#Red and Black Steam On Southern Metals

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Waking up the devil

Harry shows off for an audience...

[stareiiez]

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- four

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

content : dark?? ghost. fingering. orgasming. voyeurism. modern settings. mentions of stalking. gore. death. gun violence. graphic descriptions of gore. torture. obsession. drinking. sex. female genitals. unhealthy attachments. violence. blood. implied death. blood. smut in later chapters. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult cis female reader. MDNI. 3.8k words. proof read to the best of my tired eyes.

note: another late night update <3 if you're triggered by death/ torture pls don't read! if you do, don't say i didnt warn you! as always, reblogs, comments, and notes are loved and appreciated!!!!

To say soundproofing a basement was a blessing for Simon was a blessing is a severe understatement. Without it, the patrons who were upstairs drinking and being merry in crude ways would be able to hear the gut-wrenching screams and manly grunts over the pain-filled noises that were caused by several weapons of torture and destruction. His favorite had been the cheese grater. A little corny, sure, but god did it do the job to make a man piss himself like a little bitch when it was dragged up the valley of his tender throat. The meaty thwack of blunt force meeting wet skin echoes in the darkened basement. Musty air and traces of liquor tingle upon a twice-broken nose. Bloody knuckles wreak havoc upon the blistered and fileted skin of poor Graves. It's been like this for nearly an hour, the need for releasing pent-up steam and broiling over anger made Simon pull out the big guns and turn the pretty boy into nothing but a bloody sack of crying meat.

Graves was unrecognizable. Both of his once beautiful blue eyes, that you stared at so dreamy-like, were swollen shut. Puffy and purple turning with threats of black eyes and bloodshot irises. Cigarette burns, stab wounds, cuts, and barely forming bruises were littering the bare upper body of the poor suffering sap Simon was torturing half to death. Kidnapping and planned manslaughter were not in his plans tonight, far from it. His plans were innocent. He wanted to watch you and your nightly routine, memorize your little rituals before bed. He wanted to see what you would look like when you were dreaming so peacefully under his watchful eyes that would be at your bedside. He wanted to know what your sheets smelled like, felt like under his rough palms, and get the first touch of pure warmth that radiated off your little body while it was oblivious to his touch.

Now Graves just had to come over on the night Simon planned to. How unfortunate. Truly. If he was any better mate he would apologize for every scream and plea that tumbled out of that broken jaw that once purred into your ear in front of Simon's eyes. It didn't have to be like this, but he had a point to make. He tells himself this when his broad back turns, grabbing at an already stained towel painted red with thick ruby ichor. You were his girl. His pretty baby should be fingered by him and him only. This was only an example for every other son of a bitch you decided that was better to fuck than Simon Riley himself.

"She never even told me she had a boyfriend." cried Graves when he was still pure and fresh-skinned. His eyes flicked down to the dull butcher knife that Simon had been tossing up and down lazily; brown eyes watching the frustration and unease that crept on the other man's face underneath the bleached bone mask of his. "Wouldn't even have thought to touch her, unless she wanted it, and she did want it." Wrong set of words. Yikes.

Rusted metal meets the muscle of Graves' right thigh in one effortless swing of Simon, buried to the hilt. Dark cherry starts to bubble around the plastic handle. Strong metal and even stronger cries of the pretty boy. His head throws back with a growl and a colorful string of curses. Not a very Southern gentlemanly thing of him to do. Very different from the southern hospitality Graves was giving you before Simon got his hands on him. Overly whitened teeth bare out between a grimace and snarl given to the brit. All bark and very little bite. Cute. He'd have fun with this. He always had fun with this type of work, it's why his group always gave him the nitty gritty bloody work. Their hands would be a little cleaner than his, and he could enjoy watching even the toughest get unnerved when they caught the sick glint in Simon's eyes when he brought out new ' toys ' to try out.

Now Graves was on the receiving end of that sick look. Emotionless eyes but smiling lips that peeled a bit too wide under the suffocating balaclava that covered his head and mouth. Bottomless dark pools of his irises reflected the mess of carved-away fatty tissue and the sharp ends of broken bones stretching past the elasticity of human skin. A dead man's masterpiece. Picasso eat your fucking heart out.

The saving grace was the end of a smoking barrel that pressed to Grave's forehead. Hot iron and metal singed away at damp baby hairs and smoothed away the wrinkles of distraught so cruelly. Simon was growing bored of this torture now, he was wasting too much time here messing with a man who had one foot in the grave and the other trying to wedge itself in the doorway of life. He had to make a call and see if his pretty girl was distraught enough for a comforting hand or two to reel her into the snare of his adoration.

"Have we learned our lesson for the evenin' then, mate?" Simon's dark timber of a voice growled into the stale air. The end of his gun prodded at glistening skin for an answer almost immediately. He doesn't have all night.

Grave's jaws couldn't click together enough to help form the bleeding nub of a tongue to form a coherent enough answer to please him. That tongue was cut off with a clean swipe of Simon's blade when Graves still had his energy and was making threats about getting out of there and getting his men to show the Brit how torture worked; then maybe he'd celebrate by fucking 'his' girl all in memorium for his tries. Shame that tongue had to go, he preferred the curses and slew of half-baked 'go to hell's ' Graves let bolster out in the first thirty minutes down here.

He'll settle for a silent answer then. Broken bones popped socket arms and kneecaps would just have to be an affirmative' yes sir ' to Simon. If Dead men can't come crawling back out of their half-dug graves to come to eat some pussy; then mangled ruined bodies of desperate mutts of men can fuck to save their fading souls from descending into the depths of hell.

Thumb cocking back the hammer of his sidearm, pointer finger pressing a little bit too eagerly. The kickback of gunpowder and fire didn't make Simon miss the satisfying spray of pink brain matter, hot blood, and tiny pieces of flying skull shrapnel painting the grungey floor behind Graves.

A mess of gory artistry the man behind the painting would just have to miss being cleaned up and taken out back to be thrown away in a dumpster where all other trash goes to rot away in a marked landfill. The gun of his was tossed next to Grave's bound cooling corpse. He'll get an earful about doing this during working hours of the bar, but he would be damned if he didn't get to release his demons onto Graves before it was too late and his anger chilled to a icy tundra in his chest.

Another cup of coffee, perhaps your fourth of the night cools in your palms again. The caffeine does little to soothe the growing migraine that pounds behind your eye sockets with every microsecond your patience wanes into threads. Angry hornets fester inside your skull, and a jack rabbit's heart inside your chest. Your night is taking years off your life, you can feel it with every monotonous droning of the same questions one of the cops repeats every ten minutes or so. It feels like you're getting nowhere, running on a hamster wheel that'll lead to nowhere and you getting winded in the process. The police make you feel stupid. The moment two cop cars arrived at your residence to investigate the lack of evidence they found from your supposed potential serial killer. They condescended and ridiculed every detail you gave them till your face ran blue and the air in your lungs was nearly gone.

The bloody handprint that was smeared on the greenhouse's wall was already washed away; more than likely absorbed into the greedy grass like a man sucking down water after being in the desert for months. Other than the scratched ' S ' on your porch step there was little to believe you and your cracked-out story. They thought you called just for attention, just to waste gas that was paid for too high taxes. It's been like this for two hours now, repetitive questions and police pulling only yours and Graves' prints off your things and his abandoned truck that was sitting in your drive. Their idiotic conclusion? He was simply lost in the ever-expansive woods. Lost among the shrubbery and shadows, a victim to the unusually cruel predatory gazes of wildlife that watched his every move; ready to strike him down and feast like royalty till their bellies almost popped.

"What did the sheriff make the call on for tonight?"

The cop, who had been interrogating you, turned to address another policeman who was examining your small living room with boredom written all over his young features.

Before the way too young-looking man could answer, an older British voice called out "Why don't you ask 'im yourself, deputy?" The smell of strong cigar smoke suddenly started to assault your senses.

An older gentleman, with ashy brown hair and a thick jungle of facial hair, strode into your home. One of his hands supported the straps of his bulletproof vest, the other held the burning cigar that stunk up the small interior of your home in a matter of seconds. A plume of smoke exhaled out of his nostrils when his beady eyes swept over your kitchenette till they landed on your inquisitive expression. He pressed his cigar to his full lips for another inhale as if he had all the time in the world to stink up your home and trigger your body to sneeze at such an offending smell. "Sorry, sir. " The deputy uttered apologetically, eyes dropping low in embarrassment he was intimidated by such a commanding presence of his superior.

With another exhale of thick grey smoke that makes your nose wrinkle the sheriff approaches you. His right hand extended out for you to shake while he introduced himself to you as if his last name wasn't sewn so neatly into the black fabric of his uniform. "Officer, or sheriff John Price. I don't think we've met." His glove was rough against your skin, but his grasp was gentle while he shook your hand. His free hand plucked the cigar from his lips, teeth leaving bite marks over the damp end he had been sucking on. " Boys couldn't find anything here, miss except for disturbed gravel and prints from the wet grass out back. We can't pull anything significant off those marks, unfortunately. Could have just been a bad attempt of some break-in just to scare a young woman and her guy friend."

Your eyebrows creased, hand slipping out his light hold quickly. Angry hornets in your skull turned into a full-on battalion of those large Asian wasps that had excellent memory. They were banging around against hard bone, buzzing so loud and pissed that they threatened to burst out of your ears and sting every single cop here. Especially Price, they'd sting him right on his stupid gruff face. "But whoever was here, didn't steal anything they just left --"

"The flower behind, yes. The lads at the lab will run it to see if there's any DNA on the stem or even petals. Any clothing fibers or hair strands will be alerted to us right away, but there's nothing we can do. You know how rowdy teens these days are, they'd do anything to scare the grown adults into a heart attack for fun." Price quipped, finishing your sentence.

Your eyes rolled, frustration growing rampant like a disease over your face. An infection that Sherriff Price wasn't so susceptible to being a victim of. One bushy brow rose at your childish irritation from the denial he and his men had rubbed into your face time and time again. "Rowdy teens just don't make a grown-ass man disappear without a trace. Rowdy teens aren't capable of breaking cleanly into my home and not stealing anything of value." Your voice raised, brows pitching up and causing frown lines to crack along your smooth features.

"And rowdy teens don't scare the fuck out of me and make me want to look over my shoulder from now on after tonight. There's someone out there who is taunting me, and I want him or she or them to leave me alone." You're standing by this point. Chair kicked out behind you, your hands slammed down onto your table. Hot black caffeine spills over the dark marble of your dining room table. You're glaring daggers into the older man's eyes and he gobbles it all up without even a reaction to your worked-up outburst. He's not afraid of little girls screaming and trying to embarrass him, he's dealt with all of this before. Not this scenario, but high and haughty women who thought they were number one.

Price blinks, takes a step back silently, and turns his head to address another policeman loitering around; unsure what to do. "Have one of the guys do a stake out for twenty-four hours around her home, if anything is outta place you call me right away." Then he turns his gaze back to you, smiles that forced smile one makes when they're uncomfortable. Eyes crinkled with a lack of warmth that only manages to irk you further than comfort you. Temporary support does little to quell the ball of a bundle of nerves that is your nervous system right now.

"Have a good night, miss." Price dismisses himself. That awful cigar of his shoved back into his mouth and steps back out the front door. His men follow that were lingering inside your space, all except for the deputy that had been interrogating you. That's supposed to be your rough and rugged surveillance system for the next twenty-four hours until you can justify scraping enough money aside to get your surveillance just for this place.

Price exhales a continuous cloud of smokey grey into the night air. His head tipped back enough to trace out a few major constellations in the sky with curiosity, all while the other two cop cars that were parked out front drove off nonchalantly.

Bright teeth, stained slightly yellow from tobacco clamp further into the cigar's end while he fishes out of his many pockets a cell phone. Pretty outdated, the screen is cracked and the little processor moves at a snail's pace. A real piece of shit technology that holds a few private numbers that aren't saved under any typical name.

His gloved thumb jams against the screen a few times on one of those particular contacts and he holds the cell to his ear whilst unlocking the driver's side of his car and climbing inside. Cigar stamped out into the ever-growing ashes of his ashtray, he taps his fingers against the steering wheel in wait. The line rings once, twice, and on the third ring the call is picked up and a deeper British voice answers in a grunt of a ' hello ' to Price.

"You've got one hell of a firecracker there, Riley." Price cracks out, tone joking. "You've worked the little bird up into a tizzy, she seemed ready to jump 'cross the table for me."

The other voice only gives out a scoff, a monotone 'really?' . Price can only picture the hint of a cruel smile curling on the ends of Simon's lips now. "Boys' are none the wiser, I'll tell 'em it was just a bad prank gone wrong. The station will be none the wiser. Poor blokes." He chuffs. The engine of his car starts, and he reverses out of the drive. The silhouettes of his deputy and you awkwardly standing in your living room window bring another good-humored huff out of his ash-riddled lungs. "Don't make me bury your girl under missing person reports if you're too rough with 'er." Price mutters low over the line. Simon only scoffs on the receiving end, like he'd never hurt his precious girl. He'd be damned if you were taken from him by his own hands.

"Jus' keep an eye on her when I can't. " His voice rumbles like thunder in Price's ear, then hangs up the call with a sullen click.

Price sighs, tossing the backup cell in his passenger seat. His dark eyes focus on the lonely road back into the city. His radio in the car is buzzing with life of officer chatter, but he's not paying much attention. He's got to figure out how to stuff this darker piece of work underneath a rug without leaving wrinkles of his involvement behind. The old man was never one for the double life. A charming foreigner passed for a white-collared American who was there for the people at every righteous beck and call of his name. Then a grimy soldier for the kind of men that worked on setting the bastards that cops or other forces of power were too busy or pussy to end the right way; with a bullet in the head and their name smeared in blood as a warning for other bastards to behave or else.

A kind of work he did far before the ' never do no wrong' persona of his was adopted onto him. Now juggling both for one of his boys? Someone that he even dared to be considered as close as family to him? What had he gotten himself into, all for the sake of some weird iteration of what Simon called infatuation and obsession for a pretty little thing he only saw for one night and wouldn't stop planning on when to see her next. Price wanted to call him crazy when Simon opened his mouth and asked if he could do him a favor. Lie. Lie and cover his white English ass as much as he could just till Simon could convince his new obsession to think about him in the same way he thought about her. Convincing was putting it lightly, but Price didn't second guess or even ask. He knew what it was like when the parasitic love bug decided to rear its ugly head and bite you clear on the ass when it wanted to. Back when he was a younger man, back in his prime he had a sweetie. Soft and curvy, supple and sweet under his lips and to his heart. A fond memory he likes to include when he thinks about family from time to time. Something of his past he's left behind for a new rendition of a family that was strong men, sweat, blood, near-death experiences, and bonding over strong liquor after their work.

Anything for them, he supposes while he turns the car towards the station for the biggest sack of shit he could regurgitate out of his aging vocal cords and lets it spill in sticky white lies to doe-eyed men and women who wouldn't think twice to clean record Sheriff John Price.

"If you need anything, here's a walkie. Can't give out personal cells to citizens, but I'll be in range for us to talk." Deputy Dipshit tells you when the loud slam of car doors and the starting of engines signal the squad's retreat along with the Sheriff's.

You frown down at the cold chunk of plastic that was pressed into your smooth palm by the male. You feel immature even to be using this thing. But you don't argue, or say how stupid it is not just to use cell phones for this one dire situation. You accept the stupid walkie with little dignity that was now washed away by telling the police what exactly you and Graves were doing before he was attacked and taken away.

The walkie is tossed onto your neatly made mattress, weariness makes your eyes droop and your hands rub at your face. At least you're alone now, your crappy watchdog is settled inside his vehicle, protected by his sidearm and tazer. Your feet blindly patter against the dark cherry oak of your bedroom floor a ragged breath of exhaustion leaks out of your lungs like a deflating balloon. You pray to whatever gods or goddesses up there in the cosmos, watching over every single little thing with sadistic eyes, that they are protecting Graves. You could never stomach the fact that somehow you managed to get him killed for even touching you or being in your presence. You're not that special or even have that much power to illicit someone to commit manslaughter just because they were jealous or overprotective.

That's something from a fucked up dark romance novel that has mentally ill women squirting over the tall morally grey character that would do anything for their love interest.

Your phone screen buzzes from your bedside table, the obnoxious vibrations and chirpy ringtone of ' Kim Possibles ' phone ringtone blares into the short-lived silence and the even shorter prayer you were making for a man you barely even knew.

" Give me a break!" you groan out between clenched teeth that temporarily bore in a snarl to your lit-up screen. You shouldn't act like that, what if it was your friends reaching out to check in on you? They knew Graves was coming over to visit you and to ' catch up ' in more ways than one, maybe this was them poking their noses into your business and wondering how good Graves managed to fuck you silly five ways from Sunday. If only.

Another deflated-like balloon sigh and you snatch up your phone to see who texted you. Yet as much as you would kill for the spam of messages that would spew from Izzy and Veronica about how well-endowed and lickable Graves was in all his glory, it was far from their girlish text messages. An unknown number glared up at you. The notification on your locked phone screen, which was a picture of you and your childhood dog in your old home smiling at the camera, showed that the random number had texted you.

"Guess the police actually can text you, who knew." You mumbled under your breath, your tone still acidic on your tongue while you unlocked your phone and tapped on your message app to open the chat and read the text without even hesitating to check over the number thoroughly.

"Hello there, pretty girl." the text read.

[astrodecana]

Welcome to Zodiparadise where Wanders roam freely without persecution.

Fuegos: Southern Mainland

15 Million Wanders,

Terras: Center Mainland

21 Million Wanders

Aerokos: Western Islands

17 Million Wanders

Aquas: Northern Islands

22 Million Wanders

.

Wandster beast may roam anywhere.

Cities and Roads at night

.

This secretive nation in the northern pacific live in colonies celebrating their abilities. Their clothing and accessories give off hints of their powers, what village theyre from and emergency availability. The clothing is White Summer, Light Grey Spring, Dark Gray Autumn, and Black Winter, the accessories can be Red Fire, Green Earth, Yellow Air, or Blue Water.

Their wander powers stem from an Ancient Meteor that roams freely around Zodiparadise. Wanders must make contact with Meteor within a year to keep their elemental powers or else they fade away. The meteor can be very tricky.

There are 4 main elemental powers, Fire, Earth, Air and Water. Then there are 36 Decan Powers the Meteorite name Matteo bestows on Wanders.

The Meteorite gifts gemmed wands to talented people able to manifest the elements of nature, there are 36 total with a unique aura glow and power.

Each Gem is attached to the 3 decans of each Zodiac Sign, here are their glyphs that naturally appear on the back of wanders necks during initiation.

Spring Cardinal Fire:

Mars Aries- Lava, Topaz

Sun Areo- Laser, Tigers Eye

Jupiter Aritarius- Shadow, Onyx

Spring Fixed Earth:

Venus Taurus- Plant, Emerald

Mercury Taurgo - Metal, Quartz

Saturn Tauricorn- Plastic, Purple Agate

Spring Mutable Air:

Mercury Gemini- Sound, Peridot

Venus Gembra- Wilderness, Jade

Saturn/Uranus Gemarius- Omniscience, Star Sapphire

Summer Cardinal Water:

Moon Cancer- Steam, Blue Topaz

Mars/Pluto Cancio- Indestructible, Alexandrite

Jupiter/Neptune Cansces- Fusion, Garnet

Summer Fixed Fire:

Sun Leo- Combustion, Ruby

Jupiter Leotarius- Hivemind, Opal

Mars Laries- Divinity, Amber

Summer Mutable Earth:

Mercury Virgo- Crystal, Turquoise

Saturn Vircorn- Gravity, Pearl

Venus Vaurus- Force Field, Purple Fluorite

Autumn Cardinal Air:

Venus Libra- Trance, Tourmaline

Saturn/Uranus Librarius- Time, Chocolate Opal

Mercury Librini- Reflection, Aquamarine

Autumn Fixed Water:

Mars/Pluto Scorpio- Flesh, Carnelian

Jupiter/Neptune Scisces- Spirit, Lolite

Moon Scorcer- Frost, Moonstone

Autumn Mutable Fire:

Jupiter Sagittarius- Electricity, Citirine

Mars Sagaries- Luck, Rose Quartz

Sun Sageo- Beastify, Goldstar Sapphire

Winter Cardinal Earth:

Saturn Capricorn- Bone, Zircon

Venus Capaurus- Mud, Coral

Mercury Caprigo- Darkness, Obsidian

Winter Fixed Air:

Saturn/Uranus Aquarius- Alien, Amethyst

Mercury Aquamini- Swap, Tanzanite

Venus Aquabra- Disable, Serpentine

Winter Mutable Water:

Jupiter/Neptune Pisces- Duplication, Jasper

Moon Piscer- Dream, Sapphire

Mars/Pluto Piscio- Unipower, Diamond

Power is assigned to one of eachone of 3 decans per Zodiac Sign of 12. Each decan may last 10 days long.

