#mycursedcaptain

Quill lowered back down over the body, eyes unusually dull in the dark. The vampire's features were drawn, and he looked more like a corpse than a creature. Blood went greedily down his throat, followed by something more meaty. His prey's shoulder was open and spread across the earth. She had stopped twitching, finally -- given up the last shreds of life she once tried to scream with while he held her mouth closed.

He wanted to pick her up and tell her that he was sorry again. The marks from the tears on him shown every time he did before. Quill smelled Albert growing close. Suddenly, he shied away from her, strips of muscle hanging from his teeth. His stomach growled, and Quill did his best to ignore how terribly it hurt.

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

Standing behind the shut screen door, the Grabber's head cocked to the side as he took in the trembling of the bushes in his yard. Samson was restless at his side, pacing the same few feet back and forth; coupled with the way he had barked and whimpered to get his attention at all, what had transpired was no mystery at all.

With a smooth shift, the top half of his mask was discarded and set aside on the kitchen counter. A firm command kept Samson indoors, and Mr. Shaw stepped outside.

The scent of blood was sharp, and sharper still the closer he got to those shifting leaves. He walked through the bushes, looked over the mess on his grass, and exhaled slowly through his nose.

Under the moonlight, the blood looked almost black.

"Why did you stop?" came Shaw's voice, low and growling. He crouched by Quill's shameful form, and without hesitation grabbed the hair at the back of his head and tugged to force him to meet his eyes.

(They were cold and angry. Daddy never liked waste.)

From Rao came Quill. The transformation was a fluid one, the kind that came in just a blink or two of the eye and a held breath. There was a dog, and then there was not. What replaced her carried similar aspects, however, such as the color of her gaze and lengthy fangs.

Quill bit into the stranger's throat, which cut off his curses. He tore the front of it away easily, spat it out, and buried his fangs into the flesh at the base of the neck. Quill took from him as he fell with the body, guiding the rapidly cooling corpse to the pavement. Sickening crunches came when Quill bit deeper, splintering bone and tearing muscle.

Quill hissed once he was finished. Trembling hands pushed back his hair. His gaze flicked to the side, and the creature saw Clark's shoes. Quill inhaled sharply at the realization that he was himself now. The answer to every strange question ever asked about Rao. At that, Quill froze, unable to comprehend what this would mean. He had panicked -- and that may have cost him everything.

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

For the longest time Clark was aware Rao was no ordinary dog-- not with her strange heartbeat, the smell of her blood, and her sensitivity to Earth's yellow sun-- but considering his own origins, anything abnormal was also... well, normal.

He came to terms with the mystery of his dog quite easily. Krypto finally had a playmate that wasn't at risk of dying simply because he got too excited, and that was good enough for Clark.

Now, though, he found himself stepping slowly towards the man that his Rao had become, stopping only because the leash that held Krypto back went taut as he stayed frozen. Amidst the stark noise of Rao's sucking and swallowing, Clark heard Krypto start whimpering, and turned to gently assure him that everything was okay.

Noticing that Rao stopped eating, he supposed he'd have to comfort her, too.

The way Clark crouched towards the ground was a familiar thing. Back when Krypto first took Rao home, she'd been so hesitant to get to know him that he'd gotten to her height each time he approached her. She'd been a skittish thing, so nervous around him, and though the acrid scent of Rao's blood now implied a baser fear than shyness, Clark didn't overthink it.

Abnormal was normal to Kal-El, son of Jor-El. At least some questions about his sweet girl were answered today.

"Rao," Clark cooed, one hand reaching in the space between them like he was asking her to shake, "come here, girl.

Suddenly, the pup lurched forward, bumping its wrinkled muzzle into the toe of Dunk's boot. How impressive ! How fearsome ! The pup moved with such force that it accidentally rolled itself over, yipping for help.

@mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

It was Egg's soft complaint that had Dunk looking away from where he was giving Thunder a good brush, his voice sounding small as he whined, "Eugh, ser..."

And so Dunk turned, and sure enough there was little Moon, making her way towards him with determination on her wretched face. He glanced quickly in Midnight's direction, making sure Mother was allowing her child to play, and then laughed when the puppy fell over-- poor thing.

"Doesn't matter how much you whinge about it" -- Dunk crouched, but instead of picking Moon up, he tickled her belly to get her leg kicking -- "all babies are ugly in some way, Egg. I bet you were right rancid, too."

"But I didn't look like that, ser, I'm sure!"

"Even if you did, your mother and father would've loved you. As we ought to love Moony."

