#maybe out of an abandoned mine shaft?

[mollrat101]

Loving the idea there’s a secret bunker in the wilderness (likely built by Cabin Guy) because of this podcast episode. 

Especially since Nerdist writer, Ro Rusak, also mentioned how yellowjackets (the insects) like to build their nests underground. Or some of them do, anyway.

That weird tree stump with melted snow around it. That might be the entrance to the bunker! And that might be where Javi is!

[starboye]

pairing: sam golbach x male reader

request: To start: maybe it was a particular hot, sunny day in a “ghost town”, leaving Sam’s (very nice might I say) body all sweaty and ahem ahem musky. His boyfriend’s a semi-popular streamer who had joined as one of their many guests, and on his streaming side of their tour, he (reader) had gotten a lot of flirty comments. Sooooo naturally Sam, upon them returning to their hotel, fucks the daylight out of him. Bonus if they’re engaged and Sam’s kissing his neck and back saying he’s his and only his (extra bonus if he stuffs his undies in his mouth or something (extra extra bonus if he cums so hard into his boyfie his belly bulges, but he doesn’t pull out all night))

warnings: smut, rough sex, sweat kink, possessive sam, choking, underwear used as gag, cursing, hickeys

after a little adventure with your boyfriend sam and his buddy colby, exploring an abandoned ghost town on a hot summer day was pretty good especially when you got to see sam lift his shirt to wipe his face and got to see those hot abs, and god did he smell amazing, the sweat made you want him more and more.

you being a popular streamer and all, had streamed the whole thing and during the live stream you got lots of flirty comments saying you were so hot and fine and looked so good in that outfit and for twenty points guess who ended up seeing those flirty comments on the way back to the hotel and got jealous of these desperate men flirting with you, if you guessed sam golbach you would be... correct (be sure to gain your of an ass pic with the host).

once getting to your room sam was quick to pull you into a kiss and strip off your clothes, throwing you onto the bed and pinning your hands down, his cock nudging at your hole more and more as his kisses on your neck became deeper and more possessive "i saw those comments on your live stream" he admits while moving one hand to lather some saliva on your puckering hole.

"c'mon you know i would never fuck my fans" you try to calm him but it falls on deaf ears, your words starting to annoy sam a little so he shoves his underwear into your mouth as a sort of gag, your nose getting filled with the scent of sams' sour smelling balls after a whole day in the hot sun, he soon shoves his cock into your hole and gets to fucking you, making you his absolute bitch and reminding you who owns this hole.

sams' lips pecked at your neck, leaving hickeys in the way to further remind you of who you belong to "fuck sam" you whine out while sam snapped his hips into your ass harder and harder until your whole ass was starting to feel numb "who do you belong to" sam pulls his underwear out of your mouth and asks placing his hand on your neck, squeezing it slightly "you daddy" you answer, your voice sort of wheezing as his grip tightens.

"and who is the only one who can fuck you" he asks again "you daddy only you can fuck me right, no other mans' dick is the same" you moan out feeling your body shake as you cum all over your abdomen "good boy but im not done with you yet" he growls lifting you up and sitting on the bed before sitting you back on his cock.

bouncing you up and down on his shaft, he kissed the back of your neck and you could hear him mumbling "mine all fucking mine" and being the insatiable boyfriend you are you stroke his ego "yes sam all yours im all yours forever" making him bounce you up and down on him harder and a little faster until he dumped his loud in you.

keeping you going to ride out his high, heavy breaths fanning the back of your neck, you begin to lift up but sam pulls you back down on his now hardening cock "oh were not done yet, better tighten that ass because you got a rough night ahead of you" he whispers in your ear, well let's hope you don't get kicked out like last time.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[writing-positivelyexisting]

Warm Bodies

The Bad Batch. Bad Batch/Reader. | writing-positivelyexisting🫧

For the 50 followers celebration, I give you this fluffy Bad Batch/Reader! Thank you guys! <3

Sent on a mission to the frozen planet, Kijimi, the crunch of snow was becoming a white noise to you. You trekked behind Echo, desperately pulling your arms across your middle and into your body, trying to contain as much body heat as possible. You weren’t built for this. You grew up on Tatooine. Snow was not your element.

You looked over at your comrades in their winter armor. Not a single shiver or a drippy sniffle. It boggled you completely. How in the galaxy did they stay warm? Genetics? Maybe it was part of their enhancements. Whatever was keeping these men warm would stay a mystery, and it made you envious.

A gust of particularly strong force blew past the group and you felt every fiber in your body jitter. Your body was wracked with a violent shiver to the point where it made you stop moving.

Crosshair, who was walking behind everyone, stopped to look at you. He heard your chattering teeth and had to keep his chuckle in the back of his throat.

“Cold?”

If you weren’t so frozen in place you would have hit him. “No. I was just about to strip, it’s so hot.”

“Be my guest,” he teased, his cruel and taunting smile hidden behind his helmet.

“For the love of – Hunter! Can we please set up camp?”

The leader, farther than the rest of you, stopped and looked back. Seeing you a miserable cold mess brought out a pitiful sigh from him. He comm’d back, “The first sign of shelter we will. Need an extra coat?”

You groaned, but nodded to his offer. You trudged up to Hunter as fast as your icicle-legs would allow and took the heavy parka Hunter packed.

“Thanks,” you huffed, shoving your arms through in greed. Zipping up the jacket, you felt a little difference. It would have to do for now.

Hunter gave you a look over, wanting to be sure you were alright to continue. He could hear the increased rhythm of your heart and felt his own pang in helplessness. Offering you the jacket was the best he could do for you now.

He looked over at Tech beside him and tilted his head, “Can you scan for shelter?”

“Certainly,” Tech tucked his data pad away then looked up, holding onto his goggles as he searched the horizon. “There appears to be an abandoned Kessel mining shaft three klicks north.”

You felt some relief knowing it wouldn’t be too long. “Thank the stars. Let’s get going.”

The trek took almost an hour, but when you finally made it inside the mine, you were quick to plop onto your butt. You took your pack off and looked at the men who were starting to unpack. Bringing your tired body to move, you took out your sleeping bag and unfurled it.

What you saw next you really had no words. There was a hole. Big enough for a really fat Tooka cat to crawl through. Perks of being government property. You shivered and felt like crying. This mission was going great.

Hunter came by with Echo and they both saw your sleeping bag. “Oh, cyare.” Echo came to you and you huffed, trying to keep a brave face.

“I’ll figure something out.”

You stood up and went to help Wrecker with building the fire. He welcomed your presence, bringing you into a comfy side hug. You felt the heat he provided and if you could purr, you would. He let you go with a soft kiss to the top of your head before giving you the lighter.

He asked you how you were holding up on the mission, knowing full well your inability to handle such freezing temperatures. You frowned, kneeling to the fire kit and setting it ablaze.

“Not well. My sleeping bag has a hole in it. So, I’m royally screwed.”

Wrecker frowned at you, “You could always sleep with one of us.”

“I know, thank you.”

Wrecker was right. You had your boys and any one of them would be more than happy to give up their sleeping bag or have you cuddle into their side for the night. Sometimes it still blows you away to realize you’ve got five incredible men at your back, who care for you, who are there for you, who love you.

You smiled at the thought and a little bright idea came to you.

As the sun set on Kijimi, the winds gusted through the mine with ferocity and the temperature dropped to the negatives. While you ate the rations you packed, you couldn’t stop the death-biting shivers that wracked your body. It was becoming unbearable so you looked around the mine and found Wrecker sitting opposite of you, his back against the wall.

You moved, sitting next to him and snuggling into his side. The man grinned, moving his arm to bring you closer (as if it was possible). “Maker, you’re warm…” You looked up and saw the others happily smiling at you two. “It could be warmer, though,” you said wistfully, hoping the damsel-in-distress tone would work.

It did.

Hunter moved in to your other side, pecking your temple. You smiled and thanked him, letting the two men warm you up from either side of you. It was nice, but your little plan had yet to be finished.

“I think… I could be warmer, hmm.” You innocently put your pointer finger on your cheek like you were thinking about how to solve your problem. You glanced at Tech and Echo and winked.

Both of them rolled their eyes at your silly ploy, but gave in regardless. Echo laid on your right thigh while Tech laid on your left, each reaching up to place a kiss on your cheeks. With four out of five brothers, you looked at the sniper whose back was facing you. He had his firepuncher propped up next to him and was ready to take the first watch.

You weren’t satisfied with that.

“I still think it could be way warmer,” you spoke exaggeratingly loud and Crosshair moved to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyebrow raised when he saw your ‘come-here’ hands. Not daring to ignore your cute plea, the snarky sniper got up to take the last spot available: in between your legs.

“Could have just asked, darling,” he breathed against your lips before he kissed you.

It made you giggle and you happily wrapped your arms around him as he settled in on you. “Oh, I know. This was more fun, though.”

The men chuckled, filling you with warmth greater than any sun. As the night was breaching late hours, one by one each of you fell into a comfortable slumber. You were kept blissfully warm through the night and your tiny smile never left.

word count: 1,136.

Beta read by: @beating-a-dead-plot (If you’re looking for a beta reader, she’s an excellent one! Give her a message!)

Tag list: @dangraccoon (comment or send me and ask if you want to be tagged!)

[exhuastedpigeon]

for the bed sharing prompts: "1. Person A waking up to a sleeping Person B clinging onto them tightly" if it sparks joy <3

helllllo this did spark joy! Maybe too much joy. Maybe joy that doesn't involve sharing a bed for the first 3k...

gold when you see me

They’re on hour four of a search and rescue call - three teens failed to come home after a lunchtime hike - when Eddie falls through the leaf covered ground into what is apparently an old mine shaft. He doesn’t have time to try to catch himself or to brace for impact. One second he’s walking over solid ground, the next he’s ten feet underground in a very damp and dark tunnel.  “Ouch,” Eddie says when he lands, his teeth clacking in his head. His ass hurts in an extremely unfun way, his ankle feels terrible, and he’s seeing spots. None of that is good news.  “Eddie?” Buck sounds panicked. “Eddie?” “Down here,” Eddie calls up. He’s definitely going to have a bruised tail bone and there’s a pretty decadent chance that he’s sprained his ankle, if not broken it. He’s a little too shaken up to try to get up right now, especially since it's not like he’s not going to be able to get himself out of here. He takes a deep breath and feels every second of it in his ribs. On the bright side, they don't feel broken, just bruised. Buck’s face, illuminated by nothing but Eddie’s flashlight and Buck’s own, appears in the hole that Eddie fell through. “You okay?” Eddie will explore the tremor in Buck’s voice later, right now he needs to get out of this fucking hole before it caves in even more. “Definitely a little banged up, but I landed on the ground, not anything else.” “Okay, okay,” Buck says, shining his light right on Eddie.  “I think it’s an old mine shaft,” Eddie says, swinging his light around. “Looks abandoned.”

continue on ao3

[bornonthesavage]

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 4

Part 3  Part 5 Read on AO3

“No, Scoob, don’t go in there! The abandoned mine shaft is exactly the place a scary monster would be!”

