#captain and lieutenant bonding session

[snootlestheangel]

I would pay you my two kidneys for wolf!Simon licking and grooming otter!kyle

🫶

many please and many thanks

I won't take the kidneys but I'll take some cold chocolate cake to make me feel better about losing all the progress I had made very slowly throughout the day because now the first part is slightly different than it originally was supposed to be and I'm very upset now (which is why it ended up taking me like 2 weeks to get this done I'm so sorry 🥲)

Ghost definitely grooms everyone he can. He's learned not to lick Soap when he's shifted, otherwise he has to deal with a very upset bird. So what he does instead is lays his head down near where Soap is and sighs while licking his lips. Sometimes Soap will tease him by grooming himself, which usually leads to a husky level of dramatic tantrum. Nik and Price tolerate it, but Price laughs every time he sees their adopted daughter Bailey, a cat shifter, looking very angry with wolf slobber on her.

Granted, she's the one he's the most gentle with, and it's a form of bonding.

Enough yapping, here's the good soup.

Tagging @stuffireadandenjoy @bringinsexybackk69 (anyone else that wants tagged for this au please let me know. Even though this may not be an actual formal fic for a while its still gonna be something that stays consistent on my blog for at least a while)

The first time since the team's formation, the boys finally had some downtime. As shifters, they were familiar with the idea that the others would have different behaviors and quirks related to their respective species. It was rather easy for them to adjust to casual life together, yet for the most part, they still didn't understand where different boundaries were. Excluding their captain, they were all social creatures, yet bonded in different ways, and expressed their companionship in different ways. There was a good week where the sergeants and Ghost had awkwardly danced around each other as they learned individual boundaries.

Unfortunately for Gaz, Soap and Ghost had already formed a bond, something unique forged during their time in Las Almas. It wasn't surprising, actually. Gaz had heard stories of wild ravens and wolves forming close bonds, seeming friendships, and that sort of relationship was evident in Soap and Ghost. The two had quickly learned that Ghost didn't mind having his personal space invaded, much to Soap and Gaz's shock, and they learned Soap rather enjoyed sitting perched on Ghost any way he could. It was not an entirely uncommon sight to see a large Raven sitting on Ghost's shoulder as the lieutenant went about his daily duties.

But Gaz wasn't so lucky. He was an Otter, a seemingly oddball addition to the team. Bear, Wolf, and Raven all seemed to just work, it made sense. It's not like Gaz felt rejected, in fact he could see the desperation to include him on Soap’s face, the passing huffs from Ghost that Gaz never truly understood the meanings of.

So it's why Gaz was so grateful to have a space to himself where he could shift and take time for himself. The pool reserved for him was hidden away from the main portion of base, surrounded by a sprinkling of trees and a tall, thick fence for privacy. He spent a long afternoon doing laps around the pool, ducking through the tunnels placed inside, and jumping onto the platform along the far side. It kept him active, and after having been out of the water in proper otter fashion for far too long, it was stimulating. Something exciting and different from the dull thrum of life on base.

And nothing was better after a long afternoon swim session than heading to the nearby concrete pad and sunbathe after grooming himself. But as he approached his concrete pad, he noticed a glaring problem. A large Wolf was laying sprawled out on his side, soaking up every inch of sun.

Annoyed, Gaz ran up to Ghost's tail and lightly tapped it with his front paws, an annoyed squeal accompanying the action. The tail flicked but Ghost showed no other sign of acknowledging the otter's annoyance. So, Gaz moved on to attacking Ghost's large back paws, only earning a small grumble and slight kick. Desperation kicked in as Gaz hopped towards Ghost's head, and he jumped onto the Wolf's large head and nipped his ear. Ghost sat up with a start, and Gaz backed away to glare at the other as best he could. Gaz squealed and bobbed his head up and down in the most threatening way he could. Ghost stared down at him, mostly bored, before letting out a grumble, a yawn quick to follow. Gaz's efforts to chase him off must have been falling on deaf ears, or Ghost was lost in thought as he just watched the otter's antics. With a single swipe of his tongue, Ghost effectively silenced Gaz, pacifying him just like the otter were a wolf pup.

Gaz couldn't tell what made him angrier: the audacity Ghost had to treat him like a pup, or the fact it worked.

Gaz couldn't even think as Ghost continued to lick him. Well, lick wasn't the best term to describe the situation, it was more grooming behavior than anything else. And Gaz had quickly realized it had been too long since someone else had groomed him. He slowly curled against Ghost as the Wolf continued to groom him, using his teeth to gentle nibble Gaz's sore muscles. The repetitive motions were slowly putting Gaz to sleep, and he had rolled over onto his back. To think he had been so worried about fitting in with the other two's social circle, yet he had completely forgotten that he wasn't the only one to social groom. By the time his coat was dry, Gaz had fallen asleep between Ghost's front paws, and the Wolf had gently rested his head against the otter as he fell back asleep.

Gaz had nothing to worry about, after all.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Beating Around The Bush

Author's Note: Titus/Leandros

Summary: Titus and Leandros talk, and fuck.

Warnings: Smut. Certain people not knowing certain other people's identities. Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Titus had been ordered to speak with a specific Chaplain. It was the same one he's spoken to when he'd returned to the Ultramarine's chapter.

The same one who's watched his progress as he reunites with some of his brothers in the Ultramarines. Some of the triumphs and struggles he's had with Gadriel and Chairon.

"Thank you for joining me, Titus," The Chaplain, says, "We are going to be hm. Bonding. As I am going to be the Chaplain overseeing you and your squad for the foreseeable future. In future bonding sessions, it will be with the whole squad. But for certain reasons, I thought just you and I for this first one would do."

"Very well, Chaplain," Titus says with a nod.

"Excellent, strip out of your armor and lay down on your belly on the bed naked," The Chaplain orders.

"Yes, Chaplain," Titus complies with swift efficiency.

As Titus does so, he noticed that the Chaplain has remained mostly armored, except for his codpiece. Some chaplains preferred to remain anonymous for their own reasons.

"Very good, Titus," The Chaplain says.

There is something about the way this Chaplain says his name that... pings oddly. Perhaps this Chaplain knows him? Does he know who this Chaplain is? At least- without the skull helm?

This thoughts are derailed as the Chaplain takes off one of his gauntlet and dips his fingers into some lube and start to trace Titus's ass. "My, Primaris, created and crossed the Rubicon have such... wonderful additions." The Chaplain murmurs.

Titus shifts a little as the Chaplain starts to stretch him open and the Lieutenant feels a little off kilter. Usually as the highest ranking battle brother he's usually in control of these sorts of situations.

But with a Chaplain involved, they are the ones who hold the reigns for this sort of Bonding experience to ensure that nothing goes too far. "Relax," The Chaplain says almost soothingly, almost chidingly, "submit to me, Titus."

Titus closes his eyes and does his best to do as he's been ordered to, "Yes, Chaplain."

"In this sort of situation, you may call me Chaplain, or Sir," The Chaplain supplies, a husky purr to his voice as he continues to stretch Titus's ass open.

"Yes sir," Titus responds as he groans a little at the feeling of being stretched open and the Chaplain hits the G-spot deep in his hole he lets out a groan of pleasure.

"Oh? I found the pleasure spot, I see," The Chaplain says sounding amused. "Don't cum unless I tell you to."

"Yes sir," Titus says with a pleasured groan.

Once the Chaplain deems him ready he pulls his fingers out and lubes up his cock and thrusts in deeply, and groans, "Oh- you feel so good wrapped around my cock, Titus."

The Chaplain waits for a minute or two, enjoying the tight warmth of Titus wrapped around his cock. He's Bonded with other Primaris Marines before, but it's different with Titus.

With his former Captain. Fuck- being the one in control, the one to set the pace. To have the more dominant role. Fuck. Leandros hadn't known whether something like that would ever occur, not with how things had... ended the last time he'd met Titus before the other came back from Death Watch.

Leandros slowly continues to thrust in and out of Titus, who matches his pace, rolling his hips and groaning in pleasure, as a reward for his good behavior he lubes up his uncovered hand and starts playing with Titus's cock and balls.

Leandros climaxes first- ensuring that he paints Titus with his cum, murmuring words of absolution and holy words of forgiveness and says, "Cum, Titus."

At his words and the way he strokes the older space marine's cock- Titus does- with a groan of pleasure.

[hajiike-blog]

"It's jazz." He explained with a quick glance over his shoulder at his questioning lieutenant, and /oh/, if this experience didn't seem so /eerily/ similar t one he'd had a hundred years prior. Hopefully /this/ lieutenant wouldn't be inclined to /stab/ him in the back ten years down the track. "It's music from the world of the living." -kingdomcollapsing

@kingdomcollapsing

Jazz.

 She like this “jazz”, the music was so very different to what she was used to but it sounded so… fun! The notes seemed to bounce and skip in chaotic symphony, filling the young woman with a giddiness with every note that encircled her. The music reminded her so much of her captain: smooth but deliriously disordered in a way that made complete sense - it was thrilling and mysterious all at once!

“I really like this music. How do you dance to jazz?” She beamed, swaying slightly to the rhythm.

[juicycoutureheaux]

Both Sides Now

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 chapter 5

Chris Redfield x Fem!reader

A/N: This is my first ever published work, it's also a Resident Evil x AHS: Coven crossover. So if it seems a little cliche, it is lol. Lemme know what you think! I also cross-posted to AO3!

Summary: Reader has been on Captain Redfield’s team for a while now and seems to have a close bond with the captain. During a recon mission gone awry, the two get split up from the rest of the team and the captain is faced with a difficult decision.   Takes place Pre-Resident evil 6.

Chapter 1 : Resurgence

“Everyone listen up!” Captain Redfield’s warm baritone thundered through the aircraft. Y/N was completely in her own world until her (Y/C) eyes met the captain’s much darker ones.

“I see a lot of new faces today. If you’re here, you were the best in your training class, congratulations.” The new recruits all looked around excitedly. You looked to your direct left to catch your Lieutenant; Piers, roll his eyes.

Piers had been Captain’s right hand man since you arrived 6 months ago. You had graduated at the top of your class with a specialty in the medical field. You had a choice to work stateside; but the need for field medics was very dire. You were then scouted by Redfield himself during an intense training session.

You liked being under Redfield’s command; he was a fair leader that took care of his teammates.

Chris started up again; “I want to remind everyone that you may be the best of the best, but we are nothing without each other.” You looked over at Lieutenant Nivans and thought you were going to burst out in laughter. Piers looked like his head was going to explode; unlike Captain Redfield, Piers was a hardass. You couldn’t blame him though; God only knows what life was like before he joined the BSAA. There were rumors that he had come from a long line of soldiers.  Y/N Shuddered at the thought.

She had come from a loving family; unfortunately for her, her mother had passed away just after she turned 13. People speculated she’d lose her mind a lot faster than she did. You see, (Y/N) started to have visions. It started innocently enough, she started having very realistic dreams of her mother. Once her mother stopped visiting her, the other apparitions started to show themselves to her,  not just in dreams either. She would start to see horrific visions: burn victims, dead soldiers, and other loved ones that hadn’t passed on yet. They started to hound her at every moment, they were desperate to move on.

She began to grow weary and when she finally lost it at school one day, a strange red headed woman arrived at her home. This was “the beginning of her life”, the woman always liked to remind her. That same day she was shipped off to Miss Robichaux’s Academy.

To the public, Miss Robichaux’s was an illustrious boarding school, to (YN) it was somewhere she finally felt a community of girls just like her. She missed her family back home, but she never felt accepted by anyone except her mother. Her talents were nurtured and eventually (YN) decided she was old enough to leave the coven, much to Myrtle and Cordelia’s protests. She felt the need to use her gift beyond the walls of the Academy. Due to Robichaux’s “Human” reputation, she was accepted no problem into the BSAA training academy.

YN snapped back to earth again when Piers started to talk to the group. “Due to the unfamiliarity of our teammates, today’s mission is going to be a simple recon.” You laughed internally; simple, you thought. The reason we had so many new recruits was because a “simple” mission had turned into an absolute shitshow.

It happened to be you, Redfield, Nivans and a couple of other “seasoned” agents. At the time, you were still wet behind the ears with little field experience. A simple information session on a foreign base turned into a full-on terrorist attack. You were lucky to even be alive; while trying to save an injured comrade from the medical tent, a licker had decided to zero in on you two. While fighting off the creature to your best ability, it happened to swipe into your abdomen leaving you maimed and helpless. At the last minute, as if guided by some divine power, Captain Redfield came to your rescue.

Ever since that specific incident, the BSAA decided it would have at least one trained squad per outbreak, regardless of size, and not the traditional one or two person teams they were used to in the past.

Incidentally since then, YN had been absolutely enamored with the captain. She had never been crazy about the other gender, and especially not her fellow coworkers. However, something was different, she could feel it. The way he genuinely cared about others and his passion for the cause; it also didn’t help he was physically attractive as well.

You held on to your weapon tightly thinking about the incident, to only feel a large hand on your shoulder. “You alright YLN? You’ve been kind of quiet since we got here.” Chris looked at you intensely. There was concern and something else. You thought you were just imagining things.

“I can’t stop thinking about last time.” You answered honestly. It was true, the incident had haunted your dreams. Chris shifted his stance a little bit to relax his large body.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about kid.” He tells me, then continues with a smile. “You’ve got killer instincts; you’ll know to do the right thing. Don’t beat yourself up too much.”  You couldn’t help but blush.

“Thanks cap,” you said nonchalantly, trying to hide the fact that you lived for this man’s praise. Chris gave a friendly wink and addressed the team again.

“We received some intel from locals about suspicious activity coming from the locals, other teams have discovered abandoned BOW distribution sites. All the training should have prepared you for this moment and I have faith you will all be able to handle your own.”

