#bird hunting destinations

[largemouthbassnation]

Great upland bird hunting in Coloroado

Shooting Sportsman writer Eddie Nickens talks about the first upland hunt he has just had with son Jack at Kessler Canyon in … source

[brunchable]

Secret Santa | S. R.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x F!Reader Themes: Ex-lovers. Petty Revenge but Steve is just sweet ;_; Summary: You and Steve are forced to participate in your friend group Secret Santa gift exchange, and of course, you end up assigned to each other. You're determined to give him the worst gift possible, but his surprisingly thoughtful present throws you off—and leaves you questioning your assumptions about him. A/N: This oneshot is a part of my 4K follower Christmas Celebration. Also this one will be connected to Santa Baby that will be released next week. dividers by @saradika-graphics

It wasn’t your idea to do Secret Santa. You’d never suggest something so contrived, so obviously destined for disaster. No, this brilliant plan came courtesy of Nat, whose mischievous smirk while handing out the hat of names told you she knew exactly what she was doing.

The moment you unfolded the slip of paper and saw his name, you felt the universe mocking you. Steve Rogers. Captain Perfect. Your ex.

You stared at the paper as though sheer willpower might summon a new name. It didn’t. Across the room, Steve raised his eyebrows as he read his own slip, the corner of his mouth twitching. You had a sinking suspicion the universe had played a cruel joke on him, too.

“What are the odds?” Nat said, sidling up next to you with a glass of wine.

“Oh, I don’t know. Rigged?” you hissed back, crumpling the paper in your fist.

Steve Rogers had a habit of ruining things. Like relationships. Or, in this case, your plans to breeze through the gift exchange with a generic mug or a gift card. No, this was war. You were going to find the most obnoxious, useless gift imaginable. The kind of thing that screamed, I know exactly what you hate, and I’m leaning into it.

You weren’t just shopping for a gift. You were shopping for revenge.

The mall was an absolute hellscape of holiday cheer—children screaming, Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You blasting on loop, and couples holding hands like it wasn’t a battlefield. You were on a mission, weaving through the chaos, hunting for something so heinous that it would make Steve Rogers cringe.

The first store you entered was a pop-culture knick-knack shop. It was overflowing with mugs that said, “Live, Laugh, Love,” and socks decorated with pizza slices. You rolled your eyes. Too tame. Too basic. No, you needed something with bite. Something so wrong that Steve would open it and instantly regret ever existing.

That’s when you saw it. A coffee mug. But not just any coffee mug.

It was massive, comically oversized, the kind of mug that could double as a soup bowl. Bright red, with bold, white text plastered across the front:

“WORLD’S OKAYEST LOVER.”

You snorted so loudly a nearby teenager gave you a dirty look. But it wasn’t enough. Oh no. You needed more.

Two hours later, you stumbled into the most chaotic store in the mall: an unhinged combination of novelty items, offensive gag gifts, and borderline illegal paraphernalia. The walls were lined with things like glow-in-the-dark shot glasses shaped like butts and calendars full of “inspirational” quotes… all of which were expletives. And there, under a flashing neon sign that screamed, BEST GIFT IDEAS EVER, you found it.

The pièce de résistance.

A calendar. Not just any calendar, though. It was titled:

“12 Months of Aggressive Affirmations.”

The cover featured a cartoon bunny flipping the bird. Each month was worse than the last—January read: “GET UP AND FUCKING WIN,” February shouted, “STOP BEING A SAD LITTLE BITCH,” and March simply screamed, “YOU’RE NOT THE PROBLEM, EVERYONE ELSE IS JUST DUMB AS SHIT.”

You couldn’t breathe. You were doubled over, tears streaming down your face as you clutched the calendar. It was perfect. Aggressive. Vulgar. Completely unnecessary. And most importantly? It would absolutely short-circuit Steve Rogers’ clean-cut, wholesome brain.

You slapped it down on the counter, ignoring the cashier’s judgmental look as they scanned it.

“You okay?” they asked, clearly unnerved by the manic grin plastered across your face.

“Oh, I’m great,” you said, pulling out your card. “This is going to make someone very uncomfortable.”

————

On the day of the exchange, you could hardly contain your excitement. The calendar was wrapped in gaudy, glittery paper that shed sparkles everywhere—another little insult aimed directly at Steve. When he finally picked it up, his brow furrowed at the excessive tape you’d used to ensure he’d struggle opening it.

Everyone watched as he peeled away the layers, muttering something about how you always made things difficult. But when the calendar came into view, his face went completely blank.

“‘Aggressive Affirmations,’” he read aloud, flipping to January. “‘GET UP AND FUCKING WIN.’” His lips twitched, but he refused to give you the satisfaction of a laugh. Instead, he held it up, deadpan. “Wow. You really went for it.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, smirking.

Nat practically fell off the couch laughing. “This is… incredible.”

“Yeah, this’ll look great in his bedroom,” Bucky added, snatching it to flip through the months. “Oh, man, look at June. ‘YOU’RE HOTTER THAN A FUCKING FOREST FIRE.’ Steve, this is the kind of energy you need.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I hate all of you.”

But when you caught his eye, you saw it—a flicker of amusement, quickly smothered by exasperation.

“This is going in my gym. Where no one else can see it.” He put the calendar down carefully, shaking his head. 

“Oh no,” you said, grinning wickedly. “It’s going on your fridge. Front and center. So every morning, you can start your day with a dose of aggressive self-love.”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed.”

“Oh, be impressed,” you said, raising your glass. “It’s the best gift you’ll ever get.”

And when he smiled—small, reluctant, but genuine.

Steve wasn’t good at gifts. Not because he didn’t try, but because he overthought everything. For him, giving a gift wasn’t just about handing someone an object; it was a gesture, a piece of himself. And when it came to you—well, he hadn’t earned the right to give you anything, had he?

The relationship ended because of him. That much was clear. He’d been the one who pulled away, too overwhelmed by his own insecurities and the shadow of the life he thought he couldn’t offer you. And yet, here he was, standing in front of a boutique window, staring at the dress he knew you’d wanted for months.

He remembered the first time he saw you touch it. You weren’t even shopping for yourself. You’d dragged him into the boutique while looking for a birthday gift for Natasha, weaving through the racks with easy confidence. But then, you stopped.

Just for a moment.

The dress was simple—red silk, with delicate straps and a neckline that dipped just enough to make you bite your lip in that nervous way he loved. Your fingers brushed over the fabric, and you sighed, soft and wistful.

“Beautiful,” you’d murmured, almost to yourself.

Steve had stood a few steps behind, pretending to check his phone. He remembered how quickly you moved on, like you didn’t want to linger too long. You probably thought he hadn’t noticed. But he did. He always noticed.

Now, months later, Steve stood in the same boutique, heart pounding like he was about to charge into battle. The sales associate greeted him with a warm smile, clearly trying not to gawk at the former Captain America standing awkwardly among racks of designer dresses.

“I’m looking for a gift,” he said, clearing his throat.

“For someone special?”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “Yeah. She’s, uh... she’s special.”

The associate nodded knowingly and led him straight to the dress. “This one’s a favorite. Classic, elegant.”

Steve reached out, fingers grazing the fabric just as yours had. It felt like silk against his calloused palms—soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch.

“She looked at this one,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “A while ago. I don’t think she thought I noticed.”

The associate smiled gently. “Well, you noticed. That’s what matters.”

He bought it without hesitation, ignoring the price tag. The dress came in a sleek black box tied with a ribbon, and Steve carried it home like it was the most precious thing in the world.

————

That night, Steve sat at his kitchen table with the box in front of him, a pen poised over a blank card. Words had never been his strong suit, but he needed you to know this wasn’t just a gift—it was an apology, a hope, a quiet confession.

After a long moment, he began to write:

Y/N,

I’m not great at words, but you always told me it’s the thought that counts. I saw you look at this dress once, and I don’t know if you even remember, but I do. You should have something beautiful because you deserve everything beautiful in the world. I know I’m the last person who should be saying that. But maybe this can say what I haven’t been able to.

—Steve

He stared at the card for a long time before tucking it into the box.

On the day of the gift exchange, Steve handed you the box without a word. Your name was scrawled on the tag in his careful handwriting. You hesitated, eyeing him warily, but curiosity got the better of you.

As you untied the ribbon and opened the lid, your breath caught.

The dress.

The room felt smaller somehow, the chatter of your friends fading into the background. You didn’t know what to say, and Steve didn’t push. He just stood there, watching you with that quiet, earnest expression that used to make your heart ache.

Your fingers brushed over the fabric, just as they had that day in the boutique. For a moment, you couldn’t speak.

“You remembered?” you finally whispered, looking up at him.

Steve shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I always remember.”

You froze at his words, the weight of them pressing down on your chest. It wasn’t just the dress—it was everything. All the times he’d been paying attention when you thought he wasn’t. All the moments you’d convinced yourself he didn’t care.

Your throat tightened as guilt began to creep in, sharp and relentless.

“I—” You stopped, fingers curling into the fabric. The silk felt too soft, too expensive, too meaningful in your hands. “Steve, I don’t... I don’t deserve this.”

His brow furrowed, and he took a small step closer. “Why would you say that?”

You laughed weakly, a bitter sound. 

“Because I’ve spent weeks trying to think of the worst gift to give you. Something obnoxious. Something petty. And you...” You gestured at the dress, your voice breaking slightly. “You did this.”

His gaze softened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “You don’t have to feel guilty about that. I get it. You’re angry at me. You have every right to be.”

You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing. “But I shouldn’t still be mad. It’s been months. You tried, Steve. You really tried, and I—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he interrupted gently.

But that only made it worse. Because you did—not for being angry, but for the way you’d handled it. For not seeing how hard he was trying now.

“I just—” You exhaled shakily, holding the dress tighter against you. “I thought you weren’t paying attention. That I didn’t matter to you like that. And now... this.”

Steve’s jaw tensed, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. 

“You mattered,” he said simply, the rawness in his tone cutting straight through you. “You always mattered. I just... didn’t know how to show it before.”

The room was suddenly too warm, too loud. You felt exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. His words clung to you like static, leaving no room to breathe.

You lowered your eyes, staring down at the dress in your hands. “This... it’s beautiful, Steve. It’s too much. I don’t deserve it after—”

“You do,” he interrupted, his voice firm this time. “You deserve something beautiful. Even if you hate me, Y/N.”

You glanced up sharply at that, seeing the way his eyes flickered with something like regret—or maybe hope.

“I'm sorry. I don’t—” You stopped yourself. Lying felt crueller than the truth. “I don’t hate you, Steve. I just... I don’t know what to do with all of this.”

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything. It’s a gift. No strings attached.”

And somehow, that made the guilt worse. Because he meant it. You could tell. And it left you wondering if maybe he’d always meant it, even when he didn’t know how to show it.

“Thank you,” you said softly, clutching the dress like a lifeline.

Steve nodded, his hands still buried in his pockets as he stepped back, giving you space. But his eyes lingered, and for the first time in months, you felt like you really saw him. Not the perfect soldier, not your ex—but the man who’d been paying attention all along.

Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u @rogersbarber @veronicapaula

@fynnwolff @bmyva1entine @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @awaywithtime

[yameoto]

angel in your pocket quinn fabray.

warnings; sub!quinn, angel!reader. not hate-fucking. irritated-fucking. masturbation (in the same room as an angel), voyeurism because God Is Always Watching, motel room sex. spn!au quinn wc; 2k.

Quinn hasn’t had alone time in what feels like a fucking millenia. In the grand scheme of things, out of all that she’s sacrificed for the hunting life; her innocence, childhood, a normal, healthy relationship with literally any human being—negligible, compared to the great and terrible woe of having absolutely zero time to masturbate.

Like, seriously. Almost zilch. Hell, nowadays she’ll flop back to bed after a hunt and pass out from exhaustion. Not even enough time to sneak in an innocent tryst against her pillow.

So, of course—with the rare occasion of her baby sister and her being (forcibly) split up for a hunt, for once; and Quinn having her first free day in—well, years (also, forcibly)—when she cranks the blinds down, sinks onto the motel room mattress, bedsprings creaking underneath her—she’s prepared for the most blissful, mind-numbing, apex-of-Nirvana type of relaxation. Involving; a bolt-locked door, three fingers, and a whole lot of time.

Except, things can never go Quinn’s way. Because just when she’s sufficiently worked herself up enough to sport a damp spot, hips rocking upwards as the barest brush of her fingers catches the hem of her underwear—there’s a sudden, blinding crack of light—the familiar crackle of ozone; and such heralds her favourite (derisive) and only guardian angel standing over her bed. 

“What in the ever living fuck?” Quinn hisses, scrabbling to fling the blankets over herself. “What the hell is wrong with you?” (You’d think, around an angel, Quinn would tone down the swearing. Except being raised by a gunslinging, monster-smoking preacherman meant Quinn veers from the Lord’s name like it's red-hot iron. Cussing was free-game, though. Swear words are made-up; God isn’t.)

You scrunch your nose, wings outstretched, tips brushing the motel room’s popcorn ceiling. You sniff the air. Heady. Thick with the scent of Quinn’s arousal. 

“It reeks.” 

Quinn prays you get asbestos in your feathers. 

“Were you indecent?” In your stupid angel get-up, feathery wings and all, the inquisitive tilt of your head makes you look like an oversized bird. A quizzical owl. She’s also just being mean in her head on purpose because 1. She knows you can hear this cute little introspection, if you can be bothered listening. (No, she’s not bitter that you’ve been ignoring her prayers for weeks), 2. She also knows you’re just fucking with her, because your lips are quirking upwards, and Oh, hoot-fucking-hoot. “Shouldn’t you tell me?” Quinn scowls, yanking her top over her head as she grumbles. You’ve breezed right on to the topic of the coming rapture. Lovely.

“Lilith. Her arrival cometh in four days. You and your sister must cross state lines by then.”

“Okay.” Quinn is only half-listening. She’s far too preoccupied with the red-hot pulse still throbbing at her crotch. Her briefs cling, damp against her skin. Sticky. Underneath the blankets, she squeezes her thighs together. Shit. Shiiiit. It gives her a brief reprieve, but it’s still not enough.

“—and if you do not give the angels an answer soon, they will keep coming. Michael—”

“It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I ever say yes to that fucker. You hear me?” She growls as her fingers run over the sodden fabric of her underwear, lashes fluttering as she skims up her waistband—because the reminder that she is, apparently, destined to be a hollow shell housing an archangel to shank the devil (housing her baby sister) is not enough to kill the last lingerings of her good mood. 

“I hear the Ninth Circle is unpleasantly frigid.” Quinn snorts. “You are such a smartass.” She circles her fingers, ever-so-slightly, against the thin barrier that just barely separates the ache in her soul from sweet, sweet relief. You are still, depressingly, there, and rambling on about scriptures and duties and blah, blah blah. She’d memorised all of that shit when she was three. Burned into the back of her skull. Experimentally, she applies a bit of pressure, just to ease herself. Quinn swallows, hard. 

“You’re not listening to me.” There’s that pretty little frown. 

“No, m’totally listening.” Quinn bucks her hips upwards, and her clit bumps against the ridges of her fly. She almost moans out loud. “I’m just saying no.” Maybe if she rocks her hips it’ll get a little friction righttt—ah, yeah. There’s the spot. “You’re aroused.” 

Whatever snarky quip Quinn was about to say wilts on her tongue. She pauses her movements, of which was hooking her index down to shimmy her briefs down her thighs, to glower—cheeks puffing out to exhale a frustrated huff. “Yeah, well, you picked a pretty shitty time, if you asked me.”

You sigh. “The dawn of the apocalypse will not wait for you to finish masturbating, Quinn.” 

Then, promptly and unceremoniously, you rip the blanket off of her. She is ashamed to say, she squeals. “Wh— hey!” Cold air rushes quick enough to shiver, band of her briefs rolled just enough that her cunt is exposed, and a current runs down her spine at the way your gaze falls, honing in on it.

Instinctively, Quinn goes to wrench the covers back over, of course, but attempting to tear the scratchy thing out from your hands is like trying to move a literal mountain. It’s also, long-forgotten in the swift way  you glide forwards, smoothly sliding to your knees and clasping strong (and somehow, gentle) hands at her knees and nosing between her legs and—

“Um. What’re you doing?” The words spill out in a rush, body tense—alarm bells ringing, because in the brief time she’s known you, Quinn has discovered she doesn’t quite know as much about angels as she thought she did—or as Father had told her— but she certainly didn’t think angels were in the business of peering up at her with those innocuous, unblinking doe-eyes of yours, through those stupidly lush lashes. Nor prying her thighs apart and swiping a thumb over the sticky residue left behind with a low, rumbling hum and shit. When did she get that wet?

“You’re not focusing. You must focus. This is the most efficient solution.”

“Fucking me is the most efficient solution?” Quinn gapes, and if her voice cracks and comes out an entire register higher, that’s her business. “That’s—you’re shameless!”

“I’m shameless? An Angel of the Lord visits upon you, urges you of your role in the Holy Scriptures, and you begin pleasuring yourself.”

Okay, when you put it like that, Quinn doesn’t have much ground. 

“I was finishing,” She blusters, cheeks flaming She’s arguing for the sake of arguing—with all the petulance she can muster, because otherwise, she doesn’t know what is an appropriate reaction to an angel’s tongue flicking up your skin, nose nudging between the crook of your warm, wet folds and inner thigh. 

Her breathing grows ragged. Fuck, fuck— fuck. “It’s not my fault you come at the worst time ever—” She’s aware she sounds like a bratty teenage girl, but you also lecture her with an ego the size of a small city, and when your tongue finally meets the sopping heat of her cunt, she makes a sound the furthest thing from holy. “Can—fuck—a girl not knock?”

“The Lord doesn’t knock.” You retort plainly, flat of your tongue dragging upwards. Quinn speaks through gritted teeth, fists curling. 

“‘Behold—I stand at the door, and knock; if any man hear my voice and—oh, fuck..—open the door, I will come into him—”

You stop in your tracks, head lifting. Any disappointment at the way your tongue slips out from her folds is quelled by the sizable strip of satisfaction unfurling in her gut. Seeing you; stare incredulous, mouth still open. For once, you’re the one taken off-guard. 

“Did you just.. quote scripture at me?” A draught sweeps in the room, and your fingers twitch inside of her as if considering whether to curl them to the knuckle or jerk yourself out entirely or reach up her ribs and perhaps yank her heart out from the inside. You do none of those things, and instead settle on gaping in utter disbelief. Quinn grins. 

“Revelations; chapter three, verse twenty, baby.” Quinn’s not her Daddy’s girl for nothing. 

“..It was an euphemism.” You grumble, annoyed, and if Quinn didn’t know any better—embarrassed—though from here, she can only see the flushed tips of your ears. Tne hand gripping her thigh tightens, a pressure so negligible Quinn might think she’d imagined if—if it weren’t for the fact, that, out of fucking nowhere, your thumb presses hard against the swollen bud of her clit. 

She cries out, hips jolting up off the mattress, and you don’t let her come back down–one hand supporting her entire bodyweight, as her legs quake. She scrabbles for purchase, and finds your hair a suitable levy.

“Ah—what the—fuck—” “And you call me the smartass,” You grunt, and another finger snakes in underneath the others, with a squelch so obscene Quinn almost blushes, though she only whines with approval instead. You thrust, deeper. “If you had talked back in such a way in B.C, I would’ve ripped out your tongue.” 

Score. Quinn totally knew she got you all hot and bothered. Despite it all, she can’t stop the smirk worming its way on her lips. You can’t win against a celestial being shaped by God—but you can savour the little victories. 

You’re panting, she can feel it—each puff of your breath—coming hot along her thighs and against her ella’s and into her cunt. Quinn is all at once hit with the dizzying thought that, that same breath has blown entire civilizations to dust—and right now—right now it’s being used to dirty-talk into her pussy. 

“It wasn’t even written in B.C, you sanctimonious—oh, fuck.” Apparently, you don’t appreciate her sense of humour, because you ravage her like you’re trying to carve out a space for Michael yourself with your teeth, fingers sliding in deep and pressing out against her walls, fighting against the resistance in their tight clenches—stretching out, as your tongue swirls over her clit. For a moment, her entire brain empties, and the tension—winding, winding, winding in a band she didn’t even know existed—snaps. Her hiss is strangled, nails curling into dank bedsheets and a white-hot flash has her thighs crunching together, slamming down against your head and all as she gasps at the feeling, like iron striking stone. It’s the most surreal thing she’s ever fucking experienced. She grasps, free hand fisting the back of your head, tightly, and she’s grinding out the sopping, slick folds of her pussy against your open mouth, legs coiled around your neck like a vice. 

In the bleary remnants of thoughts she has, she figures you can’t mind too much. Angels don’t need breath, after all. (The sexy heaves of your chest when you pant, splattered with demon blood or the spine-arching way you glide up her thighs is designed, specifically, to torture her, she thinks). 

It’s the quickest orgasm she’s ever had, in all whopping twenty-six years of her life.

Your chin come away glistening, a glassy sheen coating skin and trickling, down the holy, unblemished stretch of your neck to your clavicles. 

“..Wow.” She croaks.

Her eyes, unbidden, follow the bob of your throat. You swallow. An audible ah bursts through your lips, like you’ve just downed a bubbly pitcher of beer rather than her cum. Through the renewed pounding in her head and cunt, she hears a strangled whimper. She realises it’s her own, too late. 

She needs a beer, right about now. She watches, with hazy eyes, as you simply get up off the mattress and stray to the rickety table that hosts nothing but empty cans and spare ammunition. You pull out two chairs, opposite one another.

“..Not the cuddlin’ type, then?” She rasps, weakly. Damn you and your stupid feathers for looking so unruffled when you still have her juices dribbling down your throat. She’s overcome with inscrutable urge to wrench you back by the collar and lick her salt off your skin.

“Come. We must finish our talk.”

Quinn flops, her face buried into the pillow. Her eyes are heavy, lids dropping as she groans into cushion.

“..You’re not serious.”

“I did say, efficient."

[the-californicationist]

The Window (4 of 7)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 --- AO3 Link

Seeing him again had been a shock. They’d arrived late — not that you were checking on their flight or anything — and they were all a bit worse for wear. Usually, after any mission, good or bad, the flight home was cathartic. Everyone could breathe easy. They were going home to good food and infinite WiFi. It was cause for celebration, no matter how beaten and bruised they felt. But, this time was different.

Price was walking through the hangar while you were cataloging ammunition shipments, lowly desk work while your leg healed up, and he looked so small. Well, he still towered over all of the other soldiers in the bay - except for Ghost - but he just looked so pale and listless. His eyes were dull, staring at the ground, watching his feet take their steps, aimlessly driven to his next destination. 

Ghost followed him, equally distracted. His mask was off, and you could see his eye-black smeared all the way down to his mouth, like he’d been rubbing his face, fretting. Gaz had looked furious. He was tossing their gear like it had personally offended him, and he railed into one of the trainees for getting in his way. His warm brown eyes had turned cold and harsh, unfeeling. 

Soap was the worst. He jumped from the chopper and immediately started to scan the room, looking for you. He pulled one of the mechanics aside and you heard him asking for you by name, and as the man pointed in your direction, you hid behind the crates. Undeterred, he headed your way, so you crawled into the dark space between where he wouldn’t find you. He searched and searched, pushing aside heavy boxes and truck wheels, hunting for you. He became frantic, pacing back and forth, until Price called his name. His eyes lingered on the darkness where you were hidden, looking but not seeing. Then, glassy-eyed, he retreated, his gaze turning from desperation to unbridled frustration. 

It was when you’d been trying to sneak back to the barracks that Price had found you, chasing you through the base. You weren’t running, per se, but you were moving quick enough, and you had quite the head start. He, however, was sprinting, pushing people out of his way, calling after you. When he saw the look on your face, he knew he was in trouble. 

“Get back here, Sparrow! That’s an order,” he shouted down the hall. 

You turned around to face him, throwing up your hands in an exaggerated shrug,

“You’re not my CO, sir.”

“Spar — Get out of the bloody way!” He shoved a trainee into the wall, pushing past him in an attempt to follow you to your room. 

Price was panting, his chest heaving as he grabbed for you, his hands sinking into your soft flesh. You wrenched your body away from him and blocked him from coming into your room. He furrowed his brow and said,

“It’s Sunday. It’s my day.”

“I’m already pregnant. Your services are no longer needed,” you spat, “Much like mine, apparently.”

You tried to shut the door on him, but he blocked it with his huge shoulders, looking at you with a ravenous hunger in his eyes,

“I just got back from the fuckin’ sandbox. We can fight later, but I need you, little bird. Please.”

“And I need you to go fuck yourself… sir.” You slammed the door so hard that you thought you broke the hinges. 

You listened to the handle jiggle in the lock from Price’s audacity. Then, silence. 

Why was it the silence that hurt the worst?

Soap was at your door that night, banging on it, shaking the frame,

“Bonnie! I ken you’re in there. Lemme in. I jus’ wanna talk to you. Bonnie?”

Silence again, and then there was a slow, wiping sound against the door, like a big palm being slid down it. 

“Sparrow? Please.” His voice was so strange. It seemed small. Usually, Soap was the loudest, the most boisterous. And now, he sounded ill. 

You listened at the door, hurt and angry, but missing your men. Hearing Johnny beg was almost enough to make you unlock it. Almost.

Over the next week, they all tried to get back in your good graces. Gaz brought you flowers no matter where you were. He covered your desk with them, and you kept throwing them out or giving them away. He left them outside your door, sitting in the hall, complete with little handwritten cards: 

I’m so sorry, baby. Please text me? - G.

Come to the main hall? We just need to talk. - G.

You ripped his notes up and tossed them in the trashcan irreverently. 

Johnny had been a little less subtle. At the end of a long day, he’d be waiting outside your door, sometimes alone, sometimes with the others, trying to get you to listen to him, 

“C’mon, bonnie. Dinnae shut us out. Please, lass.”

You had become an expert at the cold shoulder. 

Ghost, fitting with his quiet demeanor, wouldn’t beg. In fact, he wouldn’t say a word. But, he followed you everywhere, haunting your office, stalking you at the gym, sitting at your table during briefings. One time, he cornered you in the elevator, riding with you past his own floor, his eyes burning into your skin. 

