Tumgik
#like my femininity is unleashed now that I have control over my body and I love dressing it up AND down
genderfreakxx · 1 year
Text
Really fun and funky and deadass reassuring to know that even when I’m having an insanely femme moment in regards to my gender feeling I still have absolutely zero regret about top surgery
Like it’s just literally never been even the slightest thought on my mind until I make it a conscious effort to think about it- and then especially it’s only allowed me to feel more free than I ever have before I’m so fucking happy to dance in my body now
2 notes · View notes
oftenderweapons · 3 years
Text
Dirty ABCs | Jungkook and Candy
Tumblr media
Let’s celebrate birthday boy with early NSFW alphabet!!! LET’S GOOOOO
Pairing: Jungkook x reader/OC (Candy)
Wordcount: 2.1k
Genre: headcanons
Rating: 18+. Minors, do not interact.
Here’s my masterlist, enjoy!
Trigger warnings: switch!jk, switch!candy, swearing. Unprotected sex (penetrative and oral — REMEMBER TO USE PROTECTION AND GET CHECKED REGULARLY), double penetration, quickies, creampie, cockwarming, cum eating. Marking, biting, scratching. Masturbation, boobjobs. Mention of mommy kink. Public foreplay, semi-public sex, exhibitionism. Degradation, praise kink, dirty talking, edging, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Predator/Prey dynamics. Choking. Bondage. Toys (vibrators, cockrings, sex swing… 👀). Mild torture (?). Platonic spanks.
Beta read by my better half, @joheunsaram
Tumblr media
Aftercare: Jungkook likes cuddles and pillow talk after sex. He’s very traditional about it. He enjoys how vulnerable he feels and how tender Candy is towards him. He really enjoys the softness of it all, and most importantly being babied. He wants tiddies and a nap. Candy is all about spoiling her boyfriend after he’s burnt out and satisfied. She loves how pliant and open he feels afterwards, how easy it is to connect with him and just let him vent about his worries.
Body part: Another tiddie man. He just loves how soft and relaxing it feels to rest his head on Candy’s breasts. He also loves her hair and how good it always smells. He lives to nuzzle into her neck and breathe her in. Candy loves Jungkook’s back. It’s the sexiest thing ever and she likes watching his back muscles flex when he’s fucking her. She also loves his waist, so dainty and feline. And of course his eyes. She could stare into his loving dark irises for hours. They’re so expressive.
Cum: Inside. Jungkook always wants inside. Her mouth is a close second, but if given the chance he wants to sink deep into her and bathe in the scent of her while sheathed in her warmth. It feels natural and romantic and loving. There’s no other place he would want to be other than inside her, all the time. Candy is okay with anything he wants. Watching his peaceful, serene expression after he’s fucked her hard and has found his orgasm inside her is ultimately one of the reasons why she loves having sex with Jungkook.
Dirty secret: Jungkook had been secretly nursing a mommy kink for a while. It did pop up once during one of his and Candy's little encounters, but it's not something he feels ready to face. He is so ashamed of it. Candy is really into Jungkook being her whiny, subby, precious good boy. She only wants to spoil him rotten all the time. However she can't stop thinking about all the girls out there willing to give up a lung to have a one night stand with him. Sometimes she just wishes she could dominate him in public. Tie him up, ride him raw till he's dry.
Experience: Jungkook has had only one partner, with whom the sex felt pretty awful. He didn't really think he was into it or could go that wild before he and Candy started sleeping together. Candy is fairly experienced. She has had three or four short term relationships. Maybe a couple flings.
Favourite position: Jungkook can't pick just one. Well, actually yes: missionary, but with Candy's legs pressed together and thrown over his shoulder but also spread apart, her knees pressed to her shoulders. Candy really likes it when he picks her up and fucks her against the wall, or when he gets really creative. That usually entails lots of laughing and joking and communicating.
Goofy: maybe. It depends. If they're making love, then I do see Jungkook getting emotional and Candy brightening the mood with cute jokes and compliments. They do tend to be goofy when they're together, but usually not during sex. It's either a very emotionally raw moment or vicious fucking.
Hair: Jungkook shaves. He's a neat freak and shaves. He does so religiously. Candy is not that consistent, sometimes she shaves, sometimes she trims. Depends on the mood.
Intimacy: it's very demure but it's there. You wouldn't notice it because the moment Jungkook enters beast mode, it's pretty much degradation and overstimulation all over the place. But it's there too! It's in the mere fact that he trusts her enough to forget how to be civil and decent and just unleashes himself all over her. For the first ten times or so it's shy and attempted, he tiptoes around the very edge of control, but once she tells him she loves him, he goes all out and never stops. He explores and pleases. That's his nature. Candy is the one that grants intimacy the most. He knows he can go wild because she's his anchor, keeping things loving and gentle and tender even through the storm. Now, once Jungkook subs though… intimacy galore. Little touches and small kisses and endless tight hugs. Her first goal is to make him feel safe. And that happens through intimacy.
Jack off: These two? Really? No, you didn't understand. If Jungkook has even a remote chance of cumming inside her, there's no way he's masturbating. He will 300% ignore his instincts until he can have her. And it's pretty difficult for Candy not to be in the mood — or not to get into the mood, if need be. She's also not one for masturbating. She does it only when he's not available, be it because he's abroad or he's too busy. But he's always her first choice. Generally speaking it might happen that he's not in the mood and she decides to take a quick shower and deal with it herself, but usually he's joining her after a couple minutes, his mind changed, a bunny smile on his face as he winks and hops in.
Kink: First and foremost, cockwarming. Creampies shortly after. Candy has a thing for marking him, especially scratches down his muscular upper back. Their kinks depend on who's domming: if it's Jungkook, there's plenty of degradation and high chances of predator/prey dynamics. He gets very horny if Candy plays hard to catch, and he discovers it accidentally, after Candy stole the last serving of his favourite snack. Useless to say, the snack was forgotten and they fucked on the floor. Candy likes choking (receiving) and pretty much anything Jungkook is willing to try. She can't wait to try double penetration with him, she's just waiting for him to open up about the topic. When domming, she's into sensory deprivation, bondage, praise kink and edging, especially when boobjobs are involved, since JK is particularly sensitive about the topic. As long as she has him whining and begging below her, she's ready to try anything.
Location: Well, the bedroom is the place of choice for most occasions. Not always though. The shower is a strong opponent. If they do get naughty outside of their home, it's usually in quite private places too. Hotel rooms. Club or restaurant bathrooms. Foreplay in the lift and on the dance floor — mostly Candy rubbing herself all over Jungkook. Well, they did get nasty in a cave once, but that's another story.
Motivation: as I said, playing catch with Jungkook is always a good way to get him in the mood. He's extremely weak for breasts, so anything regarding those is a hot topic too. Candy often wears loose/low neck shirts and leans over, offering him a glimpse of her lack of bra. Low neckline and no bra usually means "please, fuck me across the living room, thank you" in Candy language. While for Candy, watching Jungkook work out or just get sweaty and flirty is a total panty snatcher. You'll find her bent over, ass up, ready for the take.
No: Jungkook doesn't like receiving degradation. Memories of his ex make him uncomfortable with that. Other than that, he strongly opposes to anything that involves hardcore domination. He can be a dom, but he's extremely sensitive about what he does and some acts are a bit too aggressive for his opinion. Candy hadn't tried anything unconventional before Jungkook, and so far all her past no's have turned into hard yes with Jungkook. She's still exploring her limits.
Oral: Jungkook? Hell yes. He likes receiving but he by far prefers giving, especially when Candy is domming or directing him. He could do that for hours, and his love for the act almost rivals that of our local kitty cat Yoongi. His true joy is being rewarded going for multiples with his head between Candy's thighs. Especially if he's cum inside her. Not too fast though, he needs some cockwarming first. Candy is a true fan of giving head. She especially likes doing so when Jungkook is in a subby and bratty mood. Listening to him getting vocal about his appreciation is always the greatest compliment to her, and also an excellent way to discipline him when he gets cocky.
Pace: Fast. Hard. That's all there is. If he's setting the pace, it's outright demonic, hitting at least 74bpm (it's Kiwi by Harry Styles in halftime). Yes, he can go slower, usually when he's in lover boy mode or even better, when he's trying to show Candy who's the boss. Slow, lazy rolls of his hips reaching unknown depths. If Candy's on top/domming it's all about it being intimate, calm, relaxing even. She wants Jungkook to explore a sensuality he is too rushed and forceful for. Through her slow and steady approach she helps him embrace a more feminine and spiritual sexuality that borders on the psychological and tantric.
Quickie: yes. Hard yes. He is the best with quickies. Just get it over with so they're both relieved and they can chat about their day while he's still inside her. There's not much to say. Just yes.
Risk: they prefer avoiding it, however they're young and experimenting, therefore they do sometimes get a bit past the safety line. The biggest risk for them is doing anything where they could be spotted, therefore they're really subtle and overall not too explicit about anything happening in a semi-public context. Except, that one time while they were on holiday, of course. And that other time in which Candy almost jerked him off in a restaurant before blowing him in his car.
Stamina: Insane. Jungkook's stamina is more about endurance rather than control. He can make Candy cum five or six times while he cums twice and is more than glad. He can go for two consecutive rounds without breaking a sweat. For himself he's usually more than happy with a round of foreplay and one of fucking, but if he's determined enough, he can last one more. He usually doesn't push himself that far though, he does when he's been deprived for long enough.
Toy: Although toys aren't usually a part of their sex life, they do use them every now and then. Vibrators, vibrating cockrings, oh! And their sex swing, of course. That's what they use the most, yes.
Unfair: If Jungkook is in hard dom mode, he is very unfair, plenty of teasing and taunting matched with mockery and degradation. He can keep Candy on her toes for a full hour, giving her small reprieve every here and there. Candy is also equally torturous: if she's domming, she's not done edging him until he's whining, sobbing, begging and possibly crying.
Volume: Normally, Candy is very quiet however, Jungkook always goes the extra mile to make her moan and whine, especially if he's eating her out. Jungkook can be especially eloquent with his sounds: grunting and groaning are typically for his dommier side, while whining and whimpering are usually for his subby one. Moaning is all over the place. Consider also a good amount of murmuring and mumbling some dirty talking. Not too much though.
Wild card: Jungkook likes his hair being combed during aftercare. Candy always relaxes while he speaks loving words to make up for the degradation and mockery. She could fall asleep while combing his hair, she's just that tired and comfortable. Also! When he installed the sex swing in their room, he decided it was a good idea to have permanent hooks on the ceiling, mask them with fake plants. Crackhead.
X-Ray: Jungkook has a nice cock. Not too long, not too thick but it has an upward curve that makes stuff interesting. He's probably around six or seven inches. Candy has objectively nice breasts, full, round, truly well structured. And she has a nice ass too, Jungkook likes squeezing it when she throws her leg on top of him during cuddles. He also spanks it a few tens of times a day — not in the sexual way tho, but more in that encouragement/comradery way he has learnt with the guys.
Yearning: Jungkook can go without sex for a long time. I'm talking about a month and more. It's not a priority for him, except right after he and Candy sleep together for the first time, when he needed to get rid of the high. With him, everything is very inconsistent: one week you're having sex every day, and the following one, he's just all about the cuddles and fluff. Candy is up for anything, however she prefers having sex at least once or twice a week. Both feel safe to initiate without fearing being denied. For them, arousal is very easily built through playing and bantering.
Zzz: both take a while to fall asleep after sex. Plenty of time for pillow talking and cleaning up, though they prefer doing so very pragmatically. Any time spent apart during aftercare is a waste to both of them: they just want to talk things out, relax, bask in each other's warm presence.
216 notes · View notes
mellowyandere · 3 years
Text
SCP Academia Eraserhead Part 2
Reader: F
Characters: Aizawa Shouta (main); Kurogiri
Summary: After struggling to find his way out with Dr. L/N, Eraserhead is offered some help. (This turned into a lot more exposition than expected. Part 3 will get steamy though I promise! I’m just a hoe for setting the stage.)
Length: 1442 words
Warning: Yandere-themes.
Tumblr media
He had been running for a while now. Hallways and corridors bleeding into one another in a way that turned his head upside down. He hadn’t had to open any doors so far, and a strange absence of security set off little alarms in the back of his head.
Left…no right? He snarled in frustration. Curse this stupid foundation. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy but this was simply ridiculous. He peered down at your unconscious form, nestled protectively against his chest in a layer of his tendrils. So small and weak... he had to keep pushing forwards.
He had been forced to kill a couple of SCP’s along the way, not all being as sentient and rational as himself. Their desire to kill you forfeiting their rights to life.
Shit. Another dead end.
Something cleared their throat behind him, causing him to spin on his heel. His tendrils flared out ready to cut down whatever it was. To his surprise there stood what appeared to be a man made of mist, wearing human clothing. His sharp attire strongly contrasted his own, which consisted of an orange jumpsuit, the top half having been torn to shreds when he unleashed his tendrils, and a pair of standard issued boots.
“Move out the way. Don’t make me hurt you.” He didn’t have time for this, who knew when security would appear to regain control of the breach.
The mist man raised his hands to show his non-hostility. “You look a bit lost… would you like some help leaving this place?”
Eraserhead narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would you help me?”
“Don’t you find it odd..” Ah great this might take a minute. If he wasn’t blocking off the hallway Eraserhead would have left by now, but the man in front of him didn’t look like someone he could simply side step.
“Beings such as ourselves don’t belong here. By all means humans are nothing more than fodder in comparison. And yet they contain us? They’re witty creatures with dangerous minds, it’s what gotten them this far. But so are we. This containment breach was no accident, I’m sure you’ve already noticed almost every enclosure open, save for the truly unhinged ones. And a complete lack of guards to corral you back to your prison. No, there are higher powers at play. But now isn’t the time to delve into that, so I’ll ask again… would you like some help leaving this place?”
The mist man finished his little speech and opened his arms, inviting Eraserhead forward.
“What’s the catch?” Eraserhead knew better. Nothing in this world was done from the kindness of one’s heart. Well, except for you. You were the only real kindness he had ever known.
The mist man chuckled. “I see you are a man of caution. Yes this exchange is not for free. We’ll be keeping tabs on you. Your intelligence and abilities make you a very strong creature indeed. One day we’ll need you to help free our kind from the shackles of humanity.”
Lowering his arms the man took on a more sinister aura. “Let it be known though, I don’t need your consent to teleport you. I’d choose my offer. After all that human in your arms looks so frail, she might not make it out here alive if you keep at it.”
Shit. This bastard wasn’t leaving him with much choice.. should he fight his way out? He wasn’t exactly sure what his opponents abilities were besides teleportation. Even if he erased them, can you punch a man made of mist? His clothes clung to him, but who knew his real body composition.
No. This man was too dangerous, and his threat towards your well-being still hung heavily in the air. “Alright. Deal.”
The mist mans nodded with a hum, satisfied with his answer. “Start with continent, State or province, then major nearby city. Small nearby towns if applicable.”
Eraserhead listed off what was asked of him. His goal was to bring you to his old self-isolation home. He used to live amongst humans with little to no problems. His larger than normal stature at 6’10” raised a few eyebrows but nothing too serious. He kept the dark markings along his torso covered, and a scarf helped to hide his deathly white complexion. As for the eyes, he always wore sunglasses.
His issue had arisen with the month of his “birth”. For as long as he could remember, during the month humans called November, he went absolutely feral. Losing all control over his himself he’d slaughter anything that crossed his path. He’d make sure to isolate before November came along, and for the most part it worked. He had lived many centuries alongside humans with only the occasional slip up.
Five years ago he slipped up. And the SCP foundation had been all over him ever since.
“I can’t get you to any of the nearby towns, but I can get you to the city,” the mist man stated. “Step forward, I’ll take you there now.”
With that the man began to spread out the mist that defined his body, pooling out until he filled the entirety of the corridor. Eraserhead stepped forward into the blackish purple abyss, his vision going dark. Squinting he tried to peer through the pitch black that surrounded him, until finally he could see again. Stars lit up the night sky above him, and the sound of cars echoed down far below. Stepping onto concrete he moved out of the portal. This creature had quite a powerful ability. 
“What you do from here is up to you. We’ll give you some time to adjust and then we’ll contact you. Do not think that you can hide from us.” With that the mist vanished and Eraserhead was left alone atop a tall building with you in his arms.
It would be about a half a day of running to get you home from here. Meaning it would be wise to stock up on supplies now. That way he wouldn’t have any reason to leave you alone for the next week or two as you adjusted to your new home. The tall creature checked you over, making sure you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon before leaving you on the rooftop. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but he’d move fast.
Jumping from building to building he made quick work of locating and snagging some clothes from a local donation box in order to change out of the tattered orange jumpsuit. One extra-large black long sleeve shirt and accompanying extra-large pair of blacks pants. Grabbing a few bags that had also been inside, he headed for the nearest chain supermarket. He’d stock up on essentials like food and nest making materials, as well as daintier things that you might like such as feminine soaps and fluffy stuffed animals.
Due to the limitations in his interactions with you he didn’t really know what you’d want, but he had the rest of your time together to learn.
He was going to prove to you that he was the best mate you could ever dream of having. No one else would ever be good enough for you. And no one else would ever be good enough for him with you now in his life. He had never encountered a human like you before, and he’d be damned if anyone ever dared try to take you away or hurt you.
Making quick work of the supermarket he dashed out as the alarms rang. It hardly mattered though, he wouldn’t be coming back to this city. He had enough money stashed away that he’d be able to buy what he needed from small towns as to not draw attention to himself. Despite what the mist man had said about a new world order, he didn’t want to chance the foundation getting back on its feet and finding him.
Quickly climbing the building he left you on he was relieved to see your small form still sound asleep on the cold concrete. He wrapped his tendrils around his new stash of goods and scooped you up in his arms yet again, taking a moment to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhaling your scent.
Even if he had to give up part of his freedom to get here, holding you in his arms had all been worth it. Now all he had to do was get you home, and then he’d make sure to repay every gesture of kindness you had ever shown him tenfold. His precious cute little human.
282 notes · View notes
ladyartemesia · 4 years
Text
▨ FIC • PREVIEW ▨
The Mark of Yun-Ki
Tumblr media
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Hybrid AU  • Royalty AU • Fantasy AU • Daechwita AU
Summary: For a thousand years the tiger god Yun-Ki has marked the heirs of the Min Empire and thus only a marked heir can inherit the throne. When the beautiful daughter of the Min Emperor’s loyal warlord rescues a mysterious tiger hybrid from the imperial prison, she unleashes a secret that the throne would kill to protect. The young emperor claims to be the chosen heir... but who really bears the Mark of Yun-Ki?
Word Count: (preview) 2280 (final word count approx. 7K)
Rating and Warnings: Preview is rated M(ature) but final fic will be E(xplicit) for heat sex among other thing. Warnings for the preview include sexual innuendo and mature themes.
Author’s Note: One of the reasons I wrote this was in response to a prompt given to me by @mindays​ like MONTHS ago (I have included the original prompt at the bottom of the preview) • I really hope you like it! Sorry I took so long.
Tumblr media
“Why is he blindfolded?”
The guard beside you shifted uncomfortably. 
“The Emperor ordered that his eyes be covered at all times.”
Your gaze traveled covertly over your surroundings, assessing the dimly lit chamber with practiced disdain. 
“Leave us.” 
“My lady, I cannot-”
“Do you know who I am, soldier?”
Your voice slashed through the air like an icy whip. 
“Y-yes, my la-”
“Then you know it is unwise to displease my family.” One jeweled hand came to rest dramatically on your chest. “Your daughter is not yet 15...such a pity to orphan one so young.”
The soldier bowed almost too quickly. 
“I will be outside, my lady-” he bowed again and again as he backed toward the door, “I meant no disrespect-”
Then you were alone… save for the notorious prisoner bound and blindfolded in the cell before you. 
He was clearly aware of your presence, but made no move or sound of acknowledgement, not even when your footsteps brought you to the very edge of his enclosure. 
“Prisoner AG-D2... name unknown... crime unknown...” your hand travelled up to your hair to withdraw a long silver pin, “no date of birth, no date of arrest...”
The prisoner jerked suddenly when the sound of your pin tripping the cell’s iron lock reached his unnaturally sensitive ears. 
His nostrils flared as an almost familiar scent - buried beneath a decade of fury and fear - curled through him. 
“Who are you?” 
The words were more of a growl than a question, but the only answer he received was the sound of his cell door creaking open. 
“Why are you here?” he tried again. 
“I am here to tell you a story...”
The prisoner barked out an empty laugh at your strange reply.
“I love a good story,” he whispered bitterly. The corner of your mouth twitched a bit at his spirit. 