Eddie shouted his warning at the tv, knowing full well they never took his advice. Currently, he was hung upside down on his sofa, waiting to see how long it would take before the blood pounding in his head was enough to make him dizzy. Wayne had asked him, many times, why he didn’t just… not do it. But that had been before he’d learned it was best to just let Eddie do as he wished. Besides, Wayne wasn’t here right now. It was after eight on Wednesday night, which meant he’d already left for his night shift at the plant.

That left Eddie free to be as loud as he liked, and he did like. The only downside to hanging upside down like an oversized bat was the hit his already dreadful coordination took. But hey, he’d like to see anyone try and eat chips like this! As it was, he accidentally spilled half the bag of cheese puff over his face and onto the carpet.

“Crap.”

Bracing his hands on the floor, he lowered his face until he was able to grab a few puffs with his lips. See, this was more practical anyway. He was a genius. Now if he could just get every teacher at school to believe it.

Speaking of school, today had been just as weird as the last thanks entirely to Steve god damn Harrington. Eddie didn’t get it. First, he’d come to him in the hall. And not even for any particular reason, apparently. Just to talk. Which, yeah, bizarre. Then at lunch, just like the day before, he’d plopped himself down right next Eddie as if he’d been there the whole time. As if jocks dined with the freaks on a regular basis. Because yeah, he’d said he wanted to sit with them, but Eddie had thought he was joking. Surely, after one lunch period, he would come to his senses and realize he didn’t belong there. Apparently not.

The problem was, Eddie couldn’t figure out what his angle was. It couldn’t just be that he’d lost his old friends. He was Steve Harrington. He could join any group he wanted. Eddie and his friends had to be on the very bottom of the list of potential besties.

Maybe Steve was just looking for a hookup to cheap drugs. That was definitely a possibility. Plenty of people were nicer to Eddie for the sole purpose of not being up charged on their weed. Why would Steve be any different? And if that was the case, well. Eddie wasn’t going to say no to Steve’s sweet smiles. He could knock a few bucks off the drugs for that. Because while he might be a virgin, in his heart, he was a bit of a desperate slut.

The phone rang then, the shrill noise cutting through the sound of the tv and nearly making Eddie fall off the couch. He caught himself in time and rolled into a standing position. Brushing the Cheeto dust off his fingers, he trotted over to the phone.

“Hanks Roadside Diner, you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em. What can I do for you?”

For a moment, there was silence on the other side. When nobody spoke, Eddie decided it must be a telemarketer and began to hang up. That is, until he heard “Uh, Eddie?”

And shit, he knew that voice. It had starred in his dreams for the past two nights, making for very messy morning cleanups. Eddie’s heart stuttered uncomfortably in his chest. Why the fuck was Steve calling him? When Eddie didn’t answer, Steve spoke again.

“Uh, sorry, I must have the wrong number.”

“No!” Eddie cried, then cringed at how loud he’d been. “No, uh, this is Eddie.”

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence. “Dude, why would you answer your phone that way?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Uh, because this is my phone and I can do what I want. Plus, it scares away junk callers.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. Oh, this is Steve, by the way.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that. But um, how did you get my number?”

Steve was silent for a second. “Well, there was only one Munson in the phonebook, so I took a wild guess that it was you.”

What the fuck? Eddie leaned back against the wall and began to twist the cord around his finger. “So you’re telling me you went out of your way to look me up?”

There was some rustling on the other end of the line, as if Steve was moving around. “I mean, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t really out of my way, since I already had the phonebook. And yes, I can read, if that was what you were going to say next.”

Eddie grinned. “Wow, I’m flattered that you already know me so well. But back to the topic at hand. To what do I owe the pleasure of King Steve calling on little old me?”

Steve cleared his throat. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat with me.”

The phone nearly fell out of Eddie’s hand as he jerked up right. Surely, he hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

Steve began to ramble. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t have anything to eat at the house right now, so I was going to go out anyway, but it’s always more fun to go with someone. And Darcy’s Diner is open for another two hours, so I figured that would be the perfect place for a late dinner. Have you been? It’s pretty good. They cook a mean burger. But, I mean, only if you haven’t eaten yet? Which, crap, I realize it’s eight o’clock so you probably have.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring into the middle distance. What the hell was going on? There was no way Steve was asking him out. Maybe he was still on the couch, hung upside down. Maybe so much blood had pooled in his head that it had knocked him unconscious. That honestly made more sense than whatever this was. Because of course his subconscious would conjure up a phone call from Steve. He was dragged out of his spiraling by his voice.

“Eddie? You still there?”

He shook himself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Wait, so you want to go out right now?”

���Um, yeah? But you don’t have to if you already ate.”

Eddie glanced back at the cheese puffs scattered across the floor, which were the extent of the food he’d consumed. “No, I haven’t eaten. I guess I could go for some food.”

“Oh, cool,” Steve said, suddenly sounding much brighter. “So, do you want to meet me at Darcy’s? Or I could pick you up.”

“No, no, I can meet you there.”

The last thing he needed was for his stupid brain to get this whole situation more mixed up. It was definitely safer to drive himself.

“Alright. See you in, say, thirty minutes?”

“Yep, see you then.”

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Great, bye Eddie.”

Even after Steve hung up, Eddie remained standing where he was. Ok so, Steve wanted to hang out. Outside of school. Which was totally normal and not weird. It was a little strange that he’d looked him up rather than just asking for his number during lunch. Unless, of course, he didn’t want anyone else to know they were hanging out outside of school.

Oh, right. Steve probably wanted to score some weed. That was why he’d called so late. He’d probably asked him to eat first, so he didn’t seem rude, in an effort to get that good discount. Eddie relaxed slightly. Yeah, that made sense. He was used to people using him for drugs. This was familiar territory.

And so what, if he spent way longer getting ready than he would for a regular drug deal? Steve was probably going to look nice, since he always looked nice, so it only made sense for Eddie to put a little effort in.

Once he was dressed in his best band tee and his second favorite pair of ripped jeans, he made his way out of the trailer and hopped into the van. The drive to Darcy’s was pretty short, yet when Eddie pulled into the parking lot, Steve was already there. And yep, Eddie had been right. He looked good enough to eat.

Eddie took a moment as he parked to just look at Steve. He was leaned up against his car, the curved line of his body somehow both causal and posed. Tight jeans, white sneakers, an unzipped bomber jacket. Jesus Christ. He took a second to steady himself before climbing out of the van.

This is just a drug deal. Just a drug deal. A drug deal with a bizarre extra layer of weirdness.

“Hey Harrington. You coming from a date?”

Steve looked up at him as he approached, a smile tugging up the corner of his lips. “Hey Munson. No, I was at home. Why do you ask?”

Eddie waved a hand. “You’re awfully dressed up for a late-night diner run. Hope you didn’t get dolled up for little old me.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at himself, as if only now realizing what he was wearing. “I mean, it never hurts to make a good impression, right? Figured that applied to friends too.”

Eddie stopped a few feet away, letting his arms swing awkwardly at his sides. “Friends. Right.”

“Yep. So, uh, you want to go in?”

“After you, my liege,” he said, dropping into a sweeping bow.

Steve snorted and shoved playfully at his shoulder. “Shut up. Come on.”

They approached the door to the diner together. Before Eddie could reach for the handle, Steve had already pulled it open and motioned for Eddie to go in first. Huh. A chivalrous king. The waitress behind the counter told them to sit wherever they liked, and Eddie followed Steve to one of the booths along the wall of windows. Once they were seated, Steve slid a menu over.

“You ever been here before?”

Eddie glance over the top of his menu. “Steve, we don’t exactly live in the big city. We have like, ten options for restaurants. So yeah, I’ve eaten here before.”

“You know, a simple yes would have been fine,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

“Ah, but I’m not a simple guy. Surely, you’ve figured that out by now.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious. But I like it though. You’re different. Everyone else around here is so damn boring.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair and regarded Steve. So was that his angle? Was the prince bored and in need of entertainment? It would make sense why he’d latched onto Eddie. A jester for a king.

“What, you need me to perform for you, big boy?”

Steve shot him a look. “No. Just, like, hang out. Chill.”

The waitress appeared beside them to take their order. Steve decided on a burger with everything on it, as well as a side of fries and a chocolate milkshake. Eddie went a little more daring with an order of their full breakfast slam. Once the waitress had slipped away to give their order to the cook, Steve looked back to Eddie.

“Breakfast at night?”

Eddie spread his hands. “Yeah, why not? That’s the best time to have it.”

Steve gave him a skeptical look. “I think the best time to have breakfast is in the morning, seeing as that’s when you’re supposed to eat it.”

“Ah, Stevie boy, but that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, wagging a finger at him. “The best time to do anything is when you’re not supposed to. It makes things way more interesting. Plus, who decided there were certain foods for certain times of day? That’s weird, right? It’s just food. Why does everything in life have to have some arbitrary rule?”

As he spoke, Steve’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper. He opened his mouth to respond, but Eddie slapped his hand down on the table before he could.

“That was a trick question, Steve-o. I’ll tell you why. Two words. Mass. Conformity. The people on top pile on all these stupid rules and convince the people that they’re important. When to eat certain foods. What to wear to different places. Who you can love. It’s all nonsense. But they convince you it matters. Why? Because it keeps you distracted from the bigger picture. From looking at The Man and seeing that we’re all just cattle in their conveyer belt. But not me. Oh no, I won’t be like them. So yeah, that’s why I eat breakfast at night.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Eddie picked up his water and took a big gulp. Long speeches always dried out his mouth. When he looked at Steve, he found the other boy staring at him with wide eyes. This was usually the place he lost the normies. Where they narrowed their eyes at him and decided he was just too weird. He was prepared for it. Welcomed it, even. But once again, Steve surprised him. After a moment, he began to nod his head.

“Huh, yeah, I’ve never thought about it like that. But it makes sense. There could be, like… monsters running around the town and nobody would even notice because they’re so worried about missing an episode of Jeopardy.”

Something warm flickered to life in Eddie’s chest. Something soft and bright. Something dangerous. He tried to smother it before it got any air, but the open expression on Steve’s face made it impossible. Hell, even Eddie’s own friends rolled their eyes when he got going on one of his spiels. But Steve wasn’t rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked interested. Which was wonderful. It was great. It was terrible. Eddie took another big gulp of water.

