#either way Moss will end up happy!!

[ghoul--doodle]

thought that said spore asks so obviously i have to send one in. moss is making me insane because imperfect clones haunted by who they'll never be rip me in half <3 <3 are they ever gonna go back to their family despite their irreversible change in self or find comfort in a new one that doesn't care who they are or aren't or used to be or otherwise get some sort of personal closure and happy ending.... stares at you with my eyes so wetly....

I have made at least two of my friends emotionally attached to Moss so I’m legally required to give him a happy ending at this point

What that is yet tho-!! I do not know, Moss is undergoing the rewrites™

He was originally a one of the bigger villains/threats of Nebula Quest but I figured more recently I didn’t like that and it cluttered the story a bit so now he functions more as

Kinda an anti-hero I guess? If I had to describe him

Here is him with his family again in the meantime:

[specsthesecond]

Imagine being a nymph

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖡼.𖧧𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖧧.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖡼𖧧𖥧𖡼.𖥧𖧧.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

You exist somewhere in between being older than most living things but young in comparison to the ancient forest you reside in. You laze all day on lush moss and wander through thick meadows in the evening.

You spend most of your time with your fellow nymphs and the Satyrs, who also inhabit the forest. You join the satyrs in their festive orgies, their never ending debauchery and stamina is always entertaining. The satyrs are very close with the nymphs, both being able to keep up with the others insatiable apatites. They often invite you to praise their god in the only way they know how; sex, parties, wine and more sex. No matter what season, weather or time of day the forest is always filled with the pleasured sounds of your shared revelry.

You have your fun luring Human adventurers away from their parties, giving them little glances of your body behind thick trees. Humans also like it when you pretend to not notice them when they "accidentally stumble" across you sitting in your meadow. Either way when you have them to yourself it's always a fun arrangement. They always seem enraptured by you, all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and they come to you like they're locked in a trance. Always so hesitant at first like their dirty mortal hands shouldn't touch something as divine as your skin, you dispel those thoughts very quickly.

Sometimes the nomadic Centaurs travel through the forest, the nymphs and satyrs are always more than happy to welcome them into their home. The centaurs are proud creatures so you have to flirt a little harder than you do with humans or satyrs but traveling for months with no relief is so burdensome and why deny the cute nymph offering exactly the relief you need? When the huge man-beast eventually grumbles some admission of interest you waste no time bending over, hands on the lush forest floor, presenting your ass for the centaur to completely ruin on his massive horse cock.

The occasional traveling Orc camp will pop up now and then, that's always exciting. Orcs are very simple creatures and require little to no coaxing. You can usually just skip into the orc camp and plop yourself down on the nearest burly green hunk. They may be confused at first but a sultry look and a well placed hand will have them grinning from ear to ear, already half chubbed. It's a good idea to try and find the chief or clan leader as they might announce to the whole camp that they've found a useful fuck toy for the night. You might spend the day getting pounded by orc after orc until the late hours of the night. The only trace you'll leave behind for them when they wake is a trail of flowers and a few puddles of cum.

Goblins are similar to orcs but even more insatiable. Walking into a goblin camp in all your beautiful naked nymph glory will get you jumped and fucked within seconds. The small creatures don't care much at all for civility or decorum, they see a pretty thing like you walk into their camp and they're already scrambling and fighting each other for a hole. Not that they have any problems with sharing, during these particular nights there's always multiple goblin cocks being stuffed into all your holes, fitting in as many as they possibly can. They fuck till they drop, literally thrusting into your cum soaked holes till they pass out on the grassy floor.

Elves however, are another story. Elves never lose their composure, always so regal. When they travel through the forest they let the nymphs trail along with them, if only because this is your home they're walking through. You've only fucked elves very few times. The first being a noblewoman who weaved flowers in your soft hair while stealing glances at your naked body. You pleasured her in her tent one night, lapping at her pretty pussy as she gave you quiet but generous praises while gently stroking your hair. There was also the respected guard captain who you caught pleasuring himself by the river, he seemed very grateful for your assistance, fucking you ragged like he hadn't touched another person in centuries.

If you're lucky you may stumble upon the Minotaur that lives in the forest. You and the other nymphs like to play this game where you tease and taunt the Minotaur until he chases one of you down and fucks you into the dirt. It's not clear if getting caught means you win or lose but the other nymphs will sit around you, pet the minatour and coo at you as you get ferociously fucked by the beast until it fills your belly with it's seed. You're almost unconscious when the minatour is done but that won't stop the other nymphs from licking up the monsters cum from your abused hole while trying to coax the Minotaur into another round.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖡼.𖧧𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖧧.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖡼𖧧𖥧𖡼.𖥧𖧧.

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Dogday!! Trying to figure out a way to send a Y/N in there to help him.

Rambles under the cut.

(I drew my sona in these cuz self-indulgent, but if I ever write anything it'll be a reader insert with little to no canon design.)

Design notes: Took some elements from his game model as well as his cartoon design. I think when we see him, he is emaciated and/or stretched out, the way CatNap is said to be able to stretch. Don't know if that's an ability all Smiling Critters have though. For now I'm saying it is SOMEWHAT but CatNap is the better at it by MILES. In any case, that's why he's not quite as lanky as he is in game, and is also a bit shorter.

I also he can be bipedal or quadrupedal, much like CatNap seems to be able to switch back and forth. A bit more animalistic than his cartoon counterpart, but part of that is just him not wanting to tower over the children and employees all the time, so drops down to all fours quite a bit.

The fur texture on his ears in the game cave him a floofy cocker spaniel look so I went with that instead of the less floofy ears he has in the cartoon and his original plushie.

The white pupils being absent when we see him I believe is a sign of how weak he is. When healthy, all the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters have them, much like CatNap does.

Trying to actually keep his huge open-mouth smile at all times, unlike with my FNAF stuff where I give them more of an ability to emote. That said trying to get him to look angry or sad was a challenge. Sad I think worked okay but the one where I meant him to look angry he looks more cocky or smirky than mad. Tender moments are a bit harder too, as keeping that huge grin with more tender eyes results in him looking either drunk or horney or just like he's not taking the moment very seriously, haha.

And the story? Not sure yet, bouncing around a few ideas, though I don't think I'll have the reader and the player be the same person. Reader might be someone who came up in PlayCare alongside Dogday. Perhaps they knew each other as kids when Dogday was still human. Haven't decided how much of this Dogday remembers or at what point the reader realizes Dogday is their old friend who got "adopted".

Reader grows up the Playcare and is given a job once they're an adult. (Something something starting the brainwashing and normalization of bullshit early to make employees who are more willing to look the other way?)

Dogday somehow kept them hidden during the Hour of Joy and the reader's been living in the caves ever since. (The caves open up so much possibility for people being hidden in the factory. Much easier to say there's an unknown offshoot of a natural cave system than an unknown part of the factory.)

How are they staying fed? Uhhhh...cave mushrooms? Trips to the surface? Moss? Stale vending machine candy? I don't know yet.

Not sure how to pull a happy ending out of this horror but I'm trying. Maybe the reader convinces Dogday to leave after Ch 3 because he'd be too weak to help anyway or something? And uh...I'm just gonna pretend since he's kinda a plushie he can be sewn back together even though I'm PRETTY SURE canonically the inclusion of blood and guts makes that...not a thing.

Just remember guys...all winds blow away...eventually.

[daistea]

Might I… request a fic about Kabru and Mithrun (respectively) encountering a succubus that appeals to them by taking on the form of the reader. While the reader is standing Right There

oh my goodness this was so fun for me. However, it was only after I finished writing it that I realized what 'respectively' implied. So this did not happen respectively, I'm sorry. I think it's funnier this way, though, if that's any solace.

If you still want this prompt done for them both separately, then let me know and I'll be happy to do that!

Mithrun x Reader x Kabru (not a love triangle, no established relationship)

2000 words!

no tw except for a very mild implication

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first sign of danger was the cloying, saccharine smell that consumed every inch of the room. It was as if the air had been replaced with pure perfume created to appeal to a specific victim. 

Kabru’s eyes fluttered as he recognized the scent of Utaya’s fields, especially the moments when the breeze would roll across the wheat and envelop him in a warm hug. Then, there was the hint of Milsiril’s kitchen, which wasn’t a scent he would usually describe as appealing. Yet, it sunk into his skin and made his heart clench.

To Mithrun, the petrichor was faint, but recognizable. It was just a hint in the back of his mind, bringing up a split second memory of the rainy, rolling green hills of the Northern Central Continent. Since the demon, though, he’d never been particularly sentimental of his home. As if the source of the scent read his mind and realized that, the perfume in the air gently switched to something savory, like elf cake. He didn’t care about that either. Again, the scent switched to wildflowers. He didn’t care about that either. And once more—

Succubi were so annoying, so invasive. Mithrun sighed and nudged Kabru with his elbow, “There’s monsters nearby.”

Kabru caught on almost immediately, “Succubi?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at you, of all people. His expressions weren’t as well-guarded when with you and Mithrun, and the Captain recognized the concern that flickered over his face. Mithrun’s hand twitched with the urge to grab Kabru by the hair and redirect his stare elsewhere, perhaps onto the life-sucking mosquito monsters that were slowly approaching from the shadows. 

The dungeon was a collapsed ruin, but still traversable to those determined enough. You had insisted on coming with Mithrun on one of his regular explorations of the ruins. Once Kabru had discovered that you were going with Mithrun, he insisted upon coming along as well despite his obvious distaste for the place. There was some deeper reasoning behind his decision, Mithrun knew. Whether or not you knew that, though, remained to be seen. 

There was rubble in the corners and moss growing between the cracks in the stones. One wrong step and the ceiling could easily fall. It was wise to have more than one person when encountering a succubi, yet all the times Mithrun had encountered them in the past had ended up in his favor. The succubi didn’t quite know what to do with him. He cast you and Kabru a wary glance, though— you two were far more susceptible. 

“Just stay close,” Kabru said as he took a careful step forward. He reached out a hand behind him, grabbing for your wrist. You let him take your arm, and Mithrun felt his shoulders tense. 

“The wisest thing to do would be to cover your eyes,” Mithrun mused. As he spoke, he took your other hand. In response to that, Kabru released your wrist and also held your hand. For a moment, you felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but perhaps one of the most confusing. 

Mithrun and Kabru led you through the ruined room. The shadows were thick and alive with the scuffling of feet, the brushing of wings against the wall. Kabru did his best to hide his concern, but his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever he was feeling. A quick glance at Mithrun confirmed that the Captain was not at all bothered by the cloying scent of succubi, their calling card and greeting. They could strike at any moment, yet he remained calm. 

“It will be fine,” Mithrun’s voice cut through the tension, “just close your eyes.”

Kabru sent him a look over his shoulder, “‘It’ll be fine’ is easy for you to say, Captain.”

“It is, the succubi have never really known what to make of me.”

You imagined a life-sucking, giant mosquito monster just staring at Mithrun as it tried to process what it was seeing. Yet, just the other day, Mithrun had expressed a small desire for a specific dish. 

You snorted, “Your desires are coming back, though. You never know, it may take the form of an unseasoned elf casserole.”

Kabru put up a gloved hand to stifle his laugh, “Yeah, with boiled chicken and white rice without an ounce of salt.”

You could practically feel the heat of Mithrun’s stare on the back of your neck. “Elven cuisine is an acquired taste.”

“As in… once you actually acquire taste, you’ll move onto much better food?” You asked. 

You would’ve liked to share a high-five with Kabru over that one, but the familiar buzz of a mosquito interrupted the laughter. The three of you froze as a flicker of mana filled the air. Mithrun didn’t seem worried, this succubi obviously wasn’t for him, but—

Kabru put out an arm in front of you as if to shield you from… yourself. 

An exact copy of you stepped out of the shadows. Its eyes were wide with a look that could only be described as desperate desire. Its cheeks were flushed and brows furrowed, every ounce of attention focused precisely on Kabru. 

Both you and Mithrun looked at him. 

Kabru cleared his throat and looked away. The red on the tips of his ears was undeniable. 

How were you supposed to feel about that? Flattered? There was some flattery in it, though it was mixed with mild horror at the absolutely breathless and desperate version of yourself that he apparently desired. Was that what you looked like? You were sure you never made a face like that. (You did, last week when Melini had a heatwave and Kabru had fetched you a glass of water. The memory haunted him.)

To your right, Mithrun raised a shaking hand. His shoulders trembled a little and he closed his eyes. His brows furrowed as he exhaled shakily. He looked as if he was only held together by a thin piece of string and a wad of chewing gum. The sight made your heart skip a beat in panic until you noticed the slight twitch of his lips. 

He was trying not to laugh. 

You choked on air. Kabru also choked on air, but for a very different reason. The succubus copy of you slowly sauntered toward him– you do not saunter like that, you would never saunter in such a manner, with that hungry look in your eyes and your lips parted ever so slightly. Horrifying. But like all good horrifying things, it also made you want to kneel over and start laughing until your stomach hurt. 

“Kabru,” you gasped, barely holding yourself together, “You—”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he took several steps back, “Don’t overthink it! It’s nothing! It’s–”

Mithrun interrupted with a heavy, resigned sigh. He took a casual step forward and touched the succubus version of you on the shoulder. Its eyes widened and it tensed, but before it could react, it was gone. You were pretty sure he teleported it into a nearby wall, judging by the muffled, strangled hisses coming from nearby. 

Kabru was still red, “I can explain.”

“I don’t think that requires an explanation,” Mithrun said flatly. 

“You know what?” He glared, “Not everybody can be as unaffected as y—”

Another buzz, another footstep on the stone floor. The three of you froze once more as another succubus stepped out of the shadows. 

It was also you. 

Fortunately, this version of you was much less desperate. Yet there was something about it that reminded you of a painting in a cathedral. Perhaps it was the look in its familiar eyes, the sheer love and affection it held as it stared at Mithrun as if he was the only person who ever existed. 

“That’s not mine,” Kabru said.

And it obviously wasn’t yours. Both you and Kabru looked at Mithrun. 

