#and the fact heat and humidity kills me

[bitletsanddrabbles]

When the local cryptid has been asking for favors and leaving lousy tips for 400 years and the tourists may be freaking out but you're just over it.

[inf3ct3dd]

ACT 1. TROUBLE

summary: the plan hatches.

warnings: mentions of death, sex joke

wc: 3k

authors note: this fic has been my wonderfully niche vision for so long.... i hope you all enjoy

next chapter. masterlist

the unforgiving blaring heat of the desert was torturous.

the sun seemed to be beaming from right above, practically frying you and your companions skin as you treaded through the sand. one suffering the consequences worse than another, skin resembling a boiled lobster.

dry, chapped lips silently begging for water, only to be met with the sting of saltwater sweat dripping onto them. you can try to lick them away, but it will only worsen the pain. pain, your muscles ache and your bones feel as if they’ll crumble if you step forward once more. you needed…out.…of the heat……

ah, alas, a river! oh, how lovely, a quench to the terrible thirst…. you reach out towards it, cupping your hands to drink, and are met with the hot, cruel surface of a car door.

“are you done, r? you’re gonna set off the alarm.” ellie had destroyed your dramatic scene , rolling her eyes and slumping down on the concrete next to the car. her long ass jorts protected her skin from the heat of the ground.

“no, it can’t be! twas a mirage, my mind has fooled me!” draping a dramatic hand across your forehead, you’re met with a moist surface that you wipe away onto your shorts, falling next to the girl. your shorts however, did not protect you. you slightly hissed in pain, before bringing your knees to your chest.

“they shouldn’t have let you read othello. i think you’re actually going insane.” she bluntly remarks, offering you a light giggle.

your english teacher, honors english if you wanna brag, had just started a shakespeare unit, and you were over the moon. being the first to volunteer to read in class, writing your own gorgeous sonnets about even more gorgeous subjects , and torturing ellie with your constant chiming of “shall i compare thee to a midsummers day?”

“ugh, you hate to see a girl being theatrical.” with a quick roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms and pouted.

“yes, i do.”

ellie knew it wasn’t one of your actual sad pouts, like when she accidentally killed the snail you two found, but simply you being….theatrical. like your wonderful performance in the school musical last year, as sharpay in high school musical. was that fuckass blonde wig a disgrace? absolutely. but your wonderful acting skills distracted from it, or so you hoped.

“you know whats actually making me go insane? the fact that you made me walk to 7-11 in this heat!!! you tryna kill me?”

the taste of the slushy was still lingering in your mouth , along with the red color on your tounge, but the cold it brought was long gone.

“oh my lady, i would never do such a thing! but alas, i required a refreshment, and id hate to go alone.” ellie counters back in her own shitty-british accent , holding a hand to her chest.

“see, told you its fun.” you nudged her elbow with your own, sweaty limbs colliding with a gross “splat”.

“yeah yeah, whatever. you’re right about everything, my glorious queen-“

“indeed!” you interrupted, pout replaced with a cheeky smile.

you both sat for a second, catching your breath. your eyes wandered to ellies arms, and you noticed she had turned into a lobster. her arms were bright red and sunburnt, and you reached out to poke her.

“ow-fuck! why did you do that!!” she winced in pain, moving her arm away.

“jesus, why do you never put on sunscreen? you trying to get tan or something?”

“i didn’t think it would be this bad outside..”

“you’re stupid.”

“you’re mean..”

after a while of you both sitting in comfortable silence, both of your eyes fall on the vehicle across the street. it was the one thing you always loved staring at on this street. the ferrari was reflecting all the beams of ultraviolet hitting it, practically glowing in the humid hellscape. the dashboard and practically everything else was smothered in dust, the cause probably being its idle parking spot, same one it had been occupying since you and ellie were 5 years old. the black detailing and the shiny silver horse enchanted you, despite the cars mildly decrepit state. 13 years later, you wondered if it would even still run. wondered how the engine would feel rumbling underneath you as you pushed against the wind down the empty streets.

people always make driving seem so crazy and thrilling in movies. sharp turns, constant speeding, drifting, it was like the road was a rollercoaster. or maybe you had just watched too many fast and furious movies with your dad.

but every time you were in a car, you were calm. always having an arm out the window, sometimes waving your hand like the ocean, and others making finger legs and doing parkour off of the other cars. when it rained, especially at night, you’d always beg your dad to drive you around. you’d try to count the raindrops on the windshield , and often times you’d let the taps on the windows lull you to sleep.

you have many memories of your dad taking you on drives to get you to sleep. especially when you were younger, and didn’t want to go to bed because you ‘weren’t tired’. every time, he’d just say “you don’t have to sleep, just rest.” sometimes he’d sing the songs he burned onto his cds, other times he’d make lists of things you wanted to do the next day. but no matter what, within 10 minutes you were always out cold. most times he’d keep driving for a bit, just to make sure you were really sleeping, and then carry you as gently as possible up to your room.

now, you knew better than to try and make him carry you up the stairs. you’d have a dramatic stretch, and practically drag yourself to your house before flopping down on the couch. half of the time face first.

you never wanted to be the one driving, though. you didn’t trust yourself behind the wheel, thinking you’d get too relaxed and doze off the second you started driving. or get into a crash. every time you did bumper carts, you’d be the one annoying all the little kids by hitting them a thousand times with your car. plus, highways are scary as fuck.

but for some reason, every time you saw that car parked down your street, you imagined yourself behind the wheel. always with some of those cool ass driving gloves on, and the scorpion jacket ryan gosling had in drive. you’d drift like all those cool dudes in your dads movies, and never ever crash into anyone on the highway. you thought it was blessed with some spell that made everyone who drove it amazing at driving.

ellie had zero faith in you though.

“you’d total that thing in five seconds. do you not remember the last time you tried to drive?”

her rude remark reminded you of the “raspberry incident”, as you called it, from last summer. you were at your grandmas in the countryside, her in the passenger of her big ass suburban trying to teach you to drive in the raspberry fields. you had been pushing a bit hard on the gas a few times, making her tell you to “calm down” , but you were a damn good driver as far as you saw. but it allll went downhill when she made you practice turning. you had turned around one of the rows of berries perfectly, and you were driving a bit too fast to the next corner. but somehow, you turned on the wrong angle and drove straight into the berries. and to make things worse, you kept pushing the gas pedal on accident instead of the brakes. your grandma screaming at you to stop didn’t help much either. you had torn down no more than 1/5 of the row, but nothing happened to the car. a trip to the carwash and it was like nothing ever happened.

“that was soooo long ago. you weren’t even there either! what if i was just over exaggerating when i told you and it wasn’t that bad?”

“you calling yourself a liar?” ellie took a sip of her slushy. the one she made you take this whole treacherous journey for. she was somehow still nursing hers, while yours was in a trash can five blocks back.

“never. how are you still drinking that thing? we’ve been walking for like half an hour!” you grab the drink out of her hand, taking a sip for a biiit too long.

“hey! you can’t even ask? i spent my hard earned money on that thing.“

“oh please, it was only like 3 dollars. you sound like joel right now.”

you both chuckled. ellies dad acted just like yours, that’s probably why they’re such best friends. that and the two dead wives thing, they had a lot in common. and coincidentally, so did you and ellie. you knew each other since you came out of the womb. well, since you came out. ellie was there three weeks before you, and she never let you forget it. constantly on her “respect your elders” bullshit every time you punched her in the arm for stealing your food. you two were fighting over the same toys and blabbering to each other since birth. your parents were convinced you were some baby geniuses that had developed your own language with how much you ‘spoke’ to each other. you two always understood each other.

“whatever dude, i’d be a driving master in that thing. it’d probably be a total chick magnet too. i’d be cleaning that backseat every day.”

ellie poked you in the side at your joke, and you both shoved each other while you laughed.

“yeah, you and your spongebob boxers are definitely soooo seductive.”

“you can’t say shit, you have the matching patrick pair!”

almost half your closet was either clothes you took from ellies house, or ones you bought to match with her. your dad has a whole photo album of old pictures he took of you and her in your matching outfits. and you have a bin in the attic stacked to the brim with your matching halloween costumes. the one matching thing the two of you never took off was your necklaces. it was one of those basic hearts, two pieces of silver that fit together perfectly with “best friends” and an infinity sign engraved on it. you had begged your dad for it while you were at a beach store, and he reluctantly gave in. you had the ‘st ends’ side, and ellie had the ‘be fri’ one. no matter the occasion, even with the excessive amount of necklaces you always wore, that one was always a part of the stack. and ellie only ever wore the one. in fact, the only jewelry she ever wore was the bracelets you two had made for each other and her necklace.

“hey, they’re comfy! i love those things.”

“you know what i’d love?”

“deez nuts in your mouth??”

you slapped ellie on the arm , and she grabbed it in pain.

“fuck you! you know im sensitive right now!!”

“you’ll live. ANYWAYS, i was talking about the car.”

“pssht, who wouldn’t. who leaves a perfect 288 on the side of the road for this long?” ellies inner car-nerd spilled out,eyebrows furrowing in question.

you and ellie had dreamed of that car ever since you were barely taller than the side doors. pretending to drive it when she came over to yours, leaning against it as you ate your ice cream and accidentally setting off the alarm, even peering in through the windows occasionally. the white envelope with a small bulge always intrigued the two of you, desperately wondering what was inside of it. you’d never seen anyone get in or out of it, and you were surprised it lasted this long on this street.

“why’re you still on this anyway? its not like we’re gonna just steal it or something.”

when you stare back at her for a bit too long, she sighs at you and rolls her eyes. your dumb ideas almost always end horribly, and she wasn’t in for all that this summer.

like last year, when you two were working at this big outdoor restaurant. you had somehow convinced her to drive around one of the golf carts, and it ended with you accidentally ramming it into some dudes car. you both quit to avoid the guy, and you’ve never been back since.

“well, why not! i mean really ellie, I’ve seen you break into joels truck before. you could do it.”

it was an isolated incident. she had locked herself out of the car, and she used a random hanger she found in the mall parking lot to squeeze through the crack in the window and unlock the door.

“thats not the same as stealing some random car!!what if the dude who owns it is some mean gangster and he finds out we took his car and he fucking kills us??? or what if its full of a bunch of illegal shit and we get arrested while we’re driving it?”

“since when do you care this much about shit like that? you convinced me to keep a lizard in my closet for three weeks once. plus, do you really think anyone’s gonna come looking for it? that things been there longer than we’ve been alive.”

“even if we do steal it, what if it doesn’t even run anymore? and if it does, are we just gonna hotwire it every time we wanna drive?”

ellie was sadly thinking logically about this , and you weren’t having it. the pout on your face was growing bigger and bigger, and you rolled your eyes at her.

“you’re so boring.”

“im not boring, you’re just insane and impulsive.”

“besides, where would we even hide it? neither of us have a garage or anything.”

“you ask too many questions. come onnnn, this could be our little sappy senior year memory!! even if it goes like, totally wrong and we get arrested or some shit.”

you and ellies high school experience was..lackluster at most. no crazy adventures, no parties, no insane hookups, nothing. every movie about highschool you two had watched had completely lied to you, because it was boring as fuck. i mean, probably not for everyone else, but definitely for you two. this car would be a saving grace for you two, it could top off senior year perfectly.

“your idea of a great senior year memory is grand theft auto?”

“i mean, the games awesome. why not?”

she chuckled a bit at your bad joke, leaving a smile on your face. everything in her was telling her it was an awful idea, but you were giving her your most convincing puppy dog eyes, hands under your chin pleading to her.

you were amazing at persuading her, and the way your eyes practically sparkled when you spoke of even the mere idea of it sent her to the stars. how could she say no to you?

“…let me think about it.”

“WOOOO”

for ellie, ‘let me think about it’ was almost always code for yes. especially when it came to you. the two of you walked back to your house, ellie finally finishing her slushy. she chucked it in your garbage can before leaving you at your door. you tried to hug her goodbye, but she pushed you away.

“lobster skin. it still hurts. youll probably wanna hug me more tomorrow.”

and the next day, at 8:30, ellie showed up at your window with a toolbox smelling like aloe vera.

[nipuni]

Blog time Hello! We are back from our trip! I'd say I'm feeling refreshed but coming back to sweltering dry heat shut down that feeling very quickly. Now we are even more determined to move to the seaside within the year though 🏃‍♀️ It's incredible how much of an effect on your health the weather can have. These days we have been hiking for around 8 hours a day in the mountains and coast without breaking a sweat in 17-22ºc high humidity weather. In contrast, today back home we walked to the store five streets away in a dry 33ºc sun and we felt like throwing up and never leaving the house again lmao and it only gets much worse until september aaaa I can't wait to move out of the city and start a new colder and quieter phase of life where I don't have to dread the coming of summer every year!! But at the same time I've been feeling this trepidation about settling down somewhere permanently, I realized that every 5 years or so I get the itch to move somewhere new and it worries me a bit tbh, I hope it is just my fear of commitment acting up and the fact that we just haven't found the right place yet. And the longer we spend in this place the more we feel like it will be the right one so I'm hopeful!

We have also been watching more of David's filmography! we watched Des, Single Father, Recovery, Bad Samaritan and Deadwater Fell. We enjoyed Recovery, Single father and Deadwater Fell the most, all were really good!! then Des was decent and Bad Samaritan was terrible. But as expected David steals the show every time and you end up sitting through the most ridiculous scripts just to see him give it his all and elevate the whole thing with every scene lmao the sheer range of this man!! let me gush for a second, he goes from the most charming and pitiful train wreck you would kill to protect to the most terrifying monster of a person so effortlessly you can hardly tell it's the same actor. He is so outstandingly good at every role!! Anyway I love watching our little shows of our favourite guy with Nicolas everyday, it has been the highlight of my year 🥰

I've also been meaning to get back into games but I just can't find the right one! I tried the whole cozy farming/survival/sandbox game thing and came to the conclusion that it's not for me, I don't find them engaging enough so it ends up feeling like a time sink 😞 I also thought of going back to FFXIV but the new expansion doesn't sound like something I would really enjoy and while I love RPG I'm finding it hard to commit to 40+ hours of storyline lately, BG3, Cyberpunk 2077 and Disco Elysium have been sitting in my library for ages now and I can't bring myself to play them even tho I want to!! I'm hoping DA4 will get me back into the RPG mood. I've also played Hades II but I'm all out of content until release! Maybe shooters will do the trick, something fast paced I can play for a little bit as a distraction from work. I've been meaning to check how Warframe is doing too, I love it and haven't played in ages, and every time I check it's like a completely different game so that could be fun! but I'm rambling now, if you have any game recommendations let me know! I hope you are all doing well 😊 I'll get back to drawing now and will share some sea pictures later!

[snowvies]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜.𝐝

cedric diggory x fem!reader

"my white dress is getting wet, and your lips taste like vanilla..."

.

the heat was ruining you all summer.

bright rays the sun sent out through the window of the diggorys home blinding you as you slip your white summer dress on

the heat didn't even creep up on you as sweat stayed put on your pores and your face gave a sheen

as you made your way downstairs and heard pots and pans shifting, remembering the fact that you were going over to the Weasleys for lunch, making your way to the kitchen you saw Mrs.Diggory taking that opportunity as she washed the dishes

you leaned your head against the doorway and closed your eyes and let the cold fan run over you, just for a colder hand to be placed on your shoulder.

you melted into it as your eyes dizzily opened to see Cedric. he grinned, leaning down to kiss you as his mom scolded him

"help me out with these dishes, Ced." she sighed, wiping her hands on a rag as Cedric moved towards the sink without hesitation

"So.." you start,

"Do the Weasleys have a pool by any chance?" you question, slightly begging for a yes, jumping into cold water sounds like a dream right now.

you got a sympathetic smile from Cedrics' mother as she shook her head

"afraid not, but there's a lake close to their home...sure that's about as hot as the air though."

you almost winced at her answer, closing your eyes again as the sticky heat molded to your body

"Is it..." you heard Cedrics voice question, your eyes shot open and saw his squinting in front of the kitchen window above the sink

"raining?"

you gasped, running over to him as you poked your head to see for yourself. blue sky foggy and the grass lush as rain sprinkled everywhere, you let a surprised laugh escape your lips and rushed outside with Cedrics' hand in yours

you giggled when the warm rain met your skin, the humidity dying down as the thin rain coated you and the sky was no longer golden but a deep blue

you ran in the slippery grass as it relished in the drink just as much as you did, you turned to pull Cedric closer as the grin never left both of your lips

you moved to lock your lips together as the taste of vanilla flooded your tongue, your fingers slid easily on his hair to bring him closer as the summer blessed you with rain.

an: the heat has been killing me! making this for my imaginary relief!

