#maybe i can finally finish comms

[kozidraws]

[starsiide]

if an artist says their turnaround time is usually a week and that they should be done with your specific commission by the end of the week, then goes nearly three weeks without saying something, is it OK to ask them for an update on your commission? I'm a bit torn on whether I should wait a whole month

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[todayisafridaynight]

fathers day is this month how am i going to inflict psychic damage on myself

[bunnis-monsters]

Sacrificial Heifer

Bull Hybrids x Cow Hybrid!Reader

Commissioned by: @yuriohoe04

WC: 1k

A/N: Only 2 more slots for my commissions rn! Make sure to get them while you can. Once my comms are closed I won’t be opening them again until all my comms are finished ^^

Warnings: dubcon, breeding, lactation, pregnancy, gangbang

🥛 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

It had been a week since the farmer announced that you and your barn mates were ready to be bred for the first time.

At first, the lot of you were excited, some even ovulating and ready to breed. One of your friends had her tail lifted up, and it swayed softly as she sighed.

“Can’t you imagine it, being bred by a handsome bull? Do you think they’d want to settle and become mates?”

You rolled your eyes, swatting her thigh with your tail. “Not likely. Most bulls are just looking for a heifer to breed and toss aside for the next one. You’ll be lucky if they give you more than a few minutes of your time.”

An older cow had warned you many times that bulls liked to play with young heifers’ hearts, and that if you wanted to live a peaceful life on the farm, then you’d just breed and go about your day.

That’s what you told yourself out of fear of getting your heart broken… until the day finally came to breed.

All the other heifers were filling themselves up, brushing out their hair and tidying themselves up. The pheromones wafting through the barn were thick, almost stifling.

This all changed when the bulls walked in. They were big, bulky, and honestly? Terrifying.

They walked in with confidence, eyeing the new heifers with keen, sharp eyes that told you they were more than experienced when it came to breeding.

“Alright, who’s first?”

All the heifers shivered at the authoritative tone of voice. They had never been spoken to in such a way. The farmers they’ve had in the past had always been gentle, giving their bottoms hearty slaps as they herded them into the barn.

These bulls didn’t look like they even knew what the word gentle meant. They knew how to work with an inexperienced heifer, how to breed them into submission and stuff them full of cum.

You looked on with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The bulls were definitely handsome, and despite their rough way of speaking, the way they tried their best to look a bit smaller told you that maybe they weren’t as bad as you had been told.

Before you could retreat to observe them from the back of the stall, you were shoved out into an open space, landing in the arms of one of the bulls.

“A volunteer. Cute one too.”

You yelped as your ass was groped, the bull squeezing it lightly before inspecting your face. “Little heifer, no need to be nervous. Gonna put a calf in you, alright?”

“Quite small, ain’t she?”

Another bull approached you from behind, lifting up your tail to get a better look at your fat ass. “Perfectly plump too. Got them child bearing hips… mmm…”

The feeling of a cock rubbing against your panties made your body freeze up. They both cooed at you, already able to sense your pheromones spiking. “Someone’s begging to be fucked silly, huh?”

One of the bulls traced circles over your clothed clit, laughing as you blubbered our half hearted pleas for them to let you go. “Hush, heifer. You’re soaking my hand, gotta breed that fat cunt of yours.”

Before long you were being hoisted up, a big fat cock pushing against your pussy. It was huge, and you were sure it would tear your body in two!

“Sure this little thing can take it?” another bull asked, this one playing with your clit as the other two bulls prepped your hole. “Smallest heifer in the herd I’ve seen so far…”

“She’ll take it.”

And with that, he rutted into you, stretching your fat pussy out as he bounced you on his cock. It was painful at first, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but your body was built for this. You were made to be bred by bulls, to get pregnant and produce milk and calves.

You felt your pussy gush as he fucked into you, biting into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cream on my cock, lemme hear you cry out for me.”

You were passed around by the bulls, feeling so full and happy. As you were bent over and groped by another bull, you let out the prettiest of moans.

“God, that’s it, that’s a good heifer. Take my load, fuck…”

A bull took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling as another mounted and bred you thoroughly. Before you were a virgin, and now you were being fucked by so many different cocks that you could barely think.

They rolled you onto your tummy, lifting your ass into the air and eating the cum out of your pussy, wanting to give you a nice and fresh creampie and hoping their’s would be the load to impregnate your fertile womb.

All the other heifer’s watched in awe and jealousy as the bulls kept their attention on you, unable to spare a second glance to the others. You were so cute, a small, chubby little heifer that was perfect for beating calves. How the hell were they supposed to breed anyone else when you were bouncing on their cocks?

By the end of the breeding session, your belly was distended, stuffed full of cum. None of the other heifers were bred because the bulls were way too busy doting on you after they all got a turn.

Now, as your belly began to swell with a calf and your tits got heavy and full, the bulls couldn’t help but cum all over and in you. Your pretty mouth and pussy was always keeping someone’s cock nice and warm.

Drinking milk from your fat and heavy tits was the best part of their day. They had to test your milk to make sure it was high quality… and they also just wanted to suck on your nipples.

After all, you were their perfect little breeding cow. None of the other heifers compared to you, none as sweet and soft and pretty. If anyone had a problem, they could take it up with the bulls.

You sat on your bed, being fed strawberries as your belly was massaged.

Maybe that older cow was wrong, because these bulls adored you with their entire heart… and you were excited to be thoroughly bred again once you gave birth.

You were a cow hybrid after all, and needed to produce lots of milk and calves. Being a breeding cow was your job…

And you were damn good at it.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143

[lottiies]

THE S. STANDS FOR SLUT

⇢ Leon’s been a horndog over every single one of his coworkers except for you. Your pent up anger finally pays off after you finish a mission with him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, fucking in a forest, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 1k

NOTE: i won’t be able to get any other fics out until like after a week from now. feel free to send ideas for bots…kind of need some. hopefully the video as a header works in the tags if not i’ll change it (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

MASTERLIST

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Employee of the month? Nah. More like (wannabe) whore of the headquarters. That’s what you deemed Leon to be.

Okay, maybe he didn’t fit your description perfectly, though. It’s not like he got any pussy or dick because they all turned him down. Either way, you couldn’t stand him. The man was practically flirting with anyone who had a developed frontal lobe and yet he had never once made a move on you.

Had it been any other man, you’d be over the moon about it because hello? Who wants a guy who’s trying to get into everyone’s pants? But it’s Leon…the same one who makes a sticky river gush whenever he glances your way.

The fact he didn’t even compliment you made you upset. It wasn’t in a depressing ‘what do they have that I don’t?’ type of way. You were pretty pissed, actually. Maybe he was trying to tick you off on purpose.

Being sent on a mission with him was your last straw.

The tension was palpable. He was such an asshole for messing around with you even during a life threatening scenario! Pinning you against surfaces like you were some damsel in distress, which he knew you weren’t, he’d smirk all smugly when you shoved him off and scowled at him. All the banter got him riled up. What a woman you were. His type to a tee. Felt blood rushing south whenever you handled your gun with expertise.

Like, he wanted to fuck you raw until you needed his help to walk but he also wanted you to slap him around and yank on his hair until he was reduced to a begging mess. Talk about duality. One thing at a time, he must be patient.

He’s not a moron when it comes to your feigned indifference at his antics. If he lacked observational skills, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. You gave him an ego boost. It’s almost like he could see the steam coming right out of your ears whenever he was buttering someone else up, bonus points if it was the receptionist.

Sometimes you got the urge to smack his earpiece comm. Only then would you be spared from Leon's pathetic attempts at flirting with Hunnigan. She’s not interested, Leon!

Anyways.

Mission accomplished. Chopper? Late like usual, what’s new? Here you and Leon were outside in the middle of fucking nowhere, sitting on a log like you were on a camping trip. Yeah, well the tent and high spirit is missing.

You were on edge, and Leon’s idle whistling broke you. God, what a tiny thing to get upset over.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You were so done with him. Why was he sitting so close to you when there was tons of space on the log? His knee was brushing up against yours.

Leon let out an amused huff, giving your forehead a flick just to spite you.

“So uptight, bet you haven’t gotten dicked down in a while. That’s what you need to blow off some steam.”

“You’re one to talk, when’s the last time you got laid? Last time I checked, your attempts at whoring around have been completely unsuccessful.”

“Ah, so the princess has been keeping tabs on me? How cute. Consider me flattered.”

“I wasn’t.“ You rolled your eyes, glaring at him. “It doesn’t take much effort to figure it out, you just wanna get your dick wet.”

“What, are you obsessed with my dick or something? Jealous?”

“No! Ugh…you’re so fucking gross, Leon.” Giving him a shove on the shoulder didn’t move him at all. He curled a hand around your waist and brought you closer, his lips right against your ear.

“Maybe I don’t have much game, but at least I’m not being a little bitch about it. You just need someone to fuck all that sass outta ya, sweetheart.”

Okay. Wow. Maybe his voice was his superpower because that’s all you could focus on now. Were you really in a forest if you could no longer hear the rustling of tall and mighty trees or the distant buzzing and yapping of insects and birds?

And maybe his voice was hypnotic too because you don’t know how the hell you ended up on your fucking hands and knees. Ouch, your fingers hurt from the way they dug into the dirt but the way Leon was hitting your sweet spot made up for it.

His right glove was all damp from the way he had ground his palm against your clit just a couple minutes prior.

You were both still clothed, just having your pants down enough so you could get to the point.

There was a reason Leon liked you so much, you weren’t all that high maintenance, and you were actually fun. Would any of those receptionists with freshly manicured nails and keratin treatment on their hair be okay with getting dirt and leaves all over them? No! They’d want to fuck in a lavish bedroom with candles and shitty romantic songs playing. Instant boner killer.

His dick wouldn’t get hard for any woman who wasn’t you after this. He didn’t wanna waste a single load, no, they all had to be dumped into you.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just asked. Could’ve been going at it like rabbits ages ago.”

“I like it better when you don’t talk.” You gritted in response, reaching a hand back to slap the one he had on your hip. He liked the way you bit back, yeah, it had him twitching inside you.

“That right? Your pussy has a mind of its own then, got allllll nice and tight around me right now. She’s begging for me.”

You had always been Leon’s wet dream, but that fantasy felt nowhere as good as the real thing. He has no issue letting you know, either, he’s always had a big mouth.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, bet I’m the first one to stretch it all out.”

“Been looking at your tits all day, don’t they hurt after bouncing from all this running?” He snaked his hand up your shirt and squeezed your chest, rolling the flesh between his fingers before giving one of your hard nipples a pinch.

If you weren’t losing grasp of reality you would’ve been able to notice the distant sounds of rotor blades whirling around.

“Hear that, sweetheart? We gotta hurry.”

Yeah you’d rather die than be found getting fucked by Leon Slut Kennedy. You always thought those facial expressions pornstars made were unrealistic, but now you were mimicking it without much effort. If you snapped a shot of it you’d be famous on Twitter. How embarrassing, or maybe flattering?

“Atta girl, you like it nasty huh?” His hand wrapped around your throat like it was your personal collar and his murmured growl of your name had you seeing stars. He came inside you, pumping you with everything and slapping your ass before pulling your panties up so his load was trapped with you.

What a bastard.

The chopper ride back to HQ was uncomfortable with his cum plugging you up like a damn toy.

“You, me, hotel room after this?” Leon asked all cheekily as he nudged your shoulder, too busy looking at the way you had your legs crossed instead of the pretty view outside the window.

Maybe he’d finally get a good old slap to the face from you like he deserved while you rode him.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi again 😊 You suggested i could send another prompt, sooo… maybe you & Jason have been together awhile, and you’re kidnapped by (choose your villain) and Jason is worried and frantic but trying to not show it of course, and negotiating for your safety? Ends up rescuing you of course, in whichever way you prefer, and then they find comfort in each-other 💗

I haven’t had time or energy to work on my WIP lately so this is very lovely and gratifying 😂👌🏻💗

aghh that's the worst! wishing you luck on your wip!! i'm glad you like these <3 requests are open for jason, dick, and MAWS!clark kent btw!

this one is very batfam focused hehehe. ft dramatic ass jason and his surprise kidnapped fiancé lol.

