#let’s hold hands… with our intestines…

[cultofthorns]

reversed viscera and wrong parts

[madamechrissy]

You and Satoru have a baby

Fluffy fluff. Emotional domestic cuteness.🥺🖤

You and Satoru have a baby, and you have a C-section. He's there and thoroughly sees all of you lol. Nothing graphic 🖤

“I’m scared, Satoru.” You whisper, tears falling, he kisses you sweetly, as several doctors and nurses surround you, metal clanking, instruments being used. You’re panicking but he’s cupping your face.

“I am too.” He admits, tears making those beautiful eyes you love glisten. “We’ll be scared together?”

You nod, choking on a sob then. “Do you want to take a look, Mr. Gojo?”

Gojo panics. “Oh no… what if I pass out!? And miss the baby!”

You giggle at that, and he glares. “Don’t wanna see my insides?” You whisper, he rolls his eyes.

“Already fucked em up-”

“Ahem. Mr. Gojo?” He winces, looking back at your face.

“Okay but if I pass out, adrenaline me or something.” You giggle again, as he still holds your hand as he stands, peaking over the curtain. “Oh shit!”

“Oh god… what!?” You tense, and he peeks back at you, grinning with his shimmery white teeth.

“I’m seeing all of you. Like all your insides!”

“Toru…”

“Oooh, that’s what part doc?”

“Intestines here. This is her liver.”

“All the way up there!?”

“Babies push organs up. And here… is the uterus.”

“Holy fuck, the baby is in there!”

You lay behind the curtain, blinking up and feeling odd hints of things, but you’re mostly numb, then…

“Gonna feel some pressure hunnie.” The nurse says next to you, and you nod, as Gojo peeks back at you.

“Baby this is really cool.” You snort, shaking your head at him.

“Thought you were scared?”

“Nah… oh my god!” You hear a little whine then, and your eyes fill with hot sticky tears, your heart fluttering with excitement, with love.

“Want to cut the cord, Mr. Gojo?” You wish you could see something, you see Gojo’s spiky white hair for a moment as he bends over.

“Like… right here?”

“Right there. Perfect.” You hear a clip of scissors, and then, a cry, a beautiful little cry.

“Oh my god, she’s so perfect.” You hear Gojo whisper, and then he laughs, looking down at the baby.

“Let me see, let me see!” You whine out, and then Satoru finally brings her around the curtain, your little girl.

“Oh my god…” You can’t sit, you just lay there, as he sits next to you, all wrapped up in a little white thin blanket. She has a beautiful, perfect little face, a head full of dark hair, more like yours, and then she opens her eyes, and… “She has your eyes, Toru, oh look!”

He leans over and looks then, as your baby squints against the bright lights, and her eyes are glittering blue, as brilliant as Satoru’s, if not just a little darker blue. Her perfect cupid's bow of a mouth is opening and closing, and you gently caress her chubby little cheeks.

“Hey, baby girl, you’re here. Welcome to the world.” Gojo murmurs next to you, and your heart is so full you think it will burst, looking at the two loves of your life right in front of you.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much already.” You whisper, and your eyes lock with Satoru’s.

“She has your hair, and your nose.” He whispers, tapping her little nose, then yours, kissing you then, tasting your salty tears.

“Your eyes, and your lips.” You whisper back, and your little baby whines a bit, then yawns, closing her eyes again. “I love her so much. So much, it hurts. Ugh, just look at her! It’s our baby , Toru!”

He grins, but his face is streaked with tears, as he holds her back against his chest, carefully caressing her tiny cheek. The sight of Satoru holding your tiny baby in his big arms shatters you further. God you’ve never been so happy, so thrilled… and honestly, as exhausted as you were, you’re full of happiness.

“You’re so tiny and cute, like a little dumpling!” Gojo says, and the nurses coo and giggle too now, along with you. “I’ll call ya dumpling, yes I will.”

“Toru, you’re so cute.” You gently brush a weak hand down his arm. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed with excitement, his face not stopping that grin.

“Gonna spoil the fuck out of you, dumpling. So pretty like your mama, aren’t you sweet girl?”

Tumblr link

Ao3 link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140629990

[guiltysungho]

— bad idea right ?!

genre : tags. fluff, brother's best friend, enemies to lovers (?), teasing, slightly suggestive, sex mentioned

pairing. brother’s best friend!han dongmin x gn!reader

wordcount. 1825

a/n. i hope y’all like this, its not proofread cause it should be fine lol, its a bit more fluffy than pt1 also yk longer. here’s part one if you even care.

Last night in Italy and you were starting to genuinely wonder why your brother had brought you along on the stay. Most nights he would just leave you alone to enjoy the scenery with his girlfriend, and you had no interest in partaking in that experience, so you would end up with Dongmin. Going out to enjoy the night life with him felt unthinkable in the first couple night but the prejudice you had of him was starting to wear off.

After spending a few nights in each other’s company, you couldn’t just say you hated him anymore, he wasn’t really hateable as much as you hated to admit it. He was admirable if anything, you’d find yourself opening up to him so easily whenever it was hard to fall asleep, just talking about anything and everything. In some ways he pushed you to talk, like he could see all the baggage of thoughts weighing on your mind and wanted to help you unpack, he would ask simple questions like why, how come and you tell him all about it.

It was an odd case, two weeks ago you were sure you hated his whole essence but somehow, he’d become someone who listened to your worries, when you didn’t even know you had worries that needed to be heard. You couldn’t help but be cautious, because of the things you knew, you’d never truly open up as much as you wanted. He’d always be attentive either way, his tired eyes fixed on you as he stayed beside you on the bed resting his head in his hand, nodding every now and then. Your eyes would sometimes meet, and he would give you that lazy smile, such a dreamy smile.

“What?” you’d ask annoyed by how easily the expression made you shy away from his gaze.

“I just like listening to you, can I not smile?” he laughs at your sudden change in tone, you roll over away from his face before responding.

“Keep it to yourself” you turn off the lamp beside you, refusing to let him see the dumb smile on your face.

Once again you were stuck in the hotel room with him, only this time would probably be the last when you’d go back to your usual lives you knew it would be over and you were fine with that, you couldn’t afford to fall for him anymore if it would up in heartbreak and you knew it would.

“Get up, we’re leaving” he grabs a cap before heading for the door, looking at you expectantly, “We are not spending our last night in here. I promised to take you out remember.”

Rolling your eyes at him you stand up, silently agreeing to it all, a lopsided grin grows on his lips as he places his hand on the back of your neck pinching you making you lift your head up to cover your neck from his touch, giggling as you run away from him.

It would be a waste to not go out in the night at least once while you were in Italy, while you were with him.

You look at the machine he displayed in front of you with a show of hands, it was a small vespa moped that had been well used to say the least, listening to him explain about how he had rented it out for the trip and that it was safe, he had used it.

“It’s safe for one person, I know that for sure”

“So I should die? Dongmin seriously… I’m not getting on that” your whining barely registered to him, you look up at him with an annoyed pout as he places the helmet on your head leaning in closer to buckle it under your chin. He makes sure your eyes meet to give you a sweet smile to reassure you.

“Just hold on tight, I promise you’ll be fine, okay?”

And so it was done, you sat behind him on the scooter with a firm grip on his tshirt, he got his helmet on before taking your hands, pulling you closer to wrap your arms around his waist. You might have squeezed his intestines to paste during the first five minutes of the drive but he didn’t mention it, he just brought your attention to the scenery you were missing out on with your head hidden in his back. Once you did look it put you at ease, the beautiful sunset on the vineyards the type of view you’d only ever seen in movies.

You rested the side of your head on his back, still holding on as you watched the beauty unfold before you, the historical architecture, the fruitful trees holding on to the plump spheres of vibrant colours, you didn’t know where he was taking you, but you were already enjoying the ride. That was until the ride stopped, or should you say the scooter broke down, three final huffs and it was dead, he turned back to you with a grin on his face ready for your scolding.

“It was obvious at death’s door, I can’t believe this” he got off first before helping you off, taking off your helmet just as he had put it on, eyes meeting yours before he spoke.

“Trust me”

As hard as it was to just blindly follow him you just did, there was no where else to go. You were in a small seemingly empty town in the south of Italy with a broken down vespa, you would be fine from here.

It wasn’t a long walk till you realized where this was going, the neon lights flashing at the distance told you all you needed to know, you try hiding your smile turning away from his sight, but he caught on, he already knew you would like it, and the more you got closer the harder it was to stay indifferent. It was a big fun fair right by the dock, the ocean view was barely visible in the darkening sky, but the cool breeze was all you needed.

“Cool.” You shrug glancing at him with a big smile on your lips as you looked at the attractions marvelled by the variety of rides, completely overjoyed.

His gaze lingers on the happiness across your face, it was a sight he’d never seen, he knew he liked your smile but what he was feeling was beyond that, he wanted this happy face to last, like he would do anything to keep you this smiley.

You don’t waste much time after parking the moped, once you’re in you go on a ride together, the one with the least people waiting so you’re on in a dash.

“I’m actually really bad with adrenaline rides” he confesses as you get bucked in your seats, you turn to him with a confused smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the ride starts lifting you up slowly so it can spin you around in the air,

“You looked so excited” you can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in your holding onto it tightly, watching his worried eyes scan the environment before shutting close as the spinning starts.

Honestly you had screamed a lot more than him, but his hand held onto your so tightly you couldn’t feel it anymore. You ended up alternating from slower rides to faster ones, he insisted on joining you but once in the ride you could see his regret in his shaky eyes, so your hands would meet and you would scream together at drops, laughing about it once you were back on the ground.

It was more fun than most of your amusement park experiences for some reason, you felt lucky, to have someone drive you on a barely functional moped just to go on rides he couldn’t even stand, he was nothing like anyone ever painted him out to be, he was just a kind person. Finally taking a break from all the rides, you found refuge in a small playground right beside the place, dragging your tired feet along with a large ball of cotton candy in your hand for you to share.

You both found seats respectively on each side of a swing set, swinging along with the gentle seaside wind, it was a nice ambiance with the coloured lights still flashing from the fair.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I underestimated you” he looks over to you with a faint smile.

“I’m really not the bad guy you think I am,” you wanted to reassure him that you didn’t think that but the reminder that you didn’t know him that well came in, it was like you couldn’t help but protect your heart because of how easily you trusted people in the past. “I just got mixed up with the wrong people.” a dry scoff escapes his lips.

“I don’t—”

“Can you trust me again? I don’t really care what anyone else thinks but I want you to see me as me, not as caricature that someone else formed of me” his gaze is upwards to the starry night sky, not entirely sure you would take his word, you reach for his hand wrapped around the swing rope bringing him back to you.

For a change it was you listening to him, he explained how baseless the rumours were, a product of envy from peers across the campus, he never did anything to trigger it, he only kept to himself and that annoyed people. They felt they were entitled to his attention and since he didn’t bother amusing their tricks, they used rumours to make him detested by people who didn’t even know him. You were no different from those who spread the rumours, judging him from the moment you met instead of giving him a chance to be himself.

“I’m so sorry, Dongmin” from the first day you could tell he wasn’t as bad as you had heard him to be, but you held on to whispered words when you could have just let yourself realize the truth.

He smiles getting up from his seat to meet you crouching in front of you to meet your eyes, lifting your chin up gently before pulling your cheeks up to form a smile.

“I like it when you smile more, don’t feel bad for me” his eyebrows raise in shock surprised by your deepened frown, watching as your gaze trail off.

“So you really didn’t want to fuck me?” you ask glancing at him hesitantly, it was a joke to ease the mood, you hadn’t thought it through much but you wanted to know what he would say as a joke.

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughs picking out a ball of cotton candy from you before going back to his swing like nothing happened while you tried to decipher the depth of that short sentence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

🏷️; @ihopeusmile

[textingtroublesanswers]

Who proposed, Lutz or Misha?

