#i might as well be sprouting leaves. i might as well be covered in little clams

[creatureapart]

(jenny slate, from "little weirds")

#i might as well be sprouting leaves i might as well be covered in little clams

[headspace-hotel]

My Oenothera biennis at home is covered in caterpillars of white-lined sphinx moth. I've never seen one before! I think the caterpillars hibernate underground over the winter and emerge in spring as their adult moth form?

O. biennis is common evening-primrose. It has such a special place in my heart. It was, I believe, the first rescued plant that bloomed for me—I pulled one from a crack in the pavement on the roadside, not knowing what it was, and carefully took care of it until it had grown too big for its pot, at which point I planted it in the front flower bed.

I remember how amazing it was to watch the plant develop pointed buds that opened into large, bright, delicate flowers that were the most gorgeous shade of glowing pale yellow. It was so unlike the rich, heavy, buttery yellows of dandelions and sunflowers and other yellow flowers I was familiar with—this plant had its own yellow, so gentle yet so luminous, almost fluorescent. Each day, a new set of buds formed and opened, beginning late July and continuing into the final days of September.

At last, the plant reached the end of its bright, showy riot of blossoms, and slowly dried up entirely, leaving an array of partially split open seed pods along the stem. O. biennis is biennial, as the name suggests. It germinates the first year, forms a rosette of leaves close to the ground, then the second year, it bolts—rapidly growing its stem upward—and produces tons and tons of flowers until it is utterly spent. As the plant dries out in death, the seed pods slowly curl open, releasing loads of tiny seeds.

The next spring, a strange miracle occurred: Many O. biennis sprouts came up where the seeds had fallen, but instead of creating a neat little rosette of leaves on the ground, they began bolting immediately.

One particularly enthusiastic sprout was already a foot tall by May, and kept growing and growing, to my perplexment. "You're supposed to be biennial! What are you doing?"

But it couldn't be denied—the plants were all preparing to bloom the same year they'd first sprouted. And bloom they did!

The flower bed by the front door was blazing with color.

I saw how people designated O. biennis as a weed—it wasn't compact like the usual garden plants, it grew tall and sprawling like an expansive candelabra of blossoms. It was strong and enthusiastic in spite of poor conditions. But it was so beautiful, I was in love.

I learned that occasionally, O. biennis growing in harsh conditions with low competition, could evolve to have an annual life cycle. Apparently, all the seeds produced by the founding plant inherited this trait.

Yesterday, I visited home and collected seed pods from the one extraordinarily enthusiastic plant that had captured my attention, the one that bolted in spring and began blooming before all the others. I intend to spread those seeds in the goldenrod fields and whatever neglected place a tough plant might thrive.

I feel that the progeny of my one extraordinary plant might be more competitive in areas that are periodically subjected to mowing and bush-hogging. The plants these seeds give rise to could be better adapted to the novel stresses placed upon them in these disturbed environments.

The weakness of O. biennis is that it spreads its seeds simply by gravity and the action of water washing seeds away. Its genetics, however exceptional, cannot travel far. So I am helping it out a little bit, by identifying a plant that has evolved exceptionally well for the stresses of a roadside environment and spreading its seeds as much as I can.

#oenothera biennis #plants #plantarchy #native plant gardening

[farfromsugafanfic]

Stray kids reaction to seeing surgery scars on their s/o

Anon 🐻‍❄️

SKZ Reaction To Seeing Surgery Scars On Their S/O

Genre: fluff, suggestions of smut

Warnings: mentions of surgery, body insecurity, cancer, mention of disease and injuries

A/N: My first anon 🥹 thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it. Also, thank you for 1,000 followers 🥺

Chan:

Chan knew about your appendectomy scar and how it was one of your complexes, but you'd always managed to keep it hidden from him. He tried to express that it was perfectly normal to have surgical scars and that it wouldn't change how he felt about you, but it still took you time to show it to him.

Pulling up your shirt, you winced as the keloid scar became visible. Chan stayed quiet before gently running the softest part of his fingertips over the rough scar.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Sometimes," you said. "But not too much anymore."

He nodded in understanding and reached down to intertwine your fingers.

Minho:

Minho understood why you were scared for him to see your scoliosis surgery scar because he too had a surgery scar that he felt self-conscious of. While he'd sometimes caught a small glimpse of it, you always tried to keep it hidden. Eventually, though, it became impossible to deny the intimacy growing between the two of you.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said, trying to lighten the mood with some light sarcasm. It seemed to work since you laughed and some of the tension in your body. When you finally threw your shirt aside, his breath hitched at the long vertical scar down your spine. It lined up with the curves of your body linearly, making your body look like two butterfly wings sprouting from the scar.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

Changbin:

Changbin knew you had a tumor removed from your kidney as a kid, but it never crossed his mind that you might have a scar. While you sometimes even forget about it, there are times you get reminded. Someone looks a little too hard at your abdomen when wearing a crop top, or someone was bold enough to ask what happened.

You'd long put your childhood brush with cancer behind you, but when Changbin first noticed your scar, your body filled with dread. Would it be the last straw and he would finally find you completely unattractive and dump you?

However, Changbin didn't say a word and just placed his palm over it. He'd continue to do this, sometimes without even thinking about it, just reminding you that he loved every part of you, even the parts you sometimes wanted to hide.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin noticed that you always wore long sleeves. At first, he didn't think much about it, until there was an especially hot day when you refused to take off your long-sleeved shirt. When he questioned it, he saw the panicked look in your eyes and knew something was wrong.

After a bit of soft prodding, you eventually explained that you'd broken your arm as a kid and had had surgery, leaving you with a scar. Hyunjin was silent for a few moments.

"Is that all? You thought I would mind that?"

"Well, I mean, you're so gorgeous."

"I still have scars, babe." He chuckled and reached for your sleeve, gently pulling it up and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the scar. He didn't say anything else, but gently leaned down and kissed the scar.

Jisung:

When Jisung first met you, it was at a large event where you'd had your makeup professionally done. But, the next time he saw you, it was a late night at the convenience store where the scar from a skin graft surgery you'd had after getting a burn on one side of your face. Compared to what it could look like, it was relatively minor, but the scar was visible and you'd only just got used to doing small errands like this without covering it up.

Jisung can't lie and say it didn't catch him off guard, but it only made him more interested in you. He bought you a pudding and chatted with you, deciding not to mention anything unless you did. This surprised you because most people couldn't help but ask for the sob story of the car accident that resulted in major burns to your face.

Eventually, you did tell Jisung what happened though it took time and getting over some insecurities. But, Jisung's openness about his insecurities and your insistence that they didn't matter to him helped you come to realize how enamored he actually was with you.

Felix:

You and Felix were both very open about your insecurities and who you are. However, you could never get yourself to show your biopsy scar. The scar was small, but noticeable. So, you kept it covered. As you and Felix became more intimate, you knew he would eventually see your scar.

Felix was a sweetheart. You knew he wouldn’t care and that such a small flaw would not affect how he felt about you. Yet, still, there was a nagging worry. When Felix does see the scar and notice the way your body tenses when his eyes graze over it, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it gently.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he said, as if he were looking at you trying on a dress and not gazing at your scar. His hand brought yours to his cheek.

Seungmin:

On the outside, it wasn't obvious that you had lupus, but Seungmin had begun to notice that you never drank—not even beer or wine. He didn't mind but found it a bit curious since it was not something he was used to with people around his age. Still, he didn't ask questions. That was until he was staying the night at your apartment and caught a glimpse of the hockey stick shaped scar on the right side of your abdomen from having a kidney transplant.

His eyes widened as he began to put it all together. He didn't flip out but did ask if you were okay. After you explained, he felt better but also felt bad that you felt like you needed to hide such a major part of yourself from him. From then on, he would sometimes find himself absentmindedly running his fingers over the scar when you lie together.

Jeongin:

Jeongin knew you'd had knee surgery a few years ago after tearing your meniscus. But, he'd never seen the scar. Of course, he was never actively looking for it but realized that you never showed your knees at all. When asked about it, he could tell it was a touchy subject, but a few sweet words and reassuring touches calmed you.

Rolling up your pant leg, you showed him the scar. It was larger than most other similar scars because your injury had been extensive. The scar—at least in Jeongin's eyes—wasn't too visible, but he made sure to give you a cute peck on the nose and encourage you to wear what you wanted since surgery scars were nothing to be ashamed of.

#stray kids #skz #skz reactions #stray kids fanfic #stray kids reactions #skz fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #farfromsuga #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #skz preferences #stray kids scenarios #stray kids preferences #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop fic #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids requests #stray kids fanfiction

[2-dsimp]

Monster rule 101: Don’t play with fire around your Mothman!—————-:—:————

Mothman! Dabi x monster hunter! Fem reader

—————-:—:——————:————:————-:——

🔞MDNI🔞

C w: Humiliation, asphrodiasic, slight mind break, degradation, praise, NFSW, monsterfuxking, overstimulation, breeding, impregnation, usage of cunt

—————-:—:——————:————:————-:——

You were on a mission.

A very dangerous mission that was a code gold also known as Legendary. Meaning that the monstrous threat was equivalent to a whole country being wiped off the map. However, due to certain circumstances only one solider could be dispatched to deal with the golden threat.

The reason for that being because of how hyper sensitive the Mothman is to overcrowding within its territory. The team dispatch leader decided to proceed with the utmost caution lest they trigger its frenzy mode. Which would ultimately result in the loss of lives country wide, burning underneath the raging pure blue flames of the otherworldly demon.

<< Have you located the Mothman? Over >>

“Yes I’ve got eyes on the area sir, permission to proceed?”

<< Permission granted. Over >>

You were chosen out of a select few individuals for being the cream of the crop, to carry out this dire mission to save all of mankind. If you could succeed then you’d be set for life! Having the fame and the riches that come along with it, all in exchange for exterminating the deadliest bug humanoid in existence. You’d say that’s a fair trade, since it was high risk high reward type situation.

But as you approached the abandoned cave you could feel a sense of dread wash over your entire being.

You were being watched.

You could feel the sweat accumulate upon your lush chocolatey skin littered in goosebumps. Then you heard a sharp chuff that echoed off the walls, seemingly the Mothman enjoyed watching you squirm from his focused attention.

Venturing even deeper into the unknown you tightly grasped at your equipment, a tool of reassurance you could say. That happened to be a flamethrower. Yes, out of all the weapons you chose a hazardous contraption that resembled a dragons breath.

Why? Mostly because you thought it’d be cool to go out in a blaze of glory should you happen to fail in your conquest to get the target in check. But it was also strategic in a way, since moths were attracted to light. You’ve had to find some kind of way to draw them out.

Too bad you didn’t get the chance to use it before you’re snatched into furry arms that secured you to the monsters chest. Which vibrated from his snarky greeting.

“You took too long enough for my liking doll, now shall we get down to business already? “

You could feel his bulge press up against the your ass, rubbing between your cheeks.

“I’m feeling a bit pent up”

He rasped impatiently into your ear, boy did his voice do wonders as it spiked your arousal. But you had a job to do, unfortunately. Gathering your composure you asserted yourself to the monster.

“You already know why I’m here right? Mr. Mothman.”

You could feel him chuckle darkly against your neck, highly amused by your sense of professionalism. Even while having his dick steadily grind against your back, covering you in clear fluids. Making your thighs shake in excitement.

“Obviously, but just call me Dabi, dollface. You’re gonna wear it out in a few moments might as well get a lil practice in ya?”

You were dumbfounded. Could he be implying what you’re thinking—

“Judging from the look on your pretty face, I’m guessing your little agency didn’t fill ya in on our little inside deal huh?”

He purred

You could feel his loosened grip completely leave your body. Allowing you to be able to face the Mothman hunched over in all of his 7ft glory. He had tuffs of black fur covering his toned ripped chest, arms, and legs. His overall body type was lean and slender. The dark colored wings sprouting at large from behind, before being folded back neatly into place. To avoid you from seeing his jagged scars littered across them.

“All I can say is that you’re in for one hell of a ride once I get my hands on you Baby. So Outta the kindness of my heart I’ll give you a 5 minute head start—”

He paused, as you gave him an warm embrace of your own. Grinding against his bulge that continued to grow even further against you. He looked down at you in disbelief, but it wasn’t before long until he connected the dots.

“ Don’t tell me, You’re one of those monster fanatics aren’t ya?”

To be quite frank yes. You were an absolute fan of monsters, you fantasized about getting close and becoming friends with one. But now you were gonna be the mate of a code legendary?? You couldn’t believe your luck. Plus it was the mission you were given, so as the loyal solider that you are. You gratefully accepted your fate with no questions asked.

The Mothman merely laughed in the irony of it all, a monster hunter wanting to be fucked by a monster it was so priceless. A devious smirk planted on his face As he bended over down to your height charred lips barely touching the shell of your ear only to whisper darkly of a precautionary warning of what you’re getting into.

“ You do realize that I’m in heat right doll?”

He reached his hand down running his tempered claws down the fat of your thick ass giving it a tight squeeze before hooking your leg up to leave some room for him to freely press his huge twitching bulge against your moist mound.

“I’m barely hanging on by a thread, so Don’t hold anything against me if I lose control got it?”

It wasn’t long until you were on the brink of being fucked to death by the Mothman of your dreams. face pushed down into the cocoon like nest he prepared in advance as his extended feeler limbs sprouted out from his sides, to grasp at you from behind hooking onto your waist. Keeping you grounded on his intrusive dick. While his primary arms wrapped around you tightly to play with your breasts that jigged violently from his ruthless thrusts from behind.

“You’re sucha pretty lil thing for me aren’t ya?”