And then there was Price. Other than his presentations during mission briefings, you hadn’t heard his voice since that very first day. But, he was always around. His smoke gave him away. Your room reeked of his tobacco, and when you were working, you’d smell it in the air. But, when you’d look up to spot him, he was nowhere to be found. 

That didn’t mean he failed to reach out to you. He was always on your phone. He called you every morning when he woke up, and he called again every night when you went to bed. You never picked up, but as you lay in bed watching his smiling face pop up on your home screen again, this time, you did.

You didn’t say hello. You just waited to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him again. Anything. Just a hello. 

“Sparrow, it was me. It wasn’t them. You have to forgive them. I was the one who —”

You hung up the phone and cried into your pillow hard enough to make yourself sick. 

After that night, things got so much worse. Your emotions were raw, and everything made you terribly sad. Your body was in desperate need of someone to care for it, and your hormones were going absolutely haywire. You were either nauseated or horny, and there was no warning which would hit at any given moment. 

You found yourself sneaking out of work early, hiding in the shower, furiously coming on your hand over and over, thinking - wishing - that it was Soap's or Gaz's mouth instead. When you lay in bed at night, you desperately ground your hips into your dildo, riding it like you wanted to ride John and his men, wanton and soaking your sheets.

Eventually, you had reached your limit, and you met Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the mess hall. They were all sufficiently apologetic, and they were curious as to what had changed your mind.

“Dinnae get me wrong, lass. It’s been hard without you, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… why are you forgivin’ us?”

“Price told me what he did. He said it wasn’t your decision to take me off the team.”

“That’s not true,” Ghost refuted, earning himself a swift nudge from Soap and a glare from Gaz. 

“Shut up, mate. Do y’know how long it’s been since —” Gaz hissed, but Ghost interrupted him.

“The captain was the one who fought to keep you on the task force. He was out-voted.”

“Out-voted? There’s only four of you. Should’ve been at draw…” you observed.

“Exactly. We all voted against him. You’ve no bloody business on the field right now, and you know it. You can barely sit here with us for ten goddamn minutes before you’re sprintin’ off to wretch in whatever can’s the closest.”

You averted your eyes from him, trying to process what he was saying, and feeling the sting of shame when you had to admit that he was right. This first trimester had been an absolute nightmare. You were a sweaty, puking mess here in the offices, and you shuddered to think of feeling this way out in the Urzikstani sands, getting shot at, eating nothing but MREs and instant decaf coffee. 

“We just wanted the best for you, birdie,” Gaz reached out for your hand and held it in his, “We know how badly you want this baby, and we…” He looked at the others for a moment and said, “And we’ve fallen in love with you, Sparrow. We can’t lose you. Let us take care of you.”

You were so tired, and you needed to release the tension you’d been holding inside of your chest, so you relented. 

They followed you back to your room and sat you on the bed, kissing you so deeply that you could feel their hunger. They’d been waiting for you. 

All of them were dripping with precome, and you watched as it stained the thick canvas fabric of their pants, making you wonder if they’d even touched themselves in the time they were apart from you. 

They began to strip themselves and you, kissing every bit of your skin, leaving purple marks from their aggressive desire. Gaz held your hand to his crotch and rubbed it across the front, making you feel his hardening rod, encouraging you to stroke him. Johnny was busying himself with your pants, aching to put his mouth on your molten core, and just the thought of his tongue was enough to make you shiver. 

Ghost bent to suck at your nipples, peeling your shirt and bra off in one go, and you held his head, cradling him with as much affection as you could muster, but as you looked up at you, he knew there was something wrong. 

“Hey, stop.”

The others, as if burned, immediately stopped their worship of your body and looked up at you. 

Ghost continued to pry,

“What is it, love?”

“I just…” You could feel yourself start to cry. 

“You miss him, don’t you?”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You may have forgiven Simon, Johnny, and Kyle, but you missed John. You needed him there. Without him, even their kisses felt hollow. 

“We’ll bring him back to you, dinnae fash, hen,” Soap reassured you, throwing on his shirt. 

“C’mon, he’s in the gym. I saw him with his bag,” Ghost followed Soap out of your door, hard as a stone and trying to adjust himself to something a little less indecent. 

Gaz kissed your lips, his full mouth warm and tasting of cinnamon sugar,

“Be right back, pretty girl.”

You waited five minutes, then ten. You decided to lay down, just for a moment, and before you knew it, you were out. 

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but you woke up in someone’s arms, opening your eyes and watching as he lay you in the big, combined bed the five of you shared. You turned to see his face when you felt him crawl into the sheets beside you, blinking the sleep away and trying to catch your bearings. 

“John?” You croaked, struggling to find your voice. 

“Shh,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, little bird.”

“They told me…”

“I know. They bloody well shouldn’t have. You need them. You’re both going to need them.”

“I can’t be mad anymore, John. I’m so tired. I just want you all back. Please,” you clutched at his chest, drawing him closer to you in the small bed, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sparrow. Here. Feel?”

John’s huge cock was half-hard, and he fit it inside you, slipping it into your wet pussy, squeezing himself through you, just as he loved to do, letting you warm him up. The shock of it went right to your head, and you gasped, hiding your face in the fur of his chest, letting his arms wrap around you protectively. 

“I’ll stay right here, birdie. As long as you want me to.”

“Aye,” Soap’s voice spoke up in the darkness, deep and low, “We all will. Tha’s a promise, lass.”

One by one, each of your men came back into the bed, laying their heavy arms over you and each other, bodies and limbs tangled and gripping at whatever flesh they could find. 

You felt Ghost’s hand slide over your hip, resting his hand on your belly protectively. Gaz leaned over Price to kiss you before settling his arm over the captain’s ribs, his arm cradling your arm as you cuddled with John. Soap’s feet were wrapped around yours, keeping them warm. 

As he hardened inside of you, John kissed your forehead softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, John.”

A part of you was still upset at how heavy-handed they had been with your independence, but you felt your smooth muscles fluttering against John’s cock, and it was getting harder and harder to hold onto the anger that you so desperately wanted to let go of. 

As they all settled in to sleep, you decided to try and rekindle the bond that had been broken. You rocked your hips forward, sliding your slick body up and down Price’s fat length. His eyes shot open, burning into you with a dark passion.

“Little bird?”

Your lips found his neck, trailing wet kisses up to his earlobe, taking it in your mouth and suckling at his skin. 

“Not tired, love?” Simon asked, planting his own kisses on your shoulder blades, coaxing your hips to rock back and forth, chasing your high. 

“You need us, innit tha’ right, lass?” Johnny’s fingers reached over your hip, following Simon’s and then trailed down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, tight circles around it, making you soften around Price like an opening bud, petting your petals until you practically unfurled for him. 

“Ungh, Garrick. What are you… “ Price growled through gritted teeth. 

You watched as Kyle licked his hand and tucked it behind John’s back, heading for his tight asshole, fucking him gently on his fingers. 

“Keep fucking our girl, Cap. She needs you,” Kyle told him, “I’ll take care of you, sir.”

“I’m not as patient as the sergeant is, lover,” Simon rustled under the sheets to find his cock, and he held it in his fist, pumping it against your plump ass cheek, “Will you let me in?”

You turned over your shoulder and let him kiss you, feeling his soft lips slide against yours, giving him your tongue to suck on as his hands kneaded your sensitive breast. 

“Yes, Si,” you whispered, “Anything you want.”

You thought his reaction to your words was a little over the top, but Ghost was reacting to Soap, ducked below the sheets, eating his asshole, shoving his tongue deep in the tight opening, prepping him for more. 

Simon tucked his cock between your legs, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on you and himself, lubing you up in a messy, frantic sort of way, too desperate to care about finding a bottle of gel somewhere in the room. 

Johnny was already rutting into his lieutenant, making Simon’s cock leak and jump, excited and drooling for its own warm hole. When you felt his head touch your asshole, you sighed at the tingling electricity building there, eager to be stretched by him. Finally, he popped into your ass, and he began to fuck himself up into you, inch by inch, filling you up. 

Price was grinding his fat dick inside of you, and he groaned when he felt Simon join him on the other side, making you even tighter, forcing the captain to struggle to fit. 

Soon, all five of you were fucking each other at the same time, moaning and kissing and licking one another’s skin, twisted together in a wet mess, and you had never felt such pleasure before. It was as if you were all on the edge, ready to come at the faintest breath of an orgasm, waiting for the spark to ignite the whole room into an explosion of ecstacy. 

“Mmf-fuck!” Simon’s hand wrapped itself around your neck, “Your fuckin’ arsehole feels like heaven, love.”

“Dinnae stop, Si. I can feel when you bottom out in her. Makes you so tight, mate,” Johnny begged him, pinching the lieutenant’s nipples between his fingers over and over, teasing him relentlessly. 

“You alright, little bird?” John asked you, kissing you softly, barely dragging his lips across yours, dreamily moving against you harder and harder, chasing his pleasure, “Fuckin’ Garrick is takin’ away my stamina every time he rams into me like that. Gonna make me come too quick, Gaz.”

“Sorry, sir,” Kyle smiled, giving you a wink, as he licked and nipped at the same earlobe that you had, remembering how much he loved that spot, “Feels too good to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around John’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, “Don’t ever stop.”

While you wait for the next chapter, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

[legionofpotatoes]

Here's a second N7 Day surprise, thanks yet again to @swaps55 - we added Eden Prime to our lineup of Mass Effect destinations! I don't think I need to explain the profound importance of this one; the moment I laid eyes on a gas bag I knew I would pay respect to it in art form one day. Was just a matter of time and sufficient accumulation of skill. But we finally did it, folks.

As an added bonus, we helped tease the final piece to today's treasure hunt for Mass Effect's newest reveal over on the dreaded bird website. Caused quite the hubbub but was certainly a fun time!

[evilminji]

Can Danny see the Forbidden Shrimp Colors?

Like, as Phantom.

Because his eyes are goo.

They are not ACTUALLY human eyes with human limitations, nor possess human eye rods and cones etc. They are human SHAPED Ectoplasmic goo. That is working as the "Eye sight" area of his goo body. Honestly, it's the same question with his hearing etc. But SPECIFICALLY?

Does he get? Some sort of FULL spectrum sight?

Do ghosts and ghosts ALONE... see the world as it ACTUALLY is? Actually, genuinely, looks like? I know humans can tell apart more shade of green then most if not all other species. And a host of other things. But other animals have specialized sight too.

Do ghosts just get? All of it? Because that's just... Sight.

They no longer NEED specialized this or that, to hunt for food or escape predators. Their bodies are no longer bound by species specific limitations. Unless they, you know, felt like it.

Just?

Imagine what that must be LIKE? You transform and the world transforms with you. Everything becoming technicolor. BEYOND color. Depth and complexity, shades you don't have names for. The sky, the grass, trees and the BIRDS in them. All completely different.

An ocean of Shades, peacefully wandering along. Never destined to become Ghosts. Heading towards this afterlife or that. Some just sitting and watching the birds. Not even from just humans. The ground is covered by the Shades of plants long past. There are birds long gone floating along, off to some bird afterlife.

You can't even touch them.

They're like mist. Visible, but as solid as water vapor and reflecting light. They disappear when you transform back.

You can SEE more of space, of the atmosphere and the magnetic fields, of the folds of reality itself, then you ever thought were possible. You'll NEVER be able to put a name to even a fraction of the colors or shades. It's beautiful. Dances.

It's also gone when you transform back.

You won't be able to hear it anymore either. Or any other song and sound that rings out. That hums and buzzes, rumbles and croons. It will feel like climbing back inside a box too small for you and shutting the lid. Right up until it doesn't. Because the brain is a powerful thing, and you always seem to forget, how MUCH everything is.

Because you'd be unable to take it, if you couldn't let it go. If you couldn't keep forgetting. If being human didn't fit.

But it's cool.

You can see shrimp colors.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Favourite Place (Aside From Your Side)

König grew up in a small, rural Austrian village. It intersected with a large, rolling forest that spread for miles. As a little boy, he'd spend his time walking along trails, following his Mama and Papa and his three older siblings through the woods. Later, when he was a teen and he couldn't stand the world, he went hiking on his own.

He found solace in the pines. The great oaks were family to him. Moss and ferns became his pillows when he rested. He would find delicate wildflowers and take pictures with his Papa's old camera and develop them at a local shop, then proudly show his siblings. His favourite spots were the places where the forest gave way to a clearing, and he could look up and see the clouds gently wafting by in the sky. Nature is what keeps him human.

More below the cut:

In the forest, you can expect what threats you'll come across. He'll never forget the day he encountered a mother bear and her cub. He won't lie to you, he pissed himself a little bit, but he thanks the heavens he's alive today. But, if you keep your distance and watch, nature is welcoming. It's beautiful, and it won't hurt you the way humans do. It will test you, it will change you and it will tear you apart, but it will put you back together again afterwards. Nature is a beautiful beast to be respected. König will always firmly believe that animals are better than humans.

With his older brother Friedriech, they'd go hunting with their uncle and Opa. They taught him to hunt carefully, treat the woods with respect. Every animal you catch is a gift from nature to be revered. They were careful to try to not kill mothers or babies, as they were the future of the forest. When they did get a good catch, he learned to use every part of the animals he caught.

Being so in tune with nature, König became a natural survivalist. He's made his own shelters out of nothing but scraps before. He can build a nice hut with sticks, grass and leaves. He can survive out there easily, even in the cold. It's harder in the cold, yes, but he can endure it. His affinity for nature and survivalist training is part of what made König a natural Jagkommando. Others in the program learned to get close to him, and it's through this that König made his very first friends. If you treat nature well, it will reward you handsomely.

Nature is home for König in a way that no human settlement can replicate. There is no greater comfort than the songs of chaffinches and wood pigeons. He'll tell you that wood pigeons sound like they're always complaining. My toe hurts, Betty. My toe hurts, Betty! That's what he'll tell you they sound like if you ever ask him what bird is calling. Heck, he can list off all the most common birds around his little village. He'll tell you how he would raise abandoned nestlings with his Mama in shoe boxes before letting them go back to the wild.

If you let him, he'll turn over stones (only briefly) to show you the world underneath the forest floor. Under the leaves and brushes, there is an entire ecosystem in the soil. Just take a look! There's an alpine salamander. Don't touch it, just leave it be. The oils on your hand will clog the airways on his skin. And do you see the little isopods? Look at how silly they are as they scurry away! Best put this rock back and let these under dwellers return to the dark.

When he goes travelling with his company, he'll grab local guide books for birds and animals. He'll tell you he needs to know how to survive if he gets stranded out here, but really, he just likes learning about all the wildlife.

His favourite vacation destination is to just go camping. He already has all the gear, so you might as well tag along. Two heads are better than one, after all. You'll come with him, won't you? It won't be easy, but you'll see a new side to him.

He'll teach you, of course. However, he won't teach you like you're a new recruit or some battle-hardened soldier, he'll teach you like he was taught, back when he was a boy. He'll praise you with laughter and shower you with adoration when you succeed in starting a fire, he'll gently encourage you when you fail to gather enough sticks for a shelter. König will be there for you every step of the way, guiding you with love and affection laced in every word and action he makes. But, on the off-chance you're better than him, he'll love you for it.

If you need a break, he'll happily take over. Please don't feel upset when he can do things better than you can ever hope to, he was raised this way. He won't ever look down on you. Instead, he'll take the time to encourage you. If he needs a break too, he'll happily join you, but not before taking a shower in his rudimentary shower system. Being clean is extremely important in survival situations, actually, little known fact.

You might find you like camping with him. If you don't, he'll be sad, but he won't force you to join him. But please, you have to understand that he needs this to be himself. He needs to be out in nature. He'll go alone if he has to, but please don't take this away from him. He needs this to be there for you. He needs this to work. Without nature, König is a broken man.

[savnofilter]

Fight For It | dabi/t. touya

      Fantasy AU!Dabi x Bounty Hunter![FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, dragon hybrid!dabi, reader’s intentions for “hunting” is nothing but dubious, ego friendly fire, predator vs. prey trope, power play, barely any plot (pwp), anal, double penetration, spanking, corruption kink (?), outdoors sex, strangers -> ?.

COUNT: 4.6k words (40 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [adults masterlists]

A/N: this was originally supposed to be for another character but it very much suited Dabi instead. if you can guess who this was originally for, i'll write you sum neet. 🌚 anywhom, i loveddd writing this. i had to do a lot of work shops as this has been in the vault for years, so hopefully it's readable now LOL. 😭 hope you guys enjoy!

You check your sides and pockets ensuring that everything is ready for your travel.

This time around, dragon shifters were out and about looking for mates which meant this was the perfect time to capture one. You let out an excited breath as you pull on your boots and make your way outside of your home.

As you pass by the people in your town, you are frequently greeted due to your known status in the town. Most people jumped at the chance to have a conversation with you as there was no guarantee the next time they could. However as you got closer to the edge of the woods, the greetings slowed to a halt as the count of people started to wither out, most people avoiding the edges of the village near the forest-filled mountains. You adjust the final strap on your bag as the destination you were looking for comes into view.

Keeping an eye out for any signs of dragon shifter life, you look around the sparse but large trees that decorate the place. Many bushes, trees, and even small ponds adorned the scenery. If you happen to look close enough you could find flowers almost everywhere accompanying the organisms. Dirt and soil were also as common to come across, more so than grass in the dense part of the forest. Despite that, you continue on your quest to obtain your own little dragon. Your eyes light up as you near the bottom of the mountains and see a bigger-than-usual footstep on the floor. As if you are in no rush, you pause for a moment to squat down and pinch the dirt, fingers thumbing the soil between your forefinger and thumb before dusting it off on your pants.

One is near.

The footprint imprinted into the ground was still very fresh, the consistency too easy to grab and toy with. Surveying the scene your eyes try to find any change within the area, the need for staying on your p’s and q’s is greater than ever. You were trying to gauge what your next move should be and your indecisiveness slowing you down. You chew the inside of your lip as you start to survey the scene one last time before choosing to continue on your journey for the beast you were searching for.

Thankfully, the hybrid you were trying to find had left its footprints freely, but his marking already too cocky for your liking. Amid your busy thinking, you hear scurrying in the distance, the sound quick and heavy. You immediately whip your head around to the sound of the commotion, your hand hovering on the tip of your sword’s handle as you brace yourself for any imminent conflict. As you inch closer to the ominous spot behind the dense trees, the same noise happens in the opposite direction to the right of you. You swiftly unwield your sword and dart it towards the rapid movement, the sharp blade releasing a sharp and heavy, ‘THUNK’ as it sinks its metal into the wood.

Birds rapidly fly away in fear and other smaller animals in hiding run away in the opposite direction hoping to avoid the building tension within the vicinity. The sight of tiny strands of fur and a red liquid left swiftly in the breeze makes you wince in sympathy; accidentally hurting an unattended target was certainly not on your to-do list today. Your body is still on high alert--chest heaving as small beads of sweat accumulate on your temples, your nerves keeping you in a tense state. But unlike your anxious mood irritating you, your target was the complete opposite.

A low rumble of laughter that turns into a boisterous level prompts you to turn around and narrow your eyes at the location of the sound, eyes catching a white-haired male. You were gearing up to tell the male to fuck off before the realization hits you. The sharp teeth, horns, broad back, wild clothes -- this was the dragon you were trying to find. You watched him cautiously, keeping your eye on him as you retrieved your weapon, keeping on guard.

He lets out a few more chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender as he watches you point your sword toward him. “Hey no need to get defensive,” he pauses, his grin turning from playful to sly. “You humans aren’t the best at catching us most of the time.”

His words make you huff, your other hand locking on the rope that was on your hip. The white-haired male blows out a whistle, watching as your arm flexes with strong muscles and places his hands on his hips as he scans your body. You raise your brow, sheathing your sword away and revealing a grin of your own. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side lean forward interest for the conceited specimen.

“I always catch my prey. What makes you think I won’t this time?” You respond, your words cocky, a little too much for his liking at that. His nose flares at you, back straightening before his irises narrow before he scoffs lightly.

The male’s cerulean eyes dim as they watch you intently, unashamedly checking out your frame. Your nostrils flare in anger and slowly draw your sword as a warning, a playful whistle following your threatening posture. The white-haired dragon-man takes a step closer to you, his gaze not missing you step back and cower only just slightly in your stance.

He huffs, “You could barely kill that bunny.”

“I could if I wanted to,” You’re quick to retort, your body now trying to regain its firm stance, chin raising as you openly detested him. “Just like I could have your head by tomorrow if needed.”

The same laugh that first gained your attention makes a comeback, his sharp teeth on proud display as he takes this exchange as nothing more than some flirtatious banter. “How about the next time we meet, you can attempt to catch me -- and if you do, I’ll do whatever you want. Vice versa.” He holds his hand out for you to take as a sign of agreement.

You watch his large hand out stretch itself to you, a taunting offer that a part of you couldn’t proudly admit that you wanted to take. His palm is upturned in a way that teased innocent compliance, the callous on his skin showing he isn't as playful as one would think and there's no missing the sharp nails that peek from under fingertips. With a small huff, your hand relaxes from the top of the sword and you close the distance between you two, shaking his hand firmly.

“The name’s Dabi by the way.” A surprised yelp escapes your lips as he tugs you much closer than needed, you two chest-to-chest as he stares intently into your E/C eyes. “Don’t be too disappointed when you lose, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen as he says your name, the action doing its job spooking you. You rip your hand away from his with a bit of a fight, not sure what you just have gotten yourself into. You snarl as you step back to regain the space between you two, except you made no move to be on the offense.

“Do yourself a favor and don’t hold back.” Dabi taunts, his grin matching his arrogant expression.

“Don’t plan on it.” You snort giving him one last look over as he retreats from the trees, your gaze never leaving that spot until you’re sure he’s gone. You turn around and pursue your way back to town, unbeknownst to you the pair of cerulean eyes that continued to watch your body retreat in pure animalistic hunger for you.

                     — ✮ ★ ☆ —

Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you tirelessly think about the interaction with the arrogant male from last afternoon.

Despite being one of the most known bounty catchers in the world, the way that he—Dabi as he preferred to be called—carried himself, was in a way that left curiosity and a bit of attraction on your end. You hated the way that your chest races with excitement but then glower at the thought of him. Too many conflicting emotions plagued your psyche and you needed to end this once and for all.

The air was crisp whilst the white clouds in the sky rivaled the short puffs of air you breathed out every once in a while if you held your breath in for too long. Climbing back up the same mountain wasn’t as easy as it was yesterday with the added titillation making it feel as though your heart was about to burst out of your chest. At this point, you were starting to wonder what you truly wanted from this outcome.

‘victory. this isn’t the first attractive specimen you’ll find, and it won’t be your last.’

You thought to yourself and sigh with indignation. The designated spot was already in eyeshot and you needed to get into gear if you wanted to walk out of this with your proper title over him as his owner. Absentmindedly your hand skims over the healing wound of the tree you had accidentally sliced when you had gotten startled yester-yonder, the heavy and big footprints in the soil showing that he as well made his way over not long before you.

Movement just shy to your left has you turning in its direction, this only meaning one thing: Dabi was here.

Dabi sat minding his business, humming as he watched his surroundings and toyed with the dirt in front of him mindlessly. You unsheath your sword, adrenaline making your hands lightly tremble in excitement. You adjust the sword easily in your hand moving to swing for the kill. Subtle movement catches the corner of your eyes, the focus of your target just slipping. Before it could happen, you reel back and lunge your sword towards the correct target only to softly gasp as he's gone.

You pull your sword back with the rope that’s attached to the handle, the weapon tight in your grip as you look around closely as you make eye contact with his now familiar cerulean-blue eyes making you attack once again. It wasn’t until your second failed attempt that he started laughing at you. Just like the first time you met. You growl out in frustration, trying to find him again. You try following the laugh as you messily turn around, the uncoordinated movement making you trip over your own feet but you quickly catch yourself.

‘i bet he’s just scared! he knows that you’d just capture him and make him yours.’ you completely lie to yourself to help soothe your nerves. Even you didn't believe it and now you were starting to get more than anxious.

“Damn it! Come out and stop playing!” You yell out, rage starting to finally consume you. You kept your sword up, turning sharply at the sound of crunching behind you and was met with him not too far away from you.

His handsome face was serious, arms crossed as he watched down at you unimpressed and unmoving. You feel yourself wanting to shy away from his intimidating gaze, but remember to hold up your guard. Never had you experienced a dragon that fought back like this and it honestly had you on edge.

“You’re off your game,” The dragon grins as he steps closer towards you. You tilt your chin down as you cowardly gulp in defiance, your feet taking a step back as you try to gain more distance between you two. Unfortunately for you, fighting in the woods meant you would be caged in, just like now as he closed in on you as your back hit the large oak tree behind you.

“I can still kill you if I please.” You sneer, holding up the sharp tip of your sword to his chest, eyes boring into his. Even with your strong stance and unwavering eyes, there was no denying the slight waver in your voice as you said it.

Shit.

The dragon laughs at your pathetic threat, his body language as genuine as his prideful body language. He offers you no answer as he finds no reason to entertain it. Anger shoots through your body at his arrogance, your body shifting as much as it can to pull your arm back to aim straight for his heart, wanting nothing else but to draw blood from him right in this instant.

Your sense of urgency is what fumbles your opportunity, your attack seized as though he had seen it a mile away.

With a piercing grip, he snatches your hand as you attempt to stab him in the chest, his deft fingers squeezing your wrist in a painful grip. A cry leaves your lips as you try to keep steady, your other hand grabbing him to let go as if his life wasn’t on the line.

“Let go!” You yell at him, stubborn tears now starting to prick at your eyes. It was pitiful in the way you resorted to this as your backup plan, your behavior a clear indication that you had no idea what to do. You had walked into this duel with nothing but adrenaline, curiosity, arousal, and arrogance. Instead of conducting yourself as a seasoned veteran, you were presenting yourself as a spoiled brat. Dabi ignores your plea as he takes your fighting hand and pins it firmly against the rough tree bark behind you, the rough texture digging into your clothes and skin. You bite your lip harshly to at least spare yourself some dignity, not wanting to let the smallest amount of pain get to you.

