#the rewrite is going places far and wide! ;D

[britishchick09]

i found the rewrite on some indie bookstores in arizona!! :D

[thelamb1429]

Jeff the Killer x Prophet! Reader

Just to explain this little bit, i based this off of a story i have. Basically you, dear reader, receive visions, but must be unconscious to see them. Meaning that at random, you’ll fall unconscious while you see the vision, and well, when you wake up varies, and it’s a total mystery.

Sorry this is so short btw!! I didn’t have time to read over it either, but i’ll prolly rewrite it later when i get the time :D!!

Enjoy!! ^_< -★

Story info

Sfw

Gender Neutral reader

CW: fainting, faint religious hints (the whole prophet thing), mentions of death

I DO TAKE REQUESTS, ANY TYPE, JUST KEEP IN MIND I REFUSE TO WRITE CONTENT WITH BEN OR ANY OTHER CHARACTER WHO DIED A MINOR/CANNOT AGE. I’LL GET TO THE REQUESTS AS SOON AS I CAN BUT I HAVE A VERY BUSY SCHEDULE. DONT BE SHY!! <3!

·:*¨��� ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Since you met him, he’d grown accustomed to the nights when you’d stay wide awake, rocking back and forth to fruitlessly soothe the anxious waves drowning your lungs, causing your mind to grow fuzzy and your heart to beat quicker than lightning.

But he would never grow used to the way you would simply grow completely still at random intervals throughout the week, only for your eyes to roll back into your head while your body grew limp, slumping against whatever furniture you were using or even crashing to the floor.

The first time it happened? He laughed it off at first. You were a bit of a trickster, and often pulled some worrisome pranks on everyone, including him.

He was just so used to you playing around, that for a while he thought nothing of it. In fact, when it happened in front of him for the first time and you crashed down to the kitchen floor, he left you there, assuming you’d be bouncing back up within minutes and back to annoy the others.

Then minutes turned to hours

And hours turned to a full day

When he came back downstairs the next evening, only to find you lying against the cold floor, unconscious right where you fell the day prior, he became far more anxious. He lost so much already. Sure, he didn’t exactly love your company at all times, but you were probably one of the few people he felt he could be truly himself with, even with him being as unhinged and expressive as he was. He’d messed up the first time, he wasn’t going to let himself mess things up again.

Over his shoulder you went, and up to the infirmary you were carried. The way your body seemed frozen and ice cold gave him a nauseous feeling in the bottom of his throat, you weren’t supposed to be that cold— but you were laying on the cold, tiled floors of the manor for hours and hours on end.

Once you reached the infirmary he all but busted down the door, placing you on one of the exam tables while Ann and Jack fussed in the background before realizing it was useless and that you needed to be treated.

Jeff couldn’t explain it well, he tried but all he could inform them of was that you fell to the floor last night, that he thought you were joking since you always pull some questionable pranks on others residents, and that he simply went back upstairs to his room believed you’d be up and bothering someone else in a little bit.

He became impatient as the two doctors scanned you over for major injuries, but left you asleep on the table. This frustrated him further, nobody was giving him the answers he obviously deserved.

His eyes seemed to widen a little bit (you would think it wasn’t possible) to hear that this was a normal occurrence for you. That you simply got these visions out of nowhere, but that your body would be forced unconscious until you’d seen the entirety of the vision sent for you. A prophet of sorts. Hence why you were taken in as a proxy, you didn’t have as much physical strength as the others, but what you didn’t have, you made up for it by providing valuable insight into the future.

Jeff looked back to your unconscious figure and huffed slightly, feeling a little shaky.

He thought you died, if he were to be honest

Without another word, he left the infirmary and walked back down the hall to go back to his room.

He started to entertain the idea of having Smile look after you when nobody else was nearby.

Just because it’d be a pain if one of their most valuable assets died and nobody stopped it

He opened his door and closed it roughly, groaning and lying down on his bed, the old frame squeaking quite a bit.

Just because it’d be inconvenient to have to dig a grave and have a funeral.

He pulled the blankets over his eyes and attempted to get a bit of sleep

Just because he didn’t want to admit he’d be hurt if you weren’t around anymore.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[getlancered]

something is very wrong

FIC WRITING!!! AKA more of my turnabout bigtop rewrite! umm a little fic about the moment of the accident that kills bat but it’s from regina’s POV whee

read it on ao3 if u want!!!

Regina Berry is struggling to get Léon to twirl like they rehearsed. She was supposed to hop on his back while he moves and then, eventually, stand and pose. That was how they practiced. But he wasn’t moving, he was watching something, and it certainly wasn’t the tassel she had in her hand. She huffs.

“Léon…People are watching!” Regina whispers, placing her hands on her hips. This show is already so rushed, something that morning had everyone out of sorts. But it all worked out.

Then, she realizes something. People aren’t watching. They’re talking in hushed whispers, but because everyone is doing it, it’s not so hushed anymore. Like Léon, they’re all focused on one point. The very same point, across the stage behind Regina. Acro and Bat’s performance.

Before Regina can turn to look, she feels a hand grip her wrists really tightly. It kind of hurts. Something hits the floor with a wooden clatter. It’s Trilo, she notices, as she’s whisked away by Ben. Everything moves so quickly, and then she can’t see anything at all. Ben is holding her head to his torso, his other hand still gripping her wrist. He’s digging his nails into her skin and it starts to really hurt now. They turn around, but Regina still can’t see.

“Hey—!” She squeaks, but Ben shushes her. He’s shaking really hard.

“Shh, please,” Ben says, “y-you can’t look. Just for a second. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. I-It’ll just be a second—“

Something else hits the ground. A louder sound than Trilo, kind of a crunch. Everyone screams. Someone is crying. It must have been heavier than Trilo too.

Something is very wrong.

“Ben, let me go!” As Regina struggles to move away from the ventriloquist, she sees past his torso a little. Uncle Moe is on the ground a ways away down the stage. He’s the one crying. He’s hysterical. Something is past him too, but she can’t see quite that far.

Ben gasps, opening his eyes and shaking his head. “R-Regina, please!! Oh my god, we—we-…We have to go. Let’s go. L-let’s go, come on,” His tone is frantic and his breath is uneasy. Benjamin has never been particularly strong, but still, he scoops up Regina and holds her head down against his shoulder so she still can’t see anything.

“D-Don’t look, please, you can’t. P-Please don’t—we have to—we need to go.” Regina can’t move. Ben has never ever been stronger than Regina but she still can’t fight him. She can’t get down to comfort her uncle, to even see what’s wrong.

She hears him still crying as Ben carries her away. Another set of steps follow, she can hear, even over so many people also rushing to leave the Big Top. Ben only lets go of her head when they’re outside, and she can see Léon trotting behind them. He doesn’t usually leave the tent, but he’s coming with Regina. In all the chaos, this puts her at ease.

“But Uncle Moe is still in there, Benny! And Regent—What about Bat and Acro?! Something’s happening, I know it! Everyone is so scared! I need to go back inside!”

“You can’t. Y-You can’t. Not for a long time. We, um, oh gosh…I-I’m going to take your dad’s keys, okay? We’re—We’re going to go into town. W-We’ll go into town and have fun and—and, um, we can, uh, wait for your d-dad to call me. Russell will call me when everything’s okay.” Ben can’t seem to catch his breath. Regina can still feel him shaking as he looks around frantically at the crowds of equally distressed people.

“Actually, um, I—I’m going to call him first, I think. R-Really quickly. I’m—I’m going to put you down now and I need you to stay with me. Okay? Promise you won’t go back inside.”

“I promise,” she says, quietly. So quietly.

Ben sets Regina on the ground, but holds both of her wrists and looks at her with a wide-eyed, intense stare. “Promise, Regina.”

Regina swallows. “I promise.”

…Benjamin lets her go. Still, though, Regina grabs one of his shaking hands. He takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone.

He dials and waits.

Russell doesn’t pick up. Benjamin dials a second time and once more, waits.

…

……

Russell doesn’t pick up. When the third call rings to voicemail like the rest, Ben opts to leave a voicemail. “Russell? I-I’m taking Regina into town. I hope that’s okay. I-I, um, I don’t know what else to do. She didn’t see anything. I made sure she didn’t.”

Regina pretends she’s not listening by petting Léon and scratching his chin. She is, though.

“She’s okay. Um, text me when you get this, and c-call me back when everything is clear, please. I’ll get a hotel room if we need to. O-OK, um, I’m hanging up now. Bye.”

Ben slips the phone back into his pocket. He’s quiet for a long time.

“…I’ve never been in a hotel before,” Regina comments quietly. Trying to do anything to ease the silence.

Ben smiles. It’s a small smile and definitely not real, but he tries, and Regina appreciates that. “It’s fun. They— um, t-they have room service and stuff. And, and pools sometimes. I’ll find a nice one. With free breakfast, maybe. W-We can go shopping. We’ll have fun.”

Regina is trying not to think about what’s happening inside the tent. She doesn’t want to wonder. Ben is thinking about it enough. Still, though…

“What about Léon…?” She asks.

Ben’s eyes widened a bit. He looks down at the lion, who looks back up at him blankly. “Oh. Um, h-he’ll be okay. Your dad will take care of him.” He doesn’t sound really sure of himself, but Regina has done enough prodding. She’s never been so scared before. She doesn’t know what to do about it.

“…Okay.”

“Mhm.”

More silence falls between them. It’s not silent at all, really. People are talking to each other and on their phones. Cars are leaving the parking lot with impatient drivers honking and yelling out the window. It’s only at the sound of distant sirens that Ben finally decides it’s time to go.

“This way,” he says in one breath, whisking Regina away by the hand.

Léon watches her as she walks away. She’s not going to see the Big Top for a long time. She knows that.

[procrastinatorproject]

Bed Rest (Seven) for the WIP ask game, please. Also, if you want to talk about the other Bed Rest fics, too.

Seven's installment literally consist of only this handful of sentences so far:

“I understand that your xB physiology renders you much more resilient than humans, and I’m willing to give you a lot of leeway, but I draw the line at exposure to hard vacuum. You’re coming to sickbay with me right now.” Seven arched her eyebrow and drew a rasping breath. “Deactivate —” “No,” Emil said calmly. “You’re on medical lockout from all computer systems and will remain so until I give you a clean bill of health. Now, will you come downstairs voluntarily? Or will I have to ask Ms Musiker to drag you?”

I do like it quite a bit :D But haven't managed to do all the writing that needs to go around it yet.

As for the other Bed Rest fics... When I started writing them, it was just Soji, then I had an idea for Raffi, then Ian, Rios... and eventually, it settled in my brain as "one day, this series will have a story of Emil telling people to lie the fuck down already for every major and a whole lot of minor characters from Star Trek: La Sirena" 😅

We'll see how far I get. The one I wrote for Picard doesn't actually fit the description as well as I'd like it to, and I should probably just post it as a short slice of life standalone (it's basically done and I find it pretty funny, if I say so myself).

And the Agnes WIP that is still technically labelled "bed rest" also veered into a different direction (much more emotional angst and post-Borg-trauma, less the sickfic vibe I'm going for with the rest of the series). So I might turn that into a standalone at some point, though it would involve having to acknowledge season 2 happenings, even in a strongly altered form...

BUT! A while ago, @regionalpancake pointed out that probably a bunch of OC stories in my "never to be pulished" folder would only need very minor rewrites to work for Agnes (and for readers who haven't spent the last four years in my brain and thus don't know the reams and reams of intricate worldbuilding that underly the Private Stories). And I think that assessment is very accurate for the fic currently titled "Check up", which also has some holo bits in it that I just... adore so much! And want to share with the world! Like...

Emil nodded. “Your fever has gone up in the last few hours.” Her eyes went wide. “I thought the meds would help with that?” The EMH tilted his head and his expression turned slightly admonishing. “They are helping. They’re supporting your body’s immune system in fighting off the virus. Which inevitably involves a certain level of fever.” He lowered his scanner and frowned. “Honestly, you’re nearly as bad as the captain with his impatience. Healing takes time. The human body isn’t a machine where you can replace a broken part and everything just runs smoothly again straight away.” “Well now.” Over at the table, Ian leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands under his arms. “A repair is rarely done with a simple replacement. There’s always adjustments that need to happen afterwards and usually a lot of recalibration to —” “Yes, thank you Ian,” Emil said curtly without turning around, “I was speaking metaphorically.” “I’m just saying that if you want the repair done properly, you can’t just shove a new part in place and call it a day. There are a lot of protocols and follow-ups that need to happen.” “Actually, that makes the metaphor better, don’t you think?” Enoch mused. “Even with a machine, repairs take time and don’t lead to instantaneous improvement.” Ian leaned towards the ENH. “Yes, but he said the human body wasn’t like a machine, so he got the metaphor exactly backwards.” Emil rolled his eyes as the two holograms at the table started to argue over whether an accidentally good metaphor was still good if it was deployed incorrectly. Behind them, Emmet was leisurely swapping cards from his hand for better ones from the discard pile.

So that one is probably gonna be Agnes's installment (eventually).

Beyond that, who knows? There are still a few crew members (organic, cybernetic, and holographic) that need to have a moment with their snarky ship's physician! And one of these days, I will finally get over myself and edit the two paragraphs that have thus far kept me from posting Rios's part of the series 😅

I really enjoy the bed rest stories, though. I will never get enough of Emil being an exasperated, snarky, but ultimately really kind and competent doctor! And since there aren't as many stories of that out there in the wild as I'd like, I guess I'll just have to keep writing them myself XD

---

(I'm still very happy to answer questions or post snippets of the many things in my WIP folder :D Here's the original list of titles if you want to see what's available!

[huenjin]

phobia.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.7k words

ratings — 18+

genre — some slight fluff and smut, includes face sitting, cunnilingus.

note — this is the most domestic relationship thing i've written on this blog so far. lmao, i watched chan's room, ep.1 while writing this,,,and at this point, i'm just doing like an unofficial countdown to national boyfriend's day, of sorts, ha! d-3 and here we are. i haven't ever been this content writing for a boy group as much as skz. *cries in alien language*

You are snuggling against Chan, your head on his broad chest as he plays with your hair and your fingers casually and playfully tapping his chest in a rhythm, only to trail downwards slowly. He turns his head slightly to kiss the top of your head.

And just maybe you were horny. There's no other explanation to the hand of yours that slowly trickles its way down to place itself over your boyfriend's crotch.

"Y/N," his voice is laced with strain and you chuckle, kissing the side of your boyfriend's chin. "Don't—"

"But—"

"I mean, unless you intend to solve it after you cause it."

"What if I don't?"

"Sneaky little rat," Chan gasps and he wraps his arms tightly around you, snuggling you closer into him and you laugh.

