#you all just keep proving time and time again how dense in the head you all are

[my-writings-and-musings]

Transformers ROTB

Mirage x Reader

(Hurt/Comfort)

It's a billion degrees here so thinking is hard and I've been imagining cold... This fic of Mirage keeper reader warm after a snowy rescue was born. As the last fic proves, I just love writing Mirage cuddles, and can you blame me?

Look at him. Absolute cuddlebug. Has to be.

---

Everything was cold and aching when you came to, but considering you'd expected not to wake up at all, you could tentatively call that a win. Too exhausted and pained to shiver, you cracked your eyes open as sounds finally drifted into focus. A blue figure moved through the darkness with curses of frantic frustration, their inhumanly large frame bent over a pile of damp wood they were having no luck lighting. Recognizing their familiar shade of blue in the brief flashes of light from their attempted fire, you perked up despite your exhaustion.

"Mirage?"

The mech snapped his helm around, optics wider than you'd ever seen them as he looked at you in total disbelief.

"Hey, you're not dead!" he gushed as he crawled across the cave, looking so overjoyed he must not have believed you'd ever speak again. Too worn out and stiff to chuckle, you managed to crack a smile as the mech leaned over you, seemingly drinking in your presence as if he hadn't seen you in ages. Not having the slightest clue how you'd gotten here, you found your head free of worry despite your injuries, and you couldn't resist the urge to crack a joke.

"Should I be?"

"No, definitely not! Don't you go getting any ideas!" Mirage replied, his tone a solid mix of playful admonishment and serious warning. Adjusting a small emergency blanket that you'd been loosely swaddled in, he fretted long enough for you to pick up on his worry despite the continued jokes. "I've busted my aft keeping you alive this long, you don't get to put all my hard work to waste."

"What happened?" you asked as you tried to hug the blanket closer, numb fingers making it nearly impossible. Confused but able to recall a blurry series of events, the lack of other Autobots stuck out to you, especially when you remembered the whole group had been together in battle the last time you'd seen them. Not seeing a single other being in the cave activated your worry. "Where's-?"

"Shhh, questions take stamina you can't spare. I'll do the talking for both of us." Mirage interrupted gently, still teasing but sounding much softer as he encouraged you to lie back. The warmth of his servo and the comfort of his much larger frame beside yours allowed you to relax and listen, but as you did so It became apparent you were still quite exhausted, and you had to fight the urge to sleep. A fascinating narrative made consciousness stick around despite your heavy eyelids. "It took some expert tracking, but Bee was able to find two sets of tracks; a big ugly bot and the human he was tearing after. Unfortunately enough for him, we found him first."

Now you could remember how you'd gotten into this mess; running from a Decepticon and trying to lose them in the dense, frozen forest... The last thing you'd seen of Mirage had been the main battle, and you couldn't even begin to recall how long you'd been out in the cold, but it was good to know everything had more or less worked out. If only you weren't so terribly cold...

"I don't know how you outran him, but you were sorta... asleep and awake when we found you, so cold you weren't even shivering. We called Noah, and he's arranging to meet Optimus somewhere "clandestine" and escort a medic this way. They're gonna look you over and then pretend they didn't see us." Mirage continued. Nodding in incomplete understanding, you tried to keep your eyes open, and would have yawned if you'd had the strength. You knew what was being said meant a lot to you, and that a doctor was very much in order, but it all felt so far away. Aching body going increasingly numb, you barely found the strength to reply.

"Thank you..." you croaked, so terribly tired you couldn't convince yourself that staying awake was worth it. Mirage reacted swiftly, cupping his hand behind your head and looking into your eyes. The fear in his optics made you yearn for the energy to comfort him, but as it was you couldn't even understand why he was so upset.

"Don't thank me, just stay awake, yeah?" he encouraged, positive facade crumbling as he scooped you up in a panic. Feeling his chest, which radiated a reduced but still appreciable amount of warmth, you sighed and leaned into his embrace. The speedster held you tightly against him, digits patting your cheek as he tried to get you to focus on him. "Talk to me, Y/N, tell me what I can do."

"Cold..." was all you could say, exhaustion all but dragging you down into unconsciousness. Only your desire not to upset him kept you awake, but you knew there was precious little fight left in you. Mirage frantically reached back to the damp wood he'd been attempting to dry and ignite with his blaster.

"Okay, okay... I can... Scrap, I can't get this to light!" he cried in briefly hopeless frustration, his servo transforming back into a limb so he could hold you close to share what little warmth he had to spare. The pain in his expression compelled you to comfort him, but you didn't have the strength to do anything but lay your hand on the glowing center of his chest. You only wanted him to know it was alright, but the mech took much more from the gesture, his optics widening before his brows furrowed in determination. "Plan B then; come here."

Snapping open his chest panels and revealing the beautiful yet surprisingly soft glow of his spark, he pulled you close, allowing you to practically snuggle against the heat generating essence of his being.

"Sorry if this is weird... but it's warm, right?" he said quickly, aware of the awkward intimacy even if the situation was desperate. Being held so close allowed you to finally thaw after hours of exposure, and the feeling of life returning to your limbs was soothing enough to compel you to sigh. Cradling you tightly against his spark, Mirage sat back against the cave wall and relaxed at your increasingly less pallid complexion, returning to a more playful tone filled with affection. "My spark always runs hot, part of being an Outlier. I'll keep you close until the doc gets here. Least I can do for my little space heater."

Smiling back at the joke, you sighed once more and touched your hand to his spark, able to feel the soft hum soothing your aching body. As much as you still yearned for sleep, being so close gave you the strength to stay awake a little longer, the growing ease in his frame compelling you to keep going for both your sakes. A tender cupping of your face helped make you all the more certain that everything was going to be alright.

Mirage continued to encourage you, the devotion in his spark more than warm enough to keep the dark, frigid cold of the cave at bay. "You just keep getting nice and toasty. I've got you..."

[spikedfearn]

I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Chapter I

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: After being transferred to another sector of Jackson's Star you reluctantly befriend a ragtag group of people with the exception of one cocky asshole who knows just how to get under your skin.

On the surface, you hate each other, but after experiencing a particularly harrowing event together, the two of you grow closer than anyone else could ever imagine.

a/n: a few things to note: 1. I expanded the colony’s population from 2781 inhabitants to just under 20,000 for the different sectors to make sense/work. 2. Jackson’s Star remains a mining colony but it’s set up to be a little bit closer to a dystopian society so I can play around with different settings

warnings/tags: secret friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol/drug use, sexual themes, non-linear narrative, trauma bonding, more tags to be added

wc: 2.6k

Masterlist Next Chapter

It's incredibly warm tonight.

Made warmer by the fire burning in the rusted out steel drum in front of you and the others sitting around it, a glass beer bottle held loosely in your grip keeping your palm cool, the condensation clinging to it feeling nice against your skin.

The sizzling pop of the kindling wood has you distracted, tracking the embers trailing off the flames dancing in the stifled air, smoke feeding up into the dense cloud cover overhead.

It's become a tradition of sorts. Drinking around a bonfire in the rock quarry with the people you've grown fond of, far and away from the other colonists residing in sector six, all flocking to the bars to take the edge off after another rough work week.

Well—with the exception of one cocksure asshole.

You can't help but look over as your thoughts wander to him, watching as said asshole takes another long swig of his beer, eyes drawn down to the prominent bob of his Adam's apple then up to his tongue, poking out to lick over his lips and mop up any stray drops.

Laughter breaks out around you in response to a joke Tyler cracks, not that you hear any of it, too busy quietly simmering in your lawn chair. He hasn't even done anything so far tonight, still—you know it's only a matter of time before something erupts between the two of you, something always erupts between the two of you.

Sure enough, he catches you staring before you have the chance to look the other way, his features rearranging into something familiar, something smug, eyes alight with the fire your chairs are circled around and a particularly annoying brand of haughtiness he carries himself with.

Your fingers tighten around the bottle, already knowing what's about to happen. Just when you thought you could get through one night without him royally pissing you off, he proves otherwise. He's as predictable as he is frustrating.

“Take a picture love, it'll last longer,” he smirks, the stupid kiss he blows in your direction and the cocky little tilt of his head causing anger to flare through you as a result.

“How do you manage to get around with your head shoved so far up your own ass,” you bite, cutting through the good natured chatter around you, everyone groaning their displeasure in response.

They've gotten used to it, you and Bjorn being constantly at each other's throats whenever you're forced to interact through hangouts with your mutual group of friends. You don't know how they put up with him, even if he is family with half the people here, you've known him for just shy of six months and you wanna throttle him every time he opens his big fucking mouth.

You hear Navarro mutter something like, “god, here we go again,” under her breath, already sounding exasperated by your increasingly heated exchange. They all are, having put up with it since the night the two of you first met, when he said something stupid and snotty enough to make you bite his head off in front of everyone, setting the tone for your dynamic going forward.

“If you wanna sit on it you just hafta’ ask nicely, princess,” he says, words punctuated by an arrogant chuckle, canines gleaming broadly in the concentrated light.

"How about I chop it off instead, hmm? Do the world a favor and stop you from procreating?"

"Then you'd have nothing to drool over, now would you?" He fires back, running the flat of his tongue over his teeth.

“You know what,” you announce, feeling your blood begin to boil just beneath the surface, draining the rest of your beer before tossing it into the bushes with the others, “I think I'm gonna call it a night.”

It's not worth it, getting into it with Bjorn for the umpteenth time. It's been another rough week for everyone down in the mines, hands cracked and calloused, a residual cough still clogging all your diaphragms from inhaling the fumes permeating through the underground tunnel system.

That and you don't want to be liable for ruining everyone else's good time with your petty grudge, no matter how justified you might feel.

Besides—it's pointless, talking to Bjorn, your conversations (if you can call them that) are never constructive, typically involve him saying something intentionally rude or brash that has you exploding in anger, like it's his entire aim to piss you off.

Kay tugs lightly on your wrist in an attempt to convince you to sit back down and stay for just a little longer but the night’s been soured and your mind already made.

So you wish everyone apart from Bjorn to have a good rest of their night before swiftly turning around and leaving the quarry, the voices of your friends fading away in the shortly crossed distance, hearing Tyler reprimand his cousin for being “a right knob.”

They've all tried playing mediator at one point or another, hoping to get to the root of the problem, because that's what they're all good at, what they've been trained to do since they were big enough to harness a mining drill, to excavate all paths for valuable material.

And you appreciate their concern, you really do, having almost forgotten what that felt like—having someone care, but there isn't anything deeper to it, your mutual hostility for one another, Bjorn’s just an asshole and you don't tolerate anyone's bullshit.

Nothing more, nothing less.

You hear the rapid crunch of gravel approaching behind you, looking over your shoulder to see Kay jogging to catch up with you. You cease walking, allowing her to reach you, a buzz circulating through your veins.

“Hey,” Kay greets, a little breathless, coming to a halt once she's standing right in front of you, baby bump prominent beneath the overalls she's wearing, “don't let my asshole cousin get to you.”

“Too late,” you snort, sufficiently bothered by everything that's occurred over the last twenty minutes. You can't help it, how quick to anger you are when it comes to him, he just has this way of getting under your skin in a way no else can.

“I still don't get how you and Tyler are related to him. You're both so sweet and Bjorn is—Bjorn.”

She echoes your snort, eyes drifting back towards the bonfire, glowing like the lit end of a cigarette from this far away, “I know I know, trust me. He can be a bit…abrasive.”

You're powerless to stop the scoff that leaves you, gaze following Kay’s, "a bit?"

“Okay, he's really abrasive, but he means well. Usually.”

Maybe it's out of familial obligation that Kay—and to a greater extent Tyler, feel the need to excuse Bjorn’s shitty behavior, but it's really starting to wear on you.

“Does he? Because I sure as fuck don't feel that way. I think he just gets off on being a massive dickhead and I'm the only one who’ll call him out on it.”

Kay reaches out to you, letting her take hold of your hand, giving it a light squeeze, “I get it, I do. It's just—Bjorn’s been through a lot and keeping people at arm’s length is how he copes with everything. He's not all bad.”

You hate that she's right. He isn't all bad. You've witnessed it, how tender he can be with the people he cares about most, how protective he is of them. Like picking up Tyler's obligatory shifts when he came down with a bad case of the flu or getting into bar fights whenever some rando makes an unwanted pass at Rain or Kay or how he naturally steps into the big brother role even though he's younger than Navarro.

But the thing is—“we've all been through a lot.”

It’s true. You've all been born into the same shitty circumstances, forced to work in the mines until you inevitably die from black lung or some other variant of respiratory disease, that is if a mining collapse doesn't kill you first.

“We have,” Kay agrees, coughing into the crease of her elbow as if to prove your point, “all of us. But I think you two especially, and that's why you guys butt heads all the time. You're both super alike.”

“That's a really, really low blow,” you remark dryly, your eyes finding Kay’s again.

“No, I'm serious,” she laughs, her giggles tapering off into a small, winded smile. "You both have your walls up and you're both stubborn as fuck," parroting your earlier emphasis.

Which is also frustratingly true. You know everyone's story, all having opened up to you over time, as they integrated you into their little patchwork family.

Although—most of them can't say the same about you, having buried most of your trauma way down deep, further than any of them could reach. They know you don't have a family, that you've spent most of your life alone prior to your transfer but that's the extent of it, all you've been willing to share.

And they never push for more, letting you divulge personal information at your own pace, no matter how limited or vague it is, something you're immensely grateful for, more than they could ever know. It's a big reason why you've allowed yourself to get close to them despite your trepidation, forging emotional attachments even after promising yourself you never would again.

“You're right,” you concede, rolling your eyes playfully when Kay hums back, “always am.”

“Listen. I’ll do my best not to let him get to me—next time, but I really am tired, tired and sore, so. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” she affirms, squeezing your hand one last time before letting you go, cautioning you to “be safe!” as you resume walking.

The streets are empty as you move through them, navigating your way back to your shoebox of an apartment, half the streetlights lining the residential sidewalks flickering or out entirely. Which isn't unusual, like the higher-ups governing Jackson's Star would ever care for the upkeep of anything outside the mines.

Trudging through the door and relocking it behind you, you make your way down the tiny corridor leading into your bedroom, shoulders sagging in relief.

It's the only place you can ever truly relax, always looking forward to being able to pop some sleeping pills before crawling into bed immediately after, a short reprieve—the only reprieve—from the grueling sixteen hour work days you're subjected to.

You unscrew the cap on the pill bottle left on the nightstand by your bed and dry swallow two of them, too lazy and too tired to grab a glass of water in the little kitchenette in the next room over.

Thank god you have tomorrow off, planning to sleep in till noon if you're able to, what with your internal body clock having grown incredibly accustomed to getting up at the same time the other six days of the week.

You look out the sole window in your room, blinds drawn wide, everything around you bathed in red from the neighboring neon ‘BAR’ sign bleeding in through the glass because of it. It's strangely comforting in its familiarity, like a beacon of light welcoming you back every time you return, a reminder that you're still here, still breathing.

The window is small and high up enough that you're not concerned about anyone seeing you undress, grabbing at the hem of your thin cotton t-shirt to drag it up over your head before removing your hair tie next, slightly shaking your hair out with your fingers.

Maybe it's the exhaustion coupled with the drone of the generator funneling power into your apartment but you miss the sound of your door opening and the footsteps that move down the hall toward you.

It's not until you're pulling the metal prong of your belt buckle out of the last notch that you hear a low whistle, causing you to jump, shoulders curling inwards to try and cover yourself up, one of your bra straps falling down your arm.

“Well don't stop on account o’ me babes.”

Your eyes narrow seeing him leaning in your doorway, arms crossed over his chest with the sole of one boot planted against the doorframe, emphasizing the toned muscle hiding under his loose work shirt.

“I knew I'd regret giving you my door code.”

Bjorn chuckles back, that cocky little head tilt returning, “but then I'd miss out on this lovely little strip-tease.”

You feel your face grow warm in response, grateful for the red bar lighting masking your blush. “What are you doing here anyways? The others are gonna start noticing if we're always disappearing around the same time.”

“Relax,” he says, crossing the room to reach you, hands coming up to latch onto your shoulders while his thumbs press in between your shoulder blades, rubbing tight circles into your skin to loosen the tension gathered there, “everyone called it a night after ya’ little hissy fit.”

A scowl etches itself onto your face, though you do nothing to stop him from massaging your shoulders, “shut up, I'm still mad at you.”

“Hmm, are ya’ now?” He asks, leaning in close, until his plush lips are brushing your ear, “is that why you wuz giving me them fuck me eyes, love? All I said was ya’ just needa ask nicely.”