The World of Zodiparadise awaits! Use your wander abilities to train up to 4 wandsters, beast that roam Zodiparadise

[rustedhearts]

Raise Hell (Nascar!Steve x fem!reader)

summary: nascar driver steve harrington is a hot mess. literally. but when he keeps coming into your diner, staggeringly drunk and adorable, you can’t help but grow fond of him.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

hot wheels masterlist main masterlist

tags: nascar!steve, reader is referred to as ‘bunny,’ just fluff and flirting.

author’s note: i don’t know much about the mechanics of nascar because i’m more of a formula one fan, so some of the racing terms/descriptions might seem a bit more f1. sorry!

raise hell, praise…harrington?

talladega, alabama, summer 1995

In Talladega, a girl’s got two things to be: a country beauty queen, or stuck at her high school job. Stupid or stuck. You were stuck—specifically, stuck balancing trays of sweet teas and cokes, and burning your palms on the underside of steaming hot burgers and flapjacks. Stuck in the same stupid powder blue uniform and frilly lace apron you’d been swearing since you were seventeen. Sometimes, you started to wonder if you were no longer stuck—just plain stupid.

But two years ago, Nascar saw a new face on the tracks: one Steve Harrington. Donned ‘Pretty Boy’ for his princely good looks and boyish charm, he burned rubber like nobody’s business, and Alabama’s been in an uproar ever since. You normally didn’t welcome midwestern men with such open and loving arms in a place like this, but as the folks say: he’s one of us, honey.

And one of you he became. He even had the slight slur of a southern twang to prove it, and you came to hear it firsthand when he sat at the end of your counter one night last October, bleary-eyed and pink-cheeked.

“What can I get you, Hot Wheels?” You hadn’t meant for the name to slip, but once it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

Luckily, Steve just laughed. Slumped on his palm, draped over the counter full of old crumbs and sticky syrup, he pointed toward a laminated menu beside him.

“You guys sell fries?”

You gave him a basket of hot, golden french fries fresh out of the fryer, salted to perfection by yours truly. When Steve saw them sitting in front of him, practically overflowing in their red plastic, newspaper-lined confines, his eyes got huge. He devoured the basket in five minutes flat. You turned your back to clean the coffee pot, and when you went to check on him, offer a glass of water to rouse him from drunken stupor, he was gone.

Sitting in his empty, grease-splattered basket were two hundred dollar bills. It’s still the largest tip you’ve ever gotten on such a small bill to date (or…on any bill).

When Steve Harrington stopped by the diner, you went home with a thicker wallet, a swollen heart, and a burning blush on your face.

You always heard his arrival before you saw his face. The smooth, low grumble of his Ferrari engine. His headlights blared through the blinds on the diner windows, whipping with effortless expertise into the front spot near the door. The headlights cut off, and moments later the door chimed as his lean figure stumbled through.

Designer sneakers scuffing the floor, black leather racing jacket with endorsement patches ironed on neat gleaming beneath the white fluorescents of the diner. He smelled like gasoline and boozy cologne—or maybe that was just the booze. Steve's favorite bar was just up the road: a swanky wood-paneled joint with a mechanical bull, and girls just out of college in skimpy denim shorts and leather cowboy boots. He always left with pink-tinged cheeks and a sway in his step, and though you disapproved of getting behind the wheel under the influence, you didn't mind that he raced all the way here just to get to you.

Tonight, like every night, he strode straight toward the counter and took his seat on a squeaky metal stool at the end.

He patted the counter, shot a finger gun at you, and smiled a half-cocked grin. "Hey, pretty girl."

Cheeks blazing, you rolled your eyes as you collected the coffee pot—freshly brewed just for him—and his basket of sizzling, golden fries. You placed the fries in front of him and flipped over a porcelain mug, pouring a steady stream until it pooled around the rim. No room for cream or sugar: how Steve liked it best. He was already five fries in by the time you placed the coffee pot back.

"Hey, Hot Wheels. Catch anythin' good tonight?"

Elbows pressed against the counter, you leaned over the stack of sticky menus and extra ketchup bottles to flash him your sweetest smile. You always laid it on real thick for guys like him. None of 'em tipped like Steve did, and none of 'em were nearly as handsome. None of 'em made you laugh like Steve did. Jesus, how stupid was that?

"Nothin' worth bringin' home, Bun," Steve sighed, head falling to his palm as his fingers made quick work of delivering fries straight to his mouth.

"Better luck next time." You shrugged, though you knew what this game was.

"No," Steve mused, eyes narrowed with a twinkle of mockery, lips coated in shiny grease and flecks of salt. "No, I don't think so. Know who I'd love to take out, though?"

You pulled away from the counter, that familiar flutter in your chest. You reached for the damp rag previously soaked in lemon sanitizing spray, wiping at the crumbs behind the counter. Steve always came in right when you were closing up. The first time he stumbled in, you threatened to kick him out, but something about those stupid puppy dog eyes and that sly, halfway smile made you stop. You always agreed to close on weekends, just to stay back and clean up after the strays and Steve Harrington. The diner was quiet, only the buzz of old lights and the distant whoosh of cars on the road keeping you company until he appeared.

"Who?" you asked, eyes flicking his way as he munched on his fries. The newspaper in his basket crinkled with his eager snatching.

Steve lifted his head, movements slow and bleary, and in your periphery, you could see it follow your every motion. His jacket made his shoulders look broad and big. You could smell the cigarette remnants still on his hands when you moved in front of him again.

"Come on, Bun," he huffed, that poor, sweet attempt at an Alabama drawl clinging to every word. The way he said your given nickname made your heart squeeze.

"Come on, what?" You flashed him a smile, pursed lips and scrunched nose, and he shook his head amusedly at it. He thought you were so beautiful, even in this ridiculous 1950s getup, hair frazzled and face gleaming with heat.

"When are you gonna let me take you out, sweetheart?" he pouted, hand bumping his empty, grease-stained basket when he dropped it to the counter.

Though your insides were stirring and the back of your neck felt like someone was giving it a pinch, you spun on your heel and reached for the coffee pot again, feigning an air of cool ease. You never wanted a man to have the upper hand on you, no matter how pretty that man might be. Your daddy taught you better than that.

Pressing close to the counter, you held the pot midway in the air, hovering, and caught Steve's eye. His were all whiskey brown and muddy green, more hazel than anything. It was only at this moment that you heard the Willie Nelson song humming on the jukebox in the corner. His lips parted when your eyes narrowed, catlike and dreamily charming.

You inched closer, leaning in like you were fixing to whisper a secret. "When you come in sober, Mr. Harrington."

You topped off his untouched coffee, placed the pot back, and sashayed toward the tables to wipe them down (for the second time tonight). Behind you at the counter, Steve gnawed on his lip, head tipping to admire the backs of your thighs where they caught the plump flesh of your ass beneath your shorts. He scoffed to himself, snatching the mug thrumming with heat, slurping at the potent black liquid.

If sober was what you wanted, sober you would get.

♡ ♡

Nascar was always on channel two, and when your manager Rod was working, he insisted on playing it on the tiny television behind the counter. He paced between the office in the sticky kitchen and the space behind the counter, munching on peanuts and sipping a jumbo Pepsi from the morning.

"Rod, maybe you should have somethin' else to eat." You whooshed a platter of burgers and fries over his head as you rushed toward your table.

"Nah, I'm waitin' for that-that Harrin'ton kid to come on," he excused, motioning toward the tv with a salted peanut palm.

You bit back a grin, sliding the plates onto the table for your eager customers. Wiping your hands on your apron, you headed back to the counter and leaned on the other side.

"What, excited to watch his engine crap out again?” you teased, giggling at Rod’s offended expression before flouncing off toward the kitchen for your break.

“That kid might not be from here, but he’s one of us now, Bunny!” Rod called after you, accent thick and slurred loose.

You waved a hand, eyes rolling. “Why d’ you think I give him such a hard time, Rod?”

You heard his hoarse chuckle as you hopped up on the empty steel tabletop in the kitchen, snatching a soggy fry from a half-empty basket. The cooks all murmured about a table that sent back a burger (there’s always one), and asked you about your shift today. The occasional ‘how are the kids,’ and ‘your garden holding up well in this heat?’ ensued, but most of them knew that when you had a moment to yourself back here, you preferred it in silence.

Billy, a line cook a few years older than yourself, whizzed by with a greasy silver spatula and a plate of perfect, crispy grilled cheese. He slipped it onto your lap as he passed, eye dropping in a wink, before he returned to the grill. You grinned in thanks, picking up the warm, shiny sandwich.

You were halfway through the first triangular slice when a holler jolted you on the table. You dropped the slice, rushing to place the plate on the table and skitter into the dining room again. Head whipping around, you searched for some sort of disaster—a hurt child, a choking customer—and found Rod screaming at the television, red-faced and glistening with sweat.

Huffing, you collapsed against the counter. “Rod, what the hell?”

Rod didn’t tear his eyes away from the television as he smacked his hands together. “Aw, come on! His car’s crappin’ out, he’s gon’ have t’ leave the race.”

You shifted toward the television, preparing to scoff at the urgency of Rod’s statement when sparks skidded over the track on the screen. Even in their pixelated form, the sparks were bright and sharp as a firework on independence day. You watched the cherry red car bounce, jostling the driver inside—clear cause for a biting backache. The car veered left, then right, then toward the off track where Steve stopped it.

Rod cursed, slapping his knee and shaking his head.

“Got-damnit,” he shrilled, easing up from the stool. “When’re they gonna put ‘im in a car that actually drives?”

Rolling your eyes and attempting to ignore the ball of worry the size of Texas aching in your chest, you slid away from the counter and headed back toward the kitchen where your food waited.

“When are you gonna get t’ work, Rod?”

“Eh.”

♡ ♡

That night, you soaked the linoleum in lemon cleaner and scrubbed at the vinyl booths, lights dimmed to keep customer count low until you actually closed. Rod left a few hours ago, and only a handful of cooks lingered in the back, shooting the shit and sharing smokes. You liked having the dining room to yourself while you closed up, humming along the radio and watching the road through the windows. You fantasized about a life with enough money to never wipe a table again.

Given the day he had on the track, the last person you expected to see that night was Steve Harrington. So when the door chimed open and shoes squeaked across the freshly-cleaned tile, you whirled around with a customer-approved smile in preparation for a sweet but curt “we’re about to close.” However, the customer service facade dimmed at the sight of that familiar pretty face and those colorful ironed-on insignias.

“Hey, Bun.” He sounded breathless and beat.

"Hey," you squeaked, dumbfounded by the sight of him.

The outline of his helmet still sat on his face: aggravated red lines indented around his eyes, across his cheeks and nose. His hands, Ferrari-red and raw, trembled as they swept through his tousled hair. "Mind if I sit, Bun? Long day."

Which is how he ended up slumped in a clean booth, head of slick locks thumped against the glass. It felt odd to see him in an actual seat instead of his usual at the bar, but he needed the rest. You could only imagine the sort of strain a car going 200 miles an hour while jerking around had on someone.

You slipped into the kitchen, and with a meek and quiet plead, had the cooks make one last batch of fries fresh for Steve before they left. Just enough for the driver to get his strength back up and feel at home again. The fried pile of grease glistened and sizzled in their plastic confinement on the way out of the kitchen, a cold glass of Pepsi fizzing in your other hand.

You brought them to the man still drooped in the furthest booth, head tipping to find his eyes. "Steve?"

"Hmm?" Blearily, the racer sat upright and blinked at you.

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed the basket of fries closer to him. "Food."

"Oh."

He munched on the crispy golden potatoes for a while in silence. The back door clinked with the absence of cooks. You thought about getting up to flip the sign over to 'sorry we're closed!' but you couldn't find it in yourself to leave the table. Eventually, you slid into the booth across from him and watched him eat. He sucked down the Pepsi through a striped straw like a toddler gulping apple juice.

"Why did you come here tonight? I mean...you're in no shape, Hot Wheels," you remarked, watching him rub his fingers free of salt.

Steve's eyes flickered toward you below his brows, chin tipped toward his food. He straightened up when he saw you watching, giving his shoulders a shrug. He smelled like scorched rubber, gasoline, and a bit of bourbon-whisky.

"Had a shit day," he muttered, eyes returning to his fries with urgency. "Knew seein’ you would cheer me up."

A flutter disrupted the rhythm thumping in your chest. You felt it in your throat, too, settling like indigestion. You swallowed harshly to clear it away, easing the wonderment in your face with a little grin. Steve went back to finishing the thin strips of fry remnants sitting at the bottom of his basket.

Stripped free of liquored charm and that 'pretty boy' suave, Steve Harrington actually seemed...sweet.

"Hey, Hot Wheels?"

Steve looked up, lips glassy with grease. "Yeah?"

"You can take me on that date now."

♡ ♡

[crinkly-spinkly]

Fuck it. Mengine scents.

This small perfume business has the widest array and most accurate scent descriptions I've ever experienced. I have a good handful of their collection, and here's what I think these seven idiots would smell like.

Edward

Aziraphale (of course) - marshmallow-topped hot cocoa, rice, wool, crêpes, leather-bound antique books, and old, wooden bookcases.

Wuthering Heights - lavender, vanilla, spectral musks, vetiver, tonka, jasmine, tea leaves, oakmoss.

Inspiration: Wuthering Heights (K. Bush)

A Deal With God - fougère accord, olibanum, vanillin, black tea, amber, bois d'encense, tonka, myrrh, benzoin, peru balsam, geosmin, patchouli.

Inspiration: Running Up That Hill (K. Bush)

Lavender London Fog - earl grey tea, steamed milk, vanilla, lavender simple syrup.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - an essential oil/naturals-only aromatherapy blend, also used in my Dream Balm: Roman chamomile, Bulgarian lavender, bergamot, petitgrain, black frankincense, cedarwood, palmarosa, Peru balsam, dark patchouli, sweet orange, neroli, lemon eucalyptus, ylang ylang, clary sage, mysore wood, German chamomile, benzoin, armoise, hops flower, red mandarin, rosewood, tangerine, white sage, cardamom, and jatamansi. (Not safe for those who are pregnant/nursing.)

Southern Hospitali-tea - sweet tea, marionberry scones, freshly-made strawberry preserves.

Tabula Rasa (essential oil blend) - lemongrass, lemon, bergamot, sage, citronella, gingergrass, palmarosa, clove, lavender, vetiver, white sage*, cinnamon leaf.

Honey-Buttered Crumpets - lightly toasted English muffins, slathered with homestyle creamed honey butter, a *light* smattering of baking spices, and a pinch of sea salt.

Morning Star - thick, rich golden orbs of amber, vanilla, whipped cream accord.

------

James

Fougère Accord - My prized, personal house-blended fougère (also used as part of the Wuthering Heights blend): Bulgarian lavender, silvanone, oakmoss absolute, vetiver, tonka, jasmine, cetalox, bergamot, vanillin.

Corpse Bride - black roses, white amber, damp earth, vanilla, tonka, musk.

Forbidden Fruit - fresh, crisp, unadulterated red delicious apple.

I ♥ the 80’s - a Lisa Frank-esque powerhouse: tuberose, orange blossom, white amber, bubblegum, suntan oil, Aquanet hairspray, gummy worms, & fruit-scented erasers.

Amor - white chocolate, raspberry cordial, rose petals.

Vice - lascivious crimson musk, crumpled velvet, leather, amberspice accord, animalic accord, suede, over-ripe figs, rum, raspberry, cognac, smeared red lipstick, tobacco, silken underpinnings, florid skin, cocaine accord, smoke.

Poivre Vanille - vanilla, pink peppercorn, black pepper, amber, cedar, conifers, clove.

Bomb Pop - cherry, lime, blue raspberry.

Bisou - smeared lipstick and warm, flushed skin: vanilla, orris root, violet, sugar, cetalox, skin musk, and safraleine.

Raspberry Rosemallow - marshmallow, buttercream, raspberry-rose compote.

------

Toby

Belsnickel - strong coffee, streusel coffee cake, nutmeg, brown sugar, toasted almonds.

Cuir - leather, suede, chamois accord.

Old Scratch - blackstrap molasses, bourbon, pumpkin pie, candied ginger.

Creaky Floorboards - old, weathered wood, aged dark patchouli.

Brightening The Daybreak - grass, clover, hay, sun-warmed cornfields, muguet, honeysuckle, acacia, ozone, meadow air, tree moss, oakmoss, fir balsam.

Coffin Nails - tobacco leaves, tobacco flower, whiskey, ginger, anise, coriander, clove, spices, fruitwood sap, juniper berry, hay, vetiver, benzoin, labdanum, vanilla pods, tonka bean, honey.

Dark Sided! - devil's food cake, cream cheese frosting, cardamom, pipe smoke.

Hand Me My Leather - premium leather/suede accord, vanilla, benzoin, tolu balsam, Peru balsam, olibanum, amber, black pepper, cedar, sandalwood, tonka, musk.

Torture Chamber - leather straps, metal chains, wooden paddles, earthen floor.

------

Thomas

Bohemian Rhapsberry - wild berries, aged dark patchouli, vanilla, pu'erh tea, ginger, black pepper, cardamom, tonka, cedar, sandalwood, artemisia, sage, bergamot, neroli, incense, pink pepper, benzoin. Contains natural raspberry isolates.

Oranjulius - the quintessential mall-smoothie of the 70's/80's: orange juice, milk, sugar syrup.

(allergen information: contains Valencia orange & red mandarin essential oils)

Blue Musk - clean, soapy, aquatic.

Middle Earth - chocolate, amber, nag champa, dark patchouli.

Blueberry Crème Soda - blueberry cordial and cream soda with an extra shot of vanilla.

Lucifer - white sage, blue musk, cedar, blackberry, black tea, bergamot, apple.

Doll Head - heliotrope, marshmallow, benzoin, long-forgotten cardboard boxes, plastic, attic wood, vanilla, Bulgarian rose.

Evening Star - golden orbs of amber, cognac absolute, booze accord, cacao absolute*. *the cacao absolute WILL separate in oil form which is totally normal. Due to the expense of ingredients in this blend, this is ONLY available in extrait perfume forms.

Stranger Things - Eggo waffles, chocolate pudding, and upside-down cake.

Amityville – pumpkin pecan waffles, pumpkin brûlée, marshmallow, sugar cookie, vanilla bean noel, salted caramel popcorn balls.

------

Percy

Alexandrite - incense, blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, plum, strawberry, dark patchouli, oudh.

Banana Milk - sweet milk, melted ice cream, vanilla pudding mix, banana.

Opalite - confetti angelcake, topped with lemon whipped cream and a melty scoop of birthday cake batter ice cream.

Elemental - lush green cloverfields, dampened soil, petrichor, sunwarmed moss, wet pavement, ozone, rain-soaked thunderheads.

