#it’s wildly emotional and so electric

[shrinkthisviolet]

your reblogs made me so curious about Bridgerton and Kanthony, i started watching yesterday and started with season 2 directly, although i know a bit about season 1. and i so so so love Kate, she's so good, i'm saying that while only having seen 3 episodes but i loved her at the first shot, that introduction was amazing.

i just wanted to tell you and thank you for that <3

Ahhh I’m so glad I could get you into it! And same—I jumped in after only watching an s1 recap, and I too adore Kate 🥰

Also their chemistry is so electric, it’s so fun to watch Simone and Jonathan (the actors) doing their thing onscreen. The story gets messy and weirdly convoluted in places (and there are definitely some things I’d change if I was writing it), but overall, they’re so amazing together 💞 they truly make the season something spectacular.

[aphroditelovesu]

yandere anne boleyn secretly seeing you headcanons!

❝ 🌹 — lady l: this is a really soft and sweet treat, but I wanted something like this for Valentine's Day, so here it is! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes. ❤️🥰

❝tw: none, just fluff.

❝🌹pairing: soft yandere!anne boleyn x gender neutral!reader.

It had been weeks since you and the Queen exchanged glances and smiles when you thought no one was watching. You knew this was a dangerous game, you knew the Queen's reputation was tarnished by scandalous and dubious rumors, but that didn't matter to you, not when you found yourself fascinated more and more by her.

During one night, a night that you both knew Henry would be too busy with one of his mistress to care about his wife, Anne finally made the first move. She invited you to meet her in one of the gardens, in a dark and private place.

Against your better judgment, you accepted and that's how you ended up in the garden, with a dark veil covering you and carrying a small candle in your hand so that it wouldn't be completely dark. You only stopped walking when you saw the firelight of another candle, indicating who you were going to meet.

The garden was enveloped in a solemn silence, interrupted only by the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. It was a little unnerving, but you carried on. Holding the candle carefully, you approached the light that danced in the distance, indicating the presence of Anne Boleyn. Your heart beat wildly, a mixture of excitement and apprehension permeating your thoughts.

When you found her, her face illuminated by the flickering flame, everything around her seemed to fade away. Her eyes, shining with a captivating intensity, met yours, and for a moment the world seemed to freeze around you. There was a flame, a spark that shone in the Queen's beautiful blue eyes and you found yourself mesmerized.

"You came." Her voice, a soft whisper charged with emotion, broke the silence. Her presence exuded an irresistible magnetism, enveloping you in a spell you didn't want to escape.

"How could I resist such a tempting invitation, especially from my Queen?" You replied, your tone tinged with a hint of playfulness, as you approached her.

Anne smiled, her lips curving in a charming gesture, and then, on an irresistible impulse, you reached out to touch her. The contact was electric, sending waves of heat through your body as you lost yourself in the fleeting moment. Without thinking twice, she brought her body closer to yours and took your lips in a passionate kiss.

For a brief moment, the weight of responsibilities and consequences disappeared, replaced by the pure and intense connection between you. Under the cover of darkness, you were just two beings lost in the forbidden labyrinth of love. Anne's grip became tighter and more possessive, her arms not wanting to leave you for any moment.

It was just the two of you and that was more than perfect for Anne. You made her feel loved and wanted again and the thought of meeting you in the dead of night excited her in a way nothing before had. She never wanted this moment to end, desperately wanting to keep you in her arms.

But even in the dim light, the time was relentless, and the outside world began to intrude on your temporary refuge. With a reluctant sigh, you separated, aware of the lines that bound you and the consequences that awaited beyond the garden's boundaries. Anne didn't want to let you go, but she knew she had to. She couldn't risk you being accused of treason and ending up dead. She shuddered just at the thought of it.

"Until next time." You whispered, your heart heavy with the uncertainty of the future. You just knew you would have to see her more often, your body and your heart were begging for it. They begged for Anne's touch.

Anne nodded, her eyes capturing yours with a silent promise, before disappearing into the darkness. You had a feeling this wouldn't be the first time you'd met her. A story between you was about to happen, but would it have a happy ending? Only time will tell.

[kellterntempest]

I was summoned to be a ringer by @panic-flavored for her 2023 Stobotnik Secret Santa event

And so here is your gift @cease-this-bitch-crying <3 "Affection like hugging & hand holding" have some touch starved jimbotnik and hand kissing i hope you enjoy!!

mini ficlet accompaniment below

Stone slowly tugged the fabric off each finger of Robotnik's hand. Delicately, deliberately, as if the hands beneath were made of fragile porcelain.

Stone paused, looking into Robotnik's dark eyes. Is this ok? His own eyes asked.

Robotnik's fingers brushed against Stone's palm in response, barely making skin contact, almost afraid to touch and be burned. But the touch was not the burning sensation he feared, but instead a spreading tingling like the aftermath of an electric shock. Invisible sparks – Robotnik swore he could feel them.

One glove. Stone folded and placed it on the counter beside them, to be easily taken back if Robotnik became too overwhelmed and needed them again.

The second glove came off, and Robotnik’s heart rate already started to climb. His hands were bare now, nothing hidden. Stone’s hands clasped gently over his, caressing the skin with his thumbs.

Stone allowed himself to look, to feel, to finally worship the hands of his king, his one. As he took in the sight of Robotnik's hands, memorizing every detail, Stone traced a pattern with his fingers, tracing over very white, pinkish scar, over the visible and dark veins, over the rough knuckles of the long bony fingers. 

Stone lifted Robotnik's left hand up to his mouth, bowed his head, and kissed it. His lips were beyond soft, warm, and adoring.

Robotnik fought the gasp in his shaking lungs, but his chest couldn't hold it in. It was the stolen breath of a man who had never been kissed like this, never been shown this kind of tenderness, this careful gentleness – a man who had been starving his whole life. So, so hungry, and the abyss of his hunger was unfathomable. Robotnik never knew just how much his hunger had been suppressed, didn't realize how far down he had repressed his need for human touch until he finally received it. Finally feeling. 