“That's what I'm talking about! You're making it too obvious. The last thing I want is everyone else finding out about this. About us.”

It's still relatively new, hooking up with Bjorn behind everyone's back, a recent development that's entirely altered the course of your dynamic.

He still goes out of his way to piss you off whenever he can, but there's something more there now, a teasing edge that implies an inside joke only the two of you are in on.

And, despite knowing the others wouldn't care, you want it to stay that way. After all, this thing you two have going on now, whatever it is, is casual. Meaningless. You see no point in telling them about something that'll most likely run its course soon, once you've gotten the overwhelming urge to touch each other out of your systems, whenever that'll be.

“And why’s tha?’” He whispers, drawing a fingertip over your stomach, from the elastic of your underwear up to your navel, causing you to shudder on reflex. “Embarrassed they'll know I don't jus’ get under your skin but inta ya’ pants too?”

“You're such a jackass,” you groan, feeling the solid mass of his body press up against you, his growing excitement poking you in the back. As you suspected, that's why he's here.

“Keep talkin’ dirty ta’ me babes,” he jokes, kissing a line down your neck, his fingers grabbing your chin to cock your head to one side, giving him more ground to cover, stubble scratching over your skin.

A soft moan escapes your lips, going pliant in his hands, Bjorn having mapped out all the sensitive spots that leave you weak-kneed and trembling, weaponizing his intel every chance he gets.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, letting him slide his hand down under the denim of your jeans, still in disbelief as to how you got here. Not that you would ever forget, the memory of that night still fresh in your mind.

[dracopias-bloodbag]

Bewitched By Bloodlust | Dracopia x F! Reader

Chapter I: You'd Never Want Me To Appear

As a witch you have a duty to protect your coven, the very sisterhood that raised you. When the High Priestess tells you of a prophecy that sees the downfall of the coven as you know it approaching, you're willing to do whatever it takes to stop it. You're surprised to find out that her visions show the leader of the local Satanic Ministry at the center of it all. You're more surprised to learn that he's a vampire; and you can't help but be disgusted at the thought of a creature like him being blindly worshipped by so many innocent people. The task of slaying said vampire is bestowed upon you, and you're more than happy to take on the challenge. You've waited your whole life for an opportunity like this– for a chance to prove yourself to your coven. But what happens when that opportunity is ripped from your grasp along with your freedom, and is replaced instead by mismatched eyes you just can't get out of your head?

chapter content: 3.6k words. 18+ only, enemies to lovers, slow(ish) burn, dark romance but not anything crazy, eventual smut, slight dubcon, blood, blood drinking (duh), kidnapping, canon divergent (ghost is not a band, but the ministry still runs and operates as a functioning church), time period is undisclosed romantic era, leaning towards the victorian era

Recommended Listening:

Witch Image — Ghost

Masterlist ☽𖤐☾ Read on Ao3

The frigid night air seems to wrap itself around you, making your lungs burn as your breaths come in short, shallow bursts. If it wasn’t so cold you might even feel like you’re being suffocated as you try desperately to quiet your mind. The moonlight is the only thing illuminating your path aside from the oil lantern clutched in your shaking palm. Your other hand remains wrapped around the leather reins of your horse, gripping them tighter than usual. Clicking your tongue and tapping your heels against his sides, you gently urge the animal forward through the foggy woods. He nickers softly in response as his ears swivel back and forth, and you just know he senses your unease.

“It’s okay, we’re okay… you can do this.” You’re not entirely sure if you’re reassuring yourself or your horse, but regardless you press on trying to ignore the pit in your stomach that only seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Keep going, keep moving. You can do this… you can do this.

The words repeat in your head over and over again, but whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, the truth is you don’t know if you can do this. Your coven spent so long training you, ensuring you were ready and making sure you understood just how important your mission was. The prophecy had scared them, it scared you; and the reward they offered you if you succeeded was too great to pass up. Yet a part of you still feels ill-prepared, like maybe you are the wrong person to carry out this task– like maybe they had made a mistake.

You lift your lantern, holding it out in front of you as you try to peer through the trees, but the fog is too dense for you to see much of anything. You take a shuddering breath before glancing down at your compass.

“Travel five miles due north on horseback. Then when you’re close enough, go in on foot. Sneak into the abbey, find his quarters, then take this silver dagger and end him.”

The anxiety in your stomach threatens to boil over at the memory of the High Priestess’ words. The instructions were straightforward, almost too straightforward, as if it would be an easy task. Yet something in your gut tells you it won’t be, and at that thought your fingers find the dagger on your belt, as if trying to reassure yourself. Slowly they trail upwards to the matching silver pentacle pendant that hangs from your neck.

“This talisman will protect you. The pure silver will burn him if he touches it. So long as it is around your neck, he will not be able to bite you. You will make it out alive.”

You damn near tug the pendant off as you jump at the sound of a tree branch snapping behind you. 

You whip your head around and thrust the lantern forward as you look around wide-eyed, before your eyes land on the culprit. A barn owl chirps before swooping down to a nearby bush, talons outstretched, no doubt chasing a rat of some kind. You breathe a sigh of relief as you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heartbeat thundering wildly under your ribcage.

No vampires, just owls. No ghouls. Just rats.

You continue making your way through the forest, the chill of the night air turns your cheeks rosy and makes your eyes water. You eventually stop your horse at a stream, allowing him to take a drink while you pull out your map and trace your finger over the weathered paper as you try to figure out where you are.

Your eyes flicker between your compass and the map, and you whip your head up, looking around as you realize that you’re less than a mile from the abbey.

Less than a mile and still no ghouls? 

You had expected to run into at least one patrolling the area. But the forest is still and quiet aside from the usual sounds of the night. There were no signs of life aside from the chirping crickets in the bushes and the owls in the trees.

“C’mon boy,” You pat your horse’s neck, your fingers gently stroking over his black coat to encourage him. “Let’s get this over with.”

You guide him across the stream, through thick brush, under the looming trees, and it's not even five minutes later when you spot the steeple of the abbey in the distance. Taking a shuddering breath you try to harden your resolve.

That’s when you hear it… a low growl coming from the treeline to your right. Your horse reacts almost instantly, anxiously shifting and tossing his head. You pull back on the reins, trying to get him to stop.

Chill out, chill out, chill the fuck out, you’ll only make it worse. You tell yourself.

You shove your lantern forward again, your eyes narrowed as you attempt to glare through the thick brush.

“Who’s there?” Fuck, you meant it to sound confident– but your voice cracks– a dead giveaway to how you truly feel. Petrified– like a child that’s terrified of the imaginary monster in their closet.

Only as you hear a snap from your other side, the devastating realization that this is no figment of your imagination washes over you. You whirl around and peer through the darkness, and then you see it.

One of his ghouls is staring straight at you, looking as if it’s ready to pounce.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, your instincts kicking in, sending your horse flying forward. You race through the forest, your heart pounding as you tuck your body close to his back as you try to avoid getting whipped in the face by tree branches. He soars over a fallen log, and whips around a tree trunk, before you spot the break in the trees.

The worn leather of the reins digs into your palm as you pull on them, turning your horse as you aim for the opening, but just as you think you’re home free– you see him.

And may the Goddess help you he truly is a sight to behold. Your breath hitches in your throat, both out of paralyzing fear and pure fucking awe. Gritting your teeth, everything seems to move in slow motion as he emerges from the trees on his own steed. If it wasn’t for your current circumstances, you might have time to laugh at the irony of the stark contrast of his pale white horse to the obsidian colored one you were mounted on– mirroring his darkness disguised as light, while your own righteous duty could be perceived as dark and taboo.

His face is painted with the signature skull paint you had heard tales of, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. One a bright crimson red while the other is such a bright white you could almost swear it glows. His hair is slicked back and you can’t help but notice the way it’s graying at his temples. A few strands fall in his face, giving him a disheveled look that makes your stomach flip. His black cloak billows behind him in the night air as he emerges from the darkness.

Your horse reacts then, skidding to a halt and nearly sending you flying. You manage to regain your balance, gripping his wavy mane to stop yourself from sliding off his back. The next thing you know you’re throwing your lantern down between you purely on instinct– it's the only thing you can think of to buy you time.

The glass shatters, oil and flame escaping their confines as the brush erupts in flames. Both his and your horse rear up, whinnying and kicking the ignited air with their front legs as your eyes meet his through the wall of fire separating you. The look in his eyes is one of shock, awe but most of all, rage; and you feel a chill run down your spine as you turn your stallion in the opposite direction. Your mission is long forgotten by now, and the only thing on your mind is getting the fuck out of there as fast as you can. You race through the trees you had passed before, your heart beating out of your chest.

Behind you, he dismounts from his horse before handing the reins off to one of the ghouls. He stalks around the flames, slowly, calculated. It’s as if he does not have a care in the world. Why would he? He knows that by the end of the night, you’ll be his. Even if he isn’t the one to do it, he knows his ghouls will catch you and bring you back to him; and he will take your life as easily as he has taken so many others. Even through all the chaos, through all the commotion of your scramble for escape, the only thing he can focus on is the sound of your racing heart beating against your ribcage like a terrified, caged bird.

A small smile tugs at his painted lips as his mouth waters at the sound.

Your horse leaps over the same log from earlier, whipping between the trees as you cling to his mane. You spare a glance back but everything is a blur as the sound of his hooves thunder in your ear in time with your frantic heartbeat.

A ghoul leaps out from the trees in front of you when you least expect it, and your horse rears up impossibly high. This time you’re less prepared, and you lose your balance and hit the ground with a sickening thud before the animal turns and bolts into the surrounding forest.

You cough and sputter from your place on the forest floor, the impact had knocked the wind out of you and you were struggling to suck in lungfuls of air. You claw desperately at the leaves and dirt under you as you try to pull yourself up.

You stumble to your feet as the ghoul stalks towards you, claws extended as he reaches for you.

All of your training comes rushing back to you then, and in one swift movement you catch his hand with yours. He cocks his head, surprised at your strength as you grunt with the effort and throw all your body weight against him, shoving him backward. You turn quickly as he struggles to regain his balance and kick your leg out, effectively knocking his legs out from under him. That gives you just enough time to slip away as you take off running on foot.

Shit, shit, fuck– shit!

Your boot gets caught on a tree root, causing you to stumble. You’re quick to catch yourself, your nails digging into the bark of a nearby tree as you grasp onto it for support. You gather your long skirt in your hands, trying desperately not to fall on your face.

A clawed hand digs into your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts and you yelp as this new ghoul shoves you against a tree.

The ghoul studies you carefully as his eyes flick over you, he snarls, sharp fangs revealing themselves as you wriggle under his grasp. Somehow you manage to wrench your hand out of his and grab your dagger from its place on your belt before swinging at him.

The blade leaves a thin but effective scratch across his face, and he snarls again even as he stumbles back long enough for you to make your escape. Another ghoul runs at you; but you sidestep at the last second, causing it to run headfirst into a tree.

Your breaths are ragged as you press on, running further through the trees. Whether you’re heading towards the abbey or away from it, you don’t know anymore. In your head you vaguely remember spotting your compass amongst the leafy foliage when you fell, and you mentally curse yourself for ever dropping it. You eventually shove through some thick brush and stumble into a clearing, and the sight before you makes you freeze instantly.

He is standing there as if he’s been waiting his whole life for you. He doesn’t look the least bit worried as you step into the clearing, even as the moonlight bouncing off the silver dagger in your hand catches his attention.

“You know why I’m here.” It’s a statement, rather than a question. Good, your voice was surprisingly steadier now, even though your legs felt like they might give out at any moment. 

But your heart tells another story, still trying to beat out of your chest. The sound is the only thing he can focus on, and he has to bite back a chuckle as he counts a hundred and forty-eight beats in a single minute. He can picture your veins shirking in your extremities, as your body prioritizes getting blood flowing to your most vital organs. He wonders how it will taste flowing over his lips once he finally takes that first bite, and it makes him practically growl in anticipation.

Soon. He tells himself.

“Of course, you eh… want to put that,” He waves his hand dramatically, gesturing towards your blade, before pointing at his chest. “Here.”

The way the moonlight makes his fangs gleam as he speaks makes your stomach do a somersault. You can’t help but notice how his thick accent somehow makes his words sound sweeter than they are.

“I was sent here to kill you.” You snap. 

He’s unfazed at your outburst, his white eye practically glowing in the moonlight as he studies you.

“The elders of my coven have seen an ancient prophecy, one that sees you at the center of our coven’s demise.” Your fingers feel for the silver pentacle hanging from your neck. “I am not going to let that come to fruition.”

He laughs darkly, watching you as he slowly steps forward. “And why do you think I care what a bunch of old hags think, eh? Are you vain enough to believe I care enough about what you’re doing out there to go out of my way to hunt down some lowly coven.”

You grit your teeth. “I don’t know why you’re at the center of the prophecy, but I don’t care. I won’t let you get the chance to hurt us. ”

He chuckles at that. “Well, they made a very stupid mistake sending someone like you out here. A scared little ragazza, who can barely put one foot in front of the other. If I knew any better, I’d think they wanted to get rid of you, strega.”

“You don’t know anything about them.” Your voice drips with venom as you take another step towards him.

He laughs dryly, glaring at you through narrowed eyes, and in the moonlight, you can see where the tales the elders had told you came from– why people are so fucking scared of him. The dramatic face paint contrasts those dangerous eyes of his, making them stand out against the painted black eye sockets. The lines on his cheeks accentuate his cheekbones and bring attention to the aged smile lines around his mouth. For a brief moment you wonder what this wretched creature could possibly have to smile about that would’ve caused those to form overtime.

“Then do it. Kill me.” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he slowly puts his hands up, as if in surrender.

You hesitate, everything in you is screaming that it’s a trap, but as you weigh your options your eyes land on the surrounding treeline. Spotting eight pairs of glowing eyes; you realize his ghouls have you surrounded. If it wasn’t a trap, there was no way out anyway. Kill him and they kill you to avenge their leader, let him kill you and well… that was it. Your heart practically plummets to the pit of your stomach as you realize no matter what you do now, this will be your end.

You take another shaky step forward, rotting autumn leaves crunching under your boot as your hand clutches the cool metal dagger. As you adjust and readjust your grip on the hilt nervously, your eyes flicker back to his.

He’s practically grinning as he watches you shift nervously, and that's all it takes to set you off.

You rush him, drawing your hand back as you approach, poised to strike. He doesn’t move as you approach, almost as if he welcomes death.

Only he doesn’t. 

Of fucking course he doesn’t.

At the last second he grabs your wrist, punching a gasp from your lips as you feel just how strong he is. It’s like being manhandled by a fucking brick wall as he twists your arm and uses the momentum to spin you around so your arm is pinned behind your back. You feel his other hand come up to grab your throat, and you shut your eyes, preparing to run as you expect him to pull back hissing in pain when he touches the silver chain around your neck, but then…

Fuck.

Gloves.

You gasp at the feeling of leather instead of cold skin, dropping the dagger out of pure fear as a scream tries to rise in your throat. You really were going to die.

He chuckles darkly in your ear as his fingers find your necklace, plucking it off of you with ease.

“What’s this, hm?” 

He dangles it inches from your face, chuckling as you writhe and struggle under his iron grip. 

“Did you really think that this would protect you from me, streghetta? Did you think I’d writhe in pain, giving you the chance to escape me?” His voice is low, dangerous, almost a growl as he throws it to the ground. You feel his hot breath on your neck then, and you practically whimper as you realize what’s about to happen. “Think again.”

You make one last attempt at escape, using all your strength to try and wrench yourself out of his grasp. But you can’t, and instead are faced with the harsh reality that the fucker truly is undead, superhuman strength and all.

“Shhh…” He practically purrs in your ear. “This will hurt… a lot, but it’ll be over soon. Then you can sleep for all eternity, cara.”

His fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck and you cry out in his arms. Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to fight, but every fight or flight instinct firing at the same time causes you to panic and freeze up, utterly paralyzed under his grasp.

He groans gutturally as your blood flows over his tongue and down his throat. Every single cell in his body is screaming your name without even knowing it. He wants desperately to drink you dry, to leave you broken and bloodless on the forest floor. But his senses are overloaded when he tastes how sweet your blood is. 

In all his years of immortality he had never tasted something so fucking decadent.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, your vision swimming as dizziness sets in and the world begins to spin around you. Your chest feels hot and damp, and you realize it’s your own blood running down your collarbone, past your neck, and down your chest.

He pulls away for a moment, and you feel his hot breath on your ear. The coppery smell of your blood on his breath makes you tremble violently in his arms.