Spirit Temple - vanilla bean pods, Spiritueuse Double Vanille, nag champa incense.

Dreamweaver - sweet pillowy marshmallow, lavender, mugwort.

Cereal Marshmallows - cronchy, sugary, delicious. Also terrible for you, but OH WELL.

(allergen information - contains natural strawberry and raspberry isolates)

Green Musk - clean, lime, soapy, verdant.

Space Cakes - chocolate brownies, ganache frosting, cannabis.

------

Gordon

Ambre Vanille - premium warm amber accord and a swirl of rich, elevated vanillas.

Kentucky Bourbon & Woodsmoke - rich Kentucky bourbon, vanilla musk, teakwood, mahogany and light woodsmoke.

Leopardite - Mysore sandalwood, golden sandalwood powder, vanilla husk, chamois accord, Alaskan cedarwood, tobacco leaf, black oak, cardamom, saffron threads, miel blanc.

Chocolate Orange - dark, rich chocolate, and sweet clementine.

Baltic Amber - thick rivulets of golden amber, pinus succinifera, cedarwood, jammy fir absolute, oakmoss absolute, tree moss, verdant musk, cardamom, balsam, lightning-scorched ancient boughs.

Rumrunner - rum-soaked Cuban cigars, pipe smoke, whiskey, bourbon cream, caramelized sugar, bonfire.

Unbaptism - aged bourbon, dark rum, pumpkin purée, frankincense, Daemonorops draco resin, smouldering firewood embers.

Noir - tonka bean, tobacco leaf, vanilla, black cherry, pipe tobacco, maraschino, frankincense, myrrh, labdanum, Peru balsam, benzoin, sandalwood, black pepper, pink peppercorn, clove.

------

Henry

Garden Tea Party - petits fours, rooibos tea, lemon curd, rose petals, orange blossom.

Bubblypop - lemon, cola, ginger beer.

Morphine - Steamed milk, lavender buds, honeyed apricots, chamomile tea, honey, white amber.

Candied Violets - sugared violet.

Fleurs Blanches - tuberose, iris, tiaré, paperwhite narcissus, night-blooming jasmine.

Tomate - leafy, vine-ripe, garden-fresh tomatoes.

Laundromat - laundry soap, fabric softener, ozone, and coin-op washing machines.

Cloudbusting - wet earth/soil, ozone, petrichor, light hints of grass.

Thanatos - desiccated leaves, hedgerow blossoms, charred pinyon, aged cedarwood boughs, petrified tree sap, crisp fall air, laurel, clove bud, smoke-tinged balsam, santalum, and graveyard dirt.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Mission Shenanigans

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings | smut, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Word count | 2385

Summary | while on a mission undercover, you and Bucky are forced to share a bed. Very dirty things ensue

Masterlist

"If we're just pretending to be a couple, why do we have to actually sleep in the same bed? Do you really think they're going to break in and catch on of us sleeping on the sofa?" You scoffed, hands perched on your hips and as shook your head at the super soldier in front of you.

"Maybe." Bucky smirked, his answer short but almost full of a lingering promise of more. You rolled your eyes at him, itching to slap that cocky smirk off his face and also maybe accidentally let his cock slip into your mouth whilst doing so. Oops.

You couldn't help it, really. I mean, Bucky is gorgeous. He truly is a specimen, all muscles and cocky smirks and metal arms. Oh and the metal arm? You were dying to know how the metal felt against your skin, against your lips - your lower lips-

"You there doll?" You were grabbed from your little train of thoughts (sinful thoughts at that) by the man in front of you snapping his fingers in your face.

"S-sorry. Lost in thought. What were you saying?" You stuttered, cheeks flushing pink as you averted your gaze to a vase on the table that suddenly became awfully captivating.

"I said that we should go out and get some wood for the fire before it gets dark." Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes now when you hummed in agreement whilst nodding absent-mindedly.

You were on a mission to get some info on a potential lead on a rising HYDRA group in southern France. You were in a cabin like area near some forest that almost seemed out of place, posing as a young couple that was newly wed and wanted a honey moon abroad. So far you pulled off the part perfectly, playing the most stereotypically-American tourists in Europe you could be. You got overly excited at the smallest things, told everyone you spoke to that you adored their accent, insisted on eating at French restaurants only, and local ones of course.

It was the perfect ploy - the only downfall being Bucky's metal arm causing him to stick out like a sore-thumb. So the super soldier has been miserable in public, roasting in the summer sun whilst clad in leather gloves and long-sleeve shirts.

What you had failed to mention to him that the sight of droplets of sweat collecting along his brow and sliding slowly down his neck got you all hot and bothered. So hot and bothered, in fact, that you found yourself desperate to stick your hand between your legs to quell the growing ache blossoming there.

But you couldn't because Bucky was insisting that you both share a bed. Originally, you had just planned on taking the sofa in the other room and get yourself off but that plans obviously gone out the window.

"Right, well. We should go now." Bucky said, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled comfortably between you two. He grabbed your arm, tugging you out the small cabin and towards the woods.

So, three hours later, you found yourself full of food, groaning with the amount to had consumed. Chewing your last bite, you set your cutlery down on you plate, which was almost immediately swiped by Bucky.

"With cooking like that, you've just become my most dangerous friend, Barnes." You chided, a smile finding your face when he chuckled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling adorably. He set your plate with his in the sink, turning on the water and drizzling some dish soap into the basin. He sipped his hands quickly on a towel before discarding it on the work surface and turning to face you.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it, doll." He smiled, arms crossing over his chest. With the hot summer heat, he'd changed into a tank top almost the second you entered the cabin, so his bulging bicep was on display as well as that metal arm that you adored. His hair was thrown into a bun at the back of his head, a few framing pieces fallen out around his face and it made him look beautiful.

"I'm gonna go shower whilst you clean up." You suddenly announced, pushing up from your chair and bursting from the room. You walked swiftly down the hall, into the bedroom to grab a towel before you were entering the adjoining bathroom.

You moaned as the warm water soothed your aching muscles, the steam clouding up the bathroom as you hummed the song that'd been stuck in your head for god knows how long. Taking a deep sigh, you massaged the shampoo into your hair, the feeling of your nails scraping against your scalp a welcome one.

After washing the suds from your hair and wiping down your body with a sponge and some lemon scented soap, you shut the water off and pulled back the curtain of the shower. Careful not to trip as you stepped out of the tub, you grabbed the fluffy white towel sat waiting for you on the counter and patted your hair until it was only damp, before drying off your body. You wrapped the cloth around you, holding it up just above your breast, clutching it there so I didn't fall down as you tiptoed back into the bedroom.

The door whined is I opened, the handle banging against the wall as you crept into the room.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smirked, lounging on the bed and resting in his palms. Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you jumped slightly, the shock of seeing him there shirtless and with sweatpants handing loose over his hips caused your grip on the towel to stop long enough for it to fall. Bucky smoothed his tongue of his lip, biting down on it as his eyes roamed your body.

You were still in shock, not moving from where you stood, towel bundled at your feet and arms awkwardly by your sides. Bucky whistled, slowly standing and taking a few strides so he was stood in front of you.

"You look even better than I thought you would." He mumbled, licking his lips again before his hands found purchase on your hips. His eyes were searching you, blue edges fading as black lust petered out from his pupils. Your breathing was heavy, mind foggy but all you could comprehend was the half-naked super soldier stood in front of your naked form, hands - one comfortingly warm one chillingly cold - resting on the bare skin of your hips.

And I just made you needy and slick with want. And that had to be the cause of the words that found themselves upon your lips. Your eyes flickered between his and his lips - his soft, plump pink lips - that were just begging you to kiss them.

"If you don't kiss me in the next three second I'm going to scream." You murmured and he breathed a laugh through his nose before his lips crashed to yours in a lustful, earth-shattering kiss. Bucky's hands travelled over your sides, squeezing your waist before going higher until one wrapped around your neck possessively, using the grip he had to walk you back until your back came into contact with the door you had entered from, his metal hand bracing against the wood for support.

Your moan let him know it was exactly what you wanted and Bucky tightened his grip slightly on your neck, a gentle squeeze to test the waters that had you groaning against his lips. He tilted his head to the side, feeling the kiss even further. It was a dirty, messy, sloppy thing - all teeth and tongue and unadulterated desire. When his lips finally left yours, they trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses over your throat and your collar bone. A hand found it's way between your quaking legs, finding nothing by slick and slippery skin as the tips brushed through the collecting wetness at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the feeling, letting his digits dance through the liquid before one was slipping into your quivering hole.

"Bucky!" You gasped, hands reaching up, grabbing and clawing at his shoulders for purchase as his thumb connected with your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked violently into his hand, a low and rumbling chuckle falling from those perfect, pink lips. Another finger entered you, both of them curling - curling just right, hitting that spot deep within you.

You came with a  cry and shaky legs, your body falling limply into Bucky's as he retracted his fingers, revelling in the wanton look in your eyes as he licked them clean.

"Delicious." He hummed, pulling off his fingers with a pop. Before you could protest, the brunet had scooped you into his arms, hoisting up up with his hands under your ass - groping and squeezing as he pinned you to the wall with his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck by now, fingers tangling into his long, brown hair as his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, Bucky, please." You begged, but you weren't really sure what you were asking for.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispered in your ear, a moan slipping past your lips. "You want me to fuck you in the middle of a mission like a whore?" He husked and you moaned even louder - knowing the word should offend you but it did anything but, the combined sensation of his hot breath fanning over your cheeks, his prominent bulge pressed to your folds and his hands resting on your bare sides overwhelming your senses. His hands moved down, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats before he was pulling away slightly, pushing them and his boxers down his legs eagerly. You brought a hand down too, letting your fingers trail over his abs before you were marvelling at his cock - hard and leaking, red tip curved up against his stomach - which was now smeared with Previn that you were desperate to lick off. But he wouldn't let you from his grasp.

Instead, you both let out a moan when your small hand wrapped around Bucky's cock, Bucky shivering slightly at the coldness of you palm. He kissed you again hard, tongue smoothing over your lips before it was pushing its way into your mouth, tangling with yours and stroking over the muscle in languid strokes. You fisted his hair, relishing in the groan he let out as you tugged. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction, but pulled away to squeal his thumb flitted over your clit again.

Bucky moaned when his tip ran through your wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with your core. Bucky leant in, pecking your lips.

"Ready?" He mumbled and you moaned his name, letting out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside of you in one sharp thrust.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You moaned and he let his thumb rest on your clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the knot in your stomach forms already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into yours.

"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl" He murmured, forehead resting against your as he begun to thrust. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. His breath was hot on your cheeks, eyes keeping yours prisoner and a small layer of sweat coated your faces.

The whole scene was erotic, so it only pushed your further to the edge when he began moaning and groaning, your own sounds vibrating around the room. Your fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast against your flushed and hot skin.

"Good girl." He moaned, the praise sending a new wave of wetness tumbling down to your core, his cock pushing in and out of you effortlessly now with how much lubrication you were supplying. Bucky's hand moved from the door, fingers wrapping a round your throat again and pushing your head back against the wood.

"This pussy's gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart, so fuckin' hard." He mumbled into the skin of your neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at your jaw line. You knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but you couldn't care less in that moment as your walls began to clamp down on his in a vice grip.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull, his pace picking up as he tried to push you to your release.

When you came it was a mind-shattering orgasm, eyes rolling back and hips bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around his waist.

"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now as he used you for his own pleasure. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in you in hot spurts.

Your breaths mingled, the smell of sex invading your senses as you head dropped forward to lean against Bucky's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Buck, that was-" you panted.

"Amazing? The best sex of your life?" He supplied, hand massaging your hip as you both calmed down.

"Something like that." You giggled. He chuckled too, and you gasped as he felt him thrust shallowly into you again. How was he already hard again? You figured that the serum must have affected everything. You groaned, and Bucky smirked down at you.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, walking with you in his grasp over to the bed.

"If anyone does break in tonight, they're in for one hell of a show." You smiled weakly, Bucky dropping you into the sheets and crawling over you.

"They sure are, Doll."

[unholyhelbig]

Title: Centerfold [Pt.2]

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

(Read Part one here)

Beca Mitchell’s phone was a box of constant communication. She had her emails redirected so that she could feel every single time she needed to address something at the office, even if she was there and the soft pinging culminated in the very screen she stared at. She had a multitude of contacts and would video chat with the team in Italy, and sometimes L.A.

So, what she knew deep down, was that it was impossible for her not to look at her phone all day. Physically she had to check the notifications to keep her world running. Emily intercepted most of them, keeping her deep stare on her own screen before glancing up at her boss every couple of minutes. They were both on edge and Beca didn’t much appreciate the tension that sparked between them.

She held her breathe each time a new ping sounded off until eventually that lull of anxiety was hushed to a dull ache in the pit of her chest. She went through her morning meets and a new presentation to her team about how their coding for a new watch wasn’t up to parr- they had a few days to fix it before it dropped, and the CEO made sure she knew that.

When the notification from Chloe did finally come through, Beca almost didn’t’ notice. She registered the pink of the logo that slowly shifted to a deep purple. But the name? Oh, the name she hadn’t clocked for a few seconds after that. And even then, Chloe Beale? Her Chloe, actually responded.

Beca lilted the computer screen and frantically looked up at Emily, who was already at her door. She didn’t bother to knock. Instead, she situated the office and closed the blinds and very coolly, but not so coolly, pressed her back against the wood and breathed.

“Dude,” Beca said.

“I know,” Emily said “Did you read it?”

She hadn’t read it. She hadn’t even thought to read it because her mind got stuck behind the massive roadblock that was Chloe Beale and her stupid pun username. She opened the application and hesitated over the message icon. She was supposed to be playing it hard to get like she didn’t’ care if she even got a response. But she did care and apparently so did her assistant because she was right behind her, blindly gawking like her halo fell into her eyes and blinded her from right and wrong.

“If I click this she’ll see that I read it and then there’s no going back.”

“You don’t want to go back, do you?”

“You told me to keep her guessing,”

“Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d even get a response.” Emily shrugged sheepishly “Figured you would forget about it in a few days and… open it.”

Beca frowned but hovered the mouse over the message. She wanted to close her eyes but felt like she was watching a car accident, complete with the red and blue flashing lights and the metallic crunch of metal. Either way, she couldn't avert her stare. She didn’t want to.

Chloe: Hey stranger. I must admit that I was never expecting to hear from you again, big shot manager. I’ve kept my tabs on you… New York is my home, so if you’re serious about coffee, so am I.

Her breath caught in her throat. Chloe Fucking Beale had said yes. Her childhood love had agreed to coffee that neither of them could probably stomach. Chloe Fucking Beale who was a playboy model with more than a million Instagram followers, and Chloe Fucking Beale who she was pretty sure she still loved.

There had been other people, men, and women that she had thought she fell for. She folded into soft touches and stronger commands. She was happy for months at a time and on one rare occasion a full year with a man who ran his own tours of the city. But none of those relationships had ever been like the one she had with Chloe.

Beca pulled in a long breath that filled her lungs with stale coffee and copy paper. She tilted her lid and looked to Emily because she was the expert. And Beca was frozen. That same cold excitement filled her and it also rocked her ever-loving shit. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.

Emily looked at the darkened screen, then at her boss, then back at the screen before lunging forward and typing back a reply. Perfect. Are you free this Saturday?

It turns out that Chloe was free that Saturday and if she wasn’t, she didn’t’ say a word and quietly cleared her schedule. The day was quickly approaching and Beca really wanted to know why the New York Branch put her in charge of everything when she could barely figure out what to wear to a simple cup of coffee.

This felt more like a simple cup of coffee.

Emily eventually got tired of the barrage of pictures she was getting and took a cab to Beca’s apartment an hour before the actual date. They settled on black jeans and a blue button-down that Emily pulled closer to her chest for extra measure because according to her “You look good in anything and Chloe won’t be able to make eye contact with you.”

Then she was on a subway that smelled like stale snow and hot morning breath. They picked a small shop downtown that not many people knew about. It was a feat in the city to find a place that wasn’t packed like a sardine can and Beca trusted Chloe’s judgment tenfold.

Beca got there first, and her palms were sweating despite the cool atmosphere that swept through the little shop each time the door opened. It was a meta cross between a thrifted bookstore and a café. People sat and ate and read and the scent of what Beca imagined old magic to be, mingled well with coffee grinds and fresh pastries.

She ordered a simple black americano and settled by the front window, the glass fogged from a warm contrast with the cold of the busy street and curved lettering faced the patrons. There was a simple logo and one barista behind the counter. She chose a random book and pretended to read, but only skimmed the same paragraph over and over again.

Her main focus was on the door and the bell that chimed each time it was opened. One of those times, after a businessman and a hipster kid hugging his laptop close to his chest, it was Chloe. Soft and vibrant compared to the rest of the dim academic setting.

Her hair was pulled behind her ears and a pair of golden framed glasses rested on her nose. She had aged like wine and the wind that blew in behind her carried the sweet scent of southern peaches through the front door. She wore a white sweater with a plaid peacoat and high wasted jeans, and Beca knew she was staring.

Everyone was, they couldn’t’ help it. She overtook the room with a warm and sparked presence. If anyone recognized her they didn’t’ say a thing, out of saving their own face or because the girl in the centerfold of the latest playboy was wildly different than the one standing in front of her. This… this was her Chloe.

She didn’t’ know if she could hug Chloe, if touching was okay, but as she stood to greet her, she was pulled into the warmth of the woman. She was wrapped in overwhelming touch and emotion and she buried her nose into Chloe’s hair as they held onto each other, not quite willing to let go of the familiarity before realizing that it was inappropriate not to.

“Wow,” Chloe ran her hands down Beca’s arms, stopping at her elbows “You haven’t aged a day, have you?”

“It’s the lighting in here, I think it’s one step up from basement overhead.”

Chloe laughed and it was a magical sound. The only thing more intoxicating was her smile, which never seemed to leave her lips as she ordered her own drink, something loaded with sugar and caramel, and leaned forward across the table to get a better look at her date.

Beca sipped her coffee and quirked an eyebrow “What?”

“I haven’t seen you in ten years, I think it’s perfectly acceptable for me to study you.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” She tested “What have you been up to all these years?”

Chloe leaned back in her seat and cupped her mug. It was a russet red and steam rose from the pale liquid that soaked inside. There was a sickeningly sweet odor to it and part of Beca regretted ordering nothing but a black coffee. It seemed like a disservice to the atmosphere of the shop.

“Oh, a bunch of stuff here and there. I used to be based out of LA, I did a lot of acting there. Little stuff like soap operas and a couple of commercials. It wasn’t for me, though so I moved here to pursue modeling and it’s been going well. Really well.”

Beca didn’t’ want to mention the playboy magazine or the curve of Chloe’s legs and the way her skin shown under the bright summer sun. She never returned it to Jason because he never asked for it back. It was an unspoken solidarity between the two.

“That’s amazing,” Beca smiled, feeling excitement in her chest “Anything I would recognize?”

Chloe hummed into her drink “Mm, maybe a few things. It depends on how you feel about Playboy. I never thought you were much of a reader.”

Beca looked down dejectedly at the old spined book to her right. It was true, she hadn’t read the Catcher in the Rye and she barely got through the introduction paragraph because of the nerves and the heartbeat that beat so strongly against the inside of her wrist right now.

“I’m not usually. But I do enjoy looking at the pictures.” Beca flicked her stare back towards the woman across from her “Though, that��s not the reason I reached out to you.”

“Truth is, I’ve always wanted to message you, but you looked like you were doing so well. Like you were so happy. I didn’t want to throw you off or seem like I was chasing something that we used to have.” She said, “So I waited.”

It was Beca’s turn to laugh, “I felt the same exact way. We’re both pretty stupid, then huh? Waiting like this for something we knew… for something we knew we wanted.”