Wrists bound together, eyes covered… but still every inch the proud warrior. His clothes were worn, but well cared for and the body beneath them was sleek and strong. This was not a man accustomed to being bound. 
“You were not raised like the rest of our people... the tales of our customs and our gods were - deliberately - never taught to you...but it is past time that you knew of them.”
He grinned, granting you a wicked flash of razor sharp fangs.
“Are all of the Emperor’s captives tortured with fairytales?”
“Charming,” you snorted, dragging a small stool from the corner of his cell. The prisoner’s ears flicked curiously at the sound.
“Aren’t you afraid of me, storyteller? What if I’ve been imprisoned for devouring beautiful women like yourself?”
You shook your head in amusement as you settled onto the stool.
“Have you devoured many beautiful women then?”
“Oh absolutely-” his grin took on a decidedly sinful slant, “but I doubt that’s why I’m here.”
A strange fluttering stirred in your chest at his words, though you did not fully understand the cause. You could not afford to waste time dwelling on such things, however.
“So... why are you here?” 
The prisoner was silent for several moments as he weighed the risk of being honest with you. 
“I don’t know,” he whispered finally, “I was told the Emperor himself ordered my arrest… but I was never told why.”
Your fingernails dug painfully into the palm of your hand, but you offered no other outward reaction to his words.
“What do you know of the current Min Emperor?”
“Not much. I’ve heard he is young... Stories say he has the temper of a demon, but his people endure it because he is the favorite of an ancient god.”
Your jaw clenched.
“That is correct. Our citizens are privileged to serve and obey the Emperor because the great tiger god, Yun-Ki has chosen the House of Min as his sacred bloodline. It is believed that the Mins are descended from Yun-Ki himself...”
“How ironic,” the prisoner scoffed, “considering that the Mins despise hybrids. They claim we are the unnatural children of the spirit realm and the earth. Surely they would be ashamed to be the product of such… blasphemy.”
Feminine laughter filled the air. It had been so long since the bound man had heard anything so beautiful. The ache it stirred in him was nearly as foreign as the sound itself. 
“Yes it does seem rather hypocritical... especially in light of the events which bring me here.”
Your scent was stronger now. It tugged at the edges of his mind in broken pictures and flashes of sunshine. He knew it...
But he could not recognize it. 
Nor could he explain the heat it began to stir in him. 
“Yun-Ki’s chosen heir bears his sacred mark .... Every child of the emperor’s seed is checked for it the moment they are born. And no concubine or wife of the emperor is ever so exalted as the one who produces a marked heir... except of course, the mother of our current emperor.”
The prisoner leaned forward, fascinated in spite of the strange circumstances.
“The dowager empress is widely revered. I may not know your fairytales, but a hybrid’s ears are better than most. My guards speak of her often.”.
You nodded
“The dowager is indeed very highly regarded… but she is not the emperor’s true mother.”
“Lady…” the prisoner shook his head irritably. “What nonsense is this? And how could it possibly affect me?”
You chuckled softly and the small hairs on the back of his arms rose up in response. 
“Patience, prisoner, the truth I offer you is worth more than both our lives.”
“The fine jewelry I hear clinking around your neck is worth more than my life, lady,” he hissed. “Speak your peace and spare me these cryptic declarations.”
It took every ounce of self-control you possess not to flick him right in his arrogant nose. 
“As you wish,” you replied with heavily affected sweetness. “The story begins with our current emperor’s father. The old emperor was a man of warfare and his spies discovered that the Prince of neighboring PyonKang planned invade our territory, he marched his armies in and occupied the small kingdom without mercy…” (you paused here significantly) “He even took the Prince’s sister as his war prize...”
The prisoner snorted. 
“Did he know what she was?” He smiled coldly. “The royals of PyongKang do not share your nation’s distaste for hybrids or the pleasures of mating with one-”
There was a sharp spike in your scent when he spoke the words; a darker - richer essence than the one he detected earlier, but this time he had no trouble identifying it. 
Arousal. 
Blood churned chaotically beneath his skin, rushing to answer your body’s unspoken request. His mind clouded suddenly and for a moment...he could almost taste you. 
This is dangerous. 
The fabric of your gown rustled as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat - driven to relieve some of the unexpected pressure in your core. 
“He did not know. The lady bore no hybrid indicators. So the emperor assumed - quite incorrectly - that she was not a hybrid.” 
“I’ve heard of such things…” he sighed, sifting through his memory till he found what he was looking for. “A physician I met in Eastern Wei discovered that some hybrids manifest internally. They retain the outer shell of a human, but their inner parts reveal the truth.” His head tilted as he recalled the old doctor’s exact words. “The face of man could hide the heart of a snake.”
You drew your lip between your teeth and nibbled it nervously. 
“You are correct. Except, in the case of the emperor’s war prize concubine, the face of a beautiful woman hid the heart of a tiger.”
The man before you scrambled to his feet in a move so sudden and unexpected, you nearly cried out. 
“You mean to tell me that the current Min Emperor is a tiger hybrid? Surely I would have heard of it. The world would have heard of it.”
You drew a deep breath - almost as if to brace yourself for the words you planned to speak.
The prisoner’s eyes were covered, but he could still make out shapes and shadows through the rough cloth. Your shadow seemed unnaturally still. When you spoke again, your tone was softer and the sound of it resonated deep within him like the bells of the old temple near his childhood home. 
“The princess of PyongKang became pregnant, and gave birth to twin boys. The younger was strong and pale, gifted with the strange golden hair so many of the Min bloodline seem to possess. But his elder brother...”
Your hands opened and closed reflexively in your lap as you worked to calm your pounding pulse. 
“... The elder brother’s hybrid heritage was quite evident.”
You moved then, stepping slowly and carefully until you stood before the prisoner face to face. Your scent swelled erotically with every step until it wrapped around him like a velvet vice. The urge to lean into it - into you - was nearly unbearable. 
“One of the twins bore the tiger god’s mark... but not the one who sits on the throne now.”
Your hand stretched slowly toward the edge of the prisoner’s blindfold. 
“The emperor executed his hybrid concubine immediately, yet even he was not bold enough to kill Yun-Ki’s chosen heir...”
Your fingers hovered a hairsbreadth from his skin. Once you touched him, everything would change. The truth you chased for eleven years would be within your grasp. 
“He sent the child to a poor family of fox hybrids who worked and lived on the estate of his most loyal warlord. The boy was never to know what he was… who he was...”
You could almost feel the moment he grasped the implication of your words. The subtle bond that always hummed strangely between you remained strong despite the years of separation. 
“The warlord had a daughter who loved to ride her horse near the lake.” Your voice trembled ever so slightly as you continued. “One day the horse was startled by a snake and it threw her into the water...”
A single tear wet his blindfold as the alluring tendrils of your scent merged chaotically with the treasured echoes in his mind. 
“Tiger hybrids hate the water,” you whispered, gently drawing the cloth up over his head, “but you dove in to save me anyways.”
Your lungs and throat burned from coughing out the water you swallowed, yet the pain was far preferable to the finality of drowning. The heavy fabric of your gown weighed you down as soon as your body crashed into the lake. 
Death reached for you, but the strange boy cradling you tightly to his chest had pulled you back before you were lost to its embrace.
“Little one, can you hear me?”
His eyes scanned frantically over your small drenched form for signs of serious injury, but you were completely distracted from your almost untimely end by the two feline ears twitching conspicuously amid the boy’s sodden curls. 
“You’re… You’re a cat!”
The boy’s jaw dropped open indignantly. 
“I’m tiger hybrid! Not a cat.” He shook his head irritably. “Have you never seen a hybrid before?”
“I’ve only heard of hybrids. I’ve never really seen one-”
Your fingers itched to touch the soft fur of his ears and you stretched forward almost absently to do so till he lashed out and snatched your wandering hand. 
“What are you doing?!” 
“Oh… I was going to...pet you?” you murmured sheepishly, prompting an irritable growl from the boy. 
“Little One, you do not pet tigers.”
He stood to his feet abruptly, dumping you into a soggy heap in the process. It took considerable effort for you to pull yourself upright while wearing 4 layers of thoroughly soaked cloth, but you eventually managed to regain your bearings and scramble after him. 
“Wait! Come back please I EEP-” 
The water dripping off your dress made the grass rather slippery… Both legs flew out from under you and, for the second time in less than a minute, you found yourself flat on your back. 
After a few moments of gazing miserably into the sky, a familiar face hovered over yours. 
“What a strange girl you are, Little One.”
You grinned.
“What is your name, tiger?”
He sighed deeply and held his hand out to pull you up. 
“I’m Yoongi.”
“Hello, Yoongi.” You tried to manage a proper bow, but only ended up losing your balance again. Yoongi grabbed your sleeve just in time to prevent you from crashing face first at his feet. 
“You’re completely hopeless,” he chuckled, endeared in spite of himself. 
Then you smiled. 
It was a fierce, blinding thing and Yoongi became aware of a subtle yet profound shift deep within the recess of his soul; something his primal half recognized immediately, but his human mind could not begin to comprehend. 
“No one’s ever said that to me before, even though I know they all think it.”
“And why is that?”
You shrugged. 
“They are probably afraid of my father.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in alarm. 
“You’re the warlord’s daughter?!”
“Yes,” you replied with all the haughtiness a ten-year old could muster, “and I’m quite used to getting what I want.”
Yoongi felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. You were such an adorable little brat. 
“And what is it you’re wanting now, Little One?”
You nibbled your lip for a moment, suddenly shy before the handsome hybrid boy whose beautiful feline eyes danced with unconcealed mirth. 
“I want you to be my friend.”
Thirteen years later, those same golden eyes locked with yours as a strangled sob bubbled up from the back of his throat. 
“Little One?” his face lit suddenly with pure joy “...is it you?”
Tumblr media
Please let me know in the comments if you would like to be added to the taglist!
I would love to know any thoughts or theories you have! Thank you for reading! This story will be published on or around 7/31!
Tumblr media
This is the original prompt which inspired this story...
Tumblr media
466 notes · View notes
Text
May i request a hc or fic of Liora, Zhora and Vivienne finding out that their girlfriend has been psychologically/emotionally abused by their parents.
VIVIENNE WARNINGS APPLY: Mentions of Homophobia, external and internalized Mentions of Strict/Bullying parents. Mention of Conversion Camp -  Drugging, Negative association therapy, IMPLIED forced masturbation, illness and cane usage. Mention of controlling, forceful, cheating partner. Self Blaming. Spoilers for route. A writer trying a hand at serious Angst. WRITTEN BY @evoedBD +++++++++++++
How many times could she do this? How many times would she dash herself upon the rocks and drive Silvana to raise the shield between them? How many times would her own actions lead to that one-word spilling from gorgeous lips?
“Red.”
The word was safety. A shield. An absolute. It was the uncrossable line, a barrier reinforced by projected personas and deadly kisses. It was woven into a portrait of femininity, as delicate and deadly as any nightshade. It was warmth from the cold, comfort from leering eyes that aimed to feast just below the hemline of short black dresses, or dip beneath the shadowy garbs of lace. Now, safety was turned against her. Such a simple word suddenly tore at her heart, became the blood staining her hands as she attempted to understand how she had plunged the knife into the loving artist’s heart. Was this the price she had to pay to keep any form of happiness? Was she to continue to devastate those she cared for most just to feel a slither of comfort?
There was nothing she could do but freeze. She was rendered helpless in the face of Silvana’s tears; a net trying to hold the tide at bay. Silvana’s tears did not come with violent sobs and reaction, that was perhaps what was most terrifying of all. Silvana’s tears were fat, plummeting from her eyes, down her cheeks and off the point of her chin to mix with the paints laid out before her. They were so silent, so defeated that Vivienne felt as if she were struck. Vivienne trembled so violently long legs could no longer hold her. She dropped her rump to the floor, sliding down the wall until her knees were tucked protectively against her chest. Crushing her breast to her heart, as if the pressure could stop sorrow flooding her veins with every steady beat. Silently, she waited, watching Silvana simply mix the paints. Mix, and mix, and mix… lost in the simple action, as if her mind was elsewhere. The glaze to her chocolate eyes was not that glaze of looking into a world only she could see, was not the fogginess of an artist bringing a vision to life. This was darker, enough to shadow the vibrance usually seen across Silvana’s face.
“I was 14.” Silvana finally broke the silence. Vivienne lifted her head, body instantly on alert, ready to leap into the fray to battle off the demons haunting Silvana… except, she couldn’t. Memories had no physical form, nor consciousness to battle. To fight them would be to lay hands on Silvana; to play cruel mind games with Silvana. That was not something Vivienne was prepared to do, not again.
“I’m Cuban American, you know this.”
Vivienne could only nod. Of course she knew this, the information had not been difficult for a world class thieving gang to acquire when scouting for their forgery artist.
“Dad was born in the states, so he was a little less strict, but my family is religious. Highly religious. Old school, even. I was 14 when I made the mistake of talking about this girl I’d seen. I didn’t know I was bisexual then, or why I was so drawn to her, only that she was beautiful and funny, and her laugh made my stomach flutter and I couldn’t get her off my mind. My parents wanted to help, they were scared I would go to hell, that the Devil had me. My uncle and the pastors convinced them I was beyond prayer. That only the most faithful could save me… so my parents sent me to conversion camp.” Silvana stopped, lips quivering, breath laboured. She closed her eyes against the flood of memories, taking a deep breath to centre herself.
“Sil-” Vivienne never even got to finish that name before said woman cut her off.
“Vivi. Please. If you talk…” Silvana’s voice broke. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.
“I need to just get through this.” The artist pleaded; it was not the type of begging Vivienne would ever wish to hear fall from her lips. The seductress was once more robbed of her words when she gazed at Silvana’s face. The light was gone, as if trapped behind glistening layers of frosted glass which dulled chocolate eyes. Full lips fell into a frown, burdened by the weight of everything Silvana needed to say. It was enough to slice through Vivienne’s thick skin, to pierce her heart. At Vivienne’s meek nod, Silvana took another deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to reveal.
“Camp was… they drugged me. They deliberately made me ill as they showed me… or they forced me to… sin. Sin until I was sick. If I didn’t, the Nuns had canes and…” Silvana swallowed, shaking her head violently, as if she could dislodge the nightmares. Vivienne was almost sick. A hiccup of a sob escaped her. Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering her horrified expressions and stifling the wounded sounds about to escape on Silvana’s behalf. If only that was all Silvana had to say, all she’d endured. Unfortunately, Vivienne could already see, already knew that it was the iceberg in an ocean of abuse in the name of therapy.
“I can’t…” Silvana’s whisper was bittersweet. Selfishly, Vivienne was thankful. She hadn’t used her most waterproof makeup, and anymore was bound to turn her into a blubbering mess. Or a vengeful demon upon the church. The world was not ready for the vengeance she could plan, even without laying a finger on a single soul. Even if she had to charm and seduce every Priest, every Nun and even the Saints themselves. She would have them crooning their sins as ballads, confessing how many victims there were of their crimes… and if they did not? The Poppy had the power to make those crimes a reality, and to seize their treasures while they were at it.
“Once I got home, my parents kept treating me as if I was sick. If I mentioned any girls, Mom would make me spend hours praying to a painting of Jesus. Dad just… he blamed himself. Thought that all the stories he taught me to love took me from God. Everybody at school and Church knew. Lots of them made jokes about it all the time. I was so scared and disgusted and confused, but I couldn’t ask anybody for help. I couldn’t trust them. I prayed. Every day I prayed so hard for those feelings to go away. To not look at some women and… want them in the way I wanted some men. I kept looking for guys, the type of guys a good Godly woman should want, but there weren’t any. Until I got a summer job with one of my father’s friends, working with his son. We were both adults, but he was older and had a very, well, “strong” personality.” Silvana’s tone left little to the imagination. Vivienne, for all her twenty-six years of emotional and physical conditioning, couldn’t resist flinching. She didn’t want to hear it, hear what she already had her suspicions had happened. She knew Silvana had faced mistreatment, the artist had confessed as much after doubting Vivienne, arguing in the streets of Saint Petersburg. She’d confessed to small things which had damaged her trust, and those little things were enough for Vivienne to see red all over again. The Seductress bristled, pressing her back to the wall as she braved the storm Silvana was unleashing. It was better this way, that Silvana was not alone in the floods anymore. They were family, and Vivienne was all too willing to cast aside the sickly feeling in her gut to give Silvana a moment of peace.
“He saw how I looked at some of the boys my age, and some of the girls too. He was the first person aside form Claudia who wasn’t mean about it. He was really charming and kind, a little controlling, but it wasn’t like what I’d seen on TV. I didn’t realise it was so bad. He’d bring me flowers and wear this dapper suit to Sunday mass. He supported my arts, even would buy me these lovely paints. But it was always his way, you know? Every time he wanted something, we did it. I was too scared to ask for help, so it went unchecked. It just kept escalating. At first it was little things, like letting him pay or going where he wanted to on dates. Then it was what he wanted to eat, or the dress he wanted me to wear. Then it was he wanted me to… service him. Eventually, he wanted full blown sex. I kept saying I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t force me, but he kept trying to convince me. Kept pushing, until it was easier just to agree than come up with reasons not to. He wasn’t mean or rough, just pushy. I told my parents, but they wouldn’t listen to me. The devil had touched me, and I had to pray it away. His dad was so respected in the Church, he was too, and it wasn’t like he forced me, right? He just made some comments and I just caved. Whatever he wanted. He kept me on my knees like a good little girl, like a nun for God he used to say… until my mother caught us. Then I was tempting him, I was threatening to expose him if he didn’t do it. He was already going to marry me, so he agreed to fooling around out of wedlock to save me from the Devil.”
“He sounds positively charming.” Vivienne commented dryly. Her face contorted into a vicious frown, eyes almost firing lasers in her outrage on Silvana’s behalf.
“Yeah, well, not two weeks after we left for college, he was sleeping with other girls. He thanked me for being such a good girl for him, for getting him out of his home and taking the heat for him. Turns out, he had a flock of eager girls. They all kept quiet because they saw how the Church cast me out. I was just a scapegoat and a means to an end. I was easy.” The Cuban artist shrugged her shoulders, as if she could deflect her pain like water off a duck’s feathers. She couldn’t conceal how her lips shivered, parting around painful breaths she tried to keep silent. The flowing floral dress didn’t conceal how her sides heaved, nor how her shoulders caved. Accepting. Defeated. It was not a look Vivienne ever wanted to see again.
“Silvana. What he did was unacceptable.” There was nothing else Vivienne could say. She longed to. In every language she knew, she longed to cuss and spit until her voice left her and her throat was raw. Until she tasted blood for everything Silvana had endured. Perhaps she could ask Zoe to find this man, then pay him a visit. Be the worldly seductress of his dreams, only to cast him into deathly nightmares with her poisoned kiss. Members of the Poppy had built immunity to her poisons, to her charms and games, but the one who had hurt Silvana? Vivienne knew his type. He would be easy. Effortless.
“I didn’t know how to say no back then. I had so much catching up to do once I got away from the strict religious family. My first girlfriend dumped me after a few months. The Art Chic was adorable and sexy, but she wasn’t looking for a project. She didn’t want to deal with the religious guilt. She wasn’t in it for the long haul. That’s ok, I mean, I needed to learn more about myself too. But, I kept finding those types of partners. Pushy, looking for something casual and easy, not treating me respectfully. Maybe that’s why the Poppy didn’t bother me too much, it wasn’t personal or vindictive.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were careful and considered, gifted to the artist with the utmost sincerity. Vivienne’s manipulation had perhaps been the most personal of all, even if it was for different reasons. For weeks, months even, she had helped stalk the artist. Gathering information. Assessing her talents, her position, her life. Nausea struck Vivienne’s gut like a tsunami, rising like the tide up her throat. Every breath she claimed was like breathing through a hurricane in her lungs. She had probably seen those people. Ones who had hurt Silvana. Those who had convinced the artistic wonder that she was not good enough to succeed. Vivienne had been so close to them, close enough to have dealt with them. To have spared Silvana some of this pain, possibly, and she’d done nothing.
“Viv. You didn’t manipulate me like they did.” Silvana offered comfort, though Vivienne found it lacking. Weak. Dishonest. Vivienne Tang most certainly had manipulated. Everything was so beautifully orchestrated, the melodic notes in a lifelong melody, falling into place like aligned dominos. From their first meeting, Vivienne’s purred compliments, the touch of pearls. Vivienne had played the role to a fantasy, the worldly, older woman leading a young artist into a world of glamour, of crime and mystery. She’d played the role as if she were to be upon the silver screen. The mentor. The romantic interest. She’d let Silvana think her much older, let Silvana drown in the mysteries she wove. Any romance upon the screen needed to end with a kiss and a tragedy, and Vivienne had delivered to perfection. Poisoned lipstick, the whisper of an apology in her throat. How was this not like the others who’d used Silvana in the past?