The strong pheromones that wafted off from his wings made you feel so vulnerable and helpless within his smoldering embrace. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve came alone from him just penetrating your cervix. It was as if you were on cloud nine enjoying the way his cum covered cock kept digging even deeper inside your snug snatch trying to ensure that you’d get pregnant with his brood.

“Your slutty pussy just can’t seem to get enough of my dick, don’t worry doll I’ll make you take all of it”

He murmured eyes staring down dangerously at the way your pliant body bended to his ministrations. He payed close attention to the way his dick continued to be devoured by your juicy cunt. That sucked and messaged his thick cock inside the hot mesh of your inner walls determined to be flooded with his baby batter.

“ Mmh D-Dabi please I can’t—!”

You babbled dumbly with drool hanging down from the corners of your fucked out plump lips. As the intensity of his rapid heavy thrusts began to increase its assault against your quivering quim.

You tried to crawl away from yet another approaching high that was dead set on crashing down on your senses. But his firm grip on your neck yanked you back into reality.

“ Aye Dollface don’t ever try to fuckin crawl away from me again, you’re mine you got that?”

Dabi hissed, giving you a sharp tug on your butterfly locs and a harsh bite on your shoulder as a fair warning.

The cave was emitting loud strange sounds from the inside, alerting to anyone from around the area to vacate the premises immediately. In case the Mothman were to come out of his home and start wrecking chaos. But little did they know that Stowed away deep inside the cave for a whole week did you lay beneath the Mothman in all your naked glory.

Freshly fucked all the way to Sunday during his still ongoing heat cycle. Where the only thing covering you was his semen that painted your caramel skin from your breasts down to your overused cunt stuffed to the brim with his cum that trickled out from your puffy pussylips. Only to be pushed back in by his long veiny dick just to ensure that the next of his kin would live on inside your womb.

Hey At least you prevented a worldwide tragedy, right?

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #bhna smut #mha smut #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #mha x female reader #dabi imagine #dabi scenarios #mothman #Mothman!dabi #yandere dabi #smut imagine #smut drabble #smut scenarios #thought I already posted this but apparently not? so here’s this repost XD

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this 18+ just to be sure. References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Cursing, Blood, Guts, Graphic Death, (spoilers?), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

*********************************************************

Present Day

Your motorcycle crunches loudly against the black gravel driveway outside of Crimson Countess' trailer. It looks worse than you imagined, shoved behind Vought-land, and sprouting out of the ground like a fungus. Not an unusual thought given it's ogre-like inhabitant.

You weren't looking forward to seeing her after all these years, because you knew it wasn't going to end well. Deep down you hoped that she had let go of everything that happened in the past, like you had tried, well, until Butcher and Hughie showed up at your apartment. Then again, you're not sure that you've really let go of everything that happened. Sometimes it felt like you just shoved all your feelings into the deepest darkest part of your brain where they’d been festering for the past forty years.

And ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up, those feelings had been clawing their way out like a banished Titan climbing out of Tartarus.

You think again about driving away. If you saw her, there wouldn't be any going back. You couldn't go in there pretending to be your daughter, you had to be you. Which meant the possibility of losing the life you'd constructed in the aftermath that followed your long superhero career.

Was it worth it? Was Ben worth it?

You sigh considering that thought. After the fight it was difficult to answer that question. If the answer was no, you might as well just leave. But the answer was yes. You hated that after everything that happened between Ben and you, the answer was yes.

And that meant you needed to know the truth, needed to see it in her eyes. Which also meant there was only one choice.

You look around the clearing where the trailer sits. It’s in a circle of trees that filter the setting sunlight through their lofty branches, making patterns on the gravel where weeds and patches of grass break through every few feet like an oasis in a desert. Further down the road to the right you see a collection of empty circus carts that rust onto yellowed grass, rising from the earth to tangle in the wooden wheels of the carts.

At least the trees are pretty. You think to yourself trying to focus on the positive. They were, after all, one of your favorite things to paint.

You consider your apartment downtown, the open floor plan and large windows, very different from how she chose to live her life. Your eyes trace the mobile home thinking back about the fungus analogy.

The trailer was covered with peeling white paint stained black and yellow in some areas where sticky mold had begun to fester against the structure. The rickety porch was rotted, so much so that when you walked across it, it creaked loudly beneath your feet and you stepped around several foot-sized holes, where others had fallen through.

She definitely didn't budget her money well. I wonder how much money she got when she was a hero? I know that my salary wasn't amazing. Ben definitely did better than me because of his films.

Then again, you were living off money from your father, and your grandfather's investments in real estate, not to mention your artwork was selling better than it ever had.

Your knock against the flimsy front door of the mobile home, not using your supe strength, but the entire house still shakes.

Probably wouldn't withstand a thunderstorm. Hopefully she's invested in an umbrella.

No one answers and for a moment you hope that she's not here or she's dead, but just like always you’re disappointed.

"Who the fuck is it?" You hear Countess' familiar voice shout from inside.

A swarm of memories flock across your mind at her voice, but you push them aside.

"Your best friend in the whole world." You respond, before you can stop yourself. Sarcasm was an easy fallback. If your mother was here she'd say that it wasn't ladylike.

Really just disappointing her in every century. The thought makes you happy.

"What?" Countess rips open the door so savagely that you wonder how the door didn't come off in her hand. You watch her eyes widen and her face pale as her gaze lands on you.

Well, that's certainly not a normal reaction to seeing me.

"Y/n?" You hear her heartbeat spike in her chest. "You're-" She sputters to look for the right word.

"Alive? Yes." You smile at her. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Um-"

A flash of the last time you saw her comes roaring back. The smug look on her face when you caught her and Ben together, the way her face was flushed bright red, sweat dotting her hairline while he- You clear your throat to stop the memory.

You push past her into the small residence, not waiting for her to invite you, and your nose wrinkles as the smell of sweat and her rancid perfume invade your nostrils. It was barely two rooms, the small kitchen/living room was separated from the bedroom with a red beaded curtain that doesn't hide the unmade bed and clothes covered floor.

This was unusual given the fact that she was wearing her supe suit, complete with cape and mask. It was a little tighter in some places than you remember, her reddish hair reeked of cheap dye, her perfume like a cloud of sulfuric acid, and her pointed, cruel face was more wrinkled that the last time you saw her.

"I'd like to say that this is cute," You turn to look back at her from the small kitchen/living room, that was covered in dirty plates and take-out boxes. "But it's kind of a shit hole, isn't it?"

That was fast. So much for trying to be civil. Too much history I guess.

"What are you doing here?" She keeps her voice calm, but the tempo of her heart suggests otherwise.

Your eyes trace the lines of her face, the wrinkles, the subtle graying of her hair that the dye couldn't cover. "Just thought I'd check in. See how things are going. You definitely didn't age well."

"What the fuck do you want?" She snarls this time.

You can't help but smile at her. Something about this whole situation was utterly ridiculous to you.

She said Ben died. Why am I even here? What did she have to gain from his death? The thought swishes around in your brain. But then why was she afraid when she saw me? You think about all the times you spent watching her manipulate the others on Payback and all the other times you were around her, she never showed fear. Why now?

"I'm here because somebody showed up the other day asking me about Ben." You shrug, running one of your hands against the dirty kitchen countertop examining the tip of your finger as if looking for dust. "And it's funny, because as they were asking me questions I realized that you and I never talked about what happened that day. I mean I heard what you said through Stan and Legend, but I never heard it from you. Thought it was time we had a little heart to heart."

Her pulse spikes again, but she covers it with a smirk. "You want to talk about Ben?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. "Well I'll say this, he was a good fuck. But I'm sure you knew that."

Your entire body goes rigid, remembering the night that you found them together, the night after you finally told him you loved him and he pushed you away.

"I mean, after all, he popped your cherry didn't he? Made you a woman." Countess' smirk turns into a rueful smile. "You definitely waited long enough. Ben told me how long you’d been friends. He told me the sex was so boring, that you were so inexperienced, that he wanted a real woman who could actually please him. A woman who wasn’t quite so-." She sniffs, tapping a bright red fingernail against her hip. “Big.”

Her words are like a slap in the face and you feel the cold disapproval of your mother for the first time in eighty years. The anger that surges up underneath your skin flares hot against your cheeks.

Ben wouldn't have said that about me. He- he knew how special that was for me. He said that he wanted it to be special for me.

You remember how happy he looked when you woke up in his arms the next day, before you said the three little words that you couldn't hold in anymore, the ones that you had wanted to say to him since you were eight.

"Poor little y/n. You worshiped the ground he walked on for so long  and finally he decided to pity fuck you. It’s so sad. You wasted your life pining for someone who will never love you. And you thought you could just come here and intimidate me? You’re still the same little girl who begged Ben to fuck yo-"

Her body flies forward telekinetically into your outstretched hand, that clamps down around her throat.

"But I do intimidate you." Your eyes shift to purple with your display of power. "Your heart rate hasn't dropped below 120 since I got here. So obviously there's a reason why you're afraid of me." She gasps against your hand, but you don't let go. "Tell me what happened that day." Your voice has slipped into a monotone, tinged with rage. “And I promise that I’ll let you live. In what condition, well, that's up to you.”

"I don't have to tell you anything!" She spits, pushing her hands together and sending you flying backward as the ball of fire hits you just under the right side of your rib cage.

There's a high pitched popping sound, an immeasurable amount of pain, and everything goes black.

It wasn't the first time you'd died. You'd heard of other supes being able to come back from the dead, and of course the others like Ben and Homelander who were almost invulnerable to injury, but your gift was different. Yes you had enhanced senses, speed, and strength, which were the original powers that were displayed after you received the injection of Compound V, but there was more to it than that.

It took you the first two deaths to figure it out, and you could remember both clearly.

The first was a few weeks after you took Compound V, when you and Ben were on his tour overseas promoting the might of the United States. It was supposed to be safe. The shot fired from the crowd was meant for Ben, but you pushed him out of the way. It was before you figured out he was bulletproof. Your gut reaction was to protect him as it always was. He ripped the guy in half for what he did and turned back to you. You remembered how he looked, remembered the fear in his eyes he never allowed to break through the façade he wore as Soldier Boy as he held you across his lap, holding a hand against the wound where blood poured freely from your chest. You remembered gazing up at him for what you thought was the last time and then the darkness that followed, welcoming you like an old friend.

And then thirteen seconds later you woke up, gasping for air, the bullet wound healed leaving only a circular scar behind. You didn’t understand at first, it wasn't until you died the second time that you realized how powerful you could be. The second time was Ben's fault, a scorned lover, a telekinetic, with a bone to pick with him. When you got in her way she'd snapped your neck with her powers. But this time when you woke, it was different, you felt different. You could feel her powers stirring beneath your skin, and it wasn't until you flicked her away from Ben that you understood. When you died a normal way you came back after 13 seconds, but when a supe killed you, you came back in 13 seconds with their powers.

You didn’t know why 13 seconds. In fact it was Ben that told you it was exactly 13 seconds, why he knew that you didn't know. It seemed that for everyone else 13 was an unlucky number, but for you it was the difference between life and death, literally. You also didn’t understand why you kept the powers. Sometimes you wondered if when you were killed by a supe your body analyzed how you died, understood it, and then you came back with that forbidden knowledge like you’d just eaten the fruit off the wrong tree. 

Ben was the only one who knew and when anyone asked, you attributed your sudden ability to move things with your mind as something you never used in public. Having that much power scared you. You weren't sure what people or Vought would do if they found out, so you kept it to yourself and so did Ben. Honestly, sometimes you think the reason why he kept it to himself was because he didn’t want anyone to be more powerful than him, but you didn’t care about the abilities. You didn’t think you were a god despite Vought’s constant worship and praise. If anything, you felt closer to hell and in a binding contract with the devil.

Exactly thirteen seconds later, you sit up from the floor completely healed while Countess stands there over you, a horrified look on her face. She'd never seen you die before.

"Did you just try to kill me Countess?" You ask.

She puts her hands together to shoot another fireball, but you make a motion with your hand to that flicks her away. Her body soars backward illuminated in the purple glow that manifests with your telekinesis, into the small hallway that leads to the bathroom on the other side of the mobile home.

"You know," You stand from the ground looking down at your melted motorcycle jacket. "This was my favorite jacket. Had it from the 80's it was vintage. Damn.”

“How-“ She groans stumbling to her feet and leaning on the wall for support.

“We all have our secrets don’t we? And I'd love to hear yours."

Her eyes flash to where the front door is, but you beat her to it, yanking her back towards you by the arm, crushing her right wrist in your hand. Her scream of pain quenches the anger fueling in your chest from the words she snarled at you earlier.

"You're pretty worthless, even with your powers." You sigh. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”

She cradles her broken wrist to her chest, backing away from you. Fear flashes in her eyes when she realizes that she's made a mistake, but instead of it making you feel powerful, it makes you pause.

Being a hero was difficult. You watched how so many others abused their powers over the years, feigning to be pure and heroic but really succumbing to dark urges when no one was looking. It was also why you hated Herogasm.

You hated it because you knew what happened to the normal people, the ones that thought they would be safe with the heroes they admired so much. You'd watched Ben lose control more than once, knew stories of innocent people that were hurt, not that Countess was innocent. But you never liked to hurt people with your powers. Standing here in this trailer made you guilty and watching her cower away from you made you guilty despite your shared history and her harsh words.

"So I'm just going to ask one more time, what happened to Ben?" You force your voice into a snarl, shaking off the guilt.

Because it was necessary. It wasn't just about you settling something from years ago, it was about Ben.

She deserves this, she isn't a good person.

"Go to hell." She spits at you.