It is in moments like these that your heart flutters, swells and then bursts with nothing but love for this man that you call yours in this moment. With eyes that sparkle like they can bear every single star in the galaxy and with arms that could possibly hold the whole world with the love he has, he still chooses to hold you close and keep you in his arms and call you his whole world. He chooses to rewrite the stars no matter what happens, all to keep you close to him.

"Do you want me to eat you out?"

He pushes you slightly away from him so that he can look at you as he asks. There's a lot more to the eyes that plead to you though, as if he needs something more secretly.

"Randomly?"

"It's not complete random," he mumbles and you sit up, your arms unwrapping from his physique. You stare at your boyfriend, expecting him to continue on his sudden proposal. And then he drops it.

"Sit on me."

"Huh?"

You are about to sit on top of him, hovering over his crotch when he holds your thigh, mid air, and you look at him, in confusion, "Chan?"

"On my face."

Your eyes widen and you drop you leg back onto the mattress. You're holding him tighter, staring at your boyfriend in surprise and more of a what-the-fuck look.

"You're kidding, right?"

Chan sits up slightly, his arms supporting his body weight up from behind. He bites his lower lips as he looks at you, "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"But Channie—"

"Why don't you give it a try? If you still don't like it, we could stop?"

And when your eyes show a flicker of hesitance, Chan lays back down again and pulls you forward. You cup his face and kiss him, holding his lower lips between yours as you try dragging it out for as long as possible. Chan holds you as you direct the kiss and he moans into you, before pulling back and mumbling, "You'd definitely be great at it."

You pull back and shimmy out of your shorts and panties, Chan's white shirt still on you. Your boyfriend looks at you in awe, like you're the literal sunshine in person and that he was nothing short of a blessed man on earth in this moment.

With unsure, wobbly steps, you crawl over to the side of Chan's face and sit on the back of your ankles as you look at him, "What if I'm too heavy?"

"You couldn't be heavy for me, baby," Chan laughs, and it's so light and soft that it eases you; that maybe, just maybe this would be a good experience. "You're the perfect size for me. You're like my other half. We are compatible. Remember, when you even got our horoscopes matched!"

"But that's a different thing! And my mother did that." You laugh at the memory. It was a year back when you asked Chan for his entire birth or natal chart and even though he persisted and asked you why you required it, you couldn't tell him till you had it, or more like your mother had it. She had been the mastermind behind the entire scheme. Chan learns of it later that day though — when your mother calls him when she couldn't reach through you.

And your mother being the ever jovial person she is, tells your boyfriend of how good the two of your marriage compatibility was. Chan had the best night of his life that day, laughing to you about it and how he'd marry you even if the compatibility had turned out to be crap.

Chan shakes his head and pulls at your thigh, "It's not now. You're my everything. My sun, my moon and my stars."

"You're sugarcoating your words to get me to sit on your face, aren't you?" You laugh, squinting your eyes in response at how adorable and desperate Chan looked at that minute.

Your boyfriend dramatically gasps, hand clutching his chest, hovering right over his heart as he closes his eyes and shakes his head, "How could you doubt my love, my darling," before bursting out into a fit of laughter and confessing, "Was it that obvious?"

"You're a drama queen." You hit his chest and he kisses your nose. "If it gets too overbearing, you'll tell me, right?"

"One hundred percent," he smiles and with that confidence, you lift your leg over his face and sit in such a way that your vulva was right in front of Chan's face, currently glistening from all the anticipation.

"God, you're beautiful," Chan mumbles to himself as he lifts his arms up slightly to grab your thighs, pulling it slightly closer to his face, leaving you like this — your knees dig into the pillow by the side of your boyfriend's face, your core hovering over his face so close that his breath on the skin by the side edges you, running a tingle down your spine.

"Come on, Y/N," he chuckles against your thigh, kissing it and laying out small kisses upwards. "You should know by now that you are not going to break me. Trust me." You look down at your boyfriend and you can't help but agree that it's the first time you're looking at Chan like this and he's still so beautiful.

"I know," you sigh, force downwards to your knee as you lower yourself slightly. Chan is still biting and kissing at your thighs, causing you to cream yourself slightly, embarassing you because he can clearly see it now. You bite down on your lips softly, and after much thought decide to reach out a hand to tangle into his hair.

Seemingly, this is all the encouragement and push your boyfriend needed because now Chan's hands lift themselves, hands on your hip before he pulls you down to come closer on to his face, knees digging into the pillow so much that Chan's face lifts up.

And then Chan's tongue is pressed flat against you. He slowly drags it against your slit, like a kitten with its soft licks and then proceeds to press a kiss to your clit when he gets to the top. You're breaking. You had such a strong conviction that you'd dislike this that you can't help but want to move your hip, to want more of his tongue — to want more of the wet muscle against your now sopping core.

Your legs relax just a bit and you willing push his face against his. Chan's face is still hurried into your core, head focussing on nothing but your pleasure. Chan licks another stripe before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, loud noice of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly, just to test if it was alright. Turns out Chan loves it because he presses his head further back, hand moving downwards only to place them against your thighs to spread them apart slightly and to see how wet you are all because of him. You look down only to find Chan's eyes shut, lips chasing after your wet ones, tongue protruding out and small whines leaving him that does nothing but harness and comfort your dominant side.

You realise that Chan was still taking it slow, making sure you were comfortable with this and that you were enjoying every single bit of it. The more you let yourself relax and settled onto his face, the more his attention grew. And when Chan knew you were comfortable enough, he grips your hips, hands quickly snaking behind and pulls you further — unimaginably — down. His jaw opens wide and he draws his tongue up and down, lapping at your slit like it's an eternal drink. His warm muscle circles around your clit, causing you to shiver in his hold, chills send up your spine.

Your eyes close, the pleasure unimaginably good as you stretch your left hand to hold the bed post and the other tangles itself amongst Chan's hair roots, pulling it slightly everytime you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Chan circles around your dripping hole, tongue teasingly poking and pressing in before it is gone again. Your hip gyrate against his face almost like it has a mind of its own. His nose nudges occasionally against your core and your mound that has you biting the insides of your mouth to suppress a large moan.

Chan keeps a rhythm as his tongue laps against your sopping lips, paying equal attention to every part that it send your receptors into snap, endorphins releasing slowly in the build up. His tongue takes in every bit of your wetness that you are left gasping, hips moving against his tongue and eyes squeezing, as your mouth left nothing but his name like a mantra.

Your thighs shake in the pleasure, torn between collapsing and embracing the feeling and you know, for sure, that had it not been for Chan's iron grip on your thighs. Not that Chan seemed too interested in being given the space for him to breathe with how eager he is to bring your hips closer to his face, barely giving him space to breathe.

Slowly and almost what seemed too short, it is all too much for you, the constant sucking and licking and feeling of his warmth against your dripping core. Chan's tongue finally slips into your core and before you really could grasp understanding of what exactly you were doing, you are here, grinding on his face, rocking between his nose pressed against your clit and his tongue buried as far as possible inside you.

Chan moans in ecstacy, his tongue feeling the pressure from your muscles tightening. The slight vibration is enough to slowly spiral you and draw out another loud moan from your dry throat and out through your coral lips. One of his hands grips your thigh, digging in his fingers and the other splays out flat on your back.

It's like all your misconception about this is thrown out through the window. You groan out loud, knuckles turning white as you grip on the bed post tightly as he worked against your slit, letting your hips move as they wished now, his grip on your hips a lot lighter. Your other hand in his hair switches between pulling and petting. You try to focus on the wall in front of you but your vision is all blurry in the slowly becoming euphoria. You can't help but let out small praises in between breaths, "You're a good, good boy," and "Fuck, look at how needy you are," and in all honesty, even you are surprised by the words that leave you. Though, all that does is get Chan more enthusiastic with each one, his tongue moving even more furiously against you.

Before you know it, the knot that built up seems to slowly tense up, close enough to snap and you know you are on the edge. You try desperately to form words though all you can roll from your tongue are desperate whines and moans and chants for Chan to fuck you up more. You pull on his hair, pulling him closer while grinding against him harder.

And then it snaps as you come, like a rope that is knotted so perfectly, pulled apart till you see the fibres so clearing straining away and breaking. You see the white as you close your eyes, the oxytocin rushing through and you are grinding on Chan's face further to ride it all out, your tongue rolling out the words, "Chan, oh my fuck!" over and over again. Your whole body shakes and your legs instinctively try to close though it just ends up pressed against Chan's face, not that he minded it one bit. Chan licks you out soft and slowly, helping you through your orgasm patiently and you want to cry at how blessed you truly are.

Chan keeps up the gentle attention until you finally decide to push his head back, hand off his hair and bedpost, lifting yourself slowly off his face. Or at least you tried and that should count. Your legs that desperately chooses not to cooperate, feeling sore and muscles strained. Chan laughs at you as you try to lift yourself off and he helps you, hand warm against your wet thighs as he lifts them over his face and to his side. You drop down, sliding against the mattress downwards and Chan coos, "Look at my baby."

“Fuck,” is all you can say, heart racing against your chest after one of the better orgasms ever and you close your eyes.

Chan pulls you closer into him, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead, lips lingering for more than a second. You finally open your eyes, only to lock gazes with your boyfriend and you smile, albeit a tired yet loving smile. Chan press his lips against your nose and tells you, "I'm one lucky man."

"Yes," you chortle, hugging your boyfriend tighter. "Yes, you are."

You take in the sight of Chan in all his glory. His jaw is slick, light hitting off them and making them glisten, cheeks flushed pink and his lips are pulled into a soft smile at you. His eyes don't leave yours for even a minute and they are filled with nothing but soft love coloured in pastel pink in your head. It makes your heart flutter against your ribs.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"More than I should," you sigh contently. You let yourself be swallowed by the beautiful sight before for just a moment longer, to remember every single bit of this in your head. “Now stop looking so sappy and proud.”

If anything, your comment only makes Chan's smile grow wider. Chan still holds you in his arms but he turns his head to look up at the ceiling, smiling so brightly like a dork. “I know I enjoyed it.”

And then, as if he knew you had your eyes trained on his, he sticks his tongue out, slowly dragging it against your wetness left as residues by his mouth. He licks it all up and then finishes it out by licking his lips and you hate that you find yourself clenching your thighs against each other. Why were you such a putty in his hands and to everything he does? Stupid boyfriend that knows he too hot for any good.

“Think I’ll get to do it again sometime?”

You laugh, kissing his cheek. “Maybe,” you say, smiling to yourself. "Who knows? Guess you'll have to wait and see how this pans out now, right?"

Chan looks at you, turning himself to snuggle into your warmth, wanting to be the smaller spoon suddenly. His head hurried against your chest, nose grazing the top of your breast, he closes his eyes, taking in your natural scent. Your hand finds itself on top of his head as you slowly pet his hair, pausing only when you hear him mumble against your skin.

"I've never minded waiting for you."

[darling-i-read-it]

Lucas Baker

Part 4

RE7 Rewrite Masterlist

Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: spoilers for re7, violence, injuries, blood, gross rotted stuff, marguerites boss battle so gross sack thing, bugs, injuries

Author’s Note: this is a shorter part but it has the meat in it lol. I’m getting to the end of this game already! Ethan dude. Ethan.

Summary: Going through Lucas’s party, fighting Jack and having to pick between Zoe and Mia.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator. Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

(not my gif)

You and Ethan didn’t talk about the kiss. You walked through the house, finding the last two key cards and watching another tape in relative silence. It wasn’t that the silence was bad. It was actually very comfortable. You laughed at each other like school children. He teased you like the two of you had been married for years.

You may be in a nightmare of a situation but at least you were in it together.

Ethan put the blue keycard in and you put the red one in. It opened up the door that was to the left of the trailer. You pushed it open.

“Are you ready for a party?” he asked. You scoffed.

“You’ve never seen me at a party Winters. It is an event,” you said smiling. He rolled his eyes and walked inside, holding his gun up. He looked around quietly, walking up the stairs. In neon splattering letters it read ‘Let’s Play’. “I’m sick of this guy already,” you muttered.

“I’m sick of this situation.” You pushed open the door inside and there was a chair and a TV hooked up.

“Is this another video? Because if I wanted to watch a movie I would have stayed home.” Ethan sat down on the chair. You stood behind him but he patted the arm of the chair. You rolled your eyes and sat down beside him. You pushed the VHS tape in.

Lucas showed up. He looked gross. He set up the camera and waved at the camera.

“Ethan! Oooo and pretty Y/N! Hold on, hold on, I got something to show you.” He showed the D-series head over the camera. Damn thing was too much trouble for what it was worth. “You know what Zoe wants with this? She thinks it's special! No Ethan that ain’t special. This is special.” He was shaking as he raised his hand in front of the camera and took a fingernail off with pliers. You winced. “You see, not everyone wants to turn back the clock! What? What Eveline? I’m just trying to show him!” You rolled your eyes and stood up. He said some more stuff but the gist of it was that he had the head. The TV blew up, knocking Ethan back. He scrambled up and brushed off his clothing.

“You’re right. He is a dick.”

You gestured to the door.

“It is time to get this over with.”

“I cannot agree more.”

====

You made your way through the booby traps that Lucas had set out for the two of you. You were sick and tired of his games. When you arrived at the key code, you were ready to kill the guy with your bare hands but no, he made you look around for the code and then return with it.

It was the same room you had seen on the tape, which meant you knew how to do it. Jokes on Lucas.

You dropped off all of your weapons and went inside. It was a dimly lit room. You grabbed Ethan’s hand, knowing that Lucas was watching. You came up close to him, whispering into his ear.

“You remember the pass code?” you asked.

“Yes I do and I do not want it carved in my arm,” he muttered. You nodded and patted his back.

“Go on.”

He walked forward and lit the candle that was there with the stove. He burned the rope to the door and walked inside, putting in the code. Loser. With the wheel he was able to go back around to the cake, you turned off the water and he went through, placing the candle on the cake perfectly.

“Motherfucker!” Lucas yelled over the intercom. “You were supposed to die!” Suddenly a stick of dynamite was tossed into the room. You ran over and picked it up, throwing it through the wall. Ethan pulled you back and practically shielded you with his body in order to make sure the blast didn’t get to you.

The wall blew, revealing a pathway.

“Fuck you Lucas!” you yelled. You walked through the bits of fire and came to a chair that was still spinning. You scoffed. “That was easy.”

“Well we make quite a team.” Ethan opened up the case that was on the table and revealed the D-series head. You refrained from pumping your fist in the air.

“We do don’t we? Look at us. We’ve both lived this far. We killed Jack and Marguerite. Lucas ran in fear. We’re going to get out of here,” you whispered.

“Don’t jinx us.”

“My bad.” He grabbed your hand and showed you the head. You looked down at it, wondering what it had been when it was alive.