Chloe smiled wider and clinked her mug against Beca’s yellow one, not spilling any of the mostly full drink. “To being stupid. And getting to know each other all over again.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They sat and talked until they were the only two in the coffee shop and Beca even dared to kiss Chloe when they got to the subway platform.  She tasted like caramel and sunshine if such a thing was even possible.

But it was because she had found Chloe. Centerfold Chloe. High school Chloe, and most importantly, her Chloe.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 4. Bow Boy

First | Previous | Next

After way too many chapters the reader will now meet our favorite archer. 

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

 if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In the weeks that followed you had become adept at moving through the dead. You had set up a little place closer in the city for yourself, complete with a crappy veggie garden on the roof of an apartment complex for yourself. Only Tomatoes, Onions, and Lettuce seemed to grow up there but it was better than nothing. You had built up a steady collection of books, turning one of the abandoned apartments into a library. You treated the zombie books as if they were comedy. ‘If only they knew’ you’d think looking at your wardrobe which consisted of some comfortable pieces to lounge around your hideout in and a bucket of cloths stewing in guts for when you went out. It proved beneficial to leave the home smelling freshly dead.

You were trying to build up a collection of canned food, meant to get you through the winter, but it wasn’t enough and with your last crop failing you knew it was back to foraging for at least the next three months. You had an old calendar broken up and spread across your floor. If you could fit seven cans on each page then you’d be fine...but seven cans was all you had, not including the dog food. The only good thing is that food was the only thing you had a hard time coming up with.

You were wandering through the streets again in your walker gear, your bag empty, aside from some old seed mix you took from the pet store. The snow had begun to fall making being discrete more difficult as the dead would often get stuck or fall over, which wasn’t an option for you. ‘Maybe when it gets heavy I can wear my normal clothes.’ you thought.

It was no use, the sun was setting, and traveling deeper into town would prove a fruitless effort if you got caught by the dead. You backtracked to a bank. The doors were broken and bloodied and ripped sleeping bags lined the ground, but what you came here for was the boards on the windows. You ripped some filling from a sleeping bag, shoving it into your ruck-sack, and moved to the windows.

You got the first board down but the click of a gun stopped your movements. “Turn around. Slowly” a man with a southern accent spoke. You did as he said, turning around with your hands raised. To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Before you stood Rick Grimes, along with a man with a crossbow and a woman with dark hair pulled into a tight pony, pointing a familiar rifle at you.

“Hey...Rick was it?” you nodded to the woman “Glad to see you got some use out of that rifle.” It took a moment for it to dawn on Rick who you were, at which he couldn’t contain his chuckle at your overly friendly attitude.

“I didn’t recognise you with all that filth on your face, then again I never got your name.”

“I have reasons to prefer it that way,” you smiled at him.

“Look, can you leave those blanks? We need to camp here for the night.” He asked, not putting his gun down, but you didn’t judge.

“I need the wood,”

“Let’s just kill her” the man spoke up, stepping closer then visually wincing. You looked him over quickly and noticed his leg was bleeding badly.

“Your hurt,” you spoke, locking eyes with the man. After a glance over the rest of them, it seemed they had been through a war. Maybe that’s why they decided to stay “I can help with that if you let me. I have a safe house not too far from here.” you said, nodding to the man behind Rick. “In return you guys just gotta help me carry up some planks to make a fire.”

“No” the woman behind Rick spoke.

“Yes,” Rick interjected. He turned to his group, his back to you which seemed to make them trail their weapons on your head. You took a step back for their sake. “If she says she can patch Daryl up then she can.”

“Why do you trust her?” the woman asked, not taking her eyes or aim off of you for a second.

“It’s a long story,” he whispered “But we’re cold and exposed out here. So I say we take her up on the offer.”

“Can I go back to getting my wood now?” you interrupted them. “It’s getting late and it’s hard to navigate in the dark”

“Yeah,” Rick said, turning back to you. You turned and started pulling the planks off the windows, now with Rick’s help. The other two took a moment to join you too, pulling a couple planks off the wall. Between yourself and Rick you had a few days worth of wood, while the woman was busy helping the second man who was limping. You lead them down to an old red-brick building, leading them to the entrance to the basement.

“It’s ten flours up,” you said, unlocking the gate and motioning the group to go down. “You’ll sleep like babies after.” Once inside the planks were offloaded onto you to carry the second man up the floors. Once on your floor, you dropped the planks onto the ground, finding an oil-lamp in the moonlight and turning it on. The group looked even more exhausted now. You held out the lamp to Rick and nodded to the door to your left. “My bed’s in there. Get him laid out. I’ll be on the roof.” he took the lamp from you. You grabbed two planks and walked past them “Don’t take my food there’s not enough” you called as you passed them.

You opened up the roof, finding what was left of your garden, some plastic boxes collecting snow, and a fire pit you had jerry-rigged out of a sheet of metal, an old lamp, and a punch of wire hangers twirled to suspend a pot that had filled with snow. You grabbed the hatchet you had found from it’s space by the door and got the filling from your bag and started a fire using a lighter. As it burned you went back to the entrance way to the roof, where you kept the bucket of guts for your walker gear and a small cupboard with clean clothes in it and some pieces of cloth. By the time you had peeled off the layers, the snow had turned to water. You poured some out into a neighbouring pot full of snow, cooling it.

As you were washing the gunk off your skin and out of your hair you heard the door open. It was the woman. “I’m so sorry” she yelped, closing the door.

“What is it?” you yelled just before she closed it again.

“We were wondering what was taking you” she answered. “You didn’t mention you were bathing.” you wiped the blood from your arms, your skin reacting to the sudden heat and cold.

“There’s a pot on the stove in my kitchen. Can you bring it up?” you called. She replied positively before fully closing the door. By the time she came back you were fully clean and redressed in some red pants, a black shirt, a yellow hoodie, and a pair of slip-on shoes you’d designated as your house shoes. She held the pot from behind the door, you walked over and opened the door, finding her with her eyes closed. “I’m dressed,” you said, taking the pot. You got some snow from the bins and emptied the last of the water into the new pot. You picked it up.

“I’m Tara, by the way” she spoke up as you walked back towards her.

“I didn’t ask” you replied, walking past her “close the door” you were down one flight of stairs with her behind you when you stopped short, looking over your shoulder. “Sorry, it’s just...safer to not exchange names.” Tara nodded at you

“No, I get it.” she smiled at you meekly. The two of you continued down the stairs. “How do you know Rick?”

“I tried to kill him,” you said plainly, pushing your door open to see Rick and the other man, now sitting on the couch. “I thought I told you the bed.” You said, putting the pot of hot water on the coffee table. “Where’s the wound?”

“His calf,” Rick replied, watching you walk into the kitchen. You threw open one of the presses and to the shock of the other three, it was over flowing with medical supplies. You grabbed a familiar first-aid kid, a bottle of antibiotics, some bandage, and gauze.

“Great. Take off your pants.” You unintentionally slammed the doors closed “Or just roll up the leg of your jeans. Either way, I need a look at it.” The man bent over and rolled up the jean leg.

“Where did you find all that stuff?” Rick asked. You picked up the man’s leg and placed it on the coffee table, shoving the pant leg up.

“Around” you replied as you cleaned the matted blood from the wound. It was a rather deep cut and it didn’t look good. “You’re gonna need stitches, and I’m gonna have to open it up more.”

“The hell you mean open it up more!” The man shouted

“To make sure it’s clean, numb-nuts. How’d you get this?”

“We jumped out of an office window” Tara spoke up. “Daryl got caught on the fire escape.” Now that made you laugh. That fragile-looking man, that baby-faced girl, and this rough-looking redneck is the one that gets hurt.

“Old steal.” you signed dramatically “I gotta clean it properly.” you spoke, opening the first aid kit to show it full of medical tools. Mainly single-use tweezers and scissors. You took some scissors and cut up some gauze, “It’s gonna hurt. Need a towel to bite on?” you asked, using a pair of tweezers to pick up the gaze and soak it in the steaming water.

“Fuck you” Daryl cursed. You positioned your free hand over the wound, pushing it open slightly, causing him to wince.

“As you wish” you cut back before focusing on cleaning the wound. He took it like a champ and you had him bandaged in no time. You dumped the water out the window when you were done. You laughed to yourself as it hit a walker and he grumbled up at you. You didn’t pay attention to their conversation until they pulled you into it.

“How many walkers have you killed?” Rick called over to you. You closed the window and walked back into the sitting room of the apartment,

“Why?”

“Please just answer the question,” Rick spoke quietly. You leaned against a hall and took a deep breath

“I don’t know... a lot”

“How many people have you killed?” he asked. You thought on it a moment and remembered the lady you sent a walker on back at Sanctuary

“One”

“Why?”

“She tried to kill me first”

The three of them looked amongst themselves as if reading each other’s minds. “We have a place-”

“No” you stopped Rick, knowing what was coming next. “I am not going to your camp, and you're not staying here. Tomorrow morning you will leave, and I will stay,” you spoke firmly

“It’s not a camp,” Tara spoke up from where she was sitting on the couch next to Daryl. “It’s a community. We have walls.”

“I’m not going” you spoke slowly, making sure every word was heard. You pushed off the wall and walked past the living area towards your bedroom. “Next door is my library. There’s another bed and a couch. Just don’t take my shit.” you closed the door and locked it for good measure. ‘They’ll take my supplies’ you thought as you crawled into bed, pulling the blankets as closely around you as possible, ‘but they won’t take me’.

The following morning you woke to see your patient out cold on your couch, with his friends on the floor covered in the blankets from the library. It was still dark out, as expected in the winter season, but you still wanted them gone. You walked past him to your door, remembering you’d left your bag on the roof. Everything up there was still in its place too.

Back in your apartment, you prepared a wonderful breakfast; half a can of soup, and some seed mix in a bowl. It tasted like crap but you knew it would fill you for the next while. “Thought you said there was no food” Daryl piped up from the couch. You turned your back to him.

“Not enough for more people” you retorted, slurping down your cold soupy-seedy mix.

“How long have you been out here?” He asked.

“Some time” you said through gulps

“Where were you before this?”

“Someplace else” you snapped, scraping the last of the mix into your mouth. Silence fell for a moment.

“Why did you help us?” he asked. You looked down into the old metal sink as if it had the answers. You used to do the same with the neck of a vodka bottle at sanctuary. They never had the answers. ‘Old soldiers don’t forget their training?’ you thought

“I don’t know” is what you said.

The other two woke not long after. Rick looked at your cabinet than at you before approaching you. Before he could speak you opened it up and pulled out two changes of bandages. “For Daryl,” you said, “Now get out.”

Three days later you were coming back to your home from another run, finding some clothes and chocolate powder but no food. With the seeds, you could stretch your rations to another week but it was still tight. That was when you saw a small pile of cans in front of your door. Eight in total. Soups, peas, beans, apple sauce. Among the cans, you found a small note. ‘From Alexandria’ it read. You thought of the ramifications that might have to your security and how that they’ll probably pay a price for not having enough food for your father this week, then one of the tins read /FAVOURITE SOUP/ and your stomach won over, demanding you to start a fire this minute and warm that can of delicious right up!

You were grateful for the first time. Alarmed the second time. Tired of it by the third time. They would come every week with cans and tins of food. When you expected the next delivery ‘from Alexandra’ you stayed home, sitting on the floor watching the door. The sun had been up a while and you were certain they weren’t coming when you heard heavy steps, followed by the sound of tin knocking off each other. You opened the door quickly, startling the delivery man in the process.

“Howdy, Bow Boy” you spoke to Daryl who had the bow pointed at your face. “What’re you doing?” Daryl slid his crossbow back into place.

“ugh...Feeding ya?” he said, a little embarrassed about getting caught. “I figured you’d be out, scavenging.”

“I usually am but some homeless-looking guy keeps bringing me food” you smiled sarcastically.

“Well he sounds like a gentleman,” he said, picking up the cans and offering one to you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, closing your eyes in annoyance.

“You need it,” he spoke plainly. You pushed your door open and motioned for him to follow.

“Put the cans on the coffee table” you said, going to your medical supplies and pulling some things out and placing them on the counter. “I am not taking any more charity. We are going to trade.” He looked over what you were pulling out.

“Are you sure?” he asked. You nodded sternly.

“You ain’t leaving me short, so I ain’t gonna leave you short. That’s the terms.” you held out your hand to him. “Deal?”

You parted with a lot of medical supplies, some soaps, two blankets, and a box of cutlery. You would have given him more but he couldn’t fit any more in his bag. You’d just have to find him better stuff next time.

Riding into the Sanctuary on his bike, Daryl was greeted by some saviours. He emptied his bag, claiming to have found the pieces. Everyone was overjoyed at the supplies and the fresh blankets went to Rodney and his new-born. Heading back to his quarters he was approached by Lauren. “Daryl! Daryl, it happened again. Some asshole robbed some of our cans”

~ Tag List ~

@softsebastian​

[faceachefics]

Silver Souvenir

Pair: Severen x Reader

Summary: Severen visits you for the first time in a while and you surprise him with a pair of rings for both of you to wear. Little did you know, he was “allergic” to silver.

Word Count: 1425

    It was 6:32 a.m., and the sun was making its way over the horizon. You were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast when you heard a knock at the door. Who would show up to your house at this ungodly hour? A few seconds go by and there was another knock. You huffed and went over to the front door. This had better be important.

    You were greeted with a dark-haired man with a pin-covered leather jacket. Before you could process this familiar face, he shouted “Hey, beautiful!” and tightly embraced you. He spun you around to the side of the doorway and invited himself in. His southern drawl and smoky musk made you one hundred percent confident it was—

    “Severen?” You questioned your assumed acquaintance. His eyes brightened when he heard the name.

    “I knew you’d remember me, baby!” He had that same enthusiasm, too. He paced to the doorway and signaled someone to come in. “Hope you don’t mind me n’ my pals crash here for the day.” Pals? As in there was more than one person with him? The previous times he came to your house, he was alone.

    He said he had been driving all night and was looking for a place to stay. You were intimidated by him but let him in anyway. The stranger slept all day and talked to you during the first couple hours of nighttime. Although, the conversations were more focused on you than him. You didn’t know much about him other than his “family” and their travels. He didn’t have much else to give away other than a couple experiences from his childhood. With each visit you became more attached to him, especially since they were each a month or two apart.

    “Won’t you be so kind as to shut the curtains for me?” Severen asked in a sweet tone. You snapped out of your daze and silently fulfilled his request. As you closed the curtains, you saw four people hop out of an RV. You couldn’t quite make out their appearances through the blankets they were covered in.

    “Uh…” You looked over at Severen with knit brows. “I didn’t know you’d bring guests this time.”

    “Sorry to cause ya trouble this early,” He sympathized. “We just need a place to sleep an’ we’ll be outta your hair same time as always.” Severen was known to be a prick to humans regardless of whether they were food or not. However, he could be a gentleman when he wanted to. You were kind enough to let him in and offer him some food and drinks every now and then. Not only that, but you were interesting to talk to, and through these conversations he learned a lot about you: routine, birthday, beliefs, childhood, hobbies, past relationships, and the people who wronged you. He felt bad he could only share a few details about himself, but he couldn’t give away anything that would lead you to the realization that he wasn’t human.

    You watched as the four new strangers power walked into the house and made their way to your living room. They took off their blankets and you were finally able to get a better look at them. One was an older man with a rust-colored jacket and a Y-shaped scar on his cheek. The woman close to him had puffy, blonde hair and wore chaps over her high-waisted jeans. There was also a moody, dark-haired boy with them, along with a short-haired, blonde with a pink, sleeveless top. They each looked back at you, almost sizing you up. This group was infinitely more intimidating than Severen alone.

    “W-… would any of you like something to eat or drink?” You stuttered, trying to ease the growing tension in the air.

    “We’re fine,” The older man replied in a stern voice. Meanwhile, Severen was already in the kitchen helping himself to the bottle of whiskey you bought a couple weeks ago. It made him even happier knowing you were still thinking about him, waiting for him to come back. He drank straight from the bottle since you never took too much of it. Whiskey was strong for you, but to him it was merely as strong as liquor.

     The group had already settled on the couch and lounge chair, which barely fit all four of them. Severen wandered around the house, bottle in hand, with you close behind. He was the only one in the bunch you were familiar with, the only one you felt safe around. He found it cute that you were accompanying him. You were like a puppy following its favorite person around.

    Ever since you met, he knew you were the most precious lil’ thing he laid eyes on.

    Severen opened a door and found your bedroom. “Mind if I sleep here?” You shook your head. He had slept in your bed one time when he was drunk, but he didn’t bother undressing. This time, however, he set the whiskey on the nightstand and took off his jacket, as well as the red flannel shirt underneath. He turned his head to you and caught you staring. “Like what ya see?” He snickered as you quickly looked away and blushed. He sat at the edge of the bed to take off his spurs and boots. Then, you remembered something.

    “Oh!” You realized. “I almost forgot about these.” You rummage through your nightstand drawer and pulled out a small box. Severen paused and watched you open the box before him. Inside were two rings: one had a black stripe around it, and the other was thinner with a rose gold stripe. His eyes lit up, but anxiety  started settling in when he noticed how pale the metal was than the steel he already wore on his fingers. That was not steel. It was sterling silver.

    “Aww Y/N,” He responded. “You shouldn’t have!” No, seriously. You shouldn’t have. He hoped to God you weren’t going to make him wear it. That was when you offered him the black-striped ring. Dammit. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, since those rings probably cost you a big chunk of money. Not only that, but you got them for you and him. How could he refuse such a gift?

    “I thought you’d like a little souvenir,” You grinned as he hesitantly took the ring. It was hot to the touch. “As a reminder of me while you were gone.” As if that lovestruck cowboy didn’t think about you enough. He wished he could see you more often, or that you could come along with him, but you were too innocent to turn to a life of murder.

    “Yeah?” Severen began as he quickly put the ring on his left ring finger. “Shit, next thing I know you’re gonna propose to me.” That earned a giggle from you, and he couldn’t help but smile at that. Knowing how happy he was making you almost distracted him from burning sensation on his finger. He looked down and saw a faint steam rise from his skin. He had to take this thing off now.

    “C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and urgently took all the rings off behind your back. “Thanks, baby. That means a lot to me.” He pulled away and set the items down on the nightstand. With an arm around your waist, Severen rolled over on the bed, and now you two were lying next to each other face-to-face. “Daylight’s gettin’ brighter. If I stay up too long, they’re gonna leave without me.” He snickered with the last part.

    You turned over to get up off the bed, but Severen had an unusually strong hold of you. “Hey now, where you goin’?”

    “Well I still need to get ready for the day,” You replied. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to stay with him.

    “C’mon, hun,” He yawned, pulling you closer. “You can put it off for a couple hours.” This was a first-time experience for you, being this close… this intimate with Severen. You might as well enjoy it while you could. You shifted back down on the bed and curled up against him. He lifted his hand to stroke your hair. It was so soft, just like everything else. This was the closest to heaven he was ever going to get, and he wanted to cherish it for as long as he had you. Maybe it could last longer if you lived forever, too.

    One day, Y/N. One day.

[captain-cerrillo]

(its all a set up for smut don't let me deceive you lol)

It was weird to be at the point in his career where he was beginning to spend more time behind a screen than on the ground. Though, it had always been the ultimate goal. The Paladin and the Captain were almost like two different people inside of him. He thought of blue eyes and wondered how many other selves he had tucked away inside.

Eva appeared in his office not nearly as much as he wanted her to but, infinitely more than he had expected. It was a jolt to the heart every time. He wanted to see her forever. He smiled at her expressions as she took in the large glowing datamap projected from the holotable between them.