“Yeah, exactly. Forced conformity is no joke.”

Steve’s eyes moved over Eddie. “So, is that why you dress how you do, and yell on table tops, and push peoples buttons? So you can break out of the mold the world tried to put you in?”

Oh, fuck. He was being seen by Steve Harrington. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine anything worse. Being perceived was to be avoided at all costs. So, he would do what he always did. Smile, deflect, distract.

“Aww, Stevie, now you’re getting it. Not all of us can be so blessed to be molded out of gold like you.”

He expected Steve to smirk or roll his eyes. To brush it off like everything else Eddie had said. Instead, the corners of Steve’s mouth turned down into a frown and he lowered his eyes. As if what Eddie had said upset him. That hadn’t been his intention. As formerly mentioned, Eddie was a weak man. Despite his reservations, Eddie wanted Steve to like him. He sort of hated it, but there it was.

“Hey, man, did I say something wrong?”

Steve shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine. You’re right. I have everything anyone could want, so I should be grateful. Right?”

That felt like a trap. Like there was something Eddie didn’t know. He picked at his napkin, tearing off little strips and rolling them into balls.

“I mean, I don’t know your life man. You’re allowed to have problems.”

Steve nodded, though it seemed stilted. “Yeah, sure.”

Fuck. Eddie had definitely messed this up. And while he should be glad for it, should hope that now Steve would move on to his next distraction, he’d always been an attention whore. He thrived on it, so long as it was surface level. He wanted people to notice him, to find him interesting in the way someone found the circus interesting. And now, despite his own wishes, he wanted Steve to keep paying attention to him.

“Did you know it would take a human nineteen minutes to fall to the center of the earth?”

Steve’s head jerked up, a look of bewilderment replacing the dejection that had been there a moment before. “What?”

“Yep,” Eddie said, grinning when he saw he had Steve’s attention. “Scientists figured it out.”

“That can’t be true,” Steve said, shaking his head. “The earth is like, huge. How could they even know that?”

Eddie shrugged. “Don’t know, dude. I’m not a scientist. They did some math shit, I guess.”

“Huh. I’m going to have to ask Dustin about that. He might know.”

“Dustin?”

“Yeah, one of the middle schoolers I watch. He’s a total nerd, but he’s also a genius. Way smarter than I’ll ever be, that’s for sure.”

Eddie grinned. “He sounds cool.”

“I mean, I guess,” Steve said. But he was smiling now, and didn’t that just warm Eddie’s jaded heart?

The waitress came then with their food, setting their plates in front of them before disappearing once more. Eddie began to immediate dig in, scooping up a big bite of scrambled eggs and shoving them into his mouth. But when he looked up at Steve, he was just watching him, that same small smile still on his face.

Suddenly feeling nervous, Eddie swallowed and straightened up. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Steve’s shoulders twitched. “I can get stuck in my own head sometimes. Thanks for getting me out.”

Eddie tightened his grip on his fork so he wouldn’t do something stupid, like reach across the table. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’s no problem. Always happy to help.”

Steve continued to smile as he began to eat. They talked more as they ate, mostly about small stuff and people they hated at school. The list was long and heavily overlapped, Eddie found. Which was nice. It was always cool to hate the same people as someone else. And Steve was a bitch, which Eddie already knew, but it was nice to see that venom directed at people he didn’t like.

When the waitress brought the check, Eddie reached for his wallet, but Steve waved him away. “Nah, man, it’s on me. I’m the one who invited you.”

Eddie was pretty sure that only applied to dates, which this definitely wasn’t. Still, he wasn’t going to argue over a free meal. “Alright, if you insist.”

With the meal paid for, they slid out of their booths and made their way back out to the parking lot. It was still early in February, which meant it was unreasonably cold. Eddie tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“So, uh,” Eddie said, turning back to Steve. “Did you want to do this in the van?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

Eddie waved his hand. “You know. The weed. Unless you were looking for something stronger, but I don’t have any of that on me.”

“Um.” Steve blinked. “I’ve got to drive, so I probably shouldn’t smoke right now. But if you want, I could come over some time and we could smoke and hang. Or you could come to mine. It doesn’t matter.”

Well, now Eddie felt a bit wrong footed. “So, you aren’t interested in buying weed?”

Steve tucked his hands into his pockets. “Uh, no, not right now. But thanks for the offer.”

Well, shit. There went that theory. He cleared his throat. “No, yeah, no problem. I just, uh, thought I’d offer.”

“Right. Oh, also,” Steve said, lighting up as if he’d just remembered something. Eddie watched as he turned and dug through his car. When he turned back, he was holding a pen. Eddie’s heart shot into his throat when Steve grabbed him by the hand and pulled him closer. “So you’ll have my number. No need to look in the phonebook.”

Once Steve was finished, he let Eddie’s hand go. He immediately missed the warmth. The number was written out across the back of him arm in Steve’s handwriting. Eddie had the insane thought that he could maybe saranwrap his skin where Steve had touched him. God, he was such a fucking freak.

“Oh, uh, cool. Is there a good time to call?”

“Nah, wherever’s fine. I might be out giving the kids a ride, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you back.”

Eddie tilted his arm, looking at the number at a different angle. “I won’t piss off your parent’s if I call too late?”

Steve dropped his eyes to his feet. “Uh, no, they’re out of town so you don’t have to worry about that.”

It felt like there was something more there, but Eddie wasn’t about to pry into Steve’s life. “Okay. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

And then Steve did something weird. He lifted his arm, as if to pull Eddie in for a hug, only to freeze halfway there. Eddie’s pulse quickened as his gaze focused in on the hand that was now way too close. He definitely wasn’t prepared to be hugged by Steve Harrington. He also desperately, desperately wanted it. In the end, Steve went halfway and dropped his hand onto Eddie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Maybe a hug would have been too much, because that small touch was already making electricity shoot through Eddie’s body.

“See you, dude.”

Eddie nodded absently. “Yeah, dude. Bye.”

Once back within the safety of his van, Eddie watched as Steve started up his car pulled out of his spot. He threw Eddie one more wave, then was gone. He just sat there for a while, contemplating. Steve didn’t want drugs, unless it was while they were “hanging out”. He’d given him his number and said to call anytime. He’d opened the door for him, paid for the meal, then touched Eddie’s shoulder.

What the fuck was going on?

[minty-mumbles]

Hysterical strength with a situation involving Time + Wild?

Hysterical strength with Wild, ft Time and Twilight. I added a magical twist to this because I had a strong vision of this scenario involving a cave-in, but no one, hysterical strength or not, can hold up a cave roof. I'm playing fast and loose with these prompts.