“We did do pretty good.”

“It ain’t over yet Winters,” you muttered. “Let’s get our stuff and go get Zoe and Mia. Then we can leave this damn place.”

He nodded. You turned around, trying to slip your hand away from him. Instead of that he moved you around smoothly, kissing you. He pulled away gently, causing you to still reach forward for his touch.

“Calm down,” he muttered. “Or you’re gonna get us killed when we’re this close.”

“Alright, alright.” You turned around, breathing evenly again. “Is this better? Are you happy?” Ethan nodded and gestured for you to go back to where you had both left your things.

===

You walked across some confusing docks before making it to a larger house. Some sort of boat house or something.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out of here?” he asked, opening up the door.

“Nap. For seven years. Don’t wake me.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Tied to a window and pillar, Zoe and Mia sat on the ground looking weak. You walked up to Mia who looked up at you. You tried to hide your disdain as you knelt down and cut the rope off of her.

“Zoe-” Ethan started.

“Not now. We don’t have time. Do you have both ingredients?” You nodded and Ethan cut her out. You handed her the arm while Ethan handed her the head. “Good. There’s enough for two.” She turned around and knelt down, mixing it together.

“So after you make the serum, what’s next?” Ethan asked.

“There’s a boat outside. We’ll take it through the swamp. But neither of us will get very far without the serum.” Ethan took them both from her. She started to protest but suddenly something crashed from behind you.

A large black goop monster crawled through the walls.

“Zoe, get back to the house!” it said in a distorted voice. “I will deal with them!”

“Jack!” you yelled. You cocked your shotgun. “If I have to fight you one more time I will cut each of your limbs to pieces!” you yelled, walking up to him. Ethan admired your readiness as he scrambled to hide the serum before following you.

At this point, fighting Jack was somewhat of a habit. You and Ethan shot at his weak points, going around in circles to make sure he would stay dead. He collapsed to the ground but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

You held your gun up to him as you started to back away. Ethan watched as the mold made Jack picked stirred alive and picked you up, making you scream.

“Come on little girl! You’ll never be her mommy!” he screamed. You fumbled for your gun but before you could get there Jack started to shake. He dropped you. Ethan was standing to your side, an empty vial of serum in his hand.

“What did you do?” you breathed.

“What I had to do in order to save you,” he said. Your eyes went wide but Zoe broke your thoughts.

“Are you two alright?” Ethan nodded, walking up to you. “Come on. Mia’s waiting for us.”

You stumbled out onto the dock. Your fatigue was getting to you. Your shoulder throbbed. You weren’t doing good. Ethan didn’t look much better. Ethan and you leaned against each other as you walked onto the dock. Mia waited by the boat. The night was still dark but the air by the water was fresher. You were really thirsty.

“I had to use one of them. There’s only one left,” Ethan explained. Mia turned around quickly. She walked up to the two of you, looking at the lone vial in Ethan’s hands.

“There’s only one left? There can’t be just one left. What the hell are we gonna do now?” Mia looked shaken. She and Zoe stood next to each other and between them was only one vial and Ethan had it. You crossed your arms over your chest.

Ethan looked over at you. You shrugged a bit and he walked away from Mia and Zoe up to you. The vial was between you.

The question hung in the air. You almost had a whole conversation without saying anything. You both knew it. On one hand, Mia was his wife and your friend. You may wanna fight her but you didn’t want her dead. You barely knew Zoe. But Zoe knew the way out. You grabbed the vial from his hand. He looked grateful.

You walked over to Zoe and injected her with the serum.

Mia gasped.

“I’m sorry Mia it’s just Zoe knows the way out,” Ethan said quickly. “She can guide us to safety.” Mia shook her head.

“You’re my husband...my best friend!” She pursed her lips. “I’m staying here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said.

“My place is here. With her,” Mia said, backing away. Zoe got in the boat. You followed her. Ethan lingered for a moment and then got in beside you.

“We’ll be back for you,” he said.

The boat zoomed away, leaving Mia back in the darkness. You felt bad. But you had to believe you could come back for her, that you could save her later. Zoe looked grateful. Ethan steered the boat away. You took a deep breath and watched his face. He looked calm. Conflicted. All of the above.

Final Part

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Leannan // O.W. (celebration fic)

Request: Congratulations hun! Seriously, slow down xD No, please don't :D so I would like to have Oliver Wood - duh xD, Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff 4. - “Is that my shirt?” (You just captured my Scot baby so well, I couldn't miss it!) Congrats again, hun, take all the time you need! <3 - @heloisedaphnebrightmore​

Fluff 4: “Is that my shirt?”

A/N: Coming from the queen of Oliver fics, this means so much! Thank you! For those that don’t know, Leannan is Scottish Gaelic for ‘sweetheart’. I don’t know whether this reads as enemies to lovers but there is a lot of teasing, however, I’m happy to rewrite if you want it! As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for 1.5k!!

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, teasing

Word count: 1.7k

Truthfully, you considered yourself to be a very calm and mature person. There was very little that could rile you into a frenzy, and if it did, you almost always dealt with the problem by finding a solution as quickly as possible.

But you were absolutely certain there was no solution for Oliver Wood.

Since joining the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in your Third Year, he had made it his mission to get on your nerves every practice and every match, or whenever he had a spare moment. The teasing started off innocently enough; but then it evolved into something more and now you both felt at a stalemate.

There was no ill will between you; just teenage stubbornness tied with mutual attraction that neither of you were willing to admit. He liked to challenge you; becoming your rival in so many forms whether it was on the pitch where he would challenge you to races, or in the classroom room where he would test your patience through essay grades.

In so many forms, you could class him as your enemy for the pure fact that he drove you up the wall, but there was the rare occasion where you would catch him watching you across a classroom or the common room, and you had to wonder whether he felt something more.

---------

Sighing to yourself in the changing room, you unzip your bag, pulling out your uniform and setting it on the bench. The day had already started out bad; running late to first lesson after having spilt orange juice down your blouse and then forgetting to submit an essay for your third lesson of the day had your mood lower than it had been all week.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath as you begin to get ready for practice. Silently praying that it would be an easy one.

“Leannan,” A known voice sings, “Practice starts in ten.”

Turning, you fix Oliver with an unimpressed look, “I am not your sweetheart, Wood.”

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe, “How did you know I was calling you a sweetheart?”

You pause; wondering how the hell you were going to explain this one. Absolutely refusing to explain that you had spent one evening in the library, scouring through a Scottish Gaelic dictionary until you came across the word. You absolutely refuse to acknowledge how heated your skin felt one you read the translation; how seeing it sent a thrill through you.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes, “Shove off, Wood. I need to get ready for practice.”

Oliver holds his hand up in surrender, laughing, “I’m going, I’m going.”

You throw a piece of clothing at him, “Go faster.”

“Alright woman, no need to resort to bodily harm.”

“Wood, I asked you to leave and you’re still here. Either you love to annoy me this much or you so desperately want to see me naked, now which is it?”

Oliver splutters at your words; his face a picture as a bright blush creeps his neck, “I’ll see you on the pitch.”

You stifle your laugh as Oliver walks into the doorframe before leaving the girl’s changing room. His slight embarrassment making your day that little bit better. You find yourself thinking of him as you get changed for practice; of his confidence that really does get the better of him sometimes, of his love of quidditch, of how he lights up when he delivers the pre-match speech that the team has memorised but that he will always deliver.

Shaking your head clear of all thoughts of the brown-eyed scot, you grab your broom and head out onto the pitch, joining the rest of the team. You ruffle young Harry’s hair as you walk past him; earning a playful glare in return.

“Have we quite finished?” Oliver admonishes; his gaze fixed on you.

“Yeah, have you quite finished?” Fred parrots.

You elbow him harshly; knocking the breath out of him, “Shut it, Weasley.”

Oliver claps his hands together; gaining the attention of the team. Setting up the plan of action for today’s practice, he blows his whistle – the command to saddle brooms and take off.

It feels as if it’s revenge for your comment in the changing room. Oliver nit-picks every move you take; taking it apart and demonstrating for the team the exact moment where you went wrong and why it should have been avoided. Oliver isn’t being outwardly malicious – he doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body; he’s just placing extra attention on you because of how you reacted in the changing room.

Oliver hadn’t admitted this to anyone; how attractive he found you, but how clueless he felt when it came to approaching you. He could tease you well enough; rile you up and get on your nerves, but he really did like you. You were his Leannan, no matter how much you seemed to despise the nickname.

Practice finishes with you landing back onto the pitch in one smooth motion; hopping off your broom and flipping Oliver off as he shouts for you to come back and talk. If you spoke to him now, you knew you would say something you would come to bitterly regret. Walking away, as you did now, meant that you could cool off and think through things rationally.

As you’re pulling your robes back on, an idea springs to mind. An idea that would definitely repay Oliver for how harsh he was during training.

Your mood brightening once again, a smirk breaks across your face as you hoist your Quidditch bag onto your shoulder and take hold of your broom; this would definitely be a fun prank – one that you couldn’t predict the outcome of, but it was one you also needed particular help with.

--------

At breakfast the following morning, you take a seat next to the Weasley twins, greeting each with a wide smile that only had them questioning your motives.

“Boys, I have an idea and I need your help.”

They both lean closer to you, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Quidditch captain would it?”

You bite your lip, “It might…”

Fred and George laugh, “What do you need us to do?”

----

Fred and George succeed that very night; pulling young Harry in on the scheme as well – getting him to distract Oliver with numerous questions about Quidditch whilst they snuck into Oliver’s room and stole his spare Quidditch jersey. He would never notice it missing; choosing to wear the same one for each match for luck.

They join you in the common room after having completed the deed; smuggling the jersey to you which you hide underneath the blanket you’re huddled under. Oliver frowns at the three of you; cutting him off on his education for Harry, he shouts over to you, “What would you three be planning?”

You widen your eyes, batting your lashes, “We would never do such a thing.”

Oliver frowns, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You place a hand on your heart, “The lack of faith you have in me is astounding, Wood.”

“Leannan, the three of you together can create enough mayhem to shut the school down.”

You grin at the use of his nickname for you, “Then lucky for you we aren’t planning anything,”

Oliver grumbles but says nothing further as he turns back to Harry; the boy looking as captivated as ever by Oliver’s explanations.

“What are you going to do with it?” George asks.

“Burn it? Tear it up? Dye it green?” Fred asks.

You shake your head at all his suggestions; feeling only slightly alarmed, “I’m going to wear it.”

Fred sits back with a huff, “I’d have dyed it green.”

You pat his leg consolingly, “Next time.”

-------

Your plan was to wear Oliver’s Quidditch jersey around Hogsmeade; starting with wearing it to breakfast in the Great Hall. You walk in proudly; winking back at Fred and George as you sit down next to them at the Gryffindor table.

If Oliver notices something, he doesn’t say – he glances your way once through all of breakfast then refuses to catch your eye after that.

You turn to the twins, “What are your plans for Hogsmeade? Room for one more?”

George nods, “We always have room for one more. We’re going to Zonko’s first and then we’ll see where the day takes us.”

You laugh, “That we shall. I’m going to grab some more money, but I’ll meet you in the courtyard?”

With a thumbs up from both of them, you leave the Great Hall, rushing back to the Gryffindor common room. Fred nudges George and points at Oliver who when noticing your absence, made sure to follow you from the room. They both roll their eyes, knowing full well you would not be meeting them in the courtyard.

-------

Returning to the common room after breakfast to grab some last minute money before meeting the twins, you’re pulled to one side by a frustrated looking Oliver.

Frustrated doesn’t seem to cover what Oliver feels at the sight of you in his shirt; he feels confirmation that you hold some feelings for him, but mostly feels desperation at how much he wants to get it off you.

“Is that my shirt?”

You look down at your clothing; your face the picture of innocence when you finally meet his brown eyes, “You know… I think it is.”

Oliver’s hands flex by his sides; an action he only does when he’s getting frustrated and can’t do anything about it, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

You pull out the hem; reading his quidditch number out loud before saying, “I don’t know, I think it looks pretty good on me. Don’t you?”

Oliver leans in closer; just enough so he can whisper in your ear but far enough where he’s purposefully not touching you, “Leannan, what are you doing?”

You angle your body away from him, “I think you know what I’m doing.”

Oliver’s hands finally leave his side; fiddling with the hem of shirt that’s now draped over your body. With a smirk, he asks, “Just how set are you on going to Hogsmeade today?”

“Why? Got plans for me?”

He chuckles; hands fisting in his shirt, “Leannan, you have no idea.”

**********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic-deactivated20200 @acciotwinz

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Incident - Bit 2)

Prologue | Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2

Okay, I have now written over 6000 words of this fic and completed Part One. An attempt to start Part Two has led me to the realisation that I need to complete the Prologue as originally planned and not leave it cut off like I have (I was going to tell the story throughout the fic, but have since decided to restrict it to the Prologue). So, Expect a re-publication of the Prologue with more story in it :D Such is the way of this fic. Lots of rewriting, which is why this post is not 6000 words long, but just another bit of the whole as I work my way through it.

And yes, it turned out more complicated than expected. Don’t they always, but it has been so much fun.

Many, many continuing thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ and @janetm74​ for the buckets of support they have been providing me with. Like a lot. This is a big project.

Anyways, here be a little bit more (about 1200 words). I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

“Heads up, Thunderbird One.”

Scott raised his eyes as Tracy Island came into view, relief after a long morning and the option of lunch foremost on his mind.

A shower would be heaven.

“Thunderbird Five?”

John’s hologram was apologetic. “Dad wants to see you in the lounge immediately. Both you and Virgil.”

A blink. “What? Why?” Lunch took a step back.

Damnit.

“Unknown.” A sigh over comms. “Visual check, I suspect.”

Scott’s shoulders dropped even as he shifted One into vertical flight. “FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil. It had to be Virgil. Dad was still sensitive to any and all injury in the field. It was understandable, but at the same time, unavoidable.

Admittedly, Scott wanted to set his eyes on his engineer brother just to make sure he was still in one piece. After all, half a mountain had nearly landed on him.

It wasn’t the first time.

Virgil seemed to specialise in getting himself buried.

As One slid past the balcony, his father stood one hand on his cane, the other behind his back, ramrod straight, staring out at the Thunderbird.

Scott poked his comms. “Virg, you better be in one piece or Dad is going to roast your ass.”

Scott eyed his monitor, tracking Two’s progress back to the Island. Perhaps it was a reflection of his own concern, but Scott had held back on his return speed, more comfortable to keep within a safe distance of his brother.

A grunt over comms. “Minor bruising, Thunderbird One. As reported earlier.”

Scott grunted back.

At least he could understand their father’s need to see them in one piece.