“I was sent here to kill you, to stop you from ruining everything The Ministry has built… but how can I now that I have tasted how sweet you are, now that I know your blood sings to me?”

You can only whine as he latches his lips over the puncture wounds again, and the sound he makes is animalistic, and so fucking guttural that it makes your knees weak. He’s practically moaning at the taste of you, as his arm wraps around your torso, caging you more firmly against him. Your body grows heavier and weaker as you lose just enough blood to make dark spots dance across your vision. The last thing you see before losing consciousness is the stars through the trees, and for a moment, you think to yourself, this may not be such a bad way to die. Surrounded by nature, where you felt most at home, under the watchful eye of the Goddess.

It takes every ounce of self control for him to pull away from you as you pass out in his arms. As much as he wants to let greed win, he meant what he said before. He isn’t sure he can let you go now that he’s had a taste. He flicks his tongue over your wounds, as his saliva causes the blood to clot and stops the bleeding. The act is almost tender, a stark contrast to his almost violent feeding only moments before.

He stares down at your limp form in his arms, and he can’t help the growl that rises in his throat at the sight of your blood pooling on the leather of his gloves. The front of your corset is stained with the evidence of what he had done, and your skin looks a little paler than before in the moonlight, and he can’t help but think just how gorgeous you look like this. 

No, he decided. He won’t kill you tonight, you were too special, too valuable for that. Instead, he decides, he will keep you. He will tuck you away from the rest of the world. You’ll be his and only his, doomed to be his little blood bag for eternity.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

I will try my best to post updates biweekly, but if I don't keep up please have some grace, I have a full-time job and usually write whenever I have the time and energy.

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are always appreciated! ‪‪❤︎‬

Translations:

ragazza – girl strega/streghetta – witch cara - darling

Next Chapter...

[thatstonedwriter]

「 Affection Prompt 14 」

◉ Sinopsis; Standing between them and a busy road

◉ Feat; Blitz

◉ A/n- this one ended up being more of a “navigating the crowd” situation, but I hope it still fits. Enjoy!

── ˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──

"Romantic" isn't the word you'd think of while walking down the crowded streets of the Pride Ring with Blitzø. Though, you couldn’t complain, especially since you’re headed to your designated date destination!

Moxxie and Millie suggested a coffee shop for the two of you to visit, so on one of your rare days off, that’s where you decided to head. In theory, a cafe date sounds lovely. But you have to factor in a very important detail; you're hanging out with Blitz, who gets distracted way too easily.

As the two of you were walking down the street, Blitz got distracted by a window display with, you guessed it, horse-themed merchandise. He rushed to check out the display, and you attempted to keep up with him, but navigating the dense crowd proved more difficult than you’d anticipated. In no time, you were separated, and with all the people moving in different directions, pushing you around, you lost sight of the window display- and Blitz.

In his excitement, Blitz hadn’t noticed the two of you being separated. He had turned to ask your opinion on whether he should get the horse plush or the book with information on different horse breeds (even though he’d probably just keep it on the kitchen table), and that’s when he realized you were gone.

Blitz automatically assumes the worst, and his mouth goes dry. For a moment, the crowd disappears, as Blitz’s heart begins to race and he can’t breathe. What if Striker or Crimson something to do with this? Blitz has so many enemies, he should’ve known something like this could happen. Why didn’t he pay closer attention to what was going on? If this is how he lost you, Blitz would never forgive himself.

He snaps back to reality when a crowd-goer shoves him out of the way, flipping him off as they walk by. Blitz growls, pulling out his gun and shoving his way through the mass of people. To ensure no one else pulls the same stunt, Blitz uses the butt of his gun to whack anyone who gets in the way or dares to touch him.

He calls out for you repeatedly, hoping to whatever god there was that he was wrong about something horrible happening to you. And Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god, because it wasn’t long before he found you standing by a telephone pole. Blitz rushes over, checking you for any injuries before taking your hand. I mean, he just doesn’t want you to get separated again. He can swear its for the sake of convienience all he wants- Blitz just doesn’t want to admit how worried he was (and that he wanted an excuse to hold your hand).

For the rest of the day, Blitz takes the lead in navigating through the crowd; pushing through people to make a path for you, and standing closer to the street, just in case some asshole shoves you too hard. With the window display long forgotten, the two of you head to the cafe, your hands entwined.

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

[urdepressedslut]

Stray ❝part five❞

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Time has passed, things are going well. You and Bucky get along. Not always creating conversation, but appreciating each other’s company.

♡ Warnings: fluff, angst, hallucinations, reader not understanding spicy feelings

Part 6

You counted in a soft song, six hundred and fifty four, six hundred and fifty five. With a skip in your step, you were about ten steps away from the crops. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning, body fuzzy with warmth, the joy almost overwhelming.

Bucky had chosen to stay.

He probably would never understand how happy that small gesture made you. Finally not alone.

While your mind danced with thoughts of Bucky, you busied your hands, picking ingredients for lunch. Soon your bag was full, the weight heavy on your frail arm.

The sound of a twig snapping in the distance, caught your attention. Your head snapping towards the direction it came, you were met with the dense woods. The sight of greenery filling your vision. Your eyes danced around the area, the familiar feeling of paranoia creeping in. You immediately shook your head, dismissing the idea that you were being watched. Despite your heartbeat pounding in fear, you knew no one was brave enough to trek this far out.

It’s all in your head, It’s all in your head.

You mumbled to yourself in a mantra, hoping that you’d eventually believe it.

With a deep breath, you attempted to ground yourself, forcing your feet to start the trip back to the house. To Bucky. Ignoring the lingering feeling of eyes on you, you didn’t look back, keeping your gaze directed in front of you. Stepping in the flattened patches in the grass from you before.

A gentle breeze caressed your face, blowing your hair off your skin, your dress flaring behind you. Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you reveled in the cool feeling traveling down your throat. You shivered, the clamminess of your skin, drying from the wind.

It’s all in your head, It’s all in your head.

You mumbled to yourself again, letting Bucky take over your mind. Finding peace with only him in your thoughts. Mentally running your eyes over every curve, freckle, and crease on his face. Eager to see his reaction to your tasty lunch.

Well… Spolier: He loved it.

☆ 4 Months Later ☆

The summers were beginning to be unbearable, the humidity nasty, skin constantly layered with sweat. It was the first day of July, meaning it had been almost a full 4 months since Bucky decided to stay.

You and Bucky grew slightly closer within the months, to a solid point where you two considered each other friends. You both seemed to see the concept of friendship foreign, but didn’t run away from the feeling. For the most part, you kept to yourselves, occasionally eating dinner together in a comfortable silence.

You would always cook for him, making sure he had something to eat, but it was only a few moments where you ate together.

Both, you and Bucky didn’t always create conversation, instead appreciating the company that both of you brought to one another.

Within the 4 months, you couldn’t help but notice how bulky Bucky was getting. His muscles larger, him entirely just seeming thicker.

It was Bucky’s constant apologies that pushed you over the edge. No matter how many times you reassured him, that he didn’t need to help out around the house, he insisted that he feels he should do something. You weren’t going to give in so easily, but Bucky’s vulnerable moment had convinced you to come up with a job for him.

You remember Bucky’s glossy, red rimmed eyes as he tried to explain how useless he felt. His constant talk of of how he needed to prove himself.

Soon after that moment, you brainstormed ideas for what Bucky could do. Honestly, there wasn’t much to do, so you came up with something random, something to keep him busy.

You asked him to build a shed next to the house, big enough to fit a wagon. Bucky felt relieved that you’d given him a task— a job to do. Almost instantly, he felt like he had a place now.

You assumed that his back and fourth trips from the crops, where spare materials were kept, were the reason for his new physique. The heavy lifting bulking him up.

You had caught yourself a few times, staring out the window, watching the muscles in his back flex through his shirt.

You felt embarrassed every time you caught yourself gazing out the window, knowing you shouldn’t be looking at Bucky like that. You were unfamiliar with the crippling desire you started to feel. The feeling getting more intense the longer Bucky stayed. You pushed it down, assuming you were only adjusting to living with another person. But instead of the feeling fading away as time passed, it seemed to be growing deeper.

Despite your wild thoughts, life was peaceful. Both of you content with each other.

You sat in the living room, trying to read a book, but ended up staring at the wall, getting lost in your thoughts.

You were snapped out, when you heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps and heavy breathing.

Closing the forgotten book, you turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway of the living room. A layer of sweat had his skin glowing, patches of sweats showing through his navy blue shirt.

“How’s the shed coming?” You asked him, curious as to when it would be done.

“It’s getting there.” He answered.

When he responded, you couldn’t help but see the difference in his appearance versus 4 months ago.

His eyes before were dull and haunted, and even though his eyes remained slightly glum, he had a new light within them.

His shoulders, which before used to be so tensed up, body almost stone from how rigid he stood. Now he swayed from foot to foot, almost rocking himself in a comfortable motion, his body almost sagging from how relaxed he was.

His hands before, used to be clenched into fists, his nails on his flesh hand cutting crescent shaped cuts into his palm. Now his hands hung beside him, palms open and resting against his thighs. Like there was never a drop of tension in his body.

You noticed these little things about him as time passed, and you couldn’t help yourself for feeling proud of him. Though you never said it, you thought a couple times maybe you should. Not knowing if it was something he’d be wanting to hear.

“Haven’t decided what I’m going to make for dinner yet, have any ideas?” You asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment, knowing that supplies were running low. You had yet to make a trip to the store, not needing to for months with food stocked up in the basement.

“What do we have left?” He asked.

You fought down a smile at him saying we. Happy that he was starting to see this home as his own.

“I know we are getting low on some stuff, I’ll restock soon.” You told him, dreading the moment where you had to go into town. Go into public. It was always an anxiety riddled day, which is why you had only done it once.

Bucky seemed to catch on to what you were inferring.

“I can go with you, if you want.” He offered, for some reason not liking the idea of you going alone. He also didn’t want to be left alone here at the house.

“I don’t want to risk you being seen.” You argued.

“I’ll wear a disguise, I’ll be careful.” He argued back, his voice on the verge on being desperate.

“It’s too dangerous.” You tried to convince him.

Bucky on the inside was overwhelmed with warmth, you trying to protect him had him feeling fuzzy. Also the idea of tiny you trying to protect him was an adorable thought, but it was appreciated.

“How long would you be gone?” He asked, panic already welling up inside him, the idea of you leaving him terrifying.

“Not long, I’ll be quick and back before you know it.” You told him, feeling the exact same panic of being separated from him.

Bucky chewed on the inside of his lip nervously.

“And you’ll come back?” He asked quietly, his voice wavering with fear.

Your heart broke at the sound of his voice, he sounded so tiny and afraid. You felt bad that you were the one to cause his distress, but you both couldn’t survive on the stock in the basement forever.

“Buck…” You spoke softly, “Of course I’ll come back.”

He looked at you, his eyes boring into yours, almost if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. After he found only your genuine expression, he nodded shyly, lowering his gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” You spoke softly again, he looked up at you, “I’m not gonna leave you. I promise.”

You declared, wanting him to fully believe you. You’d never leave him, after he stayed for you 4 months ago. You couldn’t do that to him.

“Promise.” He whispered under his breath, almost if he were going to hold you to it. Hunt you down if you didn’t come back.

Deep down he knew you’d be back, he trusted you more than he should.

You smiled at him, watching his posture relax. Your words comforting him, your promise soothing his worries.

“For tonight, I can make grilled cheese and tomato soup. Have you ever had it?” You asked him.

Shaking his head no, you gasped dramatically.

“You’ve never had grilled cheese?! Okay well, let me just say… You’re going to love it.” You told him, your voice light and cheery.

Bucky watched you with a small smile on his face, your voice gentle and angelic.

“Can't wait to try it.” Was all he could say, his mind only focused on your face.

Taking in every detail, every freckle, every line. He was trying to paint it permanently into his memory. Never wanting to forget your face, if HYDRA did catch him one day.

☆

You stared at him with eagerness, eyes wide, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky tried to hold back a laugh at your goofiness, looking like a little kid opening presents on Christmas Day. You were beaming, and all he was doing was taking a bite out of some toast and cheese.

"You're dramatic." He stated, watching you roll your eyes.

"I'm excited." You corrected.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, and leaned in to take his first bite.

His eyes lit up in delight as soon as the flavor hit his tongue, you watched with bated breath, smiling when you saw his eyes sparkle. You were satisfied now.

"Now try it dipped in the tomato soup." You told him with a knowing grin.

He took his time chewing, relishing the flavor and taste. Wasting no time and dipping a corner of the grilled cheese into the soup. Again, his eyes widened in shock, like he had never tasted something so good— so delectable in his life.

"What's the verdict?" You asked him with a smirk, your own food abandoned in front of you, only interested in his reaction.

"It's... amazing." He shared, immediately dipping into the soup and taking another bite.

You felt bubbly, knowing you had made him happy. One of the reasons you enjoyed making food for him being his reactions, his appreciation, the praise you'd receive, even from just a bowl of cereal.

After a comfortable silence filled the room, the two ate in peace. Glancing up every now and then, making eye contact and sharing a little smile.

Bucky was nearly done with his helping, you slowly nibbling tiny bites, mind wandering, unfocused on the food in front of you.

The faintest thud from the front porch had you perking up, eyebrows furrowed in alert, while your body tensed up at the possible thought that there was someone outside. Dropping your grilled cheese, you excused yourself.

“Be right back.” You told him, missing the concerning look on his face when you walked away.

Walking out onto the porch, you scanned the area. Finding no other being in the area. Your fists clenched, nose burning from frustration. Your mind exhausted from all the tricks, all the illusions. It had sounded so real, and even now standing on the porch, you felt watched.

Walking over to the porch stairs, you plopped yourself down. Burying your face into your hands, quietly crying. You were tired of sensing this false reality, desperately wishing to be normal.

Without your knowledge, Bucky watched with worried eyes as he watched your body shake with sobs, from behind the screen door.

He had immediately followed you in stealthy steps when he watched you leave in such a haste, face painted with fear. Finding you curled into a ball on the front steps, he wondered what had you so upset. He wanted to know what the cause of your distress was. But you had yet to hint anything of that sort to him, keeping your life still a mystery.

He felt something blossoming inside of him, the urge to wrap his arms around you in protection overwhelming. He was not fond of touch, preferring to keep his distance.

So why was he struggling to hold himself back from running over to you?

A/N: hi cuties🤍 i didn’t forget about this story don’t worry, life’s been pretty stressful and busy lately is all. i have so many ideas and things coming soon to this story, im so excited and i hope y’all will like it!

TAGLIST: @navs-bhat @ragingrainbowshipl @delicatecapnerd @buckybarnesandmarvel @viperchick47 @hunitweet @vixi-3303 @mirtaqueen @buckyb-stan @happinessinthebeing

[a-slut-for-smut]

Whip It Out - a smutty SuguShoko drabble

in a MOOD. anyway...have some SuguShoko smut, as a treat (ao3 link)

Shoko rolls her eyes inwardly as Suguru drones on and on about how he kicked Gojo’s ass at the cursed technique demonstration exam (even though Suguru ranked second place), how the referees made a bad call and that it was all rigged.  

“…anyway, Gojo may have near limitless cursed energy but the idiot doesn’t know how to use it, he’s got no style at all, he’s just a big noisemaker- all flex but no finesse, you know what I mean?” 

“Big talk coming from someone who technically lost.”  Shoko replies boredly.

Suguru scoffs.  “It's not big talk if it's coming from a “big” man.”  He wiggles his eyebrows with a devilish grin.

Shoko suddenly pauses mid step, turning to look him straight in his eyes.  

“Prove it then. Whip it out.”  

His grin drops like a curtain as his eyesbrows do the exact opposite. 

“…excuse me?”

Shoko sighs, unimpressed as always.  “You heard me. You talk a big game, let's see what you got.”  She cocks her head downward unabashedly.

Suguru’s mouth is agape but no words make it past his lips; instead his eyes frantically scan for any indication of jest but her trademark poker face betrays nothing. 

“I…I'm not going to just pull out my d*ick in public! What the hell is wrong with you??” He balks, hands outstretched in exasperation.

“If you talk the talk, you should walk the walk.” She counters evenly.

“Whatever.  You couldn’t handle it.”  He retorts with a dismissive hand gesture.

It's her turn to scoff.  “Oh? What are you so afraid of? That you won’t compare to a certain fellow student?”

There. That ever so subtle yet unmistakable twitch at the corner of his lip.  

Men were so mind-numbingly predictable.