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: violence, kidnapped reader, reader is pushed off a building for a moment but they're okay dw <3, batfam feels, jason being a protective bf, bruce being a GOOD DAD! c:

****

"Actually, if we're being honest, if anyone has the most trauma in this family, it's—"

Batman grunts. "Really, Spoiler, not now."

The comm line crackles as Stephanie sniffs. "Fine. Stay in denial."

"Bats."

Every bat and bird in Gotham goes still.

"Hood?" Barbara asks carefully, already tracking his comm link.

"Oracle," he says, clipped. "I'm gonna get right to it: I need a favor. Can you help? Yes or no."

"Little Wing, where have you been?" Dick asks. "We've all—"

"Shut up, Nightwing," Jason growls. "Either you help me or not. Which is it?"

"We'll help you, Hood," Bruce says, voice washing over Jason like a balm.

Jason takes a deep breath. It's okay. He'll find you. Batman always beats the bad guys.

He fiddles with his jacket zipper. Moments tick by. Dick remains crouched on a rooftop. Damian is similarly poised.

"My..." Jason swallows. "My... fiancé's been taken."

The comm explodes with noise. Jason winces and digs the bud out of his ear for several seconds.

"Fiancé?!"

"You're getting married—"

"When was this—"

"Who are—"

"Enough," Jason growls, finally shoving the bud back into his ear. "I don't have fucking time for this. Yes, I am engaged, and they've been taken. No more questions."

"Tt. You are engaged? Impossible. Batman, clearly someone has hacked the line pretending to be Hood," Damian says, folding his arms.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, demon bird, I found someone crazy enough to marry me."

"Little Wing, I—I'm really proud of—"

"Shut up!" Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. This was a bad idea. You're in trouble, and Jason intends to tear Gotham apart to find you, but involving his family? Has he really stooped so low...

Deep breath. His focus is you. You're the only person that matters.

"Look, I'm telling you because Oracle's tracking me anyway, and B would snoop until he figured out who I'm really looking for, so it's easier to just tell you. But make no mistake: you aren't my family, and you won't see us again after tonight."

Bruce's throat tightens. His cape flutters in the wind.

"Very well," he says after a couple beats. "Last known location?"

"I'm sending you the address now. I've retraced my steps a hundred times though, and I can't—" Jason grits his teeth. He can't tear up or break things, not again. "Fuck. I can't fucking find them, B. I... I don't know if-if maybe I'm too late—"

"You're not," Dick says automatically. "We'll find them, Little Wing. We'll bring them home."

****

Your head is on fire.

It feels like there's a thousand needles pelting your skull. Whatever you were drugged with, it's hard stuff, and it hasn't worn away yet.

You look up; you're gagged and tied to some kind of support beam. As your vision clears, you see that you're in one of the new high rise-in-progress. Only the skeleton of the building has been completed because if Bruce Wayne isn't involved, construction takes forever to complete.

Faintly, you recall Jason mentioning something about a construction company leaving half finished projects across the country and using them as havens for criminal activities.

Yeah. This is not good.

"Where the fuck is he?" The voice echoes across the concrete floor foundation.

"Mike, we sent—"

"I don't give a fuck what you did; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag. Your head spins when you open your eyes again.

Who's not coming? Your rescuer? Or somebody worse than your kidnappers?

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead.

"Fine," Mike barks in the adjacent room. "If that hooded psychopath doesn't show up, we'll just dump this one. That'll send a message. Prepare the explosives."

A door swings open, and you flinch. You cower, shrinking from the figure.

"You better hope he shows," the guy growls, and cocks his gun. "Your boyfriend is the only reason you're still alive. It'll be such fun to watch him fall to his death, don't you think?"

You try not to show your swelling panic. How does he know about you and Jason? And you have to warn him. Explosives. Jason's walking straight into a trap, without backup, because you know he'll be alone. He always works alone.

Mike sneers and waves the gun around.

"Oh, yeah. I know your secrets. In bed with Gotham's biggest crime lord. You must be his favorite. I can see why."

"Mike!" someone shouts. "We got company!"

Mike's eyes blaze cruelly. "Showtime. You're coming with me."

You thrash as hard as you can because if there's one thing Jason taught you, it's to always fight back.

Mike backhands you hard enough to send you sprawling. Your hands are bound, so you can't catch yourself, and you hit your head on the concrete. Blood pools in your gums.

"Try that shit again, bitch," he snarls, and hefts you up.

He drags you up a flight of stairs. Your head throbs, and now your jaw aches. You're too dizzy to try to fight back again.

You end up on the roof, which is a miasma of beams and wooden lattices. Wind cuts through your face, and you close your eyes so they don't water.

"Hood!" Mike crows. "Wonderful of you to join us!"

"Wish I could say the same," Jason says, and your heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

You start to shout through your gag because you have to warn him. It's a trap, he'll kill you both—

Mike wraps his arm around your throat and squeezes. Air stops, and you choke on your cries.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, and you know he wants to say more, but he's trying to protect you. "Let them go and maybe I won't break every bone in your body."

"Oh, don't worry. You two will be reunited soon. What is it they say? Love blinds you?"

"Michael Cassidy," a new voice says, deep and deadly. "Let go of the hostage. We can talk this out."

You crack open your eyes. Is that... Batman? And Robin? And... Nightwing? What—

The arm around your throat tightens and you gasp for air as you start to choke for real. Oh God. Batman's going to die because of you.

"You involved Batman?" Mike snarls, now truly irate. You feel yourself being dragged backward, toward the edge. Your stomach rolls in warning.

"Take it easy," Batman says, palms up. "We can work this out."

"You can't play fair?" Mike shouts. "Then neither will I!"

The wood beneath your feet is gone. You're falling.

"No!"

But no sooner than you fall are you caught. Warm arms encircle your waist, and you're jerked to a stop before you can fall more than a few feet.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

Jason is connected to a grapple. At the roof edge is Batman, Nightwing, and Spoiler, all holding the grapple.

You shake your head, screaming against your gag. Bomb. Bomb!

"'S alright, 's alright, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

You scream urgently through your gag, butting your head against his helmet. Jason pulls your gag half free and you choke out the warning.

"B-bomb!"

His grip tightens. "Shit. B, get out of here! Place is rigged to blow!"

The first explosion goes off. Jason meets your gaze. He's terrified, you can tell, but he tries to mask it.

"Let go," he says.

"Wh—"

"He'll catch you," Jason promises. "I trust him."

And then he lets go.

Several more explosions go off. The building begins to crumble. Dust and heat sweep across your face and lodge in your already sore throat. You scream, in the air for a few more seconds.

Then you crash into gray body armor. A cowl, a cape.

"It's alright," Batman gruffly says. "Hold on tight."

Batman swings you both to safety on an adjacent rooftop. You watch him dive back into the flames. It isn't long before Jason swings out of the smoke, then the others. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it to the side, arms open.

You run and bury your face in Jason's neck, clinging to him. He hugs your tightly and rubs your back, saying over and over, I got you.

You sigh and slacken out of exhaustion.

"I've got you, baby," he says, though his voice is wet this time. "You're safe."

Jason checks over your wounds. You see the rage cross his face several times at every bruise and cut on you. He doesn't let go of you even after he's done. He's shaking too, perhaps more than you, as he cuts your binds and completely removes your gag.

The Bats land gracefully behind you. Jason stiffens as they do.

You kiss his jaw. His gaze returns to you.

"You saved me," you say.

"I always will," he says. "Always."

"Are either of you injured?"

Batman suddenly swishes to your side. You blink, startled.

"Nothing serious," you say. Jason grunts unhappily at that. You manage a smile. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much."

Jason nods stiffly. "Thanks, Bats."

Nightwing smiles, face soft with affection. "'Course, Hood. And, uh, Hood's fiancé. We're there any time you need us."

"That's right, chum," Batman says. The obvious care in his voice makes you ache.

Jason had called his family. His family with whom he has a plethora of problems. He'd called them for you.

"Jay," you say, voice thick with emotion. He seems to understand instantly.

"I'll always bring you home," he vows, cupping your face. "Whatever it takes."

He pulls you to him like he can't bear to be away from you any longer.

You squeeze his wrists. "I know. It's okay, Jay. I'm okay."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that the Bats still have not dispersed. Spoiler looks like she's about to melt into a puddle. Nightwing is the same. Even Batman looks a little sentimental.

Robin is the only one scowling, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hood, are you not going to introduce your fiance-we-just-learned-existed-tonight?" Robin asks, arms folded.

Jason huffs. "Not with those manners, demon brat."

You roll your eyes and extend your hand to Batman. You say your name, smiling.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," you say.

Batman laughs, and it sounds a little fond. It's also kind of weird to hear Batman laugh. "No sir necessary. It's equally an honor to meet the person my son is marrying."

Jason makes a choked little noise. You beam.

"Well," Batman murmurs. "We'll let you two get home. We'll track down the rest of Michael's thugs—"

"Come to the wedding," Jason blurts.

Batman stills. "Me?" he asks carefully.

"Everybody," Jason says, tugging you into his side. "Uncle Clark, Aunt Diana, Selina, your ten thousand kids, everyone."

He turns to you. "I-I mean, as long as that's okay with you, baby."

"Oh, Jay. It's your family. Of course I want them to come." You lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

"Little Wing, c'mere!"

Nightwing tackles Jason in a hug, then drags Robin, who protests loudly, in by his cape. Spoiler snaps a picture from the sideline.

"Now that's adorable," she says.

Batman looks at you. He removes his cowl, and you gasp quietly. He smiles, and it makes him look decades younger. You guess he hasn't smiled much since he lost Jason.

"Thank you," he says.

You tilt your head. "For what?"

"For bringing him back to us."

You duck your head. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, that wasn't me—"

"Bruce," he corrects gently. "And it was. You played a bigger part than you know. You saved him. Thank you."

[gotchibam]

Finally finished sketching all the ko-fi doodles & comms from my backlog!! 🥹 Which means I'll be able to start w/ the new batch of comms soon! (btw there are still a few slots available)

Annnnd I just turned 30! Officially in the thirties gang now :o

I've been making lots of pokedoodles for ppl for years and now I kinda want to receive doodles too 👉👈...... if it isn't too much to ask..... since it's my bday, maybe you guys can drop by on my straw page & leave me a doodle? ;w;

[defectivevillain]

every tomb, every sea (spit the blood from your teeth)

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

summary:

Your head throbs and you bring a hand up to your temple, frowning when your hand comes back spotted with blood. Your ears are still ringing and a dull ache travels through your cheekbones and across your jaw. ALERT: This PDA (Personal Digital Assistant) has now rebooted in emergency mode with one directive: to keep you alive on an alien world.

The reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

word count: 7.5k | ao3 version

author's notes: This was supposed to be Hannibal-focused, but Subnautica quickly took hold of my brain and didn’t let go. Sorry not sorry. This is super self-indulgent and I am not ashamed.

This will not be canon compliant, because I haven’t finished the game yet. (Please please please don’t spoil it for me, I will cry.) PDA messages (except for the last one) are taken directly from the game! And to maintain biblical accuracy (haha), I wrote the beginning from the game’s opening scene.

warnings: mentions of cannibalism; blood/violence, ocean exploration (swimming, strange creatures); prolonged isolation; derealization, depression, hopelessness, survivor’s guilt, and contemplating life and death; panic attacks, hyperventilation, dry heaving; and some spoilers for Subnautica. Just… the trauma of crashing on an alien planet…! Being alone for so long..! It’s so crazy!111!

During your time on the Aurora, you never expected it to malfunction. And maybe that was optimistic of you but… hell, it’s a brand new-ship! As an employee of Alterra, you were privy to the majority of the ship’s construction process. The organization was unusually methodical with this particular ship’s development, ensuring that everything was up to regulation before dispatching the vehicle. You suppose you can understand that—after all, there were about 150 passengers designated to the ship. Even a commercial giant like Alterra can understand the potential fallout of losing that many lives—especially ones tied to the company’s inner workings. 