One’s gantry carried the Thunderbird deep into the mountain, sliding her smoothly into her hangar as always. She sighed and settled as he flicked through post-flight.

God, he wanted that shower.

He climbed out of his seat as dried mud flaked off his uniform, and let the pilot retrieval system retract. A set of stairs, an elevator later and he was walking across the comms room. “Dad, you wanted to see me?”

Grey eyes raked him from above his father’s desk. “Debrief.”

Scott closed his eyes a second. “Dad, I really need a shower.” Shower before mission breakdown. It was an unspoken rule. It gave them the moment alone to gather wits and straighten out stories.

And left less dirt in the lounge.

His father leant a little further onto his cane, the thunderbird carved into the acacia wood catching the light. “We will wait for Virgil.”

Scott let his shoulders drop. Off to his right he absently noted Gordon with an armful of rubbish. Scott frowned. Those chocolate bar wrappers looked very familiar. He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards his little brother.

Gordon’s eyes widened and he darted out of reach, scampering over to the far side of the lounge.

Lips thinning, Scott glared at him and the resultant expression from his brother could only be called smirking guilt.

Damnit, he had been looking forward to those.

He let his shoulders drop and turned his back on Gordon, stepping out towards the balcony.

There were more important things.

Two was on approach, Virg wouldn’t be too long. Debrief as brief as it could be, then shower and food.

A flicker. “International Rescue, we have a situation.”

Oh, for the love of-

He turned to find John hovering in the middle of the room as expected, a worried frown on his face. His eyes bounced between Scott and his father. “Scott, it’s from Callisto.”

He stared at his brother. “Callisto?” His brain immediately started calculating flight times.

Hell.

The Jovian outpost was at the extreme of human endeavour, bar their trip to the Oort cloud. He, himself, had signed the grant forms that had seen the final boost from Tracy Industries to get the program into space and onto Jupiter’s second largest moon.

His father was frowning at him.

Scott straightened. “Details, John?”

“I have Graeme Walters on the line. Both directors of the expedition have gone missing.”

A blink as his heart sunk. “Both? How?”

“Apparently they were on an explorative foray and simply disappeared. Two days ago.”

Aw, hell.

John’s eyes darted to his father.

Jeff must have sensed something in the air because his eyes narrowed. “What don’t I know?”

John sighed. “Dad, the directors of the Callisto Expedition are Kate Berrenger and Ju Zhang.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil stepped off Two’s hatch and groaned. Today had been a long one and it was only halfway through. He flexed his left arm, rubbing the ache of bruises up and down it from that last landslide. Mud flaked off everywhere. He needed to have words with Mother Nature. Land-sliding over a village was one thing, but dumping more on the poor rescuers desperately trying to get a family out of the mess already created was just unfair.

And it hurt.

He hadn’t lied to his brothers; it was just bruising. He had scanned it to make sure. But Scott and probably Dad would still want to check on him and smother a little.

Scott, he was used to. Dad, he worried about. It was understandable, of course, but Virgil was concerned that their father was fretting too much about his sons to stay mentally healthy. There was an ‘out of sight, may never see them again’ vibe that had Virgil poking at texts on PTSD and speaking to Grandma in the late hours at night.

It was a circle of anxiety.

Stepping into the elevator, he rested his head against the cool metal wall and closed his eyes. There had also been a very early morning and definitely not enough coffee to compensate.

Shower, food and, if he was lucky, maybe a snooze by the pool. Either that or a bucket of coffee to drown his exhaustion in.

Almost as if fate heard that thought, the elevator doors opened to the lounge and an argument.

A big one.

“No, Dad. No way.”

“I was not asking your permission. This is my decision.”

Virgil skirted around the stone wall, past Gordon’s aquarium, and was confronted by the two eldest men in the family mirror-imaging each other’s glares.

Gordon stood in the sunken lounge beside John’s hovering hologram and both were staring, eyes wide, up at Scott and their father as they confronted each other.

“Dad, there is no way you meet the medical requirements for a space mission like this. Alan and I will go.”

“I have the experience-“

“No!”

Virgil flinched. There was more in that single word than a command decision. Virgil could hear the fear in his brother’s heart.

Dad raised his voice. “As I said, this is not your decision. It is mine.”

“As the Commander of International Rescue, it is my call.” Scott shifted his stance, his shoulders firming up as he pushed himself to his full height.

But Dad didn’t need height.

Dad was Dad.

His cane tapped the floor sharply. “Not this time, son.” The word ‘son’ was obviously aimed at putting Scott in his place.

Scott glared at his father. Virgil figured that the only reason he had paused was because this was his father. A brother would have been steamrolled by now and anyone else positively flattened.

Instead...

“It’s not safe!” It was a true statement, but Virgil read it more as ‘I can’t lose you again!’

It was echoed in his own heart.

Dad’s voice softened slightly. “Humanity never got anywhere by taking it easy.”

“But you’ve already given too much!”

And Virgil was moving, striding up beside his brother, a hand landing on Scott’s shoulder as he bodily intervened between the two. He fixed his glare on his parent.

“What the hell is going on?”

-o-o-o-

Next

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 3

Well, this took longer than anticipated! Somehow I kept rewriting this cause it wasn’t turning out how I wanted it to, but it’s here! And to compensate for the wait, it’s slightly longer than the other chapters :D

Thank you Nayla and @inloveoknutzy for proof reading and your help, I love you guys 😊

And thanks again @lumosinlove for your amazing characters and universe, quite a few of them make an appearance today!

Wether you celebrate christmas or not, I hope you all had a wonderful day ❤️ Enjoy!

CW: Mention of past hospital stay and mild panic attack. Please look after yourself  ❤️ (If you want to skip that part stop reading at the end when it says “Remus trailed off, his voice dying down.” and start again when it says “He stood up suddenly.”)

Chapter 3 - Halloween

The slap of Remus' feet against the ground was a steady beat in the morning air. The cool breeze fanning his face felt refreshing, fully waking him up as he and Lily made their way between the trees in the park.

Remus had always been used to jogging alone, but since Lily had started going to his clases she was quickly becoming a very good friend, and spending time with her was something he really enjoyed. They liked going out for coffee and talking a lot, and Remus had already learned quite a bit about her: she wasn't really dating Sirius, but a guy named James, who was Sirius' best friend. She lived just a few blocks from his apartment building, worked in a bookshop not too far from there, and was one of the most kind and cool people Remus had met so far. She reminded him a bit of Leo in that aspect.

She was also incredibly stubborn.

"You are coming to the party tonight, right?" 

Remus groaned. He'd hoped Lily would have forgotten about it in the past two weeks, but clearly he'd underestimated Lily Evans' will power when she got something in her mind.

"I told you already Lils, he and I don't get along very well."

Contrary to Lily’s, his relationship with Sirius was only getting worse. They’d run into each other a couple of times, and it was always a very tense affair; Remus ignored him as best he could, and Black had not teased him again but had gone back to being a grumpy jerk. After Lily's insistence, he'd told her why he was against being anywhere near her friend, all the annoying things he did, but he didn't add that he had made a complete fool of himself in front of Black and that there was no way he would willingly show his face into his home.

Lily sighed, "I know, but it's not been a good month for Sirius. I'm sure you guys would get along great if you met under different circumstances."

"Maybe," Remus conceded, although he wasn't so sure about that, "but I have plans with Leo already, and I haven't seen him since he helped me move in."

That was longer than they usually spent apart, but it couldn't be helped. Leo was studying and he lived a bit far away, which made everything more complicated. But he would be arriving in a few hours to stay over for the weekend; they were gonna walk around, grab pizza at Sid's and then they would do a horror movie marathon. And even if Remus enjoyed Lily's company deeply, he'd much rather spend Halloween in the comfort of his own house with his best friend, than in a party full of strangers and with a man that made him feel embarrassed and on edge all at once. Remus wasn't used to having his emotions all over the place like this, not since his last boyfriend. He didn't like being reminded of how he’d felt then.

Raising her hands in surrender, Lily dropped the subject without another word, which surprised but pleased Remus greatly. He didn’t think he could have kept giving her excuses without explaining the whole situation to her.

He should have known better than to think it would be that easy.

That evening, he was coming back home with Leo after stuffing their mouths with the best pizza ever, pineapple of course, still catching up to what he’d missed in the past few weeks.

"How’s your mum, Leo?"

"Oh God, I swear since you left both our mums have gotten worse. They get together all the time, gossiping and baking. It’s like they are our age again. And your mum’s convinced you’re seeing someone," Leo said with a smirk.

"You and I both know that my dog is the only one around here that I’m seeing," Remus rolled his eyes.

They stepped into the entrance hall, saying hi to the concierge at the front desk with a smile. The man smiled back, but he looked tired. More so than usual, and it wasn’t even that late, which struck Remus as weird, but he figured working night shifts must take its toll on someone.

It wasn’t long before they were on the lift going up, but it was only when the doors opened on Remus’ floor that they heard the deep bass notes coming from the end of the corridor.

“What the…” Leo muttered in surprise.

Remus frowned as they walked into the hall, passing by a few people in costumes with drinks in their hands who were chatting excitedly, and a couple making out next to Remus’ door.

“I can’t believe this. What’s the deal with that guy, how did he manage to get the administration on board with this?”

“What the hell is going on?” Leo asked, clearly confused.

“Halloween party,” Remus replied, trying to keep his blood from boiling. He hadn’t thought it would be such a big party, he wasn’t even sure they were allowed to do something like this. He was pretty positive the building’s rules were against it. Maybe Black had bribed someone. “He could have at least warned me that it would be this bad,” Remus said grumpily, eyeing the couple by his door like he was ready to shove them aside.

Leo must have noticed this, ‘cause a second later he patted Remus’ back and fetched the spare keys Remus had given him.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Using his smile, and patience that Remus didn’t have right then, Leo got rid of the lovebirds and was about to put the key in when Remus glanced around and saw Lily leaning against the wall at the end. She looked amazing in her Rosie the Riveter costume that exposed her lean arms and legs, and was talking with one of the guys that Remus had seen wandering around the building. She was making big gestures with her hands when she looked up and locked eyes with Remus.

“Fuck.”

Leo turned around to look at him quizzically just as Lily screamed “Remus!” and started making her way over to them.

The man next to her followed behind. He was wearing a white and gold toga that barely covered his thighs and showed a lot of his broad chest, with golden bands on his forearms and sandals.

Remus heard the sound of keys crashing against the floor, and looked up to see Leo’s slightly wide eyes and open mouth as he stared at the two people getting closer to them. He coughed pointedly and Leo blinked again and bent down to pick up his keys as a flush started creeping up his neck. Oh, how he would tease him for this. 

But that was for later, right now he had to deal with a grinning Lily Evans.

For half a second he considered just going inside and avoiding all of this, but he couldn’t do that to Lily, and it was already way too late to pretend he hadn’t seen her.

“Hey, you’re here! How was your dinner?” 

Remus wondered if she’d been waiting outside just to catch him, but she seemed genuinely happy to see him, and he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“It was great, thank you. Leo and I were just gonna go chill for a bit, so…” he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at his flat, but Lily tilted her head up to focus on Leo and her eyes got a knowing look that couldn’t be good.

“Hi, I’m Lily, and this is Logan,” she smiled coyly as she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder who, Remus noticed, was alternating between staring at Leo and down at the floor; but he smiled warmly when Leo gave him a shy wave.

“Salut! Are you guys joining the party?” he said with eager eyes, and it was then that Remus managed to place Black’s accent, as it was so similar to Logan’s. French. He had to fight not to groan.

“Ah, sorry, but well,” Remus said vaguely, “we don’t really have costumes.” It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but it was the first thing he could think of. Leo snapped his eyes to him, a conflicted scowl settling on his face.

As expected, Lily waved a dismissive hand, “costumes are not mandatory. C’mon, I promise you’ll have fun.”

It felt like all three of them were staring at him with pleading eyes now, and Remus had no idea why. Well, he had an idea in Leo’s case, but still. Remus glanced at his best friend and could read his face as if it had subtitles. Please, Remus, just for a bit? Remus raised an eyebrow in response, and Leo turned on the puppy eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan almost choking on his drink.

“Ugh, fine, I guess we could stop by for a bit.”

Clapping her hands happily, Lily guided them over to the front door and opened it for them. Meanwhile, Remus was taking a deep breath, wondering how the fuck he could keep a straight face and not die from embarrassment.

Inside, there were more people going about, a table full of cups and all sorts of bottles where Lily immediately fixed them with drinks, and some music on the background that a few people were dancing to. Overall, it wasn’t as wild as it seemed from the outside.

The main crowd appeared to be gathered around an entertainment center in the living room, where there was a huge TV surrounded by a big and comfy looking couch, and a few too-huge armchairs. There were people sitting on them, on the floor, and perched on the arm and backrests; and among all of them Remus saw everyone he’d ran into in the previous weeks. Logan went straight to sit next to the redhead, who had a controller in his hands that he was tapping furiously, as he was taking part in a fighting game.

Remus didn’t pay much attention to them though, ‘cause he’d spotted Sirius in the room and stopped short at what he saw.

Sirius' costume was simple but effective. He was wearing jeans that seemed barely able to contain his powerful thighs, a white tank top splashed with blood, dog tags hanging around his neck, a cigar between his pink lips and fake blades sprouting from his knuckles. It went without saying, he made a very enticing Wolverine.

But that was not why Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away —at least not the main reason why. Black was sitting right next to the guy in glasses, who was leaning into him, whispering something in his ear as he played the game, with his eyes still on the tv screen and his fingers flying over the controller. Sirius was laughing freely at whatever the guy was saying, head thrown back and eyes crinkled, which was something Remus had not seen before.

And it took his fucking breath away.

Black was always so serious, barely any expression on his face, but now he was shaking his head, looking at the other guy with such unmasked fondness, that Remus felt a spark of curiosity light inside of him.

But then Sirius looked up, frowned, and the spark died.

He watched as Sirius’ eyes travelled down his body and then slowly all the way up, and Remus swore he saw something in his face before his scowl deepened. Suddenly feeling extremely self conscious of his big comfy jumper and fitted jeans, Remus bunched the sleeves to hide his hands, worrying the hem. He started turning around to go somewhere else, already thinking of ways to escape from the party, but Lily put a hand on both his back and Leo’s and guided them exactly to where Sirius was sitting on one of the armrests.

“What’s this, Lily?” the man said in an accusing tone, setting the cigar down on the table in front of him.

Lily just rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a party pooper. Remus lives next door, I just thought it would be good if you two actually got to know each other like two civilized people. And y’know, introduce him to the gang, so he doesn’t freak out every time they invade your home.”

“Wait, how do you know him?” the guy in glasses suddenly looked up.

“Oh, he’s the teacher in my new yoga class.”