Suguru licks his lips unconsciously.  “…..so you…you’ve seen his...”, he trails off, flustered.

She shrugs, struggling to keep a knowing smirk at bay.  “I won’t confirm or deny because there’s this thing called doctor-patient privilege, but I work in the medical profession. We obviously have to closely examine and operate on people, you think we can do that properly when you're fully clothed?  I have to see all sorts of butts and boobs…”, but her facade cracks ever so slightly under the sheer glee of watching his progressively stupefied expression.  

…and big d*icks.” she finishes with a sly grin.

Suguru’s face instantly pulls upon realization.  

Bingo.  Victory is sweet but Shoko can’t get enough.

“Anyway, just forget it, I get why you wouldn’t want to.” She teases.  “Let’s get going- ”  she cuts herself off when his large hand suddenly wraps around her slender wrist, yanking her towards him, his grip tense.  The intensity of his glare could unnerve an Elder but Shoko wasn’t shaken in the slightest. 

“I’m going to need that hand back…unless you need to borrow it for something?”  She doesn’t bother to hide her devious smirk this time.

Suguru’s stony face betrays him once again with that telltale twitch, much to her delight.

He leans down, his face so close she can feel his heated breath along the bridge of her nose.  

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?”  He grouses under his breath.

Without another word he turns on his heel and marches with Shoko in tow towards the wooded area of the school grounds that was well overdue for maintenance.  

Shoko goes along with it, intrigued in the urgency in his step, the tension in his grip; it was all very uncharacteristic of him.  

Let’s see how this plays out. 

They come in a bit of wilderness amongst some dense shrubbery in need of a trim when he releases her wrist.  His back towards her, he approaches a large sakura tree, his eyes peeled to the ground as if suddenly engrossed in counting the soft pink petals scattered across its tangled roots.

Shoko gives him a moment while she lights a cigarette.  She eyed a few petals drifting down from the branches to his feet as she took a slow drag and exhaled before clearing her throat impatiently. 

He briefly shoots her an irritated glance over his shoulder before he fumbles with his pants with a frustrated growl.

“FINE! If that’s what you want, then HERE.”

And suddenly there he was; in all his glory.

Shoko stood there, stunned, but held her cool countenance as she surveyed his exposed flesh. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had actually called her bluff or that he packed a healthy trouser snake that left her speechless; but whatever it was had her mind (and heart) racing.

Suguru, upon exposing himself couldn't meet her eyes so he had turned his head back, eyes toward the sakura tree.  After a few seconds, he clears his throat in the same manner she did.

“Well?? Satisfied? I told you you couldn’t handle- eeeeep!?!”

The embarrassment of producing such a pathetically undignified squeal was lost on him the moment he felt her soft, warm hand envelope his oh-so-sensitive flesh in the heat of her palm.  When or how she closed the distance between them without him noticing was a complete enigma but it didn't matter.  The world could be on fire but in that moment, nothing else mattered. 

Shoko’s head was close enough to touch his chin as she examined his tender flesh leisurely with her left hand, slightly chewing on the butt of her cigarette while absorbed at the task at hand (literally).  

She was able to determine the weight (nice) as it rested in her palm, the circumference (very nice) by lightly closing her long slender fingers around him until they met her thumb, but as he was only semi-erect, the length would have to wait.

….or would it?

“Quite the specimen you have here, Suguru.  Results are better than expected.”  She remarked casually, not bothering to look up at him.

Suguru frowned slightly, glaring at her but said nothing.  She may be a doctor but still had miles to go as far as bedside manner.

However, his sour mood vaporized instantly when she abruptly crouches down to study him more closely, so close he could literally feel those wispy tendrils of smoke caressing his bare skin. 

It felt utterly divine, and his flesh within her grasp involuntarily demonstrated as such to the fullest. Suguru is suddenly hot, unbearably hot under his stifling uniform; he had no doubt his face was flushed red but his body was no longer under his control, paralyzed within her clutches.  

His hopeless ordeal is not lost on Shoko. No. In fact, it was quite the discovery.

“Hmm…” she muses aloud.  “...a bit sensitive, but otherwise healthily responsive to stimuli.” 

Still palming him, she brings her hand forward so her thumb rests on the tip of the head, then delicately traces up his shaft with her thumb pad, her palm following it up when her thumb was overstretched until it brushes the wisps of hair on his pelvic trail.  

Very, VERY nice.

Shoko takes another long drag, the cigarette nearly down to the nub, dangerously close to burning her fingers, exhaling directly into his crotch before looking him straight in the eyes.

“Mind if I give it a little blow?”

Suguru choke-coughed, sputtering.  Clearing his throat in vain he desperately tries to find his composure (and his voice) again but is only partially successful.

“Uhh...sure.” His voice cracked, cringing as cleared his throat again.  “You can, you know, do whatever you want.” 

She smiles widely at that, exuding a brightness and warmth he had never seen from her- so much so that it nearly unsettled him. Almost.   

“Well alright then.  As long as you’re sure.”  She tosses the cigarette butt and adjusts her grip, steadying him comfortably within her grasp.  “Here it goes. You ready?”

Words (and sanity) escape him, his eyes locked on hers as he manages to nod ever so slightly.

Shoko turns her attention back to his hips, making a show of licking her lips, slowly widening her mouth to form a perfect “O”. 

Suguru can’t stop himself from twitching in her hand, time seems to slow as she bridges the distance, her lips just a hair shy of brushing against his achingly hard flesh.  He’s light-headed as he’s been unconsciously holding his breath for quite some time- well that, amongst other…reasons. 

And in what was the longest moment of his life at that point, it was all over in an instant.

That oh-so-perfect shape of her mouth falls away as her lips suddenly draw back into a pucker, blowing out a quick gust of air across his skin with a comical “pfft!” sound.  

“All set! Thanks for obliging me.”

She straightens up and turns on her heel, casually strolling away without any sort of acknowledgement.

Suguru eyes go wide; jaw dropped, red faced.  

“Shoko!! What the fu- you….BITCH!!!”

She slows to a halt, coolly eyeing him over her shoulder.  “What? Were you expecting something else?” She asks coyly.

He scowls, glaring daggers at her before turning away from her jeering eyes; vehemently grumbling under his breath all the while as he struggles to stuff his erection back into his pants.

“You know…” Shoko starts with a grin, relishing in his frustration, “...like I said, you’ve got quite a specimen there.  Wouldn’t mind…conducting further experiments sometime, if you’re game.”  

She doesn't bother waiting for his response as she darts into the dense shrubbery, making a quick retreat before she lost herself at the ridiculous sight of a dumb-stricken Suguru; slack-jawed, pants down, his semi-flacid c*ock in hand. 

Oh yes, she could (and would) dine on that for years and years to come.

************

This scene is technically a flashback, i guess u can consider it a preview of a companion smut fic to my Gojohime smut fic which kicks off the SuguShoko (and NanaMei) goodness. In my delusions of grandeur this was supposed to be a fic series with a Nanamei companion smut fic as well but alas, life woes! Anyway, thx for reading xoxo

[stillgoingsteddie]

Good Vibrations

Modern day AU Eddie x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, Bluetooth vibrator, semi public sex I guess?, pet names (sweetheart, babe), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, dp technically, teasing, begging, creampie, two uses of Y/N (let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: 2.1 k

Summary: You decide to take on Eddie’s challenge of wearing a Bluetooth vibrator to a Hellfire session

A/N: Thank you so much for 100+ followers!!! Also I’m taking artistic liberty and pretending all the rolls require a d20, just made it easier for myself to write

This idea was stupid, you knew it was, but your stubbornness wasn’t gonna let you refuse. You stared at the toy sitting in a hidden zipper in your purse as you remember the conversation you had with your boyfriend the night before. “You should wear your vibe during Hellfire tomorrow.” He had said nonchalantly while revising his notes for the next day. “What?!” You practically yelled in response, “how about fuck no you perv”

Your reaction caused Eddie to laugh, “Why not? It’d be funny.” “Only to you! I’d like to not scar our fellow club members, thank you very much.” You shook your head, still appalled by Eddie’s suggestion. “They wouldn’t even know about it.” Eddie looked up from his notes with a smirk, “unless you’re admitting you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.”

You let out a small gasp “I can so keep it together. Are you challenging me, Munson?” “I might be” he responded smoothly, “I guess we’ll just have to see tomorrow.”

And now here you were in one of the stalls in the girls’ bathroom eyeing the vibrator you snuck into school. You silently cursed your boyfriend as you took the toy and turned it on and slipped it inside yourself. You had to admit the idea was interesting and did turn you on a little, seeing how you were already starting to get wet. When you were ready you cleaned yourself up and left for the Hellfire room.

You got there early like usual, you often helped Eddie set up the table with his screen and figures. As you walked up to him you heard his phone chime, immediately recognizing the sound of it connecting to Bluetooth. His eyes widened as he grinned at you. “Looks like someone took me up on my offer.” You rolled your eyes as you avoided his gaze. “You know I don’t back down from a challenge. Plus it’s to prove a point.”

As you started moving items around Eddie grabbed his phone and opened an app. You didn’t have to ask what he was doing because you immediately felt soft vibrations run through your core. You froze for a moment before finishing rearranging a figure and then glaring at Eddie. He let out a small chuckle, “just testing it!” before turning the vibrations off and placing his phone in his pocket.

A few more minutes went by before the rest of the club started filing in. The both of you greeted everyone happily and had small conversations while everyone got ready.

Before you knew it an hour had already passed. Between being so into the game and Eddie suspiciously not using the vibrator yet almost made you forget you were even wearing it. Almost. Every time you readjusted your sitting position or stretched reminded you of your little hidden secret.

“As you all walk through the thick forest, pushing through low hanging vines and dense bushes, you come across a large cave. Walking inside, you can hear the subtle drip, drip, drip, of water falling from the hanging stalagmites.” Eddie explained as he set the scene. “Isn’t it stalactites if they’re on the ceiling?” Jeff corrected him. “Hey! No interrupting the DM!” Eddie shot back, eliciting a small laugh from everyone.

“As you hear the water fall from the stalactites” Eddie started again, “you notice a shadow against one of the farther walls. Moving closer to the shadow and deeper into the cave causes your footsteps to echo off the walls. Soon the shadow starts to grow larger and larger until the source of it fully emerges: an adult green dragon! Do you stay and fight or will you flee?”

The group talked amongst themselves for a moment, arguing whether to take their chances battling or not. Arguments were made for both sides but in the end it came down to your decision to break the stalemate.

Before you could respond you felt vibrations start up again. You quickly glare at Eddie before taking a breath. “Well.. uh.. we should all roll for initiative first. We can decide how to act after.”

You and the rest of the group all rolled your respective dice, yours landing on a 4. You felt the toy increase in intensity oh so slightly, if you weren’t so accutely aware you may not have even noticed the change. You tried to the best of your ability to ignore the feeling as you looked at what everyone else rolled. A mixture of high and low rolls led you all to decide to advance and attack. Since your roll was on the lower side you were one of the last attackers.

When your turn came around you decided to try and stun the opponent. 11, just barely missed. “Aw cr- FUCK!” Your mini disappointed outburst was interrupted by the pulsing inside you increasing drastically. You took a deep breath and quickly added “I was this close.” to explain your outburst. As the rest of the group diverted their attention to the next attacker in line, you shot a glare at Eddie.

He placed his chin on his clasped hands as he grinned at you like the cat that got the cream. You mouthed a ‘fuck you!’ to him and he softly chuckled, giving you a wink. A few more turns and it was the opponent’s turn. Eddie had it direct an attack at you in which you had to try and block. 2. Even though you were disappointed with the attack hitting, you were relieved with the dying vibrations inside you.

You figured out the pattern at this point. Eddie was matching the level of vibrations with what you rolled, making what would be a wanted high roll into a despised torture. At least you were more prepared with what to expect with each roll.

After a couple more rounds of the battle the opponent was almost down. You were one of the final members remaining and the only one who could successfully land a killing blow this turn. If you missed or rolled too low, it could be game over for you guys.

“Come on, Y/N! You got this!” Gareth encouraged. “Yeah, don’t let us down!” Mike added. You gave your d20 a lucky blow of air before rattling it between your hands for a moment and throwing it down. Everyone at the table watched intensely as it rolled around in front of you. After what seemed like an obnoxiously long time the die stopped: 19.

The whole group erupted in cheers as Eddie knocked over the figure. You jumped out of your seat in celebration with the others and reaching out to give everyone high fives. But as soon as your excitement started it was soon cut short as the strongest vibrations you felt the whole session blasted through you. Your hands dropped to the edge of the table as you gripped it, trying to keep yourself from falling over.

“Hey, Y/N, you doing ok?” Curse Dustin and his keen eye and caringness, now's not the time! “Yeah, just got a little.. light headed for a sec.” You could feel yourself trembling, it was a miracle no one could hear the literal buzzing from within you. You sat back down and clamped your legs together as you reached for the water bottle next to your chair. “I’ll be fine!” As you took a sip you shot the evilest glare you could manage at your boyfriend. “Nice job, sweetheart.” He replied completely unfazed.

Once everyone left you practically jumped into Eddie’s lap, greedily taking his mouth with your own. “I fucking hate you so much!” You breathed out between kisses.

You could feel Eddie’s smile as he hungrily returned your kisses. “Couldn’t have been that bad, you seemed to be enjoying it.” He gripped your waist and thrust up into you, making you feel how hard he was. “I know I did.” You let out a moan as you felt him brush against your clothed pussy. “Please, just fuck me already!”

Moving his hands to your thighs Eddie lifted you up and sat you on the table. The two of you made quick work of your pants, but Eddie stopped you from removing your panties. “Look how soaked these are! All this ‘cause of me?” You nodded shyly, “Eds.. need you, please..”

He kissed you as he slowly removed the last barrier to your cunt, the air sending a chill through you. He easily slipped two fingers into you as he worked his thumb on your clit. You pushed your hips into his hand to meet his movements, his fingers weren’t enough. “Eddie… need more!” You whined out the few words you could muster.

“Easy babe,” he places his free hand against your cheek. “So needy for my cock aren’t you? Cum for me once and I’ll give you what you want.” Another finger joins the two already in you and you start to feel pressure building within you. You could feel Eddie pushing against that special spot within you as his thumb made rapid circles around your button.

“Fuck, fuck! Ed’s I’m gonna.. I’m cumming!” The pressure within you releases as you let out a moan and gush all over your boyfriend’s fingers and down his shirt and pants. Eddie laughs and leans down to kiss you again. “Fucking love it when you squirt on me. Now what is it you want again?” He couldn’t help but tease you. You rolled your eyes. “Just put your fucking cock in me before I leave.” You replied impatiently.

“So demanding! I played nice with you this whole time and that’s how you treat me?” He playfully pouts at you as he grabs his phone. As everyone was cleaning up he had turned the vibrator off to let you relax, but now he was starting it up again on the lowest setting. “Maybe I should leave you here on the table and watch you squirm as I get myself off?”

“No, please!” You pushed yourself up to lean on your elbows. “Please, Eddie, fuck me. I need to feel your cock inside me.” He kisses you again. “See, was that so hard? Get those legs up, pretty thing.” As he starts to undo his belt you shift your legs so your feet were planted on the table. Eddie stops and grabs your ankles. “Nuh uh, up here.” Pulling you closer to him he rests your calves on his shoulders, before going back to his pants and pulling his dick out.

Collecting some of your slick he coats his cock before lining up with your entrance. “This okay?” He always wanted to make sure you were comfortable. “Aren’t you gonna remove the vibe?” You asked confused. “Nope!” He replied with a smirk. “I wanna try something.” You let out a sigh and shook your head as you laid back down. “Fine, you freak.”

He pushes into you fully with a groan, giving you a few moments to adjust before he starts moving. “God, you always feel so amazing.” Between the soft vibrations and Eddie’s thrusts, you were in pure bliss. How hadn’t you two tried this before? Throwing your head back you started to moan again. “Eddie, please faster!” He happily obliges and speeds up his thrusts. Grabbing his phone again he increases the intensity of the vibrations.

“Holllly fuckkkk!” His words were drawn out as he keels over you, practically bending you in half. The new angle has him fucking you deeper than before, making you want to scream. Your hands found the edge of the table again as you gripped it like your life depended on it. At the moment it might as well could’ve with how much it felt like Eddie was splitting you in half. “Eddie, please! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum again!”

“You.. and me.. both sweetheart.” Eddie could feel his climax closing in. He reached a hand in between you two to rub your clit again as he increased the vibrations to the max. You felt your whole body shake as you orgasmed, feeling Eddie release inside you soon after. He let your legs drop back down to the floor and leaned his head against yours, the both of you breathing heavily as you came down from your highs.