You grab her by the front of her red suit and throw her away into the small kitchen. Countess' body crashes into the lopsided brown cabinets with a solid thwacking sound smashing through the flimsy structures. Blood drips down the side of her face from where she hit the cabinet corner, blending into her reddish hair. She rises from the ground with an angry snarl, clutching a dirty knife in her hand.

"I don't want to get tetanus from that. I can't remember when my last shot was-" You begin to say with a sigh.

She swipes the air in a vicious arc, but you grab her by the wrist, dodging the knife. "You never learn do you?"

The wrist twists to the side in your hand with a loud snapping sound followed by Countess' scream that reverberates in your skull as you break her other arm. "Pretty soon you're gonna be out of limbs, so I'd start talking."

Countess drops to her knees as the pain begins to seep into her body. "Fine. I'll tell you-"

"Then do it."

"He's not dead."

As the world stops spinning a high pitched ringing in your ears takes over, filling the monotonous drone of seconds ticking past. The past forty years no longer matter, the next hundred wouldn’t either, because Ben wasn't dead. As much as you hated him, the thought chilled you to your core, because then where the hell was he?

"Or at least he wasn't when they took him." She mutters, holding her arms to her chest.

"What did you do?" Your voice comes out in a whisper because you can hardly speak let alone comprehend what she's saying. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" You scream, grabbing her by the front of her suit.

"They wanted him." She spits.

"Who did?"

"The Russians. They wanted him and they took him!"

"You sold him out to the Russians?" You roar, hauling her up into the air so close you can smell what she ate for lunch. "Why? Did they pay you?"

"No. We all hated him!" She snarls. "But you were always around." Her mouth twitches into a painful smile. "It was so easy to get him to fuck me. I knew it would drive you away, you'd wanted him for so long and he didn't give a damn about you. And then you weren't there to protect him!" She laughs through the pain that builds in her chest.

I was right. She fucked him to make me angry, to get me to turn my back on him. I wasn't there to help him and they sold him out the first chance they got.

"He always wanted me more than you, knew that I could satisfy him better than you ever could. You really thought that he could love you? Ben doesn’t love anyone!” Her eyes glint with malice. “And you’re still the same pathetic little girl who begged Ben for his co-“

Her head tears from her shoulders in you hands cutting off her next words, the explosion of blood from her carotid artery spraying your face, and soaking into your ruined clothes. The ringing is back, filling the void of silence in the air that followed the tearing of bone and sinew.

You stand there for a minute holding it, not quite comprehending what you've just done. You hadn't lost control in a long time, not since you had the fight with Ben about Countess, or when you threw your sofa through one of the walls in your apartment and then broke every piece of glass, windows included, and had to move when you found out he was dead.

Or not dead. The thought chills you. Payback handed him over to the Russians, where he's been for the past 40 years? Why? Just because he was irrational, angry, and a dick? There's got to be more to it than that. Stan would have never allowed that. Soldier Boy was his golden boy, his meal ticket-

You think about the last forty years of hating Ben, cursing him, trying to forget him, wishing that you'd never loved him. The night you fought washes over you, bringing the anger, frustration, and heartbreak roaring back. The head in your hands smashes into mush as the memories barrage your mind, surging over the dam you built to keep them away.

You and Ben had always watched each other's backs. It was the promise you made to each other before all of this started, on the night he asked you to come with him and leave everything you knew behind. You knew him better than anyone else.

And yes maybe he fucked me once and I told him I loved him and he immediately went out and fucked Countess-

Your heart cracks in your chest with the thought, the heartbreak coming back in a wave of sadness that makes you shudder.

But you couldn't leave him, because you knew he would have never left you. Ben may have said that he didn't care about you, but you knew in your gut that Ben would have torn anyone apart who hurt you. He's always protected you. Even before you became supes together.

You stare back down at the mush coating your hands and the front of your clothes.

Why the fuck is everything so complicated?

********************************************************

When you get back to your apartment you're covered in a thin layer of soot, from blowing up the trailer, and a layer of blood and brain matter from removing and crushing her head. You hoped that by blowing up her home and burning her body with your newfound abilities that it would be enough to cover your tracks, but you were uneasy. The buzz of killing her and the shock of her revelation had worn off, but was now replaced with a numbness when you think about what could have happened to Ben, what could still be happening to him.

The shower does little to ease your mind and sleep evades you, despite the exhaustion that pulls at your limbs for using your powers. Dying usually meant that you needed to replenish that energy, but you couldn't muster the enthusiasm to do that. You just felt listless. The last forty years felt like a lie, felt like a waste, because as you’d been living your life Ben had been trapped in Russia.

So you open your laptop on the counter, wet hair soaking through your sleepshirt, and begin to research flights to Russia leaving within the next few days.

I have no idea where I'm going. I go to Russia and then what? Where in Russia? The Kremlin? Yeah let me just waltz right up to that.

You lean forward with your head in your hands thinking about Butcher. He came here because he wanted to know more about Ben. Maybe he knew where he was. He was the one who mentioned Russia.

You pull the card he left behind on your counter towards you, rubbing your thumb over the number. Legend said he kills supes. So is that what he wanted? To find Ben and kill him? The thought makes a chill travel down your spine, immediately followed by the primal urge to protect Ben. But what had Ben ever done to him?

You look at the number again.

If I call him, he's going to know that I was lying. Not that I'm scared of him.

You finally pick up your phone and dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Hey this is Y/f/n Y/l/n. I just remembered a few things about Soldier Boy and thought you'd like to discuss them. Just give me a call-back whenever you get this."

You hang up the phone and sit there for a minute, eyeing the coffee that sits untouched next to your open laptop.

I killed someone today. The thought should be chilling, but you feel no remorse, no guilt.

Is that because I think she deserved it?

Your mind goes back to what she said about Ben sleeping with you, what he told her about you. The urge to cry rises in your chest with the memory of her words.

You remembered that night. You had been so excited. Ben had taken you out to dinner for your birthday, despite your insistence that you'd celebrated enough of those. The restaurant was quiet, secluded, different than the flashy world the both of you were living in.  It had reminded you of before you took the Compound V, when you were still normal. The food was good, there was flirting and hand holding at dinner, and finally a slow dance when he kissed you for the first time.

And when he took you back to your apartment and to bed, it didn’t seem like a quick fuck, it didn't feel like cheap sex. The way he took care of you, held your hand, said your name, looked at you, held you close to him after, and the soft smile on his face that he had only when it was the two of you- it felt special. He made it special for you because he knew how important it was for you.

Tears slip down your cheeks. It would have been one of your favorite memories if you didn't know what followed, what was going to happen the next morning or in the next 24 hours. 

"Guess it was just a lie." You mutter to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes.

The next morning when you woke up in his arms you couldn't help but tell him that you loved him, whisper it to him, more happy than you'd ever been curled against his chest. You remembered the way he looked at you, like you were crazy and then he left for his movie premiere even though we were supposed to go together muttering flimsy excuses as to why he had to leave. And finally the image of him and Countess in the bathroom crashes over you, sending shards of glass back into your heart.

You thought that by now you'd picked them all out.

More tears drip down your cheeks, as your thoughts drift back to Ben and the years that followed that night. You sigh considering what to do.

I wish I could just forget, wish that I could leave him, but I can't.

But that didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

**********************************

After a night of no sleep, you stand poised over the wooden chest in the back of your closet. Packing for the flight that left in two days was turning into a bigger task than you'd thought.

Your current wardrobe wasn't suited for storm the capital city of Russia and kill everything in your path to find Ben, it was more suited for late night painting and art shows. The amount of paint stained overalls, oversized band t-shirts, sweatpants, and dresses in your closet was astounding and none of which screamed "fear me." You would definitely need to go to the mall to find more things that you could move in, if need be, and find things that hid your identity. All it took was one photo or video linked online and everyone would know that you weren’t dead.

You knew that no one would be willing to talk to you, give up the information willingly, not to mention if you really had to break into the Kremlin it was not going to be a walk in the park.

It wasn't that you were out of shape. You still trained during the week, took self-defense classes, and worked out to prevent yourself from going soft, but fighting Countess was the first time in forty years that you had faced another supe and you weren’t up to speed on the supes that the Russian government employed.

You also didn't like the idea that you were going in blind. There could be any number of men there, any kind of supes, and anything waiting for you.

But the truth was, deep down you didn't care. What the rest of Payback did had ignited something deep inside you. You knew that people were going to die if they stood in front of you, but the urge to protect Ben rose above all else. Because you still loved him, despite everything he said, despite everything he did, he was still Ben after all this time and you couldn't let him go that easily. 

You hold up your supe suit in front of you. It was made specifically for you, designed of a breathable material that made movement easy, not to mention the hood and mask did a wonderful job of concealing who you were.

I really don't want to wear this again. You think to yourself, eyeing the smooth material. It wasn't that you hated your suit, it was what it represented. If you wore that again, you'd be Indigo and you'd spent the past forty years trying to put as much distance between you and your superhero career as possible. You would be recognized instantly.

Could I even squeeze into this thing again?

You look at yourself in the floor length mirror on the opposite side of your walk in closet. You looked the same as you always had. Countess’ jeer about you being big makes you flinch again, bringing another cloud of insecurity over your mind.

Maybe that’s why he never slept with me before that night. Maybe that’s why he ran to Countess.

The thought is immediately followed by the image of Missy Callahan at your 16th birthday and how Ben clung to her. Then followed by your mother’s constant attempts to hide your figure. And finally, followed by all the other women you had ever seen Ben with. None of the others had looked like you. You shake off the urge to cry and look back at the suit.

Maybe I can paint over the purple, make it only black? Would that really change it that much?

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you lift the phone to your ear you realize that it's something much worse.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

******************************************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

[super-ion]

Such Lovely Fur

Chapter 1

The wind howls horribly as I stagger through the drifts of snow. It tears at my cloak and dress, digging icy fingers down to my bones. My teeth are chattering and I can barely feel my hands as I tug the cloak tight around my shoulders.

I find myself wondering for probably the thousandth time if this whole endeavor is a fool's errand. Many men have attempted this very mission, most have never returned.

What hope does someone like me possibly have?

I pause beneath a rocky outcropping, desperately trying to rub feeling back into my numb hands when I hear the voice. It comes in the form of a song in a language I do not recognize, piercing through the storm unnaturally (though there is hardly anything natural about this storm in the first place).

Were I in my right mind, I would ignore it, but I am cold and delirious from exhaustion. Instead I stagger forward blindly through the wind driven snow, drawn inexorably towards the haunting voice.

What I find is a cage, hanging from a sorry looking tree and woven from rough hewn strips of wood and covered with glowing symbols. Within sits the hunched figure of the singer. Her back is to me, so all I can see is a cloak that appears to be covered in dusky feathers.

“Hello?”

She stops singing and whirls to grip the bars. What I previously mistook for a feathered cloak is in fact a pair of wings in place of her arms, three fingers with wicked looking claws emerging halfway down their length. Curling horns and pointed ears sprout from beneath the raven dark tresses of her hair, framing a face with pale mottled gray skin and a sort of flattened nose and tilted eyes like a cat’s. The eyes themselves… they are jet black with glowing flecks like sparks dancing within.

She… I don't even know if this is a she… regards me hungrily with those eyes.

“Hey!” she says desperately. “Get me out of here and I'll grant you your heart's desire!”

Her husky voice snaps me out of my shock and I stagger back.

“Demon!” I gasp.

Her face falls and she makes a sulky pout at me.

“Please?” she asks. “Judging from the spells inscribed on this cage, there are sorcerers about, no doubt intending to carve out my hearts and drink my blood. I would really rather not be around when they return.”

Still in shock at the sight of her, I stumble backward, turn to leave and…

Her words are finally catching up with me.

She could help me save my betrothed.

“You… you can grant my heart's desire?”

She blinks in surprise and her ears twitch. She crouches in the cage, beckoning me closer. I take a few cautious steps forward.

“That might have been a slight exaggeration on my part,” she confesses. “But it is within my power to grant you boons to aid you in achieving such a heart's desire.”

“What sort of boons?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my shivering.

She makes a pointed glance at my cloak, fine dress and thin shoes, all of which are wholly unsuited for the ice and snow whirling around us.

“Well, that depends on what you need,” she replies. “If, as I suspect, you intend to brave this cursed storm and climb the mountain, it is within my power to grant you such tools to assist in such an endeavor.”

I should say no. I should not deal with demons, caged or no.

I also should not be out here in the elements attempting something so foolish. I am far outside of my realm of experience. I will surely freeze to death or worse before getting anywhere close to the top of the mountain.

“How many boons?” I demand.

A hopeful spark shines in her eyes and she grins, revealing sharp teeth.

“Three,” she says. “Standard package. Very powerful number, three.”

“Just so we're clear, I let you go and you grant me three boons?”

“You release me from this cage and I shall grant you three boons spread over three days of your choosing. I swear it on the skulls of my ancestors.”

She points eagerly to a surprisingly simple latch holding the cage closed. I know very little about magic, such things are anathema in civilized society, but I can only assume the glowing writing on the cage is meant for something like her and not something like me.

Regardless, I am reluctant to get too close. I find a long stick amongst the snow at the base of the tree and poke fumblingly at the latch from a safe distance. After a few attempts, I finally manage it and she comes tumbling out in a great squawking bundle of feathers.

She dusts the snow off of herself, revealing great birdlike feet with wicked talons and a whip-like tail that lashes excitedly behind her. She uncurls her body to full height and extends her wings in a languorous stretch.

I am not a short person, but I find myself dwarfed by her. At full height, she is nearly a full head taller than me, and her outstretched wings are nearly twice that height.