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Izutsumi! and Elves

Chilchuck my love, you so fucking asked for that one.

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You woke him from his nap!!

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Asfslkfjsk was the fact that Senshi accidentally made this guy in the show? I don't remember it.

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I love how this fight showcases how fast Izutsumi is. Girl's got a Dex of like 22.

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Fuckin' tragic that this is just a chapter cover and they never actually, so far as I'm aware, dress in sheepskins the way they dressed in frogskins.

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Not to be Edgy(TM) but I'm pretty sure that by this definition, humans, especially magic-users, are also "monsters."

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The green-growing, snow-free cavern with the barometz suddenly appearing is I'm pretty sure the most blatant the dungeon has been so far about giving people what they want - except possibly for this usually hot & humid floor being freezing in the first place, just because Laios said he didn't like the heat.

I hope it keeps doing this sort of thing after he becomes king. I know that's not how this works but god I love a sentient land, especially one that tries to accommodate its people. Alas that this one's all a honey trap for flies.

.

It's very clear to me that, while Izutsumi may genuinely prefer to avoid strenuous effort, either physical or emotional, most of her argument with Marcille in this chapter is about her testing the boundaries of the group's tolerance for her. Where she was before, they'd tell her, "You'd think you could be a little more grateful to us for taking you in." And this is a philosophy that Tade, Izutsumi's closest friend and the one other subordinate-due-to-species person among them, bought into:

Izutsumi was skeptical...but that's still what she lived with. Until now, with this new group, where she's getting mixed messages - or, what feels like mixed messages, between what the group does and says and what she thinks they're saying based on her past experience.

Chilchuck calls her a beast, then basically has her act as distracting bait for a dangerous period of time while the rest of the party (is busy being injured or tending to the injured) does nothing to help, and all Chilchuck does to help Izutsumi kill the ice golem is mark its weak point for her. But then he compliments her skills, apologizes for being rude, and gives her her own pack and bedroll, truly welcoming her to the group. And when she remarks sarcastically that nobody cares about a beast being naked, Marcille only redoubles her efforts to help her keep her modesty, while the others bind Laios's eyes because he's the one who's going to Make It Weird - not Izursumi. Laios stays blindfolded throughout the steam bath scene because the party respects Izutsumi as a person.

So then she starts that fight over food, partly because she genuinely doesn't want to eat gross things - and more importantly, doesn't want to risk becoming even more a monster than most people already view her. But also because she wants, perhaps subconsciously, to see what happens when she's "supposed" to be a "team member" now but she disobeys the more senior members of the group.

This chapter threads two needles, builds two distinctions: between "earning your place" and "pulling your fair weight", and between "doing things you don't like for others (on their orders/for their goals)" and "doing things you don't like for you (for your own goals)." I think it...could do better at it? Like, Tade is kinda failing at step 1, because it's not clear to me that she realizes needing to "be useful" in order to stay is inherently fucked up. But she DOES think of that as her personal goal, even if it's actually externally imposed, and she's okay with putting in hard, sometimes unpleasant work in order to achieve it.

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Kabru internally, triumphantly: CAHOOOOOOOOTS!

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{fond sigh} the Elves from the West on their white ships with avian figureheads... They may be dicks, but we do love a Tolkien reference.

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CANARIES IN THE COAL MINE. I have NO idea if that translation is intended but my god I love it. If it's deliberate, is it a subversion of that concept or is it an indication of what the Elvish government thinks of their crack team of dungeon-delvers?

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BIGGEST, BLUEST EYES OF PERFECT* HONESTY*...followed by the visible pupils of honest evasion. Man, I'm really enjoying the Shuro-Kabru dynamic here, too? Shuro like, "Don't bullshit me. I'm a prince. I'm willing to help, but I know a politician when I see one." They vibe, your honor. They bonded over one of the weirdest and most traumatic meals of both their lives.

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LMAOOOO. This was NOT in the show!

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I love how Namari greets him excitedly and immediately asks for news of Falin, and Shuro says nothing but, really, everything; and Namari changes the subject to something lighter that's still gossip about their friends. I don't really expect it to happen but I'd LOVE to see the whole old Touden party reunite in battle or just around a campfire again, because it's clear they were a very good party of dungeon-competent people who worked and got along well together.

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Srsly though the opening view of this scene is such eloquent dynamic-establishing, vis a vis the elves relationship with the Island Lord and, well, everyone else here. We heard people muttering nervously in the streets, we heard Kabru's brief but heartfelt story of Utaya... And now we get this:

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The words of a man who would definitely for sure not have a single problem, not a one!

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Wait, what shady side business did Shuro have?! I love that Chilchuck is objectively the most reputable person in the party... Except really he fits in with the others: I bet a lot of parties don't want to hire That Bitchy Pushy Halffoot, any more than they want to hire an Easterner with weird vibes or the daughter of an infamous thief. (Or a mysterious elvish mage who won't explain her real reasons for wanting to explore dungeons, but Marcille would've joined the Touden party anyway, for Falin.)

It shows how Laios's trust of others pays off just as often as it doesn't.

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THIS IS IT, THIS SORT OF IMAGINE SPOT IS WHY I LOVE KABRU VERY MUCH.

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THE WORDS OF A MAN WHO WILL DEFINITELY FOR SURE NOT HAVE A SINGLE PROBLEM, NOT A ONE!

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...hot.

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kitty cat

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I like how this sort of comment is obviously genuinely hurting Laios, and Chilchuck does kinda genuinely mean it, but also he's saying it more reflexively than anything. Laios says or does something Particularly Fucking Weird; Chilchuck comments and keeps going along with him. I do look forward to Chilchuck growing accepting of Laios's weirdness rather than just resigned, but it's a good character beat all around.

[the---hermit]

04|07|2024

I have been wanting to write a little update for a few days, but I have been simply too tired mentally to do so. I have also been quite busy, taking my last exam, working in my family's store, tending my garden and doing a lot of cooking. As I was mentioning I feel very tired, I think it's a mix of the exam season stress leaving my body, the humid heat that is really making me feel weak, and the fact that having so much to do takes a lot of mental energies. I still have quite a few busy days ahead of me, but hopefully I will start feeling a bit more energized soon. I am really looking forward to properly enter summer break mode. I have also been finally getting out of my reading slump which makes me very happy. I have a few books I am very much looking forward to read. I also have a few book reviews to write and post, but I doubt that will happen soon.

📖: Il Glicine Rampicante e altre storie gotico femministe by Charlotte P. Gillman, Something Is Killing The Children vol.7

[autisticlancemcclain]

parts one two three

———

The first emotion Keith feels, immediately upon waking, is intense dread.

And if that doesn’t sum up the day he’s about to have. Fuck’s sake.

He already feels pretty guilty about yesterday. Besides the fact that Lance is his right hand man — they’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and Keith definitely didn’t have Lance’s, because even though Lance wasn’t in the right he wasn’t in the wrong either — and they’re supposed to be leading this as a team, Keith knows part of the reason things fell apart so quickly is because he didn’t talk to Lance last night. He probably couldn’t’ve convinced Lance to kill the beast, obviously, but they could have definitely explored some different angles together. By letting things fester, Keith pretty much ensured that Lance was going to come up with some elaborate, dangerous scheme that was going to cost them an alliance, and worse, possibly get Lance hurt or killed. (Lance had a good track record with dangerous animals, sure, but this is a beast. The thing sounded like a mix between a polar bear and a dragon. There’s only so much Lance can do, uncanny abilities or not.)

But what’s done is done. Keith can’t very well redo yesterday and make Lance un-mad at him and everyone else, so he’ll have to make do with what he’s got.

And what he’s got is first shift on make-sure-Lance-doesn’t-mutiny-duty.

Fuck, Keith thinks as he makes his way out of his room, this is going to be the Actual Worst.

As usual, Keith is one of the first people on the bridge. Unusually, Lance is next. (Usually he is last, and also late).

“Hey, Lance,” Keith says, trying to muster up a smile.

Surprisingly, Lance beams right back. “Hello, Numb — uh,” his smile falters. “I mean, hi there, Mullet.”

Keith slumps. “I’m still Mullet, huh.”

Lance nods.

“You reckon I’ll work my way back up to Keith, soon? I’ll do anything, you know I will. I’ll even try your horrible face mask with you.”

To his further surprise — Lance must have actually slept well, or something — Lance smiles again, and this time it’s soft even to Keith’s eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

“I’d do anything for you,” Keith says, and it’s more than he means to.

Lance frowns, and Keith’s heart sinks for the millionth time in just a few hours.

“Except help me save an innocent animal’s life,” he says, and there’s nothing Keith can say to that.

They sit in tense silence until the rest of the paladins arrive.

Shiro counts them once they do, like they’re kindergarteners and he’s a very tired EA, and furrows his brow when he finishes.

“Six. Including me. Who are we — where’s Coran?”

“He said he’ll be here in a few dobashes,” Lance says. “A calibrator broke down in the control room somewhere — nothing urgent, but he wants to get it fixed to get it out of the way. He’ll be back before we’re gone long.”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Lance,” Allura says, transparently trying to ease the tense line of his shoulders, a little.

It does not work. Lance sets his jaw and looks away.

Allura sighs. “I’m sorry, Lance,” she tries. “I know this is hard for you. If it were possible, and we had more time, we’d find another way.”

“Whatever.”

Keith decides that enough is probably enough. Allura and Shiro look genuinely dejected and apologetic, and both Pidge and Hunk look upset.

“Look, Lance, this situation sucks for everyone, okay? It sucks. We’re going to do what we can. If we get to the situation in question and we can actually manage to fix things without killing the beast, then that’s what we’ll do, okay? We’ll do our best.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. He looks… guilty, and his guilt certainly does nothing to appease Keith’s.

“Sorry,” Lance mutters. “I know this is hard for everyone.”

Keith swallows the lump in his throat. He genuinely can’t remember the last time a non-major battle mission sucked so unequivocally for everyone involved, but Jesus Christ.

“Let’s just go,” he says, and everyone nods before following him off the castle and to the wet, humid heat of the planet.

———

part four

[monsterfloofs]

Ary (Female Reptilian Alien) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Writing some cuteness about two beings out in space >:3 Platonic luff or romantic luff, I am leaving it up to you, dear reader. )

Space is cold. That's the first thing that gets drilled into your skull once you become a spacefarer. The glittering sky may look beautiful from afar, but it is a vacuum after all. Unprotected, Your blood would boil, your lungs would collapse and ultimately, your body would freeze over from the cold.

With all the technology at the galaxy's disposal, none is more precious, more imperative than the suit you wear and the metal transport that keeps its crew cradled below its multitude of decks.

With heat being so important, some places within the ship needed it more than others. Vegetation that couldn't grow without expensive artificial sunbeams taking precedence over other areas of the ship. Food was a necessity, and some comfort had to be given up for that precious resource. The crew's cabins were, unfortunately, one of those places where a little heat had to be forfeit for the greater good. While these areas of the ship could be on the chillier side, intelligent ingenuity would find a way to make it work.

And make it work, we did.

Chilled fingers fumbled with the controls of heating blankets before you duck your head and sneak back under the covers.

"Whew, okay, done and done."

You catch the glint of the eerie shine of an eye under the blankets before toasty fingers wrap around your own. Ary was your cabin mate, and the two of you had bonded thick as thieves due to the cold climate onboard. They were a reptilian with cold green blood and a sensitive disposition to climate change. They were one of the agriculturists, working in the hot and humid biosphere on deck five. Quick on their feet and witty in the warm sunshine. Yet, outside of that environment the cold took a toll on her. She became sluggish and tired, never without a cup of something hot, with a special biosuit that helped regulate their temperature.

The two of you huddled closer together underneath the makeshift tent. Flexing your fingers as heat returned and a dull ache settled in the joints.

"Is it just me or are the sleep cycles the coldest?" Ary's voice whispers next to you.

You laugh, "I was thinking the same thing!" You shudder and the two of you huddle closer together. You tap your watch and hold it out, dim orange light filtering into the space.

"We left off on. . ."

"Episode 6," Ary supplied eagerly, learning their head against yours. "It's where Lord Zenra discovers a stowaway on his regency ship, who is in fact Princess Ezie, who went into hiding because her homeworld was under attack and now she attempts to plead with the Lord to help save her home."

You glanced up at Ary's wide eyes, "Did you skip ahead?"

"No!" Slitted pupils flared round, "But I am pretty sure I have rewatched each episode about five times! Hit the play button already, you're killing me!" You cackle, and the two of you relax back, watching the holographic screen flicker with action until sleep comes.

You wake up nose to nose with Ary, giving a small smile, before pulling back the covers. The reptilian hisses and grumbles, pulling the blanket nest tighter around them to keep away the sudden chill.

"Are you going to get up and have breakfast with me?"

You laugh as you see the tip of her snoot peek out of the blankets.

"Do I have to?"

"If you want breakfast!" You check your com, "It'll be over in an hour or so, so we got some time still but. . ."

You could already see the snoot slowly receding back into the blankets.

"Don't need it. Need bed more."

As much as you agreed with that sentiment, someone had to be the voice of reason, "The faster you get out of bed and get breakfast, that faster you can get into the biosphere~"

Ary grumbled again, "Five more minutes, save a tray for me."

Well, that was that. You give yourself a moment to reflect on how good of a friend you are, for coercing your roommate to leave a toasty bed for a nutritious meal of something that looked somewhat edible. “That’s a pat on the back for me,” you mumble before your body decides that this is the perfect moment to do a full out shudder. You shake your head, and pick up the pace to the mess hall. The faster you can grab a cuppa something warm, the sooner you can stop shivering. You grab two plates and build up two different diet routines. One more on the heavily protein side with different kinds of dried meat and some purplish nut that you have lovingly deemed “almost almonds,” the other plate is a more varied kind, with hot rod red leafy greens, and fruit that is so grey and wrinkled, it looks as if it can’t decide if it wants to break out in mold, or if it’s too shriveled to care. It tastes a lot better than it looks. Thank goodness.

You balance the trays to a table, before you scamper back to get two piping hot mugs of something the troop calls “Space Sludge,” some beings onboard think it tastes terrible, as for you yourself, you aren’t sure if your taste buds have adapted enough to pick up what some beings abhor about the drink. It tastes like a very nutty tasting tea, as if someone threw in a whole spoonful and a half of peanut butter into it. A little odd, but it’s warm, and that’s what matters. You heard from Ary that the drink is one of those close to universal beverages. She would know, she’s part of the team working towards life sustainability on the ship. You can’t imagine what that job would be like. Referencing and re-referencing the crew to make sure that one being on board wouldn’t get poisoned by what some folks could eat a truck load of without batting an eye. It sounded terrifying.

Thinking of Ary must have summoned Ary, for you feel hands hug you from behind.

”It’s too cold out here,” She pulls you closer, nose pressed against the back of your neck which makes you start. “Cosmic creepers, your nose is an ice cube!” You wriggle to try and get away. “Stop, stop, I was just warming up!” She giggles and feigns a wide eyed snuffle as you squint at her. You do another one of the blasted full body shudders and you wriggle uncomfortably. “Brrrrrrr! You’re terrible!”