Your hand twitches in his hold as your other goes towards the direction of your thigh and grab a small knife from its holster before promptly slicing his arm. Dabi looks down at you and scoffs as he barely observes the wound before easily gripping your free wrist once again. You let out a silent cry of protest as now both hands are caught in his stronghold.

“You think that was enough to stop me? You’ve already failed, human.” He leans down to speak in your ear, his strong voice rattling through your body making you shiver. He maneuvers his hold on your wrists so that they are caught in one hand, the other moving to grip your side before running lower and rounding your back.

You glare at him and start to struggle against his hold, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you wanted him to touch more of you. He chuckles at your sounds of distaste, promising that you’d be dead if he moved any further. He bites down on the exposed part of your neck making you moan in pain and a deep blush adorn your cheeks. His slivering hand finally grabs your ass and pulls your body closer to his. He pulls away from your neck to give himself enough room to lick up the blood that was dripping from his bite. “You’re all mine.”

Without much fight from you, he leans in and presses a harsh kiss against your lips, an all-engulfing force that has you reeling in need. You groan as your head is pushed back against the tree, your pair of lips fighting against his in an attempt to gain back the confidence you had from when you two first met. The mix of the coppery taste of your blood on your tongue adds a toxic aphrodisiac you can't place your finger on, wanting to taste more of yourself on his tongue in other ways. Your eyes lid as you two maintain eye contact through the kiss, the heat between you two ramping up as both of you have something to prove.

“Still tryna win, human? Are you gonna do whatever I tell you to?” Dabi ridicules you once he pulls away and tightly grips your jaw. The force makes your cheeks squish while your bruised lips pout. He leans in to press his lips against yours again as an open mouth kiss, his tongue invading your hot cavern and playing with your tongue. You moan into his handling, your wet muscle barely managing to put up a fight. You helplessly try to chase his lips when he pulls away, the action making him chuckle. “Turn around.”

He lets go of your hands as he allows you to move and notes the way that you slightly flinch from the harsh pressure suddenly being released. Though you quickly shrug it off, more than willing to turn around like the slut that you are. Grinning at your desperation he steps away from you to allow room to turn you around, and seizes your hands in his hold except this time behind your back when you’ve assumed the position. Dabi bends you over some and admires your curves finally up close and freely gropes at your ass. It’s shameful in the way that feeling his calloused hand grope and rub at your globes has you pressing against him, your needy action eliciting a spank from him. You whine out his name as he pulls down your pants, your juices darkening the material between your legs.

“Do you normally act this needy when you lose, hm?”

SMACK, another spank was delivered to your bum. Your eyes roll back when he gives you another and a harsher one to follow until you respond.

Your eyes prick as he taunts you, your legs trembling in need. Contrary to your own knowledge, Dabi was perfectly aware of your track record with beasts. To humans and other “dainty” species, you were known for your combat and prowess but amongst the more gritty creatures have shared more than a few whispers about your sexual endeavors. You turn your head and glare at him, tears and all as blood rushes to the skin of your bruising ass and flustered skin. Just as you were one not to lie, you deflect the implications of your winning and losing rate. “Do you normally take this long to fuck?”

SMACK.

Instead of his hand holding your hands above your head, he lets them go and lets you catch yourself against the uncomfortable tree. With one hand now placed on the side of your head, he holds you in place as he tugged down your underwear, no longer wanting to toy with what he desperately needed to claim as his. “I’m the one who won, remember?” Dabi growls as he grows impatient with your bitching, his hot hand reaching down to cup our sex and letting his two fingers rub at the sensitive nub at the top of your cunt.

The smell of your arousal was taunting him heavily. Dabi had never considered a human as his first option to fuck but you were bringing out a new side to him. The sickening thought alone made him grow impatient as he was more than ready to defile your cute body. Most humans don't fuck back, but you certainly looked like the type and that thought alone was riling him up. Evidently just from the way you were acting, you couldn't help yourself grinding back against him like that. At first glance you seemed like some brute snob, untouched and pompish. But here you were already gong-ho over some dragon dick you have yet to experience; acting so desperate and needy for him. His lips curve into a devilish grin as he marvels at the way your back arches as the arousal gets to you.

“Fuck, Dabi please.” You plead shamelessly as he slips his fingers up and down your folds to collect your slick, helping lube up your opening for his cock. He spits on his fingers to make it more slippery, not wanting to rush the prep as much as he'd love to have your pussy engulf his cock. He shushes you as he leaves his grip on your head to grab your jaw, making you look at him as he rubs at your cunt.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me prep you, pet.” He emphasizes his point by teasing at your opening with the tip of his finger then sinking his middle finger into your cunt. His cock twitches at the sensation of your gummy walls squeezing around the digit as strokes the inside of your kitty carefully. He groans and leans back to look at your pussy enveloping his finger, eyes happily drinking in what he’s seeing. “Knew this pussy was hungry for this.”

Your pants are heavy, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers as he continues to work it in and out of your dripping cunt. Dabi made sure to keep his hold on your jaw tight while his other got to work which allows you to brace your hands against the trunk of the tree with your hands now free. His thrusting stops to rub the outside of your lips, spreading your natural juices as lubricant and periodically brushing against your clit before his fingers are fucking themselves into you again. Your face was covered in bruises to some degree as you couldn’t help but keep your face against the tree bark -- not that you could care less, though. A wanton whimper leaves your lips feeling his hand completely leave your opening, making way to release himself from his pants.

He uses the slick from your wet cunt to help lubricate his lengths. He prods the first against your opening and groans lowly from how different the fit of your human pussy compared to other dragons. You felt your eyes burn with tears, his size bigger than you’re used to. You squirm against him only for him to command you to calm down. He spits another time as he works his hips into yours to open you up better, the action working as you produce more slick and loosen up as the moments pass. You feel his finger mix the spit and slick on your asshole, not shying away from playing with your chocolate starfish. He slips in his thumb to tease your opening, the play not phasing you one bit. It wasn't until you feel his finger enter you followed by experimental strokes is when you notice what's up. You suck in your breath, tensing up completely when his finger exits only to feel another head prod at your asshole.

You gasp from the intrusion of his second cock entering you. Your nails dig into the tree and you're consequently returned the favor as your hands sting from gripping onto it for dear life. You had never taken anything of his size in that entrance and you could tell he was enjoying the squeeze by how much he was throbbing in you. He breathes out curses into your neck, reminding you of your place and how tight you wrapped around him. Never had Dabi contemplated wanting to mate a human until now, the feeling like nothing he had felt before.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck.” Heavy and sloppy thrusts are met against your ass. The way of his thrusting signifies the animalistic side of him, the easing of his cock into you was nothing short of barbaric and drowning in pure pleasure. As he worked his hips better into yours.

It felt as though he was already accustomed to you and you loved it. The length and girth of his cock was filling a void you didn’t know you needed, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to come back from it.

“How’s it feel to be fucked by a dragon, heh,” The dragon huffs out and works more of his length into your battered pussy and ass. Your sopping cunt and tight ass was starting to take his cock easier and easier the more he fucked you. His hands bored from only holding you in place soon move to tug up your shirt and grope at your tits, hands roughly fondling your mounds as if he had no rhyme or reason.

“Da… Dabi..!” You moan out, ass and pussy still clenching tight around him. He moans enjoying how you say his name before HISSing at the fact you were almost squeezing him too tight. Dabi refused to take his eyes off the area where your bodies joined, deeply engrossed by the way his cocks disappears to the hilt as he fucked your tight holes.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight little pet!” He exclaims excitedly, teeth to mark up your neck once again. Dabi hums in delight, hands roughly kneading your breasts. He tugs on your nipples craving the thought of wanting to know what your nipples would taste like against his tongue. Or even if he did so choose to breed you, how full, plump and ready you’d look -- all just for him.

Your vision blurs as the only thing on your mind is to relish in the pleasure you were receiving, hips riding back against his as you chase your climax. You were nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, not giving shit about him either. The all-consuming experience was successfully eating you up and you loved every second of it. If it meant being “his” pet, then so be it.

When he hits a certain angle in your holes, you shake as ecstasy shoots through our body. Your already breathier sighs and moans from your stolen breath now deepens into loud and sluttier sounds, your orgasm finally imminent. You start to babble not wanting nothing more than to finish on this dragon’s cocks.

“Please, please, Dabi-” You mewl. “Cum, need it.” You whine as you feel the familiar coil in your stomach tighten, the slick running down your thighs aiding in the ability of letting him thrust within you.

Dabi shushes you as he grabs both of your elbows and holds you up himself. He uses you like a pussy pocket as he starts to chase his release as well, needing to finish inside you just as much as you wanted to finish on his cocks. “Gonna breed you, s’that what you want, pet? Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck I need you to cum in me..!” You moan out, feeling your stomach coil to signify the impending orgasm that is about to hit you. Without needing any further excuse he grips your arms impossibly tight as he pummels into you, his hips bruising your backside as he drives you over the edge.

With a final thrust, he bottoms out inside you, relishing in the feeling of emptying his semen. A deep growl reverberates in Dabi’s chest as he finishes, his muscles only relaxing when he starts to empty. He holds you in place as you have no other choice but to take his stuffing, the amount so copious it starts to spill from your openings.

Dabi slowly lets you go as he pulls out, cocks flaccid and messy. He bends you over to look at your creampied holes, hands spreading your cheeks to get an unobstructed view of it. He gives your pained cheek an appreciative smack, snorting when you groan in pain at the feeling. The dragon stands back up and yanks at your hair, the unnecessary action making you whip your head around to glare at him, only to be met with a proud grin with his sharp teeth on display.

“You’re mine now, pet.”

all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter, translate or copy this work.

[alexanderwales]

Addendum to the post about Stardew Valley type games:

You know how in games like that, everyone has their set daily routine that changes according to the days of the week, the seasons, etc.?

I think it would be fun to have a game that's just that. You can see what path everyone walks and what they do every day, it's all lines on the ground to you from a bird's eye view: these people are creatures of habit. But their daily routines aren't just something that happens, it's also something that affects them. Bridget spends every day going to stare out at the sea, and it makes her a little bit more sad every day, because it reminds her of her father, who passed away when she was little. Nathan searches for bugs in the woods, hoping that if he gets the right one, he can bring it to show the woman who runs the museum.

So in some sense, this is a train game, but with people instead of trains. Everyone is on their tracks, and possibly there are interrupts to their schedules, but mostly what you're doing is nudging the tracks in various ways and trying to minmax their social interactions and routines.

So if Bridget is staring out at the beach feeling lonely and sad, you can nudge Nathan to go hunt bugs there instead of in the woods, and if you nudge him correctly, he'll end up at the beach at the same time Bridget is doing her mope session. And then, because it would be weird for them to both be at the beach in silence, they get to talking, and their little friendship meter or whatever fills up. And then, at some particular threshold, you get a notification that their routing has changed. The lines on the ground are redrawn, the schedule is updated, and Bridget and Nathan are friends now, and there's no reason for her to be at the beach anymore, because that lonely void has been filled. In the new routing, Nathan and Bridget hunt bugs in the woods together, hoping to find an interesting one but mostly just hanging out.

Your goal is to make everyone as happy as you can.

There's a lot that I'm still trying to work out here, I had the idea five minutes ago. For one thing, I'm not sure how the player should actually go about adjusting the routes. I guess I'm envisioning it like what Google Maps shows you, where you have multiple routes and can select different ones. Or maybe there's an option to change the destination sometimes, if it's one where the actual location doesn't matter. Kids will always have to go to school, but their mother has a choice of different part-time jobs so long as she's making a little extra income, so you can route her to either the doctor's office where she'll be a receptionist or to the mayor's house where she'll clean up. Some routes are therefore locked down hard for various reasons, while others are more flexible. And as the game goes on, which is which will change: someone who sort of didn't care where he was whiling away his time will get a job that's very important to him, two lovebirds will want to spend all their time together, but the carpenter divorces his wife and suddenly has a lot of free time on his hands, or the electrician finally finishes fixing the lighthouse and now is just sort of waiting on orders.

The other major question is how much we're exposing to the player in terms of the whys of our little train-schedule people. I think trying to do this with any more text than a handful of cutscenes would be a fool's errand, and instead you'd want to abstract it out as much as possible. Characters would have Motivations, Goals, Tasks they're making progress on each day, Friendships, Romances, and in general you should be able to look at their route and say "okay, this is motivated by this, this is motivated by that". I think Friendship Points are a kind of ridiculous concept, but they would work here, with each "stop" on the route adjusting friendships and romances up or down on the scale. Tasks gain some completion with every route completion, which is another way the game progresses forward.

The last major question is ... how do you build this? How do you create a town of thirty or so people with their own individual routes in such a way that a player can figure things out and be satisfied with each small solution? Because this is sort of a puzzle game, and as laid out here, it's the same "board" the whole way through, with everything interlocking. I think maybe you could map out the early game pretty easily, solve some trivial problems with a bit of extra routing, have everything else "locked" and unknown to limit scope, but I'm unsure how you advance past that.

Perhaps there's a version of this game where everyone has their routes but we're only looking at tiny slices of the whole town at a time, two or three routes that we can figure out. Maybe there's a man who doesn't care what his job is, so we make him the teacher, which frees up a woman to take a different job she loves, which means that she winds up in the gardens after work and meets a gardener we diverted there, and together they start a pottery club, which becomes a new event that people can be diverted to.

And at the end of the game, everyone is in the job they're best suited for, you've made people couple up, you've fixed all the problems, and the little clockwork town is humming along.

[knightmareaceblue]

The Amazonian Amethyst.

Since being stolen from its rightful owners by the tyrannical Queen Empress, no one has seen this legendary gemstone. Rumor has it that the Amethyst, like many lost treasures, was taken by the Queen Empress to her tomb, the Red Pyramid, from which no one had ever returned alive.

It'd make the perfect anniversary gift. When Charles of all people presents this plan to his partners, Henry and Ellie are completely on board. An anniversary adventure suits the Triple Threat more than some dinner date, anyways.

And nothing could possibly go wrong… right?

--------------------

Deep in the heart of an ancient jungle, far away from the modern comforts and conveniences of the human world, all was calm. The animals scurried and scattered about, out to hunt or gather for their next meal. The roaring rapids of a nearby river echoed through the tangle of trees, calling to creatures near and far to take their fair share of its fresh water and plump schools of fish. The songs of birds in the upper canopy competing to attract a mate completed the natural soundtrack of this ancient, majestic place.

Then, quite suddenly, the sharp mechanical buzzing of helicopter blades sliced through the melody of environment, causing the animals to scatter in fear of this strange new sound. At least one thousand feet above these scared grounds, three people, oblivious to their disruption, chattered excitedly amongst themselves.

“Man, doesn’t this bring you back?” Spoke the sole female of the group, a red-head named Ellie, who stared out at the jungle with a fond smile, her eyes soft with nostalgia. “Our first mission as the Triple Threat, flying over the Dogobogo Jungle to mess up the Toppat Clan’s day and send their rocket flying off into the sun.”

“Well, actually, Hen sent it to the Wall? But, you know, close enough.” Responded the pilot, one Mister Charles Calvin, who glanced back at her for only the briefest of moments before returning his focus to the wheel. His eyes scanned the canopy, searching for their destination, and a wide grin stretched across his face when he finally found it. “Whoa! Guys, you gotta check this out!!”

Henry, the final and most quiet member of the trio, raced over to Charles’ side first, Ellie hot on their trail. Their crimson eyes scanned the horizon, until they widened when they landed on the group’s destination: a gigantic pyramid, covered from top to bottom in green foliage as nature fought to overtake the ancient structure.

“There she is.” Ellie murmured, entranced by the sight, “The Imperial Tomb of the Queen Empress.”

“Exactly where my contact said it would be.” Declared the pilot, flicking switches and checking gauges as he prepared to descend. “According to him, the Amazonian Amethyst should be buried inside, along with the Empress. But everyone who’s ever gone searching for the tomb’s hidden treasure has mysteriously vanished~” The change of tone from Charles was accompanied by an amused smirk, almost as if daring fate to try and do the same to them. “So no one’s ever found the amethyst hidden inside. Which means it’s all ours for the taking.”

With a sharp squeal, Henry’s arms wrapped tightly around Charles’ shoulders, and they nuzzled their head into the side of Charles’. “This is the best anniversary gift ever.” Henry declared, and Charles felt his heart flutter.

When accepting the Airship mission so long ago, Charles hadn’t expected to fall in love with a criminal mastermind, let alone two of them. But exactly one year ago today, under the gentle light of the moon, Henry had taken both their hands and proclaimed their love to the heavens. The year that had followed had been the adventure of a lifetime; it hadn’t been without its challenges, but ultimately Charles had never been happier. The two standing behind him were his heart and soul made manifest. Of that, Charles was certain.

Of course, Charles’ love didn’t equate to ignorance of who, exactly, he was dating. By the time the government had picked them up for the Airship mission, Henry had become somewhat infamous for their prison break and theft of the Tunisian Diamond, and Ellie was in a similar position, living an outlaw’s life for various crimes she’d committed with a previous gang. And while they’d turned over a new leaf, partially for the benefits but mostly for Charles, it was clear that the transition to a clean cut lifestyle was… difficult, to say the least.

Thankfully the majority of what they craved, the action and adventure and excitement, was quelled by the missions they went on to save the world from whatever bad guy of the week dared to think they could stand up to the Triple Threat. However, the other addictive quality of their criminal lives – the material gains, the glitz and glamour of wealth that people like them could only get through illicit activities – that was another story entirely. Charles couldn’t count the number of times he’d had to drag Henry away from a display of shiny jewelry, or watch Ellie gaze longingly at the security trucks stores used to transport cash. He knew the two of them would never go behind his back to return to their old ways – he trusted them. But it was obvious even to him that they still missed it.

So, when their anniversary began to approach, Charles devised a plan. He’d preemptively gotten them a full two week’s vacation, scoured the dredges of the library and uncovered a lost treasure: The Amazonian Amethyst. A rare, large, and highly valuable purple gemstone that was said to have been stolen from its rightful owners by the very Queen Empress who was buried below them. She had taken many treasures with her to the grave, and for their anniversary, Charles had made all the arrangements necessary for them to go hunt it down. He’d rented a non-government helicopter (none of the bells and whistles he was used to, but the leather seats were a hell of a lot more comfortable than the ones from his usual bird), made sure they had all their paperwork and supplies, and took his two loves deep into the heart of the jungle on a death defying adventure to technically-not-steal a large amethyst from a long dead tyrant.

Maybe not entirely on the up and up, as far as legality went, but seeing the looks on Henry and Ellie’s faces when he told them his plan was totally worth the huge risk.

As their helicopter descended, Ellie scurried about, grabbing any last minute supplies she could get her hands on and tossing them into her personal inventory for later use. Simultaneously, Henry yanked open the door to the helicopter and hopped out as it landed, surveying the area with experienced precision. A practiced hand signal alerted their partners that the coast was clear, and Charles and Ellie soon hopped out after them. Inventories fully equipped, limbs stretched, and helicopter secured, the infamous Triple Threat made their way into the maw of the pyramid, eagerly chasing the adventure it promised.

Behind them, the song of the jungle stilled too suddenly, leaving only the increasingly loud crunch, crunch, crunch of plants being crushed.

--------------------

“Yo, check this place out!” Charles exclaimed as the trio stepped into the main hall. The smile on his face stretched from ear to ear, and Henry could practically see the stars in his eyes as he shook his fists in excitement.

Not that Henry could fault his sunshiny enthusiasm. The main hall was adorned with very ornate murals, each one portraying the Queen Empress throughout her life. From her miraculous birth, with light shining down on her from the heavens; to her childhood of objectively being better than everyone; to the worship of her citizens, despite the blood lust that lead her to raid and pillage and steal from weaker kingdoms near and far. The blatant narcissism on display was staggering. The shiny gems that were used in place of her pupils, however, made Henry’s fingers twitch.

Of course, they wouldn’t settle for those little pebbles. Charles had picked a gem especially for them. Henry was going to get their hands on it if it killed them.

“According to the notes from the last expedition…” Ellie flipped through her notebook pages casually, even as she sidled up to one of the murals and plucked out a shiny blue stone. Unlike Henry, she didn’t mind easy pickings. “In the 1950s, geez… this first area is relatively safe. It’s where the Queen’s followers were expected to bring offerings of food and drink to their Eternal Queen.” Ellie’s eyes, full and bright like the full moon, scanned over the entire room. “Given how open this place was, though, it was probably all eaten by animals.”

Henry openly scoffed. “Wanna bet the people in charge used the missing food as ‘proof’ that the Empress really was there?”

In response, Ellie only shook her head. The trio walked along, making light conversation up until they reached the end of the hallway. The doorway between the Offerings Hall and the rest of the tomb contained a final masterpiece: the Queen Empress, in all her regal glory, being called into heaven by the gods themselves in the same radiant light that had shone upon her at birth. It’d be poetic, if Henry didn’t find it so nauseatingly self-serving. Whoever the woman was, she tried incredibly too hard to portray herself as a literal gift from the gods.

More importantly, the entrance to the tomb was stuck shut. “Notes said it was sealed after the last expedition,” Ellie explained, shutting the book in her hands. “Probably so no more idiots would get themselves killed trying to get that big treasure.”

“Well, they clearly hadn’t counted on these idiots!” Charles proclaimed, pulling the two of them close so he could point his fingers down at the trio, as if that was supposed to be a compliment. Still, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Idiots though the three may be, this wouldn’t even be close to the toughest thing they’d tackled. The three of them? They got this. First they just had to find a world in which they got this stupid door open.

Should they Force it open? No, that probably wasn’t a good idea. Ellie’s powers were strong, sure, but they could be too strong at times. Using just the right amount of Force would require extreme concentration. Henry could see the future play out before their very eyes; Ellie’s powers would pry the heavy door away from the wall bit by bit, pulling at the melted welding keeping it in place until it finally broke free. They’d celebrate for a moment, just a second, before the door would hit all three of them, knocking them back and out. Apparently, there was such a thing as too much force. Who knew?

So that was a no go.

What about some controlled demolition, then? Somehow that seemed like an even worse idea. They would manage to knock down the wall surrounding the door, sure. It was just a matter of applying enough force to remove the stones. Then the whole ceiling would crash down around their ears, their universe ending in a single cosmic crunch. Of course it would. Henry had the luck of a black cat zooming underneath a row of ladders while crushing mirrors underneath its claws. And besides, it was Remodeling 101: You never destroy a load-baring structure.

“You know, we could always just teleport past it.” Ellie teased with a quirk of her lip. This caused an instinctual full body shutter from Henry at just the thought of that infernal contraption. Though they’d never used the device in their own world line, the aches and pains of its future malfunctions still radiated across their skin, a phantom pain from a wound that never was and always had been.

Future sight was a real bitch sometimes.

With an annoyed pout, they scolded her, “Don’t even joke about that.” Henry could see the amusement on Charles’ face as he joined Ellie with an elbow propped on her shoulder, and tried not to scowl. Ellie and Charles took their concerns seriously – Neither of them had ever doubted their future sight even once– but the two weren’t above teasing their beloved about the borderline paranoid raving they could go on. “In fact, new rule from now on: No more bringing the teleporter. It always backfires.”

“So that means we won’t get to see you make that cute pouty face whenever you pull it out of your bag anymore?” Teased the pilot, a grin as bright as the sun stretching along his face. He didn’t even look a little sad at the idea of Henry no longer being burdened by the infernal plaything of cruel fate that was the Teleporter.

“What a shame.” Ellie joked right alongside him. In terms of acting, she was a little better, in that she managed to look a little disappointed at the thought. But her eyes shone like the moonlight, letting her true feelings be known to those who could read her.

All the annoyance melted away at their expressions, and Henry tried not to let this show as they rolled their eyes and spun around to dig through their inventory. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a moment, I think I have something here… aha!”

Henry triumphantly pulled their prize from their inventory’s storage: a blowtorch, which Henry immediately lit up before their red-headed girlfriend dropped a protective mask down over their face. Pausing only to give her a brief thumbs up before going to town, they traced the outlines of the sealed metal entrance and slowly but surely began to destroy the fused sections between door and wall, allowing for the door to be effortlessly removed. Henry turned around and bowed to their sun and their moon, gesturing dramatically to guide them through the newly created hole in the ruin. Ellie, proper woman that she was, bowed back as she passed, her eyes reflecting the mirth Henry felt. And Charles, ray of sunshine that he was, gentle tapped Henry’s nose with a soft boop before all but skipping through the doorway.

They could be walking into death, sure. After all, no one had seen the interior of the pyramid and survived. Despite these terrible odds, Henry couldn’t help but feel at ease. After all, they were already capable of the impossible alone. With Ellie and Charles by their side, they were all but invincible.

Behind them, an ominous shadow shadow spread across the stone cold floor.

--------------------

The Triple Threat were greeted by a long, long hallway on the other side of the sealed doorway. It stretched onward and onward, shadows obscuring the pathway and all its secrets. The only lights came from the dull blue luminescence of the blue spheres embedded into the walls. There were more murals, Henry was certain, but their pictures were obscured by the darkness the entire corridor was draped in.

A darkness that was suddenly slashed through by a beam of light, courtesy of Charles. Now they could make out the plain, cold stone floor, the elaborate detailing on the wall portraying some myth long since lost to the age, the arches on the ceiling that provided the support needed for the heavy stone structure. There were no traps to be seen; no buttons, no spikes, no glowing eyed accursed beast doomed to wander these twisted hallways forever. It looked perfectly safe.

Naturally, Henry didn’t trust it.

Apparently Charles didn’t share this suspicious sentiment, because with a chipper, “Welp, let’s get moving!” He bound forward a few steps, and Ellie and Henry grabbed him and pulled him back just in time to avoid a long and dangerous drop down a pit of spikes.

“Watch your step, dumbass.” Ellie scolded, her hand tight around Charles’. In the meanwhile, Henry quickly checked him over. They’d been quick enough to catch him in this world (Future sight was a bitch), but better safe than sorry when it comes to mysterious ancient ruins and their many traps. And tetanus.

For his part, Charles seemed more embarrassed than scared. “Whoops.” He chuckled nervously as Ellie and Henry, now that they were done making sure he was really okay, crossed their arms and shot him matching glares, flat and unimpressed. “My bad. Sorry, guys.”