She cracks her neck and folds her wings close, ruffling her feathers and puffing up to ward off the cold.

My heart is hammering in my chest when she finally turns her attention back to me.

“What manner of person are you?” she asks as she begins circling me. “Man or woman? Something else maybe?”

She pauses behind me, craning her neck to get a look down my collar. I wrap my cloak around myself tightly in an attempt to preserve my modesty.

“I am a woman!” I snap indignantly.

She cocks her head.

“Indeed?”

When I was fifteen, my household hosted a delegation of merchants from a land across the sea. I remember them ogling and leering at me and asking the most inappropriate sorts of questions. I hated every minute of it, but the trade interests were too important for any sort of argument my father had told me. So I played the dutiful daughter. I made my family proud.

Out here in the wild, so far removed from any sort of propriety, this demon seemed to possess a genuine desire to understand, without a hint of derision. Perhaps… perhaps I could have a conversation with someone unburdened by any preconceived notions of the dictates of gender, neither from my homeland or distant lands with backwards beliefs.

The old familiar traitorous thoughts send a thrill through me and I quickly shove them aside. It is not proper to question my place in society or my role as a daughter or a bride. Nor is it proper to hold any such conversation with a demon.

(Nor is it proper for a woman of my station to be out in the wilderness such as I am, but these are special circumstances)

“Indeed I am,” I say. “Now tell me of these boons.”

She scowls in disappointment at the change of topic.

“Fine,” she sighs. “But first, answer me this: what is it that you seek? What is it that your heart desires?”

“I was to be wed at the end of summer, but the night before the wedding day, the Lady of Winter came down from her mountain and stole my bridegroom away. He is the nephew of a merchant prince, they are a very wealthy and-”

“You're out here risking your life for a man??” she interrupts. “No man is worth trifling with the Lady of Winter, trust me.”

“I am doing my family a great honor!” I reply defensively. “I will prove my devotion and earn my parents an even greater brideprice than what has already been agreed upon.”

She cocks her head the other way and leans forward, raising an eyebrow dubiously.

“But do you love him?” she asks.

“He was one of my dearest friends when we were children,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “On my naming day, a soothsayer read our fortunes in the stars and determined that we were a most auspicious match.”

She leans closer, too close now.

“You didn't answer my question,” she purrs.

“What is it to you?” I demand, jerking back.

She smirks and gives a little shrug.

“Nothing to me,” she says. “I'm simply gauging your conviction. These sorts of things come with a cost, and if your head and heart possess different notions of that cost, it can complicate things.”

“A cost??” I sputter. “But I freed you-”

“In exchange for the privilege of receiving my gifts,” she enunciates slowly with a roll of her eyes. “Listen, my friend. I can't make something from nothing, so everything costs something. It's called equivalent exchange.”

She taps her chin thoughtfully and sweeps me head to toe with her gaze.

“For example,” she continues. “A fur coat would serve you well… something nice and cozy to keep the chill at bay. I can't simply pull one out of thin air, I need something from you first.”

“What do you need?” I ask nervously.

“Your skin.”

“My…?”

I recoil in horror and she bursts into cackling laughter.

“Your face!” she wheezes as she doubles over. “You should see it!”

I feel a rush of embarrassed indignance and I'm surprised to find my fists clenching.

“This isn't funny,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but it is,” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes. “Seriously though, we'll need your skin. The best, easiest way to do this is to trick part of your body into forgetting that it's human.”

I stare at her, mouth agape.

“You mean… fur. Literal fur on my body? You can't be serious.”

“I am,” she says with a wicked grin. “That's how my magic works. How far are you willing to go for this man?”

I think of the pride in my father's face when my brideprice was negotiated. I think of the face of my bridegroom, the way he looked upon me the last time I saw him, the desire and satisfaction that I would soon be his.

I shouldn't even be out here, it is not a woman’s place to conduct such a rescue. If I returned now, empty handed, the dishonor I would face would be unimaginable. It would be far, far worse than if I had never left at all.

For better or worse, I am committed. I am also woefully unprepared and my success is now dependent upon the gifts this demon has to offer.

Fur would not be such a terrible thing, would it? I already shaved my body daily. This would just be one extra step to my morning and evening routines.

“Do it,” I command.

She claps her hands in delight.

“Close your eyes," she drawls, "and try not to think. Don't fight it.”

I close my eyes and stand shivering in the cold. I try to force my thoughts into quietude. It is difficult, with each stray thought I supress, it seems that two more appear to take its place.

I feel a jolt and a tingling feeling spreads throughout my body. I know instantly that it is the demon's magic, writhing and worming its way through me.

Don't fight it. Don't fight it. Don't fight it.

An itch starts at the back of my neck, spreading down my spine and across my back and down my arms and legs. It is not painful, but it itches more and more terribly with each passing second. I clench my fists tighter and tighter as it takes every shred of willpower not to scratch.

Then, so abruptly that it makes me gasp, the feeling is gone and I am left blessedly warm. I can still feel the chill of the wind, but it is a distant discomfort now, as if I really were wearing a thick winter coat.

I crack my eyes open and look down to the backs of my hands. From beneath the sleeves of my dress pale silver-grey fur pokes out, with darker spots like the rosettes of a leopard.

“Oh,” the demon gasps. “Fascinating...”

She steps forward and rubs the back of a clawed finger against the exposed fur on my neck, sending a thrill through me and setting my heart racing.

“Such lovely fur,” she croons.

#my writing #writers on tumblr #lesbian #transgender #fantasy #monster x human #transgender fairy tale #fairy tale #fantasy lesbians #fairy tale retelling #transformation #original fiction

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

「 lu guang x gn reader 」

a/n : I doubt there's many readers for this but THIS MAN OH MAH GAWDD I just started link click... every episode makes me wanna cry when xiaoshi punched him and instead of getting angry he comforted him MY GOODNESS

warnings : a little ooc, reader in hospital...

____________________________________________

" you seem pretty spaced out lately, lu. " xiaoshi playfully punches the white haired boy on the shoulder as he drops his phone from the impact.

" sorry... it's just... remember y/n l/n? " lu guang looks directly at cheng xiaoshi as he ponders for a while before replying.

" yeah, they were from our school though they transferred away halfway. what's up? "

" their brother texted me the other day, said they're in the hospital and well... "

" you've always liked them huh, want me to go to the past and confess on your behalf? " xiaoshi playfully winks as lu guang sighs out of relief. giving xiaoshi the photo he printed out earlier of you and him in the classroom.

" yeah, dont mess up. got it? " lu guang raise his hand.

" got it. " xiaoshi slaps his hand on lu's hand.

" was I that mesmerising in your eyes that you just had to take a picture of me and the golden hour? " you teased as you turn away from the window to look at the white haired boy as he snaps out of his gaze from you and put his phone down, mumbling a sorry.

' damn did you really take a picture without asking for permission? what a creep. ' xiaoshi teased in his head as a certain lu guang flushed red at the memory.

' they looked really pretty, now tell them you'll walk them home and confess then leave the picture. ' lu guang instructs.

" its getting late, I'll walk you home. " xiaoshi tells you as you accepts and pack your things.

exiting the school and walking behind the male, you can't help but feel nervous. xiaoshi occasionally peeks over you as lu guang mentally prepares what nonsense might sprout out of xiaoshi's mouth.

' so why do you want to confess to them? ' he asks.

' they woke up from a coma, their brother said they don't remember anything and have been crying almost every day ever since they woke up. I doubt this confession will change anything in the future but... '

' I get it, today was their last day at school. you didn't get the chance to confess as you ran away after snapping that photo. '

' you- well you're not entirely wrong. ahem focus on the task at hand, just repeat after me. '

" you're really pretty, bright like the sun. funny, kind and sweet. I'm not expecting an answer or whatever but just so you know. I love you a lot, and- " xiaoshi stopped walking as you bump onto his back, stumbling at the impact a little.

" I'm moving away tomorrow. if youre asking me to be your lover then I'm not so sure if a long distance relationship will work out. one might fall for another in the long run. " he's staring at you as you fidget at your spot. this was all so nerve-wracking to you.

" I know that. it's okay, I don't need to be your lover now or ever, but I hope you always remember that there's a guy that fell for you and that you're amazing no matter what. " xiaoshi can't help but sympathize with his friend's possible one-sided love.

" I-I'm sorry, " hearing the apology shocked both xiaoshi and lu guang, tears pricked onto the corners of your eyes as you aggressively wipe your eyes.

" I'm sorry, it's just... " crouching down to cover your face to cry wasn't helping the words come out of your mouth.

xiaoshi bends down to your height, " it's okay really! " he attempts to pat your head in hopes to comfort you but it only made your heart sank deeper.

" you're a sweet guy despite your h-hard and cold exterior. I truly loved you too but we can't be together! not now or ever, so many things might change for you and me. I'll be moving away tomorrow, to a far-away place. you and I- we won't make it as lovers with those circumstances! " lu guang sighs heavily as xiaoshi mentally panics, ' hello? lines quick! '

" umm, I don't know what to say besides goodluck on your departure. " hearing that, your sniffles stop as you glare at the man infront of you.

' don't say that idiot, tell them it's alright. I'll find them in the future eventually, just wait for me. ' so xiaoshi repeats after him.

hearing the words, renders you speechless at his confidence to find you. you broke into a smile as lu guang body's reacts with a faint blush on his face, heck even the real lu guang looking at you from xiaoshi's eyes was blushing. after the so-called confession session and successfully bringing you home. xiaoshi exits the photo.

" thank you, " lu guang peeks over to his friend sprawled out next to him on the couch.

" wanna visit them or what? " xiaoshi challenged to which lu guang sighs before agreeing.

after texting your brother for details, here they were starring at your figure looking out the window.

" am I still mesmerising in your eyes? why don't you take a picture of me and the golden hour, lu guang. " hearing the softness of your voice, he rushes by your side to give you a squeeze.

you feel his tears fall on you as you return the hug, you're home now. wherever he is, your heart will call it home. xiaoshi watches as his friend cries for you before walking away to give you guys more privacy.

" sorry, I can't help the tears. you- you remembered, " he stops crying to look at you. you were wearing a soft smile on your face, the faint blush was there but with the glowing sun behind you. you looked ethereal.

" I'm happy to see you too, waking up from a dream... that confession was what I last dreamed of, lu guang... I love you so much, " he takes a seat next to your bed, following to grab your cold hands with his larger and warmer hands.

" I love you just as much too. after you left, my heart couldn't move on from you. it longs for you, I miss you so much. I didn't want to bother nor distract you when you moved, so I didn't text you. when your brother texted about today, I can't help but feel the need to visit... I wasn't sure if doing so was right until a friend suggested it. "

" ha, that friend must've been cheng xiaoshi ? I think that's his name, "

" yeah, " he smiles fondly at today's fiasco.

" I've got so much to tell you, but for now... I'm feeling a little sleepy... " you mumbled out as you slowly changed position, moving one of your hands out of his hold. falling asleep with one hand of his in front of your face.

he watches fondly, your heartbeat in the monitor seems fine. he didn't change your future, seeing as the major event where you were in the hospital still exists. heck, you must've been telling on your brother about him despite not talking to lu guang eversince but, for your brother to even bother to reach out to him like that... does that mean you were fated to meet him once more? he can't help but smile a little at the thought.

" I've got so much to tell you too, " he says as he closes his eyes and places his head above the arm, holding onto your hand. he falls asleep from the sounds in the room. how he truly can't wait for things to play out. he didn't really change the future now, did he?

#lu guang x reader #link click x reader #shiguang daili ren x reader #sakumz.pdf

[fatehbaz]

Eliseo Barnett begins the short trip from the little town of Punta Cheuca to the vast Isla de Tiburon -- the largest island in the Gulf of California and part of the Indigenous Comcaac territory. [...] Erika Barnett [...] watches dozens of herons, seagulls and small coastal birds bask in the shallow waters [...]. Beyond them stretches a dense mass of green leaves -- part of a huge mangrove estuary on Tiburon Island. It’s one of about a dozen interconnected stands in the Infiernillo Channel. A narrow stretch of ocean between the island and the Sonoran coast, entirely within Comcaac territory, the channel is known for its biodiversity and abundant seagrass meadows and is a protected wetland area.

Mangroves cover some 960 hectares — or nearly 2,400 acres — of the channel.

“It’s like a kindergarten,” Barnett said.

A local conservation leader, she compared the mangrove forest to a nursery, providing a protected habitat for important marine species like crabs, shrimp and fish, as well as birds and sea turtles. [...]

It all starts with collecting mangrove propagules — the long, slender green and brown stalks that grow from mangrove flowers — from the estuaries and beaches in the Infiernillo Channel. Walking along the beach on Tiburon Island, Erkia Barnett occasionally stoops down to pick up a stray mangrove propagule. She collects the ones that wash ashore. [...] “It occurred to us to pick them up and keep them” until they sprouted roots, she said. After propagating the plants, her family took them to the El Paraiso estuary nearby.

The conservation team’s current project is much the same — collecting, propagating and reforesting the plants — but on a larger scale. This year, they collected more than 6,000 plants from the channel. [...]

“Climate change is one of the biggest factors impacting the mangrove forests,” Barnett said. Increased heat, drought and rising sea levels are all taking a toll on the plants.

“It is the extreme of extremes, my goodness,” said ecologist Laura Smith Monti, with the Arizona-based Borderlands Restoration Network and The University of Arizona. “The mangroves stands in the Infiernillo Channel are the northernmost mangroves that occur on the West coast for sure.” [...]