“Not a scientist.” Isaac huffed a breathy chuckle, gesturing lightly between them. “Just a bit of a nerd.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

He made a few shorthand gestures to navigate the hundreds of datapoints mapped in a three-dimensional landscape of information. With a thematic swooshing motion, it jumped to a close-up view of a section of ranges in blue. A cluster of particular points made what looked like a mountaintop in the pixelated scenery. Isaac gestured lightly. “Here’s you.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed and she bent to study the chart more closely. Telekinesis, kinetic fields, and spatial distortion - the Alliance’s golden trifecta of biotic classification. “Are we being studied?”

The thought surprised him and he shifted his weight, suddenly unsure. “Honestly? Probably.” He watched the weight of it settle over her, although he got the distinct impression that she was neither surprised or particularly concerned. “Officially, I don’t have any reason to say yes. Unofficially, I know the people that I work with.” He gestured to the map of data in front of him.

"You know.” He glanced to her, hesitating as he considered. “Sometimes the soldiers call biotics wizards and, while maybe insensitive, I'm not sure it's wrong." He gestured again to move the datamap to a wider section.

"This is the little one." In a sea of blue, a line of teal green spikes stood out. Eva looked away from the landscape only to take in the way he put his hands on his hips, brown eyes heavy and far away in thought. "These are just the base readings that the shuttle picked up on our last run.”

Eva watched his face as he studied the mountain of information, wondering what he was looking for. “Isaac.”

His eyes lifted to hers and he didn’t want to talk about the data anymore.

“Here.” He activated his omnitool and Eva watched it glow softly, casting shades of orange across his face as he tapped a quick input and then extended an open hand to her across the table.

Eva returned the motion to let her ‘tool capture whatever he’d transferred, then studied the small display. A line of characters from different languages - common, binary, and foreign all mixed together – danced across the screen.

“What is this?”

“An access code.”

“An access code to?”

“My quarters,” he replied quickly, coolly and confidently, just before he realized, once again and way behind schedule, that normal people would automatically assume that was a sexual proposition. He panicked.

“But not for- To talk!" He blurted, almost sputtering the words before pausing to breathe, allowing himself a heartbeat to collect his thoughts. “I just meant to talk. I just want to talk to you...” He gestured to the sterile, accessible office around them. “…comfortably.”

Eva’s eyes sparkled and Isaac’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “Only if you want to. Eva, I-”

Eva's mouth had just fallen open to respond when the door behind her slid open. Luca, Davis, and then Harris almost fell through.

"Captain!"

Luca always started with an exclamation so Isaac waited for the spiel, genuinely curious about what could have sent the entertaining trio running to his office. His posture quickly stiffened, brows knitting tightly together when he realized, realistically, what sorts of shenanigans could have sent them running to his office.

"Is this a one or two door problem?" Isaac asked, referencing an old conversation.

(Isaac had pulled Luca aside early on to share a situational assessment technique his mentor had taught him years before – a solid, reliable, and easy way to distinguish true emergencies from the multitudes of mundane would-be stressors that were bound to come up on a spaceship in the middle of a war.)

"Um." Luca shook his hair out of his face as he considered. "Two."

"Okay. Good.” The captain felt genuine relief and his curiosity bubbled. He’d apparently lost every bit of necessary emotional distance, he mused as he watched the trio bumble over themselves and wondered what he was about to agree to.

"What were you- were you busy?" Harris asked – interrupting but, as innocent in intent as she was emotionally intrusive. Her big brown eyes studied Eva, who only stared her down in silence.

Isaac tried not to smile. "Almost always. But how can I help?" His eyes smiled for him.

“Luca tinkered with the projector in the conference room trying to set up a stupid Blasto-fest date night with that Phoe-” Harris’ eyes widened at Isaac as her mouth snapped shut, suddenly remembering all of the times the captain had specifically asked to never hear the word Phoenix in reference to a request.

Luca turned three shades of red and squealed a little, realizing he really needed to get better at learning to hide.

“And he broke it and you need to approve the replacement requisition before the meeting with Captain Sharon from the SSV Belgrade next week,” Ensign Davis chimed in with refreshing practicality, holding her ever-present datapad.

“Hey!” Luca whined. He reminded Isaac of a puppy. “That’s not exactly what-”

“Requisition. On it. Anything else?”

Harris and Luca shared a heavy look that made Isaac furrow his brow. They both looked to Davis who shook her head NO and the pair visibly deflated.

“I don’t even want to know.” He cast a weary glance between them. “Anything else?”

-

Isaac thought of Marie as he pressed a selection of shining buttons on his shower wall to start the steaming hot stream. He’d always been fond of the Sentinel in an abstract, if not brotherly way, but it was newly heartwarming to see her come into her own as a Commander on the Berlin.

He peeled his crisp blue shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the corner of the room’s wide bed before working on his belt buckle as he toed off his shoes next to a small closet. While it would have been ridiculous to say that the Captain’s Quarters almost made the whole job worth it, it wasn’t too untrue, he thought with a small smile when he finally slipped under the hot water.

Isaac’s career gave him enough variety that he preferred to keep his personal routines the same. He used the same soap he’d grown up with – handmade with rosemary, black pepper and goat’s milk from a local farmer on Terra Nova – because it smelled like home for as long as the fresh shower scent lasted. It was one of the few things he’d made a point to ask of the Requisitions Officer before disembarking.

The scent carried on the shower’s thick steam air out of the little metal bathroom and into the open space of the bedroom. Eva noticed that first as she stepped across the threshold into a place she probably should not have been. Isaac rounded the little bathroom’s corner and they both froze.

“Is this a bad time? I can go-“

“Maybe… don’t?” Isaac blurted, grateful for the fact that his loose grey shorts were already on as he finished pulling a plain black t shirt over his damp skin. He slicked his wet hair back with a self-conscious smile. He couldn’t tell her what to do but he really hoped she’d want to stay.

-

He’d noticed her absentmindedly trying to stretch her sore legs and her eyes twinkled when he sat his datapad down to clap his hands against his lap in invitation. Although it had seemed perfectly natural and not at all blatantly inappropriate in the moment, the feel of her skin and the slight shifts of her weight against his lap betrayed him.

“It’s not too different from Earth,” Isaac said seriously, brows knit together as his hands worked. “There’s a desert around the equator but the poles are pretty lush. There’s a waterfall with a pink sand beach called Moonmoor – which is kind of funny because Terra Nova doesn’t actually have any natural satellites.”

He paused, glancing at Eva when she hissed as he worked at a particularly stubborn knot in her lower calf. She sensed his concern through her closed eyes and waved him off with a smile while she breathed through the waves.

Even though he wasn’t sure why, she seemed to enjoy his ramblings. He rambled mostly to keep his mind distracted as she stretched next to him on the lounge, shifting her slim legs across his lap to give him better reach.

Isaac couldn’t believe how soft and smooth she was under his battle worn hands. It was hard to believe she was the same Fury that inspired so much curiosity, awe, and even fear among the scattered crew. He fretted, internally, about all the ways his lack of biotic ability made parts of her feel inaccessible. It didn’t matter.

“What’s your home like?” Her voice was soft and her eyes traced the lines of his face as he considered how to answer.

“Wheat fields and cows. The closet neighbor a klick and a half away. People leave their doors unlocked at night.” He smiled at the memories, more aware of the homesickness deep in his bones than he’d ever noticed before. “The colony is huge overall but, my home is just a little village in the southern valley.”

“That sounds nice.” Eva’s eyes drifted shut again as Isaac’s hands worked over her lower legs, coaxing the tension from her tired muscles.

“I miss it,” he said quietly, serious and half-lost to old memory. “And peanut butter jelly sandwiches,” he admitted with a genuine despair. “What do you miss?”

Eva smiled with her eyes closed, surfing her own memories in her mind. “Elyssian sunsets. Eletania’s mountains. Nodacrux’s lightning storms. The way eezo sings on Thessia. Peace and quiet. Organic broccoli.” Her laughter almost twinkled and he couldn’t help but join her. “My life is kind of a tornado.” She gestured lightly to the iconic red stripe that flowed down the shoulder of her oversized hoodie. “Too much of a disaster to miss much.”

“You're not a disaster.” Isaac’s voice was warm and sure but, he didn’t meet her eyes because he was afraid she would see. “You're a miracle.” He could feel the heat from his flushed face again and let his eyes trace the lines of the interlocking metal plates that made up the quarter’s floor. Her body stilled under his hands and he swallowed but, continued.

“Eva, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” He said it so matter-of-factly, almost as if it were just another immutable statistic, burned into his brain. “And I’ve seen a lot of things.”

The tension of all the unspoken crested between them when she laid her small hand over his and whispered his name.

He marveled at the way his hands found her body as she closed the space between them, crawling into his lap and settling over him with an unmistakable hunger in her perfect eyes. He was rigid before her lips crashed into his but, he was throbbing by the time she rolled her hips. She ground herself into his lap as they tasted each other with warm, open mouthed kisses and gentle slips of tongue.

Every movement one of them made escalated the desire of the other. His fingertips found the skin of her upper thighs and he tried not to groan at the feel of her lithe muscle under his palms as she moved against him, working for delicious friction. Her hands went under his loose shirt and the tickle of her nails across his ribs almost made him giggle. She swallowed it.

“Eva,” he pleaded against her lips, his hands cupping her breasts under the oversized hoodie as she squirmed on his lap, moving her hips to increase the friction. “Eva, please.”

She stilled only enough to look at him with eyes full of questions and he could only beam a shy smile. He wrapped his arms around her folded body, already scooping her against his chest. “Can I take you to bed?”

-

His mouth caught a nipple, rolling the sensitive bud against his tongue before his lips slid down her body, savoring her supple curves. One hand worked between her thighs as he kissed the planes of her soft belly. He hummed against her skin as she reacted to his touch, arching to feel more of his body against her.

His fingers alternated between dipping into her wetness, rubbing his thick fingers against her slick walls and swirling tiny circles on her sensitive clit. He took his cues from the way she breathed, gasped, moaned, and strained under his attentions.

He used his free arm to support his weight as he shifted up to kiss her again. He moaned against her mouth when she tangled her fingers into his thick, damp hair and tried to pull his body closer with the sweetest whine falling from her open lips.

“Hey.” He whispered, pecking her smooth cheeks to try to bring the temperature down. His body surged at the idea of discovering all of her other sounds.

“Hi,” she whispered back, eyes twinkling in the dark. She squeezed her thighs around his hand, still steadily stroking as he nuzzled against her neck, trailing kisses to her shoulder.

“I just want you to know its not that I don’t want to know what you feel like. On the inside.” His eyes shuttered, a micromovement betraying his need. Eva moved her hip against his tented shorts knowingly and he fought the urge to hump against her - if only for the fact that he was certain he’d cum. He blinked back to reality and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “But there’s a whole lot of other things I want to know about you first.”

He kissed her deeply, slipping his fingers from her aching body only to spread her thighs for his descent. More than anything he just wanted to fall asleep in her puddle.

[writinginthedarkwood]

Alien! Dabi x Reader. Smoke and Mirrors.

Okay okay, so TECHNICALLY. This is a part 2, from my last part to this series. If you aren’t completely caught up, I recommend at least reading Mirio’s part before this one. There’s some lore in here to answer questions I get!

 Here is a link to my master list so you can get caught up---> Master List 

Warnings: Quite a bit darker than usual, you all asked for it. Ovipositor kink, mention of death. Manipulation. 

“Take a deep breath. It might hurt, but you can do it.”

I gripped my chest and coughed hard, a fowl tasting liquid splattered against the cold ground by my face. I gagged on the taste and coughed again. “Can you see yet?” The voice talking to me was sweet and soft, a gentle hand touched my head and I grabbed their wrist. I peeled my eyes open, I felt their other hand wipe something sticky off of my face. It’s blurry, but I can see a bit better now. “Listen I know you must feel like shit, but we have to hurry honey, can you stand up?” She hooked her arm underneath mine and pulled me up to my knees. “I- I can stand...”

My stomach turned and bile burned the back of my throat. “Don’t puke!” I looked up at the girls face. She’s small and blonde, her cheek is swollen like something recently slapped her, she’s wearing a jumpsuit that looks like it used to be white but was stained by something green. I looked down at my own body, I have the same outfit. “My name is Anna, we’re not safe here.”

The sound of footsteps echoed against metal not far from here. “We need to hide.” She took my hand and crouched down, I copied her movements, trying to make myself seem small. “What’s going on? Where am I?” She yanked me down to the ground, pulling me behind a pile of discarded machines. Each machine looked like some type of pod, leaking green slime. They stacked on top of each other, glass cracking and loose parts scattered around. She slammed a hand over my mouth and whispered in my ear. “Don’t scream, whatever you see-” Her breathing faltered as she hushed her voice even further. “Just don’t scream.”

“I don’t know why we didn’t grab more T’s, that should have been way harder than it was.” The man that walked into the room was hardly a man at all, it was a walking upright green lizard. He was completely covered in scales head to toe. “Yeah that was easy.” The other man looked relatively normal, but he has black mask covering his face. “No it wasn’t!” The same man contradicted himself. “Hey wait where did that one go? Her pod is empty!” The lizard man rushed to a container half filled with the green goo. “Oh shit, shit shit shit-” The masked man slammed his hand on a red button on the wall. The sound of an alarm blared, the lights in the ceiling flashed red. “He’s going to fucking kill us! Dabi didn’t want her to wake up until we got to Home-” The lizard man shouted over the terrible buzzing sound. “You don’t think I know that? Spread out!” The odd pair ran into the hall, a metal door slid out from the wall and slammed shut. “What was that thing?” I hissed out as soon as Anna took her hand off of my mouth. “They’re both aliens. We’re on a ship.” She looked over the top of the mechanical pile. “I think I found a way off of it, but I was scared to go alone.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “Do you remember getting abducted?” She took an elastic band off of her wrist and pulled my sticky hair off of my neck into a little bun. I still feel terribly groggy, I feel like I’ve been asleep for days.

I don’t remember much. I remember smelling the smoke of burning buildings and gun fire. 

“I don’t remember anything. I’m from NYC...” Anna sounds American, but her voice has a bit of a southern draw. “I’m so glad you speak English...” She muttered a bit under her breath. “It wouldn’t matter, I’d just be happy to have someone with me. The label on your pod say’s your name is Y/N? Is that true?”

I nodded my head. “I think so...” 

“You poor thing... you remind me of my best friend...” Anna’s jaw trembled for a minute and she flinched like something touched her. “I’d love to sit here and get to know you better, but we have to move.”

As sweet as she is, her eyes look far away. The shudder, the tremble, her side ways glances.

What have they been doing to this girl?

“There’s a smaller ship in the hanger, it has an auto pilot... it can take us back to Earth.” She smiled, it wasn’t a happy smile.

It was a desperate, terrible smile.

She stood up and felt around the wall for some type of button that could open the door. I stood on shaky legs and followed close behind, trying to help. The panel holding the red alarm button had only one other button. She pressed it repeatedly. Nothing happened.

“No no no please...” She slammed her fist against the button and choked on a sob. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away. She looked at me with a bit of fear, my touch making her jump. I pressed the red button at the same time as the smaller button. The door shot open, Anna giggled happily and clapped her hands. “You did it! I knew I was right to wake you up!” She grabbed my hand and pulled us into the hall.

It doesn’t seem like anyone is around.

“Do you know how to get to the escape ship?” I couldn’t whisper, the sound of the alarm is too loud. I spoke just short of yelling. Anna cocked her head to the side and put a finger on her chin. “Well, no, but I mean this place can’t be that big, right?”

 I dragged my hand across the metal walls, we walked as close as we can to the sides of the hallway. Anna stopped us and peered around the corner. “I don’t think anyone is coming this way...”

“Hey Anna...” I tugged on her hand. “What do they want from us? I- I have to admit I’m scared...” Anna’s head whipped around to look at me, at first her face was filled with fear. Her contorted look of shock twisted, and she chuckled a bit, her eyes glazing over. Anna gripped her stomach and looked me dead in the eye. “They want to use us as baby incubators.” She laughed again. “That’s all the universe thinks we’re good for I guess! Baby fucking makers!” Her body was shaking. She lowered her voice and put her mouth next to my ear so I can hear her. “If they find us... Don’t let them touch you with their spit.” She grabbed my face to see if I understood. I nodded my head and nodded back.

Anna yanked my arm around the corner. “We need to keep moving.” She broke into more of a run than before. “Before the parasites find us!” She was frantic and making a lot of noise. “Anna stop! We need to think!”

I pulled her back just in time. A wall of blue fire erupted a few feet ahead, Anna fell back into my arms with another scream.

“Well well well, look who’s causing all of the trouble!” Anna tried to wiggle out of my arms, she screamed ‘no’ repeatedly and broke into panicked sobs. “Anna stop!” I held her tight and covered her head with my arms, holding her close to my shoulder. “If Shigaraki knew what you’ve been up to, well...” The man talking to us stepped closer, his silhouette becoming more complete in the lighting. At first, he looked like a normal person. A tall, lanky man with black hair that jutted out in every direction. He kept both hands in his pockets, and his face looked bored.

His body is heavily scarred, with only a few patches of skin that’s not damaged tissue.

“Well I think he would be a little hurt, don’t you? Why don’t you be a good female and run on back to your mate, this has nothing to do with you.” Anna wasn’t listening to his words. She sobbed into my shoulder, shaking her head no. “G-go away!” She screamed in my ear, but I know it’s not directed at me.

The man stepped closer with a slight smirk on his mouth. The light reflected off pieces of metal attached to his face. “Leave her alone!” I cradled her closer to me, shouting over the roar of the fire and her choking cries. “She’s not really what I’m concerned about...” He purred, his voice low and raspy as he closed the space between us. “I didn’t want us to meet this way, you must be so confused. Why don’t you come with me so we can have a talk?” I shook my head no and tried to move Anna so she was hiding behind me. She clutched desperately onto my clothes. “I know exactly what you want and I won’t do it...” I pushed the words out of my throat in a squeak. He put an arm against the wall, towering over me. “Aw doll face, I would never wanna do something that would hurt you.” His face is stoic and stern, not matching his tone of voice at all. “You have me so misunderstood.” He cleared his throat and smirked. He spit without even puckering his lips. Anna grabbed my face and pulled me out of the way, his stream of saliva smacking against her hand. She screeched as her skin sizzled and steamed. “Ah fuck, look what you did-” She slammed her burning hand into the side of his face, knocking him back off of us.

She shouted a terrible, guttural cry.

“Run!”

We sprinted away hand in hand, the smell of singed metal getting farther from us. Our bare feet slammed against the floor, it stings with every step. “We need a plan!” Anna heard me and nodded, she stopped so abruptly I almost ran past her. The wall slid half way open after she pressed her hand to touch screen panel. It creaked like a very old elevator door, and was even louder shutting behind us. “You need to hide.” She put both of her hands on my chest and shoved me towards the wall. “What about you?” I tried to fight her. “If Shigaraki finds me I can throw them off of your trail. You’ll be able to escape.” She swallowed hard, she was speaking much more calmly now. “I- I don’t understand I thought you wanted me to come with you...”

She smiled softly. “When I saw you asleep in that goo, my heart ached. I couldn’t let this happen to another innocent girl.” She wiped a strand of stray hair off of my cheek. “You reminded me of someone I knew before any of this, my best friend, my sister. If you make it back to Earth just watch out because...” She looked over her shoulder, someones coming. “There! The vent!”