Using two hands, he lifted the pup up in the air, squinting at her mouth.

"Pay him no mind, yeah?" Dunk kissed the top of her head. "He's just jealous he's not the baby any more."

"I am not!"

— from @mycursedcaptain, original meme.

He was naive to think that Zod would just rot in the depths of underground Antarctica. Barring Kara (and, in a way, Lex's machinated clone), the man was the only thing Kal knew could hurt him, and he should have known it would never be easy taking him down.

With the robots' help, Kal eventually managed to send Zod back to the Phantom Zone, but not without getting a beating in return. When he came home, it came to no surprise that Rao rushed to him in concern-- besides the miscellaneous cuts and bruises on him, the suit Ma had so meticulously made him was torn right over his gut where Zod shoved his fist right in and broke. The blood that covered him carried the distinct scents of two Kryptonians instead of one, too.

By the time Rao got him to lay down, there was a thin enough layer of regrown flesh for Kal to rest without needing to physically hold himself closed. The shot of energy from Earth's yellow sun he received at his Fortress had revitalised him, but these things took time... and, frankly, Kal couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been hurt this bad, if it had ever happened at all.

Gary's suggestion had been for Kal to stay in the Fortress until he was healed completely. But in the wake of his injury, Kal wanted to be home where his family was, even if it wasn't medically ideal.

A pull too tight at the bandages around him had Kal wincing, a soft groan escaping him before he could stop it. Already he anticipated the look on Rao's face, and when he turned to face her those big red eyes were looking at him in concern. Apologetic, Kal's (bloodied) hand came up to cup her cheek, a small smile crossing his (cut up) face.

"I'm gonna be okay," he reassured her, fingers drifting up to tuck some hair behind Rao's ear. "You're doing great, honey.

She had failed in that mission, unfortunately.

❝Kal,❞ Rao murmured, rolling onto her back. The creature's hair was loose, strewn across the bed, and she still wore her favorite cornflower blue maxi dress with ruffles. At the very least, she had possessed sense enough to shimmy out of her panties and bra before she laid down to wait. Around her neck, their family's proud symbol shone, as always.

❝Hey, my love ...❞ Rao rose up to meet him. ❝I missed you.❞ An arm slipped behind his shoulder, and she kissed him deeply.

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

It was always freeing coming home. Gone were the airs required of Superman and the behaviours expected of Clark Kent, leaving nothing but the man beneath-- the man that Rao's arm so sweetly slung over to draw him in close, and near, and warm.

Kal smiled into the kiss, and was smiling still when he pulled away to look at his wife. The sight of Rao beneath him, all soft with sleep and the delicate fabric of her dress, made his heart flutter in his chest. The way she leaned up for the next few kisses he pressed to her lips made it beat even faster.

"I missed you, too," he whispered, guiding Rao's hands to unfasten the clasps to his cape to slip off of him and onto the floor. "I'm sorry I'm home so late, especially when you look so beautiful. Gosh, you always do..."

In the familiarity of their routine (so domestic, he couldn't help but think proudly), Kal trusted Rao to unfasten the back of his collar and pull on the zipper at his back. Kal's belt clicked undone meanwhile, and as he kissed and sucked and rolled his tongue over Rao's jaw and neck, covering her in his scent, more and more pieces of Superman fell away from him.

"Every time I come home," he murmured, left in only his blue leggings now that his trunks and boots were kicked off, "I wonder how a guy like me lucked out with a wife like you. A house like this. A family like ours..."

Crinkles in the corners of his eyes, Kal's hands crept up Rao's dress, bunching the fabric as his touch drifted high towards her waist.

Quinn gave Enola a moment to inspect her work before she continued speaking. Her hands fell down to her lap, cradling the shape of their unborn child through her decorative nightgown. ❝Your father and I spoke about something last night.❞ Quinn's red eyes softened behind Enola. ❝We were considering hosting a dinner — for us, as a family, and Dr. Watson. It would be our way of extending our gratitude for all he has done. Would you ... want to invite your brother, little pup ?❞

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

"You're always so much prettier than I am, Mummy," Enola lamented as she looked in the mirror. As she turned and gave her mother a kiss to the cheek, however, it was clear there was no real venom in it.

She was terrible about her grooming and she knew it. The only time Enola gave a damn about her appearance was when she needed to look a certain way to gather information; all her other attempts occurred only because it was bothersome having her hair falling in her face.