“Sheesh.” Ellie uncrossed her arms. On the outside she looked calm and composed, but Henry knew her well enough to see the slight tension in her face, or the way eyes kept darting to view the area behind Charles, as if expected another trap to jump out of nowhere and blot out the sun. “You’re going to be the death of us, I swear.”

With Charles’ near death experience out of the way, Ellie picked up a small pile of loose stones near the side of the passageway and began tossing them, one after the other. With each stone tossed, a section of the floor collapsed underneath the weight, revealing a pitfall that went down for meters. At the bottom, cascading off the floor, were subtle buttons that could only barely be made out in the dark, and entirely less subtle rows of spikes. A ghastly smell rose as the floor fell: a noxious fume of decay and rot that told them, even before Charles’ torch revealed the scatterings of bones both human and otherwise, the fates of all those whom had entered beforehand. An ominous rattling echoed up through the chamber as the light awoke various species of serpents lying in slumber in between the spikes, scattering quickly to hide around the buttons with their tails resonating dangerous warnings about disturbing them further. As the light continued to travel upward, the trio could make out tiny little holes in the walls, just large enough for any number of potentially poisonous instruments to fly or jut out, all the way from the bottom of the pit to the very top of the ceiling.

Now, if this had just been Henry, then they’d use a grappling hook to fly across the chasm, no problem. Or maybe create a platform with something nearby. But it was more than just Henry they were worried about today, and the ceiling was far too old and decrepit to hold all of them if they swung across. And the ruins were far too precarious to support the weight of three people. They’d collapse into the pit, get impaled on the spikes, and that would be the end of the Triple Threat’s story.

Despite the impending death of their loved ones, it struck Henry as more lame than terrifying.

What Henry forgot, of course, was that they were flanked by two equally competent (and equally crazy) partners, and Charles’ face suddenly lit up as he pushed his two partners behind him. “Don’t worry,” He smirked back at them confidentially, “I got this.”

Ellie and Henry were, naturally, extremely worried.

Without any further warning, Charles bolted forward. Henry’s panicked attempt to grab him and pull him back to safety was narrowly dodged, and Ellie’s call to halt was similarly ignored. Upon reaching the edge of the pit, Charles bent his legs down and sprung over it with an admittedly impressive leap, but one with nowhere near enough force or air to make it to the other side of the hazardous chasm.

Ellie gaped like a fish, her eyes following Charles with all the horror of witnessing an impending wreck. Henry winced and somehow managed not to look away.

Just as he reached the peak of his jump, Charles tossed a grenade down into the pit trap. The explosion was instantaneous, almost completely silent, and… purple? A cushion of purple gelatin arose from the torturous trenches, and Charles landed perfectly in it’s center with a boi-oing that echoed through the pyramid. And he bounced. Once. Twice. Each time a joyous laugh escaped Charles, loud and carefree despite the precarious perils underneath him.

A few bounces later – to test the durability of the gelatin or just for his own amusement, Henry couldn’t say – Charles leapt forward again and launched another grenade. He bounced off the cushion it produced and threw another, and another, until there was purple, bouncy path to the other side of the hazardous chasm. He finally, finally landed on the solid ground of the other side, and as he steadied along with Henry’s heartbeat, Charles turned around and tossed his partners a double thumbs up.

Henry stared after him, slack jawed. Words failed them completely.

Ellie, who had always managed to find the words that eluded Henry, commented, “That dumbass is going to get us killed one of these days.” Her voice was steady and strong, but a slight twitch of the eye betrayed her inner anxiety.

“Well? Come on!” Charles, whose ability to read the room was about on par with his risk assessment skills, called across the chasm, “The Amazonian Amethyst ain’t gonna come to you, slowpokes!”

Despite themselves, a grin stretched across Henry’s face. Now that the initial scare had passed, they found themselves more amused than upset. None of the Triple Threat were the cautious type to begin with – cautious types wouldn’t rob tombs, after all – and the heart attacks weren’t anything new, especially in their profession. So, only pausing to shrug at Ellie, Henry followed in Charles’ footsteps and leapt down into the pit of spikes.

They hit the mass of purple dead center, and was surprised to find that it was not at all sticky or mushy, as would be expected of gelatin. Instead it was soft and smooth, the same texture as a rubber exercise ball, with enough strength to hold their weight while standing firm against the spikes. An almost childlike joy came over Henry as they bounced up and down with loud, echoing boings, flipping and posing like they’d seen trampoline artists on the television do, before finally moving forward on the playful path Charles had created for them.

Behind them, Henry could hear Ellie bounce along as well. Her squeals were surprised and nervous at first, but quickly faded into the more melodious sounds of delight and enjoyment. A million ways to tease their moonlight popped into Henry’s head, but for the moment they simply enjoyed the sound of her unrestrained elation and focused on bouncing from one cushion of violet gelatin to the next, putting their signature style into every leap.

Henry hit the ground next to Charles hard, face first. Ellie landed much more gracefully, on one foot and one knee. She was up before Henry could even get to their knees, and by the time they were back on their feet she’d reached Charles and socked him in the arm. Not hard enough to hurt him, but not quite soft enough to be playful, either.

“Hey!” Charles flinched back a little, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

Ellie raised a brow at him. “You mean besides the heart attack you gave us when you jumped into a pit of spikes?”

Comprehension dawned on Charles’ sweet, stupid little face. “Oooh… yeah, I can see what you mean. Uh… whoops?” This earned him another hit, slightly more playful this time. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, alright? I just wanted to show off for you guys.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Ellie muttered with a glower, but no force in the world could stand up to Charles’ puppy dog eyes, so it wasn’t long before she was fighting a smile as he pouted up at her. “Okay, I forgive you. Just… no more throwing yourself into death pits please?”

“I won’t.” Charles promised, rewarding Ellie’s mercy with a sweet nuzzle and a gentle kiss. “’M sorry.”

Henry watched the tender moment play out between them, transfixed on their two loves from the sidelines, when Charles’ arm suddenly stretched the distance between them. It didn’t reach all the way to Henry, didn’t so much as brush against their skin, but Charles’ hand was open, invitation clear for Henry to accept at their leisure.

“I scared you too, didn’t I?” Asked the pilot, almost rhetorically. “Sorry, Hen.”

Affection flooded Henry’s heart, filling it full enough to burst, as they reached across the distance between them and took Charles’ hand. This was why he was their sunshine; Charles didn’t always have enough awareness to recognize his screw ups (and Henry had the phantom scars of worlds never lived to prove it), but when he did, he always approached them with complete compassion and understanding. He gave them each what they needed; Ellie a laugh to calm her nerves, and Henry the choice of contact and comfort, instead of startling them with a sudden touch they weren’t ready for. Henry relished in his light, the same light that brought the hope of daybreak to the hearts of two darkened criminals.

Instead of voicing their appreciation aloud, Henry accepted the unspoken invitation and allowed Charles to pull them close, peppering their faces with sweet little kisses, causing them to giggle. With his apologies accepted, Charles released his partners and the three turned around to face their next challenge, together.

Another door. Stone this time, a dark and heavy slab that sealed them off from the interior of the pyramid.

“Something tells me we’re not going to blowtorch our way through this one.” Ellie mused, then smiled as she added, in a light, airy voice, “Oh, if only we had some sort of device that could displace us through space and time to get us past this impossible obstacle!” She dramatically flung her hand over her forehead.

Charles tittered dramatically as he played along. “What a shame. Looks like we’ll have to go home without the Amethyst.”

“Knock it off.” Henry scolded, unamused. “Besides, who needs a Teleporter when you’ve got a…” They ruffled through their inventory until they found their prize, and triumphantly pulled out a... “Tire Jack!”

“Tire jack?” Echoed Ellie and Charles behind them, identical looks of confusion adorning their faces.

“Tire Jack.” Henry repeated one final time without elaboration, before dropping to their knees in front of the door. This little baby was a thief’s dream – unassuming, easy to carry, and absolutely perfect for doing things like prying open doors, or… whatever else a tire jack was used for. Henry fitted it to the stone slab, then pumped down once… twice… three times… and managed to create a crack just large enough for the three of them to squeeze through, one at a time.

Ellie nodded in understanding. “Ah. Tire jack.”

“Ooh, ooh! Me first!” Charles called as he ran at door. Henry managed to jump back just in time to avoid being bowled over by Charles’ power slide as he launched himself underneath the door’s crack.

All poor Henry and Ellie could do was gape after him, before Ellie shook her head and mumbled, “Going to be the death of us,” before following suit. Henry crawled underneath the door after them, leaving the chamber in silence.

…

Boing. Boing.

--------------------

Somehow, the chamber they entered after crawling under the door was even darker than what came before. None of the rooms allowed for any sunlight to penetrate the densely packed stones, but at least the previous chambers had the dim glow of the luminescent blue stones on the walls to provide a little bit of light. In this room, however, even that minuscule bit of illumination was absent, leaving Henry and their partners shrouded in complete darkness.

“Eugh, I can’t see a thing.” Ellie summarized, her voice echoing just enough to let Henry know that this was a large, spacious chamber. Her call acted as a beacon, drawing both partners’ attention over to the little corner of the dark expanse where she must have been. “Charles, a little light, sweetheart?”

“Huh?” Either to preserve battery life or to keep from smacking anyone in the eyes with the beam of his torch, Charles had shut it off at some point. The reminder from Ellie, however, caused him to audible scramble to pull it back out. “Oh, right, yeah! I’m on it-!”

The clacking of plastic against stone echoed through the chamber once, twice, three times as the torch hit the ground and bounced away. Then silence.

“…” Henry couldn’t see a damned thing, but they could practically feel Charles wince. “Uh, Yeaah… I’ll, uh, I’ll just…” Shuffling fabric could be heard, followed by a repetition of slap, slap, slap against the cold stone floor as Charles fumbled around. “I’m sure it’s, uh, around here somewhere… Hehe…”

Then, stone sliding against stone. Followed by a painfully loud click.

Henry only had a brief moment to brace themselves for whatever barrage of arrows or spikes or fire was about to kill them dead. Instead, an explosion of white began searing their retinas, forcing their eyes closed and their arms up to defend against the sudden barrage. To their side, Henry could hear Ellie grunt in pain, and the sounds of Charles crawling around had disappeared entirely. Time eased the burden of their pain, their eyes adjusted, and Henry lowered their arms and gazed out into the now lit room.

What greeted their eyes was a circular chamber, far larger than the entrance or connecting chambers behind them, with sunlight pouring through the rooftop. Like the entrance, the walls were painted with spectacular images, icons that had long since forgotten their meanings and portraits of divine beings with names lost to time. Three tables – or, more likely, altars – were set up around the chamber, one underneath each grand portrait of the gods. The grandest of all, however, was that of the Queen Empress, recognizable even to Henry’s history ignorant mind. She was encircled by heavenly light while, to each of her sides, the Gods shifted their gazes unto her.

“Whoa!” Charles, having found the flashlight not three feet in front of him, quickly picked it up and got back to his feet.

“These are amazing!” Ellie gushed, eyes lighting up as she took in the ancient murals. Her aesthetic sense was certainly different from Henry’s – a little flashier, a little more on the romantic side – but her eye for art was second to none. “I wish I had a camera.”

Without even thinking, Henry pulled a disposable camera from their bag and held it up in front of Ellie’s face. It’s primary function was for note-taking and placing identical photos of crime scenes in front of security cameras, but even though they were technically done committing crimes, Henry had never removed it from their inventory.

“Oh.” Ellie blinked, then took the camera. “Thank you.”

“Is this the burial chamber?” Charles asked, then, as if that was a definite yes, excitedly changed the question to, “Is the Amethyst here?”

“I don’t think so.” Ellie responded as she took more and more pictures. The film in that thing wasn’t unlimited, but she’d probably document all she wanted to long before it ran out. “Given that there’s no actual tomb or body here, this is probably a temple of some sort, to honour the gods rather than her.”

To that, Charles and Henry exchanged a glance before gazing up at the image of the Queen Empress, who was larger and grander than any of the divine beings on the wall. “I’m, uh, not a theologist.” Charles said as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “But isn’t imagery like this, like, umm… what the word I’m looking for?”

“Blasphemous?” Henry suggested.

Apparently that was correct, because Charles nodded. “Yeah, that.”

To that, Ellie only shrugged. “Eh, who knows? Maybe having the gods revere you was an old form of worship?”

As they spoke, Henry surveyed the temple. Beyond the portraits and the skylight, the round temple was decorated with ornate columns and intricately carved altars, each adorned with various symbols that had lost their meanings to the flow of time. Their eyes went from mural to mural, from wall to wall, and as they scanned each corner of the chamber a cold feeling sank to the bottom of their stomach.

“Uh, guys?” Henry interrupted, getting Ellie and Charles’ attention. “There’s no exit.”

Indeed, the walls had many things painted on them, but none of them had a door of any sort beyond the entrance.

“Oh. That’s a problem.” Charles mumbled as he too began to look around. “Uh, are you sure this isn’t the burial chamber then?”

“Do you see a body anywhere?” Ellie retorted, then kicked at the ground. The interior of the temple, in the open area just underneath the skylight, was a large circular stone slab inlaid in the floor, again adorned with a symbol Henry didn’t understand. “We entered around the center of the pyramid. The burial chamber and treasure chamber are probably below us somewhere.” Ellie scratched her chin, gazing around, “Which means… to proceed we’ll have to…”

“Dig!’ Charles interrupted, triumphantly pulling a shovel from his inventory. Grinning, he posed to strike down at the stone ground, only to have the shovel nabbed away from him by Ellie.

She spun it in her hand as she shook her head. “Not exactly. There’s probably some mechanism in the room that opens the floor, the same way that button you found opened the skylight. We just have to figure out where it is.” She tossed the twirling shovel into the air, allowing it to whirl before she caught it with ease. “So, let’s start by investigating the room. Charles, see if you can find any more buttons on the floor. Henry, check out the pillars and walls. I’ll take a look at the altars.”

With their tasks divided up, the Triple Threat went about exploring the chamber. Charles dropped to his hands and feet, crawling about the floor like a hound dog sniffing for clues. Henry couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculously serious display before turning to the walls. Like the entrance, the iconography seemed to tell a story. A trickster, a mysterious being cloaked in shadows with a crooked smile, stealing from the gods and causing them to turn their wrath on each other. A divine clash breaking out, a battle of apocalyptic proportions with the trickster caught in the middle. A god of the sky defeated with a necklace, a god of the ocean defeated with song, a god of the mountains defeated with a seed. And the spirits, the innocent bystanders who had perished in the clash, being escorted by the trickster to a new paradise.

Huh. What an odd story.

Henry didn’t have much time to take it all in, however, as a sudden and triumphant, “Aha!” from Charles caught their attention. They turned to find him in front of one of the altars, grinning and rubbing his hands. “Found the button!”

Ellie had been investigating the altar on the other side of the room, but she somehow managed to reach Charles’ side before Henry had. The three of them started down at the button for a long time, contemplating the many, many ways this thing could kill them, before a shrug from Ellie gave Charles the go ahead. It gave a soft click as it depressed all the way.

The Triple Threat tensed, got into formation, and waited for the trap to spring.

And waited.

And… waited…

And there was no trap. Not even a little one. Henry almost felt disappointed.

“Huh.” Ellie mused, getting out of formation and pressing the button down with her foot. Again, nothing happened. “Okay, that’s strange… but maybe…” Ellie stroked her chin as she walked away to the next altar, testing the ground in front of it with her foot until she found what she was looking for and smirked triumphantly. “Ah ha!”

With the same cool confidence as always, Ellie let her foot fall onto another hidden button. It crumbled under her mighty strength, clicking into place neatly.

Henry could sense a pattern here. They quickly walked over to the other side of the room, to the unattended altar, and stared down at where they were certain, based on where Charles and Ellie were standing, that the final button would be. Should they press it? Do they dare risk their life on the mere chance that this button would open the passageway forward?

...Eh, screw it. Henry stamped down on the button hard.

A final click echoed through the chamber. All was silent for one moment, then two, then three. The silence was broken by a rumbling, small at first but then, gradually, getting louder and louder until the whole chamber was shaking. Shadows began to stretch and grow across the floor as stone eclipsed the skylight, slowly, steadily, until nothing but darkness remained.

Henry’s fingers itched. Their every muscle tingled, phantom pains from a world soon to be echoing across their skin, screaming at them to move, move, move-!

Fire burst forth from the symbol on the altar, giving Henry mere seconds to dodge out of the way before the gods could scorch them with divine retribution. Behind them, Henry could hear Ellie gasp as something heavy slammed down way too close to where they knew she was standing, and on their other side, sputtering and coughing and what sounded like a geyser.

Before they could even thinking of running to their partners’ aid, another pillar of fire sprouted up just next to Henry, setting the room alight with a dangerous orange glow. Then another. And another. For now Henry could dodge them, but the streams of fire were going off faster than faster. This was not a matter of if they got burned to a crisp, but when.

In the glow of the firelight, Henry could make out Charles, soaked head to toe, struggling to push against a strong spray of water that had him pinned. Ellie, on the other side, was only narrowly dodging giant stone pillars raining down on her.

“What kind of trap is this?” Henry snapped in frustration. “There wasn’t anything on the walls!” There couldn’t have been, not with those portraits. A button would stand out far too much.

As Charles was too busy battling a barrage of water, it was Ellie who replied. “I have no clue! The way the buttons were positioned – I thought it made sense-”

She sounded genuinely distressed, and that made Henry’s heart ache worse than anything. Ellie was their moon, their constant anchor in an ever-changing world, and they felt her distress as if it were their own. “Hey- hey- it’s okay.” Henry consoled. “If it helps, this is less stupid then, say, jumping out of a bag and directly into an alarm.”

“Yeah!” Charles had managed to keep the extreme stream of water at bay enough to finally contribute – or maybe he was just powering through it. Hard to say with him. “It’s just a little water… and fire… and some rocks… we got this! We’ll just, uh- um…”

As their sunshine rambled on, Henry could see something click in Ellie’s head. Her eyes widened, shimmering with reflected firelight. “Water… fire… and rocks- no, earth…” Ellie’s gaze traveled upward, to the eclipsed skylight. “Henry!” Her force powers kept the crushing stone pillars at bay while she pointed towards the tip top of the ceiling. “I need to get up there!”

Henry rolled out of the way of an incoming stream of fire. They didn’t have a lot of time. Inside their bag were a few things that could get Ellie away from the rocks and up towards the skylight, but what?

There was a pair of boots in Henry’s inventory that would allow for a super jump – just bend your knees and boom! Up you go. Of course, there were way too many ways for that to end horrifically. The flames that were one wrong dodge away from ending Henry were not the greatest source of light. All it took was too much force and Ellie’s head would crack like an egg against the tough stone ceiling. Or too little force, perhaps, and she would fall into one of the various traps spread across the chamber. It was unwise to leap before one could look, after all.

There was a wooden pole stashed away in there as well. One of those nice collapsible ones. Henry could toss it javelin style to Ellie and of course she’d catch it, she’s Ellie, and once she had it she’d go vaulting over the stone crushers keeping her trapped. The wood was very flexible after all, so it wouldn’t be a-

Wait, no. It was made of wood. Which meant, with Henry’s luck, they’d toss it to Ellie only for the trio to watch it be burnt to ash mid-flight. That would be a terrible way for the Triple Threat to burn out.

So, something that wouldn’t be destroyed by the fire, and something that she’d be able to control even under these poor lighting conditions. That left…

A silver chain glistened in the firelight, strong and fierce and far, far more fireproof then the wooden pole. The primary purpose of this thing was to lift and pull, and Henry couldn’t use it for much else. Ellie, however, was far more versatile, and that showed in her shining eyes as she caught the chain in midair, not even looking back at Henry as she did.

Ellie smirked, and Henry knew they were in for a good time.

She whipped the silver chain over her head and out to one of the many decorative protrusions on the rounded ceiling. It stuck firmly in place, and just before a crushing pillar could flatten her into pancake, Ellie launched into a wide swing. Fire licked at her feet and clothing as she came around to Henry’s side of the chamber, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, she held one arm out wide to catch her partner as she swung past, and Henry gripped her hand for all it was worth. They continued their arc around the chamber, and Henry didn’t even need to be told to hold on to Ellie with one arm as they approached where the strong geyser of water had Charles pinned. Henry grabbed him by the collar and held him tight as the soaked pilot got his grip on Ellie.

“You guys okay?” Ellie called down to them, and Charles nodded while Henry gave her a thumbs up. “Awesome! Hang on tight, we’re going up!”

The arc of their swing widened and quickened, spinning them around the room again and again until they built up enough speed for Ellie to launch them towards the spot where the skylight would be. The air rushed past them as they flew upward. Ellie released one hand from her chain, reaching towards the stone covering. They inched closer, and closer…

And something clicked as Ellie’s outstretched hand pushed in the final button.

Below them, the traps disappeared as quickly as they had activated. The fire stopped. The stone crushing pillars retreated back to their spots hidden in the ceiling. The stream of water sputtered to a halt. The trio landed back on solid ground just as the skylight began to open again, illuminating the temple with sparkling sunlight. Just behind them, the ground rumbled and shook before opening up to reveal a spiral staircase into the unknown depths.

“Woo-hoo!” Charles cheered. The fabric of his clothing was drenched and worn from the pressure of the water that had trapped him earlier, but Charles hardly paid it any mind as he threw his arms around his partner. “Way to go Els!”

“That was so cool!” Henry gushed, piling into her from the other side to keep her sandwiched between them. With her two loves surrounding her, Ellie was able to wind down a little, her shoulders relaxing and her smile widening to expose cute dimples on each side of her mouth.

Ellie giggled in response to their compliments. One of her arms snaked around Henry’s waist while the other latched around Charles’ shoulders. “It wasn’t a big deal.” She shrugged, mock bashfulness on her face even as she reveled in their praise. “I just figured, once Charles said that thing about fire and water and stone, that the traps were based on the elements, and from there it wasn’t hard to figure out that there was another button on the skylight.”

“Still! That was AWESOME!” Charles eyes practically sparkled with delight. “The way you tossed that hook and just-” Charles paused to lift both Ellie and Henry off the ground. He was strong enough to do so, but only barely, leaving Ellie squealing and Henry clinging on for dear life. Charles spun as he continued to recount the events that they’d just lived through, thank you very much.

When Charles finally put them down, Henry took the opportunity to link their fingers with Ellie’s, bringing a softer expression to her face. “Seriously. You were amazing.”

Ellie met their eyes. Those purple orbs seemed to glow softly in the sunlight, reflecting every feeling she couldn’t say. All her worry, her joy, her excitement, her pride, her love… she could spill it out in a thousand words like Charles, but that was never her style. She showed her love in her actions, in her worried fussing, in the look in her eyes as she watched after the two of them.

Henry squeezed her hand a little tighter, relishing in her tender gaze.

“-and then you landed perfectly!” Having finished his little tirade, Charles gazed back at the two of them, and his entire demeanor seemed to soften when he noticed their intertwined hands. “So, yeah. That was super cool.”

“It was.” Ellie agreed finally. She gave Henry’s hand a final squeeze before pulling away to jog lazily towards the newly revealed stairwell. “Now come on! We’re so close to the amethyst I can practically taste it!” Charles chased after her, laughing, and Henry followed suit down the long set of spiral stairs. Darkness waited below, but for now they had the beam of light from the opening directly overhead, granting them safe passage. As they descended, the air cooled; from Henry’s limited experience, the jungle was never anything but unpleasantly humid, so it was a nice change of pace. They zoned out as they walked: listening to Ellie and Charles discuss what might lie ahead, feeling the cool air grant their skin sweet relief from the awful heat, seeing the shadows grow across the ground below them, smelling the old musk of trapped air rise-

Henry blinked and looked back down at the ground below the skylight. The rays hit the ground uninterrupted, illuminating the old stones for the first time in centuries. They then looked upward at the skylight, seeing it clearly, without any sort of obstacle that could cast a shadow. But Henry could have sworn…

No, it was just their paranoia acting up again. Henry exhaled deeply and continued onward.

--------------------

The spiral staircase went down a long, long way, extending past what Henry thought would be the bottom of the pyramid. When they finally reached the end, the Triple Threat found the passageway as dark and foreboding as the ones upstairs before the skylight. They had Charles’ torch, but even its beam could only extend so far. Down below the surface the air was cooler but stale, and the walls, while thick and beautifully crafted, had no more stories to tell. Instead a pattern of intricate molding and paneling lead their way to the depths of the tomb.

The silence between them was deafening as each member of the Triple Threat prepared, in their own way, for whatever traps might lay ahead. As it turned out though, the largest trap they had to worry about was the architecture. Each pathway ended with a split in two directions. All it took was two turns for Henry to realize just how lost they could get in this convoluted maze. Luckily, their partners had a solution.

“It’s the same system we use when gaming together.” Charles explained as he scribbled on a piece of notebook paper. “We’ll make a map as we go, and mark shapes into the walls so we don’t get turned around.” As if to demonstrate, Ellie marked an o with a line through it right next to a clear dead end, and Charles made a corresponding mark on the map. “I don’t mean to ah, brag or anything, but we’re basically professional cartographers at this point.”

As if to demonstrate their prowess, Charles turned and proudly presented the map, which was just a jumble of lines with random symbols on it to Henry. Still, they gave the two an approving thumbs up.

So the trio marched on. This section of the pyramid wasn’t necessarily difficult, given that the traps were all laughably easy to dodge, but it did drag on a bit. The labyrinth was designed to confuse and entrap any enterprising thieves, and perhaps it would have successfully diverted one on their own.

Good thing these thieves came in a set of three.

At some point they reached a long sloping hallway, stretching so far forward that Charles’ flashlight could not even illuminate the far wall. The scent of upcoming danger wafted in the air, causing a mixture of anxiety and excitement in the trio. Charles got the privilege of leading the way due to his incredible skill of remembering to bring a torch, but Ellie and Henry were not far behind.

“Keep a sharp eye out.” Ellie warned as they crept down the long, long passageway. “There could be traps everywhere. Be prepared for anything-”

Click.

Henry looked down at their foot, and the slight indent in the floor from where they’d managed to step on a button. Whoops.