The team was silent, a drastic contrast to the excited chatter that was going on earlier. The brevity of the situation must have reached the other recruits and you couldn’t blame them. This wasn’t your first mission, but you were always aware of the risks presented. You decided to break the silence.

“This is a new situation to all of you, I was just as nervous on my first day in the field. You all are in great hands and Cap is the best of the best. We’re a team that goes in together and comes out together.” You used your southern charms and it seemed to be successful. The recruits that appeared to be faint just moments before, had the color returning to their faces.

Piers and Chris started going over the plans and goals of today’s mission. “There seems to be split levels of this distribution site still intact.” Piers said to the captain. Chris furrowed his eyebrows; usually sites like this had some levels destroyed due to self-destruct protocols. Was there a possibility that it was still inhabited with B.O.W.S & their creators?   He couldn’t put his team in danger, especially not Y/N & Piers, they had already been through enough.

Chris looked over at Y/N talking to the others. He loved how you were  always great at putting others at ease. His eyes wandered to your torso as he thought about how your scar was healing up, his eyes traveled up the delicate curves of her body. He stopped himself from thinking about what Y/N looked like underneath her uniform.  He scolded himself internally. “Not now.” 

“How long have you been on this team YN ?” one of the recruits asked. You think his name was Marco? Honestly you were just getting used to having actual teammates than having their names memorized already.

“About six months!” You chirped “Captain Redfield and Lieutenant Nivans scouted me during one of the BSAA training sessions. I guess it’s because field medicine is my specialty and I’m not terrible at combat.” You laughed nervously; it was always difficult for you to socialize with the other soldiers. You never felt like you were good enough to be in the position you were.

One of the other soldiers decided to chime in with “Are you sure it’s not because the captain needed something pretty to look at?” The group exploded in laughter at your expense. You should be used to the “boys club” by now, but neither Chris or Piers ever made comments like that. You felt your cheeks flush and the sting of the laughter.

“THAT’S ENOUGH” Chris roared. The teams’ color left their faces again. “I meant it when I said EVERYONE deserves their spot on this team.”

He glared at all of them “Be careful what you say to YLN, she’s the one to stitch you back together when you get injured. I wouldn’t blame her if she were to accidentally not numb the area.” Chris then turned to you. “Don’t let these rookies give you hell L/N.” 

With that he started detailing the mission. You were to break off in groups; Chris led one team and Piers led the other. 

You happened to be on Chris’s team, much to your chagrin. All you could think about was your teammate’s comment from earlier; was that all you were good for? Did Chris feel like he had to put you on the team because of the lack of medical personnel? You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw a dark presence looming over your captain.

“What the hell?” you thought to yourself. You’ve never seen anything like this before. Captain Redfield started to slow down and you could tell whatever it was, was slowing him down.

“Captain you alright?” you said as you hurried to his side. Chris let out a sigh.”Nothing ever gets past you L/N.I think dealing with all these rookies is causing me to slow down.” He said light heartedly.  “Hope you’re not getting too old, Redfield!” Marco yelled playfully. The rest of the team including the Captain started to laugh, except you. 

“Not in your dreams Rose!” The Captain quipped back immediately. “Let’s focus on the task at hand so I can kick your ass later.” 

You were more concerned now, whatever this was, affected your captain in real time. You wish you had remembered some of the lessons Cordelia had given you on your gift. You never liked talking about dark entities, and now one was latched on to someone you admired dearly. It’s not like you could tell him though, he’d probably chalk your visions up to some PTSD and you would be discharged and shipped back to Robichaux. If you were going to help Chris, you had to take this thing on yourself.

[ridiasfangirlings]

(1/2)My friend once gave me a manicure saying that it'll help me relax and it actually did so now imagine if Seri sees Fushimi being stressed and decides to give him a manicure and Fushimi is like NO but no one says no to her unless they have a death wish. Time skip to them sitting in room with Seri painting his nails and Fushimi ranting about Yata XD he wouldn't admit it but he actually liked it. Munakata finds out about this and is like "oya" *glasses sparkle* new bonding activity found

Just imagine this eventually escalating into a whole S4 sleepover/home spa day type thing, like a few of the squad members are getting manicures, some pedicures, a couple of them are laying back with a cucumber mask over their faces, we've got some foot baths, it's just the most relaxed the squad has ever been and for once they have to admit that Captain had a great idea. Imagine this starts like pre-S1, Awashima's noticed how often Fushimi seems stressed and decides she needs to do something about it. She ordered a home manicure online a few weeks ago and found it wonderfully relaxing so she figures perhaps it could help, she knows Fushimi will likely scoff at the idea but he needs to find some way to relax before he pops a vein. She tells him she expects to see him in her room that evening, Fushimi keeps trying to find ways to get out of it and Awashima keeps catching him because she is going to make Fushimi relax if it kills him. Fushimi finally drags himself into her room, steeling himself for the worst.

Jump forward and Fushimi has just the best nails in the squad and he's meeting Awashima for biweekly de-stress sessions. He doesn't tell anyone about them because he isn't going to admit to anyone that Lieutenant's been giving him manicures, especially not to Captain. But then one day there's some emergency and Munakata needs to speak with Awashima, normally he doesn't go into the women's dorms but he will do so if needed. He knocks on Awashima's door and it creaks open just a bit, enough so that Munakata can see Fushimi sitting there with Awashima doing his nails while he goes on a whole rambling complaint about how he saw stupid Misaki today and Misaki was too busy staring at Suoh Mikoto what's so great about Suoh Mikoto anyway and besides if Misaki really cared why isn't he chasing after me. Awashima is like half-listening, more focused on doing his nails, but she's like nodding along at intervals and Fushimi just keeps talking. Munakata pushes up his glasses with a sparkle all 'I see.'

So then a short while later Munakata decides the squad will be having a sleepover in order to help them all relax, everyone's dreading this because who knows what kind of terror Captain has dreamed up what if he decides we're going to have a scary story marathon or something. Instead though Munakata, with Awashima's assistance, has transformed one of the conference rooms into a total mini-salon, everyone is going to get manicures and pedicures and just the total pampering package. I imagine the squad still being on edge because this is way too good to be true but for once Captain No has turned into Captain Yes and they all have a really nice relaxing time. Even Fushimi can't complain too much, though I imagine him sitting down for a manicure and there's Munakata right in front of him ready to try out new skills and if Fushimi would like to unburden his heart while Munakata does his nails he is most welcome to (Fushimi's immediately like 'no' and sits in perfect silence as Munakata does his nails with a small sad sparkle).

The sessions continue at least once or twice a month after this point, maybe stopping for a bit when all the mess of S1 and later ROK happens. Post-ROK though Munakata is determined to revive the tradition and that's how Homra eventually finds out about it, Awashima's getting a drink at the bar but she has to leave early for the bonding session. Kusanagi expresses his condolences and Awashima smiles a bit as she says this is actually one she looks forward too, she hasn't given a manicure in months. Anna is nearby and wonders about the manicures, Awashima explains that she's gotten very good at doing other peoples' nails. Anna looks down at her own nails and Awashima smiles kindly at her as she wonders if Anna would like a manicure too. Maybe Awashima even invites Anna to their sleepover, Kusanagi's a little concerned but supposes as long as Anna's with Seri she'll be fine. Anna comes home the next day super excited about her nails, Awashima's even offered to teach her how to do manicures she just needs someone whose nails she can do. Kusanagi's like 'is that so...' as Anna stares at him intently, the next evening all of Homra is gathered for the extremely important duty of letting Anna test out her manicure skills (with Awashima assisting of course). The next day Homra also all have the best-looking nails they've ever had and everyone's concerned that if they punch someone they might mess their nails up and make Anna sad. At the same time Scepter 4 are also being very careful with their perfectly-done nails and it's like to think all they needed to do all along to make the clans stop fighting each other was give everyone splendid nails.

[keikakudori]

👫 // loloolol

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

i. aizen and hiyori used to have dunk sessions where shinji was concerned. every few weeks or so, aizen would invite hiyori to the fifth and provide tea and snacks for them both and they would both just spend some time talking about what shinji had done lately that irritated the both of them. for all of aizen’s good manners and as much as he would and did speak to his captain about some things, these sessions were a fun way for them to bond.

later, when gin became part of the fifth as well, aizen would invite him into these sessions too. it was always quite a bit of fun for the lieutenants, or so aizen hoped, and he rather also imagined that gin probably enjoyed himself too.

ii. while he never expected reciprocation, aizen would always ensure that hiyori got something nice for her birthdays from him. a tea in a variety she liked, perhaps a book, maybe a simple hairpin. he never got anything that would be broken in her rough and tumble nature that could be worn, but he would always default to some kind of pastry or food if nothing caught his eye in any given year. 

iii. truthfully, aizen always had something of a difficult time comprehending the relationship between shinji and hiyori. it always seemed like siblings to him, but in equal measure aizen’s confusion came over the fact that his captain never truly tended to retaliate between some wrestling and teasing. he does know how many nosebleeds hiyori’s given shinji, however. he counted. it was always one of those dynamics he kept himself out of because he could see how well they got on together -- but it still quietly confused him in its own way.

iv. aizen was ... jealous of hiyori in some ways. he was jealous of the closeness she shared with shinji and he wanted, very much, what it was they shared. while he did not derive any pleasure in one victim over another on the night of The Divorce, part of him was willing to admit that he was perhaps a bit spiteful towards her on that evening. when she stirred first, showing the earliest signs of recognizing herself through the struggle of those moments -- yes, he did not hesitate in speaking kaname’s name to have her cut down.

and a bonus.

v. aizen always knew hiyori would crack first when he saw the visored there that day in the tenkai kecchu. he knew as soon as he saw them that she would be the first to attack him. it was very deliberate, the provocation he used that day, which shinji aptly pointed out to them all -- and yet it worked. for most of those arrayed to face him, aizen did not feel it to be a personal fight. he was there to follow through on his plans and they chose to get in his way. but where shinji and hiyori were concerned--? yes. it was personal there. he knew she would respond poorly to what he said -- and he very much wanted to hurt his captain in kind, more than just breaking their souls had done.

he wanted shinji to look at him -- and unfortunately hiyori provided that opening beautifully.

[kathaariawrites]

Sucia - Lieutenant Lesaro x Reader (NSFW)

I’m not okay, please stop asking. This piece will send me to hell, I’m sure of it. Self-indulgent but also very important NSFW piece for my beloved lieutenant. Someone please turn the A/C on.

I think I got a bit carried away with the Spanish but uh...only the best for this man. Translations at the end.

This is for our shared thirst, @captainsigge. Get some water.

“Te has portado muy mal, señorita.”

The words had you freezing. Lieutenant Lesaro looked at you with a very mischievous look in his good eye and you sincerely thought there was no worse place to be at the moment. It hadn’t been long since the crew of La Maria Silenciosa had rescued you on their way back to Cádiz from a pirate ship. You were headed back to Spain after visiting your sister in Saint Martin when it happened, the ship’s crew losing a bloody battle and taken prisoner when the shouts of “Spanish navy” woke you from your slumber and before you knew it you were aboard the famed ship of capitán Salazar.

That had been a little over a week ago and now you were less than 5 days away from Spanish shores again. Over time, you learned that the capitán’s first hand - and trusted man - teniente Lesaro was a kind soul amongst a life you had no idea if you could endure yourself. As kind as he could be anyways. Truth be said, you had never met a man from the Armada and avoided being around them as much as you could as they all seemed exceedingly scary to you. The capitán was no exception but the lieutenant had something...different about him.

Lieutenant Lesaro had a stern air around him, you would never deny that after seeing how he commanded the ship easily, the practice of a man born to do what he did. The crew were back after their alleged curse had been broken and it seemed that whatever had happened in the years they were gone had bonded them very close to each other and therefore reprimands and pointless arguments seemed useless and rare now.

In this moment, however, you stood in the lieutenant’s quarters after being delivered a message by officer Moss.

“The lieutenant wishes to see you and I am to escort you there.”

Earlier that day you had misstepped and how foolish had you been to believe that he would let that slip. Your curiosity had led you to disobey an order directly from him and the captain and wandered on the ship when you should not have, in the middle of a combat. Fortunately nothing had happened to you but there was something in the eyes of the lieutenant that promised fire later, when everything was calmer. This was later.

Officer Moss had knocked on the door and announced your presence, leaving soon after. That is where you stood now.

“Perdón, teniente, but I do not know what you speak of.”

“You take me for a fool. You disobeyed an order given to you, by me, in front of my men. Put my authority in check…”, he rambled as he went to the door and locked it. “No más, señorita. Te enseñaré una lección.”

You shivered at his words, the tension that had been building between you and the man over the days you spent on the ship was so thick now that you could slice through it with a knife. The air got hot, his cabin seemed on fire.

“Esta noche me obedecerás, [Y/N].” You jumped as you heard his voice behind you, so close to your right ear. His hands reached for the top part of your dress and you could only watch as he released the pins, removing it with ease. The skirts were next and you felt them grow loose until they dropped to the floor and you were left almost bare for him. “¿Comprendes?”

“Sí…”

“‘Sí’ what?”

“Sí, teniente.”

You were rewarded with a kiss to your neck, followed by a moment where you could only feel his breath against your skin. He finished undressing you in no time, his big hands holding you by your waist. “Such beauty...do you enjoy teasing me señorita? Do you enjoy challenging me?” A gasp as he touched your breast. “Answer me.”

“No…”

“No? I think you are lying to me, [Y/N].” He dragged you with him as he sat down on his bed, placed under a curtain for added privacy. “And liars do deserve some punishment, don’t you think?”

He laid you across his lap and you held your breath. You had no idea where that side of him came from but your mind was numb from excitement, from pleasure. It was your first time with a man and the little dance you were doing around each other was coming to an end, culminated into this.