But Quinn was a natural in the same way she seemed to be a natural at any of these traditionally feminine acts. It led credence to Enola's suspicions that she always did want to be a mother... and subsequently made her even happier that she was getting the opportunity for it. She was a flower in bloom now, her Mummy, and Enola leaned back enough to rest her head on her shoulder whilst watching their shared reflection in the mirror.

The invitation to dinner made her smile, ready to agree. But at the mention of Sherlock--

"Do you mean it?"

Despite herself, Enola could hear the excitement in her voice and instantly felt embarrassed by it. She was close enough to her brother by now to notice his humanity, but it was difficult not to admire him when he was so clever. John's recent serialisation of his adventures made everything more vivid than the papers ever did, too.

"No, no." Quill rolled over, grabbed his pseudo - daughter by the waist, and pulled her back to him. "I need you today. Come here, you little stray."

The captain's eyes focused on the ceiling above them. It was strange to see the details of her flat when he had become so accustomed to his ship or their home in America. Finally, his reds turned to look at Enola. "Breakfast," he said hoarsely. "-- and I have to check on the Demeter. I want you to see her with me, alright ? Then, you're welcome to return to your mischief and mysteries. I shan't stop you. Grant me the evening, please ?"

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

That Enola might have failed her mother's test for independence occurred to her a few months ago as she sat in Quill's apartment writing in her journal. But was it truly a failure when she took care of him as much as he did her?

In fact, as Quill pulled her in by the waist, she became certain he needed her more than the opposite lately. It was hardly anything Enola could blame him for-- he'd gone through an awful life change, and it had scared her beyond her wits-- but that didn't change its truthful nature. Despite her squeaking (largely playful), she allowed her own arm to wrap around his waist as she did her birth mother's a million times before.

Looking up into his red eyes, she made a show of pouting. Sometimes Enola feared if Quill knew the depths of her concern, he'd feel guilty for it-- it paid to play the part of indignant little girl.

"Why do you always assume I'm up to no good?" she asked, as if her arrival home hadn't somehow coincided with a few more incidents of smoke bombs in the area. As if it was her fault. "I'll stay... but not because I would've been in trouble otherwise, mind."

It's because I love you, Mummy. (She'd joked about how Quill was like a mummy to her over a year prior, and he was so deeply moved the nickname just stuck.)

❝Hello, Gabi,❞ he said, voice purposefully soft in case the fledgling vampire wasn't quite used to her hearing yet. ❝I know my son is out, don't worry — I actually stopped by to check on you.❞ Quill's arms instinctively drifted back toward his stomach. The chill of the treat against his bump reminded him that he had brought it. He stretched the sealed tupperware out toward Gabi.

❝They're frozen blood ... on popsicle sticks.❞ He laughed, more than aware of how silly it sounded. ❝I give them to the little ones when they're teething ; I've also noticed that they work for big vampires, too. It's a strange feeling, waking up with your new mouth, hm ? These are for you ... they'll give you sustenance while you're adjusting.❞

— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.

The depth of Gabi's distaste for Justin's mother couldn't be described for fear of her losing her temper. Ever since she first laid eyes on him-- on the way that he clung so desperately to his husband, and looked at him, and seemed to notice nothing else in the world but this fucking man-- it'd taken everything in her not to ask what the hell his problem was. Out of respect for Justin, and for the weirdness of actually getting to meet his family (because they were at that stage, it seemed), she'd kept silent, but it felt like such an affront to the womanhood she strived to achieve that she'd spent most of that first night frustratedly fucking her little wife into the mattress.

Out of love, of course. (Or whatever approximation Gabi could muster.)

It was humiliating, that said, opening the door to the sight of Quill himself. Her irritation was through the roof, reminding her in some stupid way of when her second puberty first started. She was hungry and itchy and cold, and every living thing that passed by made her stomach hurt, and Justin had left her behind because he had family obligations, and she was too good of a person to hold him back.

"Holy shit," she said aloud after an inhale, and then cringed when she realised she'd said it. You reek of pregnancy stuck in the back of her throat.

"I mean-- that's--" Gabi inhaled, smiling after. "Hi, Momma."

Ugh. She'd never felt more awkward, standing there in Justin's shirt and her ugly pyjama shorts. She hadn't even had time to put on makeup.

"Thanks." She took the tupperware, sniffled, and then made a disgusted face at how pathetic that sounded. "Justin never told me how bad I'd feel after the whole thing-- not that I'm not grateful, he's just-- he never prepares enough, I always tell him..."

Gabi sighed, ducked her head, and glanced at Quill through her lashes and the curtain of her (uncombed, anak ng--) hair.