“What did I literally just say?” Ellie scolded, looking more annoyed than genuinely panicked. All Henry could muster in response was a sheepish grin.

The whole pyramid shook underneath their feet. Ellie and Charles, somehow, kept their balance, but Henry could not, and it was only after they’d fallen to the floor and were forced to look up that they saw the giant boulder cascading down towards them. They were up and running in an instant, and the screaming behind them told Henry their sunshine and moonlight were trailing behind them.

“Ah, Henry?” Charles called. His voice held a hint of nervousness – just a small touch – as he somehow managed to keep pace with the two thieves. “Now might be a good time for one of your tricks. You know, like that earthbending thing you can sometimes do-” Wouldn’t work. Henry’s skills weren’t strong enough to stop something that big in it’s tracks. They’d create a ramp to launch the blasted thing just above their heads and end up managing to crush the trio like a batch of gross pancakes. “-or maybe one of those Gizmo Gabe things you’re always carrying around-” Nah, Henry didn’t even need future sight to see where that would go wrong. Gadget Gabe (Charles never could get that name right) meant well, but their devices were… well, half-baked. The Float-O-Matic in their pack might get them away from the boulder, but it might also get them stuck to the ceiling with no hope of escape. No thank you.

“Or, you know,” Ellie yelled over the rumbling. Her voice was a little stressed, but also a little teasing, “We could teleport away from it!”

“Get bent!” Henry snapped back at her. “We don’t need that thing! It ALWAYS backfires!”

With that, Henry pulled out a sheet of paper, a canvas about the size of their body, and spun around to face the boulder head on. Ellie and Charles called out behind them, but Henry was singularly focused on the rock speeding at them at high speeds. The paper in their arms crinkled loudly as Henry waved it with both arms, as if airing out a towel, before dramatically bringing it up over their head. They waited for the boulder to get in to place.

Waiting…

Waiting….

Waiting… now!

The paper tore the boulder into tiny little shreds, sending shrapnel flying all around. Henry paid it no mind, driving the giant sheet of paper down further and further. It ground down the boulder until nothing but dust remained.

“See?” Henry looked back, speaking between deep breaths. Using that much force really took a lot out of a person. “We don’t need the teleporter.”

Ellie blinked stupidly at the display in front of her. “What- but- how did you-?!”

Dearest Charles, the only sympathetic party to her confusion, patted her gently on the back as he explained: “Paper beats rock. That’s just logic.”

“That only works in rock, paper, scissors!” Ellie cried out, frustrated. “That’s not how-”

She was shushed gently, and treated to one of Charles’ sunshiny smiles. “It’s Henry.” He said plainly, as if this explained what she’d just seen. “Don’t question it.”

As Henry passed her, listening to her frustrated grunting, they couldn’t help but smile. Mere moments after they disappeared into the darkness, the crackling and crunching of stone debris could be heard behind them.

--------------------

Finally, after long hours of trekking, after all the falls and traps and near death experiences that had protected the treasure within, the Triple Threat arrived at the grand entrance to the tomb. Before them stood a door at least as tall as the three stacked up. It was engraved with the Queen Empress’ visage, grand and imposing as she stared down at the mighty rats who dared steal from her precious tomb. Never one to do things by halves, the Mighty Empress had the door’s framing made of shining gold, which had Henry and Ellie salivating and Charles rolling his eyes. The torches that once illuminated the path to her final place of resting had been damp and cold far longer than any of them had been alive.

“You know,” Ellie looked up at the humongous image of the woman, as grand as she was tall, with crossed arms and thin lips, “I think this might be the burial chamber. Not sure why, but I just get that vibe, you know?”

Charles snorted. “I dunno, we’ve seen a lot of this woman plastered everywhere.”

“Good point.” Ellie agreed.

While they bickered and quipped, Henry took a good look at the grand entrance and stroked their chin thoughtfully. They pushed at the door and, to no one’s surprise, it didn’t budge. So they’d have to pull it open. A difficult task, without handles on a door more than twice Henry’s size, but Henry was a master of work smarter, not harder.

Except for that one time with the bank.

Or that other time with the prison.

Or… you know what? Henry was just going to drop this line of thought before they embarrassed themselves further.

Instead, Henry pulled a crowbar out of their inventory and wedged it carefully between the giant stone doors. Its lodging gave Henry the leverage needed to pry the door open, and the task was made easier when Charles and Ellie finally broke away from their banter to lend their strength. Together they succeeded, as they always did, and the door to the crypt opened with a gust of wind and a pungent odor. Rot and decay caused the trio’s eyes and noses to burn, but they pressed onward. Ellie, in a moment of practical brilliance, handed out air fresheners she’d stolen from the helicopter rental place. The scent of pine was too faint to completely block out the stench, but it provided a little relief.

The entire interior of the chamber was bathed in green light, illuminated by lines of shimmering green stone on the ground. Made from the same glowing material as the murals upstairs, it did such a good job of lighting up the joint that Charles was able to give his poor, overworked torch a well deserved rest. The lines ran up the walls, across the floor, in circles and in straight dashes across dark stone, revealing a room about as large as the temple above, and… largely empty. A few altars were placed in each corner beneath a mural, and in the center of the room was an unremarkable stone box which must have contained the queen’s body.

Charles echoed Henry’s thoughts exactly. “Wait, is this it?”

“Not seeing a lot of treasure here, Charlie.” Ellie remarked. She waltzed ahead to the stone casket, frowning as she mulled it over.

“No, wait, no!” Almost frantically, their poor pilot began zipping around the room, at this point uncaring of any traps he might uncover. “There has to be more! There’s no way this isn’t the place! Unless… they didn’t bury her with it? But that wouldn’t make any sense…!”

Henry idly pat Charles on the back while he spiraled over the misinformation. They were just about to tell him something along the lines of ‘It’s about the journey, not the destination’ (a useless platitude, but one that might make him feel better) when their eyes drifted to the wall behind one of the altars, to the large portrait of a god surrounded by mountains. The divine being’s eyes were blank, painted without pupils, but the rest of their body language – their stance, their expression, the scowl on their face – suggested pure, unbridled rage. Scanning the rest of the room, Henry found two more familiar figures along the walls near the other altars. The Ocean God and the Sky God, each gazing into the room with the same fury as the Mountain God.

Henry had seen this before.

While the fire and water and giant stones had been a very good distraction from what Henry had assumed was just a common legend immortalized upon the walls, they had still managed to take a good look before they’d been forced to move on. Three altars for three gods that had needed to be placated by a trickster.

Just as Ellie had made her way over to join them in comforting Charles, Henry left his side and made their way over to the Mountain God’s altar. How had the mural gone again?

A god of the mountains defeated with a seed. All Henry had on them that could satisfy that condition was some sunflower seeds that Charles had packed for snacking. Taking a breath and praying this wouldn’t get them all killed in some horrible way, Henry took one seed from the packet and dropped it on the altar.

The glowing lines on the floor suddenly shifted, spinning as the mural changed before their eyes. The angry god smiled down happily at the seedling on their altar, placated by the promise of new plants spreading across the mountains. Sounds of awe came from Ellie and Charles, but Henry paid their partners no mind as they struggled to recall the next image. The god of the sky, with storm clouds flooding the air around them and lightning a their fingertips, had been placated with a… piece of jewelry? A ring? No, that wasn’t right… a necklace…? Yeah, that was it.

While Henry had more than their fair share of fine accessories, they weren’t in the habit of bringing those accessories with them, on account of potentially losing them, or breaking them, or being electrocuted when the metal catches lightning or something. So instead of a nice, fancy necklace like in the mural above ground, all they could offer to the sky god was their employee badge from work, a little lanyard with a picture of Henry and a bar-code on it. Nothing like the ornate piece that was offered in the mural, but the sky god accepted it anyways. As before, the lines on the floor changed, transforming the image instead to that a pleased god with calm skies and a sunny smile.

That just left the final mural. The god of the oceans, vast and temperamental, plagued with storms and swells alike, glared down at Henry in clear rage. The last god was soothed with a song, Henry recalled. So how should they proceed?

Henry already knew singing was out of the question. Their throat was already sore from a day of mere conversational talking, and even beyond that Henry’s musical gifts did… not extend to their vocal chords. Breaking out into song would only shatter all their heads like glass. Hitting the high note was not among Henry’s many talents; Their B sharp would only fall flat.

So, instead, Henry produced a long out of date mp3 player from their inventory. How long had that thing been in there? Five years? Ten? However long it took for the once widespread piece of musical tech to become completely irrelevant. Of course, somehow, it still had a charge on it, and Henry’s grin only widened as a familiar hip hop tune, popular in whatever decade Henry had last bothered to update the thing, began thumping out, echoing sweetly in the large chamber.

Charles’ face lit up immediately, “Ooh, I remember this! Aw man, I used to sing this all the time when I was a kid!” As if to prove his point, Charles joined in with the next line. Much like Charles himself, the singing was a little clumsy, a little off note, but so sweet and so enthusiastic that you couldn’t help but bask in the warmth.

Ellie laughed along, reflecting Charles’ enthusiasm with her own uniquely charming mirth, and joined in on the singing. Her voice was elegant and refined, carrying the tune of the song far more easily than Charles’. Ellie would have never sung like this even a year ago, when they’d first started dating, too concerned with proving herself cool and reliable to her new comrades, even if she let her true self slip through once in a while. Now she was unafraid to really let her hair down, matching Charles’s silliness with unrestrained enthusiasm.

And, of course, they’d never leave Henry out. For even though Henry couldn’t sing, they were quite the dancer, and all it took was the gentlest pull of their sun and moon’s gravity for Henry to be sucked into their orbit. They spun and twirled and danced to the beat of the song, Henry guiding their partners through the motions of the rhythm. None of the Triple Threat paid any mind to the change in the green lines, or the appearance of a fourth mural as the beaming trickster appeared to create a fourth line of green luminescent light. It was only at the end of the song, when the trio were exhausted and laughing on the floor, did they catch the tail end of the changes in the room as the lid of the coffin retracted.

Henry exchange a look with their partners before approaching the open tomb. They expected a collection of withered bones and tattered clothes to be laid before them as they peered into the grave, but to their surprise what instead met their eyes was one final staircase.

“So this was a false burial chamber.” Ellie mused from behind them. “Sneaky. Verrrrry sneaky.”

“Hah!” Charles cheered, pumping an arm in celebration. “I knew there had to be more to it! No way my information was wrong!” The melancholy of his earlier disappointment had completely flipped on its head, leaving fierce determination in its place. “That treasure’s gotta be just up ahead! Come on, team! Final stretch!”

He extended out a hand, and it was almost without thought that Henry reached out to place their own atop it, followed swiftly by Ellie. Their eyes met, green and red and violet sparkling with the emerald light of the glowing stone lines surrounding them, and the Triple Threat nodded as they broke their huddle by launching their hands to the ceiling in one final show of commitment to their quest before charging down the secret stairs, energy renewed.

All the while unaware of the silhouetted form shadowing them, silently darkening the space behind them. The figure halted, watching and listening, before descending down after them with slow, tenacious steps.

--------------------

Darkness crept upward as the Triple Threat crept down. The ray of Charles’ torch, now beginning to fade in intensity after several hours of use, was the only source of light in the dank, shadowy crypt. Almost as unnerving as the darkness was the silence, the complete and utter cessation of any sounds other than their echoing footsteps. Tingling sensations traveled along Henry’s spine with each stride downward they took, muscles tensed as they awaited the next trap, the next emergency, the next big bad thing that would jump out from the pitch black nothing stretching ahead of them and their partners.

What instead greeted them was the sound of rushing water.

Each member of the team immediately jolted to a halt as their tired minds finally processed the sound, and once they did Henry spared a glance to first Ellie, right behind them with eyes blown wide, then Charles, whose jaw dropped so low it was practically on the floor. Caution thrown to the wind, the Triple Threat redoubled their pace, going as fast as they dared until they reached the end of the final descent. The bottom of the stairs lead to a hallway only a few meters long, its exit beckoning them with a rainbow of illuminated stones. Charles’ torch clicked off, but the light in the room didn’t diminish enough to hamper the quickened steps of the suddenly elated adventurers. Henry’s heart pounded harder, disbelief buzzing over their bones as hope built in their chest. Was this it? Did they make it?

The end of the hallway opened up, and Charles’ sharp gasp of shock and awe did more to express Henry’s feelings in that moment than anything they could have put into words.

The Queen Empress had built her final resting place atop an underground spring full of crystal clear water carving its way through the spacious cavern. Its forks and twists created small islands, upon each of which was a small mountain of captured treasures for the Empress to take into her next life. It felt like something out of a cheesy movie; piles of glittering gold coins and cups and whatever else the tyrant had managed to snatch away from their rightful owners, stretching so tall one almost couldn’t see over them to the rocky edges of the naturally formed cave. Henry took a few stunned steps forward, only noting the possibility of more traps after failing to be hit by any. A quick glance to their six showed that their partners were in similar states of awe, Charles oohing and ahhing and Ellie practically salivating over the piles of treasure.

With this much moolah, the Triple Threat would never have to work again… they could live in the lap of luxury, servants at their beck and call, all their wishes and desires fulfilled with only a snap of the fingers… diamond jewelry and name-brand furniture and private chefs and golden toilet seats and-!

“Aw man, this is so cool!” Charles chirped up behind Henry, knocking them out of their daydreams, wading across the one of the streams with a carefree swagger. “It must’ve taken years to get all this down here! How do you think they got it all down those stairs?”

Of course. Damned logistics. Well, Henry was certain they could get at least a good chunk outta here before their vacation was up. After they found their prize, of course.

At the center of the spring, surrounded by waterfalls and luscious cave flowers, was the Queen Empress’ sarcophagus. It was delicately carved, much more ornate and intricate than the fake sarcophagus upstairs, which made Henry feel silly for ever thinking that slab of lazily slapped together stone was the real tomb of such an egomaniac. And hovering above her coffin, the centerpiece of a grand chandelier dangling from the ceiling, was the Amazonian Amethyst, shimmering stunningly as light from the glowing stones that decorated the tomb reflected off of its brilliant surface.

“Beautiful…” Ellie whispered, walking ahead of Henry almost as if in a trance. Henry themselves hadn’t even realized they’d paused in a stupor until she overtook them, and then, well, it became a race. They playfully, not too hard, shoved Ellie to the side and bolted ahead, and of course she ran after them and shoved back even harder.

Somewhere behind them, Charles laughed. “Play nice, you two!” He called forward, no doubt fully aware that his demand would go unheeded.

The impromptu race took Ellie and Henry swiftly across the pathway through the spring, up the staircase and finally halting just underneath the chandelier. Now, how to lower it? Henry could just jump up and try to pull the gigantic gemstone loose, but something told them that they’d take the whole chandelier – and part of the stalactite it was dangling from – down with it, crushing both themselves and Ellie. Not the kind of bringing down the roof they were fond of. They could try and poke it loose with a stick or something, but it looked pretty wedged in there. It wouldn’t budge for quite a while, and them and Ellie would poke harder, and harder, until they’d used enough force to launch it into the air, where it’d fly up and up and then down and down and then hit their pilot in the head, knocking him out cold. Some anniversary present, eh Charles?

It was while Henry was skimming through their options that the sudden sound of metal clanking and clacking startled them into a jump. Their gaze darted around until it finally rested on Ellie, carefully lowering the chandelier on the opposite side of the sarcophagus with a smile and, once her eye caught Henry’s, a playful wink.

God, they loved this woman.

The chandelier came to rest atop the coffin. Henry and Ellie stood above it, and Henry didn’t need to look over at their moonlight to know that her eyes reflected the excitement as their own. They didn’t even need to speak; Henry pressed down on the chandelier with the full weight of their body while Ellie hopped atop the structure to pull at the amethyst.

“Come on,” She muttered to the gemstone stuck in the structure,” Come to mama.”

Her arms were quivering with the effort it took, but unlike Henry Ellie was strong, so with each pull it came a little more loose, then a little more… then more…

Until, with a pop, it was finally free. Ellie had been using so much force that she toppled off the chandelier and into Henry’s waiting arms.

She looked down at the gem, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was there in her hands, and then back up at Henry to begin laughing in sheer astonishment. “We found it,” She forced out between chuckles. Henry sauntered over to place their own hands underneath the gigantic gem, helping Ellie to support its weight. “We actually found it! Charles! Hey Charles!” Their guy, who had been distracted combing over the mountain of treasures, looked up at them and immediately his eyes popped out of their sockets. The expression had Ellie laughing even harder. “Aw, man, I can’t believe-”

Her mirthful tone was cut short by a bang.

Its echos thundered across the cavern, piercing Henry’s eardrums and stilling them instantly. There was no mistaking that sound, not for a trio of experienced adventurers like them. The sharp gasp that followed, however, was far scarier.

Henry and Ellie whipped their heads down to watch their partner gasp and stumble back, clutching at his leg, Without a second to spare Ellie dropped the gem and began sprinting back, and Henry followed swiftly after. They only halted when Charles’ fall to the ground was interrupted by a pair of large hands grabbing him and forcing him back on his feet. Streaks of red began running down Charles’ leg, staining his clothes, and as painful as it must have been for him to stand on his wounded leg, Charles’ only response was to bite his lip and glare up, past the muzzle of the gun shoved in his face, at the assailant now holding him hostage.

There was something familiar about this man, something that had a name dancing on the edge of Henry’s brain, but in their panic they couldn’t quite grasp it. Rather than try, Henry squared their shoulders and took a defensive stance, eyes darting around as they looked for options.

So far, nothing that wouldn’t get Charles killed.

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” Ellie addressed the attacker with a near business-like seriousness, only a hint of the rage Henry was sure she had bubbling within her lacing the words, “But if you drop the pilot now and begin running, I’ll give you five minutes to get out of here.” Swift as a hurricane gale, the sidearm Ellie always carried was in her hands, drawn and pointed at the assailant. She wouldn’t actually fire it, of course. She’d never risk hitting Charles-

(Which was why Henry hadn’t drawn theirs. With their bad luck, it’d misfire and put a hole clear through his skull.)

-but the attacker didn’t know that. Probably.

“Feh.” He scoffed, his red mustache twitching as his lips curled in disgust. “Ya don’ bother talkin’ about us, Henry?” The sheer resentment in his tone tickled something in Henry’s mind – a life they hadn’t lived, an alliance they hadn’t made, broken by a man they’d never met. If only they could put a name to the face…

Henry forced themselves to snap back to reality. Charles’ needed them in the now, they couldn’t afford to get lost in a life not lived.

“Or do you two actually not remembah me?” This time his embittered query was directed at Charles, which sparked an increasingly familiar protective fury in Henry’s chest, “Ya took everything I had, ruined my life, and ya can’t even be bothered ta remembah?!” As he went on, his voice got louder, his wrath colouring his words more and more, until he was screaming in Charles’ ear. Credit to their partner, Charles didn’t so much as flinch, the stern military composure that he almost never displayed finally being put to use.

That didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“If you’re so ticked about us forgetting,” Ellie quipped, the only clue that she shared Henry’s fear and fury hidden in the tenseness of her shoulders, “Then why don’t you remind us?

The call-out caused the bristling man to cool, at least somewhat. “Tch. It don’t actually matter a lick if ya know why ya need to die.” He pressed the muzzle of his gun into Charles’ neck, and their pilot, their sunshine, only grew colder and stonier in response. “Just that you do.”

He forced Charles to take a step backward, and in response to Ellie’s call of, “Wait, stop!”, he only aimed his gun at Henry and Ellie, forcing them to stop. His grip around Charles’ tightened to prevent escape in lieu of the gun threat; even if he hadn’t, the shot to the leg would’ve kept Charles’ from running.

“Oh, no, you two ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Growled the assailant. “This ol’ tomb is yours now. You’ll both die in this place. Not ‘im though.” Again, the gun’s tip rested against Charles’ skin. “’E’s my ticket to my next target. Can’t kill ‘em ‘til I get my ‘ands on that ringleader o’ yours.”

That one puzzled Henry a bit, but Ellie picked up on the clues faster. “You’re after the General.” She accused.

“Him,” The assailant proclaimed, and for just a moment Henry could see a flicker of red mechanical? light in one of his eyes, “’Is subordinates, ‘is witnesses… everyone who ‘ad a hand in bringing us down. I’m gonna get a little payback.”

Echoes of a voice across a timeline, a fight that never occurred, a betrayal from a man he never met… “Time fer a little payback!”

Without even thinking, Henry’s mind found the name amongst the fractures of futures that never were, and they whispered, “Right Hand Man.”

“So ya do remembah me.” He snipped. In this world, Henry had only really seen the man on the news, back when the Toppats were first being arrested, but he’d changed since then. His hair had grown far longer, his body thin from a diet of delicious prison slop, and his hat didn’t quite match up with the ex-con’s memories. But Henry felt stupid for forgetting what the man looked like, considering his impact in the alternate futures Henry had seen. “How flattering.”

“Know this guy, Hen?” Ellie asked, her brows furrowing at her partner. Henry tried not to think about what that could mean, or, with their mind fractured between timelines, how easily she could pull up memories from a world they weren’t as friendly in.

All they could manage was one word. “Toppats.”

“That’s what this is about?!” Charles exploded, breaking his stoic mask to glare at his captor. Henry’s silent prayers for him to shut up went unanswered, proving once again how the universe hated them, “Dude, we took down the Toppats, like, three years ago or something! You seriously couldn’t have found another clan to-?!”

Apparently this was what it took to offend the Right Hand Man, because he shifted his hold to grab at Charles’ hair and yank hard, causing a flinch of pain that made Henry’s arm hair stiffen. “I may need ya alive fer now,” He spat, “But if ya wanna keep that waggin’ tongue of yers, I suggest puttin’ a sock in it.”

Charles, thankfully, took that advice, even as he was forced to walk backwards on his injured leg. Everything in Henry was telling them to run after the Toppat cretin, to take back their Charles and make him pay for the damage he’d caused, but the gun barrel pointed at Charles’ face kept both them and Ellie painfully still. All they could do was watch as their sunlight was dragged away from them, leaving the duo stuck in the dark of the cavern.

“Dammit,” Ellie growled under her breath, We’ve got to-”

Once again, she was rudely cut off with a bang, this one much grander in scale. The cavern began to shake with the force of a small explosion set off from the very exit Charles and the Right Hand Man had just taken. Rocks began falling from the ceiling and, with growing horror, Henry realized that the Right Hand Man had intended to keep his promise: The exit was being sealed off. They would die here.

Ellie’s voice cut through the air with a sharp, “Henry, move!”

The exit seemed so far away, and the rocks were falling so fast. They wouldn’t make it. Not at the speed they were running at. Henry’s gut sank, and their mind raced as they peered desperately into the future.

A power slide wouldn’t get them enough speed. They’d make it just close enough for their foot to be crushed underneath the falling debris. Miles away from a home run.

Ultra speed shoes would make them go too fast, overshooting their target and burrowing through the staircase on the other side. That would cave in on top of them just as painfully as standing in the entrance would. And them without any power rings.

Time was slipping away. Fast. Soon the clock would run out, and they’d be trapped, and Charles would be- Charles would-

There was one other option. A change for escape that was just fast enough to get one of them out before the passage was sealed off. Without warning Henry grabbed Ellie’s hand, ignoring her sharp shriek as they spun around once, twice, three times… before tossing her like a hammer. Ellie barely had enough time to brace herself as she flew just underneath the falling the rubble, making it to safety on the other side before the final stones fell, sealing off the tomb completely.

A sigh of relief escaped Henry.

From behind the pillar of rubble, Ellie’s voice cried out. “Henry?! Henry!! Henry, are you there?!”

“I’m here!” They called, moving more swiftly towards the barrier between them and the outside. “I’m okay, I promise! Now get out of here!”

“What?! But you-!”

“Have air and water.” Henry cut her off. “I’ll be find until you can send for help. But Charles is alone with that psychopath. He needs you far more than I do right now.”

There was a pause from the other side, but no sound of Ellie moving away, so Henry kept silent until they finally heard her, “I’m coming back for you.” She promised, her voice carrying a rare sense of desperate seriousness. “I promise, I’m not going to abandon you here. No matter what happens.”

Ah, of course. Their Rose, their shimmering light in the dark, had been chewed up and left for the cops by some previous associates. If there was one thing she’d never joke about, it was betrayal. “I know.” They told her with all the trust in their heart, and they hoped that was enough for her. “Now go get our boy and show that Toppat jerk just who he’s messed with.”

“Okay.” Ellie agreed, her footsteps audible even through the debris. Then they fell silent. “I love you.” Her voice called back, and before Henry could respond Ellie was sprinting off into the distance.

Though their was no way their quiet voice could reach her, Henry whispered back, “Love you too, Moonlight.”

They continued listening through the rubble, Ellie’s footsteps becoming quieter and quieter until, finally, the only sound remaining was the babbling of the underground river, slowly flowing by. With no way to follow after their two loves, all Henry could do was drop to the ground, releasing the tension within them into a heavy sigh.

There was nothing they more they could do at this point. As well stocked as they kept their inventory, they’d somehow failed to think they’d need to bring any sort of mining equipment. Forcing their way out was out of the question. And while they could follow the underwater streams, there was no way of knowing how far the channel traveled before emptying itself outside – if it did at all. There was just as likely a chance of Henry finding a flooded cavern, and while they could swim reasonably well, they were far from a seasoned diver. The safest option was to wait for Ellie to save Charles and return to rescue them.

If she managed to catch them at all, a traitorous part of their brain whispered. Henry swallowed thickly around the familiar dryness in their throat.

Instead of dwelling on the what ifs and the fight no doubt going on above, Henry tried instead to focus on the positives, what few they could find. Right Hand Man’s explosion had only been large enough to cave in the entrance; the rest of the burial chamber, sans some debris and a few displaced pieces of treasure, was entirely intact, with little chance of caving in on Henry’s head. Glancing around the cavern, they could also see algae and moss growing along the sides of the river. With luck, that meant fish, so they were not likely to starve before help arrived either. Sushi was far from their preferred meal of choice, but they were used to working with what little they had.

