#*planetary; imperfection

"That’s cause they don’t know a hot cyborg goddess when they see one. Don’t worry, most of humanity is a bunch of mooks anyway. …Still wanna’ see that humanoid form though."

【 ☆ 】;;  nebulas across the sky

              ❝ i'm not a goddess. but i'm not worried. more concerned with being able                to move about freely with out being taken by the authorities. not that they                could. just a hassle to escape them.

                                          it's not hard to turn it on... if you do want to see. ❞ 

"Entirely so. Firm like mutton."

【 ☆ 】;;  nebulas across the sky

              ❝ and that is a good thing ? ❞

               if so, she would catalogue it.           among hundreds of other things he has said.

"Sweeeet. Been an eon or two since I’ve conquered a planet or defeated an army. Wanna’ go now? By space-ship? Hover-bike? Teleporter? Galactic dreadnought class battle-cruiser that we park on their ship?"

【 ☆ 】;;  nebulas across the sky

              ❝ please, just.. shut up. and get us there.          i don't care if we go by pogo stick. ❞

send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.

result - 8: first kiss

for all she knew, he could have been a badoon with superior intelligence. thrown together as some bizarre science experiment and left to wander the cosmos while on the brink of insanity. nebula had never seen him with out the outfit, hidden underneath the shroud. and yet, he wasn’t all that mysterious. it had been easy to constantly tease him for the ridiculous spandex that covered him. idiot, she would say but smile despite herself because his charm had eventually rubbed off on her. even when she had decided that she had an intense distaste for the idiot in red, he had been able to easily turn it around faster than she could ever think. she realized that she had spent too much time with him to categorize the mercenary as a reptilian humanoid who cares not for personal hygiene. besides, the badoon did not trust women and with wade, well —

                   she wanted to think that he liked her.

the luphomoid had never wanted anything else but to be liked by him. perhaps it was because she had never been given so much attention as she did when she was with him. or perhaps she was affected by his fantastic ability in combat, enjoying the way her heart raced when he maimed someone. but what she is never unimpressed by was that with the fact he could never die. she had seen no weakness in wade wilson and she had loved it most about him. unlike her own body, whose anatomy was littered with endless flaws and imperfections. he regrew organs and reattached limbs while she was forced to rebuild herself in ways that only seemed to make her weaker despite limbs that could scale flat surfaces with ease. this is why she desperately wanted him to like her because conceivably, he wouldn’t see her as a flawed little girl. he would see her as cruel hurricane that did not back down. he could see her as a deadly woman that could bear his own insanity.

                      and the idea had forced her to look at him almost whenever she could.

she could pinpoint when he smiled, recognizing the way his mask wrinkled when his mouth moved the muscles in his face. she had learned to pick out what his moods were just by looking at the way his mask moved across his face. it had bordered on the brink of obsession were it not that he looked at her just as often. and in those moments when he caught her staring, she would feel the heat behind her face build to where she could no longer bear it. because he was unafraid of embarrassing her and of saying whatever came to his mind. she would have slaughtered anybody who made her feel like such an imbecile. however, the attention from him only made her want to bring herself closer. it was not what she had planned. in fact, their relationship had been an unintended clutter of feelings that she found so difficult to express. when her mouth opened to tell him, she could only press her lips together and run another series of words through her databanks.

                              ❝ can i, please, take it off ? ❞

‘please' had not been a word she had learned to use often. manners where not part of her training. but neither was love. and yet, here she was. and she realized how much of her time she had spent contemplating her affection for him. an infatuation that had gotten out of hand in her own mind and she was suddenly terrified that he didn't feel the same. but she had asked to take off the mask anyway because she did not want to leave him with out knowing what he looked like. her fingers reached out to gently graze across the edge of his camouflage, the veil that separated them. her other hand resting on his chest, wanting to be as close as she could. to gather any semblance of serenity that meant she could do it herself. she could reveal his visage. pinching the fabric between her fingers, she felt her own breath stop as she pulled it from his skin. his chest rising a falling faster than hers did. and when it was done, she let out a breath of relief.

                         relief.

she had felt something alleviate from the husk of her heart as she pulled the mask over his head. the tough carapace she had spent her entire life constructing seemed to crack and blow away as she stared as his face. and her fingers went numb, dropping the red fabric as it was now useless. it was not a face she would have looked at and immediately loved. it was a face she would had retreated from in disgust and attempted to put distance between. because it was imperfect and maimed and disfigured. a history of violence was written on his face.

                                                       but it was his face.

and she read his history as clear as she could the stars. her fingertips kissed his jawline, tracing the scars and the pockets of missing flesh. her thumb gingerly laid across his cheekbone, tracing small circles into the flesh. d’ast, he was not perfect. he was not foolproof or unflawed. he was the product of expelling his own weakness. of an almost constant failure that resulted in a disfigurement unlike any other. she was like him. erroneous when looked at and they had done this to themselves. deformed and inhuman. they had mutilated themselves in the hope that they would be stronger. and she nearly mourned the once devotedness she felt. because now it had all changed. because he was not some almighty, immortal god. he was like her and she understood the pain he felt. she understood what it was like to sacrifice for the sake of being able to keep moving. and now she loved him not for his perfection but his 

                                        imperfection.

her eyes were immersed in his appearance, attempting to take it all in and store him so that she could remind herself. remind herself that he was not something she should be afraid of, to be frightened away because of his immaculateness. because he wasn’t and she reacted on instinct. accomplishing the only thing the luphomoid had been thinking of doing since she had realized that she had fallen for him. she pressed her cerulean lips to his marred ones, closing the distance between them. and suddenly, she was drowning in him. and it was like finally realizing that she was enough. enough for someone to love her back. that she didn’t need to cripple herself any longer. her arms rested on his shoulders, encircling his neck as she attempted to disappear into him. her lips still linked with his and she couldn’t get enough. even when she was breathless from kissing him, she didn’t stop. there was no way she could. because this was their first kiss.