Safe to say, when you first heard the alarm sound off, you thought it was a drill. That notion was quickly dispelled, however, when you noticed how your companions scrambled about to ensure their safety. It seemed that this was no drill. A voice coming from the comms urged you to abandon ship, striking fear into your heart and forcing you into motion. You raced down the hall and towards the nearest escape pod, climbing down the ladder and finding the nearby seat before pressing the button to launch the pod. Restraints immediately swept down over your shoulders, anchoring you to the seat. Immediately, you felt the pod shake as it separated from the Aurora; when you glanced up, you could catch a glimpse of the ship through the hatch in the ceiling. For an awful moment, everything seemed to fall to a horrible silence. Frozen, you watched through the hatch as the sky was suddenly overtaken with a rusty crimson—loud booming sounds confirming your fears that the Aurora was exploding. You grasped at the restraints with sweaty hands as the pod continued to tremble and shake around you. The fire extinguisher wrenched its way off of the wall and the cover for the control panel flew off, bouncing around the space as the pod hurtled down through the sky with increased speed. Alarms blared and red lights flashed menacingly. You could hardly take a breath before the metal lid of the control panel suddenly rushed towards you, sending a harsh pain through your head and submerging your vision in an overwhelming darkness.

The first sensation you register when you wake is an uncomfortable heat stinging your skin. As you blink your dry eyes open, you realize that you’re still strapped into your seat—restrained as fire roars along the pod. You frantically press at the button to release you, and it takes a few moments before the device finally lifts from your shoulders and leaves you to get off of the seat. Smoke has already settled in the air, and the flames have overtaken nearly half of the pod already. You don’t think you have much time. Coughing, you make a grab for the fire extinguisher—which lies precariously near the fire—and attempt to extinguish the flames. Within a minute, the flames have died down—leaving you to take in the tarnished lifepod around you. The control panel is shooting sparks and the smoke is slowly fading from the air. Taking a deep breath, you pull out your Personal Digital Assistant (PDA) and tap on the screen with a shaking finger. Immediately, the screen turns blue and displays a message: 

[BOOTING IN EMERGENCY MODE]

[LOADING…]

100%

Your head throbs and you bring a hand up to your temple, frowning when your hand comes back spotted with blood. Your ears are still ringing and a dull ache travels through your cheekbones and across your jaw. 

PDA ALERT: You have suffered minor head trauma. This is considered an optimal outcome. 

You blink dazedly and grab at the ladder in the middle of the pod, needing to regain your balance. You’re not sure how long you stand there, the far too calm programmed voice of the PDA droning in your ears. Moments later, when spots stop dancing before your eyes, you regard the PDA in your hand and read the alert. 

PDA ALERT: This PDA has now rebooted in emergency mode with one directive: to keep you alive on an alien world. 

Back on the Aurora, you mainly used the PDA to monitor your health—while occasionally glancing at the Databank feature to do research on your intended destination. You never explored the device at length, because you didn’t think you would need to. Of course, you regret that now—as you’re scrolling through the device’s interfaces and attempting to learn how to use it. As the alert mentioned, it appears that you’re stranded on an alien planet. Dread coiling in your chest, you finally glance up at the hatch on the ceiling of the pod. You spot a flash of movement—likely a bird of some sort—but it is quickly lost in the overwhelming canvas of blue sky. 

PDA ALERT: Please refer to the databank for detailed survival advice. Good luck. 

You huff a wry laugh. You’re going to need all the luck you can get. Shaking your head, you swallow hard and start climbing up the ladder. While you’d like to hide in your pod forever, you know that you’ll need to survey your surroundings for resources. The pod has a radio that is definitely damaged; one fabricator for crafting raw materials into items and another for medical kits; and a limited amount of rations—with only two bottles of water and two nutrient blocks. It’s abundantly clear to you, in that moment, that the pod isn’t meant for long-term habitation. Taking a deep breath, you ascend up the ladder and stand on the ceiling of your pod, only to find vivid turquoise waters all around you. You look around frantically, only to realize that there’s no land in sight. The only disruption from the crystal waves of the ocean… is the fiery, crumbling wreckage of the Aurora. Smoke billows from several areas of the ship, and flames race across the surface. You feel something tighten in your throat and you choke on a breath, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to come to terms with the horrible reality you’re faced with. 

PDA ALERT: The Aurora suffered orbital hull failure. Cause: unknown. Zero human life signs detected. 

Zero signs of life. You fall down to your knees and grasp at the wet railing at the top of the ladder, fighting for breath. Your chest feels tight, your eyes burn, and you’re overcome with emotion. One thought cuts through all the static in your mind: you have no fucking idea what you’re doing. You can hardly survive in optimal conditions! How in the hell are you going to survive in the middle of the ocean, with no food or clean water in sight? 

You desperately scan the horizon for other escape pods, but all you can see is the ocean. There’s no sign of any human life, except for you. The thought is nauseating enough to make you dry heave. You cough and hack until you regain your breath, then get to your feet once more and attempt to push away your spiraling thoughts. Sitting around and moping won’t do you any good. You suppress the urge to curl into a ball and descend down the ladder of your pod to survey its condition. Besides the broken control panel and radio, everything appears to be functioning properly. You decide to look through your PDA again, paying special attention to the section titled “Survival Package.” You read through the attached “Survival Checklist” and attempt to remain calm, despite everything in you screaming that you aren’t ready for this. 

It’s a good thing first aid is listed as the first item on the list—you had entirely forgotten about your head wound. You take a first aid kit from the medical fabricator and apply it, successfully getting rid of the pulsating feeling that was concentrated in your temple. The steps after that are fairly self-explanatory, but it’s nice to have a formal list to hold yourself accountable. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you take a deep breath and look around the pod. There are a few existing blueprints on your PDA—one of which is a repair tool that will supposedly fix the radio. The radio is probably your priority right now, although you have a gnawing feeling deep in your chest that a rescue party won’t arrive. Unsurprisingly, you need several materials to make the repair tool—titanium, silicone rubber, and cave sulfur. You don’t have the faintest idea how to get any of those items, but you suspect they must be contained in the seemingly unending ocean you landed in. 

Heart racing, you climb down the side of the pod and take a deep breath, before submerging yourself under water. Thankfully, it looks like your pod landed in a relatively safe and shallow area. There are sand banks that rise and fall in peaks and cliffs, with brightly colored coral scattered about their surfaces. You spot a grey-brown rock nearby and swim up to it, surprised to find that it yields copper ore when you strike at it. The moment you receive the copper ore, your PDA scares the life out of you by providing commentary. 

PDA ALERT: Copper is an essential component of all powered equipment. Your probability of survival has just increased to unlikely, but plausible. 

You shake your head in disbelief, gritting your teeth and swimming back up for air. Thankfully, you were provided a standard oxygen tank. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last very long—forcing you to return to the surface rather frequently to regain your breath. Now that you have copper, you just need titanium—which is supposedly a common resource here—and silicone rubber. The silicone rubber can be crafted from creepvine seeds from the nearby plants, and you manage to swim over and grab some without disturbing the scary creature that resembles a crocodile. Along the way, you find scraps of metal that can be converted into titanium. By the time you’re back in your pod, the sun has set and you have all the materials you need to make the repair tool. It takes you a few minutes to craft everything correctly, but soon enough, you have a repair tool.

The device is rather cool, you have to admit. It stitches things back together at an atomic level, which is pretty fascinating to watch. You don’t have much time to devote to admiring its power, however, as you focus your efforts on sending a distress message through the newly-repaired radio. Once that’s done, you eat a bit of one of the nutrient blocks and sip on some water. Soon, food and water are going to be your biggest problems. While you remember the Aurora having a rather large cafeteria, the food was likely destroyed in the fires. 

You’re soon torn out of your thoughts by a blinking red light on your radio. Hope brewing in your chest, you jump and immediately press the button to play the message you just received. 

RADIO: This is Aurora. Distress signal received. Rescue operation will be dispatched to your location in 9….9….9….9…9 hours. 

You stare ahead at the radio in disbelief. A helpless, disbelieving laugh wrenches its way out of your throat. Surely that must’ve been a glitch. There’s- there’s no way help will take that long to arrive. Right? You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood, before deciding that you’ll save that problem for the morning (whenever that is). From what you can tell, the planet has periods resembling day and night. Admittedly, you’re exhausted. And, if a small part of you hopes that this is all just a dream, and you’ll wake up in your bed on the Aurora… 

You dispel the thought and take a seat, before breathing in through your nose and closing your eyes. Despite everything that has happened—and the practically unquestionable fact that your chances at survival are horrifyingly low—you fall asleep.

In the days following your landing, it’s easy to lose track of time. You have no idea how many days you’ve spent on this planet… and you find that you don’t really care to keep track. You’ve been forced to focus on your own survival, especially as you slowly but surely make your way out of the biome you landed in and explore nearby. Once you craft a Scanner, you’re able to get blueprints from fragments of technology you find on the sea floor—in addition to scanning flora and fauna to learn more about them. The Scanner is very helpful, as you’re able to learn what plants and fish are edible without testing them yourself. 

You’ve crafted some other useful items with the help of the fabricator in your pod, including a rebreather to conserve oxygen, fins, and a radiation suit; a flashlight; and a waterproof locker for increased storage. Ultimately, you haven’t had much time to focus on crafting items—you’ve been busy ensuring you have enough food and water. Not to mention, since you repaired your radio, you’ve received a few transmissions from other life pods—which has led you to explore the waters as you search for survivors. 

The first lifepod you come across is Lifepod 3. They shared their coordinates through the radio, expressing the desire for someone to rescue them. Fortunately, their pod isn’t far from your own—and you swim over to the area with the guidance of your PDA, only to realize that Lifepod 3 is completely underwater. It rests innocuously on the edge of a small cliff. As you swim down, wary of the Stalkers that explore the waters nearby, you feel inexplicably apprehensive. It isn’t until you’re at the pod’s level that you discover the source of your apprehension. Lifepod 3 appears fine from above, but one side of the pod has been torn apart. There is no one inside—absolutely no sign that anyone even inhabited it, aside from the abandoned PDA resting on the ground and the metal scraps scattered throughout the sand. Needing air, you grab the PDA and swim up to the surface. Breathless, you tread water and look through the abandoned PDA, only to find a voice log from the two inhabitants. They were discussing a Seaglide—one of the forms of transport that you only have half of the blueprints for. There was a clear sense of fear in their voices, even as they evidently attempted to remain calm. 

You don’t know how to handle this revelation: the utter absence of any survivors (or even their remains)… the giant hole in the Lifepod, as if it had been swiftly ripped apart by some large creature… You feel sick to your stomach. Somehow, you manage to make it back to your pod. Honestly, you don’t remember swimming back from Lifepod 3. The wreckage is burned into your mind’s eye. Every time you blink, you see the pod getting attacked by a Leviathan—a class of organism you recently learned about after seeing the Reefback Leviathan in all its massive glory. Thankfully, the Reefback Leviathan—a positively humongous creature reminiscent of a squid—only feeds on plankton. You have an awful feeling whatever attacked Lifepod 3 had a much more voracious appetite.

Against all odds, you manage to keep moving forward in the wake of what you saw. It certainly isn’t easy, and you’re sure that the feelings you’re compartmentalizing will come rushing back eventually. But you have no choice. Survival on this planet takes up nearly all of your energy. You don’t have time to think about all of the death and destruction. You can’t slow down, can’t stop even for a moment. Otherwise… you fear you’ll lose yourself in the tragedy of it all. 