Ary sticks her purple tongue out and slides across the table to sit across from you. “At least I don’t stick my cold feet on your legs in the middle of the night.”

You grin, one shoulder raising and tilt your head, having your own evil giggle. “Ehehehehe, that was so funny though-“

“Funny for you! I woke up thinking something was grabbing my legs!”

”I can’t help it, I was asleep!” You try to explain yourself while you laugh. It was an age old conversation that the two of you ran through. This shared memory was something you would never live down. It was one of the first times the two of you had pushed your bunks together and shared a bed to keep warm. You had fallen asleep and hadn’t realized you had moved. You had been so cold it apparently woke Ary up squealing, and you had woken up in a groggy stupor. It was absolute chaos, and yet, after that you had been inseparable.

You pick at the food on your plate, pressing your lips together tightly to stop from giggling. Ary drinking from their mug. It was times like these when you two were together that the whole place fell away. It was just you and her, existing together, and nothing else seemed to really matter. The cold wasn’t a problem anymore, together the both of you seemed to diminish the effect of things. Struggles became merely challenges, something to puzzle through as a team. You wondered if she knew that, how much her presence brightened up your whole existence.

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

[gtgbabie0]

Could you write some more lifeguard! James Potter(if it’s not too much trouble) I loved the first blurb of that! Thank you!

Sneaking

{Lifeguard!James sneaks you into the pool he works at}

Of course, I can lovely! Hope you enjoy 💕

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Warm summer nights like this are the worst, the air is so thick with humidity that it makes it hard to breathe and everything feels so much heavier than usual, as if gravity somehow increased with the hot summer heat. You had hoped that the night might bring a cool breeze, yet there was nothing but still air.

However, luckily for you, James was given the keys to the pool he worked at, a stupid play on their part. You convinced him to sneak you both in, just to cool down and he tried his best to persuade you against the idea, with ice cream but to avail, you were stubborn.

“My boss will kill me if she finds out” James huffs, watching you get undressed, leaving you in nothing but your swimsuit. It was a stupid idea he knows that deep down, but god, you were impossible to say no to.

You look over to him, frowning when you realise he’s still dressed, “She won’t know- come on James" You sigh as he looks at you with an unimpressed look, " You know, Remus was right you’ve gone soft” You giggle at the way he gawks at you in disbelief as if he can’t believe the words that just left your mouth.

“Gone soft? He said that?” He asks, taking off his shirt and throwing it next to yours, “Gone soft- as if” he scoffs grabbing your hand and before you can even process what’s happening he’s already jumping into the cool water, taking you right with him with a splash.

“James?! What happened to sneaking?” You whisper-shout, tucking your hair behind your ears as you watch him run a hand through his. He smirks swimming over to you with a slight chuckle.

James shushes you, and you watch as a playful look flickers through his brown eyes, and you know you’re about to eat your words. His hands grasp at your hips, tugging you towards him. “You’re so pretty” he whispers, noticing how the moonlit water reflects against your soft skin.

His lips find yours as your arms wrap around his neck, keeping you balanced, as you urge him closer to you and the water ripples with the movement. “So pretty” he agrees with himself, his supple lips trailing down to your jaw, then across your neck.

He’s so unbelievably sweet, and his words have you feeling all fluttery as if you were flying. You giggle at the ticklish kisses he leaves and you feel him smile against your dewy skin.

“James” you sigh as his hands run across your hips traversing against your back, he pulls you closer against him.

You lose yourself in the soft feeling, and the last thing you expect is for him to splash you with water, you gasp at the sudden cold feeling pushing his shoulder, “You absolute prick!” You gasp suddenly not caring about the fact you’re technically trespassing.

You flick the water up at him watching as he flinches slightly trying to dodge your attacks. “Shhh shh- Hun, you gotta be quiet,” he says, his hands up in defeat as you continue to splash him with water.

But you don’t stop, you’re having way too much fun and James can’t help but admire you, the way you practically shine with nothing but pure joy. Not a care in the world, just as it should be.

His fingers wrap around your wrists stopping your relentless attacks as he pulls you closer to him once again, your hands immediately grab onto his shoulders.

You notice how tiny droplets of water drip from his curls, that stick to his sun-kissed skin, trickling down the curve of his jaw. “I love you” he smiles bashfully, he can’t help it, not with the way you’re looking at him as if you’ve just won the lottery.

“I love you too James” you whisper, his lips against yours although you can’t really call it a kiss because you both are smiling uncontrollably. He rests his head against yours as you both giggle.

Then his phone rings and it causes you both to jump, he swims over to where it lays on top of his pile of clothes. “It’s Moony” he lets you know, looking over at you, “Come on sweetness, let’s go home” he says, although he sounds like he’s trying to reason with you more than anything.

You nod, deciding against giving him a hard time, and you chuckle at the small sigh of relief that leaves his lips.

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[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi, can I have some fluff/comfort with a bit of angst please? I have a very bad memory and am quite an anxious person. Sometimes (quite often) not remembering something makes me paranoic. I would really love to get some comfort from a Yautja (male or female, can be a specific like Gawtin or Vic'tao). Thanks!

Remembrance

Pairing: Gawtin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3688

Summary: No matter what you do, you lose something. A pencil you just had eyes on. It's gone. You get up to eat and fill up your bottles. The moment you step out of the room, the thought has been plucked from your mind. Beyond everything, you are growing with frustration. It's starting to pile up.

Author Note: I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get to. Work has pushed my hours past what I want lately (not that I'm complaining about hours, never). It just leaves with no energy or time to write or have freetime. I will be keeping my asks closed for a little longer. I have a couple personal projects I need to finish first.

P.s. Thank you so much for letting me do Gawtin. I love writing about her!

Masterlist

Ao3

This is not beta read, sorry!

One step into the kitchen and the thought on your mind was plucked out. All you could do was staring blankly at the wooden floors. Thoughts were running wild inside of your brain. What were you doing? There was a reason you had come to kitchen. What was it? You chewed at your bottom and tasted blood. Crap, you had torn open the newly scabbed wound.

Your fingers started to twitch, buzzing with energy. With a disappointed shake of your head, you pivoted back around and marched back towards the extra bedroom. Your art room. Gawtin had gifted it to you when the supplies she had been collecting were piling up. You had felt bad for taking up more of her space in her own home. Gawtin wouldn’t let that pass though, stating this was your space as much as hers. All she wants in ‘return’ was to watch you work sometimes.

Gawtin liked to reference watching T.V. on earth. You retorted with the fact it must be a boring show to observe. She never complained. The amazement in her eyes at each stroke of your pencil or brush made you blush.

Art colorful and bland covered the walls. Some painted, others sketches. The last little bit were colored with pencils. That’s a skill you still struggled and didn’t like to put up those finished ones yet. They weren’t up to your standards.

At this point, you had even forgotten that you had forgotten what you were originally doing before leaving here. You sat heavily down in your chair once more and set down your water bottle. It squeaked underneath your weight but stayed sturdy. Another present from Gawtin, the goddess herself.

Said yautja had left earlier, closely after the morning sun had breached the horizon. Rosy, soft fingers spreading out on the yellow-blue sky. Yautja Prime vastly different than earth. Even when the sun fell below and hid away for countless hours, the forest produced a sweating heat during this season. You’ve come to feel a frustrated anger for the hot season. You weren’t built for this weather, no matter where you lived before.

Being human could have it perks out in the universe. When it came to adapting, you did that well. A biting cold, a jacket would do you good. This heat though. A swim in the lake nearby could cool you, if it wasn’t for your ankles getting bitten off a danger. Come to Yautja Prime where everything wanted to kill you and more!

Don’t kid yourself though. Yautja Prime was extraordinary in its own way. It’s not as diverse to biomes as earth. It holds a constant warm climate over everyone, gripping it in a tight grasp. The humidity was horrible. You’ve taken a trip to Hawaii before. This didn’t compare to that. In the end you wouldn’t trade being here than being back on your planet.

Your stomach growled and twisted. Hungry? How were you hungry? When was the-you were going to the kitchen for food! And to fill up on your water bottle. How in the world were you alive at this point with forgetting things like that? Important things as well.

Some days you wondered if Gawtin truly likes you or a small part of her thundering heart pities you. Maybe she thinks of you like Qui? Small, frail, weak. Nothing more, just to protect you from the harsh world you live in. Well, now it was the universe. You shook your head though to clear those thoughts and stood up from the chair. The once discard bottle returned your hand.

The kitchen was midsize. It fit well in Gawtin’s dwelling. Not too big nor too small. A portion had been changed to fit for more variety for yourself. You smiled at the reminder of how much she loved you before going to the fridge for water.

Unlike Gawtin herself, you’re unable to drink straight from the spring nearby. You learned that the first few days you were here. Never. Again. That was one day you wished to perish to the depths of hell and never come back. Worst of all, it was embarrassing. Right in front of Gawtin. But like the steady Yautja she is, she didn’t waver. She just fretted over you, questioning what had happened. One day you hate to recall.

So, Gawtin retrieved a water purifier just for you. It’s design similar to those back home. Praise the lord. You filled up the metal bottle you had and scanned through the fridge. The goddess herself hadn’t let you know when she would return. It couldn’t be long since she left Qui for a nap. She trusted you to care for the child but knew it could overwhelm you at points. God, you loved that alien so much.

The door was closed with your hip once an assortment of berries in a bowl had been chosen. Nothing poisonous, that you’ve learned of yet. You strolled back towards the art room when you heard the front door slide open.

Instinctually, you twirled around to face the known form at the door. There, in all of her glory, stood Gawtin. Not a thing was out of place on her. Perfect, as always. “Hey, love!” you greeted and changed your path to move towards her. Said alien moved into the dwelling and spread her out.

If you were Yautja, you would take offence at the dominate display. You weren’t though. You bounded over to her and embraced her. Gawtin returned not a second later the action and purred. “It is good to see you, artful one,” she said, voice vibrating with her purrs. She gave one last squeeze then released you. “Hmm, those a good choice for a snack.”

That sparked an idea inside of you cranum. You plucked one of the berries from the bowl and held it up to her. With a skill that takes years to master, she pinches the round fruit from your hands and eats it. How she is able to do that? You have no clue.

.

The pencil. Gone. Poof! Where had it gone? One moment it was in your hands. The next, gone from sight and mind. You had just set it down. It had to be right here, on your desk. You had set it down for one second to grab something else. Now it was gone. A groan vibrated your ribcage as you slid down awkwardly in the comfortable chair.

Why does this happen to you? It keeps happening too. One day… it’s going to escalate. One day, it’s going to be a damn pencil. The next, the child. Said child was more than happy on his spot next to you.

Similar to a cat, you created a blanket nest he loves to curl up in and watch you. Those eyes, just like his father, observed every move made. Maybe one day, he’ll have a little artistic side like yourself. It’ll be overpowered by his mother’s side of hunting and learning to survive. But one day, you would love to see what can create with his hands.

Qui clicked something, small mandibles tapping one another. This drew your attention fully down to him, painting, food, and water discarded. “Wassup, kiddo?” you questioned. He was you responsibility for the moment. His mother placed that into your hands to care for him. Plus, a tiny part of your brain saw him as your own kid. You won’t bring that up, ever. You don’t want to confuse or ruin the little family you had going on here.

All he did in response was garble baby talk at you. You snorted with a shake of your head, unable to understand a lick of what he had said. Almost two years of learning of Yautja for yourself and it did nothing to save you in this situation. “Okay then. Have you seen my pencil though? It has decided to disappear.”

Those big eyes of his stare deep into your soul. Hmm, right. No translator either for him. He has listened to you and Gawtin speak in English, but he first needs to learn Yautja. You made motion with your hands as if you were drawing or writing. This seemed to connect the dots inside of his head. Qui-oky brough up a stubby hand to the side of his head and patted. This confused you. Well, you should save, you must’ve puzzled the child with the motion.

When you seemed to not understand him, he reinforced the patting then pointed past you, by your head. Dumbfounded, you turned to see what Qui was motioning towards. As you turned, he screeched with frustration. Your head whipped back down to him, brows heavily furrowed. What in the world?! You’ve only heard him make that noise twice.

With a grumble, the kid stood up on wobbly legs and stumbled over to you. His tiny hands grasped at the clothing on your legs and pulled. It took you a moment to realize he wanted up. You helped him in your lap. Qui unsteadily stood up and tugged on something tucked on top of your ear. That’s when it hit you, hard.

The pencil. It was right there. The whole time. Your lips pressed together as you chewed at the inside of your cheek. With all of your efforts, you were able to stop tears from springing to life.

Qui held the pencil in front of you with a knowing look that you easily read: ‘I was trying to tell you this whole time’. Out of the years of your life, this was one of the most embarrassing times you have ever experienced. A heavy, hot blush raced up from your neck, all the way to the tips of you ears. “Th-thanks, Qui,” you mumbled and grasped the pencil.

Once he believed you could be left with the pencil, he carefully clambered down. The small Yautja returned to his blanket bed and pulled a pelt over him.

It left you stumbling about with your trembling emotions. In the moment, all you could do was peer at the piece of wood and graphite in your shaking hand. How could you fail so hard with simple tasks? Every. Single. Day.

Forgetting to eat. A normal person wouldn’t do that. Or drinking. How could anyone forget to do that? You. You could. An object gets placed down, for just a second and its lost to the voids of the universe. Like this damn pencil. But that’s not all you’ve lost and found – or not. Canvases, brushes, paint, books, etc. The list could go on and on and on.

Your bottom lip wobble. Your eyes burned. No! You weren’t going to cry. You’re stronger than that. Get over it. Any words of encouragement you gave to yourself wasn’t working. With a push harder than you meant to you, you stood up from your chair and marched out of the room. Moving was good. It helped you work out buzzing nerves.

In most cases.

Not this time.

It felt like moving just made your shaking worse. Why was it so hard to remember things? Such a simple thing part of human life and you can fucking do that. And the kid. You fully heartily knew he didn’t mean any harm but it pushed you over the edge.

All of this was piling over the course the day. Probably the course of the month. This had been getting worse lately. For what reason, you had no clue. It kept nagging at you each time you had remembered what had been forgotten. Such a failure. What was Gawtin thinking when she had to help or see you like this? Forgetting easy things around the house. A cup left in the wrong place. A pelt tucked away somewhere you never had put it.

The front door slides open. Your pacing – one creating a hole into the ground – stopped at the sound. Your head whipped to find the goddess in green standing in the doorway. Those vibrant purple eyes already locked onto the moment she was revealed. Your heart stuttered at the sight of her, haloed by the bright, harsh sun that beats down on this planet.

Her predatory eyes softened. It was like she could read your mind and emotions. She knew what was happening before she even saw you. Her long bottom mandibles clicked against one another, nothing of words. “Tressure.” You don’t know what happened but you flinched as if Gawtin had raised a threatening paw. Your shoulders drew up, face twisted with fear. Why? You had no answer.

A sound you’ve never made heard her make pierced through the tense air. She had whined. Not even when the two of you had sex, has she ever made that noise. You kept that pathetic position, unable to look your lover in the eye. How could you? You were a failure at the most easiest things that you human. Can’t do anything right with your life.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked and played with the hem of your shirt. It was pointless to hold back a dam worth of tears. The walls crumbling underneath the weight. Tears poured down your face and dropped onto the tile floor. “I’m sorry.” It’s all you could say.

The air shifted with movement. Carefully placed steps stalked their way over to you before stopping right in front of you. There was no other person besides her.

Pads of well worn fingers softly scrapped against the skin of your cheek. You fought against her, not wanting her to see the shame and embarrassment that painted your face. Gawtin always won.