"Let me tell it! Let me!" Ludwig squeals, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mikhail wraps him up in a hug & kisses him.

"Da. Alright. Doktor tells it."

"So! It was our first checkup after returning to work for RED. We were all still a bit shaky with each other, & I was feeling..." Ludwig scowls, "Guilty, quite frankly. Over what happened with the Classics. I could see the rest of the team treating me with some distance, much like when we first started working together in '68."

Mikhail stays silent, but he is holding his doktor nonetheless.

"Misha, during his checkup, complained of a pain in his stomach. I didn't know what it was from just a cursory checkup, so he suggested surgery. I couldn't pass that up, now, could I? Especially not when he was offering it."

"Then, doktor cut me open like when first installing Uber charge." Mikhail says with a fond smile.

Ludwig pouts, "Who is telling this story? Me or you?" He can't keep the pout up for long, however, "Ja, I cut him open & rummaged around in his innards. He was so warm & I had forgotten how much I loved this, exploring him on the inside as well as on the outside. And then! I came across some small obstruction in his large intestine. I was quite shocked, I had expected a kidney stone or something of the sort, but instead I pulled out a ring. I still have it, give me a moment!" Ludwig zooms off, leaving Mikhail to finish the story.

He is smiling as he continues, "Doktor put ring on & started crying right then and there. Put face in Heavy's open stomach & got blood all over his cheeks, looked so adorable. Asked him to marry me, said I wanted to do this before, before RED & BLU dissolve. Doktor climb up on top of operating table, on top of Misha, & just cried of happiness!"

Ludwig rushes back in, holding a silver band in his hand, encrusted with a single blood red ruby at the top, "I found it! Look at how pretty it is. It even has engravings on the inside!"

"To the man who holds my heart in his hands." Mikhail recites, wrapping his arms around Ludwig & staring at the silver ring. Ludwig slips it onto his finger, on the opposite hand to his wedding ring, & stares at them both.

"I can't remember why I stopped wearing it."

"Birds tried pecking stone out."

"Oh. Right."

[bluesest]

A guy telling his boyfriend who is sitting on the toilet to hold in his diarrhea and beg for release

A Holding Boyfriend

My boyfriend and I had a great amazing date where we went to a critically acclaimed restaurant called: "The evening", it was an amazing night and the dishes were a total delight:

As an entrance they gave us a glass with 10 shrimp, they looked incredible and my boyfriend devoured most of them, I wanted to stop him because he was aware of what happens to his stomach when he consumes any type of seafood, but when I told him he replied:

Boyfriend: "It's not for so much love, I prefer the taste and suffer the consequences, because I tell you that this is totally delicious"

Me: "It won't be nice when... forget it"

I stopped at that precise moment, my neurons agreed that this could lead to a situation that was quite ... interesting.

10 minutes of anecdotes and laughter passed, the waiter gave us the main course: "Filet Mignon" with potatoes and asparagus, we had several sauces to choose from but my boyfriend's favorites were: "Brown Sauce" made from celery, onion, meat broth, garlic, among other ingredients, and also the classic barbecue sauce, all these made in an artisanal way, It was an amazing dinner at an amazing restaurant, we paid the bill and with a great feeling in our stomachs we left the establishment.

When I got into the car my boyfriend said some words that would leave me cold:

Boyfriend: "I think it's better to leave the windows open"

Me: "But it's very cold out there"

Boyfriend: "My stomach is baking something heavy, I think it wasn't a good idea after all"

Me: "I warned you"

Boyfriend: "But I don't regret it"

He started leaning quickly, held the steering wheel tightly and let out a giant gas, I never thought he would be able to match something like that.

*PPFPFPFPFPFPTTTTTTTTTTTT*

Boyfriend: "Ufffff that was a good one"

I blushed at the time, me and he have been together for at least 3 years where we have acquired a small apartment and I had never heard or smelled a fart like that in the time I live with him.

Neither he nor I bothered at that moment, as a couple we have witnessed many things from each other including our embarrassments, he is usually quite open to these issues and has no shame at all about farting at least in front of me, it is something I admire about him, his trust towards me to show something that you would never show someone, even if it is something as "disgusting" but natural as farts.

He began to laugh sheepishly while I enjoyed the natural smell of his intestines invading my nostrils touching them softly like a light, pleasant scent of a small flower between his large, tight buttocks.

He began to feel his stomach with his left hand as he paid attention to the road and said:

Boyfriend: "I feel gassy"

My eyes shone with those words, I didn't want to be an obstacle to him so I said:

Me: "Fart freely, don't worry about me"

Boyfriend: "Are you sure? I mean... doesn't it bother you?"

I put my hand on his stomach and said, "I like every part of you" and then I started to lower my hand to his crotch releasing some of the sexual pressure I felt and couldn't hold, just the smell that was locked in the car served as an aphrodisiac for me.

Boyfriend: "You should take that hand out of there"

Me: "Why?"

*PPFPTPPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPTPTF* *PRRRRRR*

I was immediately surprised and automatically began to grab his crotch more tightly:

Boyfriend: "Calm down there babe, I don't want your hand to stink of shrimp and meat"

Me: "You know me, I like your meat"

Boyfriend: "hahahaha... I can't believe we're doing this while I'm driving and farting."

Me: "I can't believe this is heating me up"

Boyfriend: "Don't worry, very soon we will arrive at the apartment *PFFTFTTFTFTFTFTFTFT* and the bathroom"

It was 10 minutes on the road where I tried to ignore my farting boyfriend, in total he farted about 3 before arriving, but it was impossible for me to think of anything other than his tight buttocks vibrating from the air that comes out.

Entering the apartment I try to kiss him and continue releasing the tension, but he stops me and says:

Boyfriend: "Not now, I must visit the bathroom for a moment"

Me: "From 1 to 10, how much do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Boyfriend: "like a 6, but the more time passes the more I will want to"

Me: "That means you'll be able to hold on for a while longer."

Boyfriend: "I don't know..."

Me: "It will be quick, let's go"

Boyfriend: "Okay, I guess I'll hold on a little longer before... *PPPFFTFTTFTF* uuppss now went up to a 7"

We both started to hug each other, I took the first step and started to lower my hand and grabbed his left buttock with passion while he began to kiss me and guided me to our bed where we let ourselves fall without separating our bodies and lips, he began to moan very low shyly while my hand went up his entire back.

*PPPFFFFTFTFTTF*

He stopped kissing me and his face moved away from mine, with a look full of passion and shame he told me: "Babe, I really need to go to the bathroom", I pretending not to have heard him I started to lower my hand again and this time I put it under his underwear touching his bare buttock feeling a little sweat and chills from his big butt.

However, while I was caressing his buttocks he touched my arm and said: 

Boyfriend: "Hey, you just realized you put your hand under my underpants seconds after I fart, didn't you?" 

Me: "I know, but I don't care, you're irresistible."

Boyfriend: "Even if it smells like rotten eggs?"

Me: "Even if you're shit on yourself, I'll love you"

Boyfriend: "Then I'll check if that's true."

He started staring me in the eye as he applied some pressure to my arm and...*PFPPTPTPTPPFPFFTFTFTF* *PRRRR*

I was too surprised, not only by the fact that my biggest wet dreams came true, but also by the fact that I felt a few small drops on my hand, it could be sweat, but I would rather imagine that it was that thick mixture that is cooking in his stomach wanting to come out, and his comment gave me a clue.

Boyfriend: "That was a wet one... I must go to the bathroom"

Me: "But I just showed you that I don't care what your body does while we love each other."

Boyfriend: "I know, but now my desire has gone up to an 8, this is already serious"

Me: "And what would be the problem?"

Boyfriend: "That at any moment I could... make a mess"

For a moment I thought I was taking this too far, maybe he doesn't like this as much as I do, I started to feel guilty about forcing me to do something that my boyfriend doesn't like and dislikes, my lust left my body for a moment and I was about to give my boyfriend "Permission" to go to the bathroom once and for all and maybe continue with this without the factor Farting and diarrhea wouldn't be as interesting, but those thoughts left my head when I heard him say, "But I could take it longer, babe."

He said it with a mischievous smile and eyes full of passion and desire, he put both his hands behind my head and pushed it gently and slowly towards his head, where our lips collided again with even more passion than the first time, now he was the one who began to hug me and caress my back and I innocently wanted to do the same as him and I started to take my hand out of his ass to carry it behind him but he stopped me: "You said you didn't care if I suck right? Then you will NOT take that hand off my ass" and without warning he farted violently and wetly: *PPFPPFPPTPPPTTTTFFFFTFTFT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

I groaned suddenly, even I was surprised and my boyfriend started laughing:

Boyfriend: "hahaha, I can't believe you did that when I farted"

Me: "Don't say stupid things, that was just a mixture of surprise and passion, that fart only surprised me and that's it"

Boyfriend: "Sure?" *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFF* *PPRPRPRPRPRPR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTTTT*

I moaned again and was embarrassed to one more, but I felt my boyfriend's hand gently touching my cheek which managed to calm me down.

Boyfriend: "But at least I know you're serious when you say you love me."

Me: "Hahahaha enough of being ashamed"

Boyfriend: "I... *PFTFTFTFT* uffff... I'm serious, I was ashamed"

Me: "Shame?"

Boyfriend: "Embarrassment when I had to play the two while you were in the apartment, I was sorry that you heard or smelled, I always read on the internet that the main reasons for couple separations were because of this type of taboo subject?"

Me: "But why? If everyone does it"

Boyfriend: "It's just that... *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTTF* aghhh, I think it's up to a 9 now, it's already dangerous at this point"

Me: "You don't have to be ashamed, at least not with me because you already know that I love you no matter if..."

Boyfriend: "I shit on myself... *GRRRRRRRRR* ohhhh stop for a moment... here comes a big one..."

Me: "Don't worry, you know I don't care"

Boyfriend: "I know... aghhh *PPPFTPTPTPTPTFFT* *PPRPRPRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFFTF* *PRRRRRRRRRRR* *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*"

We both stopped at that moment, he had a face of fear and shame which I didn't understand the reason until I felt a strange thick hot liquid that was where I understood everything.

I immediately pulled my hand out of his butt making it even more muddy, but I didn't do it because I was disgusted but because I wanted to see the mess my hand became when he expelled that rancid diarrhea mixture.

My boyfriend finally reacted to what had happened, he stood up and got out of bed, turned to look at me again, directed his gaze towards my hand with diarrhea and then to my face something shocked, and with shame in his eyes and in his voice he said: "Sorry, I think I measured wrong... It wasn't a 9, it was an 11"

After saying that, he walked making small jumps to take off his underwear with a big brown stain with lumps and once naked he went to the bathroom of our room without closing the door and before sitting on the toilet I took his arm which surprised him and turned quickly.

Let me tell you that it's not the first time I've seen him naked or vice versa, we were a couple after all, but it's the first time that his completely naked body almost gave me a heart attack, his ass stained with brown diarrhea, his big penis and his face of shame but that denotes a little passion made lust take control of my body and caused me to stop him before he released his stomach.

Boyfriend: "Babe, I know we were on to something, but I really have to go *GRRRRRRR* went up to 12"

Me: "I think you could hold on a little longer..."

Boyfriend: "Definitely not!"

Me: "You're a strong man, of course you can"

Boyfriend: "Babe didn't you see my underpants? I literally ruined them!"

Me: "Come on, they're not so bad, I can buy a whole box if you want"

Boyfriend: "I'm shitting, I need the toilet NOW!!"

Me: "And I need you NOW!!!"

The atmosphere became tense, we both screamed in desperation, but I definitely shouldn't have done that for a sexual game, I still wasn't sure if he liked that idea or was even enjoying everything that happened.

We both remained silent, he, even naked, stared at me with a bit of confusion while I couldn't look him in the eye because of how embarrassed he was.

Boyfriend: "Wow that's definitely not you, what's wrong with you, is there anything I can help you with?"