“I don’t want to leave you! I’m still so confused!” I shook her shoulders. Anna ignored my pleas and shoved me further to the wall. An air duct cover hung loosely on the wall, the opening looked wide enough for me to crawl in. She lifted me just enough for me to be able to pull myself into the wall. I quickly oriented myself to face her again as she replaced the cover. I backed up to get further away from the metal, and laid completely still. Anna looked my direction with a smile before throwing herself to the ground, screaming . She rocked herself back and forth dramatically, crying out a name I’d never heard before. “Tomura!” She screamed, her throat catching her sob and sending out the name with a coarse terror. The door flung open and the frame was filled with a tall, lanky looking man. He touched the side of the door with a firm grip, the veins in his pale hands popping out as the metal underneath his touch began to suddenly turn to dust. He looked down at the ground through long hair, his eyes were piercing and a sick smirk spread across his face. Anna stopped crying and crawled over to the man, he bent his knees and squatted over her, guiding her chin to look up at him. “I hate fighting with you. Don’t you understand that I’m what you need to be happy? I would give you the entire universe if you would just...” His voice tightened, his tone shifting into something more unpleasant. “If you would just behave.” Anna threw her arms around him and cradled her head into his shoulder. She took a finger and traced over parts of his neck, small flaky patches of irritated skin. “I promise I’ll be good Tomura!” She squeezed him tighter. “I just missed having.. female friends. It’s so lonely when you’re busy.” 

The man twirled her messy hair in his long spindly fingers. “You’ll learn to love this way of life, it’s not like it’s any better on Earth, Anna. We may all be an island of misfit toys! But...” He kissed her forehead. “We’re all a family.”

Anna gently lifted her head off of him and cracked a smile. 

She laughed, softly at first and gradually grew until she was cackling with her arms gripping her stomach. The man just smiled at her. “You’re right Tomura! We are all a family!”

My heart started racing, something was wrong. Anna was supposed to be pretending to want to stay, right? I wormed myself backwards farther away from the vent and into the tight duct way. They can’t see me in here can they? My sight of what was happening blurred just a bit, now that I can’t peer through the grate. Another voice entered the room, and I felt just a bit warmer. Like something was breathing down my neck. A gnawing feeling of anxiety. 

“I’m so glad you and your mate are living crazily ever after over here, but we still have a problem Shigaraki.” The condescending voice said. “She woke up my T. The whole ship is on alert and YOUR mate knows where she is.”

“Oh my Anna wouldn’t be hiding anything from me... she knows that keeping secrets is such a fun way to really make me mad.” Shigaraki hissed out the last few words. Anna giggled again. “I know where she is! Y/N, come out so we can be a family!” Anna’s voice was closer to the wall now. I froze, I see her fingers reach up and try to adjust the grate. 

I panic and shuffle further backwards, my heart lurches into my stomach as I feel the metal under my legs disappear. I try to crane my neck and look over my shoulder and I can see that the vent drops off and shoots straight down. 

I have two choices, be pulled out of this air duct and thrown into whatever mess is happening out there. 

Or fall.

“Hey what are you doing? It’s okay Y/N don’t be scared!” Anna called out, her face was wet with tears but she was displaying a wide toothy smile. She stuck her dainty hand out and reached for me. 

I’m tempted to take it. A million things are running through my head, but none of the thoughts are connecting. 

I can hardly remember anything before waking up and seeing Anna. I remember feeling terrified, hungry, exhausted. Like I had been running from something for days, but it was always two steps behind me.

In the split second I take to think about all of this I reach my hand out gently, Anna’s finger tips just inches from mine. 

A pair of turquoise eyes appeared behind her. His presence made Anna jump and pull her hand away out of the vent. I gasped, his stern face showing no emotion as he spoke. “Now what are you doing hiding in there?” 

Earlier with the adrenaline pumping through me as we were running I hadn’t been able to stop and think clearly for a second. 

I don’t remember much about myself, I think I like to play the guitar. I remember objects, and smells of food I like. 

With his voice speaking to me again I remember one thing clearly, like the sound of a gong vibrating and rocking my head.

I remember him. 

“You can’t hide forever Y/N!” The alien called out from the side walk. How did he know my name? I lifted the slab of drywall that blocked the entrance to the hole I’ve been living in and gently set it down after crawling inside. I tried to keep my footsteps silent, avoiding touching any rocks of stepping on shards of glass. 

That’s when I smelled it, the smell of smoke. I looked through a crack in the bricks and saw him. He lifted a hand lazily and blue flames erupted from his arms and ignited the dust and fallen wood on the ground. They quickly spread to the debris of my apartment.

I’m not the only one squatting here. Other families have taken to the structure, some with small children. It’s not completely safe, but pieces of it still have a roof to protect us from the weather. 

The flames spread quickly. I screamed, begging that the other survivors could hear me and run. Things were being swallowed within seconds, the few entry points quickly disappearing. 

He locked eyes with me through the crack and grinned. “Nowhere to run to now, mouse. If only you’d have listened to me, maybe these pathetic humans would have lived.” He shouted and I closed my eyes, the smoke filling my lungs and making me suddenly very tired. When I hit the ground, I felt him. I felt him pull me into his arms, but after that.

Everything was dark. 

“Y-you...” I whispered, barely able to speak. 

The alien squinted his eyes a bit. 

Before I let him speak, I pushed my hands against the metal vent, my palms squeaking as I propelled myself backwards.

My chin hit the metal and scratched me as I fell. My back scraped against the metal chute, tearing at the thin clothing I have on. I closed my eyes, certain I’d hit the ground soon, breaking my legs and possibly my spine. Hopefully it kills me right away so I don’t have to lay there and suffer. 

The wind was knocked out of me when I hit something soft. I clawed at my chest for a second, gasping until I sucked in the air I desperately needed. I’ve landed in a discarded pile of.. laundry? 

Smocks similar to the one I was wearing were piled high, I was swallowed by them, completely covering everything but my head. This room is poorly lit, a dim green light flickered over head, but other wise it’s completely dark. I desperately clawed at the clothing, pushing it off of me and crawling to the hard, damp tile. My whole body shook and I looked around. 

There’s not much here, the ceiling is very tall and there are a lot of pieces of metal thrown about the room. Another vent pointing downwards like the one I just fell from was over a sharp looking pile of metal, lot’s of parts that would have impaled me if I fell just a few feet away. 

I gathered my footing and stood on trembling knee’s. It’s cold, my skin is covered in goose bumps. 

A strange pod, about the size of a large van sat in the middle of the room. It was rounded, and the door was open with a metal ramp sticking out of it. 

Could that be the ship? 

I stumbled to it, a hopeful smile plastered on my tired face. 

It was easy to step inside, it felt a bit more roomy in here than it looked from the outside. I stood without my head touching the ceiling. With another step towards the dash, the room lit up, buttons and screens whirring and coming to life with the sound of a fan blowing. It looks complicated, a few symbols appear but I don’t recognize them as letters I’ve ever seen before. Panic starts to set in, I’m not even sure where to begin. What does any of this mean? 

“Well, I’ll admit you’re pretty smart. I like that.” 

I turned around to that deep voice. “But what is your plan now? Find a way to pilot back to Earth with no rations, and no idea how much oxygen this thing has in it?” He leaned against the wall and looked at me with almost a face of disinterest. “Putting aside the fact that we are an entire universe away from Earth right now...” He slowly blinked at me. “Why go back?” He asked with a slight smile. He paused, waiting for my response. I swallowed hard and thought about what I was going to say. “It’s... my home.” I whimpered out. 

“Is it though? Earth is crumbling. Society has collapsed, the survivors are the people scummy enough to hurt others and take what they want without repercussion.” He stepped towards me, making my heart slam against my chest. he stepped past me and pressed a few buttons on the dash and a video appeared on the windshield. “This is where that girl you met is from, Anna.” 

It was aerial footage, like it was being filmed from a drone, but the people below didn’t seem to notice they were being watched. 

Men stood in the beds of trucks with large guns. They had them pointed at young men who had their hands on their head, kneeling down as crying girls were dragged by their arms into the vehicles. A man stood up and rushed for a screaming blonde child, she looked like she couldn’t have been older than 12. The men on trucks didn’t hesitate to shoot him down, his blood splattering on the clothes of the girl he tried to rescue. 

She couldn’t even scream.

I covered my mouth in horror. “Wh- what are they doing to those girls?” 

He sat down in a cushion chair, sitting back and relaxing a bit. He leaned his head on his elbow. “They’re collecting surviving women and auctioning them off for rations. They claim they’re trying to help repopulate the planet.” He smirked a bit. “They believe that they are the superior men, more masculine and deserve to pass on their genetics more than the men not willing to resort to violence. Anna was almost a victim to this.” He snapped his fingers and the footage shut off. “She’s much better off here.” 

“How is what you’re doing here any different?” I spoke with a bit of confidence, my fear slowly being replaced with anger. “And what are we doing here?” He asked with a lift of his eyebrows. 

“Anna told me, she said you plan to use us as incubators for your alien offspring.” I wasn’t yelling, his question threw me off. I answered like I was also asking a question back. 

“I won’t lie, some of my actions go against what the society I come from deems as “normal” or “acceptable” but who’s to say that the King is always right?” He started, still leaning casually as he talked to me. “None of that has anything to do with you, baby doll. See I have something to offer you that you could never find back on that rock.” He tried to smile a sweet look, but his bright eyes flashed me a glimpse of something wicked. His line of intrigue caught me like a fish hook. I lowered my guard, just a bit. “And... and what is that?” I grabbed my arms, suddenly feeling self conscious about the way that I looked right now, battered and a bit dirty. “Unconditional love and happiness, for the rest of your life.” 

I expected him to say that he had some type of alien knowledge, or money to offer me if I complied with his request. “See humans are often real superficial don’t you think? The way you look matters, how much money someone makes. Where they come from and how much value the community gives them. A lot of things get in your way, preventing you from having everything you want. But you baby, you are so, so lucky.” He stuck out his hand, reaching it towards me. Something inside of me told me to take it, I fought the urge for a minute. He smiled and leaned farther, taking my hand in his and holding it softly. I noticed pieces of metal stuck out of his arm in places, holding his skin together. His fingers had calluses on them, but the rest of his hand was soft. “You never have to worry about any of that, if you kiss me one time, you’ll never feel anything but happiness again. I can make all of your dreams come true.” 

“Wait you love me?” I asked confused. He gently pulled on my hand, moving me into his lap in a smooth fluid movement. He brushed my hair away from my face and looked at me with that wolfish grin. Like he’s unable to smile without looking suspicious. My heart slammed against my chest. “When you were back on Earth, before the end of your world, what did you want to be baby? What was your wildest dream?”

I tried to think hard, only flashes of memories ran through my head, nothing solid. I remembered going to school, I can see my campus. It felt pleasant to remember the classroom, but it looks off. It looked young, big letters on the walls with small chairs and seats. I remember the smell of coffee and art supplies. “I think I wanted to be a teacher...” He moved his hand down my spine and settled on my lower back. “How sweet, we could use someone as smart as you here. We don’t get all the luxuries the Kingdom has to offer, we have to survive on our own. We could use someone as bright as you to help teach all the sweet children who will be running around soon.” He purred into my ear. “And I’ll give you the perfect family, my boss promised us land on the dwarf planet we’ll be staying on for awhile. I’ll build you a house and you can decorate it anyway you like.” He spoke right against my ear while rubbing small circles along my spine. Chills ran up my back and neck. Anna’s words rang through my head suddenly like a gong. It was like she change the minute that man kissed her forehead, her entire plan thrown out the window.

Don’t let them touch you with their spit.

He must have noticed my sudden change in demeanor. I tried to scramble and pull myself out of his lap, but he gripped my back and held my face in place with his other hand. “And here I thought we were getting somewhere...” He growled under his breath and smirked. My chest heaved as I started to hyperventilate. I squirmed, trying to shake him off. His firm grip barely had to adjust from my thrashing to still keep me firm in his lap. He stuck out his tongue, long strands of thick spit connected the roof of his mouth with his tongue. I winced, expecting it to burn me like his spit hurt Anna before. His slimy appendage dragged along my jawline and up my cheek. He playfully grabbed my ear lobe and bit down a little.

It didn’t hiss and burn, it was warm for just a second before my entire body heated up. The anxiety and fear I was feeling melted away, and I felt my shaky limbs calm and steady. “See isn’t that so much better?” 

“Y-yes.” I gripped onto his shirt and pulled myself closer to him, resting my face on his scarred neck. “See? I wouldn’t lie to you. Let’s go back to my room so we can finish our talk...” 

Six months later.

I sat a little cold by the glass window. It had a light green frost growing on the edges. It still surprises me that the “water” here has a fluorescent hue. The nature outside was quiet like it is on Earth winters, but small and strange creatures would walk by occasionally and take a look at our greenhouse, wondering how to get inside and steal some of our food. I’ve been documenting them and their behaviors, trying to soak up everything about this place before we move again. 

We don’t stay places long. Dabi will disappear for awhile, often coming back exhausted and injured. He doesn’t talk about what he was up too, but the more time I spend here the more I realize that it’s probably better that I don’t know. The watch he gave me rang from the other room. I left my hot drink on the window sill and stepped into the kitchen. I clicked the button answering Anna’s call. Her face appeared in a hologram projected over the watch. “Hey Anna, how are you and the babies today?” 

“They’re back! Tomura just called to tell me that they landed!” She said excitedly. “Oh! And the babies should be here any day now! I’m getting as big as a whale.” She smiled happily. “But I just called to tell you that they landed.” She trailed off for a minute. “I think I’m going to pack the bags. Tomura did not sound happy, I think we’re going to move again.” She said sort of quiet. “I thought he promised you would deliver here? You already made your nest.” It’s only been a few weeks, we’ve barely settled. Our food reserves are getting lower, we needed to grow more and gather more resources here. “I... I know. But Tomura always knows best. He’s the leader for a reason...” She said with a smile, but her confidence wavered in her voice. “Anna, I’m worried that what they’re doing is a lot worse than they are making it out to be...” I tread carefully, it’s been long enough sense we’ve seen our mates that Anna should have a bit more mental clarity. When Tomura is home, it’s like she has no thoughts of her own. “Don’t start this again. Tomura wouldn’t lie to us. He’s doing work for the greater good.” 

“I’m just worried. If it’s so good why can’t we live on Home World? Why can’t they tell us anything?” I looked over my shoulder to make sure Dabi wasn’t standing behind me. “Stop it Y/N! You know they said Home World is dangerous. They’re working to free the citizens of Home World from the tyrant. They don’t tell us anything because it’s not our job to worry about it. WE are the good guys.” 

“But Anna I found something in Dabi’s stuff, they’re killing-” 

“STOP!” She yelled into the receiver. She choked on a cry. “I don’t want to hear it!” She sniffled. “If you know what’s good for you you’ll stop asking questions.” Her face disappeared and the watch was quiet, she hung up. I set down the watch and sighed in frustration. I grabbed another glass to make Dabi a hot drink for when he came home. I poured the liquid and held it for a second, just letting the steam reach my chin. 

I turned around and dropped the cup to the ground, it’s metal so it hits the floor with a loud sound but doesn’t break. Dabi was standing against the doorway with a dark look on his face. “Oh hi honey. You’re back.” I said with a smile. 

“Did I scare you?” He asked, glancing down at the spilled liquid. 

“I didn’t hear you come in.” I reached for a cloth hanging on the wall and he grabbed my wrist. I flinched and he looked at me funny. “What has you so jumpy, love?” He pulled me into his arms and put a hand in my hair, running his fingers along my neck and scalp. “I missed you.” He said against my head. I said nothing for a moment. He smelled heavily of smoke. “I have a surprise for you.” He said, pulling himself away so he can look at my face. “What is it?” 

“We’re taking a bit of a vacation.” He had his hands on my sides and rocked us a bit as we stood there. “A vacation?” 

“Yeah we uh, have decided that some of our efforts are being wasted at the minute. We need time to recoup, ground ourselves and come back stronger.” He lead us to our pile of bedding and pulled us down so that I was laying on his chest. “So we’ll have time to bond more, I haven’t seen you in so long. We’ll have some time to start our little family.”

I stiffened a bit. We’ve had this conversation a lot, I’ve thought of every excuse in the book. I’ve gotten away without breeding because he’s been gone a lot. “You think it’s a good time to start having kids?” I asked quietly. 

“Don’t you? I’ll be able to be here for the whole gestation. We have the next location of where we’re going to stay for awhile. It’s much warmer, you’ll love the wildlife.” He played with my hair, massaging the nape of my neck with his callused fingers. “I- I have a few questions...” 

“What is it baby?” He crooned, leaning forward and kissing my face and neck. He was gentle, playfully trailing them across my skin, not leaving too many traces of his saliva. “Did you... I mean, are you killing the Kingdoms mates?” 

Dabi snapped his head up and rolled me off of his chest. “Who said that to you? Who’s lying to my mate?” His eyes were wide, a vein popping out on his forehead as he growled. “N-nobody told me anything I found-” 

He cut me off with a laugh. Gathering some composure with a chuckle. “So you’re going through my things?” 

I said nothing. “We’re not doing anything that isn’t necessary. The Kingdom needs to fall.” 

I sat myself up and tried to look brave. “So you are killing human women.” My lip trembled. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, that he never meant to hurt anybody back on Earth, and he would never harm innocent women. 

Women that already lost everything, that have nothing to do with these insane politics.

Women like me.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time alone, little mate.” He gently pushed my shoulders down onto the cozy pile of cloth. He crawled over top of me, his hips pressing down on mine, pinning me to the bed. “You’re getting paranoid out here all by yourself, I’ve been treating you bad. My poor baby...” My breath caught in my chest, he ran his hands up my shirt and traced along my side. “Do you think I would ever lie to my precious angel? My most treasured possession?” He planted a sticky kiss on my neck, his spit sinking into my skin and sending signals to my brain. My fear started to fade, my anxiety relaxing. He grabbed my chin, parting my mouth and forcing me to look up at him. He kissed me hard, jamming his tongue into my mouth and swirling it around. I mewled a bit into his mouth, letting out a slight cry as my body reacted to him. My blood rushed to my lower half, setting me on fire. I bucked my hips to press harder against his and he smiled into my mouth before pulling away. “There she is, there’s my good girl.” He whispered to me with his wolfish grin. “I would be the lucky guy to get such a smart little mate, but still so obedient.” He smirked before leaning down and biting down hard on my neck. I whimpered and grabbed onto his shoulders. 

Dabi leaned on his hands behind his head and relaxed, watching me bounce and squirm. I reached to cover my face, lightly embarrassed by his gaze. I moved up and down on his cock, feeling kind of awkward as I get used to moving my body this way. He quickly snatched my hands away from my blushing face. He clicked his tongue. “Ah ah ah baby girl, I like watching you.” He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers into my skin and pushing me down harder on top of him. I moaned and placed my hands on his chest to stabilize myself. “You’re not getting tired are you? This is only round two.” His tone lightly mocking me. 

“I- I’m not used to this...” I whined and rolled his eyes. “Fine you want me to drill you again? Your wish is my command.” He held me in place as he bucked his hips up, slamming his hips into mine with little strain on his face. “D-dabi!” I screamed, his pace so fast I can barely have time to moan. I felt his body shift, his member start to open inside of me. He shoved me onto my back and slowed down his strokes drawing himself out almost all of the way before pounding back into me with a hard thrust. I grabbed onto his shoulders, prepping myself for him to finish. He stopped and held himself deep inside of me, the first egg leaving his body and hitting my cervix. My climax shivered down my spine and my gasp stuck in my chest. He stared down at me with his signature cold gaze with a light grin. “You love getting fucked, you pretend like you don’t want it but then look at that face-” He let out a small grunt, holding most of it back as he deposited another egg in me. My whole body shook and I gasped again. “Drooling all over the place. You’re such a slut.” 

He pulled out and kissed my forehead. “You feel a little better now that I’ve fucked the attitude out of you?” I laid flat on my back and tried to catch my breath, my face flushed and my body tired. He grabbed his shirt off of the floor and tossed it to me for me to put on. He stretched out his arms, showing off his toned muscles. “I’ll just go ahead and take that as a yes.” 

My brain swam with nothing but thoughts of having a sweet little family with him. I pictured what our children will look like and smiled. I’ll make a good mother... 