And so far, the stands in the Infiernillo Channel are relatively healthy, likely because the protection afforded by the Comcaac community, Monti said. [...] The Comcaac have relied on these mangroves for thousands of years — using them as a source of food, medicine and building materials. [...] This year, after the plants grow large enough in the water-filled Coke bottles, they will be transplanted into soil for another six months or so — a new technique Barnett learned from one of the few other mangrove conservation teams in the region. [...] “It’s something relatively new,” said Milka Valenzuela, who has been running the mangrove reforestation project at the El Soldado estuary near the beach town of San Carlos since 2017. [...]

“I want to continue so that my children and my nieces and nephew might want to follow my example and continue taking care of the mangrove and the environment here in our territory,” [Barnett] said. “Because this ecosystem is important now just for our people, but for the world.”

---

Headline, images, captions, and text as published by: Kendal Blust. “Indigenous Comcaac conservation group works to restore vital mangrove habitat in Sonora.” Fronteras. 23 November 2022. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph contractions added by me.]

[storiesundercandlelight]

My Dream

Morpheus x F!Reader

Plot: He had come to you so many times, the man in your dreams, delighting you each time, leaving you each morning as you opened your eyes to face your lonely life in the waking world, without realizing, that the King of Dreams had in fact fallen for you.

Warnings: None, reference to The Jungle Book, Morpheus is in love.

Optional music go listen to:

The Blue Planet - Hans Zimmer (dancing in snow scene)

Arrival of the birds - Cinematic Orchestra (beach scene)

The sound of a fire crackling gently holds your attention, the heat warming you, the warm glow illuminating the otherwise dark room of your victorian London home. But a sharp breeze dances over your skin, your hair flowing as you turn to the open door leading outside. Your eyes note the flakes of snow falling onto the floor, melting instantly in the heat of the house.

A knowing smile tugs at your lips as excitement races through you, your feet soundless against the floor as you pull open the door and rush out into the tempting winter. Your feet do not feel the icy touch of the snow as you move along the tree covered path, the silence of the forest a small comfort as you smile as the snowfall. You come to a clearing, you know it well. White blooms sprout from the snow covered ground, untouched by the cold, falling snow twists around you and you finally give in to this feeling, twirling in circles with it, your thin silk night gown twisting around with you as you dance with the snowflakes, a light giggle bubbling from your lips. A hand meets yours and your eyes find his. He is such a contrast against the white landscape around you, his black coat and hair like ink on paper. You smile, he returns it.

You continue to move, pulling him with you, although he doesn't try to stop you, twirling you around as he moves with you, reveling in your laughter as you twist. He pulls you close, your foreheads pressing together as you slow your movements, eyes closing, noses brushing lightly, lips teasing to touch. "This is a dream" his voice seems to echo all around you.

"The best kind" You smile, eyes meeting his as his hands comes to rest against your face, holding your gaze to him.

"Wake up"

The dull sunshine of the early Autumn morning peak through your windows as your eyes adjust to the room. You sit up, looking down at your gown, your bedsheets, your room. You couldn't help the same ache of disappointment that followed waking up from dreams of him. You moved to the window, fingers lightly, gently pulling back the thin material to gaze outside, your London street looking back at you, snowless.

A purr caught your attention and you looked to your little black friend, yellow eyes watching you. "Just a dream Bagheera" You sighed, scratching behind his ears.

Morpheus watched from the park across from your townhouse, leaning by a tree as you walked to the table in the living room, steaming cup of tea in hand. He watched you sit, pulling your legs up against your chest as you opened up your newspaper, blowing on your tea to cool it before sipping gingerly at the hot brew.

A flutter and presence on his shoulder he could have gone without signaled Matthew's arrival. "I thought I might find you here" Morpheus did not answer, his eyes focused on the way your fingers delicately moved over the edge of the newspaper, readying yourself to turn the page. "Why don't you go to her?"

"She would not have me"

"You know that is a lie, you visit her dreams more than anyone else's, and you know how she feels when she sees you there" Matthew was no fool, he could see clearer than a summer sky that his master was in love, Morpheus knew how transparent that was. His gaze lowered, fingers pulling the small pouch of sand from his coat. For a moment he didn't move, scared that his attempt to bring you to him would not work. But as he felt the golden grains fall against his fingers he did not allow himself anymore time for doubt, bringing his hand up to his lips before blowing, the sand flying into the air and into the open window of your home. The words bored you, yet you continued to read them, trying to keep to a routine. The truth was, you'd never felt more alone than you do right now. Trying desperately each day to enjoy the smallest of things to cloud the fact that you were by yourself.

You placed your cup down, your fingers still holding onto the rim as you scanned the page looking for something more interesting to read. That was until something soft touched your skin, your eyes snapped to your wrist, widening as you took in the shape of a butterfly, sitting peacefully on you, wings stretching as you froze. Then another flew past you, exciting the first enough to follow it, both butterflies waltzed in the air in front of you before flying off across the room.

You couldn't say exactly what made you move but you did, following quietly into the hallway, watching as the butterflies disappeared into the cupboard under the stairs. Your looked back into the living room, your feline companion purring on the worn persian rug, quite contempt in his slumber, before you rushed after the butterflies. Your hands gripping the door, a moment, a deep breath and you pulled the door open just enough to walk through.

You couldn't help the disbelieving gasp that left your lips as you looked over the coastal beach before you, the sky was a pale grey but the water was still, waves lapping quietly over the dark sand. You also couldn't help the smile that broke across your face as you raced to the water, lifting the silk of your dress just in time to save it from the cold water as it splashed against your feet, pulling a delighted shriek from you. Morpheus himself couldn't help but smile at your delight as he watched you walk through the water, your face moving around to follow the butterflies still fluttering around you.

Turning you gazed at the large gates that took up the horizon, smiling even more you made your way towards them, the dark sand sinking into footprints as you moved along the dunes. The gate stood tall before you, your neck craning as you leant back to look up along the intricate carvings. Your hands reached out, flattening against the cool ivory, you pushed. But they did not open, you tired again, but the gates were too heavy. Letting your hands drop to your side you frowned.

"Would you like me to open them?" You were momentarily surprised to see him again here, you had seen him so often in your dreams but here it feels more real. So real it frightened you for a moment, so overwhelmed by his presence you asked:

"Are you dangerous?"

"Very"

"Do you mean me harm?"

"Never" He smiled gently and you felt your own lips lifting, how mesmerized you always were by him, how eager to be near him. He reached forward, but his hand stopped, hanging half way between you as he watched you, uncertain in himself. You smiled gently at this, reaching for his hand, his skin warm against yours as you brought it up to rest against your cheek, your fingers lacing above his. You look up at him now, so close to each other, his eyes boring into yours with such longing you have never felt before it feels like it will swallow you whole. Your eyes drift closed as your foreheads come together, noses brushing against each other, a stance you know so well, but this time you could smell him, feel the heat of his skin, the tickle of his breath against your skin.

You sigh, a contempt smile on your face as you whisper. "My dream" Morpheus letting out his own sigh but of relief replies. "My Love" "Don't wake me up"

"Not for anything"

The sound of the gates opening behind you pulls you away from Morpheus, your body freezing once again in awe as you stare at the kingdom in front of you, more beautiful than anything you could have imagine, the palace before you rivaling the most vivid imagination. You look at the bridge leading to the palace, and the same excitement as before creeps through you and you move to reach it but a hand on your wrist stops you.

"If you enter, you will not be able to leave again, not as who you are now"

"Who will I be?"

"My queen" You stand still for a moment, contemplation flashing across your features as you consider the weight of this decision. But just as easily you begin to remember your lonely townhouse, your lonely life spend longing for a love that never comes.

"What about-"

"Bagheera is in the palace awaiting you, although I may have…changed him a little" You raised an eyebrow in question, noting the small smile on Morpheus face. "I believe he is more fitting to his name now…larger" The idea of a panther awaiting you in a palace that might be your home brought your excitement racing back, with one final look behind Morpheus, the doorway from under your staircase still in the distance you turned back to the Dreaming stepping over the threshold. You smiled brightly before gripping Morpheus hand and pulling him with you as you ran to the bridge, soft grass now cushioning your steps, you take in a deep breath as you near the gate, stopping to take in the waterfalls falling from the hands holding the bridge above the water.

You feel a tingling across your skin and your gaze flicks down, golden sand sweeps around your body, over your hands and up your arms, you turn to Morpheus worrying etched on your face. "You are safe"

You feel it inside you now, a connection, to him. The sand disappearing into your skin, inky black soaking up the fabric of your dress until all you see is the night sky against your skin, your hair flowing in the sandstorm around you discoloring until each strand matches the whitest star.

You are different, new, just as he said. You turn to Morpheus his eyes never leaving yours as you move towards him. "A queen?"

"Queen of Dreams"

You wonder if this time when you kiss you will feel him, if his lips will feel soft against yours unlike the ghost of a kiss that haunts your dreams. You decide to take that chance, placing your lips against his.

You feel it. You feel it because this time, it is no longer a dream.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #netflix the sandman #sandman #the sandman #king of dreams #dream x reader #dream the endless #dream of the endless

[magicoldcottage]

The Green Man

The Green Man is a fascinating and enigmatic ancient figure that has appeared in art, architecture, and mythology for centuries. But who is he, and what does he represent?

In this post, I explore the origins, symbolism, and cultural significance of the Green Man, as well as some of the places the image or Motif has been used.

What is the Green Man?

As in the example above, the Green Man is usually depicted as a human face made of foliage. Art historians describe this type of motif as a "foliate head". The Green Man can be found in various forms and styles, ranging from realistic to abstract, from grotesque to serene and despite being called a man the motif is actually gender neutral with examples also in female. There have been examples using animals like satyrs or centaurs but these are normally associated to Dionysus.

Can I use the Motif in my practice?

The motif simply represents, the spirit of nature, the cycle of life, and the connection between humanity and the natural world. As such it is perfect for any path of modern craft as a symbol of our respect. It is not connected to any specific practice and there is no "cultural appropriation" issues to be concerned about.

One of little known sides of this Motif is the connection to luck, either in Wealth or Good health. Strangely the practice saw you simply rubbing his nose in passing.  See link at the end of this post for an example from Crewe Hall.

Does the symbol represent a Deity.

The Green Man is not a single character, and despite what you might have heard, there is little evidence that he was a pagan deity in his own right. Modern druidic practice has recently adopted the motif, but there are no ancient examples in the UK to back this up. Instead, it should simply be seen as a symbol of our connection to nature. Over the generations, he has often associated with other Nature deities such as Dionysus, Osiris, Cernunnos, Frey, Pan, Flora, and Gaia.

image credit ASOR.org

So Where did the Green Man come from?

The earliest known examples of the Green Man date back to the 2nd century CE, when he appeared in the ruins of Hatra, a city in modern Iraq (shown above), and in a mosaic in the Great Palace of Constantinople, in modern Turkey. He also appeared in Romanesque and Gothic architecture across Europe, especially in England and France, where he was carved on churches, cathedrals, castles, and manor houses. He was particularly popular in the 13th to 15th centuries, when he reached the peak of his artistic expression and diversity.

His use on so many churches and cathedrals is thought to be a way of or appeasing the local population of pagans who respected the motif as an aid to converting them to the new religion. As mentioned, the image was seen by the pagans as an incredibly lucky symbol, so adding it to a church could also have been seen as a way to bring good luck to the building.

How is the Green Man portrayed in art?

The Green Man has inspired many artists throughout history and across cultures, who have given him different interpretations and meanings. Some of the most famous and influential examples of the Green Man in art are:

The Bamberg Horseman, a 13th-century sculpture in the Bamberg Cathedral, Germany, that shows a knight on horseback with a foliate head supporting the spire.

The Green Man of Rosslyn Chapel made famous by the DaVinci code, a 15th-century carving in the Scottish chapel, that shows a man with vines emerging from his mouth and wrapping around his head and body.

The Green Man of Notre Dame, a 19th-century restoration of a 13th-century carving in the Paris cathedral, that shows a man with oak leaves and acorns covering his face and hair.

The Green Man of Kilpeck Church, a 12th-century carving in the Herefordshire church, England, that shows a man with a mischievous grin and leaves sprouting from his mouth and eyes.

The Green Man of Sintra, a 16th-century painting in the National Palace of Sintra, Portugal, that shows a man with a crown of leaves and flowers and a green complexion.

The Green Man of Glastonbury, a 20th-century sculpture in the remains of Glastonbury Abbey, England, that shows a man with a serene expression and a wreath of leaves and berries.

What is the significance of the Green Man today?

The Green Man is still a relevant and powerful symbol today, as he represents the values and ideals of environmentalism, ecology, and spirituality. He is a reminder of the beauty and importance of nature and of the need to respect and protect it. He is also a symbol of hope and resilience, as he shows that life can overcome death and that nature can regenerate and heal itself. If you are seeking a power symbol for your Altar you can't do much better than this amazing and power motif to bring you luck.

The Green Man is celebrated and honoured in various festivals, rituals, and events around the world, such as the Beltane Fire Festival in Edinburgh, Scotland, the Jack in the Green Festival in Hastings, England, the Green Man Festival in Brecon Beacons, Wales, and the Burning Man Festival in Nevada, USA. He is also a popular subject for contemporary artists, musicians, writers, and filmmakers, who continue to explore and reinterpret his meaning and message.

While many symbols have lost significance over the generations the power of the Green Man goes from strength to strength. Why not make it a part of your practice too.

Click here for the secret pagans of Crewe Hall

For more of my posts click here

#witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #magic #greenman #motif #symbols #grimoire

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXXIII

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. Chapter is on AO3 here.