The vibrations were soon too much, overstimulating you both. You softly whimpered as Eddie lowered the vibrations, him gently peppering your face with kisses to calm you down. After the vibrator was completely off you opened your eyes, never even realizing they closed, and smiled sweetly at your boyfriend. He returns your smile and kisses your lips.

“We should definitely do this again!”

“Sure thing! It’s your turn anyway.”

[laismoura-art]

About that "send me a ship and I'll tell who.." ask game, dollstinger :D?

Hey Jasper! Wow, it never fails to flatter me how you and @thedragonholder trust me with your OCs! 🥹💕 I hope to do them justice!

🔮DollStinger!🔥

Would it be ok if I made this based on your idea that Satoshi was kidnapped and raised to be Quan Chi's champion, and now Yoomi is helping his parents restore him? Cause I'm absolutely IN LOVE with this idea and want to explore!

°.✦ Who said “I love you” first:

Satoshi!

He spent years of his life with a master manipulator, being with lies and secrets, so Satoshi can't STAND secrets, so when he realised he loved Yoomi, he decided to come clean right away regardless of if she would say it beck, he just had to be honest with her!

She said it back, obviously!

°.✦ Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background:

Yoomi!

He says he hates his laugh cause his dimples make him look weird, and when he told Yoomi that she looked at him as o he had grown and extra head!

She told him he was crazy wrong and to prove her point, she took a picture of him laughing and pointed out everything she loved about him like this, she also used said picture as wallpaper so she could "always look at him when he's the most handsome!"

°.✦ Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror:

Satoshi!

His mom told him about it while they were bonding, she said it was a cute gesture and he wanted to give it a try!

Yoomi loved it, of course, and they started to exchange messages through bathroom mirror!

°.✦ Who buys the other cheesy gifts:

Yoomi!

She buys him things she thinks are funny to help him loosen up!

He is supposed to think they are silly and have a good laugh, but he genuinely likes them and uses the gifts unironically, lol!

°.✦ Who initiated the first kiss:

Yoomi!

Again, Satoshi likes to always come clean about his feelings, so one day he told her exactly how he felt!

It was a bit awkward, and he was terrified of rejection (cause these kids are DENSE when it comes to being crushed on) but Yoomi was loving to hear all the nice things he had to say about her! She loved especially to hear her feelings were reciprocated, and as much as she wanted to keep hearing what he had to say, she couldn't contain herself anymore and rushed to kiss him!

°.✦ Who kisses the other awake in the morning:

They sleep together only in sleepovers and the goal is to sleep till late, their plans are always ruined by Harumi barging into the room, lmao!

°.✦ Who starts tickle fights:

Yoomi!

Again, to help him loosen up! He thought it was a attack at first, though!😅

°.✦ Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower:

They are just teens living in their parents houses, writing cheesy messages in the mirror are one thing, but that's a bit too much!💀

°.✦ Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch:

Satoshi!

Another cute gesture he learned about, this time while bonding with his father!

He finds it nice that Hanzo keeps doing it for Harumi even after they got divorced and if there's no too late for this kind of gestures, there must be no too early either, so he started doing it for Yoomi even before they actually started dating!

°.✦ Who was nervous and shy on the first date:

Both, lol!

They are teenagers with no dating experience whatsoever and were a flustered mess prior to it!

But when the actual date came, they realised it wasn't so different from their regular rang outs and both got much more relaxed!

°.✦ Who kills/takes out the spiders:

None!

Spiders are not meant to be killed and no one wants to mess with scary auntie D'Vorah by killing any insect, lmao! 💀

°.✦ Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk:

No drinking in this household! Plus they are minors!

But in case of spells or magical substance, it would be Yoomi!

[dangraccoon]

Let Them Go

Day 12 ~ communication barrier ~ (Alt. Prompt)

Wrecker

Word Count: Content: taken prisoner, torture, carbonite freezing, Hunter's senses getting FUCKED (note: I was massively inspired by @staycalmandhugaclone's whump series with Doc, specifically Soft Words for this one! Go read their series!! It is amazing!!)

Wrecker spat at the Separatist’s heeled boots, his face drawn into a snarl.

“How charming,” she rolled her eyes. She looked at her lackey. “Get the code.” And then back at Wrecker. “I don’t care how.”

“With pleasure,” the trandoshan snickered and picked up what looked like a metal huttball club. 

Wrecker was about to let out a low warning growl when the club made contact with his gut. The wind left his lungs with a pained grunt and his diaphragm spasmed as his body tried and failed to regain that lost air.

Just as the oxygen began to rush back in, the grunt swung again, this time hitting Wrecker right on the groin. His body curled forward, despite the restraints holding his arms spread above his head. 

Internally, Wrecker chuckled at the panic that flashed into the lackey’s face as Wrecker’s right arm broke free of the restraint. He was quickly subdued, however, by several tranquilizer darts.

Slowly, Wrecker came back to consciousness. The room seemed to be vacant except for him. He tested the restraints again, sure he could break the new ones just as easily as he’d started to break the old ones.

But as he pulled at his arms, he realized that he couldn’t feel anything past his elbows.

He tried to look up at them, but couldn’t turn his head enough to see.

The door slid open, revealing the Separatist woman.

“So you’re finally awake,” she hummed, almost disinterestedly. “I’m sure your dense little brain is trying to find your arms and legs.”

My…legs? he thought, suddenly realizing he couldn’t feel them below the knee either.

Wrecker knew far better than to talk at all when being interrogated–or tortured–for information. But maker, did he want to spit an endless stream of obscenities at her. Instead, he just fixed her in a glare that would make Crosshair proud.

“What’s the matter?” she cooed mockingly. “Never been in carbonite before?”

He growled. 

“Oh, you clones.” The word dropped from her lips like a curse. “Always so eager to prove yourselves as sentient people, yet every time I have one of you in my care, you turn into an animal. Curious, isn’t it?”

Wrecker mustered up enough of his strength to jump at her despite his restraints, but she didn’t flinch. She barely even blinked.

“You prove my point,” she smiled. “Not one of you has ever wished to hold even so much as a simple conversation with me, let alone an intellectual one.” She was close to him now, grabbing his chin in a clawed, vice-like grip. “And you? You went unconscious for almost an entire week. Such bad manners,” she tsked, slapping his cheek lightly before turning on her heel and walking out the door.

The gears in Wrecker’s brain started to turn. Had it really been a week since they’d raided that maker-forsaken cave base? No wonder I’m so hungry, the back of his mind whispered. Between his time here and running out of rations in the field– Wrecker shuddered. His waning strength made more sense now.

He looked around the room, realizing suddenly that it was different than the one he was in before. 

There were two doors; one on the wall to his left, and one on the wall directly across from him. A giant mirror reflected back his tortured image. Arms and legs frozen in solid carbon, just as she said, and he could just make out the bruises covering his skin. 

Been stuck in worse, he thought. 

But then the mirror seemed to flicker, revealing that it wasn’t a mirror, but glass. Strung up by his arms like Wrecker had been before, was Hunter. His head was hanging down, chin to his chest. His hair was soaked and hanging loosely around his face with no bandana to keep it out of his eyes. Like Wrecker, his armor and black undersuit were gone. Hunter seemed to be drenched, and Wrecker found himself trying to figure out what method they’d chosen to torture his sergeant. Probably not waterboarding; Hunter can hold his breath forever.

His answer came sooner than he’d expected as the lackey that had been beating him before entered the other room. 

“Sergeant?” he said, prodding Hunter’s side.  “It’s time to wake up.”

There must be a mic in there.

Wrecker’s heart dropped into his guts as the man flicked a switch on the control pad next to the door. 

Wrecker heard nothing, but watched as Hunter reacted instantly. His entire body seized and a wretched scream tore from his throat, amplified by the speakers Wrecker realized were likely positioned behind him. Wrecker felt like he was going to be sick as he realized it wasn’t water or some chemical that Hunter was drenched in; it was likely his own sweat and tears. 

Wrecker fought against the carbon in vain. 

“Hunter!” he tried to shout, but it came out as a rough croak. 

The lackey flipped the switch back and Hunter’s body fell limp once more. 

Hunter was panting, trying to catch his breath after being forced back into consciousness. His tormentor leaned in close and whispered something Wrecker couldn’t hear. 

Hunter’s head lifted tiredly, and Wrecker could tell he was struggling to focus. His eyes squinted, and then all at once widened in what Wrecker could only describe as terror-fueled rage.

“Let them go!” Hunter shouted. “I’m the only one with the codes!”

As Hunter continued his outrage, Wrecker realized something didn’t sit right with that statement. Them… Wrecker started to battle against the carbon. With a sickening click, he was able to wrench his arm back far enough to pop it out of his socket. He growled through the pain as he got the other one.

With his newfound mobility, he was able to shift forward just enough.

“Kriff,” he swore as he looked to one side, seeing Tech and Crosshair, each entirely encased in carbonite.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @Padawancat97 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[smurphyse]

The Avocado I Didn't Have | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, depictions of gore, monster fights, descriptions of blood, overuse of 80s song lyrics

Summary: Because your friends won't let you have just one day to yourself, you venture out into the Darkness only to find Edward Munson bleeding out

Sunlight filters in through the windows, a soft breeze billowing the curtains, making them dance along with the wind. The chimes on the porch tinkle while the suncatchers spread colors along the walls. Warmth from the morning sun washes over my legs as I swing them off the bed and stretch out the stiffness in my shoulders.

Reaching high and rolling my neck, I intertwine my fingers and let out a little groan. Recently I've been sleeping like shit, and last night wasn’t any better. Dreams of the Darkness and the lab haunted me through fitful tossing and turning along the sheets. They used to happen every night, sometimes during the day, but they had become fewer and further between. This uptick in nightmares rocks me to the core every time they decide to rear their ugly head. 

I let my arms down slowly, feeling a bit better and loose. The hardwood is warm from the sun streams under my bare feet as I make my way to the kitchen. I mutter my usual hellos to my army of houseplants I have scattered around the cabin, and I'm rewarded with their bright happy flora and leaves trailing about. The pothos enjoy their spots up on the bookshelves I’ve got lining the walls while the succulents bask in the warmth on the windowsill.

It’s just one big room -open kitchen with a window facing the front yard that hides my cabin with its array of trees in the dense forest, rugs along the hardwood and crappy armchairs I’ve found over the years sit in front of the fireplace- but it’s home. I found this cabin in the secluded off-the-trails area of Hawkins some years ago and fixed it up the best I could. It took a lot of learning and reading, but luckily I have a little telekinesis that comes in handy when it comes to lifting heavy things and turning tight bolts into wood.

I push aside a few errant vines I keep forgetting to trail along the nails I’ve put in the beams, but once again decide I’m not going to worry about it today. Pulling the coffee pot from the carafe, I slide it between the greenery and fill it with water. Where I am, the water is infected where it’s not dried out, so I bring in water jugs and fill it in the reservoir I’ve set up out back behind the cabin. Another reminder I’ve made my life harder than it needs to be.

But this is safer. There’s safety in seclusion.

"Hey… Hey… What’s the matter with your head, yeah," Redbone croons through the speakers as I putter around in an old flannel and underwear. “Hey… hey… what's the matter with your mind and your sign and oh.”

My sleeve rolls up as I pour the water into the coffee maker, and even all these years later my eyes go straight for the tattoo on my wrist. 000 stands out like a brand. I suppose that’s exactly what it is. I’ve thought about covering it almost every day since escaping Papa and his military goons, but I’ve never been able to make myself get new ink. One, it would require going to a more populated area and showing an ID that I don’t have to prove I’m above the age of eighteen. Two, it’s a part of me.

A painful soul wrenching part that will never leave. Covering the ink won’t fix me no matter how much I wish it would. 

You have to know, daughter, Papa’s voice echoes from those deep caverns of memory, always at the worst times. I do these things because I love you. You’re capable of greatness, and we need to bring it to the light. Do you understand?

“Do you understand?” I mock to the empty room, making a face and scoffing. I slap the carafe into the pot and let it percolate, then head outside to check my garden.

In the mood for something yummy after such a shit night, I wander through the thick grass and enjoy the sun on my skin as I make my way over. The garden’s expansive, full of more food than I’ll ever realistically eat on my own, but it doesn’t matter. What I don’t use I take down to Stoney Hightower at the Farmer’s Market in Greencastle, the next town over from Hawkins, and he gives me enough for my troubles and my out-of-season fresh strawberries.

I have everything, from tomatoes to potatoes, from bananas to avocados. The half acre of vegetation is spattered with high stalks and fruit trees, plumed with green bean sprouts and cabbages. My powers had been honed long ago, the initial telekinesis I showed as an infant growing until it included element manipulation.

When I finally learned it was all chemistry, simple mathematics and formulas taught by my father, it all made more sense. Papa wanted to turn me into a weapon. All I’d ever wanted to do was create. He wanted me to destroy, and when I refused I was punished.

Eleven years after escaping him and Hawkins’ lab, I hadn’t gone far. I retreated to the Darkness and inside created my safe space. At twenty six I’ve been alone almost half my life, and I like it that way… but it gets lonely here sometimes.

I pluck a few avocados from a tree, eyeing the Darkness at the edge of my property. The red and purple clouds seem to breathe on their own as they wage their constant war to entreat on my home, only giving way to the sunshine dome around me. I’ve kept myself hidden in this little enclave, masking the area so only I can enter. It’s hard some days to keep up the shield around it, to make sure Henry can’t enter, but so far he hasn’t stepped foot inside.

I can see the creatures circling in the distant crackling sky, and I cock my head as I wonder what food they’ve found in the desolate Dark. Deciding I don’t want to know, I turn on my heel only to come face to face with one of the creatures themselves.

Shrieking like a scared rabbit, I fall hard on my ass and scramble away until my back hits the avocado tree. My precious fruits bounce away and my fucked up brain grieves the avocado I didn’t have before dying. Chest heaving, I blink through the harsh sunlight as its shadow covers me and it’s twitching head cocks to the side.

The head is a giant bird skull with no visible eyes and thin skin, with leathery wings and sharp claws. It’s the size of two grown vultures, massive and imposing. It lets out a little brrup and hops toward me, so I reach out to pet its beak.

“Screech! You scared the shit outta me!” I huff, letting out a relieved chuckle. Screech pats his foot in bliss as my heart rate slows to normal, humming happily and nuzzling his bony chin further into my hand.

I push him away and get to my feet, ignoring Screech’s little groan of disappointment and the insistent fluttering of his wings. He’s always so needy. I put my hands on my hips and cock a brow at him, “Where’s Clem?”

The creature shrugs and looks away, not wanting to give his cuddles to his sister. I hook one finger under his beak and pull at him until he faces me. Though he’s at least twice my height, he knows I’m in charge and after a few tugs he relents.

“Where’s Clem, Screech?”

A small gurgling bark from behind makes my eyes go wide, and I turn just in time for Clem herself to barrel into my chest. I hit the ground harder than the first time, sliding through the grass as she nuzzles into me and licks every inch of skin she can reach. Laughing madly, I pat her leathery skin, the tickling feeling of her flower-bud mouth tingling all over.

I finally manage to roll out from under her and get to my feet, holding out my hands playfully. She wags her tail, her bulky body coiled to pounce on me once more. The size of a small horse, Clem acts like a dog. Just like Screech, she has no eyes, just that flower-shaped mouth that spreads wide when she opens it.

“What are you two up to today?” I ask suspiciously. “Dinner isn’t until six. You guys know that.”

They exchange a look as well as they can with no eyeballs, but it’s clear enough. Just as I’m about to demand an answer, Screech hangs his head and points one bony wing to where the creatures circle the sky.

Something is out there.

“Well, shit.”

I kick aside the avocado I didn’t have before dying, resenting it more than grieving it now. Stomping back to the cabin, I wave my hands as Screech and Clem follow me closely up the hill.

“I fully intended to have a me day, y’know? I was gonna have a bath, a glass of wine,” I call to them as I bang around in my room. I pull on a pair of jeans and heavy boots for the coolness, snag a jacket off the back of the door. “And you two show up and now I have to go into the Dark.”

Clambering into the kitchen, I glare at them through the porch window. I pour fresh coffee into a thermos as they watch me, letting out little chirrups of embarrassment while they wait patiently. I huff and squint at them, “This isn’t something you can handle by yourselves?”

Clem and Screech shake their heads, so I let out a dramatic groan and head for the gun closet. I’ve collected a handful of useful weapons over the years, made a few myself, but I instinctively reach for the pistol holster and their respective pieces. I grab the shotgun and loop the strap over my shoulders before closing it and snatching my thermos off the counter. 