Also, I dislike the way this turned out but I had to post it eventually, so here we go

~~~

The Shadow had laid a trap for the heroes, and like fools, they’d walked right into it. An abandoned mine filled with monsters with rumors of treasure at the bottom of one of the mine shafts had been the perfect bait, and a few well-placed bombs were to be their downfall. 

Thankfully, the shadow had been overzealous. The heroes were still in sight of the entrance when the first bomb went off. The sudden shaking caused some of the group to stumble, but thankfully no one fell. The loud explosion and the way some of the old rotting support boards crumbled around them were enough of a signal for them to bail. They were still close enough that they’d been able to get out.

Well. Most of them got out.

The first ones out of the cave were Four and Legend. The two of them had the sense to activate their pegasus boots and grab Sky- notoriously the slowest among them- dragging him along between them. Warriors and Hyrule followed right behind them, easily clearing the cave exit. 

Wind was in front of Time, shouting some rather creative swears as he held his shield above his head. Time could see the size of the pebbles rattling off the shield increase as a second bomb went off, much closer this time. 

Time caught a glimpse of sun-bleached blonde hair right before the ceiling went down. Time was not a very religious man, but he offered up a brief prayer that Wind had managed to get to the cave exit. 

When the boulders started to tumble around them, Time realized that neither he nor Twilight- who was running beside him- were going to make it out. With no time for hesitation, he swiftly pivoted and threw himself at the rancher. 

The younger man yelped in shock and fell under the surprise weight of Time and his heavy plate armor. The two of them fell to the floor, Time’s hand cradling the back of Twilight’s skull to protect his head from smacking against the stone floor. Time’s last thought before the ceiling rained down on them with a roar was a desperate hope that his body and armor would offer some protection to the man beneath him.

But the crushing force he’d been bracing for never came. A few little rocks rained down on them, but they quickly stopped. Time remained tense, wondering if the gods had smiled upon them for once and they’d managed to avoid the worst of it. 

All that remained was a deafening silence and an all-consuming orange glow. The dust around them was beginning to settle. Twilight below him was wheezing slightly and Time realized he should get off the man. 

His body protested as he cautiously sat up. Small pieces of rubble fell off of him as he shifted. The sound of the rubble falling to the floor was the only sound in the eerily quiet space. 

The orange glow that surrounded them allowed Time to look around and take in his surroundings. Twilight was also gaining his bearings and sitting up. Time shifted away as much as he could in the small space to give him room. Other than being disoriented and a little bit dazed, the rancher seemed fine. 

That established, Time took a moment to look around, taking in what had saved them from certain death. A strange faceted orange sphere surrounded them. Time looked on warily as he saw that the stones above them pressed heavily against the barrier. 

Time turned around, looking for the source of the magic. Perhaps Hyrule or Legend had cast a spell to protect them when it had become obvious they wouldn’t make it out? Maybe Twilight had some item hidden in his pouch that had saved them? 

Instead, in the center of the glow, Time saw something he’d never expected to see.

Wild.

Wild was one of the fastest runners in the group, and Time had thought the boy had been one of the first ones out of the cave. But no, Time realized. In this case, Wild’s habit of wandering ahead had been a detriment to him. He’d been far ahead of the group when the bomb had gone off, and had been the furthest one from the entrance.

The Champion crouched in the center of the cleared area. One of his strongest shields was held over his head as he tried to make himself as small as possible to fit under it. Obviously, he’d been bracing for the impact of the rocks just as Time had been. 

His shield arm was surrounded in the same orange glow that encased all three heroes. There was no doubt he was the source of the barrier.

Blue flames flickered in the air around the Champion, floating eerily and silently. There was a distant flicker of worry in the back of Time’s mind that- if this fire wasn’t purely magical- it could quickly burn through the limited oxygen they had. He pushed those thoughts away for now, turning to more pressing matters.

Specifically, Twilight. The rancher groaned from behind him, and Time spared a moment to turn and help him sit up. With Wild crouched down, the orange dome didn’t offer much space. Neither of them would be able to stand fully, but sitting was better than laying prone.

Twilight gasped when he saw Wild. “What in Ordonia’s name?” He muttered.

Time raised a pointed brow at the rancher, who simply gestured at Wild. “Just, how is he doing that?” 

“Magic.”

“Yeah, but Wild doesn’t have magic!” In response, Time gestured to Wild, indicating that Twilight should explain the picture in front of them if he was so insistent that Wild had magic. He wondered why Twilight was so caught up on this fact.

It was true, Time had never seen Wild use any magic that didn’t come from an outside source before, but that didn’t mean that Wild simply didn’t have any. Perhaps he just didn’t like using his magic in combat. 

“No, I know that spell.” Twilight insisted. ”He’d told me about it before. It’s not his magic. It was-” Twilight hesitated for a moment, but seemed to decide that the situation was dire enough for him to tell Time without Wild’s permission. “This magic he’s using is called Daruk’s Protection. It was given to him by the spirit of the Goron Champion when Wild freed his soul.”

Time knew about the champions. Well, mostly he knew about Mipha. Wild had shown Time a picture of the Zora before, and explained how they used to be fiances. Wild had admitted, after a little prodding, that he’d told Time because he was the only hero in the group that was married, the one most likely to understand. 

But Wild had never said much about the other champions. Too sore of a wound to reopen for no reason, Time suspected. It made sense that Twilight knew though. Wild was often more open with the rancher.

But that still didn’t explain why Twilight thought any of this was important enough to mention. Twilight must have realized that, as he continued.

“After the Calamity was defeated, the spirits of the champions moved on, and took their magic with them. Wild can’t perform those spells anymore. This-“ Twilight gestures to the orange barrier, “Shouldn’t be possible.” 

As he spoke, Twilight moved over to next to where Wild was crouched. He hovered uncertainty, not knowing if it would be wise to touch the champion. 

Time considered that. It was interesting, but they had more important things to worry about than Wild rediscovering some lost magic. 

He followed Twilight, shuffling along awkwardly. The cramped space made it hard to move, especially with his armor, but he was grateful he had enough room to move at all. The oppressive presence of tons of rock above their head only made the situation worse. Time had never considered himself to be claustrophobic, but the situation was uncomfortable nonetheless. 

Wild, who’d strangely remained silent through the pair's conversation, didn’t even look up as they shifted closer. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and every muscle in his body was tense. Now that he was closer, Time realized that Wild’s breathing was heavy and labored. 

“Wild?” Twilight took a chance, laying a hand on the Champion’s shoulder, but he received no reaction in response to the touch. Wild’s figure remained stiff where he was huddled under his shield. 

“Wild? It’s okay, your shield worked.” When Wild still didn’t even twitch, Twilight shot a concerned glance at Time. “A memory?” He suggested.

Time shook his head. “From what I understand, when he’s recalling a memory, he’s unresponsive and can't do anything. He’s certainly doing something now.”

There was a period of silence after that. Both of them knew that there was nothing more they could do but wait for the other heroes to hopefully dig them out. A deep sense of dread permeated the air. The sound of Wild’s breathing, which was growing more strained, was the only sound in the small space.

Neither one of them mentioned the glowing cracks that had spread along the barrier while they had been speaking. Neither of them needed to.

[aicosu]

Hellcheer Western Prompt

They're basically asleep when the neigh of a horse has them scrambling to their feet.

Eddie has to dive over the desk to shove his elbows down on Dustin's shoulders, both wrestling for a view out the broken shutters.

"People!" Dustin points out the obvious when he's pushed to the floor.

"Hide the guns!" Eddie barks, eyes still on the caravan of three kicking up dust through their two-manned ghost town.

"Which ones and where?"

They both turn to look at the piles of rifles, pistols, dynamite littering the surfaces of the entire building.

"Good point." Eddie palms his hair into his cheeks in thought. Fuck, strangers always meant acting. And that could be fun but lately it's been so stressful with the addition of their bounty posted from here to the north of winter's asshole. "Gimme the deputy badge."

"Nuh Uh!" Dustin scrambles up to protect his tin shield. "I hate being Sheriff!"

"No, I hate being Sheriff! They always want me to do shit for—"

"—last time I was Sheriff I had to change wheels—"

"—killing people constantly like I'm a fucking lawmen—"

"—and no one believes I'm old enough! No!"

"Gimme it!"

Another horse whinnies at the crack of a reign and Eddie tackles Dustin to the ground both scuffing spurs in a pathetic tussle on the jail building floor for less responsibility.

——

"Well, howdy."

"You the Sheriff?"

Eddie sucks his teeth with a cringe against the porch beam, and Dustin chuckles at his side. "Sure am."

"Place abandoned?"

It takes Eddie a second to realize the person he's talking to might be dame wearing a fake mustache. But he realizes it all the same, blinking against the dirt in the air and the sun in the sky. They have brown chopped hair and sharp angles in their face… plus pants on. So maybe a boy but… "Mine accident."

They whistle, unloading themselves from shotgun with shotgun. "Is it still safe for stopping?"

"We don't have hands for the saloon or board." Dustin rushes to say. Eddie pats him with approval. They really don't need stranger blowing their fake town cover.

"We have our own things. Provisions, linen, rafters, entertainment, and drink and most in the back would feel a mightier safer with a couple of lawmen to look out for bandits and wolves instead of me."

Eddie doesn't get a chance to protest.

"I'm the Ringer Robin by the way, should any introductions be made while we park our fares for just a few days. Ringer as in ringleader, leader as in—"

"It's a circus!" Dustin exclaims with a cough of excitement in his kiddy cheeks. He thumbs at the side of the caravan with a huge grin.

Eddie glares, leaning one way to see the painted canvas displayed on the three wagons. Circus. Real low in the laying.

"I don't think—"

"We'd do a show for you, Sheriff!"

God he hated being fucking called that.

"We're staying?" A voice flits from the back.

They all turn, and there in the shafts of sunlight burning gold into red on the edge of the world, forms a girl made from its last wink. A precious coin lost in dust. A delicate dandelion seed adrift in the west.

A lady.

She steps down from the caravan with grace he's not known, with clean hair and cleaner skin.

Adnorned in, uh, uhm, fuck, not much!

"Mm—hrnu-who—hungh-m-m-m—"

"Ma'am." Dustin achieves what he can't and has the decency to tip his hat all the way down to the ground as she quite literally traipses by in nothing but a strap suit that exposes her whole leg and backside, little hip ruffles not at all decent in covering anything more than what modesty she had left.

She chitters to Robin's side dangling finge and gems, great big, very valuable, and possible fence-able rhinestone eyes blinking at him.

At him. At him. At him!

"This is our lady of trapeze, who should very much stay in the wagon until I sa—"

"I'm bloodless in my legs." She whispers back with the shyest dip of her cutest nose. And it's been exactly five months since Eddie's seen anything as beautiful as her. The last being a peek of a sweet family dinner from a window outside the city. And she's immensely more delicious. Her eyes find him with demure excitement. "We heard rumor that the Crow Killer is a town over—"

"Crow Killer! HA! How fun, who, uh—what's, what's that?" Dustin's voice is loud enough in protest that the horse's scamper.

"Nope! Sorry, my deputy forgets the Marshalls visit fortnights ago…" Eddie grabs him by the neck to squeeze him quieter as subtly as possible. "Our, uh, sad little town of grief has no business for the likes of that…. Degenerate! I'm sure!"

"Sheriff Eddie's right, no... no shadow caped killer of hundreds to be found here. Nope. No nightime burgles or larceny... no, no, no."

The trapeze artist has such gall to look disappointed that Eddie has to resist falling to his knees before her and handing her his bounty and screaming, it's me! It's me!

"We're better off, I'm sure," Robin squints. "Come on, Chrissy girl, let's get everyone roped over by the water tower."

"That's empty." Dustin lies. The only two left of them doing his goddamn job. "It's really not the best place to camp."

Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy. Not even a Mary Anne or a Harriet type aristocrat name to make him retch. But a little jingle jangle name like tying a Chrissy to a mill for luck! Help him!