Me: "It's nothing, just that I really wanted to continue..."

He started to approach me slowly and gave me a hug, I felt his crotch harden, although to tell the truth I don't know if it was HIS crotch or mine, and with a soft voice he told me:

Boyfriend: "That has nothing to do with what we were doing, tell me the truth, I don't want to do something that bothers you..."

With shame and a trembling voice he had no choice but to confess.

Me: "This will sound weird or even disgusting to you, and I don't want you to think that about me..."

Boyfriend: "You are a beautiful man, sexy from head to toe and someone intelligent who always makes me laugh in my best moments or accompanies me in my worst moments, nothing you say is going to change my opinion of you or the love I feel for you"

His face slowly approached me and began to kiss me softly.

Me: "You see... I... I like what it's all about... well..."

Boyfriend: "Be confident"

Me: "I... I like it..."

Boyfriend: "Go ahead"

Me: "I LIKE TO SEE PEOPLE HAVE DIARRHEA, IT MAKES ME REALLY HOT TO SEE THEM IN A SITUATION LIKE THAT!!"

Boyfriend: "..."

Me: "It's... a fetish..."

I finally confessed, but... silence says more than a thousand words, doesn't it? He didn't say anything, at that moment I thought his face was one of contempt, disgust and horror, if he were honest and was in his reactionary position the same. I froze, I didn't know what to do, but...

Boyfriend: "hahahahaha..."

Me: "Why are you laughing?"

Boyfriend: "Let's say I have the perfect partner"

He kissed me again, then he moved away and with a funny but gallant look he says to me: 

Boyfriend: "I'm proud that you put your trust in me and that's why I love you, besides, that fetish is called Scat, just so that you are more informed"

Me: "Wait... Are you?"

Boyfriend: "I've never tried it before, but let's just say I'd really like to try it with you love"

This time I started kissing him, I couldn't believe it, he was definitely the perfect man for me... *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* He turned his face away from mine and said: 

Boyfriend: "All these emotions made me forget that I had to shit"

Me: "Hey... sorry for going too far, if you want I will leave you alone"

Boyfriend: "Don't you remember what I told you? I would like to try this... and I want you to be my guide"

Me: "Are you sure?"

Boyfriend: "Of course, but you better hurry, if I don't sit on that toilet right now... I think we will have to clean the floor"

I laughed shyly and we both moved towards the bathroom where I wonder: "what should I do now?"

I stopped for a moment, I didn't know what to do either because I had never been in a situation like this and I decided to start with something classic and simple:

Me: "How about something to hold on?"

Boyfriend: "Wasn't that what I've been doing all this time?"

Me: "Yes, but this time you'll push it to the limit, now sit on the toilet."

Boyfriend: "Like orders"

He went straight to the toilet, when he turned his back to me I could notice his big sweaty butt and a slight tightening of buttocks, you could tell from afar that he could barely move and prevent his entire interior from coming out in a violently explosive way.

A cold and short sound indicated that his butt kissed the porcelain, he raised his sexy gaze and looked me straight in the eyes waiting for my next order:

Me: "Just hold on until you can't take it anymore..."

Boyfriend: "Really? No kind of game or something?"

Me: "I'm new to this just like you!"

*GRRRRRRRRR*

Boyfriend: "I think my stomach is new to this too"

Me: "Let me hear your opinion"

Boyfriend: "Okay"

He subtly leaned into the seat, raising his butt as high as he could where he expelled a vibrating and loud fart: 

*PPPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

I could see small brown drops shoot out of his butt which at this point was so tight that it could easily break a nut.

Me: "Hey! You're cheating when you're farting"

Boyfriend: "I'm sorry babe, but at this point my body controls itself" 

He made the same motion to let loose an even bigger fart

*PPFPPTPTTPTPTPFFFTFTFTFTF* *PRRRRRR*

I couldn't tell if his little moan was one of pain or enjoyment, but I had no doubt that both parties enjoyed this little experience. I began to approach me:

*GRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTTT*

Boyfriend: "Oh! My intestines are burning"

Me: "Maybe I can help you with that..."

I slowly brought my hands closer to his stomach and began to caress him delicately making small circles one at a time.

*PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

Boyfriend: "Ufffff, I thought that the objective was to make it impossible for me to explode, not to make it easier for me"

Me: "I want it to be a bigger challenge, plus being so close to you I can smell you better"

Boyfriend: "hmmmm~ you really know what you do right?" *PFFFTTT*

Me: "Of course... The smell is amazing, how did you get your stomach to smell like a landfill?"

Boyfriend: "hmm~ I will confess something to you hmm~ in the morning I had a big cup of coffee..."

Me: "Knowing you and your stomach must have been a headache to endure that smell at work"

Boyfriend: *PFFTFTFTFTFTFTFT* "ugh, not at all, I thought I was going to shit about half an hour later, but hmmm~ it just didn't happen"

Me: "Really?"

Boyfriend: "No, it's hard to believe, but since the morning not a single fart came out, and I ate hot wings at lunch"

Me: "That would explain the dark brown color of those drops I saw..."

Boyfriend: "I thought that would make hmmmmm~ *PFTFTFTFT* go straight to the bathroom, but it didn't give a solution *PRRRRRRRRRR* I even heard several colleagues and even the boss destroy the office bathroom"

Me: "I can imagine the desperation of those poor men, but I am aware that out of all of them you would make the greatest disaster."

Boyfriend: "I'm happy I didn't at least touch those bathrooms with hot, sweaty toilet lids"

Me: "And it looks like someone else is happy too, doesn't it?"

His penis was completely erect, apparently the massages relaxed him enough so that the stress goes away and he can enjoy this in a more free and sexual way.

Boyfriend: "Like I told you, I can't control my body" *GRRRRRRRRRR*

Me: "Would you mind if...?"

Boyfriend: "Don't ask and do it!"

I lowered my head directly to his crotch, down there it smelled worse and I could see how the clear water of the toilet had small brown dots indicating that all the farts were wet.

I asked his to get up a little from the toilet, then I put my left hand behind me and started to touch his sweaty butt feeling how my hand gets hotter and hotter thanks to the oven generated inside the toilet.

*PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PRRRRR* *PFFTFTFFF* *PPPPFTFTFTFFFFFTTTTTT*

Boyfriend: "oops, I hope it doesn't bother you..."

Me: "~Not at all~"

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Boyfriend: "Fuck, I don't think I will resist for long"

Me: "Please, we've had sex longer than this."

Boyfriend: "I don't mean that! I mean my stomach, it's starting to burn."

Me: "Be a man and endure like one"

Boyfriend: "I'll expel everything and we'll continue with this later"

Me: "That wasn't the love deal, and you know it~"

I could smell it, the smell of despair, he began to sweat more and I could feel drops of sweat falling on my hair and arms as he slowly lost control.

*PFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PFTFTFFFFTFTPPPPPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTTTT* *PRRRRTRRRRRR*

Boyfriend: "hmmmmm~ my stomach hurts a lot, please release me my love"

Me: "No, I want you to break a world record"

Boyfriend: "And I'll break it, but it'll be the size of the largest human excrement."

Me: "In your case they will have to weigh it in liters, by your farts you can tell that it will be liquid"

Boyfriend: "ohhh.... Please *PFTFTFTFTFTFT* I can't anymore... *PRRRRRRRR* More! *TRRRRRRRRRRR*"

Notice how his farts became more and more violent, in a few seconds his stomach will not resist and the great wall of his sphincter will break giving way to the brown army.

Me: "You're sweating a lot..."

Boyfriend: "I know hahaha... but please, I can't resist much longer..." *PFFFTTTT* *GRRRRRRRRRR*

I raised my head and went to his lips and began to kiss him passionately, the atmosphere was heavy, it was very hot and even the smell had flooded the small room. When our lips parted, he said to me: 

Boyfriend: "I'm sorry Babe"

I passed so fast that I could hardly react, the first explosion echoed off the walls and I instinctively lowered my head to see the fireworks on the front page:

*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFFTTTT* *TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *GRRRRRR* *PFFFFFTTTTTT* *PFFFFFFFFFFFTTFTTF*

He doesn't stop moaning, while from my perspective I can see a large fountain staining the white porcelain of the toilet that I always worry about seeing it clean, but still I don't care at all, I can always clean it at any time, but this doesn't happen again, or at least I've never experienced it before.

*SQHSQHQSHSQHSSSHSHSHSHHHHHHHHH* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PRRRRRRRRRRRR* *TRRRRRRRR* *BLRRRRRSSSHHHHHHH* *PFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT* *PFFFFTT* *PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Jet after jet fell impacting the water like a strong hurricane into the ocean, the few solid pieces looked like meteorites causing large explosions of brown water as they crashed into the large polluted ocean.

Boyfriend: "oh... wow, I've never shit like this in my life *GRRRRRRRRR* ughhhh"

*PFFFFFTTFTFTFTFTFF* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *SHQHQSHQSHQSHSSSHHSHSHQSHQSHSQQSQQSQS* *FFFFFFFTTTTTTTPPPPPPPP* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *SQSTSQRQSRSSSRSRSRQQQRQRQRRRRRRRRRRR*

Me: "I know, it was amazing, don't you think?"

Boyfriend: "Sure"

Me: "Now, do you want me to clean you down there?"

Boyfriend: "Of course"

[superiorsturgeon]

Previous:

Blake: *has the dorm to herself, nestled into her bed with a tuna sandwich and a good book, firmly in her happy place*

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Blake: *gets up with a sigh and opens the door* It never fails…right when I get comfortable! 😒

Ren: Hello, Blake.

Blake: Ren? Did you need something? Where’s Nora?

Ren: That’s…actually why I’m here. May I come in?

Blake: Um, okay, I guess? What’s wrong?

Ren: *suddenly uncomfortable* …so…you may have noticed that Nora and I are…somewhat close?

Blake: *stifles a snort* I hadn’t noticed?

Ren: Lately…it’s become more obvious that she wants more from our relationship…for us to be together-together…but…

Ren: …I’m not sure if I can…satisfy…her. Do you understand what I mean?

Blake: Wait, did you come to me for sex advice?

Ren: Yes, if you want to put it that way.

Blake: Sorry, Ren, but I’m not doing this again! Ninja vanish! *disappears in a puff of smoke*

———————————————————————

Blake: *ninja lands in the bushes outside the dorm window* 😮‍💨

Ren: *appears from the shadows beside her* Blake, please-

Blake: 😨

Blake: Ninja vanish! *disappears again*

———————————————————————

Blake: *slips behind a column in the courtyard*

Ren: *standing behind the column* Blake, let’s just talk for a minute!

Blake: NINJA VANISH!!

———————————————————————

Blake: *peeks over the edge of Beacon’s roof for any sign of pursuit*

Ren: *already on the roof* Blake, I can do this all day if I have to!

Blake: 😨

Blake: 😣

Blake: 😫

Blake: Fine, you win!

Blake: But I’m only doing this because you’re the most level-headed of my friends, so I’m trusting you to be careful!

———————————————————————

Nora: *groaning on ultrasound table*

Ren: *holding her hand and crying a bit*

Pyrrha/Jaune: *anxiously gathered around*

Beacon Nurse: …well, nothing seems to be ruptured, but you’ll have to eat soft foods for a while while your intestines recover.

Blake: *hiding in the vents to observe and document yet another sex accident* Holy crap, he literally rearranged her guts!

Next:

[according2thelore]

THE POCKMARKS!!!!! holy shit es!dean noticing the way ls!sam is so flinchy - bc he is, god bless jared padalecki for that - and blaming the shit out of ls!dean. es!dean trying to get the reasons why out of of ls!sam but sam just refuses to tell this kid version of his brother anything about lucifer bc he doesn’t need that burden!! AHHH.

every ask you answer is driving me insane. obsessed w your mind

YOU GET IT!!!!