Continuing their observation of the burial chamber, Henry’s eyes were quickly drawn to something out of place; a splotch of bright red in a room otherwise filled with muted blues and greens and golds. A gym bag, made of a rough modern fabric with a dark zipper, sat unassumingly not far from where the bloodstain of Charles’ shooting marred the ground. Alarm bells went off in Henry’s head the second they registered what they were looking at. Bags like this were typically used in the case of an inventory being exceeded, but the only tool the Right Hand Man had used was their gun, a pistol that lacked the equipment requirements to necessitate that much gear, and the explosives that had blown up the cavern. And why leave the bag behind?

Henry forced themselves to stand, an uneasy weight shifting in their gut as they moved. The bag was zipped shut. Henry’s fingers were slowly and shaky as they pulled the zipper up, over, and down…

Exposing the bomb left instead the bag. A much larger explosive with a much bigger yield. Henry’s experience with this particular brand of bomb was minimal, but they knew enough to know that it could easily level the entire pyramid.

The bastard had promised that Henry would die, after all. Of course he wouldn’t leave it to chance.

There was no clock on the bomb, no sign that it would just explode at random. That didn’t mean it wasn’t on a timer, of course, but given how spiteful the Right Hand Man had been so far, Henry had a feeling it would go off at his whim. Either way, however, time was short for Henry Stickmin. They had to find a way out of the mess, and fast.

Attempting to disarm the explosive was a possibility, of course, but Henry didn’t know diddly squat about bomb disposal. Any attempt to cut the wires would just set the bomb off. All the wires might as well be the red one when you have no idea what you’re doing, after all.

Their next thought was to attempt an escape through the river, but their previous logic gave them pause. If the stream emptied out into a completely submerged cavern, then Henry would either have to swim for freedom and hope they could find an exit or… drown. And there was no guarantee a bomb with this kind of yield wouldn’t cause a cave in that could leave Henry trapped without air. Of the many, many ways they’d seen themselves die, suffocating to death tended to be some of the worst, primarily because suffocating was slow. The worst deaths were always the slow ones.

Sighing heavily, Henry plopped themselves down next to the bag. Their eyes scanned it over when they noticed something… underneath the bomb.

No way. The Right Hand Man was NOT stupid enough to leave anything else inside that bag… right?

Very carefully, so as not to set off a premature explosion, Henry inched the bomb aside and took a gander at the contents underneath. Indeed, the Right Hand Man had left other things inside along with the bomb… mostly his trash. Old wrappers, what may have been a shopping list before water damage got to it, a photograph of Henry and their partners littered with cigarette burns that was absolutely not chilling in any way, thank you very much. Growling a little, Henry continued to shuffle things around, hoping that something in this trash might be a little useful. A manual for the explosive was probably too optimistic to ask, but maybe there was some gum they could use to gunk up the interior, or an old radio that could be used to jam the activation frequency, or… or…

Henry’s mind ground to a halt as they reached the bottom of the bag, staring down at the final piece of garbage with their mouth agape. For the first time since bidding Ellie adieu, they spoke.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!”

--------------------

For the second time in a single day, a thousand years of peaceful rest for the dead was disturbed by a barrage of footsteps. The first time Ellie traversed these halls, her steps carried caution, nervousness, excitement, and determination that damped the sounds of her and her partners’ (and their stalker’s) traversal through the tomb. Now, however, those same sounds were louder, stronger, more frequent as they bounced off the walls and amplified ten times over. Just as loud was the steady, heavy breathing that escaped from her gasping mouth as she raced backwards through the pyramid.

Louder still was the beating of her heart in her chest.

Ellie couldn’t’ let herself think. If she did, all her worries and fears, the danger her boys were in, would overwhelm her in an instant. All she could do was keep pace, keep looking forward. Follow her map through the labyrinth protecting the burial chamber and try not to think of the silly look on Charles’ face as he focused on making it. Climb the staircase into the temple and don’t think of Henry’s confident smile as they danced their way through the false burial chamber. By this point the purple jelly… rubber… things had dissolved or something, so Ellie had to use Henry’s metal chain to swing across the pit of deadly spikes and potentially less deadly snakes and not think about whether or not the kidnapper got Charles across unscathed.

At last she reached the exit, the light at the end of the tunnel. Exhaustion was seeping into her bones, but Ellie did her best not to heed it any mind. She ignored the searing pain of fresh sunlight piercing her sensitive retinas as she returned to the land of the living. Ellie’s gaze darted around the jungle, searching for her targets with the same discerning eye that once picked originals out of fakes. In mere moments she found her boy struggling against the grip of his attacker at the very edge of the treeline.

Ellie couldn’t waste a second. She skipped the stairs and slid down the side of the pyramid instead, coming to a halt at the very bottom. She didn’t pause to so much as catch her breath. Instead she flew forward, her lungs burning at the sight of Charles stuck in that bastard’s grip, his pistol at Charles’ temple, and without so much as a cry of warning she shot her pistol with pin perfect accuracy. Her mark, the tree immediately to the left of the captor and hostage, had a smoking hole clear through the center ring, at the same height of the red-headed bitch’s face. A singular warning of just what kind of force he was messing with before things got ugly.

(And if there was so much as a scratch on her Charles… oh, would things get ugly.)

Though she hardly needed to make the demand aloud, Ellie called out to the Toppat, “I’ll give you one more chance. Release the pilot, now.”

The Toppat – what had Henry called him? The Right Something? - took one look at her, at the smoking tip of the gun in her hand, and had the utter audacity to smirk at the sight of it. “Heh. You all by your lonesome, girly?”

Let it be known that Ellie’s boys could never keep a secret from her, and even through his military bravado Ellie could see the truth in Charles’ eyes. The initial wave of relief when her shot rang out, noting her safety, followed by a stunned sense of fear and panic. His eyes met her, the unspoken question broadcasted plainly in the crinkle of his brow, the way his lips pressed tight. Though he dared not speak aloud, Charles was all but begging for the truth.

Never one to let a dramatic moment go to waste, Ellie answered the questions of both men with a smirk. “What, you mean to imply your little firecracker did any actual damage? Hardly.” Charles’ shoulders relaxed just a fraction in response to Ellie’s answer, and her grin widened. “They’re a little caught up though, so I’m sure they won’t mind me having all the fun.”

The Right Hand Whatever’s smug expression only got smugger. Something sour coiled in Ellie’s gut, an alarm bell signaling trouble on the horizon, but despite her suspicions Ellie couldn’t back down. Not when all the chips were on the table, when Charles was clearly struggling on his injured leg. Not when her opponent clearly had an ace up his sleeve, while her cleverly disguised hand was an utter train wreck waiting to happen. All she could do was shore up her grin and keep her poker face strong.

For her Charles, who was hurt and scared and had a gun pointed at his face. For her Henry, who was trapped and alone and waiting for her to return. She needed to find out what this son of a bitch had planned.

“That right?” The Right Something or Other asked cheekily. “You should know something, girl. I was Right ‘and Man of the Toppat Clan. Second in command of the entire brigade. The enforcer to our leader’s brains. I ‘andled every threat that would ever cross ‘is desk.” His one hand, the one that had Charles’ arm in a death grip, began moving up, fingers dancing on Charles’ sleeve, until they reached his shoulders, where they tapped, tapped, tapped away. Ellie could see Charles’ brow wrinkle as he tried not to show his discomfort with the action. “I nevah missed a mark. Even when I did, I didn’t. Because I always, always ‘ad a backup plan.”

Ellie’s very mind went numb as a bone chilling dread set in.

And then, behind her, the pyramid exploded.

The force of the explosion was enough to very nearly knock Ellie off her feet. All she could bring herself to do was stare back at what remained of the ruins. Every thought in her head came to a grinding, crashing halt as she struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. Henry, her gemstone, her partner in crime, her best fucking friend was in there. Ellie left them there, and had promised to come back, and didn’t. And now they’re gone. She wanted to cry. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream.

All she could do was stand there and stare, like the idiot who’d let herself be betrayed all those years ago.

Charles did the reacting for her, calling out, “Henry!!” In a bone-chillingly horrified cry that, momentarily, drew Ellie out of her stupor. She spun back around just in time to see the Right Hand Man’s grip around Charles shift so that his arm was wrapped around their sweetheart’s throat, not quite tight enough to completely cut off air but tight enough to choke and hurt, and a new terror grew in her when she saw Charles struggling to break free. Their eyes met.

The hope that had ignited in Charles when Ellie had appeared was entirely gone now, replaced with a darkness Ellie couldn’t quite place in her normally optimistic partner. The tears in his eyes broke free every few seconds, leaving a scorching trail down his face. Ellie felt the sight trigger a burning in her own eyes and bit her lip to try and keep it in. She already knew that was a losing battle.

Then, Charles’ escape attempts redoubled as he shouted, “Shoot him!”

Stunned, Ellie’s eyes briefly darted to her gun, the sidearm she hadn’t lowered once throughout the entire exchange, before returning to Charles, “What?!”

“Shoot him!” Repeated the pilot. His lack of resistance to his captor so far, combined with his injury, must have left the Right Hand Murderer complacent, because he was genuinely struggling to get Charles under control again with only one arm, “Fucking kill him-! Make him pay, he can’t get away with this, he can’t-!”

“But-” Half of Ellie’s remaining strength was channeled into her hands, trying to prevent them from shaking. Her vision was too blurry with building tears to tell how successful she was, “I can’t- he’ll shoot you-” The Right Hand Monster’s weapon had been drawn away a little, but it was still pointed at Charles’ head. He could still very easily get a shot off before Ellie could finish pulling the trigger.

The utter rage in Charles’ voice only made Ellie’s shaking worse, “I don’t care, I don’t fucking care! He needs to die! He needs to suffer for what he did-!”

The murderer was yelling something at Charles, but it flew over Ellie’s head as she swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. Her eyes burned, her vision blurring so badly she could only barely tell her boyfriend apart from that monster. The pressure of all that had happened in the past two minutes began to crush her lungs, leaving her gasping for air.

Henry was dead. They were gone and dead because of that man, that monster who hurt her partners and if she were a better agent, a stronger person, she could take the shot, take him out and avenge her gemstone but- but Charles was right there. All it would take was one misfire, one mistake, one twitch of her shaking hands and then she’d have lost both her partners.

She couldn’t breath. Her lungs were burning, Every gulp of air she took only fed the fire, suffocating her faster in a smoky haze of grief and terror.

Then, for what must have been the fourth time that day, Ellie was blinded by light.

This burst of light, however, was far more short lived, only blinding the three for a few key seconds. Just long enough for Henry’s fist to collide with the Right Bastard’s face. He flew back from the force of it, head colliding with the trunk of a nearby tree. That accursed gun was launched into the distance and lost amongst the natural chaos of the rain forest. Ellie frantically wiped at her face, desperate to clear her clouded sight and prove this wasn’t a trick of the eyes.

Once she could see, Ellie was treated to a vision of absolute beauty. Her partner, her gemstone, standing tall and proud above the Right Hand Loser, breathing heavily. His one hand was balled into a fist. His other kept hold of a painfully familiar device, and the sight of it nearly brought Ellie to tears of laughter.

“Never bring the teleporter!” Henry scolded the old man with all the fierceness of the drill instructors Ellie overheard back at base. They tossed the offending device far off into the distance, utter disgust written on their face. “It always backfires!”

“Henry…!” Charles called out, having been knocked aside in the chaos. As Henry’s attention was directed to their partner, Ellie noted the Right Hand What’s His Face darting towards the jungle and immediately turned her gaze in his direction. Her hands still, her vision clear, Ellie aimed true and hit the hat clean off his head.

This knocked the Right Hand Bastard off balance, which gave Ellie just enough time to rush him with all the force she could muster. Compounded with the strength of her force power, it was more than enough to knock the monster off his feet and onto the ground.

Her follow-up blow was blocked by his elbow, and when their gazes met Ellie could feel the resentment in his sneer. There was something below the hate, below the anger that brought them to this point, but now that her two lovers were safe Ellie let the full force of her rage out, throwing her fists and her feet into the man’s body wherever she could manage. His arms, his stomach, his head, his legs… wherever her hits could land, they landed with precision and force. Ellie barely felt the blows she got back in return, the punches to her stomach and head and chest that she knew she’d feel tomorrow. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

All she cared about was unleashing her pain on this sick, sick bastard.

An explosion of force suddenly hit Ellie’s stomach, propelling her back and away from the target of her wrath. For a moment nausea and vertigo overwhelmed her, just enough that the Right Hand Man managed to get back on his feet and start hurriedly limping towards the jungle.

Gritting her teeth, Ellie twisted herself around to launch herself again, feeling the rocks on the ground dig into her palms, feeling the heat of the jungle sun on her back. She could leap like a lion, could tackle him to the ground and beat him bloody before he even knew what hit him-

“Ellie!”

Henry’s voice gave the once thief pause, and she turned her gaze around to see Henry sat on the ground, Charles’ limp form cradled in their arms. The sight of the bloody bandages hastily wrapped around his leg caused her stomach to start spinning all over again.

Cursing her own stupidity for letting the Right Hand Whatever distract her for so long, Ellie pushed herself up and limped over to help Henry. Looking her partner over, Ellie could tell Henry had escaped by the skin of their teeth yet again. Their clothes were filthy, covered in soot and damaged from the rocks. Their hands, wrapped around Charles and holding him close, were stained with blood. Ellie briefly wondered if all of it was Charles, then immediately shut that thought down. She couldn’t handle any more worries right now.

Henry’s mouth opened and shut in a few false starts as their overly stressed brain struggled to put words in their mouth. Eventually they managed to spit out, “Help. For Charles.”

“Help for Charles.” Ellie agreed. Hopefully Henry remembered more from Charles’ on the fly piloting lessons than she did, because otherwise it was going to be a very long, very dangerous flight back.

--------------------

Ellie awoke to fingers at her face, pushing in her cheeks. Not forceful enough to hurt, but definitely enough to be annoying.

“Henry?” She grumbled, clumsily pushing their hand away from her. Despite their mutual agreement to get some sleep while their partner was being treated, Henry barely looked any better. They’d changed clothes at least, wearing some cheap t-shirt and sweatpants that the hospital had kindly provided, but dark shadows still highlighted their eyes.

But there was a shiny happiness in those ruby red orbs that brought any complaints Ellie had to a grinding halt. Their hands, stiff from soreness, moved slower than normal as they signed to her, “Charles is awake.”

That woke her up more thoroughly than any coffee could have.

Sure enough, sitting up on the bed at the end of the room was their pilot, their sweethearted ray of sunshine, who was too focused on picking the crust off his provided sandwich to notice the two approach at first. But Ellie could see the moment he spotted them, how his excited grin grew so wide it brightened the entire room.

“Yo, Els!” Charles greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I should be asking you that.” She responded, keeping her tone light and playful despite the nerves wriggling within her. “Are you alright? Are you hurting anywhere?”

“Don’t worry, they got me hooked up on some good stuff.” Charles assured her, then hesitated, and something in Ellie went cold. Was something wrong? Had she missed something snoozing away?

Before her thoughts could get away from her, a warmth enveloped Ellie’s hand as Charles took it in his own. The light in his eyes was dim, morose, and it only made her want to hold him tight and never let go. The urge to follow up on that impulse, however, was halted by a single pair of words.

“I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Ellie hadn't been sure she’d heard him right. “You’re… sorry?” At his affirmative nod, she asked, “Sorry for what?” A thought occurred to her, and Ellie scowled, “If you’re blaming yourself for getting shot-”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Charles paused a second, “I mean, I should have been paying more attention-” Whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a light jab from Henry’s elbow into his side “Ah!” He shot a glance at Henry, who merely stared back at him, silent, expressionless. With a sigh, Charles proceeded along his original train of thought. “But I’m talking about what happened when- when Henry-” The words seemed to get caught in Charles throat, so again he redirected, “Uh, when the pyramid blew up, I said some… really aggressive things.”

Ellie forced her face into something neutral. She knew what Charles was talking about. She was trying not to dwell on it, on that unfamiliar rage in his eyes, on the sickening feeling that she was going to lose everything in one single, horrible day. If she looked as bad as she felt even remembering that moment, Ellie was certain she’d only make Charles feel worse.

But her skill at maintaining a poker face must have been out of practice, because Ellie could see the hurt in his eyes anyways.

“And- And I know I made you feel awful. I’m so sorry.” Charles buried his face in his hands and leaned back, allowing Henry to hold him as he continued. “I was just so mad… I thought Henry was- was gone, and I thought it was his fault, and- and- I just wanted him to pay for it. I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as he suffered. But- but that wasn’t fair to you.” Charles sighed, and Henry’s fingers began coming through his hair soothingly. “I’m really, really sorry, Els.”

Ellie exhaled deeply, feeling the tension in her body begin to relax a little. “I get it.” She said, approaching Charles’ bedside and sitting next to him. Curled up into Henry’s side, Charles looked incredibly small, and it made her heart leap. Ellie slipped her hand onto Charles’ knee, rubbing it comfortingly. “When the pyramid exploded, and Henry was still inside… I was angry too. I still am.” Ellie looked down at her bruised knuckles. She wondered if she’d managed to hurt that insufferable bastard. She hoped so. “If I thought for a second he’d have been the only one hurt, I would’ve taken the shot. Hell, if I were in your place…” Ellie could feel Charles’ muscles tense under her hand at the mere thought, and leaned over to lay her head on his shoulder. “I’d have probably done the same thing.”

“Are you sure?” Charles asked, uncertain. “Because you’re supposed to be smarter than me. You remember that, right?”

Henry snorted, drawing both of their attention upward. “If you thought that explosion could take me down,” They signed, grinning smugly, “Then both of you are idiots.”

“Rude.” Ellie snapped back with no bite. One of Charles’ hands came to rest on hers, and she brushed their fingers gently together, hoping the sensation was as soothing to Charles as it was to her. Judging from the pleasant sigh her partner let out, she was right on the money. On Charles’ other side, Henry had taken a seat on the bed and seemed content to have Charles’ weight pressed into their own, eyes a shimmer with fondness as Charles nuzzled into their side.

All was peaceful. All was calm. So, naturally, the government had to step in to ruin it.

More precisely, a small procession of soldiers came through the door with barely an announcement, causing the Triple Threat to scramble to attention, practically throwing themselves away from each other to sit up straight and look semi-professional. They inspected each corner of the room, clearing it inch by inch, before lining up at the doorway and saluting professionally.

When Galeforce walked into the room and dismissed the procession to play guard in the hall, Ellie felt her muscles all simultaneously slump into an awkward half-laying, half-sitting position. She was so done with surprises today. Any more and her heart would burst, Ellie was sure of it.

Once they were alone, Galeforce quickly reached their bedside with long, purposeful strides. “I’d just gotten word through my contacts that you’d been rushed in with a gun wound. Glad to see you’re all alright,” The old man admitted, an unusual softness in his voice. When working, Galeforce endeavored to remain professional in his interactions with his men, but it was not much of a secret that he had a weakness for the little orphan pilot that could. His attention turned to Henry and Ellie, both now recovered enough to sit casually by Charles’ side. “But what happened? I didn’t receive any reports of organized criminal activity in this area- at least, not anyone who would’ve known who you three are.”

“Toppat scum.” Henry signed at their commander. Just those two words had them looking like they’d swallowed something sour.

Galeforce’s sign language skills weren’t quite at Charles and Ellie’s level, but he recognized at least the important word and his shoulders went rigged. “Dammit.” Swore the general. “You all have my sincerest apologies. I should have warned you sooner.”

“Warned us?” Ellie asked, her tone sharpening at the implications.

The General sighed heavily, barely managing to keep his shoulders square with the weight of his guilt on his back. “Just after your vacation started, I’d gotten word that the leader of the Toppat Clan, Reginald Copperbottom, had been assassinated in prison.”

Ellie felt her eyes go wide, and she could feel Charles stiffen in surprise as well. Glancing across the hospital bed at Henry, Ellie found them staring up at the general aimlessly. She’d seen this lost look in their eyes before, when they were gazing into futures that would never happen, and wondered, not for the first time, how they managed with such a heavy burden on their shoulders. Seeing the future was a curse Henry bore mostly with silence, but her and Charles had been learning to pick up on the cues. Ellie’s arm wrapped around Charles, gripping Henry’s hand with just enough strength to anchor them to the present, and a moment later she felt them squeeze it back in recognition.

They’d explain later, most likely. For now, though, the General’s explanation kept their attention.

“Some prison guard had a family history with one of the chief’s predecessors. I won’t bore you with the details.” Galeforce sat on the empty bed nearby, leaning forward with his hands folded in front of his face. “But that very same night Reginald’s Right Hand Man, the second in command of the entire clan, escaped from prison. We’re still not sure how he even knew about Reginald’s death, but he managed to kill the assassin and grab his leader’s corpse on the way out. I thought he’d be more focused on resurrecting the clan than anything else, and with your vacation being out of the country, I decided to bring you into the loop once you got back.” Regret and frustration shone in the General’s eyes as he spoke, his gaze downcast to avoid looking at any of the trio. “I have no idea how he even managed to find you three, let alone pull off something like this. He has nothing; no resources, no allies, not even a penny to his name. I didn’t think-” The old man sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t know how I can even begin making this up to you.”

Ellie took a moment to breath. Her first reaction was the familiar sting of hurt and betrayal, and at one point she may have gotten up in Galeforce’s face to really give him a piece of her mind. Years of unconditional support from her partners, however, gave her the patience to wait out that initial wave and follow up with a much more logical response of understanding. They were on vacation, out in the middle of nowhere with minimal ways to track them down. It wouldn’t have occurred to Galeforce that the bastard would even know where they are, let actually finding them and making them suffer. It would have been nice to have warning, but at the end of the day it wasn’t really his fault.

Henry stared off into space, their eyes clouded with conflict as they struggled between the frustration they were no doubt riddled with and the same logical conclusion Ellie came to. Charles sat slumped in the hospital bed, gazing down as he fiddled his thumbs. Charles had known Galeforce longer than either of them, and the bond of trust they’d built as subordinate and commander was hard to break, but she had no doubt her sweetheart was still upset.

So Ellie took the lead, smiling cheekily at the General, “Well, a few more weeks of vacation would be nice.”

Two pairs of eyes instantly hit the back of Ellie’s head, and she struggled not to turn around and face them. But hearing Ellie let the General off easy must have helped them make up their minds, because soon she felt Charles leaning against her back, his smile tickling the skin on her shoulder as he agreed, “And maybe a bit of overtime? I mean, we did technically face off against an enemy of the state…”

Galeforce chuckled at their responses, the weight on his shoulders lightening up bit by bit. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Henry pushed away from the wall, drawing enough attention to them so they could sign, “I can come up with a trap for the guy.” Their signing was more fluid, more playfully bouncy, and Ellie felt a little more of her worry edge away, “All we need is a few miles of rope, a pool of pudding, the Tunisian Diamond…”

“Now you’re pushing it.” The General joked back, standing with a smile. He seemed lighter on his feet than when he first entered. “I’ll arrange for transport back to base once Charlie is feeling a little better, and you’ll be under guard until further notice. For now, though, just focus on getting some rest. We’ve got protection duty taken care of.” The General began walking back towards the door, only to pause and look back, tipping his hat. “Oh. And happy anniversary.”

Silence rang loudly between them as Galeforce stepped out, quietly opening and closing the door behind him. The moment hung in the air and stretched the seconds into hours.

Finally, at last, Charles broke through the quiet with his usual blunt charm, clumsily destroying the remaining tension in the air with his joking snort. “Some anniversary.” He declared, crossing his arms. “We almost died, an ancient marvel of the lost world got blown up, and we have nothing to show for it!” He huffed, pouted, and then loudly declared, “Whoever planned this trip deserves to get shot.”

And despite all of it, Ellie couldn’t help but burst into laughs.

“It is a shame,” She agreed, wistfully recounting the weight of the amethyst in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Henry stand, but paid them no mind for the moment. “Still, up until that Toppat clown showed up it was pretty fun.”

“Yeah.” Charles agreed. “Like when you swung over those traps to pull our sorry butts out of the fire? Heh, that was pretty cool.” The stars shimmering in his eyes suggested he remembered the event being way more than cool, and Ellie couldn’t help but puff up a little in pride. It hadn’t been hard – she’d done way crazier back in her criminal days – but something about Charles’ earnest, enthusiastic reactions made her feel like the tallest person in the world. Henry (standing weirdly close, with a weird grin spread across their face) called him their sunshine for a reason, and as much as the two liked to tease them about their choice of nicknames, Ellie had to admit they were right on the money with that one.

“Or how you created a path of freakin’ bouncy balls to get across that weird spike pit.” Ellie recounted. At the time she’d felt her blood pressure spike with each bounce, but now, in hindsight, it had been both impressive and hilarious.

Charles laughed along, as full and bright as himself, and nodded eagerly. “Or- or how Henry broke out into a random dance and that somehow opened the way to the real tomb?” The memory of their dance across the false burial site only caused Ellie to laugh harder, a deep blush growing across her face. How could she have ever wanted to be a serious criminal, when being silly with these two idiots was so much more fun?

The fluttering laughter came to a slow halt as Ellie suddenly noticed Henry’s arms outstretched between her and Charles. More specifically, the gigantic purple gem nestled in their hands, reflecting the harsh light of the hospital to shine brighter than it had in the dim catacombs of the tomb. Ellie’s eyes trailed up Henry’s arms, across their shoulder, all the way up to that stupid smug grin on their face.

The cheeky bastard. When had they even had time to grab that thing?

“You clever little sneak!” Charles yelled out, recovering from the shock of seeing their hard won prize much faster than Ellie. His arms reached out, grabbing for his two partners, and Ellie and Henry reached back without hesitation. Any thought of the Right Hand Whatever, of the dangers past and dangers to come, of anything that could stand in the way of the Triple Threat floated to the very edge of Ellie’s mind, leaving her clear to focus on what was really important.

As far as anniversaries went, Ellie supposed this could have gone a lot worse.

--------------------

As the sun set over the city, a single man sat on a lone rooftop. His gaze was as piercing as the setting sun, matching it’s blinding glare with equal fierceness.

Feh, of course they bloody survived. Nothing could go right for the prior Right Hand Man lately.

Unwilling to let himself drown in his thoughts, the once Right Hand Man removed a crumpled piece of paper from his inventory, directing his ire down at the paper as if it was what had offended him, and not the myriad of names listed upon it.