Robotnik’s heart beat so fast, like an untamed creature flying against the bars of its cage so wildly he thought it would burst. The kick drum in his chest beat asymmetrical to the rhythm of their slow, ever so slow moment. His hands quickly began to tremble in Stone’s grasp.

Stone’s heart raced in tandem with Robotnik’s as he placed another kiss on his knuckles, harder than before. “I love your hands.” He whispered into the skin, unable to find any other words that could possibly describe the depths of his feelings. Stone was consumed with joy to show his love and more so for it to be accepted, he couldn't contain himself and planted more gentle kisses along the skin of Robotnik's palm up to his wrist.

I love your hands. Robotnik's eyes welled up, much to his disdain for the stupidly human emotions plaguing him. But he couldn't stop it, and tears pooled in the corner of his eyes, ignoring his internal struggle to not give anything away. He nearly whimpered under Stone’s touch, but there he stayed strong, and instead managed to choke out, “Thanks. I grew them myself.”

Stone chuckled into his hand, his chest quivering with laughter from the unexpected joke. Of course, the doctor had to make light of everything. It was his way, to conceal heaviness with humor.

“Exceptional work, sir.” Stone's eyes twinkled. “Beautiful.”

[uceyjuceyyy]

Can we get a smutty Jey 🥵

Maybe something like make up sex after a argument

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing this, thanks for requesting!🫶🏽

Paring: Jey Uso x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Language, body fluids, A bit of Angst, 18+

Word Count: 1,792

Your pov-

As my eyes adjusted to the dim morning light. I tentatively lifted the hem of my shirt, revealing my bare legs and the thin strap of my black thong underwear. Slowly, I turned my head to the side, heart pounding. There he was. Back home after the fact ive waited for him until 1am.

Jey lay next to me on his back, muscular arms folded casually behind his head, rising and falling with each deep breath. His smooth, tattooed skin seemed to glow in the soft light. Though relaxed in sleep, his full lips retained their natural deep pink hue. I studied his face and body, simultaneously hoping and fearing that if he had his dick up some groupie, I’d beat his ass.

As if sensing my gaze, Jey's eyes fluttered open. He turned his head to look at me drowsily. "Mornin'," he mumbled, stifling a yawn. 

"When did you-?" I began, but couldn't bring myself to finish the thought aloud. 

"Get home?" Jey interjected bluntly. "3am." 

He sat up, the sheets falling away to reveal his chiseled abs. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering along the deep grooves and curves of his torso. 

"You always stay out so damn late" I said, a defensive edge in my tone.

Jey's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance. "Bruh, i told you sometimes i'm late cause the show lasts till 11, 12 at most."  

I bristled, anger rising hot inside me. "Fucking excuses!"

Scoffing, Jey raked a hand through his tousled hair. "You childish as hell," he muttered derisively. 

Now I was livid. I rose up on my knees in the bed until I was hovering over him. "I'm childish?" I retorted. "I ain't the one coming home all hours of the night even when I'm not at damn work!" 

Jey's expression shifted, eyes softening. "Chill ma," he said gently. "I got caught up in some shit, ion wanna do this wit you."

I wanted to cling to my anger, but it was already dissipating in the face of his unexpected sincerity. Still, I wasn't ready to forgive. "Whatever," I huffed dismissively, looking away.

"I mean it. I know I get back late but it aint never on no sneaky shit."

My emotions churned wildly out of control. Before I realized what I was doing, I had straddled his waist and wrapped a hand around his throat, squeezing. I thought I had power over him, but quickly he mirrored the action, his large hand encircling my slender neck. We stared into each other's eyes, faces inches apart. 

"I hate you," I ground out through clenched teeth, gripping him tighter.

Jey's eyes darkened, his full lips drawing back to reveal his grillz. "Say that shit again," he growled.  My heart pounded erratically as I repeated the words. "I hate you."

Jey's fingers flexed against my throat. I could feel him hardening beneath me, and despite our anger, desire coursed through me like electricity. Our breaths came harsh and fast, bodies tense. But underneath the rage simmered a passion that terrified and exhilarated me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to kiss him or kill him. Maybe both.

His lips came crashing down onto mine, forcing my mouth open as his tongue invaded past my teeth. Our tongues wrestled for dominance as he deepened the passionate kiss. I couldn't stop myself from giving in to the forbidden desire that raged within me. Lust and adrenaline coursed through my veins as our lips meshed together. 

Suddenly, he broke off the steamy kiss, his dark eyes narrowing as they bore into mine. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice low and gravelly. I placed my hands on his firm chest and gave him a forceful shove, causing him to fall back into the pillows with a soft thud. Before he could react, my hand came down in a stinging slap across his cheek. 

"I hate you!" I yelled, my chest heaving. A sly smirk spread across his face at my words, his eyes growing even darker with illicit need. His strong hands grasped my hips roughly and guided my body to grind against the hard bulge in his pants. I couldn't stop the breathy moan that escaped my lips at the feel of his huge, pulsing dick pressing against my most sensitive area. The friction felt so unbelievably good that I found myself grinding down harder, my body betraying how much I craved his touch despite my words.

I long to feel more of him, to connect with him fully, body and soul. Reaching down in desperate need, I pull his boxers off, exposing him completely. He responds in kind, tearing off my thong in one swift motion. His dick stands erect before me, thick and proud, covered in pulsing veins that speak to his arousal. I estimate him to be nine inches or more, capped with a blushing pink tip. Unable to resist any longer, I press my aching pussy against his rigid dick. He lets out a guttural moan at the contact, gasping "fuuuuckk..." As I begin to rock my hips, enveloping him in my slick heat, his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. 