His first strike on your rear took a gasp from you. He followed it with a caress to soothe the abused skin but did not stop there as another one soon followed. And another. And another. An order to count them barely filtered through the fog in your brain but you managed to count every single strike. It took 20 for him to be satisfied but you skin seemed on fire after the session. He proved to you why he was the lieutenant to such a strict captain.

“¿Y esto qué es?” His finger rubbed against your core, spreading your juices around and you shivered. “Did you enjoy your punishment, [Y/N]?” A dark chuckle escaped his lips and sent another shiver through your body as you nodded. “A lot more than one would deem appropriate, it seems.” He toyed with you for a while longer until he seemed satisfied with the soft moans escaping you. His free hand worked on his trousers to free his erection and he sighed in relief. “On your knees. Now.”

The tone used did not leave you with many options but it seemed you did not need to think twice as your body moved without resistance. You stared up at him from between his legs, your [E/C] eyes meeting his dark ones and a primal part of you enjoyed immensely how wide his pupils were. Pleasure. 

“Look at you…” His thumb pressed against your lip and he hummed. “Staring at me from there, where you belong. ¿Te gusta, eh?” He chuckled again, one hand pumping his member as he kept staring at you. “A proper Spanish lady on her knees for me. I wonder what the other officers would think if they were to come here right now, to see their precious señorita [L/N] glistening, moist and eager on her knees for me.”

You let out a moan, the thought exciting you in whole new ways. This was not the first time the lieutenant did this, he knew the buttons to press and you were astounded to find you were reacting so well to him.

“Ahora abre tu boca y cuida tus dientes.”

You nodded and obeyed, moaning with him as his member entered your mouth. He stood up then and got rid of his shoes, pants and undergarments and your hands held onto his thighs. Your eyes closed as you tasted him, felt his weight on your tongue and he seemed to be as overwhelmed as you were as he did not move for a bit. His hand found your [H/C] strands and patted you a bit. “Buena chica…”

You wanted to smile at the praise but it was soon forgotten as he began to move, gripping your hair for more leverage. Slowly at first so you could get used, picking up speed as he went.

As his hands held you in place and he pushed further you gagged, taking all of him in your mouth. He moaned loud and pulled back, removing himself from your mouth and dragging you to the nearby mirror. “Mira. Mírate. ¿Crees que pareces una dama respetable?”

You shook your head, staring at your red face and drool on your chin. “No, teniente.”

“Eres tan sucia. Pues,” He shoved himself into your mouth again, “siga mirándote. I want you to see yourself as you take me in.” You moaned as he forced your head on the mirrors direction, his member forcefully hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. The sight and sounds of it, so dirty, had you numb with pleasure. You felt his thrusts grow erratic, his moans louder until he pulled your head fully to him and soon he filled your mouth.

You moaned and choked. At the depth he had released, you had no option but to swallow and that by itself seemed to please him enough, but your instincts had you cleaning him. “You didn’t waste a single drop...well done.”

Smiling up at him, you stood up. His arms found your waist again and he kissed you, deep and needy. A reward, a part of your mind told you. For behaving well, doing what you’re told.

Your body hit the mattress not late after that, his soon following. His lips were still on yours as he sat up and pulled you up with him, your hands undressing him fully, vest and shirt alike. When his mouth found your neck, your hands found his chest and you couldn’t help but wonder why this man, this spectacular man, would choose you. Surely he was experienced, surely he had someone waiting for him in Cádiz? A wife, children?

“You think too much, querida.” He kissed your cheek then, stroking the other one with his right hand and smiling gently as he looked into your eyes. “What’s bothering you?”

“Why me?”, you blurted out and blushed and how sudden it sounded. “Don’t you have...someone? In Cádiz?”

“Ah, ya veo. ¿Celosa?” He laughed at the indignant face you put, a pout on your lips. “There’s no one. There hasn’t been someone in years, señorita. This...experience is fruit of my years on a ship. I’m afraid we don’t always have the luck to find someone special while we are young.”

“But I’m glad to have found you”, he kissed your hand. “If you will have me, that is.”

“Teniente…” You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Estás…”

“Yes, I am. I want to speak to your father when we reach Spain. I wish to marry you. It may be too soon but I have never felt this for anyone, not a single soul. You enthrance me, señorita.”

“I...yes. ¡Sí! ¡Me caso con usted.”

His smile could have lit the room and he kissed you again, passionately. “Then I believe you have the right to call me Guillermo.” You tested his name on your tongue and he seemed to like the sound of it, a whisper of ‘sí, mi amor’ and a kiss soon following.

Laying on the bed, his hands resumed their exploration of your body. “You are still being punished, señorita, do not forget that.” His mouth found your breasts and he showered them with attention. Biting, sucking, licking, marking your skin to show his status. You were his now.

The air in the room was hot, burning, your lungs almost struggled to draw breath in. Just like that he was back in his dominant mode, peppering your body with kisses and a few bites here and there until he reached your thighs. He spread them, big hands holding your legs open for him as he decided it was time to repay you for earlier. You blushed hard, your face on fire as he took you in. “Still this wet for me.”

His tongue tasted you and you gasped so loud your body jumped on the bed. A chuckle was his reply as he kept working on you, flicking his thumb on your little bundle of nerves as his tongue found your entrance. He was eating you out and God was he good at it.

Perhaps it was the lack of experience from your part or the excess of experience on his part but it took a surprising short time for you to reach your climax, the first one you ever had, causing your back to arch. He hummed and drank your juices, licking them off his lips before resuming his attention. He brought you climax upon climax with no hurry in the world until you were left limp, gasping and moaning incoherent things for him. Begging for him to take you.

“Are you sure, [Y/N]? There’s no turning back if we go all the way.”

You nodded, feverish and delirating with pleasure as you hugged him. He aligned his member to your core, the sheer pressure on you was almost maddening; you were still so sensitive from his mouth.

“Beg me for it then. What do you want from me?”

“You...I want you…”

“Yes? What do you want from me?”

“Please, Guillermo, please take me. Quiero ser tuya.”

He chuckled, stroking your cheek before slapping you. “Ya eres mia, [Y/N]. ¿No eres?”

You nodded and he slapped you again as you kept begging for him to take you, to please stop teasing, to claim you. He obliged, slowly entering you and giving you time to adapt once more. “So tight, [Y/N]...dios, you feel so good.”

You could barely breathe through the initial burn and pain from the stretch, not noticing until now just how big he was. He seemed made to fit you as he bottomed out, sighing in pleasure at the tightness and warmth surrounding him. As your hips moved it was the sign he needed to start his own movements, shallow and slow at first until he started pounding you into the mattress.

The sound of skin against skin was maddening, so hot and delicious to you as the music from the balls you went to in Cádiz. “Guillermo...más, dame más.”

Another slap, “You don’t give orders here, señorita. And it’s teniente.”

You were sure you were leaving imprints on the mattress, his thrusts so deep and strong that your skin tingled. Your hands reached for him and hugged him close to you, nails on his back as he growled and moaned in your ear, praising you on how well you took him, how warm and wet you were for him.

You came once again, then twice, squeezing him tight. By the third one he moaned loud, holding you tight against him and thrusting as fast as he could.

“I’ll fill you up so good. And you will take it all, don’t let a single drop out. Am I making myself clear?”

“Sí…sí teniente, sí.”

“Good girl.”

He came then, the sheer heat of it enough to rip a moan from you. His own moan was loud and he shook as he emptied in you, true to his word in filling you up. You stroked his hair as he rode through his climax, kissing his temple in thanks.

As the two of you came down from your high he plopped on the bed beside you, slowly removing himself from you and hugging your naked, overheated body against his. “Dios mio, mujer. You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You chuckled, nuzzling your face on his neck. “I love you, Guillermo.”

“I love you too, [Y/N]. Now sleep. We have a lot to clean tomorrow.”

Spanish translations:

Te has portado muy mal, señorita = You have behaved very badly, miss

Perdón, teniente = I’m sorry, lieutenant

No más, señorita. Te enseñaré una lección = No more, miss. I’ll teach you a lesson

Esta noche me obedecerás = Tonight you’ll obey me

¿Comprendes? = Do you understand?

Sí = Yes

¿Y esto qué es?  = And what is this?

¿Te gusta, eh?  = You like it, huh?

Ahora abre tu boca y cuida tus dientes  = Now open your mouth and mind your teeth

Buena chica = Good girl

Mira. Mírate. ¿Crees que pareces una dama respetable? = Look. Look at you. Do you think you look like a respectable lady?

Eres tan sucia. Pues, siga mirándote = You’re so dirty. Well, keep looking at yourself.

Querida = Dear

Ah, ya veo. ¿Celosa? = Ah, I see. Jealous?

Estás = Are you

¡Me caso con usted! = I’ll marry you!

Mi amor = my love

Quiero ser tuya = I want to be yours

Ya eres mia = You’re already mine

¿No eres? = Are you not?

Dios = God

Más, dame más = More, give me more

Dios mio, mujer = My God, woman

[yespleasefandomtrash]

adora contemplating that it’s okay to have wants as well as thinking about how much she loves catra, culminating in an extremely unorthodox proposal (but nonetheless one very fitting for the two of them)

~*~

Adora knew she had problems with… accepting things, as it were. On her first birthday - or what they’d decided was her birthday - as a part of the Rebellion, Glimmer and Bow had refurbished her entire wardrobe. With the help of Angella. She’d be so overwhelmed that not only was it still a struggle for her to wear most of those outfits but she’d also tried to make gifts for each one of them in return. They’d informed her, gently, that birthdays did not operate as exchanges. Their presents to her were tokens of appreciation for her existence, no strings attached and nothing required in response. 

She hadn’t believed them at the time. Or at least hadn’t understood them. How could someone appreciate her solely because she existed? In the Horde, a person had to work to prove their worth. They had to constantly show that they’d earned their positions. They had to justify that they deserved to live, because no one inherently deserved anything when there was no guarantee they’d all make it to see the next day. Then, as She-Ra, every day Adora felt like she had to prove her loyalties to the Rebellion as well as demonstrate her capabilities as a leader. She couldn’t let them down, no matter what the cost. As they learned to trust her, She-Ra’s responsibility shifted to being the savior. There was no one else in the universe who could do what She-Ra could, who held the power that She-Ra held, which meant She-Ra - Adora - had to be ready to do anything for the sake of those who could do nothing.

It was a mantra. A lifestyle drilled into Adora’s mind. Don’t ask, don’t want, and there will be nothing to lose. She should only take what she needed because anything more was unnecessary and would only be a sign of weakness. In the Horde, Shadow Weaver made sure Adora was never weak. In turn, as part of the Rebellion, Adora did the same for She-Ra. She clung to those basics, forcing herself to be content with working towards a greater purpose. Once, to be Force Captain. Then, or perhaps even now, to be She-Ra, and to do whatever it took to save all of Etheria.

You deserve love, too. Mara’s words often echoed in her mind, as if she’d only heard them yesterday and not months ago. Adora had struggled to take that advice to heart. ‘Deserve’ was too fickle of a term - maybe she did deserve love, but the rest of Etheria deserved to live and didn’t that outweigh her own selfish wants?

But she was gradually starting to understand that such concepts did not have to be mutually exclusive. She’d saved Etheria while the love of her life had saved her at the same time. She didn’t have to choose. Or maybe she had chosen, and she’d chosen both.

Adora, much like her girlfriend, had taken to meeting with Perfuma. To help her process… well, everything. She kept this fact private - not because she was embarrassed or anything of the like, but because she simply didn’t want any of her friends to worry. Glimmer was having to iron out the details of co-ruling with King Micah, Bow was helping his dads rebuild and restore their library, and Catra was working harder than anyone just to become accustomed to Bright Moon and to improve her relations with the people she’d hurt during her time at the Horde.

Perfuma’s response to these concerns had been that her problems were not lesser just because she’d convinced herself they were of smaller magnitude, because a person drowning in five feet of water and a person drowning in twenty feet of water were still both drowning, regardless of the difference in depth. They both needed to be saved, and both would need treatment afterwards to survive. In other words, it was okay if her friends worried on her behalf because her problems were as important as anyone else’s. Concern and empathy, Perfuma believed, were the core components of a strong bond between individuals.

Perfuma was undoubtedly right, but Adora kept her talks with the princess to herself all the same.

Another common topic at her sessions was her supposed ‘self-sacrificial’ tendencies. Those tendencies were connected to her difficulty in accepting her inner wants and desires, Perfuma had explained, and her obsessive need to be someone for everyone at any time. If she kept that up, she would eventually stretch herself too thin, hurting herself and perhaps even those around her.

So, with Perfuma’s help, Adora had created a new mantra to live by. She did not have to be everything for everyone. It was okay to want, to be selfish, to love and be loved. Perfuma was delighted to note her progress over the past several months, and Adora couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself, too. Which was also okay. There was no shame in pride and self-love.

In other words… Adora wouldn’t have traded the world she was in for a million new universes to explore.

“So how do you tell the difference between a star and a planet?” Catra asked, frowning up at the sky. “They all look like bright circles to me.”

Adora chuckled at her girlfriend’s blunt question. “I think stars twinkle and planets shine is how most people do it. But I can just… feel it. The difference.”

They were lying on one of the flatter rooftops of Bright Moon’s palace, resting side by side and staring up at the stars together. Catra liked being up high to get away from people, and Adora was more than happy to accompany her in being alone. They tried to climb up and stargaze every week, and while they were not always successful, it made the times they did manage to get away together even more special.

“I guess that’s She-Ra’s influence,” Catra mused. “Feeling the difference without knowing anything about stars.”