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” he pouted, and Remus figured this must be James. He was proven right when Lily smiled at him, going over and sitting in his lap. The game was suddenly forgotten; James didn’t seem to mind that he was now losing very quickly.

“Pots, focus!” someone yelled, but James only had eyes for Lily as she leaned in and kissed him.

“Are you worried?” she teased.

James scoffed. “Of course not. I trust you with my life Lils, but it’s such a weird coincidence.”

“Wait, no no no! Oh, come on!” There were laughs all around as the redhead next to Logan threw the controller down and turned to mock glare at Lily and James. “Lily, what did I tell you? Don’t distract him when he plays on my team!”

“Stop crying and pay up, O’Hara!” a guy from the other team yelled, before giving a high-five to his partner.

Between all the ruckus and bickering that followed, a tall girl with curly blond hair came to stand next to them with a curious look. 

“Who’s this?”

“Oh yeah,” Lily sat up, getting the attention of the whole room. “Everyone, these are Remus and Leo. Remus is Sirius' new neighbor, so be nice to them!”

Remus laughed awkwardly at the motherly introduction and pulled at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Thanks Lily. It’s nice to meet you all.”

"Hello," Leo smiled brightly, earning himself a dopey smile from the boy next to Logan.

The blond girl that had approached them smiled a wicked grin, “you guys just stepped into the lion’s den. I’m Marlene, by the way. These are Talker and Kasey,” she said pointing to the pair that had just won. The guy named Talker smiled broadly, but didn’t wink at Remus like he had the first time they had seen each other. “And the sore loser over there is Finn.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Pots has the attention span of a two year old!”

There were a lot more people sitting around, whose introductions were lost under the chirping war that ensued as the guys put in a new game. Remus’ face lit up when he looked up at the screen.

“Is that the new NHL game?”

Most heads turned his way, and the guy that was changing games even stopped in the middle of the action as if Remus had just announced to the whole room that he wanted to dance around naked.

“Yeah, do you play?”

It was Sirius that had asked, which surprised Remus since it was the first thing he’d said directly to him since he’d entered the room. Black looked surprised, his body completely turned to face Remus as opposed to the sideway glances he’d been throwing his way.

“I’ve been thinking about buying it for a while, but I’ve never tried it before. I loved the previous version though.” At Sirius’ shocked expression, Remus raised an eyebrow, “Is it so weird that I enjoy playing video games?”

“No,” Sirius choked out, and then cleared his throat. “No. It’s just that we don’t usually meet people that seem so eager to play with us rather than getting buzzed out of their minds.”

Remus scoffed, “I very much prefer this type of party to be honest.” His thought was echoed by laughs and nods of agreement all around.

Settling more comfortably on the couch, Sirius removed the fake claws and bent down to grab a controller, turning to offer it to Remus. “Play with me?”

The guys in the room looked at each other in a way that Remus thought was a bit suspicious, which made him narrow his eyes at Black, who rolled his and waved the remote between them. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t bite y’know.”

Remus stared into those silver eyes and was lost for a second. There was a fire burning in his gaze, he seemed more earnest than he’d ever seen him before. In that moment, Remus forgot that this was the guy he was trying to avoid, the one that got his emotions in complete disarray, and he absentmindedly took the control in his hands before sitting down next to Sirius. Leo sat at his other side, slapping him on the back.

“Kick his ass, Loops.”

Finn’s head lifted at the same time that Remus turned to grin at Leo, and Remus had to keep in a chuckle. Boy, Leo was really getting some attention tonight.

Sirius chose to play with Pittsburgh, while Remus chose Dallas, and before Remus could properly think about what he was doing, the game had started.

For the first few minutes, Sirius controlled the pace and took the lead with a smug expression on his face, punching the buttons almost lazily. The corner of Remus’ mouth quirked up. Sirius was good, really good, but he was too conceited, and soon he would regret that.

Indeed, right after that, Remus scored a goal and Sirius’ face dropped. Leo whooped, giving him a high-five while Sirius sat forward and leant on his elbows, his eyes set on the TV. It was a very heated deal after that.

Both of them fought like it was a life or death sort of situation, bumping their shoulders occasionally and chirping each other as if they were actually on the ice.

“Don’t you think Sirius looks an awful lot like Letang?” a shocked James whispered into Lily’s ear, but everyone around heard him.

“Oh wow, that’s terrifying,” Finn was looking from the screen to Sirius’ face with wide eyes.

Remus snorted, and he was surprised to realize he was actually enjoying himself. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t had so much fun with anyone other than Leo in a really long time; it was hard to keep the wide grin from his face as he started catching up to Sirius.

“C’mon Rem, you almost have it,” Leo encouraged when they were tied.

Sirius threw a side glance their way with a frown, just as Remus shot the puck and scored another goal. The game finished not too long after with a scream of “Yes!” from both Remus and Leo, who laughed together and hugged each other, Remus giggling when Leo ruffled his hair.

“Finn...dimples,” Remus heard the whisper from somewhere in the room and looked up to see who’d said it, but was instead met by a disbelieving gaze. Sirius was almost gawking at him, his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open, but his eyes were bright and Remus ducked his head when he felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

Then he glanced around and realized that other people in the room were staring at him in different states of wide eyes.

“What?”

Finn was the one to break the short silence, “Just...bitch ass moves, Remus.”

That prompted an onslaught of questions.

“How did you do that?”

“None of us has ever beaten Sirius in that game before.”

“What do you do again?”

Remus looked at Talker, rubbing the back of his neck, “Um. I’m a PT and a yoga instructor.”

"Well, shit," Talker nodded approvingly. Remus supposed he didn’t really look like a gamer, but he didn’t get what the fuss was all about.

“He’s pretty famous too, a lot of people are waiting in line for his classes,” Leo added with a note of pride in his voice.

“Oh!” Remus turned to look at Kasey, who had his eyes trained on him. “That’s where I know you from! My girlfriend Natalie is obsessed with your videos. She says you’re a great teacher, and not at all bad to look at,” he said with a straight face.

Remus’ cheeks flushed a deeper red in a matter of seconds and he looked down to avoid everyone’s gazes. Especially those grey eyes that seemed to look into his soul.

“Mon dieu, il y a des vidéos?” Sirius muttered, making Leo laugh. Sirius’ head snapped towards him, his eyes widening as Leo replied something in french with a smirk etched on his soft features, something that Remus didn’t understand but it made Sirius choke on his words.

“What’s that?” Remus asked, but Leo only shook his head, still laughing, before his eyes drifted off and found Finn and Logan staring at him. A blush appeared on his cheeks, and Remus could practically hear the other two boys swooning.

There was a deep scowl on Sirius’ face again, who was still very much staring at Remus. Was it because he didn’t like Remus? Or because he didn't like losing? What a sore loser, Remus thought, but he felt squirmish under that gaze. Why is he still staring at me?

But then he saw Black glancing at Leo’s pride bracelet, his expression going harder. Oh God, that would be the cherry on top if he was a homophobic, wouldn’t it? He was about to ask if he had a problem, but someone spoke first.

“I believe the word used was hot,” Natalie’s voice drifted in as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. Remus pulled a face at her.

“Nat, you can’t just go saying those things!”

“What? It’s true,” she shrugged. “I mean, I won’t if it bothers you, but that aside, you’re definitely better than half the people out there.”

James threw his hands in the air impatiently. “I still can’t believe you beat Pa-” he started, but was interrupted by a death glare and he cleared his throat, “Sirius. I can’t believe you won against Sirius.” Then a mischievous smile slowly spread on his face. “I mean, Remus, you could probably beat that Padfoot guy, and he does that for a living.”

Remus snorted, “as if. There’s no way I could ever beat Pads.”

He saw eyebrows being raised, and the scowl completely disappearing from Sirius’ features, to be replaced by a perplexed expression.

“You...you know about him?” he asked, with such awe in his voice that Remus frowned.

“I...yes? I’ve followed his channel since before he got famous,” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that interesting?” James said with a smirk, turning to look at Sirius, who punched him in the arm. James’ smile just widened and Remus’ frown deepened as he continued, "I wonder what you could possibly like about him."

“I personally think that Padfoot is a stuck-up,” Logan said off-handedly, ignoring the daggers Sirius was shooting his way.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s all that, but he’s a bit annoying really,” Finn added, barely keeping in the laughter.

Leo raised his eyebrows, glancing sideways at Remus when he noticed him tensing up, his fists clenching.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” he finally said, causing the laughter to die down. “Padfoot built himself from the ground up, he didn’t have any outside help. And he’s not a stuck-up! Even in the face of all the nonsense criticism he gets, he helps a lot of people in all sorts of situations without even...” Remus trailed off, his voice dying down. He felt like he’d been thrown underwater. He stared off at nothing, his eyes getting slightly unfocused as he tried to think solely of breathing, but he couldn’t avoid being suddenly thrown into a memory.

The cold bed with rumpled sheets. The beeping of his own heart in the hospital machine. His mum’s painting on the nightstand. The smell of antiseptics and dull walls closing in on him. Not being able to get air into his lungs.  A retreating back, walking away from him. Being left alone, alone alone al–

He stood up suddenly, finally taking a shaky breath in.

“I should go check on my dog.” Leo glanced his way, and Remus gave him a reassuring smile, “You can stay if you want to. You have the keys.” He gave him a little nod to convey the answer to Leo’s unspoken question. I’m fine, don’t worry.

Remus turned around and exited the room with a dull ‘bye’, completely unaware of Sirius’ utterly soft expression as he watched him go.

[mydekuacademia]

Take My Hand

Villain!reader has a panic attack in the League of Villains hideout. Nobody expected Dabi to know how to bring them out of it.

Warning: panic attack, cussing

A/N: i wrote an entire dabi fic then tumblr ate it, so im salty as hell and instead of rewriting that, ig ill just do this lol. Enjoy!

The League was confused. They knew how to handle heroes, difficult missions, stealth, but they had no idea how to handle a fellow league member trembling and panting for seemingly no reason. Shigaraki had flat out refused to deal with you, stalking out of the room after telling you to get it together. Spinner was frantically trying to think of what to do, his panic only heightening yours. Toga was squealing about how cute you were, getting far too close and being far too loud. Magne was tapping away on her phone looking for a coping mechanism she thought would work for you. Kurogiri was busy talking to Shigaraki about an upcoming mission. Everyone else was trying their hardest to ignore you.

You had no idea what triggered the attack - nothing had been out of the ordinary. Regardless, all you knew was that your throat was closing, black spots were dancing at the edges of your vision, and you were absolutely going to die.

What a pathetic way to die, especially in this line of work.

You were certain you were seconds away from passing out when a figure squatted in front of you and held a hand out to you, palm up.

"Take my hand, (Y/n)," a soft voice. You were in no position to question them, so you complied. The warm, calloused hand closed around yours. "Squeeze as hard as you need to, okay? You won't hurt me."

You squeezed their hand lightly to acknowledge that you heard them. Their warmth eased your mind just enough to clear your vision a bit. Your eyes shot wide open when you saw dark scarred skin and the glint of metal.

"D-dabi?" you stuttered breathlessly.

He nodded and squeezed your hand firmly. "Can you tell me five things you see right now?"

You paused and glanced at your surroundings. "You, the couch, the rug, Toga, my hand."

"Good. Now four things you can feel."

"My shirt, your hand, the floor, and uh...the couch." Your breaths started slowing a bit.

"Three things you can hear."

"You, my heart, and Spinner."

"Two things you can smell."

"Whiskey and dust."

"And one thing you can taste."

"Salt."

Dabi nodded and ran his thumb over your knuckles before turning to Spinner and asking him to get you a glass of water. "How do you feel?"

You took a moment to assess yourself. "Tired, kind of cold. But better." You smiled at the man in front of you. "Thank you, Dabi."

"Don't mention it," he muttered. When he saw the goosebumps running up your arms, he sighed and slid his jacket off, tossing it over your shoulders like a cape. He then grabbed the glass of water Spinner was holding out and handed it to you, making sure your still trembling hands could hold it before he turned to leave the room.

"Dabi, wait," you squeaked. He turned to face you with an eyebrow quirked. "Will you stay with me? Just for a bit." Dabi sighed then nodded, plopping next to you on the couch and slouching down a bit. "How did you know how to help me?"

He was silent for a moment, then glanced up at the rest of the league milling about the room.

"You know about my relationship with my father," he started. "But, I have three younger siblings. I tried so fucking hard to keep them from him, but it didn't always work. They weren't as used to it as I was, so they often panicked. Mom was usually busy with my youngest brother, so I was left to help the other two. The grounding technique I used with you always worked with them, so I figured you'd respond well too."

You frowned. "I'm so sorry, Dabi. You were just a child, you shouldn't have had to deal with any of that."

He shrugged and closed his eyes. You knew he wouldn't want to talk about it anymore, so you simply leaned into his side and offered him physical reassurance. After all, it was the least you could do after he helped you moments earlier. He cracked an eye open and smirked a bit.

"Don't worry about me, Doll. I'm not the same broken little boy I was before. I'm not Touya. Besides, you just had a panic attack. All you should be worried about is feeling better." He slung an arm across your shoulders, pulling you further into him. In response, you placed an arm across his stomach and snuggled your face into his shoulder.

"Thank you, Dabi. I owe you one."

And if you felt a soft kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep, you'd never tell.

[teatimecrumpetsandsugar]

freefall (voltron; pidge/lance)

Heyo! This story is based on a request from @jabbloo​ !

Hi!! I'm not sure if this is the right place for it, but I couldn't find your ask box AJDKSKDS ; I'd like to request Pidge/Lance discovering a planet where it's very lush and green and full of plant life, and it turns out you can essentially snowboard on slippery algae hills, so they grab some boards and go at it!! :D thank you for your consideration!! ❤️❤️

I’m gonna write this to the best of my ability for you- thank you so much for making a request! for the record, if you don’t see an ask box anywhere it’s because I’m really new to Tumblr and have no idea how to do any of this- I set up the request post with the instruction of a friend, so I’m hoping I learn over time! Anyway, onto the story :D

Btw, feel free to let me know if I didn’t touch on the prompt the way you wanted and I’m happy to go back and rewrite it or make a part two- I actually had a ton of fun writing this and wouldn’t mind doing more of it!

/                                                                                                            \

“It’s really... green,” Pidge comments, grimacing at the monitor, “Are you sure anything sentient lives there? I’m not seeing any signs of manmade structures here.”

Allura tilts her head slowly, “Maybe we’re missing something? I mean, the beacon definitely came from here, so there has to be some kind of civilization...” She gestures her hand towards the surface uncertainly, “...Somewhere.”

Pidge glances back at the rest of the team, cocking an eyebrow, “Do we go?”