"I want you, I need you inside," I plead breathlessly, my movements becoming more urgent. He looks up at me through heavy lids, his full lips parted in pleasure. "I know, I know," he groans, even as his body tenses with restraint. 

He rises up to meet my lips in a kiss both soft and sorrowful, an acknowledgement of our predicament. I wrap my legs tightly around his waist, clinging to him as we find a rhythm together. Our bodies melt and fuse, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding with frustrated passion. I am dripping with need, ready to come undone, as he throbs hot against me. 

Jey’s pov-

This woman gon’ be the death of me, I swear. I gaze into her tantalizing, chocolate brown eyes, getting lost in her sexy ass. I can't help but admire her voluptuous form in all its glory. Yea, im lookin’ at yo fine ass, lookin’ at every curve and contour. I need to fuck you, cuz you mine and mine only. I know I fuck up and pissed her off, but seeing the fire in her eyes makes me wanna fuck her non-stop. I desperately need to feel her body against me, to be inside that pretty pussy. 

"Daddy needs this pussy," I moan huskily, overcome with lust. Her eyes flutter shut as she lets out a breathy moan, the faintest whisper of my name escaping her lips. She grinds against me harder, driving me wild with need. She’s soaked with anticipation, her juices flowing freely on my dick. "You can hate me all you want, but Daddy gotta claim this pussy again, mama," I growl possessively, my need for her overwhelming me. Imma make her feel it, take over this pussy, protect her and fuck the anger outta’ her. Fuck them consequences. She has this type of power over me that I can't control, body and soul, and I ain't stoppin’ ‘til I get every inch of her. I need her.

Her body jolted as I gently slid into her, our flesh merging into one entity. A soft gasp escaped her lips, her eyes fluttering as we became whole. "Josh..." she breathed, voice thick with desire, that shits sexy as fuck i wanted to nut in her already. I grip her ass, guiding her along my dick, our rhythmic dance building momentum. My palm caressed her cheek, turning her gaze to meet mine. "this yo dick, you hear me? And dis my pussy, imma make dat shit known," I growled, primal need taking over. She moaned, “It- yes- this your pussy, fuck,”  her agreement, writhing beneath me. I flipped us over, pinning her with my weight, our bodies working in perfect sync. We moved as one, her gasps and my grunts harmonizing. I thrusted deeper in that pussy, determined to make her fully and completely mine.

As I begin to slowly grind my thick, swollen dick into her soft, wet pussy, I tease her with long, circular motions, eliciting a deep moan from within her chest. "Mmm, that's it ma... Daddy deep inside his pussy," I groan through gritted teeth. She lets out a desperate whimper in response, her voice breathy and needy, "Yes Daddy, please... I've needed you so bad." My dick twitches inside her with excitement at the way she's talking to me. "Mmm fuck yes, keep talking like that baby. You gettin’ Daddy's dick so fucking hard," I tell her, my voice gravelly and filled with lust. 

her walls grippin’ me like fuck. She's so fucking sexy, so beautiful... and I keep fucken up. Out of everyone, I had fucked up with, her - the one person who actually deserve my time. I know I need to tell her how I really feel, right here and now. As I continue my steady, deep strokes within her, I caress her cheek softly, our eyes connecting. "It's gon’ be okay, baby. We gon’ be okay. I ain't going nowhere, I promise you that, I'm sorry" I confessed to her. Her eyes begin to water slightly at my words as she gazes up at me vulnerably. "You promise?" she whimpers, her voice shaky with emotion. I press my body against hers fully, driving myself even deeper within her. "I promise, baby. I promise," I assure her, meaning every word.

Your pov-

He thrusts deeper and faster into me, consuming my entire being. I cried out in ecstasy, gasping as I clawed at his back. "You gonna cum for daddy?" he growled, increasing his pace. "Oh god, yes!" I screamed in pleasure. "Cum with me, please!" I begged him desperately. I rocked my hips to meet his urgent rhythm. The sounds of our colliding bodies and wetness filled the room as he drove himself into me repeatedly until I couldn't take it anymore. "I'm cumming!" I cried out. "Me too," he groaned, the sound sending shivers through me. Our hearts pounded as we climaxed together. Breathless, he collapsed on top of me, his release pulsing inside. Finally he rolled off and lay by my side. Jey gently pulled me to his side so that I was laying on his warm chest. I began to run my hand up and down his chest, “do you mean it?” I asked him as I shot my gaze towards him. He sat up just a bit to see me, “I am mama. We gon’ be okay. Imma do better baby.” he said. I sat up to meet his face as my lips met his. “I love you,” I said. “I love you more baby,” he replied.

[ughgoaway]

hi ace!!

"you can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself.“ with teacher!au would be sooo hot😋

hi, my love!! thanks for requesting this, I had fun trying to work out what to do for this one. hope you enjoy!! 18+ only please, mdni!!

content warnings; arguing (with Jamie lol), fingering, joint fingering swearing, use of a mirror, and light spit play.

word count; 2.4k ish!

p.s, I'm quite rusty with writing, so I'm really sorry if this sucks!!! this has been proofread, but I'm so bad at seeing errors so sorry if there's loads lol <3

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“Oh fuck off Jamie, that’s not what we agreed and you know it.” Matty huffs down the phone. you hear Jamie raise his voice on the other side even from across the room, so you know something really fucked him off, and he clearly blames Matty.

Matty seems just as pissed off with him, rolling his eyes and pacing at the end of the bed as he speaks, “Don't talk to me like I'm a child. Jesus Christ. Just- okay- I'm hanging up now. No, I don't care, Jamie! It's not my fucking fault you cant organise shit!” every word exchanged between them is getting gradually louder, and Matty’s hands start moving wildly as red hot words erupt from him.