LS!Sam shies away from ES!Sam&Dean's fights when they suddenly yell, he jumps when doors slam, he burns his fingers on the stove and doesn't even notice until both deans rush over to pull them off the hob.

he skirts the darkest corners of the street when they walk, and his head suddenly jerks to the side sometimes when they sit in the library like he's trying to get something out of his head.

and when ES!Dean leans in to finally, shakily kiss LS!Sam, sam presses down hard on his own left palm.

this drives ES!Dean up the fucking wall. he blames LS!Dean. how could he have failed to protect sam this severely? dean has spent his entire life on essentially one principle: look out for sam.

and LS!Dean failed. he couldn't do it. he betrayed who dean is at his very core. and he seemingly doesn't live his life in a pit of unconquerable despair. he doesn't handle sam with the care (read: little kid gloves) that he deserves. he punches sam's shoulder and roughs him up and pretends that he didn't fail sam in every conceivable way.

it's disgusting. it's pathetic.

and you bet your ass ES!Dean tries to take LS!Dean to task about it a few times. i would be surprised if LS!dean actually disputes any of the points he makes. just, "come on, kid, you don't want to do this shit with me. shut up, you don't know what you're talking about."

and when ES!Dean finally can't take it, he takes LS!Dean to the ground in a fit of fury. LS!Dean wins easily, but he pulls so many punches that LS!Sam asks him about it after.

he's right, and he's young, and he loves you. i want to kick my own ass about it more than once a day. i still can't process it, and he's still waiting for his voice to drop all the way. let him have it. maybe he says any of this, but he most likely doesn't.

ES!Dean begs and begs and begs LS!Sam to tell him something--anything--because this is not a sam he's used to facing. this is not a sam he can avenge. LS!Sam ruffles his hair like a child and looks at dean like he's adorable for wanting to chew through the intestines of the person that did this.

and ES!Dean is not used to not being able to fight sam's demons for him. young dean would let sam crawl into his bed when he was scared, he would offer to destroy sam's bullies, he was willing to rip every hunter limb-from-limb when they questioned sam.

but this is not a problem he can fix, and it crushes him.

sam won't tell him because he knows that it will shatter him. how can you even tell this dean, with dark freckles and shining eyes and hands shaking with adrenaline when he pulls you in for a kiss, that you spent over a hundred years being ripped apart in every single way one soul can? you can't.

it almost killed LS!Dean when it happened the first time. LS!Sam knows that even though ES!Dean begs and pleads and threatens to rip LS!Dean's dick off, that he's still so young. he thinks that azazel (still "yellow eyes" to these untried versions of themselves) is the worst thing they will ever face.

so sam demurs, and he kisses dean's forehead, and he distracts him with pieces of the future ("our best friend tried to be god, once"), but he swears that dean will never know.

and EEP! anon!!! i am obsessed with YOU!!!! these asks make my week, lol! i'm so glad you all still like these! holding your hand RIGHT NOW.

-lizzy :)

[thedo0zyslider]

Shot Through The Heart - 2k Words

Martyn plans on winning this game, but not without leaving Scott a little parting gift. One to remember him by while he bleeds out.

Tw: graphic violence, brief thoughts of suicide

There's only three people left alive on this fine day, and Martyn intends to be last one standing. In any way possible. Though the other two players might not like his ideas so much.

Scott and Impulse want a fair fight. No weapons, no tools, no tricks. A fair brawl between the three of them, and whoever wins gets crowned the victor. They're both already abandoned their weapons, healing items, and anything else deadly; their stuff being thrown into a messy pile a few feet away. Martyn isn't down with that plan in the slightest.

He keeps his sword, bucket of lava, and a golden apple on him. Everything else, armor included, is thrown in the pile with Scott and Impulse's things. They don't notice him sneaking it, Martyn being careful to not even reveal he has them in the first place. If Scott notices his best sword isn't thrown in the pile, then his ally doesn't say anything.

Impulse keeps talking, about how they should do the fight. Because he doesn't wanna get ganged up on by the two Mean Gills, obviously. Scott, for whatever reason, indulges this conversation. Maybe because indulging Impluse keeps him alive just a little longer. (Scott knows he is not living, that he's dying first. He's already won a game, and certainly doesn't win again. No one would.) Martyn doesn't say anything, just crosses his arm over his chest and waits.

He doesn't care how this fight goes. He already knows it's not going to be fair, and who the winner will be.

Martyn shifts closer to his teammate, doing so as discreetly as possible. Thankfully, Impulse is too absorbed in his chattering to notice, and Scott is almost as committed to listening as their enemy is to talking. Almost.

A red eye watches him, moving to study him every few seconds as its owner chats back with Impulse. A fin twitches curiously and a siren tail flicks with curiosity. Martyn knows, that whatever Scott suspects him of doing, his teammate will let him get away with. Martyn doesn't think he's ever loved anyone more than he does in that one moment.

Scott glances at him one last time, gets a glimpse of the sword he's still hiding behind his back, and Martyn knows it's time.

He grabs Scott, hand resting firmly on the back of his head, and kisses him. His teammate kisses back. A moment later Martyn thrusts his arm forward and shoves a sword through his stomach. Surprisingly, Scott doesn't pull away, just gasps and keeps kissing him. Martyn thinks he kisses harder, actually.

The kiss feels like it goes on forever. It doesn't last long enough. It's messy, and there's blood in Scott’s mouth. Martyn doesn't care. He wants to make the most of it while he still can, even if it means he has to taste iron. He pulls Scott closer, ignoring the sounds of flesh and organs tearing beneath his sword, and bites his bottom lip. Scott doesn't even react to the pain he's most definitely in. Instead, he buries his hands in Martyn’s hair and tugs it as his intestines get torn in two.

Damn, that's hot. Martyn thinks, pulling his weapon out of Scott’s stomach as quickly as he'd shoved it in. His ally almost crumples to the floor, only held up by the hand holding his head and another gripping at his bloody waist. Martyn, now supporting all of Scott’s weight, probably needs to stop thinking that killing people and blood are insane attractive. At least for the moment.

They pull away after a few moments and a lifetime, and that's when Impulse's screams of horror register in Martyn’s head. That's when he remembers he has a job to do, and a game to win. Even if making out with Scott till he dies would be just as fun, if not better.

"I love you." He mumbles, bumping their noses together one last time. His hair falls in his face, loose from the bandana and from being pulled at. His lips have blood on them, his allys blood. He licks if off. It tastes like death.

"I know." Scott whispers, his voice shaky. He knows Martyn loves him, because he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't. It's the worst part about this.

After that, Martyn lets go of him. He lets go, and lets Scott fall to the ground; dying. He watches him bleed out for a minute, watches the life drain from his eyes. Then Martyn moves his gaze to Impulse, suddenly getting a burst of energy. He thinks thats the finally adrenaline is kicking in.

Impulse sees the murderous intent in Martyn’s eyes, and does the only sensible thing an unarmed man can do. He runs. In the opposite direction, because Martyn is kinda blocking his path to the disgraced weapons and armor. Though this just makes the final confrontation all the more entertaining. For one of them, anyways.

"Aw come on Impulse!" Martyn teases, running after his last enemy. Impulse is surprisingly fast when he wants to be. The blonde wasn't expecting to sprint after him this much. "You don't wanna miss out on the fun, do you?"

"I do, actually!" Impulse yells over his shoulder, skidding carelessly down the side of mountain they're on. Martyn skids after him, more determined than he's maybe ever been. He is not letting this guy get away, especially not after stabbing his kiss buddy. Or boyfriend. Or whatever they'd been before Martyn drove a sword through Scott’s torso.

Point is, if Impulse wanted to escape, he should've done that before meeting them near the clocktower. As soon as they all stood together, it was over for him, one way or another. Martyn was always going to make sure of that.

He chases after Impulse for a few minutes longer, not really gaining on him like he wants to. But then, in his haste, Impulse stumbles, and Martyn’s right behind him and suddenly aware the bucket of lava still on his person. Then Imlulse gets away again, but not for much longer.

Martyn throws the lava out of the bucket, hoping for a lucky shot. And luckily for him, some of scalding magma lands right on his opponents heel. Impulse screams, and falls to the ground. Martyn takes his chance, and springs at him, wrestling his fellow player under him.

He would've been a fool not to take such an easy opportunity to win, and Martyn is not a fool. Sure, the blonde's a lot of things, but a fool has never been one of them, and it never will be.

He manages to tackle Impulse to the ground, and straddles him almost immediately. If they're both gonna die soon, why not have some fun with this? Even if what Martyn considers "fun" right now is pretty subjective. Well, subjective for Impulse, anyways.

But, it was rude to play with your food, so he won't drag this out too long. He might be a murderer, but Martyn still has manners.

"Caught you~" He hums, placing a hand on Impulse's cheek. Like a lover might do. Though there's nothing loving about this exchange. It's all the opposite of love, rather fittingly. Or maybe this is ironic. Martyn wouldn't know, he was never really the poetic type (Assuming that flirting with someone before killing them is poetic, of course)

Impulse doesn't say anything, just tries to kick him off instead. He fails at this miserably, by the way. Kicking doesn't really work when half of your left leg has been eaten by lava. And when you're being straddled. Basically all of Martyn is outside of kicking range.

When that plan doesn't work, Impulse tries to grab at him instead. Martyn pins both of his wrists down with a free hand. He does it embarrassingly quick, too. It's almost like Impulse isn't even trying. The fact that he probably is trying, and trying his best at that, just makes it sadder.

"Cute." The blonde hums, grabbing for the sword he'd stashed around his waist. His hand leaves Impulse's cheek in the process, and the ither one keeps the brunette held down. Martyn would like to keep whatever homoerotic thing he has going, but to do that he'd risked being punched. And also his opponent escaping. Which would be less than ideal for him, but very good for Impulse.

And we can't be having that, now can we?

This really was disappointing. Impulse was usually so good at these games. He'd even outlived Martyn before! He thought that killing this guy would've been harder, involved a little more banter maybe. Martyn thought it would've been more changling then betraying Scott, even. But, no, it turns out he was wrong.

Oh well, no one can be right all the time, can they? Besides, an final kill made for an easy victory! And Martyn had grown quite tired of losing and being someone else's easy final kill. A little role reversal hadn't hurt anyone......except that it had! Whoops! Sorry not sorry, Scott and Impulse!

Impulse makes a sound under him, drawing Martyn out of his admittedly crazed thoughts. The sound he makes comes out scared, fearful, even. Martyn pins his wrist down harder, brings the sword closer, and can't help relishing in his neighbors final moments.

"Shame," Martyn says, titling Impulse's chin upwards with the hilt. It takes a lot to not lean in and give him a quick peck of the lips. Scott probably wouldn't be happy if his kiss buddy was kissing someone else, after all. Or maybe he wouldn't have minded. His old teammate had been a self described whore. "Looks like you're joining in on the fun after all."

He stabs a sword through Impulse's chest without another word or warning, and it's all over. Everything's over. The game is over. Martyn has finally won this thing, just like he's been planning to. Though he has to say, a final chase and kiss-stabbing his only ally hadn't been in the plan, but they did make for a damn good final act.

He stands, taking his sword out of Impulse's chest and throwing it to the ground. He shouldn't need it anymore. If Martyn had any armour on him, he would've thrown that away too. There's nothing left for him to fight. Not anymore, not now that he's a winner.

Though actually winning the death game is going a lot different, and a lot less dramatically, than he anticipated.

Marytn is expecting to die once he's the last one alive. He's expecting to die almost immediately after Impulse does. He doesn't. He stands there, waiting for something to happen. He doesn't know what he's waiting for, exactly, but he expects something. A flash of lighting as the gods strike him down, randomly falling over dead out of nowhere, maybe even a random arrow to the head.

But nothing happens.