Adora laughed. “Probably so. I’ve never studied astronomy in my life, so…”

Catra snorted. “Except for the one time you fell asleep when George was trying to explain constellations to you. So yeah, definitely She-Ra.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” The conversation had actually been incredibly interesting - she’d just been exhausted from helping Glimmer with Bright Moon business all day.

George had recently provided them with a copy of a book about stars, as most of Etheria had been ecstatic about their reappearance in the sky. Adora and Catra had spent the past few nights spotting constellations amongst the stars, something Adora - or She-Ra, perhaps - apparently had a knack for. Catra preferred to make up her own, each story she invented for them more ridiculous than the next.

“Hey, is that a constellation?” Catra asked, pointing upwards and to her right at a cluster of stars that formed a vaguely humanoid shape. “Or is it coincidentally a weird pattern that looks like a person?”

Adora had to physically tear her gaze from her girlfriend, turning her head to look up at the sky. Not that the stars weren’t beautiful, but their light didn’t hold a candle to Catra, who in her opinion was a thousand times more stunning. Although she was probably biased on that front. “Yes,” she said after examining the stars Catra had pointed out to her. She actually remembered this particular constellation from George’s book, admittedly only because it was exactly on page 100. “It’s the Huntress constellation. The daughter of a Titan - the Titans were a race of people after the First Ones - sacrificed her life at her father’s hand to save her friends travelling with her. Her father intended to kill them all, and she was willing to do anything to stop him. She was able to trick her father into returning to his prison where he held up the sky, as the First Ones had condemned his fate to be, but in doing so he managed to strike a final blow across her body that ended up being fatal.”

“Parents hurting their children, huh?” Catra murmured. “I guess that’s not something new.”

Adora had been so excited that she’d remembered the story behind a constellation of her own accord that she’d forgotten how tragic this one happened to be. “The girl was actually one of She-Ra’s most loyal lieutenants.” Her own voice had dropped almost to a whisper. “When she died to save everyone, She-Ra immortalized her sacrifice in the stars.” She reached up, tracing the outstretched arm of the girl. “She’s drawing her bow - fighting to protect her friends even in death.”

Adora heard Catra’s claws scrape against the rooftop. “Why are so many of these stories so depressing?” she grumbled. “Someone is always dying to save other people. Why - why can’t a person do good things and just… die of old age or something? Can’t they still be remembered for their achievements without the sacrifice play?”

Adora knew she should have been listening more tentatively to her girlfriend’s words, as there was undoubtedly a lesson there she herself needed to take to heart, but Catra’s profile in the light of the moon was simply too mesmerizing. She couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Even in the low silver light of the moon, the deep blush on Catra’s face was clear.

Adora had to bite back her laughter. “Like what?”

“Like… I’m everything.”

But she was everything. “You’re telling me I’m not allowed to admire my beautiful girlfriend?” Adora teased, rolling onto her side to better face Catra. “That’s not fair.”

“Shut up,” Catra muttered, but there was no acidity in her voice.

Adora leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Catra’s forehead. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

“Yeah, you have this terrible tendency of always telling the truth. The only person worse than you at lying is Scorpia,” Catra grumbled. But she didn’t seem to mind the kiss. “And if you’re going to kiss me, don’t you dare miss my lips on purpose.”

Mm. So Catra definitely didn’t mind the kiss. And Adora was more than happy to oblige with her girlfriend’s requests, though maybe ‘demands’ was a more accurate term. She lifted herself onto her elbows for a better vantage point before leaning down to capture Catra’s lips with her own, humming in satisfaction as her girlfriend began to purr. Maybe it was a silly conclusion to come to but kissing Catra, no, being with Catra was everything Adora wanted and more. She’d give up a thousand lifetimes just for the moment she was living.

No. No. She didn’t need to give anything up. She had what she wanted, there and now. No sacrifice needed to be made because Catra was with her, and no one could take that away from them.

Least of all herself.

“Hey,” Catra said, brow furrowing in concern. She carefully moved the both of them up into sitting positions. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Wait, are you crying?!” Her voice got more frantic with each question, and she took one of Adora’s hands in her own. “Talk to me.”

Adora reached up with her free hand to touch her face, surprised to find it streaked with tears. She didn’t remember starting to cry. “‘Talk to me’,” she found herself repeating, warmth blossoming in her chest. “You and Perfuma have been working on healthy communication strategies, haven’t you?”

Catra flushed. “I - yeah, maybe” She shook her head. “Dammit, Adora, stop deflecting! I asked about you.”

“I…” Adora hesitated, her free hand dropping to rest on the rooftop. She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on,” Catra scoffed. “You think I’m buying that?”

“I don’t know,” Adora insisted, pushing the hair that had fallen free from her ponytail behind her ear. “I’m just” - she silently cursed as she felt herself getting choked up - “so happy, because I love you and I want you to always be with me and now - now there’s no war that can take us away from each other. I’m… I’m allowed to want you, and to want to be with you. Although that probably makes no sense.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

Catra’s pupils had gone wide, and after a long pause she responded by pressing a fiery kiss to her lips, an unexpected reaction but certainly not an unpleasant one. Adora wasn’t complaining. “Say that again,” Catra mumbled against Adora’s lips. “Say that you want me.”

Adora almost had to fight to break away from the kiss, panting slightly from the intensity. “I want you,” she whispered, pushing her girlfriend’s bangs out of her face. The sincerity in her voice would have normally been terrifying but with Catra she wanted nothing more than to be completely honest. “I want you to be with me for the rest of my life. I want to be selfish. I want to be the only one who gets to call you mine.” She pressed a kiss to Catra’s face between each wish, moving from her nose to her cheek to back to her lips.

Catra’s confidence had long since been replaced by a crimson blush, which Adora did not mind, as flustered was a look she always loved to see on her girlfriend. “You know,” she muttered, leaning in to press their foreheads together, “I didn’t mean for you to start reciting wedding vows to me.”

Adora couldn’t help but laugh. “You know what a wedding is?”

“Mostly. Spinnerella explained it to me.”

“I bet that was an entertaining conversation.”

“Ugh. Netossa seemed to think so.”

Adora absentmindedly stroked Catra’s hair. She’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about marriage. Not much, obviously, because she’d been fighting a war her entire life, but the idea had crossed her mind once or twice. In some ways, a ceremony felt superficial, but being able to share such a blissful moment with friends and the immortalization of a relationship that came with it…

“We should get married,” she decided.

Catra sat bolt upright, pupils wide in surprise and face red in shock. “We should what?”

“Get married,” she repeated. “I want to be with you, you want to be with me. It would be a nice way to make things official, wouldn’t it?”

“Adora, we’re like - we’re not even 20,” Catra sputtered, her ears going flat to her head as her blush deepened. “I mean, I love you more than anything, but aren’t we - aren’t we kind of young?”

Adora could feel her own face turning pink in response as her brain finally caught up with the words that had been leaving her lips. “I - I didn’t mean now!” she stammered, desperately trying to figure out how to rephrase her thoughts. “I just meant, like, eventually, when we’re way older and after we’ve travelled around the entire universe restoring magic and… stuff…” She trailed off, and for a moment they just stared at each other, both too embarrassed to speak.

Catra was the first to break, losing herself in a fit of giggles as she leaned forward to press their foreheads together again. “Of course I’ll marry you one day, dummy. Then no one will ever doubt how much you want me.”

Adora flushed, but she couldn’t stop a happy smile from dancing on her lips. “Sorry that was such a weird proposal.”

“Everything you do is weird. I’m used to it.”

Adora laughed, pressing a light kiss to the top of her girlfriend’s nose. “Good.” Then an idea occurred. A brilliant idea, if she said so herself. Which she did. “So, until then…” She unpinned the golden wing from her belt before carefully attaching it to the left side of Catra’s shirt. “Just so everyone knows how much I love you.”

“More like how possessive you are,” Catra scoffed, though she was smiling as her hand brushed over the pin. “But I guess I’m in no place to say anything about that.”

Adora pressed a chaste kiss to her girlfriend’s lips. “You definitely are not.” She kissed her again, this time catching only the corner of her mouth. “But I love you anyways. I want you. And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

Catra began purring happily, the deep vibration only intensifying as Adora continued to pepper her face with kisses. “If this is your way of reminding me, I don’t see how I ever could.”

Adora started to laugh, but was soon cut off by Catra’s lips crashing against her own, her girlfriend pushing her down against the rooftop.

You deserve love, too.

Adora knew she would continue to struggle with Mara’s words. She knew she would continue to have difficulty grasping how love was freely given and required no sacrifice in return. But she also knew she was getting there. One day at a time.

And the best part?

Catra would always be at her side. Every step of the way.

~*~

[writingsfromstarfleet]

The Artist - Data X Reader

A/N: This wasn’t a request per say, though I know @sorlux did ask for some more Data, and here he is! Alas, I must admit: Do I hate this? Sorta. Do I know where I was going with this? Definitely not. Do I hope you all enjoy it regardless? Absolutely :’)

Art was a passion of yours, and had been as long as you could remember. Any form of material, be it a pen, paints, or clay, you were able to create something beautiful from it. Your family had always said you were gifted, and hoped for you to pursue a career in it. Instead, you had opted for a career in space. Your decision to join Starfleet over attending an art college was disappointing to your parents, though you knew in your heart they would still support it regardless. You were top of your xenobiology class, and had been offered a position on the USS Enterprise-D under Jean-Luc Picard, a well known captain amongst Starfleet cadets.

Two years had passed on the Enterprise, and you had made some wonderful friends amongst the crew. Least likely and yet possibly the closest one you had was with Data. He had become a very close friend, despite seeming closed off in the beginning. Now, however, you couldn't be more thankful for him. Data was a fan of the arts too, from music to craft, and that was how you bonded. Data was unaware of your talents in the creative department, it was something you had kept to your own whilst on the ship.

"Lieutenant Y/N, may I join you?" You smiled as you were greeted in Ten Forward by Data, looking up at the android and motioning for him to sit.

"Would I ever say no to you, Data?" You laughed, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement and sat. The silence was comfortable, the two of you just enjoying each others presence.

"Y/N, might I ask you something?" Data inquired, his usual tone of voice giving no emotions away. You smiled.

"Of course, what is it?"

"I have been writing another poem, and I was wondering if I could perform it to you before I read to the crew, and perhaps get your opinion on it?"

Your smile grew wider.

"Absolutely, Data. I have to head off back to work now, but how about you meet me in my quarters at 19:00 hours and you can show me then?"

"That would be acceptable. I shall see you then, Lieutenant," He nodded, and you squeezed his shoulder with a wink and left to return to your duties.

The day had dragged itself on, menial tasks here and there; a less exciting day than you were used to. Still, you had the night to yourself. Throwing on some old clothes and pulling out your draw full of art supplies, you began working once more on a brand new piece, a portrait of a woman. Portraits were never your speciality, though you felt it was time to branch out your line of style, and what better way to do it than to leave the comfort zone.

So engrossed in your art, not to mention the boredom of the day you'd had, it had completely slipped your mind that Data was due to arrive for his poetry reading at seven, of which it was currently quarter to. Still oblivious, you continued your art, humming and singing as you focused. The bell to your quarters startled you, and you panicked, trying your best to hide your art.

Dressed in clothes not covered in paint, and the canvas hidden badly behind the drapes on the wall, you opened the door and greeted Data with a smile.

"Data, apologies for the wait, do come in." You gestured for him to enter and stepped aside.

"No need for apologies, Y/N, I thank you for allowing me to perform for you." He pulled a couple of sheets of paper out and set them on the table.

"Mind if I grab a drink before you begin?" You asked, receiving a shake of the head from the android.

Standing, you left towards the small kitchen area of your quarters. Data took his time to study your quarters; they were kept neat and tidy, and exactly what he'd expect from you. His curiosity peaked when he caught sight of the corner of a canvas peeking out from behind some drapes. He stepped forward and pulled them back, revealing your half finished painting.

"Data" you said, voice monotone. You made no effort to move or cover it up; he'd already seen it.

"This is remarkable, Y/N. I was not aware you were a painter." Data's words carried a fascination reminiscent of a child. You half smiled and spoke up.

"Not something I shared, really. My parents weren't the biggest fans of me not pursuing it as a career, so I chose to do it silently after I joined Starfleet."

Data turned to you. "Why would you hide such a talent?" He sounded very much confused, astounded even.

"I don't know, shame I guess. I could have been the child my parents always wanted, the art major who went on to be big in that world, and instead I chose science and a life in space. Whenever I do art, I think of my family, and I think of how much I must have disappointed them, Data. Every time I reach for a brush I feel guilty, like I should be back at home rather than here."

You stopped talking when you felt tears running down your face, not noticing at first that you started to cry. Never had you spoken of how you felt about all of this, and here you were, unexpectedly opening up. Data, unfamiliar with human emotions, did his best to try and alleviate what you were feeling in that moment. He walked to you, and placed his hands on your shoulders, to which you responded by wrapping your arms around him. It was a silent exchange of care, one you appreciated very much.

"I'm sorry, Data, you're here for your poetry, not my therapy session" you joked, pulling back from him to wipe your eyes, though Data was having non of it. He sat you down and knelt before you.

"My poetry does not matter whilst you are hurting this much. You should never have to feel shame over choosing a life for yourself that you wanted. It is not your parents life, and you should not feel guilty for having such a talent." Data spoke softly, knowing that you needed to hear what he had to say. He was looking you right in the eye, and you knew everything he was saying was true. You had no reason to feel like this, they would be proud of the person you were now, regardless, and they would just be happy you kept on doing art as a hobby.

"You're right, Data. Thank you." Your words were quiet, but he heard them loud and clear. "Shall we get to your poetry then?" You chuckled slightly, as he held out a hand to help you stand, ever a gentleman.

Data's head twitched, as he pulled two paintbrushes out from behind his back.