You sit against the headboard and watch Matty get more and more irate with every second, and you can't deny it's making you feel something. Maybe it's because he's generally a calm huy, despite what people may think. Or, calm at home anyway. Not so calm when he's screaming about fascist governments on stage. The boys always joked that fatherhood mellowed him out, and from the stories you heard, that sounds about right.

But seeing him growing angrier by the second makes your skin tingle, that same electricity you feel when he’s on top of you whispering filthy demands into your ear. Suddenly, the fabric of your pyjamas feels scratchy against your skin, begging to be slid off and thrown onto the bed beside you. Without thinking, your hand slides under your top, rubbing against the overheated skin of your stomach as your pinky finger dips below the hem of your shorts gradually.

“What a twat,” Matty starts to rant as he marches over to you, staring down at his phone with a frown on his face. “He’s annoyed at ME just because he can't organise anything! I told him I couldn't do next weekend and still-” Matty stops dead in his tracks when he finally reaches you, his eyes tracing over your face and studying you suspiciously. 

“You alright love? Your cheeks are all red,” he says worriedly, his hand coming up to feel your forehead. You can't help but lean into his touch. The feeling of his skin on your was charged with something, making the flush covering your skin darken immediately.

It's then that Matty realises why your cheeks are a pretty shade of ruby woo and why your once calm eyes are black with an emotion he didn't immediately recognise. You want him. Something about seeing him shouting down the phone made you horny. He couldn't help but smirk at the realisation, already forming a plan in his head as he slid into bed next to you.

Instinctively, you move towards him, trying to feel the warmth of his body against yours. But before you can throw your leg over his, Matty guides you between his legs, facing you towards the end of the bed and pressing his chest against your back. His hands immediately start moving over your body, massaging your arms and shoulders before moving further down slowly.

He pulls up the hem of your shirt slightly, only showing a few inches of skin, but it's enough to make you gasp, leaning into his touch and sighing blissfully. Closing your eyes as his fingers trace the soft skin of your abdomen. One of his fingers dips below the hem of your shorts ever-so-slightly, so quickly and delicately you would've missed it if you weren't so turned on you wanted to scream.

His fingers stay there, though, just teasing and dipping below the elastic until you open your eyes again and see his staring into yours in the mirrored wardrobe doors that sit at the end of your bed. He nods slowly, almost questioningly. He wants to know if he can take your shorts off if he can see you. 

You move so slightly that no one else would see it, but your soft nod combined with your whispered, “yes.” is all Matty needs to slide the fabric over your hips as you lift them, smiling softly as you feel the fabric move down your legs and off your skin.

Your thighs part without you thinking, staring at Matty as you spread your legs. His eyes hold yours for a few seconds, but he can't keep them there for any more time than that. Instead, they drop to between your legs. Suddenly, the whole mess with Jamie melted away from his mind and you feel him stifle a groan at the sight of your wet core, his hands instinctively moving to your thighs as soon as he sees you. The intense need to touch you overpowering any thoughts he could have, every once replaced with your name on a loop.

“What got you this wet, baby? Tell me.” Matty whispers in your ear, his soft voice cascading down your neck, goosebumps rising in its wake. Every brush of his digits over your skin was torturous, fingertips dipping between your legs and hovering above where you needed him most. Instead, they move to the soft skin of your inner thighs, leaving featherlight touches that make you whine.

You throw your head back against his shoulder, begging him to touch you properly with soft cries as you buck your hips, desperately needing to feel his fingers inside you. You swear the air around his fingers is thick, and every time he edges closer to your clit, your skin heats up in anticipation. But that same cold feeling overtakes you when he slides his hand away from your core again. You know he wants to hear you, he always does. Forcing words out feels impossible but when his hand teases your tender skin again, you manage to mumble needily.

“S’nothing. not important, please, Matty.” You whimper, closing your thighs around his hand to keep it trapped. 

“you can pretend all you want, I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” Matty smirks as he slides his free hand over your arms, watching cockily as he sees goosebumps rise in the path of his touch. 

“Fuck- s’just because of you. You look so good when you're angry. Please make me feel good.” The words pour out of you within seconds, not being able to think about anything other than Matty’s fingers inside of you.

“Good girl, so good telling me what got you this wet. You like seeing me like that, hmm?” Matty waits until you start nodding furiously, wanting to make you wait just a few more seconds, letting his ego swell even more. 

“Don't worry baby, I'll make you feel good,” Matty smirks as he speaks, forcing apart your thighs by hooking his feet around your own, pulling them open and watching as your slick glows on your skin, covering your inner thighs. You think he’ll tease you again, but whatever god there might be finally has mercy on you, and his hands start moving to where you really need them.

Heat rushed to your head the second his fingers finally sunk inside you, feeling them crook and hit that spot that made your hips jump, chasing more of him. His other hand grips your jaw, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your cheeks and forcing your head forward, making you stare at your reflection in the mirror. 

Rosy red cheeks and lust-filled eyes meet yours in the reflection, looking fucked out already. You stare at the mottled red flush creeping up your chest and neck, obscuring the freckles that cover your skin, your desperation clear from the vision in front of you. 

Your pulse quickened as you looked back at Matty’s reflection, watching his tongue dart out and wet his lips. His eyes don't meet yours, instead staying focused on the image of his fingers inside your cunt, watching in awe as they skink into you, seeing your wetness spread further and further down his digits. 

Focused eyes watch as his thumb meets your clit, and just for a second, they flick up to your face in the reflection, just to watch the way your jaw shakes and the whites of your eyes become the only thing visible, uncontrollably rolling into the back of your head.

His pace was slow and deliberate, playing you like one of his guitars, moving his fingers with the same precision he uses on stage. The haze in your head was making it impossible to focus, pleasure already pooling at the base of your spine from each purposeful curl of his fingers. 