The adrenaline, the thrill of the hunt, drains away from his body, but nothing happens. Martyn stands there, probably looking like an idiot, because what's supposed to be happening isn't happening! He's supposed to be dead and nothing is happening. He thought you died like, instantly once you won. That's what Scott had said. So why is he still here?

Martyn pulls up his timer, and quickly figures out why. It hasn't stopped ticking. The clocks hand is still moving. Most likely, he has to wait for it to reach zero, and then death will take him. Because of course he does. Because of course the universe won't let him die easily. It'll let everyone else die easily but not him! That's exactly like something They would do, isn't it?

Martyn stuffs his timer back in his pocket with a grumble. He still has over an hour left. About an hour and a half, to be exact. An hour and half before the universe let's him die. Or, an hour and a half to pull a Grian and kill himself. (Though he might need a sand mountain to jump from if he really wants to call it "pulling a Grian..")

Martyn doesn't know which one would be more painful, waiting or just getting it over with. And he isn't particularly excited to find out. Maybe, if he waits, They'll be nice and ket him die in his sleep or something. There's a low chance of that happening, realistically, but it's not a bad thought to entertain.

He starts walking away from Impulse's body after that, elaborate ways of suicide running through his head. If Martyn does decide to kill himself, he has over an hour to make the most unique suicide method humanity's ever seen. Doing a noose would be boring, especially after the show he just gave. If Martyn’s going to kill in style, he won't exclude himself from dying spectacularly. Wouldn't make him much of a showman if he did.

But, before Martyn decides how he's going to die, he has one last thing to do. It's why he started backtracking back towards their meeting spot, the clocktower coming into better view again. It's why he walked away from Impulse's body, and straight back towards his teammates.

He crouches next to Scott’s body, running a hand through blue hair. He looks so small like this, so small and lifeless. Martyn feels himself getting all sad over his....teammate being dead, so he stops thinking about it. There's nothing to be sad over, not anymore.

He had won the game, after all.

Scott’s eyes, lifeless like the rest of him, stare up unmoving at the sky. There's a small smile on his face and blood dripping from his mouth. His fatal injury has stopped bleeding, leaving a large pool around him. Martyn’s getting blood all over his pants. Normally, he would avoid doing that, since blood was so hard fo clean from clothes. Now he doesn't see a reason too. Might as well get his clothes as bloody as possible, while he still has time left to do that.

He'd been told that blood looked good on him a long time ago, last time he wore the banner wrapped around hid waist. Martyn can't say he disagrees.

Speaking of the banner, he takes it off and kays it over his fallen allys stomach. Where the stab wound was. It wasn't very nice to look at it. If Scott were still here, he'd be complaining about how ugly it was and how Martyn had let him look like that.

But he isn't here anymore, because Martyn won.

He covers the wound as if he was.

"Bye, Scott." He says, closing his teammates eyelids. He doesn't go back and do the same for Impulse. Martyn doesn't even think about Impulse's body once I leaves it. He doesn't think about Scott’s once he's off the mountain, either. He can't think about them anymore. There's no reason too. He'd won everything. Why think about and regret the people he'd killed to get there? They were already dead, and there was no turning back time.

Though the thought of time does remind him of somewhere he needs to go. His resting place, maybe, if he's so unlucky enough. Unlucky, because he can't think of anywhere better or worse to die.

The blonde stops walking towards the trees, and changes directions to the beach instead. He gets there in no time at all, and Martyn is reminded of how horribly small this map is and how horribly close the last two bodies truly are to him.

(Maybe this is the part that's romantic or poetic or ironic of whatever. Martyn wouldn't know. He was never very good with understanding stories.

Maybe he should've been.)

Martyn gets back to their island, and throws himself into their giant timer that Scott had made. He doesn't even hear the glass break as he falls, only the ocean waves laping at the shore. Shards stab at his skin, tearing it open, but Martyn doesn't even care. The sooner he bleeds out the sooner he dies, and gets whatever punishment is coming to him. The wooden top of the timer falls into the sand beside him. Martym wishes it had crushed him instead.

He lays there, teammate and final enemy gone and lifeless less than a mile away. He lays there with Scott’s blood still on his lips and coating his plants. He lays there with Impulse's blood on his hand and shirt and sword he forgot to throw into the ocean. He lays there with an empty bucket and a golden apple on him, and what feels like too much red to wash away.

Martyn lays there, a winner lying in broken glass and red sand, and lets the high tide take him.

[desolationblvd]

THE THING / RULES / PENETRATION

I guess it was my fault that you let me in, all puppydog eyes and wagging tail, just one warm body, an endearing deception. I am man’s best friend. Don’t you love me? Okay, so I’m man himself. Don’t you want me? Sorry, I’m not supposed to say that. I’m still figuring it all out, you know? I shouldn’t have said it, because I know you’re frightened, but fear is natural to me. I’m not used to avoiding it. I’m not used to helping others avoid it. I’m not used to rules. I’m not used to denial of the body. Where I come from, it’s so cold, all the time. The blood freezes over. Where I come from, it is natural to know what your insides look like. It frightens me that according to the rules the body must be denied. I am man and I am your best friend; do you remember me? I could be so many things to you if you weren’t so frightened of me. So what, I’ve inhabited a few bodies. Who hasn’t? So maybe I destroy before I invade. People have come to believe that invasion comes before destruction in the natural order of things. They like to know when they should surrender. I like to make it all clear from the start. Or maybe not. The body is just a formality. I try to make a clean incision but sometimes I burst in. Or maybe out. I don’t mean to make a mess, it just happens. Organs are a formality. The stomach can burst and the intestines can unravel but I don’t need them. I’m sorry that I want to make myself in your image. Being with and being without are different from just being. It’s a matter of having something versus becoming it. I don’t want you, I want to become you. Or maybe it isn’t an either/or situation, and I want you so badly that the only way to reconcile the hunger is to become you. I cannot translate that into anything less frightening, but it’s still not what you hear.

Here is what you witness: I look at you with human eyes and I reach out to you and you take my hand. Your skin/my skin/our flesh, there isn’t much of a difference right now. You can feel my skin, human skin, rough versus soft in all the right places, and if you hold my wrists carefully enough you might feel a pulse. And I open my human mouth to speak to you, and I have all the right teeth in all the right places, glistening with spit in the snow/reflection/sun. And with my human throat I pull words from my gut, words far too alien for you to understand, a story of wanting and belonging and becoming, and all that you can hear is I want to be inside you.

[lenaariewrld]

dream girl

matsukawa issei ending・ᡣ𐭩

The breeze was cool against your warmed skin, dancing past you, caressing the blades of grass as it went and tickling your legs. It was mostly quiet, birds and bugs chirping and singing in the trees or around you. You weren’t sure when you’d laid down, your back relaxing against the soft blanket, but it felt peaceful. And it felt right when Mattsun laid next to you, his arms folded behind his head.

Your skin buzzed with electricity, a steady thrumming current under the surface as your nerves picked up every millimeter where his skin touched yours. His shoulders against yours, his thigh brushing against your hip, his shoe tapping against your calf on occasion. But it didn’t make you feel on edge. No, instead you felt… safe.

You and Mattsun stared up at the sky in retrospective silence, letting the peace of nature be undisturbed except for your breaths and the music that was barely audible from Mattsun’s phone. The sun had set low, barely any light in the sky and allowing the velvety curtain of nighttime to bleed into the sky. Stars sparkled into your vision the longer you looked, brightly dotting the violet canvas stretched above you. A quiet sigh of content leaves you. This was right. This was nice. It’s reassuring to just have this time, these beats of silence where you can just soak in everything and let the world pass by.

Soon enough, the fireworks began to zip into the sky. Whistles and whoops signalled different ones as they shot up outside of your vision, exploding into a flurry of colors and shapes. You and Mattsun dramatically ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at each one, giggling at the stupid gasps the other lets out. You feel your cheeks grow warm, and they hurt just a little bit from how hard you find yourself smiling, glancing between the sky and the man lying beside you. His dark eyes seem to reflect every color of the fireworks, glued to them like he was trying to map it all in his mind.

When it all ends, you both remain on the blanket for another minute or two. The wind was tinged with the faint smell of gunpowder and ash, making your nostrils burn if you breathed too deeply.

“Mm, I almost forgot,” With a grunt, Mattsun sits up. He stretches his back and you watch as he turns to pull his bag onto his lap, sitting yourself up as well. You chuckle as he digs around in the bag.

“More surprises?”

He tosses you a playfully stern look, finally taking out whatever he’d been looking for. He places a small paper lantern, folded flatly for the time being, between the both of you. “A bunch of students release these after the fireworks show,” He says quietly, his voice small. Your eyes remain on his face, even as he looks at the lantern or around at the mostly empty field you two find yourselves in. You can’t see as well in this low lighting as you’d like, but you can tell he was blushing, the dark flush to his cheeks obvious to you.

“It’s this… tradition we have,” He adds, turning the lantern around in his hands, finding a blank spot. “We write our names on the inside before we light it and send it out, and it’s supposed to help grant wishes or bring good luck to whoever’s name is in the lantern.” He finally lifts his eyes to look at you, and you’re sure that your face must look about as brightly red as his does the way you feel butterflies erupting in your intestines, flurrying around your stomach like crazy. “I thought it would be a good idea for you to write your name down,” He holds out the lantern to you.

A moment passed between the both of you.

Hesitantly, you reach out, your fingers curling around the delicate paper and holding it closer to yourself. Mattsun had always been sweet. He was weird and his tone was sometimes too serious to tell if he was joking, but it added charm, and he never failed to make it clear that he meant no ill will towards you. He cut off any worries before your brain even had the chance to sprout them. He was good at reading you.

Somehow, in all the time you’d spent with Mattsun, he’d figured out a way to decipher your alphabet, memorized every line on every page of your being, and surmised how to handle you. Like he’d known you for years, and it was just so natural for the two of you to mesh. You blink slowly, your thumb caressing the lantern. “We should write yours too..” You say in a whisper, your voice barely carrying above the wind. Mattsun remains quiet, his teeth dragging against his bottom lip.

“Okay,”

“I know the tradition here..” You add, taking the pen he digs out and allows you to take. You begin by writing his name, careful to make your writing extra pretty for no reason than because you wanted to. “And I think we both deserve some good luck,” You smile, and catch his gaze, the way his grin is crooked on his face and his eyes are staring at you lazily, taking in your aura and your presence as easily as breathing.

You finish writing your names and cap the pen, holding it in your mouth as you unfold the lantern. It wasn’t much bigger than a loaf of bread when it was all said and done, with a small hole at the top, the bottom fitted with a loop of wire to hold the lantern’s flame perfectly in the middle. “Here,” You let him take the lantern to hold it. You feel metaphorical sparks when his fingers brush against your own, a glow seeming to grow in the air that separates you two. It’s bright and almost suffocating, but it wasn’t tense. It wasn’t bad.

Mattsun wordlessly pulls out a lighter and finds the wick for the lantern. A soft yellow flickering grows from inside the paper, and soon enough the tiny lantern is lifting out of the man’s hand, floating up and away from the two of you.

You watch it slink away into the night.

Your lips part in shock as you spot more lanterns, all varying in shape, size, and color, starting to rise into the sky, peeking out from trees or other spots in the field, or drifting from even further along. Carried by the wind to join the others. A feeling rises in your chest, a contentness you’d only felt in small blips or pieces. Times when you looked back and found a pocket of time where you felt truly happy and in your place. Mattsun leans over to bump his shoulder against yours. “What’s rattlin’ in that head?” He asked, the silly phrasing making you laugh softly. Airy.

“I think I like you,” You admit, feeling no hesitation or worry about admitting it. It felt like saying any other fact about yourself, like sharing what your favorite fruits were, or that you preferred one kind of dessert over another. Or that you, for all intents and purposes, had developed a crush on the man.