“I played with your emotions, poisoned you, then abandoned you in a strange city.” Vivienne pointed out, guilt turning her tongue to led. She wished she could claim her guilt was because she was, somewhere, deep down, a good person. That she regretted using the Artist like she had because it was not the kind thing to do. However much she wished she could deflect that crime to her duties to the Poppy, she could not. Not fully. That had been her choice and hers alone. Her panic when someone had grazed the walls around her mind and heart. Someone had gotten under her scales. That was precisely it. Silvana had worked her way into the hearts of the tight knit Poppy, had earned her place amongst their little family. Vivienne only felt guilty because it was Silvana specifically. A girl she was attached to. Loyal to. Someone in her heart, nestled alongside Nikolai, Remy, Jett, Leon and Zoe. Had Silvana not infiltrated her heart, Vivienne would never even batter an eyelid. She was, after all, a selfish creature. A viper who took what she wanted and left the corpse to the vultures to pick over. Left her marks for lesser thieves to squabble over like starved wolves.
“Yeah, that hurt, I can’t lie. But Viv, we worked through everything. I chased you, The Poppy, half way around the continent to do it. And I won’t lie and say we had it easy, but we got there. We faced it. We’re ok. We’re a team, family. I don’t hold any of that against you. Just, your comment, this piece. The heist. It brings back memories.”
“You are so much bigger than all of them. Silvana Mendo, you have painted your name across the world. Your forgeries hang in some of the finest galleries, fooling the greatest critics and adoring eyes by the thousands, still undiscovered years later. All those people who doubted you are meaningless fools. Please, zaika, do not let them drag you from the stars.” Vivienne’s voice was gentle, her pleading sincere. She lowered her knees, shifting until she was kneeling close to the artist, a devotee at the feet of a deity. The way Silvana’s lips curled into a sad smile was lancing; left Vivienne’s emotions bleeding from her in the form of answering tears. Eyeliner ran like charcoal down ashen cheeks, mirroring what she was staring at. She longed to fix this, wished she had the answers to make everything better. All she had were pretty words. Pretty words and small gestures.
“I know, but it isn’t always easy to feel like I know it. You’ve helped me become a more confident version of myself. Taught me how to fend those people off. Just, some days it feels as if my insecurity will break me.”
Vivienne scarcely registered removing one of her long silken gloves, only that her fingers felt bare against her poisoned lips. Her deadly kiss, meant with the most pure of intentions. It was stupid. As if such a minor gesture could give anything back to Silvana. As if it could mend wounds. The best it could so was send her loopy once the poison soaked into her pores. Vivienne caught her hand half extended, reaching towards the light, trying to drag it back into the Artist’s soul. She froze. Was she truly worthy? She had acted just the same as people who’d hurt the Cuban, what gave HER the right to try to fix it. One look at Silvana gave her the answer. It was so simple, as sure as the sun rose and set. As sure as the ground was beneath their knees. Silvana gave her the right, even without uttering a single word. Deep brown eyes implored Vivienne to close the distance, to try to tend to these gaping wounds. Both women watched Vivienne’s hand tremble as she closed the distance. A gentle brush of fingertips, delivering intent without risking a lipstick stain. Then, Vivienne was lost, running long fingers through frizzy hair in an effort to pull it away from a damp face. To reveal the beauty it was currently concealing.
“Then I’ll do my best to piece you back together. As many times as I must.” Vivienne vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her gloved hand lifted, gently curling around Silvana’s cheek. With her removed glove Vivienne dabbed at Silvana’s cheeks, wiped her runny nose, fretted over every smudge of paint. She remained there, dabbing delicately at the mess until Silvana’s tears ran dry. Until fussing earned soft laughter and playful comments. It was a far cry from Silvana’s most joyful, but it was a step. Vivienne already knew this would happen again. These dark memories would eat at the Artist, but Vivienne was determined to hold on. To keep the pieces together, even if it meant her own hands were sliced open. Even if it hurt. For all the treasures she had seen, all the riches she had stolen, nothing could compare to Silvana. The angel on her shoulder. The woman who embodied safety. The being who was her safe haven.
If Vivienne Tang had to bleed for something, she chose Silvana.
Every. Single. Time.
93 notes · View notes
Text
Top Ten Biggest Polt Twists in Animation (in my opinion).
Spoiler Warning
10. April is a mutant (TMNT 2012)
In this incarnation of TMNT, the turtles fight the evil Kraang. Their main target is April O'Neil. The reasons why have been kept vague until it is revealed that she herself is a mutant! Not any mutant but a combination of Kraang and human DNA.
9. The Philosopher Stone is made out of People (Fullmetal Alchemist series)
Brothers Edward and Alphonse Elric committed the ultimate taboo and attempted to bring back their deceased mother. However, in the process Ed lost his arm and leg while Alphonse lost his body and became a soul bound to a suit of armor. The brothers came to believe that only the philosopher stone, who is said to hold unlimited alcchemic potential, was the only way to get their bodies back to normal. That dream is shattered when they learn that the stone is made by killing thousands of people.
Tumblr media
8. The Author was Stan's Twin Brother (Gravity Falls)
Gravity Falls is a town that holds many secrets. During their summer visiting their great uncle Stan, Dipper and Mabel discover a mysterious book that holds the secrets that lie beneath Gravity Falls. A major theme throughout this show is "who is the author" the mystery twins encounter many strang things in their quest to find out who they are. Only to have it revealed that Stan's brother was the author.
7. Chad is still in the KND (Codename Kids Nextdoor)
In the beginning of this series, Chad or #274, was the leader of the KND. Until his 13th birthday, when he betrayed them. Throughout the series Chad joins the KNDs nemesis, the teenagers, and takes a part in their plots to destroy the KND. However, when #1 is given a chance to take him out, Chad reveals that he never left the KND and was working as a spy.
6. Grandpa Max was a Plumber (Ben 10)
Ben 10 tells the story of ten year old Ben Tennyson who is on summer vacation with is grandfather and cousin, traveling the U.S in an old RV. On the first night Ben finds the Omnitrex, a device that allows him to transform into different aliens.
By the end of the first season Max reveals that he was a Plumber, an intergalactic police officer, and had know the whole time what the Omnitrex was and the Aliens Ben transformed into. While not a huge twist (the series would have some bigger ones as it continued) it was still a shock to learn that Max knew what was going on the whole time.
5. Rose betrayed the Huntsclan (American Dragon: Jake Long)
Dragon Jake Long fell in love with a member of The Huntsclan, Rose or Huntsgirl. However, she in turn fell in love with Jake not knowing that he was a dragon. Rose gets the chance to kill Jake, if she does she will become a full fledged member, but Jake shows her his human face. In turn she lets him go and runs away.
During the second season, the Huntsclan attemp to destroy every magical creature by using mythical skulls that grant anyone who brings them together a perfect wish (Think the dragonballs). In the last moment she strikes down her master and instead wishes for the destruction of the Huntsclan, knowing that that will include her.
Tumblr media
4. Rose Quortz was Pink Diamond (Steven Universe)
Many believed that Rose Quortz, the leader of the resistance and mother of Steven, had shattered Pink Diamond, one of the heads of the Gems. However it is revealed in season 5 that she WAS pink diamond and had faked her own death to protect the Earth.
3. Nagisa's blood lust came from his mother (Assassination Classroom)
Class 3E is the bottom of society, but they have been given the chance of a lifetime. A being who can move at mock 20 says that he will destroy the Earth in one year, unless one of them can Assassinate him. He takes on the role of their homeroom teacher to better prepare them.
Out of all the students in 3E, Nagisa Shoita was the lest impressive. He was small, weak, and looked more feminine than his female classmates. Yet, Nagisa has the national talent of an assassin. He managed to get the drop on their gym teacher, a man who is skilled in many fighting styles, and took down an ex military officer (twice). He has surprised his classmates with his abilities, feom getting the drop on top assassins, including their homeroom teacher, to installing fear with just a glare.
However, this came at a price. His mother is abusive beyond reason. She forces Nagisa to grow his hair long, makes him wear dresses and other feminine clothing. On several occasions she has bashed his head into solid objects. She is unpredictable, forcing Nagisa to do what all children in that situation do, learn to control his emotions and read the thoughts of others. This woman created a viper.
Tumblr media
2. Eric Cartman and Scott Tenerman are brothers (South Park)
Cartmans mom has always been loose. The identity of her son's father was likely going to stay a mystery. But during the second episode of season 2 we get our answer (kinda). The answer was given now we could move on.
In a later episode Cartman gets scammed and humiliated by Scott Tenerman, an older teenager. So, Cartman devises a scheme. In the end Scotts parents are dead and eaten in some chille.
Many seasons later its revealed that Scott's Father and Eric's are one and the same. Ms. Cartman amd the town had lied about his identity in order to protect his public image. Thus Cartman killed his own father.
1. Zak Saturday is Kur (The Secret Saturdays)
From the beginning I knew this would be number one.
The Secret Saturdays is about a family of scientists who study crypteds, or strange creatures with unique abilities. The most dangerous was Kur, a creature said to have the power to raise a crypted army and take over the world. Zak has the ability to manipulate crypteds leaving him and his family to believe that shoukd Kur be unleashed onto the world, Zaks power woukd be the only thing that coukd stop it.
At the end of season 1, the truth is revealed that Zak IS Kur.
The entire first season is dedicated to finding Kur and talking about how dangerous he is. Then it turns out that it's Zak, a 12 year old boy with a kind heart. I cannot describe how shocked I was, then having to wait years to find out the outcome (we moved around alot) killed me.
Tumblr media
Remember that this is my opinion. What are some of your favorite plot twists in animation?
(Images are not mine, all credit goes to the artists)
67 notes · View notes
quirknojutsuzine · 4 years
Text
Camp Crossover🏕
Hello, aspiring heroes and ninjas! To thank you all for sending us over 50 headcanons, our very own Mod Kairi (@kairi-chan) wrote a hilarious and engaging fic based on a headcanon we received! Don’t hesitate to send us more because our inbox and CuriousCat are always open! We hope you enjoy reading! :D
Genre: Humor & Slice of Life
Rating: T
Headcanon: “Bakugou being obsessed with explosive tags”
The forest shook with explosions—rocks, splinters, and dirt flying everywhere. Kirishima hardened his body and raised his arms to protect himself. His friend was yelling expletives at the guy with pearl-colored eyes.
“Stop looking at me funny, you damn extra!” Bakugo yelled. He flexed his fingers, little explosives going off. “And stop with that ballerina turning shit!”
The other guy raised a brow but did not change his stance. His arms were opened wide and slightly tilted downward. “You’re more obnoxious than Naruto.”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Bakugo screamed, the explosives around his hands getting bigger. “WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE!”
Kirishima grimaced and took a step forward. “Come on, stop it. Sensei said we were supposed to get along with these guys.” His friend was short-tempered, and it would have been fine if he only ran his mouth, but Bakugo was a man of action.
“He started it! Looking at me all funny with his creepy eyes.”
“It is the Byakugan,” Neji explained simply. “But I don’t need it to take down someone as simpleminded as you.”
“Oh shit.” Kirishima slapped his hand on his forehead. This guy was a piece of work and knew how to taunt his opponents well, he’d give him that. And here he thought he would have been able to have a nice training session today.
“I will blow you to bits, you ballerina weird-eyed extra!” Bakugo lunged forward, his arms behind him as he let out a string of explosives from his arms to thrust him forward. He jumped, and brought his arms and hands in front of him, unleashing his firepower on the ninja. “DIE!”
Kirishima tried to look away, but kept one eye open, wanting to see what would happen next. He braced himself for the explosion about to come but got blown off his feet from behind. He went flying to Bakugo and ruined his momentum. Neji fluidly evaded them and watched as the two fell flat on their face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” A worried and feminine voice called out. The bushes rustled and out came Momo, holding on to a kunai knife with an explosive tag attached on the end. “I’m sorry, I aimed wrong!”
“Is anyone hurt?” Tsuyu came jumping in and looked at her two classmates on the ground. She only blinked, and then looked back at Momo. “I think they’re okay.”
“Oh thank goodness.” Momo sighed, a hand on her chest.
“Maybe we should have started with the smaller tags…” Tenten chuckled and scratched the back of her neck as she approached Momo. “That was a good first try, though.” She then shifted her attention to her teammate. “Oh, Neji. I didn’t know you were training today.”
He only nodded. “Someone wanted to challenge me.”
“Oh? How did that go?” Tenten asked curiously.
Neji stepped aside and revealed Bakugo pushing Kirishima off of him, a scowl on his face.
“What the hell was that?” Kirishima rubbed his head. “It was a good thing I was using my quirk. It was stronger than Bakugo’s explosives…”
“Haaaa?!” Bakugo scowled again. “What could be stronger than me?!”
“This.” Tenten took the kunai from Momo’s hand and twirled it around her fingers. “Your explosive tricks aren’t so unique, here.” She giggled.
Bakugo did not find that funny. He ground his teeth together and got up on his feet, rushing towards her to look at it. “That’s just a fucking piece of paper.”
The kunoichi nodded and touched the tag with her finger before twirling it quickly and then throwing it at a far off tree. Right when the knife made contact with the trunk, a loud explosion came off. Momo, Tsuyu, and Kirishima winced. Neji looked unphased, while Tenten retained the smirk on her lips.
Bakugo, however, looked on with stars in his eyes, and a wicked grin slowly spread on his face. He turned around to face Tenten and shook her shoulders. “You gotta fucking give me some of those!”
.
.
.
“Shannaro!” Sakura’s voice was quickly overpowered with the sound of the earth and rocks splitting apart, dust quickly rising and covering her form.
Deku was shaking with excitement, his eyes wide with wonder and a smile on his face. “That is so cool!” He squealed, gripping his notebook. “Sakura-chan, you’re so cool!”
The girl before him looked nothing someone who could wreak so much havoc. She was lithe, cute, and had pink hair. But that really shouldn’t have surprised him. Heroes came in all shapes and sizes, after all.
The kunoichi brushed her hair away from her face and grinned at him. “Thanks! The key is concentrating all your chakra to your fist and releasing it at the right moment.”
“Concentrating all your chakra to your fist and releasing it at the right moment,” Deku repeated as he scribbled that down on his notebook. He took a step back when Sakura used the body flicker technique and ended right next to him, easily erasing the twenty-five-meter space between them. She peered at his notebook. “Are you writing that down? How studious of you.”
He tried not to act too surprised. She could teleport, too? Deku had to write that down. “Uh-umm… Yeah.” He nodded and closed his notebook. “I write all of my observations and study them later on. I’m not the most talented, so I do what I can to catch up to my classmates.”
Sakura hummed, green eyes softening. “Is that so?”
“Huh? What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Sakura laughed. “You just remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. I don’t have any special kekkei genkais, but I work and train hard under Tsunade-sama so I could catch up to my friends, too.”
“Ooh.” Deku’s eyes widened, and so did his grin. “Then we can work hard together.”
“For sure!” Sakura pumped her fist in the air. “Now, tell me about that jutsu of yours. Kaka-sensei said it sounded similar to my technique, and you could use some help with chakra control.”
“Oh, it’s-it’s a quirk.” Deku looked at his hands and flexed his fingers. “I can unleash a great amount of power and speed, but I’m still learning how to control it so I won’t hurt myself.”
“Ah, I heard about that, too.” Sakura giggled. “Don’t worry, I can heal you if you go too far.”
“Eehh? You can heal, too?!” More than two quirks?! That was amazing! “How do you do it?”
“Same way I split the ground apart.” Sakura removed her glove and held her palm up for Deku to see. Slowly, it started to glow green, reflecting in his eyes. “Chakra control.”
“Teach me, please!” Deku stood up straight and then bowed low from the waist. “Please, Sakura-chan, teach me how to control my quirk!”
Green eyes widened for a moment, and then a determined smirk grew on her lips. “You got it. I’m not going easy on you, you know?”
Deku straightened up, his eyes glinting with the challenge. “I will take any form of training you will give me!”
.
.
.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine!” Ochako strained and ground her teeth. She lifted her leg from the ground and kicked the wooden dummy even harder than she had. “Thirty!”
“Good job, Ochako-san! The fire of youth burns greatly within you!” Rock Lee gave her a grin and a thumbs up.
The girl put her leg down and grinned at him, too. “This is so hard, Lee-san but I can feel myself getting stronger!”
“It is only difficult when you do not have the power of youth!” Lee clenched his fists, the fire burning in his eyes. “But you have it and it is imperative you keep going!”
“Right!” Ochako felt her whole body ignite with motivation and determination. She faced the dummy again and took her stance. “Thirty-one!” She kicked. “Thirty-two!” She kicked again.
“That’s right, you’re doing great! Do three hundred on your right and another three hundred on your left!”
“Thirty—what?!” She paled. “Th-three hundred?”
“I see you want more of a challenge, very well, five hundred! I like your spirit!” The ninja grinned, his pearly-white teeth sparkling. His attention then shifted to the fast-approaching student.
Iida was running right towards them, using his arms for momentum. A cloud of dirt was trailing behind him.
“Another youthful contender!” Rock Lee readied himself to run along with Iida. “Come, we shall run a hundred laps around the village!” He took off the moment he and Iida were side by side, and easily speeding up, leaving Iida behind.
“Don’t think this is the best I’ve got!” Iida shouted and ran even faster, shouting as he caught up with Rock Lee.
.
.
.
“Hey, guys!” Deku waved, a large grin on his face. He sat down on the table, in front of Kirishima. “How was your first day with the Ninja teams? Sakura-chan was kind enough to heal me when I got carried away, too.”
“Ooh.” Ochako beamed. “She has a strength and healing quirk? Maybe I should ask her if she’s free…” she slumped on the table. “I can’t feel my legs…”
“Neither can I.” Iida wobbled over to the table and set his food down. “Lee-san is formidable.” He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “His speed is amazing.”
“Ooh!” Deku was amazed. This training camp with the students in the other show was a wonderful idea. “I want to train with him next! How about you, Kirishima?”
“I didn’t get to train with Neji so much…” Kirishima sighed and picked at his food. “Bakugo picked a fight with him instead and found a new toy.”
“Oh? What did Kacchan find?”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
“Aaah!” Ochako screamed and held her arms up instinctively to protect herself.
Deku did the same but quickly held on to his glass to stop it from toppling over.
Kirishima didn’t even blink. “Explosive tags.”
In the distance, Bakugo’s maniacal screaming and laughing could be heard, followed by more explosions. Tenten was screaming something indistinct, probably telling him to stop.
“Is Kacchan still training?” Deku muttered, trying to look out the window.
“No, apparently they have these paper bomb thingies.” Kirishima picked up a tissue to demonstrate. “You activate it with chakra and it detonates after a given time.”
“Ooh!” Ochako’s eyes widened. “What makes it explode?”
Kirishima shrugged his shoulder up. “Uuuhh… Ninja magic?”
“Chakra!” Deku’s eyes were also wide with wonder. He picked up his notebook and started scribbling on it, muttering to himself about the wonders of Ninja tools and their different quirks.
More explosives went off, and Kirishima sighed again when Aizawa came jumping out in his yellow bean bag. He hopped outside and started screaming at Bakugo to stop.
Kirishima sighed again. “I wasn’t able to learn anything new like you two today.”
“Why so down?” Ojiro came by, holding on to his tray.
“He’s sad he didn’t get to learn with his appointed Ninja today,” Ochako explained.
“Oh.” Ojiro smiled sympathetically at him. “If you want, you can join me and Jirou tomorrow. We got assigned to Kiba. I heard he has some sort of dog-like quirk… and an actual dog.”
Kirishima peeked at him. “Really?” That sounded interesting. “Can you ask him for me?”
“Sure.” His classmate smiled. “Just make sure you tell Aizawa-sensei.”
“That sounds fun, Kirishima-kun!” Ochako beamed. “And he has a dog! I’m sure it’s cute.”
That brought a smile on Kirishima’s face. “Yeah, I guess it sounds fun.” The camp was long from over, and he promised he would get stronger from this learning experience.
53 notes · View notes
doctorgerth · 5 years
Note
May I ask for relationship hc's (sfw and nsfw) for X Drake ?Please
Absolutely!!!! X Drake is a little harder to work with since we’ve seen so little of him, so this is strictly just my own interpretation of him. I hope you find it sufficient!! Enjoy, my dear. x
PSA: I am gonna start tagging nsfw content as #sinful or #lemon from now on. That way I won’t experience any more flags! 
Now, on to the sinning! 
X Drake SFW+NSFW Relationship HCs
Tumblr media
SFW:
- being a rather serious man, I feel as if he is more inclined to fall for someone fun; not necessarily obnoxious, but someone who can keep him on his toes and keep his life interesting!