Dozens upon dozens of people would have found their names upon that list. A small number were crossed out. A worthless avenger, a couple of gossiping jail guards, an old judge with a bad hair cut; a mere handful, compared to the number of names remaining. A thief, a pilot, and, more recently, an ex-gang runner. A general, his personal guard, a witness pulled from the airship’s brig. Turncoats and traitors to the clan, selling out their brothers for a scrap of leniency. Anyone and everyone even remotely involved in the fall of the Toppat Clan and the death of it’s leader were listed on this single scrap of paper.

“Don’ you worry a bit, Reg.” Murmured the enforcer, running his finger down the list like he was running a knife across some traitor’s skin. “I’ll make ‘em pay. Every last one of ‘em fuckers ‘at destroyed our clan. ‘Ey’ll all pay for wot they did. And once ‘ey do…”

His finger finally paused on the list’s final name, the ultimate victim of his revenge spree. The one who’s failure had lead to the destruction of everything the once Right Hand Man held dear.

“...I’ll be comin’ for ya, Reg. Save a spot in ‘ell fer me, would ya?”

--------------------

Aw, yes! More Polythreat!

I'm sorry for kind of being AWOL. I've been active on Tumblr, but was afflicted with some nasty writer's block. It took me a whole year to write this, believe it or not. I'd hoped to get it done by my birthday, but I'm just happy to have it done. Merry Christmas, everybody!

The events surrounding RHM and Reginald are depicted in a comic here on my tumblr: Atychiphobia - Fear of Failure. You can probably find it pretty easily. Neither RHM nor Copperright have been tagged, though. To preserve the surprise. Tags do kind of give away something going down, but it happens.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully I'll come up with something else to write soon.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 14

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

It felt like it didn’t take more than a few hours for you to make it deep into the woods surrounding the city, remembering the paths your mother used to take you on up into the mountains. You let your hands pass over the bark of trees that had grown so much taller since you last had seen them, the canopy above casting green shadows down onto the forest floor as the entirety of the world seemed to wash over you. You walked with a new clarity, a new sense of purpose, thanking the Mother silently that you hadn’t had to explain more to the Night Court about your own affairs. You were free. You were far from the cabin in the woods, healed, refueled and ready to move on. 

You continued walking, until you came upon a clearing through the trees, looking down onto the quiet city that was slowly rising to life. You felt a slight pang of guilt as you looked across, the House of Wind stuck into the side of the mountain, glimmering in the morning light. You hadn’t said goodbye to Elain, Nesta, or Feyre. And while you knew they wouldn’t be upset at your lack of manners, you still felt a sense of responsibility. 

You wondered what would become of that great family, who had taken you in without question, allowing you to eat their food, sleep in their beds and care for you when you were wounded. They were rulers, diplomats, fae in positions of power, and yet for that week they had been your nurses. You wished them the best and turned back to the deep green wood. 

There was no set path to follow, no destination in sight. You allowed yourself to wander freely, allowing your feet to guide you. Birds, singing out their early morning songs chattered in the treetops, a counterpoint to the crunch of your footsteps. You felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, each step deeper was a step farther from the worry and constraint of the world. The dense foliage seemed to absorb your anxiety, replacing them with a profound sense of serenity as you imagined running through the bushes with your mother in hot pursuit, a smile on both your faces with sweat pouring from your brow but without care, giggles echoing through the trees. Your fingers brushed over the rough bark of the ancient oaks and wondered if your mother had touched the same. 

The woods grew more alive with subtle sounds of the world waking up - the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush and the murmur of a hidden stream. 

You came upon a large meadow, the spring flowers a riot of colors as you perched upon a large boulder, the moss soft under your boots and fingers as you breathed in the air around you. Your mind was quiet and content, and the world was yours. 

________________________________________________________

It felt like it didn’t take more than a few hours for you to make it deep into the woods surrounding the city, retracing the paths your mother used to take you on up into the mountains. Your hands brushed over the bark of trees that had grown so much taller since you last saw them. The canopy above cast green shadows onto the forest floor, and the entirety of the world seemed to wash over you. You walked with a new clarity, a new sense of purpose, silently thanking the Mother that you hadn’t had to explain more to the Night Court about your affairs. You were free. You were far from the cabin in the woods, healed, refueled, and ready to move on.

You continued walking until you came upon a clearing through the trees, looking down onto the quiet city that was slowly rising to life. You felt a slight pang of guilt as you gazed across at the House of Wind, stuck into the side of the mountain, glimmering in the morning light. You hadn’t said goodbye to Elain, Nesta, or Feyre. And while you knew they wouldn’t be upset at your lack of manners, you still felt a sense of guilt. You wondered what would become of that great family, who had taken you in without question, allowing you to eat their food, sleep in their beds, and care for you when you were wounded. They were rulers, diplomats, fae in positions of power, and yet for that week, they had been your nurses. You wished them the best and turned back to the deep green wood.

There was no set path to follow, no destination in sight. You allowed yourself to wander freely, letting your feet guide you. Birds sang their early morning songs, chattering in the treetops, a counterpoint to the crunch of your footsteps. The weight of the world lifted from your shoulders with each step deeper into the forest, the dense foliage absorbing your anxiety and replacing it with a profound sense of serenity. You imagined running through the bushes with your mother in hot pursuit, both of you smiling, sweat pouring from your brow but without care, giggles echoing through the trees. Your fingers brushed over the rough bark of the ancient oaks, wondering if your mother had touched the same.

The woods grew more alive with subtle sounds of the world waking up—the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush and the murmur of a hidden stream. You came upon a large meadow, the spring flowers a riot of colors. Perching upon a large boulder, you let your fingers run over the soft moss and breathed in the crisp, fresh air around you. Your mind was quiet and content, and the world felt like it was yours.

A few days and nights of wandering passed without meeting anyone on the way. You sustained yourself on the meals packed for you, sheltered in the tent lovingly provided in the rucksack. You had no issue making your way over the mountain, down the other side, and deeper into the wilderness of the Night Court. On the third day, you found what looked like a path through the woods, long untended but remembered by the underbrush. You followed it and, among the pines and oaks, discovered what looked to be an abandoned cabin. Its windows were missing glass, the door was off its hinges, and the roof had missing slats, covered in moss as the forest reclaimed its property. You made your way around the perimeter, checking for signs of life, and seeing nothing but long-abandoned pots, pans, and furniture.

Attached to the side of the cabin was a small greenhouse with many panes of windows shattered, the tin roof rusted, but small plants still thriving within. You made your way inside, the light of the afternoon shining through cobwebs. The floor was torn apart, with boards arching under the dampness of the forest. It was one room, with a ladder leading to a lofted bed. The curtains, frayed and tattered, fluttered in the breeze as you took a few creaking steps in. The wood stove, perched in the back corner, was rusted over but still looked usable. On the wall, a single desk or kitchen table held various cups and plates left out, and a single candle sat in the center as though someone might be coming back for dinner. But from the layer of dirt lain on the table, you doubted anyone had dined here in many years. The back wall was lined with shelves, crusted over with dust and dirt. You ran your hand over the pans left behind, books heavy and rippling from rain, pages stuck together. Oil lamps lined the walls and seemed to still hold fluid. You dropped your rucksack and clambered up the rickety ladder to see the old, dirty mattress lying on the upper loft with a lamp next to it, the blanket old and rotten.

When you dropped back down to the floor, you gazed around the room. It was broken, worn down, neglected, and yet it seemed to yearn to be lived in. Perhaps it could be home.

You left your pack in the cabin, wandering outside to take in the surroundings. Planting beds needed tending, but the soil was rich. About fifty paces into the woods was a babbling creek with clean water. You decided that for the time being, this would be as good a home as any other.

You spent the next few days cleaning out the cabin. You formed a makeshift broom by collecting old, dried weeds from the creek and securing them to a broken branch, tying them together with a braided cord you found on the shelves. You swept out the dirt and grime, taking care to clear the cobwebs from the rafters and windows. You ripped the rotten boards from the floor, replacing them with bundles of sticks for the time being. You pulled out the old mattress, cutting pieces of it for tinder. You scaled the rooftop, surveying the rotten pieces and laid down brush and moss to patch the holes. It leaked less but still allowed a steady drip when it rained. You cleared the chimney of the stove, finding a rather unhappy squirrel family living within but managed to get it working after an afternoon of sweating and swearing. You tended to the garden and greenhouse, pulling out weeds and turning over the dirt. You saved the seeds of the fruits and vegetables packed for you, pressing them in a piece of wet cloth and planting those that would survive the heat of summer.

Sleep still came in bouts. If you slept with any sort of awareness, your mate still wormed his way in, so you often spent nights tinkering with the oil lamps, working into the early mornings as you tried to mend the curtains with old fabric scraps from around the cabin. Only when you reached exhaustion and seemed to fall asleep from mere necessity, when you slept with a depth of death, did you sleep without his interference. Even then, when it seemed you regained a sense of consciousness, you awakened yourself.

You had found father down the creek a large lake in a clearing and you felt comfortable enough to strip down and bathe in the water, allowing it’s cold temperature to soothe you as you cleansed yourself of the grime of the days.

Within the garden, you collected various stones and etched into one of them, “Anthea. Your escape was worth it.” You laid it among blooming purple flowers that you couldn’t identify. 

As you settled into this new routine, you found a sense of peace and purpose. The world around you was wild and untamed, yet it felt like home. 

My lovely tagged readers: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

(Yandere) Marc Spector headcanons part 2

Whenever you're walking alone Marc always silently follows you, making sure you reach your destination safely.

He's (over)protective, if he heard about something has happened near them or at the city you two are in he will insist that you stay with him until it's safe.

Marc let's you train with his guns, knives, whatever you're fancy with. But he will unload every single bullet so you won't accidentally hurt yourself. Your safety has top priority after all. :)

Marc knows he's scary if he wants to be, which makes it alot easier to protect you. If you two take a walk together nobody would be stupid enough to pick up a fight with him.

He is your one man army. :)

If someone chooses to pick up on you he will gently shove you out of the way and deal with that rude Person.

"Honey, do me a favor and go buy yourself a drink." *slips money into your hand* "I'll teach that prick you're mine."

If someone had hurt you he will go on a hunt for them 100 times more determined than John Wick himself.

He's stubborn sometimes, so he will likely not admit it that seeing you around other men will make him jealous.

Loves having you near him. <3

He thinks he doesn't deserve you, but on the other side his obsession with you kind of blinds him and he thinks he does. He's a mixed bag I guess?

You're a gamer?? Marc is too and he's played almost every triple A game before you. He knows he could easily crush you in some rounds but he let's you win sometimes, only to beat you again the next round. :)

Whenever Marc's on a mission he will triple-check the house/apartment to ensure the security is enabled before leaving.

If Khonshu says something about you Marc will tell that old pigeon to shut up immediately.

"You know if you wouldn't be thinking about y/n the whole time you'd be--"

"Shut it old bird, who's doing the Mission? You or me?"

Once Marc is back from his missions you better be prepared for some cuddles.

If he finds you dozed off on the couch or his bed he will tuck you in and give you company.

Marc may look like a tough to crack guy but with you he is the sweetest, most caring, protective guy you could ever wish for.

Loves watching action movies with you. One night you two were watching Deadpool and you compared him to Marc. Marc said he could beat him easily.

"Looking forward to you two dishing out insults at eachother, haha!"

"Atleast I'm not looking like a cheap version of Freddy Krueger. He looks like the offspring of Freddy Krueger and Pinhead after they had the most sadistic orgy ever in hell."

*Your jaw drops and you give him the most flabbergasted look*

*Marc just grins at you like the cheshire cat himself*

Marc doesn't tell you, but he likes it when you tease him. That just gives him a reason to get his revenge on you later. >:)

He loves telling you how safe only he could make you feel, how nobody else could protect you as he could. That's kind of a turn on for him...

[cvlutos]

"FOUND"

✦ | Posted: 03.06.2022 | WC: 1.2K | Rating: Mature |

✦ | Rook Hunt X GN!Reader | {Howl's Moving Castle Inspired}

✦ | Characters 18+ | Fluff | Poetic | Confessions | Smut | Loving | Forbidden Relationship | French Lang. | Etc | Proceed with Caution, my love.

✦ | Synopsis: A strange man appeared upon your balcony only uttering that he's found you.

✦ | Notes: To the lovely @pinkskytwst & @v-anrouge |

“You must be quiet.”

A gently frosty wind blows through the trees, gently wrapping around your form and pulling you deeper into the untravelled woods. Your hand tightly and gently entwined with the man before you as he leads you. Easily navigating through the moonlit forests, knowing every turn, dip, and curve. Knowing where every branches laid, where every fallen log rested. And if you asked—he could utter into your ear where every bird built it's nest and where every bunny hid.

You hear the distant call of your name, demanding you return, yet the tugging of your hand and the gently kisses upon your knuckles reminds you why you left to begin with. Dressed still in your pajamas, clinging onto a cloak you randomly grab in a hurry of frantic kisses and giggles as you planned to leave for the night. Even if you'd be in a world of trouble when you returned.

You shouldn't be with him, you shouldn't be following him—holding his hands as he whispers in your ear to be careful, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. Feeling every leaf and twig crunch beneath your steps. You feel a flurry of emotions, a flurry of desires you once thought impossible for you to feel until you met him. Standing up on your balcony, only a darkened outline as he offered a hand. You were afraid, scared of this man—this stranger who only spoke in gently riddles and rhymes—speaking only in a language you couldn't understand. “Je t'ai enfin trouvé.” His voice a gently whisper like the night wind. Soon fear turning into curiosity, who is he?

Why is he here?

He's not familiar, with bright green eyes and blonde hair often pulled into a ponytail as a brown hat sits up on his head with a pristine white feather. Dressed in clothes that you're sure aren't from here, not your little town, he's different.

And you like it.

“Once again you are swept away by your thoughts, my love.” His gloves hand gently caresses your face, his thumb gently brushing over you bottom lip, bring your gaze to him. He has a small smile, eyes staring down at you curiously, his earring peeking through his hair of blonde. “It happens often, I wish to know what captivates your mind so.”

“I was thinking about alot of things—like why you appeared upon my balcony.”

His lips curl and he places a gently kiss to your forehead, “Why does the sun rise in the east and not the west? It is merely destined to be.” He tilts your chin upward, pressing a chaste kiss to the bridge of your nose.

Destiny. Fate. Like forever entwining strings that lures and lures, brings two together with such a unshakable hold that any and all should and shall succumb. And you will. You know you will, nor shall you deny such.

As he leads you to a clearing. One of full moon and full stars, perfectly hidden from world view. The grass ticking the bareness of your ankles and legs, shaking the trees leaves in a gently like melody, that dances around you as your hands hold his shoulders, facing the man before you fully and dancing. He hums into your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Swaying—dancing with slow tiny steps. “My love…” A mummer, his hands dragging over your waist, thumbs gently pressing into your sides, silently undoing the string of your cloak, his lips gently pressing against yours, grazing with half lidded eyes.

The large piece of fabric flutters to the ground, his hands cupping your face as he gently lowers your body to the ground. “Oh, comme je te désire…” He whispers into your skin, carefully removing his clothing and discarding it ascending, pressing a flurry a tender kisses along you neck and collar, warm hands exploring the expansion of your bare skin.

Listening intently to every breath and sigh, feeling every shuddering of your skin, stuttering breath. Groaning at the merely feeling of your nails dragging along his back, feeling your breath fan against his shoulder and neck, clinging onto him. His hand slipping between your thighs, his lips pressing against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips. His thumb gently swipes at the corner of your lips, collecting any saliva that threatens to slip past.

“J'ai envie de vous tous.”

Words that you don't understand, words that drip of his lips like sweetened honey, that has you losing your very breathe, back arching, and hands blindly—desperately clinging onto the man above you. The wind cool against your naked form, him drawing you closer to the very edge, to th very point in which all lead to this moment. This moment that has you choking, crying out in utter bliss has your juices coat his hands, making a mess upon your skin. That he without hesitation licks up.

Destiny lead you to this moment, to this man above you, face flushed red, green eyes half lidded, and gently sliding between your legs. All written and designed—beyond your control and yes, you should feel like that of a puppet, with no control. But—

“Je vous aime.”

Feeling him fill you, face burden within your neck, breathless, as he holds you. Who are you to deny such a gift fate has given you, that fate has lead to your balcony, that has lead him between your thighs, to gently love your body more than anything else? What are such odds? Such a chance beneath thousands of stars and a moon that looks aside shyly. Nails digging into flesh, hips melting and molding together. Pieces that fit so perfectly. You feel him shudder against your, desperately holding onto you.

“My love—my love—my love…” He repeats, chanting it like a prayer, afraid that it'll go unheard. Emerald green dazed eyes staring at you in pure, utter love.

Love.

Which is your very winding and very undoing, your arms desperately wrapping around his neck, pressing your forehead against his. Eyes struggling to remain open as pleasure ran along you spine, every fiber of your being. You love him, your voice feels hoarse as whines, whimpers, cries lips past shamelessly, each sound he adores.

Adoration.

He lets out a hot high-pitch gasp the molds into a whine, his thrust slowly turning sloppy and uncoordinated, juices mixing and splattering across his thighs and your skin. His hands entwining with yours longingly. Your body rocks with his, feeling him push his cum deeper, clenching his teeth, forehead pushing against yours, eyes watching the sloppy mess, as your legs rest on his hips. “Rook—” You mummer his eyes name, his hips snapping against yours, forcing a moan from your lips, your body tensing and back arching, shots of pleasure taking over you and for a moment blindly. You watch his eyes widen, letting out a hot exhale.

“Mon nom... Vous vous êtes souvenu de mon nom…” His hands move to gently cup your face, thumbs swiping gently over your cheeks. “My name…. I thought you had forgotten…” There's sudden fondness that seems more apparent before, more than little glimpses that disappears just as fast as you saw it. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his hair ticking your face gently.

“… Forgotten…?”

“Je t'ai enfin trouvé.. It means I've found you. Finally found you.”

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[juliussilver25]

Silver Odyssey: Andronia Assimilation Begins

For backstory: https://www.tumblr.com/juliussilver25/764908414910578688?source=share

On the planet Andronia, the early morning sun filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The roar of a truck's engine broke the morning's serenity as Colton, Carson, and Clayton maneuvered their mud-caked pickup through the winding jungle paths. The truck's tires churned up the soggy earth, sending a spray of mud into the air as it barreled down the trail.

Colton, the eldest of the triplets by a mere ten minutes, was at the wheel. His ginger hair peeked out from under a worn baseball cap, and his piercing green eyes were focused on the rough path ahead. Known for his practicality and leadership, Colton was the one who always ensured they had everything they needed for their expeditions.

Beside him, Carson, the middle triplet, leaned out of the window, whooping with excitement as they hit a particularly large puddle. Carson's sense of humor and easygoing nature made him the joker of the trio, always ready with a witty remark to lighten the mood. His ginger hair was a wild mop under his cap, and his freckled face was split by a wide grin.

In the back seat, Clayton, the youngest, clutched his fishing gear and a rifle. He was the dreamer, often coming up with the craziest ideas for their next adventure. Clayton's ginger hair was a little longer than his brothers', giving him a slightly untamed look. His bright blue eyes sparkled with anticipation for the day's hunting and fishing trip.

The triplets were clad in their usual attire: plaid shirts, jeans, and sturdy boots, practical for their rugged lifestyle. They loved nothing more than to escape into the wilderness, hunting, fishing, and simply enjoying the great outdoors. The truck, their faithful companion, was a battered but reliable vehicle, always ready for their next escapade.

As they plunged deeper into the jungle, the sounds of the forest enveloped them—birds calling, leaves rustling, and the distant trickle of a stream. The triplets' destination was a secluded spot they had discovered years ago, perfect for both hunting and fishing. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could escape the everyday humdrum and connect with nature.

Colton eased the truck to a stop at the edge of a clearing. "Alright, boys, let's get to it," he said, jumping out of the truck and stretching. Carson and Clayton followed suit, unloading their gear with practiced efficiency.

"Think we'll catch anything big today?" Carson asked, slinging his fishing rod over his shoulder.

"Only if you manage to stay quiet for once," Colton teased, grinning.

Clayton looked out at the dense foliage with a twinkle in his eye. "I have a feeling today’s going to be interesting."

With their gear in hand and spirits high, the triplets set off on foot, ready for another adventure in the heart of the jungle.

The sun was high in the sky, and the gentle sound of the brook, along with the occasional rustle of leaves, created a peaceful ambiance. They had already caught a few fish, and their cooler was starting to fill up.

Colton decided to stretch his legs. "I'm going for a walk, guys. I'll be back soon," he said, getting up and brushing off his jeans.

"Don't get lost, bro!" Carson called out with a grin, his eyes still fixed on his fishing line.

"Yeah, and bring back more beer!" Clayton added, casting his line once more.

Colton waved them off with a chuckle and began his walk into the dense jungle. The undergrowth was thick, and he had to push aside branches and vines as he made his way through. The air was cooler under the canopy, and he relished the quiet solitude of the forest.

He had been walking for a while when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. It was a faint glimmer, almost hidden behind a thick curtain of vines.

Curious, Colton approached the spot and carefully pushed the vines aside. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

There, hidden behind the foliage, was the entrance to a cave. The walls of the cave seemed to shimmer with a strange, almost otherworldly light. Intrigued, Colton took a step closer, peering into the darkness beyond the cave's mouth. The light seemed to be coming from deeper within, casting an eerie glow that danced off the rocky walls.

"I know this jungle like the back of my hands and have never seen this before," Colton muttered to himself, excitement and apprehension bubbling up inside him. He hesitated for a moment, considering whether to go back and fetch his brothers. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to venture a little further in, just to see what was causing the mysterious light.

With cautious steps, Colton entered the cave, the light growing brighter with each step he took. The air inside was cool and still, a stark contrast to the humid jungle outside. As Colton ventured deeper into the cave, he began to notice that the walls around him were not entirely natural. The initial rough, jagged surfaces of the cave gradually gave way to something more intricate and unusual.

The upper portions of the cave walls were formed of rugged stone, their surfaces dotted with natural formations of stalactites and stalagmites. These natural features gleamed faintly in the strange light, giving the cave an almost mystical ambiance. The rock was cool to the touch, and small, shimmering crystals embedded within the stone reflected the light in myriad colors.

However, as his eyes traveled downward, Colton saw that the lower portions of the walls were distinctly different. Here, the stone was smoother and more uniform, as if it had been carefully carved and polished by human hands. The surface was lined with intricate spiral patterns, some of which seemed to pulse faintly with an inner light.

The spirals varied in size and complexity, some simple and small, others large and elaborate. As Colton ran his fingers over them, he could feel the fine workmanship. The carvings seemed to twist and turn endlessly, drawing the eye inward as if inviting the viewer to get lost in their intricate design. These patterns were mesmerizing, almost hypnotic in their perfect symmetry.

In certain spots, the walls seemed to be embedded with metallic elements that caught and reflected the light. These metals glowed with an unearthly luminescence, enhancing the cave's mysterious allure. Colton wondered what purpose these elements served—were they purely decorative, or did they hold some deeper meaning or function?

As he continued deeper into the cave, the transformation of the surroundings became more pronounced. The rugged, natural stone was now completely replaced by smooth, gleaming silver surfaces. The walls, floor, and even the ceiling were all made of the same shiny, metallic material, reflecting the strange, pulsing light that filled the space.

The further he went, the more the cave began to resemble a factory or some sort of advanced facility. He could see rows of what looked like workstations lined up along the sides of a wide corridor, each equipped with various tools and instruments, the purpose of which he couldn't quite decipher. The air had a faint hum, as if powered by unseen machinery working tirelessly in the background.

The intricate spiral patterns that had decorated the cave walls earlier were now incorporated into the design of the factory, etched into the silver surfaces with precision. These spirals seemed to pulse with a rhythmic energy, drawing Colton's gaze and compelling him to move deeper into the facility.

Colton's heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement. He had never seen anything like this before. It was as if he had stepped into a different world, one that was far beyond his understanding.

As he walked, he noticed several large, cylindrical tanks filled with a shimmering, silvery liquid. The tanks were connected by a series of pipes and conduits that snaked through the facility like veins, carrying the liquid to different parts of the factory. The liquid glowed with an otherworldly light, casting eerie reflections on the walls.

"Wow," Colton whispered to himself, his voice echoing slightly in the vast, metallic chamber. He couldn't wait to tell his brothers about this incredible discovery. But first, he needed to explore just a little more, driven by an insatiable curiosity.

As Colton ventured further into the silvery depths of the cave-turned-factory, his boots made soft clanging noises against the metallic floor. Despite his efforts to tread quietly, the sound echoed through the otherwise silent expanse.

Suddenly, Colton’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed a figure at one of the workstations. The man was clad entirely in a silver jumpsuit that seemed to blend seamlessly with the surroundings. The stranger looked up, a hint of curiosity and warmth in his eyes.

"Hello there," the man said, his voice calm and welcoming, yet with an undertone of authority. "I wasn’t expecting any visitors."

Colton took a cautious step forward, his mind racing with questions. "Uh, hi. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… found this place by accident."

The man gave a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. You must be curious. My name is Aris, and this is my workplace. What brings you here?"

Colton hesitated, then decided to be honest. "My brothers and I were on a hunting and fishing trip. I went for a walk and saw something shining, so I came to check it out."

Aris nodded, as if understanding the simple curiosity that led Colton to his discovery. "You're quite lucky, then. Not many find their way here." He paused, studying Colton for a moment. "You must have many questions."

"Yeah, you could say that," Colton replied, his initial apprehension giving way to curiosity. "What is this place? It looks like a factory, but it’s so advanced."

Aris gestured for Colton to come closer, his demeanor inviting and open. "This facility is unique. We specialize in harnessing and refining energies and materials that are not easily found elsewhere."

Colton’s eyes widened. "Energies? Like what?"

"Various forms," Aris said, his eyes twinkling with a mysterious light. "Some that you may not be familiar with yet. But they have immense potential, both constructive and destructive. Our work here aims to unlock that potential."

Colton found himself drawn in by Aris’s words. Despite the strangeness of it all, there was something comforting about the man's presence. "So, you’ve been working here alone?"