Calloused skin brushes over your bud, sending shocks of electricity up your spine, licking every nerve as it shoots inside you. You can't help but gasp at the feeling, sucking in air desperately. Butterflies hammer against your ribs as you look at Matty again, seeing the deep pools of his eyes filled with pure black, trained on your body, studying every move you make.

Matty twists his head, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from your core to press a kiss to your temple and whisper in your ear, stopping his movements and moving his thumb away from your bud as the words drip from his lips like honey, “Explain what I'm doing to you baby, tell me how I make you feel, hmm?”

You shake your head, wanting Matty to just keep on moving, but the seconds without him inside you drag on, and you lose the fight in your head. “You're- fuck. You’re torturing me.” You pout, wriggling your hips and trying to get Matty to move again, pleading to feel that same push and pull of his fingers.

“Oh s’that bad, is it? Why don't you show me what to do then baby, teach me a lesson, yeah?” Matty laughs teasingly as he removes his fingers from inside you, the wet noise of the loss permeating the room along with your pained whimper.

You nod needily, moving your hand down to meet Matty’s between your legs and puppet it, pushing his fingers deep inside you, one of your own sliding in with them, guiding his digits. You suck in a breath as you stretch to accommodate your finger along with his, joining Matty’s as they press further inside you before pulling out slowly, watching your arousal string between them.

“Faster” you whisper, keeping your eyes laser-focused between your legs, watching your nearly manicured nails gripping the skin of Matty’s hand and speeding up his movements. He listens immediately, and soon, that slow torturous pace is replaced by quick frantic pumping, your slick dripping down his wrist with each rock of his fingers. “Fuck, yeah. Just like that.” you pant, bucking your hips in time with each thrust of his hand.

“Rub your clit” Matty demands, clearly deciding your teaching moment was over, and he was back in charge. His pulse was racing under his skin as he stared in the mirror. Anticipation filled his body, his mind hazy as he forgets to breathe whilst watching your reflection. He studies the way your nipples harden under the flimsy fabric of your vest, watching your chest heave with every desperate breath. You slide your finger out from inside you, holding eye contact with Matty as you slide it up to your clit.

But your finger doesn't stop as he expected, instead, he watches with a dropped jaw as you bring it up your lips, tapping your fingertip on your bottom lip before pushing it inside your mouth, moaning wantonly as the taste of yourself fills your mouth. Matty mouths “fuck” in the mirror as he watches, keeping his eyes trained on you. He watches wonder as you swirl your tongue around your digit, studying the way your saliva strings from it as you pull your finger from your mouth, smirking at Matty with each move you make.

Just as your spit-soaked finger touches your clit, Matty's other hand grips your jaw and forces your face to meet his, pressing his mouth against yours and forcing his tongue in your mouth, chasing the taste of your release on your tongue. The feeling of his lips on yours as his fingers move with abandon inside you, and your finger rubbing your clit was too much for you, and within seconds you're cumming with a shout against Matty’s lips. Your whole body shakes as overwhelming pleasure rocks your body, waves of bliss radiating under your skin.

“Fuck!” you cry out, letting the intoxicating feeling of pleasure crash over you, your eyes glazing over as the seconds drag on, time melting with each rock of your hips. Your hand clutches Matty’s, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks in his skin, trying to ground yourself with the feeling of his fingers still inside you.

Matty watches intently, a flushed look covering his face as his skin glistens from the thin layer of sweat that covers him. Seeing you fall apart because of him will never get boring, seeing everything leave your brain and be replaced with all-encompassing bliss was a sight he couldn't compare, nothing made ego fizzle up his spine like watching you completely at his mercy.

Once the waves subsided, your grip loosened, and Matty pulled his fingers from inside you. You whimper at the loss, but Matty gently shushes you, forcing you to open your eyes and make you watch him place his fingers inside his mouth, smirking around them as he sucks them clean, groaning at the taste of you. Weakly, you slap his arm with a giggle at his exaggerated moans before turning around to face him, matching his smirk and opening your mouth slowly.

Wordlessly, you and Matty have a conversation, his raised eyebrows asking if you're sure and your slow nod telling him you've never been more sure about anything. His eyes stare into yours as his mouth moves over you, guiding his hand to your jaw and cupping as he spits into your mouth, using his grip to force it closed and watch you swallow. His eyes follow your every move, studying the way your throat bobs and smirking when you open your mouth proudly, showing him your clean tongue.

“Dirty girl” he whispers, smiling at you with crinkled eyes, letting them trace your every feature as you grin back at him, giving him a peck on the lips and settling into his arms contently.

“Mmm, your dirty girl, though,” you respond quietly, smiling happily when you feel Matty press a kiss to your head, both of your bodies sinking into the bed below you and letting the warmth pull you under.

[stochastiz]

i'm distracting myself from real life by thinking about magic users who stim using their spell components

of course there are the classics of using your arcane/divine focus and/or material components to fidget with:

rolling augury sticks/bones/dice around in your hands or pushing them around a table, shuffling and cutting your tarot deck

feeling the softness of the feathers used for flight-based magic

twirling small pieces of wire and constantly bending them into various shapes before straightening them again

pulling your amulet along the chain that holds it along your neck, using a particular spot or groove along its surface as a worry stone to rub your finger on or pick at

but what about the verbal stims you can make out of the arcane and divine languages the magics are based in:

turning casting phrases into patterns to chant or challenging yourself to repeat them as fast as you can like tongue twisters

picking out the particularly satisfying parts of the elemental languages used in your casting to echo throughout the day

maybe a non-magical party member picks up bits and pieces of the phrases the casters of the group say as they cast and try speaking them for themselves, seeing how the words form the potential for magic in their mouth but find no purchase to be brought into existence