"Have you caught many outlaws?" Chrissy distractedly asks him, not moving to help Robin or his sanity.

He stares down at sweet cream skin and caramel spun hair like it's a mirage for a hungry desperado out of luck. "Uh, well, I, I've uh, yes! Of, course! P-part of the job, little… lady. Little... bird. Miss. Ma'am!"

Now he really sounds like every other belt-belly tight police man whose only skil was turning locks.

"Maybe we'll stay awhile and you could tell us Sheriff stories by the fire?" She leans in even as Robin calls for her.

She smells like yarrow in milk and honey.

"You really can't stay." Dustin says urgently at his elbow. Eddie puts a hand on the kid's face to push him backward.

"Yes! I'd be honored, to uh, be at the service of a proper debutante." He grins wide. When she giggles he gets worse. "A proper artist—angel, even! Of the skies! A... sheriff of the cloud themselves! Y-yes."

"Oh, good!" She smiles.

Dustin groans into his palm long and loud.

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves

Chapter 9 (Finale)

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 1892 (it's a short-but-sweet ending)

A/N: I wanted this Walter to be a bit more feral during the series, but the ordeal Alex went through would not permit it during this part of their relationship. I certainly hope no one feels let down.

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, alcohol, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI. Edit: If you were here before, know that I removed drug use and drug addiction, as well as makeup sex. I had a plan and things changed, as they so often do.

Chapter Warnings: Oral sex (m and f receiving), flashback make-out session, extremely harmless possessiveness, missionary with abandon, saccharine sweet fluff.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist:  Night Moves Song 30 Direct Spotify Link; NOTE: I also added the rest of the main songs I listened to while writing this story. They all feed the atmosphere in one way or another, but I never found a good chapter segment for them. One exception: Song 31 is an alternative to Walter's shower scene in Chapter 4.

Masterlist

The first time Alex puts her mouth on Walter’s cock since her nightmare it’s all he can do not to come right then and there. 

Okay it isn’t exactly the first time her mouth has been on his cock since the bandages came off, but he doesn’t really count the tender pecks she gave him after peeking her pretty pink tongue out to wet her lips. That wasn’t really her mouth, it was just her lips. Okay, and her tongue. The tip of her tongue. Yeah, she had slipped that out and licked the head of his shaft. And, yeah, it wasn’t just the tip. He definitely recalls the way she flattened her tongue against him and dragged her spit up and down his cock a few times.

But what Alex hasn’t been able to do until tonight is open her mouth wide and slide the bulbous head between her lips, letting her tongue drag hot and wet along the underside while she holds him firm in her hand. And it’s the way she stares up at him from her spot on her knees in front of him that takes Walter right back to that first time and the way she had practically begged him for it.

She had wanted him to tell her what to do, when to do it, how. She had ached for his power and that was what had made him almost come in her mouth immediately that first time and that is exactly what is making it hard for him not to come in her mouth right now.

He knows she’s still going to take it slow. And as hard as it was for her to take him as deep as he wanted her to that first time, it’s exponentially harder for her to do that now. She’s been in physical therapy three or four times a week for almost two months and she did tell him she specifically asked about this activity and received the go ahead along with a few cautions. So he’s content with just the tip in her mouth and ecstatic she is so eager to deepen the connection of their relationship.

Not that Walter is ever going to complain about the amount of pussy he gets to eat, because what is life without that pleasure? He would spend all day and night between her legs if he could somehow get the city of Minneapolis or the university to pay for it. He relishes the sweet nectar he gathers from her delicate flower. Savors every drop.

And when Alex signals she has had enough, which is always way too soon for his taste, he luxuriates in the way his dick slides effortlessly inside her, while still filling her completely, stretching her wide, so she is squeezing around him, pulsing and hot.

Walter could hover over her forever, driving his cock into her again and again, deeper and harder and faster, in whatever way she begs him for. Or lay below her, holding on to her hips while she slow grinds her own self to orgasm. Or bounce her up and down with all the force he can muster. Whatever it takes to make her come hard around him, moaning his name as loudly as she can manage.

So when Alex takes his cock in hand after he pushes her to the floor and tells her to take him out and put him in her mouth, she obliges gladly and he wants to explode. He holds on long enough to keep up the tough guy act, the one that had her squirming in her seat while he teased her about the way that guy at the bar was watching her.

Walter had clocked him the minute they walked in for a quick drink after work before getting ready for their dinner date. And if Alex hadn’t told him right outside the door that she needed to pee immediately, he wouldn’t have let her race ahead of him so that it was almost impossible for anyone who didn’t already know they were together to tell. And so the guy had watched her rush to the hall leading to the bathrooms and he had watched to see her come back out and head his way, towards the bar.

Walter had watched him straighten up just a little, puff out his chest, cock his head and shift a bit on the stool. Alex was waiting to pick up the drinks they always drank together at this bar while Walter held the table in the corner they would always sit at so he could keep an eye on the people. He could see the way the guy had bent over toward Alex and offered his hand and he just knew the guy was asking what she was drinking. 

And when the bartender dropped two glasses in front of her without even asking for her order, he could see the guy’s face drop just a bit. But he recovered, Walter could tell, as if he decided the glasses must be for her and a friend. And Walter could see the way the guy was just this close to thinking he might even be lucky enough to bag a threesome with Alex and her friend until she picked up the glasses and wished him a good night without any hint of flirtation and headed over to their table. 

At which point the guy could now see the friend wasn’t who he thought it was and seeing his chances at one woman, let alone two, for the night dashed by a grumpy-looking bearded and curly haired man, he quickly slapped a twenty on the bar and hit the head. Walter was secretly glad the guy hadn’t just left the bar altogether, because otherwise how could he have leaned over to whisper in Alex’s ear when the guy came out of the restroom to resume his prowling along the tiny dance floor near the jukebox, asking her if she’d noticed the way that guy at the bar had watched her pretty ass.

And of course he knew she knew the guy had been checking her out, but she played a little innocent and whispered back that there was no way she could see what was going on behind her and was he jealous anyway?

She loved to rile him up this way. Loved it when he grabbed the seat of her chair and pulled her a little closer, put his hand on her nape gently and rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck in a subtle sign of possessiveness. It drove her positively mad and he knew she’d be dripping before they ever left the bar. It wasn’t that Walter ever for even one second believed she’d be interested in that guy or any other guy for that matter. It was just a way to remind each other that nothing would ever compare, a way to ensure that he would show her just who she belonged to later while she did exactly the same for him.

When she pulls off him, he knows she’s had enough and he isn’t asking her for more of her mouth on his cock because he knows she needs to save her strength for the way he’s going to kiss her once he’s done slipping his tongue between her legs and nipping at her clit and shoving a few fingers deep inside her so she’s begging, pleading, aching for release.

Before she’s even done pulsing he’s hauling himself up her body, kissing every inch of skin he can manage, reveling in the way she moans and gasps trying to catch her breath while he drags his lips and beard over her body. He has no problem sliding his rock-hard cock deep inside her, pushing past the hot clench of her pussy even as he pauses at one of her pebbled nipples so he can catch it between his teeth and tease her with nips and bites and licks. He palms at the other breast and without looking up knows she’s tilted her head down to stare at the way his fingers press into her flesh.

He’s never going to get over the way this woman yields for him. She’s so tough, a warrior even. She fought for her life, fought to regain her independence, fought to heal herself. And through it all she did him the honor of letting him stand by her side and accepted every last ounce of his support without question.

Walter never had to convince her that he knew she could do it alone and he never had to convince her that he really wanted to be there with her. Alex just knew.

He wants to kiss her mouth while he’s fucking into her but he knows it’ll be too much so he contents himself with staring into her eyes and telling her how well she’s taking him, how hot and wet she feels, how he can feel her pulsing around him and opening for him. He watches as she blushes with pride and pleasure, bites her bottom lip to keep the primal scream in while he takes a few final strokes and finally moves in the way he knows will hit just the right spot and fights to keep his eyes open so he can watch her come apart with him.

It isn’t until after he’s dropped himself on top of her and nuzzled into her neck for a moment while he catches his breath, then rolled to the side and tugged her so she’s snug against him, that he puts his hand against her cheek with care and leans in to press his lips against hers. He glides the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip and catches the top lip between his own in a sweet sincere kiss, a sharp contrast to the hedonistic way she had just let him drill into her.

Walter lets her decide when and for how long she’s going to deepen this kiss with him. Alex knows her limits and he trusts she only holds back when she thinks it’s too much physically, never emotionally. She never holds back her emotions from him. She lets him in on every post-traumatic feeling she has and makes sure he never questions why she sometimes asks for space to process everything that happened to her.

And she also makes space for him to heal. Lets him come to terms with his part in it and makes sure he knows she never once blamed or held him responsible for any of it. She lets him know that no matter what had happened to her, the whirlwind of feelings that had begun so soon after their first meeting hadn’t died down or shifted or been tied to the troublesome events in her mind.

He doesn’t quite want to leave this bed, but he also knows they only have a finite amount of time before they need to be in the shower so they can dry off and dress and head out for dinner. He has plans and he will not see them dashed, though he’d gladly stay in bed and enjoy her again. It’s just he already arranged to have Angie drop Faye off at the restaurant.

And Faye will be waiting with the ring.

Taglist: (If you asked for a tag and it’s not here, Tumblr likely isn’t letting me tag you. Ask if you want me to try again - though this story is over.)

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit​ (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @anotherwinchesterfangirl @sebbytrash​ @feelmyroarrrr​)

NM: @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @kingliam2019​ @henryownsme​ @littlefreya​  @marantha​ @angelcavill66​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @liveoncoffeeandflowersss​ @greensleeves888​ @dinoswierdmom​ @geralts-yenn​ @wabi-sabi1090​ @bourbonwithice​

[ofcorpses]

*cracks knuckles* ew i wrote something from the depths of my hell brain residency

dawn had yet to rise. night, bolstered by both heavy clouds and the new moon, blanketed pickens in near total blackness. any brightness shed by far-spaced street lights or passing cars didn't stretch this far into the south carolina woods. if harley turned her gaze skyward, she didn't think she would find a singular star in the sky.

how many times had she found herself drifting through utter darkness? how many more times would she found herself right back in this place, thinking over the many times she had already been here and how many more times were yet to come? how many times was she supposed to have the rug yanked out from beneath her? how many times did the world expect her to crawl her way up out of the seemingly endless mine shaft it dropped her into?

her feet, much like they had many goddamn times over, carried her forward of their own volition. to rise from her bed and slip out from under the worried watchful eyes of a found family into the dead of night. to wander from the familiarity of asphalt roads in favor of delving into the woods - her second home, so lovely and dark and deep - in search of the crow's path.

bare foot and drowning in a well worn henley many sizes too big - the comforting scent of jesse fast fading from the fibers and, maybe, that fact would have panicked her more if her mind hadn't fallen into a fog so dense nothing could pierce it - harley's body carried her through the woods. it ignored the briars and branches that snagged at jesse's shirt, at the sweatpants already beginning to droop even barely a week removed. it paid no mind to the chilling last dredges of a mild winter. it simply moved her forward, step after step, until satisfied with their destination.