With your eyes still closed -not daring to look her in the eye, you easily felt that heavy, piercing gaze settled on you. The course scaled on her thumb grazed the length of your cheek bone. It felt like it slowly softening you up, coaxing you to open up for the goddess.

And it was working.

“My artist, look at me,” she gently demanded of you. The last of your resistance flowed from your veins, vanished with her words. Kind eyes filled with love and concern peered closely at you. Your heart and breath quickening at first. A dreadful fear filling your body from head to toe. An unreasonable reaction to your goddess in green.

“There you are. What is the matter?” she questioned, usually gruff voice quieted with her demeanor. Your eyes darted away, finding anything and everything to look at. Gawtin’s other massive paw joined on the other side of your face. You sagged into the feeling, relishing in the comfort that settled into your bones. It fought against the terror in your veins. “My ooman, I need you to tell me your problems. I will requifiy them.”

By the grace of god, you loved her so fucking much. Her words soothed over you like a warm shower, washing away every bad feeling inside of you. “I-I,” you take a deep breath in, hold it, then released it. “I can’t do anything right,” you finally relented, letting your greatest fault be known to her. Not that she didn’t know already.

This took the Yautja by surprise. She jerked her head back, trinkets and jewelry attached to her tresses slapping against her back and chest. Her mandibles spread out in displeasure. Then, Gawtin started to push at you, crowding you with her massive body towering over you. Soon, your back met the wall, pressed up against with some of Gawtin’s weight.

“No.” Stern. Firm. There was no arguing with the tone she used. One, a mother would use on their child. “Do. Not. Say. That.”

Heartbreak. Gawtin felt a whirlwind of emotions sweep through her body. Yet, her main focus was settled on you. Always on you. She desperately needed to know why you were thinking that way. What had happened while she was gone and fix it. She couldn’t bare to see you like this, broken and upset.

You kept your mouth shut, closed without a sound. Your eyes set on her only. It was fear that paralyzed you once more but not because of her. Never because of her. You don’t know why you were scared but it held you in a tight grip, unable to move or make a noise. It left you trembling in her hold, pressed against the cool wall.

“Why do you think that?” First, assess the situation. Figure out the roots of the problem and work your way up. It broke her mighty heart to see you like this, shaking worse than a leaf. You bit at your bottom lip, kneading it between dull teeth. “You know you can tell me anything, tressure.”

From the bottom of your heart, you desperately knew that. All the time. She was here for you. Caring and keeping an eye on you. “I… things. I can’t remember where I put things. I set it down and poof, it’s gone forever. Why do you keep me around if I can-“ a course palm settled over your lips, silencing you from saying anymore.

“I bear my heart to you,” she said and ended with your name. That caught your attention. She rarely says it. It was always terms of endearment or others. “I adore having you around. It feels lonely, empty in my heart when you are not nearby. I ache for your presence. Do you understand?” Gawtin removed her hand from your mouth to let you speak.

With a drop of hesitance entering your veins, you dipped your head. “That is my answer. You’re my answer to everything, artful one. You color my life with your love, making me realize that I need you. Forever.” Your bottom lip wobbled again, fresh tears filling your eyes. Her words… They way she spoke. How can she just say that?

“Would you like for me to make an appointment for a healer? They could find solutions to the reason on why you forget so much. And, my ooman, it is okay to forget things. Please don’t get frustrated with yourself. Come to me and we can figure it out. Together.” Gawtin backed off, relenting the pressure that pressed you into the wall. “It is okay to be okay.”

And that’s all you needed to hear.

Tears flowed freely down the length of your cheeks before dropping down to the floor. Gawtin used her thumbs to wipe away a majority of the salty water. “What would you like to do, artful one,” she questioned, voice continuing to low and soft. It felt like it was a brush soothing over the shell of your ear.

“I really want to cuddle, right now,” you answered, eyes darting to the side.

Gawtin dipped her head, thick tresses swaying with the movement. “We can more than happily do that. Let me grab Qui. Then we can cuddle out on the couch,” Gawtin explained and pulled almost fully away from you. Her warmth stolen by the goddess herself.

Your eyes widened. The kid. Qui! Shit, you’ve… forgotten. You are supposed to be watching over him, like a parent. How co- Gawtin nuzzled her temple against yours. Without words, she knew what you needed at the moment. All she needed to do was read your face and bring you from that mindset once more. She grabs at one of your hands and engulfs it with her own.

The tension that clawed through your shoulders was released, falling away like rain. Gawtin began to purr and kissed with her mandibles folded in on the back of your hand. “Qui-oky?” Then she clicked something in Yautja at the child.

Pitter-patter of bare feet slapped against the wooden floors. At the sound, an amused smile graced your chewed lips. Qui appeared in the doorway. Without stopping, he ran all the way to his mother and latched onto her leg. Yautja tumbled from his small mandibles. To you, it sounded all like baby talk. Not a word understood with yourself.

Gawtin bent down, scoop the child off of the ground, and held him in her arms. Qui leaned over to you and plucked something tucked on top of your ear. It was your pencil. He held it to you, in a similar manner compared to earlier. You pressed your lips together and took it back. “Thanks, kiddo.” Your usually soft voice towards him had turned dead. Just another reminder on how you couldn’t function like a normal person.

Out of nowhere, Gawtin grasped the pencil from him and tucked it into a pouch on her clothe belt. Her hand returned to swallow yours and tugged at you to follow her. Without complaint, you shadowed behind the behemoth that she is.

The three of you had settled on the expansive couch. Gawtin was the only one truly sitting on it. Qui had taken his spot between the two of you. You had taken roost on one of her thick, muscular thighs. Your legs straddling her own. You had snuggled underneath her chin, content with the warmth that radiated off of her heavily.

Qui-oky chose to bury himself on the same side as you into Gawtin’s side. She wouldn’t allow you to move either. The two of you stuck against her like this. Not that you were complaining.

A course finger ran up to the base of your skull before threading into your hair. You instantly sagged against her, eyes hooded over. “Good ooman,” she purred softly and scratched at your scalp carefully. Mmmm, that’s the spot. You knew she had to be mentally saying you’re so easy to mess with.

She kept you against her for an unknown amount of time. Nothing else mattered besides your little family. Each one of you had your issues, more than others. None of that mattered to any of you. Just the love that flowed in each of your veins and gulfed everyone.

You may have trouble remembering things. Misplaced items or something just disappearing out of thin air. What you will never forget is the fact that Gawtin and Qui love you with all of their hearts and more.

[little-piece-of-tamlin]

hi! it's me! writing! again! guys im genuinely so happy about the fact that im consistently writing again

anyway have a kaebedo fic as my debut in the genshin fandom lol, the prompt for this was taken from @andwhatyousaid 's summery prompt list for the first prompt - confession during a heatwave

Paint Me Like One Of Your Fontainian Girls (1581 words) by silly_zsofi Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Albedo & Kaeya (Genshin Impact), Albedo/Kaeya (Genshin Impact) Characters: Albedo (Genshin Impact), Kaeya (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Summer Vacation, Heatwave, inflicting my suffering on my blorbos, summer is killing me so its killing them too, albedo is getting there, august summery prompt list, kaeya is smitten Summary: Summer is at full force in Mondstadt. The air is stuffy from the heat, humid and still, and the occasional breeze all but stirs that air up, not bringing a single wisp of freshness. It’s not unusal - they’ve seen hotter summers before – but it’s enough to throw a wrench into the usual happenings of the region. And it is exactly because of that wrench that the Cavalry Captain and the head of the Investigative Team are now on the shore of Cider Lake, on… vacation. or, Kaeya doesn’t take the heat very well and maybe spills more of his feelings than he intended to

[strawbrerian-writes]

About Damn Time

This fucking thing was meant to be my contribution for @elucienweekofficial day 7 Prompt: AU. Did I get it complete in time? No. Life got in my way. Oh Well.

So here's a smutty, more plot than I meant it to have, really long Elucien one-shot. Which I am completely dedicating to @separatist-apologist for being a wonderful human and inspiring me and so many others out there.

Title: About Damn Time

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

Elain Archeron was convinced that a good cup of coffee could stop wars.

She was equally convinced it was a lack of a good cup of coffee that caused them.

It was 7:30 in the morning, and she was struggling. Summer was in full swing. As a landscaper, she preferred to do her work as early as possible. It was both better for the plants and for her employees’ disposition, as working conditions from eleven on in the summer were the stuff of nightmares.

The sun would be relentless. The heat would climb well into the nineties and the “feels like” would push it into triple digits. Most people would retreat to the air conditioning or find some body of water and stay there.

If the heat weren’t bad enough, average eighty percent humidity meant that even standing outside for five minutes kept her entire body soaking wet without her consent and her hair threatening to mutiny even in its braid.

The heat wouldn’t stop the bugs, though. They’d swarm, getting stuck in her sweat and biting any skin left exposed.

Elain loved it. She loved the messiness of it. The way the dirt was always cool beneath her fingers, the way the right plants flourished under the burning sun. She was made for sunny days and warm weather and mess.

She wasn’t crazy, though. Even she had her limits. Like the fact that it was 90% humidity and 90 degrees at seven-thirty with the weatherman calling for over 100 degrees by noon when she’d meant to be up and at the jobsite by six. She’d had three of her five employees call in, taking advantage of her high temps’ policy.

She usually wouldn’t mind. Had even decided last night to call it, herself. She texted all clients on the books for the day to let them know her crew would get to them the following business day and turned off her alarm.    

Until her favorite client called that morning.

The director of the public library was in a panic, begging her to get the landscaping done before the summer reading program finale. Tomorrow. It was their biggest program of the year and auditors from the state were coming in.

“We have the potential to bring massive grants if everything goes off without a hitch. We could finally start the renovations we need. I know the weather is bad, Elain, but please I’ll pay double. Out of my own damn pocket,” Helion begged, his usually rich, smoky voice taking on a whine.  

“It’s not just that, Helion,” she sighed into the receiver. “I’m down three guys today due to heat. You know my temps’ policy; I can’t make them come in. It takes four of us total to do a job that big in a day.”

“How many do you have?” he responded quickly. Elain could hear shuffling in the background and a woman’s voice murmuring. Likely his wife, who has hired Elain on several occasions to spruce up her gardens.

“Including myself, three.”

“Great! I have a meeting this morning and then I’ll be out to help. Sylva is grabbing Aodhan. He’ll meet you in, what? Thirty?” Helion was determined. She’d give him that.   

“Aodhan Vanserra?” Elain questioned. She started to gather her things for the day. She knew the moment she answered the phone she was going to go. “Is he back in town?”

“He likes to get his hands dirty, and he’s strong. Put him to work wherever you need him,” Helion said loudly. She heard more scuffling, doors being shut and then her friend was back in a whisper, “Beron kicked him out, cut him off, and nearly killed the poor guy. Do not say anything about his ear.”

“What’s wrong with his ear?” Elain whispered as well. Even though she was in a room by herself and presumably no one could hear her.

“Later,” Helion hissed, then louder, “and you’re not paying him, dear. I am. As a thank you for this. Truly.”

“I didn’t say I’d do it,” Elain lied sweetly. Of course, she had already shoved the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could pull on her brown work boots.  

“E-laain,” Helion whined, drawing her name out ridiculously, “but you love me.”

She sighed theatrically. “You know I do. You don’t have to pay extra. Just take care of your step-son and provide us with lunch and hydration.”

“Deal!” Helion’s shout was nothing short of triumphant. “Love you, too. See you soon.”  

He hung up the phone, leaving Elain standing in her living room shaking her head.

Elain couldn’t bring herself to say no to Helion.

She’d spent most of her days in that library. Helion had become one of her closest friends over the years. Before he was director of the library, he was a high school history teacher and headed up the gardening club. He was probably Elain’s most favorite person outside of her family.   

So, she threw her hair in a rough ponytail and rushed out the door. Between the two employees who agreed to work the heat and Aodhan, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day. She’d be starting later than she wanted but with any luck, she’d been done before they all melted into plant food.

She’d do just about anything for her clients, especially Helion.

Well, except give up her morning large, iced coffee. He could wait another ten minutes. She was feeling chocolate peanut butter and whipped cream this morning.

“Elain?”

Every muscle in her body tensed. She squeezed her eyes tight, counting to three before she turned around.

Standing in line just behind Elain was her ex-boyfriend, Graysen Lorde and a very petite, beautiful woman she’d never seen before. She had beautiful ebony skin and sleek, black hair down to her shoulders. They were both dressed for work, Graysen in the gray slacks and a white button-down that indicated it was Thursday, the woman in a sleek, black pantsuit and heels.

“Graysen?”

What was he doing here? Last she’d heard he moved, took a high paying position at a new bank out west. Not to mention, he hated coffee.

“I thought that was you,” he said with a nervous smile. “You look…good.”

Elain glanced down at her clothes. She was rushed this morning, grabbing the first set of anything she could find. Which meant wearing a pair of canvas shorts with tears from work, a white tank top with a dirt stain along the bottom hem where she’d undoubtedly rubbed her hands without thinking, and an oversized green flannel one of her little sister’s friends had left behind years ago, in an attempt to hide the stains and tears of her work clothes.

“Thanks, just heading into the office,” she joked lamely. Graysen was never a fan of her “blue-collar” job. When they met, she was a bank teller working through community college. She spent her days in business casual clothing, hair always curled, and her makeup flawless.

No dirt under her nails. No sweat. No mess. No fun.

Graysen looked as he always had. Handsome face, sandy brown hair cut close, clothes tailored perfectly to his body. He looked like he’d put on some muscle, and maybe gotten a little tan somewhere.

“You’re Elain Archeron?” the beautiful woman said smiling, her voice deeper than she expected. It was almost musical. Graysen coughed a little and seemed to give her some kind of a look from the side.

Elain tried to brush it off. They had split over a year now, halfway agreeable, but she knew her ex to twist everything to his advantage. There was no telling what he’d told this woman.  

She collected herself, standing a little straighter. She brushed her hands off on her shirt. “Uh, yeah…yes. I’m Elain Archeron.”

“Oh wow! You did the floral arrangements for my sister’s wedding this past February! The Rosenbluth/Cress wedding,” the woman smiled brilliantly, her pearly white teeth shining. She seemed…genuine. She even reached out her hand to shake Elain’s.

Elain remembered the wedding. It was a Valentine’s wedding. The bride wanted every pink, red, and white flower in existence. If that wasn’t a tall enough order, she’d waited until a week before the wedding to order anything at all. A week before Valentine’s Day. Every shop in a fifty-mile radius was booked up, and no florist would take her on.

Then someone had given Elain’s name to the bride’s mother.

“I remember her,” Elain mused. She took the woman’s offered hand in a firm shake. It was surprisingly calloused – just like her own. “I’d done some floral arranging before, but nothing to that scale. It was a nice challenge.”

They moved up a bit in line. She snuck a glance at Graysen. His face was quickly losing color.  

“Oh, don’t be modest! She asked for the moon, and you gave it to her. You pulled an absolute miracle out of thin air,” the still nameless woman gushed. Elain was starting to blush. There was something so kind and sincere about this woman that it put her at ease. She just had one of those sunny personalities that drew people in. Elain couldn’t help but like this woman. “I honestly wish I would’ve known about you sooner, and I wouldn’t have wasted my money on the hack who did our wedding.”

Wait, what? Elain’s brain stuttered. She prayed the shock didn’t show on her face. Our wedding?

“Cora…” Graysen started, a hint of warning in his voice. He had a thin line of sweat beading up on his hairline now, his face completely pallid. The woman paid him no attention.

“Don’t you remember, babe? The flowers were half wilted before the ceremony was even over. It was a disaster,” Cora – his wife, apparently – went on seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the atmosphere. “They were sunflowers, even. Hardy things, right? Perfect for a fall wedding, but no…the guy had cut them too early, didn’t care for them properly and they were dead before nightfall.”

In that moment, three things became absolutely certain to Elain.