i've mainly been thinking about somatic and physical components as stims though. how the intricate finger and wrist movements used to pluck magic out of thin air must be so satisfying. but also how a magic user who might gesture wildly as they speak or try to keep their fidgeting fingers from drawing too much attention could be gesticulating with movements from their spells unintentionally, and what sort of subtext that could lend to what they are saying:

a cleric going through the motions of a bane or a blessing towards their conversational partner, depending on how the conversation is going

gesticulating through an emotion calming spell as they try to talk someone down from a heated argument

a wizard saying "sorry, could you repeat that?" as their fingers imperceptibly twitch through their language comprehension spell and they focus more of their attention on the speaker

a druid fumbling to catch an item they dropped as their fingers try to summon a vine instead of reaching for it themselves

nervous fingers busily trying to cast invisibility on the body they're attached to after their joke falls flat

fingers rubbing temples in a similar way to how they would cast a spell to see through illusions or invisibility as the caster continues trying to see the solution they know is right in front of them

hands subtly motioning to produce flame or acid or electricity in their palms before being outstretched to shake the hand of a new acquaintance that has already managed to rub the caster the wrong way

hands that jolt into the beginnings of protective spells with each roll of thunder or crack of lightning the caster hears outside

it just seems very right to me

[lorre-verie]

babes i have a request

so im in the mood for angst...bc why not

so like can i request like an aonung x sully!reader set in the way of water timeline but like instead of neteyam dying it's reader who dies

does this make sense😭😭

CLEARLY u LOVE the idea of people dying because ??? WHY would u do this But ok Ye ask and ye shall receive

“I promised.”

word count: 2.3k

pairings: ao’nung x f! sully! reader (angst)

notes: - reader is the sibling in between Neteyam and Kiri in terms of age - ao’nung and reader already have an established relationship prior to the events of this story - i am NOT giving reader a name, i also dont think there are any mentions like y/n or [name] or anything like that

warnings: descriptions of war, death, blood, idk more death, sadness, its sad 4 sure but idk if its tear-worthy?

masterlist

“C’mon! We have to go get Spider!” Lo’ak nodded his head towards the inside of the ship as you cut him free from his restraints. 

“What?” you responded, unable to process what he’d just said.

Your older brother behind you, Neteyam, cut off the tie bounding Tuk’s hands with a dagger, and another quick snap further behind told you Ao’nung had just cut off Tsireya’s.

You and your siblings were in the middle of a full blown war.

Besides almost getting crushed by Payakan, getting taken hostage, killing about 5 people trying to save your siblings, and witnessing the deaths of many of your own people, things in your opinion were going great so far. 

“C’mon sis, we can’t leave without him!” Lo’ak crouched down, picking up a gun from one of the fallen na’vi soldiers slouched against the railings, blood seeping down their skull. 

Your gaze was fixed on the grip of the gun that was firmly clasped in his fingers, stained with red at the bottom. The blood trickled down silently, creating a small pool on the already drenched floor, yet it seemed inconsequential amidst the chaos.

In that brief moment of dread, a warm hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. 

Something similar to fear took over your body, causing you to be unable to take your eyes off your younger brother who looked at you hopefully, while you stood there like a deer caught in headlights.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to save him. The images of blood spraying all over replayed in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” a comforting voice drifted through the air, pulling you back into reality. 

The foreign accent had a calming effect on your senses, a zap of electricity running down your queue.

Whipping your head, you met the eyes of the person who had spoken, the comforting shade of aquamarine looking back at you with such emotion.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes at the sight, a low growl forming in his throat. He never approved of your relationship with the boy, but what could he do about it? He was in love with the man’s sister!

Neteyam sauntered towards your brother, braids waving wildly in the air as they always did. 

“I’ll go with you,” he nodded at Lo’ak, ignoring Ao’nung completely as he looked at you, seeking any form of approval.

Your brows knitted together, and you shook your head. 

“It’s fine. I’ll go. We all know I’m a better warrior than Neteyam anyways.” you joked, attempting to lift the mood. 

“Are you sure?” Neteyam said softly.

“Positive. You should go and help out the other warriors.” you nodded, feeling the comforting warmth of Ao’nung’s hand leave your shoulder. 

Looking back at him, you could see the fear and concern etched on your lover's face. He looked so perplexed, a reaction you’d never seen on his face before.

Before you could take a single step, his arms pulled you in for a hug as if he was shielding you from any threat that could harm you.

He didn’t want you to leave.

Lo’ak and Neteyam groaned, looking instead at the ocean, watching the metkayina and the sky people battle for their opposing goals.

Ao’nung leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. 

"Please be careful."

The sound that came from his mouth was barely but a whisper, as if he would choke if he said it any louder. 

You smiled, placing a hand on his neck reassuringly. 

“I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

As the words left your lips, you waved a farewell to him before going inside the ship, Lo’ak in front of you. 

The thumping of your heart echoed in your chest like an empty chamber. You weren’t going to break a promise. 

At least, 

not this time.

“Lereho!” a guttural, high pitched scream reverberated throughout the forest. 

The sleeping creatures lifted their heads up in the sky, ears pointing in all different directions, attempting to make out the source of the scream.

“LEREHO!” a 7-year-old you screamed even louder, tears flowing down your pale face as you looked at the rusty helicopter. 

The rusty helicopter which had now trapped your friend inside its worn down metal walls, and he scratched against the door endlessly, trying to get out.

“I- I-” your words were unable to come out, your entire body trembling with fear. 

The large metal body was encased in mossy vines that suspended it above the lake, and Eywa knows Lereho couldn’t swim to save his life.

“I’LL GET HELP, LEREHO! PLEASE STAY HERE!” you cried out, praying to the Great Mother he could hear you. 

“I PROMISE I’LL GET YOU OUT OF THERE!” you yelled, your voice hoarse and strained, your entire body buckling down with the weight of your words. 

You turned back and ran as far as you could, as fast as your legs could take you. Your face was all scrunched up and your eyes were full of tears, partly obscuring your vision. 