Your head snapped to the terrace’s path on your left.  Your eyes traced sharp boots of black leather and bronze adornments, black pants, and a shirt of deep blue that rivaled Fontaine’s lakes with its depth.  The black leather around his neck was, in fact, a harness worn over the shirt; noticeable now only because he was without the cravat, straps snug against his form.  He held his hands behind his back but his shoulders were relaxed, at ease.

His eyes were covered, however, and you tensed.  You weren’t surprised as much as you were frustrated.  Now, after everything that happened, he had the time for this, for you?  If he’d done that from the start, from the moment he crushed your Akasha terminal, none of this would have happened.  

Was he following you, watching you?

In that case, perhaps the line between the two of them wasn’t so well-defined.

“For a supposed Archon, the little sprout’s own Akasha is ancient by modern standards.  It was easy to bypass,” the Doctor continued.

“So you eavesdropped,” you deadpanned.

The Doctor did not provide an answer immediately, instead shaking his head, the lock of hair around his earring bouncing a little with the motion.  

“I merely found security vulnerabilities in the Akasha network.  Ones that the Akademiya likely exploit for their own gain already.”

He stood on the threshold of the terrace; the only way to leave would be to jump from the balcony.  While you were exhausted, you weren’t desperate.  He was here for a reason, surely.  

Not-Zandik didn’t want to kill you as much as he wanted to control you.  That much was clear.  He might threaten you, you considered, but killing you would do nothing beneficial.

Your actual soulmate and his motivations, however, were as opaque as wood. But he’d also been there when you woke up from the nightmare, hadn’t he?  The expression on his face was burned into your retinas and while you’d ignored it the best you could, no one faked that kind of anguish.  Actors in Fontaine never came close to that intensity.

And he’d taken you somewhere else, outside of the corridors of metal grating and copper piping.  He didn’t return you to your inn, granted, but nonetheless, the real Zandik (or who you hoped was the real Zandik) tried.

Just as he had in the depths of his sitting room that night, finding a way to understand your profession in terms he could easily relate to.  

But the other had tried too.  And that got you into this very predicament.

 If you ran into the other one again, you wouldn’t know the difference, not like this.  The glimpse of his face, his true face, in your true dreams and the other day when you first woke…last night during the performance…you liked to think you might be able to tell the difference.  But it took an Archon to nudge you in the right direction to shatter the illusion.  Without that, you might have gone on forever, none the wiser.

“Show me your face,” you said at last.

The Doctor scoffed, a wry smile showing the points of his sharpened teeth.  You stepped back, putting more distance between you, but he never followed.

“The last two times my mask was absent, you tried to attack me and then proceeded to throw my attempt at helping you in my face.  So, no, I don’t think I will.”

“How do I know it’s really you , then?  You can’t blame me for being skeptical.”

“Omega’s nonsense didn’t affect your sharp retorts and ability to think, I see.”  Your brow furled and he elaborated, “The Segment.  It was meant to be the best version of my segments, ideally the last, hence the name.”

“Still didn’t answer my question.”

His masked gaze turned from you towards the barren wasteland in the distance, the spires of wood and the wall beyond.  You watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath once, twice, before he brought a hand up, poised over the release of the mask near his ear.

“I’ll remove my mask on two conditions.  The first: you tell me how you know my name.”

“And the second?”

His reply didn’t come as quickly as you anticipated and you half-wondered if he expected you to push back against the first term.

“A walk through the gardens, only as far as the Akademiya itself.  Omega stole an opportunity that I should have taken and I wish to rectify that.  It’s not as if either of us asked for this bond, after all, but the cards have been dealt.”

You could read between the lines and surmise that, for someone who held such disdain for the Archons and Celestia, he was making the best of the situation.  You dared not hope, as the skip of your heart told you to, that he was doing this for you .  

They were not the same but you would be remiss to think that Omega was entirely his own person, that he had not been influenced by traits that Zandik himself held, too.  After all, wasn’t it selfish of him to hide his rank from you, his chosen profession, his Segments ?  He was not protecting you by hiding those: the last few days had proven that.   He was distant, even in his most excited moments, never letting the mask, metaphorical or otherwise, fall too far.  

Part of you longed for the ignorance of weeks ago, when he’d taken your hand in the dream and read your calluses to identify your instrument as easily as one read a book.  When it was just the two of you.

“Alright,” you acquiesced.  “He…Omega referred to you as ‘Zandik’.  In fact, he thought it quite funny that I didn’t know it.  Probably why it was the only name he gave me to…call him…”

Hearing it aloud, putting that into words and seeing the way the Doctor’s hand twitched for a moment, felt as if you’d confessed to a crime.  Both of you had been done a great injustice, you realized; it was no wonder he felt as he did.  He’d barely wanted to tell you his Harbinger rank, let alone anything else.  

A name was a life left behind, intimate.  It has escaped your lips so easily without ever knowing how sacred it might have been.

He unclipped the mask, his brow was set low in annoyance but you would know those eyes anywhere.  Beautiful garnets glared at you in the early morning sun and you found yourself wishing that you’d never seen them at all.  Then you wouldn’t be able to remember that the gazes from that dream weren’t him.  His copy could never truly capture the glimmers of perpetual curiosity, the passion tempered to burn just below the surface.

“Omega leaves…much to be desired as far as keeping his own identity separate from my own.  For however much it’s worth, he went far beyond his parameters.  You were supposed to be left alone.”

To your relief, he didn’t bring the hand holding the mask back to his face.  Instead, he brought his arm back behind him and turned slightly, facing west,  his gaze out towards the desert once more, pensive.  His hands held nothing but his mask but couldn’t seem to remain still, occasionally toying with the accessory idly.

As far as you could tell, he didn’t have a weapon, but that didn’t matter much.  He’d waved a hand and made his own weapon disappear during your first in-person encounter and you’d managed to summon it from thin air.  All it would take was the wrong word and you’d be back to dodging shots from floating needle cannons or avoiding a slam of his claymore.  Now did not seem the time for a sparring session.

“I can’t imagine you can be gone much longer without raising suspicion again.”

The words were confident, self-assured, an order without needing to phrase it as one.  You took a hesitant few steps towards him before both of you began your descent back down to the Akademiya.  He complied with your request; it was your turn to hold up your end to his conditions.  The Doctor stepped to the right, accommodating you on his left side, acting as a buffer between you and the edge of the platform.

For a moment, both of you were silent; you could count on a single hand the number of dream-sharing moments where he was this quiet.  The ache in your chest lessened a little, soothed by the notion that you were awake, experiencing one another’s presence.  Parts of you were still confused, unsure if you should stay or run as far as you could.

This might be the only chance you ever got again, you thought.

“Perhaps you can clarify something for me,” the Doctor said.  You turned your head towards him slightly and caught him looking out of his peripheral vision at you, waiting for your attention.  “You want nothing to do with me yet you debated in my favor almost as well as any private attorney from Liyue or Fontaine.  It would be far easier to condemn me instead.  Why bother arguing in favor of someone you so clearly detest?”

You caught the tinge of derision in his voice, as if mocking you for taking his side.  

No immediate response came to mind, not a coherent one.  It felt like second nature, correcting the Archon; he was your soulmate, regardless, and therefore it was only fair that you gave a different perspective.  None of the words were spoken out of a sense of duty or responsibility; you had experienced other parts of him and those could not go unspoken in an analysis.  It was not unlike a composition missing the rich brass tones to round out the sharpness of the higher woodwinds.  One could not glean a whole picture from only a partial experience.

For a moment, you recalled a picnic on top of a mountain with his head in your lap; the way his fingers fixed your hair after removing your Akasha (although it did not save you); the way his presence seemed to bring out wave after wave of your own passion and showed you an entirely different world.  None of those could ever be replaced or replicated, no matter how hard one tried.

“I don’t detest you,” you said, looking back at him for a moment.  “At least not this you.  I don’t know you well enough to hate you.  Although, your curiosity about my fighting skills during our first meeting and neglecting to tell me about Omega don’t exactly work in your favor.”

When he didn’t speak, you continued.  “Why do you care what I say of you?  My opinion and perspective of you don’t really matter, in the end.”

“But they do, lest you forget the possibilities in the event one discovers you are as well-connected as you are.”

You reached a lower terrace, the path forking to either allow you to continue on the exterior of the tree or to weave into it, stone pavilions housing more beautiful flowers you’d never seen before.  Your mind could only think back to the previous time you were here and a silent sigh of relief escaped your lips when the Doctor opted to remain on the exterior path.

He brought one hand out from behind his back, pressing a hand to his chest for emphasis.  “I am first and foremost a scholar.  I would be remiss to not consider your motivations; after all, you did press the matter of my rank.”

His hand continued to gesture as he spoke and the knots inside you loosened a little more at their familiarity.  Omega always seemed a little too stiff in those movements, you recognized.

“Such knowledge would be invaluable to you, easily leveraged if you knew how and where to use it.  However, your parting words beg the question of the necessary civil tolerance, if not favorable affection for one another, that situation requires.  It is clear that there is neither.”

There could have been , you wanted to say.  There still could be.

Even now, hope clung to you like the humid air, sticky and irritating.

“That’s not entirely fair nor true,” you countered instead.  “After all, it’s not like we’ve even tried.  Or had the opportunity to.”

The Doctor shook his head, the lock of hair encircling his earring moving softly with the motion.  You only caught the flash of sunlight off of the crystal as it swayed into view.

“The dreams were ours to manipulate and do with as we pleased.  You cannot argue that they were, in fact, not ideal.  It is why Omega succeeded for as long as he did.  Tell me, can you recall when we first met?”

The dreams themselves were not long after you’d received your Vision, that much was certain.  Once you had begun to form your own path, or what felt like your own path, and broke out from underneath your patron’s thumb.  But no…that couldn’t be right.  You recalled a tall figure introduced to you during your tenure in that house…a trip to Sumeru…a boy and an imaginary friend in a verdant field on a summer day…

“As I thought,” the Doctor murmured.  “It was probably once clear to you.”

“I know for certain that the dreams were later for me, later than what most experience.  It’s probably the same for you?”

He gave a quiet scoff.  “Far worse, in fact.  A discussion for another time.”

You cast a slightly incredulous look at him.  After all, little would surprise you at this point.  He’d created essentially a clone of himself, was probably one of the best minds of your time, and was the Second Harbinger of the Fatui.

“I was able to follow Omega’s trail before you woke up; I saw parts of the illusions, many of your memories.  Omega has, for brevity’s sake, altered your memories in a way that is not unlike the way one grafts one branch of a tree to another.  Perhaps with the intention of providing a stronger foundation to make the illusion stronger; I have not yet determined his reasoning.”

You stopped, just as the path curved into the Divine Tree, as if your own Geo power had suddenly made your feet as heavy as stone.  Not only were your memories changed, potentially permanently, but he’d…he must have seen the years you only ever alluded to, kept locked away from him for so long.  You’d never told anyone the extent to which Fontaine’s nobility ripped you apart, not even those you asked to help you find a way out.  It went unspoken, understood in glances and the way one fixed another’s collar or shirttail, in dinners brought to one’s door and swaddles of bandages and smuggled medication.

“What do you mean, you saw my memories?” you asked, the words sharp.

He at least had the decency to look sympathetic, a little guilty, even.

“The method doesn’t matter much but dreams and memories are two sides of the same coin.  In order to determine and understand what Omega was doing, I had to access your memories.  Those were whole, untouched, so I can only conclude he never found them nor changed them.  It was not my intention to dig up things you wished not to share.  We have that in common, however: the world was not kind to either of us.”

You brought the inside of your cheek between your teeth, nodding before you continued walking.  The Archon’s title for him, Outcast , rang in your head and you recalled the young boy, tearing his shirt with ease like he knew what to do to treat his bloodied hands.  It wasn’t the exact same but you understood the distance he kept a little better.

Something tickled the back of your brain.  You hadn’t dreamed last night, either.  Was that connected?

“Will I ever get them back?  My real memories?” you dared to ask, shattering the silence.

“Given your cognitive awareness of their falsehood, it’s equally possible that, in time, you will regain them naturally.”

“Similar to temporary amnesia?”

The curve into the Divine Tree provided a moment of solace from the rising sun.  A few crystal flies floated by, their wings shining with their imbued Dendro power.  The flowers here were different, sweeter in scent, and without thinking, you reached out and brushed your fingers across the petals.  Unlike the previous experience, and unlike his Segment, the Doctor did not correct you.

“The only way to know, however, would be to let time take its course.  Theoretically, it may be possible to put things back in their rightful place,” he said, red eyes falling onto the manicured flower beds, gloved fingers caressing another flower.  “In the same way one organizes files of paperwork or books on a shelf.  It is not something I have extensive experience with; I have copied and extracted memories but I’ve never had much of a need for the reverse.  That is, of course, not to say that it cannot be done.  I find the notion quite intriguing.  But if it were to be done, by my hand at that, I would prefer to have more knowledge than mere speculation to repair the damage done.”

The Doctor’s fingers found the flower’s stem and you watched as a quick glaze of frost overtook the bloom before he angled the stem, snapping it with ease.  The peach petals were encapsulated in a thin layer of ice, so smooth it appeared to be made of glass.  He held it out to you, crimson eyes locked onto yours.  For someone so loquacious, his silence spoke volumes that words never could.

Your fingers found the stem, brushing his in the process, finding them warmer than you expected.  And yet they never melted the chilled flower, an eternal trapping of ice.

“I am not well-versed in these situations but you need only ask and I will fix any deficiencies, any problems,” the Doctor said.  “Whatever they may be.”