And just as you think things can’t get worse… they do. You’re forced to watch from afar as the Aurora experiences quantum detonation, sending the reactor into a critical state and releasing radiation into the nearby area. Soon you’re crafting a radiation suit and proceeding as if things are normal. According to your PDA, the radioactive fallout from the ship will have irreversible effects on the ecosystem. Even worse, there’s nothing you can do right now. You would need a hundred fire extinguishers to quench all of the flames on the ship. Not to mention, when you do attempt to get close to the Aurora, you’re intercepted by a Leviathan organism. You have no idea what it is—all you know is that it’s extremely long with four pincers, deep, soulless black eyes, and sharpened teeth. You just barely manage to escape the thing’s grasp by swimming along the surface of the water… but you take some damage in the process. The creature bites your arm before you can swim out of range. Even after you’re safely concealed in your pod, your heart is positively pounding out of your chest. 

You’re beginning to find that you’re very lucky, for a variety of reasons: your pod’s landing at the surface, first of all; not to mention, you sustained minimal injuries in the crash. The other survivors weren’t nearly as fortunate, you slowly learn. With each new radio transmission, you adventure out to the depths and find another Lifepod utterly wrecked and torn apart. You have yet to find a single living person. Instead, you’re forced to chase after ghosts—scavenging the wreckage and collecting the abandoned PDAs. 

At some point, you have to wonder: is any of this worth it? Is all of this effort really worth your survival? Moreover, why are you the one who has survived so long? What supernatural force decided that you get to live, while all of the other passengers you’re finding are banished to increasingly cruel fates? The survivor’s guilt you feel only increases with each empty Lifepod you find. The names begin to blur together. You can’t even count how many pods you’ve come across at this point—the thought is just too soul-crushing. And try as you might to avenge each person in your continued fight for survival… sometimes you just feel as if it’s all pointless and hopeless. 

That guilt is only exacerbated by a rescue party’s arrival into the atmosphere. You reach a nearby island where they’re supposed to land, only for alien technology to attack the ship upon its entry into the atmosphere. You’re forced to watch once more as a ship of innocent people explodes before your very eyes. 

Ultimately, you find yourself getting trapped in a never-ending routine. First, you find a clue that points to something that could help your chances at survival: a blueprint for some device or weapon, another Lifepod, a promise of rescue. Then, you investigate—only to realize that the device isn’t as useful as you thought, that the Lifepod is just a tattered shell, that rescue isn’t coming. Then grief wins. Eventually, something in you fights off the sadness and pushes you to keep going. You find hope in something new… and the brutal cycle continues. 

Somewhere along the way, though, you start to lose the feeling of hope altogether. After all, there are only so many times you can hope for something that will never happen. It’s a devastating blow to your psyche to constantly have the promise of survival ripped away from you. To protect yourself, you stop hoping for the best and start expecting the worst. This leads you to become some sort of husk of your former self.

Even the prospect of a new island isn’t enough to trigger any positive feelings in you. You just feel… empty. The beautiful scenery doesn’t provoke any sentiment in you. You don’t feel anything as you trudge up the hill that almost appears to have a worn footpath. You don’t feel anything as you enter a base and find an empty desk, an indoor growth bed, and a fabricator. You don’t feel anything as you search through the abandoned PDA and listen to the voice logs of more people who likely died in the time since the recording. 

Then a shadow passes across the floor at your feet, and the void of emotion in your chest is swiftly replaced with bone-deep fear. You tried to be cautious as you explored this island—looking around at the nearby wildlife to ensure there wasn’t anything that could hurt you. Was there an unseen predator lurking in the shadows? Your PDA did say that there were subtle signs of life here, but you had dismissed the message. Your heart thundering in your chest, you slowly turn around—only to find a shadowed figure in the doorway of the base. 

You flinch hard, hitting the wall behind you as you instinctively backpedal. When the figure takes another step closer, you immediately brandish your survival knife and hold it up threateningly. In the first few days since the crash, you wouldn’t have seen a need for the survival knife past retrieving samples from coral and creepvines. However, it’s been a long time since then—and you aren’t so foolish as to think that this alien planet will welcome you with open arms. You don’t belong here and you never have. Each day in this world, in these crystal waters, is an act of defiance against the aliens that reside here and the creatures that roam the dark depths.

The figure takes another step forward and the light from the base illuminates their face, revealing… another human. The two of you stare at one another in shock and disbelief. The man stares at you, eyes roaming up your body before finally settling on your face. You scrutinize him in the same regard, taking note of his unruffled appearance. He’s wearing a dive suit just like yours, but his hair is perfectly coiffed—as if he hasn’t gone underwater in several days. His eyes are a warm brown, with flecks of crimson. There’s something in his expression that you can’t quite pin down—and it unsettles you enough to hold your knife out in an attempt to keep the distance between you. “Don’t come any closer,” you warn him. 

PDA ALERT: Your vitals are rising past normal levels, despite your stationary position. Take caution and move to distance yourself from the stressor. 

Curse your PDA and its unfortunate timing. The stranger only seems amused by the commentary, as he holds his hands up in mock-surrender before posing a question. “How did you get here?” He asks, eyes flitting about the base as if looking for signs of your forced entrance. It takes you a few moments to realize that he’s asking about your arrival to the island in general—not necessarily his base. 

“I swam,” you respond sarcastically. Very little of your frustration is pointed at him, but venting about your situation to another living, breathing human takes some of the pressure off. You take a deep breath and try to summon some better manners. He’s the only human you’ve come across so far—and he may be the only one you ever find. You need to make a decent impression if you want to collaborate with him. “From my pod.” You explain. 

“You landed in the ocean,” he states, his brows climbing up his face in evident disbelief. 

“The flotation device was activated, so I landed on the surface.” You answer. You’re not sure why you’re telling him so much, especially when you don’t exactly have a reason to trust him yet. Of course, you want nothing more than to have another human to work with—but this is a matter of life and death. And hell, you haven’t met the aliens of this planet yet. Maybe they have shapeshifting abilities. The thought sounds rather ridiculous, you have to admit. 

“Are you from the Aurora too?” The man questions, confirming your suspicions that he was stranded due to the ship’s crash—just like you. 

“Yes,” you admit. Really, the crash is the only logical explanation for a human’s presence here on this planet. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” the man continues, staring at you intently. He seems surprised that the two of you didn’t cross paths on the Aurora. But there were more than 150 people on it, after all. You tell him as much and he seems to accept that explanation. Although, secretly, you’re wondering the same thing. 

The man’s gaze flits down to your knife, nonverbally questioning if you still need to be pointing the weapon at him. You shrug, not making a move to lower it. Instead, you gesture at him expectantly. “What’s your name?”

“Hannibal Lecter,” the man answers. Somehow, that name seems to fit him. “And yours?”

You tell him your name and he hums, staring at you as if trying to fit your face to your name. Eventually, you grow tired of his staring and continue walking through the base. Surprisingly, within a few moments, you hear Hannibal following behind you. You try to ignore him, but it grows increasingly more difficult. 

“Might I ask what you’re looking for?” Hannibal asks calmly. At least, you think he’s trying to sound calm—but there’s an air of annoyance veiled within his tone. You continue surveying the space, looking for anything that could be useful. You’re not going to take anything from him—you just want to ensure that you’re gaining all of the necessary resources from this island. 

“Anything, really,” you remember to respond, after you turn around and nearly crash into him. You quickly take a step back, beginning to suspect that Hannibal enjoys these small displays of intimidation. You really can’t be bothered by your own pride, so you decide to let him have them. “Is this your base? I saw others…” You trail off, crossing your arms over your chest. Something about this conversation is making you feel more vulnerable than normal. You attribute it to a lack of human contact.

“This one is mine,” Hannibal replies. You can sense he’s nearing the end of his patience, so you eye the door and plan to walk out of the base. Hannibal doesn’t move from his position in the doorway of the multipurpose room, forcing you to brush past him as you walk by. With your back turned to him, you roll your eyes and walk back outside. 

But again, he’s following you. At first, you pretend that you don’t notice. But your patience is quickly worn thin, and you turn on your heel to level him with a wary glare. “Why are you following me?” 

Hannibal remains silent, but somehow, you can sense what he’s thinking from the minute signs written across his form: the furrow of his brow, the pull of his lips. 

“This isn’t your island,” you feel the need to assert. “None of this is yours. We’re not meant to be here—you should know that.” So stop following me around, you think to yourself. But even this harsh dismissal is not enough to dissuade Hannibal, as he instead smiles an infuriatingly patient smile and continues to follow behind you.

Eventually, you give up on trying to get him to go away—and the two of you manage to strike up a conversation (albeit an awkwardly stilted and tense one). You both recount your descents from the Aurora, your crash landings on this planet, and the ensuing efforts at survival. Hannibal had landed near the island that the two of you are standing on now, which provided him with a safe haven from the sea monsters that lurked nearby. You trade blueprints and stories with him, finding his presence to be comforting. It’s been so long since you’ve had someone to talk to. And even if Hannibal seems a little off for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint—even if he is kind of a smug bastard—he’s still someone to talk to. Plus, he seems to warm up to you once you’re done exploring the bases on the island. The two of you even catch a few fish and cook them up for dinner. 

“You should stay,” he suggests after your shared meal, “It’s late.” His eyes flit to the water and you immediately understand what he’s trying to say. You don’t want to test the creatures that roam the night. You take a shuddering breath in, pushing past the inexplicable stab of fear that strikes at you, and decide to take him up on the offer. Hannibal seems strangely relieved after you agree, as if he was genuinely concerned that you wouldn’t survive the night. That’s an entirely fair concern to have, of course. You’re just surprised that he’s worried about you in the first place. You didn’t exactly get the impression that he liked you. 

Since you decide that you’re spending the night, you create a simple outfit using the fabricator in his base and remove your dive suit. Despite its efficiency in the water, the suit is incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in. With that in mind, you’re quick to change into your new clothes: a simple tank top and sweatpants. Hannibal returns moments later, only to stare at you silently for several moments. Growing self-conscious, you ask him what’s wrong. 

The man is still quiet. Then, suddenly, he lurches forwards—breaking the distance between you and looking you up and down. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, until you realize that he’s cataloging the scars littered across your arms. Hannibal seems to take particular interest in the bite mark on your shoulder—from the Leviathan creature that you later learned to be aptly named a Reaper. 

“How did you get this?” He breathes, his hand coming to grasp your shoulder. You barely resist the urge to flinch. You’ve grown to forget casual human contact in the wake of the crash. Physical touch since then could only be categorized as harmful: fish biting at you with sharp teeth, serpentine creatures brushing past you… 

“A Reaper Leviathan,” you respond after a second. His eyes are fixed on the mark with worrying intensity. “I was trying to get close to the ship.” At his silence, you continue. “...It’s kind of ugly, I know.” You grimace. 

Hannibal’s thumb brushes along the mark and his eyes meet yours. “It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, before turning his attention to the scar once more. “A mark of your continued survival.” You’re not sure why he seems so fascinated by it. Maybe he hasn’t seen a Reaper before? You can’t be sure. You suppose you’re just fortunate that he didn’t seem disgusted by the scar. 

“If you say so,” you choke out, lost for words. A prolonged silence settles over the space. 

“I don’t have a spare bed, I apologize,” Hannibal then says, his eyes falling to the room down the hall. It must be his bedroom, you think. This notion is confirmed when he motions for you to follow after him, as he leads you into the room. It’s a fairly nondescript room, with a desk off to one side and a bed in the corner. You must’ve missed this room when you were exploring before. 

“It’s fine,” you say, when you remember the conversation. “I can sleep on the floor.” That’s really the last thing you want to do, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Nonsense,” he says with a shake of his head. “You can sleep here.” He says, moving to sit on the right side of the bed and leaving the left half for you. 

You stare at the space he’s left for you for a long moment. Eventually, your fatigue wins against your apprehension. “...Okay.” You acquiesce, moving to sit next to him and tugging the covers over you. For a moment, the air falls silent. As you’re closing your eyes, you’re struck with the urge to maintain some semblance of mundanity. “Goodnight.”