Branches scratched your body and drew blood from your fresh wounds, but you didn’t care. Guilt overtook your body and put you on autopilot.

If you hadn’t told him to, he wouldn’t have gone in the helicopter with you. 

If you hadn’t been stupid, you wouldn’t have closed the door.

If you hadn’t slipped on the vines on your way back to solid ground, the helicopter wouldn’t be creaking slowly, on its way to submerge him fully in the lake. 

If you hadn’t been friends with him in the first place, maybe he would’ve been alright right now.

You wiped the water from your eyes and the snot from your nose harshly with your bleeding hands. 

By the time you returned with your father, all that was left were the torn apart vines flowing loosely in the wind of the night. 

They couldn’t even retrieve his body.

Beads of water welled up at the corners of your eyes as you crouched along the wall, Spider in your sights. 

Blinking rapidly to get rid of them, you leapt down with Lo’ak, taking care of the humans surrounding your friend mercilessly. 

You screamed as you smashed the last one’s skull along the railing, flipping them into the water, heavy pants leaving your chest as the adrenaline wore off.

“Woah. You alright?” Lo’ak gasped, slightly concerned. 

“I’m fine,” you breathed out. “We have to go, now.”

You grabbed a gun from one of the dead soldiers, and not long after you heard the sounds of rapid gunfire hit metal a bit too close to you for your liking. 

With your instincts you dove out of the way, grabbing Spider with your free hand and quickly crawling along the floor towards the moonpool, ensuring that Lo’ak was still behind you. 

The shots from the gun made the air burn in your lungs, and you coughed vehemently before hiding behind a wall just in front of the moonpool, whispering a quick apology to Spider for being so harsh with him. 

“You two go!” you shouted at the two boys behind you, whipping out your gun in an attempt to kill the bastard who was shooting so restlessly at you. 

“Are you nuts? We aren’t leaving you!” Lo’ak yelled back, considerably offended you’d think he’d abandon you so easily.

“Just go now! I’ll be fine!” you growled, taking another shot at the recom. 

Amidst the deafening sounds of gunfire, you were able to discern two distinct splashes in the water. 

Retreating behind the wall for cover, you swiftly reloaded your weapon with the remaining ammunition scattered on the ground. 

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and emerged once again, determined to make your final shot count.

Ao’nung whipped his head around frantically as he stood on one of the ships purposed for hunting tulkun, all of the previous occupiers…removed.

He looked towards the ship for any possible sign that you were still okay.

He’d witnessed Lo’ak and Spider riding away from the ship on an ilu, but where were you?

His heart beat faster and faster with every shallow breath he desperately took, unable to imagine what had happened to you. 

Just before he was about to call his own ilu, he heard a loud splash from the water behind him. 

He turned his body, bracing for a surprise attack, but instead, he got a surprise hug.

As your body melded with his, you rested your chin on his shoulder, feeling a calming sense of peace.

At first, his hands trembled as he placed them on your back, taken aback by the sudden embrace. 

But gradually, he relaxed into it, a radiant smile gracing his face as he shut his eyes, savouring every point of contact between your bodies, determined to remember what it felt like. 

There were so many things he’d wanted to say to you, but only three words left his quivering lips. 

“You… came back,” he choked out, even attempting to hug you tighter, before realising that he might have been hurting you- to which he loosened his grip.

You sighed contently, gazing at the water behind him. “I promised.”

Just then, you saw something underneath the ripples of the ocean. 

Everything was too fast for him to process. 

One second, he was hugging you like it was the last thing he could ever do with you in the world.

The next second, it actually was.

His eyelids whipped wide open as he heard a gunshot, his body hitting the floor in the direction opposite to where he was originally standing. 

You threw him out of harm’s way. 

The last time he’d ever seen you was with your mouth agape and pupils shrunken into the size of his thumb, as you fell lifelessly backwards into the water with a loud splash. 

“NO!” he screamed helplessly as he scrambled up from the floor, his knees scraping against metal as he crawled frantically towards the edge to see if you were alright. 

The only thing he could see from the surface of the water was your blood slowly tinting the ocean red. No bubbles. No sign of you resurfacing. 

Without hesitation, he plunged into the blood-red ocean, his body slicing through the water with a sense of urgency. As he dove deeper, his limbs thrashed and flailed, propelled by a desperate need to reach you and bring you back to the surface.

His panicked movements grew increasingly frantic as he searched for you, his bloodshot eyes darting around frantically in the murky depths. Every fibre of his being was focused on finding you, but as he scanned the water, he realised with a jolt that you were nowhere to be found.

Determined to keep searching, he pushed himself to swim deeper, his hands and feet churning the water as he scoured the depths for any sign of you. 

But as he descended further and further into the abyss, his vision began to blur, and his lungs burned with the need for air.

Despite his physical limitations, he refused to give up, driven by a fierce determination to find you. 

All he could see was the trail of your blood, leading him deeper into the unknown.

His fingers outstretched, he tried to reach you, but it was too late. 

His lungs burned with a searing pain as he struggled to hold his breath. But he refused to give up, clinging to the hope that he would find you alive and well.

As the seconds ticked by, his chances grew slimmer, and his body began to betray him. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish, and his vision grew hazy with tears.

Despite his efforts, he simply couldn't hold on any longer. 

He broke the surface of the water, gasping for air as his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

The devastating reality of his failure hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him reeling with a sense of loss and despair.

A soul-wrenching cry tore through the air.

The sound was so raw and guttural that it felt as if it came from the very depths of the earth itself, carrying with it the weight of a thousand shattered dreams.

It was the kind of cry that would make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a sound that would haunt you long after battle was over. 

The cries of the wounded and dying were nothing compared to the sheer agony and despair that his cry conveyed. 

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks - he had lost you forever. 