Kicking the door open, I step onto the porch. It creaks with my weight, slight as it is. I’ve been meaning to replace the slats but that would mean going into the real world and I haven’t been up for it lately with all the nightmares. I frown at my two little monsters as I pull my long curls into a ponytail.

“This better be good, guys.”

I head off the porch to the side of the cabin, hopping into the ‘84 robin’s egg blue Jeep that lay nestled between the trees. I’d… procured it some years ago and brought it through a gate I’ve since closed. I keep it in tiptop condition, proud of my car that nobody gets to see with its registration that once belonged to someone named Haley Goddard. Poor Haley. I’m certainly never going to give it back. 

I’ve found myself capable of a lot of things since leaving the lab when at first I was like a scared puppy in the rain, unsure and terrified. I find books in bargain bins and when I have enough money I buy better ones on everything from mechanics to architecture to horticulture. Learning’s in my DNA thanks to Papa, so I enjoy it even though the thought of him makes my skin crawl.

Clem and Screech lead me through the trail of trees to the edges of my property, which I affectionately call The Haven. We venture into the Darkness, the sunshiney dome of the Haven shifting quickly to the deep purple storms. While I have reception in the Haven, it’s spotty at best in the Darkness, so I pop in a mix-tape I found at the record store to let some semblance of my morning routine happen while I sip my coffee from the thermos.

“If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me,” ABBA comes through on the speakers, a little crackly, but I don’t mind. I pull a face and decide to roll with it, swaying in time with the music as I enter a storm.

The rolling clouds surround us as we drive around the vines, creatures swarming the Jeep but they know to leave us be. I’ve killed enough of them that they avoid me and my bright blue car. I only really have to deal with them now if I get in their way.

I drive through the Dark Hawkins, following Screech and Clem through winding roads in the boonies until we reach the trailer park. Once, before the Darkness took over this place, the buildings were pristine, beautiful. Better looking than they were in the real world. Now, the vines and monsters have taken over and encircle everything with a flurry of dust and violence.

It’s a shame. This world was my safe place once. The entirety of it mimicked the Haven, not just my little property. Henry and I spent hours exploring and mapping all of it, playing with the creatures before they all turned to blood and death. Before Henry’s own demons followed and destroyed everything.

“'Cause you know I've got so much that I wanna do. When I dream I'm alone with you,” I sing along as we go deeper into the Darkness. Clem and Screech lead me through the haze of those flying ratbat fuckers that Henry created, about five miles from the Haven. “It’s magic.”

A group of them were crouched around something, pulling and biting as I hop out of the Jeep. Deciding it might be best to make a quick getaway, I leave the door open as my feet hit the ground, careful to avoid the vines. I don’t want Henry to know I’m here.

The music plays as I approach, tiptoeing around the tendrils embedded in the dirt as Huey Lewis & The News echoes around the Dark, “I was walkin’ down a one-way street, just a-lookin’ for someone to meet…”

I swat away the swarm, poking at them with the butt of the shotgun. One of them turns and hisses at me, swinging out a clawed hand. I smash the gun on its head and kick another, and soon enough they back off, skirring as they slink away.

“Now I'm hopin' (hopin') that the feeling is right, and I'm wonderin' (wonderin') if you'll stay for the night…”

Clem and Screech push them further away as I inspect their prey. My lip curls into a disgusted snarl as I approach, eyeing the splattered blood and hardly recognizable jeans. An electric guitar hangs limply in one of the person’s hands, the strings snapped and the body cracked.

They must have made their way through to the real world and dragged some poor bastard inside.

Skin and bone sticks up from leather and cotton fabric, shredded and glistening far too brightly in this dimmed and darkened place. While Clem and Screech keep the creatures at bay, I kneel beside the body and reach to the blood-covered face of this person. I press the back of my hand to their cheek. It’s sticky with drying blood but still warm.

I let my fingers trail down the mess of broken bones and snagged skin, wrapping my hand around the wrist and feeling for a pulse.

"If you believe it, take my hand, and I'll take your heart…”

I can faintly feel something, but it’s hard to tell like this. I set the gnarled hand down and press my fingers to the throat. Matted hair and sweat lines the person’s skin, and I have to peel some thick curling strands away. It’s fading…. But I can feel it.

This person is alive.

Making sure Clem and Screech are holding their own, shrieking and clawing at the flying ratbats, I push away some hair from their head to get a better look at them. I inspect them as I cup their face gently in my hands. Taking a deep breath, I let myself relax for what I’m about to do.

Any medical combat situation starts with this question, Zero, Colonel Sullivan’s voice comes from the back of my mind, How do I stop the bleeding?

I suck in air through my nose as I focus, letting my friends protect me while I help this person. Platelets stick together around wounds to stop the bleeding. They need help though. Protein binds with platelets to form a fibrin clot. 

I need to form a fibrin clot. 

I’ve done this enough times on myself but this person is bleeding badly. Barely able to fathom how they’re still alive, I hope they were at least unconscious for the creatures eating into their belly.

Picturing the blood vessels shrinking to slow the blood flow, the energy in the body kickstarts to healing with my help. As they constrict, I hum to focus. The platelets move to cover the injuries, the brain activating to begin coagulation. Sticky blood pools beneath my knees as I work, and my nose begins to drip with the effort. 

Guiding protein to the platelets, I let the body begin the process and let go, doing my best to ignore the copper scent of blood as I wipe it away from my upper lip. There will be a lot of work for me to do on them, but for now this will last until we get back to the Haven. Pulling a handkerchief from my back pocket, I spit on one corner and begin to wipe away the blood and dirt.

For a moment I think they might be a woman, they’re so pretty. Soft rounded cheekbones give way to full lips, but the Adam’s apple on his throat tells me he’s a man. He’s young, probably my age, and much too gentle looking to be in a place like this.

Patting him down as the creatures hiss around me for taking their food, I feel until I find the thin lining of a wallet in his back pocket. I dig it out and flip it open, reading the name on the license in the little window.

Edward Wayne Munson, DOB 10/31/1965.

There’s a few other interesting things in his pockets, such as one of those twenty-sided dice nerds like to use in their games. I’d read about D&D, but seeing as I have no friends I’ve never played. A slip of paper folded up in one reads, Corroded Coffin, tonight only! with a picture of a curly-haired guitarist on stage with his band. I also find a joint in his jacket pocket, pre-rolled and in good condition, and I chuckle as I stuff it into my jacket along with his other things for safe keeping.

“Do you believe in love? Do you believe it's true?” Huey Lewis sings from the car as I zip his jacket to keep his organs inside during the drive. The last thing I need is to clean guts from the upholstery.

I loop the shotgun and guitar over my back with the straps, then lean over and grab Edward Munson under the armpits and drag him back to the car. I try to avoid the vines, but as I pull him along, Edward gasps and jerks one of his arms from my grasp.

“Fuck,” I hiss as I scramble to hold onto him. “Stay still!”

He struggles anyways, panic and pain likely taking over despite his weakness and the damage to his body. I grip his hair tightly at the crown, pull his head back to look at me. I find myself gazing into bright brown eyes that are full of terror and glistening with tears.

“I’m going to help you,” I say sternly. “Let me help you.”

Edward lets out a breath of relief, and I let his head drop back down. But then he spots Screech, Clem, and the ratbats. His legs kick out in a panic. Right into one of the vines.

“Well… shit.”

Lightning flashes across the sky with a thunderous crack! The clouds turn red, pulsing in the dark and rolling straight toward us, and I drop him in my fear. He hits the ground hard, but I pull him up again in a flash, a mad dash of panic to get the hell back to safety.

Screech jumps back from the swarm, snapping his beak at the ratbats. He snarls as Clem takes pleasure in biting the heads off any that she can reach. I drag Edward to the Jeep, yelling and cursing even though I’m sure he’s unconscious again.

“You stupid fuck!” I scream as I pull him under the open door. More of the swarm appears, and one tugs at my ponytail, dragging me back until I fall on my ass on the cold ground.

My hand flashes back to grip it at the base. Tears spring to my eyes as it jerks my head back and forth. The wings flap loudly, only the roaring of the rising wind audible over it. Letting out a screech, I manage to pull one of the pistols from my holster and point it behind my head.

The pop is deafening, a dull ringing bursting across my eardrum as the wind howls in my other. The creature yelps as the bullet hits meat, releasing me and flopping across the ground in pain. I scramble to my feet, holding my hand out as I force the ground to raise Edward to the level of the Jeep seats. Quickly rounding the car, I jump into the passenger side and pull him in, then lean the seat back as far as it will go and shove him down on it.

Pulling the passenger door closed, I climb over him to the driver’s side, slamming it shut. Throwing the car in reverse, I back up enough to give Clem and Screech room to defend us, then slap it in drive and tear off toward the Haven.

The sky booms with lights and electricity. The storms burst from the area of town where the old Creel house is, where Henry hides, and my jaw drops as it heads straight toward my little car. Fear bursts through my veins at the thought of him catching me. I stomp down on the gas, the Jeep rattling and bouncing over each bump and vine I’d taken care to avoid on the way here.

Edward groans, struggling to sit up with every bounce of the shocks on the crappy road. His voice slurs, deep and husky as he asks, “What the fuck it going on?”

“Shut up, dipshit!”

He looks my way with bleary eyes. Still bleeding, still damaged, likely beyond repair. I’m not sure I’ll be able to save him, and all I can think about is that damned avocado I should have had before venturing out into a waking nightmare. He nods and goes limp, and I curse to nobody, “Great! Just great! I just wanted to have one nice day!”

I spot Clem and Screech in the rearview mirror, just as fast as the ratbats though they are much bigger. The speedometer hits 80 mph before I reach the borders of the Haven, winding through trees and the trails. I don’t slow until I see Clem and Screech follow me inside.

The creatures hiss outside as they approach the sunlit patch of land, coming up short and snarling at me from a distance. Even though I know they won’t, I sigh a breath of relief that they don’t follow us inside.

By the time I park next to the cabin, my body turns to jelly. My fingers and hands shake as I peel them from the steering wheel. Looking over to the man slumped over in my passenger seat, I shake my head.

“You better be worth it, Munson.”

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: Okay, I've been working on this for a while... I need to know what you think of Zero and if you like her/the story so far. I'm really excited for this story and I want you guys to like it! <3

Also, the faceclaim for Zero is Adria Arjona because I think she looks similar to me even though I'm Siksika and she's Latina. We share very similar features ngl Zero is a projection of parts of myself

Stranger Things Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23

[cafesweetvn]

HYUN-AE FLUFF ALPHABET

a = affection (how affectionate are they?)

Hyun-ae is not super affectionate physically, she’d rather give you praise, maybe a little pat on the head or shoulder. She’s just not good with giving or receiving affection but she still loves you very much!

b = beginning (what was the beginning of your relationship like?)

Hyun-ae is a chill person who doesn’t see romantic relationships that much different from normal friendships. She treats you the same as she did before you two got into a relationship in the beginning, she doesn’t feel the need to change everything drastically.

c = cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? how would they cuddle?)

Not much of an affection giver or receiver, but if you wanted to she would do it! Hyun-ae prefers to just go with the flow of things. I can see her not minding cuddles if you guys are watching a movie or something, normal acts of affection(hand holding, hugging) seem so awkward and stiff to her.

d = domestic (what’s domestic life with them like? do they plan on settling down?)

Hyun-ae is average in every aspect of household chores. She doesn’t put in all her effort, but she does keep everything clean and she’s decent at cooking. She doesn’t have her own opinion on marriage either, if you wanted to settle down, she would, and she would make sure that the wedding is everything you ever wanted.

e = ending (if you were to break up, how would it go?)

Hyun-ae wouldn’t beg for you not to leave. She’d be upset as she really does love you but I also don’t think she’d be surprised if you broke up with her. Her lax personality has been considered “boring” by many of her past lovers so she’d most likely be used to breaking up and how to cope and move on.

f = favorite (what’s their favorite thing to do with you?)

She loves those moments where you and her just sit and talk about literally anything. It’s a great way for you two to learn about each other and she really appreciates it when you let her ramble about her true crime cases.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, psychically, and emotionally?)

Hyun-ae’s a little blunt and sometimes dense and might do things that upset you accidentally. She never means to, but it happens. She’s average when it comes to physical affection, she’s firm, but not rough.

h = hugs (how do they feel about hugs? how often do they happen? what are their hugs like?)

Once again, not super big on physical affection, and hugs especially seem stiff to her. Maybe like a side hug or cuddle hugs are fine, but that’s stuff you gotta initiate otherwise she just doesn’t think of it.

i = i love you (when do they first say it? how often is it said?)

Hyun-ae isn’t afraid of her feelings towards you per-say, but she also doesn’t want to be rejected, so it’s most likely you who confesses first. Hyun-ae is super happy and says “I love you” a lot in the relationship, even though she may seem cool headed or uninterested.

j = jealousy (are they the jealous type? how jealous do they get? how do they act when they’re jealous?)

Nah, Hyun-ae trusts you. She trusts you to know how she is out of a relationship and in a relationship and if you had any problems she’s made it clear that she’d rather work them out and communicate with you about it instead. SHe doesn’t question your loyalty and she hopes you don’t question hers because she really truly does love you.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? how often do they happen? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

Hyun-ae is one of those people who doesn’t get super flustered by kisses and doesn’t see a big deal with them. She’s down to kiss you from the get go if that’s what you want. She doesn’t particularly care for them. You’re gonna have to initiate or ask for them if you want em, she doesn’t think about them often.

l = language (what’s their love language?)

Probably quality time, she enjoys just being near you and talking to you. She also likes acts of service, doing things for you to prove her love. She doesn’t really care about receiving love languages, she’d be fine with any.

m = morning (what are mornings like with them?)

Hyun-ae isn’t a morning person, she probably wakes up later than you and is an awful influence, trying to keep you in bed and away from work. 

n = night (what are nights like with them?)

I hope you don’t mind a little bit of light while you're sleeping, cause Hyun-ae will either be on her phone or computer browsing the internet and watching true crime videos. She does end up initiating cuddles when she’s ready to sleep.

o = open (are they an open book or more closed off?)

Definitely more closed off, she has a hard time really letting anyone into her heart. She’s never gotten so attached to someone as she has with you, part of that makes her want to open up to you more(tbf she has opened up to you more then she has with anyone else before) but that also makes her want to close herself off so when she inevitably loses you(At least in her mind you’re most likely going to leave her) it won’t hurt as bad.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

Hyun-ae has a lot of patience, maybe just a little less than Sanka honestly. She’s so relaxed and chill and it takes a long time to get under her skin(Unless you’re her mom)

q = quizzes (how much do they remember about you? do they remember every little detail or are they forgetful?)

Hyun-ae remembers a lot! During her little chats with you she listens very closely and reminds herself of all these things you like and dislike. Though, sometimes she may get information mixed up, she always checks back in with you if she’s ever uncertain about anything.

r = remember (what’s their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you and her accidentally stayed up all night watching true crime videos! If you became paranoid, Hyun-ae would feel bad and comfort you, but she would be extremely grateful and thank you for watching the videos with her. 

s = security (how protective are they? do they like being protected?)

Hyun-ae prefers to protect rather than be protected. She’ll try to get you away from harm, I don’t think she’d be able to physically protect you well, though, she does typically carry a taser and pepper spray on her so she would use that. She mainly focuses on comforting you and keeping you as calm as possible. 

t = try (how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc.?)

Hyun-ae is very chill, and so are her dates. Honestly she most likely lets you choose where you want to go as she doesn’t have much of an opinion either way, though sometimes she’ll recommend a dinner place or going to an arcade, or any museum that specializes in death, criminals, gorey stuff like that.

u = ugly (what’s a bad habit/trait of theirs?)

Hyun-ae has a hard time really letting people in and seeing a real side of her. She acts pretty uninterested during your friendship and relationship but she really does love you, she only hopes that her saying it enough times throughout the day conveys her true feelings for you. She also just goes with the flow which might make you question if her accepting your confession was just her agreeing and not actually having feelings for you(she does have feelings for you)

v = value (what’s their biggest priority regarding you in your relationship? ex: your safety, your happiness, etc.)

She wants the both of you to be happy, that's her main priority. Though she does value trust and communication a lot(If you trust her and communicate with her it makes her trust you and be more open about communicating)

w = whole (do they feel incomplete without you?)

Hyun-ae would be somewhere in the middle, above all else she really values your guy’s friendship, so even if you break up with her or just have never wanted to be in a relationship, she just wants to stay friends with you.She most likely would feel incomplete if she lost you entirely.

x = xtra (random headcanon!)