her chest rose and fell in a long, slow breath. when she blinked, harley's eyes watered as if her eyes had been fixed open and unblinking for so long they had become dry. a shudder raced along her body, the fading scents of anger and sorrow and fear and hunter and wolf and fox rushed towards the fog - hellbent on penetrating it, on ripping it away.

the scents were stale, clinging on like ghosts to tell the story of what happened here. they did nothing to pierce the fog. that armor of sorts stayed in place, letting harley observe this place from far, far away.

there was no overgrown grass, not in the dead of winter, to cover up the flurry of tracks marring the ground. too many bodies where they didn't belong, invading a space they should have never been near. she should have realized it for what it was that afternoon. she knew jesse best; the wolf would have never let her get so close as to be standing in front of his trailer with how they had ended things.

she didn't need the moon or the stars or electricity to see the impressions left behind by the hunter and by jesse, by herself and rev and rose in the far removed aftermath. she saw the gouges in the broken down door, flung from its hinges with force and left abandoned in the dead grass. harley stood over it.

to her left, the empty maw of the trailer yawned - it's darkness somehow deeper and more black than the nighttime. she could go inside. run her fingers along the furniture, find the things of jesse's most frequently used, cocoon herself in his blankets on his bed with all of his books shoved underneath lest someone somehow find out how much he loved to read. she could lay there and wither away in the comforting memory of the times when he'd tell her about what he was reading. when he'd held her after the kidnapping, fingers combing through her hair and quieting her after the nightmare where jesse died rescuing her. where everyone died because of her and if she could have spoken she would have told them not to, would have told them she would be okay with dying to keep them safe.

to her right, the woods continued on. waiting for her to follow the tracks inside. waiting for her to trace her way through to the place where jesse had died, clawing open the earth that greedily soaked up the blood flowing from the hunter's bullet holes. waiting for her to find his beautiful blonde fur stained and matted because she had to be the one to find him. anyone else wouldn't have blinked twice, would have left the carcass there to rot or hauled it off to do god knows what with.

the fog willed her to turn towards the trailer, to the memories waiting to swallow her down and keep her sedated until something gave way. curling up in the center of his bed - of they bed they had shared - sounded easy. familiar. she knew where he kept his stash; if it was still there, sleep would come easily. she could sleep and sleep and sleep and sle-

something deep within the fog turned her towards the woods and harley's feet obeyed. they carried her into the torn up underbrush, slowly chasing the path of the layered scents. the hunter, adrenaline and fear bleeding off of him. jesse, anger and sorrow mixed in even measure. her own gut-clenching nerves wafting over top theirs. it plucked a tuft of blonde wolf's fur free from where bark had snagged it, fisted it her hand so tightly her palms bled.

there was no body at the end of the trail. there was just the scene of the crime left for the hunter to walk away from, left for jesse to rot in, left for harley to find. the heavy bootprints, the faint tread of her light steps, the churned up ground from jesse's death throes.

it was harley who took the first tentative step onto the tainted earth. against the fog's urging to turn back and find herself somewhere less painful.

harley who stepped lightly, afraid to disturb anything else, into her own steps.

harley who knelt where she had tripped and fallen next to jesse's body in her pursuit of reaching the end of the trail.

harley who slowly lowered herself onto her side in the stained earth with her mate's fur clutched in one hand. clutched to her trembling heartbeat while she curled in on herself, face turned towards the earth and breathing in the smell of jesse's blood, of jesse's death.

[viva-la-whump]

Whumptober/Whumperless Whump Event (WWE) - #9

Super short one this time

And even though it's short, this one has even more tags HERE

“It’s your fault!” Caleb screamed at them. “My master is dead and it’s because of you!” The teen turned and ran down the dark cave.

“Kid, wait!” Hunter called after him, intending to try and catch him, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Let him go,” Crosshair urged. “We’re already down one man; we can’t risk losing you, too.”

Hunter sighed and looked to where Tech was trying to put splints on Wrecker’s legs with the few supplies and resources they had in this abandoned mine. They were down by a lot more than just one man.

The avalanche had started seemingly out of nowhere. They’d run as fast as they could in a desperate and futile attempt to escape it. By some miracle, they’d almost literally stumbled upon an open mine shaft and scrambled in. They’d been with General Bilaba’s battalion. She and her young commander or apprentice or padawan or whatever those mysterious Jedi called themselves had kept pace with them as they ran. Hunter was able to snatch the young man and toss him into the mine…but he hadn’t been fast enough to save the general.

The tunnel had collapsed behind them as the avalanche raged above them, falling rock and debris trapping Wrecker’s legs, breaking both of them. As far as Hunter knew, they were the only ones who’d survived the disaster, and now they were stuck inside the mountain until they could find some way to escape. But they couldn’t do that until they could devise some sort of litter for Wrecker.

And now Caleb had run off, angry and devastated over his master’s death.

Hunter sighed again as he turned away from where the kid had disappeared. There was nothing they could do for now, especially if he didn’t even want their help. The only hope they had, the only option before them, was to find a way to survive. And maybe, just maybe, Caleb would find a way, too.

[captain-of-silvenar]

F, G, H, M, and S for the fanfic asks!!!! <3333

Hi Bishop! Thanks for the ask!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Chapter 2 of First Impressions, referencing Yera wanting to go into the abandoned Raven Rock Mines:

“And what's to say the opposite? Maybe there is something lurking in the mines that caused it to close off and no one's been able to find out. Maybe just one last look around will be our luck instead.”

“Says someone who sounds like they want a cave-in. I thought you hired me to be a guide?” Teldryn asked.

“As you are, and I am putting my trust in you right now that you're the mer for the job and will keep me safe. So how is an old and empty mine anymore dangerous than a cave we'll explore later outside the Bulwark?”

He wasn't going to fall for this, this had to be a kind of test. His judgment couldn’t have been this wrong to tie himself to someone willing to go blindly - literally! - into an old mining shaft abandoned for nearly a century just for fun. No, he was putting his foot down like he's done before and holding his ground.

“If you need me to spell it out for you, I will,” he started. “Who knows how long those walls have eroded away and are structurally unsound at this point. And if we ignore that, I'm sure all those nooks and crannies are filled with all sorts of skeever or whatever beasts crawled their way in from the outside. Should we get in a cave-in but survive then we’d have no way of getting back out on account of the fact there’s only one way inside. You can try to convince me, sera, but there is no way I am getting anywhere near those mines or Azura help me-”

* * *

"But mark my words, these mines hold a secret that could put Raven Rock back on the map."

I enjoyed writing this scene for a few reasons. The comedic timing of cutting way to Yera absolutely dragging Teldryn toward the mines was too good an opportunity to pass up.

And also it showed the kind of personality Yera has to the audience at the moment. Maybe reckless, maybe over confident, but self assured in her own worth to speak of it jokingly in the face of Teldryn giving actual advise about risks.

Plus it's funny to put characters in situations. Always put your characters in situations, it's for enrichment.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I very much write out of order. I've tried writing from start to finish a lot in my life and I always get stuck and never get to the scene I want to write. So I just learned to skip right to the part I want to write the most and then backtrack to see if I can make it fit.

Most of the time I can, sometimes it just doesn't work but words written down are better than lost in your mind.

H: How would you describe your style?

I would say that I'm very scene orientated. I like to set the stage and describe the feeling of an area before jumping into it. I also do like a character focus perspective and how they interpret things through their own lens.

What might be overlooked by one character, another would latch onto and mentally describe it for the audience to understand what makes the character tick or gleeful.

I'm also always open to trying out different things and seeing how it works out. I've always written just for myself but I'm working on breaking out of it and sharing my work online, just to get a new experience.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I might've spoken about it in the tags of another post, but I got this fic with a Maormer/Mermaid brewing in the back. Mermaids were my childhood obsession so I just revived it and now it's half of what I think of these days, haha.

Another is this really strange and angsty/whump fic I have between Yera and Miraak. Of a premise where he wins, absorbs her soul, and the consequences of eating another soul that eats other immortal souls. What happens when two of them are placed in one body? Bad things I'll tell you!

And one I do have published but hasn't been updated in a few years is The Telvanni Master fic on Ao3. It follows my character Lorana Alithar and how she is viewed by several characters with different degrees of familiarity. Writing a story about her, without ever having her speak as the main voice. Really fun!

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Enemies to lovers; bodyguards to lovers; found family; star-crossed lovers; a lot of romantic tropes haha.

When it comes to fandom tropes, I'm actually not quite versed in them or I kind of ignore them. Comes with the territory of just sitting in your own writing and not really delving deep into the fandom territory.

But a good trope where a character has to self-reflect and evaluate themselves against new information is tasty and good to explore.

ask meme can be found here!

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Charles Lynn Simmons

In January of 2004, fifty two year old Charles Lynn Simmons had a lot to look forward to- he was actively saving up money to open his own gem and mineral shop, something he was deeply passionate about, and to top it off, the annual Tucson Gem and Mineral Show was only a few days away (The Tucson Gem and Mineral Show is the largest, and oldest, gem and mineral show in the world.) Charles was enthralled with gems, and made a lot of friends within the network he was so passionate about. A childhood friend of over forty years, said this about Charles-

”Chuck almost had a sickness about rocks. Maybe that's not the right word--more like a passion. But he loved his rocks."

Charles was also described as very trusting and old fashioned- he didn’t use the internet or own a cell phone- but this unconditional trust in others often led him to loaning out money, or gems, to those within the community. A lot of people owed Charles Simmons a lot of money, but according to Patterson, these mounting debts didn’t seem to bother him too much. However, one particular associate of Charles owed him over $400,000 dollars in 2004, and Charles had sought legal council in order to be paid back.

Charles co-owned a mine in Morenci, Arizona, which took him away from home for weeks at a time in order to mine it. On January 14th, Charles had only been home for a few days time after returning from Morenci- all that is publicly known about his day was that he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. After that, Charles vanished. When no one could get in touch with him again, his friends were confused- they knew that Charles was extremely excited about the upcoming Gem and Mineral show, and they knew he wouldn’t leave town without contacting anyone, first. He was reported missing two days later, after contacting a distance cousin in Phoenix to submit a report on their behalf.

On January 17, 2004, Charle’s Ford F-150 was located, sitting in a parking lot on the corners of North Stone and East Toole avenues, in Tucson. Strangely, his truck was parked across the street from a warehouse called Zee’s Gallery and Warehouse, owned by Zee Haag, a business associate of Charles. Zee is the man who owed Charles $400,000, whom Charles was seeking legal advice about. When inspecting the truck, police noted that the state of the truck was normal- nothing out of the ordinary. Charles girlfriend, Franny Young, spoke to 13 news about the truck, saying-

”It was unlike him to leave his truck there. It didn't look like anything was wrong with it, it was just there."

Police learned that when Charles disappeared, Zee rented a van, which he immediately drove to California. They were able to access the van, and found a dried liquid on the panel- police also found DNA that likely belonged to Charles. Despite these findings, without a body or concrete proof of foul play, the case went cold.