“Pleasant dreams.” He responds, his voice sounding weirdly thick. You’re not so deluded to think that the emotion in his voice is because of you. But, regardless, you think you understand the sentiment: the confirmation that you aren’t completely alone in this world is reassuring and overwhelming in equal measure. 

Despite these thoughts and countless more musings, you manage to drift off in no time. When you open your eyes that morning, you find Hannibal staring at you. You freeze and stare at him back, unsure of what to do. After a moment, you inch backwards slightly and he lurches forward, his jaw suddenly snapping open to reveal rows of impossibly sharp teeth. You scramble backwards with a scream caught in your throat… 

…and fall to the ground, jolting awake. Your mind still can’t tell the difference between the waking world and a nightmare, and you feel yourself backing up to the corner of the dark room—holding your hands in front of you in a futile attempt at protecting yourself. Your chest is rising and falling with frightening speed, making your vision blur around the edges. You blink and suddenly Hannibal is kneeling before you, slowly inching his way closer until he’s wrapping his arms around you. You desperately want to resist the gesture, but your pride and dignity went out the window the moment you crashed on this planet. Relenting, you tilt your head down and close your eyes; Hannibal’s hand comes to bracket the back of your head as he presses you to his chest. You’re clutching at him, desperate for the sole reminder of your humanity. 

You’re not sure how long Hannibal remains on the floor with you. All you know is that, at some point, your back starts to hurt. You murmur that the two of you should probably get up, and Hannibal tentatively backs away and pushes himself up to his feet—before offering you a hand. After he pulls you up, the two of you head back to the bed. You’re briefly hit with embarrassment, but the feeling fades when Hannibal reassures you that it’s alright. You have no choice but to believe him as you close your eyes and fall asleep once more. 

Despite the events of that first day, your time with Hannibal on the island is rather uneventful. You’re lured into a false sense of security by the lush plant life, the calm breeze flowing through the trees, the sparkling waters, and his glittering eyes. You start to think that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright. You find yourself spending more time on the island and less time at your pod (although you do return whenever you need resources)... But it isn’t all good. There’s still one glaring problem: you can’t sleep well. 

You were sleeping just fine back on your pod and at your base, but here, you spend hours lying awake as Hannibal sleeps next to you. There’s something in you that just doesn’t want to let your guard down in front of him—some irrational part of you that sees him as another predator, just the same as the ones in the ocean. And at least those monsters are straightforward—they have sharp teeth, so you know to avoid them. But humans are entirely different. They’re all appearances. Hannibal looks non-threatening, but you just can’t shake away that initial wariness. It’s cruel of you to doubt him, after he went out of his way to comfort you that first night. But you can’t quite suppress your skepticism—especially considering it’s a survival mechanism that has gotten you this far. 

Wariness, coupled with a restless energy, leads you to step out of his bedroom late one night. You don’t really have an endgame—you just want a breath of fresh air and a break from the shared darkness that always seems to be watching you. Outside, the air does feel nicer. A blanket of stars covers the sky and the waves gently lap at the shore. You rub a hand over your face, turning on your flashlight and navigating down the admittedly treacherous and unstable hillside. You’re not sure where you’re going; you just want to keep moving. Being stationary is dangerous on this planet. To survive, you have to be moving constantly—whether that’s swimming through the water or prioritizing the tools and devices you need to make with the fabricator. If you’re not making progress, then you’re convenient prey. 

You soon find yourself near the main base of the island and, after a moment’s hesitation, you decide to explore the multi-purpose room. Back when you first arrived, Hannibal kept a very close eye on you as you investigated. With him breathing down your neck, it was hard to concentrate. Now that you’re alone, you find that you can really take everything in. As you look around, you remember the abandoned PDA you first found on the island, which contained a voice log from the Degasi Crash. The three survivors built the bases around the island (including the one you’re exploring right now). You weren’t able to glean anything else from the voice log, as it mainly contained recordings of the three of them bickering. You would’ve found that humorous in a different situation. 

Regardless, that’s the extent of your knowledge regarding the island. But as you remember how Hannibal ushered you through the bases with puzzling rapidity, you have to wonder why he was so eager to get you out of them. Did he think you would stumble upon something incriminating?  You contemplate the thought as you look around the space, eyes catching on an abandoned PDA near the far wall. You download the data and listen to the attached voice log, which only makes your heart thud against your ribs quickly. 

[DATABANK]

Degasi Voice Log #5 - An Unwelcome Guest

PAUL: There was a new arrival to the island yesterday. He says his name is Hannibal Lecter. 

BART: He says he came from the crash. He’s a little…

MARGUERIT: Suspicious. He’s very suspicious. 

PAUL: Eccentric is probably a better word. 

MARGUERIT: No, he seems dangerous. 

BART: How do you know? 

MARGUERIT: Trust me, kid.

BART: I’m not a fucking kid!

PAUL: Settle down, you two. 

PAUL: We’ll take him in. He could have valuable information.

MARGUERIT: I don’t like this.

PAUL: Frankly, I don’t either. But we don’t have much of a choice, do we?

MARGUERIT: Are you fuckin’ kidding? Of course we have a choice! We can just march down there and take him on! Three on one, no way he’s winning.

PAUL: (sighs)

The transmission clicks off. You stare at the wall in front of you in disbelief, your stomach stewing with anxiety. That gut feeling that something was off… You think you know what it is now. After all, the voice log posits that Paul, Marguerit, and Bart were the first ones on the island. Hannibal arrived after them. That timing is extremely significant. Assuming the three didn’t leave the island, there is only one explanation: Hannibal did something to the three survivors. After all, you haven’t caught even a glimpse or trace of any of them in your time on the island. 

Despite your misgivings, you decide to give Hannibal the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the three survivors went off on a sea expedition and encountered a Leviathan or a predator. That is certainly possible—although you think they would’ve mentioned a departure on the voice log if they truly planned to leave. You contemplate the thought as you explore the remainder of the main base. When you turn the corner into a new hall, your eyes catch on a murky crimson-brown stain splattered across the wall… and all of your excuses fade into obscurity. You’re forced to accept the truth: Hannibal killed the three survivors from the Degasi Crash. And judging by the utter lack of remains, he either buried them, threw their corpses into the ocean, or… ate them. 

You contemplate running away—heading for your escape pod, taking your Seamoth and moving as fast as you can. But you know you won’t be able to escape Hannibal. The two of you have the same blueprints and nearly the same resources. He has a Seamoth too—and it wouldn't take him long to notice your absence. Plus, there are countless organisms throughout the seas that could kill you in the blink of an eye. The ocean isn’t exactly any safer than this island—and that’s truly a terrifying thought. 

And there’s a notion that’s even more frightening: do you even want to escape him? Hannibal is the only other human you’ve come across in your time since the crash—and you’ve discovered countless pods scattered across the sea floor, in varying states of disarray. The chances of finding another survivor are astronomically low. You’re sure you would be able to get by on your own—you survived before him, and you can survive after him. But would that be good for you? There’s only so long a person can go without social interaction. 

“What are you doing?” You nearly have an out-of-body experience at the sudden noise. Heart racing, you freeze in place and keep your back turned to Hannibal—attempting to hide the abandoned PDA you’re holding from his view. “It’s late.” He says. 

You study the expression on his face and decide you’re too tired for mind games—too exhausted to attempt to conceal your knowledge from him. Perhaps that’s a stupid decision, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. If he kills you, he kills you. You don’t have much to lose—or live for—at this point. Knowing that, you turn around and meet his gaze head-on. “You killed them.” You say, your voice eerily calm. “Are you going to kill me too?” 

Hannibal tilts his head curiously. Despite the fact that he’s blocking the doorway, he doesn’t seem to be holding any weapons. There is no outright violence in his posture—only defensiveness. “No,” he promises. There’s nothing but sincerity in his expression, but you still can’t trust it. Besides, he completely ignored your accusation—which is essentially a confirmation that he did murder the Degasi survivors who found this island before him. 

“How can I trust you?” You decide to voice your thoughts. 

His brows furrow. The muscles work in his jaw as he contemplates the question. “I find myself craving your companionship,” Hannibal eventually answers. Judging from the way he’s looking at you, he desires more than your companionship. But, in an alien world with no realistic promise of rescue, that’s the least of your concerns. 

“And because of that, you won’t kill me?” You ask, not bothering to hide your doubt. 

“I have only my word,” Hannibal says regretfully. He takes a few steps forwards, effectively breaking the distance between you. In the blink of an eye, he’s pressing a survival knife into your hand before pulling your hand—and the knife—to rest against his neck. “But, should I go back on it… you may end my life.”

You can feel Hannibal’s pulse—steady and unyielding, even when faced with the truth. His posture is open and honest; there is no trace of deception anywhere to be found. Somehow, that is just as frightening as his lies of omission. Your heart thunders in your chest as you come to terms with what he’s offering you. It’s not what you want. You don’t want to kill him. After managing to shake off his grip, you return your hand to your side and level him with a cautious look. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” You say. Your voice sounds foreign. And your word is binding—you don’t plan to kill Hannibal (even if it would be karmic). You need him and he needs you: a symbiotic relationship like that of the Reefback Leviathan and the plants living on its back. The thought is distressing. You don’t want to have to rely on anyone else—don’t want to have to let down your mental defenses, only for your trust to be swiftly broken. 

It would be extremely stupid of you to kill one another, and you both seem to know that. That recognition sinks into the air between you, clinging to your clothes and sending a prickling feeling across your limbs. 

As if coming to an unspoken agreement, Hannibal nods and turns on his heel, evidently retreating back to his bedroom. Somehow, you can sense the intended meaning behind the gesture: he trusts you enough to let you explore on your own. You poke around the base for a bit longer, but at some point, you have to accept the inevitable and return to Hannibal’s bedroom. 

When you return, you find Hannibal’s eyes are closed as he lets out calm breaths. Swallowing hard, you try to be as quiet as possible as you move to take the left side of the mattress. After a few moments dominated by indecision, you pull the covers over you and recline back against your pillow.  Left to the rushing waves and your racing thoughts, the loneliness you’ve been fighting off suddenly comes rushing back, leaving you to feel terribly alone as you lie next to the only other human on the planet. 

endnotes: Oh, you thought that being stranded on an alien planet meant you were safe from cliche tropes like sharing a bed? Mwahahhaha… never!!!

I know clothes aren’t a thing in Subnautica, but just let me have it… I just wanted unresolved tension and scars and intimacy… don’t look at me like that.

Sorry not sorry for the somewhat uncertain ending. I tried writing a happier one, but it just felt off. On the off chance that I do write another chapter (no promises), I wanted this to be realistic. I felt it wouldn’t be right if the reader just brushed off the fact that he killed three people. That’s a big deal! They need time to process that.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[blingblong55]

Vienna- 141

This is based on a request.

Angst, death of a character, (spoiler it's you, lol), suicide, MDNI

Slow down you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then if you're so smart tell me Why are you still so afraid?

Backstory:

It was you, the one who always had everyone's backs. But who had yours? It was you, the same one who would get cleaning duties because you took the blame for everyone. The team couldn't sleep? oh, there you go at 4 am, 4 hours of sleep and making coffee and tea for your team. One time, a mission went wrong. Evac would happen with or without you five. So, you gave yourself up so the team could make it to evacuation. They held you for 15 hours before you ran off and back to base. Now, the question is, did your precious boys mind it? no, they swore you were already on base, no need for a search. To this day you have nightmares about that day. You cry, and make it known you are going through some form of PTSD. Not once have they mentioned getting you help.

Soap was sick one time, real sick. So as you naturally did, you made soup for him and prepared him for a nice time. And stayed up all night, despite having other duties in the morning. This was your life. And yes, maybe they didn't reciprocate their love or affection, but who could blame them. You were so young. In their eyes, you were just trying to fit in, trying too hard and for them, it just wasn't going to happen. But that was who you were. A natural giver and lover. That was until this past mission.

Too bad, but it's the life you lead You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need Though you can see when you're wrong You know you can't always see when you're right 

--------

Things to a turn for the worse. Your own mind messing with you. And you finally did it. Like any coward, you killed yourself. It was fast and sudden. But soon you had met your Vienna.