"No, tonight, we are painting." He had what you could only call a look of mischief on his face, and as began to set up two easels side by side, you knew you had found a true soulmate in Data.

[wiener-soldiers]

operation omega - naked (iii)

summary: years after the avengers dismantle HYDRA, the group remerges more dangerous than ever. their modus operandi? infiltrating foreign governments, stealing and reproducing their weapons, and selling them to terrorist groups. when the us government approaches the avengers for help on a secret operation with a secret asset, they are reluctant to agree. it isn’t until their quinjet almost gets shot down in the middle of nowhere when the understand that omega means business.

pairing: bucky barnes x SEAL!reader

words: 2.5k

warnings: mild sexual tension, they’re kinda all naked

a/n: this is still exposition haha. also i barely edited this

taglist: add yourself here!

OPERATION OMEGA MASTERLIST

Omega, Bucky quickly learned, was nothing like the Avengers.

They weren’t independent, rather they were the collective asset of the allied nations.

They weren’t public figures, rather nearly no one knew they existed except for the people who can directly order them to go on missions.

They didn’t really have private lives; they were stationed at their base for months on end and were only allowed back home for a few weeks at a time.

And most noticeably, they weren’t superheroes, but they were badasses.

Omega had ex-Navy SEALs, Green Berets, Delta Force, CIA, and Air Force. Everyone on the Avengers, including the enhanced, were pretty intimidated by the lineup.

Bucky also noticed how they were all much more like a family. Not like the Avengers-dysfunctional-type family, but one that actually cares. He notices that despite prepping for missions, they still have happy hour on Friday night, movie night on Saturday night, and they actually enjoy training with one another.

One minor thing Bucky also noticed is how little clothes they all wear.

He honestly shouldn’t be that surprised. Though being in army camps seemed like a lifetime ago, something about the atmosphere screamed the lack of necessity for shirts.

And honestly, who wouldn’t want to show off how fit they all were?

The first instance he realized this fact was when he was in the medical wing to get his physical. Captain Y/N insisted that all the Avengers go in for a physical exam done by their in-house doctor, Dr. Marge Dean—who also happened to be an ex-Green Beret and CIA operative—just in case there were health issues that needed to be fixed before they went in the field.

Bucky’s appointment with Dr. Dean was scheduled for noon, but he got there five minutes before. Knocking softly on the door, a soft female voice said, “It’s open” before he pushed his way inside.

Dr. Marge Dean wasn’t alone in the room. Sergeant Dominick Stone, ex-Air Force pilot, was also there. He sat on the exam table across from Dr. Marge with his right hand heavily wrapped. The duo looked up at him and offered him a smile. He tries to ignore the fact that Dr. Marge was wearing nothing but short track shorts and a sports bra and Dominick was wearing nothing but boxers. If they’re comfortable with each other, then it can’t be that bad, Bucky tells himself.

“Afternoon. Doc, Sergeant,” Bucky nods at both of them, returning a smile.

“Please, James. Call me Marge,” Marge tells him softly as she finishes wrapping Dominick’s hand. “My abuella’s a doctor. I grew up with everyone calling her Doc, I guess I just haven’t gotten used to people calling people me that yet either,” she giggles softly.

Bucky smiles at her, “Marge it is.”

“I would shake your hand,” Dominick says as he hops off the exam table and waves his bandaged hand in the air, “but it’s a little hard right now.”

Bucky chuckles, “Don’t worry about it, Sarge. What happened?”

Dominick sighs and Marge chuckles as she cleans her equipment, prepping for Bucky’s physical exam. “It’s stupid,” the Sergeant sighs.

“Oh come on,” Marge starts, “I think it’s funny, Sarge.”

Dominick sighs, “I was sharpening my knife and I accidentally cut my hand really deeply.”

“A combat knife?” Bucky asks curiously.

Dominick sighs, “A kitchen knife.”

Marge bursts into another fit of giggle before patting the exam table, signalling to Bucky that she’s ready to start his exam. “Dom’s Ma is from Ghana. The first time we went home for our break, his Ma gave him the family fried rice recipe. He makes it for us every week,” Marge starts as she starts Bucky’s physical. He surprised at how calm she acts around his metal arm; whether it’s a telltale sign of a good doctor or a good person, Bucky doesn’t really care—the simple action allow Bucky to trust her.

“I was sharpening the kitchen knives because no one in this damn place will do it—”

“You said you found it relaxing, so we let you do it!”

“And I was distracted for a second and my hand slipped,” Dominick rolled his eyes and gestures to his hand again. “It’s not big deal. No stitches needed; I’ll be good in no time.”

Marge finishes monitoring Bucky’s breathing and moves on to taking his blood pressure. “All those extra bandages are just to make him feel better,” she jokes.

Bucky takes a deep breath, allowing his walls to come down a bit. “Well, Sarge, I’d love to try it sometime,” Bucky says with a smile that reaches his eyes. “Ya know, after your hand has healed an all,” he adds an on, jokingly.

Sergeant Dominick grins, “I go by Dom.”

“Fair enough. I go by Bucky.”

The second instance he realized the unspoken, no-clothes policy was later that week. That morning marked the second week that the Avengers were working with Omega. Slowly, they were fitting in with their new partners. Despite looking crazily similar, Bucky’s hunch that Steve and Jack may want to one-up each other was proven false. Steve and Jack bonded surprisingly fast from their shared interests in history, art, and their war experiences. Wanda got along really well with Dr. Marge as soon as the two girls realized they both had a passion for cooking and baking. Natasha got along with Second Lieutenant Abigail Lee, the resident engineer and ex-Green Beret weapons specialist, as soon as Natasha found out that Abigail loved stand-up specials as much as she did. Clint and Sam got along really well Sergeant John McBueller after drunkenly one night, John taught the two how to salsa the same way his mother taught him how to when he was younger. Tony gets along with the ever-so-clumsy Sergeant Dom because Dom is secretly a nerd about everything about the Iron Man suit and Tony thinks Dom is like a younger version of Rhodey.

The unlikely group of friends found themselves in the kitchen that morning. The ex-military individuals were still used to a waking up early so their training sessions normally takes place before breakfast, whereas the Avengers training sessions normally took place later at night, as the team is full of insomniacs.

Bucky, Steve, Tony, Clint, and Sam sat in the kitchen that morning. Tony was tinkering with a new gadget Bucky couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Steve was hunched over a tablet analyzing reports, Clint was looking over flight logistics, and Sam was switching his attention between sipping his coffee and making breakfast for everyone.

Bucky’s attention was concentrated at the laptop in front of him where he was analyzing old Avengers briefs for HYDRA missions. A fit of chatter take his attention away from the laptop. Salsa-dancing John McBueller and Dr. Marge walked into the kitchen, easy chatter flowing between them. His eyes widened at their wardrobe, John was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and Marge only sported a sports bra with her leggings, sweat dripping off the both of them.

In comparison, every Avenger was very clothed.

“Morning guys,” John called out, following Marge into the kitchen. Marge busied herself by making a protein shake for her and John, not noticing the stares both her and John were getting.

“Morning…” the Avengers mumbled.

“John you want banana in your shake?” Marge asked, not giving a care in the world.

“Hmm, yeah sure. Also, can you add peanut butter too?” John responses, easily as care-free.

“Are you guys always like this?” Tony asks, baffled at how casual they are.

“What?” Marge and John ask at the same time. Bucky chuckles at his expression.

“This…naked,” Tony says bluntly.

Another loud chuckle is heard down the hall and Dom and Abigail enter the kitchen next. The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirks upwards as soon as Tony’s eyes widen even more. Abigail was wearing nothing but a swimsuit and a flannel to cover up, her hair still wet from the laps she swam in the lake that morning. Unlike John, Dom was wearing a shirt, but his dripping wet swim trunks and open flannel—with nothing on underneath, to add—made his attire barely passible.

“Jesus, is your dress code basically nothing?” Tony remarks. He wasn’t surprised that every member of the Omega team was absolutely shredded. He was used to it in fact, as it usually isn’t surprising for Steve or Bucky or Sam to walk around shirtless. He was just surprised about the bluntness the Omega team had.

“Morning,” Bucky hears a final mumble. The group in the kitchen turns towards the sleepy voice; it was Y/N with Jack trailing into the kitchen behind her. Though he was used to seeing his new teammates so naked, his eyes widened at the sight of her. She wore nothing but pajama shorts and a lacy bralette. Jack shuffled in behind her, wearing nothing but boxers. Jack gently put a green flannel around her shoulders and Y/N mumbled a thanks.

“Sorry we woke up late and missed training. Pulled an all-nighter analyzing more intel and I didn’t realize I missed training,” Y/N mumbles.

“Jesus Christ, you guys are shameless. I dig it,” Tony says, mostly to himself.

Bucky can’t help but feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of Y/N. He normally was fine around naked girls. He was nowhere near the level of confident as he was when he was younger, but we was rarely flustered at the sight of one. He really tried not to stare, but the view of Y/N in nothing but comfy clothes wrapped around a flannel, laughing softly at something someone said over a cup of coffee was something that made Bucky’s stomach flip.

Oh, fuck. She’s so beautiful, Bucky thinks.

Bucky hears a soft chuckle behind him. He tilts his view backwards and sees Wanda (he isn’t exactly sure when she woke up and made her way to the kitchen) smirking at him. His eyes widen, Stop reading my mind, asshole.

Wanda’s smirk only widens.

Early the next morning, Bucky woke in a cold sweat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he looked around the unfamiliar surroundings before he slowly realized that we was in the Omega bunker, not his room at the Avengers’ tower.

Fucking nightmare, he sighs. His metal arms cramps, a symptom of the Phantom Limb Syndrome that he feels every now and then, especially after he has a nightmare. Bucky sighs and glances at the time: 5:11 AM.

He decided that sleep is so far behind him at this point, so Bucky rolls out of bed, pulls on a pair of workout shorts, and trudges out of the room.

As soon as he walks out into the hallway, the goosebumps on his bare bake perk up. Still, Bucky continues trudging towards the kitchen. He starts a pot of coffee and digs around the fridge for some food.

“Bucky?” someone calls out to him, startling him. He tries to lift his head out of the fridge, but he accidentally hits his head.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing the back of his head.

“Shit!” the voice calls behind him and he feels to warm hands wrap around his neck. “Are you okay?”

Bucky turns around and face Y/N, who’s hands are still on his neck. Bucky can’t help but notice that she’s wearing nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants. He gulps and trains his eyes on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No biggie,” he says weakly.

Y/N smiles softly, letting her hands fall. “What’re you doing up?” she asks softly, side-stepping around him to grab a banana from the counter.

Bucky exhales softly, hoping his breath isn’t shaky. “Nightmare,” he states bluntly, too tired to lie.

Her eyebrow raises, “Oh?”

“It was about, uh…how I lost my arm,” he says quietly, not meeting her eyes. “The dreams, I’m used to. It’s the pain from Phantom Limb Syndrome that usually wakes me up.”

“Biofeedback,” Y/N says simply.

“I’m sorry?”

“Talk to Tony about adding biofeedback and haptics to your metal arm so you can feel touch in that arm again,” Y/N responds, stepping closer to him. She reaches out for Bucky’s metal palm and drags a finger down it. Bucky doesn’t flinch; he knows what the feeling is supposed to feel like but it pains him that he can’t feel it. “I read an article talking about how biofeedback helped some patients overcome their Phantom Limb Syndrome…” she trails off, hoping she didn’t make it awkward.

“Thank you,” Bucky says sincerely, searching her eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, but the comforting look in her tired eyes say it all, you’re welcome.

Bucky continues to make his coffee and a breakfast omelette while Y/N sits at the island silently, eating her banana and observing him. It was 5:30 AM already, meaning she should have been out the door and starting her run. Instead, she watches how his back muscles contract as he cuts vegetable combined with the soft mechanical whir of his metal arm to create a mesmerizing scene.

Bucky speaks up, snapping her out of her trance, “What about you? What’re you doing up?”

“I normally go on a run right now,” she told him, casting her gaze towards his face. She notices how his unkempt hair dangles in front of his eyes and how she do desperately got the urge to push the hair out of his face to stare into his eyes.

“Don’t let me stop you then,” Bucky jests.

Y/N smiles at him, “Didn’t feel like it today. I like going on runs because it’s calming. Sitting here and watching you cook, it’s also…calming.”

Bucky had nothing to say to that, surprised by her honestly. Y/N is equally as surprised and hopes she didn’t make it weird. Apparently, she hasn’t because moments later, Bucky slides a serving of omelette for her as well.

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbles before digging in.

“Don’t mention it,” Bucky replies with kind eyes.

They eat in silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but a perfectly, intentionally quiet one—like if one of them spoke, it would ruin the calming and intimate emotion draped over the kitchen.

They both finish their meals and clean up the dishes. As Bucky is about to round the corner and head back into his room, Y/N calls out, “I would love to run with you, if you want.”

Bucky pauses mid-step and glances back at her, waiting for her to continue.

“There’s this trail that I made when we first moved here. It leads to a beautiful rock formation and a waterfall. I run there every morning,” Y/N gushed out. Bucky fully turned to look at her this time. “You’re welcome to join, if you want.”

Bucky smiles at her.

Bucky got a long really well with Captain Y/N Y/L/N after their quiet morning breakfast and confessions. Waking up to run with her is what make Bucky excited to wake up every morning.

[captainsassmanes]

Hi there :) if you're still taking prompts, could you please maybe do a post finale malex prompt where one of Alex's ex boyfriends from the military come to Roswell or get injured overseas and Alex freaks out. Thank you 😊 

Better late than never, right?  For @alexmanesairstream

Alex was a professional.  He knew exactly what he needed to do, how he needed to look, in order to appear as though he was in complete control of his emotions, his actions.  But this past month had been a test he wasn’t sure he would pass.