Mattsun smiles again, his teeth poking from beneath his lips. “I knew already,” His tone is as light as yours, “You were kind of obvious,” He adds. A raucous laugh rips from him when you shove his shoulder hard enough to knock him on his side, giggling all the while as you throw out a noncommittal ‘shut up’. He rolls onto his side, his laughter only growing. He takes a deep breath a second later and reaches out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. You grunt from the unexpected movement, falling onto his chest.

“I like you too,” He whispers, one of his arms snaking around your waist and keeping you pressed to him. You relax and fold your arms above his chest, your chin on your hands. “So much,” He adds, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear.

“I know,” As all you say, your tone teasing but nonetheless incredibly soft. It was all you needed in that moment, just to hear him say he’d known and felt it too. You hum as he chuckles, and the both of you fall silent again. This time, you let him stare up at the sky, closing your eyes and pressing your cheek against his chest. You feel his heartbeat underneath your palms, and hear it in your ears. A steady, assured rhythm that seems to calm at the same time you do, urging you to relax further into him. This was where you needed to be…

| three years later...

———

previous | masterlist

extras:

y/n and mattsun spent the most time out of all the aoba johsai guys together bc they got along so easily (but all of them were close)

mattsun entirely lied abt what the others were up to so it could just be him and y/n

taglist: closed

[mina-scribbles]

of gods & monsters

Summary:

Since the dawn of Olympus, Titans have become nothing more than footnotes in divine history, leaving them to roam the earth with no purpose for eternity.

You are the primordial goddess of love, and in present-day Greece, in the golden time of the Olympians, no one utters your name anymore. But occasionally, someone remembers, or the Fates suddenly decide that you have some purpose left in the threads of your immortal life.

It is one of those occasions where you find yourself called to a cave where a monster lies with his fresh kill.

Forgotten as you are, you are still the goddess of love, and to love is what duty tells you to do.

Notes:

I got the idea from references that say Eros is the primordial god of love, but then replaced him with Aphrodite. Just--y'know, creative liberties, and whatnot.

Hurt/comfort & angst & feels ahead. This is purely self-indulgent faffing as I loved the thought of having someone comfort Seraphim in a non-sexual way, you know? So, nothing spicy at all. Just--softness.

Unbeta'd btw, so yuh. Hope you enjoy !!

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

The sharp tang of blood greeted you the moment you stepped into the cave. 

You’d seen this before - scattered intestines, cracked and jagged parts of a skull, a femur here, an ulna there, a spine torn in two strewn across the cavern floor - yet you still couldn’t hold in a gasp. 

This of course drew seraphim’s attention, who knelt by the mangled remains of his uncle, a puddle of blood under his knees. 

Quicker than any human, he rose to his feet and whirled around, teeth bared and eyes ablaze. In one bloody hand, he clutched his bident, both tips still gleaming crimson.

This should’ve insulted you, made you bristle. Any god, titan or olympian, would have struck him where he stood for even daring to defy powers greater than himself, a puny human desperately trying his hand at godhood. it was pathetic, really. 

But at your core, you were what creation intended; you were the personification of love and all its nuances - the warmth and chaos of it all, the unconditional acceptance of the insanity that came with loving and the loved. this was your essence since you dawned alongside the universe, birthed long before the concept of humanity was even imagined; the primordial goddess of love, a titan of no equal. Even when you’ve been made obscure and obsolete, this was still your duty as divinity. 

And so, standing before seraphim now, soaked in gore with his humanity barely visible anymore, you saw. 

Somehow, he did, too. his features grew less sharp, transforming his snarl into a grimace as he leered at you. “Another god.” He spat the words like a curse. 

“Titan,” you corrected. “And I mean no harm.”

Recognition dawned on his face. But you’d seen this before - recognition for the sword but not its wielder. This time, however, you refused to let disappointment settle in your stomach. It wasn’t his fault.

Neither of you moved. Your gaze darted to his crimson-tipped bident, and he to your form. The questions were easily recognizable in his eyes - who were you? why were you here? 

With a breath, you decided and stepped forward. Seraphim watched you approach. Your dress trailed behind you, red blooming along the white, silken hem.

When you were a foot away from him, you extended a hand between you. “Come,” you said. “You need rest.”

He eyed it like it was a snake about to strike. 

So you tried again. “Take your rest before Hera finds you again.” 

At the mention of the goddess’s name, Seraphim growled, and you gasped when the cold tip of his bident pressed under your chin. This forced you to look up into his red gaze, your stomach churning at the miasma of bitterness and revenge swirling within them. 

“Gods, titans, you’re all the same,” he spat. “We’re nothing more than playthings to you. like pawns on a board that you move and summon to your liking. when have any of you answered our prayers? where are any of you when we beg for your aid, your mercy?”

With a snarl that rivaled his, you answered, “Am I not an answered prayer? Have I not come at a moment of need?”

“You all come when you please.”

“I come when I can,” you hissed, unable to quell your outrage. What do you do when you were nothing but mythos? When the best you got was a passing thought because you were merely a footnote?

When they came, the prayers came few, until eventually there were none.

People had more faith in rocks and earth. You? Your existence was too irrelevant to even question.

Your tongue was a weight of all the spite and bitterness festering within you, the antithesis of your essence.  You could’ve said more, could’ve made him see all that you had seen. But that would shatter him irreparably, and you couldn’t do that. that wouldn’t be very lovely, not when you were love itself. Not when you were supposed to love. 

And you wanted to love in spite of it. 

You were the chaos of it all, and so you understood. And with you, he would, too. In time. 

So for now, quietly, you added, “Trust me, boy, you are not the only one the fates have abandoned.”

This—this broke him. His eyes dimmed and his form slumped, as if the weight of his bident suddenly became too heavy. Then, as if just seeing for the first time, his gaze darted all over himself, at the blood smattered across his chest and over his arms. 

“I—“ he began, features rapidly shifting between grief and anger, and when he couldn’t decide, he finally, finally looked at you. “Hera will come looking for me.”

“She will.”

You read emotions as one would read letters on a page. And with his realization came the brief flash of fear -- bitter and sharp -- before emptiness took its place once more. Beneath it all, however, was the undercurrent of anger, a steady thrum while everything else ebbed and flowed.

A pause, and then, in a whisper, “He’s dead. He’s really dead.”

When you touched his cheek, images played in your mind — a mother and a boy against a world of greedy men, of gods and prayers, of swords and blood, of a yawning hopelessness and a desperation like teeth chewing through flesh.

All these just past a void, a wall of nothingness acting as a barrier between the memories and the red haze of anger facing the world. monsters hiding monsters. 

“I know,” you answered just as softly, pressing closer. seraphim leaned into your touch—not out of want but out of necessity, and oh how your skin tingled. To be wanted. To be needed. And when he stepped further into your space, a soldier laying his burdens as seraphim rested his forehead against your shoulder, your very soul thrummed. Your arms wrapped around him, one hand carding through the hairs in his nape while the other trailed down his arm, to the hand circled loosely around his bident. "you need rest."

Hot breath fanned against your collarbone. "And in exchange for rest?"

Seraphim's muscles grew taught under your touch. A man awaiting judgment.

Skin to skin, the images became clearer, the sensations stronger--of your muscles straining to keep you standing, of hard rock digging into your knees as a force pushed you down.

You grit your teeth. You wanted, yes. But not that. Once, maybe. But not today. Not for a long while.

Cupping his cheek so he gazed up at you, you said, "Nothing you would not wish to give. And I have nothing I wish to take."

With your thumb, you swiped at the blood on his cheek. His skin was warm to the touch. Maybe, maybe, he was human still.

His gaze darted over your features, your eyes, your lips, and you barely stayed the shiver creeping up your spine as you pulled your hand back, allowing him privacy to his thoughts, for here was a man frozen in awe at the face of kindness.

"I will be a better god," you swore to yourself as a fist clenched around your heart.

Seraphim seemed to gather himself as he rose to his full height. His free hand twitched at his side before slowly taking yours.

"Where do we go?" He asked.

"Wherever you wish."

Together, you walked in contemplative silence toward the mouth of the cave. High above, the sun's glare was brilliant. It warmed your skin, and glimpses of a chariot burning across the heavens flashed in your mind. Most knew the sun god by another name. You knew him as a titan. And for him, for them, you would remember.

Seraphim pulled you from your thoughts when he said, "I do not have a place to come home to."

His skin shone like obsidian in the light, the smattered blood gleaming hotly as the red marks along his skin. "There is a wooden hut not far from here. It's not much, but it can be home." If you would like.

It remained unspoken, but when he squeezed your hand, you knew he understood.

[christinesficrecs]

hi christine! hope you're well. I was wondering if you knew any fics where Stiles thinks Derek doesn't like him but is actually in love with him? Or if you had a tag for it, could you direct me to it? I looked at your tag page and didn't see it but I definitely could've looked over it. Thank you so much!

Sure! You could also try the enemies to lovers tag.

Landslide by reillyblack | 25.5K | Mature

Beautiful? Check. Dismissive? Check. Hated him? Double check.

Stiles was doomed to develop a crush of epic proportions.

The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me (Is You) by distortedreality | 17.9K | Explicit

Derek is fairly certain the new kid is either an incubus or a witch. Turns out he’s actually his mate. Stiles is 98% certain the brooding guy in the leather jacket is fantasizing about stringing him up by his intestines. Turns out he’s also wrong.

A Wild Heart's Desire by mikkimouse | 13.4K

If there's one thing Stiles Stilinski knows, it's that Deputy Derek Hale absolutely Does Not Like him. The only reason Derek even tolerates him is because their kids are worryingly codependent.

So Stiles is understandably confused when a very feral Derek shows up in his backyard after a call gone wrong and proceeds to move in with him.

Between the Drinks and Subtle Things by yodasyoyo | 4.4K

He holds up his free hand, eyes still closed. “One second,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m just taking a moment to mourn the fact that we could have been fucking since–” He cracks open an eye and glares at Derek.

“Freshman year,” Derek supplies. “I’ve pretty much had the biggest crush on you since our freshman year.”

erroneous manoeuvres by slippingfromreality | 5.3K

“Hey, Stilinski!”

Stiles clenches his teeth. “What do you want, Hale?” he shouts back, not bothering to turn around. The smug smirk that’s most likely waiting for him is already seared into his mind from overexposure.

“A date!” the answer comes, still as loud, and most of the bystanders giggle or snort in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles rolls his eyes. This is the third time this week. He’d complain that Hale’s jokes are getting pretty stale, but he’d probably be milking this situation for all that it’s worth, too, if their roles were reversed. “Wrong aisle,” he grouses back, “try the bakery section. I hear they have fresh tarts.”

Fireman Derek's Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by owlpostagain | 17.6K

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.

"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. "Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

Broken Nose | 3K

Stiles is convinced that Jock-y Derek Hale hates him. It takes an accidental injury at the beach to turn that all upside down.

Laying Groundwork by 10.9K | Explicit

The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there's this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it's the latter.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 5 of These Are Not Our Masks!

@daboyau

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

@burritello3000

Leo stands there, limbs posed unnaturally like his joints aren’t working right. His hand is wrapped tight around the hilt of one of his katanas.

“Heyyyy, what’s going on here? This a party? Without me?”

April holds Donnie close, protectively.

“Leo, try to remember. We’re friends! You don’t want to hurt me!”

Leo slowly tilts his head, very close to being too far.

“Friends don’t take things that aren’t theirs.”

“Why do you care about me taking Kendra’s headphones!?” April asks in confusion.

“I wasn’t talking about the headphones.” He hisses, mask aimed in Donnie’s direction.

April’s face pales.

Nothing could have prepared her for just how far gone Leo is. Donnie was still somewhat familiar. She could find traces of him still in there.

There wasn’t anything like that with Leo right now.

“L-Leo-“

“Not. Leo. You’re playing with Artemis! I’m all about the hunt.” He cackles before tossing his katana like a throwing knife.

April has to move away from Donnie to be able to avoid it. The katana sticks into the ground between them.

She stands up to try to defend the both of them.