The Captain was tense, his body taut like the string of a bow. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared at the succubus. His good eye was wide and he kept blinking as if that might help clarify the existence of a version of you that looked at him so adoringly. 

He schooled his expression and casually pointed at the love-struck succubus, “That’s not mine.”

“Of course it’s yours!” Kabru snapped, “Who else’s could it be?!”

Mithrun only shrugged. The soft tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his feelings. 

Once again, you were at a loss of what to think. It was sweet. Your heart fluttered and emotion filled your throat. Yet, did he truly desire for you to look at him like that? Did he lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like to have every ounce of your attention on him, to value him so dearly that you were incapable of seeing anyone else? The very idea knocked the breath from your lungs. 

Except, Kabru ran a sword through the adoring, angelic version of you, and the mosquito monster screeched in a very not-you way. Mithrun only grimaced and chose to stare at the wall instead.

“Okay, so hopefully that’s the last of them,” you said. Your cheeks felt very warm. Kabru and Mithrun both desired you, though in different ways. You didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing more you wanted to do at that moment than run and hide and mull over possible explanations for what you’d just seen.

“Wait,” Mithrun stretched out an arm in front of you, “there’s one more.”

Despite his serious tone, awkwardness permeated the air. You were practically choking on it, unable to breathe normally because all your body could process was sheer embarrassment. Kabru’s ears were red. Mithrun looked more dead inside than usual. None of you would meet each other’s eyes. 

The last succubus stepped out of the shadow. First, you saw a brown boot, then a familiar hand, then a familiar face. 

You gasped, holding your chest as if afraid that your heart might burst through your skin. “I-It’s you…”

Mithrun and Kabru both looked at you. “It’s…” Mithrun couldn’t finish his sentence. 

But Kabru could, “Your biggest desire is… The meat pie vendor who sets up shop on the corner on Thursdays?!”

He said it as if that was a bad thing. 

The meat pie vendor smiled seductively and held out a fresh, steaming hot meat pie. You took a step forward, your hand trembling as you reached for the treat. 

“You don’t even want him romantically!” Kabru yelled, “You just want him to give you food!”

Once again, he said it as if that was a bad thing. 

Before your hand could brush along the flaky, warm exterior of the meat pie, Kabru pulled out his sword. Mithrun grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. It happened too quickly. There was no time to defend your desire. You gasped as the sword ran through the beloved meat pie vendor’s stomach, and as the wood was teleported through his neck. With an inhuman screech, the succubus collapsed to the floor. 

Your friends, who wanted you, had just killed the one thing you wanted… Your heart was torn in two. 

It was a complete mystery why both Mithrun and Kabru stormed out of the dungeon without saying one word to you. You were the one that should’ve been mad. 

Still, as you took Kabru’s hand in your left and Mithrun’s in your right, they both gave your fingers a light squeeze. 

Still, “We��re never doing this again,” Kabru said. 

Mithrun nodded. You grimaced. And none of you ever spoke of it again. 

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 5

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5355 (Sorry! 🙈)

Warnings: 18+ only!!! arranged marriage, some tension, angst, perilous situation, smut

A/N: This is a long one, guys. But I didn't want to split it up again. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Running down the stairs Y/N saw Millie standing at the bottom who called after her, but she could not stop. She told her that she needed a minute and kept running out of the castle. She did not care about the looks from the others as she ran towards the staples. But she did not stop there.

Benny called after her, Sam too who stood next to him, but Y/N gave them no reaction. After she left the stable behind her, she just kept running. Up the next hill as far as her feet would take her and until the castle was no longer visible. Y/N first stopped again at a small group of trees where she could hide inside. She needed time to think and just wanted to be alone. At least for a little while.

Here, her tears could fall freely and her heart could break. Another crack breaking the smooth red surface. She just didn't know what to do anymore. Dean wasn't on her side. No, he preferred another woman. And of course she understood his anger, but it had been over two months now. He should slowly get used to it or at least try to understand her side. It wasn't easy for Y/N either.

The fact that she loved Dean didn't make it any easier. His distance and that cold shoulder hit her hard. It could be so easy, if only he saw her as more than the woman who had robbed him of his happiness. He didn't mention Helena anymore, but sometimes she had the feeling that he looked at her and saw her sister's face.

Maybe she should just walk away, pack her things and disappear. Unfortunately it wasn't that easy. She had no money of her own and there was no question of her taking Dean's money. And she couldn't and didn't want to go back to her father. She missed her clan and the life she was used to for so long, but she actually wanted to start over here with Dean. She loved him and that was the problem. Deep down, she just couldn't leave him. She was hopelessly lost.

A cool wind rushed through the branches and leaves, swirling the fabric of her dress. If only she had grabbed a coat. She found a moss-covered spot near the roots of a large tree, where she sat down and leaned her back against the trunk. She wasn't ready to go back yet.

Dean had just stared after Y/N before the anger caused him to sweep his desk empty with his arm and knock any objects onto the floor. He took a few deep breaths before took to his heels and ran after her. At the bottom of the stairs, Millie was standing exactly as he had left her before.

"Where is she?" he asked and Millie pointed a finger to the door.

"She went out."

So Dean made his way towards the entrance of his castle, but Millie hold him back.

"Dean, wait!" she lightly grabbed his arm to stop him. "Don't go after her. At least not right now."

"What?" his brows furrowed. "But I need to talk to her."

"I know her, Dean, believe me. She was so upset... give her some time to calm down. No matter what you said to her now, she would take it the wrong way."

"I... I don't like that. I should talk to her right now. There was a misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up."

And by that he meant the last sentence that slipped out of his mouth. He shouldn't have said that and he had to clarify that. But he also had to clarify other things. Y/N's words had made him think and he had realized that his behavior towards her simply wasn't fair. However, he had been staying away from her for different reasons than she probably assumed.

"What happened up there?" MIllie asked.

Just as Dean was about to tell him about the package, the door opened and Benny and Sam walked in. So the two men were also brought up to date and then Dean expressed Y/N's suspicion that it was Cassie. Sam and Benny exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed by Dean and Millie looked down so as not to reveal that she knew about this assumption.

"What? You already knew about it?" he asked incredulously.

"Dean..." Sam started. "Cassie always wanted to marry you."

"So what? That's her motive? She knew that I was going to marry someone else."

"Yeah, but she was not happy when she heared that Y/N is not the right woman." Benny said.

"I mean... you only need to look how she behaves infront of you." Sam pointed out.

"And how she behaves towards Y/N. She makes it pretty clear that she is not happy that Y/N is here."

Well, that were news to Dean. But on the other hand, he had been gone for a while. He had never noticed that Cassie avoided Y/N like that. No matter who he saw Y/N with, they all seemed to like her now and she seemed to get along with everyone. She fit the bill really well.

"Okay. This is not happening. Not under my watch." Dean said and made his way back up the stairs. "Call everyone into the dining hall!" He had to do something.

Fifteen minutes later all the clan members were gathered around the large table, at the head of which Dean stood, the package in his hand. A murmur went through the crowd as no one could really explain what the problem was. Dean looked around and saw Jo and Alex standing with Cassie. Benny was standing near the door and Sam was across the room from him. Millie had fought her way to Jo without Cassie or Alex noticing her.

"When I came back from my business trip today, I actually had the impression that everything was fine. But then Y/N found this in our bedroom." and with a thud he dropped the package onto the table after removing the lid.

The severed cat's head almost fell out of the box, causing shocked exclamations among those present.

"This is a threat that should go to Y/N. But this threat also goes to me and I cannot and will not accept that. Y/N is now my wife and I had the impression that you all received her well But apparently I was wrong."

An incomprehensible murmur now went through the crowd, accompanied by the underlying question of who could do such a thing. Dean observed the reactions of the different people, but couldn't notice anything unusual, not even with Cassie.

"So that's how it's going to go here now." Dean raised his voice a little so that everyone would really listen to him. "Whoever did it has the opportunity to own up to it and admit it now. However, if that person doesn't speak up and I find out who it was...then God have mercy on him."

It was slowly getting dark and the temperature had dropped noticeably, but Y/N still couldn't go back. She had seen Sam and Dean riding horses across the countryside, calling out to her. She could also hear Benny, who was probably looking for her somewhere near the stables. Still, she couldn't reveal herself.

If Dean confronted her now, she would probably pour her heart out to him. She had noticed one thing in the last few hours. Her nerves were pretty thin and she wouldn't be able to handle any further rejection of her confession. She still hadn't completely calmed down. So she would now wait until the men gave up their search for the day and then sneak into Arrow's stable.

It took a few hours until Y/N felt safe enough to head back. By now it was pitch black and the cold was now creeping into her bones. Even though she was probably no longer visible, she walked slowly and deliberately. Always keeping an eye on the castle and its surroundings while she ducked again and again.

A lantern was burning in the stable and the candle wouldn't last much longer. However, it still provided enough light for Y/N to find the right box. As soon as Arrow recognized her, he whinnied happily and raised and lowered his head. She immediately tried to calm him down so that he wouldn't give her position away. However, that took a few moments.

"Oh Arrow. What am I supposed to do?"

The horse pushed Y/N's head closer to him as soon as the young woman stood in the box with him. As if he understood her words and recognized that she was struggling inside. She hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of safety and familiarity in that moment.

"That came from the stable! I think it was Arrow!"

Suddenly she heard Benny's voice, which seemed to come from the castle. But he wasn't alone.

"I'll take a look!" Alex called back, seemingly closer.

Oh no, she didn't want to be discovered yet. But after looking around and not really finding a place to hide, Y/N went to the end of the box, sat on the floor and piled the hay up above her. She tried to hide under it as best she could and just hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

Then she heard footsteps coming towards her. She could still see a little through the pile of hay above her head and at some point she saw Alex's legs and how he was walking through the stable. He stopped briefly at Arrow, spoke a few words to him and then went out again.

"She is not here. Everything looks normal." Alex stated as he seemed to walk back to the castle.

Relief flooded through Y/N ​​and she was able to release the breath she had previously been holding. Quietly and carefully, she dug herself out of the hay again. The candle in the lantern barely gave off any light now. Arrow came over and sat down next to her, resting his head on her lap. Y/N also leaned into him a little.

"Just a little longer." She whispered while petting Arrow. "I'll just stay with you a little longer and then I'll go back."

Dean paced around the bedroom. It was already the middle of the night and Y/N still hadn't returned. A bad feeling slowly began to spread within him. After all, it was his fault that it had gotten this far. He had scared her away and made her feel like running away was the only solution. His absence and the silence with which he had punished her had been too much.

And yes, he now knew that he had unconsciously punished Y/N with his behavior. He hadn't married the woman he wanted and in a way Y/N was to blame. But that wasn't really why he had acted like that. Because now he also knew that there was an even more confusing reason for him. He stopped in front of the window and looked out into the cold, dark night.

Back then he had already imagined everything in his head. What the wedding with Helena would be like, their life afterwards here in his castle. What the next five years could have been like. The first child, then the second. For a long time these had just been fantasies for him, but after he got to know Helena, he could easily imagine that the fantasies could be true. He had really had feelings for the young woman.

But then the wedding night was over and in the next morning came disillusionment. He hadn't married Helena, but Y/N. That really threw him off track. And yet there were parallels between him and his wife. That's why he took her with him. And actually he had planned to just see how it goes. It was just the way it was now.

But the journey back to the castle alone had been a challenge. As soon as Y/N sat in front of him, his penis began to stir again. Her soft, round ass against his hips, the scent that wafted from her hair into his nose, had inevitably brought back the images of their night together.

And from then on, every night had been difficult for him. Every minute he had been alone with Y/N ​​he had had to pull himself together. So often his fingers had itched to hold her in his arms or even kiss her. But he wasn't sure if she would have wanted that. After all, she had married him out of necessity and not because she wanted to.

So he went on business trips. But the distance didn't make things any better. When he lay in bed at night and let his thoughts wander, he always saw Y/N in front of him. He thought of her, of the things she had told him and of their night together. She had really caught him off guard and made him long for her. How crazy was all that?

He couldn't stay in the room any longer. With his coat in hand, he made his way back downstairs. The castle lay still and quiet, peaceful, as if nothing had happened. He opened the door and stood on the stairs, his gaze turned back to the dark landscape. His wife was out there somewhere and he was just hoping she would come back so he could talk to her and explain himself. So he could finally do it right.

"Dean?"

Slightly startled, Dean turned to the voice and recognized Ellen, who was standing in front of the kitchen with a candle in her hand and looking at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked and came over to him.

"Y/N is still out there somewhere. She still hasn't come back." his gaze turned back.

"But she will come back eventually. She probably just needed time. After what you told me, Dean... you really made a mistake."

"I know!" he exclaimed angry at himself. "But I'm hoping it's not to late now."

Ellen didn't say anything else, but her heart ached a little for Dean. She was also worried about Y/N and hoped that she would show up again soon. She placed a warm hand on Dean's shoulder, showing him her silent support. After a few minutes, however, she broke the silence again.

"Has anyone come forward about the allegations yet?"

"No. And it looks like noone will either."

"She was really on edge last week. Whoever followed her had made her feel really uneasy."

"You also knew about it?" Dean asked surprised.

"Yes. She told me about it."

"Did she also tell you that she that she suspected Cassie?"

"No. But that does not surprise me." Dean looked at Ellen questioningly and she smiled a little. "Have you ever seen how she looks at you? She's jealous. And she's ignoring Y/N since the moment she came here. It would make sense."

With that Ellen was right, but he could hear a 'but' in her sentence. So he asked he to explain.

"when you called the meeting this afternoon and showed us what it was about, Jo overheard Cassie talking to Alex."

"And?" Dean now was eager to know.

"She wasn't as shocked as everyone else about the contents of the box, but she was probably still surprised. And then she said to Alex that she thought the act was good and that it was a shame that she hadn't thought of it herself."

"So she indirectly admitted that it wasn't her... And Jo believes her?"

"Yes. And I believe that too, by the way." now Dean looked surprised and Ellen explained her statement. "She once helped me in the kitchen and was supposed to pluck a chicken. She almost vomited. And the animal was already dead."

"So she couldn't have killed the cat." Dean mused.

"No. Not her. Unless she had an accomplice. But I believe Jo that it wasn't Cassie. My daughter has known her longer than I have."

That made sense in Dean's eyes. "But who was it then?"

"That's exactly the question, Dean. Who did it?"

Early the next morning Benny made his way to the stable. He hadn't been able to find any real peace either. So he wanted to check on Arrow. The sky slowly became brighter, making last night's frost glitter like stars. It had been the coldest night yet. He lit the lanterns and then ran the boxes. Everything seemed quiet, but when he glanced into Arrow's box, he had to do a double take.

There, right next to Arrow in the hay, lay Y/N and she was pretty pale. Benny walked straight towards her, which startled the horse, but it remained calm on the ground. Upon closer inspection, Benny saw that Y/N had sweat on her forehead and her lips were blue.

He didn't have to think about it for long. Benny lifted her out of the hay into his arms and made his way to the castle. She urgently needed to get somewhere warm and Dean needed to know about it too. He hadn't left the stable when Alex stood in front of him, looking quite frightened.

"Go call Dean. Tell him I found Y/N and that she needs help." Benny ordered, but Alex didn't seem to be able to move. "GO!"

Suddenly the young man came back to life and turned around to run back into the castle. Benny also hurried to get there while speaking quietly to the woman in his arms. He noticed how she was shaking and the cold radiating from her body worried him deeply.

He was just walking in the door when Dean appeared in front of him and took Y/N into his arms. But the two were not alone. Apparently Alex had woken up half the castle.

"Benny, ride off and bring the doctor here immediately! Don't take any detours and if he refuses, then tell him that money doesn't matter!" Dean called over his shoulder as he hurried up the stairs with Y/N.

Millie followed Dean straight up the stairs and opened the bedroom door for him when they reached the top. After they entered, Millie pulled back the covers so Dean could lay Y/N there and tuck her right back in.

"Millie, can you please get a few more blankets from the guest rooms? I'll light the fire in the meantime so that it gets warm in here."

"Of course." Milllie said and set off straight away.

After Millie disappeared from the room, Dean looked down at Y/N. Her face was so pale that her blue lips formed a shocking contrast. God, this was all his fault. Just because he once again spoke first before he could think about his words. So he did something useful and started the fire in the fireplace.

Still, it took over an hour for Benny to get back. Only he didn't have the doctor with him, but someone else. A thin man with dark skin sat on another horse. Not as dark as Cassie's skin, but different nonetheless. He wore a turban on his head.

“Doctor MacGregor wasn’t home. He was called to an emergency in Dundreggan last night. But his guest from India is also a doctor." Benny pointed to the man next to him and introduced him. "This is Mr. Gupta. He's an... ajurwedish doctor. Correct?"

"Yes." the man said with an strong accent. "And I'm here to help. If you're willing to let me."

For a moment Dean was skeptical, but then he remembered that every second counted. And so he gave the man his hand and explained the situation to him as they made their way up to Y/N. He saw the concerned and puzzled looks from some of the others they passed, but he ignored them.

Mr. Gupta examined Y/N thoroughly, explaining every step and his findings to Dean. They had already done the right thing by wrapping her up warm and heating the room well, but that wouldn't be enough.

"She is hypothermic. Her body temperature is already in the critical range. Under no circumstances should the room lose heat. At some point she will try to free herself from the blankets, but that must not happen either."

Meanwhile, Millie was back in the room and she and Dean took in all the information and agreed on care for Y/N in the next few days.

"In addition, I will prepare a decoction and a warming paste for her. If used regularly, her condition should improve in the next week. But it will take time."

But Dean didn't care. The main thing is that Y/N would feel better soon. He wouldn't lose her like this. That was out of the question.

Y/N felt weird. She felt hot and cold at the same time, her head was pounding and she was shaking. She noticed noises but couldn't identify them. In general, she didn't know whether she was dreaming or awake.

Whenever she tried to free herself from the sea of ​​blankets under which she felt buried and was sweating from the heat, Dean's face appeared above her, encouraging her to stay under the blankets.

Other times, when the cold made her shiver and she felt the blankets being pulled away, she tried to bury herself under them again. But even then Dean's face appeared, reassuring her that it wouldn't take long as he caressed her. But when he stopped, these parts of his body became really warm and drove away the cold.

And sometimes she had a terrible spicy taste in her mouth that made her thirsty. Then Millie was with her to help her drink. Or were those just dreams too? She simply couldn't tell the difference and so she always hoped that her consciousness would just slip back into the silent nothingness where she could no longer feel anything.

The next time Y/N woke up she felt different. More awake with a clearer mind. She was still cold, but she finally felt like herself again. And she realized that this wasn't a dream. She was really awake. With tired limbs, she moved slowly and moaned slightly.

"Y/N? Y/N!" She heard Dean's excited voice and searched for him with her eyes once she got used to the brightness.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" suddenly he was at her side, holding her hand.

"No, I... I'm fine. I'm just... a little tired and I'm still a little cold." She said quietly, wondering what even happened.

But it didn't take long for the memories to catch up with her again. She didn't go back the night after she escaped. She had fallen asleep at Arrow's side and had lain in the freezing stable all night. It had been her own fault.

She saw Dean take a deep breath and close his eyes briefly before speaking again. "Stay there. I'll call Millie and the doctor." and then he disappeared through the door.

Half an hour later, Dean made his way outside and walked over to Sam, who was chopping firewood. With a firm step he ran towards his brother, who looked at him worriedly after noticing him. Sam put down the axe.

"Dean? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Yes, everything is fine." answered the older man, took the ax in his hand and began to boldly chop wood.

"Are you sure? Is something wrong with Y/N?" Sam probed.

"No." he swung the axe. "She woke up and was lucid again." again the ax thundered downwards. "She's doing much better than she has in the last few days." with the third blow the log was split.

But then Sam realized what was really going on with his brother. He had seen how the guilt had eaten away at Dean over the last few days. He had made huge accusations against himself, even if he hadn't admitted it. So Sam left him alone with the firewood, knowing that Dean would have to use it to release his pent-up emotions. But still the hope spread within him that this was finally the turning point.

An hour later, most of the firewood had been cut down and Dean was sweaty and exhausted. But he felt better. Now it was time to start all over again.

He made his way back into the castle when Mr. Gupta came out. Dean thanked him for his help and said goodbye to him with kind words. The doctor had made another decoction and prescribed Y/N two more days of bed rest in addition to a hot bath, but he was sure that she would recover completely. She just had to take it slowly and Dean would make sure of that.

When Dean came into the bedroom, it wasn't as warm as before and Y/N was still sitting in the hot tub. She was slightly startled when she saw Dean come in, but didn't say anything. That hit Dean a little, but he could also understand her behavior. After all, he was guilty of it himself and it was entirely up to him to change that.

He undressed and walked towards the tub. Y/N scooted forward to make room for him and once he was in the tub, she wanted to get out. But Dean stopped her and made her sit back down. He picked up the bar of soap that was lying on a small stool next to the tub and immediately recognized the scent. That's why Y/N always smelled so seductive.

By now the bar of soap was pretty thin and he made a mental note that he needed to bring her some again. After Dean had cleaned himself up, he leaned back in the tub and gently pulled Y/N along by the shoulders. She reacted a little stiffly at first, but quickly relaxed again and secretly enjoyed the feeling of finally being able to be so close to Dean again.

When the water slowly got cold, they got out of the tub again. Dean first so he could grab a towel for Y/N. He held it out to her openly after Y/N also had both feet on dry land and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly they were so close. Body to body, face to face that Dean cleared his throat and had to take a few steps back so he didn't do anything rash.

"Dry yourself off and then go back to bed. I'll get you some real food." Dean said as he quickly got dressed and then disappeared from the room.

Later that evening, when Y/N was slowly making her way to dreamland again, Dean sat by the fire and looked over at the bed. Y/N lay there with her eyes closed, cheeks rosy, hair down and a relaxed expression on her face. And for the first time in days, Dean was able to breathe deeply.

After he had brought his wife and himself something to eat upstairs and they were sitting together, he remembered a situation that had happened in his childhood. On one of their trips when he and Sam were younger, his brother once fell into a frozen lake. Her father noticed immediately and didn't hesitate for a second to pull him out and Sam was quickly fine again.

Nevertheless, he had told Y/N about it and she seemed to just absorb his words. So he didn't stop talking. He told her about many things and she literally hung on his every word. Why hadn't he done this before? It was so easy to confide in her and even though he didn't like talking about himself in general, he felt comfortable with Y/N in doing so.

The tiredness slowly overcame him and so it didn't take long until Dean settled down in bed. Moving close to Y/N, he quickly fell asleep too.

But just a few hours later, Dean woke up with a start. He didn't know why, but his hand immediately searched the side of the bed next to him, expecting to feel Y/N. But her side was empty and already cold.

“Y/N?” he exclaimed, sitting up at the same time.

"I am here. I couldn't stay lying down anymore." She replied quietly with a smile and his eyes found her directly.

She was sitting by the fire, her hair falling over her shoulders and she had a book in her hand. But Dean couldn't take his eyes off of her. The orange glow of the flames painted her face and made her appear almost angelic. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he sank back onto the bed.

'God, she is so beautiful. Why didn't I notice this before?' he thought to himself.

After a moment he straightened up slightly and looked over at Y/N again.

“Will you please come back to bed?”

Y/N looked at him a little surprised, but then nodded. "Okay."

She put her book aside and came back to the bed. Dean had already lifted the blankets, implicitly inviting her to slide closer to him. Y/N was very happy to accept this offer. Once she was at his side, her head on his chest, he covered them both again.

"You really scared me." Dean said shortly afterwards into the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Y/N replied quietly.

Dean looked down at Y/N. "Please don't just run away again. Not until I can talk to you."

Upon those words Y/N looked up at Dean. "I won't. I promise." and she meant it, because she wouldn't be able to go through this again.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes and suddenly it was as if time stood still. Dean couldn't hold back anymore. With a hand on her cheek, he leaned down to Y/N until his lips were on hers. He kissed her carefully at first, but Y/N didn't seem to mind the kiss. And as soon as Dean felt her tongue on his lower lip, he was done for.

He deepened the kiss and turned a little more towards Y/N, who was able to put her leg on his hip. His hand moved up her thigh until it came to rest on her ass.

She buried her hands in his hair and began to slowly rub herself against him. She moaned slightly into his mouth while his hand, which was on her butt, went back to wandering. The nightdress that Y/N was wearing had slipped onto her own hips. With his thigh he opened her legs a little more so that his already stiff cock could nestle against her warm center.

Dean could already feel how wet she was and he had to hold himself together not to just push into her. But when Y/N's hand landed on his ass shortly afterwards and she pushed him closer to her, he literally slid into her. So he turned her so that she was lying on her back and sank his last few inches into her.

They both groaned and Dean wasted no time. He moved slowly but forcefully inside her. He carried out each of his thrusts with passion as he uncovered Y/N's breasts and caressed them there with his mouth. He licked her nipples and bit them tenderly, making her moans grow louder.

At some point he picked up the pace a little and licked from her breasts over her collarbone to her neck. That bittersweet pressure built up inside Y/N again and she searched with her lips for Dean's, who was only too happy to kiss her back.

He felt Y/N start to throb around his cock and began to chase his own orgasm. Y/N moved with him, holding onto his shoulders and as she jumped over the edge, he followed her just seconds later. He poured himself deep and hard into her while Y/N enjoyed the aftershocks.

They both looked deeply into each other's eyes as their pulses slowly calmed down. But neither really wanted to let go of the other. So they lay there entangled in each other and fell asleep together again.

A/N: I told you that everything would get better again. Let's just hope it stays that way. 😶 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

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[stainedglassthreads]

I feel like the four leads of Deltarune--Kris, Susie, Ralsei, and Noelle-are just. Somehow two different levels of queer-coded.

(Edit: Just to be clear: not saying any of this to disparage or insult shippers of Kralsei, Suselle, or Kriselle, I've just seen a lot of cool analysis about tropes, romance, and lack of choice in Deltarune and wanted to chime in with some of my own thoughts. If you ship any of those ships in Deltarune--fantastic! May you find a lot of content precisely to your taste.)

Like. On the one hand, if you're looking at tropes, they are very neatly set up into two romantic partnerships. Noelle is very blatantly interested in Susie, and Ralsei's feelings for Kris are often portrayed similarly. On a surface level, both pairings appear very clear. Noelle is a girl in love with another girl, while Ralsei is a very effeminate boy in love with a teen who doesn't appear to use pronouns. And a big deal isn't made of either pairing, there's nothing really in the way of Suselle or Kralsei on a societal level we've encountered so far. At least in terms of gender and sexuality. But if you look a little closer, it's kind of...'these are a very straight idea of queer ships', y'know?

Noelle and Susie are both girls, but one is very effeminately coded, anxious, uses magic, and is more traditionally cute, while they other is crass, crude, intimidating, and physically strong. Ralsei and Kris are gender-noncomforming, but Ralsei is a sweet pacifistic healer who bakes cakes while Kris uses a sword, and keeps being mistaken for a boy by much of Youtube and Reddit. The active one and the passive one, the fighter and the mage, the one with cute hobbies and the one who eats moss, the one in pants and the one in a dress.

And here, I start thinking of some posts I've seen analyzing how, in Deltarune, romance is used to explore how Kris doesn't really get choices. Kris has been cast as the leader and knight, and Ralsei has been cast as the healer and Princess, even if he is a boy. The leader often ends up with the healer. The knight often gets the princess as a happy ending. But Kris doesn't seem to like this! Their reactions to Ralsei are constantly lukewarm at best, and that's not getting into how Ralsei seems to be in love with his idea of Kris, while being very. Asriel-coded, who the game describes often as Kris' brother, in sharp contrast to how ambiguous Chara and Frisk's relationships with the Dreemurrs were.

If we and Kris reject Ralsei as a love interest, we can a different romantic partner in Noelle...but this choice has a bodycount, traumatizes Noelle, doesn't seem to leave Kris any happier, and it's still a kind of straight-coded ship. Now it's the knight being paired up with the apocalypse maiden, for the doomed codepedent toxic tragedy lovers out there. But it kinda makes sense too, right? If Kralsei is the expected RPG romance, then Kriselle would be the expected romance if there were no Dark World and Ralsei weren't an option. They're childhood friends and neighbors in a small town, their families used to be very close, Rudy is still very fond of Kris. They're even extremely angel/devil coded.

But the most interesting part is. It's implied that there IS someone that Kris is very interested in, either platonically or romantically. It's Susie. Kris never seems frightened by Susie when they're bullied by her, and rejects Noelle's offers to switch seats. They seek comfort from Susie rather than Ralsei after the Spamton fight, they call her their friend when Toriel calls, they share moss with her, they refuse to think about her during Snowgrave when Ralsei prompts them, they make it clear that out of all the people they COULD go to the Carnival with, Susie is the one they'd ACTUALLY want to choose.

And this is the part that drives me crazy. Because while Kris is so tightly controlled by genre and narrative, and those things would usually push them towards Ralsei or Noelle, and Ralsei keeps encouraging Kris to stick to the narrative. Susie is the one who refuses to be bound to the narrative. Susie is the character of Deltarune who is most unapologetically herself--and isn't that a very queer thing, refusing to be anyone but yourself despite everything? She says no thanks to the prophecy, until she comes around to it on her own terms! She makes herself and Ralsei learn to take their own actions, and drags Ralsei off to have fun with him instead of letting Kris choose who to with! She doesn't stay in her box of the damage-dealing fighter, she insists on learning Healing magic, even if she's not particularly skilled at it at first! Even Ralsei is forced to admit that it's wonderful that Susie is Susie, and not anyone else!

I think Kris likes Susie a lot. And part of it may be admiration. That while Kris is controlled by the player and the narrative and the prophecy and humanity and divorce and a dozen things outside their control, Susie refuses to ever be bound by anything. And Kris and Susie together happen to be the two more masculinely-coded party members, the two melee fighters, the two troublemakers. It honestly makes me wonder a little if Susie and Kris might be able to make their own ending beyond the bounds of gender expectations and romance expectations together? It would be cool. And I think it would make Kris very happy to break free like that.

[magical-regical]

Hey can someone tell me why the new after ending for Scarlet Rain is making me like the umbrella man?

Fr tho, his smile fading and then him just disappearing if you tell him to leave actually made me feel bad. It also made me realize he probably doesn't know how to show 'affection' other than getting really close into your personal space and asking for your name because people can't fucking touch him.

I know this is probably obvious, especially for long time Mr Scarletella fans out there but my two braincells finally generated enough electricity to comprehend just how perfectly it explains his behavior.

... I guess I'll cut it here. More yapping (so much yapping) under the moss if you want to hear me rambling about how silly umbrella man operates and silly umbrella man being soft.

You can tell how over the moon he is if you tell him you like/love him because of the wall of red text that covers your screen but then the screen turns red. Does that imply we died? No, I think he tried to teleport behind us but ran into us instead.

Is there evidence to back up that theory? No. But hear me out. We know hitting him with a crowbar doesn't work and that he can glitch in and out of different places. He pulls us in with his umbrella and the only other time we directly 'touch' is in the Scarletella ending where we pick up the white/transparent umbrella and that ending seems to imply we did end up getting our soul taken by the umbrella man.

My theory is he can only be touched if he's obtained someone's soul which is another reason why he's so desperate for our name. This is most likely something he had to figure out himself because it's not specified in the rumor abt him so therefore it's probably among the many things he forgot when we damaged his umbrella. Even if he did remember, there's no way for him to know it works the other way around as well.

So imagine his shock when he smacks into you.

Imagine what comes after that! Would you hold on to him to keep both of you from falling? Would you laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face? An error has occurred, please open and close your umbrella to reboot.

"You. Happy?" He'd ask.

Just smile and place a hand on his cheek. His eyes will (somehow) widen even more before closing as he leans into your touch and rubs his cheek against your palm. You can try to pull your hand away but he'd hold it in place, his grip almost too tight.

"Your. Hand. Me. Like."

Use your other hand to pull his head closer so that your foreheads are touching, eventually he'll end up fully resting his head on your shoulder. Take both of his hands and wrap them around yourself, teach him that this is called a 'hug' and it's something only people who like each other can do.

"Ha— Hua— Haug." he'll struggle to form the word but he'll get it eventually.

Usually the bodies he can touch are either dead or trying to run away or attack him even if they've given him their name (rude!). He's never had someone hold him so gently, he'll be at a loss as to how to return the gesture. So he just does what he always does and mutters. "Like. You." over and over again while almost squeezing the daylights out of you.

He'd stay like that forever if you let him. It's only when you tell him it's time to go home that he pries himself off of you. But please don't let go of his hand. He wants to hold it as the two of you walk home. He doesn't remember anything prior to you naming him but that doesn't matter. Not when your hand, so small yet so warm and soft, is holding his. Surely someone who touches him so gently couldn't be bad.

Even if you are, so what? He loves you. Bloody raincoat and all. He's decided. From the moment he laid eyes on you, you've captured his heart. He's yours and you're his. Forever and ever. Not even death can do you apart. Not if he has anything to say about it.

[yaut-jaknowit]

So I saw the post about Gawtin doing anything in her power to increase the readers lifespan. So I am thinking perhaps she is researching ways on how to do that when she stumbles upon something about their blood being able to increase a humans lifespan by quite a bit. So she goes and gets permission from the council (maybe a bit of arguing cause I don't think giving blood to a ooman is looked well upon) then ya giving blood to the reader

- 🥤

Forever At My Side

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2118

Summary: With your time around Gawtin, she has come to dreadful thoughts you lifespan compared to hers. You will only live at most for a hundred years. That is far too short to experience your love and passion. Gawtin sets out to find what she can do to help. This gains unwanted attention.

Author Note: This made me do some worldbuilding and I love it! We get to see who is part of Gawtin's life and hear about a city on Yautja Prime as well. Of course, the city I've created isn't part of canon. I can't find much about Yautja Prime so I just get to worldbuild about it.

Masterlist

Ao3

There are special properties within Yautja blood. Many of them helpful to other species. Yautjas are seen as a superior species among the universe. The research of what their blood could do for others has been dove into. Not deep, but enough to know.

When Gawtin came to conclusion that she wants you till the end of either of your lifespans, she calls upon a favor.

Amongst the Yautja as a whole, the scientific side is reclusive. Not many will give up their life for science, believing the hunt is everything to them. Yet, despite this group being so small compared to the amount of Yautjas alive to this day, they’ve discovery plenty. This includes their main way of travel: their spacecrafts. Or their biomasks when a planet’s atmosphere doesn’t fit their own needs. Or even for a ooman living on a planet who’s air would suffocate you. All this done by those willing to sacrifice their livelihood to further the advancement of the Yautjas.

This is where Gawtin shots a message to a scientist in Kov; a major city on Yautja Prime. Someone who owes her favor. One she’s cashing in for you. Always for you. If there’s a chance to extend your life, she’s willing to do it. Anything to keep you with her longer.

In the beginning, Gawtin knew of the risks of taking on a ooman mate. Mainly their short lifespan. That was a concern. Of course, it was. But, she’s never seen a ooman like you before. So willing to put yourself between the scum who captured and hunted her while heavily pregnant. You even killed for her, protecting her from said scum. Though, she was forever in debt to you. She’s not doing this to repay such debt. She’s doing this for you to be at her side until her heart gives out.

Until Voth-ocheb gets back to her, Gawtin has wait as the patient hunter she is. The moss green Yautja has a feeling this won’t fail her. She feels it in her blood.

On one of the many days the two of you are relaxing, you find yourself in your mate’s lap. With your butt between her thighs, legs thrown over one thigh while your back rests against the other. It’s a seat you would die for. There was nowhere better to be.

One of the advancements you were extremely happy Yautjas have was the fact you could connect with earth’s internet. Even if you were hundreds upon hundreds of light years away. It was only one tap away. You find yourself tapping away on your tablet to fill the day. Today, you didn’t feel like drawing and wanted to snuggle up to your mate until sunset. Not that Gawtin minded. Not one bit.

In the middle of her reading, she turned her head towards the front door. Someone was coming. A little unusual. Yautjas are known to be mainly solidary. You knew you would be forced to get up so Gawtin could answer the door. In preparation, you shimmed off of her lap and next to her. Gawtin pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and began to make her way towards the door.

Halfway towards the entrance, Gawtin hesitated then cursed lowly under her breath in Yautja. Your burrows furrowed at the strange antic. Never have you ever seen the female act such a way. In all honesty, she almost looked… nervous.

Yet, that apprehensive expression was washed over by a neutral expression. Years of training falling into place.

On the couch, you peeked over and watched as Gawtin opened the door. Your eyes widened at the sight of a massive female standing a couple of inches taller than Gawtin in the entrance. What adorn her told you exactly who this is; only having met the Yautja once before when Gawtin had make her case to keep you.

Gawtin’s mother: Ma’tan-Aih. Ruler of this tribe. The War-ak’ox tribe. Baroness Ma’tan-Aih. It’s the closest title that could translate into English from Yautja.

An expression you were famialir with was etched into the moss green Yautja’s face as she looked down at her daughter. “Gawtin, may I enter?” Her voice was commanding in every sense, causing you to shutter. Her Yautja accent heavy and thick, nearly making it impossible to listen to her words. You jerked down to hide behind the back of the couch from her steely gaze. The last thing you wanted was for those purple eyes to be directed at you.

“Yes, Baroness Ma’tan-Aih,” Gawtin allowed and called her mother by the proper title. You tensed up, white knuckling the tablet at the knowledge Ma’tan-Aih was entering your safe space. Before either of them could come into the living you, you attempted to look busy on the tablet so the attention was off of you.

Their footsteps were light on the soft wooden floor. Both of them made their way into the living room. Right where you were. Gawtin returned to her seat next you and even scooped you into her lap. Your muscles refused to relax under the scrutinizing gaze of the baroness. This couldn’t be happening. Why did she even want to speak with Gawtin? The two of them rarely even say a word to each other. Now, her mother wants to have a sit down in Gawtin’s cottage.

Your hands trembled holding onto the device. Gawtin was quick to cup both of them in one of hers. It took all of her might not to purr. She despised the fact you were uncomfortable in your own home due to her mother’s sudden, unannounced appearance. Yet, this is her mother she was talking about. Unless she challenged for the baroness title, there was nothing Gawtin could do in this situation.

Despite your eyes glued to the screen, you felt the laser focus of the baroness’s gaze zoned in on you. Your chest rapidly moved with each intake of air. You attempted to focus again on the tablet, anything to get your mind off of her. That unfortunately failed.

Baroness Ma’tan-Aih sat down gracefully on a chair across from the two of you. Gawtin watched each twitch, each movement made by her mother closely. She knew this was farthest thing from a catchup. This was business.

“Daughter,” Baroness Ma’tan-Aiu started with, “It has come to my desk you are fiddling with something you shouldn’t be wasting your time on.” With her heavy accent, it was hard to know if you heard right. Your burrows furrowed while gazing up at your mate’s beautiful face. Questions whirled to life inside of your scattered mind.

“Dam, what I do in my free time is none of your concern,” Gawtin stated and laid down a firm boundary. Not that her dam had to listen to her at all. “I have my favors. I can use them to my liking.”

A single studded brow rose due to the borderline rude words of Gawtin. “Yet, you use them in a foolish way. Why waste such a favor on trivial matters? Things can be replaced for good riddance.”

Though, you didn’t know what the subject was about, you instantly felt the tension in the air grow increasingly taunt. You gnawed on your bottom lip and watched as one of Gawtin’s mandibles twitched.

“It can never be replaced,” she grounded out in a tone you felt yourself fear. “I will never replace such a thing.” Her hand clenched down on yours, causing the bones in your hands to creak under the sudden pressure. “My mate is here to stay. I have already completed the challenges you laid before me.” Wait, what? This has something to do with you?

The Yautja before you waved off Gawtin’s words with a flick of her wrist. “Yes, yes. I know,” she scoffed. “But to ask someone in Kov to research such a dangerous topic? Daughter, you are a fool. You must know to go through with this, you must go to the council of Cu'stouirll before you go to the monarch herself. Cu'stouirll is known not to be pleasant.”

Gawtin sat up a little higher in her seat. “I will do what is needed to follow through with this.”

It was all too much information at once. They were supposedly talking about you and either someone or something named Cu'stouirll. Which sounded to be a bad thing. You gazed up at Gawtin in hopes for an explanation but received none from the focus hunter.

Baroness Ma’tan-Aih bristled at her daughter words. “As much as I loved your sire’s stubbornness at times, this is not the time to flare it. You must know what this could mean… Especially for those who have also taken an ooman as their mates. This could be opening pandora’s box for the worse.”

It’s not hidden that many of the other Yautjas in this tribe dislike your presence. If it wasn’t for the fact you saved Gawtin and Qui’oky from death, your case would’ve collapsed before your very eyes. The baroness does not want other ooman mate’s to have the same opportunity to whatever Gawtin is planning. You knew whatever Gawtin was fighting for was for the good of you.

Yet, Gawtin didn’t change her stance on the subject and kept the same gaze upon her mother. “Then, let that happen. I will do whatever it takes to keep my mate at my side for as long as possible.” Even with that, you couldn’t piece together what was still happening.

On the other side, the green Yautja sat up from her seat to tower over the two of you. In that moment, you didn’t feel scared or intimidated by the baroness. Not with your mate at your side, prepared to do anything to keep you safe and out of harms way.

“Lady Gawtin, when this falls upon my court, you will have to ensure your case is concrete. I can already tell you, I will not accept this. Letting an ooman be injected with our blood?! It’s an abomination!” Baroness Ma’tan-Aih snapped then spun on her heel and marched out of your cottage.

Your lungs seized with a sharp gasp. Your eyes snapped up to Gawtin with uncertainty swirling inside of them. “Gawtin? What does she mean?” you asked immediately after her mother’s departure.

Her dark purple eyes watched the closed door for a few more seconds before she gazed down at you. One of her hands cupped your cheeks and gingerly ran a coarse thumbpad over your cheekbone. “I had wished not burden you with this theory until I have received the results,” she whispered, this time in English.

“What do you mean, love? I’m completely confused,” you begged for answers and hoped she could soothe your worries.

A sigh escaped the female Yautja. “Ooman’s do not like as long as Yautjas. It is a known fact. A fact that I have come to terms with. But, you, my mate, are everything to me. If I can do something, anything in my power to ensure you stay with me longer, I will go to the ends of Yautja Prime to make sure that happens. Even if I have to fight my mother for this, I will. She nor anyone else will not stop me from reaching my goal.” You smiled softly up at her, eyes closing to nuzzle into her hand.

“Oh love, that’s so sweet of you.” You reached up and cupped the back of her massive hand against your cheek. You carded your fingers through her own. “You don’t know how much I appreciate all that you do for me.” When you reopened your eyes, you glanced down at the couch cushions. “Your mother wasn’t very happy about that though.” A statement but made to be open as a question.

Gawtin shook her head, tresses swaying with the movement. “No, she’s never happy. I could care less about her opinion. Yours is the only one that matters. If wish for me to stop, I will. But if you are wanting to continue, I will let this go on. The choice is yours,” she offered wholeheartedly. Every step you’ve made in her world has been at the hands of you. You are in charge. As always.

You opened your eyes to look directly into hers. “If it means I get to stay with you longer, then the answer is yes. Anything to be with you longer is an easy choice.”

The Yautja burst out purring and leaned down, practically breaking her back to rub her head against yours. Vibrations raced along your skin. You giggled and nuzzled with her. A life by Gawtin’s side is a life you would never trade for.

[pooks]

back on my straw hat!Ichiji bullshit and i am cooking

here's some headcanons i've got;

headcanon number 1 imagine Classy Trio (Ichiji, Robin and Brook) just casually having tea and watching the usual Zoro and Sanji bickering/sparring session

Ichiji: I can't believe that my brother in law will be a ball of sentient moss. But as long as he makes my little brother happy.

and the kicker is that Robin and Brook just agrees (especially Brook, who probably the biggest ZoSan shipper XD). the classy trio is a very sophisticated group, they have teatime with biscuits and discuss various topics

no one understands how it works and no one bothers to. post-timeskip, they're the second strongest fighting group after the Monster Trio. in fact, during Wano Arc, Ichiji joins Robin and Brook to save Sanji from Black Maria (Ichiji is bi and demiromantic, so he's kinda immune to female enemies trying to seduce him. he's already given away his heart for Robin and Franky.)

second headcanon Ichiji reminding certain pirates of Red-Haired Shanks is a running gag. even better when poor Ichiji doesn't even know who the guy is.

the first time Luffy put his hat on Ichiji's head to comfort him (he had a bad mental health day and nearly resorted to self-harm), Luffy went still for a moment or two because he instantly got reminded of Shanks. Ichiji isn't complaining about the hug he got from his captain, but it was nice and a little confusing.

(then later at Loguetown, Buggy nearly flipped his shit because he thought Shanks came back to haunt his ass XD)

it went so far that Ichiji got called "Shanks" by some pirates who has met the guy and poor Ichiji is like "who?"

(once Ichiji gets to meet the actual guy, it's gonna such a spiderman meme)

headcanon 3 Ichiji canonically likes whiskey, but i decided to add rum to his favorite drinks. he drinks sometimes with Zoro, but is unable to outdrink him (he comes third in alcohol tolerance, behind Zoro and Nami). Ichiji likes rum because he believes "a real pirate should like rum"

post-WCI and he turns to alcohol to deal with it. he doesn't gave good trauma responses and it goes far enough to make Chopper worry for his health. enough that Nami threats to throw the rum overboard if he doesn't square up.

this prompts him to nearly fight Nami for the sake of rum

Ichiji: you would dare to challenge me?! Nami: bring it on, bitch boy!

Sanji puts an end to it by locking all alcohol behind five locks in the galley. he's the cook, after all, and the galley is his dominion. Zoro and Ichiji has to wait until dinner to get their sake resp. rum

headcanon four Ichiji is tall and very muscular in canon, but in this au, he's slightly different

he's still taller than Sanji and while he has a little more distinct muscular structure, he's also a little more slender. this is a side effect from starving on the rock with Sanji and Zeff, so it has affected him in his later years. he's not a buff hunk, but he's not a slender twink either (google the english diver Tom Daley, that's sorta his body physique).

Ichiji also have a more androgynous face and dresses himself in a non-binary way. this is the reason why Brook mistook him for a woman at their first meeting, but Ichiji set him straight (lmao) after that. he's aware that gender is fluid and isn't always strictly male or female.

post timeskip and he's more comfortable in who he is. he did a lot of soul-searching for the two years he trained on an unknown canyon island and officially comes out as bisexual, demiromantic and genderqueer. he still uses he/him pronouns since he feels most comfortable with them.

headcanon 5 Ichiji keeps Zeff on the loop of most things and he does it whenever he gets a chance. he has the dial number to the Baratie memorized in his head and he gets his chance whenever he comes across a den-den mushi (for public use, often found in most inns at the islands they dock)

he informs Zeff where they are, what kind of adventures they've had so far, how he and Sanji are doing and asks how things are at the Baratie. he's sorta like a "dutiful son" (he canonically are, but it's very debated if it's because of his modifications)

the relationship between Zeff and Ichiji is portraited in a more mature-ish way. Ichiji is the older son, so he knows and understands more while Sanji is a little more bratty.

the minute there's total radio silence from Ichiji during WCI and there's shady people around the Baratie, that's when Zeff knows something is wrong

headcanon 6 Ichiji has the worst potty mouth. we all know that Sanji is foul-mouthed, but Ichiji is worse.

believe me, when they grew up on the Baratie, Ichiji listened to the cooks around him swearing and cursing up to a storm in the kitchens. everyone thought that he didn't care, compared to Sanji who mimicked them constantly (and got a pegleg on his head). but now, Ichiji was quiet because he was learning and memorizing from his surroundings until he got old enough to swear casually.

Ichiji isn't allowed around Chopper when he's in a bad mood, because his curses are so crude that neither Zoro or Sanji wants the little doctor to learn that.

no, he doesn't care if he's a bad influence. Ichiji has always done whatever he wanted. XD

[luffyvace]

Zoro x reader x Sanji poly relationship headcanons

yes this a poly

no this is not nsfw just funnies and fluff

consider this my 200+ (now 300+) notes special

thank you all so much for the support you guys are awesome<33

💖

first of all idk how you got these two to settle down and SHARE a partner but ok.

don’t think for a second they aren’t gonna argue and fight over you

they argue whether the moon is purple or not

why wouldn’t they do the same over you?

it’s obvious they’re constantly fighting over your attention

and who gets to save you

(which sometimes distracts both of them and you don’t end up getting saved- either that or franky or robin swoop in)

then they’re arguing about why the other didn’t hurry up and save you

sanji flexes his cooking and zoro his swords

they argue over who you love more and who you think is more attractive

don’t even get me started on who you think is stronger

yeah.

your relationship is pure chaos.

on a softer note

when zoro is sleeping

you and sanji have cooking lessons together if you don’t know how

he lets you help prepare simple things for dinner

and you feel accomplished once everyone says how tasty the food is

zoro will mention how it tastes better when you help to spite sanji

sanji is mad but he also feels happy that you helped

he’s conflicted 😭

he just sighs and gives it up this time

only because it’s partially a compliment to you

but if you can cook

sanji will give you tips on how to improve and what spices taste good with what

especially as a first rate chef

he will let you prepare whole dishes instead of just cutting up stuff

loves cooking with you as quality time

plus dinner gets done 2x faster

luffy will still bombard you to go faster tho

the whole crew has to deal with the antics of “who do you think ____ likes more?! me or moss head?!”

“_____ thinks i’m way strong than that ero cook don’t they?” *cocky smirk*

zoro forces you train with him no matter how strong you are

this is a problem with sanji tho

“Lovely _____-chan/kun should be relaxing!! not doing hard work and labor with you!”

unless you like to train

then he will bring you plenty of tasty refreshments and snacks throughout your training :)

They purposely crash each other’s dates with you

you and sanji had been through a wonderful night of shopping, eating and playing carnival games at the newest island you stopped at

there were traditional japanese lanterns that reflected off your elegant face as he stares into your lovely (color) eyes

you were leaning into a romantic kiss

faces inching closer together

“oi _____! there you are! ive been looking for you everywhere! did you get lost or something?”

zoro grabbed your arm and took you away starting to ramble on about the new sword he managed to get a deal on

que sanji cursing him out then sulking and venting to robin about what happened

and let’s not even mention the time you and zoro went on that long romantic walk in the flower field you found

(he claimed to have planned it out but knowing him you knew he’d never arrive to the right destination so you figured out it was a bluff)

but it didn’t matter, it was a beautiful sight to experience with your lover.

your feet started hurting and you asked to sit down

luckily you packed food in your backpack so you had something to eat

you guys had some lunch and chatted for a bit

before long you found yourselves watching the sunset in silence

you turned to zoro to admire his beautifully sculptured face only to realize how close your faces were

you both started to lean in and close your eyes

“_______-Chwan/kun~!! there you are! what a beautiful flower field maybe we can!-“

sanji was livid to see zoro beat him to it and was already living his dream

you were kinda upset because most of your dates with zoro were gym dates and this would be your first romantic one

even if it was unintentional sanji still kind of ruined the moment

zoro and sanji started arguing and you never got your kiss :(

random for both of them

sometimes you take naps with zoro

he usually falls asleep and you come and cuddle up next to him

he’s pleased to see you when he gets up and feels proud, like your big strong protecter

even if you can defend yourself

for sanji

he rants to you for hours about all blue and his childhood

the second part only after whole cake

and it’s kinda venting if you don’t mind

if you seem uncomfortable he’ll stop

but he liked having someone to go to

he realizes how much he’s been rambling and feels bad

he gives you a chance to rant about your dreams

he listens intently and seems almost more excited than you

btw

if your strong they’re glad you can defend yourself

so they don’t worry as much

zoro would wanna spar with you even more

but if your in the coward trio

they always argue over your safety

what did you expect?

they both make sure to keep an eye on you

they would risk they’re lives for you

and two strong men like them?

yeah, your for safe for sure

anyone who dares to hurt you physically or mentally are done for.

sanji would ask usopp to make you some sort of contraption if your regular like nami

once you get whatever weapon usopp makes for you zoro wants to spar even more

”let’s test out that new thing-a-ba-jig of yours”

”ZORO WAIT I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW IT WORKS-“

if your intelligent zoro will rely on you for those types of things

”oi _____ come crack this code”

”what in the world is _____”

sanji praises you and admires you for it

will ask for synonyms for cooking terms and use them more often to try to impress you

will listen to your intellectual rants about smart people stuff 🤓☝️

sanji treats you how he does robin and nami

no matter what or who you identify as

(maybe more—he loves you a lot)

neither of them care about your appearance

sanji is more superficial than zoro

but he loves you and would never judge you so no need to worry about that

he’ll always praise you and have heart eyes around you

praises you how he does nami and robin

zoro gets annoyed and tells him to shut up

it’s not that he doesn’t agree it’s just he’s tired of all the yelling

he’s trying to nap

”WHAT?! you don’t think ____ is absolutely amazing in every way?!”

they start fighting

of course

if your fine with the chaos you’ll pretty much be okay

but if it annoys you, you’ll probably loose your sanity

have fun with your new guard dogs!

[blues824]

Jade leetch with the female tighnari.

🍄They are both animal hybrids that love mushrooms and love nature they are perfect together.

🍄Jade taking care of her because of a mushroom she ate but can't get mad at her mushrooms are delicious.

🍄Floyd not liking his brother talking even more about mushrooms especially whith his equally mushrooms loving s/o.

🍄Them going on hike dates and and one day during a windy day her comppaing about her ears and how she dislikes it My ears... My ears... They're going to be blown inside out! .

(Feel free to add anything you want)

🍄This may sound strange, but although the blood of a carnivore runs through my veins, mushrooms are the one food that I can't give up. There are many species of edible mushrooms. Whether fresh or dried, they all give off a unique scent. Even when stewed with meat, it's the mushrooms' aroma that comes out on top~tighnari

Jade Leech

Like you said, you are absolutely perfect together. But, you come from different backgrounds entirely. Either way, you both were fascinated with nature. You both knew a lot about mushrooms, and you even joined the Mountain Lover Club so that you could experience more nature with the one you love the most.

Floyd was happy that his brother was happy, but not happy about constantly hearing about mushrooms whenever he needed something from Jade. To the wilder tweel, you were a match made in Hell, put together just to torture him. He wishes everyday that the two of you would find another hobby, only to be disappointed… constantly.

As much as you love him, he loves to tease you even more. This could be calling you ‘foxy’, or teasing touches on your ears every once in a while. He just loved seeing them twitch a bit, as the sensation tickled you. You weren’t exactly appreciative of it, but he makes up for it in the views he shows you on the mountains you both like to hike. He wouldn’t mind giving you a piggyback ride on the way down, either.

On one of these adventures, however, you had ingested a mystery mushroom, and it ended up getting you sick. Grim was panicking, but he picked up your phone and called Jade, who ran over to Ramshackle to see you sleeping in your bed. He brought the back of his hand to rest upon your forehead before realizing that you had a very high fever. 

The eel took it upon himself to nurse you back to help, much to your dismay. You were very nitpicky about whatever he did. But, he knew what he was doing. The food he fed you was void of mushrooms, which you were not a fan of. However, once you show signs of recovery, Jade does carry you outside and set you down gently on a moss-covered rock so that you could get some fresh air.

But, there was a sudden whoosh of wind that sent a chill down the Vice Housewarden’s spine. He turned to look at you to see if you were cold, but you were instead trying to cover your ears. Through a runny nose, you were saying that your ears hurt because of the wind, and so he promptly took you back inside of Ramshackle.

To try and help with the aching, he would gently massage your ears. He loved how the feeling made you melt, and you pulled him into bed next to you and laid your head on his chest. Jade let out a soft chuckle at how clingy you were being, as it was a side of you that you did not like to show outside of closed doors.

[writtenonreceipts]

Elucien Week Masterlist // AO3

Day One: Fated

A huge thanks to @elucienweekofficial for hosting and all the wonderous fun you've created for this ship and spreading so much love and fun in the fandom!

`warnings: angst with a happy ending, ~4.5k words

.*.*.*.*.*.

maybe these lights'll take you home

A street lamp flickers in and out as she drives down the old street that teeters along the edge of the main city.  The winding road passes through the neighborhoods that have either been abandoned or forgotten about as it roams along the bay that stretches out to the ocean.  The sides of the street are overrun by blackberry vines and ferns that haven’t been cut back in years and no one has bothered to complain enough about it for the city to clean it up.  Even here, there is a wildness to the world.  Even here, there is an unknown feeling that lingers in the back of her mind that tells her to stay awake.

It’s not like she has much choice, sleep has been fleeting and hard to come by.  Whether the stress or the general weight of being—Elain doesn’t know exactly.  She does, however, know that these sleepless nights of the past month have been slowly driving her mad, slowly beating her down, slowly leading her mind to places it shouldn’t be.

She’s never sure where she’s going on nights like this.  But when she wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and dark house, she knows there will be no rest.

So here she is now, driving aimlessly among the trees and the silence.

That heartbreaking silence.

When a dirt road appears amid the foliage, Elain takes the turn, quick.  Gravel crunches beneath the tires of her car and she can hear the slight spinout that happens before everything is under control once more.

Not for the first time, she thinks that she really ought to slow down while driving especially if she’s going to take turns like that where there’s a ditch on either side of the narrow road.

Oh well.  Maybe next time.

She’s driven this road dozens, if not hundreds, of times before.  She knows it well and knows how the curves feel beneath her and when to avoid the deeper potholes that no one will bother fixing any time soon.

She lets herself get lost in the familiarity as the dirt road curls through the trees, slowly clawing its way into nothing.  The sky disappears into the overhanging canopy and the thick shrubbery along the side of the road closes up any pockets of open space on the ground.  She’s almost completely surrounded.

The yellow gleam of her headlights illuminates the way as the car crawls along.  There are the occasional turnouts to private property and turn around spots the deeper she goes.  Only a few people still live out here and they can be rather protective of their land.  But she doesn’t let that change her mind.  She’s driven up this way so many times before in the past that she feels immune to the wary stillness of the world.

When the road finally opens up to a clearing, Elain feels a thread of disappointment pull through her mind.  For now, her journey is over.

Patches of moss and grass encroach along the edges of the clearing in an attempt to reclaim the earth.  Soon the heat of the summer and the occasional hikers that stalk through the area will put a stop to any chance of new growth.  For a moment, Elain wonders how long it will take the plants to stop trying all together, for their genetics to realize that no matter how hard they try to change, to reprogram—it won’t happen.

She pulls her car to a stop nearly right in the middle of the clearing.

It’s the middle of the night, no one will bother to come out here.  

No one at all.

She tries to convince herself that she doesn’t care.  There’s only a scant possibility anyone would bother coming out here now.  And an even smaller chance of it being the one person she wants to see.

She gets out of her car and grabs a blanket from the back seat.  It’s still earlier enough in the year that the nights continue to hold a slight chill.  With the blanket wrapped around her, Elain settles herself onto the hood of her car.  She takes a moment to let the silence of the woods envelop her.  She’s always loved being out here.  There’s something about the trees and wildness that makes her feel alive.  And even in the middle of the night, she can still feel a bit of peace.  It would be better if it were the middle of day with an unencumbered sun filtering down on her, but she will take what she can get.

Leaning back, Elain looks up at the sky where dashes of stars are visible against the inky darkness.  Prythian isn’t quite in the middle of nowhere so it's not quite as brilliant as it could be.  But its enough.  For a moment she can pretend she isn’t there alone, sitting atop her car.  For a moment, she can pretend that there is more to life, to the universe, then just simply existing.  For a moment, she can pretend anything is possible.

And then the moment is gone when the soft rumble of another car makes its way up the road directly toward her.  There’s no other place for the car to be going, not this far up the path.  

Elain freezes, eyes darting to the side.  She hadn’t really been expecting anyone to come up here despite the silent hope of him.  Now, with someone approaching, she’s ready to get out of here.  Her solitude’s been ruined.  She hopes that she won’t need the pepper spray in the glove compartment.

She’s about to slide off the car when she realizes she knows the newcomer.  Because of course she does.  Of course fate would give her exactly what she wants when it terrifies her most.

Unmoving, Elain watches the white jeep (that really should be taken to a junkyard at this point) as it pulls into the gravel lot and comes to a stop, leaving plenty of space between the two vehicles.  It’s too dark to see through the windows but Elain watches anyway.

She watches as the driver door opens, the dome lights illuminating just enough that she can see he’s watching her too.  It takes several heartbeats before he moves again and gets out of the car with slow and deliberate care.  Elain swears she can hear his mind race, his heart thudding.  Or maybe it's her own mind that has turned to wild thoughts and her own heart that won’t simply be still.  She doesn’t know.

Because there standing maybe twenty feet away is Lucien Vanserra.  Summoned as if he could hear her thoughts, feel that inexplicable pull she always feels where he is concerned.  She doubts that he feels the same.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.  The shock is plain to hear and in better light Elain is sure she would see his face twisted in that confused way of his—utterly endearing but she won’t ever tell him that.

“I could ask you that same thing,” she says, desperate to remain casual in the way she’s sitting on her car.  

He hasn’t moved, hasn’t even shut his car door. 

The night practically clings to him in an unsettling way.  Lucien has always been light, he’s always been that one stark difference in Elain’s day, her entire life really.  Tonight is different.

“Come on, Vanserra,” she says and pats the space on her car that’s waiting for him.

He doesn’t move.

It has always been like this—this stilted silence, the awkwardness, the careful conversation.  They used to be friends.  They used to get on.  They used to simply be.

Elain has no way to explain it, but from the first moment she laid eyes on him nearly ten years ago when they’d been fifteen-year-old kids—she knew he was someone she would have in her life forever.  That he would be that constant presence, he would be someone to trust, to lean on.  There would be no getting rid of him.

They’d been friends in a fit of circumstance that slowly bled into necessity.  An escalation that she has no way to explain.  But Elain wouldn’t have had it any other way.  And she’d give anything to go back to the simplicity of youth where he was hers and she was his and nothing else mattered.

Time, of course, waits for no one and things inevitably change but she can still hope for some taste of what used to be.

And then they were eighteen with the world before them—just theirs for the taking.

And he’d left.

At the time, she supposed that was the way things went after high school, but Lucien—Lucien was supposed to stay.  She’d always thought he would.

And even if she had Graysen—a boyfriend she thought would be everything—it was never the same.  Graysen had been too good to be true and he left her with a broken heart and an uncertainty of the future.

“I don't bite,” Elain says when Lucien still won’t come closer.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he replies.

The words are soft but hold an edge sharper than a knife and Elain can’t help but recoil.  Barely.  He notices of course, he always notices.

“You were here first,” he adds quickly, but the damage is done.

Elain scoots back on the car hood, dragging her knees to her chest.  She looks away, off into the trees that hold onto the nighttime shadows.

“You’re the one that first brought me here in the first place,” she says.  She can’t help it.  She can’t help but to try and cling onto what used to be and hold onto the past as though it will somehow keep them both afloat in a raging sea of misery.

But she’s still hurt.  

Once he wouldn’t have hesitated in joining her.  Once his words would have been laced with humor and flirtatious undertones.

Once.

Not anymore.

Elain misses him.  Has for a while, but there’s been no way to tell him.  Not since he left in the first place and very nearly forgot about her aside from the occasional text.  There’s been no way to reach out to rekindle a friendship because there was Graysen and for whatever reason Elain felt guilty in even thinking about Lucien while she was still with another man.  

It’s fear, she knows.  Fear in the reality that things will never go back to what they once were.  And fear in the fact that he can still reject her.  Leave her again.  And she doesn’t know how to fix it, this rift between them that feels like a chasm.  

Elain misses him, though.  And it hurts like hell.

“Lucien,” she says when the silence grows too heavy.

She doesn’t know what else she wants to say or if there is even anything to say.  All she knows for certain is that it has been too long since she last spoke his name.

The headlights of the jeep continue to burn bright even as Lucien does step around the front of the car and towards her.  It’s good, she supposes, to not remain together in total darkness.  It’s far too easy to get distracted that way.

She watches him, entirely too tall with a lean build of muscle.  She knows he’s fit, has always played one sport or another and taken care of himself.  It doesn’t help that for some unholy reason he’s wearing a neat button up and slacks looking as though he just came out of a business meeting even at two in the morning.  His red hair is loose around his shoulders, only one piece hanging over his scarred eye.  He looks good, like she’d always imagined he’d be once out of the gangly teenager phase.  

“I thought you were leaving Prythian,” Lucien says.  He comes to a stop a few feet before her, hands in his pockets, head tilted to one side.  “You always wanted to.”

Elain laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, I did.”

But Graysen hadn’t wanted to.  Said it would mess up his plans for law school too much.  There was no time for such frivolity and she should think so too.  And by the time she and Graysen were finished her motivation left too.  The thought cuts deep and reminds her just how little she’s accomplished with her life and how far she’s strayed from her hopes, her dreams.

Shaking her head, Elain turns away from Lucien and resumes her casual lounge on the hood of her car.  The residual heat of the engine has worn off and she’s more aware of the chilly spring night than she had been before Lucien’s arrival.  She draws the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she settles back and looks up at the stars.  

When Lucien’s feet crunch on the gravel coming towards her, Elain’s heart picks up pace.  As much as she wants to be immune to Lucien, she can’t.  There’s always been something about him that she cannot shake.  Even though she hasn’t seen him in almost a year since his last visit home, he’s always been on her mind.

Lucien hauls himself onto the car beside her, long legs stretched out before him.  His motions are so casual and easy that Elain wonders if he’s even cared about the time that has passed since they last spoke, if its affected him as much as her.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come back,” Elain says, because even though she’s not sure where they stand, she doesn’t like the silence, not now. “You hate Prythian.”

“I don’t hate Prythian,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice and Elain thinks he’s lying.  At least in part.

So she calls him out. “Liar.”

He gives an undignified snort and glances over at her. “My, my, Elain, you’ve never been so blunt before.”

“And you’ve never been such a bad liar.” She narrows her eyes at him.  The force of her ire doesn’t seem to bother him though.  Lucien’s grin only broadens and he leans back, folding his hands behind his head as he stares up at the sky.

Illuminated by the lights of his jeep, Elain takes a moment to observe him.  She can’t see his scarred eye at this angle, instead all she can observe is the careful way he lays.  Just like she noticed before, he has a healthy look about him.  He has sharp cut jaw and straight nose (though she swears he’d broken it once after a fight with Tamlin Doyle).  His muscular frame is relaxed, for the most part.  Elain knows him well enough that he is still on guard, ready to leap away, to act, to move.  

“If you don’t hate Prythian, why did you leave?” Elain asks.  She isn’t sure why she asks, isn’t sure why it matters to her, but she can’t help it.  Besides, she still can’t help but be hurt by his decision to leave.  It’s been ages, she should be over it, she shouldn’t care.  But they used to be friends she deserves at least a little bit of closure.  Doesn’t she?

He doesn’t speak for a long moment.  Elain watches his chest rise and fall and light glint in the eye she can see.  Silence isn’t something that bothers her, not really.  She can appreciate the beauty in it, the connection.  But she swears there’s a distance between them, something like never before and that, that, is what she doesn’t like.

“You know why I left,” Lucien says. “Same reason you always wanted to.”

To live, to explore, to have something else in this life than the same rut of loneliness.  He knew better than anyone what it was like to want more out of life.  Just like her, he didn’t want to be defined by others' expectations.  Just like her, he wanted to be his own person.

“And was it worth it?”  She isn’t sure she wants to know the answer.  Even though there’s a bit of hope in her chest burning bright, nothing has ever worked out for her in situations like this.

Lucien continues staring up at the sky. “How’s Graysen?”

The question nearly knocks her over the side of the car hood.  He’s never asked about Graysen.  He’s politely listened or read her texts when she’s mentioned him, but he’s never brought him up before.  It’s no secret that Lucien doesn’t like the other man, but he’s been civil enough.  For her sake.  Because that’s Lucien.

Now Elain turns her attention to the stars.  She doesn’t want to answer him.  Doesn’t want that finalized truth ringing through the night.  No matter how badly she wants to forget about that part of her past, she can’t.  And when Lucien finally shifts, his gaze boring into her, she feels her chest constrict.  

“I don’t know,” she says, “he left me.”

The words are slow and painful as they rip from her.  It feels like she’s admitting to a failure, that she’s laying too much bare that she’ll never get back.  It’s a confirmation that she never was good enough—no matter how hard she tried.  Still tries.  But no one really knows her now and no one really sees her.  She’s just another cog that spins out of control and no one knows how to help her realign.

His gaze burns into her.  It’s inescapable and real, always has been.  But she can’t look at him.  If she does, she knows the tears that are burning behind her eyes will start to fall.  And if she starts crying now she won’t stop.  And she knows from Graysen that tears and crying and emotion is a certifiable sin.

“I never liked him,” he says.

“I know.”

Lucien may have tried to hide his dislike of the other man, but she knew.  She didn’t know the semantics and exactness of the why, but she knew.

“Elain,” Lucien begins, the soft scrape of his voice is too gentle.  Too gentle. 

“Don’t,” she says.  She can’t bear to hear his pity; she doesn’t think she can handle it.  That will most certainly push her over the edge.  Because it’s Lucien and where Lucien is concerned, she always tends to lose her mind, just a little bit. “It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Of course it matters.”

He wraps his hand around hers then, his fingers lacing between hers.  Elain stiffens at the action.  She certainly wasn’t expecting it and the heat of his skin and rough glide of the calluses on his skin.  The contact takes her back to the early days: when they were just kids trying to get through messy high school days and instead winding up on the bathroom floor while Beron was on a drunken rampage.  It takes her back to road trips through the dead of night only to wind up wondering if any of it was worth it.  It takes her back to saying good-bye and feeling as though her heart was ripped straight from her chest.

Over the years she’s felt as though something is missing.  And she’s known, even while trying to ignore it, she’s known it’s been Lucien.

And just that contact, just that feel of his skin against hers (no matter how innocent) is enough to remind her of what never was and what never could be.  Because they’d both made their choices.  And there was no going back, was there?

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain says again, voice harder than she intended.  She has to protect herself, after all.  

She tries to pull her hand from his but he won’t let her go that easily.  His fingers tighten around hers and she can feel his warmth radiating through his palm straight through her skin until it’s as though her own blood is sitting under a heat lamp.  She should have known he’s impossible to escape.  Impossible to forget.  No matter how hard she has tried in the past all she can think about is him.  How he’s endured these years, if he’s alright and happy with the way things have gone. 

She tells herself it’s because they’re friends and she cares for him like that.  But she is a fool.  She’s always been a fool when it comes to him.

“Don’t pull away from me now,” he says.

She has no choice but to look at him, he has that gravitating effect about him.  No matter how hard she tries—it comes back to him.

Even in the dark she can make him out, his strong jaw, the concerned furrow in his brow, the way his hair never quite stays contained in the band he uses to tie it back.

I’m not going anywhere, she would say if she could.  If she had that bit of strength within her to admit.

It’s the fear of rejection that keeps her quiet though.  She already put enough out on the line with Graysen.  He so fully wrecked her that she doubts she’ll completely recover.

Never good enough.  Never good enough.  Never.  No matter how hard she tried.  In the end, him leaving is the best thing to ever happen to her, really.  Though, it still feels like she is missing pieces of herself.

“You’re just as annoying as before, aren’t you?” she says.  She needs the distraction, something to take her mind away from those paths it dares to wander.

Lucien scoffs. “Not as bad as you.”

“I am a delight.”  Whatever anger or resentment or pain she’s holding onto dissipates, somehow.  And she tries, and fails, to hold back a smile so she turns away from him to settle back onto the car.

“Right,” he drawls, “which is why you blackmailed Feyre into helping you replant your entire garden?”

“Is it really blackmail if she deserved it?”

“Yes.”

Elain grunts a dismissal. “Whatever.”

Lucien throws his head back and laughs.  The sound of it warms Elain straight to her marrow.  She’s missed the sound of it; rich and full and complete.  And she’ll do anything to keep it with her.

I miss you, she wants to say.  But the words are stuck on her tongue, her lips, and they wait.  Just like they did ten years ago.  Just like ten years ago when he was getting ready to leave and she had the chance to tell him to wait.  To stop.  To just stay with her.

But she couldn’t.  Because there was her dad and Graysen and—

“I miss you.”  This time the words spill out before she can stop them.  

It’s the horror that does her in first.  Horror that she actually admitted it.  And then it goes into embarrassment because why, why, would she let the words even be a fleeting thought on her mind.

So, it’s with the utmost lack of grace that she tries to launch herself off the hood of the car.  She doesn’t make it very far because she is still holding Lucien’s hand.  Or maybe he is still holding on to her.  She isn’t clear on that front.  All she knows is that there is no escape from this mess that she finds herself in.

Hanging half off the car—her car, dammit—she looks up at him, the overhead lights inside the car bright enough to brighten his face to where the shadows have fled and his eyes are bright, so bright, as they watch her.

“Elain,” he says softly.  Too soft.  Soft enough that her heart threatens to shatter right there in that space between them.  

“I-I don’t,” she begins, not sure what she’s leading into saying but now that the initial admission is out—the floodgates remain open. “I don’t know why I said that.  I shouldn’t have said that.”

Why did she let him sit on the roof of the car with her?  

Because now she only has two options of escape.  Shove him over the edge and into the dirt.  Or get in and start driving hoping the momentum of a moving vehicle will fling him off.  Neither are very good solutions.

“Elain,” Lucien says again, his fingers tightening around hers.  

She feels like a deer in the headlights as she stares at him.  Her two options of escape are ludicrous and won’t do her much good if her body won’t move.  All she can do is watch him watching her while her heart beats so heavily in her chest and the warm night becomes too tacky and she can feel sweat bead against her back.  

“I wasn’t supposed to say that,” she whispers.

“But you did.”  He raises one brow to punctuate his words and the unspoken question hangs heavy in the air.

Her mouth goes dry and she considers shoving him off the car again.  But the man is built like a brick wall and she doubts she could even move him an inch.  She doesn’t know what to say—if she can’t shove him out of the way, she has to say something.  Anything.  Maybe that’s good, though.  Speaking has never been her forte.  Acting has never been her forte either.

But she does now.

She doesn’t think as she leans forward, snaking her free hand around Lucien’s neck and tugs him closer to her.  Before she can think and talk herself out of it—Elain kisses him.

She’s thought about it before.  For years.  Even back before there was that driving wedge of Graysen and growing up.  Back when they used to be kids who stayed up late trying to figure out life.  She’s thought about it when she was with Graysen while she wondered why things weren’t clicking the way they should have been and while she wondered why she always missed Lucien so much more.  She’s thought about kissing him when she’s been alone and wishing that things had been different.

And she thinks now, that reality is so much better than her imagination.

His body is hard against her—muscles firm and strong.  And she can taste a hint of apple lingering against his lips, mixing with the woodsy scent of his cologne.  Beneath her fingers, the ones curling against the back of her neck, she can feel his soft hair and the warmth of his skin.  

It is then that Elain comes to her senses.  Because really—what the actual hell is she doing?

When she tries to pull back though, Lucien doesn’t let her get far.  His fingers twine with hers against the hood of the car in a vice like grip that she wouldn’t have been able to break even if she’d wanted to.  He leans in close, his nose brushing hers, their foreheads grazing.

“Didn’t mean to do than either, I guess?” he says, amused.

Elain narrows her eyes and pulls back enough to shoot that glare at him but Lucien doesn’t seem to notice or care as he captures her lips with his again.

For the first time in nearly ten years, Elain finds that she’s right where she wants to be.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Not in love with the ending but my eyes are tired so here we are.  Happy elucien week friends! Love you all! Follow @writtenonreceiptswrites if you want notifs for my writing.

[portraitsofguilt]

Hi mossy! requesting again but this time just comfort,, any sort of comfort with the ow agents,, anyone you want <33 just need a little comfort in my life atm,,

feel free to ignore if you don't feel up to writing! and pls remember to take care of yourself 🫶🏽

✮ — CUDDLING WITH THEM ; widowmaker, kiriko, d.va, moira, mercy, brigitte, sombra, ashe, 

content warning; afab/gn reader. sfw ! — lowercase writing intended, no content warning applies

moss' notes; back from death !!! enjoy this fluffy little collection of drabbles and thank you for requesting celeste

— widowmaker˖⁠♡

widowmaker is not a woman who lets you cuddle her, no matter your reasonings, she cannot protect you if her arms are wrapped around you because she cannot reach for her gun like that, and having a third body like that in bed wouldn’t be comfortable for you. she refuses every single time but she will settle for letting you take her hand, lace your fingers with hers so you would stop demanding. you are happy and she is happy, perfect compromise.

“you keep your side of the bed, i keep mine… the hand is fine yes, it is… convenient.”

amélie however has a soft spot for holding you in her arms whenever she can, either in the bed or while watching tv and spending time together on the couch. she rarely sleeps on nights like that, she is trying to savor every moment that she can while being her true self. she doesn’t want to waste any minute while she can be with you when she can be outside so she pulls you as close as she can, enjoying the warmth of your skin against her cold body as you peacefully sleep.

“i can move if it’s uncomfortable for you, it’s just… i don’t often get to be this close and comfortable with you.”

— kiriko ˖⁠♡

most of the times, kiriko probably asks you to cuddle her or cuddles up with you when she is stressed. she likes whatever position, but half-spooning really is the thing that does it for her. kiriko enjoys holding your hand and playing with your fingers while her other hand is looped around you, circling either your back or arm. she can be a sort of menace, putting her cold hands under your shirt, telling you that they are cold and need to be warmed up.

“come here hanii, i need to cuddle you, hm? i am already laying down, come on now!”

— d.va ˖⁠♡

cuddling with hana is both good and bad. when it is a movie night and both of you ought to stay up, actively talk about what is happening and her little outbursts when somebody does something stupid keeps her up. at those times she is a really good cuddling partner, she likes holding onto you in any way she can cuddle up with your arm, or your chest, have you done the same to her or forced you to sit down on the floor, back against the back of the bed so she can loop around your neck and rest her head on your shoulder. but when it’s time to sleep and the two of you cuddle up, then she falls asleep, then she starts flopping around like a fish that ended up on the shore, stripped of water. she moves around, kicks, hogs the blanket, and takes up all the space on the bed! you cannot be mad at her, she is just so cute, but she is annoying.

“i am sorry nae sarang, it gets chaotic, gotta stay in the game at all times! let me make it up to you, please?”

— moira ˖⁠♡

physical affection doesn’t come to her naturally, she is always willing to comply with your request, experiment if you say that hugs in bed will make you happy. she will be eager to test your hypothesis. she finds it strange as you tighten your arms around her, how your heartbeat starts to fasten a little then calms down when you squeeze her a little stronger. she is just laying there like a dead body, her mind going at a speed of light, thinking of how it could be then her arms just wrap around you, her nails dragging along your skin. she once again picks up on your pulse racing a little before calming down and with all this over analyzing she is missing out the comfort that stirs in her, that her own heart is a little crazy as you lay so close to her.

“such a strange occurrence, your pulse seems to be all over the place my darling. my hand? i do not know… it just happened.”

— mercy ˖⁠♡

angela is a hopeless romantic and very affectionate, her love language varies between physical touch and words of affirmation. cuddling with her is like a fever dream, it’s the warmth that we all crave on a winter night. she likes to be face to face with you, brushing your noses together or with either your head in the crook of her head as she listens to how your day was, what you did, and what you plan on doing the next day. she progressively tightens her arms around your body, pulling you closer before sleep takes over her. she can hardly be coerced into taking breaks during the day so you gotta have to do with when she finally decides to come and lay in bed.

“liebling, your arms are my safe space, so that’s where i’ll be sleeping tonight, and you too, in mine! no safer than in the arms of a doctor.”

— brigitte ˖⁠♡

brigitte is a really good cuddling partner if not the best. she likes to be the big spoon and honestly who can deny her? but she wouldn’t mind you backpacking her, or would not object to it. she is estimated to be about 6 feet 3 inches tall, you bet she is gonna give the best bear hugs and cuddles. her strong arms looping around your frame, the breath of her sweet words hitting the top of your head before she plants a couple of kisses. there are times that she enjoys having your full body laying on her, literally, you are on top of her! she can’t really explain why it makes her so happy, but the plus weight on top of her is very comfortable for her, like a weighted blanket! it is embarrassing, she handles you like a baby at times like that, calls you one to tease you a little.

“you’re honestly the cutest when you’re all flustered and red. come on, don’t look so disappointed! you are the sweetest pie.”

— sombra ˖⁠♡

she is a bit awkward with it at first, slightly embarrassed to admit how much she needed physical comfort like this. she doesn’t know where to put her hands, where she can hold you and cannot, how to place her head or what would feel right for her so she just leans on you to show her. she really likes it when you cuddle her from behind, or the both of you are on your sides and you cuddle up to her chest. it is hard to believe someone like her would be at a loss of words yet could go on and on about how content she fills when being close to you like this. olivia is very shy to ask for such a simple thing, always needs to start all over again when she tries to ask for it.

“wanna, like- i mean, if you’re not busy… we could cuddle? or just hug that last a little while longer than it should, you know...”

— ashe ˖⁠♡

oh, how she loves cuddling after a long day between her gang members, having your head lay on top of her chest with her arms around your back, thumb slowly circling little shapes on the fabric of your shirt while she tells you all about what went down before the two of you got into bed for cuddling. elizabeth enjoys the feeling and knowing that she is protecting you as you are in her arms, safe from whatever might come. if you fall asleep she will just stare at you, no matter how her neck might hurt later, silently race her eyes around your face and study all your features. she can get a little cocky, and tell you all about how good it feels for her, the pressure on her tits, ask you if it’s the best pair of pillows you have ever had. of course she won’t tease you for too long if you find it too flustering or is not interested in talking about things like that. if you wanna enjoy the moment then be it, she will too, silently or while listening to you rant about what happened to you.

“you know you love me sugar, my wild heart, cuz i am wild at heart, that’s why you love me. don’t lie to me now, my favorite girl.”

tag list; @darlingmisa @soffisalive @sevikasangel @pixiegirlz @gonegonethankyouuu @xthescarletbitch @wolfheartsstuff

[marlynnofmany]

One Peril of Package Delivery

“Do you think this floats?” Paint asked, hefting the plasticky white box that was our delivery for the day. It had a label on top but no visible seams; I wasn’t even 100% sure that it opened, much less what was inside it. We weren’t paid to know.

“It kind of looks like it should,” I said. “Let’s not drop it in the river and find out. Sure you don’t want me to carry it?” I stretched out my long human arms as we walked.

“Nope,” Paint said cheerily. “My turn.” She rested her lizardy snout on top of it, clutching the thing like an orange-scaled toddler with a toolbox made for adults. It was a cute sight. I kept that observation to myself.

A stiff breeze made me glad for my coat. This was a solid walk between the spaceship and the client’s home, and while the scenery was nice, it was a bit cool in the shadows. Properly dressed, I could appreciate the alien trees that twisted into improbable spirals of blue bark, alongside this tributary of the river full of sparkling crustaceans. The rest of the crew had split up to follow different tributaries, with different deliveries, but those were surely not as pretty as this one.

Paint didn’t shiver at the breeze, because cold-blooded lizard aliens don’t shiver. She had a small heat shawl that looked like a red bandana tied around her neck. She’d assured me that it would keep her plenty warm, since it had little heat pockets of something-or-other that would generate warmth. And with the red on top of her mottled orange scales, it made her match the kind of Painted Sunset she was named for.

We’d been walking long enough to make me regret not asking to use the hoverbike when the tributary widened out into a lake, with the client’s house smack dab in the middle. It was an artful weaving of curved wooden beams, decorated with clay mortar and narrow stripes of wildflowers planted between the beams. Not a window or door in sight.

I’d noticed before that a lot of alien species could be compared to one Earth animal or another, sometimes subtly and sometimes in very obvious ways. The clients we were delivering to today were basically civilized beavers. I found this very funny in a way I couldn’t have articulated, so I kept that to myself too.

“So, do we just yell from the shore?” Paint asked, slowing as we approached.

“I think I see stepping stones,” I told her. “Let’s get a closer look.”

As we followed the shoreline, the stepping stones came into view. They turned out to be stepping logs, planted in the mud of the lake bottom, with a platform waiting in front of the house made of the same woven beams. No garden on this one, though. Just slippery-looking moss.

Oh, and a lantern on a post that glowed like a miniature sun. If I didn’t miss my guess, the little box near the top of the pole looked like a doorbell.

“I think our drop point is over there,” I said, coming to a stop near the first stepping log.

Paint held the box more tightly. “Really? Surely they’ll hear us if we yell loudly enough.” She looked around in that jerky lizardlike way, clearly hoping for any better options.

I wasn’t happy about it either, but at least the steps were close together. The only other sign of civilization around was the sharp drop-off of water at the end of the lake — this really was a beaver lodge; they’d even made a dam.

“Are these safe?” Paint asked, poking one clawed foot at the nearest log.

“I should hope so,” I said. “I don’t know how they expect to get their deliveries otherwise.”

Paint pulled her foot back. “Can we try yelling first?”

I shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

So we both stood there and shouted like the politest of absolute maniacs, and it did no good whatsoever. Either the sound didn’t carry through walls and/or water, or the client wasn’t home. Or they didn’t care about the package. But probably they just couldn’t hear us.

“Do you want to stay on the shore?” I suggested. “My legs are longer; I can handle the steps.”

“No, I can do it.” Paint stood tall like a confident toddler with a toolbox, and stepped carefully onto the log, tail waving for balance.

“At least let me carry the box,” I said. “Pretty sure I can hold it with one arm if it’s not that heavy.”

Paint’s eyes were wide and her mouth open for nervous breathing as she looked down at the water. “Yeah, okay.”

I put a foot on the log next to her, noticing that it wobbled slightly (which was just spectacular for morale), and I cautiously took the box. When I had it, Paint turned and leapt to the next log.

It really wasn’t that heavy. It probably floated. I was not going to find out. I tucked it under one arm and followed Paint.

We made it to the platform without any major disasters. There was indeed a doorbell on the lamp post, which Paint pressed triumphantly. Then we stood on the platform and waited, with Paint holding onto the pole for support and me wondering what the inside of the house looked like. Was the client in the bathroom? What was that even like here?

I saw motion in the water first, and pointed it out moments before something the size of a Saint Bernard surfaced with a splash in front of us.

Paint yelped and stepped back, her grip on the pole the only thing keeping her from scampering off the platform entirely. I jumped too, but held my position and got one shoe wet for my troubles. I was immediately 15% colder.

“Give it already,” demanded the client, perched on the underwater structure that held the platform up. He may have been an alien beaver, but his fur was all blue stripes like a fashionable tiger, and he was definitely glaring at us.

I stood up straight. “Payment first, if you please,” I said in my best customer service voice. I really hoped that this client wasn’t going to argue about it. This was a terrible place for that kind of debate.

But the client just grumbled and rummaged in a belt pouch that I hadn’t realized he was wearing, then slapped a handful of sparkly coins onto the platform. They looked like the local currency we’d been told to expect: something made from the shells of crustaceans like the ones filling the river upstream. I had no idea if it was enough. I’d just have to hope it was.

“Thank you,” I said, handing over the package.

The client grabbed it, grunted, and disappeared with a smaller splash this time. I shot Paint a relieved glance while I pried the coins off the muddy wood. Washing them at the edge of the platform was a tempting idea, but I didn’t want to drop any, so I just rubbed the mud off as best I could and shoved them into an empty pocket. Hooray for pants with lots of those.

I rinsed my fingers in the chilly water, rubbed them dry on my pants, then turned to Paint. “Ready to go?” At her eager nod, I started across the logs, with every other step squishy and cold.

The logs were mostly stable. Mostly. All but that last one, which gave in an alarming way when I hopped across.

“Watch out for th—”

Splash.

“Paint!”

The water was deep for the shoreline, and she sank nearly to her nosetip, arms flailing in a useless way that was more instinct than thought. I reached out for one and caught it, leaning and praying to anything that would listen that I wasn’t about to fall in too. I managed to haul her out, splashing icy water everywhere.

She wasn’t moving much, stiff with cold-shock, the shawl sodden and useless. I scrambled to grab handfuls of leafy weeds to dry her scales.

Hopefully these aren’t something toxic that wasn’t in the briefing, I thought grimly. Nothing to do about it if they are.

“Turn over; I’ll dry your other side,” I directed, unfastening the shawl.

Paint moved one arm, slow as a sloth. I rolled her over onto dry ground, then did my speedy best to get most of the water off. It didn’t help. She was hunched over and staring like a cold-blooded creature in dire straits indeed.

“Okay,” I said, thinking quickly. “Let’s get you off this cold ground and give me a hug.” It took some doing, but soon I had my crewmate on my lap with my coat wrapped around her. Wow, that was cold. Like hugging an ice pack.

She moved a little, nestling close.

“Does that help?”

A tiny nod.

“Can you stand?”

Headshake.

“Okay.” I thought some more. “New plan. Do you know what a piggyback ride is?”

Of course she didn’t, but it gave me something to talk about as a distraction while I pried her away just long enough to flip my coat around with the opening in the back, and urge her to climb on.

“No one’s been able to tell me why it’s named after pigs, and not an animal we actually ride, but my guess is that there were farm kids involved,” I said as she got settled. “They’re small enough to ride a pig. Not a terribly safe choice though, depending on the pig.” I freed a hand to grab the shawl and squeeze out the water before shoving it into a different pocket. Then, before I stood, I got out my phone and called the ship.

Kavlae answered. “Hey Robin, what’s up?”

“Medical emergency,” I said. “Paint got cold.”

“Got it. How cold?”

“Fell in the river, which is frigid. Can someone grab the hovercycle and meet us with a heat blanket?”

“Already on it. Eggskin!” she yelled for the medic and ended the call.

“Hhope … fast,” Paint hissed.

“Even if they’re not,” I said as I pocketed my phone and got to my feet, “I’m about to be. Nothing raises body heat for my species like a little exercise. Let’s see if we can make that heat blanket redundant!”

I took off across the grassy shoreline, pretending I was carrying one of my baby cousins who happened to be incredibly, dangerously cold, but was warming steadily.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

[wayfayrr]

You said there was no limit to asks so I hope you don't mind if I also request Four's reaction to a fem!reader with many piercings? (In Chain's world)

(thank you moss ily)

I don't mind at all!!! 💖 Only one type of piercing is the focus here but it is mentioned that reader has more! I hope you like it!!

“Hey Four have you seen a small metal bar anywhere, I took my industrial out and now I can’t find it anywhere. It's a tiny steel bar just shorter than my pinky finger.”

“No, I haven’t, an industrial? I don’t think I’ve heard of something like that before…”

So no leads asking Four either, it’s hard not to sound disappointed now knowing if I don’t end up finding it then it could close up before I either manage to find somewhere that sells them or find a way back to grab another of my own. If only I hadn’t worn one of my favourites the day I was brought here. The disappointment must be clear on my face if Four’s is anything to go off of. 

“What if I could make you a new one!? Would that cheer you up?”

“I couldn’t ask that of you Four, not with everything else we’re dealing with here. The supplies would be better used elsewhere.”

“Nothing is a better use than your happiness. It’s only small right? It wouldn’t take much to make. Besides, think of it as a gift to remember me by for if when you get back home.”

“If you’re so set on making it for me then I won’t stop you, but really, even if supplies aren’t an issue. Isn’t it still a bit inconvenient to make?”

“We’re in my Hyrule right now, so I have all of the equipment and since it’s small it shouldn't take all that long to make, should it? There’s no issue.”

 “If you’re alright with it then, don’t feel any pressure to do it though. Thank you, really.”

Pleased barely describes what he’s feeling right now, or at the very least what I can see flickering through his eyes. He won’t take no for an answer and with the chance of the hole closing up, I don’t think I have the energy to argue with him. 

"So you'll stay with me while I make it right? You'll have to make sure it's perfect after all. I can't give you anything less. Maybe I should start taking your other piercings so I have an excuse to make you more…"

Why does he keep muttering things under his breath like I can't hear him? They aren't really concerning things to hear the things I can hear at least, still they aren't the best things either. He seems very eager to do this for me though so turning him down would likely only hurt him more at this point. I don’t even have to say anything or do anything besides a simple nod before he’s dragging me along with him to his forge.

“Do you want me to make this look like your old one or can I be more creative?”

"I don’t mind as long as it fits. Although… actually if you're going to be making it… What metals do you have to work with? Piercings kinda need to be certain types so you don't get sick…"

“Titanium right? I- I overheard you talking to one of the others about it. It’s a bit more difficult to work with but I don’t mind.”

With how he’s talking about it all, it’s almost like he planned this out ahead of time. I know from the rest of the chain and the games, that titanium isn’t common in Hyrule. While it’s never mentioned in-game, I mean it makes sense that’s what the Hylian shield could be made from. But for Four to have some that he’s willing to use for something like this? It had to be planned.

“I’ll just need to take a couple of measurements if you’re alright with that?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead. I don’t want you wasting more supplies than what you’re alright with.”

Seems he didn’t hear the other half of that sentence, as he’s gently pushed me into a chair so that he can look at my ear more closely. Analysing it with a featherlight touch, rivalling even Hyrule’s as he gets the general sizings for what he’s planning to make. After that it’s just a matter of him getting to work.

[forgeofthenine]

SO! I found this super sweet and amazing song! Home to me from Moss. Its lyrics reminds me of the Shadowlands and it got my brain rot thinking, what if the partner of Dammon or Zevlor finds them after getting separated while in that veritable hellscape? They reunite and everything is hunky dory (almost)! The partner sees that they are struggling and sings this song to comfort them after everything that has happened. (here is the link so you don't have to go digging into Youtube!) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXg6QC3ZQAk

Thanks for the request Anon, I really loved listening to the song and it absolutely gives major Shadowlands vibes. I ended up picking Dammon because my brain kind of clutched onto a specific vision I guess? Either way, I hope you enjoy, I loved writing a bit of comfort for my favourite Tiefling blacksmith :)

The fic isn't too heavy on the angst, reader is gender neutral but is not Tav and is a tiefling.

Home to me

All that runs through your head is thoughts of Dammon. Even knowing he must be beside himself with worry, the mere thought of him is comforting.

You find yourself pressed tight against Lakrissa, the other tieflings arms holding you as firmly as she can, your own tail wrapped tight around her ankle. The echoes of your captors footsteps and the dripping of water turn monotonous as the days pass by. It's too hard to keep track, and soon your group stops trying.

The small group of you fall into a steady silence, all finding companions to clutch and memories to cling to, the only relief you can find in your captivity.

After an eternity, all of you are startled back to reality as a familiar hero comes to stand on the other side of the metal bars, a grin on their face as they find almost everyone alive and merely trapped.

Stepping over the guards dead bodies, trekking through underground tunnels, sailing over a murky black lake with wild shadows lurking at the edges, your journey back to safety is almost as treacherous as the same one leading to your unwanted stay in Moonrise towers.

It's only once you all step foot on solid, safe ground that everyone is able to let out a sigh of relief.

Tearful reunions are all around you, Lakrissa and Alfira wrapped as close around each other as they could, Rolan attempting to hold both his siblings despite the way his body shakes with relief. Once again, the only thing on your mind is a certain blacksmith.

It hardly takes any time to find his new open air forge, well away from the dock you first arrived on. It almost feels like you're in a dream, seeing the expanse of his back as he works at his anvil.

You don't mean to sneak up on him, the ringing of his hammer hiding the sound of your steps crunching in the gravel. The sound of your voice calling to him is what makes him pause, hands letting go of everything he holds when he turns to see you. Whatever he's working on clatters to the floor as he sweeps you up and off your feet entirely, just holding you not enough for him.

You can feel the wet tears pooling and running down the skin of your neck, Dammons face nestled between your jaw and shoulder. It's hard to stop your own tears from falling, hands desperately grabbing for a hold on him.

It takes hours for you to calm Dammon, his hand or tail never leaving your skin for fear you might slip from his grasp again. Even after days you can still see how the worry creases his face, how his eyes linger on you when he thinks you don't notice. As the others settle back into their new normal, and plan for the best way to bring death to Ketheric Thorm, you notice how Dammon seems to stay stuck.

Night falls again, and with it you fear Dammon will find another sleepless night. It's clear he can't keep living like this. Your hands pull him down to rest against your chest, trying to calm him with the soft rumble of a purr building in your chest. Tails intertwine as you refocus his attention on you now, safe and happy in his bed.

Calloused fingers trail patterns over your skin as the silence breaks, a soft melody leaving your lips. "Darkness falls across land, sky, and sea. I can hear your call, calling back to me..."

Only once you sing for him, holding him so desperately close to you, do you see his eyes fall closed and feel his breathing even out against your chest.