It was a rookie that found you. Lying on the floor with the gun in your hand. They called Price. He naturally thought it was a prank from Soap. So he stayed in his office until his men were on the other side of the door. "Sir, they...they really did it" Ghost spoke up. Some regret and shame on his voice.

Turns out, you didn't have any family but them. That's why you showed them all of your unconditional love. At the bar, the four men told stories about you. "R/n once told me about some place, and said they wanted to visit it. It was their dream." Gaz said a sad smile on him as a drink warmed up in his hands.

"Vienna." Soap and Ghost were mentioned at the same time. It was true. You always wanted to go there. It brought comfort and you always gushed about it.

---------

You got your passion, you got your pride But don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true (Oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

There you were, hiding from the enemy with Ghost and Soap, Gaz on comms. "I want to go somewhere after this place.." you mentioned. "Where?" Ghost asked, somewhat annoyed you disturb the silence. "Vienna, I think it's beautiful. It seems kind and clean. I love it!" you smiled, just thinking of what the place must be like. The men stared at each other and discarded the small talk.

There was something, you know? It was peace, heaven, it was home for you. You ran from Austria as a kid because of your dad. And never returned once, it was the story you never told anyone. Because no one stopped and listened.

--------

It was just 2 days before your funeral. The men woke up, no coffee or tea set for them. Price didn't have the newspaper and a cigar by his keyboard that morning. Gaz woke up to no hash browns. Ghost was surprised there wasn't any chamomile, or earl grey on his mug. It was a strange feeling when Soap realised it was you who finished his papers, the same ones Price would make him turn in at the end of the day for rookie reports. Everything was silent. The telly is off, no morning show or new magazines by the coffee table.

It was so...empty. It wasn't comfortable or warm. You did all those things for them. You made sure that at least 10 minutes before they woke up, you would heat the common room so they wouldn't get too cold. One time you wiped all the tables and floors and made sure the telly was on the morning show so Ghost and Gaz could stay updated on their local news back at home. You walked in and they watched, telling stories about local bars the spokesperson would mention. So you kept doing it, every morning.

What was so strange was that they had depended on you for little things. Price opened the fridge, and to his surprise, the little lunch bags someone had made were not there. All the men swore it was a fan of them who did all these things, that maybe because they made all the rookies train yesterday, their biggest fan couldn't do their tea, or little lunch. But no, that was all you. You just never mentioned it to anyone.

All those little things were your love letters to them. The warm food, the warm mornings. The feeling of home and safety. That was all you. They had become unspoken words of adoration, devotion and love.

They all sat there. Soap regretted laughing at you. He hated how every time they all made fun of how you were, you'd shut down for a while. Your eyes were teary and your lip quivering. He cried thinking of all the stupid times they all belittled you.

Slow down you crazy child Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

-----------

You were having a bad day, it was usual, especially on the job. The team noticed how you were singing a song, it was so childish to them so they made fun of you for it. For you, it held such a deeper meaning. It brought you to the old you. The 6-year-old you, your parents holding your hands as you splashed around puddles. Your dad singing you that song over and over. How he had reached down and kissed your nose. Held you near his chest as he and your mum sang the song for you.

"Oh poor baby, go cry to mummy and daddy yeah?"

the men laughed. "Toughen up soldier."

"Probably has a whole bed filled with teddies," Soap said.

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

Soap would regret all his words. Hated how his last talk with you he pushed you away. "Not fucking now, Jesus, stop being so annoying!" You just nod and walk away. He didn't know but he was the last one who saw you alive that evening. Ghost hated how he always pushed you around like his personal punching bag at times. Price hated the times he yelled at you, how you looked at him with such teary eyes. He was the first man to yell horrible things at you. Gaz hated how every time you ate alone, he would pass by you and eat with other people. How you still were so kind to him despite his actions. The ghost of a smile on you as you two stared at each other before he told the soldiers a joke about you.

Oh, how they wished they showed you how much you meant to them. If only they had just 5 more minutes with you. How much they wished to have you for your birthday. Fuck, they didn't even mind remembering it. One look at your file and there it was. Your birthday and death date are all the same, just decades apart. They hated it. How much they had treated you like shit on your day. How soap never told you how much he appreciated you. Ghost and his stories, Gaz and his wild adventures. And price, oh price, how he wished you could've stayed longer.

They knew you reached it. You made your dreams come true. Vienna couldn't wait any longer. By this time tomorrow, you were back in Vienna, buried with your mum and dad. How the sky was probably blue, as their hero returned to their forever home. You would never grow up. No more dreams, no more a lover to hold. Just you in a coffin, away from the last people you loved like a family.

And you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want or you can just get old You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (oooh) Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you?

A/n: so...I hope it was angsty enough for ya! Also, I know this is probably not the song that had ya all inspired, so for that sorry

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[billybatsonbrainrot]

Can you do 4 or 9 please?

Part 2 of Goodbye Marvel: What does the Justice League think about this? (Part 1 is the post below this)

After Billy decides to quit being Captain Marvel, he realizes that means he's quitting the Justice League as well. No more monitor duty, meetings, patrol, and going on missions that lasts for days, sometimes weeks. He never realized how much time being Captain Marvel took from him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't have much of a personal life before any of this; he spent more time as Cap then he did himself. Well, it was time to change that.

Billy doesn't outright quit the League. He knows it would be easier to tell them, but he doesn't want to confront them after lying to them all this time. They would probably be more understanding if he had told them about his identity in the first place. And he's still not turning into Captain Marvel because he's wary of what the gods would do.

Instead, Billy sneaks out one night and goes deep into the woods in Fawcett City with a shovel and a shoebox containing his JL communicator. He digs a hole that takes hours while he's having conflicting emotions, he feels sorrow and resentment at the same time. Is he really doing this? Yes, he is. He buries the shoebox several feet under the ground and leaves. But not before saying a few words, having a makeshift funeral for his dead alter ego.

Meanwhile, the Justice League start to wonder where Captain Marvel has gone. He has not been seen in weeks. When the weeks turn into months, they start to worry. His absence does not go unnoticed in the hero community nor the public.

Eventually, they got to a point where they have to go looking for him. They track down his comm and to their surprise it shows it's in Fawcett, Cap's city but no captain in sight. They all go down there to see what's going on. They're led deep into the depths of some woods close to the city and they find nothing.

Everyone spreads out to look for clues. It's not until Batman points out a patch on the ground that looks freshly dug up that Superman uses his x-ray vision to look down and finds the Captain's comm buried inside a shoebox. They're able to dig it up in no time and Batman is able to confirm that it is indeed his. But what is it doing there? Did Cap bury it? For what reason?

With Captain Marvel's comm in their hands, they realize that there is no way to have their questions answered if they have no way to find him. That's when they have the idea to call Zatanna. Maybe she has a spell that shows what events happened in this forest. And she does.

When she gets there, she points out that there was a strong magical aura left in the area and it will take her a while to do the spell. They wonder if it's Cap's, maybe he was the one who buried his comm. But when Zatanna performs the spell, they see a small, hooded figure instead. They see him dig the hole and placing the box there and burying it, but they are unable to see his face because of the hood and it being nighttime when it happened. It's obviously a child. The figure finally finishes and stays there for a moment in total silence. It's when he starts talking that they are left frozen in shock. They can't believe the words coming out of the kid's mouth.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, captain. You used to be the best part of my life" He started off.

"I looked forward to seeing you more than anyone else, even myself at one point. You really were a ray of light in the darkness. You were able to make everyone's day better, but not mine." The league stared at him confused.

"You ended up being more trouble than your worth. You only bring chaos with you" Some league members gave him a look of disapproval.

"I think... I'm glad I got rid of you" That got everyone's attention

"My life actually improved now that you're gone. And I think that's kind of funny. I would have said the opposite about a year ago." What the hell is this kid even saying?

"Your responsibilities only caused disturbance to my life" That caused more confusion. Why would Cap's hero duties cause a disturbance? Was the kid secretly a villain?

"The only thing that will be a nuisance now is the fact that everyone will probably be worrying about where you've gone. But they won't be able to find anything" Some members got a stern look on their face.

"I have no doubt that the Justice League would come looking for you. But I think I'll just give it a few months before they stop looking. Were you even that great of a hero?" Who did this kid think he is? The league members got angered on the captain's behalf.

"Well, you were my hero. Even if I was the one that made you disappear, I'm still going to miss you" How dare he? A ghost of smile can be seen on face when he turned towards the moonlight. But the upper half of his face was still not visible. Oh, how they wanted to smack that smile off his face.

The words that came out of his mouth was like a messed-up eulogy. The kid started off praising Captain Marvel to degrading him, calling him a nuisance.

"Goodbye Marvel" are the last words he says before he turned around and left. Zatanna's spell stops there, unable to track him any further.

The league has no idea who the kid is or what kind of relationship he had with Captain Marvel, but they are certain of one thing: the kid was responsible Cap's disappearance. He killed Captain Marvel.

Some of the heroes were still in denial. There's no way they couldn't save one of their own. No way Cap would lose to some kid. Maybe the kid just thinks he killed Captain Marvel. But he had magic strong enough that not even Zatanna can track him down. And he was right about them not being able to find anything. He made Captain Marvel disappear off the face of the earth without any of them knowing.

Most of them left in tears that day.

A day later, they're all in the meeting room discussing yesterday's events and their newfound piece of knowledge.

Zatanna says something that ignites hope in them. Captain Marvel can't be dead because he was the Champion of Magic, a title the league doesn't know much about, but Zatanna assures them that if Cap really dead, the world as they know it would be thrown in complete chaos and destruction. However, there were cases where the Champion would be sealed away in a magical prison by powerful magical beings.

So, the kid did not kill Cap. To be fair, he didn't say that he did, just that he got rid of him. Maybe he was referring to sealing the captain away. That still angered them. How dare he do such an awful thing to Cap. He did nothing to deserve this! He was the sweetest person anyone could ever meet!

They hoped they could find him soon. Zatanna said some champions were locked away for centuries.

If they are able to find the kid, Zatanna would be able to assess his magic level and see if he was a threat. They could get answers as to where he hid the captain and why he did it.

The Justice League had a new goal. Find the kid and get answers. Some of them weren't above kicking his ass.

[fandombandomfics]

Motorcycle Ride (Nick Folio x Reader)

Y/N’s POV 

Nick is finally home from tour for a few months. It has been a long time since I’ve seen him so we decide to go on a ride on his motorcycle. I get to his house and get out of my car, fixing my hoodie since it got wrinkled in the car. Nick is already outside by the garage and I smile, happy to finally seen him standing in front of me. I grab my helmet from my backseat and walk over to him. 

“You know you have a sick ride,” I say 

“Thanks,” Nick says, not realizing it’s me just yet. I smile to myself and walk over to him, seeing him fiddle with his helmet strap. I giggle softly and put my hand over his, causing him to stop. He looks up with his brown eyes, the light hits them perfectly so they look like a golden brown. He smiles wide when realizing it's me. 

“Oh my god baby. I’ve missed you so much,” He says, hugging me close to him as his helmet hits the ground. I hug him back and breathe in his scent, god I’ve missed his scent and him so much. 

“I’ve missed you so much too. Glad you’re home for a while before you’re back on the road,” I say and he kisses me softly on the lips. I hum against his lips and kiss back, missing the way his lips feel on mine. I pull away and fix his hair, giggling at how his hair fell in front of his face. 

“You need a haircut,” I say 

“Maybe you can give me one later. Right now we’re going on a ride and dinner,” He says and takes a step back. I blush and twirl for him, knowing he likes to check out my outfit before we go on a ride. Well I think he’s more or less checking me out than my outfit.

“Beautiful,” He says softly, looking at me like he fell in love all over again. 

“Come on handsome we got an adventure to do,” I say. He smiles and picks up his helmet off of the ground. 

“As you wish my love,” He says and gets on the bike. I put my helmet on and get on behind him. I wrap my arms around his waist and shift myself up closer to him. 