You caught a flicker of earnestness in his gaze, a smoldering promise that he would, in fact, do whatever was in his power (and perhaps beyond it) to make something as perfect as it could be.  As it was meant to be.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips and the moment was gone as quickly as it came as he continued onwards.  Your fingers still burned from where they touched his, as if he hadn’t worn gloves at all.  The rest of the walk was quiet, during which you managed to pry that he begrudgingly held a Cryo Vision.  That for all his hatred for supposed Divinity, even he could not escape neither a Vision nor a soulmate, and he failed to find humor in the irony of his own heresy.

Eventually, the paved stone began to turn back into worn bark and the Doctor stopped.  The doors to the Akademiya were still a ways ahead but his boots never left the smooth pathway.

“I thought you said you’d said to the Akademiya?” you asked, more curious than anything.

“Even at this hour, the foyer is likely to be busy, and I would like to keep my anonymity, such as it is, a little longer,” he said.  “Especially considering Omega has been actively working with the Sages.  It would raise too many questions.”

“I see.”

You twirled the flower between your fingers.  Cryo, in this state, wouldn’t melt, he revealed.  A perfect preservation.  You couldn’t look at him.  He’d been forthright with you, willing to fix what he could, however it could be done.  But to do that, he would need to know the extent of the damage, wouldn’t he?

“We’re heading to Port Ormos, and then we’re leaving Sumeru in two days’ time,” you offered.  “I…I don’t know if I can go back to all of it, though.  It feels like I’m acting when I’m around everyone, repeating motions because that’s what others are doing.  Things don’t feel the same.  And I didn’t dream last night.”

His eyes were on you, watching.  Just as they had the night before, from the recesses of the performance hall.

“Not even that I don’t remember my dream.  There was just…nothing, I closed my eyes and woke up missing something, but I didn’t know what.  I don’t know if it’s related to,” you waved a hand near your head, “whatever happened.  But I’m unsure if…”

“If you can access the dreams as before,” the Doctor finished.

“Precisely..”

He nodded slowly.

“One way or another, our paths were intended to cross.  From my understanding, that’s how these things work, eventually one finds another,” he said.  “But I’ve never heard of the dreams ceasing.  It stands to reason that Omega’s actions would have affected you in that regard and in others.”

The Doctor pulled the mask out from behind him, his hands finally in front of him for the first time all morning.

“Perhaps we don’t need them at all.  Dreams are nothing but illusions, fantasies, filled with what was and what could be if the laws of the world did not confine us.  Two days until you leave Sumeru, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll meet you in Port Ormos before you depart.  Should you find your previous life insufferable, we will find a more fitting solution.”

His tone was firm, definitive, and you could only nod in agreement.  The Doctor went to raise his mask to his face and then paused, the accessory hovering just below his sharp jaw.

“When we are alone, you may use my name, if it helps.  I do not often get to hear it and I do not want it to be tainted for you.”

Before you could agree, or even protest, he covered his face, his eyes once again obscured behind his mask.  He raised a hand to his chest and bowed slightly at the waist, and despite the polite gesture, you knew a dismissal when you saw one.  You turned and headed back down the rest of the path alone.  

It wasn’t until you were well within the Akademiya’s foyer that you no longer felt eyes on you, attempting to memorize every part of you.

Until then, Zandik.

#long post #longfic #dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au #this chapter is like 3.7k please kill me

[kanmom51]

Run BTS Next Top Genius Special Part 2

I was contemplating if to write a whole separate post here or if to just reblog and add my own two cents.

Went with option no. 1 just cause my fingers, they were itching.

And what is it I'm talking about here?

The rock scissors paper game and the whole discussion about JK's loyalties.

Cause why enjoy the show? Let's go look for how to tear JK down, it's the new pass time for some parts of this fandom.

So, let's join the conversation, shall we?

These people are utterly ridiculous. 

Instead of enjoying the damn episode, which was hilarious, btw, they are busy making claims about JK’s supposed behavior.  Judging by little snippets they see on Twitter or TikTok instead of seeing the full picture.

*Note to those ridiculous humans:

Watch the damn episode.  Full original content people.  Do you not remember that rule?  And if it’s moving too fast for you, then watch it again, goddammit, before sprouting your nonsense. 

I can tell you that I did.  Watched it again to figure out what exactly was going on there.  What JK was doing.  What he was telling Tae.  What he told JM before the last round.  His explanation at the end about his behaviour (man just knows he can’t lie, lol).

WATCH IT AGAIN IF YOU NEED TO !! 

Just a couple of things I wanted to add to this convo.

JK studied the cards, he did try to.  Went to Tae and literally told him the truth.  “Leave the card you are winning on and change the others”.

Strange behavior you might think, being on JM’s team.  But he explains it at the end:

See, I'm not sure the translation is accurate or understandable, lol. But I do think what he meant, bottom line, is that he wouldn't be able to lie and get away with it, lol.

JK did what he knew to do, stick to the truth.

But the end round, telling JM to trust his gut – twice.  That was when he showed his true hand.  This is after he says to everyone they need to keep a poker face, which they certainly did not…

2nd time:

Tae’s shock when he sees JK is on JM’s team, lol.

And the editors…although I do need to have a talk to them with some of the clear Jikook cuts going on during this episode, with this one they did well…

And I rest my case. That face. He just can't hide it. So, the strategy was: tell the truth, don't get caught, don't be obvious (like go stand next to JM and walk between the two) and trust JM's gut to change the cards around.

Did kind of work... Just saying...

JM’s reaction is also something people overlook.

How worked up he was about Jin and Hobi being on his team.  Both of them were hectic on his side of the game while JK who never set  foot on JM’s side was on his team, and JM’s reaction to that? 

Lol, non existent. 

Nothing. 

Like the man wasn’t surprised one little bit.

So, either those two are doing the telepathy thing, or maybe we missed one of their multitude of signs of communicating with each other with no words, cause it looked like JM just knew. 

Perhaps it was the hand shake at the beginning, maybe there was a little hand squeeze going on or the eye contact (short but meaningful? Lol), or that “trust your gut” bit at the end did it…who knows. 

But felt to me like JM just knew JK was on his side of the fence (not only in spirit but by the gods of the game).

When you look at the footage it actually looks like JM was looking for Tae’s reaction when JK goes on his side and found it highly amusing. Just saying.

I also love the way JK is fixing up the covers over JM’s cards when JM was pulling his tantrum over thinking Hobi was working against him, lol.

Also, just wanted to add these just cause they are really pretty:

A-ha...

Go watch the episode if you haven't seen it yet.

It's bloody hilarious.

#Jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #Jk #JM #Jimin #Jikook run bts #jikook run bts next top genius

[luminnara]

Marko x Harpy!reader | 18+ ONLY

Request: Mine is weird, but since Marko likes pigeons, I like to imagine him with a scary, human eating harpy mate 👀 If you're down, could I get some headcannons or a little drabble about them experiencing like a "harpy heat" or like the reader sees his vamp face and watches him kill for the first time, and is overcome with joy, pride, and lust because her mate? Is so strong? And tough? Strong mate = strong babies. Also he has a shiny / colorful coat, so I like to think that that makes him all the more attractive to her, like when a male bird flaunts its feathers to attract a mate.

MY INBOX IS DEFINITELY OPEN FOR MORE LOST BOYS REQUESTS, ESPECIALLY WITH MONSTERS!

I kinda imagined this harpy style as the kind from world of warcraft tbh so use that as refernce if you want! The descriptions are kinda vague

Warnings: smut, mating cycles/heat, monster stuff, violence/vampire stuff u kno the type lol, some breeding kink stuff

It was love at first sight.

Those golden curls…

Those mischievous eyes…

Those shiny, wiggly squid lures on the shoulders of his jacket…

The moment you met Marko, you were absolutely hooked. You knew coming to the seaside town of Santa Carla was a good move—it was chaotic and fun and full of prey—but the second you saw him, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. He was perfect, and the longer you watched him from rooftops and trees, the more you knew you had to have him.

It was a good thing he felt the same way about the weird bird creature he had glimpsed a few times, too.

Marko had a thing for birds. He liked them because he admired their plumage, and if the flock of pigeons he kept back in the cave was any indication, birds liked him, too. So when he caught a glimpse of something one night that wasn’t quite avian and wasn’t quite human, he was totally hooked…and when he managed to catch you off guard, something no human could ever do, you were delighted to find that he was something else entirely.

You spent a whole night together, just chatting and flying and comparing diets. Vampires liked to drain their victims, only needing their blood to survive, whereas you liked a little more substance in your meals. He could fly, but he didn’t need to grow wings or flap his arms, while you sprouted beautiful dark feathers. He couldn’t survive in the sunlight, and you just preferred hunting at nighttime because your eyes were sensitive. The two of you were different, but the same, and after that first night, you refused to leave his side for very long.

The others grew used to you. Paul liked to pet your feathers when he was high out of his mind, and you didn’t mind sitting with him while he came back down to earth. Dwayne was curious, nudging a book towards you one night and asking you how accurate it actually was about harpies. You answered all of his questions, noting that a lot of his assumptions were wrong, but a lot more were right. And David—well, David tolerated you, and that was more than enough to keep you sticking around. He liked having you around the den so long as you promised to take care of any intruders who might come wandering in, and you liked having a nice space close to Marko where you could roost.

Because he was still the only guy you had eyes for.

You spent date nights together out on the boardwalk, all your feathers gone as you wore your human disguise. Well, most of them, anyways; you always had some on the nape of your neck, soft little things that Marko loved to stroke with the pad of his thumb whenever he got the chance. You kept them covered with your hair or a scarf or whatever you could, lying low and out of sight from any of the hunters David liked to scare you about.

“Vampires are one thing, but a harpy? I bet they’d cut you up and piece you out and make a killing.”

And you’d throw something at him and he’d just laugh, because in a weird way, the two of you had become friends and that was his way of showing it.

Really, you weren’t that worried about hunters. You were a killing machine, just like the boys all were, and with Marko at your side, how could a human possibly hurt you?

Unfortunately, hunters in Santa Carla didn’t work alone—and they were upping their game. That was how, while out hunting one night, you found yourself backed into an alley, three of them advancing on you while your would-be victim thrashed in your grip.

“Fuck off!” You spat at them, talons sinking into the man’s shoulder as you tightened your hold.

They didn’t answer, brandishing their knives and guns as they advanced, and suddenly, you felt like a fucking idiot for hunting alone. You always hunted alone, preferring it, much the same way that the vampires liked to hunt without an audience a lot of the time...but right now, you really, really wished that Marko was there, because you were terrified. 

You glanced between the humans, a scared little shriek leaving your throat as you tried not to tremble. Luckily, someone answered--and moments later, blood was splashing across your face as something--or someone--tore through your attackers.

Your heart soared when you saw Marko tearing them apart. He was fast, more like a blur of color and blood as he ripped their spines out and spilled their guts all over the pavement. It was brutal and sadistic, his face twisted in a horrific smile that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

How did he keep getting more and more perfect?

You stared with wide eyes as he carved through the hunters, his claws shredding their flesh, his teeth sinking into their throats and ripping chunks out. You had never seen a vampire in action like this before, and you had never imagined that Marko would look so good amidst so much carnage. He was downright beautiful, his white shirt stained red with blood, his normally hazel eyes blazing bright yellow. When the human in your arms screamed in terror and you shoved him towards Marko, the vampire caught him and separated his head from his spine as easily as he could pop the flower off a dandelion. 

And you had never been more in love with him. 

He was so fast and so strong, tossing the corpses around as if they were toys. He had come to your rescue so quickly, and dealt with your assailants so brutally...you could feel warmth twisting in your belly and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You were still shivering, but now, it was less that you were trapped and afraid and more that you were slipping into a totally different state of mind. 

Marko let the body fall and tossed the head away even as its eyes continued blinking in disbelief at what had just happened. Marko’s chest was heaving and all he wanted to do was drain every last drop of blood from the corpses...but then he remembered why he was there in the first place, and he turned towards you with wild eyes. 

“You okay?” he rushed towards you, grabbing your arms as he checked you over. He couldn’t see any wounds and he couldn’t smell anything other than human blood, but when he glanced back up at your face, he saw that you were just staring. “...Babe?”

You were looking at him with an expression he had never seen on anyone before, your eyes almost hazy as you took in his features. It was the first time you had ever witnessed him vamping out, and when you finally moved, it was to trace your thumb along the sharp angles of his cheekbones. He watched you carefully, almost scared to do anything lest he scare you off, but you didn’t draw back. You just looked at him in wonder, lips parted slightly in a way that made him want to kiss you more than usual. 

“Hey.” he finally said when you remained silent. “You okay?”

You nodded slowly, and he thought that you were traumatized or something. It would be a fair reaction, right? David spent all his time teasing you about hunters, and then Marko had gone and left you alone long enough for four of the fuckers to go after you--

His thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound reaching his ears. It took him a moment to realize that the little coos were coming from you, and when he finally focused on you again, he saw mall blue-black feathers dotting the outline of your face, your eyes shifting to a predatory amber. You made the sound again, the soft trill a bit louder this time, and Marko could only stare as you placed a clawed hand on his blood-soaked chest and gripped his shirt lightly. 

“Marko...” you purred, your voice strange and inhuman. 

He had to clear his throat. “Y-yeah?”

You stepped up to him, pressing your chest against his. “Thank you...”

He felt your tongue on his throat and a shiver ran up his spine. “N-no problem, baby...”

“You were so brave...”

“Yeah, guess I kinda was...”

“...and so strong...”

“Yeah, that too...”

“So protective...” you sank down to your knees, your hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans. 