Police spoke to people in Southern California, considering that Charles may have been buried somewhere in the desert between Tucson and Southern California, but things only continued to grow colder in their investigation. The case hit a standstill until January 2015, when police got information that they deemed credible from an unknown source. This tip led them to an abandoned mine shaft deep within the Saguaro National Park, on the northwest end. Investigators extensively searched the abandoned mine, and the area surrounding it, but came up empty handed. After this, they felt like they were back to square one- downtown Tucson, focusing on the gem and mineral show, specifically. A detective on the case stated that he still felt like the tip about the mine shaft held some weight, however.

Police continue to monitor the gem and mineral show in Tucson every year, in hopes that someone may came forward with information, or that someone may “slip up” and say something. With lack of concrete evidence, no one has been named a suspect or person of interest in the disappearance of Charles Lynn Simmons, but they do say that no one has been cleared of any wrong doing, either.

Charles friends and long time girlfriend hope to bring him home one day, with Scott Patterson stating that all of Charles friends are dedicated to his memory, and will “pull out all the stops” in order to find him.

When last seen, Charles was described as standing at 6’1”, weighing 180 pounds, with brown hair and grey eyes, and a mustache. He also goes by the name Chuck. There has been no financial activity on Charles’ records since he disappeared.

[ivorydice]

Mineshaft 👀

(or insert whatever no one has asked you about yet here!)

LOL of course you'd eye up mineshaft! :D <33333 @oftincturedwords asked about this one too so here we go!

So naturally, because this is me, Noctis and his friends are in a bit of a tough spot financially. AKA they're broke and out of curatives. They recently had an altercation with a guy which resulted in Gladio getting badly injured due to protecting Noctis, it was a very close call for him, and it used up the rest of their resources getting him to recover.

They need money ASAP, for some supplies and some downtime. They need to rest, Gladio still needs to rest. And so Noctis accepts a hunt for them at an abandoned mining village. Just one hunt, a quick job to get some good cash, to get supplies and let Gladio heal completely.

Except it's an abandoned mining village. It isn't maintained, it hasn't been maintained in decades, and things go south quickly. One thing leads to another, and Noctis and Gladio both end up getting kicked down an unstable shaft, falling deep into the mine below, and they end up trapped there, injured and on their own, cut off from the world above.

I honestly love the vibes of this fic. It's kind of like a ghost story? This fic is, of course, a whumpy fic, but it's also angsty and emotional and it's about guilt and secrets and grief. I honestly didn't expect it to take such an emotional turn when I started it, I thought it was just going to be a 10k oneshot of the two of them hurt and just trapped in a mineshaft lol, instead it's going to end up more than 30k and there are all of these FEELINGS XDDDD I love it. Hoping to get it posted soon!

Lil' snippet:

He’s only taken a few steps back towards the motel when Noct’s voice stops him.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Gladio pauses, then turns to look back at him. Noct’s eyes are on him now, but his face is unreadable, and he’s still clutching at the notebook on his lap, thumb slowly tapping against the cover. Gladio gives the question some consideration, then says, “I don’t think I’ve thought about it too much.”

“My mom believed in ghosts,” Noct says softly, and a flash of surprise hits Gladio like a jolt. “She used to say the south-east tower of the Citadel was haunted.”

He can only stare, confused and curious and wondering. It’s rare for Noct to talk about his mother, rarer even than King Regis himself. “I didn’t know that,” Gladio responds, not knowing what to say and yet not wanting to shove Noct back into silence. “Haunted by who? Some ancestor of yours?”

Noct gives a grin, although it's barely even a half-formed thing. “No idea.” He looks down, fiddling with the notebook, and Gladio waits as patiently as he can until Noct speaks again. “Cinis, tomorrow,” he says. “It’s supposed to be haunted. Or that’s what the tipster said.”

Ah, maybe that’s what brought all of this on. “Probably haunted by daemons, more like,” Gladio answers lightly.

Noct nods at that, slowly and thoughtfully. “The tipster said it’s because of the disaster. All the anger and sadness and guilt ties the people who died there.”

“Isn’t that the usual story for these things?” Gladio suggests. He’s not sure what Noct is getting at here, it’s not exactly important information for their hunt tomorrow, and it doesn’t help that both his eyes and tone don’t really let anything on. But, with everything that has happened lately, there are some possibilities. Death has shadowed Noct’s life since before he was born. It’s the sword hanging above the neck of every king of Lucis. It makes sense that Noct would think of ghosts.

“I can’t disprove they exist,” Gladio says eventually. It’s not really giving much, but he’d rather fill the silence than let it linger. “I’ve never seen one before. Have you?”

Noct is silent for a moment. That shouldn’t be so surprising, but it is. But then he lifts his gaze again and gives a bashful grin. “Nah, guess not. Would be cool, though, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gladio replies. “Make sure Prompto is with you when you do see one. Bet he’d love to snap a picture of it if he could.”

Noct lets out a soft noise, something like a chuckle. “I bet he would.” He stares at Gladio for a moment longer, looking like he wants to say something else. Then he nods towards the motel room. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

[lost-the-plot-reviews]

1917  - 2019                                  Dir. Sam Mendes

Date Watched: May 8, 2023         Platform: BBC iPlayer (until Jun 7th)

TW: War, Gore, Blood, Explosions, Gunfire, Death, Burn Victims, Loud Noises, Jump-scares

Synopsis: Set in the intense trench warfare of the First World War, 1917 follows two British Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield as they are sent to deliver an urgent message to an isolated regiment to prevent 1,600 men from walking into a deadly trap. The mission sees the pair cross no man’s land and through supposedly abandoned enemy trenches to deliver the orders before it’s too late. Shot and edited to create the illusion of being one continuous take. 1917 follows the two courageous men through every step of their dangerous journey.

Rating: 5/5

Review: Again something I have been meaning to get round to watching and I have this on DVD so absolutely no excuse but as someone who isn’t so connected with war strategies and army jargon like the generations before me, purposely watching a period war epic wasn’t really on my immediate to do list. However when I found this film showing on BBC2 I decided to sit tight and make the time and I am so pleased that I did. Following the main characters through trenches and no man’s land in war torn France through one “continuous” shot means you don’t miss anything out, there are next to no gaps in the protagonists story that could leave you confused or distracted. I felt like a video game particularly the way the camera pans around the characters. Following this story in such closed parameters as this allows you as a viewer to experience the gruesome and terrifying atrocities of WW1 close-up but not so much that it can overwhelm. The characters are always moving, they have to be determined to just get to their destination no matter what so we don’t have time to dwell on the rat infested mine shaft or the mass of dead bodies damming the river. There are plenty of jump scares which again reminded me of a video game just a bit. These scares aren’t overused and are a very effective way to have the grim reality of war acknowledged by the characters and the story. The fear of every breath being your last is very real in this film and the story doesn’t shy away from sudden deaths. Even with the characters’ need to keep going desensitising them from the horrors around them, there are some extremely emotional beats in moments where I as a viewer felt like I needed to cry just by the sheer rollercoaster I felt I had gone on with the protagonists. The ending isn’t necessarily a happy one but, with the help of a score by Thomas Newman, the film ends on a hopeful note. Rather than a joyful ending the emotion is more relief as the script could’ve ended on a far gloomier note and you are incredibly thankful it didn’t.

This war epic feels like one of the most accessible I have seen as the no-visible-cuts approach in the edit does wonders for the pacing. It could have ran for an extra hour and I probably would not have noticed. Even one of the major plot points that happened at the half way mark had me questioning if it was too early for that to happen but only because I had felt like it had barely been on ten minutes. I say that as a compliment because with my attention span and tendency to tune out of media even when I am actually interested in it, this film engaged me from start to finish to the point that I didn’t want to leave the room for anything. I wish I’d seen this in the cinema at the time but again gritty war epics aren’t really marketed to me and maybe they should but also maybe I should be more open minded. Also I am like an OG George McKay stan (I voted for him when he was nominated for BAFTA Rising Star and I’m still sad he didn’t win) and I think his performance in this should’ve been more recognised during award season, I don’t really understand how anyone is still sleeping on him after seeing this film but anyway you were still my favourite lost boy George. Now if you are technically minded about the making of films like me you might be desperate to understand how this film appears to be one long take. This is almost exclusively editing trickery like no fortunately they didn’t have to shoot perfectly for two hours like how would that work outside of a play anyway. The effect was created using invisible transitions such as when the characters go into pitch darkness or behind objects and set pieces for example. It doesn’t ruin the immersion but allows for cuts to be made however it does require a lot of precision and rehearsal. It reported took 6 months for the actors to rehearse this film before shooting so they could get every detail precise and accurate. As a result the longest unbroken shot is only 8 ½ minutes and the shortest just shy of 40 seconds. Editor Lee Smith also worked on the Bond film Spectre so if you are at all familiar with the opening of that film than this might give you an idea of the undertaking that was the process of making 1917. This film really affected me in a way I didn’t expect and I think I would choose to watch it again, the level of immersion, emotion and stakes is why I have awarded 5/5. I urge everyone to make time for this movie even if you think you won’t like it.

[moontouched-cryptid]

Things set in Motion

Demi adjusted the array, brow furrowed. Then she noticed what had gone wrong. A rodent had chewed through a cable. She sighs and pulls a small repair kit out, swapping out the needed parts. Then she closes the protective covering, cursing herself for having forgotten to secure it last time.

She clambers down, and back to the abandoned mine before finding her way to a shockingly well appointed haven. Built up into the abandoned remains of some long forgotten shaft mine. A hand runs over the wolf-wraith creature, smiling at the familiar semi-solid smoke feel of it. A little bit of push, like moving one's hand through water, but as if it were dry.

Dolche lets out a deep and reverberating sound and Demi laughs softly.

She checks and grins, having gotten her link back up.

The first post that greeted her made her freeze, and Dolche's head to shoot up.

What is it Little One?

“I don't think they're giving me much of a choice anymore...”

The creature of Death and Smoke walked around her charge and then paced back and forth.

If... If you go speak on your terms. You will have the best chance.

“Dolche. You're the one who told me to run.”

If you set the meeting on your terms. Closer to your territory. Maybe you can negotiate what you want. Demi. My purpose and existence is to protect you. I know if you stop existing... something bad happens to me. Would I steer you bad?

“...No.”

[notleriff]

Inheritance

It was three days back, now, that Rekks and Khaida had overheard the discussion between Leriff and the Brass Blades. Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern had a handful of miners go missing in the mines half a moon back, and when the investigations turned up nothing, they could only suspect foul play. The mine shafts were far too extensive to engage in a proper survey in search of the culprit, so the company instead outsourced the problem. Though there had been some grumbles, when the Brass Blades brought the proposal to Leriff, he had accepted it. 

Now, deep beneath the crags of Thanalan, Rekks and Khaida snuck about with nothing but the equipment on their backs and a torch to light the dim corridors of the mine. It turns out investigation came naturally to the two fledgling adventurers, and they hoped to solve this case and present it to Leriff like a child would a project. With a desire to earn the respect of the more experienced hunter, the novices delved further still. 

Ahead, the caverns opened up in unnatural ways, far larger than what the mineral company would have carved out for their own uses. The opening was twice, if not three times as tall as any man Rekks had ever known, and there were wooden support beams jammed into the rocks far above. “Do you think they abandoned this part of the shaft?” He turned his head to direct his question to Khaida as she brushed dirt off of a nearby marking stone.