Has to set like 20 alarms in the morning if she even wants a chance of waking up. Surprisingly with how much of a heavy sleeper she is she’s never late to work!

y = yearn (what’s something they want from you but will never admit to?)

It’s not something Hyun-ae really WANTS from YOU it’s more so a want for HERSELF. Either way, she wants to be able to open up to you completely, give you her all and everything. When she opens up to you completely she’d most likely be more open, smiling more, being more open to physical affection, all the stuff she struggled with before.

z = zzz (what’s a sleep habit of theirs?)

Hyun-ae falls asleep on her side and then shifts in her sleep to lay on her back. She’s down to cuddle to sleep as mentioned before, but she might(and probably has before) roll over on you. She’s also a HEAVY sleeper.

[macchiatosdumptruck]

There’s always Mafia!AU’s + Omegaverse for Silverusso, but what about LaKreese? Any thoughts? I had this random idea that Alpha!John is Alpha!Terry’s right hand man for the Mob, and lately he’s been keeping an eye on the new Omega errand boy, Daniel. Not only because he thinks the kid is a spy, but because he’s falling for the kid big time, and is of course, big mad about it too. It ends up with John slipping and getting the brat with pup, and Daniel revealing he really was a spy for a rival mob, but joins forces with Terry’s gang for John’s sake. John later on always says he didn’t murder the boy only because he was carrying his pup, but really, it’s because he couldn’t bear to hurt Daniel despite the betrayal.

I see this and raise you the idea of Daniel being a mob baby while John is the no nonsense man of the law trying to take the family down, and meanwhile becomes smitten with the son, who is a tiny brat, and full of himself, but John just wants to see him make an honest life.

(because I was reminded that these pictures existed on this fine day.)

And maybe John wants to make an honest woman out of him too lol. (Not necessarily a/b/o. I feel like that's a common theme for John.)

But that version of Daniel probably wouldn't take well to such a simple, domestic life. At least not at first. He would probably get bored.

Back to the original concept though. (Now a/b/o)

John just wants to keep the kid safe. He doesn't know how to do that though without acting through force.

Terry only doesn't see the kid is trouble because he's soft on him. (And maybe John also wants to keep Daniel away from Terry because that means he'll get less of Terry's time, and he'll also lose his own shot at Daniel, not that he'd admit it. Because these three are always complicated with me.)

Daniel isn't with Terry in that way but John knows that he's always soft on the little spunky ones. They're soft.

It's not that he thinks Terry is dumb, John just knows how lost he can get over some folks.

Daniel only looks innocent. There's no way to be in this business if there isn't something sharp and acidic in your soul. Deep down somewhere.

"You think you're smart, don't you kid?" John says.

Daniel just blinks up at him with owlish eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about sir." And then his face breaks on a smirk. "I'd like to think I'm not so dumb though."

And John, as tough as he is isn't immune to the soft, sweet touch of an omega. So when John gets up in Daniel's business, there is one go-to way to distract the man, and it doesn't hurt that it feels damn good for Daniel as well.

God. John was thick all over. Dense. Warm. Covered in hair and littered with scars. He made Daniel want to run himself all over the man, that was when they weren't at each other's necks.

And John can't actually prove anything, but he knows the kid is up to something. Then one day the Barnes kid is on a routine pick up, and everything goes sideways. He has to spend a few days in the hospital, even though he fought like hell and took out a few of the other guys.

Again, there's no link to Daniel. It's not like it was exactly a secret that they operated out of that building, and Barnes was a hot head to begin with. An alpha stereotype maybe, but sometimes there was a grain of truth there. Put enough huffed up alphas in one spot and the kindling was sure to spark.

It doesn't change the way John looks at Daniel, eyes like an angry bulldog, and face set in stone. It doesn't change how Daniel looks back, guilt all over his face that he's doing a fair job of hiding. But not from John.

Later on when there's a lull in the day John excuses himself and finds Daniel holed up in the soda shop. It's only him, the waitress, and the cook. When John walks in he barks an order for them to leave and they're smart enough to listen.

Daniel hides his nerves behind his attitude.

"And what is this about John?"

John walks up to Daniel and yanks on his arm.

"I know you said something, I'm not sure what, but I know you did. I'll tell you this once, get lost or you'll wish you had. You hurt Terry again and even he won't be able to save you."

The kid looks up at him with his wide open face.

"You wouldn't lay a hand on the Omega carrying your child would you? Not a stand up alpha like yourself."

John freezes in shock for a moment, he's about to call bullshit when he smells it. There it is. Their smells have been lingering together for weeks now, Daniel's light, clean scent, reminiscent of green tea and lemons, mixing with John's musky cedar and tobacco.

But this is different. It's less like they're layered on top of one another and instead deeply infused.

Shit.

If John was slightly more honest with himself, if he had been a bit less distracted, if he had let himself give in to that crushing need for domesticity, for companionship--

He would've known sooner.

But this works for him because if Daniel is his omega he has to be loyal. That means John can keep an eye on him and a hand on the back of his neck. That he'll be tied to both John and Terry.

Later, when John has the kid pulled into his lap, grinding him down onto his knot as the boy cries with it and they're both sweating onto the cheap vinyl of the booth they had been sitting in, the door unlocked and anyone at all free to come in the empty diner, he realizes he should've done this sooner.

--

I imagine the first few years of their relationship is suitably angsty and full of turmoil. Of course keeping Daniel bred does calm the boy down, and it's not like he can go back to the Toguchi clan now that he was actually a member of the Cobras.

The secret is the two of them are actually very fond of one another but neither of them seem to be smart enough to realize.

Until one day when John has a close call that is truly, far too close, and they realize that they actually can't live without each other.

John reclaims Daniel that night and they have a proper ceremony with their two toddlers as the ring bearer and flower girl.

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

This isn’t the first time you’ve teleported, but it is the worst. You can’t imagine your condition would help much with the side effects, but you’re still not prepared for how violently the world switches directions in the blink of an eye, and keeps flipping about afterwards. It’s a fight to keep yourself upright as you fumble for support, and the moment your hands find a tree, you fling your arms around it, clinging for dear life as the earth below your feet violently tries to buck you off.

Note to self: Never do that when injured again. Forget the demons and wolf guards; you’re pretty sure that’s what’s come closest to killing you today.

You have no idea how long it takes to unscramble yourself, but eventually the pulsing in your head dies down and opening your eyes doesn’t threaten to make you sick. Okay, where are you now? You’ve gone from a frozen lake shore to a dense forest, still blanketed in snow and oppressively cold. The trees seem to stretch on forever in either direction, and even for nightfall, you can’t help but feel this place is unnaturally dark. Even without the thought of newly escaped demons running amok, stopping here certainly would not end well for you...

Well, nowhere to go but forward. With a last test of your balance, you gather yourself up once more and head deeper into the forest.

.

You could swear you’ve been through this clearing before. You have no idea how you’d know; the trees all look the same, and it’s too dark to make out any footprints on the forest floor. You can’t tell if you’re still a little disoriented or if you’re actually going in circles. You do your best to shake it off, and keep going.

.

Okay, you have to be going in circles. You still can’t prove it for sure, but either way it’s actually getting really irritating. The adrenaline that’s kept you going so far is starting to wear off, and you’re becoming painfully aware of the state of things. You’re tired, cold, and aching, wandering a world you barely understand with no one at your side. You have no one to blame but yourself for the mess you’re in--how painfully aware you are of that--but you still can’t help but feel helpless. And very, very alone.

You lean against the nearest tree, resting your head on an arm and shutting your eyes. (You want to kneel in respect, but you fear if you do that, you might not find the strength to get back up again). “If any of you still hear me,” you murmur, knowing full well your first real words on this mortal plain will likely fall on deaf ears, “please guide my way.”

The forest remains just as silent as it was before. But as you sigh in resignation, your senses are briefly whisked elsewhere. Little hands on a wet nose, inspiration swirling in red paint on white paper. You open your eyes to the phantom memories of moonlight on beetle shells and the smell of ground ink. The only solid thing left behind is that all too familiar feeling, once again roosting in the usual spot at the back of your mind.

A prophecy. Really? Now? As if you didn’t have enough you were wrestling with... Who are you even expected to deliver it to?

You glance around one more time, as if somehow you expect the forest to have changed around you, but eventually resign to just picking a direction and walking once more. You have nothing to support your choice but a gut feeling and a flickering faith, but it keeps you moving forward.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶

Prologue

Masterlist Previous | Next (Coming Soon) Notes: I wrote this story literally the month Baldur's Gate III first came out and never shared it out of nervousness, but here I am two years later, so I hope y'all like it! Warnings: swearing, brief and vague mentions of SA right off the bat, but fairly vanilla for the rest

-

My lungs burn with contractions. The pebbles, sharper than I’ve ever felt them, impale through the soles of my feet, leaving a throbbing wetness behind with every step I take, but I never still my legs from continuing forward.

I trusted him. All of those sweet lies I believed and now all I can feel is the ghost of his hands over my body. Though, I suppose in another world I should thank him. He presented me with a door. A door to get the fuck out of Baldur’s Gate and never return.

I can’t take another night of Eula’s pointless arguments, not another night of being locked away like a broom in a closet, waiting for the moment it’s useful enough to sweep away someone else’s mess. I’m not a child anymore, I see right through her. I know of her demand to control, but not of why. I’m not staying around long enough to discover it either.

I don’t need Zinnor anymore, not when I’m free now. He proved his usefulness to me when it was called for, but more importantly, he proved that he is just like all of the other city pigs when I needed to wake up the most. I’ve learned all that I can from this city, it’s time I make my own now. Maybe- maybe I’ll even return home, if there’s anything left of it. Wherever I’m to go, nothing can be worse than this.

My hand clutches the amulet around my neck, my feet never ceasing as I run through the dark alleyways. It’s time I discover who I am, what these powers mean, my true family. I will finally be free.

But then, there’s the gate.

Black Dragon Gate. It stands high, closed, and heavily guarded. The final obstacle to the rest of my life.

Typically, I’m expected ‘home’ by now. Has Eula begun searching for me? Did she track us back to his home? Has she found what I left behind of him? I swear I can feel her stalking me in the shadows. She’s always right behind me, feeding off of the suspense, like she’s waiting for just the right opportunity to strike. My heart beats in fear. My lungs can’t possibly expand any further in my corset, leaving me already exhausted even though I still have a long ways to go. She’s going to find me. She’s going to bring me back to that filthy hell hole and lock me there until my carcass rots into the stone floors.

I can’t breathe. Why is this corset so fucking tight?! Calm yourself, Eirla. This is nothing you haven’t done before, there’s just a lot more hanging on the balance. But don’t think about that part. I will not go back there, but I may not have the choice if I don’t quickly find a way to sneak past The Watch and into Blackgate.

My head peeks around the corner of the bricked building again, risking my safety for a chance to examine the surroundings. To my surprise, the guards are distracted. This is the perfect moment to get past, but it doesn’t solve the issue of the closed gate.

Like a gods damned miracle, I hear the whinny of a horse on the other side, the wheels of a carriage coming to a rocky stop. An importer. Oh, this is perfect. The bars of the dense gate creak and moan as they are lifted to make way for the carriage of goods. It’s now or never.

The shadows of the night do well to conceal me as I run on tipped toes towards the exit, ignoring the ever growing sting of gravel against the tight skin of my feet. I have to use a small opening between the wall and a guard to sneak behind in order to avoid his gaze. Even after years of training, it’s beyond me how I manage such situations with little problem.

I sneak past the guards, keeping my back against the stone wall, but then my breath catches in my throat when I hear that familiar creak and moan once more. My eyes avert straight above me, a multiple ton gate is about to come down directly onto my head. I have little choice but to dive out of the way, rolling through the sandy gravel as I feel the ground shake from the pointed iron bars as they slide snugly into their pockets in the ground.

I shake with anxiety as the guards on this side take an immediate notice of me and the commotion that I’ve just caused. Not a part of the plan.

“Get the hells out of here, you slum rat.” A woman cladded in heavy armor picks me up by the sleeve, only to send me tumbling back down as she throws me further away from the gate. I catch myself with a wince, landing right onto my elbow. “Go back to the corner you came from. Better not have slipped something off the cart either.”

Slowly, I stand, exposing my empty hands to her to prove I’ve taken nothing. Then, I make my body cower before her in a mask of fear and shame, but internally my heart reels in its success. “My apologies, Ma’am.” She thinks I’m attempting to sneak in, not out.

I turn away, hearing her scoff in disgust from behind me. “Damned refugee’s trying to sneak into the Upper City like we won’t catch them. Honestly, I’m sick of it. Wish the Duke would just set this damned town ablaze already, I didn’t take this job so I could be a mouse trap all day.”

As my back’s turned to her, I can’t stop a smile from raising on my cheeks. I did it. I finally fucking did it. No more living in the sewers. No more seducing just for a bite off of someone else’s plate. I get to make my own life. But now I’m confronted with the next, debatably bigger issue at hand. Where to now? And where would Eula never look? Would she come looking?

I keep my mouth shut and my eyes avert forward as I walk through Blackgate. I haven’t seen this town since Eula and I passed through after Waterdeep, so many years ago that had been and I’m in no rush to relive such memories. Even at night the streets are alive as ever, traders and beggars on every corner, all with the simple notion that they will one day make it into the city. Likely, will not. 

I walk slowly, contemplating my options. It’d be a stretch, but I could try to make it to Candlekeep, may even only take me a tenday if I find the right people. I’ve heard lots about their wizards and scholars, maybe they would have answers.

But as I ponder, a scream suddenly fills the air. The swoosh of a large body casts overhead. My feet make quick work to dodge under a canopy, immediately assuming the rare occurrence of a dragon judging by the noise, but as I look up I notice a ship. It looks as though made of raw flesh, husks, and antennae. It’s disgusting. I’ve never seen anything like it. Then it dawns on me. I haven’t read many books or seen many drawings of such a thing, assuming it wasn’t much of a threat, but now that it’s in front of me I know exactly what it is: Mindflayers.

My heart pounds harder than it did when I thought Eula was on my tail, I’m half convinced she found a way to send them after me. I hear another scream to my right. A man comes running in my direction, but then suddenly he turns to dust. I gasp in shock, cowering against the wall as another dust cloud appears to my left.

I want to close my eyes and pray to every god there is that I won’t be spotted, but I don’t dare keep my eyes off the chaos set before me. Then, I see the inevitable. A large gray appendage slithers its way back down onto the street inches from my feet, like it’s searching for me, like it senses me. Then it turns.

I have not even half a second to process my pure terror before it snaps towards me like a giant serpent and all turns black.

I was free to make my own life.

Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Could I ask you for more Freelancer Danny? I love his denseness (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Damian knew about Danny Fenton due to the multiple assassination attempts his mother had ordered on him. And how everyone had failed over the years as the man thawed whatever she sent out to kill him.

At first, Mother wanted to recruit Fenton, but he refused to join the great cause. He claimed he did not believe in their methods and would not serve a man like his Grandfather.

She later discovered that Fenton was the target of Father's affection and the main block between them, rekindling any romantic bond. Mother claimed she did not hate Fenton for this, as his parents wanted different things and views, but Damian did.

Damian could not stand a man who would think himself a better choice than Mother. He could not stomach the thought of Fenton being so powerful he could dismiss his family's organization as simply as rejecting a misbehaving dog.

How dare Fenton keep Mother away from his Father. Every day, Damian trained as hard as he could so that he could one day be able to best mother in combat and have the right to meet Father.

Then, he would work to defeat his Father so that he could demand Fenton's head on a platter. He had a long way to go, but Mother still attempted to kill the undeserving man while he grew more assertive.

Mother's assassination attempts began around the time Fenton had uncovered one of their youth training camps and set it ablaze. He had a problem training children to their limits, which made no sense to Damian. How else would those urchins become useful if they were not pushed past their limits?

Yes, a few of them died, but if they could not handle the training, there was no chance they could handle the actual missions. Fenton thought it was "cruel" and took all the children to an American orphanage that Father funded and ran.

Grandfather had been angry—angry more than Damian had ever seen in his young life. That training camp had been one of the first he had established; it had much history. Mother had assured him that she would make the attacker pay.

"Beloved will understand." She said, signing off on Fenton's death warrant. "He knows our ways."

That was that.

Until the people carrying Fenton's death warrant returned…in body bags with a note that read "Nice try" and a stylized white D underneath as a calling card, attached to each one.

That was four years ago. Damian is ten, has bested Mother, and is coming to meet Father. He had studied the fools Father had taken into the family.