Most of the team seems just as unsure, but, when her gaze locks on Lance’s, she sees a sparkle in his cobalt blue irises. She heaves a sigh, fondly rolling her eyes at his exaggerated pout, “What do you think, Lance?”

A wide, toothy grin takes up residence on his face, and he turns to the rest of the Paladins with an enthusiasm she wishes he’d have for any other important discussions, “It’s so pretty there, you guys!” He pauses, seeming to realize that isn’t a valid argument, and tries again, “If there really is a community there asking to join the coalition and we don’t go, it wouldn’t look good for us. Plus, it’s gorgeous and wouldn’t be a bad place to see up close- please, please, please can we go?”

Pidge turns her gaze back to the monitor, taking in the thick foliage and sprawling canopies of leaves they can see just from a satellite image of the small planet- it is objectively pretty, and she can’t fight the smile that tugs at her lips as she imagines the delight on Lance’s face. One was arguably more beautiful than the other, but that was more a matter of opinion than anything else, really.

She turns to Allura, hesitant, but the older woman already has a pleased smile on her face, “Lance is right- we should go, just to make sure it’s really empty.”

/ /                                                                                                        \ \

It really is just as beautiful as it was on the monitor.

When the airlock opens, a burst of warm, sweet-smelling air hits her face, trees almost as big as the castle itself surrounding them. The warm orange light of the planet’s solar entity breaks through the thick canopy of leaves sparingly, forming cracks of blazing light on the forest floor, yet, somehow, there are flowers and grasses of all kind flourishing everywhere underfoot.

She can’t help but marvel as she realizes that all of these trees must be thousands- or perhaps even millions- of years old, small creatures nesting all along them and forming a glorious symphony of chirps, purrs, and soft buzzes of all kind around them.

She turns to look at Lance, marveling at the way the rich, blazing orange light hits his face, defining his each and every feature in a way that takes her breath away- the blue of his eyes is even more captivating than normal, twinkling with complete, blinding euphoria.

He smiles brightly, barking out a short, giddy laugh before snatching Pidge’s hand from her side and taking off running towards the trees. His excitement is contagious, even as she stumbles over her own feet trying to keep up with his long strides, and she finds herself laughing loudly as she follows after him.

It takes a while to weave completely through the trees, but, when they do, he stops suddenly, peering out over a vast cliff. She runs straight into his back from her own momentum, clinging to him in surprise when she realizes the ground is a lot more slippery here than it was in the woods. Curiously, she peaks around his tall, lean frame, a soft gasp pulling itself from her throat as she sees what’s on the other side.

The hill they stand on is steep, overlooking a vast basin and another sprawling forest, the orange sun shining high in the sky over the horizon and reflecting perfectly off of the shallow water in the center of the serene area. The shore is lush and green, dotted with colorful pinpricks Pidge can tell are flowers even from miles away, and the world seems to be at her fingertips, completely still and perfect in that moment.

She’s caught off-guard when the ground under their shoes begins to give under their combined weight, suddenly beginning to slide- Lance suddenly topples over, dragging her down with him with his grip on her hand, and the two of them soon find themselves sliding down the hill at a high speed. She cries out in surprise, followed by his hectic, raucous cackling as they plummet towards the ground at breakneck speeds, only to follow the hill’s gentle slope and slide to a stop on the basin’s shore.

For a moment, they’re both completely silent in surprise, laying on their backs with their gazes locked on the rich, pink-hued sky and rich violet water lapping gently at their ankles, breathing heavily from the sudden motion.

And then Pidge starts laughing. At first, they’re subdued little giggles, fits and spurts of amusement tickling at her throat, before she realizes how absurd it’d been and truly begins laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners and chest heaving, breath stuttering with each unceremonious snort that creeps in. Lance turns his face to the side to watch her in awe, a crooked grin slowly rising to meet his eyes and his own bright, delighted laugh breaking from his chest in a moment that’s truly absurdly them.

“It’s algae!” Pidge cries breathlessly, nose flushing pink from her stuttered breaths and warm brown eyes falling shut, “I was wondering why the grass got so slippery, but it was never grass at all! This body of water was probably formed by water running under the surface- it’s probably also why the grass and plants are surviving without enough sunlight!” She grins in realization, excited by the discovery, “This planet is at least 65% land-dwelling algae but it all looks so natural I didn’t even notice at first!”

She opens her eyes again, slowly turning to look at Lance, expecting to find him confused or asleep, but, to her surprise, he’s watching her with rapt attention. Her nose wrinkles in confusion, confused discomfort pressing against her chest, before he gives her a ridiculous smirk and says, “I love when you talk biology to me.”

She stifles a loud, surprised snort, laughing brightly until she registers the edge of honest reverence lurking just beneath it and her breath catches, “I like that you listen, even when you don’t get it.”

He pauses, unsure how to continue now that he’s gotten this far, before perking up suddenly, “You wanna go snowboarding on it, Pidge?” She squawks out a laugh, sitting up, “Would it even be snowboarding if it’s algae? Isn’t that just... algae-boarding?”

He pouts playfully, and she rolls her eyes fondly, “I’m just messing with you, Lance. We gotta find boards first, though...”

The pout is gone faster than it appeared, an excited smile taking its place as he shoots to his feet, pulling her up with him, “Come on! Come on, come on, come on- we gotta find something to use as a board, Pidge!”

She laughs again, letting him pull her along back towards the castle, knowing it’d only get more and more hectic as the day went on and looking forward to every second of it as long as he was by her side.

[domesticated-feral]

Thank you @nacreousgore for tagging me, oh boy was this fun to do!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 52 works on AO3 as of writing this.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Since it's been a year that I've been writing on ao3, I've amassed a total word count of 149,243 words.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only 2 so far. I used to write Twenty One Pilots bandom fics before and now I just write Teen Wolf fics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So, I have 4 Sterek fics and one Stackson fic in my top 5; they are:

Yellow for Happiness and Purple, Because of Stiles (YFHAPBOS) - a good old falling in love Sterek fic with blind!Stiles and synesthete!Derek

Intoxicating - Stackson oneshot which has smut and possible interpretively werewolf!Stiles

Lunch with Sticky Note Compliments - Sterek in an office AU. It's literally what it says on the box.

Happiness in Your Arms - an abandoned WIP that's for some reason still on my AO3. It's sterek and takes place in the early 1910's. (I do not recommend reading this fic of mine..)

Sterek One Shot #2 - the second tw fic that I ever wrote on ao3. Didn't even bother to give it a title cause I didn't know what to title it...hah. it's also the last first person pov fic that I wrote until I transitioned to mainly writing third and second person povs.

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

No doubt it's You Wish I Was Yours (And I Know That You're Mine) because of the overall dead dove: do not eat essence of the oneshot. After all, it's Void Stiles/Kanima-Werewolf Jackson who's under Void's manipulation.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

So, I have two contenders imo for this. Yellow for Happiness is one because the ending is cute, and the overall fic mood is happy if you average it out. Then there's To Fall For Him, which I recently wrote and the ending ends on a really happy note compared to the rest of the fic so the steady incline in fic mood makes it have one of the happiest endings. Although, most of my fics (expect for that void/kanima Jax fic) have happy endings. I'm all for leaving a fic on a bittersweet/good note y'know.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written?

I have yet to write a crossover, but I weirdly enough have a Five Nights At Freddy's x Teen Wolf crossover planned out in my Google docs. Don't know if it's ever going to see the light of ao3 or the internet.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Since I started writing smut only recently, I have been experimenting with many different types of smut, mix and matching a lot of things. Most of them are made with love so ig it's the loving kind of smut, excluding that one void/kanima Jax fic (again).

9. Do you respond to comments, why, or why not?

I def respond to each and every one of the comments I receive. It's not much since I'm only a rookie fic writer but every single comment lights up my day whenever I get them and I hope my response lights up their day too :D

10. Have you received hate on a fic?

Nope, so far I haven't gotten any hate on any of my fics and hopefully that sticks for a long time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Not yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Unless talking to my sister about fic ideas and about how the story is playing out and ranting about plot holes to her is co-writing a fic, then no.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My otps change periodically and I multi-ship like crazy so I don't have an 'all-time' favourite. But atm, the most mind-space-taking ships are Stackson, Scerek, Scydia, Stalia and Sciles. Sceo and Sterek sometimes show up.

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

One day, I aspire to have less than a 100 wips, but there's just a few select ones that I am not going to touch on ever again. Either out of sheer confusion of what the story is about or because I do not want to continue on them anymore. They are titled in my Google docs as;

• It's a Jacksciles fic now

• Smutty Sterek pls send help

• Look, when i find an angsty dialogue prompt and song (especially if it's by Panic! At The Disco) you know im defaulting to Stackson Second Person Smut + Angst mode in a heartbeat

• yeah, i have a specific trope i wish to write.

These are just some of them that either I rewrite completely or just not touch ever again.

16. What are your writing strengths?

The ability to write a lot in the spur of the moment. I can easily get into a writing mood if I'm not in a writing rut.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The ability to write only in the spur of the moment. My motivation comes in either 5 hour feasts or 30 minute scraps. (easily burn-out able)

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It is cool, and I'd love to give it a try. Sometimes I deeply want to include my native language in the fics that I write, but the thing is that it's not known widely across the Earth.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Twenty One Pilots bandom!

20. What's your favourite fic you've written?

I cannot choose one from all my word vomit creations, but I had a lot of fun writing these.

Cinnamon Rolls & Intimate Control - Stackson smut with the added bonus of Stiles making Cinnamon Rolls.

My Heart Races Whenever I Look At You - Sceo, Street Racing Au, so very cute

The fics that I have so far written for the Finding Your Soulmate: Werewolf Edition series - Scerek for now, the fics have been a delight to write and so far, the story is just getting started.

And a honourable mention, Perceptions of Perfection - SCACKSON, what more should I say?

Tagging: @scilessweetheart @shyawkwardwriter @nutellarghh @sequinedmonkey

[insaneinthepaingame]

✋🏻🐾 or 🕷. Your choice!

🐾 - A personalized brand burned into their skin.

It was so hard to choose! The denial one will DEFO feature in NSFWhumptober later on so keep your eyes peeled 👀 Might even rewrite or extend this one too :D

Thank you for the ask! These are always open

~~~

CW: branding, begging, burning

~~~

If he was being honest with himself, Matthias was only surprised Tristan hadn’t suggested this sooner. When he arrived into Matthias’s basement dwelling with a bucket of steaming hot coals and poker in hand, Matthias’s throat began to constrict at the prospect of what was to come. Usually, however, Tristan used a dagger to burn him, alighting it with his own arcane magic to searing temperatures. A bucket and poker was new, and new was terrifying.

So when his tormentor told him he would be branded, Matthias started to panic. “NO!” he cried out, pulling on his restraints. Tristan merely watched him squirm in place, too weak and withered to fight back with any real earnestness.

Slowly, Tristan advanced, and Matthias shrunk even further back, his chains rattling as he pressed himself back as far as he can into the unforgiving wall, trapped between it and the monster wielding a fiery iron towering over him. Whimpering, he tried to struggle away from Tristan’s grip as the older man held him steady. “Tristan, p-please no… please! Please!”

“Hush,” Tristan shushed with a soft hand caressing Matthias’s arm, like he was genuinely trying to comfort him.

Like he genuinely wasn’t going to put searing hot metal into his skin on a whim.

“You’re going to do this, and you’re going to be good for me,” Tristan continued in his unnervingly soft tone. “You know I like it when you’re good for me. Good boys get rewards, after all.”

Gulping, Matthias’s wide and erratic eyes met his captor’s, then flicked between the steaming bucket beside him and the door he’d never be able to reach.

“Hey, don’t look over there, look at more,” Tristan cooed, but now there was a sharp edge to it. “It’s just a tiny little brand to show your dedication to me. I could have carved one that said ‘property of’ or something of the like, but I felt that was a little ham-fisted. Be thankful it’s only three little letters.”

Dedication. The word made Matthias want to wretch. Their fucked up relationship could be described as a lot of things, but ideas of ‘dedication’ and ‘loyalty’ did not float around near the top.

But with a sinking realisation Matthias accepted that this was going to happen. But he’d been hurt and burned by Tristan before. It never gets easier, but at least he somewhat knew what to expect. Still, to have something scarred into him forever more, a word, and Matthias had a pretty good idea of what that word would be.

“I’ll even let you choose where it’ll go,” Tristan offered, like there was some semblance of a reasonable man lurking beneath his shadows. “Where would you like it, hm? How about your lower back, or your upper arm? Maybe one of your thighs, or-”

“Thigh,” Matthias cut in hurriedly. There was less of a chance anyone would ever see it in such an intimate place. It would just be their little secret.

Their little secret… Matthias swallowed down the bile pooling in his throat. Everything about their relationship was like a dirty, twisted little secret. This was just another drop in the bucket.

“Okay, good. Can you move your robe out of the way for me?”

Slowly, Matthias complied, savouring his last few moments without the impending agony.

His quiet mewling turned to loud whimpers once Tristan removed the red-hot brand from the bucket. All in all, it was about the size of a human palm, but it was alight with heat.

The brand was only held on for a couple of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Matthias couldn’t hold back a scream. It was earth-shattering, loud enough to erupt nearby volcanoes. He jerked so hard in his chains that he almost dislocated a shoulder in doing so. The shock of it nearly knocked him clean out, but unfortunately unconsciousness refused to claim him this time.

Sweating profusely, Matthias panted and groaned through the pulsing agony reverberating around his body. He was shaken out of his pained stupor by a gentle hand caressing his cheek.

“Hey, you did so good, well done,” Tristan placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Why don’t you read what your new brand says?”

Matthias didn’t need to look down to know what he’d been marked as.

‘Pet’

[shadows-and-science-gone-mad]

[CONTENT WARNING: scenes of graphic violence, gore, death, & cannibalism]

Talos 1193-7-E. October 6, 3738.

Thirdborn stalks through the jungle, making almost no sound as his clawed feet gently meet the soft ground. His piercing eyes flick from side to side as he scans the underbrush for prey. So far, his hunt has been unsuccessful, only managing to find a few meager scraps of flesh on a long-desiccated carcass. Plenty to sate his own appetite, but not enough. His clan is counting on him to return with enough food for everyone.

A sound in the brush causes him to halt. His head snaps toward the source of the noise. As he stares intently into the vegetation, waiting for another sign to strike, the sound repeats. Thirdborn raises his reptilian head skyward and inhales deeply. The scents of the forest seep into his brain, mixing with the thousands of memorized odors he has gathered from countless hunts. He filters out the ambient background scents until he identifies the specific odor associated with the noise he heard.

A blade-snout.

Dangerous and difficult to take down, but more than enough to feed him and his clan.