He just stared down at you, his breath caught in his throat. He knew he always got horny after killing, but he had to admit that he was a little confused...but he really couldn’t bring himself to care too much, not when you were pulling his cock out of his pants and wrapping your lips around the head. 

“Fuck, baby...” he groaned, running his fingers through your hair. He could feel soft feathers hidden there, more and more seeming to grow as you moaned around him. “Guess I should save you more often, if this is my reward...”

You pulled back, licking a line up his shaft. “Fuck me, love...”

Well, he wasn’t gonna waste any time, especially not when you were telling him to do it. He had you up on your feet in the blink of an eye, his lips crashing into yours as he squeezed your ass. Only a moment later, you were free of your clothes, your back hitting the wall you had just been trapped up against...except this time, Marko was the one holding you there, and you were whimpering for more.

“Please!” you whined, clawing at him as he bit at your shoulder. All you could think about was him, about feeling him inside of you, feeling him fill you up and give you everything you wanted. 

He huffed a laugh against your throat, hoisting you up to hook your legs around his waist. His hips rolled forward and you practically screamed when you felt the tip of his cock nudging against you...and when he finally plunged inside, you really did scream, throwing your head back and letting out a noise that seemed more avian than human. 

“Fuck..” Marko moaned. You were wetter than he’d ever felt a person before, his cock sliding into you easily. You were warmer than he’d ever felt before, too, practically scorching hot...and he just wanted to sink into that warmth and stay there forever. 

“M-Marko,” you breathed. 

“Don’t worry, baby.” he said as he pulled out only to snap his hips forward again. “‘M gonna take care of you...”

You could feel tears at the edges of your eyes, you were so happy. 

As Marko fucked you, your heart felt so full you thought it might burst. You were overwhelmed and overstimulated, but you didn’t care, demanding more and more and more from the guy who was lucky enough to have supernatural stamina and a libido to rival Paul’s. He fucked you until you came, and then he fucked you until he came, and then he fucked you until you both came together--and then you did it all over again, the two of you covered in the blood of the men Marko had killed for you, your neck covered in dark hickeys wherever you didn’t have feathers. 

By the time your feet finally touched the ground again, your legs were so wobbly you nearly wiped out. But Marko--your perfect, beautiful mate, Marko--was quick to grab you, laughing breathlessly as he held you up with one hand and fixed his jeans with the other. 

“Damn, baby,” he laughed as he took in your dazed expression. “Not bad, huh?”

“Mmm,” you just smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Amazing...and you saved me...”

The tiniest hint of a blush spread across his face. “It was nothin’...”

A wolf whistle had both of you looking towards the alley entrance to see Paul, David, and Dwayne, and Marko immediately hissed at them. You were still naked, and as Paul leered at you, you thought there was a good chance they might fight...a notion that had those butterflies going wild in your stomach again.

Marko’s nose twitched as the scent of harpy arousal grew stronger in the air, and he knew that the others could smell it, too. He just didn’t even want them looking at you while you were so turned on. 

“Well, what happened here?” David asked, boots splashing in the blood as he glanced around at the mess. “You two do all this?”

“I did,” Marko said, straightening up. 

“He saved me,” you said, hugging his arm as you nuzzled your cheek against his. 

“And then the chivalrous hero took his prize, huh?” David smirked. “You didn’t even finish your dinner before going for dessert...”

“Shut up!” Marko snapped, baring his fangs. 

“Shit, I wouldn’t be able to eat my brussels sprouts with somethin’ that cute waiting’ for me, either,” Paul grinned wolfishly at you. “Good job, Marko. You fucked her real good.”

“Shut the fuck up before I--”

“He did,” you interrupted, beaming up at him.

“...Well, I mean, I’m glad you think so--”

Paul barked a laugh and David snorted. 

“Careful, Marko.” the platinum blonde said before turning to leave. “Harpies get very attached, you know.”

“I don’t need your advice,” Marko bristled. 

“No?” David paused, looking back over his shoulder with a cigarette between his teeth. “Then don’t come cryin’ to me for help when she lays eggs ‘n makes you a daddy.”

Marko’s face fell in shock and Paul laughed so hard he had to sit down in the blood. 

“Hey, wh-what?” he asked. But David was just chuckling to himself, walking away with Dwayne at his side. Paul hopped up, saluted Marko, and then followed the others, still laughing like a hyena as he caught up. 

And you were just staring up at Marko with the biggest, happiest eyes he had ever seen.

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #marko x reader #harpy!reader #marko x harpy!reader #marko x monster!reader #slasher x reader

[evilmagician430]

concept art/character design for an acachalla centric horror story i've been brainstorming since last school year ^_^ still havent finalized any of these designs, i feel like they need a little more tweaking...

WARNING: blood, body horror, the mangled corpse of a dead animal, guns, crowbars, medical equipment and general medical imagery, and all around just weird and gross stuff

ADDITIONAL WARNING: really fucking long

story and images under the cut:

i imagine the premise is that sue, at the police station, gets a call from the acachallas like in canon. she decides to go to their house to help, alone because her coworkers are all busy/hate her (theyve been in the force long enough to go corrupt while sue still tries to do whats right)

when she goes in she discovers that the acachallas have been dead for like 10 years and their bodies are barely even intact. she also notices that their house is trashed, not only does it seem completely reclaimed by nature, covered in fungus and insects and blood, but a lot of their furniture and appliances are missing. their rooms look like theyre missing all that wouldve signaled the character of whomever inhabited it, and she thinks, well, maybe the house was looted after they died, but that doesn't explain who called...

then she accidentally steps in a pile of fungus. which wasnt there before. she turns around and a man, fully formed, has sprouted out of the ground. he is made almost entirely out of mushrooms and he has 2 shotguns for arms. he tells her to leave his house. she starts to run but then another figure stops her. a very tall woman who speaks in the same voice that called the police department. her form is indiscernible in the dark, but soon sue comes to realize this woman is not human.

she's not even alive.

sue meets the others and, sure enough, they all seem to be amalgamations of various household objects, both inorganic and organic matter, forming crude fascimiles of who they once were. there are 5 bodies and 5 of them, so they must be possessed by the immortal spirits of the acachallas...!

of course, it turns out they never needed help. it was merely a trap to lure sue home.

they accept her and care for her far more than her biological family or "friends" at work ever did. but being with them takes a toll on sue's body. eventually she dies and they build a new body for her. she wakes up as a beautiful monster. she wakes up as herself.

you're going to notice none of these drawings are of sue- that's because she's still just a regular human in this. by the end she might become a horrifying monster like the rest of them, but i havent designed her.

i took inspiration from a variety of sources, but i can only remember some of them off the top of my head:

undertale (lorewise the whole thing about monsters dust being spread on their favorite object so they can live in it, also photoshop flowey designwise was a huge inspiration)

deltarune (largely just the enemy designs)

dont hug me i'm scared (the teacher's designs, general vibes, also lamp's explanation of what happens when someone dies in episode 2 of the tv show)

tipping point (literally just stylistically. i need to learn digital collage to properly portray these designs)

tokusatsu (the costumes for the gorma in gosei sentai dairanger are like. really good. i enjoy their designs severely)

communications era ghost and pals mvs (the collage stuff speaks to my soul)

and thats all i can remember rn. now heres the first pictures i drew of each member of the family (on my world history notes) and the most recent draft of their designs (in mspaint) this is basically all of the drawings of them.

beginning with spencer, he's the smallest of the family at only 4 feet tall. he is made out of his computer and manga collection basically. on each of these i left a lot of notes in the pictures breaking down what each part of the body is made out of. i wanted to incorporate figurines and action figures into his design too but i decided to keep it more focused. but all these designs are still subject to change. a teacher walked by as i was drawing him and said she liked how it was "very industrial but feminine" or something like that.

sally! im not entirely sure what that first sketch is but as you can tell i wanted her to be wearing a doll mask from the start. i gave her this big poofy princess dress to conceal where godzilla connects to the shelves that act as her legs because it looked very strange and did not look like the shelves were her legs. the dress turns into curtains which are draped over her shelves. she was very hard to design but very fun. also i just chose random dolls and stuff i know g3 draculaura and kylie and pnp sasha are like recent dolls that wouldnt exist yet. its a mockup ok

next we got billy who is built out of his own medical supplies. i wanted to make his body one of those IV drip stands, although that means both him and spencer have very similar lower halves, with the wheels. hes the only one who doesnt really wear any clothes because billy doesnt really have an iconic outfit; the only thing i remember he wears is obviously his medic outfit but thats like. a whole outfit. i dont understand the layers of it so i can just put part of it on this thing. maybe i shouldve just given him scrubs. or what i think billy would wear that represents him

gertrude having a dead cat as her hair is a reference to a really specific one-off joke i read about on the wiki but dont actually remember from any of the videos. i think hair is a very important part of self expression so they would want to recreate their hairstyles with whatever they could find. it was hard as hell getting that cat into a shape that made literally any sense but i think i figured it out. her outfit is a combination of what she normally wore and her old costume as the crowbar, which i was inspired to design my version of as well (will post that drawing later). i think its very interesting how gertrude seems to exist to trap and keep safe or detain/kill various dangerous beings. shes like a shepherd but also an executioner.

papa acachalla doesnt have a draft cause this was literally the first time i tried drawing him in this story because i was stuck on trying to imagine what hed be made out of and how he would look like. then i remembered fungus comes in all shapes and forms and also works as a metaphor for his connection with his family and his roots. also his arms are guns LOL! i wanted to make him more catholic but i couldnt come up with how while still having him look like papa acachalla. maybe adding that priest collar cause i think father grigori has it anyways but its hard to draw stuff around his neck area.

#venturiantale #taleblr #evilmartin430.txt #images that are horrid to see and look at #dont ask me where jeremy and maxwell and maddie and the extended family fit into this... idk enough about them to design them as monsters #also maddie isnt really a family member. unless you think shes really gertrude's sister #concept art #character design #horror #body horror #horror story #horror au #acachalla house of horrors #<== tag specifically for stuff pertaining to this story #mspaint #sue acachalla #spencer acachalla #sally acachalla #billy acachalla #gertrude acachalla #papa acachalla #campy horror #<== the vibe im going for #if this was a live action thing itd definitely use practical effects and #the costumes (?) would be insane #imagine building them in real #aoughhhh #ok done screaming

[askwhatsforlunch]

Growing and Gardening: Growing Potatoes

I had attempted to grow potatoes before, and even harvested a few; but no attempt was as successful as this year’s! And I’m not even done digging yet!

It all started on a cold January day. A local farmer was going around neighbourhoods in my town, selling his produce. A bit pricey perhaps; but excellent quality, and because he only sold in large amounts, I ended up with some twenty-five kilos of potatoes (in addition to fifteen of carrots, ten of white and five of red onions!)

It kept rather well in the garage, and the vegetables were delicious. But even in the dead of Winter, there are so many potatoes two people can eat!

Thus they started shrivelling and growing sprouts! Perfect, I thought; then, I could plant them!

And so I did! On the 29th of March, I prepared the place I would plant them in, a large iron garden bin, where I had grown and harvested the last of the Mesclun. One thing to always remember when growing vegetables is to rotate your crops; you cannot grow the same type of vegetables in the same spot two years in a row. The previous crop will have taken most the the nutrients they need, leaving very little left in the soil, and your next harvest, if any, might not be as bountiful... Luckily, different crops need different nutrients from the soil they grow in; hence the rotation. Tubers (like potatoes), for instance, will appreciate a soil formerly hosting brassicaceae (like cabbage, kale, etc...) or leafy greens (like lettuce or spinach).

I tilled the soil thoroughly, and mixed in good soil and compost to amend it. I left it for a few days.

Then, on the 4th of April, I planted my sprouted potatoes. I had eight (8) of them, and arranged four (4) on two levels, so the bottom ones would not be right underneath the top ones. There was about 15cm/5.5″ of soil mixture between both levels.

I covered them with about as much soil mixture (15cm/5.5″). I watered thoroughly. It is also important to have a good drainage, if you grow potatoes in a container, or they will rot. A few years back, I had hammered in four holes in this iron bin, and it wasn’t easy; but very much worth the effort! 

Then, I watered regularly only when the April showers were scarce! After a couple of weeks, potato stalks and leaves were starting growing in the bin.

And after a month and a half (on the 16th of May), they were tall and luscious and very leafy!!! From then on, it is very easy to take care of them. Water when the soil gets dry to the touch, trim the leaves a little when they become yellow.

You can also sow herbs at the  feet of your potatoes. They may improve their taste and protect them against aphids. Cilantro and thyme are good companions. I only managed a very small bunch of Cilantro. Because they are in a bin, and the Cilantro stalks are significantly thinner and smaller than the potatoes’; they do not get as much light as they would if you planted and sowed in a Veg Patch.

That said, harvesting potatoes in a bin is heaps more convenient! You know where they all are; you just need to dig them out!

I dug about 840 grams/1.85 pound New Potatoes (harvested about three and a half month after planting); and left the greenest, leafiest stalks in the bin to harvest later, and perhaps have bigger spuds! I might also try to sow more, as there is enough light for it now!

I am so happy with this harvest of small (some really tiny!) to medium Garden Potatoes, though. Their skin is thin, and once scrubbed, don’t they look pretty?And their flesh is beautiful and tasty!

#Growing #Growing Tip #Growing Tips #Garden Potatoes #Growing Potatoes #Potatoes #Potato Harvest #New Potatoes #Garden New Potatoes #Potato Bin #Garden #Kitchen Garden #Gardening #Gardening Tip #Gardening Tips #Growing and Gardening #Growing Gardening and Foraging #Growing Vegetables #Home-Grown Vegetables #Home-Grown Potatoes #Spuds