Leo takes that as a challenge.

He portals behind her, grabbing at her hair poofs tightly. She reaches back to get him to let go but it only results in the poofs getting tugged on. April grunts in pain as her head is pulled back.

“Leo! Let go!”

Leo places his foot square in the middle of her back and pulls again, harder. April shouts in pain this time.

“You need to stop.” Donnie suddenly insists.

Leo tilts his mask down at him again and swiftly kicks April across the room. In his hands remain the yellow hair ties from her poofs that he drops like they’re nothing.

“Finally. Took you longer than I thought for you to try to help your “best” friend. Why are you hesitating, Apollo!? That gets you killed in battle!”

“You’ve gone too far. Even with these masks. What…what is wrong with you?”

Leo hums slightly and suddenly lunges, grabbing at the headphones.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!? Would it kill you to listen!? Maybe you can’t because of these.”

Donnie’s demeanor changes again.

“Please….please, Leo, don’t take the headphones. The voice finally stopped, it was so loud, please, just a few more minutes-!”

“Aw, you need something to drown it out? Why didn’t you say so?” Leo rips them away and screams in Donnie’s ear.

Donnie shouts in pain, tears nearly forming. His pupils slit once more and he snaps his jaw at Leo. The latter moves his hand just enough to avoid it.

“ARTEMIS! I’ll gut you and replace your intestines with 80s technology!”

Leo cackles.

“Go ahead and try, you can’t even handle condiments.” He walks over to where April landed.

She’s against the wall, holding her arm. April wishes she could be brave in this moment but she has no idea what Leo will do to her.

He reaches out to her. She moves her hurt arm away, fearing that he’ll lift her up by it. Leo hesitates for just a moment. It’s long enough for April to see and become a little hopeful

Then Leo slices open a portal under her and she screams as she falls. She lands right in the middle of a holding cell. April groans slightly at the rough landing then realizes there’s something under her.

“What….? Is this a pillow!? You knew you’d get me!?” April shouts.

Leo drops in front of the cell.

“Duh. I knew the moment we got Apollo that you would come to save him first! You wouldn’t know where to find me or Atlas, but Apollo is so predictable. And so are you. Always trying to do what you can’t.”

April glares at him.

“So you planned on my arm too?”

“Stop being a baby. We both know it’s not broken!” Leo grabs the cell bars and leans his masked face in.

“I could change that, if you want!”

April scoots the pillow back.

“Why would I want that!?”

“It could be fun!”

“That is not my idea of fun!”

Leo cackles once again and pulls away.

“Wanna know what I think is fun?”

“No!”

“Calling my brother!” Leo dangles his phone in front of the bars.

April almost slams her face against the bars to reach for it. Something tumbles out of her pocket when she does and the regret is immediate.

Leo picks her phone off the ground and April looks up him with her jaw on the floor.

“You could have just taken it from me. Why….why did you….?”

“Because. I wanted you to know it was your fault.”

April feels tears pricking at her eyes. She can’t believe how much the mask has warped him. He tricked her, and now Mikey is probably doomed. He won’t see him coming.

She sits back down and curls her knees up to her chest. There’s nothing she can do. April starts quietly crying.

Leo stands and stares for at least several minutes before walking off with the phone. Raph appears through a portal with Foot Recruit who looks worse for wear. Donnie joins the group as well after bringing the tech he was using to a storage room.

Draxum walks in a moment or two later.

“Were your missions successful?”

“I got her phone! Icarus won’t be able to hide for much longer.” Leo waves the phone around.

“We have what we need for me to keep working.” Donnie answers flatly.

“Excellent. Atlas, Foot Recruit, I don’t see the item you were supposed to find.” Draxum states, sounding disappointed already.

“We only found old movie junk-“

“I was distracted from my mission by Atlas! He put me in a car and threatened to crush me!” Foot Recruit shouts, interrupting Raph.

Draxum looks at him.

“Is this true?”

Raph nods.

Draxum approaches him with a stern look on his face. Foot Recruit smirks until he places a hand on Raph’s shoulder and smiles.

“Good work. I was worried you’d be too soft.”

Raph doesn’t react to the praise at all.

“But he threatened me! We’re partners! You should be taking my side!” Foot Recruit insists.

“If you’re my partner, you should be smart enough to realize the gap in power between you and my creations. Consider yourself lucky that he didn’t follow through and try to remember that you’re outnumbered.” Draxum removes his hand.

Foot Recruit stands there, dumbstruck. Leo makes how he plays with his katanas obvious as his mask is aimed in her direction.

“…..Are you saying that they’re free to harm me?” She asks, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“I’m saying that you should realize you can’t stop them from doing so. Artemis, Atlas, come with me. I will prepare Icarus’ mask.” Draxum orders, walking out of sight.

Raph and Leo follow behind.

Foot Recruit glances at Donnie. They’re alone in the room. Uneasy doesn’t have enough weight to it for what she’s feeling. Maybe dread is a better word for it.

“He doesn’t respect you, you know.” Donnie comments.

Foot Recruit crosses her arms.

“Obviously I do! No matter how hard I work, no matter that dedication I put into what I do, no one appreciates it. No one appreciates me. Even if I’m not a mutated for war turtle, I have use!”

“Try being one with several large defects. Despite everything I’m capable of doing, I’m still seen as the one who makes mistakes others have to clean up. I’m the weak one who has to be protected if my technology fails, and everyone expects it to. The source of my DNA has never once told me he was proud, and now I look for those words from people I shouldn’t, making a complete fool of myself.“

Foot Recruit’s eyes widen. It’s not the same situation, but she knows exactly how he feels. It’s surprising that he’s being so open when they’re all supposed to be beasts.

“That’s what I’ve been doing! Our strengths are undermined for nothing. They should be building up their best soldiers, not tearing them down!”

Donnie walks closer.

“I believe I have a way to get Draxum to realize your full potential.”

“You do!? Tell me!”

Donnie smirks widely, too wide. His pupil grows smaller than ever.

“I can simply replace some of your parts. No anesthetic of course, but you’re tough, aren’t you?”

Foot Recruit takes several steps back.

“……I’m going to check on the prisoner.” She feels Donnie’s eyes stay on her as she leaves the room.

April glances up at hearing someone enter. She wipes her eyes under her glasses and glares.

“Ugh. Foot Recruit, I’m not in the mood, can’t you just leave me-“

Foot Recruit grips the bars of the cell tightly.

“We need to fix this. Normally I do not admit mistakes because I don’t make them, but this is one. If these turtles are the ones to take over the world then we are all in danger.”

April perks up slightly.

“Seriously? This isn’t a trick, is it?”

“I would never grovel as a trick!”

April smirks slightly.

“You’re scared of them.”

“No!….Perhaps. The red one almost crushed me in a car!”

“He what!?“

“Finally! Concern! Draxum celebrated it!…..The blue one was right. He is just using me. He doesn’t care what happens as long as the turtles are under him.”

“I’m sorry, Foot Recruit. I kinda got that vibe from your old bosses too.”

Foot Recruit sighs heavily.

“I should have chosen any other of the clans I was accepted to. For now we need to stop your former allies.”

April stands up.

“We have to hurry. If they get Mikey then it’s all over.”

“Why the orange one in particular?” Foot Recruit questions, getting out the keys to unlock the cell.

“You might think he’s all cute and cuddly, because he is, but I’ve also seen him throw Raph for fun and be persuaded to arson over pizza.”

“…..The red one.”

“Yes.”

“The orange one. Threw the red one.”

“Mikey can carry all of them on one arm-“

“THESE KEYS NEED TO WORK FASTER!”

“Quiet down! We don’t need everybody knowing you’re busting me out, Foot Recruit.” April steps out as the door finally opens.

“You may call me Cassandra.”

“I’m going to be honest, I totally forgot that you probably had a real name. How are we getting outta here?”

“I have a portal device. We just need to know where we’re going.”

“Todd’s puppy farm.”

“…..Are you serious?”

“Todd’s got skill, don’t judge.”

Casey rolls her eyes but opens up the portal anyways. They step through together and April runs as fast as she can. The portal closes behind them.

“Mikey! Mikey!! Don’t answer any texts that say they’re from me!”

Puppies run out at her that she has to jump over and dodge.

“April? Foot Recruit!?” Mikey shouts, pointing.

April nearly tackles him in a hug, picking him up and spinning him around.

“It’s okay, she’s on our side! I’m just glad I got here in time. Leo has my phone, he was going to text you from it to find out where you are.”

“U-Uh….April….?”

“Don’t tell me you already did.”

“N-No, but……Donnie could just track my phone.”

“…..Ah crud. Drop your phone! We gotta get you out of here! Leo and Donnie are not messing around!”

“Neither is the red one!” Casey adds.

“Aww, but I love messing!” Leo’s voice calls out.

The three non masked people group together and look around for where he’s going to appear.

He suddenly drops down between April and Mikey. They fall to the ground at the same time.

“Mikey! Run!” April shouts, trying to get up as quickly as possible.

Mikey scrambles, but he’s not fast enough. Leo grabs him and wraps his arms around him tightly.

“Where are you going!? I want some brother bonding time!”

“Leo! Please! Let go!”

“Why? After all, everyone knows I’m your favorite.”

[rel124c41]

WALT DISNEY WORMDOG II. jade leech/oc

please contact your local doctor if you are experiencing the following symptoms: prophetic dreams, the feeling that someone is calling from across the water and from across the wave, midnight visitors, scars from sand, new friendships, black blood coming out your ears but NOT your nose, inhuman strength, canine teeth on your throat, & the philosophy that we should move on from our past and never let it hold us back from the possibilities of tomorrow.

a/n: in a garden, where nothing grows and it is always dark.

tags: malleus-centric; emotional hurt/comfort; blood and gore; friendship / platonic relationship; immortality (but not really!)

word count: 1,287

It is a building with sodden floorboards, bacterial infections of moss that make up their own continents, and spiderwebs stretching on walls. A perfume spritz of palpable despair like nothing good is ever going to happen lingers heavy in the air. Ramshackled, it is a building that Malleus Draconia has found brings him fleeting flickers of comfort in an otherwise despairful life.

Yet, when arriving, someone has made a home in the dark and damp.

On the tip of Malleus’s tongue, words breathe new death instead of new life, “Although, one day, you may come to regret even looking in my direction.”

Ah but how Marion had stared!

With a rage Malleus has never been privy, his beloved Child of Man – Leaning on his sword. Cutting a mouth into an expensive, Briar Valley imported rug and its pattern. Hunched over and resisting a powerful spell that unravels fibers in his mortal shell down to the hair on his genitals and to the cavities in his teeth. Panting like a hungered beast who caught a whiff of blood in the air. – had stared unyieldingly into his soul.

His soul where it always rains.

His soul where it always is dark.

His soul where nothing grows in dark rain.

Marion refused to blink once. Both knew one mere blink would usher him into a coma. Green challenged green. The magicless challenged the second most powerful mage on Earth’s fragile, thorny intestines.

He wants to behead me, slaughter me down to my atoms, rip my arm out of its socket like we are nothing but Beowulf and Grendel dancing together at the end of the world. A lovely thought in Malleus’s head.

Marion, using the momentum from pushing himself off his claymore’s pommel hilt, raises up both his hands, fully intending to choke the last breath out of Malleus.

Good. Feel my pulse die under your fingers. My dearest friend.

“How do you know if you have a soul?”

Marion’s hair is singed down to the roots. Malleus is still trying to get used to the new look so he has to ask Marion to repeat the question, to make sure it is his voice actually talking with that new face. Sweat like gasoline on his skin, chest pounding breathlessly, the question exits out his mouth again. His burnt right hand clenches when Malleus answers.

“The fibers of a soul are founded in your philosophies and your life. Are you weighing whether you have morals or a breath?”

“I don’t think I’m alive.”