For just a second, a thought crossed my mind, a distant one. I could barely see it behind the cloud of euphoria. 

The thought of people screaming as smoke filled their mouths.

This took me so long to write, it’s been requested from the beginning but I had a plan! I hope you like it. Inbox me and tell me what you think!

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Heavy Harry monster engine form comparison chart

Here's he, in his various sizes... the in-between form in my AU is called the "switch" (because an monster engine in this form can go both ways, as engine and as monster), and yep... he, like SpookyHenry, is demonic...

(I kinda noticed that his size and weight in human form is a bit obscured ... 7.1 ft. 550 lbs), he is pretty massive in all his forms as befits the heaviest loco in Oz.

CW: Blood

Yes, he is a big fucker.

This one is a bit of a work in progress...

[valiantly-onward]

The Serpentine War Ch. 5

Chapter 5: Fire And Water

Ray drew a hand across the back of his scruff. He needed a shave, badly. He used to shave every other day. But used to was so long ago. Ray hadn’t realized how many months had flown by until Maya mentioned something about his improvement since the New Year.

“What?” he said, parrying her strike.

Maya lowered her katana. “Your form. It actually looks like a form now.”

In Maya-speak, that meant brilliant, so Ray took it.

Maya frowned in concentration. She was about his age, seventeen or eighteen, and wore a simple red outfit that made Ray feel self-conscious about his own ripped jacket. Black hair hung lightly over her shoulders. She had a proud face - high cheekbones and dark, pretty eyes.

She raised the blade again. “I’ll defend this time.”

So she did. Back and forth they went, so painfully slow that Ray wanted to burst. But it was working - last week, they’d reviewed the moves at full speed and Ray kept up.

They worked themselves to a sweat until the monastery door slid open. They stopped to face Wu as he stepped down into the courtyard.

“Good morning, Master Wu.” Maya bowed.

Ray tried not to wrinkle his nose. Maya always called the guy Master but the word felt alien on Ray’s tongue, especially applied to a man who looked barely older than Ray himself (though Ray suspected he wasn’t). And Wu didn’t seem to mind, title or no.

Nevertheless, Ray nodded his head respectfully. Steam wafted from the teacup in Wu’s hand. In his other hand was the ever-present Nin-Jo, the bamboo weapon that Maya favored. Ray had laughed the first time he saw her training with it. Three seconds later, when the butt of the staff swung against his gut, he promised himself he’d never laugh again.

Wu sipped his tea. “Good morning. Today, we shall train powers.”

A frown flitted across Ray’s face, which Wu ignored. Ray thought of all those months ago, and the promise the Master made.

I am a ninja, Wu had said. But I will not teach you to be a ninja. I will teach you what you need to know to face the Serpentine. You will learn your powers. You will learn strength. More will follow in time.

But Ray had not faced the Serpentine. He had not learned his powers either. They refused to emerge. A dark thought lingered in Ray’s mind. Was it possible for Elemental powers to skip two generations?

Ray’s only consolation was that Maya was struggling too, and she’d been at this much longer than he had. At least she could move water. Fire would not listen to Ray.

Wu left his cup on the patio for a moment and stepped toward them. He set a water bucket down right before Maya - where had that come from? - and said, “Maya, remember what we’ve talked about. Flow. Move with the water, like the water.”

Maya nodded and faced Ray with an unreadable expression. From what Ray could gather, Maya was a private person, which meant that was about as much as Ray could gather. What little else he knew? A) she was pretty, b) she was smart, c) her presence at the monastery was about getting out from under her parents’ thumbs, and d) the two of them were alike like that. But unlike him, she’d been training with Wu for years.

“Ray,” Wu said, and Ray tried not to treat it like a rude interruption of his thoughts. “Your powers are being stubborn. But fire is not stubborn. It leaps out, eager to consume all it touches. Harness that feeling.”

“Let’s just do it.” Ray closed his eyes as he’d watched Maya do.

He tried. For many long moments, he tried. The mountain wind mussed his hair. He could hear the water in Maya’s bucket swishing. The good thing about Maya, he had to admit, was that she never rubbed anything in his face. Not even this.

No. Don’t think about the water. Just fire. Fire.

For a moment, Ray thought he’d found it. It was there, a word on the tip of his tongue, Serpentine sand slipping through fingers. Just - a moment - longer -

Ray growled with frustration and forced his eyes open. Maya was scowling at her bucket. The swishing was just the wind playing with it.

Ray kicked over the bucket.

“Hey!” Maya’s gaze shot up. Water spilled over the stones, darkening them.

“This is taking too much time!” Ray protested. He turned toward Wu for a moment, who looked concerned. “The Serpentine are out there and we’re here - doing this!”

When Wu said nothing, Ray fisted his hand and strode toward the monastery doors. “I’m just no good at this. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Ray,” Maya called.

Ray did not reply.

“Ray!” Maya bellowed.

Ray spun around, meaning to bellow back, but he pulled up short. Just between him and Maya, a small ribbon of red light flickered in the air. No, not light. Flame, disembodied from either candle or torch.

Ray stepped forward, circling the hovering flame but not touching it. “How -”

“You weren’t trying so hard,” Maya said. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

He fumed. “So don’t try. How am I supposed to focus by not focusing?”

Then Wu stepped forward from his long silence on the patio. His expression hadn’t changed, still drawn and serious, but it seemed lighter somehow. He stopped between them, just shy of the fire.

“I believe we need to switch teachings,” he said finally. “Maya.” He tapped her shoulder with his staff. “You must be fierce. After all, a tsunami is the fiercest force in all nature. Ray.” Wu let his fingers curl around the floating flame. “You must flow. Let go. Fire can flow, and even become something beautiful.”

He gathered the spark above his palm and tossed it like he was tossing a ball. Ray caught it by reflex. It twirled over his fingers once before vanishing.

Ray opened his mouth to ask a question, but suddenly Wu stiffened, like he’d been struck. His gaze fixed on something over Ray’s head. Ray turned, squinting into the cloudy sky. Then he saw it. Up high, something was darkening a piece of the sun.

“Is that -” Maya started.

But Wu was already moving toward the red monastery doors. Ray exchanged a look with Maya, and rushed after him.

The dragon landed in the rocks outside the walls. Ray could tell immediately it was an Elemental dragon akin to the golden one Wu could create. Smoke rolled off its dark wings. It was grey, with cracks like white lava splitting its scales. Green frills sprouted around its neck.

As soon as the rider slipped to the ground, the dragon vanished in a whirl of grey smoke. The woman scrambled over the rocks, urgency in every movement.

“Wu,” the woman said when she reached the stairs. “They’ve done it. They’ve broken the line along the Sea of Sand.”

Wu took her arm as she nearly slipped on the stone stairs. “Their movements?”

“North. No Anacondrai yet, but they will soon follow.”

“They will try to break through the Echo Canyons. If we could hold them there…” Wu trailed off as he noticed Ray and Maya standing in the great doorway. The woman noticed them too. She wore purple robes, all cheekbones and dark hair. She pressed her pink lips together as she considered them alongside Wu. Ray was surprised that she looked about his age. But seeing as twenty-something Wu was actually a hundred years old or older, Ray didn’t trust his eyes much.

“Lei,” Wu said. “These are the young Masters of Water and Fire. Ray, Maya, this is Lei, the Master of Shadow.”

“That’s not an element,” Ray said.

Lei sniffed. “Don’t get haughty because yours is an Element of creation, Master of Fire. Wu, we need to move.”

Ray’s heart began racing. For these many months, Wu had apprised them of the situation. Small battles raged across the Sea of Sand. The Elemental Masters had erected a defensive line from Primeval’s Eye to the southern tip of the Echo Canyons. But there was only so much nine Elemental Masters could do against the armies of the Serpentine. That they had held out this long was incredible. But if the line was broken…

He realized Wu was frowning at him. Ray got the feeling that the guy knew exactly what was going through Ray’s head and he didn’t like it.

“You’re not ready, Ray,” Wu said.

“All due respect, Wu,” Lei interjected. “But it doesn’t matter if they’re ready or not. We need everyone.”

All was silent for a moment. Wu tapped his foot angrily.

“Tell the Elemental Masters to fall back to the Echo Canyons,” he said finally. “I will send these two with you to guard Jamanakai Village. Can your dragon carry them?”

Lei’s face seemed to fall a little but she nodded.