So much had been in flux and the logical side of his brain reminded him that people sought the things that brought them comfort in times of difficulty.  Watching Michael curl himself into Maria during the day and drink himself into oblivion at night, having to take shifts with Valenti to make sure Liz ate and slept at the lab, texting Isobel hourly to make sure she hadn’t blown something up and gotten hurt and swinging by the Crashdown daily to check in on Rosa and Arturo had become a regular routine.  

He was starting to think ‘make sure Alex didn’t fall down and break his leg from exhaustion’ should be on the list as well.

Today had been particularly challenging.  The group had gathered at the lab, Rosa staying in as seemed her comfort level for now.  Liz thought she had discovered a major breakthrough that she wanted to test out on Michael but, when he arrived at 10am,still wasted and slurring his bitter-laced words, chaos had erupted.  Isobel was furious from having her practice session disrupted, Valenti had used a lame excuse to get out of work and was worried he’d be written up soon, Maria was both trying to defend and chastise Michael and Alex was slowly trying to work his way to the door, his presence obviously not needed.  Maybe not even noticed.

In the noise of the room, Alex’s cell phone rang loud and clear.  Everyone paused their arguments, instead turning to Alex.  He fumbled with the phone, uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him but when he saw the number for his old military base he decided he had to answer.

“Hello.”

“Captain Manes?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Lieutenant James.  Do you have a second, sir?”

“Yes.  What is this in regards to?”

“Unfortunately I have some bad news.”  Alex felt his stomach roll.  He hadn’t heard from the military in weeks after his discharge.  “You’re still listed as an emergency contact for Airman Banks.  He was killed during exercises overseas last week.”

Alex turned his back to the room quickly.  He refused to share this with anyone else.  “Captain?”

He cleared his throat and offered a wobbled, “yes.  Was his family notified?”

“Yes, sir.  Services will be in Virginia next week.  Would you like me to forward you the information?”

“Yes,” he needed to clear his throat once again.  “Yes, please.  Thank you for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome, sir.  I’m sorry for your loss.”

Alex hung up the phone quickly and shoved it back into his coat pocket.  He stood frozen in place, the words ricocheting in his head while his blood pulsed in his ears.  He felt the room tip, a threw a hand out to catch himself on the closest wall.

“Whoa, you’re okay.  What was that?”  Alex heard the words but as though they had moved through molasses to get to his ears.  He turned his head to find a very concerned Valenti in his face.

Alex didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to ask anything of his body but he felt the tears coming as he began to shake.  Kyle must have felt him trembling, too, as he brought him in closer with the hand around his waist.

He didn’t need to turn around to know everyone was looking at him; Liz with a hand covering her mouth, Maria looking distressed, not knowing whether or not she was allowed to comfort her oldest friend and Michael, moving inch by inch, trying to get closer to Alex.

“Get me out of here.”  Alex didn’t recognize his own voice.  It was small and shook with every syllable.  Wet, too, with the tears that had begun to escape without his permission.

The lab, of course, was down a long, winding hallway in the basement of the hospital, which meant that Alex needed to ask his body to do something it literally wasn’t capable of.

Banks had been the only other man Alex had been with.  They were stationed together during basic and then for his first tour.  He had been kind and thoughtful, Alex vividly remembering the wonder he felt at Adam being in the military at all.  He loved animals and 90′s grunge.  They had bonded over music and Alex had fallen.  

Their few months together of paranoid hook ups and late night comfort while the others slept had gotten Alex through that first tour.  But Adam was content as an Airman and Alex had been offered a promotion almost immediately, ending their romance before it could become anything more.

Adam would always be special and, although they hadn’t spoken in nearly eight years, Alex thought about him often.  He had hoped Adam had served his time and gotten out, gone back to school, met a good man, had a house full of mutts to love.

That was over now.

A sob escaped and Alex couldn’t make his legs work anymore.  He collapsed against the wall, surprising Valenti who could do nothing more than try to lower Alex to the ground safely.  He swallowed as much air as he could but it wasn’t enough.  

“He’s dead.  He died.”  Alex turned in panic to Kyle who looked terrified.  Alex was their glue.  If he fell apart, what would the rest of them do?  “I can’t breath.”  Alex clawed at Kyle’s arms, trying to hold on.  Kyle wrapped Alex up and pulled him against his chest, rocking slightly on instinct.  “What do I do?  He died.  I can’t-I can’t.”

Kyle repeated, “it’s okay,” over and over in what he hoped was a calm, reassuring tone, but he never had to do this before.  Especially for the man who was always their shoulder to cry on.

“They all leave, Kyle.  Everyone leaves.”  The room began to dim and fuzz around the edges.  He felt strong hands on his face but couldn’t focus his eyes.

“Alex, you have to breath.  Can you copy me?  C’mon, in and out.  In,”  big breath.  “And out.”  

He tried, he really did.  But he couldn’t stop thinking of Adam, dying where he should have been safe; everything he should have said, thanking him for the comfort he brought Alex, the worth he helped Alex to feel.  Past Valenti’s face, Alex made out the shape of a cowboy hat and broad shoulders.  His imagination let him believe Michael was moving closer to him.  Maybe Michael wouldn’t leave him.  Maybe he had done enough after all for Michael to know how important he was to Alex.  Maybe he hadn’t made the same mistake with Guerin that he had with Adam.

But that cowboy was being held tightly by a slender shape burying her face in the place where Alex used to bury his.  

He focused back on Valenti, his only constant, but it was all too much.  

He hoped the darkness would let him rest for awhile.  

[phcking-detective]

First Blood Update (7)

greetings, robots, androids, and delicate flesh vessels!

First Blood will go live with chapter one posted on here and to AO3 on July 7th! It's ~128k long, 33 chapters (down from 34 bc two got squished together), and rated E for language, violence, and graphic sexual content. It will update once a week on Sundays.

Just because they've been partners (and fucking around) for a few months now, doesn't mean Gavin likes the android or anything. But after they catch a routine suicide case Gavin knows is a murder and Nines is the only one who believes him, and they start hanging out together after work—just in case a new lead breaks—and bond over mutually wanting to beat the shit out of Connor … OK, so maybe they hold hands once or seven times. Maybe Nines listens to all his crazy theories about a mysterious android manipulating the stock market and hacking other androids. Maybe he steps in front of a few bullets for Gavin and they get captured and tortured together and maybe Gavin lies to IA about what happened for him.

Maybe he realizes he'll never find a better partner, but that doesn't mean any of this is romantic—and it's not because he's an android, it's because Gavin knows he's a piece of shit who doesn't deserve this.

But maybe he can still have it anyway.

I'll also post chapters on a Patreon I made to raise some money for seeing a therapist while I work on my transition as a trans man so I can stop dipping into my savings! Link is here, the tiers are $1/$2/$3, and details are below the cut~

$1 Officer Tier – you get access to chapters one week earlier than they post on AO3 or tumblr, so you can read chapter one starting June 30th! You also get to vote in fun little polls about the fic and patreon rewards, ie: if I get X number of patrons, I'll post bonus content from the other tiers, and you'd get to enjoy that even if you're not subscribed to those tiers

$2 Detective Tier – you get lots of cool bonus content and deleted scenes! bonus content means little drabbles I've written, some background info that didn't make the fic, and a backstory for Nines. deleted scenes are the little filler moments that got cut to help streamline the plot, like Gavin and Tina play-wrestling each other, Gavin helping Nines get more hits than Connor on his blog, Nines thinking a lot of deep heavy thoughts in the shower, etc.

$3 Lieutenant Tier – you get exclusive access to ~1k chapters each week from two AUs I'm currently writing! A/B/O AU: Detective Gavin Reed has never needed a partner and he sure as hell doesn't need an Alpha. It's not like anyone would want to bring home a bitter, scarred Omega insistent on having a professional career to meet their parents anyway. Then Nines is assigned as his partner. He's finally found an Alpha he can actually work with, but the android worries about the quality of "partners" Gavin brings home during his heat—and is determined to prove he can do better.

Reverse AU: Detective Richard Stern doesn't need a sober companion just because he had one  mental breakdown, stabbed himself during an interrogation, and screamed his throat raw inside the elevator. He's never done any sort of drugs, only been drunk once in his life, and has the highest case clearance in the department. But when Captain Manfred says it's that or lose his job, the only control Nines has left over the situation is who gets assigned as his "companion." Luckily, his favorite informant GV200 "Gavin" Reed, has a background in personal nutrition, fitness, and—massage. He's also Richard's secret crush. How could this possibly go wrong?

The patreon charges per chapter, so you only pay when I post chapters each week on Sunday. That's roughly four times a month, and again, chapters post one week earlier than AO3 and tumblr. The tiers also stack, so you get the tiers below yours as well!

Right now, I'm very lucky to be in therapy with a great therapist who specializes in LGBT+ issues and gender transitioning specifically. But I'm dipping into my savings to be able to afford it, and I'm only going once every other week when I really feel like I need weekly sessions to stay on track and make progress. I'd really love to raise some money with the patreon to help pay for that!

Just to make it clear though, the full entire fic will be available FOR FREE on AO3 and tumblr. The bonus content and deleted scenes come from stuff that was fluffy but didn't really help move the plot or character development, honestly a little too OOC for me to include, or didn't narratively fit with the rest of the fic. None of it is necessary to understand the fic or Gavin and Nines' relationship. The patreon is just for anyone who would like to basically donate to me, but you still get some cool stuff in return because I love you~

[wolfespuppies]

This is what was going to be the second chapter of Bonds Profound and Intimate, before the masquerade ball forced its way into my head and refused to leave. It’s unfinished, but I thought you might enjoy it anyway!

Santi and Zara have a tradition of sorts, of taking new recruits out for drinks for team bonding. That these events have a habit of turning into ‘how many shots can we make the Captain do’ is brushed over by both of them. Zara enjoys drunk Santi too much, and Santi enjoys the chance to let loose too much. He is very much aware that Zara is the instigator of these things, but he doesn’t care.

“Rule One.” Santi picks up his shot glass and waits for the new recruits to do the same. They’re an eager bunch, both on the field and off, and they raise the glasses quickly. There’s a line of them on the table in front of them, five for each person. They’ve been drinking for about an hour already and it’s time for their traditional ‘five rules’ game. “Don’t let Lieutenant Cole pick your drink.”

The three of them that had made that mistake widen their eyes and look in horror at their glass. Santi smirks and waits. Zara likes to pick the weirdest liquors possible – her choice this evening is Baijju, a Chinese spirit that is very definitely an acquired taste, one that Santi has not acquired. The three unlucky ones brace themselves and take the shot, and to their credit take it with grace. The one who chose her own downs her vodka shot with aplomb, and Santi does the same. Zara is the last one to go, wiping her mouth and slamming the glass down with relish.

“Rule Two. No fighting.” She eyeballs Santi as she says this, and he has the grace to blush a little. The recruits, sensing a story, down their drinks with eagerness and turn to Santi as one.

“I may have got into one or two bar fights in my time.” He admits.

“Or five or six.” Zara corrects with a grin.

“Or five or six. Anyway. Moving on.”

“Don’t we get to hear the stories?”  one asks, a young man known as Troll, grinning.

“No. Rule Three: No shop talk.” This one doesn’t need explaining. The recruits may be new, but they’ve got enough experience to realise that these drinking sessions are to get away from their day to day, and therefore no shop talk is an eminently sensible rule. They down their shots as one and turn to Zara for the fourth rule. Before she can speak, there’s a natural lull in conversation in their booth and the ones surrounding them, enough for everyone to hear loud and clear, “Wolfe is such an arrogant prick.”

Zara immediately reaches over and grabs Santi by the shoulder, pressing him back down into his seat – he’d started to rise seemingly without realising.

“Leave them be.”

“But-“

“Nic.”

The recruits look between them with a growing sense of amusement and the sudden knowledge of why Rule Two exists. They know at this point of the relationship between Scholar Wolfe and Captain Santi – they’d be blind not to, quite honestly - and they know about the Captain’s hair trigger when it comes to things he’s passionate about and put the two together quickly.

Santi looks mutinous for a moment before subsiding, accepting that starting a fight over one comment would be a little too much.

“Rule Four: - “

Before Zara can get any futher, the comment-maker pipes up again, this time loud enough to be heard over the renewed hubbub, loud enough that Zara sighs internally and externally, knowing the soldier in question is spoiling for a fight, and Santi and Wolfe happen to be an easy target when the captain is present.

“Can’t believe Santi went for him. He can do so much better- “

“Like you, maybe?”

The soldier who made the comments squeaks in a rather undignified manner as Santi appears behind his chair, voice as charming as ever.

“Rule Four: Don’t insult Wolfe where the captain can hear you.” Zara informs the recruits, before crossing her arms and leaning back to watch the proceedings.

“Lieutenant Spinner, isn’t it?”

The soldier in question seems to have recovered his wits remarkably quickly, especially faced with Santi’s grin that has perhaps too many teeth to be entirely comfortable and leans back in his own chair.

“That’s me.”

“You think you could get me?”

“Sure. Your Scholar can’t be much fun in bed, he’s so uptight, surprised you can get anything in. Or maybe it’s him who does the fucking.”

Santi raises an eyebrow, as does Zara. She’s heard enough stories and knows more than she ever cared to about Santi and Wolfe’s sex life to know it’s the exact opposite of boring.

“Come on then. If you think you could get me, come take me.” Santi grins again, shit-eating and as confident as ever, but the other soldier, to his credit, doesn’t back down.

“Alright. I’ll show you what you’re missing out on.” His friends woop and clap him on his back as he stands up and moves into the aisle, stumbling slightly as he trips over the table leg, gripping the edge of the table to stop himself falling. Santi’s grin only grows wider as he watches this. He doesn’t bother dropping into a ready stance as Spinner does – the other man is drunk enough that even this movement has him stumbling over his own feet a little.