He planned on taking out Drake first, for not only was he unworthy to be called Father's son, but even Grandfather had an eye on him. He needed to be handled before he grew to power.

Then, he would take out Fenton.

Fenton turned out to be rather insightful. Damian had been in the Wayne Manor—quant that it was. He thought his Father was supposed to be wealthy, but he had been forbidden from being seen in public.

It angered him to be treated as a secret. Again.

Before, he knew it was because Father was waiting for him to earn the right, as he needed to complete his training. He did.

He worked so hard to be the best. His mother and the man she spent years telling him was slightly less than his Grandfather refused to acknowledge him.

He disliked him.

Father's adoptive children treated Damian like a burden. Worst, Father treated him like an unstable bomb that was thrown on his lap like a common curd. Damian thought that he would have finally proved himself if he had just taken out Drake.

But the little insect turned out to be rather hard to kill off. Not to mention Todd, who had interfered more than once in his plans. Apparently, despite the fact that it was Fenton who had brought Drake to his Father—and not because Drake had any real skill—Todd thought the boy was an invaluable member of the team.

He did not think Drake was a danger to his position, which meant Todd was far too arrogant, and he did not have the skills to defend this mindset.

If Damian could not beat Drake, what hope would he have for Todd?

Fenton, on the other hand, treated Damian with respect. He considered his position and never made Damian feel wrong for his upbringing.

If anything, Fenton seemed delighted to listen to his stories of Mother and his homeland.

Damian, at first, had been free with his words. He was purposely throwing in comments of blades, screams, and blood. Fenton, in turn, told him the tales of growing up with his parents producing weaponry in the basement and the number of times he had to dodge a blast from something lying about in the house.

When Damian informed him of his training, Fenton applauded his abilities instead of pitying him for living through it.

Fenton then took him to a zoo. Damian had always been fond of animals, a weakness he attempted to hide. He could not exactly contain his urge to walk around the whole place, rolling his eyes when Fenton made a mistake on facts regarding the beats and spending an entire afternoon correcting him.

Fenton had not once dismissed or babied him. Unlike his servants, who are forced to listen to him, he seems genuinely happy to hear Damian speak. Strangely, Fenton even took Damian's training seriously, helping him sharpen his spy abilities by helping him go undercover in various settings.

Father had wanted him behind closed doors, but Fenton took him bowling, around the city, to the soup kitchen, multiple animal shelters to venture, and even to see various art museums. Whenever he asks Damian to explain his hostility to Drake, he reminds him that he would not be allowed to harm Drake.

He pointed out multiple reasons, but unlike when his Father, Grayson, Todd or even Pennyworth did, Fenton reframed from using emotions. He understood that where Damian was from, the weak deserved to be crushed to move up.

"You just have to remind yourself that you're not there anymore," Fenton said over a Tabbouleh. Fenton had tracked down one of the few Arabic restaurants in Gotham because Damian mentioned how he missed his county's food.

It warmed his chest in a way he only associated with his Mother when Fenton drove them there. "A good warrior adapts to his new settings and social customs. You aren't a mercenary."

Damian's nose wrinkled. "Those are the harlots of the world of warriors."

Fenton waved his fork at him. "They'll kill anyone for a dollar. They're far too easy to open their blades. Like their legs."

Damian ducked his head to hide the giggle that slipped out. They returned to the Wayne Manor to find Drake packing a bag. He returned to grab more clothing since he was still staying with Fenton. It was for his safety as Damian posed a real threat to his life.

For a moment, the blood son wondered if he could sneak up on him and slash his throat before Drake knew he was there, but then he thought about what Fenton said and chose to walk up to the teenager. "I shall allow you to live."

Drake froze. "Thank you?"

He nods, placing his arms behind his back. "I can still defeat you in combat. You breathe at my mercy."

Saying his piece, Damian glances over his shoulder, watching Fenton beam. The warm feeling returns as the man seems proud of him for not taking the chance to replace Drake.

Behind him, Father also smiles as if pleased. It's the first time he has ever looked at Damian that way. It was due to Fenton's advice and gentle guidance.

Fenton wasn't so bad after all.

He would refrain from plating his head for now, until he had enough information and experience to blend in with the American crowd and earn his Father's approval.

[optimiticsolarpunk]

How We Saved Ourselves

This is a short story I wrote in June 2024 about what I see as a potential future for how humans solve the climate crisis:

In 2022, the Inflation Reduction Act barely passed in Congress in the United States. The IRA was the name given to the biggest climate bill the United States had ever dreamed of passing. It was a miracle bill in some ways, one that a year or two earlier, climate activists wouldn't have dreamed would actually pass.

No Republicans supported it, so the Democrats needed every single member to vote for it in the Senate, or it was dead. Joe Manchin, the Democrat from West Virginia almost didn't vote for it, which would have killed the bill. "It's a miracle I'm even here," he would say, for being a Democrat from a deeply Republican state. In a way it sort of was a miracle, but he was there and they needed his vote. After lots of haggling, and periods when he said he wouldn't vote for it, then he would, now he won't again, Manchin came around, and the deal was done. It was all very dramatic (don't say it's dramatic...show how it's dramatic.  If you show it, overtly stating it is unnecessary).

The bill was massive, and was designed to attract billions, even trillions of dollars of private capital, or money from companies, to solve the climate crisis and save the world. They knew that the bill by itself wouldn't actually save the world, but the idea was to start the momentum, and prove to businesses that investing in climate solutions was where the markets were headed, so it would be a smart investment for them. There was a lot of money to be made saving the world, and no one wanted to miss out on it. And why not, you get to be a hero and make money, what's not to love?

By 2024, it was working, and billions of dollars started flowing into climate solutions. Massive solar projects went up. Giant offshore wind farms were under construction, pumping power to millions of homes on the densely populated East Coast.

In 2026, troves of money flowed into startup companies with big ideas for how to capture carbon, build an electrical vehicle transportation system, convert our heating and cooling to electricity and generate all this electricity without releasing carbon.

There were haters. Change is hard. "What if we don't like looking at the solar panels or wind turbines?" they would ask themselves. But as the first projects finished, they would look around and say "Well, this isn't so bad. And it's pumped a lot of money into our town and made lots of jobs." Early technology can take time to mature, so the electric alternatives were not always up to par with their fossil fuel cousins. But humans are incredible engineers, and technology improved so fast that the fossil fuel legacy tech was quickly left in the dust.

Some oil and gas companies even got in on the fun. They would think, "Well we are just energy companies. If the future energy of society is solar and wind, we'll do that too." They built massive renewable energy projects all over the world. They also got lots of tax breaks for these projects, so it was easier to get the shareholders' support. But of course, not all of them were so excited about it.

Some oil and gas companies didn't want to loose the record profits they were making from selling oil and gas. They wanted to stop renewable energy as quickly as possible, and keep fossil fuels as the dominant currency of the world economy. So they started a hidden campaign to fund what were made to look like grass roots campaigns of voters rallying against renewable energy projects. These campaigns could be very successful - at one point they had even convinced a growing audience that wind farms were killing whales. It was hard to disprove, but eventually the scientists showed enough data that the people came around. Solar was a little harder to attack, but you could always try to convince people they were ugly.

A leading presidential candidate even promised oil executives that if they donated $1 billion to his campaign, he would undo all the climate laws, ensuring the dominance of oil and gas for the foreseeable future.

The stages were set for a fierce battle. Oil and gas companies convinced a huge swath of the population that the looming climate crisis was confusing enough that we shouldn't make any drastic changes. On the other side, the data continued to pile up painting a clearer and clearer picture of the existential threat to humanity. Scientists pushed the population to make the big changes that were necessary to survive. A formidable percentage of humans looked at the data and joined the scientists' group to push through solutions to the climate crisis. The war for the future of humanity was raging. On one side: the oil and gas companies and their supporters. On the other side: the scientists and their supporters.

For years, the oil companies and their supporters were winning easily. There was just too much money coming in, and they bought victory anywhere they could. Politicians were a major lifeline - without laws like the IRA, private companies would not be willing to take on all the risks of the energy transition by themselves. In some cases, with enough money, you could even get politicians to make laws that helped prevent the energy transition, such as blocking renewable energy projects.

To counter this, scientists continued publishing the data they were gathering that showed the horrible destruction that would come if humans didn't change course. Some of the people on the side of the oil companies decided it wouldn't be so bad if some legislation was passed that helped clean up the air and water. "Why not?" they would ask themselves.

Scientists used their data to determine that humanity had until 2050 to stop adding ANY more greenhouse gases. The world had to be carbon neutral.

Storms, wildfires and droughts raged with increasing destruction across the globe. Millions of people died. Scientists tried hard to keep their predictions realistic and moderate, so they would be less susceptible to attacks on their data and predictions from the opposing side. This meant, however, that in many cases the destruction was actually worse than they predicted.

The world had three options: One was to continue burning fossil fuels for energy and end in a world of suffering and destruction. The second was to convince everyone to give up electricity, cars, and modern life. The third option was to build an enormous number of renewable energy projects around the world. Option one, continuing with fossil fuels, didn't actually solve the problem. And not many people wanted to give up modern life. So renewable energy it was.

In 2015, at a huge gathering in Paris, the world had set goals for how to solve the climate crisis, based on the scientists' data. The Paris Accord, as it would be called, set goals to build an increasing number of renewable energy projects, to replace the fossil fuel power plants that were spewing carbon into the atmosphere, causing the climate crisis. Scientist said that if humans around the world could follow these goals, by 2050 we could avoid the most catastrophic destruction.

In 2027, the world was far behind the goals. That's not to say there wasn't progress. Bills similar to the IRA began passing in countries around the world. Renewable energy technology got better, more efficient and cheaper. Electric cars became cheaper than gas cars; better and faster too.

One reason for the slow progress was that many of the people on the side of scientists began to feel like it was hopeless. There wasn't enough progress, and why were the oil companies still winning? Without the fire of optimism and inspiration, it was hard to get motivated to help.

And the oil companies were as powerful as ever. They could control the price of oil and gas by constraining their production, so they could drive the price up anytime they wanted. This led to record profits.

By 2029, the destruction had gotten worse, but it was mostly in the global south and Americans didn't really care that much about it. The destruction increased in the US too, but the oil company team explained it away as just another bad storm; nothing new. Some items had gotten really expensive, like coffee and chocolate, because of droughts in other parts of the world. But usually the current president was blamed.

There was hope. The number of renewable energy projects began to grow exponentially every year.

Engineers invented floating wind turbines, which meant we didn't run out of space for these projects, you could just float them further out to sea. Huge subsea cables brought this power back to land to distribute it deeper and deeper in land.

By 2030, a huge number of offshore wind farms far out in the Atlantic and Pacific provided enough power for every coastal state and more. During the most windy parts of the day, these wind farms produced more power than could actually be used. Advances in battery and storage meant this extra power charged giant energy storage facilities, giant batteries from which energy would be released when the wind died down.

Nuclear energy also made a comeback. People liked nuclear energy because it didn't release carbon and was not intermittent. The power was always there whether or not the sun was shining or the wind was blowing. The plateau in nuclear power plants that happened toward the end of the 20th century gave way to a big increase in small modular reactors, a fourth generation nuclear technology that allowed for smaller and much safer reactors. These were cheap and easy to build, eliminating many of the negative aspects of the first generations of nuclear power plants. The early nuclear plants from the 20th century didn't have safe technology and there were enough catastrophes that held the power source at bay until these safer technologies emerged.

Inland, massive solar farms were built in the deserts and onshore wind farms on the plains. Renewable energy projects generated enormous amounts of electricity. Giant energy highways carried electricity from renewable energy projects along cables to load centers all over the country. Fossil fuels became less important.

The companies building these projects became very rich. Oil companies noticed. More and more oil companies defected to the side of the scientists, deciding to become part of the solution instead of the problem. The money they made helped with the decision. They shut down their oil operations and began building renewable energy projects instead.

At first the team with the scientists were suspicious of these defectors from the opposing team. After all, they had been the ones causing this massive problem, why should they be forgiven so quickly? Shouldn't they all be put in jail, or worse?

But these ex-oil companies worked hard to prove that they were serious about becoming part of the solution. Each oil field they closed had a real positive impact on saving humanity. Eventually, the scientist team came around and accepted them. These companies had the power and money and knowhow to be valuable team members.

The 2050 deadline to stop emitting greenhouse gases loomed. The science had become very clear that the situation was dire. The destruction that raged around the world made their research more visceral.

By 2040, the team of oil companies was hemorrhaging members. Most employees wanted to be part of an inspiring future. Executives of any company that hadn't switched sides and had deliberately delayed progress on the climate crisis were being jailed in some parts of the world. Protests had become so effective that these individuals often could not appear in public. Boycotts and bans on anyone investing with these oil companies made life very difficult. Profits became thinner and thinner, life became harder and harder.

Life on the other team, with the scientists, was getting sweeter and sweeter. Renewable energy had become so ubiquitous that for most people it was essentially free. You could ride electric transportation as much as you wanted and get anywhere you wanted, pollution free. Cities had been transformed into green spaces with parks, bike lanes and playgrounds. No one paid to heat or cool their houses - technology made sure it was done efficiently. On nice days, you could program your house to automatically turn off the air conditioning and open the windows.

In 2045, a consortium of the last remaining oil companies in the world consolidated all it's members into one giant oil company, called United Petroleum. They entered a siege mentality to hold strong with oil. Oil was not the only product in which the company was invested, they had found plenty of profits mining minerals, many of which were used in renewable energy projects. They also built carbon capture projects, which had become very popular and profitable and genuinely contributed to reducing the amount of carbon in the atmosphere.

In early 2048 the board of United Petroleum elected a young new CEO named Nancey Lopez; an ambition upstart that had opposed the siege mentality. Within her first six months, she implemented sweeping changes, not all of them popular among the employees. Then, on June 8, 2049 she made a major speech to the entire company. She announced that United Petroleum was shutting down it's last oil fields. They would no longer be selling fossil fuel-based products. Instead, they were shifting their remaining resources into minerals, carbon capture and emerging climate tech. The name was being changed from United Petroleum to United Energy.

Ms. Lopez had worried about the employees' reaction at the announcement - would they revolt and call for her ouster? Instead, the moment she made the announcement, the crowd burst into cheers. It had been hard for these employees to be on the losing team, selling a product everyone hated. Now they were entering an exciting new phase of the company. Maybe they would even be cool again, coming up with innovations that would make life better for people.

The news swept the world rapidly. Headlines read: Last Oil Field to be Shuttered and World Enters New Post-Oil Era. The news was greeted with jubilation from every corner of the globe. The company that had been a piryah since it's inception became an inspiring symbol of humanity's ability to adapt and change. Ms. Cole's status skyrocketed and she traveled the world giving speeches.

With no fossil fuels to burn, emissions of greenhouse gases disappeared. Humans had saved themselves at the very last minute. For decades, scientists had been saying that emissions would need to cease by 2050. Humans had done it without a moment to spare. In July 2049, a month after the big announcement from Ms. Cole, the world began preparing for a worldwide celebration for January 1, 2050.  Called World Day, it became the first official international holiday observed annually across the globe.

But the change didn't stop there. For so many years, humans had dumped greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, and a huge amount had accumulated. Now it had to be cleaned up. The carbon capture projects that had been built leading up to 2050 helped do that, and more were built to help speed up the process.

A global movement to bring green vegetation to cities around the world blossomed. These cities taught each other best practices, and soon native plants and trees proliferated in cities and towns from Johannesburg to Beijing, from Guatelajera to Riyad. Growing healthy food in community gardens became a fashionable practice.

The years of work to solve the climate crisis had taught humans other valuable skills as well. Advanced technology and artificial intelligence made most work optional, so building community became a central theme for humans around the world.

The renewable energy projects that powered all this advanced technology continued to pump out power day after day. The technology had become so advanced that robots could repair and replace anything when it broke or wore out.

Some people found a lot of purpose developing even more advanced technology that could help species be healthier, happier and to thrive. They found new ways to help bring the Earth to a healthy harmony with nature. The ocean began to team with life, nursed back to a thriving ecosystem. Forests full of animals existed within major cities.

On World Day in 2200, a documentary was released that took the world by storm. Titled Saving Ourselves, it told the dramatic story of humans in the 21st century who had taken the Earth to the brink of destruction, only to save it at the last minute. Everyone had learned the story in school, but there was something about how the story was told in the documentary that made it hard to look away. While no one was alive who remembered the actual events leading up to 2050, the shocking drama of the story captivated the world. After the movie, communities would gather and celebrate the wonderful world they had created.