“Good.” Wu surveyed the three of them. “Come. Let’s get our friend some food, and then we’ll talk.”

~~~

The good thing about having nothing was that there was very little to pack. Ray stuffed a sleeping roll in his bag, along with an extra pair of underclothes and robes. The robes were the red ones Wu had given him upon arrival, the robes of a Master of Fire. Using the monastery forge, Ray had crafted an armored chest plate and pauldrons to go with them. But after he’d finished, staring at the dragon head engraved in metal and the red robes laid across his bed, Ray couldn’t bring himself to put them on. He didn’t feel worthy of them, not yet.

Maybe, at Jamanakai, he would.

Ray stepped out of his room. Maya was moving about in her quarters, just down the hall. For the first time, the door was thrown wide open. Ray slipped his bag over his shoulder and strode to the open doorway. Leaning against the frame, he watched Maya sit on her floor, her legs folded beneath her as she closed her bag.

Her room was cleaner than his, even though she had collected more things from her years at the monastery. A few seashells and stones sat neatly on a bedside shelf. Her screen window was open to the red-leafed trees that clung to the mountainside.

“He’s right,” Maya said, without looking up. “We’re not ready.”

“You’re telling me.” Ray knocked his head against the frame and let his eyes wander to the window. He started to say something but nothing came out.

Maya climbed to her feet. “You’re a good warrior, Ray. You’ve learned a lot in such limited time. Even without your powers, you’ll be okay.”

This was the most that Maya had ever said to him in one setting, and the nicest thing he’d heard come out of her mouth. Ray stared at her. “But my powers.”

“There’s something called true potential.” Maya hugged her bag. “Master Wu told me about it. When you reach your true potential, its supposed to help you unlock the full extent of your powers.”

True potential. “When?”

Maya shrugged. “If I knew, I’d tell you. I haven’t found mine yet. That’s why I can’t control water like I should.” She paused, hesitating. “I...procrastinated training all these years. Focused on weapons. Wu let me, but I don’t think he will any longer.”

Ray’s heart fell. If in years of training Maya hadn’t found her true potential, what hope did Ray have? “So I might never reach it.”

“I didn’t say that,” Maya replied.

“Didn’t you?”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Ray’s heart thumped unexpectedly, even as his frustration cooled. They always seemed so ready to argue - or rather, he did, but he wasn’t sure how to stop himself.

Maya looked away, taking her bag by the straps. “See you out there.”

She shoved past him into the hallway. Ray remained for a moment. He released a sound of frustration before pushing himself off the doorframe.

He paused as he passed the forge on the way back out. It was cold most days. Unless you counted Ray, it had been a long time since the monastery had a proper blacksmith. But it was in the forge that Ray felt the most like the proclaimed Master of Fire - surrounded by flames he could manipulate, by heat he was able to withstand when no one else could.

Ray stared at the hearth for a moment. Then he continued on to the courtyard, and Lei, and the war.

@greenygreenland

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures, Episode 36:  The King, The Guard, The Blade

Last on Seon Adventures! The Cultbusters had gone and traversed through the treacherous traps of the Fallen King’s Tomb; confronted mirror creatures and bested them in riddle combat; snuck through metalic guards and browsed through the dedicated libraries...

Now, they stand before the spirit of the King, himself. A Purple Tiefling man in humble clothing as each party in this conversation genuinely wants to know truths...

He shifts his weight on his back leg and looks to each of the adventurers, expectantly, certainly hoping for no unnecessary bloodshed. And welcomes the party. Friends or foes.

Luctan, who up until now hadn’t seen any ghosts (and had his mind wiped of the memory of the time travel shenanigans) states the obvious.

“So. You’re a ghost.”

That certainly breaks the tension and the party ask the king of what had occured. Desperately wanting to know answers to questions he himself may not have reached the full legway to.

The fall happened after his passing. His temple wasn’t finished until the end of the war, or so he heard. He’s heard things around him, the builders talking about it. Kobolds. So sadly, even the king was in ignorance of the situation.

But question for question, his highness questions them on what they, themselves knew of the events. And they would recite Arryn’s story, as best as that was told and remembered. And the King would try to fill in the gaps:

The place, where he transitioned into unlife, very unpleasant to remember that event, but dragons were sent to them. A pair of black ones, large and fierce. He took one of them down with the help of some brave warriors. They took that one down and his wings have been buit into the wall.

The other was shot down and taken away to question and interrogate away by the Kingdom’s allies in Guan. After his passing, he has heard fairly one sided stuff. He doesn’t want to believe that what happened happened. It seems impossible to him, even if he doesn’t understand much of magic.

Belli tries to recall if something like that would have been possible… All of them try, but none think we can figure it out. However Malak believes spells can be amplified by multiple people. Multiples... the council, maybe?!

When prodded on why this happened. This... war. The King would bemoan the events.

The battle started with a failed negotiation. It was his mother that started it. She wanted to negotiate some Southern Lands, fertile lands. Just that, leave it at that. He thought they could do better. Then? Empty threats that turned to words spoken and words into actions. And then actions taken turning into Rot.

When the queary of who commissioned them would be brought up, the truth was that they didn’t know much. Beyond the face that they were approached by for the job, there was nothing certain. Though...  Putting things together on a certain perspective? Technically the council commissioned could have been the commissioners, but probably those, who argued with the king’s mother. Over land. And money.

The King’s Blade was and is a weapon with magical abilities. A sentient one too. Passed down the generations from one ruler to the next. He would confirm that it was still in the vault.

The King would mention that he was connected to the Iron Guardians that the party had snuck past in the smoke and that he would be able to turn them off for an easier exit. But the stone construct that was protecting the vault? That would be a daunting task only the party could deal with.

Malak, who has totally seen ghosts before (All of the ghosts) offers the king a chance to transition. Like. Right now. No money required.

And the King’d accept.

But as Malak casts his Channel Divinity feature, the king would grip at his head, panic and start running in a circle, screaming in fear and terror. Because. Well. His CR is too high for that?!!

Essentially,  Malak gave the king Existential Dread.The poor ghost man.

“Dick move.” - the king would state, once the CD would wear off. And Malak in turn would claim, in a huff, that the King wasn’t quite as committed to carrying on as he initially said.

A few minutes of this goes on, before Malak gives it a second go, this time with a Banishment spell onto the King, who was beginning to regret even telling the party of the Construct.

As he accepts the banishment, he clearly gives Malak the stink eye for the trouble and is sent away to the afterlife.

With the party never getting his name.

Fuck.

With the task done, the party consider resting in the tomb, before advancing to the treasury. But comedy ensues as Malak refuses to sleep in a place of the dead. And the party go back and forth on whether they should sleep here or not.

And ultimately agree on just going to the vault.

Also Jun takes some time to sit on the throne and more specifically the statue of the king’s lap. Because she deserves this.  Congratulations, Queen.

Leading the way afterwards is Mournimar, who mentions along the way that he and Belli had seen the construct before, while it was keeping it’s vision on Jun, Luck and Malak in the library. Something that he had forgotten to mention to them previously to this moment.

With this knowledge on their minds, the party elect to split and take a seperate route. Jun and Luck taking the upper coridor, while Malak, Mournimar and Belli (and Morgan) go for the Library entrance.

As Mournimar turns around, he sees an Orange light looking directly at him and it comes from some kind of glowing gem. It glows, the orange deepends to an orangy-red.

Roll for initiative and Luck is the first to make his move.

He elects to try and distract the construct and steps forward, clapping and “complimenting” it.  Asking it to let them pass. And holding an action.

While this goes on,  Mournimar Hunter’s Marks, swears under his breath that the party doesn’t have a choice and fires. One miss. One hit. And backs away. 11 damage.

- On Belli’s turn, she uses her Animating Performance. And animates one of the shields, causing it to end up thrusting itself away from the grip of the designed defender.

AND FOR HER BONUS ACTION!

She mocks it. Ooh, not as strong as you used to be. Bit of rust setting in. Maybe you should retire and give it a rest?” Aaand that doesn’t quite work out, sadly as psychic attacks don’t effect a machine.

On Jun’s turn... She runs over to the construct and Hexes it, taking away it’s advantage with Strength attacks..

Using her Mystic Frenzy, she casts Booming Blade. And cuts into it!  Thanks to Belli, both of Jun’s attacks hit the being and she stabs in and between the plates for a lot of damage. 36 DAMAGE O _ O

And the retaliation comes quick as she gets slammed by it’s remaining shield in turn. The requirements for Luck’s attack spring up and he tries to shrink the creature to a much smaller size, but it resists his magical influence as steam starts to billow from it’s body. White-ish, magical steam, which causes Jun and Luck to lose some of their energy, Slow-ing them down.

On Malak’s turn... he casts Spiritual Weapon right next to the Floating Shield. So it’s a nAnimated Team Up!  Smack for +8 Force Damage. Toll the Dead afterwards!

With his movement halved, Luctan can only pull his Greatsword out and swing the Evenchord, slashing it across the body of the bionic enemy.

It’s the Ranger’s turn again. Bonus action, Mournimar casts Ensnaring Strike on the Guardian. At Level 2, which turns off the Mark. With the creature restrained, Mournimar fires and hits it twice with his arrows.

Bonus action, Belli tells the shield to protect Luck and Jun.  And as an Action she tries to Dispell the Stone Construct’s control over the Slow Fog?!

With a tremendous grip on her confidence, she succeeds in this endeavor. Now free to attack, Jun cuts into herself for her Crimson Rite. For a collective 38 damage. Oil starts to leak out from it’s back.

 And a brief flicker emits from it’s gem as a reaction to the damage dealt. And the smoke pops out once more. Causing Luck and Jun to be slowed yet again.

The construct crashes into Jun again, but before it can hit again, she manages to roll out of it’s way, avoiding further damage. 

On Malak’s turn, he sends the spiritual weapon to make an attack, which connects for 6 Force Damage. And after that attempts to wound it with a Chill Touch, which sadly doesn’t work as intended... With that thought, the cleric would move behind Luck and Jun, ready to heal them if they lose their balance.

On Luck’s turn, he shiftshis sword to his left hand and channels a different kind of magic than what he normally uses, before smashing his fist into the body of the construct, in defense of Jun, citing “Now that’s no way to treat a lady.”, but like, slow like. Inflict Wounds. 9 Necrotic.

On Mournimar’s turn, the arrow sniper gets a sudden sense of inspiration as he aims for the crystal, while the thing focuses on Jun. 26! 1 damage to the crystal, a vulnerable area!  An arrow sticks out of the crystal and it’s like it’s blinking eratically at random patterns!  Second shot hits again! 24 damage ON THE GEM!!! HE SPLITS THE ARROW!

Yeah, by this point it doesn’t look great at all.

On Belli’s turn... Belli casts mage hand and carries the acid bomb to drop it onto the crystal!  It drops perfectly on the crystal. But the acid damage has little effect!

As a Bonus Action she inspires Jun.  “You got this, Queen!”

“Aw, shucks, lil’ ol’ me?!” she jokes and now full of inspiration and Bloodhunter Badassdom, Jun does the deed.  25 Damage!

HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?!

Jun takes out the Gollem’s knee, slices through it, causing it to drop to a knee. And then slowly pushes her sword through the crystal, pulling a decapitation move.

It’s fallen. Dead.

With a key in the back of it’s head.

A key.

And there’s another big metal door.

Which is big. And made of metal. But are there hinges on it?!

One can not quite tell.

Mournimar and Jun take turns trying to lockpick the vault’s door, With Jun receiving a Greater Healing Potion from Luck for her troubles in the fight, before her turn with the picks.

But neither quite gets the job done, while Malak calmly grabs the key out of their view and waits for his chance.

(Also, btw. The shield’s name is now “Simon”. And Belli wants to keep it.)

And once it arrives, he walks up to the door.

Then he touches it and mutters something, like a prayer of sorts, being a little shit as he unlocks the door with the key.

Inside are all the treasures of the King. The floor is littered with coins. And in the back of the room, on a cushion lays the King’s Blade. Behind the blade is a large skull of a dragon that was killed with it. Black Dragon Scales everywhere, forming a collage of the King.

With Mournimar vibing with Morgan and Belli finding interest in a box of animal figurines, Malak steps up to the sword, before Jun and Luck can do anything more than just watch it intently.

He asks them to wait a moment, so he can check the weapon for any curses. The cleric then pokes it gently, casting Remove Curse. Whether that succeeds or not is unknown.

Browsing the vault, the party find multiple items, some, which clearly emit magic, once Detect Magic is cast. A ring mail armor is among them, but no one finds the want to pick it up. Belli’s distracted by a box with 8 turquoise animal figurines. 8 different kinds. Dog, cat, deer, bear, gorilla, raven, owl and a gecko, while Malak gets a party’s worth of Greater Healing Potions from a box.

With a keen analytical eye, the cleric takes note that Enchantment and Evocation magic emits from the sword.  There’s also slight abjuration on the Dragon Scale Collage, but as a preservative.

And then?

Luck picks up the sword.

And speaks to it.

Asking it if it has a name? Gender? Anything like that?!

And it does speak. And she introduces herself as Ena. A very eloquent lady of a long sword, who hasn’t been held in a long while.

With a voice that makes it sound like he is almost flirting with her, Luck catches up Enaon what has and might have been going on in the time of her last use.

She is perfectly fine traveling with the party and even feels comfortable in Luck’s grasp as there seems t obe some kind of “Royalty” feeling to him. Curious of the possibilities, the party also bring along the dragon skull, placing it in the bag of holding, after Luck shrinks it down with his last remaining 2nd level slot of Enlarge/Reduce.

Before they leave, the party discuss what to do with the gold here. All this fortune could be used to help the neighboring settlements and the party agree to return one day and gather it, or send someone to gather it, who’d be careful enough to avoid the traps.

For a moment Luctan considers taking a bunch of gems, a thought crossing his mind. But Jun talks him out, bewhildered after the talk the group just had on the use of the coin.

On the way out, once the six of them make it back to the 1st level, Malak stands in the center of the open room and casts Destroy Undead to eliminate the Kobolds and the creature in the sarchophagus.

He destroys the Kobolds’ bodies, but the Mummy rises. Angry.

And a quick fight begins.

- On Luck’s turn, he casts Guiding Bolt, then charges in as he Action Surges and slices twice with Ena for some immense damage.

Then? The darndest thing happens once the Bard comes up.

Belli casts Polymorph and tries to turn the mummy into a baby. And insults it. “You’re just a stupid little baby.”

And-

And-and-

And it works?!

Jun is horrified by all of Belli’s anti-babyness and just leaves the room. The mummy baby tries to hurt Malak, but fails, as it teeths. The cleric isn’t even perturbed by the litteral ankle biter as he notes: “Hey Belli, remember that talk we had about traumatizing people?”

And Belli immensely apologizes for the situation at hand. It was a spur of the moment thing.

Not wanting to hurt a baby, even if the mummy wasn’t a real one, Mournimar looks to see if he has any intoxicants to just pass the time. But alas. He does not. He does not have the good kush.

Malak’s next. He slaps the baby, ending the toddler shenanigans and swings with the Fated Potential, damaging the creature for 5 slashing.

Luctan Mercifully finishes things off with a Quickened Guiding Bolt and a Nat 20 Slash of the King’s Blade and the Mummy’s dead.

It’s dead.

O. V. A. Ovah.

With no mention being made along the way, the party hotfoot it out of the tomb and walk over to Arryn, who was preparing dinner.

“Hot Diggity Dog”- Arryn, quoting the Dragonborn Tribes. As Luck presents the blade. When discussing what had transpired inside the home of the dead, the party ponder on the remaining dragon. Chances are the other black dragon was taken to the Capitol of Guan, which is where the party elects heading. To Necesills.

With that said, Arryn offers his stew to the party and the lot of them sit together and finally eat. During the meal, Belli receives a message in her head from Nel.

“Good evening, darlings! Just had a thought, I should probably let you know! Amelia and I will be relocating temporarily. Take care!”  Belli asks her what’s up. And then sends that in the form of a Sending spell so she can reply and not waste any spellslots on her turn.

Nel ran out of slots for it. Thanks to a work thing, Nel had to move. Amelia would have told the lot of them, when they returned, but Nel figured with her Sending it’d be a much more convenient messaging.

Belli learns that the two of them are relocating to a town called Havik. It’s the northern most town. It’s the last piece of civilization, while in Aetorumia.

With that said and done, the party prepare to get their shut eye, with watches and everything. But before they can get to that, someone clears their voice in the viscinity of the seven (+2 horses and Fey cat).

They look and-

It’s him again.

“Did you miss me?!” asks Ark’Niel with a smug expression on his face as he leans against a pillar in the sand.

Previous Episode / Next episode

[yourlocalslasher]

//Sugar// Bo Sinclair x Reader Pt 1

//A/n: So I originally wasn’t gonna do this but I really need something to pass the time with so here we are. It’ll be an ongoing story unless I change my mind,, I might end it about a month after quarantine. It’ll also be a fem reader, but I’ll try to keep it generic when I can.//

Word count: 1,239

*

*

*

You and a couple friends of yours had been on the road for a least 2 days now, and you were close to reaching the Texas border that led into Louisiana. The van you were driving was a mess, beer cans littering the floor, cigarette butts scattered in various corners, and 3 drunk friends passed out in the back.

The sun was just now falling behind the trees, leaving an amber glow in the sky. You checked your watch. "8:45. Great."

Your car passed a sign that read boldly, "WELCOME TO LOUISIANA!" Good. At least we're here. You thought to yourself. The traffic was light, allowing you to easily pass down the road. It was a quiet place, not many buildings. Only thing around was a couple of farm-houses and the occasional pickup truck.

After about 45 more minutes of driving deeper and deeper into the country, you stopped at a red light, the first in a long while. Your car pulled to a stop with a screech. You tapped your fingers on the wheel, mumbling to yourself about the slow light. Finally, the light turned green, and you shot off past the light.

Not even a second after, a deer lunged in front of the car, and you slammed on the breaks. The car spun off the edge of the road, knocking right into a tree. You didn't even have time to curse.

The vehicle slammed into the trunk, sending your face forward and onto the wheel. Blood trickled down your face.

"What the fuck was that?!" You turned around abruptly, having forgotten that you had your friends with you. They were in a heap in the floor, rubbing their heads and cursing at their sudden awakening.

"I- there was this deer a-and-" You went on, blood still spewing out of your nose. "Try not to fucking kill us next time Y/n!" F/n cried. "You aren't dead dumbass." Your other friend stated blankly. "But we should probably get out and check on the car. Its probably totaled." The last friend said.

With the press of a button, the car unlocked. The air was humid and hot. Swatting a few bugs out of your face, you examined the front of the car. "I'm in deep shit..." Panic flowed through your veins. The car was smashed in the front, steam leaving the rubble that was crumpled up against the tree.

This was bad. Very. Very. BAD. You knew damn well that if this car was damaged in any way shape or form your parents would kill you. Your hands shot to your head. "W-what now?! The car is fucking destroyed and we're in the middle of NOWHERE!!" Of course your panicked reaction earned you some eye rolls from your friends.

"Calm down Y/n." This just set you off. "Calm down. Calm down?! Excuse me?!" It was all such a mess. First you lose your keys down the drain in California, then you get bit by a tarantula in Arizona, and then you almost drown at a pool in Texas, and now you almost killed you and your friends in Louisiana.

You grabbed your phone, dialing the police. "Shit." No cell service. Things couldn't get any better. "Alright. Who's gonna venture out and find someone willing to help us?" "I dunno Y/n." F/n scratched the back of their neck, leaning on the car.

"You crashed the damn thing why don't you go?" F/n lit a cigarette, placing it in the corner of their lip.

"Y'know what? Fine." You threw your phone down, walking away from the accident. As you strayed farther from the wreck, you heard your friends argue. The moon was glowing brightly over the trees, and you saw a faint light around the corner.

You squinted, seeing a gas station lit up in the distance. Oh thank god. You thought. As you approached the station, you heard music. And to be honest, it wasn't good music. It sounded like screaming.

Slipping on some oil, you knocked hard on the metal door. You balanced yourself, peering in the window. Empty. You knew someone had to be here. The lights were on, and music was blasting. Someone was most definitely there.

It might not have been the right thing to do, but you needed help and you needed it now. You jammed your elbow on the door, slightly making it move. You were determined to get in there. Once again, you slammed your elbow against the door, and it finally cracked open just enough so that you could pry it open.

The air reeked of cigarettes, beer, and gasoline. Not too different from the van. The music was really taking a toll on your ears. It was awful in your opinion. You didn't know what you needed to fix the car, so it wasn't like you could find what you needed then leave.

"Hello?" Nothing. Silence except the music. You decided to walk to the back, over by the cash register. It was weird,, you hadn't seen anyone in this town since you arrived. You remembered a sign you passed on your walk to the gas station. "Ambrose." Ambrose. That must be the name of the town.

You rested your hand on the counter, inches away from the cash register. "An' what do you think you're doin darlin'?" A sudden voice caused you to jump. You turned around, facing a man in a mechanics suit and a hat.

His arms were folded, and he propped himself up in the doorway, leaning on it. He was handsome you had to admit,, but something was just...off. "I hope you weren't plannin' on stealin' were you sugar?" He had a nice smooth voice, tainted with some southern accent. The man straightened his hat. "Well?"

Completely having forgotten he asked you a question, you snapped out of your little trance. "Oh! I uh- no, n-no sir I wasn't gonna take anything I just needed some help-" He chuckled, stepping away from the doorway. "Car broke down?" "No. Crashed it." You answered, staring down at the floor.

He nodded, inhaling deeply. "Ight. Lemme take a look an' I'll see if I can fix 'er." The man stepped closer, picking up his box of tools to your right. "Oh an', the name's Bo." Bo gave a crooked smile, adjusting his hat with one hand while he held the toolbox under one arm.

"You know how to get back to your car?" Bo opened the door, letting you out first. You hesitated. Did you?  You stepped out into the air, which had drastically changed from the hot sticky air it once was. "I..." You paused in front of a car that Bo climbed into. "I don't think so..."

Bo mumbled under his breath, starting the car. "Fuck." He sighed, turning his head to the side. You climbed in on the passenger side, brushing some hair out of your face. "Well, the least we can do is look 'round for it." Bo pursed his lips, starting the car.

You drove off with Bo, inspecting the rest of the town. It was pitch black outside, except the yellow moon. The both of you drove deeper into the woods, the trees and forest becoming denser. The farther into the woods you drove, the less you trusted you were actually going to find the car.

Leaning on the edge of the door, you gazed out into the sky, watching the stars glisten.

[jaxsteamblog]

Legend

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

The metal under her feet made Sokka’s nervous tapping very obvious. In the mirror, Katara watched as Sokka held his chin and nodded, going over something in his head. But as his boots continued to tattoo against the floor, Katara sighed. The woman doing her hair paused, her hands hovering above Katara’s head, and looked nervously in the mirror.

“What is it, Sokka?” Katara asked.

At her question, Sokka stopped all of his movement and looked up at her. His eyes meeting hers through the mirror, his eyes were wide and innocent.

“Nothing?” He replied curiously. “I’m just thinking.”

“But why are you nervous?” Katara asked.

“I think I’m allowed to be nervous.” Sokka retorted.

“You’ve already gotten married!” Katara snapped.

Grinning, Sokka looked down and twisted his wedding band. “Yeah, but I knew that was going to be perfect so there was nothing to worry about.”

“And this is going to be fine.” Katara said with a sigh. “Why don’t you go check the flowers?”

“Why? Because I’m the florist and it’s my job?” Sokka asked.

Katara glared at his reflection and just grinned wider, standing from the couch behind her.

“Alright. I’ll come and get you in a little bit.” He said as he walked to the door. Once he was gone, Katara nodded to the hairdresser and she continued.

There were many things in life that Katara would never have chosen for herself but still ultimately enjoyed. This overly feminine dress up was not something she, or others, would assume about her, but Katara did enjoy the process. The whole group went for a spa treatment; Toph stayed longer in the mud bath than anyone else and it was almost impossible to get Zuko out of the steam room, but they all had a good time drinking tea in overly soft bathrobes.

Now the hair dressing was something that Katara relished. The oil and combs worked through her thick, wavy hair till it shone. Then it was braided, coiled, and pinned. Beads of colored glass and dyed bone that matched her dress were constellations in her hair. Two large, circular beads, holding the main loops on either side of her head, were carved with different symbols. One was the matched set of Tui and La, the other was the stylized version of the sun.

After the hair came the dress.

It was blue and cut to swirl around her body. Black fish swam around the hem and a spray of sea foam leaped up the bodice and down her arms. Katara touched the fabric lightly, fearing that it would dissolve under her fingers.

“You look beautiful, Majesty.” The attendants said. Katara smiled.

“Thank you.” She said.

Sokka came to collect her, wiping away tears as they walked down the cramped metal corridor. The sounds of the metal shifting were unnerving, but Katara focused on keeping herself calm. Coming to a door, Katara took a deep breath while Sokka pushed it open. Sunlight blinded her and she walked out holding a hand above her eyes.

“Oh my baby girl.” Hakoda said as he stepped into view, blocking the sunlight enough for Katara to see. Sokka was wearing a tux, but Hakoda had chosen to wear a traditional parka. The caribou skin was richly embroidered and his own hair had the same beads threaded in. Seeing him represent their home, Katara started to sniffle and Hakoda embraced her.

A breeze came up over the deck of the ship and blew Katara’s skirts, making her shiver. Hakoda chuckled and kissed the top of her head before putting his arm around her.

“Let’s go get you married.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. Katara nodded and they walked off to the side of the ship.

They stopped at the top of the ladder, Hakoda and Sokka standing at either side of her, and Katara shook out her hands. Just as she brought her arms up, Sokka yelled.

“Wait!” He said and darted off. Katara looked at Hakoda, puzzled, and then laughed as Sokka came sprinting back.

“Forgot your bouquet.” He huffed. The flowers were pristine - the whites, reds, and blues all distinct yet blending well together - and Sokka held them gingerly. Katara shook her head and gently brought her arms up, conducting the waves to her intended score.

The iceberg was a short distance away. She and Zuko had flattened the top yesterday, alternating between melting and reforming the ice. The audience now sat in glistening blue chairs of ice, while Zuko stood waiting. He stood out, dressed in red robes, but he wasn’t the only one. Rohan, fully dressed in orange robes, stood as the officiant. Suki, having quietly bonded with the Fire Lord over the years, wore her Kyoshi Warrior outfit as she stood at Zuko’s side.

Now, in the southern arctic sea - the only international waters that belonged to all four nations - Water joined the other elements.

The sides of Katara’s gown were woven wide, so her arms were able to move freely. Among their friends and family, and the few special political guests, Katara called up the sea to carry her across. Making a sheet of ice wide enough for the three of them to sand, Katara stood patiently with her father and brother as the water ferried them to the iceberg.

When they made it, Katara dismissed it as if she were shedding a cloak. Sokkka handed her the bouquet, kissed her cheek, and then walked to the altar. Hakoda wordlessly offered his arm and Katara took it, the two sharing a very small smile.

Speakers had been embedded in the ice, giving the sound better acoustics than if played in the open air. To a bridal march, Hakoda escorted Katara down the aisle.

“You look as pretty as Kya did on our wedding day.” Hakoda whispered as they approached the altar.

“Dad.” Katara gasped, abruptly in tears.

“Oh Kat, no tears. Look, the sun is shining and the ocean is beautiful. When your mother and I got married, it rained.” Hakoda said. They reached the altar and Katara could only nod. Hakoda then turned to Zuko and held out his hand.

As Zuko placed his hand in Hakoda’s, Katara looked at her intended.

“You don’t need my approval or blessing, but understand that I am here to support you.” Hakoda then joined Katara and Zuko’s hands. “I love you both.”

Zuko started to tear up and Katara chuckled. Hakoda kissed Katara’s forehead and went to sit down, making both Katara and Zuko start to sniffle as they stood in front of Rohan.

Rohan looked at both of them and smiled. They then held out their hands and looked at the rest of the audience.

“Today, we are all watching something amazing. For the world, we are seeing the first time that two nations have chosen love over all else. For us gathered here, we are witnessing something more important; the marriage of two of our favorite people.

“I have not known Katara for very long, but there is no way I couldn’t be in awe of her. At fifteen she bound her soul to the Ocean Spirit to protect her people in a place that was not her home. At sixteen, she sank the entire Fire Nation fleet to help swiftly end the Hundred Year War. She is the Avatar’s master, she is Queen of the Three Tribes, and most amazingly, she can routinely and on demand make the Fire Lord smile.” Rohan said and various people chuckled while Zuko ironically fought down a smile.

“Zuko I’ve known for longer. As a spiritual cousin, Zuko and I have been friends since we met. He is also the kindest person, as he has faced more ugliness in his life yet not only accepted it but moved through it with genuine compassion. And as a very wise man once told me, when one is clothed in honor, filth will not stain them.

“Zuko never asked for anything. He never asked for his position, but always did what was right. I certainly know that he never asked to be rewarded for his actions but, as you can see, he has been.” Rohan smiled at Zuko, who was more openly crying. Katara, handing back the bouquet to Sokka, took both of Zuko’s hands and squeezed them.

“Now, to the serious part. Katara, do you promise to respect Zuko, to treat him with dignity, and to honor his value as a person?” Rohan asked.

Katara smiled at Zuko. “I do.”

“Zuko, do you promise to respect Katara, to treat her with dignity, and to honor her value as a person?” Rohan continued.

Zuko smiled back at Katara. “I do.”

“May we have the rings?” Rohan looked from side to side.

Katara turned to take the band from Sokka, her hands shaking as she moved slowly back.

“The bride and groom have prepared their own vows.” Rohan announced and then leaned in toward Katara. “Go ahead.”

Taking Zuko’s left hand, Katara focused on his fingers as she spoke.

“Zuko,” She paused, took a breath, and brought her face up to look at him. “I have sworn to protect my people above all else. My place as Queen transcends any other oath or bond, save for my connection to La. But I give all of my earthly self to you. Every mortal want and faulty need, every good moment and every bad day, every morning bedhead and every nightly kiss are yours. Time will wash away our human lives, but it is in that tide where you and I will exist.”

She slid the band onto his ring finger and Zuko paused to take her ring from Suki.

“Katara, you have taught me the fallacy of opposites. After all, we can’t make tea without both fire and water.” He said and Katara laughed softly.

Zuko smiled and went on. “I promise to embrace the opposites with you. I promise to push when you pull, so that we can strengthen each other. I will be with you in every dark moment and every light. I will heal your sickness so I can rejoice in your health. I will abide with you in lean times, so that we may feast together in good ones. I know that nothing will ever stay the same, so I promise to never abandon you as we wait for the tide to come in.”

Zuko slipped the wedding band onto Katara’s ring finger and Rohan clapped their hands.

“With the promises made and the rings exchanged, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your pledge with a kiss.” They said.

Katara propelled herself at Zuko, who caught her and kissed her deeply. The gathered group cheered and applauded, fadinging into the sound of waves crashing against the iceberg.

It was then that rain started to fall.

With a yelp, Katara jumped back and Zuko put his arm around her shoulder as they both looked up.

“A sunshower?” He asked.

Frigid rain splattered on her face, running into her tears even as she smiled.

“Legend says a sunshower happens at a fox wedding.” Katara said and looked over at Zuko.

He smiled and kissed her again.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67