- he finds playful attitudes in a partner very endearing; bonus points if they’re mature and sophisticated in front of others, but isn’t afraid to show off their silly side when it’s just them; he enjoys the feeling of being able to “let loose” around his partner after being so serious all day
- he also finds intelligence in a partner very attractive as he enjoys having meaningful, thought-provoking, and informational conversations
- of course he wouldn’t admit it, but he likes someone who can break the scowl on his face; he’s had a sad life, so he’s not opposed to his partner being his little sunshine (definitely a nickname he uses on occasion in private)
- it takes a mighty long time for Drake to fall for someone, much preferring if he’s either known them for a while or if he can develop some sort of trusting bond beforehand; he’s not one to just dive into dating/courting, he needs to know he can trust them before he even thinks about getting involved romantically
- and once he is finally involved he takes his relationship very seriously; very loyal and always willing to protect/care for his partner, and though he might express it in subtle ways, he always offers them his utmost love and affection
- definitely the marriage type as he never dates just to date, he forms relationships with people because he sees a potential future with them; he wants to settle down one day with someone he loves, maybe even raise a family
- not into PDA in the least bit, he finds it super embarrassing (he gets all flustered when they act touchy!), so his partner has to respect his boundaries and the reputation he has to maintain; if his partner desires physical contact, he always makes up for it during their alone time behind closed doors
- he can be a bit awkward as he’s always wanted to express affection for another, but he’s never really known how to, given his past; therefore, he usually lets his partner take control of the cuddling sessions, he’ll just kinda leave his arms open for them to ravish him with hugs and kisses that he graciously accepts
- his kisses are a bit hesitant, always worrying that he’s doing something wrong, so his lover usually takes control in this case as well until he finds a steady groove; his lips are really soft!
- prefers to place his hands delicately on their hips or at the small of their back (if height allows) and take his time with some intimate kissing; if his lover can wrap their arms around his neck/run their fingers through his hair, he’ll be smiling and melting into the kiss!
- loves to touch his lover’s face (preferably without gloves); whether he’s rubbing their cheeks, grazing his thumb over their lips, or caressing their face lovingly, he just cherishes how soft they are and how they always look up at him so adoringly
- he honestly gets overwhelmed sometimes by just how lucky he is to have someone be so unconditionally in love with him; he was raised in an abusive environment, causing him to feel as if he’s unworthy of love and affection, so he needs a partner who isn’t ever afraid to show their love for him as he can be a bit insecure
- his partner must be prepared when he holds on a little too tight, tears welling in his eyes during even the most simple cuddle times; he’s just basking in the love, hoping they can feel just how much he loves them in return!
- not very argumentative, prefers to talk things out; he feels comfortable to openly express his feelings to his partner, so he expects the same from them; he gets really upset if they give him the silent treatment/walk away from him
- besides “sunshine”, he also likes to call his partner “darling”, “dear”, or “love”; sometimes he slips these endearing nicknames in public and he gets super embarrassed, instantly becoming snarky at anyone who makes fun of him for it
- the only time he’s truly okay with his s/o riding his back in dino form is when they’re escaping dangerous situations; but…he has let his s/o ride on his back just for funsies once or twice before, each time swearing it’ll never happen again, but he knows he can’t deny his lover that satisfaction forever
- is not scared to get a little bloodthirsty if someone threatens or harms his lover; nothing as precious as them should ever be attacked; hops into angry dino mode real fast
- speaking of protection, Drake much prefers his s/o stay on his ship or somewhere safe away from the trouble he faces, especially if they are unable to protect themselves; he’s confident in his protection skills but he just can’t take the risk as his biggest fear is losing them and he doesn’t exactly hide it
- though he is a stoic man with a professional reputation to maintain, he always makes sure his lover never ever doubts his love for them through his own unique ways! a very selfless partner who will go the distance to make his lover truly happy in life
(( NSFW UNDER THE CUT ))
NSFW:
- okay first things first, as we all know our Dino Daddy is absolutely weak for women’s naked bodies, but this can apply to a male partner as well!
- he gets super flustered seeing them naked, no matter how many times they’ve had sex by then; his face gets all heated and he just feels like a little teenage boy all over again!
- he’s so eager to touch them but he’s always chivalrous, tending to ask for permission to touch them (even if it’s nonverbal) though his hands have explored every inch of their body time and time again previously
- if his partner comes at him in some lingerie, whew boy he has to fight the impending nosebleed; but he likes to take a minute to enjoy them in the lingerie first, running his hands along the fabric while he mentally takes a snapshot of the beautiful sight, then he gets to his favorite part: undressing them~
- definitely a titty man, he’s a sucker for burying his face in his lover’s tits, they’re just warm and squishy; small tits, huge tits, he loves and appreciates them all!
- very proud of his toned chest and thighs, so he loves when his partner praises him/gives these areas special attention; including raking their nails against the skin, trailing kisses, riding his thigh, etc.
- Drake is not really into inflicting or receiving excessive pain during sex, the most he is comfortable with is scratching, hair-pulling, light biting, and light spanking every now and then; his sharp fangs have unleashed at times, but he never bites hard enough to draw blood
- sex with Drake can definitely be primal, especially in times after battle or reuniting after lengthy time apart, but his choice of love-making is more passionate and tender; he loves to take his time with his partner, relishing in the love they are professing to one another
- Drake is extra handsy during sex, they’re never off his partner! whether they’re on their chest, their back, their legs, their ass, etc. his hands are constantly holding onto his partner as he craves the physical connection, holding them close is just never close enough!
- some of his go-to positions include thigh master, the double-decker, and face-off; since he’s not much of a kinky guy, he typically makes up for it by trying unique positions as long as they are comfortable
- loves a woman on top as he can hold her (and bury his face in her boobs) while she controls the pace, he finds the feminine power beyond sexy; also never against being a bottom with a male partner, Drake is definitely a switch
- one of his favorite places to have sex? the bath tub; it’s so intimate yet so thrilling! this is his favorite place to have his woman ride him as he just relaxes in the water; watching her soaked, lathered body bouncing up and down on his cock makes for some really relaxing sex; with a male partner he prefers to lean back into their chest while lazily grinding on them, allowing his partner’s hands to roam along his body freely
- he’s decent at dirty talk, more comfortable with saying sensual and romantic words than “filthy”, and he prefers to keep things simple, loving to praise his partner; he blushes heavily at a partner who praises him/has a dirty mouth, he won’t always respond verbally, mostly with a low grunt of approval; he curses the most when he’s cumming
- “Mmm, you feel so good, darling.” // “I want to ravish you.” // “Can I touch you here?” // “Does that feel good, love?” // “Oh, you ride me so beautifully.” // “You look absolutely divine begging for me.”
- foreplay is his specialty as he loves taking his time to warm up his partner for the main event; fingering, eating out, sucking dick, he’s always really really good at it; he’s usually a little hesitant going down on his partner (scared of his teeth unleashing) nevertheless he always goes wild when his partner runs their fingers through his hair while he’s down there, encouraging him on
- he’s not very loud in bed and he doesn’t like a super loud partner as he can’t have his ship hearing their business!; if his partner is loud he is inclined to cover their mouth while they have sex, but it works for him as he honestly gets a little turned on by their muffled moans of pleasure
- to counter that, Drake is loud as fuck when he cums, he’ll grit his teeth and grab onto his partner tightly as a growl escapes his throat, a few blaring curses laced among his partner’s name as he releases; he prefers to cum inside his partner, but if they are uncomfortable he will usually release onto their tits (the second best place), their stomach, or in his hand
-  he is wonderful about the cleanup process, quick to grab a spare towel or wet rag to help clean his partner and himself off, he’s always willing to change the sheets and remake the bed together; sometimes they will escape off into the bath where round two typically happens
- cuddle time with Drake is always extra cuddly after sex, he holds his partner close, reassuring that the session was good and that his partner is happy; he doesn’t last long for pillow talk before he snoozes off as he always falls asleep fast with his partner in his arms!
135 notes · View notes
bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years
Text
Goretober Day 30
Prompt: Possession 
Fandoms: Avatar & Winx Club
Characters: Azula & Icy
Song Rec: KVBVLV - DESПOEИA 
Summary: Icy is an exorcist, Azula is one of her hardest jobs.
Icy had taken on many jobs but she has never seen anyone so wholly consumed as the girl in front of her.
Her soul is so polluted that she is barely human anymore.
She doesn't have faint glimmers of herself that bleed through and aid in the fight as most of the possessed do. She is merely a host. A shell of a vessel. So far gone that her own family fears her.
She almost doesn’t look human either, with wild eyes that sometimes went fully white and long straggly black hair. Icy affords it to pure coincidence that her hair just so happened to be long and black like the most typical thriller-esque ghost. Her skin isn’t exactly pale, but this far into the possession it has taken on thick dark webby veins. 
The girl throws her head back and screeches, it is a hellish sound; mostly demon, guttural and indescribable. The sort of noise that brought with it inexplicable terror. But there are traces of her in there. A very faint undertone, soft and feminine and irrevocably agonized.
Icy supposes that that is as close to a glimmer of humanity as she will get with this one. God knows how long the family has left her chained to her bed and consumed with the dark. The father vows that he had things under control and that the girl was simply mad, had been that way her whole life. 
Icy remains unconvinced that he didn’t have anything to do with how the demon came to cling to her in the first place. 
The mother had been the one to chain her, Icy doesn’t doubt her sincerity in claiming that it has been done out of fear and fear alone. That the girl had tried to strangle and stab her brother as she vowed to claim his soul too. That, even in chains, the girl was a terror and had flung things across the room with her mind. 
For it, Icy can’t particularly blame the mother for keeping the child bound. She faults the woman for not contacting an exorcist sooner. The demon has had time to fester and fully consume. She can tell that it has taken a great liking to its host. The girl, prior to possession, had been healthy in body and slightly unhinged in mind--her brother made mention of cruel apathy prior to possession--she is truly everything a demon can hope for and it is not letting go of her easily.
Icy holds the cross before her and begins muttering words of banishment. One way or another, she will drive the demon out. It grows angrier as her speech continues. The guttural growling grows harsher and deeper still. Icy thinks that the girl’s throat might tear within. Yet Icy remains undeterred and continues citing scripture and words of banishing.
As the demon grows more restless so do Icy’s words grow louder. Louder until the demon shrikes again, this time the girl’s own voice is more present. A good sign. Now, if Icy can get her to fight too... 
She feels a gash form on her face and three more vertical lines slash onto her back. She almost stops her chant to utter a curse, to call the demon the bitch it is. She persists with the chanting and ignores the burning sensation that intensifies in her back. 
The girl has it worse, her nose and ears bleed and her eyes go black. “She is mine.” It vows. “Her soul is mine.” 
Icy rolls her eyes, the demon speaks as if she has not heard that said many times before. There is no point in offering it a response other than a more persistent chant and, if she is feeling petty, a healthy sprinkle of holy water. 
This demon has vexed her to pettiness so she lets the droplets rain. She ignores the girl’s anguished cry. This far into the exorcism and with such a vile and powerful demon, Icy can’t afford sympathy. 
At all costs this demon must be extinguished. She must disregard the host and her feelings entirely. 
So she does. 
The demon cuts lines and symbols into the girls skin and slashes them deeper the more desperate it gets. By now, the girl is coughing up and gurgling her own blood. Her mouth, chin, and nose are a mess of it. Icy is fairly certain that she is weeping blood. Blood and some disturbing inky substance.
In the back of her mind, Icy does feel horrible for the girl, the demon is abusing her body is such a profound way. Her back is arched in a way most impossible, Icy can’t imagine that the host is very comfortable. Were it not for the chains, she’d probably be hovering with that long hair cascading down. She begins thrashing at the chains, wildly, animalistically. The sounds she makes are hellish; growls and sounds of a variety that Icy has never heard, even with ten years of experience on her record. 
 This demon is a fighter. It is latched on so deeply and swollen with evil and like some bloated leech. Icy begins to fear that she won’t be able to expel the demon, muchless vanquish it. She loses her composure and snarls. “Alright fine, let’s do this the hard way.” She takes the cross and rams it onto the girl’s forehead. 
A death sentence. 
She unleashes her loudest scream yet. It chill Icy so deeply to hear so much humanity in the cry and so little of the demon. But demons are deceivers, that small lapse in its hold is likely a clever trick. 
But the girl locks eyes with her. And Icy sees their real color, at least in one of them. It is a vivid gold, an alluring gold. And there is fight in that eye. The demon seizes full control again and her eyes goes black once more. 
As vicious as it can manage, it throws Icy back with much force and flings all manner of items in the room at her. 
“Fuck.” Icy hisses to herself. It is partially her own fault for letting her guard down even slightly. But the girl, she realizes, is causing havoc of her own. She positions her body in such a way that even the demon seems uncomfortable; her back is arched again and she holds herself high enough so that her arms dangle, fingertips barely brushing the mattress. One leg is crossed, impossibly over the other. And then her body freezes altogether. 
It is enough time for Icy to find the cross and lay it back on her head.The cry that cuts through the air is fully demon, but the laugh is entirely of the host’s own. Icy resumes her chant. The girl’s mouth leaks blood and ooze, it does so fast. A puddle begins to soak into the mattress. 
Icy finishes her scripture citing and the girl’s body drops to the mattress, folded awkwardly. There is a moment of pause. Of peace and total silence. And then she screeches again, somehow infinitely more pained than any of the times earlier. 
Her mouth goes agape and a thick shadow rips its way out. 
The girl goes limp and Icy thinks that she may be dead. 
She has only ever killed one other person doing an exorcism, it is the exorcism that nearly had her leave the profession. The image of the child resurfaces. Icy shoves it back, her job isn’t finished. 
Now that she doesn’t have to worry about completely mutilating the host, she fights with more fury; yelling all manners of holy words and banishing commands. She flings the holy water more generously and notes the steam that rises from the shadow. She holds the cross to the figure with more force. 
It grows angrier and opens the wounds on her back further. It slashes her face and her stomach. It is trying to tear her to ribbons. 
Icy feels her body weaken. Indeed, she has underestimated this one. 
As it draws nearer she becomes well aware of its intentions and thinks of impaling herself on a spear of her own ice. She doesn’t have time to do so before the vile thing thrusts a shadowy hand into her mouth. 
In all of her years, she never imagined that she’d, during an exorcism, become one of the possessed. 
But the demon stops short. It takes a moment for Icy to realize why, and perhaps it is because the girl is speaking so softly. Her voice is horse and raspy, but her words are clear. She is repeating that which had been said to her only minutes prior. 
Icy smirks, she admires the girl’s resilience and drive. Her brazenness. 
Her only fault is that she is an unpracticed. 
But her basic understanding and skill set is enough to leave Icy an opening to finish the job; she douses the cross in holy water and drives it into the demon’s head with a few final words of expelling. The thing flickers like a static error on a TV screen and its form begins to melt and fade into nothing. 
The girl slumps over. 
Icy unchains her and holds her steady. She is unfocused and dazed. She looks unfathomably tired. Icy rubs her back soothingly. If the girl can last only a few more minutes, the  demon’s blight will begin to fade and her body will right and repair itself. She just needs to endure. 
“You’re first exorcism.” Icy notes. 
“Hopefully my last.” The girl mumbles. 
“Hopefully it will be your last possession. If you can deter a demon like that on your first try…” Icy pauses. “I hope that you will preform another exorcism.”
The girl’s head sinks into Icy’s shoulder and the witch fears the worst. But then the girl asks, “is there such a thing as cleansing fire?” Weak is the girl is, she pushes back and holds herself up, just long enough to ignite a fire in her palm. It blazes from blue to white and then blue again. Icy is suddenly aware of just why the demon had been so fixated on her; the girl does indeed have the cleansing flame. One burst of that can singe away lesser demons in a single strike. The flame roars in her palm for a moment longer and then she topples back onto the bed. Icy shakes her gently. The girl doesn’t move. 
“Shit.” Icy hisses. She can’t afford to lose such a powerful girl. “You need to get up. You have something special and you need to be able to use it.” 
The girl shifts and murmurs something indistinguishable.  Icy shakes her again and rouses her a little further. Icy is relieved to see that her eyes are looking less foggy. She is coming to, slowly and steadily. 
.oOo.
Her family wouldn’t take her back; she is a thing of fear to her mother and brother and to her father she had never been anything more than a ritual piece. And so Azula trails behind Icy, the sky is concreate, the first drops of rain dot her face and the wind whips her hair wildly. It is her first real job and Icy can sense the anxious anticipation that ebbs off of her. 
Yet her expression is fierce, her eyes hold that sparkle of determination that Icy has grown used to seeing on her. She carries herself tall and with confidence, Icy is certain that her fear will be wholly masked by the time they reach the house of their client. The girl, in training, has displayed a stoicism and fearlessness that is crucial to the job. Such a lack of emotion that she will be hard for a demon to fight or latch onto. It is a style that Icy had not come across until Azula. Not even she has been able to fully factor out emotion, not like this girl. She is truly a marvelous apprentice. 
“Would you like to approach first?” Icy asks. 
The girl remains silent. She doesn’t really speak much at all in general. She simply gives a firm nod and begins ascending the stairs of the Maddernson Manor. She tosses a look back at Icy and the wind tosses her hair out of her face.
On her forehead is an imprint of a cross and on her cheek is a small scar; the only signs that she has had a demon inside of her. 
Icy puts a hand over her chest. 
Beneath the fabric of her robe is a similar scar. 
She reaches into her pocket, curls her finger around a silver pocket watch and thanks her predecessor. 
6 notes · View notes
vsag23 · 5 years
Text
Venus in Scorpio. Mars in Libra.
Are these two planets in “detriment?”
What do you mean “detriment?”
Misusing their power, weakening their energies through negativity, trying to be who they are not?
Us modern folk hate this kind of psychologically invasive vocabulary. But Planets—teachers of soul lessons—do best offering certain courses, and not others, where the message just isn’t getting through. Rather than Scorpionic paranoia, shadow-processing, and control, the goddess Venus would rather be a harmonious diplomat, a pleasant partner in love with both her senses and her beloved. And rather than throwing his energy into a million relationships and uncertain directions in choosing not your own adventure, but everyone else’s distracted, parallel universe plotlines, Warrior Mars would be on his own quest, doing his thing rising to the top of society or riding the wild and primal machine of his beast wherever it lead.
Even though the God and Goddess are in ‘detriment’ during this Saturday’s New Moon at 26 Scorpio, whose sabian symbol speaks to the dangerous, but voluptuous potential between the Masculine, the Feminine, and the 50 Shades of Grey between: A MILITARY BAND MARCHES NOISILY ON THROUGH THE CITY STREETS
Enraptured, what clamor will you use now to reveal and ravage your soul contracts?
God Mars occupies Goddess Venus’ sign of rulership Libra, and Venus travels Mars’ sign of rulership, Scorpio. We call this unique alignment “mutual reception,” and it means the planets reinforce each other and blend their themes together, sharing a common goal, a unified purpose, which seem to be question gender, identity, and the medicine weapon we call sexuality.
Will the God and Goddess rescue each other now, or will they sabotage attempts at transcending duality, or will they collapses together as they make love, only to rise and grind again into that greater understanding?
Mars in Libra: Why didn’t you text me back? I mean especially after the way you kissed me – that wasn’t a surface, ‘let me get to know you’ kiss, that was a kiss you wished you would have said yes to in another lifetime, in hindsight, end of life review, because a different life, a deeper love, a meaning, would have erupted into being.
Venus in Scorpio: You don’t have to be so dramatic.
Mars in Libra: Dramatic?!! I prefer being romantic, but you love that sort of underworld drama queen thing, creating stories about me before you even think to ask a question, I’m a make-believe-image inside your projection. And How many Arrows have you unleashed into my breath – what I “should have our could have been?”
Venus in Scorpio: How many Hooks have you used to shape me into your manipulation? I can’t just wear some mask of happy-go-lucky couple when we’re working shit out!
Mars in Libra: And what about all those Suckers you used to feed off me?! You’ve grown in so much influence and power because of connecting with my friends!
Venus in Scorpio: You’re right, I have. I forget to express my gratitude for that.
Mars in Libra: Because you’re so busy being suspicious. We can’t even go out and have a chill time because there’s always some hidden layer, some crime investigation you have to make into your mission.
Venus in Scorpio: Look, you wanted the open relationship. I did not sign up for that.
Mars in Libra: You did. You wanted us to do the handfasting for 6 months, even though you knew you wanted a monogamous relationship, and I wanted freedom to appreciate whatever love blossomed in my presence.
Venus in Scorpio: You handfasted because you wanted to make promises you ‘thought’ you could keep, and I handfasted because I let you sleep in my bed. Again. And Again.
Mars in Libra: Between your legs
Venus in Scorpio: Into my head.