First, Graysen had lied to her when they broke up. He’d said they’d drifted apart, and it just wasn’t working out anymore.  

Second, he had to get married within weeks of breaking up with her. Which meant either the man who took six months deciding on which tie to wear to a Christmas banquet suddenly decided to add some serious spontaneity to his life, or ...

Elain didn’t want to think about or, because the last thing that was very clear in that moment was that this woman – Cora, Graysen’s wife ­– had no idea who the hell Elain really was.

Cora kept talking, but Elain couldn’t hear. Her heartbeat was thumping so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything besides her own panic and rising anger. She was vaguely aware of the line jostling her forward. Cora was still smiling, going on about the wedding and flowers and what a wonderful job Elain did for her friend.

Bile was rising in her throat. She had to get out of here. She’d send Helion out for coffee. He owed her, but she had to leave.

“I couldn’t remember if you wanted Lemon or Raspberry, so I got one of each,” a confident, low voice broke through her panic. Elain turned to the source and looked up…and up.

A very tall, very handsome man in a black t-shirt and jeans was standing beside her holding out parchment wrapped scones in one of his massive hands. The other hand held two coffees by the bottom, impressively long fingers keeping them steady. She looked farther up at the curve of his nose, those full, full lips and the familiar cut of jawline. At the rich, auburn hair pulled into a tight bun. At the long scar running along the side of his face.

Oh thank God, she knew this man.

“Babe?” he said it as a question, head quirked slightly. Elain could have kissed him. Might have, had she not been frozen in place.

“Lemon,” she blurted more forcefully than she’d meant. She grabbed the correct scone from his hand and one of the coffees, as if he’d gotten it for her. She smiled gratefully at him. “I’m feeling lemon today. Thank you, Lucien.”

His name rolled off her tongue with ease.

Lucien grinned. “A little sour today, sweet-tart?”

“Don’t you mean sweetheart?” she teased back, trying to appear effortless. Graysen and his wife were still standing there, after all, watching with interest. Though by now color had started to return to Graysen’s face.

“I said what I said,” Lucien smirked proudly. He turned to the other two. “Good to see you again, Gray.” He nodded. “Cora.”

“That explains it!” Cora exclaimed, clapping her hands cheerfully. She turned to her husband. “That’s how you knew to recommend Elain! She’s Lucien’s girl.”

Graysen’s eyes hardened imperceptibly. His ears were turning red, a sign of rising temper. Elain held her smile as Lucien stepped a bit closer to her, claiming her space. At least now she knew how Mrs. Rosenbluth got her number.

“Yes ma’am,” Lucien answered for Graysen, still grinning like a fool. “Graysen mentioned how difficult a time your friend was having around the office one day, and I kindly offered my girl’s assistance.”

Graysen’s left eye twitched. “Yep.” He said, lips popping hard on the ‘p’. “That’s exactly right.”

Elain had to fight down a nervous laugh. This all felt so absurd.  

“It was good seeing you again Cora, Graysen, but I’ve got to get my lady to Pops. You know how he panics,” Lucien laughed. He gestured to the door, arms encircling Elain and ushering her toward it. “I’ll see you around, Lorde.”

Graysen nodded curtly, Cora giving an enthusiastic wave.

“It was nice to meet you, Elain!” Cora called sweetly. Elain smiled back, raising her coffee in the air as if in a wave.

“You too, Cora!”  

When they were outside the doors, Elain turned to Lucien. “Glass doors, Elain. He’s still watching,” Lucien said, smiling widely. Elain chanced a glance through the windows and sure enough, Graysen’s eyes hadn’t left her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, staying close to Lucien so as not to break the illusion. She looked down into her cup. “What is it?”

“It’s a Reese’s Iced Coffee, extra whip,” Lucien answered as he swirled the cup in his hand. “Which sounds absolutely atrocious with a lemon scone, by the way.”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “How?”

“Pops,” Lucien shrugged in response. He took a sip from his cup. “The coffee is amazing, though. I’ll give you that. Come on.” He motioned down the sidewalk, towards the parking lot a few buildings down.  

“Helion told you my drink order?” Elain questioned as they started walking down the street.

“Apparently you have him and mom both hooked on it,” Lucien explained. His russet eyes twinkled. “Though the scones were a guess.”   

“Oh,” Elain said softly. She eyed her scone for a minute, replaying the interaction in her head. She didn’t even know Graysen was back in town. Lucien seemed to, though. “Do you work with him?”

“Who? Lorde?” Lucien asked.

She gave a small nod.

“Not exactly,” Lucien shook his head. He wiped his mouth with the back of the hand holding the other pastry. “Different departments. Different floors. I really only see him at functions or in the gym.”

“When did he get back?” she asked. Elain didn’t want to seem like she was digging for information about an ex, but she was so thrown off by everything that she couldn’t help herself. She wanted answers. Lucien seemed to have some, at least.

“About two months ago, but I know he interviewed with Jurian back in February,” Lucien answered honestly.

“He works for Jurian?”

“Fuck no,” Lucien spat, his head whipping back and forth. He was smiling. “Jurian hates that guy.”

Elain giggled. They walked for a beat in silence before she was brave enough to ask.  

“So … did you know about…?”

“Only recently. He brought her a luncheon with my boss. He’s trying to switch out of accounting,” Lucien answered when she trailed off. “Until then, I didn’t know a damn thing.”

Elain and Graysen had dated on and off all through college. Lucien had been around for the entire disastrous thing.

She wasn’t as close to Lucien as Feyre was, but Lucien had always been an important part of Elain’s life. He’d always bought her flower seeds and pastries when she was down. He would drive her to the library on rainy days. He was at every party in college, living it up and chasing unwanted idiots off her and her sisters.

He walked with her in Feyre’s wedding, being both friends to the bride and groom. She was at the hospital with him the night of his wreck senior year.  His father was her first client when she opened her business. His mother her second.

But life took them in separate directions, Elain and Graysen got back together for the last time and Lucien just kind of…stopped coming around.

“He’s a bastard,” Lucien uttered as they arrived at their vehicles. “And he can’t hit his squats.”

Elain laughed. “Can’t all have thighs like yours Dump Truck,” she said with a smile, using his old high school nickname.

Lucien threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You know, I always did wonder where that shirt went,” he said, pointing to the flannel she currently had on. “Though how the hell you’re wearing that thing in this heat, I don’t understand.”

Elain looked down at it and grinned. “You don’t remember? You gave it to me after Jurian threw me in the pool at that kegger freshman year of college,” she said, ignoring his last comment. He didn’t need to know how it comforted her to wear it.

“You were in a white dress. Seemed like the right thing to do,” he shrugged. He had a lazy smirk still plastered to his face as he leaned against the side of his sedan.

“So, you do remember,” Elain narrowed her eyes at him.

“Guess so.”

“Then why’d you say you wondered where it went?” she asked exasperated. She sat her drinks down on the hood of her red truck.

“Something to say, I guess.” 

Elain shook her head. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was flirting with her. She did though. Lucien had only ever seen her as he saw Feyre, a silly little sister he had to take care of.

“Thank you, Lucien,” Elain said genuinely as she unlocked her truck door.

“What for?” he teased. He didn’t move, just stayed against his sedan, watching her with those rich reddish-brown eyes.

“The coffee, the scone, helping me out of an awkward situation.” She paused and gestured to her chest. “The shirt.”

He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. You looked like you were gonna throw up or stab him.”

Elain giggled. “Which time?”

“Both,” Lucien chuckled. “Same look, different guy.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Elain said softly. “Both times.”

“No problem, sweet-tart.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him. Lucien was kind. Fun. “My hero,” she said rolling her eyes dramatically. He chuckled.

She needed to leave. She needed to get in her truck, back out, and get to the library before the heat got any worse. She couldn’t make herself do it. Not with him smiling like that.   

“I’m not getting my shirt back am I?”

“It’s been six years, Dump Truck. Give up.” He laughed again. Big and bold. She liked it. “I’ll see you around?” she asked, turning to get into her truck. She had to force herself to move.

“Yep, in about ten minutes,” Lucien said with a smile. Her hand stalled on the silver door handle.  

Elain cocked her head in confusion. Lucien’s smile only widened.

“Pops said you needed help,” he said, voice low and dangerously close to making her swoon. “Looks like I get to be your hero a little longer.”

**

“Two weeks! Two fucking weeks after you broke up?”

An older woman on the treadmill three machines down shot the three of them a dirty look. Elain mouthed “I’m sorry” before turning back to her sister. “Nesta, keep it down.”

“Like hell,” Nesta spat, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I own the place. I’ll talk however I want to.”  

After leaving the coffee shop, Elain went straight to the library, followed closely by Lucien’s silver sedan. Her two guys were already there, shovels and rakes in hand. So was another man, who she could vaguely remember as being Lucien’s older half-brother Aodhan. He was shorter than Lucien, with brown hair not red. He was also missing the top part of his left ear. Per Helion’s instructions, she said nothing about it.

She’d shaken the cobwebs from her head and began to bark orders. She put her guys doing technical work, like trimming the hedges, weed eating and edging the property. When Helion came out ten minutes later, she made him get out the old zero turn he let her borrow and mow the entire lawn. The two brothers she put on hauling mulch, bags of topsoil, and garden stones.

All in all, they managed to get done in record time. Every one of them were drenched in sweat and red as a beet. Elain had never been so thankful for the heat. Her face had been scarlet for hours, ever since Lucien whipped his black top off ten minutes into the job, exposing a massive expanse of golden-brown muscle. When he commented on her flush, she brushed it off as the sun disagreeing with her pale skin.

She went home after, to shower and eat and maybe nap. Anything to get her mind off the sweat dripping down Lucien’s spine as he hauled a bag of topsoil across the lawn and the surprisingly dirty thought she had of tracing its path with her tongue.

Predictably, her mind bounced from one extreme to the other. She drifted back to that morning, and her interaction with Graysen. She couldn’t believe she did know that he’d gotten married.

So, she did what any woman in shoes would do. She wound up in a social media deep dive that was borderline stalking.

Graysen’s page turned out to be an information desert. Cora’s was also surprisingly sparse. There were lots of photos of cheerleading competitions, a few of her family – all beautiful – and a ton dedicated to a dachshund named Buttercup. Nothing actually personal.

Finally, after a good hour of deep diving into her ex’s life – something she’d swore she wouldn’t do after the breakup – Elain hit paydirt.

An obscure friend of a friend of a friend, who Elain didn’t even bother to remember their name, had posted a photo of a Graysen and Cora’s wedding, two weeks to the day that he broke up with Elain.

She read every single comment under the post. Then she put on her gym clothes – an adorable neon pink matching shorts and bra set, with a baggy band shirt – and left to find Nesta.

“You sure you can trust whoever posted it?” Gwyneth Berdara – her sister’s best friend — huffed out on the stair climber beside her. Elain liked the redhead. She was quiet and friendly, but a firecracker when pushed. She was a good foil for her sister’s outright bitchiness.

“Yeah, I knew he moved out west,” Elain managed out as she worked through her exhaustion. “Apparently, she’s from out there. I found the engagement announcement online.”

“Why bother with an announcement at all with how fast they got married?” Nesta spat. Her anger was rising, Elain could tell by the silver sheen crossing her sisters blue-grey eyes.

“They got engaged on Christmas,” Elain stated. She waited for it to sink in.   

“You broke up in September,” Nesta said finally, voice cold as ice. She slowed to a stop on her machine.

“We did,” Elain nodded, trudging on the stairs.

A beat.

“That motherfucker!” Gwyn shouted.  

The old woman on the treadmill threw her hands up and stalked off mumbling. She’d likely left to find the owner, Cassian, who would likely tell her he had as much control over his wife and her friends as he did the weather.

“Language, Berdara!” the deep voice of their trainer barked as Azriel turned the corner into the room. He stopped by Gwyn’s machine and leaned his tall frame around it, facing Elain. “Who are we calling a motherfucker?”

“Why do you get to say it?” Gwyn complained, shoving at him while still keeping pace. Azriel stepped back and ran an olive-colored hand into his black curls.

“I’m not yelling,” he stated drily. He pointed to the logo on his shirt. “And I work here.”

“Shouldn’t that make you less able to curse?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes narrowing as she glared at their trainer.

“Elain’s ex,” Nesta interrupted from the other side, still seething.

“Why do we care?” Azriel asked, ignoring Gwyn’s question. One dark eyebrow disappeared behind the black curls twisting over his face like shadows as he faced Elain. “You guys broke up over a year ago.”

“Because he lied to me,” Elain grunted, stomping at the machine, as if it were the cause of all of her problems. She was struggling now. It was one thing to think they’d broken up amicably. It was another to admit that he’d lied to her. He’d cheated on her. “He got engaged at Christmas.”

Azriel shrugged, “he moves fast I guess.” Gwyn groaned and slapped the emergency stop on her machine.

“The fucking useless douchecanoe shit stain on the underwear of existence was cheating on Elain the whole time they were together, you thick, beautiful fucking dumbass,” Gwyn snapped, shoving her index finger into Azriel’s chest to emphasize each word.

Elain slowed to a stop; eyes opened impossibly wide. She’d never known anyone outside Cassian or Rhysand to speak to Azriel that way.

Azriel was slack jawed. Gwyn was breathing heavy, finger still shoved into his chest.

“I…” he started. His voice was breathy, low, as if the words were stuck. Hazel eyes bored holes into Gwyn’s baby blues, “am so sorry Elain.”

She did not believe for a single second that he gave any thought to her. His tongue came out to swipe at his lower lip. Gwyn’s hand slowly fisted into the top he was wearing, right over the logo he’d pointed out earlier.

Elain whipped her head around to her sister and mouthed the word “when?” She discretely pointed between the the red head and the bodybuilder.

Nesta shrugged, a wide grin on her face, and shook her head. “Now?” she mouthed back.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something.”

Elain knew that voice. Had heard it all day long.

She looked away from her sister to where Lucien had walked up beside her machine.

Holy fuck.

She’d thought he looked nice earlier, shirtless and in jeans. But now…Lucien in athletic shorts was…almost better than coffee.

“No, we’re good,” Azriel said, not breaking eye contact with Gwyn. “I’ll meet you by the squat rack, Vanserra.” He grabbed Gwyn’s hand on his chest and leaned in. He whispered something in her ear and the red head actually wobbled.

“You good, Gwyn?” Nesta asked slyly.

The woman in question nodded. “Uh yeah, I just…forgot to eat lunch. Gonna go…fix that now,” she said before hopping off the stair climber. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, catch you later Gwyn,” Nesta waved her off.

Elain couldn’t help but notice that while she was talking to Nesta, she kept glancing back to Azriel. She also noticed the slight tilt of his head as he walked off.

“Okay then,” Lucien stared for a moment before shrugging.

“How are you not exhausted?” Elain asked him before she could stop herself.

Lucien grinned, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve always had really high endurance,” he remarked, then winked at her. “Can’t help but notice you’re here, too.”

“I bounce back quick,” she quipped, unable to hide the little grin tugging at her lips.

“Hurry up, Vanserra!” Azriel called out. Lucien shrugged, nodded acknowledgement at Nesta and sauntered off to the weight racks with the visibly agitated trainer.

“When the fuck did that happen?” Nesta hissed, pointing at Lucien’s back.

Elain followed her finger to where Lucien had started to cool off at Azriel’s instruction.

Elain laughed brightly. “That has never happened. He just helped me out today at the library job. Well, and with Graysen.” She added as an afterthought.

“Helped you with Graysen?” Nesta quirked a brow.

The sisters resumed their climb. Elain wasn’t sure how long they’d be going today, she always just followed Nesta’s lead. Some days it was quick. Some days she couldn’t move when she got home.

“Yeah, he saved me from the whole encounter. Pretended to be with me, bought me a coffee and scone. Gray was starting to look like a tomato before we got out of there,” Elain smiled. Nesta gave her a side-eye.

