ And now here we are. And it’s glorious. If all I had to do was murder a pretty girl in cold blood I would have done it ages ago.”

“Why?” Doug asked, before he could stop the word from slipping out.

She blinked innocently. “Why what? Why did I kill her? I already told you: I was done with her. She preformed her part beautifully, set the board of directors in a positive panic. But now, I don’t even need this school anymore, and I certainly don’t need any loose ends. Watching you die inside was just an added bonus.”

“No, not just that,” Doug shook his head. “Everything. This school, the experiments. Why?”

“Hmm…” she squinted, sizing him up. “Well, you’re going to be dead in a few minutes so I suppose it doesn’t matter. You see, Doug,” she leaned on a nearby metal table conversationally. “I’ve always been burdened with mankind’s greatest sin: curiosity. As soon as I don’t know something I simply must have the answer. Or I will die. Some of the more pressing questions in the early days of my career produced what you see before you,” she gestured to herself. “So now with my clock permanently reversed, you could say, I can now sate my unending curiosity on my own time.

“The whole purpose of this school was to find the perfect candidate for Project Paragon. I knew I was going to need a teenager, they’re the only ones with the right brains, you see, so what better cover than a school? Unfortunately I needed a very specific brain, and it took years and years and years to find it. And I got bored of waiting. So that’s where you come in.

“Because sometimes you get frustrated. Something your results aren’t what you want them to be and all you want to do is zap someone senseless for a few hours.”

Doug’s heart dropped somehow further down. “That’s… that it?” he asked. “That’s the only reason?”

“You were simply stress-release. I had to relieve my tension somehow. And you never disappointed.” She smiled almost girlishly, running a hand along his cheek. “Never broken, always prepared to go one more round. Oooo, I still think about it when I touch myself at night.”

“Fuck you.”

“While that would be ever so pleasant, I’m sad to say that I am already previously engaged. And besides, in my long life, there’s one thing I’ve learned. Sex is all fine and well, but only one thing brings true satisfaction. Any guess what it is?”

He just stared at her silently.

“Fear. The oldest, and truest emotion. Because deep down, Doug, we’re all just scared animals. We’re all afraid. And to see all the layers of morals and lies come crashing down to get to the most base part down deep inside. Oh, I nearly cream myself every time I see it. And fear is the only way to get there.

“So tell me, Doug,” and here she grabbed his chin and straightened past her small height so that they were nearly touching noses. “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“Bees.”

She threw her head back and cackled. “That’s certainly a fear, but it’s not the fear. The one that drives you, the one that keeps you moving at all costs. You’ve gotten so used to running from it that I think you’ve nearly forgotten what it is. But that’s fine, I’ve already figured it out for you. You know you talk an awful lot in your sleep.

“So in order to send you off with a bang, as thanks for all that you’ve done for me, I’m going to give you a very special death.”

At that moment she hit a button and the table pitched back to flatten once again. “Do you know where Louis Carrol got his inspiration for the Mad Hatter, by any chance?” She stared down at him, the lights catching the rims of her glasses.

“Not a clue.”

“According to speculation, it was from the hatters,” she explained. “Back in ye olden days mercury was used to cure the felt with which hats were made, and since that material would then move directly to the hatters with no sanitation, they would constantly breathe in the mercury. Mercury is, of course, highly toxic, so most of them went a bit mad. They were so infamous for it that mercury poisoning was dubbed ‘Mad Hatter’s Disease’ for several years.”

Doug didn’t know where she was going with this, but wherever it was, he didn’t like it one bit.

“Now, those poor hatters had no idea what was happening to them. But I’ve always wondered what it would be like to really feel it, to have the knowledge that you are going crazy. Too bad you’ll be dead, or else I’d have you take notes, though you probably wouldn’t be able to hold a pen anyway.”

She reached somewhere out of sight, and before he knew what was happening, she had placed a breathing mask over his face. “Now, in about, oh, ten seconds I’m going to turn this little valve here, and mercury off-gas will start pouring out of that breathing mask, so you’re going to be able to feel yourself going insane and then dying.”

Eyes widening, Doug unconsciously began to breathe heavily, every sense kicking into over drive. He pulled at his restraints in vain. No. No, any way to die was fine. Anyway but this.