He resumes his hunt, now moving in the direction of the blade-snout’s foraging. Slowly, his quarry begins to come into view. Its body is about the size of a rhinoceros, with a dark-grey coloration leading into a brilliant red on its face. It is facing away from Thirdborn, but he can still see the meter-long serrated cranial crest that gives the beast its name. He’s faced this sort of prey before, but he will have to be extremely careful if he is to successfully kill it. He crouches even lower, his belly almost touching the forest floor. He silently slinks towards his quarry, inching ever nearer. His leg muscles tense, and he prepares to spring on his unwary victim. 

Suddenly, the foliage across the clearing explodes. Thirdborn’s carefully focused hunt is ruined as another reptilian leaps from the brush, snarling as it collides with the blade-snout’s great body. The intruder’s long claws sink into the rough hide, anchoring it in place as it begins to bite and slash at its quarry. The blade-snout bellows in surprise and pain, and begins shaking its body, trying to dislodge its attacker.

But, the predator was anticipating this.

As the blade-snout rears onto its hind legs, the predator reaches under its neck with one of its muscular arms. It grabs ahold of the blade-snout’s head, steering both hands clear of the deadly horn. Flexing its powerful muscles, it quickly twists the head at a sharp angle. A snap of bone, and the blade-snout’s struggling body goes limp, its neck broken. The predator drops its deceased prey to the ground, grabs ahold of its hind legs, and begins to drag it off into the brush.

As Thirdborn’s surprise at the sudden attack begins to fade, he truly notices the identity of the interloper. It looks almost exactly like him, only around 30% larger, and with a much blunter muzzle. A soft growl emits from his throat as he recognizes it: Firstborn, his older brother.

The rudimentary society these reptiles have begun to develop places an enormous value on physical strength and hunting prowess. As such, the oversized, powerful Firstborn seized control of the pecking order almost as soon as he reached breeding age. Meanwhile, Thirdborn, while still plenty strong, grew to be smaller-than-average, so occupied a slot near the bottom of the clan’s hierarchy. As one of the clan’s few males, he was still made to venture into the forest daily to gather food, but his meticulous planning and stealth skills were looked over in favor of his brother’s raw power.

This has fostered a deep-seated jealousy in the younger reptile. One that is certainly not helped by his brother’s current commandeering of his kill.

Thirdborn lets off an annoyed snort before turning back into the brush and stalking away. By the time he returns to his clan’s camp, he is not surprised to see his brother gloating over his accomplishment, as the others feast on the blade-snout’s flesh, utterly enthralled by his story. Thirdborn slinks over to the gnarled tangle of roots serving as his bed, drops to the ground and curls up. He has no desire to partake in celebrating an accomplishment that his brother stole from him. He closes his eyes, places a clawed hand over his head, and does his best to ignore the revelry around him.

.

Orbit of Talos 1193-7-E. October 6, 3738.

Floating weightless in the uppermost reaches of the planet’s atmosphere, the ancient dark matter entity known as Pulse watches the reptilian drama playing out below.

When one is nearly as old as the universe itself, one’s options for entertainment exhaust themselves fairly quickly. And this is certainly the case for Pulse. It has spent a veritable eternity wandering across the universe, doing little more than passively observing the goings-on around it. It hasn’t been totally idle — many a culture throughout the universe has depictions of angels or devils that resemble its rough outline of a form. But, it’s been millions of years since it last interfered directly with a developing civilization.

Something about these reptiles, though, has captured its interest.

Perhaps it feels some sort of connection with them. Perhaps their acts of joy and jealousy remind it of a simpler time, when it too felt such things. Perhaps these raw unfiltered emotions reached out to it across time, and drew it here to their source. Or perhaps it’s just really, really bored. Whatever the reason, Pulse feels an undeniable urge to interfere with their development.

But, rather than the grand gestures it usually performs — arriving in broad daylight in a flash of lightning and fire, trying to inspire fear and awe in its observers — today it plans to employ a much more... subtle method.

.

As the daylight sky blackens into night, Pulse descends through the atmosphere, landing gently on the outskirts of the reptiles’ camp. It surveys the sleeping creatures, most of them piled around the mutilated carcass of the blade-snout. Though it is an immensely-powerful being, trying to single out one individual among the tangle of bodies and limbs is too risky. It could accidentally wake them all, making this whole ‘stealth’ endeavor a waste of time.

Instead, it glides over to a lone reptile, curled up amongst the roots of a tree, some distance from the rest of the pack.

It crouches, and places an amorphous hand onto the sleeping animal’s head. Due to the unique nature of its physiology, its entire body is an exceptional conductor of electricity, and is able to transmit electrical impulses through mere physical contact.

In this case, it is transmitting brainwaves.

It imparts the sleeping creature with a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of its billions of years of experiences.

This sort of knowledge is not meant to occupy the mind of an organic entity, and even such a trace quantity is enough to fundamentally rewrite such a being’s identity, down to its very core.

Its work done, Pulse releases the reptile from its grasp. It then silently rises from the camp, returning to the upper reaches of the atmosphere, resuming its role as passive observer. It has set these events in motion, and now intends to simply watch them play out.

This should be interesting...

.

Talos 1193-7-E. October 7, 3738.

The morning sun illuminates the alien jungles of Talos, burning the nighttime darkness away with brilliant pink light. The nocturnal denizens of the forest retreat into their dens, as their diurnal counterparts take their place in the sun.

In the reptiles’ camp, the clan begins to stir. The females tend to the nests, distributing fresh meat to the elders and hatchlings who were unable to participate in the previous night’s feeding frenzy. The smaller males root through the dirt, searching for insects, small mammals, and tubers that can be added to the clan’s food stores. And, of course, Firstborn rises from his slumber, his shortened jaws stretching wide as he yawns away the night’s drowsiness.

He stretches his powerful limbs, and looks around his domain. As the largest male in the clan, all of the females mate with him, and him alone. All of the hatchlings, and even many of the young adults, were fathered by him. As he gazes upon his family, he can see all of his children, mates, and siblings going about their morning routines, exactly as they should.

All except for one.

With a snort, Firstborn stomps across the clearing to the huddled body of Thirdborn. While every other member of the clan has awoken and begun their work, his younger brother is still nestled up in his resting spot. Of course, this scrawny pariah would be so useless as to not even wake up when the morning comes.

Firstborn hisses at Thirdborn, trying to rouse him. It seems to have no effect; Thirdborn just continues to lie there, hands over its head, trembling softly. Firstborn responds to this lack of action by roaring, a loud scream that should be more than enough to wake him. Still nothing. Now seriously annoyed, Firstborn uses his powerful forelimb, and delivers a swift smack against the lout’s muzzle.

Thirdborn’s eyes snap open, and roll up to lock with Firstborn’s. But, something seems different about them. Instead of the cold amber gaze of the day before, his eyes are deep red, bloodshot, and are staring at his brother with an expression of blind, pure contempt.

No, not contempt.

Hunger.

Empty, meaningless, all-consuming hunger.

In a flash, Thirdborn erupts upward from his resting position. He impacts Firstborn square in the chest, fast enough to offset his reduced mass, and knock the larger reptile to the ground. Pinning his brother with his claws, he unhinges his jaw and clamps it around Firstborn’s throat.

Firstborn lets out a hellish scream, and tries to free himself from the smaller creature’s grip. In previous squabbles, he has never had problems overpowering Thirdborn. But now, his attempts to wrench his arms free only causes his attackers claws to dig in even deeper. Eventually, the claws break the skin, tear through muscle, and wedge themselves deep between the bones of his wrist.

His mind overwhelmed with confusion and agony, Firstborn attempts to cry out once again. But, his own bellows are cut off as Thirdborn tightens his grip around his neck. His breathing grows swift and sharp, and his mouth fills with the taste of his own blood, as his weaker sibling mercilessly crushes the life out of him.

When Firstborn finally stops struggling against his attack, and his body goes slack as the last flickers of life escape his brain, only then does Thirdborn release his grip on his throat. Dislodging his claws from the shredded tangle of tendons and muscles that were Firstborn’s arms, he raises his head skywards and screams. As long and as loud as he can. Blood fills his mouth, a mixture of his prey’s and his own, as his body seemingly fails from the extreme over-exertion of his violent act. As the air in his lungs finally runs out, he takes a step back from the still-warm body of his rival. He begins to rake his claws against Firstborn’s chest, carving long deep gouges into the flesh. He pries open the chest cavity, and begins to gorge himself on the entrails of his victim.

Naturally, this display of excessive savagery has attracted the attention of the rest of the clan. They have gathered around the cannibal’s brutal feast, and watch him with apprehension and fear. One of the older females, Firstborn’s favorite mate, slowly approaches Thirdborn. In an instant, before anyone has time to react, he whirls around and slashes her across the throat. She collapses in a heap, her body twitching as blood pours from the gaping hole in her neck. Thirdborn abandons his first kill, and shoves his muzzle into the open wound, beginning to consume the female’s body before she has even died.

The rest of the clan moves away from the bloodthirsty killer, but their movement draws his attention away from his feeding. He lets out a guttural hiss, unlike anything their species should be capable of producing, and charges at the creatures that were once his family.

Firstborn was only the beginning.

.

Talos 1193-7-E. June 16, 3739.

It has not even been a full year since Pulse visied this world and toyed with the mind of Thirdborn. And yet, if one had not seen the transformation occurring in real-time, one would never guess that the current Talos was the same planet it had visited.

Where once there were lush, vibrant jungles, now there is nothing but death. The great trees lie in ruin, the vegetation trampled into sludge, the rotting bodies of the planet’s myriad creatures baking and blackening in the sun, turning the once pink skies black as they slowly dissolve into nothingness. It would appear that, in the span of less than a year, the planet has completely died.

But, such an assessment wouldn’t be entirely accurate.

Talos didn’t die. It was killed.

From out of the mammoth carcass of a tusked grazer, a reptilian figure emerges. Its skin is caked with dried blood and flaking tissue, its claws drip with the putrefaction of its innumerable prey, and the decaying remains of the grazer’s entrails dangle from its rotting jaws, the lips completely deteriorated, revealing a tangled array of blackened teeth. It is almost recognizable as its former self, but twisted and broken beyond comprehension, its jagged body as fractured as its mind.

It scarfs down the fetid organs in a few swift gulps, before burying its snout once again into its victim’s broken thorax. This is all it has done in nearly a year — all it’s even capable of doing anymore. This basic act of consumption has completely overwhelmed its very being. What began as mere jealousy has evolved and warped into something far darker. Its metaphorical hunger made harshly, cruelly literal.

The creature once known as Thirdborn looks to the skies, spying a glimmer of starlight through the putrid clouds. And the spark of hunger flares once more in its shattered brain.

The murder of its sibling was nothing.

The massacre of its clan, a mere trifle.

Even the total annihilation of its homeworld is no longer enough.

It now hungers for existence itself.

It will consume it all.

And it will never, ever stop.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Hand in my hand (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! We back, how we feeling, fam? Everyone alive? When I say I got thrown into the writing pit after yesterday’s chapter, I mean I was *slammed* against the wall, not the first and certainly not the last time either. So, it is a rewrite of two scenes in particular, with my own twist and added touches cause I couldn’t help myself :D

Special thanks to my friend @strawberrwess for coming up with a line in here and letting me use it <3

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471001

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie

Enjoy! <3

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

The administrative office is strangely empty and quiet when they enter, the artificial lighting making the white of the walls and furniture even brighter. After making sure that they were alone, twice, for the good measure, Claire strode towards the desk, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the screen. It was unlocked, there for the taking

“Is it bad that I was expecting that to be the case? Amateurs.” she muttered under her breath, causing Ethan to let out a laugh that he had to stifle. Claire sat down on the chair, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard, her eyes scanning the information before her. Ethan walked over to her side, putting his hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Let me, I’m more familiar with their system.” He spoke gently, their eyes locking for a brief moment when she stood up to make space for him, their faces in close proximity long enough for his thoughts to get swarmed with all kinds of images that threatened to overwhelm him and make him throw all this inhibitions to the wind and just reach for her.

Claire moved to the door, leaning against the frame, watching the hallway for anyone that might sink their mission. Meanwhile, Ethan took the seat and got to work. He combed through the files, looking for the name of the senator, but it proved to be more work than he anticipated, for his eyes kept straying to Claire. She was keeping guard, but more often than not, he felt her gaze on him, and found it incredibly distracting.

“Is there something on your mind, Claire?” he smirked, directing his attention back to the task at hand.

“I like looking at fine things, Ethan. That’s all.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking back towards the corridor. “So how often do you come here?”

“Very occasionally. I’m consulting on a research project with an immunologist which requires me to come by a few times a year, but I largely try to avoid the place.” Ethan answered offhandedly, his tone neutral for the most part, sparking up only when he mentioned his research.

“Because of Tobias?” after receiving no answer from him, she carried on. “Ethan, Tobias seems to enjoy messing with you.”

“Oh, he does. He messes with everyone, I’m no exception here.” He nodded after a moment of consideration, without delving into the memories too much.

“Even when you were friends?”

“Of course. After all, we were both troublemakers. But while I was direct with challenging my authority figures, he always was a prankster.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he recalled his first med school year.

“Challenging your authority figures, huh?” Claire grinned widely, looking back outside to make sure they were safe before walking towards him. “Do you mind me challenging you, Dr. Ramsey?”

“No, as long as I get to challenge you too, Dr. Herondale, I don’t.” he looked up at her, electricity humming softly in the air around them. After a long, intense moment, he continued. “We had one particularly uptight professor with some… very outdated theories. Tobias swapped out his projector slides with rude drawings.”

“You draw?” she asked, surprised, laughing when he nodded.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Is there anything you can’t do? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t think I want to know. Don’t burst the bubble for me.” Claire held her hand up, looking over her shoulder to check on their situation. “What kind of ‘rude drawings’ did you do?”

“What makes you think it was me?”

“Was it not you?” her eyebrow shot up in a question. He held his breath, fighting to keep a straight face, before ultimately failing and laughing warmly. “Thought so. So, what was it?”

“Some women and men in very revealing poses.” He admitted, his cheeks reddening slightly. Claire giggled, her eyes widening a bit. Nodding her head, she brushed her hand against his shoulder.

“If you ever need a model, hit me up.”

“I’m going to pretend I understood the last part of that sentence and accept your offer. Anytime, Rookie.” He mused softly, his hand moving to brush his fingers against hers, twining them for a short moment. Wordlessly, they spent the next few seconds, reveling in the quiet comfort of each other’s closeness. Eventually, they fell back into the everyday world, him going back to searching for the senator’s name on the long list of patients while she retreated to her previous spot by the door.

“Anyway, the professor did the whole two-hour lecture without one looking back to notice why we were laughing. Me? I always preferred calling him an idiot to his face.”