“Pretended huh?”

“Don’t you start,” Elain warned. She hated her sisters’ meddling. From their attempts to set her up with moody Azriel, to dragging her clubbing all over the tri-county area, to one horrible incident involving a bag of flaming dog shit on an ex’s porch, she was done with letting them get involved in her love life.

“Whatever you say, Elain,” Nesta murmured unconvinced.

They continued their steps in easy quiet, the silence broken only by huffing and groaning. It was shaping up to be an ice bath kind of day, the rate they were going.  

Elain tried to get her mind off the burn in her calves or the way her sweaty hair kept clinging to her face. She kept glancing around the gym, watching the television in the corner playing basketball or trying to look out the windows at the sunset. Her eyes were traitors though. They kept going back to the weights. Where Lucien and Azriel were warming up, directly in front of them.  

Lucien had already taken his shirt off, the blue fabric flung across one of the chairs lining the back wall. His wine-red hair was braided away from his face and knotted at the top. He was wearing gray shorts.

Short, gray, athletic shorts that left nothing to the imagination. His thighs were on full display and Elain, for the first time since she’d heard her sister start calling him it, fullyunderstood why he was called Dump Truck. They were sculpted, thick and led up to an ass she wanted desperately to sink her teeth into.

She didn’t want to look at the front. She was scared to look at the front. The man had to have a shortcoming somewhere.

Nesta whistled. “You think Feyre ever tapped that?” she stage whispered, breaking the very comfortable silence in the most awkward way possible.  

“What? No!” Elain exclaimed. Lucien glanced up. He tossed her a grin and a little wave before readying himself for a pullup. She hoped like hell he couldn’t hear them.

“Oh, come on, they used to spend all that time together. They were practically inseparable,” Nesta drawled out. Had Elain been paying attention, maybe she would’ve seen the sly smirk gracing her otherwise elegant sister’s face.

“She was with Tamlin,” Elain pointed out. Her face twisted into a scowl. “Lucien would’ve never havedone that to Tamlin.”

“She wasn’t always with Tamlin,” Nesta sing-songed. “Remember when he keyed up her car? He told Jurian it was because he caught them in bed together.”

Elain tripped again. She hadn’t heard that. She’d never heard that. “Lucien admitted that?”

“No. Tamlin told Jurian he walked in on the two of them,” Nesta explained slowly. She waved a hand dismissively. “But that is just rumor.”

It better be, she caught herself thinking. She wasn’t sure where the possessiveness came from. Wasn’t sure she didn’t like it though.

“It better be, huh?” Nesta teased, answering her thoughts. Or, what she apparently had let slip through.

Lucien was breaking her concentration. It was his fault. Yes. His fault.

“What is he even doing here?” Elain tried to divert her sister’s attention. She did not want to talk about whatever feelings she may or may not have for Lucien Vanserra.

“Cass swiped him,” Nesta sighed, allowing herself to take the bait. Elain quirked a brow. Her sister pointed to Lucien. “Cassian wanted him on as an investor in the beginning. I put my foot down. Didn’t want Vanserra money if it meant being tied to Eris in any way.”

“Oh.” Elain understood that. Eris and Nesta had a … thing, once before. It didn’t end well. It was just another one of the many ways Lucien had been around forever.

“Yeah, anyway we ran into Lucien the other night at the movies. He was busy telling Feyre about how he couldn’t work out at the office gym anymore and Cass swooped in. Got a new client and Lucien agreed to a small investment in the business.”  

“He…couldn’t work out at the office gym?” Elain asked quietly.

Nesta shook her head. “Didn’t ask why. I just overhead him say he’d kill something or someone if he went back.”

He’d mentioned something earlier, but it would entirely too self-absorbed of her to think he couldn’t work out there anymore because of Graysen.

“Are you ok? Honestly?” Nesta asked, her soft voice barely heard over the whirring of the machine.

Elain sighed. “No. I’m angry,” she admitted, for the first time out loud. “He lied to me. For a very long time, apparently. And he did such a good job of it I never questioned it.”

She could feel the tightness in her chest building. She was angry. At Graysen for lying, at herself for falling for it. Strangely, there was no jealousy. She’d let that part go. Let him go. She wasn’t sure how easy it would be to let the anger go, though.

“He’s just…such a douchecanoe,” she hissed, using Gwyn’s earlier term.  

“Do you want me to stab him?” Nesta asked seriously beside her. “We’ll call Rhys to hide the body.”

Elain blinked at her big sister. Nesta slowly cracked a smile, and they both erupted into a fit of giggles. Tears of some twisted mirth sprung to Elain’s eyes.

“Thank you, Nes,” she smiled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You know Rhys isn’t mafia.”

“We don’t know that,” Nesta said conspiratorially. She winked one blue-grey eye. “And besides, even if he wasn’t –“

“Which he’s not.”

“—he’d do it anyway. He loves us,” Nesta paused for a second, smirking, “well he loves you. And he loves Feyre and Cassian both enough not to fuck with me.”

“You know one day we’re going to walk in on the two of you in matching pjs, wearing face masks and watching ‘Mean Girls’ together,” Elain sighed out rolling her eyes. She’d never understand her sister’s relationship with their brother-in-law.

“Elain, honey, you know that wouldn’t happen. Rhys and I are far more ‘The Devil Wear’s Prada’ type,” Nesta said in a faux-haughty tone that had Elain laughing again.

This was why she sought out her sister. Nesta was her rock. They lapsed back into a companionable silence, working out beside each other while watching Azriel correct Lucien’s pull up form. She knew Nesta never missed an opportunity to ogle Azriel when he was training – and unfortunately was aware of how good a night Cassian would have. Typically, Elain would be right there watching the tall, dark trainer in utter appreciation as well.

Today though, she took the opportunity to watch the muscles in Lucien’s back work.

She’d spent a large portion of her workday dreaming about those muscles. The way sweat traveled over the striations. The way she imagined they might feel under her fingers. Her core started to ache as she watched his face, reddened from the exertion, twist into a determined grimace. She could easily imagine that same face over her, working hard to keep his own orgasm at bay as he pounded into her –

“Well, you know the best way to get over someone is get under someone else,” her sister interjected, breaking Elain of her reverie.

Oh God, please don’t let her have said something else out loud.

“What?” Elain asked in a daze. Nesta said nothing, just arched one flawless brow and inclined her head towards where Elain had been focused. “I’m already over Graysen! I’m mad at the lies, Nesta!”

“So? Sex is a fantastic way to work off frustration,” Nesta crooned, reaching up to shut off her machine. “Come on, we’re done for the night. Let’s go cool down.”  

**

Elain walked down the hall of her sister’s gym rubbing her neck. Nesta had turned their cool down into a thirty-minute yoga session. She had adopted her husband’s obsession with stretching, and Elain often had to suffer for it.  

Nesta had deposited Elain in her own personal office, pointing out a small wardrobe with a handful of spare clothes. She had said that Cassian had a late meeting with an athletic director from the college looking for a better outfit for conditioning and weight training. As soon as Nesta made her appearance and went over the financials, she’d be free to take her sister out for drinks.

“And hopefully find you a rebound,” Nesta had added with a wink.   

Elain had passably cleaned up. Nesta’s clothes always fit a little loose in the chest, but this dress was a wrap, thankfully.  

“The place is really lovely,” a low, melodic voice drifted around the corner up ahead of her.

Elain blinked for a moment. She vaguely recognized that voice, but she couldn’t quite remember where from.

It had been a long day.

“You said the locker rooms are this way, right?”

“Yes ma’am, let me show you Mrs. Lorde,” Cassian’s booming voice carried, maybe a little louder than necessary. As if he wanted to be heard.

Realization dawned on Elain just as the shadows of two people, one tall and bulky the other petite and lithe, became visible.

Nesta’s office was in the same hall, right past the locker rooms. Nesta had been in a meeting with Cassian and some athletic director.

Elain had been in Nesta’s office.

Oh shit, Cassian was trying to warn her.

Oh fuck…Mrs. Lorde.

Elain had glossed over it in the woman’s bio, the little tidbit of information irrelevant as she was too busy hunting for evidence of Graysen’s infidelity. But it was coming back to her now

All the photographs of smiling cheerleaders – smiling college cheerleaders.

Cora Lorde was the athletic director of the cheer department at the local college.

Cora was Graysen’s wife who seemingly had no idea her husband had been leading a double life.

Cora was walking down the hallway that very second to look at the locker rooms.  

She saw a foot round in the corner and ducked into the nearest door.

Straight into said locker room.

Someone else was in there, too. She was vaguely aware of hearing the shower running as panic overtook her hearing.

She squeaked for just a moment and survey the room for the best hiding spot. As she wasn’t flexible enough to fold herself into the lockers, the shower stalls were really the only place available. Surely the woman wouldn’t want to check the conditions of the stalls.

She ran to the closest shower stall door, shoved it open just enough to slide into and quickly closed it, throwing the lock into place. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She was in the clear.  

She kept her eyes on the door and threw her hands out behind her. She intended to back into the corner of the stall, hug the wall and wait for trouble to pass.

Only, her hands didn’t hit the cold tile she was expecting. Confused, Elain spread her fingers along the surface. It was hard and wet and warm…and hairy.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. This was not her fucking day.  

“If you insist,” the fleshy, hairy wall behind her murmured in a familiar, smoky voice.

Great. She’d ran into the wrong locker room.

Elain twisted around, coming face to chest with Lucien, again. She meant to tell him to keep his hands to himself, or to scream, or do something. Instead, she stared.

And stared.

Lucien was naked. Completely naked, all that glorious golden skin on display and so close if she stuck out her tongue she could trail it along his chest like she’d been dreaming about all day. He was also wet, water droplets running the length of that powerful body. His broad shoulders blocked the spray from hitting her directly. His hair was loose and drenched.

Elain was in danger.  

“As fascinating as this is, I don’t think for one second you’re in here to actually fuck me, Elain,” Lucien said. This close she could see his chest vibrate with his words.

It caused a small stream of water to dislodge from the dip of his collarbone. Elain’s brain, which was already working at half capacity, had finally short circuited the second she realized she was standing in the stall with a naked Lucien fucking Vanserra.

She didn’t hear what he said. Couldn’t hear anything. All of her senses, all of her focus was on that single stream of water flowing down, over his chest into the dips and ridges of his abs, down further until it got lost in the line of red hair trailing down to the edge of what could only be described as the most beautiful dick she’d ever seen.

Lucien’s dick.

Lucien’s very erect dick.

Lucien Vanserra’s very erect, very large dick that was an inch from touching her hand.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. Elain’s legs chose that moment to finally give out, too.

Strong hands shot out to grab her arms, steadying her. He immediately angled his hips backwards to put space between them. Not that it did much good in such a small stall.

“Never had that reaction before,” Lucien chuckled nervously. He cocked his head. “Are you good?”

No, she wasn’t good. Right now she couldn’t decide if she was doing great or she was delusional. How is it that someone that handsome, that kind, that…fucking wonderful also had a dick like that. The universe was not fair.

She couldn’t look away from it. Even though Lucien was trying to angle it away. She felt like a creep, a drooling pathetic creep but … hot damn.

“You’re going to give me a complex, Elain,” Lucien joked shyly. Elain nodded.

“A god-complex,” she whispered reverently. How long had it been since she’d been with anyone? It was Graysen she remembered, at least two months before the breakup.

“Did you just call my cock a god, Elain?” Lucien said astonished. His large hands shook her shoulders gently, breaking her line of sight with his member. Her brown eyes immediately snapped to his. He looked equal parts amused and concerned.

Elain parted her lips, she meant to reply. Honestly, she did. But she heard those familiar voices carrying into the locker room. She jerked around, out of Lucien’s hands and peered down. The shower door would hide their bodies…but not their feet. There was a gap about a foot wide, and this was the first stall in the locker room. If anyone looked, they’d see two sets of feet.

“What is going—”

Elain cut Lucien off by jumping him. Literally.

She scrambled up his tall body, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and locking her feet together behind his waist. Lucien’s hands darted to thighs to keep her steady. He opened his mouth again and Elain began to shake her head viciously.

“COVER YOUR JUNK!” Cassian bellowed. “LADY COMING IN.”  

Both of them whipped their heads to the door. Lucien angled his body, trying to keep the water from hitting Elain too badly.  

“You sure you want to see in here? We try to keep it looking decent, but the guys can be animals. As you can see both rooms are roughly the same set up,” Cassian’s voice, back to a normal level, still carried as he spoke.  

“You said this room had an extra ice bath?” Cora’s voice floated in. Their footsteps were louder, closer. They were standing just a few feet away.   

Lucien’s eyes went wide in understanding. He adjusted his grip on her, keeping her flush against him. She dug her fingers into his shoulders.  

“Yes ma’am, right this way,” Cassian continued, footsteps carrying him right past the shower stall.

Elain trembled, burying her head in Lucien’s neck. A large, strong hand came up to rub soothingly on her back.

“I don’t have too much longer,” Cora said. Cassian’s footsteps halted. “But I wanted to see, you said this room had a sauna but the women’s doesn’t?”

“Not exactly. It’s a co-ed sauna,” Cassian explained. “Both locker rooms exit into a short hall that leads either to the sauna or the pool.”

“Oh! I understand now! How fantastic!” Cora exclaimed. Elain heard her clap her hands again. “I hate to rush you, Mr. Marcellus but I do need to get out of here.”

“Of course! This way, please.”

Elain held her breath as their footsteps retreated, their voices getting quieter.    

“You good?” Lucien whispered in her ear. She shook her head, finally releasing her breath but not raising from his neck.  “Want to get down?” A pause. Then she shook her head again. He smelled good. She wanted to stay there.

If she got down, she’d have to face the fact he was naked. That she very much liked that he was naked. That for some reason the universe decided she would be the pincushion they’d poke today, and all she wanted was to be held.  

Then preferably held down and fucked by that big, beautiful cock nestled under her ass right now.

So, no. She didn’t want to get down.

“To be honest,” Lucien began to murmur, one hand still running the length of her spine while the other was wrapped around her lower back for support, “I thought I’d have to at least take you on a date before I got you to shower with me.”

Elain looked up cautiously from his neck. Chocolate brown eyes met deep russet. He was smiling. “Y…you thought about taking me on a date?” she asked. Her brain was still mush, still struggling to catch up.

“Elain,” he said her name slowly, reverently. She liked the way his lips moved with the syllables, the way his tongue flicked his teeth on the ‘l’. “I’ve wanted you since the day Jurian threw you in that pool.”

Wait…what?

“Wait…what?” she whispered. Lucien’s responding grin was nothing short of foxlike.  

“I’ve been crazy about you, Elain Archeron, since the moment I wrapped my shirt around you. It was the first time you smiled at me. Just me. I’ve been a goner since. And when I saw you in it again today…” he groaned. She felt it as it bubbled up his chest.

“I smiled at you before that,” she whispered again, afraid if she spoke any louder, she’d wake up from this dream.

“Not like that. Not like I was something…special. The only goddamn man in the room. Not like I was your hero,” he rasped out. He was struggling with something. Elain realized she’d been subconsciously rocking her hips against him in the tiniest motion.

“I already told you that you were,” she smiled, rocking her hips gently once again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lucien shut his eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathering. He was barely hanging on. “You kept getting back with Lorde.”

Elain’s heart skipped. She brought her small, calloused hand to his chin and tilted it down until he opened his eyes. She hoped to convey everything in her look because words were beyond her. “I’m not with him now.”

“No…you’re not.” Lucien’s eyes fell to her lips, barely a breath separating them.

Elain held his chin, her thumb coming up to caress his bottom lip. “I would’ve chose you,” she breathed against his lips. “Had you said something, Lucien, I would’ve been yours.”