Spinner throws the first punch, but it’s so wildly off mark that Santi doesn’t even have to move to miss it. The second isn’t much better, but the third would have glanced off his cheek if Santi hadn’t moved to the side at the last second.

“You’re not convincing me. Maybe my arrogant prick of a Scholar is the better man after all.” He goads and gets the intended response of another attempt at a punch. This one gives Santi the opening he needs, to grab the other mans arm, step to one side and bring it up, forcing Spinner against the nearest table before he even knows what’s happened. Santi gives him a second before letting him up for round two. A lunge has Spinner stumbling past Santi, moved along with a kick to the seat of his trousers.

“Nah, I think I’ll stick with Wolfe. At least he can hold his own in a fight, and he’s only a Scholar.”

 (Santi gets a dressing down from his commander the next day, but seeing as she’s fighting a grin throughout, and the other soldier gets transferred to London the same day, he doesn’t think he’s in too much trouble.)

(The dressing down he gets from Wolfe is infinitely more pleasurable)

[ochaka-archive]

Kazui, Ichika and Nemuri headcanons! (teen)

I'll jump straight into it!

Kazui

-He's a sporty boy and plays many sports. His favorite is basketball, he loves water related sports too. He goes on tournaments often and Orihime makes him special snacks. He's immune to the odd taste and likes then usually.

-He has many admirers and friends. He doesn't have crushes on anyone in particular. Kids, and girls especially fight for his attention.

-He aspires to be like his parents when he grows up. He has powers really similar to his parents but sort of enhanced.

-He has many aunties and uncles from various different realms. Birthdays are very crowded for him. His room is crowded with toys and various thingies.

-He developed a really strong bond with both Karin and Yuzu, since he lived with them since early childhood. He loves spending time with them. Unconsciously he sees them as older sisters.

-He loves hanging out with Ichika and Nemu. Ichika visits fairly often and usually stays with the Kurosakis. He loves her as a friend very much. (maybe more later? maybe?)

-Nemu is kinda like Uryū as she is somewhat like a rival towards Kazui. He doesn't mind and still looks to her for some wise advice.

-He cooks with Orihime! Ichigo is usually relieved when he cooks since Orihime's food tends to be a little harsh for your stomach.

-He becomes shy and awkward but never stops smiling when a serious matter occurs, that he needs to discuss.

-Even as a teen he loves hugging both his parents. They love hugging him too. He's a big hug monster to the people he loves.

-He's protective of his mother and doesn't appreciate older gentlemen eyeing her when they go for a walk. He tells Ichigo all about it and he gets the job done. Kazui smiles when he sees those same men running away when they see him and his mother.

-He's really close with Grimmjow and Nel. Specifically when he goes on crazy adventures with Grimmjow. He scared little Kazui to tears when he was little but he grew on him. Grimmjow refuses to say he likes the kid, but Ichigo and Orihime know. They also know he's not allowed in a million different places in Japan. However it's completely different with Nel. She usually goes to fun theme parks with Kazui and has a lot of fun. In the end Kazui is the one babysitting her. He gets a little sick of certain rides after Nel repeatedly wants to go on them. He thinks she's a masochist because of that, and he's not wrong.

Ichika

-She's very feisty and quick to anger. She bites with her words more than she would want, which causes many apologizing sessions.

-She picks on Kazui a lot. She stretches his cheeks when he's being silly, usually accompanied with berating and sly remarks. Despite that, she cares for him deeply and looks out for him more than anyone would think. She protects him from bullies, harm and whatnot.

-She's very artistic! In contrast to her mother she draws very well and she's really talented. She mainly draws cute chibis or bunny girls.

-She acts a lot like Ichigo. To Rukia's dismay she often disagrees with her and it drives both Rukia and Renji nuts. Since she spends a lot if time at the Kurosakis, she heard many stories about Kazui's dad when he was young. She has a great bond with Orihime and Ichigo.

-She's a supportive friend. She always tells Nemu she's very pretty when she wears her makeup, and that she doesn't need it. She picks up Kazui when he's feeling down and is overall a great shoulder to cry on.

-She goes on field trips to Rukongai. She's a local idol. She plays and looks after the kids, helps old people and does her best to keep them safe. Renji and Rukia are very proud of her for it.

-She has a million Chappy plushies and charms from Rukia. Rukia says she's as cute as Chappy. While Ichika appreciates the gesture very much, it dies get too much when the Chappys get bigger than her small mother. She gives Rukia backrubs after she hurts her back from the huge plushes. It gives Renji a huge laugh.

-She would eventually join the 11th division. She's super cool with Kenpachi because of it. Kenpachi wants to fight Kazui to her dismay. She reprimands her captain a lot. She reminds most of Yachiru when she was little.

-She carries her zanpakuto around everywhere when she's in the human world. Most the kids fear her the same way they feared Ichigo. Girls try to talk to her and find she's a big jokester and that she really isn't as bad as she seems.

-She's secretly jealous of girls who approach Kazui hoping to date him. She tells Kazui they're bad news and Kazui just listens to her. Perhaps he knows why she's like that.

-She mostly trains with her father. They share a sweet bond. Sometimes though it's not as sweet as it is scary since they become really competitive. Rukia usually ends up being a victim if their shenanigans. Instead of giving them icepacks and bandages, she has to get some for herself too. She doesn't mind as long as both Ichika and Renji are happy.

-Her favorite animal is a cat. She likes drawing cats as well. That if course means she's pretty good with Yoruichi. She considers her her favorite teacher. Kisuke is not very dear to her.

Nemuri

-She's a big bookworm. She loves reading and being smarter than everyone. She hopes to be her father's lieutenant when she grows up. She works hard and studies for that.

-Kazui's relaxed attitude often annoys her but she cools down once she sees he can be serious. She still reprimands him when he does reckless things, however.

-She wears make up in a similar fashion to her father. White eyeliner and wing, navy blue wing above that and gold eyelashes on the ends of them. She also wears red lip gloss.

-She's great friends with Ichika. Those two basically grew up together, so naturally they'd be close. She usually holds Ichika back from doing anything which is a danger to herself. Ichika hates when she pulls her by her ponytail. In fact, Nemu started styling her hair in a similar fashion and also sports a ponytail. She has a white bow holding it as well.

-She admits her father is rather quirky but he's different around his daughter. He spoils her a lot and takes care of her health. In his odd way, he's a great father.

-She likes rain and water. She and Ichika go to Kazui's sport tournaments and she enjoys them a lot. She photographs everything and makes albums for everyone.

-Nemu is in the 12th division of course. She's very liked for her research and many young shinigami like her because she oddly mature for her age. Even thigh she loves experimenting with her father, she prefers psychology.

-She rarely shows sadness but when she does be prepared for ghibli sized tears! She's more likely to be smiling and chuckling than crying. However most of the times she's kinda sarcastic and snarky.

-She often asks Ichika to draw pretty girls. Ichika is more than happy to make drawings for a friend but she always asks why so many girls. Nemu never replies, or she just changes the subject.

-She is fascinated with hollows and arrancars. She hopes to meet an arrancar. Little does she know of Kazui's "fun outings" with two of them. Of course she eventually learns about it but is too shy to ask.

-She really loves sweets. She will often do the dumbest of things for a candy she's never tried. Kazui and Ichika take advantage of that sometimes.

-She feels pain less than most people would. That of course means she lacks empathy when Kazui scratches his knee or when Ichika hits her head against a wall. However she tells them to look out often as she's aware of her odd condition.

Alright! That's about it for now! You're more than welcome to disagree with me but please don't be rude! I hope you enjoy however.

[pikarino-blog1]

Of Cynicism and Soulmates

In this AU when you touch your soulmate skin to skin for the first time sparks fly literally. Depending on the strength of the bond though the reaction is stronger/weaker. For example minimal sparks for weak bonds and for extremely strong bonds shit literally explodes.

This is set right after Jim takes the Kobayashi Maru test for the third time. Warning minor violence(pushing, punching, choking etc) and swearing.

Kirk

They say that when you meet your soulmate sparks fly, quite literally in fact. People went crazy over the idea of meeting their soulmate but James Tiberius Kirk never found much solace in the idea of someone made for him, neither did his best and only friend Bones. Both were quite cynical people when it came to love or happiness in general. Bones had fallen in love before and even though they were soulmates she quickly became dissatisfied with him and took everything they ever had including his young daughter, Joanna. Leaving him only his bones as he had once so eloquently said.

Jim however had never wanted a soulmate. He’d heard countless stories of how the great George Kirk saved 800 lives in under 20 minutes but it paled in comparison to what he saw. He saw a woman wracked by grief. A woman who cried herself to sleep. A woman who couldn’t bare to look at him or even love him because to her he was a ghost, a ghost of her dead soulmate. So no Jim Kirk didn’t want a soulmate. He didn’t want any single person to hold that much power over him.

So our desolate hero stood finishing his last beer, blood dripping down his face and left. He wobbled his way to his dorm very obviously drunk off his ass. When he collapsed on the couch Bones quickly turned him on his side. “You’ll choke on your own vomit laying like that kid, not that that wouldn’t be a good thing.” He said in a gruff voice. Jim let out a little giggle, Bones have a little smirk at the sound. “Yeah yeah kid get some rest or I’ll hypo you.” Jim only groaned before falling into darkness.

———————————————

When Jim woke the next morning he was groggy and there was drool coming out of his mouth. However most noticeably his mouth tasted disgusting, god how many time had he puked, he wondered to himself. He groaned and stretchers out his sore back. Just then an announcement rang out “Would all students report to the main hall.” Jim got up quickly almost falling over and rushed to get dressed, no way was he going out looking like a mess and smelling like a bar.

Bones was waiting for him at the door and they headed out together. “What did you do this time you idiot?” Bones questioned only half joking. Kirk just shrugged and shoved his hands in his pocket. Upon arrival in the main hall Jim and bones sat next to each other and waited until everyone settled down.

When everyone had been seated Admiral Barnett called from the podium. “This session has been called to resolve a troubling matter. James T. Kirk, step forward. Cadet Kirk, evidence has been submitted to this council, suggesting that you violated the ethical code of conduct pursuant to Regulation One-Seven point three of the Starfleet Code. Is there anything you care to say before we begin, sir?” Jim joined him up front and immediately went into genius mode.

“Yes, I believe I have the right to face my accuser directly.” Jim said slightly annoyed. A man rose from the audience. A Vulcan man by the looks of his ears and the oh so signature bowl cut. “Step forward, please. This is Commander Spock. He's one of our most distinguished graduates. He's programmed the Kobayashi Maru exam for the last four years. Commander?” The man- Commander Spock joined them at the front.

Spock looked at him blankly which should have made him mad but strangely left him with tingles running up his spine. Confusion flickered through his eyes and he spoke. “Cadet Kirk, you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine to the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test.” Jim felt slightly miffed were these men accusing him of cheating? “Your point being?” Jim replied. “In academic vernacular, you cheated.”

Barnett spoke again after a long while and yup he was definitely being accused of cheating. “Let me ask you something, I think we all know the answer to. The test itself is a cheat, isn't it? You programmed it to be unwinnable.” Jim felt slightly victorious when it took the Commander a second to reply Jim felt slightly victorious. “Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario.” Jim replied quickly and simply with “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Then, not only did you violate the rules, you also failed to understand the principle lesson.” Spock said brusquely you could tell he was becoming a little frustrated or maybe only Jim could either way that's besides the point. “Enlighten me.” Jim stated quirking his eyebrow. Spock obliged “You of all people should know, Cadet Kirk. A Captain cannot cheat death.”

It was then that Kirk started to get a little upset as even Vulcans must know that bringing up someone’s dead parent to use against hem in an argument was a big no-no. “I of all people.” Jim relied tersely gritting his teeth. “Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?” Spock seemed satisfied with himself Jim really wanted to punch that look in his eyes off his face.

“I don't think you like the fact that I beat your test?” Jim tried to deflect although he could already tell that it wouldn’t work. Spock gave him a once over and then continued on with his line of conversation. “Furthermore you ah e failed to divine the purpose of this test.” “Enlighten me again.” Jim snarked back.

“The purpose is to experience fear. Fear in the face of certain death. To accept that fear, and maintain control of oneself and one's crew. This is a quality expected in every Starfleet captain.” Spock said matter-of-factly. Just then a man ran to the front of the room and handed Admiral Barnett a folder. “We've received a distress call from Vulcan. With our primary fleet engaged in the Laurentian system, I hereby order all cadets to report to Hangar One immediately. Dismissed.”

Spock looked a little shocked and concerned at the Admiral’s words and quickly left. Bones walked into him and stood by his side. “Who was that pointy-eared bastard.” Jim said annoyed. Bowen just smirked at him and offered an “I don’t know, but I like him.”

———————————————

Bones had snuck him on the USS Enterprise as a patient. Which had then been followed by him warning Captain spoke of an upcoming Romulan attack. The destruction of Vulcan and his marooning on the Class M planet Delta Vega. Which to say the least had not been pleasant. Currently though he was on the bridge of the Enterprise trying emotionally compromise a Vulcan.

After a couple of minutes of taunting Spock he finally hit a nerve in saying, “You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you! You never loved her!” Spock lunged at him all semblance of control gone. Jim found it hot in an extremely scary way. Spock pushed him back by his shoulders. Kirk tried to block his punches but Spock only pressed on undeterred. In a flash Spock’s hand was around his neck choking his as he was pressed against the captain’s console.

Suddenly an explosion erupted from between them. Sulu and Chekov had to duck as other crew members dived away from the explosion. When it finally died down and most of the fires had been put out it seemed no one had been hurt, just severely amazed. Bones looked like he was gonna piss himself he was so surprised meanwhile Chekov and Sulu were peering their heads over their chairs and Spock, oh Spock, looked to be in complete disbelief.