“Ready?” He asks through the comm 

“Yes I am,” I say

“Hold on,” He says and pulls out of the driveway. I tighten my grip around his waist as we make our way out of the neighborhood. “How was tour?” I ask 

“Amazing, more amazing when you come to one,” He says and I giggle. 

“If only I could, got bills to pay babe,” I say 

“I know but one day you will, I know it,” He says and I smile. We make our way onto the highway which always makes me nervous. I breathe out a breath, reminding myself that Folio would never put me in danger. He puts his hand over mine, giving me a reassuring tap on the top of my hand before putting his hand back on the handle. After driving for a good while, he pulls off of the highway and into one of my favorite restaurant parking lot. Sandy’s Bar and Grill is a place I go to when I feel like a pick me up (no not alcohol bar foooooddd). I take off my helmet and get off the bike. He takes off his helmet and we put it in the helmet holder and he locks it. 

“Come on, let’s eat,” He says, taking my hand. We head inside and sit in a booth in the back. 

Small time skip

I lean back in the booth and feel stuffed. Nick finishes his drink and smiles at me. 

“We need to get out more,” He says and I smile but can’t help let a laugh slip out. 

“When you aren’t on the road we can, I’ve missed you so much.” I say and he smiles.

“I always miss you when we go on tour,” He says

“Well maybe next tour I can tag along,” I say with a smile. He smiles back wide. 

“I hope you do, they’re fun,” He says 

“Maybe I will talk to my boss however I can’t promise anything,” I say 

“Deal,” He says 

“I love you,” I say 

“I love you too,” He says and leans across the table, giving me a kiss.

[skellymom]

Hey Skelly

You're taking requests? Oh I'd love to ask for one.

Could you please do a one-shot involving a reader and Hunter after Omega gets seriously injured on a mission (Bad enough to wind up in a Bacta Pod) and the reader has to comfort and reassure Hunter that Omega will be OK?

tysm, GenericFicer Hugs

@genericficerblog NICE! Another ASK!!! Thank you!

"THE INCIDENT"

The Bad Batch Hunter x Reader One Shot

Per more information (not included on this particular message):

So the reader is a male battle medic. It's all platonic The reader was a medic on Kamino. He had taken care of Omega after particularly bad tests (She has the scars to prove it) and he's protective of Omega because of her past with the Kaminoans

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning: Star Wars canon violence, angst, swearing, explosion, physical injuries, coma, mention of human experimentation by the Kaminoans.

I was tasked to hang back with Omega and Tech on board the Marauder. Hunter EXPRESSLY ordered us to stay put. His thinking was to only bring the members necessary for the job: Hunter at the head of the group, Echo next to him and to share logistics on comm with Tech, Wrecker as the “heavy”, and Crosshair as lookout/cover fire. 

The job was technically low risk...but Hunter started having those “feelings” of his just before landing at our target.  

Omega protested when he told her to stay on the ship. She had been looking forward to going on a mission for awhile. Many a time she stayed behind on Pabu with Shep and Lyana. Since her rescue from Tantiss, Hunter was dead set against her going on any dangerous missions. 

Hunter’s words were “You’ll have plenty of time to fight with the Rebellion in the future. Won’t stay young forever.” 

She bristled at those words. Then forgave him immediately after. 

They LOVE each other so much! 

But ever the doting dad, Hunter relented this time. She had eventually wore him down. 

Oh...getting ahead of myself...who am I? 

Hello. I’m Y/N. The Squad Formerly Known as Clone Force 99’s Medic/Backup Heavy/Or Whatever They Need Me For. I can patch up just about ANYTHING with the bare minimum of supplies. Sometimes my methods are unorthodox, per Tech’s opinion, but effective.  It’s saved our butts a few times. So, they let me come along on every mission. 

Plus, having known and taken care of Omega while on Kamino helped. 

And the fact that Crosshair took a liking to me immediately sealed the deal. We both speak fluent sarcasm. 

But...back to the mission... 

“What’s taking SO LONG?” Omega fidgeted in her seat. 

“My guess it is due to Hunter detecting an anomaly, they are taking their time.”  

Tech and I were attempting to play a few rounds of Sebacc. I’m HORRIBLE at it. He thinks he can help me improve my game. I’m struggling currently. 

“Safety first. No need to rush into trouble...especially since we seem to find it easily enough.” I threw down my cards. 

Tech glanced at them and frowned.  

“I totally messed up that hand too, huh?” 

“Well, it’s not a strategy I would have used...” Tech trailed off. 

“You’re being too nice.” 

“Shall I explain in detail the best plan of action for this hand?” 

“Can’t stop you. Just infodump me anyways. Maybe I’ll retain SOMETHING this time.” I LOVE to tease Tech. It was difficult in the beginning. Most of it just went over his head. 

This time, he just grinned at my cheekiness and launched into it. 

Omega continued to fidget in her seat behind us. 

“...and THAT is why you should have held onto those cards until the end.” Tech finally finished his tutorial. 

“I... THINK I got all that? My brain hurts now. How ‘bout I switch with Omega.” 

“That will be sufficient.” Tech looks up and glances behind me. 

Then his face froze. 

I quickly swung around to see Omega missing from her seat. 

“OMEGA???” I called through the ship.  

Nothing. 

“Oh SHIT!” 

“INDEED!” Tech immediately radioed Hunter that Omega slipped out of the Marauder and is probably enroute to them. 

I grabbed my med pack and ran out of the Marauder before he could stop me. 

Omega used to sneak away A LOT on our previous missions. Probably one of many reasons why he wanted to keep her back on Pabu until she matured a bit more. Of course, he feels guilty...the Kaminoan’s keeping her locked up in their home world. He didn’t want to clip her wings.  

“TOLD YOU to stay on the ship!” Hunter’s voice fills my ear comm. 

“I can’t just assume that Omega finds you somehow and is safe.” 

“Don’t need ANOTHER person in danger. Go back to the ship.” 

“Well...is Omega with you?” 

“...no.” 

“She SHOULD have been by now...AND I’m NOT going back.” 

Hunter’s tired sigh. “Well, then... 

He never finished his sentence. 

A flash of intense light... 

I awoke thirty feet away from where I was standing. On my back. 

My head hurts...all I can hear is high pitched whine in both ears. 

Sit up dazed and look around at EVERYTHING obliterated and on fire. 

Torn remains of whatever was left of the trees and outbuilding I was near... 

...two small legs sticking out from under smoldering wreckage. 

I lurch up to my feet and limp over. Grab the unidentifiable thing crushing Omega and try to pull it off her. 

It’s not budging. I frantically keep trying. There's NOTHING else in this world except me and this huge THING on top of her that I cannot seem to move. 

Sweating, my hands are raw, my eyes are wet, there is blood dripping down my face... 

Is it lacerated? Could it be my eardrums are ruptured? I don’t know.  

I just know I HAVE TO GET THIS THING OFF OF HER! 

Push, pull, kick... 

Then the wreckage flew off her like it weighed nothing at all. 

Wrecker is next to me. He freed Omega and put a hand on my shoulder. Hunter grabs her up. Echo is trying to speak to me. 

But I can’t hear anything at all. Just that damned whining in my ears.  

I can lip read though... 

He’s telling me to get back to the ship. 

Echo runs ahead with Hunter.  

Crosshair grabs my arm, dragging me along. He looks extremely worried. 

Whatever happened or if we even achieved our objective, I don’t know. 

Hunter sets Omega down on a bunk. He’s beside himself emotionally.  

I can feel the Marauder take off world.  

My hearing is still impaired, but the whining is less pronounced. 

I gently nudge Hunter aside and open my med kit. Pull out the bacta...but it won’t be enough... 

...she needs a tank. Her burns and lacerations are too numerous and severe. Still breathing and regular heartbeat, but unconscious.  

I am doing the best I can with what supplies are on hand. Putting her prognosis out of my head for the time being. 

We make a pit stop at a Rebel Base on a hidden moon. One with an extensive medical facility.  

Echo radioed ahead. As soon as Tech lands, the staff enters the ship and whisks Omega away. Hunter and Wrecker run after them. Echo runs in another direction...I’m assuming to report his intel to the Rebels. 

I stand at the bottom of the gangplank and watch them leave.  

Tech stares at me strangely.  

I shrug...and a horrible twinge of pain erupts from my upper back. My face feels sore too. 

Crosshair mumbles something. 

“WHAT???” I must be screaming but can’t hear anything. 

He mouths “your back” and points.  

I try to reach behind me to feel it.  

Tech grabs my hand and nods “no”. 

They both immediately took me to medbay. 

I’m treated for multiple facial lacerations, on top of first-degree burns. Missing some of my eyebrows. And, like I guessed bilaterial ruptured eardrums. 

Oh...and the kicker: A 12-inch piece of metal sticking out of my back. Had NO idea it was there.  

Adrenaline is a HELL of a hormone. 

Tech left to confer with Echo over intel and our next move. 

Crosshair stayed with me during the surgical removal of the metal. I demanded to be awake and requested a mirror to watch the whole procedure. 

The doctors were horrified but complied with my request. 

Crosshair held the mirror. He also asked to keep the metal once removed...to frame and hang up back on Pabu. 

“You're NOT like the other kids.” I quip. 

“Neither are you.” he winks. 

They won’t let me walk out of medbay. It’s the sedatives and painkillers, of course. I wouldn’t let me walk, either.  

Crosshair pushes me in a hover chair. We head over to the bacta tanks to check on Omega. 

She’s stripped down to a medical binder and med panties. Tubes to feed, breath, and eliminate. Floating in the tank, the extent of her injuries is very apparent: Second degree burns, multiple lacerations, a broken arm, a few broken ribs, and a head injury. Her hair had been clippered off entirely for cleanliness and most of it was charred.  

Omega was also put in a medically induced coma to aide her recovery. 

Hunter, sitting in a chair, has his arms around the bacta tank. He’s basically hugging it with his forehead resting snugly against the glass. 

“I shouldn’t have let her go. Blame myself.” He mumbles. 

Wrecker puts a hand on his back for comfort. “She’ll be ok Hunter. They said we got her here in time.”   

Then he looks shocked when he sees my face. 

“OH MY MAKER! Where are your EYEBROWS?” 

Still can’t hear very well, but I can DEFINITELY lip-read Wrecker. 

“Look what medical pulled out of him!” Crosshair proudly dangles a clear plastic bag containing the metal shard. 

Wrecker is transfixed. 

Hunter is devastated. “I MISSED that??? Didn’t even register you were injured...looked right at you...” 

Like a man lost and questioning EVERYTHING. His focus had been solely on Omega. 

“Aw...they couldn’t kill me. Don’t think I’ll be attracting any ladies with my perpetually surprised look though.” Trying to lighten the mood. 

“You can’t hear ANYTHING, can you?” Crosshair looks me in the eye. 

“Barely...why?” 

“You’re so LOUD.”  

“You should talk, Wrecker.” Crosshair sneered. 

“That’s how I know!” Wrecker rolled his eyes at his brother. 

Hunter looked even more guilty, hanging his head. 

“Hey guys...” 

Wrecker and Crosshair stopped whinging at each other. 

“Can I have some time alone with Hunter?” 

They both nodded and wandered off to find Echo and Tech. 

I nudge the chair over closer to Hunter and look at Omega through the glass. 

She’s so tiny in that big tank. So beat up and bruised. The lighting in the tank leaves NOTHING hidden. Even the old scars from her time on Kamino. The “experiments” according to the Kaminoans. Things they did to her before her brothers took her away.  

Things she never really spoke about with even Hunter. 

Things I only know about since working so closely at the facility on Kamino. A little girl who needed someone to comfort her. This was before her brothers were ever aware of her presence. 

“Her prognosis is very good, yes?” I broke the ice. 

“The docs say she’ll have to spend close to the next month in this tank.” Hunter’s voice cracked. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I knew better! Why is it SO HARD for me to say no to her???” 