Malleus presses his ungloved palm under Marion’s shirt. Feels the rapid rabbit rhythm of his mortal heart after their training spar – battle bigger foe Silver had suggested after Marion returned from the Island of Woes. Both wounds from yellow sand and blue fire spread down his pectorals where the roots of his heart’s arteries start.

The prince’s hand feels cold like death.

“No. You are mistaken, Child of Man.”

Isn’t that a double negative?

When the tremors finally end, when everyone has fallen asleep, Malleus lays with Marion in his lap. The throne accepts both their weight like a familiar bed. Warm globs of black oscillate up and down soporific, in a pattern that mimics lava lamps. Like putting two coins over the deceased, Malleus presses a kiss on each closed eyelid.

Malleus looks at the heart in his hand with disinterest.

Everything since they all woke up has been disinteresting. It is so tedious and dull. It is like laying on a lawn-chair in summer yet being bothered relentlessly by mosquitoes and bees and flies. Malleus cannot even enjoy the sun, having to keep swatting and swatting. In the blood-scented summer air, he turns his nose up at the insects, bored. There is one clear victor and Marion (who always estimates the winner correctly) should know it well.

If he did not before, he definitely knows now. Idia can rerun the routes and calculations as much as he wants; nothing changes in the desolate dark of Malleus’s storm. Nothing grows.

Whispered under the thunder and rain, a man gurgles and spits. It is irksome like buzzing. In his vice grip, the heart clogged with blotting blood beats steady and rhythmic. Some of the arteries are still cascading in arches towards the chest this heart was taken from, like spaghetti between two different pairs of lips.

The skin of the heart is pallid bluish-black. Like what Malleus holds in his hand has been bruised continuously or has been bruised so hard that it became a tattoo upon him. Speckles of rain trail over the veiny organ in rivulets.

Disinterested, Malleus drops Marion’s heart on the ground.

i dont want to be left alone.

His jaw is blown off by a mage’s powerful spell.

I don’t want to be left alone.

The atomic blast from Styx technology blows his left arm off.

I don’t want to be left alone!

He disintegrates into asb when a clawed hand touches his nape.

I don’t want to be left alone!!

His horns are torn out of his skull by hulking hands.

I DON’T WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE!

A sword pierces his heart.

“So.” Stone crunches like leaves under his steps. “It’s just going to be us at the end of the world.”

Malleus’s green eyes are bloodshot. His marks on his forehead hurt and tense when he looks up. There is a kindness rather than poison in a humane hue of green, unlike what Malleus eyes have always been like. People fear the eyes of Malleus Draconia like he is vengeful as a vexed Medusa. Dare he even squint, people extend their strides to escape his view.

Comfortable and at home under that viridescent gaze, Marion stands in it with a smile on his blood splattered face. He rests his left hand on his hip, almost sassy with the familiar confidence his pose exhibits. Slightly to the left, a gaping hole lies in the center of his ribcage.

Malleus can see through it, Sebek rushing towards them over the demolition of Disamonia. A place where nothing grows and it is always dark.

The peephole in Marion’s rib-cage moves when he chuckles, “Not that I mind. Heh, you’re a great conversationalist. And an even greater enemy, which is good because I would have grown bored.” The wind howls. “On the edge of the universe with no one to fight.”

“Child of Man –” Malleus has no idea what to say. All the lava bubbles of ebony have collapsed and everyone is awake. How does one apologize for overblotting and tearing the still beating heart of another man’s chest?

Marion’s green-hued gaze turns sentimental and fond. Thinking they are reviewing the nicknames they have given each other, he says, “Tsunotarou.”

Despite this, the situation is not lost on Marion. Most think he is stupid at worst and a brute at best; his intelligence is always called into question. Here and now, Marion understands the gravity of the situation as the blot in his bloodstream builds him a secondary heart. The situation? Well, he is always going to be there for his dearest friend. Forever and eternal.

Squinting through the sheets of thundering rain, Marion takes in the sight of those who run towards them. His ex-boyfriend’s frantic pace, the stumbling rush of Ace and Deuce, and the absolute jackrabbiting hops of Grim who caterwauls over the storm.

But right now, it is Marion and Malleus. At the end of the world, nothing grows there and it is nebulous with darkness. Yet?

Green eyes crinkle with mirth. How wonderful to be stuck there with his dearest friend.

[macgyvermedical]

How We Found That Gosh Darned Appendix Before We Had Ultrasound Machines and CT Scans

Hi. I'm a nurse and I teach physical diagnosis. You wanna know about the appendix, right? One of the most common intestinal appendages to feature in fanfic*?

What is an Appendix?

The appendix is a hollow little worm-shaped appendage that sticks off the end of the cecum- that area between the small intestine and the large intestine.

Most of the time it's just laying there doing its thing. It's "thing" being holding an excess of gut bacteria. Most of the time that's great- the bacteria in our guts do a lot for us- many of us couldn't comfortably drink milk or get energy from calciferous vegetables without them. And we lose those bacteria all the time with diarrheal illness, antibiotics, and a host of other ways. It's a rough world for gut bacteria.

Fortunately, since the appendix has some in reserve, it can push some back out to re-populate. It's not wholly necessary for life, because those bacteria will probably show back up at some point, but it's a nice little backup system.

But with this nice little backup system full of bacteria, we also sometimes have problems. Since the opening from the appendix into the intestine is so small, it sometimes gets blocked. When that happens, the bacteria keep chugging along, making more bacteria and more waste, which builds up pressure. Eventually, that pressure inside the appendix overwhelms the blood pressure that is carrying nutrients to the appendix, and it begins to die. When the walls of the appendix get sufficiently weak, the appendix perforates, sending bacteria-filled goo into the otherwise sterile sac that holds the abdominal organs. This causes a massive infection called peritonitis that leads to death about 20% of the time (as evidenced by WWII submariner data, as this was before modern antibiotics and surgical intervention was impossible on a submarine, making this population significantly more ethical to study than alternatives).

Thinking About the Appendix:

Since about 8.6% of men and 6.4% of women will get appendicitis in their lifetime (I suppose in a quirk of statistics our non-binary pals do not get appendicitis), a 1-in-5 chance of death is pretty significant. A surgical appendectomy can drop this 20% to less than 1.8% (in adults), which makes it the intervention of choice.

But in order to surgically remove an appendix, we first have to find it. And to find it, we have to suspect it. You may hear of the "classic" symptoms being loss of appetite, pain that starts at the belly button and migrates to the lower right abdomen, nausea, and vomiting. This happens in about 50% of patients.

Everyone else is... weird. They probably have nausea and vomiting, but so does everyone else who comes in with abdominal pain, and there's a lot of things that cause abdominal pain. So it's really something to keep in the back of your head, do a couple physical maneuvers, and if they come up positive, you have like an 80% chance that it's appendicitis.

Medicine is an art, and all that.

NOTE: using a CT scan will bring your correct diagnosis rate up to about 98%, but they're hella expensive. You probably have hands, your patient probably has pain receptors. As I like to tell my students, physical diagnosis is free.

Now on to the finding. These suckers are elusive AF. Are they in front of the cecum? Behind the cecum? On the other side of the abdomen? Hanging out up under the liver? Like a foot long for some reason and causing problems in multiple places? The answer is yours to find out.

What we're looking for in trying to find the appendix is where it's causing inflammation. When the appendix gets inflamed, that inflammation spreads to surrounding structures. Since we know where those structures are, we can generally assume where the appendix is. This is important so we don't have to make a bigger hole than necessary.

What Is McBurney's Point Anyway?

Let's start by talking about McBurney's Point. It's a location that is classically referred to as where the appendix lives. That's true in about 4% of cases, though something like 64% of appendixes live within 5cm of that location, so at lest that pushes us in the right direction.

To find McBurney's Point, find your right iliac crest- that front upper bony part of your pelvis. Then draw a line from your belly button to that location. 2/3 of the way down that line is McBurney's Point.

Around this area is where you're going to be looking for pain and tensed muscles (called "guarding" in medical lingo).

The Physical Diagnosis Part:

Start by pressing very lightly in other areas of the abdomen (don't @ me about auscultating first- I'm assuming you already did that), looking for guarding. If the guarding only occurs around McBurney's point, that should really raise your suspicion for appendicitis. Despite the likelihood of the appendix being more than 5cm away, guarding covers a fair distance (possibly that whole lower right quadrant) and about 96% of people with appendicitis will have guarding on the right side. Guarding might also be everywhere if the appendix has already perforated.

The next thing you're going to do is press your flat hand pretty hard on the other side from where you felt the guarding. This is called a Rovsing Sign. Usually this is the left side you're pressing on. Pressing somewhere far away should still make the guarding-place painful, because it stretches the structures around where the guarding is happening. Since those are inflamed, stretching them should hurt.

A few other ways to do this include tapping on the right heel, having the patient cough (Dunphy Sign), or tapping in various places on the abdomen and seeing where the pain is. A particularly asshole move is having the patient stand on their toes and drop suddenly onto their heels, causing a lot of pain where inflammation in the abdomen is (Markle Sign). Most people aren't that mean, Dr. Markle.

By now you essentially know that something in the right lower quadrant is inflamed. If your history lines up with appendicitis, you can probably presume to keep looking for an inflamed appendix.

Pressing slowly downwards on McBurney's Point (or at least, where most of the pain was when doing the above signs), and then quickly releasing the pressure (causing a lot of pain with release of pressure) can tell you if the front lining of the abdomen is inflamed, and the appendix is probably hanging out in the front.

The Obturator Sign is looking for inflammation in the lower pelvis, one of the places the appendix might be hanging out. To do this, you have the patient bend their knee to 90* while laying on their back. You then pushes the knee away from yourself while pulling the foot towards yourself. This stretches a muscle in the lower pelvis that would be inflamed if the appendix was sitting next to it.

To see if the appendix is behind the cecum, use the Psoas Sign. For this, the patient lays flat on their back, and you push on their thigh while they try to raise their leg. If that causes pain in the back part of their abdomen, the Psoas (tenderloin) is inflamed, and the appendix is probably back there.

Doing all of these and getting a bunch of positives (lots of pain all in the expected area(s)) gives you somewhere between a 60% and 80% chance of having found a case of appendicitis. It might also be other things like an intestinal blockage, perforation of something else, blood or irritating fluid in the abdomen, or something else. You'll probably need to do a lot of this repeatedly. The only way to know for 100% is to surgically remove the appendix and look at it. By physical diagnosis alone about 10-20% of appendectomies are done on healthy appendixes.

Good luck in the hunt!

-Ross

*heavily biased toward whump fanfic. I'm not sure what intestinal appendages feature on other corners of AO3 and nor do I want to

[transskywardsword]

NEW CHAPTER BABY - Here I Go, Pretending To Be You (Chapter 24)

Zelda couldn’t hold Ere as long as she would have liked. She had no true understanding of what the other woman was feeling, not really, but she remembered the agony of thinking her father’s death was on her hands. The blood burning, chest exploding grief, the disgust with herself, the self-loathing—it had been all-consuming, and Zelda still found herself missing sleep over misplaced guilt. Ere had spent her whole life with the Yiga, with Kohga, and while Zelda had been raised in a culture that commanded complete submission to one’s elders, leaving her forever without support when it came to Rhoam, Ere hadn’t even been raised so much as she had been indoctrinated. Now that Zelda really let herself acknowledge that, thinking about the Yiga on the other side of the stone door behind them made Zelda vaguely nauseous. All of them had been raised the same. Ere was far from the first deserter—after all, Dorian was a turncoat himself, serving as Impa’s protector when she was elder, and now as Paya’s right hand. If he could do it, if Ere could do it, then, hypothetically, so could every person out that door. And yet, Zelda knew Link had raised a blade to countless Yiga. Back before the Calamity, she’d watched it herself when Link saved her in front of Kara Kara, leaving behind spilled blood and intestines. Now, looking at Ere’s heaving shoulders, could Zelda justify killing them?

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