“Elain…” he breathed her name against her lips, the feel of it somehow more erotic than if he had kissed her. His chest was heaving with his breaths, so deep and uneven.

She leaned in, as close as she could without touching. “What are you going to do now?”

Lucien answered by kissing her softly, barely a brush against her lips. It sent lightning down her spine all the same. “I’m going to do exactly what you asked…if you’ll let me.”

“What I asked?” She was breathless, delirious. Her hips still rocked gently into him, his hands now guiding the movement. When had they gotten there?  

“When you ran in here…now sweet thing, can you remember what you said?” Lucien teased, voice barely more than a rasp. A smile tugged at the corners of those lips.

She nodded. Oh, she remembered.

Lucien tsked, tapping her thigh with one hand in warning. “Words, please.”

“Fuck me,” Elain demanded, loudly.

“With pleasure,” he growled.

It was an unleashing. Lucien turned, slamming her against the back wall, water now spraying down on the both of them. His mouth slanted over hers, full lips sucking her bottom between the two. She opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth for its own.

He pinned her against the wall with his hips as his hands roamed her bare skin, pulling and tugging her dress open to give him more to touch. One hand ran the length of her body, skimming the side of her breast, her neck, her ear before delving into her golden brown locks and yanking her head back so his lips could wrap around her pulse and bite.  One calloused hand slipped under the fabric of her dress, sliding up and up her thigh until it rested on the curve of her ass, kneading the the flesh there.

“Sweetheart…where are your panties?” He breathed against her neck, tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up to her ear.

Her giggle turned to a moan. “I…I don’t wear them to the gym.”

Lucien’s answering groan was nothing short of pornographic. He wrapped his large hand around the sweep of her ass cheek, squeezing and spreading while his pelvis ground into her. She could feel that cock, now somehow sandwiched between them. She’d been too delirious to know how it had gotten there. Until that moment her hands had barely left his shoulders or left the tangle of his long red hair.

She had to feel him. Had to touch him. The urge was overwhelming.

She reached down, fingertips skimming the top of the rounded head of his cock. He was weeping at the slit. She gathered the liquid with her index finger and used it as lubrication, rubbing it around the sensitive head. The tip alone was large, the length of him thick and long. She was fascinated with the silky, hard feel of him.

Elain relished in the strangled cry Lucien gave into her neck as his mouth worked her pulse there. She wrapped him in her hand and began to pump. He jerked, once, twice in her hand. She squeezed a bit tighter, made another pass around the top when his larger hand snaked between them and stopped her. He gently pried her hand off him.

“I’m not going to last,” he breathed heavily next to her temple, “all day…all my fucking life I’ve been dreaming of this. There’s no way … I won’t last if you keep on.” He began to lower her feet to the tiled floor.

One calloused hand came up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. The other ripped the last tie holding her dress together. The dress finally fluttered open, revealing her sun kissed skin and total lack of undergarments.

Lucien groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled. He bent down under the spray, taking one peaked nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking. The other he took in his hand, kneading and pulling at the flesh until Elain whimpered.  

She reached for him, but he angled his hips away again. “Nuh-uh,” he mouthed around her breast. He took one long, biting suck before pulling off with a pop. “Give him some time to cool off before I embarrass myself, sweetheart.” He moved his head to her other breast. “Give me some time to appreciate these gorgeous tits, huh?”

She nodded, bringing her hands up to tangle in his hair, nudging his head back towards his intended goal.  

Taking her lead, Lucien’s mouth descended on her previously neglected breast and went to work keying her up. He alternated between flicking the nipple with his tongue, nibbling at the soft flesh, or downright sucking it. His hands stroked down her sides, skimming her curves, nails grazing as he worked up and down. The sensations were intense, overwhelming. She’d never come from nipple stimulation alone, but…fuck.  

One hand slipped between her legs, long fingers slipping between her folds. The second his finger hit the slick of her his head pulled away from her chest and came to rest against her forehead.

“You are so fucking wet,” he moaned, eyes shut tight. “Is that for me?”

“No,” she lied breathlessly. “Watching Azriel work out got me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cracking open his eyes. His fingers didn’t stop their slow movements. Up and down the seam of her, not once touching her clit or her opening, carefully avoiding where she wanted him most. “You’re such a pretty little liar.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” she tried to sound offended, but his teasing fingers stole her resolve.

“Azriel wasn’t at the library, Elain,” he chuckled darkly, his eyes boring into hers. “I saw how you kept looking at me when I was working.”

“How…how was I looking at you?” Her breath hitched. She tried to move, twist her hips or grind or do anything to get him to touch her where she wanted. She pulled his hair, raked her nails along his skin, but he was steady. Undeterred.

He dipped his head down to the curve of her ear and whispered. “Like you were in that weight room. Like I was a piece of fresh meat.”

“Felt…objectified, did you?” she whined. He pinned her hips back against the tiled wall with his free hand. Lucien nodded sardonically, parting his lips to no doubt give some asshole response. “Want to know a secret?” she interrupted him, voice shaking.

She leaned up as close as he allowed her, her lips grazing his jaw. She’d never been good at dirty talk. Graysen had hated it. She had no idea if Lucien would find this hot or tell her to shut up. “I had to take my panties off in my car after the coffee shop.” He went still, breath frozen in his chest. “I’ve been so wet for you all day, Lucien, that it’s been rubbing me raw,” she moaned, laying it on a little thick but he seemed too far gone to notice.

She took a deep breath and nipped at his jaw. “So won’t you please stop with the teasing and just fuck me already?”   

Lucien said nothing. He trembled in her arms for a moment, as if to collect himself. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again. She could’ve sworn there was literal fire staring back at her. In one swift movement, with no warning, Lucien filled her with his long middle finger. His pointer and ring finger held her open while he twisted slightly, crooking that middle finger and dragging it down inside her.

Elain nearly screamed. He quickly covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the sound. His tongue swept in, licking the length of her mouth while his finger pistoned in and out, dragging down with each thrust. It was incredible, but she needed more. Felt so selfish that she needed more.

She wiggled her butt and Lucien obliged, adding another finger, stretching her deliciously. She could feel how tight she was around his fingers; how great the stretch was. She knotted her fingers in his hair, tugging, keeping him against her.

He'd moved in closer, no longer angling himself away. He ground his cock against her hip for just a bit of his own relief as his fingers dragged her closer and closer to orgasm. She reached again for him, and he grabbed her hand, pinning it over her head, lacing their fingers together. Lucien shook his head against her, a clear no. He delved his tongue back in her mouth.

Elain moaned obscenely as he began to fuck her mouth in time with the fingers fucking her cunt. He devoured it, drinking in her sounds like a dying man. Just as she began to tremble, that weight in her core building and building, Lucien thrust in a third finger, scissoring the three a bit, stretching her beyond anything any man had ever done. He was readying her for his cock, she realized.  She was almost a goner right then with that thought.

Then Lucien ground the heel of his hand against her swollen clit as he thrust those fingers one last time. Her released slammed into her harder than she’d ever felt before. She saw stars. Every muscle in her body contracted, her abs caving in on themselves, her legs shaking uncontrollably. She may have screamed. She’d opened her mouth but either no sound come out, or the pounding of her heart in her ears was so loud she could hear nothing else.

Lucien hauled her against him, holding her tight between him and the wall, stroking her sides in soothing gestures as she started to come down.

“You with me?” he laughed shit-eating grin spread across that handsome face.

Elain nodded deliriously. “H-holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I’ve never … never…” she trailed off, head shaking, legs still trembling. Lucien laughed again, the sound the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

“Should I stop?” he murmured before he kissed her gently one more time.

Elain shook her head viciously. “I’ll kill you,” she hissed, nails digging into his shoulders. “If you fucking stop now, Lucien Vanserra, I will kill you.”    

Lucien erupted in laughter beside her, his whole body shaking. The movement rocked through her as well, and Elain was acutely aware of him still holding her up and open. He had been lining up his cock against her entrance, the tip she had been playing with gliding through her slick. Now, he was holding back. She tilted forward a bit, dragging her still quivering cunt over the head.

“I don’t have a condom, Elain,” he whispered tightly, moving his hips so his cock ground into her slickness broadside, giving her delicious friction. “I am clean though. Haven’t…haven’t in a while, and I’ve been checked since.”

“I’m on birth control,” she said quickly. “I get checked once a year. I’m good.” She was going to die if he didn’t get inside her.

Lucien grinned, lining them up, leaning down to take her mouth in his as he slammed home with one powerful stroke.

Oh fuck…

Oh fuck…

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FUCKING IN MY LOCKER ROOM RIGHT NOW?” Cassian voice thundered through the locker room.

Elain froze up, her pussy clamping down so hard on Lucien’s cock they both had to bite the other to keep from screaming. One hand shot passed her head to steady them as Lucien’s legs began to shake.  

What did she do to the universe? Was she a puppy killer in a past life? Did she burn down a village full of orphans? Had she stepped on too many cracks and her dead mother was torturing her from beyond the grave?

“I’m running a gym, not a goddamn whorehouse, Azriel Singer!” Cassian swore, walking passed their stall. “Vanserra’s showering in here for fuck’s sake.”

“LUCIEN WAS LISTENING?” a high-pitched voice squealed from somewhere further down.

No…no way. There was no fucking way that this was actually happening.

Elain knew that voice.

She bit Lucien’s shoulder harder to keep from making noise. Her body trembled with silent laughter, sending vibrations through her core, which felt so…fucking…good. She just couldn’t enjoy it. Lucien made a small, strangled sound as his hips seemed to involuntarily jerk forward. She felt his cock jump, his body tense and his release fill her.

That fucker just orgasmed.  

She tried to look at him, but he was hiding his face in her neck. She shoved at him. He raised up sheepishly, golden skin nearly as red as his hair. A rush of fluid escaped her as he gently pulled out but didn’t set her down. I am so sorry, he mouthed.

“I didn’t know shit!” he yelled, voice cracking. Elain held on tight, trying her hardest to fight off a grin. Lucien looked like he was slowly losing it.    

“Get out Cassian,” she heard Azriel growl. “No one’s going anywhere with you standing in here.”

A low huff. “Works for me, just stop fucking in my gym!”

“We’ll stop when you stop,” she heard Azriel yell as footsteps retreated out of the locker room. Elain sighed, slumping against Lucien. Poor Lucien, who was still trying to avoid eye contact.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Azriel called out again.

She froze again, inadvertently clawing Lucien once more. His eyes finally met hers. “The fuck you mean?” Lucien asked for her, just as freaked as she was.

“You’re pretty loud, Elain,” the woman said with a laugh.

Elain and Lucien untangled from each other. Lucien wrapped a towel around his waist, his still flagging cock still large enough to tent the fabric. Elain wrapped her wet dress back around her, long enough she figured until she could reach the towel rack.

They stepped out of the stall.

Azriel and Gwyn were standing there, both with mussed hair and angry red marks, sharing satisfied smiles. Azriel still had the rope of one of the spa robes tied around his wrist. “Looks like you had fun,” Lucien remarked, no sign of the embarrassed man from a moment before.

Azriel’s grin threatened to split his face. Gwyn just brushed her leggings off, a little self-satisfied smirk playing on her own face.  

Elain couldn’t say anything.

She was suddenly hyperaware of everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Lucien being quick off the mark. Her own powerful orgasm – which apparently, she was screaming—and the fact she used Azriel’s name while Lucien had his fingers on her pussy.

Yup. She had to have been a puppy killer in a past life. She wondered if she passed out right now, if everyone would forget they heard anything at all.

“It’s totally cool, Elain,” Gwyn laughed, laying a delicate hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Azriel makes me horny all the time.”

“I’m going to die now,” she moaned. Lucien wrapped an arm around her, possessively, pulling her into his side. It was comforting.

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed,” Azriel said in a near sickly sweet tone. He was such an ass when he wanted to be. “It was a good line.”

“How come we didn’t hear you?” Lucien asked, trying to throw attention off of them. His face was slowly returning to its normal hue.

“I gagged him,” Gwyn stated, matter of fact, shrugging her thin shoulders. “And having a twin sister constantly around means you learn to be quiet.”

Elain and Lucien just stared in confusion. She couldn’t speak for Lucien, but Elain just had so many questions. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. She felt like a fish gasping for air, but she just couldn’t make the words come out.

“We were fucking in front of the security cameras,” Azriel answered their silent question. He pointed to the other end of the locker room. “There’s a camera on the storage room on the other side of the lockers. We’ve got equipment in there there Cass wants surveilled, so no…we aren’t pervs with cameras in the showers. It’s not even really in the locker room.”

Elain cocked her head. Honest to God that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Why in front of the cameras?” Lucien asked for her, pulling her in a little closer.  

“He ate your sister out on my desk last week,” Azriel stated plainly, turning to point at Gwyn. “She just fucked me on a new machine he has to assemble.”

“You’re evil,” Lucien chuckled. “But we owe you one.”

Azriel nodded. “I want Eris’s address.”

All three heads turned to Azriel. Even Gwyn looked at him skeptically. “Why for?” she was the one who asked. Lucien quirked a brow, awaiting the answer as well.

Azriel shrugged. “He pisses me off.”

Elain and Gwyn traded incredulous looks. Gwyn opened her mouth, no doubt to tell her partner how stupid he sounded, when Lucien began to nod. “Totally reasonable,” he muttered approvingly. “I’ll text it to you.”  

“Good man,” Azriel tugged at Gwyn’s hand. “Round two?” Gwyn’s answer was a smirk that could only be described as devious.

“Cassian and Nesta are going out for drinks,” Elain offered as she wrapped her arm around Lucien’s waist.

“Fuck yes,” Az said laughing, dragging a giggling Gwyn out of the locker room.

Elain turned to Lucien, “so…”

“I was already so hyped up, and you were so tight – oh my god Elain I’ve never in my life … and then you laughed. Do you have any idea what that feels like when you laugh?” Lucien began rambling. His eyes were wild, and the pink began to creep up his neck. “I’ve never done that before…I swear I –”

“Lucien!” Elain finally shouted, grabbing him by his chin once again. She gently urged him to look at her. “It’s ok. Just…what now?”

Lucien stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head back to see him. He smiled sheepishly. “I meant what I said. I’m crazy about you, Elain.”

“And I meant what I said,” she said breathlessly. “I really do think you’re my hero.”

“Come home with me?” Lucien urged, hugging her to his mostly naked body. “Let me make it up to you.”  

“For the night?”  

“Forever.”        

[felibrary]

HEY FELI HOW HAVE YOU BEEN??? 🥰

I’ve been on my hsr grind cause I’m desperate to read your aventurine works cause your dr ratio one was SO GOOD (he’s one of my faves 💗💗)

I’m at the part where I’ve just entered the dreamscape so I’ve met aventurine at least but honestly that’s all 😭😭

Do you think i should wait cause being patient is killing me 💔

AND I AGREE WITH YOU WRITING IS SO HARD AND I HAVE NO MOTIVATION ATM EITHER and I have an unfinished smau series to sort out help-

YAZIIII!!!! HELLOOOOQOQOA im doing good besides the fact that the heat and humidity is killing me + there are barely any acs im dying 😭😭😭

BUT AHH VERITAS RATIO THE MAN U ARE IM GLAD THAT U ADORE HIM AS MUXH AS I DO. planning to write a new fic for him soon, so stay tuned 🙌

and as for aven or penacony in general be patient! really :) penacony is such an interesting place to read about and discover and there's amazing lore followed by even more amazing cutscenes and voice acting. we especially get to see a lot about aventurine, so reading through his scenes helps you grasp his character more!!

also the penacony quests are very long, pretty sure one of them was like 5 hours? i specifically woke up at 4 am to play it and was done by 9-10 with like very little small breaks in-between 😭😭

but really it goes by really fast if you enjoy it and indulge in it. i wish you very much fun 💗💗

AHH AND YES WRITING WRITING ALTHOUGH I HAVE IDEAS IM SO NOT MOTIVATED TO WRITE RN SO I GET YOUU 😭😭😭 (excited for the smau though!!!)