“Because you love her. You know she’s strong. You also know she’s still a child. If it makes you feel better, she snuck out ALL the time on Kamino. The Kaminoan’s would ask me to go look for her constantly.” 

“More of an argument to have left her on Pabu.” 

“You REALLY want to be at fault, huh?” 

“I’m responsible for...” 

I cut him off. 

“YOU CAN’T CONTROL EVERYTHING, HUNTER!” I winced. Moving too much with my exasperation. The sutures on my back were straining...and wet. 

Hunter stood up, glancing at my back. He could smell it. 

“Strike through?” I asked. 

“Yeah...just a little blood. You need to lie down and rest.” 

“That’s gonna be hard. Not supposed to lay on my back...and my face isn’t going to feel great against the pillow. How about I just stay sitting in this chair with you?” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I know you don’t want to leave her alone while she’s in this tube.” 

"Thank you. Honestly...I should say that more often. Y/N...you've really saved our butts a lot of times...I'm grateful to have you in our squad...family." Hunter cracked a small smile.

"Of course! Man...you are MY PEOPLE!" I beamed back. They really are. I'd go to the ends of the universe for every one of them!!!

Hunter's smile was so warm and genuine. But it lasted very briefly. His face became pensive again.

He was silent for a while...thinking. 

“Technically she’s asleep? Is that what a coma is like?” Hunter asked. 

“Kind of. The doctors are monitoring ALL her vitals constantly. And if anything is off, they can immediately see to her needs. Besides, the coma is just for the next 24-48 hours due to her head injury.”  

“I see.” 

“She’ll come through this. You clones were made to withstand a LOT of physical trauma. Stuff that would kill a regular human.” I added. 

“It’s not necessarily the physical stuff I’m worried about.” Hunter motions to the faint old scars on Omega’s body. “When she does wake up...she told me she has fears about being in a tube like an experiment.” 

“Tell her she has nothing to fear.” 

Hunter looks at me strangely. 

“People in a coma can still hear. Talk to her, Hunter.” 

He nods. Then directs his voice to the speaker on the bacta tube. 

I sit back and relax in the chair, watching this man...a brother, a parental figure speak to his child. 

He’s doing the best he can with what he has. 

We are all doing the best we can... 

...hanging on with HOPE. 

It’s the only thing holding the galaxy together right now... 

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[pigeontheoneandonly]

Mass Effect: Labyrinth, the sequel to Mass Effect: Discovery, continuing the adventures of Nathaly Shepard.

Chapter 49: Ghost Stories

Excerpt:

“Commander, we’ve got a problem.” With a final lingering look at Jack, Shepard clamored forward.  The ladar blinked.  “Our friends finally show up?” “You can say that twice.”  He brought up their infrared.  “Three ships.  None broadcasting on any of the hail frequencies.” “They want our parts?” “They want our parts,” Joker confirmed.  “You got orders?” She raked her fingers backwards through her hair.  “Are they armed?” “Don’t know yet, but probably.  Doubt it’s heavy arms.  Not enough credits in this system.”  He paused.  “I hate to say it, but I don’t think our missiles will help, either. I can toast maybe two of them if I get lucky.  In open space, maneuvering into position is so blatantly obvious we might as well send them a comm message with the details.” “Can we outrun them?”  And then, when he shook his head, she pursed her lips.  “Alright.  We make for the depot and try to finish refueling before they catch up.” “What about on the way back?” Shepard didn’t answer, which was in itself an answer.  His mouth tightened.  “Showdown at the depot.  Great.  Better hope it’s not staffed.” “It won’t be.” She was very certain.  Any faction that claimed it for themselves would live under constant siege, and there wasn’t any force in this cluster that had the resources to spare to defend it.  “But it beats fighting it out here.” He couldn’t argue with that.  With one eye on the ladar, Joker steered them towards the only space station for ten light years in any direction.

[todayisafridaynight]

lad8 lookin crazy

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

I’m so glad you decided to participate love!

“may my heart

be the softest place you fall,

may this love

be the wildest place you run”

😍😍😍🥰

Cushions

Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kix comes home to find you hiding in a pillow fort.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix

Tags & Warnings: domestic fluff, menstruation

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: I have finallyyyyyy written the fic for this prompt! It took me a minute to come up with a good idea, but I really like it. boyfriend!kix is back with pure fluffy goodness! This is also the shortest one-shot I have ever written. As always, please enjoy! 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: "Leave me alone."

Kix leans back in his chair and sighs as he finishes up the last of his paperwork for the evening. It’s been a long week at the GAR medical center and he’s finally ready to go home and enjoy his weekend. As the chief medical officer, he has the perk of spending his nights and weekends with you mostly undisturbed. He’s still on call for emergencies, but it’s a pretty rare occurrence, and most of the medics he’s trained can handle a plethora of situations without him.

Before packing up the rest of his things, he briefs the night-medics on the updated patient charts and gives Corric the master data-pad. They’re a good group of medics and he never has to worry with Corric in charge, which makes leaving his wounded men a little easier. After packing up his duffle, he checks his comm again. He had sent you a message asking if you wanted him to pick up dinner on the way home, but you never responded.

Kix shrugs and tosses his duffle over his shoulder. Perhaps you fell asleep after work and didn’t see his comm. Come to think of it, you didn’t answer his comm from earlier that day either. He lets a brief amount of concern flash across his features, but ultimately dismisses the thought. If you needed him, you would have commed him. Regardless, he decides to pick up dinner on the way home anyway. He can always put it in the conservator for tomorrow if need be.

After picking up the food, Kix strolls down the neon-lit street towards your home. The evening is uncharacteristically beautiful today, not too hot, with a slight breeze that gently flapping the plastic bag of food he’s carrying. He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders as he lets the stress of the week melt off of him. He knows it won’t take much convincing to have dinner out on the balcony tonight. The weather is just too gorgeous to ignore.

Kix reaches the entrance to your apartment and swipes his key card to open the door. “I’m home,” he announces, kicking his boots off onto the rug by the door.

He waits for you to answer in the same sing-song voice you always do, but he’s only greeted by silence. He knits his eyebrows together in confusion, but continues his journey into the apartment.

“I picked up dinner,” he says as he places the bag of food on the counter. Still no answer. Maybe you really did fall asleep when you got home.

Kix continues towards the bedroom, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he reaches the living room. Every single couch cushion, pillow, and blanket has been fashioned together into a rather robust looking fort in the middle of the floor. He blinks and cocks his head to the side, before stifling a small snort. He was expecting you to be asleep in bed, not bunkered down in a non-regulation pillow fortress.

Kix walks around the fort to inspect it. He nods his approval at the overall construction, but he’s not really sure what is keeping it upright considering some of the intricate details you somehow managed to add. As he walks around to the other side, he notices a flimsy sign taped onto the blanket that’s draped over what he believes to be the entrance to the fort. The sign reads no boys allowed in red crayon. He bends over and tries desperately not to laugh.

“Mesh’la?” he calls from outside the fort.

“Yeah?” you answer with a muffled voice from within the fort.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“Did you read the sign?” you reply.

“Yes, I did,” he answers.

“Are you a boy?” you ask.

Kix chuckles. “Last time I checked.”

“Then you can’t come in!” you snap.

“Okay,” he concedes to your demands. “Do you mind if I sit out here with you?”

You think for a moment before answering. “I guess it’s okay.”

Kix smiles and sits down on the floor, leaning his back against the adjacent wall to the entrance of the fort. He sits in silence for a couple of minutes, wondering what exactly prompted you to build the fort and also keep him out of it. He considers the pillow-fort factors of safety, comfort, and isolation, and what those three things have in common. He decides on a few hunches and formulates a plan to get you to tell him.

“How was work?” he asks first.

“Meh,” you answer.

Kix raises an eyebrow at his first clue. You only answer a question with ‘meh’ when you’re annoyed, but that’s not enough to go off of, so he continues his quest for more clues. “Do you want some food?” he asks. “I brought home dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” you answer.

Kix nods his head at the second clue. Lack of appetite is a rather rare occurrence for you, so he knows something is definitely not right. He rolls a few other options in his head before asking another probing question. “Are you tired?” he asks. “We could go to bed.”

“No!” you yell. “Just leave me alone!”

Aha. The lightbulb turns on Kix’s head and he sighs knowingly at your sudden agitation. “Did you start your period?” he asks softly.

You groan at his expert detective skills. “No…” you mumble out, but you’re a bad liar.

“Mesh’la,” he presses, wanting you to be honest with him.

“I… I’m fine,” you say, not wanting to give in, but you’re not really fine.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“That’s a dumb question,” you retort back.

Kix chuckles. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

“Are you nauseous too?” he asks.

“Another dumb question,” you answer. “This is why boys aren’t allowed in my fort, you're all dumb.”

“Mm,” he nods his head. “Understandable. But did you know that boys are good for other things?”

“Like what?” you ask sarcastically.

“Oh, you know,” he starts. “Like cuddles, and kisses, and stuff.”

You ponder his words. “I guess those things aren’t so bad.”

“Do you want some?” he asks carefully.

“No,” you answer quickly, but your voice falters at the end.

Kix smiles as you try your hardest to push him away. “Are you sure?”

You pause and think about his offer. On one hand you don’t want to be touched, but on the other hand, you do want to be touched. Periods always make these decisions difficult and it stresses you out. You sigh and finally decide to let him into your little fort. Kix watches from the outside in silence as your hand sneaks out from behind the blanket, rips down the no boys allowed sign, and tosses it. The flimsy doesn’t go very far and gently floats down onto the carpet.

Kix stifles another laugh at how adorable you’re acting. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls up to the blanket entrance of the fort. “I’m coming in,” he announces. Once he pulls back the blanket and sees you, his heart drops a little and his features soften. You’re on your side, curled up into a little ball and wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. He imagines there’s a hot water bottle somewhere under all of that fluff.

Kix is a bit big for the fort, but he maneuvers himself carefully as he enters and crawls towards you. He gingerly lays himself down on his side next to you, giving you some space, as his feet hang out of the entrance. You slowly scoot yourself backwards so that your back is pressed against his chest. Then you reach your hand back and pat him while you try to find his arm. He sees you struggle, so he gives it to you and you pull it across your stomach.

“Comfy?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you answer as you snuggle further into him. You appreciate that he’s letting you make all of the moves and decide what you want, rather than him grabbing at you. It’s one of your favorite things about having Kix as a boyfriend. He really pays attention to what you want, even if he doesn’t get what he wants.

You both lay like that in silence. The moment is blissful, well, as blissful as it can be with the cramps wracking your lower body every couple of minutes, but it’s still nice. After about thirty minutes, you feel Kix shift his legs. He shifts them a second time, and then a third time. You feel him tense around your body and he lets go of you, shooting himself straight up to readjust his confined body.

“Cramp,” he grimaces as he kicks his leg out.

Unfortunately, he kicks the side of the fort and all the pillows and cushions come crashing down onto you both. You let out a small yelp and instinctively cross your arms over your head to protect it. When you open your eyes Kix is hovering over you on all fours, protecting you from the falling cushions. His breathing turns a little heavy and his eyes are locked on you, as if his combat training kicked in and the soft cushions were actually rocks that could crush you.

You start giggling at his selfless act, then snort when you think about how your brave soldier heroically saved you from an avalanche of couch cushions. Once Kix realizes you’re okay, he starts laughing with you. All of a sudden, you’re both laughing hysterically over your fallen fort with tears falling from your eyes. Your night started out miserably, but now it’s ending on the best note possible. This is a memory you won’t soon forget.

You both finally stop laughing and look into each other’s eyes lovingly. Kix lowers his head down and gives you a small kiss on your forehead, causing a big smile to form on your lips. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go to bed.”

You nod your head. “Carry me?” you ask with pleading eyes.

Kix untangles himself from you, slips his hands under your legs and back, and pulls you up into his arms. “Anything for you,” he smiles.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he walks towards the bedroom. “I love you.”

Kix gives you a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you too.”

Masterlist

A03

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