“Well fuck.”

[zippdementia]

Part 76 Alignment May Vary: Portents and Prophecies

Welcome to the continuing adventures of Alignment May Vary, our twice a month gaming group! We’ve been playing the same narrative for three years this month, with tons of twists and turns along the way. You can now hear the dramatized episodes at our website, Alignment May Vary.

In the last session, long time player character Aldric was killed by another player character, Imoaza, in an unseen betrayal out in the cold of space. Carrick, the third PC, is unaware of the betrayal as the group tries to figure out what to do about their current predicament.

Days pass. The situation on board the (still unnamed) Surveyor ship goes from desperate to grim. The power surge used to fight off the asteroid spiders has left the ship’s crystal depleted. What fuel they have is being used to keep life systems active, but this will fail within the week and the party is adrift in some unknown corner of space, surrounded only by asteroid dust and the wreckage of previous ships who have become stranded here.

The dreadful monotony, the slow wait for the end, is broken by one major event: a capsule adrift in the wreckage around them suddenly comes to life and starts sending out a signal. Retrieving it and bringing it on board, Carrick and Imoaza find it is a life capsule identical in most ways to the one they saw Carrick’s double in, back on Faerun. That tells them this is Surveyor technology, though it looks older even than that capsule. Carrick, accessing his Surveyor memories, figures out how to open the capsule, to reveal...

... nothing. The capsule is empty.

But it wasn’t empty very long ago. Its inhabitant has the ability to shift through space using the ethereal plane and now he appears beside the party, a hulking humanoid robot with red glowing eyes who raises his hand to stri-- or no, raises it in greeting to Carrick.

“Ah! Greetings. My name is Milosh. Are you the Surveyor?”

“No,” Carrick replies. “At least not the one you are probably looking for.”

“Ah! My visual senses tell me you are a 93% match for the Surveyor. Ah! I have come to serve the surveyor and stop the prophecy.”

Meet Milosh, our new PC (following Shando, Abenthy, Trakki, and Aldric... we’ve had quite a few player characters over the course of this epic).

Milosh, the Seeker of Prophecy

Milosh is a Warforged out of the recent Wayfinder’s Guide to Eberon. He is, visually, a little like a Mechanical Groot. He is, personality wise, a lot like the Paper Clip office assistant from 1997′s Microsoft Word. His backstory is that he was created by one of the Surveyors ages ago, centuries ago, to hunt down and stop a certain prophecy, a prophecy we’ve heard about before, involving the three figures: a devil, an angel, and a dragonborn. But while he was traveling to his destination, which would eventually become known as Faerun, his ship was caught in the Asteroid Spider’s webs and destroyed. He managed to escape and has been floating in stasis ever since. In the ages that have gone by, his memory banks have been damaged and now he cannot recall the full prophecy or even his full abilities. But he does know how to transform his right arm into a variety of weapons and tools and uses this to form a variety of special attacks, including a photon blast and a drill arm.

His personality is a little... simple. He says “Ah!” before every sentence, usually while holding up a finger, and runs off of very literal interpretations of his surroundings, relying on old programs in his working memory banks to get him through situations like combat or social etiquette.

This leads to some awkward (and funny) moments, such as when the party tells Fiona that Aldric has passed. She isn’t sure how to respond and also being a robot doesn’t do the best job of it...

“Where is Aldric? He’s dead?? Oh! I guess... Wow!”

... but she tries to give Milosh some advice, at least. Fiona tells him that bad news is best given with a smile and exuberance. And his response...

“Ah! I am unable to smile.”

The group also tells Milosh about the suspected traitor somewhere on the ship, the one who changed the bearings on the party in the first place, dropping them on Hell, and the one who erased the footage showing evidence of the deed. Milosh agrees to try and help them discover who the traitor is.

Good Moments of Interlude and Development

This session was mostly interlude, originally meant to be a quick connection to the next event, but the players got really into the roleplaying here and so the session became an elongated exploration of the personalities on the ship and their response to the various situations going on. Here are the best moments...

Milosh, with the help of Fiona, tries to access his old memories and also hack into the computer mainframes and learn more information about the traitor. What follows is a fun little hacking mini-game, where Milosh has to devote different levels of energy to different tasks, increasing his chances in some and decreasing it in others, then rolling to see what is successful. Ultimately, he fails to access any thing coherent from his memories, and he also fails to pull out any detailed information about the traitor, but it is still a good moment of personality development for him and gives us a chance to play around with some improvised mechanics. It also sets up the next good scene...

While Milosh plays around inside his head, Carrick and Imoaza decide the best clue they have for discovering the traitor is the ripped piece of leather. They go to talk to Krisp, who has leather gloves, and who the find in the darkened and otherwise empty bridge, staring out into space. This is a good roleplaying moment, as the three of them talk about Aldric. Imoaza keeps her cool and neither of them suspects that she actually murdered Aldric. Krisp is depressed, and asks Carrick if he ever just looked out at it all, at space. He is not his usual boisterous self and is instead contemplative, saying that this is never how a captain thinks they are going to end their days, but now he has captained TWO ships to his death. He also says that it wasn’t fair Aldric had to die, while Krisp had two chances to live his life. Carrick asks about the Horn of Green Company and the horn gets bequeathed to Carrick and renamed the Horn of Silent Sounding, for its power has fallen quiet and it makes no sound. This scene is interrupted by Milosh accidentally tying his memory visions into the bridge mainscreens, replacing the view of the stars with a crazy scene of Nazragul proclaiming his dominion over the world and flashes of an Aasimir and a Tiefling they don’t know. Carrick asks Krisp if he ever knew a Tiefling, and Krisp responds he did, then says it couldn’t possibly be the same one. The whole time, Imoaza is trying to look at Krisp’s gloves, but she ultimately sees no rip or tear.

Carrick meets up with Alyss, who says she wants to celebrate Aldric’s memory. She had built him a bike in secret and planned to teach him to ride, but now instead she gets high with Carrick on some drugs and takes him for a race around an empty cargo bay. The two sit for a long time, reminiscing and bonding until Carrick realizes she always wears a leather jacket. He asks for it, and she thinks he is coming on to her. Thus follows a pretty amazing scene, where Carrick is examining the jacket, then looks up to see Alyss is down to her bra. He is stunned, even more so when she leans in to kiss him. He tells her awkwardly he is a virgin and that he can’t do this, that he isn’t in a headspace to do it. Alyss is surprised and feels a little dumb herself for jumping to conclusions. She ends up telling him it doesn’t have to be awkward between them and not to worry. However, as she is getting dressed, Carrick notices that she has recently covered a hole in her jacket with a new patch. In honor of Aldric (it reads, “The Green Company”) but there is a lingering question now as to her innocence.

There is a funeral for Aldric, with some suitably bad speeches from Krisp. Among the lines he offers are this gem: “We will all be dead soon, but that’s longer than Aldric got.” Milosh accesses his memory banks and uses his vocal processor to play sad music in honor of Aldric. Aldric’s goblin kids are there, Alyss is there... heck, everyone is there except, noticeably, Otto (one of Krisp’s lieutenants). We’ll come back to this in a moment...

Maybe my favorite moment is when Milosh and Carrick hunt down Alyss, with the goal of figuring out if she was the traitor. Milosh asserts he has sensors in his hands that can detect traces of DNA on the leather scrap and, if he can gain physical contact with Alyss, he can see if the DNA is a match. Carrick agrees they should try it and so they find Alyss near her chambers in the mid section of the ship and Carrick introduces her to Milosh.

It’s such a great scene. There is some sexual tension left over between Alyss and Carrick and Alyss plays it up for fun, making Carrick as uncomfortable as possible. Then, knowing Milosh is such an outrageously naive personality makes all of his approaches to the situation hilarious. He boldly sticks out his hand and says (ah!) he understands that humans have a custom wherein they must grip hands when they meet and he would be delighted to try it. Bemused, Alyss takes his proffered hand and Carrick breathes a sigh of relief, thinking they now have their sample. Then Milosh says, “Ah! Now we must stay like this for two minutes.”

“It takes that long to get a sample?!” Carrick whispers in Milosh’s ear.

“Yes,” Milosh explains loudly. “This process takes five minutes to gather the appropriate data.”

Now thoroughly wierded out, Alyss extracts her hand from Milosh’s grip and he fails to get the sample. So then he tries another tact: he asks to see her jacket. Suspicious now, Alyss asks why and Carrick stutters and speaks for him, saying that he’s hoping Milosh can make a copy of it for him to wear. Milosh barely registers that this is an attempt at skullduggery and manages to keep silent until Alyss, after a brief hesitation, agrees to the request. “This your new wingman, Carrick?” she asks, making light of the situation. Carrick doesn’t get the joke. Alyss sighs and explains, “because he got my shirt off for you, again. Nevermind...”

Milosh examines the jacket while Carrick tries to distract Alyss, asking about Otto’s absence from the funeral. She says she hadn’t noticed, but then she hasn’t seen him around in a couple of days.

Suddenly Milosh says, “Ah! Surveyor, I have new information! The sample matches the jacket.”

Now armed with evidence, Carrick turns on Alyss and confronts her, demanding to know why she erased the footage of the ship’s sabotage. She cocks her head and says, as if it’s obvious, “Because I didn’t want you to see that it was me on the footage.”

And right on cue, hearing this, Milosh says, “Ah! Surveyor, I have new information!” As if that wasn’t painfully obvious.

Alyss proceeds to give an explanation for her actions, though not an apology. She says that in life, she was the leader of a powerful cult that worshipped Asmodeus and in death she sought to join his retinue in Hell, only to find he had disappeared during the Blood War. Obsessed with finding him, she wanted to bring to pass the prophecy that the Abyss would return if a devil ever left Hell. To do that, she needed outsiders to come with a ship. She secretly resurrected old technology, excavating it from the deserts around the Hell city, and eventually built herself a ship capable of at least leaving the atmosphere. She also fixed up tech that could detect when a ship would pass through Hell’s space. That is how she found and got onboard the Surveyor’s ship.

“I checked the original coordinates, you know,” she tells Carrick. “It was heading for a corner of space ruled by the Mind Flayers. That would have been a bad fate for you all, if you’d even survived to see it. By the time I boarded your ship, a critical failure had occurred in one of your engines. You had left warp space and were drifting slowly towards your destination on momentum alone. It would have been centuries before you reached it. In a way, I saved you by bringing you down to Hell.”

She further tells him that she has a piece of Asmodeus which she will use to find his body in the Abyss, once the way becomes clear. But she does not elaborate more and, not seeing her as an immediate threat, Carrick lets her go to contemplate what all this might mean.

Moving On

During the funeral Imoaza happens to spot Otto down a corridor and he is acting very strange, walking around stiffly and stopping to stare directly at her. Curious, she follows him down several corridors to a large room where she sees Otto addressing in a foreign language all of the Fiona and Bobs, the androids of the ship, gathered and floating cross legged in the air. Startled, she tries to flee, but suddenly is targeted by a psychic attack! Fending off visions of Aldric and Hecate (for those who don’t remember, that’s her dead daughter, who has been trying to kill her for a while), she runs down the ship’s corridors with Otto in pursuit. He catches up to her, but does not attack. Instead, he explains that he is not Otto, but is simply borrowing Otto’s body to be able to observe the crew and see if they can help his people.

It is soon revealed that Otto has been taken over by a Githzerai psychic, whose myriad companions have also taken over the systems of the Fiona’s and Bobs and who now proceed to hold the players hostage... well, sort of. In a mutually beneficial way.

Essentially, it turns out the players have invaded, by accident (or at least they think it’s by accident), a sector of space that is being fought over by the Githyanki and the Githzerai. The Githyanki have had the upper hand for many years and have captured an ancient Stardock carved out of an asteroid deep in the asteroid field and have essentially barred all ways in. The Githzerai “bored” a new way through the space between space, but their path was discovered recently and retaken by the Githyanki. In this same battle, the leader of the Githzerai lost his son, Ezria, to the Githyanki and Ezria is now being held captive on Stardock. The Githzerai cannot go after him because the Githyanki are scanning for ‘zerai brain patterns and would detect them immediately.

What the ‘zerai want the players to do, therefore, is to send a team of three humanoids into this space-between-space, and from there have them enter and infiltrate Stardock, rescue Ezria, and return. If they succeed in saving their kin, the ‘zerai will help them by using their prodigious powers to recharge their crystal with enough energy to get them to Faerun. This long space journey is nearing its end!

The players agree to this (their only other option, honestly, is to float out here until they become space dust). They are the perfect candidates, besides: a warforged, a yuan-ti, and a half elf with the brain signature of a Surveyor are unusual enough that they will definitely slip under the Githyanki radar.

And so the Githzerai open a portal to the space between worlds and the players teleport through... though not before Immerstal takes Carrick aside and warns him that Imoaza now carries the Rod of Storms and that could be a very dangerous thing for the universe, if she fails to control its power. Or chooses to abuse it.

And one last thing...

Alyss sat crosslegged on the floor of the ventilation chamber, the altar to Asmodeus before her. Her hands were clenched tightly, her nails drawing blood from her palms as she concentrated. With a gasp, she made the connection and opened her eyes as in front of her a portal appeared.

“Took long enough.” The taunting voice of Puck broke her concentration and she turned to him with a snarl.

“It wasn’t easy to tap into the Gith’s power. And it won’t stay open for long.”

The little impish devil hovered in the air lazily, raising a red bushy eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you are ready for this? The abyss is not a place for those who are not fully sure of who they are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What did you tell Carrick about your past? Did you tell him the truth?”

“What I told him doesn’t matter. I know who I am. But more importantly, I know my purpose.” She grunted and rose to her feet. “Coming?”