Mars in Libra: We’re talking about the Heart here.
Venus in Scorpio: We’re talking about why it’s ok for you to have so many lovers, and how, somehow, that does not take away from the depth of our connection, and our possibilities to really make some impact in the world together. We’re so much stronger together than on our own, but then you’re flirting over here, or on this trip over there, and making this excuse over there, but as long as it all ‘looks good,’ to everyone, then that’s enough.
Mars in Libra: I’m really attracted to the genius and beauty of many different people.
Venus in Scorpio: That sounds nice. Can’t you just make a decision, about anything, like choosing to be just with me?
Mars in Libra: I’m choosing to be in this conversation, although I feel like you’re setting a trap for me.
Venus in Scorpio: You don’t have to get upset.
Mars in Libra: “I’m not getting upset! I’m trying to keep the peace around here! Why do we have to process everything all the time? Can’t we just have fun and enjoy sharing our companionship without so much drama?
Venus in Scorpio: I’m feeling harassed. I told you when Jupiter was in Scorpio, all these ego-inflated jerks in politics and Hollywood, like Harvey Weinstein, were going to be exposed, all the skeletons come out of the closet. There’s no more hiding and no more shame now. And I’m also going to stand up for my rights as a woman!
Mars in Libra: Yeah, but you don’t know what’s like to be constantly intimidated by every woman I approach
Venus in Scorpio: You don’t know what it’s like growing up being a woman? All the ways we have to hide our beauty to prevent attention we don’t want, while every media bombards us with more ways to look younger and sexier and ‘get the guy.’ Try traveling as a single woman in India and see what it feels like to be prey in the eyes of another. Try to be a female athlete in a man’s sport, or CFO in a world of corporate suits who make you feel like any slight mistake you make will be scrutinized by microscope and threaten any position of power you may have thought you had.
Mars in Libra: I really hear you. Don’t you feel that I support you?
Venus in Scorpio: You can’t just strip down the soul to all its naked vulnerability with everyone. I feel like you’re afraid, so I can’t trust, but you wanted to rush. Didn’t we talk about being twin flames, didn’t you say I was “the One?”
Mars in Libra: Maybe it’s just a quicksand dance to speak of ‘twin flames?’ There’s so much expectation in that.
Venus in Scorpio: Is every label a limitation or does it give us a structure to build our foundation?
Mars in Libra: I feel I’m supposed to be some version of “masculinity” that makes you feel so ‘feminine,’ when you don’t even know what that means. I’m not ‘macho enough,’ or muscular enough, or protective/providing enough? You can’t say you want all these things and then you want some gender equality. Why don’t you protect me, curl me into your womb, your bedtime spoon? Gender and sexual preference are both so hyper-conditioned growing up, from the clothes were given in the crib to the toys under the Christmas Tree to the sports we are or are not pushed to play. I’m sick of just being the product of my parent’s and my society’s conditioning. Couldn’t we just give our kids all the options without pushing our own agendas and our dystopian dreams?
Venus in Scorpio: I know. I’ve often thought that the most intense transformation we could have on this planet is to reinstate sexual rites of passage, like so many indigenous cultures have. Most of our screwed up relationship dynamics are because we get almost zero education on how to love and how to make love.
Mars in Libra: And our first sexual experiences are drunk or under pressure to be liked, and they lack any sacredness or real intentional heart-connection. The only education we get is about STD’s and its all fear based.
Mars in Libra: Could it be that: sexual harassment and predatory behavior comes form a lack of integration of one’s masculine and feminine….being able to experience the balance of that…so an Image an Ideal is projected outside of oneself, and then behavior towards that becomes distorted, becuz it’s the unprocessed feminine, the aenima in the man, or the unintegrated masculine in the woman, the aenima?
Venus in Scorpio: I wonder how much of this harassment of women would stop if more men would just allow themselves to be penetrated.
Mars in Libra: You mean….physically, down there…?
Venus in Scorpio: Of course. All men need a spicy dose of Kali right up their ass about now. Why haven’t we done that yet? You say you’re so open, but what are you afraid of? Didn’t you once tell me you gotta lose control to find freedom? Does it mean you’re gay if you like anal sex? No, it means you like a particular sensual experience.
Mars in Libra: I get what you’re saying. I mean the problem with Gender, Sexuality, all of it is that every label we put on it limits our freedom to just experience. It’s why I always hated the term “boyfriend” and “girlfriend,” so loaded with 6 trillion different meanings. Just be what we are, and if there’s someone else in the mix, then we better learn how to communicate transparently what our agreements are, and to be direct with our desires and our boundaries.
Venus in Scorpio: Easier said than done. It’s more complex when you start sharing resources with another, whether that’s finances, home, or bodily fluids.
Mars in Libra: I’m not co-dependent. I’m interdependent.
Venus in Scorpio: Yes, right. But I do often wonder about 20 years, 50 years from now…Will we look back at the Binary of Gender as a kind of dinosaur experience? A remnant of 20th century humans that lingered far too long into the 21st century?
Mars in Libra: I mean with wild revolutionary, surprise surprise innovative mad scientist Uranus in Taurus for the next 8 years, we’ll live so virtually that we can ‘wear’ whatever kind of body we want…including the opposite sex, both sexes, new hybrid sexes, animal bodies, mythical creatures….and we’ll be able to have these simulated lovemaking experiences through Virtual Reality – these already exist.
Venus in Scorpio: Mars, let’s stop all this process. Shut up and Kiss me
Mars in Libra: What took you so long, goddess? Just let me in. All the way. In.
source: https://findyourpowerplaces.com
7 notes · View notes
nicksstoryvault · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Cascading salvos of quantum novas became incandescently explosive over the Betelguese quadrant of Orion; the intergalactic barriers converged with dormant asteroid fields as celestial auroras of vaporous incendiary helium flashed against pulses of starbursts in the vacuous cosmic gateway. The golden auras of haloing Xandarian Star-pilots were the sector beacons as the Quinjet vectored through a desolate warship boneyard, hulls of A'askvariian and Kree imperial vessels-flagship and battlecruisers hauntingly orbited against the gravitic force of the junker heap-galactic strain of metastatic- tyrannic warfare left annihilative scraps of allied covenants of purged-out resistance.
Keeping himself measuringly reserved in battle-ready vigil, garbed in his navy blue Strike uniform that was tactically adorned with silver chevrons and the embossed star; like a patriotic Adonis of ironclad poise, Steve adamantly brandished up his soldiery valiance to engage the galactic mission without an impedance of hesitance, against the alpha Nova pilot's transmission urgently echoed in his com-piece. "Understood..." he murmured in stern timbre, rigidity pressing his leather-sheathed palm against the glass plane, as the vigilant stillness of his cool azure irises hawkishly captured fusion-prismatic barrages of candescent hydrogen masses-the fireworks of the galaxy. 'Not a bad view...'
There was a time Steve once told Fury that nothing else could phase, believing he'd see it all. He now wondered what else life might throw at him to challenge his perceptions of the universe. Gods, aliens, magic, supernatural and cosmic powers. And now he was onboard a ship navigating its way through the stars. How did his life get so distant from the simple Brooklyn kid who wanted to be an artist? Humanity had evolved so quickly in a little under a century and Steve wasn't so sure how much further it could go, or even if they should.
He wasn't anxious nor worried, but calmly assured by his present company as he spied a glance at his partner and...friend he'd known for the past 10 years. Natasha Romanov was a riddle wrapped in a web he wasn't so sure he could have ever unraveled. She was secretive and coy in a way that made him curious. Suspicion and uncertainty were at the root of his perception of her given who she used to work for, but over time his trust in her was greater than anyone he'd come to know in the 21st century.
It was in that moment her eyes flicked towards him and he immediately shied his gaze, wondering if she had caught him staring.
The stabilizing pulse of artificial gravity within the QuinJet, Natasha disarmingly watch him unabashedly stargaze with feigned boyish curiosity rapt over the sharply-defined angular planes of his features; the naked starkness of viscerous tension was cravingly banking in stoked ferocity as she distanced herself with measures of tactical caution-they needed to hold back against the sensuous rush beckoning them into a maelstrom of long-denied passion. She couldn't trade herself to become an extension of a reality that was forbiddingly conceived by a dance of traitorous beguile that always ricocheted into a promise of vein-scything passion.
Brandishing up a vestigial charade of sirenic nonchalance over the exquisite coolness of her alabaster features against the fiery-sleekier contrast of her braided ombré copper-platinum tresses silkily half-draped over toned svelteness of her neoprene shoulder; arrestingly Natasha fixed grayish-teal irises with a vixenish smokiness on the graven-edged tautness of his bulkier muscle; while jaunty smirk temptingly quirked over the plushier lush of her voluminous lips with an intimate—rivaling challenge of ardent heat wouldn't be staunched out.
After receiving an encrypted message safeguarded by Nick Fury's isolated Xandarian frequency that originated from Skrull cruiser, Natasha immediately responded to that conditioned protocol with utilized incarnations of her spycraft caliber; she wouldn't lose Fury to fascistic Kree war-slavers- galactic deviants of the Peace Corps stationed on barren- wastelands of Morag. Nothing 'close to the vest' was expandable. "It's funny how the playing field looks at this level..." She rasped, snarkily, keeping the raw huskiness of her undertone, conversational, as she distractingly reactivated the electric change of her Widow Bites with a deft flexion of her wrist, giving him sidelong glance, offishly. "That we're now receiving calls to dance around in the galaxy..."
"My mom once told me to never quit. Told me if I wanted to, I should reach for the stars. I don't think this was exactly what she had in mind." Steve smiled fondly at the memory. Sarah Rogers would forever be his inspiration to push past his limits and be the best he could be. But those around him were what inspired him to keep fighting the good fight and not lose sight of what was most important. "What about you?" He wondered. "Space or skies, you look comfortable behind the pilot stick."
"It's never good to be comfortable on a mission, Steve, " she rebuffed under breath, tersely, flashing a knowing gaze at Bucky as he was unmovingly secured in the co-pilot's seat with Selina curled bodily snug against the bulked solidity delineated under the Kevlar layers of his tactical garb. Tantalizingly his shapely-wide lips poutily grazed whisper-soft—phantom heat over her temple in reverent-chaste precision of evocative accord as mahogany whorls disheveledly curtained over the armrest; while cherishingly embraced under the muscle bands of corded flesh of Bucky's slack arm, dozily Selina pillowed the supple delicateness of her fevered cheek kittenishly over the bulge of his shoulder as they were melded into their intimate—reined closeness.
It was a compromised—betraying demand for an ignitable revelation that shiveringly arced in her veins. "Well, they seem to be enjoying the ride..." Natasha whispered breathily, feeling the grip of her leashed control headily fringe against the unspoken—amorous volumes starvingly beckoning her in the driven tenor of a suffusing rush of urgent—feverous havoc. "It's nice to see Barnes' like this instead of running on the edge of the afterlife..."
Seeing Bucky and Selina so comfortable with one another, even in front of others made Steve feel all sorts of things. Discomfort might have been one. It brought him back to the mall years ago when he and Natasha shared their first kiss in an effort to blend in. Public displays of affection made people uncomfortable, he had agreed then. But now they just made him feel wistful of an intimacy he longed for. "Could say the same for us." Feeling bold suddenly, Steve touches Natasha's wrist and coaxes her towards him with a warm smile. "C'mere."
His lips captured a surprised Natasha's. Warm and tender with a deep longing poured into it. He felt her lips smile against his before they reciprocated-a rapturous communion that felt soul-stealingly implosive. A heady possession of white-heat became an electrifying mania of raw voltage against blinding ferocity of thrusting pressure of his fusing plushier lips supping hungrily, the commanding-evocative deliverance of virile grace became a fiercer tenor of depthless- gloried abandon as their murmurous groans intimately dueled in rhythmic-intoxicating unison caught in a feverish rush of breath. The shadowing drift of his nose unhurriedly arrowed a scrunch of pressure into her cheek as they became lost in a wake of sensual heat; they were reaching soul-deep for eternity.
In the quenchless succession of the inexorable moment, the roughen flex of Steve's larger palm readily cradled her angling jaw with feathery tentativeness, hotly aware of the feminine delicacy that he adoringly captured as decadent echoes of unbreakable reverence intensified on yielding accord that fierily erupted against chaste tracery of heated arousal-their mirrored supremacy became heart-poundingly addictive-nothing was reined back. It was reality-the shifting thrust of their mirrored jaws, held no sterilized throb of practiced deterrence-compromise as the mesmerized rush of urgency that possessed sensuous glides of their dragging lips breathlessly melded in coupled tempo as the headier, passion-driven edge of their deepening kiss became incendiary as they blindly clung to the aphrodisiacal surge of wet heat sheening over their aching lips.
It was symphonic waltz as their bodies align without reeling back for hesitant distance, against the definite recklessness of instinctive-headlong demand; every throbbing graze of bruising pressure was commandingly recaptured in amorous-visceral fusion. Through ardent-incredible contrast of their wonderous-fevered kiss, drawing out a throaty moan, beckoningly Steve felt the cushioned flush of her kiss-swollen lips exquisitely widening so openly under the fluid smoothness of his, tactilely urging him to mindlessly plunge into careening thralls of unleashed-breathtaking ecstasy.
Kissing Natasha was like breathing in a new kind of life that made him feel weightless as if he were flying. Steve savored every bit of it and the warmth that it brought to his soul. As they slowly, sensually part from their kiss, he feels Natasha gentle tug on his bottom lip with her teeth which somehow managed to make send pleasant shivers throughout his body. The look on her face was positively beaming and smug while he struggled not to grin like an idiot. "Well...I uh...don't know about you but I'm feeling pretty comfortable." He quipped with a smirk which made the redhead roll her eyes at him.
There were times looking back he had wished that ride didn't end. But looking forward meant fighting to get it all back.
The gambit of cosmic renaissance felt soul-crushing to brace against, as gaseous fumes of sulfuric haze bleched out of sludge pits; it was a damnable reality that was eerily becoming infectious as bulbous-lumpish masses of oozy pudge-slugs-moved repulsively in dormant unison of listless traction. Keeping herself stealthily crouched on a stone ledge, as her tousled mahogany tresses errantly webbed her dirt-smudged cheeks, Selina clenched her gloved hand into a tensing fist as her dark irises glaringly roved over the sand-dune vistas-the outlands where the smoldering wreckage of the Quinjet was abandoned to rust. Gripping onto a fringe of collective impassiveness, she evicted a shiver that rushed through her veins when a massively obese slug noisily slurped up a gangly black frog screeching for release from the pudginess of the cosmic slug's protruding fin.
"Guess someone's hungry..." she quipped in disgusted pitch, instinctively easing down her lithe hand over a holstered Glock as she registered the adamant momentum of soldiery determination encroaching behind her. "Don't tell me, we're just going to knock on the door, soldier boy..."
Steve exhaled roughly as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow. The merciless heat of this planet's sun was akin to a furnace following them every step of the way across this barren wasteland riddled with strange alien life. The only thing that seemed familiar to him was the vegetation, but if he were gambling man, he'd bet a tree-vine wasn't just a tree-vine here, but a deathly appendage looking to ensnare an unsuspecting victim. Realizing his train of thought, he attributed it to either over-caution or having watched too many scifi movies with Sam. "Wouldn't be the worst idea, I've heard. Who knows, they might even have air-conditioning." He snarked. Not his typical behavior, but it had lately become a habit while operating under stress, and dealing with a teasing partner in the form of a Black Widow. Thinking of Natasha caused an ache to take hold in his chest. Stow it, soldier. He told himself.
"Stealth isn't my strongest suit. But something tells me you won't have a problem there. Think you can find us a way in?" He asked as they ducked into shade while a surveillance droid whizzed overhead on the air, barely missing them.
As the winged droid razored with blinding speed, mechanized with predatory sleekness to harrowingly resemble a swooping terradactyl, in a reactive shift of her thievish precision invested in her leather fingers, against the cacophonous pandemonium of agonized cries mounting within the barricaded fortresses' high walls, Selina clutched the Glock, leveling a kill-shot at the careening droid-at least she would have some taste of devious fun. "You Brooklyn boys always know how to show a girl a good time," she bantered out, snarkily, waiting for the droid to do another fly-by with nonchalant poise. "Just let me care of this robo-toy..."
"I got a better idea. Just hold on tight." Steve said with anticipation to a very confused Selina. Before the brunette could ask what the hell he was thinking, Steve timed the trajectory of the droid and immediately wrapped an arm around Selina's waist and charged towards the ledge. Her startled scream rang through his ear as he hauled her against his side as if she were weightless and leapt-soaring high. The droid moved above them just in time for Steve's hand to lock onto its side. He grunted and strained himself as gravity caught on and Selina dangled and struggled against him. The droid was heavy with its propulsion strong enough to keep them hovering as it continued its aerial surveillance that took them to untold heights, headed straight over the battlement of the fortress. "Don't worry, I got you." Steve told her as she struggled.
Against the precarious vistas of the atmospheric drift, as they haloed a locked-down shipyard, with traitorous urgency, blurringly Selina twined the litheness of her neoprene-clad arms over the enhanced solidity of his Kevlar-sheathed mid-drift, feeling tauten ridges of bulkier muscle vigorously flexed as she disarmingly like a spooked kitten, she pillowed her cheek over his side. A nauseous rush became a possessive onslaught as she gripped onto the dark navy blue of his Strike uniform with blinding desperation. "Slam the breaks on this ride ..." she breathlessly screamed in demanding cadence, as her disheveled tresses whip-lashed her elfish features. "Now!"
Steve held his composure despite the roaring wind and Selina's angry screams coming at him. He felt the droid begin to course-correct itself heading towards a lower altitude. Steve knew they had to let go before eyes caught onto them down below. As they passed over the top of an inner wall, Steve released his hold on the droid. Still holding Selina in his arms, he swerved their positions, putting her on top of him with his back headed straight for the surface. They landed with a clank. The vibranium shield on his back having absorbed the impact and broken their fall with minimal damage. Steve nevertheless groaned as Selina stood over him, looking down at him with a frightening glare behind her domino mask. "Had to improvise. We should be clear to-"
"I'm done playing around..." Selina hissed bitingly in vehement cadence, as her guarded poise became aggressively defensive against the miasmic reek of carious ooze leaking out of dissected skeletal forms that were discarded around to become harvested out by toad-faced blobs of hulking pudginess that were bulbously exuding a tarry sheen of viscous slime-obstructing the rocky crag environs of the monolith fortress' external barriers.
Feigning a rapt grimace of evident disgust over lush crimson of her full-bow lips, unflinchingly Selina quashed down the urge to vomit, as heatedly glared down at two sentinel droids remaining motionless to detect intruders. "If you want to stop curbing fun, I suggest a little target practice, Rogers..." she coaxingly played out, hastily gesturing a gloved hand at the unmoving droids. "Just pretend it's Starks' haywire-terminating bot of mass genocide...Should be easy to imagine that?"
"Can't argue with that," Steve reacted with honed experience as he leapfrogged into the air with his shield held high and bashed the surveillance optics of one of the droids that was moments away from focusing on them. His body twirled under the momentum like a whirlwind that let loose a storm of physical devastation. His shield was sent sailing, its trajectory causing it to land against the wall before bouncing off in a geometrical angle that led to it sawing another two droids in half. Selina's gunfire rang out beside him. The two of them worked in tandem to take out any defense bots being unleashed due to their tresspass. "I see a door up ahead," he yelled after smashing another bot amidst a shower of sparks. The two of them raced ahead down a dark and dank corridor that smelled like oil. The door up ahead opened and out emerged a duo of Lem sentries armed with what could only be deduced as grenade launchers. "Get behind me!" Steve yelled.
The sonorous command of his deep-timbre pitch urgently made Selina react; in fluid-balletic graces of her stiletto heels, lithely she eased into a half-crouch, tactfully reloading a cartilage pack into her clutched Glock, as haloing sconces of oil lamps flitted over her dampened, tousled mahogany whorls. They had breached a smuggling hive, as the odorous reek of tyrannical filth became malodorously potent in the combative wake of their intrusion. Flexing her delicate jaw into a vicious clench, she gritted her teeth, squeezing off another kill-shot of thieving precision. The Lem sentries were arsenals of destabilizing capture-not for partying with. "Is this how you always make an entrance..." she teased, jauntily over the successive dissonance of hailing staccatos of rapid cover fire; greenish haze -alien blood-misted over them. "Or are you just showing off?"