She shook her head in response, carefully considering the room before answering. “I don’t even know if they used this part.” Using her crook, she motioned to the connecting corridors and uneven terrain. “There’s no lamps or anything of use here. Maybe they never got this far.”

Rekks concurred with a nod, lifting the torch to look about the cavern. When the light fell on the far wall, he clicked his tongue to summon Khaida’s attention. The flickering light was barely bright enough to reach the other end of the stone chamber, but it did illuminate the dark stains of something dried onto the rocks. There was no running or dripping water to cause the stain, and as the two made their way over to it, the torchlight grew bright enough to make out the cause. “Blood…” Rekks let out a sour face and shuddered softly, lifting the torch further above his head to make out any other clues.

Placing her hand flat to the stain, Khaida knelt down to inspect the dried remains. “It’s not too old. Probably matches the time the miners went missing.” She stood slowly, using her crook to help push herself to her feet as she wiped her dirty hand on her robe. “It doesn’t look like any cave-in, and I doubt it was a workplace injury–far too much for that.” 

Rekks followed along with Khaida’s train of thought as she mused to herself quietly. “It’s dark enough to hide a body back here, if it were some sort of dispute, but why wouldn’t it be here where the blood is?” The young boy flitted the torch about for another clue. From the stained puddle, more stains veered off in another direction. “If someone moved it, they carried it. It didn’t get dragged away.”

While the youths were rather gifted in investigation, they were still novices, and the minor changes of the world around them were lost upon them. So when the pebbles on the ground vibrated, they did not take note of something large enough to make them do so. And when the air grew fouler in smell, it did not alert them that something was now wrong. The two were absorbed in their searching entirely, eyes bright and shining at the thought of the accolades they were to earn. It wasn’t until the very ground they stood upon shook that they snapped out of their respective trances to find the source.

Rekks whipped the torch around in time to spot the rapidly approaching hecatoncheir, a giant easily three times his size. There was no time to draw his sword from his belt as the creature lifted its mighty hammer and swung it with a thunderous force. The young man was fortunate enough to have a shield strapped to his arm, but when he instinctively brought the wooden buckler up to defend himself, the hammer blow shattered the simple barrier, crushing Rekks’ arm. As he let out a scream of pain, the hecatoncheir lifted that hammer high and swung it directly down on top of the boy.

Khaida snatched Rekks away just in time, grabbing him by his good arm and pulling hard. Seeing another hecatoncheir approaching, the two took off in a sprint back the way they came. It was only thanks to adrenaline that Rekks could even move, his arm hanging bloodied at his side. Khaida did her best to tend to him while they ran, splitting her attention with moving forward and focusing her curative magic into her companion’s arm, relying on the torchlight to keep her steps steady.

The giants were not far behind them, tearing through the caverns to reach the two. Whatever the miners had done, it was obvious now they had alerted the hecatoncheir to their presence, and it was these giants that had done their missing workers in. Unsure of how many there were, or where in the mines they made their home, Rekks focused on leading the two of them back to the occupied, but currently evacuated, shafts. He would formulate a plan later. Right now, the only hope was to put enough space between them and the giants that they could escape and alert someone of the danger.

The moment lantern light came into view, Rekks abandoned the torch. They no longer needed it to see, and holding it aloft was just slowing him down. The minutes they had been running felt like hours, and the wear was obvious on Khaida’s face. Focusing so heavily on both spellcraft and fleeing was taking its toll, and splitting her attentions so severely caused her to stumble. As the two approached a bridge above a ravine, her foot caught against the first wooden board and she pitched forward, slamming into the bridge railing hard. She bounced off the railing and rolled over it as all the air escaped her lungs. Her hand shot up, managing to catch the top of the rail and stop her fall, but the time it took Rekks to pull her back onto the bridge and to her feet was enough for one of the hecatoncheir to catch back up to the two. 

The rampaging monster barreled forward swinging, his great hammer smashing into one of the bridge supports, causing the wooden structure to shudder and buckle. Not stopping there, the giant followed the arc by lifting the hammer high with both hands before slamming it down. The bridge no longer had the support to hold both of their weights, and Khaida still desperately gasped to fill her lungs with air again. Rekks did the only thing his heart knew to do, and he shoved Khaida hard across the bridge as he dove out of the way of the hammer. The wooden structure let out its dying gasp in creaks and groans before the entire bridge buckled, stranding Khaida on the other side, now safe from the giant.

Rekks rolled over and over, trying to both avoid the crushing hammer as well as pull himself back to his feet. When the hecatoncheir swung too high, its hammer smashed the rock behind the young man and became lodged into the stone. Though Rekks tried to use this time to get away, he was not fast enough. The giant let go of the weapon with one hand and swung its fist, striking Rekks square in the stomach. The mighty blow was enough to lift the young boy off the floor and send him spiraling rearward, his back striking against the cavern wall behind him. 

There was no energy left for escape, and once the hecatoncheir had freed its hammer, Rekks could do nothing more than cast his glance across the chasm to see Khaida’s shrieks of horror. The giant leveled that imposing weapon and swung it wide to pulverize the fledgling adventurer into paste. Taking consolation with the knowledge that his last vision would be of Khaida, Rekks closed his eyes, only hearing the rushing wind of his approaching death, and a sudden burst, like the clap of thunder.

Like a bolt of lightning, Leriff had charged down the mine shaft and dove across the chasm. He braced his sword by planting his arm flat against the blade and smashed into the hecatoncheir, hooking his own weapon just below the hammerhead. The momentum pushed the giant back a step, knocking the heavy weapon aside. Without pause, Leriff took his sword and jammed it directly into the exposed knee of the giant, digging the weapon deep into the kneecap. When the creature lifted its hand to strike the hunter down, Leriff took his own hand and swiped it up along his blade. He dug his fingers into his palm and squeezed to bring the blood to the surface before whipping it directly into the hecatoncheir’s eyes, blinding the creature.

Unable to see the hunter now, the giant swung wildly, one such punch gliding over Leriff, who ducked beneath the blow, and only managing to swipe his hat the the floor. Leriff jumped up and planted his foot on the hilt of his sword, still dug deep into the creature’s knee. He used it like a stepping stone, using his foot to push the sword deep enough to sever tendon and muscle, and jumped off it. The man was like a snake, coiling around the large creature, and he pulled free a knife, jamming it into the giant’s armpit, disarming it of its hammer.

Unable to stand, the hecatoncheir stumbled backwards. Leriff used that momentum and wrapped his arms around the giant’s meaty bicep. He yanked down and slammed his feet into the back of the creature’s good knee, the bone crunching and giving way beneath his might. Tumbling with the creature, Leriff forced it to the ground, rolling its body and suplexed it off the side of the cliffedge, sending it hurling into the chasm below.

The sound of battle bounced off the walls from the far reaches of the mines, the Brass Blades pitched in battle with the other hecatoncheir echoing into the chamber. A small group of Ul’dah’s defense force had entered the chamber behind Leriff, and while some tended to Khaida, the others were constructing a makeshift bridge to reconnect the two rocky islands. As that work was done, Leriff helped Rekks to his feet and escorted him back to safety, careful when using the rickety boards across. As soon as the two had crossed, Khaida broke away from the Brass Blades and rushed to Rekks’ side, embracing him tightly. After their much needed reunion, the two turned to face Leriff, neither able to look the man in the face. 

“We came to help…” Rekks stammered, trying to hold back the tears of a chastised child. “We found a trail of blood–those big creatures–we were going to go for help–it was my fault, not Khaida’s–” The boy couldn’t finish a single thought, and Khaida couldn’t bring herself to talk. The two could only stand there, shaking and awaiting their admonishment. “We–” 

Leriff knelt down and wrapped his arms around each of them, pulling them both close in a hug. He wrapped his fingers in their hair and held them close, one on each shoulder. Khaida broke immediately, and Rekks was not far behind, adrenaline vacating their bodies in an instant. The children sobbed and grabbed at the hunter’s coat. “We’re so sorry!” Rekks blubbered his words from behind his tears, the terror finally making itself known. “We just wanted to be like you–I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Khaida echoed her companion’s words. “You’re not afraid of anything and–”

“Fire.”

The two let go of the man slowly, their tears fading to sniffles. Leriff slowly let them stand back up, moving his hands from embracing their backs to gently resting on their shoulders. The two young adventurers glanced at each other in confusion before returning their attention to Leriff. “What?”

“I’m afraid of fire.” Leriff smiled gently, that brilliant, disarming light in his eyes to set the two at ease. They were safe now, and that’s what mattered, but the lesson had to be taught. “If you wish to teach a child to swim, you do not throw him into the ocean.” Forcing each to look him in the eye as he spoke, he turned his attention from one to the other. “Do you understand?” When Khaida’s eyes fell to focus on her hands pulling against her robe and Rekks’ tried to find any refuge that was not on the man, Leriff shook them gently. “Look at me. I need you to understand.”

A deep sniffle was his first answer. Then Rekks lifted his hand and wiped the snot from his nose, nodding. “I do. We do.” 

“Good.” Leriff pushed himself to his feet, turning his attention to the echoing battle down the way. “I need to go help. Will you make sure these two get back to the city?” He spoke to one of the nearby Brass Blades, who very quickly stepped forward to both offer a new sword to the hunter and take over the protection duties of the two novices. And as quickly as he had come, Leriff was gone, sprinting off to provide his aid for the ongoing troubles.

“Wait!” Rekks cried out, but his plea fell on deaf ears. The young man broke away from the Brass Blade and hurried after Leriff across the bridge, stopping on the other side. He bent over and picked up the discarded tricorne hat, watching down the tunnel that Leriff had gone. “...you forgot your hat…” Rekks turned his attention from the tunnel to see Khaida approach at his side, then he cast his eyes down to the wide brimmed hat. He traced his fingers over the metal feather that stuck out of the top, then lifted the hat and pulled it onto his own head. It was comical how poorly the hat fit, and it sunk down, covering his eyes. He pushed it back up to see and mumbled, “It doesn’t fit…”

Khaida couldn't help herself and lifted her hand to her mouth to try to stifle her giggles. She smiled and lowered her hand, using it to take Rekks’ good hand and lock her fingers with his. “You’ll grow into it.”

***

“Go clean up, and Grandma will make you some dinner.” It was getting harder to keep up with his grandchildren. His bones ached, and it felt like every day those two cheering little monsters had more and more energy. Still, he loved them more than life itself, and was always happy to see them. That did not mean he did not require a break, however, and as the little hellions ran off to terrorize the kitchen, he pulled free a key, fit it into the locked door nearby and slipped inside.

It was always nice to go on a trip down memory lane, especially now in his twilight years. They had made this room special just for that occasion, trophies on podiums throughout. As he walked by, he touched each in turn to recall the memories they evoked. A beautifully crafted katana, gifted by the sekiseigumi of Kugane for his and his wife's help in tracking down a killer. A breastplate adorned in ribbons and medals, sent by the alchemists of Radz-at-Han for their help in curing a disease that ravaged the coast. The wing of a great bi fang that tore through the La Noscean islands and the head of a coeurl that had endangered an entire Thanalan settlement. 

Many and more awards and accolades decorated the room, and he stopped at each of them with a soft hum as he approached the back of the chamber. There, on top of the mantle, resting on a globe, was a wide brimmed tricorne hat, adorned with a metal feather. He picked it up and placed it on his head, turning to face himself in the mirror.

Rekks could only smile a crooked smile as he slowly lifted the hat off his balding head. “No,” he spoke to himself, gently brushing the dust from his most important relic with wrinkled fingers. “No. It still doesn’t fit. Not yet.”