“Sounds like you.” she teased him, moving her weight from one foot to the other. “It also sounds like you two were having a lot of fun together.”

All he did was hum quietly, then his attention was focused solely on the task at hand. His smile fell as he sat back in the chair, confirming what they both were afraid of. “There is no Farrugia anywhere in the hospital. Are we sure June’s tip was reliable?”

“I think so… Could he be under a pseudonym? Would a hospital allow that?” Claire’s confusion was clear on her face as she walked over to him, leaning against the desk, folding her arms over her chest.

Ethan nodded, deep in thoughts. “It’s possible. But that means we need to figure out what a senator neither of us has ever met would use as an alias.”

“But it may not have been the senator who came up with the alias at all…” she trailed off, the gears in her head turning. Letting out a deep breath, she spoke up. “Okay, what do we know about Tobias? He would have been the one to admit the senator, and it seems unlikely he’d pick a name at complete random.”

“No, almost nobody would.” He agreed, leaning forward, resting his head on his hands.

“Can you think of any name that might have popped into his head? A relative, or friend, or-“

“Dwight Theodore Lewis III.” He stated firmly, a spark in his eyes. Claire shifted in her place, turning to face him more directly.

“Who?”

A smirk lit up his face when he recalled that piece of information. “It was the name of Tobias’s fake I.D. He kept it framed on his desk as a memorial to ‘all the good times’ they shared. He used it any time he needed to avoid getting in trouble.”

“Great.” She drummed her fingers against the surface of the desk in excitement. “So is there a Dwight Theodore Somebody the Somethingth in the records?”

A few clicks later, a file popped up on the screen and Ethan turned fully towards her with a wide and satisfied grin. “Room 734. That’s in the V.I.P. wing.”

“Kenmore had a literal V.I.P. wing?”

“There’s more than one reason I despise this place.” He muttered under his breath, sharing a knowing gaze with her. He opened his mouth to say something else when the voice of a woman reached their ears, indicating she was approaching them. They both froze, uncertain what to do. Not enough time to run and nowhere to hide, about to be caught.

With no warning, Ethan reached from his seat for her, his hand grabbing the front of her scrubs, and pulled her onto him. She stumbled, her knees hitting the chair, hands grabbing onto his shoulders to keep her balance. He looked up at her, eyes locking for a brief moment, and she couldn’t find a sliver of hesitation if she tried. His hands pressed firmly against her back, pushing her onto him even more, and with one, small movement from him, his lips touched hers urgently, like he couldn’t wait a second more, like he’d combust if he had to stay away from her.

The intensity took her breath away. Her heart stopped beating, only to pick up its pace the moment it came back to life, her head spinning. She twined her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands to pull him closer, even though it was humanly impossible to do so. Their faces were as close as they could possibly be.

“Oh! Uh… Sorry!” the same female voice rang behind them, but neither noticed nor cared. Retreating footsteps were barely acknowledged, for they were far too gone. The lady closed the door to provide them privacy, making Ethan grateful, mostly because it allowed him fully sit her in his lap. He grabbed her by the hips and hauled her into the sitting position, her knees locking him down in the chair.

A soft sigh slipped past her lips when Ethan directed his kisses down her neck, moving aside his own lab coat, a bit too big and hanging loose on her body, then the material of her scrubs, to reveal the skin on her collarbone, teasing it lightly with his lips. Claire shifted on top of her, drawing a strangled groan from him.

Ethan stood up and carried her onto the desk, stepping in between her legs, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. His hands were running up and down her back, holding her in place, closely to him, while her fingers combed through his hair gently. Claire’s heels grazed against the back of his thighs briefly, preventing him from stepping away at the same time.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both out of breath and out of mind. He leaned away from her, with no enthusiasm, wanting nothing more than to dive back into her and never stop kissing her. Knowing that they both had duties to fulfil, he reluctantly moved back, though his hold on her never lessened.

“We should… We need to…” he panted as he spoke, his eyes darkened with desire. Claire nodded, grinning widely at how certain he was in all his movements.

“Room 734. Yeah.”

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

Her laughter ringed in the air as her and Baz ran out of the hospital through the main entrance, not daring to look back and see if Tobias was still following them. Just then, ever the savior, Ethan pulls up in front of them, slamming the brakes. He called out through the open window.

“Need a ride?” unsurprisingly, he was incredibly smug about it. Baz laughed, throwing himself towards the back seat.

“This is just like a movie!”

“My hero.” Claire giggled, opening and closing the door to the passenger’s seat hastily. She turned her head towards the building, just in time to see Tobias bursting out of the entrance. “Ethan, hit it!”

His foot slammed on the accelerator, the car speeding away, leaving Tobias far behind them. Looking back at his form that was getting smaller and smaller, she noticed his amused smirk. “Looks like this round goes to Edenbrook.”

She then turned back around, letting out a relieved laugh as her forehead fell against Ethan’s shoulder. He looked at her briefly, a soft smile lighting up his face. Claire leaned back into her seat a moment later, her breathing evening out.

“So, did our plan work?” he asked, relaxing when the tension left him.

“Like a charm. We should be expecting the senator to join us in the hospital soon.” She grinned, her heartbeat picking up when Ethan looked at her again, his eyes softening.

The silence was comfortable, a striking contrast to the adrenaline-driven events that took place just minutes ago. Ethan kept stealing glances at Claire, Claire kept on brushing her fingers against his, seemingly by accident.

“You two can hold hands, you know?” Baz’s voice rang from the backseat, causing them to freeze in their movements.

“We don’t-“

“Why would you-“

“Oh, come on. You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried. Both of you are flushed, your lips are bruised, not that I have any idea or want to know when you two found the time to make out on a mission. So, please.” He laid it all out for them, then leaned forward, grabbing their hands and joining them firmly. “Commit to it, dammit.”

Ethan fought the overwhelming smile, tried to bite it down, but ultimately failed and just accepted it, his fingers tangling with hers. Claire nodded, catching Baz’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He winked at her knowingly, then sat back in his seat with a satisfied smile.

[docholligay]

For the rewrite: You get to rewrite D-Point/S1 finale but in a way that it could still fit into where the rest of the series goes and R could start as normal. How would you do it?

UGH. So basically I have to keep the weird false divide between inners and outers. FURI YOU LOATHE ME. This is obviously only part of it, as, uh, I am long-winded and love a bit of drama, but 1800 words. please enjoy

The wind whirled grey across that empty arctic plain. Well, not quite empty. If rei had been turned another direction, she would have seen Ami’s body, perched on a mound of ice, there in the far background from where Mina had dragged them both away from the scene, as if her own element were constructing a tomb to her. She knew without seeing that Ami would be dressed in that loose grey sweater and awkward green skirt that came down to her calves, a pair of loafers on her feet. It was what she had been wearing last time they’d transformed. The uniform leaves, when a senshi dies. 

She’d found that out with Mako. 

Rei hadn’t seen Ami die. She hadn’t needed to. It had, like she’d said, afforded Rei and Mina the time to move forward along that plain, trying to find the place where they could enter the lair where Beryl was said to sit, on this desolate patch of earth that might have been beautiful, thousands of years ago, when it was the seat of power for the earth, but now was as lifeless as everything else behind them. 

Mina’s nose was in the air, as if she could smell anything but the bright cold of the wind. As if she could hear anything but that howling which might have been the same wind, but just as likely might have been Usagi. It could have been Rei’s own soul, too, she supposed. 

She wanted to melt all of it. She wanted to take her arms off from around Usagi, put her hands together, and bring it all to dirt. How foolish they would be, bringing a fire maiden to the ice, not knowing what sort of powers she contained. She was the ace in the hole, she knew. She was the strongest one, here, if her pride did not allow her to remember that might not be true everywhere. 

MIna stepped back from her lookout and glanced over to Rei and Usagi. “Sailor Moon. Princess.” Usagi looked up at her, tears half-frozen on her cheeks, “We have to keep going. If we stay here, they’ll find us straightaway.” 

Rei wanted to protest, but only in the way that she wanted the girl before her to be Mina and not Venus. She had never mastered that in the same way Mina had, to be two people in one body. She was always Rei, and Mars was only ever Rei with the fire at her fingertips instead of her heart. Mina was warm and bright, if a bit annoying--a neon light, flashing in the cool darkness--but Venus was sheer steel, cold and unrelenting. 

Usagi began wailing. 

“But, but--” she took a deep breath, and coughed against the cold, “Am--” 

“Sailor Mercury did her duty. It would be worst disrespect to her death not to do ours.” She looped the chain at her waist, tightening it as she went to move forward. “It’s getting closer to the surface, over that way.” 

Rei hadn’t known Mina very long, as a practical matter. It was only recently that Rei had come to see her as anything other than a usurper, strolling into the group and declaring herself the military commander of the entire operation. Luna had said nothing to disagree, simply called her Commander Venus as Rei glared. 

“I am the commander,” Mina had sipped at her tea, eyes sparking in the way they often did when she and Rei were alone, something that tugged onto Rei and made her keep looking. She blamed the moon. “But you are the personal bodyguard. You are the last one standing, because that’s your job.” 

“Who decided that anyway?” Rei had scowled across the table, Mina leaning toward her, those clever eyes searching her too deeply, “You? You just think you can show up and--” 

She’d laughed. “Oh, I don’t decide anything.” She looked up out the window to the sky. “This is so far beyond you and me.” 

Rei went to protest that it didn’t have to be that way, that nothing was beyond her exactly, but Mina never gave her the opportunity. 

“Don’t you want to protect Usagi?” MIna had come just a little closer to her, and she could smell that near-syrup sweetness, like peaches in a can, “Can’t you feel that you should? Why do you think that is.” 

“That’s different.” Rei said, both then and now, Mina and Usagi both looking at her suddenly. 

“What is?” Mina had her hands on her hips. 

Rei shook her head, but did not remove her arms from Usagi’s side. “Let’s go.” 

The terrain was not so flat as it looked, and Usagi stumbled as she cried, protesting that Rei and Mina didn’t care about their friends, neither of them rising to the occasion. Even now, Usagi did not seem to realize that this was it. This was the grand battle for which they had been reborn, this was the one they had to win. Every battle leading up to this had only ever been dress rehearsal. 

It was not Ami and Mako at risk, but the world entire. 

Mina stopped, putting her hand on Rei’s chest to pause her, but flashing her a grin that was beyond Venus as she did so. There was a glow in the earth, here, just barely, if you looked beyond the snow. Anyone else might have walked past it, might have stepped over it, but Mina put her hand down onto it, and it pulsed beneath her hand. 

There was a rumble, and a crack, and Mina pushed them both back, grabbing to the chain at her side and beginning to swing. Usagi whimpered, again, and Mina turned back to the two of them, chain still gliding in golden figure eight over her head, as if it were a crown all her own. 

“You have to go.” Mina’s eyes looked greyer, somehow, in this light, “Take her and head for the point on the far horizon. You have to get her there, Mars.” 

Usagi tried to pull away from Rei’s heat, to no avail. 

“Venus! We can’t leave you!” She began to cry again, her whimpering cry mixing with that same cold wind and drilling into Rei’s ears. “You can’t die too!”

“No,” she shook her head, “you can’t die, Princess. You’re the key. You’ve always been the key.” 

Rei saw, in that moment, that it was never going to be otherwise. This was always how it ended. It was always Mars, bow on her back, taking the princess where she needed to be. Even if they won. Even if they failed. She was always the last one standing, always the final line of defense, and it was always her fire that protected the princess. The fire hadn’t shown her that before. It had never been close enough to see by its light. 

Before Usagi could say otherwise, the ground burst open, and two of the youma guards popped out, mouths wide with delight and fury as they careened toward the three. MIna’s chain curved in a broad arc in the air, and came down, wrapping around a youma’s arm, twisting it back as she drew the chain in. But the other youma was fast approaching, and Mina was forced to step back, hurtling one youma into the other with a fierce swing of the chain. 

She turned her head. 

“Go!” 

Rei stammered for a moment, unsure in a way that felt wrong and less stable than the crust of snow beneath her feet. But what about you? She wanted to say. If we leave you, you’ll die, and she saw Mina leaning over the table again, and she felt her body close in, and she could barely draw a breath at this moment, everything that might have been burning in the fire of what was to be. 

Mina whipped the chain over her, moving deftly as she looped in around her neck and rerouted it, sparking one and then the other with its tip, blood beginning to tear from the two of them. Her violence was poetry, Rei thought, the chain her pen. She was nothing like the rest of them, stronger than Ami, more elegant than Mako, and, though she would only ever allow this in though, perhaps more clever than Rei herself. She was a creature created for this moment, a valkyrie of the long odds. 

They staggered back, weapons drawn, unsure of how to handle this unusual weapon. 

Mina looked back, blonde hair whipping in the wind, eyes narrowed. 

“Go or I will kill you myself.” 

Rei nodded, in that, the first command from Mina for which she had no moment to question or balk, and for which she felt no drive to do so. She took Usagi by the shoulders, her cries fading into the background against the shoosh of Mina’s chain. 

As Rei started to move away, the youmas rushed at Mina, trying to flank her from the sides, but Mina was too quick and too studied, whipping the chain around her and knelling to the ground, catching them both with the end of it, howls as they furiously took another blow before they could turn to run, but un they did, escaping back down the hole in the ice. 

“Have to go after them, unsettle the place.” MIna grinned back to Rei, and blew a kiss. “Think of me, fireball.” 

Rei hated the nickname instantly. Rei hoped she would say it again. But she became Venus again. 

“Princess. Your duty to the world is at hand. Do it.” 

She did not wait for a reply, simply whipped the chain above her and disappeared down the hole. As Rei dragged Usagi away, still crying and screaming, Rei fought back tears of her own, hearing the fighting below them, hearing the thunderous roar of the troops coming to aid, knowing that Mina would die down there, bloody and bruised, her body broken in a horrible, dark, cold cave at the end of nowhere. 

There was the entrance up ahead. Mina was right, they were scattered, they assumed the senshi had all entered together, they had not thought of it as Mina had, as Venus always would, and now was their moment. 

“CRESCENT!!! BEAM!!!!” She heard echoing on the tundra behind her, and then there was a grand explosion, the tearing and rending of the earth behind them, and Rei and Usagi looked back to see a golden crest in the sky, rocks and dirt and snow flying from where she had blown apart the tunnel she was in, a sudden still silence filling the air, a fine red mist settling into perfect ruby snowflakes into that same wind, and whispering out toward she and Usagi. 

Usagi screamed. It might have been Mina’s name, or Venus’, but it was a tuneless thing and might have been neither of them at all. 

Onward. Make it worth it. 

She grabbed Usagi’s arm, and pulled.