[usermischief]

♙Pairing: Stackson ♙Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore ♙Warnings/Tags: slice of life, road trip, established relationship ♙Words: 990 ♙Dialogue Prompt: "We're not asking the dragon for directions." ♙Mini Fic Roulette: 32/∞

---

“Dude, we’re not asking the dragon for directions.”

Stiles squints at the questionably majestic creature standing on the sidewalk in the burning sun, waving a sign for Lenny’s Diner around. “I’m not spending another hour in your Porsche, Whittemore.” As great as this car is, it’s not at all suitable for a 6-hour long road trip. But they’ve been in here for almost 8 hours now, and Stiles really needs to move, or he is going to kill someone. “Also, that’s a dinosaur.” 

Jackson squints into the sun. “It has wings.” 

“You do know dinosaurs with wings existed, right?”

“Not looking like this,” Jackson shoots back, and he does slow down the car, although Stiles can’t say for sure if it’s because of the sun getting dangerously low or the realization that they do have to talk to someone to find their way to the cabin they rented. 

Stiles runs his hands over his face. “Jackson, I love you, I do, but if you don’t let me ask for directions, they’re going to find parts of your body in multiple states.” As stubborn as Stiles is, nothing beats Jackson’s pride. There aren’t many ways around it, but Stiles found two that usually help. One of them is bribing him with sex, the other is threatening to kill him. It really depends on his mood which one he chooses. The fact that the latter works should probably be at least somewhat concerning. That means Jackson either thinks Stiles is capable of murder — and getting away with it — or he knows that he only threatens to dump his body all over the US when he’s at the end of his patience. 

Muttering something under his breath Stiles doesn’t catch, Jackson sets the blinker and brings the car to a stop. 

Stiles opens the window, instantly hating the humid air pushing into the car. How this mascot survives in this heat is beyond him. “Hey, sorry.” 

The dinosaur wanders over to them. Up close, the costume does look like a dragon. Stiles grimaces. “‘Sup?” The guy pushes the head up to reveal a confident smile and an impressive amount of freckles. His green eyes jump from Stiles to Jackson and back again. “Nice car.” 

“Thanks,” Jackson replies tersely and seemingly a lot more interested in whatever is going on on the other side of the street. 

“Sorry to bother you,” Stiles says, turning on his seat to face the guy directly, “but we’re looking for Ithaca Falls, and I think we ended up taking a wrong turn.” Or three. It’s hard to tell since Jackson insisted he knew exactly where he was going when he clearly didn’t. The next time they go on a no-phones vacation, they leave them in the car when they arrive instead of nightstands at home. But they both know they will not have any sort of relaxation with their phones anywhere near them, not as a lawyer and an FBI agent for the supernatural. Their jobs are crazy, and the only reason their relationship works out in the first place is with strict rules and the bonus of working the same case on multiple occasions. 

“Yeah, so, you passed the exit already,” Mascot Man chuckles and leans against the hood of the car despite Jackson’s withering stare. "You gotta go back— you got a phone or a map or somethin'? I could show you." He takes his head off, revealing a mess of red curls plastered to his sweaty forehead. 

"No, sorry." Stiles contemplates. He's never going to remember the way, and he doesn't trust Jackson to do so either after getting them in this mess in the first place. "Could you write it down?" Stiles opens the glovebox. The one thing about him is that he's got pens and notebooks everywhere in case he's got to write something down for his job, or simply because he needs to remember something. 

The guy nods and takes the notebook with a grin. "Sure, hold on. It's not far," he explains while taking a glove off with his teeth. "Just a bitch to find."

Raising a brow, Stiles turns to Jackson and mouths, "Map, asshole."

Jackson merely rolls his eyes. He'd never admit that they'd never find it without this guy's help, no matter how complicated the way ends up being.

When the guy is done writing, he hands the notebook back in. 

"Thank you." Stiles puts the notebook on his leg, contemplating the instructions briefly. It's really not that far, around thirty minutes by the looks of it. 

"You're welcome," the guy grins. "And if you're hungry, Lenny's diner is just around the corner."

This finally got Jackson's attention. He leans towards the window and peers at their helper, placing his hand so high on his thigh, everyone and their brother knows he has intimate knowledge of every inch of Stiles’ dick. "We're good, thanks." He revs the engine and all but shoots away from the curb.

With a tight smile, Stiles pats his boyfriend’s hand before squeezing his fingers. "Seriously."

Jackson sets the blinker, so intent on leaving the mascot behind, he doesn't even bother to make a U-turn. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.” Funnily enough, Lydia warned him about how irrationally possessive Jackson can become — not just when it comes to him. He’s also exceptionally possessive when it comes to his best friend, Danny. Jackson made it abundantly clear multiple times that Danny is, in fact, Jackson’s best friend. It’s only funny as long as you don’t look too close. 

“He’s a very polite dragon,” Stiles replies softly. 

Jackson squeezes his thigh with a smile. “Well, where’d he tell us to go?” 

They don’t always apologize, but sometimes admitting they were wrong is just as good. Yawning, Stiles sinks deeper into his seat. “We gotta go left behind the next target then head east for a bit.” 

Jackson nods and sets the blinker. 

[jaskierswolf]

If you're still taking prompts: Dandelion giving Geralt a backrub or massage. Both sfw and nsfw are fine.

Witcher Mine

Ship: Dandelion/Geralt Rating: T Summary: Dandelion worries when Geralt is out on a hunt

On AO3

After travelling with Geralt for over two decades, on and off, one would think that Dandelion would be used to the hunts and the danger. But in truth, they worried. In fact, they probably fretted more now than when they were eighteen. Witchers aged slowly, they knew this, but they did still age, and Geralt was showing signs of slowing down. There were more injuries that lingered these days. Geralt's shoulder ached when it got cold or just before a storm. After a long day on the road, Dandelion would often notice the witcher limping slightly, and this was cause for concern. 

When they'd first met Geralt, the witcher had seemed invincible. Not anymore. Dandelion sighed, watching the fire as their curling tongs rested above the flames. They'd bathed to try and take their mind from off the witcher, to no avail, but the humidity and the steam from the tub had all but killed their precious curls. For a few moments, they'd considered going to bed without fixing their hair, but after their lute strings had broken beneath their fingers, Dandelion really did need something to do with their hands whilst they waited. Curling their hair was a perfect distraction.

The iron was hot against their scalp as they expertly twisted their hair, careful not to let it burn. Even with a potion to ease the damage from the heat, Dandelion was always cautious. The last thing they needed was a mess of burnt hair. It wouldn't do for a master bard and famous troubadour. Not even their hat would be able to save them. The minutes ticked away, the sun dipping beneath the horizon. Twist, hold, release, repeat. Each new curl bounced as they fell from Dandelion's nimble fingers, and they delighted in the way the locks glowed golden in the firelight. It was a little distracting, but that was just what they needed until Geralt returned to them.

"Stupid, bloody witcher," they muttered under their breath. "He just had to be oh so noble. It didn't matter that the villagers had no coin. Oh, ho, ho! No! I had to fall in love with the witcher with a fucking moral code!" 

They weren't being fair and they knew it. But Dandelion was worried. They had every right to be unreasonable. Having met some of Geralt's brethren, Dandelion knew that no other witcher would have taken the contract. There was no point. It would be risking their lives for no coin, but Geralt had seen a child at risk. An orphan. Lost and in danger. 

Dandelion sighed again, twisting a curl between their fingers. Of course, it had been Geralt's goodness and his heart that had captured Dandelion's own. The witcher wouldn't be the man they loved if he hadn't taken the contract. It was a dilemma, one worthy of a ballad. 

"Just this once, I'd like to see him look after himself," Dandelion said to the flames as they danced in the hearth. "I swear if I go grey, it's all his fault. Not that I wouldn't look rather handsome with grey hair, but I'd like to think that I still have a few years of colour left in me. Don't you think? Oh poppycock, Dandelion you're talking to the fire!"

Dandelion couldn't shake the feeling that they should have joined their witcher on the quest.

"Is there something wrong with grey hair, Dandelion?" Geralt called from the doorway. 

The witcher was leaning against the wooden beam, a smirk on his face. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his swords were still strapped across his back. He looked, Dandelion thought, incredibly handsome. More importantly, he looked alive and in one piece. 

"Nothing, my dear, you look dashing as always, but I have a reputation to uphold!" Dandelion cried, setting aside the curling tongs and crossing the room. They kissed Geralt's cheek, took his hand, and pulled him into the bedroom. "Now, don't look at me like that. You know my youthfulness has become just as famous as my work. It wouldn't do to start looking my age now."

Geralt rolled his eyes, but pressed his lips to Dandelion's temple. It was a tender gesture, one that Dandelion had grown used to, but one that never failed to make their heart flutter. "No. It wouldn't do at all. Kingdoms would fall." 

"I know you're mocking me, witcher, but you're not wrong!" Dandelion laughed, gripping onto Geralt's wrist tightly. "Now, onto the bed. I want to check you over," they added with a wink and a flick of their wrist. 

It was a familiar routine by now, and Geralt went willingly. Dandelion helped to unbuckle his armour, and then pulled the witcher's shirt over his head. There were no blood stains which was a good start. Dandelion never did well with blood. Even after all this time, the sight still made their stomach turn. It was a miracle if they managed not to hurl.

"Did you take potions or were you really unharmed?" Dandelion asked, keeping their voice to a low whisper as they let their hands roam over Geralt's pale skin, tracing the scars and warming the muscles underneath. 

"There was no fight. I'm fine, Dandelion," came Geralt's muffled reply, his head buried in the pillows.

 Dandelion scoffed and straddled the witcher's hips. "You're never fine, darling." 

"I'm fine - shit!" 

Dandelion's fingers had dug into a knot just beneath Geralt's shoulder blade. "Ha! I told you so. You never listen, witcher mine."

The process was a long one. Geralt's muscles were wound tighter than a spinning top. He winced and groaned under Dandelion's ministrations, cursing at particularly painful knots, and sighing as they released. It wasn't a sensual massage, although Dandelion was plenty skilled at those too, but it would leave Geralt feeling like putty if they did it right, which they always did. As they worked, Dandelion sang a soft lullaby, one that didn't require too much skill or thought. They hoped it would soothe the pain they caused, but it was hard to tell whether it worked. 

Eventually, Dandelion decided that they were done. There were still some knots left, mostly in Geralt's calves because the whoreson had nearly kicked Dandelion flying when they tried to work on his legs. It would be a puzzle for another day.

 For now, Dandelion pressed a kiss between Geralt's shoulder blades, pausing for a moment to inhale his scent, and then they hopped off the bed. Geralt grumbled, reaching back blindly. 

"Stay," he murmured sleepily. 

"I won't be a moment, Geralt, dear." 

"But-" 

"You need a hot bath and some water. You know what happens when you don't drink after a massage," Dandelion said primly. "So stop your whining. I will be right back." 

Geralt grunted but let his hand drop back onto the mattress. It was a gorgeous sight, truly worthy of the most talented of artists, but it was one for Dandelion alone. Only they were allowed to see Geralt like this. 

Dandelion smiled brightly, brushing Geralt's hair behind his ears, and kissing his head. "I love you."

There was a muffled "You too," from the witcher, making Dandelion laugh in delight before they left to find the innkeeper. All traces of worry and fear had left their body. It was a lovely evening after all.

[bluiex]

(I hope you don't mind me just sending you these ideas I have. I haven't found things I like as much as I do Convex, Convexian, and Scarian. lol) -

The room was mostly jungle-like, rather decently sized, and made to a rather humid temperature. Scar already didn't like it here, the uneasy settled as he had been forced at gun point to enter into the containment unit of SCP 1993, the Watcher as some called him. Other names were Pesky Bird, but the name was muttered by other D-class inmates.

Scar rubbed his arm as he stood at the door and took a breath walking inside. He could see the remains of the campsite, and he tried to ignore the blood still around the area. He could feel eyes on him, he knew the creature was watching him.

D-class mates didn't last long, they were expendable and easily replaced. Meant to do the job the scientists knew for a fact would get them killed. To test and mess with the objects and creatures that extended far beyond what they could understand. Scar was innocent, he swore up and down he was, but the justice system was neither far nor legal as he found out.

Apparently, just being branded as a murderer made you beyond help. This felt like a violation of so many rights. But being in this dreary place reminded Scar that rights were hard-earned and so easily taken away. He was a number and a body, he didn't have a name, names meant attachments... researchers couldn't be attached.

Sure, survival meant he'd be pardoned with an impressive set of cash. But.. no one ever lived that long. And frankly, Scar was counting his lucky stars right now.

He is going to die.

Oh, he knew that much, anyone assigned to Watcher's room never lived beyond 2 days at most. But he was glad to know it would be swift, not as swiss cheese due to bullet holes, torn apart by a creature that didn't like being stared at, or being grabbed by a plague doctor and turned into a monster.

His only 'job' was to go in and try to... 'play' with the Wacher. Scar wanted to smack that man when he said that outside. They wanted him to basically rape the being! They wanted him to mount onto the Watcher, impregnate the creature in heat, and that was it. Apparently, they were desperate too, all other... less than savory inmates had been killed by the creature. So they opted for him, stating he was 'good looking enough' thinking the creature had a type.

Scar swallowed hard, it was disgusting is what it was. He was a man of more dignity than that, but when you're threatened at gunpoint... it's not like he had a choice. The eyes were watching him still, and he just wanted the suspense to be over with. He sat down at the log and silently could only await his fate like the other D-class that came here.

After a long moment, the sound of something rustled. Scar looked up quickly looking around the area. Cameras was watching them, the containment unit had been turned into a 'jungle' to try and get the creature comforts to want to breed. It hadn't worked, though it was pleased with privacy, it also didn't seem interested in anyone.

Scar looked around again, then felt his breath hitched as he saw... it.

It was rather small in stature, possibly only 5 foot, but had large, rather beautiful red, blue, and golden wings. It... looked human-ish. Having two arms, and a head that was framed by dirty brown locks of curly hair. But there were parts that weren't human, big, round black eyes, the 'legs' were bird legs that were torn at the knees, showing clawed bird feet.

The face also held red and golden feathers around the cheeks and leading up to the 'ears', which also winged themselves! It was the teeth and hands that made Scar more uneasy. The teeth were sharp, a row of canines made for tearing and cutting no doubt. He heard them say it had the jaw strength to break a human's bone.

The hands were also ended in talons, that were still caked in blood.

For the most part, the creature was clothed, having on a red sweater that looked comfortable despite the humidity. And the jeans were torn at the knees but still held on their hips. The clothing was bulk, so it was hard to tell about the shape of the creature.

*Click. Click. Click*

The creature's mouth moved, making this clicking sound, Scar watching as the throat moved to make the bird-like sound. Eyeing Scar, even if Scar couldn't tell if the black eyes were moving or not. He swallowed hard and started to tremble a bit.

Just because he knew he was going to die... didn't mean he still wasn't scared.

"You know your orders, D-class." a woman over the speaker said, "When you think you can, please move forward to SCP 1993, and begin to try and mount him."

The SCP's head snapped from the ceiling over to Scar, and eyes narrowing, Scar shifted back at that, and a small hiss was heard, baring sharp teeth. Wings fanned out, flaring, making the creature seem bigger. And Scar got the message loud and clear.

'Try it, if you dare.'

Scar pressed his knees closer to him to put more distance between him and the birdman.

This was always the fate of a D-Class... claws, teeth, and blood. And Scar was now only waiting for the inevitable.

-

( I would write more.. but character limits lol... do you guys want me to write more?)

I love your ideas and writing so much dude. It's such a treat reading anything you send in. So much so you should catalog it on ao3 👀👀

OH I LOVE THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH