#however. if i was out there and someone said 'a fire just started nearby'... i would ROCKET out

[crimeronan]

why get stressed about online discourse when you can instead google the current wildfire situation in your area and discover that hikers keep fuckin' walking onto trails that are specifically closed..... Because The Woods Are On Fire.

you will experience the same sharp rise in blood pressure. with none of the queer infighting!

anyway. this warning SHOULD be even less necessary than the one i gave a few weeks back about checking the summit conditions when you hike unfamiliar mountains, BUT:

IF you live in fire country.

please. Please.

do not.... go hiking.

on a trail.

that is actively on fire.

🙏🙏🙏

[bongopowder]

perfect (abbacchio)

⁺ . ✦ .　⁺ jojo's bizzare adventure (abbacchio x reader) ⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

content (18+): nsfw, oh he hates you...

word count: 4.4k

a tune for you: not another song about love (hollywood ending) lol

Moonlight trickled through the open shutters, the alabaster rays of soft light highlighting the room in uniform streaks, interrupted only by the glow of the monitor in front of you. Map after map, tab after tab, click after click, you persist, shuffling through the information as your eyes strain to continue looking at that damned screen. It had been hours – no, days – trying to figure out where this hideout was, and to no avail, a previously unwavering hope staring to dim with every new dead end. The work usually becomes intoxicating when you sink into it, the circuits of your brain firing with dedication and grit, attention usually unwavering. But it was something about tonight; your mind wandered, shuffling through memories like a filing cabinet, searching for some kind of answer.

You never understood why he hated you so much. What had you really done?

It wasn’t as if you were useless, or a delinquent. Undertrained? Perhaps, you could admit that, but your Stand had only awoken a few months prior, after first meeting Bucciarati and Polpo. Since then, you had been nothing short of dedicated. So why?

You rub your eyes, quickly realizing the futility of being caught up on such uncontrollable things. More important was the map in front of you. Of course.

A gentle knock causes your head to snap in the direction of the nearby door, the emptiness of the room creating a hollow echo.

“Come in,” you call curiously, checking your watch. 10:30.

Bucciarati peeks his head around the door with an appreciative and knowing smile, his hand lingering on the door’s handle as he steps into the room.

“Thought we’d check on you,” he starts, now walking towards the desk. “Any progress?”

We?

You tense slightly as you see Abbacchio follow behind Bucciarati, his unreadable eyes scanning the room for a moment before falling on you.

“You should really turn a light on in here… You’re going to kill your eyes,” Bucciarati says, leaning over to snap on the lamp perched on the desk. The unwelcome brightness causes your eyes to flutter shut for a moment before readjusting with a sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you mumble softly with a nod before turning back to the screen. “As for updates… I can tell you where the location isn’t. No progress on where it is, though.”

Bucciarati hums softly, clearly disappointed as his hand moves to his chin in thought. Abbacchio, on the other hand, makes a sound that can only be described as a grumble, before looking away from the screen.

“Not even a general area?” Bucciarati eventually asks.

“Well, depends on how general you’re looking for,” you reply, gesturing to the map. “I’m certain it’s among these streets, however, it’s probably too large to survey. It’s just… a lot of data to go through alone… Sorry.”

“You need another hand?”

“Well,” you tilt your head in thought. “I guess someone else would help… I think alone I can finish in another few days, but it might be quicker if someone else is available.”

“Abbacchio,” Bucciarati speaks, standing up straight and turning to the man beside him. “Help her tomorrow.” Abbacchio scoffs, waving his hand for a moment before replying.

“She said herself she can do it alone,” he retorts, expression hardening with his mumble.

“She also said it would be faster with help. The quicker we know the location, the quicker we get paid. Now,” Bucciarati continues, placing a hand on Abbacchio’s shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. “Both of you can discuss a plan for tomorrow, and then seriously, go to bed. It’s unhealthy to be working so late.”

A light smile tugs at your lips as you nod, grateful to be nearly done for the day. Abbacchio opens his mouth, as if to protest, but quickly closes it and looks away, nodding with a slight huff as Bucciarati leaves, closing the door behind him.

“So,” you clear your throat nervously, shifting the desk chair to the side before turning back to the monitor. “Really what I need is you to read these files, and-”

“How long is this going to take?” Abbacchio interjects in annoyance.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, if you read fast, a couple hours. Just scan the police reports and tell me where the units were in each of them. I’m trying to triangulate the location,” you explain calmly, trying to soothe your beating heart.

“Fine,” he crosses his arms, standing up straight, narrowed eyes darting across your face.

You nod again, standing up from your chair awkwardly as you put the computer to sleep. Quickly organizing the papers sprawled out on the desk, you try to relax your tensed shoulders, secretly hoping he’ll leave, saving you the trouble of having to engage in small talk. And again, with the quick switch of the lamp, the room is left in eerie darkness.

Much to your surprise, he lingers, body rigid with agitation. He clears his throat as you stand up straight, though you want nothing more than to walk out that door, mere feet away from you.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be doing this either,” you nod and speak quietly, trying to be reassuring as if he expected you to say something.

“Don’t. Just, don’t,” he snaps, his voice strained. It was though you could feel his temper slowly running out. You nod, eyes suddenly finding the carpet very interesting as you wait for him to leave the room.

“Why do you have to apologize all the time,” he mumbles, almost under his breath as he steps towards the door.

“What?” you reply, though quickly regret even speaking.

“You always apologize for no reason,” he turns to you, words almost coming out as a growl. “It really pisses me off.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorr-” you pause, swallowing nervously before correcting yourself. “I mean… I’ll avoid it in the future.”

“Why?” his question lingers in the air, and in the darkness, you swear you see him step closer.

“I… I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always angry at me,” you whisper the last few words quietly, as if almost afraid to admit it.

“You don’t know why?” he scoffs, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. “You never react to anything…” his deep voice drops further, each syllable accentuated with irritation.

You take a meek step back, your hands meeting behind your back as you look up at him. Pursing your lips, ridden with anxiety, you can only wonder what exactly you’re doing wrong.

“God, why can’t you just be a normal person? Even now,” he rolls his eyes, stepping closer to you. “You’re too damn respectful even when you shouldn’t be. It’s infuriating…”

“I’m… too respectful?” you tilt your head to the side, confusion peeking through your nervousness. “Should I not be-”

Something in him seemed to snap, your words interrupted as he pushes you back into a nearby wall, firmly holding you in place by your shoulder.

“You’re too quiet and agreeable, all the time,” he spits with anger, his body pressing closer to yours. “It’s as if nothing can make you angry.”

His breathing grows heavier, dark eyes looking down at you as he tightens his grip on your shoulder, his other hand clenching into a fist at his side. You’re trapped, his hips nearly touching yours, your back pressed tight against the wall, the palms of your hands sweating against the paint.

“I…” you begin to studder, the words getting lost in your throat as you look up into his eyes.

He leans forward, his face now inches from yours, etched with anger and irritation, yet somehow… conflicted.

“You never get mad, or raise your voice…” he mutters softly, voice still dripping with frustration.

His other forearm moves beside your head, further restricting your movement and encasing you further against the wall. You can feel his hot breath against your skin, noticing the way his eyes travel across your features and down your body.

You were sure he could hear your heartbeat, the way it raced like a drum, pounding almost painfully at your ribs, the sensation growing more powerful as the seconds passed. His eyes meet yours, his gaze now unwavering. He’s so close. Impossibly close.

“It’s like you’re… perfect. It drives me insane,” he mumbles, voice barely a hushed whisper, the soft brush of air tickling your cheek.

“W- what?” you breathe in shock, eyes searching his face in the darkness. “What do you-”

“Shut up,” he grumbles firmly, his eyes flickering down to your lips in the darkness. His grip on your shoulder was tight, almost painful, as his other and traveled down towards your face.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the mingling sound of deep breaths. The heat of your bodies nearly pressed together was overwhelming, and his hand on your shoulder was like fire through the fabric of your clothes. You search his face desperately, your vision subconsciously drawn to his lips, which softly part.

Suddenly, his expression softened, more than before and only slightly, as if the last of his anger and frustration had begun their transition to something new. Something more dangerous.

Within a second, his hand gently releases your shoulder, fingers lingering on the seam of your shirt before wandering down your arm, his touch light and tantalizing. His other hand now reaches towards your cheek, pushing back a strand of hair and slowly caressing it with his thumb.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispers again, almost desperately now, his vision clouded with urgency and desire.

The words catch in your throat, if there were any words in the first place. You can’t reply, or rather, you don’t know if you want to. Inhaling sharply at his tender touch, you can’t seem to look away from him, your body frozen in an unfamiliar blend of anxiety and yearning.

“You should… You should stop me,” he insists, his hand now moving to your waist, pressing you further against the wall.

But you can’t.

God, you want to. You want to leave and forget this confusing interaction ever happened but the more you look up to his lips the more you feel yourself melting into his touch. He hates you, and you know that, but something about it makes your chest tighten.

It’s conflicting; you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

He felt your breath hitch, and in a second he was kissing you. It wasn’t smooth or gentle, but rather like a crash of waves, his teeth roughly colliding with yours in desperation. And how it was filled with frustration, as if you both resented it but couldn't stop.

His hand found your scalp, pulling your head back and deepening the kiss further as his tongue finds yours. God, you hated it. Hated the way he tasted so sweet, hated the way his hand ran up your body, hated the way you wanted him so badly, as if starved for his touch.

The kiss grows hungrier with every passing second, unbroken even as you both struggle to breathe, mind and body focused only on the sensation of his touch. You feel yourself grow lightheaded, breaking away for only a moment to gasp before his lips crash against yours yet again.

You’re drowning in the sensation of him, stars dancing along the sides of your vision as your hands move to his chest, fingers sliding gently across the opening of his shirt. He groans, the sound swallowed by the proximity of your lips, just as he shifts his grip to your waist, pulling you closer into him.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel your hips press against his, your back instinctively arching and eliciting another desperate sound from him. He whispers your name against your lips, tone laced with agitation and need as he grinds his hips against yours, pushing you further against the wall.

“Abbacchio-” you whimper back, only to be silenced as he plants a wet kiss just below your jawline.

“Just… be quiet,” he grumbles, lips grazing your neck before he rests his forehead against the wall behind you. You hear his breaths coming in uneven, chest heaving up and down almost tumultuously. He sighs, and you feel his grip tightening in your hair, the tug making you wince slightly.

Gently, you run your hand further up his chest, fingers brushing along his collarbone and neck before settling in his hair. You feel him shudder under his touch, his hand on your hip tightening as his fingers dig into your skin.

“S-stop,” he hisses softly, swallowing a groan caught in his throat. “I’m trying to…”

You bite your lip, trying to control your own breathing. He’s right; you shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s far too late for reason and restraint. You continue to run your hand through his hair, coaxing another soft groan from Abbacchio who presses his head further against the wall.

“You… you’re too…” the words seem lost in his mind, his shallow breaths growing more erratic as your palm feels his racing heart, his forehead pulling back from the wall. “Too… perfect.”

With the final husky word, his lips find yours again as his hand tugs your chin up to meet his mouth. It’s different from before: just forceful and passionate, but with an inexplicable affection, conveyed by the way his hand traces along your jawline, thumb softly caressing your cheek as your lips continue to move against his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, tenderly pulling your body closer to his without breaking the kiss. He responds almost immediately, both hands moving to your hips as he moves you into him, grinding himself against you.

Your breath hitches as he continues, shifting his thigh between your legs and granting you more friction. He rocks you back and forth, upper body still pressing you against the wall.

One of his hands moves around your hips, running along the bottom of your thigh as he tugs your leg up, hand fingers resting along the inside of your knee and pulling it to the side of his body. His hips move against yours again, the newfound angle drawing more soft moans from your lips.

Those sounds were his final straw, his other hand immediately grabbing your other thigh and pulling you off the ground and against his body. His lips never leave yours, the kiss growing deeper and more desperate as his patience wears thin, evident by his bulge now pressed against your hips.

He pulls you away from the wall, now urgently stumbling towards the desk which you had left, hands kneading into your skin. Your body feels as though it’s on fire, the feeling of your back being slammed onto the desk barely registering as your senses focus on the friction between your legs as Abbacchio grinds down on you.

He quickly lifts a hand to haphazardly shove aside the assortment of office supplies and technology hindering your ability lie flat, the monitor in particular making a crashing sound as it hits the wooden floor. He pulls you by the front of your shirt back up to him, your mouth smashing against his so hard and desperately you swear it’ll leave a bruise tomorrow.

His forearm rests gently on the desk beside your head as he situates his body between your legs again, tugging you down so your hips are flush with his own. He lets out a soft moan as you wrap your legs around him, the feeling of his muscles tensing on top of you leaving a shiver running down your spine.

“Off, now,” Abbacchio’s deep voice commands with fervor, already beginning to tug at your shirt. You barely have time to lift your arms as he strips it off of you, tossing it to the side with surprising forcefulness.

Without wasting a second, his hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast and making your breath catch in your throat. He uses his other hand to tilt your head back against the desk, now nipping at the sensitive skin below your jaw.

Your body is taught with desire, the feeling of his hand beginning to press and squeeze your skin only heightening the sensation. Your back arches as you feel his hot breath against your neck, his free hand moving behind you to unclip your bra.

As it falls to the side, he pulls back for the first time, eyes roaming across your body with appreciation and an undertone of frustration. His chest heaves as a soft sound catches in his throat, eyes eventually trailing up to meet yours in the moonlight, pupils dilated with hunger.

“Perfect,” he grumbles under his breath, the flattering word spoken with a hint of vexation. You open your mouth to speak but are silenced by the feeling of him unzipping your pants, already pulling them off of you, with your underwear quickly following behind.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, heightened by the feeling of him spreading your legs once again. He settles between them, leaning over you with a forearm beside your head, his hand beginning to stroke the hair along your scalp.

His other hand drifts downwards, touch gentle and light as he teases his way along your sternum and stomach. You swallow in anticipation, eyes looking up at his as you bite your lip, silently praying that he can see how badly you need him without having spoken a word.

His gaze grows hazy, his eyes shutting for a brief moment as if controlling himself, before his fingers finally travel lower, right where you want them.

He lets out a soft gasp as he feels you, before mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. As he begins to move his fingers against you, you find your head digging further back against the hard wood of the desk, your hand coming up to grip his shoulder.

Softly, he slips a finger into you, his knuckles curling gently to find the right spot. You gasp soft and squirm under him, your fingers digging more tightly into him. His other hand quickly finds its way to your chin, his elbow still resting on the table as he jerks your head back to face him, his eyes staring deep into yours.

“You’re going to look at me,” he whispers demandingly before his finger begins to move in and out of you, his thumb shifting to press against your clit.

You moan softly, eyes squeezing shut as you shiver in pleasure; his grip on your chin tightens as his fingers pause yet again.

“I said, look at me,” he hisses, his breath tickling your lips. You slowly open your eyes again, meeting his gaze as your body shivers in returned anticipation.

He continues his ministrations, fingers now moving quicker and deeper inside of you as you force your eyes to remain open, studying his features: the slight parting of his lips, his darkened eyes, the flush on his pale cheeks.

It’s now that you can really see the effect you’ve had on him, even in the low light. His eyes are half lidded, desperate and needy but somehow still frustrated. The soft purple of his lipstick is nearly gone from his lip, the edges smeared messily like watercolors.

You gasp as he pulls his fingers out of you, trailing up your folds before resting on your lower stomach. The emptiness almost hurts, the aching in your body returning as you crave more of his touch.

His lips quirk into a smirk, the expression almost feeling belittling as you lie beneath him, your naked form contrasting his fully clothed one.

“Please,” you whimper softly, biting your cheek in embarrassment as the words leave your mouth.

He scoffs slightly, pushing off of you as the smug expression remains plastered across his face. You sit up, watching as he removes his belt, the sound of metal hitting the floor almost electrifying, the anticipation nearly drawing a sound from your lips.

With an almost evil tantalization, he begins to strip, removing each piece of clothing slowly and with intent, eyes never leaving yours. He watches carefully as you study him, watching as his toned muscles contract as he moves, traveling down just in time to watch him tug at his own boxers.

His demeanor is different now, the anger and desperation from before morphing into a possessive dominance. The boxers drop to the floor, pooling at his ankles and leaving him completely exposed to your wandering eyes.

His weight is on you again within a mere second, his bare skin pressing against yours, the heat of your bodies mingling as he captures your lips into another kiss. You moan softly, indescribably desperate for him as you wrap your legs around his hips again, tugging him closer against you.

Sounds of pleasure fill the small room as he rubs against you, grinding his hips against yours, a final tease before the main show. Your pleading whimper is followed by a breathless beg, the words swallowed as he continues to kiss you with hunger.

He finally positions himself, his hand moving to your hip as he holds your body in place, lips not breaking apart from yours. Gasping against your mouth, his forehead presses against you as he finally slides into you in a single, fluid motion.

You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, the sensation growing more intense as he begins to move against you, the weight and motion seemingly pushing you further into the desk. Unable to stifle the string of moans that fall from your lips, your hand finds the back of his head, gripping desperately into his hair as your breath caresses his face.

“F-fuck… fuck you,” he whispers, voice cracking in passion as his fingers tighten around your hip, sinking further into your skin. He continues to thrust into you with the smoldering passion of pent-up frustration, movements desperate and disheveled but leaving you a crumbling mess beneath him. It’s electrifying, the feeling of his skin on yours, the sensations of his hands along your body, desperately grasping at you as if he can’t control himself.

He shifts his hand from your hip, running it down to your thigh before hoisting your leg up, hooking your knee around his shoulder. Without giving you a second to adjust, he thrusts harder into you, the new angle sending your head lulling back into the wood, your hair tangling as you squirm and gasp.

Your hands grip desperately at the desk, fingers finding a series of files and feeling them crumple under your forceful touch.

As one of his hands rests on your thigh, keeping your leg held over him, the other wanders across your stomach and up to your chest, giving your breast a squeeze without disrupting the erratic motion of his hips. He groans your name softly, over and over, the words spilling out like a familiar stream, as if second nature.

You feel the pleasure beginning to culminate, the heat building as his hips continue to snap rhythmically forward.

“Don’t… don’t you dare… not yet,” Abbacchio commands through shallow breaths, his pace never faltering.

“I’m- I can’t… I can’t,” you gasp softly, body taught with tension already as you balance on the edge of release, trying desperately to hold on.

He pulls out of you, not even giving you enough time to gasp as he grabs you by the waist, flipping you over on the desk. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your chest hit the wood and your feet hit the floor, your hands instinctively reaching out again, desperate to hold onto something.

A quiet grumble of need fills your ears, paired with the sensation of fingers tracing along your spine, traveling down before gripping your hips.

You hear a deep sigh before feeling the sensation of him slipping inside you again, your trembled moan filling the silence of the room. He wastes no time, already beginning to move again, arguably with more force than before.  

He presses his palm down into your back arching your back further and causing a string of curses to leave his lips. Your eyes screw shut and your fingers grip the edge of the desk, unable to focus on anything other than the heat continuing to build in your body, seemingly freezing your other senses.

You can’t take it anymore; the sounds of his groans, only growing louder, in combination with the sensation of his hand now grazing across your body, nearly sends you over the edge.

Another gasp catches in your throat as his hand slips under your body again, his finger slipping between your folds as his hips continue to snap against you. His touch is firm and slightly careless, clearly inebriated by pleasure.

“You… you’d better…” Abbacchio’s mumbling grows more desperate and incoherent with every passing second, his pace speeding up as his finger continues to move against you.

His name rolls of your tongue, becoming louder and more husky as you reach your climax, your body shuttering softly against the desk and seemingly directing him through his release as well. His hips slow, body almost collapsing on top of yours, his chest now pressed against your back and leaving you pinned against the desk.

He sighs softly, head almost nuzzling into your hair as his hand finds the side of your waist, caressing it gently as he continues to lie on top of you. You hear his breaths subsiding, the rising and falling of his chest against you growing less erratic and more peaceful.

You swallow, blinking as you catch your breath and begin to relax against the wood, the weight of his body on yours offering a strange sense of contentment. His free hand glides up your arm, fingers tracing along your skin before reaching your hand. He slides his palm up your wrist, eventually intertwining his fingers with your own before rubbing tender circles along your skin with his thumb.

You’d hate to break the silence. And what could you even say?

Perhaps it is better to appreciate the moment for what it is, with the cold moonlight now a dim flickering through the shutters, his warm breath against your neck, a feeling of drowsiness tugging at your serene consciousness. Whatever feeling of frustration, pent up feelings of lust and passion that were feeling before, seemed to melt away with the night. This current feeling, the lingering intensity of emotion and sensation, alongside the tranquility and silence of your surroundings, could only be described by one whispered, frustrating, and even desperate word.

Perfect.

[blueboybot]

In Your Cold Dead Arms

I don't care! I need to show yall one of my weird pairs.

Twigs and dry leaves snapped under feet that were in a hurry, wind blowing violently enough to feel as though it was one more step from uprooting trees and flinging them carelessly about with its strong might. Rain droplets fell from the dark and cloudy sky, rapid rainfall increasing with every droplet that hit skin and cloth, each one harsher than the other.

Some might find struggle with this kind of weather condition but for him it was way nicer than dealing with someone who could manipulate the weather at will. Luckily for him it was simply an act of nature, no powerful foe was attacking him and he could appreciate that once he got out of said rain.

As he ran his eyes continued to look out for shelter, something he could only hope to find in an area like this. More trees and plants overtook his vision, his temper starting to flare as rain fell even harder, almost feeling as if it were lashing him. Thunder boomed from above and lightening soon followed after, clouds lit up and illuminated the area for a few seconds.

On que, lightening striked next to a tree he was close to making him instinctively dodge out of the way. The tree took major damage, its base split in two and some of its green leaves burnt black. Fire appeared for a quick second before immediately being quelched by the rain. However with the destruction of the tree he was able to see a path, and further in the distance some kind of structure.

With the discovery of shelter he headed straight for the building, his legs picking up speed with the promise of soon being out of rain. Getting closer he saw that the structure was a mansion, an abandoned mansion at that. Not one to be picky he pushed open the gates with overgrown vines, finding them unlocked and bolted straight towards the front door, ready to use his body to force it open only to find out it was also unlocked and opened when his hand pushed on it.

Entering the mansion his first red flag came when he laid his eyes on the interior of the place. It was much nicer on the inside than the outside, the floors were clean and shiny, a chandelier lit up with flames hung high from the ceiling, red carpet and wooden decorations greeted him from where he could see them. Overall, the mansion gave off the vibes that it was well kept and that meant he may have just broke into someone's home.

"HELLO, IS ANYONE HERE?"

He expected someone to come rushing out of a door, cursing him or attacking him for entering their home as an unwated guest but he got nothing.

"Please tell me I didn't walk into some kind of haunted house." He mumbled.

Arsenal stood near the entrance door, wiping his boots on the mat and trying to dry himself with the warmth of a nearby candle. He tried to contact the team but something was blocking his signal, so for now he was stuck here until the rain stopped, but judging from the sounds outside that may take a while. He himself think back to how he got into this situation in the first place.

They were flying in the bioship when they got attacked, while trying to manuver through the air the ship got hit and plunged into the sea. He remembered exiting the bioship to look at the damage, only to be swept away by a current that appeared out of nowhere. He ended up on a beach and tried to contact the others but his communicator didn't work. Leaving the beach to explore the rest of the island storm coulds appeared, then it started raining so he ran to find shelter. Now, he was here in mansion that may or may not be haunted.

With a hesitant first step he continued to explore the mansion, going up the long steps that lead to the second floor. Turning left he was met with a hallway, dark brown with a few candles lighting up the way from which they were positioned from each door. Peaking inside, he saw a room with the same dark brown wood, but this time there were elegant designs carved into some of the walls, soft looking chairs and a rug lay in the center surrounded by bookshelves on the wall, a window showcasing the rainy outside world.

The sound of something falling against the floor in another room caught his attention. He whipped out his bow and readied an arrow, cautiously, he drew nearer toward the sound, stopping infront of the third room on the right that was slightly open. Slowly, he pushed open the door back, coming to halt when he saw nothing but furniture covered in white sheets.

He didn't lower his bow though, and his theory of something being in here was proven correct when movement came from a sheet close to the window. Arsenal stepped closer, arrow aimed directly at what he assumed was its head, whatever is under there could be dangerous for all he knows and he wasn't taking anymore chances. He wasn't about to lose another arm or any other limbs for that matter.

The rustling stopped and the sheet pulled back, revealing the face of someone that was definitely close in age to him. Hair so dark as if it was trying to mimic the void of space looked wet, strands clinging to their forehead. Freckles dusted over their cheeks and nose like they were carefully placed by the gentlest of hands. Blue eyes stared at the bow and then him, looking at him with a hint of curiousity only to turn to fear a second later at remembering that there was a weapon very close to their face.

Those blue eyes intrigued the red head. They were unlike any blue he had seen before, mesmerizing in a way, tempting him into their hypnotic trance. Looking away was becoming more of a challenge the longer he continued seeing into something so enchanting. They reminded him of the ice and a burning blue star. So out of this world that he swore his body was beginning to tingle as those eyes gaze back into him. He was locked in a view so breathtaking that the word did little justice to describe how he felt as he stared.

His trance was broken when the teen scrambled away from him, hitting hard against the underwall of the window, and likely hurting his back if the way he winced was anything to go by. The other boy quickly got up an moved to side, hitting his head into a piece of covered furniture that reverberated with a clang sound.

Aresenal winced, deciding he needed to step in and do something before the teen knocked himself out while trying and failing to get away from him.

"Easy easy!" He put away his bow and arrow, looking at the boy on the floor with his hands up to come across less dangerous "I'm not going to hurt you, I was just curious as to why I heard a noise coming from this room."

The teen looked at him with those blue eyes, accessing him to see if he was lying. He must of taken a gamble and decided to somewhat believe he meant no harm because the boy rose to his feet once again, looking at him with slight caution now.

"Do you live here?"

"No, I was trying to escape the rain and came across this abandoned mansion." He replied, looking away from Roy and opting to stare at the carpet.

"Got a shy one." Roy thought looking over the boy and his body language.

His clothes looked a little too big for him. A white t-shirt with short red sleeves and an oval pattern in the middle, black cargo pants, and red shoes with white lacing. There was also a metalic looking wristband the boy wore on his left hand. Overall, Arsenal took him for a pretty boy who wasn't used to these sorts of situations, one who doesn't do much except for sit in quiet with the popular kids and have everything handed to him without much of a resistance from other teachers or students.

"So do you have a name or do I just call you boy?" Roy asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"I'm not a child!"

Oh he was going to have fun with this one.

Roy's face split into a grin as he waited for the boy to reply. The other teen rolled his eyes at him.

"My name is Danny." Danny looked him up and down, "Did you just come from a cosplay party or something?"

He raised an eyebrow, "I'm Arsenal!"

This time Danny raised an eyebrow at him.

"Protégé of Green Arrow."

The boy's face remained the same as Roy's changed.

"Part of the Young Justice team."

Still no look of recognition.

"The Justice League."

"I literally don't have a clue on what any of those are, is it like some kind of sports team?"

"How do you not know the Justice League?"

"I'm from a small town, a lot of outside media doesn't get through to us." The boy mumbled something with a hint of annoyance at the end.

Roy groaned in frustration, putting his hands up to his masked face. He silently wondered if he was going to have to tell pretty boy here about the existance of aliens and meta-humans.

"Woah!" He heard the boy exclaim, feet that barely made a sound ran up to him. "Cool arm!" Roy spread his arms apart from his face to look at him, seeing that the boy's focus was entirely on his prosthetic.

"What kind of lights did you buy for this?"

" Lights? What no— This is how it is." He growled out the last part, remembering what Lex did still left a sour taste in his mouth.

"No. Way!" Danny's eyes seemed to sparkle with awe. "Can I touch it, please?"

Roy let the other teen poke at his arm, watching as fascination filled those blue eyes. The only other person that showed this much interest in his arm was Bart and the little menace would always ask to look at it or try to wrestle him, resulting in him always winning because there was no chance of him losing to someone with those kind of arms.

"This is amazing, can you wiggle your fingers for me?" Roy did just that and watched as a smile etched onto the boy's face.

"INCREDIBLE! The black metal, the desgin, everything was made to fit you. But, I bet I could do a way better job."

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow.

"My parents are inventors and scientist, I obviously picked up a thing or two from being around their equipment for so long." Danny placed his two hands on the prosthetic, providing Roy with the knowledge that he was two inches taller than Danny.

The vigilante catalogued the information given to him for later. Even if Danny meant him no harm that didn't mean he trusted him right away, sue him, but the other's parents being scientist that built enough inventions for Danny to alledgedly make his own made him wary.

"You're not a bad cosplayer." Danny said, leaning his head against the metalic arm while looking at Roy.

Those too blue eyes pierced his soul. Danny had to be a meta or alien of some kind, there was no other explanation for his eyes.

"It's not a cos—"

*SCREECH*

An unholy noise screamed out, sounding like a high pitched call and simultaneously a warning from whatever creature it came from.

Roy quickly grabbed Danny by the waist and pushed the boy behind him, shielding him as he armed himself once again.

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 14 (FINAL)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

The Clan searches for Bracken, but they don't find her. However, Branchpaw manages to find traces of her smell, and brings back evidence of it to Riftpaw for confirmation of her identity. However, she overhears something from the medicine den that was likely meant to be said in confidence...

(Branchpaw, apprentice, female, 9 moons. Ambitious.)

---

Branchpaw was gonna do it. She was going to find whoever 'Bracken' was if it was the last thing she'd ever do. Ever since she learned that Riftpaw was separated from his sibling, Branchpaw had resolved to find them and reunite them. If she was separated from Perchpaw, she'd want someone to do the same for her. So the fact that days went by and patrols couldn't find anything made her feel more and more angry.

If they thought she was stupid, she wasn't. She knew many of the adults on patrol were pessimistic and probably thought some stupid tendril or Woodcrawler got them, or worse, and didn't have any hope that Bracken was still alive. They would always say platitudes and kindly tell her, "nothing around the border this time, sorry Branchpaw." Yeah right, they didn't even try. And she KNEW they weren't trying, because she had found something and by StarClan or whoever the hell was out there, she felt vindicated.

"Look, look! See, I told you! Around these herbs! Cat! A she-cat! I TOLD you she's around here - "

"Wait," Tree interrupted Branchpaw firmly and smelled the herb. They raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Two cats, actually. One of them is a molly, but I'm not sure about the other one."

"I smell that as well," Iciclepool noted with a flick of her tail. Her eyes flickered with cautious hope. "This is marigold. Windfur did say the young cat was surprisingly knowledgeable with herbs. Maybe she's with someone?"

"Then let's follow the trail!" Branchpaw bounced eagerly, tail flicking. Tree chuckled and they batted lightly at Branchpaw's head.

"Slow down, Fleetfoot. I don't think we'll get very far. The scent seems to trail towards the river."

Branchpaw looked at the border, and saw the trickling river muddying the scent. There were no visible paw prints on the other side - the trail must've been a day or so old. She felt the enthusiasm blow out of her like a flattened mushroom cap. She groaned in exasperation and flopped on the ground in wound-up fatigue.

"Come oooooon," Branchpaw whined.

"We don't even know if this is the cat we're looking for, Branchpaw," Iciclepool pointed out gently. There was a slight spark in her eyes as she said this, as though she had found a teaching moment. "The cats that were here may not be nearby now. But there is a way to find out if we found the right cats."

Tree seemed to have caught on to what Iciclepool was doing, and their whiskers twitched, impressed. Branchpaw glanced back and forth between the deputy and her mentor.

"Uh…can you tell me?"

"Nope, you're still technically in training," Tree chuckled. "This was a tracking session, remember?"

"Ugh, fine, hold on," Branchpaw rolled back onto her feet and stood up, the neurons in her brain firing as she tried to put two and two together with great difficulty. Her ears folded back in frustration. "Okay, so, the scent is tied around the herb. But the herb also has a scent. So…"

After a long moment of silence, Tree decided to take pity on their apprentice. "Well, it's not exactly on the herb, is it?"

The epiphany shot through Branchpaw like a lightning bolt. Her pupils dilated as she whipped her gaze to the nearby oak tree, and then nearly tackled a clump of moss growing on it. She then brought it back and started padding it around the ground to try and grab the scent.

Iciclepool let out a mrrow of amusement. "Slow down Branchpaw, hold on, you can just grab the leaf litter on the floor near the plant instead."

Branchpaw promptly tossed aside the moss and started gathering the leaf litter in her mouth. Branchpaw felt good about herself when the two cats mrrowed with laughter and guided her to carrying the leaf litter properly, and dig up the marigold to give to Windfur and Shiverstep later.

She was gonna do it. She was gonna help find Bracken, and presenting this smell to Riftpaw to confirm if they'd found her scent was one step closer to that goal. She suppressed the thudding in her heart at the idea that maybe they hadn't found Bracken's scent. It had to be. It just had to be her.

Branchpaw eagerly padded her way towards the medicine den, but her ears caught on something that made her stop in her tracks.

"No fair."

"Hmm?"

"No…fair," Perchpaw's muffled, jaw-locked voice repeated.

Branchpaw froze. She quietly moved aside from the den's entrance and ducked under the nearby ferns. She put down the leaflitter and pretended to be sorting the marigold from it.

Her ears swiveled trying to hear.

"Hmm? What is?" Riftpaw asked, equally muffled.

"This. Stupid brace," Perchpaw hissed. "Hate it."

"It helps," Riftpaw said.

"I know," Perchpaw groaned. Branchpaw heard Perchpaw's tail thrash on the floor. "But it's tight. And I feel it press against my skin. And my tongue won't sit right. Teeth stab tongue. It's just…"

Branchpaw's fur bristled. She stopped her fake sorting. She expected Riftpaw to say something, but he stayed quiet. Finally, Perchpaw finished her thought.

"It feels wrong."

Branchpaw felt her heart sink deeply in her chest. She thinks she heard Riftpaw say something, but his voice was too quiet and muffled.

Branchpaw felt a sting in her heart.

Perchpaw was quiet ever since her injury. She said a few sentences here and here. She chuckled politely, offered thanks, every small thing she could. Branchpaw didn't push her sister into talking to her about what happened - she figured that she didn't want to talk about it. But at least, she hoped that her littermate would trust her enough with her feelings.

Was it Riftpaw? She felt foreign envy for the cat. She thought it was jealousy, but her mom told her the difference between jealousy and envy recently. She didn't want to hurt the tom, nor did she feel like Perchpaw should only be talking to her. She was quite happy to have a new cat around their age to talk to! But ever since Riftpaw first woke up, it seemed pretty obvious that he and Perchpaw found comfort in the fact that they shared the same injury and were going to be forced to go through the healing process together. Branchpaw didn't want to be injured like them - not in a million years - but she felt like her sister would be more willing to open up to her if she were…well, if she were Riftpaw.

But why? You hardly know the cat. He's just some tom, Branchpaw thought in frustration. She paused and felt her heart tighten as she heard a reassuring purr coming from the medicine den.

"I'm sorry, Perchpaw. I really am."

Branchpaw sighed. Man, toms had nicer purrs than mollies. Barleywave and Windfur were always nice to listen to when they were relaxed or trying to calm someone. She wished she could have a voice like them.

…That wasn't weird, right?

Branchpaw paused. For some reason, her face turned hot. She blinked quickly. Then scowled. Why was she giving a mouse's tail about this right now? Her sister was in pain, and here she was, musing about fox-dunged purr octaves -

Adrenaline pushed her to her feet. She picked up the leaf litter from the floor and meowed repeatedly and loudly as she started padding towards the medicine den.

"Riftpaw, Riftpaw, Riftpaw," she meowed loudly. She thought she heard quick rummaging from Perchpaw as she burst through the fern curtain with wide eyes. "RIFTPAW, I have a thing," she exclaimed with a mouthful of leaves.

Perchpaw and Riftpaw looked at Branchpaw with surprise. Riftpaw's hazel eyes softened quickly, but Perchpaw tensed, her tail tucked close to her.

"What is it?"

Branchpaw promptly dropped the leaves near his head. "Do you recognize this smell?"

Riftpaw carefully brought his nose to the leaves. After a few moments, his eyes widened and his fur bristled.

"That's her! That's - ow, ow, ow," Riftpaw whined as he moved his mouth a bit too wide, pressing his chin on the moss around his bedding and pressing his paw on his neck.

Perchpaw perked up in worry, and Branchpaw winced. "Sorry! Tree, Iciclepool and I found this near a marigold patch. I thought it could be Bracken. I'm really glad that it is!"

Riftpaw nursed the pain in his jaw for a little while longer. When he next opened his eyes, a flicker of hope rested in them.

"She's okay. She's okay," he whined. "She's alive. Thank spirits that be, she's alive."

"We'll track her down, we swear," Branchpaw insisted. Her tail flicked with anticipation. She was going to help find Riftpaw's sister. The spotted molly glanced at her sister, hoping to meet the same look of excitement, only for her tail to lower when Perchpaw avoided her gaze.

Branchpaw blinked as she approached her. "Right, Perchpaw?"

Perchpaw nodded.

"Uh, right, hurts to talk," Branchpaw chuckled. She swallowed down the hurt in her chest. "I'll, uh, tell Redstar what we found! Tell Windfur and Shiverstep I said hi, if they come back," Branchpaw declared before swiftly leaving again, not waiting for either of them to answer.

Truth is, she didn't know what to say.

Knowing that Perchpaw didn't want to tell her how she felt did hurt.

She knew that she didn't have to. She didn't want to talk about the Fake Cat either, and cats kept pestering her about it. She didn't want to be another one of those cats.

She just wished she could let her sister know that she thought she was pretty no matter how she felt about herself. And she felt like she wasn't allowed to.

…Riftpaw better treat her sister right, oh so help her StarClan.

****

"Bracken," Riftpaw said quietly as he pressed his nose into the pile of leaves. The moment he smelled his littermate, it was like all his walls crumbled down.

Perchpaw didn't understand it.

From the moment Riftpaw woke up, he was in good spirits. She didn't understand that either. His jaw was broken and he was stuck with a cast, just like her, and could barely eat anything - which didn't help how skinny he was. For the first few days, she was shy and polite - she had never met an injured outsider before, and thought that he'd be wary of the Clan. Instead, he spent several minutes staring at everything in the camp - the walls, the cooking fire, the weaved branches that created the ceilings of the warriors and apprentice dens. He had asked Windfur timidly if the Clan had seen a dark grey tabby she-cat with brown eyes. Perchpaw was surprised when Windfur said yes, and he wasn't lying about it. 

And he seemed optimistic. Riftpaw was happy - as much as a cat could be in his situation. She wanted to envy his positivity - but she couldn't. It rubbed off on her too. He joked about his condition, changing his story about how he got his injury every time someone asked. He dramatically fell over with a loud whine when Deerkit very lightly bumped into him once, and responded to every inquiry about how he felt with some variation of "I've never been better," with each iteration getting progressively more dramatic. It brought Perchpaw a small amount of comfort - made her feel like he knew how to handle these things, and maybe he could give her advice.

She didn't expect his attitude to change almost immediately.

She looked away from him uncomfortably. She didn't want to interrupt him or say the wrong thing. What could she say?

Riftpaw wallowed in his grief quietly. It went for long enough that Perchpaw felt obligated to at least say something.

"...I hope we find her."

Riftpaw opened his hazel eyes, tinged in sorrow. "I hope so," he mumbled. He pulled away from the leaf litter, then looked at Perchpaw. "M' sorry," he added.

"S'okay," Perchpaw mumbled.

Riftpaw's silence was heavy. His gaze was intense, clouded with memory. Finally, he spoke, his voice lisped and suppressed. "You have a good sister. She cares about you. She…she would understand how you feel more than anyone." He swallowed. His tone was distant. "S-So…tell her you love her. Okay? Just…remember to do that. Next time you see her."

Perchpaw felt her muscles tense. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

The two young cats looked at each other steadily.

Perchpaw couldn't help but trace her eyes over his injury.

The brace covered most of it. But she saw the long scarring of the gash that stopped underneath his chin. Part of his nose had a slit that didn't heal correctly. Part of his muzzle had patches of hair either torn or scratched off. She doesn't know.

Maybe with a few moons of time, he'd look fine. As though nothing happened.

Perchpaw was too afraid to know what she looked like. She avoided camp after it rained. She didn't want to see herself. She didn't want to see what her sister or mother saw. She didn't want to know. She couldn't know.

"Hey…you okay?" Riftpaw asked quietly. He must've noticed her intensity.

Perchpaw stared at him for a moment. She prepared to hum in affirmation. Her throat seized.

Come on. Come on. You're okay. You're fine, she mentally repeated to herself.

She still couldn't say anything.

Riftpaw's words bounced back into her head.

She would understand how you feel better than anyone.

No.

Perchpaw felt like she was ruined. Touched by the woods and permanently haunted by its presence. She still had nightmares. She couldn't move in them. A black shadow would approach her. Sometimes other cats sat and watched.

It contorted and bent out of shape before vanishing into the dark.

While her heart threatened to retch out of her throat, the roots would wrap around her muzzle. They would split, and slither around her teeth, her nose, her eyes -

She would wake up terrified of sleeping again.

Branchpaw couldn't know how that feels. She didn't want Branchpaw to ever know how this felt. She couldn't inflict this on her. Couldn't tell her how horrible and irreversibly corrupted she felt every waking moment. She was so, so afraid of the flailing shadow. She feared it more than she feared any Woodcrawler or Tendril.

She doesn't remember what happened next. She must've started crying. She must've, because Riftpaw had gotten up and dragged his nest to lie down next to her. He started purring in reassurance and comfort.

"I don't want her to understand," Perchpaw choked on her words, her body physically seized and she felt her throat retching. Her brace snapped and she felt pain surge through her jaw. It didn't hurt as much as the fear in her chest. "I'm all wrong. It hurt so much." Perchpaw suppressed a blubbering wail. She felt Riftpaw gently press against the top of her head, forcing her to rest on the soft moss and jaw rest that Olive and Branchpaw made for her. She hiccuped and reduced her cry to a pitiful whine.

She just wanted to help. And now she was like this.

She was so scared every time her sister said she wanted to help.

She prayed for StarClan to spare her sibling. She was already gone. But dear StarClan, please, spare her littermate.

---

<PREVIOUS | NEXT>

[strawb3rryg2l]

The Temp, Part 3

Characters: Robert Reynolds x (Female) Reader.

Summary: Mel trains a new temp - Y/N. Y/N just wants a normal life, one where she can forget her past as a spy and start anew. When she meets The Thunderbolts, she can't help but notice Robert Reynolds... or Bob, as everyone calls him. He's quiet, shy, and seemingly holding a lot inside. She almost feels the same, even if she doesn't know him personally. They find a likeness in one another and grow closer.

Warnings: reader is an ex-spy, fighting, bleeding, reader gets injured, the void appears, spoilers for the movie (Let me know if there any more warnings I should put).

Word Count: 1753

Note from the author: This is my work and not only will it be posted on this account (@Strawb3rryg2l) . It will also be posted to my account of Archivesofourown (@ Strawb3rrygal). I will link it here once it is uploaded. This is a work in progress, and my first ever fanfiction so please be kind. This movie brought back my love for Marvel, and I'm super excited about this series I will be writing. This is my first attempt of a slow-burn, friends to lovers, and smut (mueheh). So without further ado... Happy reading!

Post Note from the author: Ooooh I know it's a slowwwww burn, but we are almost getting there.... I promise!!!

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

“Y/N,” someone said tentatively.

Her eyelids scraped open like peeling bark.

Too bright.

The med bay lights seared her eyes, sterile fluorescence washing over her like judgment. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, and her shoulder felt like someone had replaced the joint with fire and nerve endings.

She squinted, trying to orient herself. The room was still. Monitors hummed in the background, soft and patient.

She sat up slowly, wincing at the bandage tugging against her skin. Her shoulder was wrapped tight, gauze soaked faintly with a spot of dried blood. It hurt like hell.

The nurse hovered nearby, tablet in hand, giving her that tight-lipped expression that meant you’re not supposed to be sitting up yet, but I won’t fight you on it. Her voice was soft as she checked vitals, offered water, and said something about pain meds. Y/N only half-heard her. She wasn’t entirely back in her body yet.

Then the door hissed open.

Boots clicked against the floor.

Yelena entered first, stone-faced and impassive, her platinum bob swinging with each step. Behind her came Mel.

Back from Italy. Oddly quick.

She still wore her designer coat, black wool with fur at the collar, the shoulders dusted faintly with snow like she’d walked straight out of a Bond film and into this moment. Her makeup was pristine. Her anger, barely masked.

“You lied,” Mel snapped. The words landed like a slap. She tossed her bag onto a chair like it had offended her.

Y/N blinked. “Nice to see you, too.”

Mel’s eyes flared. “You said you had administrative experience.”

“I do.”

“You also took out two mercs with a stick and a knife.”

Yelena crossed her arms, expression unreadable but vaguely impressed. “Most assistants don’t carry blades in their boots.”

Y/N shrugged immediately regretting it. Pain jolted down her side like lightning and she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

The nurse made an exasperated noise and hovered with another dose of painkillers, but Y/N waved her off. “Most employers,” she muttered, “don’t have kill squads breaking in during lunch hour.”

That earned her a twitch of Yelena’s mouth. Possibly the closest thing to a smile.

Mel, however, was not amused.

She paced, the heels of her boots tapping a frustrated rhythm against the tile. Her eyes flicked toward the heart monitor, the bruises blooming across Y/N’s collarbone, the slash in the fabric of her hospital gown. Something in her gaze shifted not worry, not quite, but calculation.

“You’re not who you said you were,” Mel said finally.

“I’m not,” Y/N replied, too tired to lie.

“Who do you work for, really?”

“I don’t work for anybody,” she said. “Not anymore.”

That stopped Mel. Just for a second. A flicker of something like doubt danced in her eyes before it vanished beneath a practiced glare.

Yelena watched her quietly from the corner, arms still crossed. Not suspicious, just curious. Like she was trying to decide what Y/N was made of.

“I came here to disappear,” Y/N continued. “This job paid well enough to keep me afloat. I didn’t lie about that.”

Mel tilted her head. Her coat slipped from one shoulder like she was about to make a dramatic exit but didn’t.

Y/N’s brain throbbed with another question, intrusive and sharp How did she get here this fast? Last she’d heard, Mel had been in Italy, a full twelve hours ago. Even with a private jet, that was... too fast.

Her stomach turned slightly. She filed it away.

Mel turned to Yelena, something unspoken passing between them. Then back to Y/N.

“Valentina’s going to want an explanation.”

“She can have one,” Y/N said calmly. “But she won’t get anything I haven’t already told you.”

Another pause. It stretched long enough for the monitor to beep four times.

Then, finally, Yelena spoke.

“You’re not the only one with a messy past,” she said. Her voice was even, but there was weight behind it. Something remembered. “Just don’t pretend to be someone else when people start caring.”

The words landed in Y/N’s chest like a dart.

When people start caring.

She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Yelena pushed off the wall and walked out, not waiting for Mel. Just a nod in Y/N’s direction as she went. A strange kind of respect, maybe. Or a warning.

Mel stayed behind for a moment longer. Her posture perfect. She gave Y/N one last look, unreadable. Then she turned and followed Yelena out, heels echoing all the way down the hall.

Silence settled in.

Y/N slumped back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling.

The pain meds were finally kicking in, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. Her shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat, a dull reminder of how close things had come to going very, very wrong. She knew one thing for sure though, she didn’t trust Mel.

———————————————————————————————————————————

A few hours later, the lights were dimmed in the med bay, casting long shadows across the walls and the machinery. Y/N sat on the hospital bed, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes fixed on the TV that wasn’t on. The worst of the bleeding stopped, she didn’t feel any pain, but her mind refused to settle.

When the door opened, she didn’t move. Bob stepped inside without a word. He looked… tired. Not just physically though there were shadows beneath his eyes and a stiffness in his movements. He looked worn thin in a way that made her chest tighten.

Relief hit her harder than she expected. He was okay.

She blinked and hated that the first thing she wanted to ask was how he was doing. She bit it back. Bob stopped a few feet from her bed. He didn’t say anything right away, just held out a small white paper bag like it was a peace offering.

She took it slowly, fingertips brushing his for a heartbeat.

She peeked inside and saw a single almond croissant. Her throat tightened.

She hadn’t told him, not out loud. But it was the one thing she always grabbed on her breaks, when she thought no one was paying attention. Something about the gesture — thoughtful—struck deeper than she expected. It warmed something inside her. A part of herself she thought she’d long since hidden too well to be seen.

“Thanks,” she said, voice low, almost shy.

Bob gave a small nod, then eased into the chair beside her bed, his posture guarded but not closed off. He didn’t press or crowd her. Just sat there, hands loosely clasped, staring at the floor like maybe it would tell him what to say.

Y/N studied him from the corner of her eye. His shoulders were tense, jaw clenched, like he was holding too much back. She wondered how much it cost him to stay in control. To come back from what he'd become earlier.

He was quiet, but his presence filled the room.

“I thought I’d be the one asking how you are,” she said finally. “But now that you’re here…”

She trailed off, unsure. She wanted to ask anyway. She wanted to hear him say he was fine, even if it was a lie.

Instead, she glanced down at the croissant again, something like a smile tugging at her mouth. “You didn’t have to bring this.”

“I wanted to,” Bob said. “Figured you could use something familiar.”

Familiar.

That word felt too sharp and too soft all at once.

She looked at him then, fully. “You always notice more than you let on.”

“Only the important things.”

That silenced her not because she didn’t have a response, but because she didn’t trust herself to say it.

The air between shifted. Not tense. It felt charged with something new and uncertain. She could feel it like static under her skin. The way her heart slowed when she looked at him, then sped up again when he looked back.

It was dangerous, what she felt blooming quietly in the cracks of her exhaustion. But she didn’t shut it down.

She didn’t lean in. Didn’t touch him.

But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t pull away either.

“How are you?” He asked.

“The pain meds are helping a lot.” She admitted. “I think they’ll discharge me soon, but you know… I could use the break.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded. He seemed pensive, a little nervous, the way he barely held her gaze. 

“What about you?” She asked again.

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I’m… okay.” A pause. “I can’t - I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me back there.”

She went to speak, but he lifted a hand. “It’s hard, when people see that part of me. But you didn’t leave.” 

“Neither did you.” She replied. 

Their eyes met, and she looked away first.

“You always this quiet?” She asked after a beat.

Bob looked at her sidelong. “Only around people I don’t want to lose.”

Her breath caught.

“You think I’m going somewhere?”

“I think everyone goes somewhere, eventually,” he said. “Sometimes just... back to who they used to be.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze fell back to the TV.

“I had this fantasy,” she said. “That I could build a little life. Quiet, small, boring. I didn’t want much — just safety. Stability. Maybe a rent-controlled apartment and a cat that liked me.”

“That doesn’t sound boring.”

“To me, it sounded like freedom,” she said. “But no matter how far I got from who I was, I always expected a knock at the door. A job offer. A target. A reminder.”

Bob was silent a long time.

“I thought being Sentry meant I could finally help,” he said. “But the truth is, most days I feel like I’m babysitting a nuke. Waiting to detonate.”

Maude turned to him. “But you haven’t.”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I think… I think people like us don’t just disappear into quiet lives. Not really. We carry too much.”

She took a breath. “Maybe. Or maybe we just need someone who sees all of it and doesn’t flinch.”

For a moment Y/N didn’t feel like a weapon in disguise. And Bob didn’t feel like a ticking clock.

“I’m still going to try,” she said.

“Try what?”

“Build the quiet life,” Y/N said. “Even if it’s only for a little while. Even if it’s messy. I think I owe that to myself.”

Bob smiled. Not the sad kind. The real kind.

“Then I’ll try too.”

“Good.”

[emmyc0z]

PLS YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE FICS ABOUT ASTARION the one you did was so good and cute ☹️☹️ i love it

Let Me Clean Your Wounds

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : a long week of hard work leaves your party tired and injured. you offer to clean astarions and to your surprise, he accepts.

warnings : talk about blood.

a/n : thank you anon :0 i STILL have not played baldurs gate (so i apologize again for my lack of knowledge).

It had been an incredibly long week. 

It started by someone in the party pointing out that you had no more money left. So you had to spend your days doing odd jobs for people in the nearby town. 

However, a few of them had failed to mention the fact that their job requests could end up harming you in more ways than one. An easy job, like gathering fruit for an old lady who can’t venture out that far anymore, suddenly turned into fighting a hag in the woods for trespassing on her property. 

The compensation received was hardly enough for the injuries you and your party would gather on your bodies throughout the day. 

As powerful as your group was, being caught off guard by some giant creature in the woods left you at a disadvantage. And when calmly mentioned to the people of the village, suggesting that their pay be higher for sending you to do such strenuous tasks so they wouldn’t be attacked themselves, they threw their arms up to you. 

Calling you greedy and saying you were trying to steal their gold. Of course that didn’t sit well with the nearby guards, and while jumping to conclusions without any investigation, you were thrown in a cell. Not all your party, just you, as the leader. 

You weren’t released until a member of your party persuaded them, using the gold you had just earned from the townspeople’s ridiculous jobs. 

So you packed up your camp, and ventured out to find another village. One where you hadn’t been put behind bars for scheming and trying to steal gold from the elderly. 

When you found a nice spot, and a town that looked to have more than enough gold to go around, you set up camp in the nearby woods. The townspeople were less than friendly, but at least they were honest about their jobs. 

They made it abundantly clear that they would not be handing out charity and that you had to work for the gold you earned. That turned out to be a challenge after a few jobs had been completed , and it had clicked that your party has been consistently acquiring injuries over the last few days. 

Your party was down in power. You were lacking in energy, and it was showing in the way your attacks would fly but often miss or hit with not much force behind them. 

So after completing one last job, and buying some fresh meat from the town, you decided to rest. Finally caving into the exhaustion, you felt almost weak when Lae’zel complained about stopping. But nobody else seemed to have any complaints. 

Lae’zel was hasty to eat, along with almost everybody else in the party. They got a fire started and the warmth hugged your body, but while scanning over everyone’s face you realized just how rough your condition had become . 

Everyone seemed to be holding up all right, you weren’t too worried, but as you looked in closer you noticed Astarion was seated farther away from the fire picking at his skin. 

Curious, you left the warmth of the fire and wandered over to him. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

“No, well, not much. But I don’t think you’d listen if I said I did.” You shook your head at him before taking a seat beside him. 

His face was pretty bruised up, cuts on his cheek and lip. And his arms were covered with scratches that it was continuing to pick at. 

You took another glance before standing up and walking back over to your own tent to grab some bandages, your flask of water, and a rag of some sort to wipe his wounds. When you came back he stared at you with amusement in his eyes. 

“What exactly are you planning to do with all that, darling?” 

“You're covered in cuts, have to clean them up so they don’t scar your pretty face. Let me clean your wounds?” You tried not to let the pet name have any effect over you, but you were sure your thoughts were showing through your cheeks. His hand moved to touch his cheek, as if he didn’t believe that he truly did have any injuries, wincing as his finger brushed against a larger cut. 

“You’re seriously worried about me when you’re in the same condition? For the love of the gods , you were thrown in a cell this week and you're truly worried about some cuts on my cheeks?”

“May I?” You held the rag up in your hands, pouring some water over it. He nodded, hesitantly of course, but he allowed it anyway. 

Gently, you placed the dampened rag over his cuts, wiping away at the dried blood and layer of dirt covering his pale skin. His brows furrowed, the sight causing you to let out a giggle. Usually, Astarion was very closed off, so being this close to him and him allowing you to help him was sort of new to you. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m in pain and your ..giggling?” He tried to be stern and serious, his usual facade, but a small smile was playing at the corner of his lip.  

“I’m sorry,” You let out another giggle as you swiped away at his skin and his eyebrows furrowed once more, “It’s just cute, I’ve never seen your face scrunch up like that.”

He seemed to pause, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. You were being serious. You thought he was cute, when he was covered in blood and dirt. Him showing a little weakness , you thought it was cute? 

“What? I know my face is probably dirty.” You rubbed at your cheek with your free hand, conscious of your appearance as his gaze lingered on your face. He didn’t care though, he was too busy thinking about your words. 

“Cute is an absurd word to use when describing someone like me. I’m too handsome to be described in such ..simple terms.” His smirk returned to his face, your mouth now agape unsure of whether he was serious or not. 

“C’mon now Astarion, I never said you weren’t handsome. I just said you were cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” The rag sat in your lap, his face was clean, his cuts just needed a little cover up. 

“So you do think I’m handsome?” He leaned in closer , his voice captivating. 

“Well I never said that either.” You placed your hand on his chest to distance yourself , ripping off a piece of the bandaging in your hands and manipulating it into place on his cheek. 

He wore a subtle pout on his lips but when you moved in close and kissed his cheek, in a moment of boldness,  it soon fell away. 

Astarion’s hands brushed against your own, taking the damp rag and pouring more water onto the other unused end. 

“My turn, darling.” The rag, making contact with your skin, made goosebumps appear on your skin. It was colder than you expected, and you knew there had to be small cuts littering your face by the way it stung. Your face must have tensed because he took his turn to laugh at you. 

“You know, you are very beautiful, even with your face all scrunched up.” He was mocking you. obviously, but his voice mixed with his compliments made your cheeks flush. 

A final swipe along your cheek and he pulls the rag away, “There. All clean, my dear.” 

His hand reached out to cup your cheek, but before the act became too intimate, he changed his course and ran his hand along the side of your hair to flatten it down. 

“You really are quite pretty .” He knew his words had such a serious effect on you, as you never tried to hide the fact that your feelings for him were far from platonic interest. It was so weird seeing him be so friendly, and flirty in a way that wasn’t meant to manipulate.

“Would you stop? It’s not nice to tease y'know.” 

“And who told you I was teasing, my dear? Was it Lae’zel cause I’ve always thought she might have a thing for me.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, joking. “I would never tease a woman as pretty as you, that would be very cruel of me.” 

“Do you want to join me by the fire?” His gaze shifted to look at the group seated around the fire, he seemed to ponder before looking back at you with furrowed brows. 

“I can smell their horrible odor from here.” You huffed, pushing his shoulder. He looked once more, and seemed to ponder some more but his face was hard enough to read when he wasn’t looking away from you. 

Astarion groaned, ringing out the wet rag still sitting in his hands. “That is not an answer, Astarion. I’m cold, and the fire looks so nice.”

“Fine, if we must, we can go,” You smiled down at him as you stood but it was replaced with a look of shock when he pulled you to sit back down, “On one simple condition.” 

You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want from me?” 

He stayed silent for a second, but as he noticed you becoming increasingly impatient he began to speak.

“A kiss. Not a petty one, and not on my cheek. I mean a real one.” You were flush in the face once more. He seemed totally serious, a permanent smirk painted on his face, but his eyes stared into your own without any sign of humor. You honestly thought he might be mocking you. 

“Okay. I can do that. Easy, but only if you’re nice and say please.” 

“Now who’s teasing.” You only stared at him, sternly. If he wanted to act like a child, and demand rewards in order to complete simple tasks, then you could tease him like one. “Fine. Please…pretty please.”

Your eyes widened, you didn’t think you had ever heard him say please to anyone, let alone add in a “pretty”.

 He didn’t move, he was entirely dead set on this. His face was close enough to yours that you didn’t have to shuffle very far. As gently as you could, in case he decided that he was joking and pulled away, you placed your hands on his face.

One hand cupping his cheek, fingertips rubbing at the hairs falling delicately in front of his ears, the other near the bottom of his cheek and holding onto his jaw. Slowly, you pulled him in until your lips met his. You still weren’t entirely convinced that he was serious, but when his fingers entangled in your hair and pulled you in deeper, you had a hunch that he might not be joking. 

He didn’t let you pull away until he was entirely satisfied. Your breath was heavy, and your skin was hotter than before in multiple ways. 

“I haven’t had a meaningful one in a long time, darling. Thank you.”

“Should we go sit by the fire?” You stood up, legs wavering before stiffening, and you offered him out your hand. He took it in his large one, following you to the fire, sitting beside you. There was a heavy silence, causing you to look around and see everybody's eyes already on you. 

“What?”

“If you guys are gonna keep sucking each other's faces, could you please do it in a tent? You made me lose my appetite.”

[nonsensenook]

Chapter 1 | Torn, Placed

Synopsis: An unapologetic take on you, the reader, appearing in the world of Black Myth to accompany the Destined One on his journey.

Word Count: 2,138

Warnings: Violence

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy and join me in the indulgence!

Read On AO3: Link

Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - 3.5 (Optional) - Ch. 4 - Ch.5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You felt your legs screaming as your inner shirt clung to you with sweat. It’s been hours since today’s trek began and you truly would do anything to simply sink to the forest floor and cuddle with some nearby mushrooms to sleep. Despite passing some very inviting fungi you refrained from asking to rest. After all, this wasn’t your journey. It wasn’t your place to halt its progress as you wished. You felt you were enough of a burden to have added yourself to a story already written. Tired as you were, you could always rely on your own stubbornness to keep you going. 

The Destined One held out an arm, stopping you as he listened for any sounds ahead. Unlike you, his breathing wasn’t labored. You weren’t sure if he ever needed to sweat. He looked as he always did: composed, reliable, and ready with staff in hand. Watching him like this reminded you of the deep gratitude you held for him, one that came to be long before you stood by his side.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you appeared in this world. You don’t remember much other than vague flashes of memories. You were falling, tumbling, then a creature of unfathomable size found you. You remember bracing yourself as its claws promised a swift death. You saw a staff crash down on its head just as you fell unconscious. The next time you opened your eyes you were laying near a fire. Darkness and a lush forest surrounded you. Someone had draped a spare robe over you. That someone, you recognized, slept across from you sitting up; leaning against a tree. 

You remember staring at him, hands running through your hair in stunned silence. He was a character turned to life, one that you knew too well. After almost burning your hand in the fire to test the theory of a dream you pieced together the only logical conclusion to this illogical situation. One that you weren’t ready to accept. Your thoughts and rising panic were interrupted by the Keeper of Blackwind Mountain. 

He appeared in a whirl of smoke, waving the mist away and pointing towards you with the end of a backscratcher. He called you an “unprecedented interloper.” You couldn’t say you disagreed. The Destined One awoke to the two of you exchanging questions that neither could answer. There was the idea to have you dropped off at a human village, though this was quickly rejected as not only was it well off the course, but the Keeper had a sneaking suspicion that your presence, however “wrong” and “erroneous,” was tied to that of the Destined One’s. It was decided that you would accompany him on his journey, whether that be for a larger role you play or simply to keep you alive. You personally leaned more towards the latter. “Perhaps,” the Keeper said as smoke enveloped him once more, “once everything falls back into place, then so too would you.” 

The Destined One initially traveled ahead of you so as to scout for potential dangers. This was remedied when you both were ambushed from behind. Now he keeps pace with you, never showing any signs or indication that your slower speed frustrated him. The start of the journey was a cruel leap from what you were accustomed to, but you soon found yourself adapting. You never allowed yourself to ask for anything, not even as your feet bled or how much your body screamed at you.

Today may be easier, but that didn’t stop your lungs from feeling like they were bursting. The Destined One let his arm fall. The path ahead was clear. You took a step forward and felt your foot catch on a tree root. The Young Sage reacted quickly, catching your arm. 

“I’m sorry, let me just-” your legs took this golden opportunity to buckle under you. The Destined One put his arm under yours, shouldering your weight. He led you to sit on the root as you settled your breathing.

“I’m fine, I just need to catch my breath,” you explained, clutching at your chest. The Destined One shrunk his staff, stowing it away. He knelt beside you. To your horror you realized he was offering his back. 

“Truly! I’m fine!” you cried out, flustered. The Destined One stood back up. This relieved you till you looked closer at him. You could read how utterly unconvinced he was the way his hand resting on his hip paired with his unblinking stare. 

“You’re already carrying enough, I can manage my own weight at the very least.” You readied yourself to stand back up. In response he held up a pinky. You stopped, staring at him skeptically. He stepped towards you, hooking it onto your outer robe. He barely moved his arm before your whole body was lifted from the ground. Message clearly packaged, delivered, and received. Ever and always so silent, he placed you down and offered you his back. This time, you obediently let him carry you, ignoring the feeling of satisfaction that came from him. 

The young monkey straightened up, making you instinctively move your hands from his shoulders to wrap around his neck. He quickly understood and angeled himself downwards before he started walking. 

Your mind went from the way your chest was pressed against his back to your faces being much too close, then to the way his hands gripped your legs to support your weight. You felt yourself warming up. You weren’t sure that it was from the heat of the day anymore. With you on his back the pace quickened to where he was almost doubling the distance covered. You shoved away the feeling of guilt which nestled into your stomach. You ignored whatever dance your heart was doing in your chest. 

~

Traveling with your silent companion had a difficult adjustment period. You appeared in this world with nothing but your clothing, which were shortly in tatters from your stumble into a Yaoguai’s territory. The Destined One fashioned you new clothing that could hold their own. He’d also lent you a staff, but your first attempt at wielding it had you either accidentally hitting yourself or dropping it. You thought you saw a humorous quirk of his lips when you had hit yourself on the head the third time, but that may have been the self-inflicted head injury. He had held out his hand and you wordlessly returned the staff. 

The journey was initially silent, but you eventually began filling the air with light chatter. You talked about anything on your mind on that particular day whether it be a memory, story, or particularly interesting item from your world. You weren’t sure if he was ever fully listening. He never made any indication for you to stop. In one instance you were interrupted by an archer who was shortly intercepted and disposed of. When he returned to your side he made a motion for you to continue your story about a movie you had once watched, a delight you tried to settle down. It became easier to read his subtle gestures and little facial expressions. Sometimes, you would react to him as if he were speaking aloud. You never made mention of how you knew as much as you did about him or his journey. That was the one topic you avoided. There was this strong instinct never to mention this world’s origins. It was akin to how one would avoid eating ominous mushrooms or lick questionable stains. 

With the knowledge you could share, you advised him when able. He eventually understood that telling him you’d be waiting for him at a shrine meant he was about to fight a rather powerful Yaoguai. He never questioned when you pointed out things he may have missed or the way you would let him know what sort of enemy to prepare for next. Whether he thought your instinct or intuition strong, he trusted your judgment.

At night, the Destined One would scout for a place to rest. On some lucky days he finds an abandoned home or building to stay in. On the cold nights where camp would be set outside, you’d sit closer to the fire. One morning you woke up to find your limbs wrapped around your companion. Your blanket twisted between the two of you. Your body had sought him out in the night. Even with you rousing from your stupor you found it unbearably difficult to separate from his warmth. Eventually, you did manage to unwind yourself. You had rolled over, pretending to continue to sleep for a bit longer before doing a very convincing rise and stretch. You avoided eye contact with him the first time you did this and your stories came sparingly. After the next few times you eventually realized that the days you woke up intertwined with him were the only days where he’d be the second to rise. You assumed he was graciously giving you time to leave without having to go through the embarrassed apologies you had prepared. For that you were grateful. In any case, neither of you brought it up. 

As time passed you were soon able to keep pace with the Destined One without relying on him having to carry you. The speed at which you were adapting to this world felt too quick to be natural, but you were working with too many unknowns to be sure. You thought of giving the staff another try, but your skills were just the same as when you’d started. Learned behavior did not count, unfortunately.

~

The day had been sweltering when you and your companion made camp near a spring. The Destined One had scouted the area with you before it was deemed safe to stay for the night. You were excited to be able to bathe in such a beautiful area, especially after such a hot day. You left the young monkey at the camp before going to the water. The flora around it kept you private from one another. You stripped off your clothes, letting them rest on some rocks in the light of the setting sun. You tested the water with one foot, it was refreshingly cool. You waded in till the water reached your waist, then held your breath and ducked below the surface. You emerged laughing, feeling the droplets fall from your hair. 

The water felt invigorating on your skin. You felt more than just the accumulated dirt and grime being washed off of you. You began washing your hair, trying to detangle any knots you found when you felt something squirming land on you from an overhanging tree branch. You cried out in surprise, quickly brushing off a curious little lizard. The lizard made its getaway just as the Destined One leapt into the spring, staff in hand. 

“It’s okay, a lizard just surprised me,” you explained with a small laugh, hands raised in reassurance. He looked down. You looked down. You quickly covered yourself in a panic, going lower into the water as he turned on his heel to head back in the direction of camp. You lowered your head till it was submerged again so that only the fish could hear your cries of embarrassment. You stayed longer than you wanted to in the spring until your face stopped burning and your hands began to wrinkle. Drying yourself off, you did whatever you could to shake off the mortification of what just happened. You dressed yourself, hesitating to return back to camp. What do you say to someone who just saw you naked? Do you apologize? Make a joke of it? Pretend it never happened? All were answers but none seemed correct on their own. You settled your breathing. You can go with E: All of the above.

Back at the camp you found the Destined One sitting cross legged, poking at the small fire he had made. His tail was swishing left to right, making the pattern of a fan in the dirt. You hesitated again, unsure on how to bring up what just happened. You weren’t sure how long you stood there for when the Young Sage suddenly inhaled sharply through his teeth, tossing the stick he was holding aside. He had let it burn down to a stub till the small fire reached his fingers. Seems you weren’t the only one lost in their own mind. You smiled, somehow relieved in knowing that. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, your tone light with humor. He turned to you, you saw him relax at seeing you smiling. You went next to him, then crouched down, holding out your hands. “Can I see?” 

He held out his hand, you took it between yours, looking closely for any sign of damage. His hand was large with dark nails well pointed and sharp. You felt you were brushing past his fingers with your own more than you needed to. Satisfied at seeing no wound, you let go. He held his hand there for a moment before retracting it. Wordlessly, you both stood up. You refuse to let any awkward silences stretch on, being the only one who can actually break them. 

“It’s your turn to use the spring,” you said, putting your arms behind you, “Watch out for lizards.” You mentally kicked yourself. The Destined One watched your expression for a moment, considering your warning. Then he gave a small nod and headed for the spring. You let out a held breath. This feeling will not be leaving you any time soon, but at the very least nothing’s changed as far as you can tell.

The next day, after untangling from the Destined One once again, the two of you continued onward as usual. Soon, the lush forests became bare sand as the two of you entered the next part of the journey. 

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vending Machine whirred softly as it produced the 5th candy bar in a row. It’d been a week since the science division had turned into a chocolate factory, but Liz wasn’t that worried. Coco didn’t have a chemical makeup that could be affected by diabetic amounts of sugar. The opposite, in fact, the little Sprygan was doing better than ever, and wasn’t so little anymore. Just like plants on Earth, botanical lifeforms needed glucose to grow, and apparently when given daily supplements of the stuff, their growth rate accelerated at frightening speeds.

Liz walked back to the lab, with a hearty Halloween’s worth of candy bars in her hands and pockets. Some crewmen gave her odd looks as she passed, but she paid them little mind. The door to the lab opened with a quick hiss.

“So we got milk, dark, white with macadamia nuts, and… what are you doing?”

Coco was standing in the center of the room, their new fuller branches seemingly vibrating. Liz thought they looked excited. The same Coco, who at the time when the mission began, was at best maybe 3 feet tall, now stood almost 5 1/2 feet in height and had a significantly thicker trunk. They were about as big as Liz was herself now, with a thicker canopy in the beginnings of bloom. They leaned in Liz’s direction, vines trembling.

“I just got a message from the bridge. There’s a uncharted planetoid in this system with a moon that might have breathable atmosphere, and they want a full ecological report written up.”

“So we’re going down there?”

“Correct! It’ll take 2 cycles to get there, but then it’s all ours!”

Liz was overjoyed! Finally, some actual field work instead of editing someone else’s papers all day. A whole new ecosystem with god knows how many new species… if it had atmosphere, of course.

Can’t get too excited yet girl, Liz thought.

“Does the moon have water?” She asked.

“Indeed.”

That’s a real good sign though, she figured.

“Can I have my chocolate now please?” Coco asked.

“Oh right, yeah, here you go,” Liz said, setting the bars on the table. Coco’s vines reached out and snatched them, taking them back into their canopy to be the plant equivalent of ‘digested’. The usual humming started up as they enjoyed their snacks. Liz wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see bark physically forming on their trunk now, or perhaps it was simply a discoloration.

“You’re sure this much sugar is good for you hon?” Liz asked, concern slowly winning out over scientific curiosity.

“The thing you call cocoa seeds are not plentiful on my planet, so I’m unsure if any Sprygan has ever had this much in such a short period of time, but I’ve never had so much energy before. My growth rate is miraculous, I’m almost completely out of my juvenile sapling stage now.”

“And that’s a… good thing?”

“Very. Saplings on my planet are the easier targets for predators. With a harder outer layer I’ll be much safer now. I’ve been composing a paper on this for days, it’ll be of great significance to Spryga.” Coco continued humming, ‘munching’ away on her candy bars.

“Well alright then, so long as you’re okay,” Liz said. “So tell me more about this moon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep in the Antares System, hidden from scanners by the solar radiation of the tertiary star, was a desolate little rock burnt to a crisp by stellar winds during a flare eons ago. Its moon, however, was protected from the fire while in the shadow of the planet. And so it continued to turn, with barely a few degrees changed, undisturbed.

Until now.

The Noah entered the system from WARP, keeping a safe distance from the tertiary star in case of solar flares, and settled into a comfortable orbit around the planetoid to scout the surface of the nearby moon, now being called MX13.

From the Bridge, Liz and Coco read the initial scans from various probes launched when they’d arrived.

“Gravity reads…damn, big moon,” Liz said, surprised, “9.1, just a little under galactic and Earth standard.”

“Gas spectrometer reads as breathable atmosphere to 70% of known intelligent lifeforms,” Coco read on, “but not humans. You’ll have to wear a mask Human Liz.”

“What’s the chemical makeup like?” Liz asked.

“95% methane… similar to what you call Titan in your Terran home system. Without a mask you’d have a few minutes at best before you suffocated.”

“So yeah, rebreathers are fashionable this time of year,” Liz laughed. Even the idea of suffocating in a potentially hostile ecosystem wasn’t enough to bring her spirits down. It had been ages since she’d set foot on extraterrestrial soil.

“Ahem,” grunted Skitch, as much as a bipedal bug man could go ‘ahem’ with mandibles.

“What does fashionable mean?” Coco asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” Liz whispered.

Captain Skitch had been waiting off to the side for a while now while they geeked out over the moon.

“Now then,” he said, arms behind his thorax stoically, “in six rels[?] [GAIL standard term: 1 rel approximately 1 earth hour(s)] we’re sending a shuttle down to the moon to conduct the requested ecological report. Our main objective is to see if there are any lifeforms, intelligent or otherwise, living there. If it is deemed uninhabited, we’re to declare whether or not it could become a potential colony for GAIL member races.”

Liz was almost painfully excited. Uncharted habitats, potentially establishing a colony, this is what she worked 6 years in the academy for, what she lived for.

“Sir, what are we supposed to do if we do come across any lifeforms down there?” She asked.

“You know the rules. On the off chance you come across anyone intelligent, you do not get involved, you do not get seen. We’re here to record the natural evolution of the universe, nothing more.”

“There’s very little chance of that,” Coco chimed in, “the first scans of the surface are being analyzed, there doesn’t seem to be any structure of any kind on the surface, so it’s unlikely we’ll come across any sentient species.”

“On the off chance you do have an encounter, I’m assigning commander Koatil to the landing party. She’ll be in charge of everything, and has my full authority to make any judgment call she sees fit.”

As if on cue, First officer Koatil made the bridge, her thermal suit fitted with extra armor for the expedition, hiding her powder blue fur. It seemed to Liz she’d freshly sharpened the horns on top of her head as well. She’d always figured they looked like rams horns, and thought how interesting it was that Doun women were the only ones with horns in their species.

“Good to meet you both,” Koatil said. “I’m sure this’ll go smoothly for all of us, just stick with the group and everything will be fine. Permission to depart, Captain?”

“Granted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Noah’s shuttle bay was about the size of Liz’s old high school gymnasium, vaulted ceiling and wide open space, plenty of room for the three docked shuttles. Commander Koatil stood nearby, doing her final check as bay staff loaded the shuttle with cases of the scientific instruments they’d use to analyze the moon’s ecosystem.

Liz and Coco, along with the shuttle pilot and 2 other security personnel, stood ready to board at the commander’s say. She inspected the crew going down to the moon with them. The pilot seemed fine, even had two more arms to steer, so that was reassuring, but it was the security personnel that caught her attention. If Liz was seeing it right, the two were not on friendly terms with each other. The first one, an Indoprime, was standing at an awkward distance from the other guard, a Sed man. Neither spoke to the other, the Indoprime even slightly leaning away from the Sed, who stared straight ahead and said nothing. Both had plasma pistols on their belts, as well as upper armor over their uniforms. Liz was going to be severely disheartened if they messed up the ‘roadtrip’ she’d been waiting for.

Commander Koatil handed the pad to one of the crewmen and made her way to them at the shuttle.

“All aboard to MX13,” she said, resting her big paw on the pistol on her hip as she climbed in the door. The rest of them, Liz and Coco, the pilot, and the security personnel followed behind her. The door sealed shut behind them.

Liz took her seat, helping to secure Coco in theirs. The buckles weren’t well suited to thumbless species. She’d made sure the belts didn’t dislodge their own pistols from their holsters. Having a rogue plasma shot in here wouldn’t end well.

Buttons were pressed, dials turned, something that looked like a cup holder was pulled out of the dash, and the shuttle came to life.

“Shuttle Alpha, you are clear for departure.”

“Acknowledged,” replied the pilot.

The hangar doors opened, leaving behind the gas mesh, a thin blue wall of light to keep the air in the room from exploding into the void. Their shuttle passed through it easily, heading into open space.

“Haven’t seen this view for a while,” Liz said. Sure, of course there were windows on the ship, but it felt different in a shuttle. Like the void was just a hair’s width away from her now, waiting for her.

“My sensory receptors can’t make out anything but the shuttle,” Coco said, “could you describe it to me?” Coco’s leaves were shaking slightly, so Liz reached out and put a hand on their branch. The shaking calmed.

“Well first it’s just the sheer amount of stars,” Liz said quietly, “like a million points of light. There’s a nebula about 12,000 light years away off the port side that looks like butterfly wings if you squint… if you look at it right. Coco, I can’t express it right, the moon looks beautiful.”

“Human Liz, I’m jealous of you. Seeing in the visible spectrum must been so interesting.”

“Well what does the world around you look like? What do you perceive?”

“Well as you know, my branches have a sensory function to detect my surroundings, vibrations, light, even sensations in a way. But I don’t know how one would compare our two sensory experiences.”

“Your communicator is built into your brain isn’t it?” Liz asked. “Couldn’t it be adjusted to send sensory signals to your mind as well?”

“It’s possible, but the technology isn’t developed yet,” Coco explained. Liz looked at her a moment.

“Think we could fix that? I’d hate for my best friend to miss this view for their whole life.”

Coco didn’t say anything to that. She just listened as Liz described the universe around them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boosters fired.

Air brakes deployed.

Shuttle Alpha landed safely on the moon MX13.

The landing party filed out, and except for Coco, everyone decided against the worst case scenario and wore respirators. It wasn’t as bulky as Liz first thought, just a face mask with a line to a small air cleaner on her belt. Coco was the only one who didn’t need to breathe, so they were totally fine.

Stepping off the shuttle onto the moon’s surface, Liz was surprised at the vegetation around them. Muddy purple grass bed the ground, surrounded by rocky patches across the valley where they’d landed. Off in the distance were what appeared to be trees, thick branchless trunks growing straight up, splitting into angular canopies. Liz brought her camera up and snapped a photo.

“Alright, spread out but try to stay in sight of the shuttle,” Koatil said over their radios. “I know we’re setting g sensors pretty far out, so if anyone gets into trouble out there, launch a flare and we’ll come get you. Grite! You’re with the science team, go with them.”

The Sed man, Grite, looked almost pained at the idea of tagging along with Liz and the Sprygan.

“Aye, commander.”

“Think you can help us carry the sensors?” Liz asked, hoping to break the ice. She already had 2 bags strapped to her back and another slung over her shoulder. Coco was too small to carry anything.

“You can carry your own supplies,” growled Grite, keeping his distance from them.

What a dick, Liz thought, shouldering another bag on her other arm. The sensors she was carrying were heavy, but she was still in high spirits. Field work! Hurray!

They must’ve walked for over a mile, planting sensors every few hundred feet in ‘places of interest’, namely places Liz and Coco thought looked cool or had neat vegetation or rock formations. They’d made their way into a swampy area, heading towards a line of hills in the distance.

Coco went off a ways to plant a sensor by a small marshy cove they’d detected. Grite followed behind Liz, glaring every time she looked back. She didn’t know what she’d done to annoy him so much, she’d just met the guy, but maybe she’d done something or said something offensive by alien standards.

Whatever, don’t need him for this, Liz thought. This is a brain mission, not a buff rock guy mission.

“Human Liz,” Coco called over the radio, “there’s a rocky area here, with a subterranean tunnel system.”

“Cool, moon caves,” Liz laughed. “I’ll be right there with the another sensor, just wait for me, okay?”

“There are these round stones here half buried in the soil, at the entrance,” they continued.

That made Liz pause a moment.

“Just one or two, or are they in a kind of a pile?”

Static.

“Coco? Talk to me hon, pile or no pile?”

Static still. A few pips and pops, followed by a squeal of feedback noise. Liz’s blood ran cold.

“-uman Liz-… predator-… help-…”

“Grite launch the flare now!” Liz yelled, dropping the bags to the ground before breaking out in a sprint. She stomped and lunged through a few hundred yards of marsh, quick as she could, hitting solid earth at a dead run. The Sed was either behind her or he wasn’t, Liz couldn’t think about that in the moment. She had a pistol herself, and while she may have been the science geek on the ship, her dad had made sure she knew how to use it.

She cleared the marsh and crested a small ridge line, following the trudging trail of the little Sprygan. There she saw the scene, Coco on their side, massive claw marks raked up their trunk, and what looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a gator, long snout and mouth with jagged teeth and a ‘feline’ body, muscled and lithe with a forked tail. The thing’s back was covered in ridged scales, while its limbs were bare, wrapped in fur and old battle scars.

FUCK, Liz thought. She pulled her pistol and shot energized plasma directly at its head, but it barely even burned it. Whatever this thing was made of, its skin was fire proof. Her translator crackled in her ear.

“-human Liz…-?”

Liz didn’t hesitate any further. She leapt from the ridge, landing on the creature’s back. She took the butt of her pistol and started slamming it on the back of the thing’s head, over and over again, before the creature bucked her off.

Liz fell hard, hitting her head and mask on the ground with a sickening crack. Gas started venting fast, there was an inch long crack in her visor now, a whole chuck of it missing, falling somewhere in the dirt. Somewhere above her hair line she must’ve been cut on the rocks, because blood was dripping down into her left eye.

Dimly she was aware that she was already dead, if her mask was broken then there was no way to get back to the shuttle before she suffocated. But that being said, she was going to fuck up this monster trying to eat her best friend before making her grand exit.

What a way to go, huh Liz? she imagined in her father’s voice. He’d be smiling in a situation like this. Liz grabbed the side of her broken mask and ripped it off, throwing it at the creature as it crouched in front of her. She took in a deep breath of ‘air’, filling her lungs, and screamed. Her legs bent into a crouch, her back tensed, she tasted blood in her mouth. Adrenaline poured into her veins, dulling the pain, giving her strength and funneling rage into the center of her brain. She had one job now.

“COME ON THEN YOU FUCKER, LETS FUCKING GO!”

Liz charged the creature, firing bolts of burning plasma as she went, praying that dick Grite was somewhere nearby ready to get Coco out of there while it was busy mauling her to death.

The creature shrugged off the pistol fire, pouncing on her, pinning her to the rocky ground. Stones and the alien’s claws dug into her sides and back. It opened its jaws wide, and Liz realized it meant to eat her head. Fuck this thing.

“You hungry you big bastard?! EAT THIS!”

Liz worked her arm free, the one still holding a death grip on her plasma pistol, and shoved it down the creature’s throat. Its teeth tore into her arm, screaming pain ripped up her side, and Liz never stopped pulling the trigger. The smell of burning filled the air as the creature squealed and whined, its body going limp as bodily fluid poured out its mouth. She didn’t stop, emptying the clip into its blown out organs. Finally the thing was quiet.

Liz didn’t even bother trying to pull her arm out of the alien’s mouth, the thing was ruined, and she was dying anyway. Between blood loss and asphyxiation, her vision was already fading to little pin pricks. With the last shred of consciousness, she let out one more howl, screaming into the air, before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth Collins didn’t remember what happened after that. All she knew was she was sore all over and weirdly cold, which would make sense if she was just a corpse, but why did she hear… was that ABBA?

Please not an eternity of pop music, she thought sluggishly. Anything but that.

She struggled, oddly weightless, and tried to open her eyes but found they’d been bandaged shut.

Oh good, I’m alive, people hardly ever bandage dead people.

What about mummies?

Shut up, me.

She reached a hand out and touched something smooth and solid. She tried to tap her knuckles against it, but only got one good rap at it before her hand hurt too much. Thankfully it seemed that’s all she needed.

“Human Liz, are you conscious? How do you feel? Are you in discomfort?”

Oh good, Coco was alive too.

“Wait, no, don’t try to speak right now, you’re in the regeneration pod right now, in nano surgery. I’ll be right here when it’s over, return to being unconscious please.”

Oh, okay, sleep sounded good anyway. Night night, Coco.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be twitchy for a few cycles until it adjusts to your neural pathways, but it should feel just like the old one soon.”

One of the other humans, a woman named Jane Shaw who worked in med bay, had sat down with her earlier that morning to go over her… condition.

“We had to replace the lining of your lungs with a prosthetic mesh to keep them working,” she’d said, “you were out in that methane air for a while. If it hadn’t been for your Sprygan friend feeding you oxygen from their branches, you never would’ve made it.”

“I don’t think even they knew they could do that,” Liz had forced a laugh, coughing a bit. “Now, about my arm?”

“Completely scrapped. Whatever stomach acid that creature had, it melted your arm down to the bone. Can’t repair what isn’t there, I’m afraid.”

“I understand. Thanks, Doc.”

Well ain’t that something? Liz was effectively 15, maybe 20, percent cybernetic now. She told herself she’d trick out her new arm with all sorts of cool gadgets, making every effort to distract herself from the fact that she lost her right fucking arm.

“On the plus side,” she said quietly to herself as she walked toward the lab, “got another new project too.”

The door hissed open. And there was Coco, still as a tree, which she guessed made sense. She could barely see the claw marks on their trunk now, but wished she couldn’t at all. She should’ve been faster.

“Human Liz?”

“What’s up hon, you miss me?”

It’d been three days since the landing party had come back with her bleeding out in the shuttle, three days since she’d gotten to relax in their shared lab. She tapped the new glass enclosure where the eggs they’d gathered were incubating, the sign on the side saying ‘these eggs cost an arm and a leg!’ Apparently Chief Ducane had gone down there to gather what equipment could be salvaged and decided they’d be worth something to the science team. Maybe he thought he was being funny, Liz didn’t know. She did chuckle a little. Just a little.

“Human Liz, you are… okay now, yes? The reconstruction…” Coco’s leaves were shaking.

“Come on Coco, you know me, I’m totally fine! See?” Liz held up her new chrome arm, the new metallic fingers twitching at odd angles.

“That’ll stop in a few cycles, Doctor Shaw said so.”

“Human Liz, why did you do that?” Coco stood stock still in the center of the lab.

“Do what hon?”

“Why did you risk your existence[?] [life] to help me? That is not what we do on Spryga.”

Liz blinked a few times.

“Well that sucks, you all just let people get knocked off there?”

“Yes, in order to maintain the bulk of the colony.”

“Well this isn’t Spryga, Coco, and you’re my friend, of course I was gonna come get you, you asked for my help!”

“I should not have!”

Liz sat down and took a breath. This would be weird and awkward for everyone in the room who wasn’t an egg.

“You asked for my help, and I’m sorry, but I give a shit about you, and yeah, it cost me an arm and some lungs, but I was going to save you. So can you relax about it now? I mean damn, you’re my best friend, I wasn’t gonna leave you out there!”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Yeah you do. It means exactly what you think it does. That I’m coming to get you, whether you like it or not. We’ve only known each other three weeks on this boat, but you got yourself a very attached human who’ll make sure you live, got it?”

Coco was quiet a moment. Their branches started shaking again.

“I’m very very sorry you lost a branch[?] [limb] because of me,” they said quietly.

“It’s okay hon, I wasn’t mad at you about that. I’m just glad that Grite guy launched the flare so the shuttle could come get us.”

“Grite did not set off any flares,” Coco said, confused. “After you had killed the predator, I fired one into the sky before giving you oxygen from my leaves.”

Oh I’m gonna kill that guy with my new robo arm, Liz thought.

Back burner that for now.

“So yeah, hugs and kisses, make ups all around, love you too Coco,” Liz said, using her flesh hand to brush away the stale air between them. “You wanna help me trick out my arm? I was thinking a laser pointer and a universal remote control, what do you think?”

“I think you should be focused more on rehabilitation. From my research on lifeforms like humans, you require an extensive amount of time to recover from injuries this severe. It’s actually amazing, any other race would’ve been permanently incapacitated in similar situations.”

“Yeah, humans are weird huh? Perks of evolution on a deathworld like Earth.” She tried laughing again, dissolving into a coughing fit. Coco stood watching her. Liz could feel concern mixed with just a hint of judgment.

“Okay, yeah, I got rehab scheduled every other cycle after the shift is over,” Liz admitted.

“Good,” they said, content. “If my… best friend, is not functioning properly, I would be distressed.”

Liz smiled.

“And yes, I would most enjoy retrofitting your new branch[?] [limb]. We could make it… fashionable is the word, yes?”

[starryeyedwolves]

A Splash of Realization

It started with a splash.

A deep, resonant one that sent ripples across the surface of the Great Lake and a chorus of shocked gasps from a small group of Hogwarts students lounging on the warm early July grass.

“Sirius!”

Sirius collapsed onto his back, wheezing with laughter. “Oh, come on, Moony! You were asking for it, sitting there with your feet dangling like you’re on the bloody cover of a poetry book!”

Remus exploded out of the lake with all the grace of a drowned cat. Water streamed from his hair in thick ropes, his shirt stuck like parchment to the lean lines of his chest, and the fire in his amber eyes could have evaporated the entire lake.

James, sitting nearby with his shirt pulled up over his head like a sunhat, choked on his pumpkin juice. “Sirius, mate, you’re actually mad. Look at him! He’s going to hex you bald.”

Peter, snorting into his sandwich, muttered, “You’d deserve it.”

Sirius, however, had stopped laughing. Something caught in his throat as Remus pulled himself out of the water, droplets trailing down his skin like liquid light, his expression thunderous and perfect and alive. Sirius was suddenly, painfully aware of the way Remus’ jeans clung to his thighs, the way his hair curled wildly when soaked, the way his breath came in sharp, furious bursts.

“Oh, bollocks,” Sirius muttered to himself.

James, ever the loyal friend when he wasn’t busy mooning over Evans, leaned toward him. “You alright, Pads?”

“No,” Sirius said faintly, eyes still locked on the vision of his best mate looking like a furious god of vengeance. “I think I’ve just had a revelation.”

Remus stomped up the grass, squelching with every step. “You absolute twat. This was my best shirt.”

“Was,” Peter whispered helpfully.

Remus pointed his wand at Sirius. “You’ve got five seconds to run.”

“Wait, wait—” Sirius held his hands up, standing quickly. “I panicked! You looked so—serene. Like a tragic romantic hero. I couldn’t help it!”

“You think this is funny?” Remus was fuming, but he stopped a foot in front of Sirius, eyes narrowing as he noticed the flush on Sirius’ cheeks.

“No,” Sirius said. “I mean, yes. A little. But also, you’re—Merlin, Moony. You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

The world paused.

James spat out his pumpkin juice.

Peter’s sandwich fell in the grass.

Remus blinked.

“What?”

Sirius cursed under his breath. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“You think I’m—what?” Remus looked stunned, as if someone had slapped him.

Sirius took a deep breath. “I think... I’ve been thinking about you more than I should. For a while. And seeing you like that—drenched and dangerous—did things to me. And not just in the inappropriate sense, though Merlin knows it did that too.”

James gave a strangled cough.

Remus was silent, expression unreadable.

Sirius swallowed. “I mean... I didn’t push you because I fancy you, but the moment you came out looking like a bloody siren, I realized I might’ve done it because I fancy you.”

There was a beat.

And then Remus raised his wand and shouted, “Aguamenti!”

A jet of cold water smacked Sirius square in the face.

“Oi!” Sirius spluttered. “Uncalled for!”

Remus smirked. “Now we’re even.”

And then, before Sirius could react, Remus grabbed his collar, dragged him down, and kissed him—wet, fierce, and dizzying.

Somewhere behind them, James whooped and Peter gagged theatrically.

Later that evening, the four Marauders were camped out in the Gryffindor common room. Sirius and Remus sat together on the sofa, legs tangled, Remus wearing one of Sirius’ dry jumpers. Their shoulders brushed every time they moved, but neither complained.

James sprawled on the rug, Quidditch magazine over his face. “I still can’t believe it.”

Peter sat cross-legged near the fire, popping Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “I can. Sirius has been staring at Remus’ mouth for months.”

Sirius, who had, in fact, been doing exactly that, said, “Not just his mouth.”

Remus elbowed him sharply. “Behave.”

“I am! Mostly.” Sirius grinned and leaned in. “Do you have any idea how hot you looked all soaked and angry?”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hex you for being an idiot?”

James groaned from under the magazine. “This is my punishment, isn’t it? For teasing Evans all year. The universe has turned the tables. I have to listen to you two flirting.”

Peter pointed at them. “You know they’re going to snog any second now.”

Remus turned red.

Sirius beamed. “Damn right we are.”

James didn’t even look up. “At least do it quietly.”

The next time they were out by the Great Lake, Sirius didn’t push Remus in. Instead, they sat side by side, fingers laced together, basking in the warmth of a sun that didn’t burn quite as hot as the look Remus gave Sirius when he leaned in and whispered:

“Still think I’m beautiful when I’m angry?”

Sirius kissed him slow and sure. “Especially then.”

And the lake rippled gently, as if it approved.

The rest of July passed in a strange, giddy haze.

They didn’t exactly announce it — Sirius was too dramatic for subtlety, but Remus was allergic to attention. So they did what Marauders always did: let the jokes fly, let the rumors swirl, and let everything unspoken settle like dust in a sunbeam.

James and Peter took it surprisingly well.

“I knew it!” James said smugly one morning over toast. “You had that look, Moony. That ‘I want to strangle him or kiss him’ look.”

Remus grumbled into his mug. “That could apply to you on any given day.”

Peter gave Sirius a long look. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

Sirius didn’t even crack a pun. He just nodded, expression open for once, not masked in mischief.

“Good,” Peter said. “Because if you mess with him, I’ll turn you into a rat and bite you myself.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Terrifying, Wormtail.”

But he meant it: he was serious.

And Remus... Remus was letting him in, inch by careful inch.

One night, near curfew, Sirius found Remus leaning on the stone railing of the Astronomy Tower, staring at the stars like they were old friends who’d stopped writing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sirius asked, his voice low.

Remus glanced at him, soft-eyed. “Couldn’t think.”

Sirius came to stand beside him. “What’s up?”

Remus was quiet for a long time. Then: “I keep wondering if this is real. If it’s something we’ll laugh about in a month. If I’m just... a phase.”

The words landed like frost.

Sirius turned to face him fully. “Remus, look at me.”

He did. There was uncertainty there — buried under years of having to hide too much of himself. His scars, his temper, his want.

Sirius touched his face, fingers brushing his jaw.

“You are not a phase,” he said. “You’re the part of the day I wait for. The laugh I listen for in a crowd. The person I’m more myself with than anyone.”

Remus’ throat bobbed. “You’re just saying that to be poetic.”

“Maybe.” Sirius leaned in until their foreheads touched. “But I mean every word of it.”

And for once, Remus didn’t pull away. He just closed his eyes and breathed him in.

Of course, dating Sirius Black didn’t come without consequences.

“I told you I’d get revenge,” Remus said one humid afternoon as they lay under a tree beside the lake.

Sirius opened one eye. “You already soaked me in front of half the castle.”

“No, no. That was punishment. This is revenge.”

Sirius blinked.

Then suddenly, Remus was on top of him, straddling his waist, wand in one hand, smirking.

“Remus,” Sirius said, laughing. “Remus, what are you doing?”

“Something deeply satisfying.” He twirled his wand. “Tickling Charm.”

The next five minutes were filled with shrieking, gasping, howling Sirius and a smug-as-hell Remus sitting on top of him like a conquering king.

James walked by, took one look, and kept walking. “Nope. Not my circus.”

Peter was less fortunate — Remus flicked the spell toward him too for laughing too hard.

The end of the term came faster than any of them expected.

On the last day of term, trunks packed, sun high in the sky, the Marauders stood by the train.

James was talking animatedly about Quidditch camps.

Peter had found a licorice wand longer than his arm.

Sirius leaned against the doorframe of the compartment, watching Remus stare at the lake one last time.

“You alright, Moony?”

Remus turned, sunlight catching the faint scar over his temple. “Yeah. I just... don’t want to go back. Feels like leaving something good behind.”

Sirius walked over, brushed his fingers against Remus’ hand.

“Hey,” he said gently. “This isn’t the end. It’s just the pause.”

Remus smiled, slow and shy. “You’re really sappy, you know that?”

Sirius grinned. “And yet, you’re still kissing me.”

Which Remus did, right there on the platform, completely unbothered by the gasps and wolf whistles from nearby students.

As the train pulled out of the station, Sirius reached over and took Remus’ hand.

Together, they watched the castle fade into the distance.

Together, they didn’t feel quite so afraid of the future.

Because they had each other.

[koolades-world]

Congrats on 2k followers! 🥳

Can I request MC say prompt no.15 to Lucifer? MC was mad at Lucifer about something and tried to ignore him (obviously MC failed).

thank you!! first event request and starting off strong

not exactly sure how i'll organize it but if i get enough i think i'll make a separate masterlist for them! if not, i think i'll put them with drabbles :)

enjoy <3

prompt 15 w/ Lucifer

"Mc, I'm sorry." Lucifer trailed after you, wringing his hands nervously. You were silent with your arms crossed and walking away from him with a mission. You looked over your shoulder to give him a lethal glare: something he taught you. His brothers watched the two of you as you led him around the house while you attempted to complete regular tasks. For once, they felt bad for him but were glad they weren't the ones under fire of your scorn. They weren't about to intervene and take the fury themselves.

"I didn't know that the coffee was yours. Really, I'm sorry." He placed a hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, still quiet.

"I'm ignoring you," you said with a sharp exhale. You made your way to where you originally intended to be before your interruption, the library. Lucifer watched as you plopped down on one of the armchairs and grabbed a nearby book. He wasn't sure if it was yours to begin with because he thought he'd seen Satan reading something similar, but you opened it to where the bookmark was and started reading. With a sigh of his own, he left you alone in the library.

As soon as you heard the door of the library shut, you looked up from the book. You could tell from the way he looked at you that he knew that book wasn't actually yours. He could see behind the facade. It was hard to pretend to stay mad at him. But, you seriously had been looking forward to drinking that coffee. You just hadn't expected Lucifer to have been the one to had taken it. Perhaps he'd assumed it belonged to one of his brothers. Later you'd have to find him and apologize.

In the meantime, you meandered through the library, raking your fingertips over the spines of book likely older than you, searching for something interesting. You tried to read the titles, but eventually got lost in thought. You'd never heard Lucifer sound so defeated or genuinely sorry. It just proved how much he really cared. After wandering for you weren't sure how long, you finally selected a book about potions. It seemed interesting enough, and you might learn a thing or two. Besides, it gave you something to talk to Solomon about next to you saw him.

As you made your way back to where you were seated before, you noticed things were not they way you'd left them. A plush looking blanket was thrown over your armchair, and the fireplace was now lit, causing the room to be cast with a warm glow. However, the one thing that caught your attention the most was the mug sitting on the coffee table. Steam curled over the lip and it was in Lucifer's favorite mug. As you got closer, the distinct smell of coffee flooded your senses. Finally, the man responsibly for it came back into the room holding a small plate of cookies. When he saw you, an apologetic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; that was rare sight.

"Ah, Mc. I was hoping I had more time to set up. I didn't realize you were still here." He set the plate down next to the mug. "This is for you." He gestured towards what he'd brought. You couldn't help but smile yourself. The effort he'd went to wasn't something you'd expect out of the avatar of pride himself. He really did care.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for overreacting." You set the book down.

"You reacted in an appropriate way. I should not have just taken what belonged to someone else. There is no need to be sorry." Before he could continue speaking, you threw yourself onto him and pulled him into a hug. You felt him chuckle while putting his arms around you in turn.

"You make it impossible to give you the cold shoulder, you know that, right?" You deeply exhaled, but this time, it was a happy one. His smile turned a little cheeky at your remark.

"Come enjoy your coffee before it gets cold." He took your hand and led you towards the chair. This side of Lucifer wasn't something he exposed often, but you loved it.

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 24 (Tender Sex)

Night's Cavalry x Male!reader

You look back as you walk down the Mistwoods.

Yep, he's still there. The Night's Cavalry Rider, Beor.

How do you know his name?

Because he wrote it down on a scrap of scroll and placed it on your face as you slept for you to find in the morning. Said note also contained a love letter professing his love.

Simp.

You sigh as you keep walking. He's been following you ever since he knocked your helmet off your head during battle. The thing that bothers you most is that he's out of his Lord's territory. You're fairly certain Margit didn't allow his men to travel this far out. You wonder if hes disobeying orders by following you all the way out here.

The moon rises over the land as you decide to make camp. You set up a bedroll and make a fire. You sigh as you hold your hands out to warm them up.

As you sat by the heat of the campfire, you couldn't help but feel uneasy knowing someone was watching. You glance around, trying not to be too obvious, and spot Beor hiding behind a nearby tree.

Damn it, dude! Just come out already!

You roll your eyes and turn away, deciding to ignore him for now. After all, he hasn't done anything harmful yet... just really creepy.

Suddenly, something hit your head. It's a crumbled ball of paper. you picked it up and turned to glare at Beor, who had quickly hidden behind a tree after throwing it. You straighten out the note.

The message read: 'I can't take my eyes off you.'

Good Gods. You had to do something.

Sighing heavily, you called out to Beor, "Alright... Come sit with me." You then added sternly, "But don't be creepy!"

Reluctantly, Beor approached slowly, almost like a timid animal. Once he reached you, he hesitantly took a seat across the fire from you. His entire demeanor reeked of nervousness.

Relaxing slightly, you began rummaging through your bag, searching for some jerky. However, you soon noticed Beor shifting closer to you, his posture tense as he tried to act casually. When you looked up, he was caught red handed, his gaze darting away guiltily.

This guy...

Going back to rummaging through your bag, you finally found what you were looking for – jerky! With a satisfied grin, you lifted your head, only to be startled by Beor practically breathing down your neck. He must have moved while you weren't paying attention.

Startled, you let out an undignified yelp and dropped the food. The jerky lands on some mud. You look at the jerky, to Beor, to the jerky, and finally back to Beor.

Both of you stared at each other silently before he leaned forward and grabbed the dropped jerky, which was now covered in mud. Hesitating for a brief moment, he held it out towards you.

You shook your head and sighed. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Trying to regain composure, you turn back to the crackling fire, hoping to ignore him. To your annoyance, Beor continued to scoot closer until your bodies pressed together.

Awkward silence hung heavy between you two.

Feeling movement against your side, you glanced over to see Beor holding out his closed fist. Curiosity piqued, you watched as he opened his palm, revealing a Miquella's Lily that had been crushed beyond recognition. Wordlessly, he motioned for you to take it.

Without thinking much of it, you accepted the gift.

Inspecting the fragile petals of the delicate flower, you couldn't help but feel touched by such a rare gesture. Although it was crushed, it still held significance. You brought the bloom close to your nose, savoring its faint fragrance.

Silence stretched between you again as Beor simply watched you appreciate his offering.

Nodding to yourself, you carefully place the crushed Miquella's Lily inside your bag for safekeeping. The silence returned, making you uncomfortable enough to break it.

"You can have..." You paused, feeling embarrassed at your own words. "...One kiss."

Beor tensed up and immediately started nodding vigorously, his helmet producing loud clanks with every enthusiastic movement.

Groaning internally, you prepared yourself for whatever was coming next. Beor eagerly closed the gap between you, anticipating his reward.

"Aren't you going to remove the helmet?" You asked curiously.

In response, he shook his head forcefully. Guess that means the helmet stays on.

Shrugging it off, you decided to leave his choice alone. Leaning closer, you press a soft kiss onto his helmet where his cheek would be. Instinctively, his hand clenched so tightly that you could hear the leather of his gauntlet creak under the strain. You pull away.

Good Gods, all you did was give him a peck on the helmet, and this was his reaction? No wonder he acted so skittish; he definitely was whipped for you.

Deciding to test how far you could push him, you leaned in again, this time tracing a line along his helmet with your tongue. Beor visibly trembled, accompanied by a muffled groan from within his helmet.

Oh dear, this man was putty in your hands.

Unfortunately for you, your actions didn't leave you completely unaffected either. Feeling your own arousal building, you felt your member hardening within your pants. Blushing profusely, you tried to reason with yourself.

"I know I said just a kiss," you started hesitantly, "...but..."

At the sound of your voice, Beor's head snapped in your direction, desperate to catch whatever suggestion you may have for him.

Letting out an exaggerated groan, you tried to continue, "You know..."

To your utter mortification, Beor pointed directly at his crotch, seemingly confirming whether that was indeed what you wanted. Covering your face with your hands, you berated yourself for getting into this situation.

Fuck it. You raised your head and gave him a decisive nod.

Beor seemed ecstatic at your response, eagerly beginning to remove his protective codpiece. Underneath, his cock stood proudly erect, ready for action. With a deep blush spreading across your features, you followed suit, taking off your pants and underwear. Your own manhood sprang forth, mirroring Beor's excitement.

Eager to get things started, Beor laid flat on his back, slapping his armored thighs invitingly as if asking you to climb aboard.

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, "You're an idiot," before complying with his request. Straddling Beor, you could feel his hardened length pressing against your ass.

Lifting yourself up slightly, you slammed back down onto Beor's lap, eliciting a muffled groan from within his helmet.

"You better be gentle," you warned him. In response, Beor nodded his head furiously, the clinking of metal echoing throughout the campsite.

Leaning to the side, you retrieved your bag, pulling out a small container of oil created from melted mushrooms. Resting on Beor's chest, you reached back and took hold of his throbbing member, liberally applying the slippery substance all over it.

Beor released a muffled moan as you positioned his lubricated tip at your entrance. With a deep breath, you pushed downwards, impaling yourself on his rigid length.

Letting out a soft moan, you sank deeper and deeper onto Beor's impressive girth. "Fuck, you're so big," you muttered, unable to believe how well he filled you up.

Meanwhile, Beor was clearly enjoying himself, his head thrown back as he panted heavily and trembled with pleasure.

Upon fully sheathing himself within you, Beor let out a low whine of delight. You sighed contentedly, feeling both their combined weight bearing down on you.

Before you could react, Beor shifted positions, wrapping his arms securely around you as he sat up. Now, instead of riding him, you were nestled within his embrace.

Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against his cool, metallic chest, reveling in the sensation of being enveloped by him. Softly, he ran his hands up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

Gradually, Beor began to move within you, maintaining a slow, steady rhythm. Making sure to support your weight, he kept you cradled in his arms as his helmet nuzzled against your face.

Moans escaped your lips as Beor thrust into you with a gentleness you hadn't expected from someone so large and intimidating. You rubbed your aching cock against the smooth metal of his armored abdomen.

As he continued to plunge into you, Beor rubbed his helmet against your face affectionately, reminding you of a cat seeking comfort from its owner. Simultaneously, one of his hands found yours, entwining your fingers together as if they belonged there.

Whimpering as you neared release, you bucked your hips harder against Beor's armor, leaving streaks of precum.

"Sorry....your armor," you apologized sheepishly for making a mess on his black armor.

However, Beor didn't seem bothered by it at all – if anything, he appeared more amused than upset. Using his free hand, he gently petted your head reassuringly, letting you know that he didn't mind.

Reassured by his response, you wrapped one hand around his hip while using the other to resume stroking your own needy erection. Precum continued to flow freely, coating Beor's armor in a sticky film.

Beor released a pleased noise from within his helmet, picking up the pace ever so slightly as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

With a whiny cry, you finally succumbed to your release, splattering Beor's armor with thick ropes of semen. As your orgasm subsided, he gently rubbed your back.

Now that you had cum, it was Beor's turn. Still buried deep within you, he reached behind his back and removed his cape from his armor. Carefully laying it on the ground, he leaned forward until you were lying on top of it.

For a moment, Beor held your thighs aloft, offering them a brief yet comforting massage. And then, without warning, he suddenly changed tactics, pounding into you mercilessly. Unprepared for such ferocity, you cried out in surprise, your moans matching the speed of his brutal thrusts. Holding your thighs tightly, he showed no signs of stopping or easing up.

Still not letting up, Beor pressed your thighs together and rolled you onto your side. From this new angle, he somehow managed to increase the intensity of his relentless pumping, driving his cock deepr into you.

The air filled with the sounds of his labored breathing and the wet squelching of flesh meeting flesh as he continued to claim you.

As the tempo increased, you could do little more than issue a series of whimpers and mews, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your veins. Beor took full advantage of your vulnerable state, leaning over to pin you down with his considerable bulk as he pressed his helmet against your face.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuccckk!" you cried out, unable to contain your mounting euphoria. Every forceful impact of armor against flesh sending fire down your body in waves.

Beor reached his breaking point. With a guttural grunt, he drove himself all the way home, his warm seed flooding your hole. Wrapped in his strong arms, you basked in the afterglow of your shared release.

Breathing heavily, you allowed Beor to nuzzle your face with his helmet.

"You're still a simp," you muttered sleepily, too exhausted to muster up any real zingers.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[alotofpockets]

Spilled coffee | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompts: "Here, let me help." & "Take my jacket."

Warnings: Bad work environment, and a slightly suggestive ending.

A/n: A special thank you to @catasha for helping me with the direction of this fic 💗

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 2.7k

Whoever made it so that you would be in charge of getting the staff coffee before the Monday morning meeting with the big bosses, was currently your worst enemy. The line at the coffee shop was long, and moving slowly. You were looking at your watch every five seconds, knowing that you were going to be screwed if you were late to the meeting. 

Finally it was your turn, “Hi, sorry, I have a big order.” The barista shrugs, “I’ll be here all day anyways, what can I get for you?” You read out all the orders from the note in your phone, and she starts working on them right away. You thank her and with five minutes on the clock, you exit the coffee shop, two trays filled with coffee cups in your hands. 

Out of nowhere someone's body runs into your side, it takes all of your focus to keep the coffees in your hand from spilling. You manage to successfully keep the eight cups upright without spilling a drop, however that couldn’t be said about the person that ran into you. Their coffee dripped from your shoulder down the sleeve of your blazer. The thickness of the blazer luckily prevents the hot liquid from touching your skin. 

You look up to apologize to the stranger. You hadn’t seen them coming, so it might have been your fault, despite the fact that you were the one covered in the spilled coffee. “Watch where you’re going.” He nearly shouts your way before rushing off, the now empty cup thrown on the floor. You shake your head at the angry stranger, as you look around for somewhere to place your trays. 

“Here, let me help.” The voice is coming from behind you. A woman approaches you with napkins in her hand, she must have seen what happened. She takes the trays from your hands, and gives you the napkins in exchange. “Thank you.” You smile at the stranger, her kindness a stark contrast to that of your previous stranger encounter. “Which direction are you headed in?” She asks as you throw away the napkins, and the empty cup that the man had dropped, into a nearby trash can. “The offices in that direction.” You point in the direction of your office building. “Oh, me too. Can I walk with you?” The woman intrigued you, so you told her, “Yes, of course, I am kind of in a rush though.” She smiles and hands you back only one of the trays, carrying the other one for you. “All good, we can talk on the way.” 

The walk was short, you hoped to spend more time with the beautiful stranger, but you also knew that if you were going to be any later than you already were, you would most likely get fired. You arrive in front of your office building, seeing your reflection in the glass makes you sigh loudly, “My boss is going to actually kill me.” Without a second thought the woman places down the tray she was holding on the steps to the building. “Take my jacket.” She was already taking off the jacket before you could decline her offer. Just as you put on her jacket, you’re buzzed into the building. “I’m sorry, I have to head in right away. Thank you so much, and it was really nice to meet you…” - “Natasha.” She fills in. “Y/n.” You say with a smile before rushing in with the two trays of coffee. 

You rush up the stairs, careful not to spill the coffee, as you quickly make your way to the meeting room. The meeting had already started when you walked in. All eyes were on you, “I’m sorry there was a long line.” Your boss sends you a stern look, “Don’t let this happen again.” You nod, and take your place amongst your coworkers. 

It wasn’t until your lunch break, that you realized you had no way to give Natasha back her jacket. Besides knowing her first name, and that she worked in the same general direction, you didn’t know much about her. You sit down at your desk for the first time this morning, opening up your laptop to start working on one of the cases you were assisting on. 

When you felt like you had gotten a lot of work done, you decided to take a short break, stretch your legs and get a snack. You pocket your wallet and phone, and decide to take a small stroll around the building. The weather was nice out, so it was nice that you were able to take a moment to enjoy it. At the small corner store down the block, you head in and grab a few snacks. As you take out your wallet something falls out of your pocket, you reach down to grab it realizing it’s a business card holder. You pocket it quickly so you can pay, and not hold up the line. 

Once you’re outside, you take the business card holder out of the pockets again, hoping that it would maybe give you a clue as to where to find Natasha. The case was engraved with the letters NR, you open the case and pull out one of the cards. You freeze when you read the card.

Natasha RomanoffCEO, Romanoff Resolute Law

The woman that helped you was the CEO of one of the biggest competitors of the law firm you work at. She had walked you to your office, so she definitely knew you worked for the competitor as well. So, you decide to call the number at the bottom of the card nonetheless. 

“Romanoff Resolute Law, this is Laura speaking, how may I help you today?” You pocket the business cards again, and continue your walk back to your office. “Hi Laura, I’m y/n, is there any way you can transfer me to Natasha? I have some items that I need to return to her.” Laura asks to put you on hold for one moment. You’re almost back at your office when she gets back to you. “Thank you for holding, I’m transferring you now. Have a good day.” You thank her and wish her a good day as well. “Hi y/n, glad to hear that your boss hasn’t killed you.” Natasha jokes on the other side of the phone. You laugh, “Yeah, you’re a total lifesaver, thank you. So, since I was in such a rush this morning, I totally forgot to ask for a way to return your jacket. Luckily I found your business cards in your jacket pocket. So, yeah, I was wondering how I could give you your jacket back.” Natasha smiles at the idea of your face when you saw where she worked. “Well, I’m really glad you found a way to contact me. Would you be down for dinner tonight?” Your heart started beating faster at the thought of having dinner with the beautiful woman. “I don’t usually go out for dinner with the competition but I guess I could make an exception for you.” You joke back with her. “Great, well let me give you my personal number so you can text me when you’re done, and I will pick you up at your office.” 

When you were nearing the end of your workday, you were excited to meet up with Natasha. The woman intrigued you, and no matter if this dinner was just a dinner or a date, you knew that you wanted to get to know her better. You were about to text her when someone knocked on your door, “I need you to go over this case, and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning at 9am, with your notes, and possible strategies to take.” You grunt when your boss is out of the door again before you can even object. Not that objecting would help, you had tried many times, saying that it was unreasonable to let you stay late to do the work. 

Y/n: Hey Natasha, I have to stay later to finish up some work. Maybe we can reschedule? 

Natasha: Hi, not a problem at all, I still have some work to do as well. Text me when you’re done and we can see if we can still grab a bite then?

Y/n: Sounds good, I’ll let you know.

An hour and a half later, you have finally finished all the notes on the case and had two different strategies prepared. You shoot Natasha a quick text to see if she’s still down, and you get an answer almost immediately, telling you that she will meet you in front of your office in ten minutes.

“I know a great place around the corner, want to go there?” She asks after you have greeted each other. “Honestly, I’m starving, so I’m down for anything.” Natasha guides you to the restaurant, it wasn’t anything like you were expecting in this part of town, but you loved it. The restaurant had a homey, and warm feeling. One of the waitresses heads in your direction, “Hey Natasha, it’s good to have you back. Table for two tonight?” Natasha smiles in her direction, “Yes please.” The woman leads you to a table near the window and hands you both a menu. “Thank you, Morgan.”

“So, on a first name basis with the staff, that’s impressive.” You start the conversation back up. “Yeah, I’ve spent quite some long nights at the office here for a quick bite. They have the best food around, in my opinion.” She points out her favorite menu items, and you decide to go for one of them. The two of you order, and fall into conversation easily.

Natasha is the first to ask you about your work. “So, what kind of work do you do for the firm?” You set your glass back down before you answer. “I’m an associate attorney.” Her brows furrow, “What is an associate attorney doing getting coffee for the office?” You shrug, “The secretary quit a week ago, and they haven’t found a replacement yet. Somehow I was assigned to pick up those tasks.” Natasha shakes her head, “That’s horrible, you have your own work to do. They can’t expect you to pick up the secretaries' work as well.” It was nice to finally hear someone being on your side. “Yeah, I’ve been telling them that too but they just won’t listen. Honestly, I get so frustrated by them. I’m working my ass off, even performing tasks outside of my job description, and still I’m the only one not getting promoted.” Natasha listens to you rant about your frustrations, having started out in smaller first herself, she recognized the behavior you were talking about all too well. “Come work for me.”

You freeze at her words. “What?” Maybe you hadn’t heard her correctly. “I mean it, you deserve a better work environment. I’ve been where you’re at, sexist bosses, and all. I believe that I have created a better environment over the years, and we’re always looking for passionate and hard working people. Come work for me.” You cannot believe that she is actually offering you a job right now. “You’re actually being serious?” You ask, still a bit weary. “I am. I would hire you on the spot but I don’t have the right paperwork with me.” She sends you a cheeky smile. You laugh, “I cannot believe a spilled coffee led to a job offer at one of the top law firms in the city.” 

“You’re interested then?” Natasha asks after thanking Morgan for bringing out the food. “Yes, yes I am.” You confirm. “I know today has been a long day but if you want I can give you a tour of the office, see if you’d actually like it, and talk about what we can offer if you decide to sign.” You agree to the offer. But first you enjoy the delicious food, and get to know Natasha better. 

At Romanoff Resolute Law Natasha shows you around the office space, while she tells you a bit about the people that work there. You can instantly tell that she knows these employees as people, and not just as people that work for her, and it gives you a good feeling. “So, that’s it.” She says as the two of you enter her office once more. “Great, so where do I sign.” Natasha laughs, “Don’t you want to hear about salary, and benefits before you sign?” She jokes back. Natasha told you that she could offer you a position as an associate attorney for the time being, with a higher income that you were currently getting, just to get to know the company a bit more, and that if things went well you would be promoted to senior associate attorney in no time. She had listed all the benefits, and honestly it was an offer that you simply couldn’t refuse, even if you were wanting too, which wasn’t the case. 

“There’s one more thing.” Natasha says, once she has written down everything you had just discussed. “I hope that you coming to work for me, doesn’t mean that I can’t ask you on a second date because I would really like to take you on a second date.” You smile at the way she has worded her sentence. “I would really like a second date as well.” 

Four months later, you are thoroughly enjoying working for Romanoff Resolute Law, the work environment was great. Everyone looked out for one another, and you all worked together to get extra work done instead of piling it on the desk of one person. Things with Natasha had been going good as well, after a couple of dates she had asked you to be her girlfriend. Your work environment was so great, that the rest of the employees were simply happy for the both of you. None of the employees assumed you were going to get better treatment since you were in a relationship with your boss, which showed how good of a boss Natasha was to all of them, giving her employees the confidence that they were always treated fairly. 

Laura walked up to your desk, “Natasha wants to see you in her office once you have a moment.” You smile and thank her for letting you know. A little over five minutes later you knock on Natasha’s door. “Y/n, hi, come in.” She smiles and points at one of the chairs for you to take a seat in. You and Natasha had always kept a professional relationship on the workfloor, both agreeing that that was the healthiest way for both your relationship and the company. “I know we’ve already spoken about it in private, but for legal reasons, I want to ask you in a professional setting as well. How are you enjoying your time here?” You tell her that you have loved working for the company, and about how you had found your love for the job again. Natasha listens to you with a smile on her face, so happy that she was able to provide you with a healthy working environment. 

“That’s very good to hear. I want to let you know that we are very happy with your work as well. You’ve shown great progress with the clients and your knowledge of the company, therefore I would like to officially offer you the senior associate attorney position.” Your jaw dropped, of course Natasha had mentioned that if things went well, the promotion would be a possibility, but you had not expected it to be so soon. “Thank you so much, you don’t know how much this means to me.” Natasha nods knowingly, “I’ll have Laura bring you the papers later today. Congratulations, y/n, I know you will continue to make me, and the company, very proud.” 

You stand up, feeling like you’re on cloud nine, you are finally able to accomplish your career goal of climbing up the corporate ladder. Before you open the door to leave Natasha’s office, she comes to stand by your side. “Let’s celebrate tonight, I want to show you just how proud I am of you.” She whispers into your ear, her voice low and lustfull. Her words leave you flustered, as she opens her office door to send you on your merry way. 

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[bananadramaaa]

Idk if you’ve got any ideas or backstory for Alastor’s sisters, but I love the designs for them and have kind of taken some ideas about them and ran with it, mostly about the eldest, Adeline, though:

• Adelice was definitely a protector of the whole bunch. Alastor helped protect the younger sisters and worried a lot about his older sister, but Adelice would make a target out of herself to make sure the younger kids faced as little of their father’s bad days as possible.

• Leonore and Bertilda (the younger two) still experience a lot of the family drama, but it’s a little less than what their older siblings do since they try to keep them out of the fire, so while the older two seem to mature way too quickly, the younger two stay kids for a bit longer. This, however does piss off their father, who takes every moment to ridicule them on their inability to act like their older siblings when their older siblings aren’t able to keep them out of the fire.

• Adelice also gives off Tiana from Princess and the Frog vibes. She’s got a Dream and she’s gonna work hard every day to make it happen.

• Alastor Worries™️ and thinks she’s pushing herself too much, taking on the brunt of their father’s anger, taking on so many jobs, and trying to get as much of an education as she can for as cheap as she can get it. So he becomes her Distraction, constantly dragging her off to parties and out drinking and listening to music. Anything to get her to chill tf out.

• He’s also a hypocrite though, considering he takes on a ton of “side jobs” by the time he’s 15 before he starts working in radio to try to help out their maman. He somehow manages to get all the fun jobs though. She’s out here working in restaurants and factories and he’s playing piano at the speakeasy and working at a nearby gator farm during the summers. And even the jobs that shouldn’t be fun, he manages to turn into a blast, like apprenticing at the butchers or working the graveyard shift at the cemetery. He thinks he’s so damn funny, while his bosses low-key wanna strangle him. This somehow makes him more likable as a radio host.

• Eventually, Adelice manages to find herself a nice, rich, Creole man who she and Alastor run through the wringer trying to test just how wholesome of a man he is before she’ll accept his hand in marriage. This man is confused, but he is dead set on winning her heart. He offers her the money to achieve her dream, he offers her the happy and stress-free life that New Orleans won’t afford her, he offers a life where she’s free and not trapped by anybody, himself included, and most importantly, he offers to take her whole family away from their father and the impoverished life that keeps them with him.

• Their maman can’t fathom a life without her husband, but she can see why they’d want to leave.

• Alastor doesn’t want to lose his sisters, but he knows someone has to watch out for their maman and he’s far to attached to New Orleans to leave it now.

• Before all his sisters leave, Adelice jokingly says she’s gonna name a son after him and he politely declines the offer.

• They move to Alabama or something and he never sees them again, but Adelice has a bunch of happy children that she loves who know all about him :)

• Bertilda also gets married, but Bertilda and her husband find themselves unable to have kids so they adopt a cute little red-headed girl and her green-eyed little brother.

• Leonore dates a lot of people before she finds the perfect gal for her and they move in together as “friends.” Their maman was a bit progressive in some ways and taught them not to judge, where most others would do when Adelice and Bertilda don’t make a big deal out of it when they find out about it.

• All three of them keep an eye on the news regarding New Orleans and whatever can be said about their famous radio host brother from far away.

• The only times the lot of them return to New Orleans is when they hear about Alastor’s death and their maman’s death.

I've talked briefly about them in this ask :3 And I really enjoyed reading your version of their story. It seems more wholesome compared to what I have in mind for them (like Adelice definitely won in this one) XD

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! I have been reading you for a long time and would like to ask you something for the first time… The last message flow to the Lethal Company from the Nutcracker was WILDLY SWEET, however, it hurt me from the bracken that was shot through the lytic…. May I ask the bracken and the reader where the bracken constantly goes behind the reader's back…. JUST TO HUG! Someone from the team warns about the danger and the bracken gently takes the reader in his arms to his lair for even bigger hugs!

Bruh you have no idea how soft i am for brackens hfghhs (when I first started playing LC, they were ALWAYS killing me...but now they just like to pop out and scurry away when I look at them, so I consider us to be pretty chill)

Anyways woe Bracken fluff be upon ye <3

.....

Of all the creatures you've encountered during your time with the Company, Brackens were certainly the most complicated.

Even though there's been countless documents and reports of employees scanning, studying, and dying to these aliens...they were still seldom understood. The data on the terminal said so.

There was one in particular who had such a unique behavior pattern that remained a mystery to you.

And he lived on Experimentation, which was supposedly the "safest" moon to land on and gather scrap from.

Most of the time, however, that was a load of bullshit...as you and your crew had many encounters with aggressive lifeforms such as hoarding bugs, Thumpers, spiders, and turrets that were placed in the most inconvenient spots...

Hell, even an Earth Leviathan showed up and nearly consumed your entire ship.

As of right now, though, you were on-track to making the third profit quota's deadline. So a trip to Experimentation was an order, as you could grab minimal loot and still gain enough leftover money to buy some much-needed ship upgrades and tools.

Or maybe new suits or jack o'lanterns.

None of you were good at managing your budget.

But during this trip, you were less focused on getting loot and more eager to see....a certain someone.

Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten about you or mistook you for another random employee.

While two of your coworkers headed into the facility's main entrance and one stayed behind on the ship, you ascended the stairs leading up to the fire exit--armed with nothing but a flashlight and a walkie-talkie.

[Nearby activity detected!]

"Oh come on...can you be anymore vague?" You huffed, slightly annoyed that your scanner displayed the message before you could even touch the damn door.

"Activity" was awfully broad and could mean literally anything was waiting for you on the other side..

It could be a bunker spider or snare flea waiting to drop down on you and catch you by surprise.

It could be a Hygrodere spreading itself all over the floor, anticipating you setting one foot into it before drowning in its slimy body.

It could even be a simple turret ready to turn you into swiss cheese.

However, there's the possibility that it could also be the one entity here who didn't wanna give you a painful death, and you hoped to god you were right.

So you took a leap of faith and entered.

Surprisingly no danger was immediately present, although you did find a lot of good loot inside the room and smiled. "Oh sweet!" You grabbed the rubber ducky and Rubik's cube in the nearest corner, pocketing them. "This should set us way above-"

"Something's behind you!"

"Huh-?!"

All of the sudden, a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back and causing your oxygen tanks to be pressed against the creature's chest-

Wait.

You only knew one Bracken that did that, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my gosh, you scared me! You know you can't keep doing that!"

"Krrrrrr.." The entity purred softly, nuzzling his face against your neck as its leaves rustled with happiness.

With a chuckle, you patted his arm affectionately. "I've missed you, too, buddy. I told you I'd be back."

Knowing it was this Bracken, you felt safer than ever. He had a habit of greeting you this way: by sneaking up behind you like the rest of his species typically did, and attacking you.....not by snapping your neck like a twig, but by embracing and nuzzling you.

Of course, nobody in your crew believed that you've got a dangerous alien predator on Experimentation who always waited for you. Who loved you like a dog and would kill a Thumper for you.

If only they could meet him...but then again, he was shy.

"Don't tell me it's that damn Bracken again...did you tame it or something?"

The staticky voice of your coworker over the walkie-talkie startled the poor Bracken out of the hug, as it dropped you and flared its leaves out, wondering where they were.

"Relax, we're cool." You huffed, annoyed that they spooked your friend. "I gotta conserve my battery so...signal me when it gets close to midnight."

"....fine. Just don't die. Over and out."

After switching off the device, you turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Don't worry. They're far away, so they won't bother us." You removed your helmet for the moment.

He nodded in understanding, crouching down to get a better look at your human features.

For some reason he never minded prolonged eye contact with you--and that was a good thing....otherwise, you would've been dead a long time ago.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, before he suddenly sprung up and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you completely off the ground. "Woah! Hey! Where are we going?" You asked as he carried you out of the room, taking you somewhere further within the facility.

Considering the Bracken knew his way around, you weren't too concerned with getting lost.

On your way to this unknown destination, you spotted a hoarding bug skittering down the hallway, eyeing the brass bell attached to your belt.....only to freeze as the leafy entity glared at it.

Luckily it understood the appropriate time to make eye contact with a Bracken, as it eventually looked away from him and decided to leave for another part of the facility.

It seems most of the creatures were knew who was the alpha.

'Man, whoever's tracking me must be so confused right now..' You thought to yourself as he continued walking.

Eventually you both arrived at a place many employees dubbed the "Bracken Room": a large open illuminated space with yellowish walls that looked out of place in the facility.

After setting you down on the floor, you looked at the Bracken with confusion, wondering why he decided to bring you here....until he brought you into another hug, wanting to sit down and have you in his lap.

You just smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giggling as he tucked his head underneath your chin, wanting to listen to the sound of a human's heartbeat.

Now you understood.

All he wanted was to take you to a quiet, safe place away from all the other monsters and employees. A place where he could have you to himself...at least for a couple more hours, anyways.

You knew the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so you didn't mind keeping him company.

While other Brackens are among the top three reasons employees hated their job...this one made you love it.

You feel so lucky, you'll consider buying a lottery ticket if you ever returned to Earth.

[corruptedcaps]

Wedding Hells

Abby was happy she finally managed to convince her best friend Lindsay to not marry her fiancé James. Abby had learned that James was secretly the head of the crime family in town and was involved in every dirty deal going.

As happy as Abby was, James was pissed. When Abby came over to pick up some of Lindsay’s belongings he made she sure she knew.

“Well if it isn’t the do gooder little friend who tricked my fiancé into leaving me. I hope you’re proud.” He said with venom.

“Tricked her? I told her the truth of who you really are you creep and soon I’m going to tell everyone as well. Your days not behind bars are numbered.” Abby said straight to his face expecting to see him bubble up with rage but instead he broke into a smile.

“You have a fire and strength in you I had noticed before. You’ll do just am fine as my wife instead.” He said walking over to Lindsay’s never worn dress.

“You’ve lost it now, good luck with your life, or should I say you’re 25 to life.” She said turning on her heel. However within a feel feet she felt the white fabric of the wedding dress draped over her head. Within seconds it seemed to come alive and squeeze down her body.

“What... the... hell...” Abby said trying to rip it off her but found it was too tight.

“You see Lindsay never knew about who I really was but she was going to be my second in command in my growing criminal empire. I had big expansion plans but needed someone I knew would be loyal and ruthless. That’s where this magic dress came in.” James said matter of factly as Abby continued to struggle.

The dress had started to push off her clothes and toss them aside as it enveloped her body and sealed her in. She was quickly dressed as a bride to be but that’s when the real changes began.

The dress constricted her stomach making it hard to breath for a second. However Abby soon felt her belly shrink to match the tight waist of the dress. It actually felt good.

“Oh what are you doing to me you bastard! It feels... it feels... so goooood.” She moaned as her chest heaved outward as two massive tits grew outward from her modest pair.

“You don’t think I became kingpin without the help of the dark arts do you? Soon you’ll understand. When you become the Queenpin.” James said laughing.

Abby should of been furious with him but for some reason she was more turned on then ever before. The word Queenpin making her wet everything she thought it.

“Oh fuck I hate you James you big dick fuck! Once I’m free of this I’m going to fuck your brains out! Wait noooo! I don’t want that! I neeeeed that. No this is wrong!” She said moaning again as her conflicted emotions fought each other.

“You’re right, this is wrong but doesn’t it feel so good to be bad? No more morals, no more caring what anyone thinks? Just taking what you deserve, which is everything! Embrace it Abby, embrace being a bitch!” He said, tempting her.

Abby’s body continued to change as her mind was at war with itself. Her skin took on a healthy tan, sexy makeup was applied generously to her face. Her hair became thick, long and luxurious.

If there hadn’t been a mirror nearby that day, she might have saved her soul. As her eyes made contact with her reflection she found herself drawn into the cold, permanent bitch faced, goddess that was staring back. James was right, she thought, why should she not have everything she ever wanted? A beauty like her deserved the world and if wasn’t going to be given it she would need to take it.

As the good parts of her psyche were replaced by her new meaner, more cutthroat persona her struggling ceased. Her posture straighten into a classical pose and all resistance faded. Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she eyed James not with disgust any longer but with desire.

“Abby? That’s such a childish name. It’s Abigail from now on. Do I look like some immature child?” She said arching herself against a wall so she could shove out her butt. James mouth was agape.

“Sweetheart you’ll catch flies looking like that, how about you come over here and use it on more expensive tastes?” She said with a purr dripping in lust. James didn’t waste any time as he quickly grabbed her and kissed her deeply. Abigail moaned softly as he did, loving how he tasted. Lindsay had always said he was a good lover and now she was about to find out.

Removing the dress, Abigail found herself in some sexy white lingerie, a by product of the magic dress. She pushed James onto the nearby bed and posed sexily for him.

“When we fuck darling, I don’t want to hear Abby, or Abigail come from that mouth of yours. I want to hear only Queenpin, understand?” Abigail said authoritatively, making James get harder.

“Of course… Queenpin.” Her growled making her as wet as he was hard. Strutting over to him she took out his impressive cock and lowered her tight pussy on top.

“Mmmm a perfect fit… Kingpin.” She purred as she started to rise up and down.

The next few hours were a blur of sexual juices, screaming and grunting. By the time they were done Abigail had forgotten ever being Abby. In her mind she had always been Abigail, a tough and brutal but also outrageously beautiful crime boss.

James had planned on telling his men to fall in line and treat her like a boss too but she slipped into the role so easily that they were too scared to disobey her. Within a week she had doubled James’ profits with her ruthless ways. While James was a perfectly cruel and calculating leader, Abigail was literally created to be bad. She was the model of evil.

However not everyone was as impressed as James, namely his ex-fiancée and Abby’s old best friend, Lindsay. She confronted Abigail one day on the street and pleaded with her to tell her what had been done to her but Abigail just looked at her coldly.

“Do I know you? Regardless no one speaks to me like that, I am Queenpin of this city and I could have you disappeared like that.” She said snapping her fingers. When she did, her two burly bodyguards seized Lindsay and threw her into the trunk of Abigail’s luxury tow car.

Sliding in Abigail smirked as she heard the muffled banging of Lindsay.

“It’s no use dear, even if anyone heard you they’re all too afraid to say anything. You don’t have that fear but you will soon. Once I break you you’ll be employed indefinitely as my new live in maid and sex slave. You’re exactly what I need to help me prepare for my upcoming wedding.” Abigail said callously as she put on her designer sunglasses and her driver headed towards her mansion.

THE END

[skyof-atlas]

Sandstorms

Pairing(s): Cyno, Tighnari, and Candace x afab!reader 

Warnings: breeding, pet names, fingering, oral, usage of the term “mommy”, biting, dumb-fucked, cuddles, whimpering. 

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple commission for easy Mora. You were coming back from taking photos and gathering relics for the person who commissioned you. (Supposedly they were busy with something else). A sandstorm abruptly swept through forcing you to take shelter. However your savior(s) have come to help.

A/N: describing things is a thing i'm working on and hv no clue how. I imagine it…wait..i can just dra–! 

I can’t write for men…Apologies. I’m a woman enthusiast but won’t mind writing for men. 

MDNI 

words: 2k

Cyno: 

Cyno happened to run into you just before the sandstorm hit. He led you to a cave nearby and said that it was best to stay in until after the sandstorm passes. 

Both of you started chatting about many things. You asked about how he like being mahamatra and he asked you about you life as an adventurer. 

Somehow the conversation ended up about relationships and how you weren't really looking for someone who couldn’t keep the same pace as you. 

He could relate. You admitted that you had a crush on him back when you were both students at the Akademiya.

From there everything is a blur…

“Cy..-Cyno-“ you moaned. His cock buried deep into you as you clawed the floor.  The heat from his body was warming you up more than the campfire. He had a grip on your thighs and refused to let go. 

He kept thrusting in and out. He kept hitting that perfect spot making you see stars and arching your back. The sandstorm didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. 

His grunts and the sound of skin slapping was echoing through the cave. You were close to coming again and he might be as well, due to the now slow and hard thrust he’s doing. He pulled out making you whine and flipped you over on your belly. 

He quickly lifted your hips higher and closer to him, making to face the cold ground. You turned your head to look at him but he pushed your head back to the ground. 

“What the He— nghh- ahh..” He entered his cock back into you. 

Everytime he thrusted you can feel him gently hitting your cervix with how deep he’s penetrating you. 

“I-…I’m c-..coming Cyno..” 

“Go ahead baby..” He was grunting and his breaths were heavier. 

Fuck. You could feel every part of his cock with how tight you were. You came all over his cock as his cum filled you up. He kept it in order to prevent any of his cum from spilling out. Oh dear Archons he wanted you knocked up. 

“Good girl~ taking it all in” Your pussy tightened around him even more hearing those words. Your were tired and sweaty from the heat. It took him a while to pull out because of how tight you were holding onto him. He then made sure to clean you up and let you sleep after that. 

You should bring him with you more often.

Tighnari: 

Tighnari insisted on coming with you and reluctantly you said yes. Now both you were stuck in a cave waiting out this sandstorm. 

“It’s going to be awhile until the storm passes.” Tighnari said as he added more sticks into the fire. 

“Ah. Damn, at least the photos are safe.” You said checking the photos to see if they were actually safe.

“Hey ‘Nari I’m gonna take a nap.” He nodded and you laid down and decided to take a nap. 

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep but you woke up to a whine and grunts. 

“Tighnari?” you called out for him. The fire was slowly dying out but still provided enough light to see his outline. 

You kneeled beside him and carefully turned him over to see him. His ears were flat down and you could tell he was breathing heavily. 

He curled himself into a ball and whimper. 

“Tighnari? Are you ok?” You asked, worried about his health.

“It’s just a lit–little fever…no worries..” He said trying to maintain his composure, but clearly that wasn’t working. You didn’t believe that it was a fever. 

You placed a hand over his forehead to check for his temperature and instead of a kind response from him, he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down. (dear lord). 

“Please…” He practically moaned. The archons were testing your self-control cause you were about to ravage this man the moment he said please. 

This fine ass man was dry humping your thigh looking for some friction as you laid on the ground dazed. You quickly snapped out of it and you pressed your thigh closer to him. 

“What a pretty sight to see.” You could tell he was getting close to his high by the way he was moving slower but humping harder, but you wanted to have a little more fun with him.

You removed your thigh and stripped your pants and underwear off. You made sure you placed it under you. He understood what you were doing, slightly annoyed at you for stopping but he followed as well. 

You laid him down and positioned yourself on top of him. You started off slow, coating his dick with your own cum. You were going painfully slow, watching him writhe around and while like a cute little dog, it got you excited.

 He was getting annoyed with your antics and forcefully grabbed your hips to lift you up and slam you down straight into him. You moaning loudly at the sudden feeling of being penetrated, but how he filled you up. 

Every thrust made you see stars as strings of moans left your mouth. Your hips started moving on their own, at this rate you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“I-I’m close” Tighnari grunted out. He clawed into your thighs leaving you crescent shaped moons which made you wince. 

A few more thrust and you came all over him. It wasn’t long until he came inside as well. His cum felt warm and you could feel it dripping down your thighs as you got off him and collapsed next to him. 

He pulled you closer to him and hugged you. 

All you could hear was a thank you and love you as you cuddled him for the remainder of the sandstorm. 

Candace:

It’s been a couple of hours since this sandstorm started and you took shelter in a nearby cave that had some abandoned stuff. 

You rummaged through the things to see what you could find, not much but there was a couple of books, food, and sticks. You noticed a broken cup and decided to move it out the way. As you picked up the shards and placed them in a box, a small shard cut your hand.

“Fuck! Ow…whatever..” 

You weren't far from Aaru village, but this sandstorm would sweep you away if you tried. 

“Y/N?” You heard someone call your name from the entrance of the cave. You turned your head towards the person calling your name and found Candace standing there. 

“Candace? What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Looking for you of course..I got worried when you didn’t come back and assumed you got stuck in the storm.” She said, as she walked over to where you set up a little fire and sat down next to you. 

“How…? How did you get through the sandstorm???” You were hella confused on how this woman managed to find you in this crazy ass sandstorm.

“My shield helped and I know my way through the desert.” She smiled and looked down at your hand. 

“Your hand is bleeding.” She took your hand and noticed some gauze in one of the boxes near you and took it. 

“Oh. I accidentally picked up a broken vase and cut myself.. No big deal.”

“Y/N! You could’ve gotten an infection. I don’t like when you get hurt, you know this.” Candace spoke with a gentle soft voice that made your heart flutter. You chuckled and looked away embarrassed. 

“Yeah I know…sorry Candace…It won’t happen again” You felt her finish wrapping your hand. You were going to check out your hand to see the job well done, but she grabbed your chin and made you look at her. She stared at you intently, looking at every feature you had. 

“C-Candace??!” You stuttered out. It took you by surprise and your heart rate increased. 

“Making sure your pretty face isn’t injured.” You were now staring at her with a flustered face. 

Your eyes trailed down from her gorgeous heterochromic eyes down to her lips. It seemed like she caught on at where you were looking at because the next thing she did was lean into you barely brushing her lips onto yours. Her hands cupping the back of your neck and finally kissing you. 

The next couple things were a blur as clothes went flying and her mouth latched onto your neck. 

“Nghh—- wa-wait!” She pushed you back flat to the ground. 

“So wet already? Just for me?” You could feel her breath close, you threw your head back and covered your eyes in embarrassment. 

She noticed this and grabbed your arms and placed them near your side holding them there. You could see her look up at you from her position, her eyes were filled with lust and admiration. 

She gave a quick kiss on your thigh before diving into your soaking cunt. 

“Such a good girl for me. What a divine taste.” She ate you out like it was her last meal. Her hot tongue played with your clit, gently sucking and biting it as you bucked your hips into her face and hands tangling into her hair. 

For each passing minute, your orgasm was nearing. Her tongue was doing some damage but not enough for you to reach your high.  

“Please— i need moreee” Your voice came out as a whine. Eyes were glossy and drool was dripping down your mouth. 

“Mmm what the magic word darling?” She asked with a sly smirk plastered on her lips. Her fingers teased your entrance and you moaned out. 

“Ngh-ah– M-mommy…pleaseee~” Now your face is completely red. It didn’t even register in your head what you said until it came out. You didn’t care, all you wanted was to cum all over her fingers. 

Her 2 fingers slipped into you easily and started pumping in and out, hitting that sweet spot. Moans and screams of her names left your mouths like a prayer on repeat. 

She added a 3rd finger and pumping harder but slower, making you go stupid. 

“My good slut~ taking it all in easily~” She said in such an angelic voice. She left marks all over your inner thigh. Pretty purple colored your thighs now. 

“‘ s’good…mommyyy!” Praises flowed out of her mouth which made you even more wet than before. 

All you could hear was the sinful sounds coming from your cunt. Her mouth latched back onto your clit, providing more stimulation. Your brain turned to mush and it was no longer moaning of her name but just babble. 

“A-aahh... Ahn... Candace—!!!”  Her fingers kept moving and her mouth sucked. Not a single moment did she stop. 

“O-oh…AHH- COMING!!” Suddenly the knot burst, coming all over her face. You were near passing out but still felt her fingers leave and her tongue licking up all your cum. 

Your vision was blurring and your body felt like jelly. She sat on your lap and sucked on your neck leaving marks. This women had a mission to mark you. 

“That was a nice appetizer, but I'm ready for the main course~” She said, licking her fingers while smirking. 

Archons bless you because you won’t be able to walk, but it will be all worth it.