“Now that’s the fear I like to see,” Abigail’s earsplitting caterwauling nearly shook the room. “If only I could see the whole thing. But alas, I have urgent places to be. Oh well, that’s what video cameras are for.”

Without any hesitation she turned a valve on a canister with a squeak and then skipped to the door. “Smile for the camera,” she grinned. “And don’t forget to say ‘fuzzy pickles’!”

The door closed, and she was gone.

It was nearly impossible to keep himself from outright panicking. If he panicked, then the adrenalin would kick in and he would start inhaling the mercury twice as fast. Maybe if he held his breath for long enough someone would find him before it was too late.

But a second later, Doug realized the odds of that were next to zero. And besides, who would come to save him anyway? The only people who had maybe cared about him were dead.

Still, he tried. He held out as long as he could if only to delay the inevitable. He wouldn’t mind dying, it was true, but not like this. Because the more unstable he got, the stronger they became. Cancer, Cocaine, Conscience, they were going to come for him. All of his regrets would stare and laugh at him until his body finally gave out. Doug didn’t want it to end like that.

But as the seconds ticked by, the pressure in his chest became too great, stars began to dance across his vision as his forehead pounded. Instinct took over, and his took his first, poisonous breath.

For a minute, nothing happened. Maybe, he thought, Abigail had been mistaken, and grabbed the wrong canister, or more likely, this was some kind of sick experiment to see how he would react under pressure. Except that then he began to cough. It was just a little at first, but more and more over the next few minutes until his body was wracking with violent convulsions. He couldn’t tell if the metallic taste in his mouth was blood, or just the mercury.

Then he realized that the convulsions were increasingly not from the coughing. Even strapped down as they were, Doug’s hands were shaking.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything. He kept hearing things, random noises and laughter. Then he saw it out of the corner of his eye. Cancer, the fucking harbinger. And on the other side of the room, he could smell Cocaine smacking its lips.

The shaking was getting worse, up his arms and legs, and the coughing was so bad that he hardly noticed Conscience straddling him, rubbing against him. Jilli. Jilli why her hands were in his hair, her perfume overwhelming him. Though he couldn’t see very well his vision cutting in and out as if the world was flickering, he saw with increasing panic that the inside of the mask attached to his mouth was red.

He convulsed on the table, nearly dislocating his ankles and Cancer and Cocaine close in their smiles stretched wide and laughing laughter filling his head. Stop it stop it stop it nooooo but they haven’t reached him, why aren’t they coming? Are they waiting for him to do something are they mocking him what? But he can’t see he can’t turn his head his horns are in the way.

And then—

The straps were released from his wrists and ankles, the mask pulled off, and Doug shook himself off the table and onto the floor.

Dimly, from somewhere very far away, he registered the pain from hitting the concrete. And then someone was dragging him to his feet and out of the room. But Doug was half-blind, the world smearing around him like fingerpaints.

He tried limply to help whoever was dragging him, but try as his might his legs were shaking far too much to be of any use. After a minute, his savior paused to catch his breath, and Doug managed to partially find his feet.

“Who—?” he asked, blinking rapidly into the man’s face. Eyelids were just windshield wipers. That’s how they worked, right? The shape of his face slowly came into semifocus: Victor. If he had not just inhaled a near lethal dose of mercury, Doug might have questioned how in the hell Victor even knew about this place, but as it was, the thought didn’t even cross his mind. He just smiled drunkenly.

“Jesus what on earth did she do to you?” Victor asked, mostly for his own benefit, but Doug tried to answer anyway.

“Hatter… juice,” was all that came out.

Victor’s face blurred spectacularly as he shook his head. “I don’t know what that means, but look,” he grabbed Doug’s shoulders to try to get him to focus on him, made difficult by the fact that his whole body was shaking like he was outside in the Antarctic wearing only a wet swimsuit. “You need to get out of here, she’ll be back any minute. There’s people upstairs. They’ll help you. Can you walk?”

“Sure.”

There was a noise, and suddenly, Victor was gone. Or maybe Doug had just momentarily blacked out, he wasn’t sure. But at that moment, he did what he’d always done, and the only thing that he ever could do.

He started moving.