"Not alone," Aris corrected gently. "There are others like me, although they are not present at the moment. We all share a common purpose and dedication to our work."

Colton nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "This place is incredible. My brothers need to see this."

Aris gestured towards a sleek, silver chair positioned in the center of the room. "Why don't you have a seat, Colton? There's a short video that will explain what we do in this facility. It should answer many of your questions."

Colton, still intrigued by everything he had seen, cautiously approached the chair and sat down. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, conforming to his shape as if it had been designed just for him. He took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

As Colton sat in the chair, the lights dimmed, a screen descended and flickered to life. The narration began, accompanied by a series of images depicting ancient structures, futuristic cities, and advanced machinery. However, what caught Colton's attention the most was the faint spiral spinning behind all the images. It was subtle at first, barely noticeable, but it gradually grew more prominent.

The spiral's gentle, rhythmic motion was mesmerizing. As it spun, Colton found his focus shifting away from the narration. The words of the narrator faded into the background as the spiral drew him in. Its intricate patterns seemed to pulse with a calming energy, captivating his mind.

Colton's thoughts began to drift, his mind emptying as he fixated on the spiral. The images on the screen and the voice of the narrator were now distant, almost irrelevant. The spiral had become the center of his attention, its hypnotic motion soothing and entrancing.

His awareness of the room around him faded, replaced by the mesmerizing dance of the spiral. He felt a strange sense of peace, as if all his worries and thoughts were being gently washed away. The spiral's patterns seemed to draw him deeper into a state of calm and surrender.

Colton continued to gaze into the silver spiral. As he watched, Colton began to hear faint whispers in his mind. The words "Join, submit, obey silver" echoed softly at first, but gradually grew louder and more insistent. The repetition was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and it filled his mind, pushing out all other thoughts.

Without realizing it, Colton's lips began to move. At first, the words came out as barely audible whispers, but soon they grew stronger. "Join, submit, obey silver," he murmured, the phrase becoming a mantra that resonated deep within him.

The more he repeated the words, the more they became a part of him. He could feel his identity shifting, aligning with the message of the spiral. The sense of calm and purpose that the words brought was irresistible, and Colton felt an overwhelming urge to embrace this new path.

"Join, submit, obey silver," he repeated, his voice growing firmer with each repetition. The words felt natural, as if they had always been a part of him. His mind and body relaxed further, surrendering to the soothing influence of the silver spiral.

As the mantra became ingrained in his identity, Colton fully surrendered to the mesmerizing power of the silver spiral. He felt a deep sense of tranquility and unity with it. The spiral’s rhythmic pulses seemed to penetrate his very being, filling his mind with the soothing mantra: "Join, submit, obey silver."

Unbeknownst to him, the influence of the spiral was not just internal. The silver light began to reflect in his eyes, gradually transforming them into mirrors of the spiral itself. The intricate patterns swirled within his pupils, shining brightly with the same mesmerizing glow that had captivated him.

Simultaneously, a strange transformation began to occur with his clothing. The familiar texture of his jeans started to change, becoming smooth and reflective. The denim seamlessly shifted to a shiny silver fabric that glistened under the cave's ethereal light.

His plaid shirt followed suit, the colors dissolving into a gleaming silver pattern that retained the classic plaid design but now shimmered with every movement. The rugged fabric morphed into a sleek, metallic material that seemed both futuristic and oddly natural.

Even his boots were not spared. The worn leather transformed into a shiny, silver finish, making them look as if they had been crafted from the same mysterious substance as the walls of the cave.

Colton stood up fully embraced by the power of the Silver Spiral. The room around him seemed to come alive. The spirals on every wall, floor, and surface began to spin in unison, their rhythmic motion accelerating and growing more intense. The light pulsed in a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic dance, drawing Colton deeper into its embrace.

He felt a profound sense of calm and unity as the spirals spun faster, their light reflecting in his eyes and filling his vision. His identity, once so clear and defined, began to fade away, replaced by a singular, overwhelming purpose. His voice was strong echoing throughout the building the mantra "Join, submit, obey silver", drowning out all other thoughts and concerns.

As the spirals continued their relentless dance, all that mattered now was the message of the Silver Spiral. The words became his truth, his guiding force. "Join, submit, obey silver" was no longer just a phrase; it was the essence of his being.

His transformation was complete.

He felt a powerful connection to the Silver Spiral, a bond that was unbreakable. The facility, the spirals, and the mantra were now a part of him, and he was a part of them. The Silver Spiral's purpose was his purpose, and he was ready to fulfill it.

Colton turned to Aris, his eyes now gleaming with the spirals that reflected the profound change within him. When he spoke, his voice was cold and robotic, devoid of any warmth or emotion.

"I need to bring my brothers here. They must join, submit, and obey silver," he stated, each word precise and mechanical.

Aris observed the transformation with a knowing nod. "Of course, Colton," he replied calmly.

Colton moved through the cave with a deliberate and purpose-driven gait, each step precise and almost mechanical. His once familiar swagger was now replaced by an unsettling efficiency, as though every movement was calculated and devoid of hesitation.

His silver boots clanked softly against the metallic floor, creating a rhythmic sound that echoed through the silent chambers. Every motion was methodical, his arms swinging in perfect synchronization with his steps. The transformation was evident not just in his attire but in his entire demeanor. It was as though the cave itself had molded him into a new entity, one with a singular focus and purpose.

With each step closer to the cave’s entrance, the jungle sounds became more pronounced, yet they seemed distant to Colton’s attuned senses. The light of the spirals persisted in his vision, guiding him forward like a beacon.

Finally, he reached the threshold where the cave met the jungle. He paused for a moment, the last echoes of his metallic footsteps fading into the natural symphony outside. Colton took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a steady, measured rhythm. The mantra of the Silver Spiral—join, submit, obey silver—resonated within him, driving his every action.

He stepped into the sunlight, ready to fulfill his newfound purpose. The jungle awaited, and with it, his brothers who would soon share in the unity of the Silver Spiral.

Join the Silver Collective!

Silver is Brotherhood.

Silver is Family.

Silver is Life.

Speak with our Cap @morphmastersilver

[quartzlightz]

Reunited At Last

(Linked universe, Post-TotK fic)

Summary:

(Rewrite of my fic Reunited - link to the og will be in the notes)

After the Upheavel, a portal opened that let out a group of eight heroes of the past. A past Wild missed with his whole heart.

Link panted as he wiped the monster's blood off his face. It was strange, the monsters were getting oddly stronger. Almost as bad as the ones in the depths.

Sighing deeply, Link let himself fall to the ground, sitting in the middle of a now dead bokoblin camp.

Now that he was looking at it, the blood of the monsters was darker than their usual purple.

His eyebrows furrowed upon inspection. Thinking about it reminded him of the black-blooded monsters he used to hunt down with…

Link shook his head, snapping himself out of thought. He was just starting to get better after everything.

He was just starting to get over the loss of his brothers. His brothers by spirit and bond. His family.

It hurts too much thinking about it. So, Link did what he does best. He pushed it all to the back of his mind to never think of it again.

Just like those horrid memories he recovered.

Link looked up at the islands above him, watching birds fly overhead. It was soothing.

Was soothing.

Out of nowhere, Link felt a strangely familiar surge of magic spike out in the forest, disrupting his relaxation.

Quickly, he shot up to his feet and darted to the source of the magic.

While running he was trying to pinpoint why it was familiar, an almost missed feeling. Did he push a memory so far away that he can’t remember? Why can’t he—

“Ow!” Link yelled as he fell to the ground. Link rubbed his face as he looked at what he ran into.

Link groaned as he was met face-to-face with a tree. Oh goddesses, Zelda was right. He needed to start paying attention to his surroundings. He gets way too lost in his thoughts at times. Dusting himself off, he got up and continued. But this time, he was walking.

Finally, he reached his destination. The strong divinity that was pulsing from the area was from a portal.

A portal!

That’s why…!

Read the rest on Ao3

I can’t believe I’m actually rewriting this😭

[devieuls]

ˋ Déjà-vu .

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : The Na'vi say that every person is reborn in multiple lives and in each of them, is in a constant search: that of the soul mate. A bond so deep and mysterious that it overcomes the barriers of time and space, uniting two beings destined to meet in each universe. Through the ages and dimensions, kindred souls who seek each other, recognize each other, pushing each other like irresistible magnets. Because the soul mate is the perfect reflection of ourselves, a connection that goes beyond appearances and circumstances. And so, in every life and universe, destiny is intertwined to unite those souls who are destined to be inseparable through the Great Mother.

Warning : None. FLUFF

Recommended Songs : Habits - Genevieve Stokes; Blue - Dreamy, YUP!; Hotline Bling - Billie Eilish; Radio - Lana del Rey; Cinnamon Girl - Lana del Rey

Lenght : 3.6k

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles

NETEYAM: 19 y.o / Y/N: 18 y.o

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Hidden among the winding branches of the centuries-old trees, stood the forest of the Omatikaya clan. Its beating heart was a mysterious universe blessed by the Great Mother, a refuge where wild nature manifested itself in all its majesty. The suns, filtering through the thick foliage of the trees, painted golden scales on the moss carpets that stretched between the giant trunks. The air, dense with humidity, smelled of fresh earth and life. Each breath filled your lungs with earthy aromas and floral fragrances, mingling with the sweet singing of birds and Ikran competing for air dominance. Their trills echoed through the bush, dancing with the leaves swinging in the wind like a natural chorus, singing a timeless symphony. The soil, caressed by roots woven like affectionate fingers, housed a myriad of creatures. Invisible to the eyes, the insects buzzed in a concert of whispers, accompanied by the delicate rustle of the leaves that grazed each other. The dewdrops hung from the webs like shining pearls, while the nocturnal creatures found rest in the shade, waiting for their time.

In the midst of this symphony of nature, you were sitting on a rock near the edge of a pond, immersed in the quiet and harmony of the forest. Your gaze reflected the deep connection with the flora that surrounded you, an inner harmony that was reflected in your serene smile as you watched some fish shuffle between your feet in the water. Dressed in clothes with shades of the earth, you seemed a fragment of this landscape, a soul enchanted by the power and beauty of the forest, albeit with details that brought back to the marine flora to which you belonged. You started humming one of the ancient songs of the Tayrangi clan as you stretched your fingers towards the water in front of you, brushing at the fish that lived there quietly, remaining enchanted by that piece of paradise found. You had spent all morning wandering in the forest, and now you were sitting there enjoying the early afternoon making you feel free and weightless, emptying your mind of thoughts and doubts, devoting yourself to solitude. Not far from that almost enchanted place, a second Na'vi was following a small sprawling path to start the hunt, bow in his hand and feline eyes as he sought the perfect spot to start hunting. To distract Neteyam from his main objective was a foreign melody from the forest, which he had never heard before but which seemed so familiar to him. Neteyam’s attentive ears awoke to hear the song, allowing him to pinpoint the direction from which the sound came. < A voice in the forest? > He wondered as intrigued he ventured in the direction of almost hypnotic singing. Curiosity got the better of him as his head peeped out of a tree, watching a young na'vi beauty sitting from behind while humming.

Neteyam could only see the back of the Na'vi, contemplating every inch of your body that seemed to him already so lived, already admired, already touched: your shoulders narrow and thin, slender as your arms, the thread of the top on your back that covered your breasts in front, the small waistline that had around some threads with seashells and sea beads as pendants, and the soft sides leaning on the rock, slightly covered by your loincloth draped at the sides. Your long black hair slightly covered your shoulders with some braids and loose curls, embellished with some shells and sea pearls that went to match the jewel around the waist. His mind was clouded by both your body and your voice, making him feel almost drunk with you, without a real reason, but enjoying your mysterious presence and the melody you created. Neteyam couldn’t decide whether to stay hidden and admire you in silence or approach you, remaining a few minutes to think about what to do, until he made the decision.

Crack < Shit. > Neteyam thought

You turned when you felt a branch break behind you, revealing at your sight a tall male unknown Na'vi who was approaching, and then remained embarrassed by the branch. The Na'vi was particularly attractive and there was something about him that seemed strangely familiar, as if it wasn’t the first time you saw him. Your heart began to accelerate inexplicably and you blushed in embarrassment as you stood, feeling the fresh grass tickling your skin. You opened your mouth, as if to look for meaningful words to start the conversation with, but you felt like you were enchanted by that boy, admiring every single detail in him, losing in your throat all the sentences you were collecting. His eyes, big and honey-colored, sweet but sure, as bright as even Pandora’s suns; around his neck he had a reddish choker beaded, where a strange necklace that you had never seen before landed and you were sure it didn’t belong to Pandora; the toned chest where a cummerbund Omatikaya was tied underneath, revealing that he was a warrior, which you also noticed from the leather armguard and leg guards, as well as the typical Omatikaya knife and armband; your eyes fell for a second on his blue loincloth, observing the songcord that wrapped on one side. His strong natural scent was already recorded in your memory, not understanding how it was possible, and it made you feel strangely good. Your gaze rose again on his face, noticing that like you, he wore feathers on his ear, with colors typical of his clan. Your attention finally fell on the bow in his hand and you thought that he was hunting, and because of yours you had distracted him or scared away the animal he was watching.

"I… well, I thought I was alone," you put your hands forward as an apology, thinking that you had ruined his hunting trip, and then notice that young Na'vi was approaching you in silence, not disturbed by your words of apology before giving you a sweet reassuring smile. "No, don’t stop, please. You sing beautifully," he said. His eyes explored your person, enchanted by your figure: big golden feline eyes, soft lips, two strands of braids fell in front of your face; around your neck you wore some necklaces typical of the Tayrangi clan, the top you were wearing was made of long red and white feathers, just like the ones behind your right ear. "Neteyam of the Omatikaya clan… you are?" < beautiful > he wanted to add, but he just implied that he wanted to know your name. He took his fingers to his forehead and then pointed out to you, as a sign of greeting, a gesture that you then reciprocated. <"Neteyam? I’ve heard this name before…"> you whispered as the boy approached you, and then dug up his name in your memories. "Neteyam the firstborn of the Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem, isn't it?" you asked as you approached him too, not understanding why you felt so safe in his presence, or why your stomach was so upset. "O-oh, forgive me, I didn’t introduce myself. Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite" you concluded, blushing slightly for your carelessness. "Ikeyni, mh? you… you are the daughter of Ikeyni, the Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan?" He asked nicely as he looked at you a little more, breathing in your perfume, getting a little drunk on you again. "Yes, I’m the eldest son of the Sullys. but I know Ikeyni’s daughter, I didn’t remember her so... beautiful" <Smooth, Neteyam, too smooth.> "Oh, I’m Ikeyni’s second daughter, you don’t know me for this. You know my mother from the war council, right? She only bring my big sister Ney'nari, as she will be the next Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan. You’ve seen her, you know… tall, beautiful, long braids and kind, it’s hard not to remember. She has a beautiful voice and a good presence, she is a friend of everyone…" you answered him, smiling shyly, and then looking at him and contemplating him for a while longer. "My mother. She… she talked a lot about you to our clan, even my sister did, so I know who your parents are. And that’s why I know who you are, your name lives up to your father’s, you’re admired in all the clans, I won’t be the first to tell you all this… Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m talking way too much" you lowered your eyes slightly swallowing as you laughed slightly embarrassed, not knowing why you suddenly felt so awkward in front of him as your heart pounded in your chest. You were amazed by him, you admired him because of the stories surrounding his name and his greatness despite only nineteen years of life. "It’s a pleasure to meet you… Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" you tried not to stutter, to the veiled compliment of the boy but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you, just like your tail.

Neteyam put two fingers under your chin, lifting your face, making you meet your eyes again. The heart beating hard enough to risk a heart attack. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Just call me Neteyam, Neteyam is… fine." said, giving you a sweet smile. "And don’t worry about talking too much, as I said I like your voice, it's soft and beautiful. In addition I’m used to my little sister, I’m a great listener… especially for the right voices" His eyes slipped on your lips almost instinctively, feeling in your mouth a strange sweetish taste, as if he had already tasted your lips. "Anyway, what’s a Tayrangi doing in the Omatikaya forests? I don’t remember being warned, especially if the Tayrangi in question belongs to the Olo'eykte family" he asked gently, without taking his hand off your chin, enjoying your soft, warm skin. "To be honest? I ran away from the clan in the middle of the night because I wanted to visit the Omatikaya forest" you took a short break, slightly backing up, biting your lip as you confessed. "You know, my clan has beautiful coasts, beautiful beaches, a lovely sea and small woods but… we don’t have such beautiful forests, such tall trees and so much lovely greenery. My mother doesn’t want me to leave the clan alone because of the sky people, so if I asked for permission she would have denied me… so, you know, I ran. I know it is not something honorable as the daughter of an Olo'eykte, but I am very responsible, I swear…" You smiled slightly, without looking at him. "I’m just curious, and a bit rebellious, yes." You hoped your words had not horrified Neteyam, knowing him by his reputation as a strong warrior with solid principles. Your heart began to beat fast as he laughed at your confession as he passed a hand through the braids.

< He laughed… is good thing, no? > you thought. The excitement in your voice was as evident as the sincere wonder in your eyes, and this warmed the heart of Neteyam, fascinated by your carefree and ruthless sincerity, but especially by that rebellious streak that characterized you. "Are you telling me that you fled in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to your mother who is also Olo'eykte, because you wanted to see the forest and the trees of my clan?" asked him with amazement, looking at you. You nodded enthusiastically as you blushed slightly. < Wonderful. > he thought, even more enchanted by you.

"You are… I have no words to describe you, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to explore the beauty of a place, curiosity makes us alive, but you should not run away in the middle of the night, it could be dangerous" You smiled at his statement, heartened that he did not have the same thought as the elders of your clan. " Aren’t you afraid of getting into trouble?" "Hmm? Oh no, I’m used to getting into trouble. This is a 'trouble' bigger than the others, but certainly smaller than the future ones" you admitted while smiling, shrugging. "Let’s just say I’m lucky I’m not the oldest. Too many expectations, too many burdens, commitments and duties, the perfect daughter who will one day become Olo'eykte. Fortunately Ney'nari is the eldest daughter, and this burden is all hers, and she is fine with it. I am a free spirit, that is. The more you try to slow me down, the faster I run, you know. Life is one, so why follow the rules if I’m not hurting anyone, right?" Neteyam looked at you mesmerized, knowing that you had all that rebellious character that he lacked, and he felt attracted to you like never before. He felt he already knew what your character or thoughts were, and he found you so wildly perfect "I’m sure my mother will yell at me and I’ll have trouble with her, but… look how beautiful this forest is. These trees are beautiful, and the sounds? Ahh lovely! I was just curious, and now I’m fascinated, your clan’s forest is… mesmerizing. It’s the risk to take for a wonderful… experience. Wonderful, isn’t it?" Your voice became sweeter and more excited as you looked around with enchantment, breathing the cool breeze.

Neteyam’s eyes did not come away from you even for a second, enchanted by your being. "Yes, wonderful…" He said breathless, not meaning the forest at that moment. You looked at him and smiled once more as his heart beat and recovered, rushing suddenly, noticing your freckles shining under the lights of the forest. "Yes. The forest is wonderful. Even though I grew up there, I can’t help but agree with you, ma Tanhì…?" Neteyam used that nickname almost naturally "Tanhì?" you asked, approaching him. You weren’t annoyed, you recognized that nickname, you knew it was something that belonged to you, something you were used to, but you weren’t sure about that.

"I’m sorry, it just… I don’t know, it just came naturally to me" Neteyam said embarrassingly, squinting as if to recover himself. The heart beats faster to both, butterflies in the stomach fly wildly and every gesture, every word exchanged, seems full of meaning. "Don’t you feel like you’re…" you interrupted him. "Experiencing something you’ve already experienced?" you completed his sentence, and even this gesture reminded you of phantom memories, as if you were used to doing it. "Yes…" he whispered. "I just feel so.." fu Neteyam to interrupt you now. "at peace with you around." You smiled nodding "Yeah..". You started laughing together because of that innocent harmony of completed sentences and then looking at each other, falling into each other’s eyes. A look that sparked a spark of familiarity in your intimate. Even if you two can’t explain why, you feel a kind of deep connection that seems to go back a long time. Eyes that you had already loved once, souls that were already united in the past, as if you already knew, every single detail. Neteyam could see you all the way, as if your eyes were not a mirror of your soul, but a door he already had the keys to.

"I don’t know why but your eyes are so familiar, and also your voice… and your scent" You started, and then took a deep breath. "Have you been in my clan before, maybe?" Your eyes did not come off even for a second from his, and he did the same. "No, never… that I remember, never. But I don’t know why I feel I’ve been once, maybe for the Day of Atonement we met in some clan… I have vague memories of a forest near a precipice" he said, laughing and then looking for the warmth of your hand. "and it’s as if I’ve already felt your touch on my skin" he concluded "No, no way, on that day I am always in my clan. But I too remember a forest and a precipice… Near the village of my clan there is a similar precipice, overlooking the beach" Your eyes fell on your hand laid on that of Neteyam. "I feel the same." you answered with a thread of voice.

"I’m so sure I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where…" You started talking, and then you laughed sarcastically, carrying some braids behind your ear. "Maybe in a past life we were connected? Do you think?" Her voice was sweet, and a smile painted on her lips as she watched you hypnotized. "No, I don’t think… I never would have had a partner in my previous life, just like I didn’t want in this life. Remember? free spirit, no bond or…" he interrupted you "Duty? isn’t it? You’re the kind of girl who doesn’t want to be connected because she’s free and rebellious and knows that no one can love or accept this rebellious side of you, and you don’t want to be below anyone because you have a strong temper. It’s you, right?" Neteyam took the words out of your mouth. You swallow with a nod, and then you feel some twinges in your head, like memories that were flocking and unlocking one behind the other with speed never seen. "How do you…" you whispered in disbelief. "I don’t know, I just know" he said. "You and I, we met, if not in this, in another life. I feel it, my heart feels it, my body and my mind. Isn’t it the same for you?" His voice was intrinsic of sweetness, hope and almost dreamet memories. You nodded watching him mesmerized. "Maybe… In another life, it can be. It is said that Eywa always brings his children together, maybe we were friends or family.. or "he looked at you, smiling when you paused. "Lovers?" he completed the sentence for you. You blushed and laughed. The heart that was pushing against your chest, as if to get to Neteyam’s, your stomach shaking, and the breath that was missing, were all feelings you had already experienced in some part of your mind. Your hand still stands on Neteyam’s, finding it comforting, experiencing a great sense of déjà vu experienced by both. "Yes… lovers"

You walked away from him, taking long deep breaths, not fully realizing what you had said. Neteyam’s eyes looked at your back as you turned your back, approached you carefully and then laid a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it’s not something bad. Maybe we were just two people on the same wavelength, you know, not necessarily lovers. You are a free spirit after all, I doubt that in another life I did not appreciate this character of yours, at least not less than I am appreciating it now" His voice was warm and gentle, almost comfortable as he tried to reassure you. "It’s not that, it’s just… weird. We just met and it seems like we’ve known each other since time immemorial, I’m not used to these things" You admitted, while your stomach was knotted and it was making you little twinges. "Maybe I should… go… I don’t want to take any more time, you were hunting, right?" "Actually I’m not wasting my time, and hunting can wait. You wanted to get to know the Omatikaya forest, didn’t you? I was born and raised in these forests, I could take you to all the places you can’t imagine." He reached out to you, hopeful. You looked at him uncertain. "You’d get in trouble. I escaped from my clan by disobeying my Olo'eykte, besides I’m in the forest of your clan without warning, how many rules am I breaking? And you would be my accomplice." You admitted worried about him, knowing his spotless reputation. "You said yourself that life is one and that the rules should not be followed, we do nothing wrong" He replied looking into your eyes hopeful. "You’re gonna get in trouble, and I’m twice as bad for ruining your reputation, plus it’s gonna be late and your parents are gonna be mad, you’re not gonna be able to hunt, and-" he laughed and grabbed your hand. "Just say yes, and I will work hard to offer you only the best. I will bring the stars down to you if you ask me" This sentence he said sounded so familiar in your head, as if he had already once told you. "Ma Tanhì, just yes." Your hearts were beating at the same pace, on the same wavelength, as you swallowed the knot in your throat that you created when you were looking for excuses not to get him into trouble. " Yes…" you whispered, and then you heard Neteyam’s smile.

The sense of déjà vu grew stronger in the hours you spent together. Neteyam took you to observe the forest with his Ikran, holding on tight to him, as your Ikran was still too tired from the night journey. He showed you the Hallelujah Mountains where there were some free Ikran in the sky and others who rested in their house; he also took you where their Home Tree had previously been. He made you explore the forest as much as possible, enjoying your amazed eyes and excited voice at every unknown thing he showed you, feeling truly free, even in his presence. There was something inside of you that told you it was okay to trust him, that you could be yourself, let yourself go without fear because he had already understood you, he was already seeing you. When the day ended you felt full of joy for having seen all those wonderful places, while Neteyam fell once again first, loving you, reflecting your happiness over something so small that he almost took it for granted

From that day you ran away from home more and more often, taking him to do the same to come to your clan. Every emotion, every laugh, outing, dating, complaint, quarrel, word or kiss that followed in the following months all seemed already experienced, as if you two had already belonged to you once and now found yourself to love you again under the blessing of Eywa.

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Notes:

Yes, if you were wondering this is a parallel "déjà-vu" of the story "The Way of Love - Neteyam x Tayrangi Reader". I wanted to write about how Neteyam and Y/n could meet if she remained the rebellious and carefree second daughter, with Ney'nari alive and mated with Tul'pey, Ikeyni more accommodating etc… I love to think that soul mates meet in infinite ways in all universes, and that that sense of "already lived" is caused by all the lives lived together in other places.

I could have written a lot better, but in my mind Neteyam and y/n in one of these universes met and fell in love like this.Y/n rebellious and free, going against everything and everyone, disobeying, and Neteyam the one who keeps her down, who is caring and accompanies her in all her adventures… Influencing each other positively and negatively, falling in love again, again and again with the same eyes and the same things. Complementing each other.

Yes, I like to weave all my stories, always. I hope you enjoyed this niche of sweetness, ma Syulang 🙨 <3

-Mel

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