"I'd ask you the same question," Steve responded with a good-natured smile. For some reason, he found Selina's serious attitude mixed with her teasing tendency to be a refreshing mixture that almost reminded him of a certain redhead. The smile on his face became airy as they finished off the last number of guards, leaving them in a cold silence. The bodies scattered around them numbered nearly a dozen. Aliens that were by all indications, stronger and better equipped than them. Steve didn't know how many mercenaries occupied the base, but these couldn't be Ravagers who he had come to know operated with a code of honor of sorts. These were kidnappers, thugs. "We need to find them before more come our way." Steve searched the body of one of the sentries and found what looked to be a gauntlet of sorts that was programmed to open the doors. He grimaced as he squeezed his hand through the metal until it fit around his forearm. Steve watched as Selina searched the bodies of the others, watching as she pocketed a few gold coins and knives. He stared at her blankly. "Really, right now?"
Underneath disheveled his blonde tresses, the hawkish coolness of his silvery azure irises held knifing heat of unbeatable valor, clashingly with a deviant quirk playing over her voluminous lips, as she remained crouched near the sentry's bullet-riddled corpse in a thievish variance of her indifferent caliber, not wavering her roguish poise, against the rancid stench wafting off the hulking alien; Selina brazenly lifted up Xandarian coin out of a blood-soaked pouch. "Always have something to trade in hand..." she ruefully hissed, swiping off more coins."If these space pirates speak my language, it will be an easy slide for us..."
Steve rolled his eyes, somehow finding himself agreeing with her logic even if he didn't like looting from a dead body. "Let's go." He said, lifting his shield and taking point down the hall. Maintenance lights illuminated the path, leading them towards the elevator at the end of the hall. Steve raised the crude gauntlet on his arm and watched as the scanner identified him as a sentry. The doors to the elevator opened and Steve for a moment felt a small sense of unease as he stood at the doors while Selina sauntered inside, oblivious to his unease until she saw him still standing there. He had bad experiences with elevators. Seeing her arch an eyebrow at him he shrugged as he made his way in. Once they were in, Steve stared at the panel of weird buttons. How was it that alien technology could be so similar yet confusing all the same. He resolved to hit the button near the bottom and the doors closed, leaving the two Earthlings to stand in tense silence.
"I'd ask how you're taking all this, but something tells me this isn't the weirdest scenario you've ever been in?" Steve asked her, having heard about some of her exploits in Gotham City.
Unblinkingly saddling him down with a trenchant glare of her dark irises, with distractive ease Selina guardingly braced the curvaceous litheness of her neoprene-garb back against the elevators grated metal door, she incredulously caught a haunting glimpse of a Kree armada vessel within a scrap heap-a junker husk that verminous scavengers rapaciously dissected to sell in trader sectors-a calamitous extension of galactic despotism-gluttonous spawn of Ronan the Accuser. The rabid scum of the felled Kree empire was a barbarous legion of rogue-vulturous scavengers, hiding from Xandar's galactic centurion-warriors of justice: the Nova Corps.
"Yeah," she rasped under breath, sardonically terseness edged in her raspy undertone, while Steve enforced vigilance in his adamant stance as deafening klaxons blaringly amplified in crescendoing tempo-another hailstorm of sensory droids were mobilizing to obstruct them in a strike zone. "Never a dull moment when you're crashing a party..." she deadpanned, readily arcing the Glock with controlled reaction. "Ready to make some noise, Soldier boy?"
"Always ready. But not always eager," he said as the elevator began to slow its descent. There didn't have to be a fight, but he knew Bucky and his girlfriend would chime in that it always ended in a fight. A good soldier was always prepared for battle but a good man would never crave it. Steve tensed but mentally focused himself as the doors opened and both he and Selina were greeted to a wide hallway, no more inviting than the one they came from. Dark, dank, with flickering lights in need of repair. But that didn't catch their attention. What did was the single Kree guardsman standing in front of a massive blast-door. The guardsman himself was massive for a Kree, a mountain of muscle and fat with grisly scars decorating a tattooed face. The guardsman blinked at their unexpected arrival. Before he could raise his gauntlet to raise the alarm, Steve's shield sailed through the air and impaled itself into the guardsman's forearm. It did little more than confuse the tall guardsman, but a gunshot to his head exploded a mass of blue viscera all over the wall.
Steve looked at Selina as she nonchalantly holstered her weapon.
"Not a bad distraction..." Selina breathily quipped in a scathing undertone, under the slits of her domino mask, her brandy-tigerish irises heatedly flashed murderous rawness that banked in her veins, glaring down a viscous glob of Kree blood freakishly melding near her leather boot, as the ogrish sentry flailed sluggishly in a defensive strain as breathless gasps choked out pudginess of his slacken throat. Against the sulfurous murkiness, the alloy-fused vibranium of Steve's legendary-patriotic shield ethereally glinted like a beacon-conductor of hope. In a blinding rush of headlong adrenaline, painstakingly Selina angled her carbon-steel Glock to deliver point-blank accuracy as the discharged bullet cuttingly razored into the repulsive fleshiness of his protruding torso, as the vaporous stench of mucus-slime putridly enwreathed through the raided chamber. "Just when it couldn't get any more unpleasant in here..."
"They can't be far. These subterranean levels look like a cell-block." Steve observed, staring at the grim sight of a withered corpse on the opposite side of a force-field room. The dead prisoner was male, Xandarian perhaps due to his fine clothes. If he had to guess, it was probably a hostage they kidnapped and left to rot when they didn't receive a ransom. Clenching his jaw, Steve marched towards the security check-point and rammed his shield into the mechanism. The door opened and they were hit with a nauseating stench that nearly made them lose their stomachs. Steve had to close his eyes to prevent them from watering due to the repugnant stench of fesses, sewage, and something decaying. "Ugh...Try to breathe through your mouth." Steve mumbled to Selina as he covered the lower part of his face with his hand. It took great effort for him not to heave and lose his lunch, but as he listened to his partner cough and gasp, he knew he wasn't the only one in disgust.
With collective precision on her razor-edged stiletto heels, that was stylized to her brazen tact, frustratingly, Selina brandished a pinch of repulsion evident to a scathing hiss that ghosted out of plushness of her full-bow lips, against implosive exhaustion feverishly arresting her riotous -advancing momentum. Bracing a gloved hand over a metal latch, high-intensity sconces of red strobing lights flittingly haloed over her neoprene-vibranium garb, as kinetic skeins of amethyst defensively electrified with a nano pulse; the disheveled length of her mahogany tresses slickly were askew over the delicate contours of her elvish features as she irrevocably registered a lurid stink miasmically wafting out of drainage vents contorting over them, gloopily. "We need to keep moving, Soldier boy," she urged out in a breathy rasp, questioningly, and steered her dark gaze at disabling sensors rigged to neutralize the detection of an intrusive pace. "They never make a girl's steal easy..."
"Look over there," Steve gestured towards a work-bench ahead beneath a flickering lamp. After he'd grown used to the repugnant stench in these prison levels, he had begun to study their new surroundings. There were numerous holding cells, some force-field generated, others by the crude standard metal bars used on Earth. But what grabbed his attention were the discarded pieces of clothing and equipment littered throughout the area. Some stood out more than others. Such as a carbon fiber stealth suit and a tactical vest. Steve rushed towards the work-bench where, to his alarm and horror, he found Bucky's cybernetic limb resting beneath a work-lamp with a number of tools assembled around it. "Oh my God," Steve whispered, fear sinking in as towards what this could mean. Natasha's widowbites were also on the work-bench along with SHIELD issued-sidearms and throwing knives. His friends had not just been stripped of their weapons but also their clothing. "Buck? Nat?!" Steve couldn't help but call out, uncaring that it could compromise their location. They needed to know that they were here somewhere...alive.
Narrowing vicious intensity of her shadowed coffee irises, in blurring momentum of a cobra thrust, Selina propelled desperate traction, colliding against the workbench in succession of bruising pressure racked in her veins, crouched on her quaking hunches, in a cautious flex of errant poise, Selina splayed her leathered palm shakily over the graphite-alloy plating of Wakandain forged vibrainum that was elementally adorned with golden skeins as she dared a gaze unblinkingly down at bloodied smears disturbingly crusted on the bionic arm's rotator cuff, a soul-paralyzing revelation that had impaled a knifing throb with screwdriver force through her heart."Buck-" she choked out a shivery breath, the huskiness of her undertone was betrayingly threaded into a voiceless heave, as she dragged a lithe finger over damning traces of her beast machines' harvested blood."No..."
"They have to be here somewhere." Steve said, trying desperately to keep a focused mind and not succumb to anguish. It wasn't working. Even as he looked into all the surrounding cells that had unconscious aliens inside of them, his anxiety was reaching an all-time high when he found no trace of his friends. "They can't be..." He felt crushed and hollow with the gripping fear that they were too late. That these barbaric aliens had taken his best friend and his lover, and butchered them to a point he was afraid of finding what remained of them. He locked eyes with Selina, seeing the concealed grief in her eyes masked by tears of rage as she clutched the cybernetic limb like a life-line. The realization was just the same to her. Steve blinked away the overwhelming emotion that threatened to engulf him, his gloved hands tightened into indomitable fists that ached to release their frustrations on the guilty party. But before he could allow his emotions to control him, both he and Selina hear a chilling croaking sound that bellowed from somewhere down below.
"RRibeeeevvee!" Steve and Selina locked eyes, their instincts telling them to reach for their weapons in case another colossal threat was about to reveal itself. But nothing did. The possibility that it was just another alien prisoner-made them feel less anxious but that was until the voice called again, "EEEVEEE-it!" Steve glanced at Selina who nodded his unasked question. Something or someone was calling him.
"Where's that coming from?" He said moving down the corridor.
With a hinged variance of unwarranted restraint against the devastative maelstrom of unenviable heartache; as blonde tresses disheveledly clung over his feverish temples, adamantly Steve measured his pace over grated drainage vents, engagingly in the defensive tack of soldier-honed alertness, he braced his shield against the muscled solidity of his Kevlar-garb chest; a vomitous-carrion reek noxiously sailed throughout the obscured prisoner warren.
The froggish cadence eerily bellowed a warning pitch- a feverous pinch of tense determination etched tellingly over the hawkish planes of his rugged features, keeping himself stoically motionless in a greenish contrast of dimmed light, the flash in the rawness of his cool azure irises became stormily fixed on Selina as she fleetingly pivoted on her stilettoes in balletic grace, not breaking stance as she effortlessly leveled the Glock in direction of murky tunnel. "The noise gets creepier down there..." she gritted under a strain of breath, tersely. "So who goes in first...?"
He wasn't afraid of the dark. He'd seen enough horrors in his life to make the blackness a welcome veil. The darkness could offer a blanket of security for those who needed to hide from the true horrors that moved in plain light. But for James Buchanan Barnes, the darkness protected him from himself. From the grim awful reality that his entire existence had been perverted and remade into something unthinkable. The nauseating stench of his own slimy skin and the sewage water he was forced to lay in had long become a constant discomfort that he'd long grown used to. The gargantuan reptilian shape of his new body was something that was harder to get used to, but the darkness that shrouded his visage made things easier.
For both him and his unlikely partner. Natasha was quiet, like him. Processing their taxing ordeal in the best way she knew how which was by keeping to herself. They were two damaged souls hunkering in the same crappy boat. But they kept themselves aloft with an inner-strength that was the memory of those they loved and fought for. For so long the thought of Selina and Steve kept them going, kept them thinking and processing of ways to get out of their predicament.
And then on one unexpected day, that strength evaporated and turned into fear the moment he heard those voices calling out to him. "S-Steve? L-Lina?" He croaked, feeling the water shift around him as his companion moved in the darkness near him.
Against the sluggish drag of her bulbous mass, with a painstaking strain of her stubbed webbed foot, instinctively reacting to the guttural croaking of her amphibious bunkmate, Natasha utilized an eroded drainage grate to brace the swelled globby rotundness of her blubbery girth as a protrusive layer of her outstretched throat rapted. "You know, I'm pretty sure they're not giving up on us, Barnes..." she rasped froggily in hushed pitch, as nauseatic mucus oozily leaked over her clammy flesh; shifting the bulging largeness of her mutative form she registered the despondent pulse of Bucky's laden-implosive heartache, reassuringly she nudged her pudgy snout against blobby layers of his tensing back. Unsurprisingly while not attempting to move a generous inch, Bucky emitted a scathing groan as he brandished an impassive semblance, as the paunchy expanse of his ballooned-out girth droopily swelled against throaty croaking-nothing would stave down.
They were both morphic-expandable captives of repulsive throes- fattening oblivion of being massively devolved into hideous salientian-froggy visages to become transported to the celestial head of Know-where-a freakishly idiosyncratic collector would store them in his galactic terrarium of exceptional space creatures for his morbid gain. Time of escaping the alien sludge heap was measured on trigger-wire before another infusion would make their changes-irreversible.
Nakedly, as Bucky allowed the damning reality to heartbreakingly tow him back into a boggy tunnel, dewy wetness of unshed anguish bleared his reptilian depths of silvery aquamarine, Natasha felt his Brooklyn resilence ebbing against the dismal stupor was he grappled into-he needed to hit back. "U nas mozhet byt' nichego zdes', no zdes' u nas yest' ... Vse. (We might have nothing in here, but out there we got...Everything.)"
"Vot o chem ya bespokoyus' (That's what i'm worried about)." He croaked. The fact that Steve and Selina had come here looking for them meant that they were both in-danger. If Ajax found out about them, he'd sicc his goons and monsters after them, turning them into blood-sport in his arena or worst, subjecting them to the same horrors both he and Natasha endured. "As long as they're here, they're in danger." Despite how much it pained him, Bucky knew he would have to endure stepping into the light shining down into the pit. He squared himself and gave a bouncing leap forward, trying not to be too sudden as to alarm anyone looking down inside. The sewage water splashed and sloshed, causing him to grimace as it splattered onto him. He saw the slimy surface of his reptilian skin and grimaced at the indignity he felt over what he'd become.
"I think there's someone down there," The voices above became clearer, as Bucky could hear Steve shuffling forward towards the edge of the pit. "Hello? Anyone hear me?" Bucky took deep breaths and began to trudge forward. It wasn't easy when he was missing one arm. The transformation was organic, not cybernetic. The junkers were all to happy to steal away his vital appendage to try and see what made it tick before selling it off. "Hello?" Steve called down again. Bucky could see his shadow in the water. He stands fully in the light and then raises his beady black eyes up.
"I hear ya, Steve. Try not to be too shocked, punk. I know M' not lookin' my best." He tried to sound candor and upbeat. It was an attitude Steve would be familiar with so he wouldn't think he was being tricked or hearing things. But instead, Bucky sounded like a croaking mess with his words barely being decipherable to human ears. Up above he could see Steve looking down at him with a bewildered look, you'd think he'd had his first kiss and he was frozen in shock.
"That really you, Buck?" Steve managed to say after a minute of shocked silence passed. "What the hell happened, man?"
A heart-knifing crescendo thumpingly deafened in her veins, flipping her sleek-curved goggles up, Selina clutched the metal bars, in urgent flexion; against the onrushing surge of feverish wetness mistily blurring his vision, Steve crouched readily low on his Kevlar-clad hunches and splayed his threadbare leather-gloved hand deftly over the vent as the froggish resonance amplified in tensing pitch.
Keeping herself a breadth from the latch opening, the malodorous reek of oozing mucus slicking over amphibian flesh stinkily encompassed the occupied pit as Selina flitted naked rawness of her shadowed brandy irises down at the lumpish, froglike mass below them. Gasping a deadened rasp, breathlessly she reeled back in a phantom variance akin to cool smoke; remaining impassive against the eruptive throb raiding through her heart. "I-It's a damn trick..." She gritted out a hiss, stingingly, refusing not to foster onto the deceptive chimera that rabid galactic traffickers fashioned to lure-flesh Terran blood. Leveling the Glock with murderous precision at the disgusting blubbery heap of fattened slime, thievingly she conveyed no wavering hesitance of vestigial mercy in her pulse-gripping clutch. "Whatever that damn thing is posing as...It's not Bucky."
"Selina!" Steve only just then remembered he wasn't alone down here. Finding Bucky in the state he was in had put him in deep shock so much he was finally snapped out of it when Selina had drawn her gun and aimed it at the frog-shaped creature that Bucky had become. "Its him." He urged her, standing between her and the monstrous frog who didn't react to her show of hostility. "Put it down." Steve held his hand up, urging her to lower her Glock while she glared with barely concealed emotion behind her domino-mask. He didn't want to believe this was all happening too. The pain in his heart-doubled when he thought of what this might mean for Natasha.
"Lina..." The pain Bucky hoped he wouldn't feel suddenly became too real when Selina had come into view, visibly distraught by what she now saw him is. She thought he was a monster-a thing. He didn't blame her at all as each and every day he mourned the fact he no longer looked like James Buchanan Barnes. He'd become Kermit the Frog's grumpy fat cousin. "I'm sorry, darlin'. Guess I shouldn't have tried to be a hero." He croaked, wondering how things might have turned out if he hadn't stowed aboard the mercenary ship that brought him here.
Registering the gravelly croakiness of his threadier-froggish drawl; against the possessive intensity lethally stemming into rampageous-contractive fury became lashingly eruptive in a destructive reaction as Selina lashingly whipped the Glock against a metallic paneled wall. The dissembling pieces of her razored ferocity hailed through the vent's bars in a heart-jolting wake, as she collapsed on her knees sobbingly in the soul-racking wake of infective anguish. A blearing onrush of heated wetness trekked over her cheeks, she dragged her shivery lips with bruising pressure over torn leather of her quaking knuckles as feverish chokes of breath suffocatingly pierced her throat. "I-It can't be him..."
Bucky felt as if his heart was being cleaved in half as he listened to his kitten breakdown and release her anguish. He ached to reach out and console her, to envelop her in his arms as he often did in their quiet moments. But he felt so far away, he couldn't even form words to say despite how much he wanted to say something that would offer comfort. Instead, he croaked in the dimness of his cell, a tear slipping past his beady eyes.
Steve did the only thing that felt appropriate and that was put his hand on top of Selina's shoulder, offering her minimal reassurance that things would be okay. But he wasn't so sure if they would be. His thoughts were side-tracked by the absence of another of their group. "Buck...Where's Nat?" He was almost afraid to ask, wondering if she had been spared this fate or subjected to something worse.
A stark rush of unbidden heartache became stealingly arrestive like a vein-shunting paralytic; Natasha crouched low on her pudgy webbed feet against the unendurable murkiness of her imprisoned domain, greenish casts of light ghoulishly haloed over her pudgier-froggy comrade. Motionlessly, Bucky slumped his tubbier mass against a drainage pipe, a rapt grimace force his puckered snout to jut out sulkily as tarry sludge unremittingly glozed over him-mutative dregs of their parasitical reality had surgically exorcised out his Brooklyn spirit. He was the damnable fringe of abandoning the inexorable fight. "We're nothin' to em' to now, Tasha..." he slurred croakily in dismal pitch, against a soul-lancing throb. "Not even worth a fight..."
Bolstering herself with controlled nonchalance, as Steve's imposing shadow eclipsed the bars, unblinkingly Natasha glanced up with a daring flash of her gluey-teal orbs, blearily mirroring Steve's azure irises that stormily echoed unshakeable-electrified valiance of battle-tested determination incarnate- an unbridled reckoning for their chastened humanity. "S-Steve..." The raspiness of her croaking tenor was bloatedly gargled as she answered his railed-out urgency. "You need to leave...Barnes and I have fixed price on us, don't play this game..."
Nat…" Steve was torn by conflicting emotions as he heard that familiar voice call up to him. He felt relief that Natasha was still alive, but also sorrow that she hadn't fared any better than Bucky and was now being held like some monstrous prisoner. He also felt pain, and righteous anger, causing his hands to ball into fists at his sides. "Nobody gets left behind. You know that. And I'm not leaving either of you." It was driven, passionate. It was all he could spew without letting his emotions get the better of him. He also understood Natasha held the same principles. They would have much to talk about once they got out of here. "Is there anything you can tell us about how they did this to you?"
"Ajax." Bucky cut in with an edge to his voice. "They call him Ajax."
Steve exchanged a look with Selina who had a dangerous fire in her eyes. "Who is he?"
The unhinged measure of rigged desperation of Steve's deep-timbre joltingly revamped a phantom chill against the mucus-coated flabbiness of her abdominous form; Natasha felt Kree entity's sanguineous aura demonically clash with the barbaric-sludgy ambiance that prevalently encompassed them. With forced momentum that was a variance of stealth-honed resilence, she wobbled heavily breadth closer to Bucky, defensive tension became clashingly ignitable as slime viscidly sheathed over the hulking mass of their swelled-out girths.
Brandishing an effective charade of temperate restraint, Natasha croaked out in a rueful hitch, convincingly. "We're dealing with a Kree radical with hardware that mutates prisoners into something like us..." she whispery rasped as Bucky's shadowed aquamarine orbs cuttingly slit with razoring heat of knife-point intensity, teemingly urging her to stake down a rampant warning. "You can't turn your back on him, Steve..."
"Don't think for a second I'll play nice with this alien freak-" A snarling cadence was hissingly eruptive against the scummy darkness of the labyrinth barracks, tigerishly Selina gritted her teeth; raw vehemence suffused in her veins in reactive tenor and with a thievish swipe of her gloved hand in a blinding flex, she viciously clutched a crescent-edged spear of Kree weaponry that was conveniently discarded over an exsiccated husk of skeletal arthropodal remains of a harvested insectoid Sakaaran--it was an execution pit stack-up corpses of traitorous Kree defilers that were once loyal to Ronan the Accuser. "Soldier boy ...Here..." she urged out, fervently, reversing the spear's arced edge as she unerringly tossed it to Steve's opened-hand grip. "Use this to open the grate..."
Steve caught the spear and fell back into soldier-mode. His greater instincts told him that something was off about all of this and they needed more intel before making any drastic plays. But he had no idea what Ajax had in store for his friends and he had no intention of leaving them down there trapped like the animals they'd been turned into. But before he could try to pry the bars open with his immense strength, he and Selina feel thundering vibrations in the floor coming at them from all corners of the level. "I think we're about to get company." And that was when numerous exhaust ports were opened and a vicious gas began to blast into their area. It hit them sudden and fast, Steve and Selina had little-to-no time to try and mask themselves before they began to feel groggy.
"Tear gas." Steve mumbled, shaking his head and grimacing as his enhanced constitution fought to flush out the substance that was threatening to render him unconscious. Selina coughed and shrank back, searching for a door or an air-pocket to safely breathe. In the pit, he could hear loud booming croaks coming from Bucky and Natasha who by now, no doubt realized what was happening to them up above.
"Get out of here, Selina! Steve!" Bucky tried in vain to climb up the wall leading up to the grate, but his mass made it difficult to climb up more than a few feet.
Her feline-honed resistance felt devouringly amputated, the vaporific smogginess of the immobilizing-noxious fumes became exceedingly like cold rust in her throat; the belching resonance of Bucky's croaky-frantic utterance vertiginously deafened against the neasous-suffusive onslaught that penetrated bone-deep with an infectious rush of nerve- paralyzing strain.
The amethyst nanites that interweaved kinetic skeins of her black neoprene garb became stunningly defective against the weaponized haze injecting through drainage conduits. Heaving out a choking breath, with defensive assuage, Selina blurringly hammer-thrust her gloved hand up, as she clutched onto a dented pipe, her deadening momentum became arrested by the parasitic reek encompassing tunnel-like barracks.
Grungily against the crippling assault, her mahogany tresses slashed damply askew over her fevered cheeks, while the hazed blankness of her coffee irises dizzyingly caught Steve reactively frisbee-tossing his vibranium shield in a blinding precision as it metallically ricocheted off a decorative wall of skeletal-monstrous arthropods harvested out of Know-Where fluid pools that were morbidly embedded as distorted trophies. "S-Steve-" she choked in raw pitch, gratingly, as paralytic ether chased her pulse in an exhaustive-vomitous wake. Across from her, gnashing his teeth, forcibly Steve braced his muscled shoulders against the railing, heavy-corded bulk under his tactical kevlar grew revealingly tauter as he collapsed on his knees with disarmed traction-grub-like Sakaaran guard fashioned with cybernetic blades as forelimbs rabidly caught the shield in mid-air neutralizing their measures of tactical defense. They were prisoners. "G-Get Bucky out..."
The gas was suffocating and made it difficult for Steve to see beyond the plumes of smoke that encompassed the cellblock. His determination wouldn't let him succumb to the pull against his consciousness. The irrepressible urge to close his eyes and fall into defeat. He heard a crash nearby and knew that Selina had passed out. Steve rammed the spear between the bars and began to apply every ounce of strength in his body. His sweaty complexion was enhanced by the gritting exertion on his face. The bars began to groan and bend. Below he could see Bucky trying desperately to climb his way out to reach him. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. The sweat trickling into his vision didn't make things easier. He wouldn't stop, even as he felt himself involuntarily drop to one knee, he kept prying open the gate. "B-Buck...Nat..." He panted. His vision blurred and all sound stop, but he could make out a door opening and a dozen mercenaries pouring into the cell-block. Their guns were aimed at him but no one fired. A few made way for a single blurry shape to walk towards him.
"A-Ajax..." He passed out on the floor just as the Kree crimelord stood over him with a thoughtful as he observed just how strong this Terran was. Maybe he and his friend would be useful.
A vacuous defeat was mephitically fringing, nothing warded off against nauseous tension razing through her. A frequency of resistance had deafened out, blearily, against her lashes flitted on conscious-instinctive accord, burningly Selina felt clamping pressure of destabilizing bracer gauntlets secured on her wrists, a deadened pulse throbbingly synced with an energy cable that veined into a begrimed wall, smeared treks of Kree blood were vomitous sigils of executed oppressors -the installation of Ronan's spawning Accusers ushered butcherous planet-reaping massacres of terror storms when Kree warships condemningly eclipsed over targeted planetoids that were under the galactic protection of Nova Corps.
A metallic skeletal droid had been activated outside the electro-rigged bars, laser-red optics scanned creepily over the backlit cell, isolating thermal pulses of her body heat. Sickeningly registering a mordacious fume of rancid sludge; a viscous ooze of leeched out of hollowed-out Kree skull that was barbarously impaled on a corroded spike, used for a lucid warning-not to cross the Terran-mutating warlord-Ajax. The chimeric reality induced an unbidden wake of bone-shunting heartache; Bucky was in the captive-bloating dregs of punishingly being a hideous -blubbered frog.
Reactively, a featherlight brush of masculine -phantom-heat errantly traced over sleek-athletic curvatures of her vibrainum garbed shoulder in flexing tenor, as she registered corded bands of muscle heavily sagging against her. "S-Steve..." she murmured out in a rasped- pitch, thinly, as the cotton-blurriness of her gaze feverishly wavered on the bluish aura grippingly emanating from the appended cable, every measured pulse was leeching out their warring strength. "S-Soldier Boy...?"
Steve teetered on the brink of consciousness, phasing in and out of the darkness as if he were below water. Static rang in his ears and he felt the weight of slumber bear down on him like a ton of bricks. "Selina…" He murmured, groggy and barely managing to hold his eyes open. He felt dizzy, winded as if he were caught in a tail-spin and had just pulled into a leveled position. He was awake, slowly but surely the world sharpened back into focus and he was reminded of the direness of their situation once he saw the electrified bars crackling with sparks. He could feel a weight pressed beside him and turned his head. "You all right?" He asked with a dry throat.
"I'm not sure..." she murmured throatily, flashing a sidelong glance at her valor-hearted cellmate with braced poise, against rushes of fevered heat that bleared her slumberous coffee irises, Selina felt anesthetic drowsiness warding off; quartered pinkish-wormy Sakaaran grubs clung lifelessly over the drainage vents as throat-belching croaks deafeningly erupted in agonized tenor-a demented concerto of robbed humanity.
Under sweat-damp, grungy tresses of blonde errant treks of crimson wetly streaked over the broad, angular planes of Steve's graven-edge, boyish features. Gnashing his teeth, Steve bruisingly tugged the energy cables, harnessing variances of his determined ferocity, against the chasmal darkness of their hot-wired cell, Selina heatedly watched his rigid corded arms tautly strain with urgent-back-knuckled traction, as flexuous pulses exponentially induced a waspish sting through her veins. "S-Stop rattling the damn cage, Rogers..." she hissed, seethingly. "We're rigged up on voltage..."
Against the barrage of tranq-hazed grogginess that immobilized him onto a fringe of sated thrall, blurringly, with a vigilant flex of resilient urgency, Steve attempted to ease his muscled forearm up, tauter corded bulk delineated underneath tactical Kevlar contracted against his braced momentum. Each shift of driven movement sonically reactivated a bone-sloughing pulse of tasering heat. "Y-Yeah, I kinda felt that..." he quipped under ragged breath, unabashedly, as the energy cable squeezed out the reactive strength in his arm crushingly in pythonic succession. "Grah..."
titanically
0 notes
sadkittyworld · 4 years
Text
NS_ Wk 4
Here’s my improved story idea but I still have a long was way to go. This idea is not set in stone.
Mr. Edward Hyde was created for the purpose of Dr. Henry Jekyll’s perverse experiment.
Hyde was 20yrs old when he was created.
Hyde was very beautiful, feminine and tall.
But Hyde was a man of course.
Hyde was selfish, cunning, uncompassionate and remorseless.
Hyde was evil incarnate.
He was inhumane.
Jekyll was 50yrs old when he created Hyde.
Jekyll was handsome, masculine and also tall.
Jekyll had a softer or/ more gentle side to him.
Jekyll was a drug addict.
Hyde was the result of the drug.
Hyde’s eyes were lifeless.
It is almost like he was a puppet controlled by strange thoughts or orders.
Hyde read about Jekyll from his notes.
Hyde did many evil deeds.
Just 3 months after the drug use Hyde had started to come out more frequently even without the help of the drug.
This frightened Jekyll because he now had no control over his transformation.
Hyde had become more violent in the 3-month period.
Hyde killed a public figure, Mr. Amon Chambers.
This was because Mr. Chambers had behaved inappropriately towards Hyde.
Mr. Chambers had been bewitched by Hyde’s beauty.
After this incident Jekyll became paranoid and insane.
He felt guilty about what he had done to Hyde and about unleashing this evil being out in to the open.
Henry decided to take his own life as he couldn’t find another answer to end this madness that he unleashed.
Henry left behind a note for his dear friend and legal adviser stating that he is leaving all his fortune to his loyal servant and butler Poole.
The next morning Poole found Jekyll’s body in his chamber, lying on the floor lifeless.
Poole immediately called (Utterson) Ulysses Hazard informing of what happened to Jekyll.
Ulysses came as fast as he can to the scene.
He read Jekyll’s letter and Will.
Jekyll didn’t say anything about why he has killed himself.
Mr. Hazard was deeply disturbed by Henry’s death.
All who knew Henry Jekyll came to his funeral.
Everyone knew each other except for one person who arrived at the funeral at the last moment.
It was none other than Mr. Edward Hyde.
Everyone who came to the funeral where shocked by the new arrival.
They thought that Edward was Henry’s lover.
They thought that he came to claim Henry’s fortune.
They were wrong.
Hyde’s eyes were not lifeless anymore.
Hyde was in tears.
There was something human about Hyde now that Jekyll had gone from this world.
The guests fought amongst themselves to comfort Hyde.
They were captivated by his beauty, men and women alike.
Seeing the guests fighting over him, Hyde was pleased with his acting skills.
Hyde was more human than before, but he was still the same cold-blooded killer.
Hyde continued to act like the heartbroken lover.
They huddled around him offering their handkerchief and all sorts of things to comfort Hyde.
Even Mr. Hazard, ‘The Doubter’ was in front offering help to Edward.
Ulysses Hazard too was a victim of Hyde’s beauty.
Only Poole, Jekyll’s butler and heir to Jekyll’s fortune wasn’t taken in by Hyde’s beauty.
Poole had his doubts about the origin of Hyde.
However, he didn’t say anything about it to anyone as nobody would’ve listened to him.
Hyde goes to see Poole to give him a letter written to him (Poole) by Jekyll before he died.
In the letter it says to look after Hyde in his absence.
In reality this letter was written by Hyde in Jekyll’s handwriting after his death.
Poole was reluctant at first to accept Hyde but eventually accepted him because the letter was written in Jekyll’s writing.
Everyone returned back to their homes.
So did Hyde and Poole who will now live together.
Hyde earned his trust.
Poole came to like Hyde like a son.
Hyde too had become close with Poole.
Hyde went to Jekyll’s Underground Study to go to his original home and have his things delivered to Jekyll’s home.
Hyde had told his landlady that he will be living at his ‘lover’s’ place from now on.
Landlady was very pleased to have Edward move out even though he had only stayed there for less than a year.
The landlady knew that Hyde was twisted which why she was pleased to hear that he was leaving.
Hyde had all of Jekyll’s knowledge passed onto him.
Hyde used this knowledge and his own research to create a time-machine.
Hyde was successful after 3 years of research.
Hyde didn’t age after the 3 years.
Poole started to become suspicious.
Hyde decided to tell Poole about himself and why didn’t age.
Hyde didn’t age because of the effect of the drug that Jekyll created for the transformation.
Poole was shocked.
Poole kept everything secret.
Poole’s health was deteriorating he was now very old and ill.
Hyde looked after Poole.
Poole died shortly afterwards.
Hyde created a memory erasing potion.
He also mastered Hypnosis.
He used it on everyone who knew him.
They all forgot about the existence of a person named Edward Hyde.
He filled their memory with a nice memory.
Hyde changed his name to Light Wheeler.
He was ready to leave everything behind and become a new person.
This was influenced by him being with Poole for 3 years.
He wanted to learn more about humans which is why he built his time machine.
He went to the crusade. He helped retrieve the Holy Grail. (Holy Grail is a chalice with the blood of Jesus) He was part of the Knights Templar.
He went to the Second World war. This was by accident. He ended up becoming a spy for the British. He was held captive by the Germans who were astounded by his beauty. He managed to escape from the Germans with the help of an infatuated officer. The officer who helped Light (Hyde) also escaped together with him to Britain.
Throughout his journeys Light helps people even though they forget his existence. He became more human, through his journeys as he learned more and more about them. He punishes people who hurt vulnerable people if he sees them.
He meets his other half along his journey to humanity and helping them.
0 notes
ecoamerica · 23 days
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
6K notes · View notes
bigbadwolf619 · 6 years
Text
MRKZ Chapter 2 The Bear And The Wolf
{5 Days before meeting Maxy at the Black Claw Island Base} Black Claw Assassin: {female in black tied up to a tree wakes up} Uuuuh...huh? Where...where am I? Ricky: {sitting on a pile of dead bodies that were Black Claw Assassins while eating a sandwich} Mmm, sometimes when you kill you get really hungry Black Claw Assassin: Grrrgh! {struggles & tries getting out} Ricky: Now be straight with me, what are doing in our house in Vale and also how did where we live, tell me and I promise you won't turn into a human banana peel {takes another bite on the sandwich}...go on Black Claw Assassin: Like I would tell you anything heretic! Ricky: You know you're guy here said that before slit his throat {picks out 1 of the dead assassins waving his hand about} you see? Black Claw Assassin: {looks nervous} I would rather die than tell you anything! Ricky: {sighs as he gets his blade out} Typical femme fatales Black Claw Assassin: That is sexist! Ricky: Well it's what I always encounter in my previous life, though I'm kinda happy you're resisting {grins evily} I have an excuse to go sadistic Black Claw Assassin: S-Sadistic? Ricky: See the Grizzly Huntsman is tough, powerful and owned your Boss before, me I butcher everyone who is an enemy, I love cutting things, and you cute girls make lovely sound each time I slice a bit of skin off each time Black Claw Assassin: {whimpers} Ricky: {cuts a part of her top off revealing her midriff} Especially the navels! {pokes her stomach with his blade} Black Claw Assassin: Stop! We knew where you lived through the G.R.I.M.Ms and Atlas Networks! We found out you and your brother was alive 3 years ago! We tried to pick our moment for revenge unti Lord Ryzen's recovery! Ricky: Ryzen?! Ryzen is dead! Don't lie to me! Black Claw Assassin: Lord Ryzen was resurrected 5 years ago but the damages the Grizzly Huntsman inflicted on him has ceased his regeneration, Lord Ryzen is immortal! Ricky:...So Maxy was right, damn I wish I never said he was paranoid, thanks for the info babe {sheathes his blade} oh and I was bluffing about my sadistic side, I would never damage any sexy navels, even from scum like you Black Claw Assassin: You tricked me?! Ricky: Yep, hehe, when you return to people tell them 2 brothers will kill them all, not 1 Black Claw Assassin: Grrr! Damn you Thunderwolf! Ricky: I'm go hunt down your Generals and help out Max, sayanora {teleports with lightning} Black Claw Assassin: Wait you can't just leave me here! {hears some Grimms coming by}...Oh no... {5 days later in Hawe Village} Mama Laark: Boy you are lucky to be alive, most of those cuts were fatal, why you gotta gamble with death all the time, you wanna leave your Mama behind so badly Maxy: Mama I don't wanna leave you, these guys are just as much of a threat as Salem, just wondering whether they are workin together Ricky: {sitting on a chair leaning} They're not, they're actually hoping she gts what she wants Maxy: Wait if Salem gets those Relics she'll end mankind, the Claw wants to take over Remnant, why would they let her be? Their plans differ Ricky: I don't know but General Tier told me that with Salem's help they'll get what they want Maxy: Tier? You found him? Ricky: And killed him, him and General Schlange Maxy: Schlange as well? How did you know about them? Ricky: I found your board Maxy:...Dude you went in my room? Not cool bro Ricky: Hey I needed to find out the truth ok, I had some doubts on the Claw's comeback, but it's true, Ryzen is back, he's plotting something Mama Laark: Well you boys better be careful Maxy: Mama? Mama Laark: I know you boys well, you fixate on somethin you never let go until it's dealt with {puts her hand on his shoulder} Max you're a Protector and Guardian just like your Pappy, you're strong and determined like him, you were a born a Guardian Maxy: Thanks Mama, I won't dishonour the the family Mama Laark: And you Rick are Guardian, I don't care if you ain't Faunas or blood related, you my baby and that's that, you both guard Remnant from scum like Salem and Ryzen, the Gods are gonna be standin and watchin you boys, they'll guide you Ricky: We won't disappoint you Mama, we'll kill every last 1 of them in the name of the Laarks Mama Laark: Then you have my blessins boys, show them what happens when you unleash the Wrath of Hawe, you brothers stay close and protect each other no matter what, don't you dare think about dyin out there Maxy: We won't Mama, it'll be their graves you'll see soon Mama Laarks: And it won't be cheap gravestones either I hope {in Maxy's room} Maxy: {checks his door} Man you broke my lock? Ricky: The window was caged, so I used our mini bomb gadget from G.R.I.M.Ms for the door Maxy: Dammit Rick, you use them like toys Ricky: Speak for yourself Mr Yang-Cam Maxy:...How'd you know about that? Ricky: I know a lot of things Max, nothing escapes these ears Maxy: Shut up man {looks at his board of Black Claw Targets} So I've just killed General Bär- Ricky: And I got General Tier and Schlange Maxy: So that's 3 Claw Generals, but how many more is there? Ricky: Well thanks to a informant I got info saying there are 2 left General Hund and Katze, although we don't exactly know who General Katze is, we do know of Hund Maxy: Really? What do you know? Ricky: Well you know that Garrison outside of Hawe? The 1 leading is General Hund, he's currently trying track me down and he's hoping to ambush you on your comeback Maxy: Meaning he doesn't know I'm back in Hawe, he won't expect me Ricky: You wanna go get him him now? Maxy: The sooner the better, then we can start searching for Katze Ricky: Cool, I'll go scout ahead {walks off} Maxy: How's Kalista? Ricky: {stops}...We...broke up Maxy: What? Why?...Oh is it because of the Captain? Ricky: Partially, I mean he would rip out my spine if anything happen to her but...she was the 1 for me, 1 and only Maxy: Then why did you give her up? Ricky: I nearly lost her at Beacon, I nearly lost my mind, it doesn't matter what her Dad thinks, if I lost her I'd break, I love her so much, I've never felt like this even in my previous life, being a killer and assassin took many emotions out of me, stopped me being a human and more of a monster, but she...made me feel human again, that is why I can't be with her, I don't want to endanger her ever again, I can't protect, I'm only good at killing, I'm no Protector like you Max, much as I want to be Maxy: Hm, you are Protector Rick, after all I'm still here thanks to you, plus you made sure Mama Laark was safe, you may not feel it now Rick, but soon you'll realize {taps his back} Now come on, we got a dog to kill Ricky: Right, err you mind opening the window? Maxy: Can't you use a door like a normal person? Ricky:... Maxy:...{sighs as puts a code in his scroll that opens the window cage} Ricky: Thanks bro {leaps out & teleports} Maxy: Hm {picks up his Staff & puts it on his back then slowly picks up a picture of MRKZ at Beacon}...Kali...Zal, sorry for bringing you guys into this {puts it down & walks off} {at An Atlas Garrison} Maxy: {top of a hill overlooking the Garrison} Hmm Ironwood stopped the Garrison system a long time ago Ricky: Yet there's 1 right next to Hawe {passes the binoculars} look over there Maxy: {looks with the binoculars} Aww man Ricky: Those are the successors of the Paladins, they're the new Valkyrie Units, they're a lot more agile and they can fly, the leader is manned while the others run by an A.I Maxy: How man "Atlas" Soldiers are here Ricky: 24, there are 3 Ursas and a pack of Beowolfs in cages, we could use them for a distraction, as for the Valkyries, I'm not sure, their detection is too good even I had time trying to avoid their crosshairs Maxy: Hmm and where's Hund? Ricky: Couldn't find him, but my informant says he should be here Maxy: Hmm, than that means he's in the manned Valkyrie, that's our target Ricky: What about the other Valkyries? Maxy: If they're run by an A.I then there's no doubt there is an airship running them, Rick you find that Airship and take it down, I'll release the Grimm on the troops Ricky: Got it {puts his mask on} good luck killing Hund {teleports} Maxy: Hm, you wait Hund, you'll be joining the other 3 soon {leaps off disappearing} {on the Atlas Airship} Fake Atlas Soldier: {walks through a corridor}...Hmm? {looks around}...Must be my imagination {turns around} Ricky: I get that a lot {grabs him & flips him to the ground putting his knee on his back while locking his arm behind him & holds a blade to his neck} Fake Atlas Soldier: Gaaargh! What are you- Ricky: {whispers} Ssshhh, I'll cut your throat open {checks the tattoo on his neck} Well-Well, you guys are really coming out of your comfort zones aren't you? Fake Atlas Soldier: I don't know what you are talking about Ricky: Come on, your tattoo is from the Claw dumbass, don't play me Fake Atlas Soldier:...Hm, you damn heathens will die soon Ricky: Hm cute, never heard that 1 before {stabs his neck covering his mouth} Fake Atlas Soldier: Mmgh! Mmgh...{drops} Ricky: {inspects his body & pulls out his scroll} Bingo {takes a picture of him with his scroll & then his outfit uses a hologram mimicking the fake agent} Thank you G.R.I.M.Ms {walks off hiding the body} {back at the Garrison} Maxy: {sneaks in the bushes speaking quietly} Come on Rick, take down that ship already General Hund: {in a Valkyrie} Any news on the Laarks? Lord Ryzen demands a report! Maxy: Oh we're here, you'll know soon enough {dashes to a Fake Atlas Soldier fast behind a tree snapping his neck} Valkyrie Unit 01: {detects movement speaking in a feminine voice} Unknown movement detected, searching {moves near the tree} Maxy: {hiding} Damn {pulls up the soldier & leans him out the tree} Valkyrie Unit 01: Friendly detected, resuming guard mode {walks off} Maxy: Heh {sneaks off stealthily taking out other soldiers} {in the Airship} Ricky: {walks into the control room} Jackpot, now where are the controls? {more soldiers were roaming around} Ricky: {walks past them pretending to be 1 of them} Ah geez, new model {pulls out his scroll} wonder if I can still hack it? {tries to use the hacking app}...ah screw it {leaves a bomb underneathe it} Hey you know where the bathroom is? Fake Atlas Soldier: Ugh, damn newbies, go down the corridor 2nd right, you can't miss it Ricky: Thanks buddy {walks off} Fake Atlas Soldier: Don't get lost...idiot {at the Garrison} Valkyrie Unit 02: Warning, unknown substance detected, scanning for possible harm Maxy: {hiding behind a cage} Heh, oh don't worry, it's harmful more than you think tin can Valkyrie Unit 02: Warning, system malfunctionzzzzzzzzeeebeezzzzz! {goes berserk} Maxy: {holds up a pen that had a substance in it for machines to go haywire} Gods praise the future Valkyrie Unit 03: Valkyrie Unit 02 has defected General Hund: Huh?! Take it down! Valkyrie Units: {blasts down the berserk Unit} Maxy: {dashes & breaks the cages of the Grimms} Fake Atlas Soldiers: Wha-what?! Grimms: GRRRRR! {all start attacking} Fake Atlas Soldiers: Gaaaaargh! General Hund: All units! Take down the subjects! {suddenly the airship blows up in the sky} Maxy: Heh, nicely done Rick Valkyrie Units: {all shut down & fall} General Hund: Huh?! What is going on?! Maxy: {walks out of hiding} What do you think General? General Hund: Laark...when did you comeback? Maxy: Yesterday actually, unfortunately for you my brother can teleport around Remnant easily General Hund: Curses...well even so, I am in a new type of mech you can't beat Maxy: It's no Paladin Angelica that's for sure General Hund: Grrr, for Lord Ryzen I will bring him your head! Maxy: That's ok! I'll send him yours! {pulls out his Staff spinning then goes in a stance} General Hund: Laaaaark! {fires the huge beam cannons from the Valkyrie} Maxy: {leaps away & bounces from many trees like a pinball dodging the shots} General Hund: {locks on him & fires many missiles} Dodge this! Maxy: Heh, don't need to! {goes in an open stance as his body flashes yellow} Come on! {all the missiles hit him but bounce away blowing up everything around him} General Hund: Grrrrr! {right hand summons an energy blade} Time to die Laark! Maxy: After you! {bounces fast towards him} Haaaaaar! General Hund: {flies towards him about to strike} Rrrraaaaaaar! {clashes blades with him} Rrrrr! Maxy: Grrrrgh! {struggles getting pushed back slowly} General Hund: You do not stand a chance! Maxy: Grrrrgh...{grins} Oh really? {eyes go black & yellow} Rrrrr! {starts pushing back} General Hund: Grrgh! What?! Maxy: You should have learned from your Boss's death, even in a toaster you can't beat me! {deflects him off} General Hund: {flies in the air} We'll see {starts firing a laser chaingun at him} Maxy: Huur! {stabs the ground as he summons dome kinetic forcefield around him with his Staff deflecting the shots} General Hund: Grrr! Just die already! {dives down with his blade} Rrraaar! Maxy: {smirks as he instantly dodges side} General Hund: Grrr! {tries to strike him rapidly} Maxy: {instantly dodges each of his strikes without much effort looking like he isn't moving much} General Hund: Grrr! Hold still you little rat! Maxy: Correction {eye flashes as he instantly cuts his blade arm off} I'm a bear General Hund: Grrgh! Dammit! Maxy: {disappears} General Hund: Grrr! {gets out his cannon} Come on out Laark! {his other arm gets cut off instantly} Wha?! {leg gets instantly cut off} Waaaaah! {trips & tries flying off} You! Maxy: {leaps on his back} Grrrrrr! {grips his wings} General Hund: W-What are doing?! Stop! Maxy: Rrrrrrrr! {teeth sharpen as he his muscles tense} Rrrrrrraaaaaaaar! {tears off his wings} General Hund: Why you-waaaaah! {falls on his back} Aargh! Maxy: {lands on him & starts cutting into the door repeatedly with his staff} Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr! General Hund: No-No-Nooooooo! Maxy: {breaks open the pilot door} Grrrrr! Here's Maxy! General Hund: {gasps} Maxy: {stabs him as he squeeze the Staff's trigger & causes a kinetic explosion within the Valkyrie} {in dark & smokey realm} Maxy: What the? Where am I? General Hund: {standing behind him} You Maxy: Where are we? General Hund: This is how we survive the centuries, when we are killed we transfer our soul to the nearest person, since you were the 1 to kill me I transferred my soul to your body! Now it will be mine! Maxy: Grrrr! You'll never have my body! You've cheated death but this time you won't comeback! General Hund: Too late for that Laark! At least you will joining your old squad soon {appears bigger & shadowy} this is the power the Claw possesses, not even Salem can pull this off! Maxy: Well there's a 1st time for everything {big yellow Ursa appears behind him} your mistake was trying to take over me General Hund: {gasps} Giant Ursa: RRRRRRRRR! {lunges at him chewing & ripping him apart} General Hund: Waaah! Waaaaaaaargh! Maxy: When you see the God of Destruction, tell him Maxy Laark sent you to his realm! {back to reality} Maxy: Hm, have fun in the underworld Ricky: {sitting on a tree} Wow, looks like I missed the party, you ok? Maxy: {looks back at the wrecked Valkyrie with General Hund}...Oh yeah, never felt better, let's get outta here Ricky: Right {grabs him & teleports them both back to Hawe} {back in Hawe Village at night} Maxy: {crosses out Hund's name from his scroll} Now it's you Katze Ricky: Hmm, we still don't know who or where she is Maxy: She's in Vacuo currently Ricky: Huh? How do you know? Maxy: I had Silent investigate for me a bit, he told me a possible clue in that Kingdom Ricky: Silent? Dude didn't he try to kill you years ago? Maxy: Well now we're good friends, is that a problem? Ricky: {sighs} You make friends with anybody don't you Max? Even people trying to end your life Maxy: It's how you make a network Ricky: Yeah well if she's actually there we best make a move before she moves out, we need to identify her Maxy: Then we head there tomorrow, Terror is still with Al so we can't fly there Mama Laark: It's cool Max, you can use your Pappy's truck Maxy: Really? You want me to use Dad's truck? Mama Laark: You're gonna need to travel there, I ain't sending my babies walkin Ricky: But I can teleport there Maxy: You can't teleport supplies Ricky: Oh yeah...well if it's a truck let's make sure to pack a lot of things Maxy: Yeah, especially the beer {opens a can} Mama Laark: Uh-Uh baby boy {snatches it off his hand} you're not 21 yet Maxy: Aww Mama I was 43 Mama Laark: You were 43 before you turn us younger boy, you're barely 18 Maxy: Aww man Ricky: Hehe, oh well, least we can smoke again Maxy: Yeah, had to wait for a while though, alright, best we rest then tomorrow we make our move Ricky: Cool {walks off} Maxy: Where are you going? Ricky: I...just need to do something before I sleep Maxy:...You can't stop thinking about her can you? Ricky:... Mama Laark: Rick if you want her, stay with her Ricky: {sighs} I can't do that Mama, much as I want to {teleports} {at the Prince's Mansion} Kalista: {eyes a blacken from not sleeping for days trying to make the perfect armor} Pasu: {in his bedroom smoking a cigar}... Belle: Sweetie if you're not careful you may choke on your 10th cigar today Pasu: {coughs} Sorry Belle {sighs} I'm just thinking... Belle: Hm, you really miss your place at G.R.I.M.Ms don't you? Pasu: Oh I can live with that, I just wonder what my snake of a brother will do with my place Belle: You worry for your men? Pasu: They were a family I created within G.R.I.M.Ms, thanks to the Laarks I have lost that respect Belle: Hmm...tell you what, why don't we go out and get something to eat? Pasu: Oh I don't want you to- Belle: It's ok, I'll be paying, it's best we live like people there and now or else we may end up like the Schnees Pasu: {pictures himself with Jacque's moustache then shivers} Good point, being like Jacque is the last thing I want, Clockwork, go call Kali, we're going out Clockwork: Jawohl Kapitän! Pasu: Clockwork I'm not your Captain anymore Clockwork: Oh...my mistake Ca...umm Master Prince {goes off to Kalista's room & knocks} Miss Prince, your Vater is calling for you Kalista: Not now Clockwork Clockwork: Miss Prince you Mother and Father are going out Kalista: Tell them I'm busy Clockwork: {sighs} Miss Prince you've been in your room for a very long time now, your Mother and Father worry for you...I worry Kalista: {remains quiet} Clockwork:...{goes off} Kalista: {injects some devices in her body} Ngh...ok, this should be it Justice: Lady Prince the probability of Full Synchronisation with armor are 43% successful, it is very risky trying to become 1 with the Maiden-Slayer Kalista: If I don't try now more Kingdom and cities like Beacon will fall, I have to synch with this armor no matter what, activate Armor Materialisation Justice: Materialising... Kalista: Please work...{slowly starts floating & as her eyes glow bright neon blue}...Yes {armor starts appearing around her} It's working! {armor starts disintegrating} No-No {armor explodes damaging everything around her} Pasu: {feels a shake} What the?! {runs up stairs} Belle: Kalista! {runs up} Pasu: {breaks open her door} Kalista! {coughs from the smoke as he goes in & picks her up} Kalista: {badly burnt & wounded} {few minutes later at their dining room} Kalista: {sitting their staring at nothing while she has bandages} Pasu: This is getting out of hand Kali, I get it, things have gone crap for us but that doesn't mean you should endanger your life trying to do...whatever you do...say something! Kalista: I'm sorry Daddy Pasu: No-No-No-No-No, it's always "I'm sorry Daddy" Belle: Kali do you not care about your life? 3 months ago you tried this and you nearly killed yourself, you had to be put on Life Support for 6 weeks, you're still recovering now Kalista:... Pasu: This is getting out of hand, I'm taking your gadgets away Kalista: What?! No! Pasu: Til you clear your mind Princess I can't let you tinker anymore, I use to love seeing my Princess be creative but if that creativity is going to kill you then I got no other choice Kalista:... Pasu: I'm sorry, but unlike that douche Jacque I actually care about my family {walks off} Belle:...Kali...I know what happened has made you feel Kalista: What Mum?! Useless?! Weak?! I could have saved everyone but I was easily knocked and many died, Ricky left me and Zal is likely dead because of me! I failed everyone I cared for and been friends with! Bad enough the White Fang gave our race a bad name but...but {starts crying} Belle: {hugs her} I know sweetie...I know... Ricky: {outside far away looking}...{looks away & teleports} END
1 note · View note
onouwu · 7 years
Text
Going Against Giants (Part 1)
Tumblr media
Kerala was part of a race of tall and beautiful giants whose size and seemingly unlimited energy had allowed them to dominate the lower races of the world. Their bodies were designed for stamina and their sternum a soft cartilage structure that allowed their larger than normal hearts to beat freely while providing enough resistance to draw breath into their lungs easily. With low populations compared to the rest of the inhabitants, one of them would be put in charge of taking control of entire towns and lie about their force and numbers. They worked the lesser beings hard and few would stand up to them in fear of a war which could not be won.
~~~
As dawn broke, Gira laid down her sword and shield for the next shift to pick up. Her body was covered in sweat from wearing heavy armor all day. But that sun was her sign that she could finally rest after a night working as town guard for her people and Kerala, the self-described queen of the village and the liaison of her race who controlled the people there. For everyone else, it was work as usual.
She headed back from the castle walls into the inner chamber where few were allowed to enter save the queen and her guards. She continued heading for her quarters where she could get a few hours sleep. As she was walking by the queen’s chamber she noticed that the door leading to the queen’s room was partially open.
“Oh no! She’s in a meeting with her own people, I can’t let her see this open. Who knows what they all might do to us if she finds out!”
She quickly went over to close the door but as soon as her eyes peered inside she saw the queen lounging in her elegant gown, to her surprise.
“Ugh, I guess I should pretend to have come back. Some day I won’t have to pretend to have an army behind me and they’ll just be scared of me and only me. What will they do, fight me? They think I have no weakness! hahah!” the woman seemed oblivious of Gira’s presence, though Gira was shaking, barely able to contain herself.
“She… she had us fooled the whole time. that… that bitch…”
“You there!” Gira froze in place as those sky blue eyes turned to her.
“Did you just jeopardize your whole village, you nosy brat? I’ll make sure everyone knows it was you when I call my people to raze this weak village to the ground. you’re all worthless servants anyway.”
As the towering ten foot woman walked up to her, she could see her heart beating hard and fast from the vibration of the elegant sheer fabric covering but not quite concealing her breasts. Kerala being vain, she often wore beautiful and revealing gowns to show off her curvaceous figure.
“I-I’m sorry, Queen Kerala! I saw your door open and thought you were out. I simply wanted to close it!”
“Sorry? You were aware of the laws that your kind not touch my things and yet you broke them. A weak and worthless servant like you has tainted my door. You will find a replacement for yourself by dusk. This town needs a guard and you need to be made an example of.”
“Please, I’m begging! I will never again-”
Kerala interrupted her with a kick to her chest, shoving her back a few feet.
“Your family is now with you. Servants like you who just want to be exterminated really taint my pretty village.”
Gira’s family was gone unbeknownst to Kerala but the threat, the treatment and what it might mean to someone with a family was enough to cause her to boil over. She simply got to her feet, her heart was hammering, her body shaking in rage.
“You and what army?”
Kerala smiled
“Oh you heard? Too bad nobody will ever know. Go, run as fast as you can. I’ll catch up, you know. It’s not like a tiny peasant such as yourself can outrun me. I’m built to be faster and stronger than you. Your village will serve me to my heart’s desires.”
“If it’s the last thing I do I’ll crush your damn heart so it can’t desire anything”
Gira instead ran toward her drove her fist up under those tightly bound breasts to knock the wind out of Kerala’s body. Instead, she felt her fist sink much deeper than she anticipated even though she hit above her mark, causing the woman to heave and cough for a moment before shoving her elbow into Gira’s body and sending her to the ground a few feet back.
“You know, I think I’ll kill you slowly for that. You thought you could break something? My body doesn’t work like yours, filth.”
She could only watch as Kerala walked up to her and pinned her belly under her foot. From above her, she could see the larger woman taking heavy, labored breaths. Kerala grabbed her arm and began pulling as if to try and rip it from its socket but the incredible strength she expected to feel tugging on her arm as instead easy to fight against. She then realized that she must have somehow struck a really big weakness in Kerala’s body despite her gloating and not being stunned.
“STOP!” Gira yelled out in fear “To hell with that!” Kerala replied with what seemed like stress and frustration in her voice before her grip slipped and she suddenly stumbled back, clenching her chest. She was panting and sweating, her skin becoming pale. Fear set in her eyes as she could see Gira getting up and walking to her downed and helpless figure. She tried to jump back but her arms trembled as they cralwed her away in vain before Gira kicked her to her back and shoved her metal boot against Kerala’s sternum only to feel Kerala’s heart, now rippling uselessly beneath her foot
“Your heart… there’s nothing protecting it.” “Mine is bigger… better…” Kerala boasted weakly.
Gira shifted her weight to that foot and pressed firmly against Kerala’s gorgeously presented chest.
“Who’s the inferior race now?”
Kerala’s eyes went distant before she could reply, her breaths calmed as her consciousness faded from her. Relief washed over Gira as she stood there and watched the life leave her enemy’s body, though she didn’t feel good at all.
“No, you answer me, bitch!”
She couldn’t help but feel jilted. Her final moment to see the defeat in Kerala’s eyes felt… hollow. She wanted to make Kerala feel every bit of her own defeat but it was simply over… a peaceful eternal slumber. It was too good for such a terrible being. She had all the power in the world at last, and Kerala just died on her? She looked down at Kerala’s helpless body slumped over, then ran her hand over the heart she stopped through sheer force. At that moment she couldn’t help but see her opportunity before her.
Gira straddled her and lifted the sheer elegant cloth from the large woman’s chest and peered over her beautiful fair skinned feminine frame like predator to prey. Finally she brought her hands to center above the soft sternal cartilage where the organ beneath lied still and motionless. With rage and a desire for vengeance, her hands shoved in against the dying muscle, sinking in deeply. The vivid feeling of the blood rushing out of the heart and through the aorta was cathartic, satisfying.
“You think a weak being like you can die without my approval?”
Gira continued, forcefully unleashing her anger on the hapless organ, thrusting inward with abusive force. She pulled herself over the woman’s large breasts and began to breathe down her throat. The idea that she was reviving this woman against her will, to humiliate her was thrilling. The idea that she could take even death from them was a sadistic dream. Filling her lungs then pumping her heart, she had full control over every aspect of this supposedly superior’s life.
sitting back down on the woman’s lower belly, she began her next round of compression. The pushing was hard, tense, and aggressive which made the large body beneath her jerk with each thrust, the organ was her enemy and hope, and oh how she loved to abuse it. Again, she grabbed the woman’s shoulders and pulled herself up, taking as deep a breath as she could to empty it into those large lungs, just barely filling them. Gira found herself sweating and red. She wished only that she could show the woman beneath her whose pale skin and purple lips contrast her lively form. In exhaustion she lied down across the woman’s chest. As her breathing calmed she began to feel what she had been waiting for, suddenly her eyes lit up as The heart weakly began to pulse beneath her, the feeling was surreal. She sat back down on the defeated woman’s belly and Her hands rested over the delicate organ and felt it begin to start up between soft and weak breaths. She continued, pouring her own breath into this monster’s life before hammering against the weakly pulsing organ. It was soon she could get her final words in.
“Wake up!” Gira demanded, getting off of Kerala and standing by her head. Kerala could barely open her eyes to see Gira towering over her before Gira shoved her boot against Kerala’s neck.
“You’re such a weak and pathetic people, aren’t you? Tell me I’m superior so I can stomp out your worthless life with some of your dignity intact.” But Gira at this point hadn’t planned to let her go. She had many more years of frustration to work out in her mind as she focused on the life pumping before her eyes. She wanted to teach her former queen an unforgettable lesson in abuse of power.
78 notes · View notes