The person he loved most in this world was gone, sacrificed her life to save his. The weight of his grief was so heavy that it felt like a physical burden, crushing him from the inside out.

He wanted to scream, to wail to Eywa, to beg for a chance to take your place. 

But he was powerless, reduced to a helpless witness of his own tragedy. 

He could feel the weight of his guilt like a physical pain, knowing that you had given your life for his.

Every following moment he had to live without you was a torture, a constant reminder of what he had lost. 

He tried to fill the void with his duties, with distractions, with anything that would make the pain go away, but nothing worked.

He would lie awake at night, imagining the pain you felt, the last moments of your life. He pictured you sinking into the cold, dark depths of the ocean, alone and scared, the light fading from your eyes.

It was a pain that he knew would never truly leave him, a wound that would never fully heal. 

He felt as if a part of him had died with you, and he knew that he would never be whole again.

They couldn’t retrieve your body. You couldn’t have a proper burial. He couldn’t ever see you again, not even through the spirit tree. 

Having to explain what happened to you to your family almost killed him; he could only imagine the pain they felt if he was feeling that way.

He blamed himself. And deep down inside, he knew that they did too.

masterlist

i hope it's sad lol i'm sorry if its not 😭 and tysm for the request @dearstell 💗 i finally got one after like a month 😭 idk i just headcanon that without a proper burial, the na’vi can’t be reconnected with Eywa upon death, so people can’t see them through the spirit tree. it’s an educated headcanon, if you will.

now how do u feel realising the words in the title are actually the reader’s last words?? do u feel upset?? i sure hope u do cause i put lots of thought into that, just for u guys :) 

as always, tysm for reading til the end! I appreciate all your support, comments and reblogs 💗

much love, lorre.

[callmissrogers]

That's My Girl | Part 1

Summary: A mission goes horribly horribly wrong, and Y/n knows it's her fault. Captain Rogers wants to be there for her, but she won't allow him to. But the team believes that there's more to this than simple hostage casualties. What is Hydra hiding?

Warnings: Angst, death, grief, and a wee bit of fluff stuck in there somewhere.

Word count: 3,527

(Only proofread once, so apologies for any mistakes)

Part 2

Y/n sat, face in her hands, leaning against her door.

It was all her fault.

They died because of her.

She had blood on her hands.

Try as she might to send her thoughts elsewhere, they still roamed back to what had happened the night before.

The street lights went out in an electrical burst, one by one.

Y/n looked around anxiously. The house had gone dark too. "we didn't have Intel on charge weapons." She barked over the comms. "Dang Hydra cockroaches!" Tony yelled. "They're trying to block our locators. I have a feeling that these are part of what the Shield x Hydra agents stole from headquarters." He finished. They could feel him pacing and moving his arms about wildly, as he always did.

"Well, let's recalculate. Charges or no, the doctor and his family still need our help." Natasha interjected.

They had come here after getting Intel on the kidnapping of a Doctor Cedric Bon. He had been a leader in black market plastic surgeries. Only his work had little to do with face lifts and tummy tucks, and so much more to do with attempts to actually turn the clock back on a person's age. Before, he had only managed to turn out some really messed up and damaged people, who could never undo what had been done to them. But a lot of chatter recently indicated that he had finally managed something akin to Steve's serum. But for youth instead of strength. 

Right after that, he and his wife vanished. One of Natasha's sources told them that Hydra had gotten them. They could only imagine what they wanted them for.

"OK. So, not being able to tell where everyone is presents a problem." Sam said worriedly. Now they'd be going in blind. They were going to relay on some of Stark's technology to help them locate where they were being held and go from there.

"It's a problem, but we'll find a solution. Sam you keep cover from the skies. Tony, you're in charge of entry points and keeping anyone else from coming in.  Buck, Nat, and I will handle whoever is waiting for us on the inside. Y/n, you gotta get'em out of there, ok?" Steve said, taking on the tone of voice he always had when he was in what they called Cap mood.

Y/n knew why he had asked her to handle that aspect. Her ability was mental and emotional manipulation. She could make someone believe a lie, calm down, get angry, or think whatever she wanted them to think. Not huge things, but simple things like "I should trust her" or "I should give her this key card." These thoughts and feelings never lasted and were always followed by a headache that resembled a hangover.

Even tho she could fight, frightfully skilled in martial arts, Steve must have figured her skill would be useful in helping the hostages relax as she moved them out of there. How wrong he was. . .

But martial arts also came in handy if one wanted to move about unseen, which y/n did.

It didn't take her as long as she thought it would to find them. They didn't have them in a cell, basement, or anything like that. They were locked in a bedroom on the second floor. It had two twin beds and a bathroom. For a hostage situation, this was pretty comfortable. Y/n put this off to the fact that Hydra thought they lulled them into a false sense of security so the doctor would do what they wanted.

That was her first mistake.

"I found them," She tried to say over the comms, but all she got was static. Only then did it occur to that she hadn't heard anyone say anything since they entered the house. They were probably jamming the comms.

She felt for her backup earpiece for such situations. It wasn't there. Why wasn't it there? *because you forgot to replace it after you last used it. the one time you hadn't used your checklist as you suited up. Steve would surely give you an earful. This was why that man loved checklists.*

She decides to press on anyway

Second mistake.

"Who are you?" The Doctor asked, his accent thick. "Just think of me as your rescue, Doctor Bon, Mrs Bon. I'm y/n, I'm a member of the Avengers and I need you to come with me. Now."

"Those men told us that they were part of shield reborn." Mrs Bon said doubtfully. "Shield reborn? There's no such thing."Well, then if you say we can't trust them, how do we know we can trust you?" Mrs Bon asked doubtfully.

Y/n turned and looked at her, her eyes changing from her usual green to a bright violet and then back again. Mrs Bon blinked a few times and then said, "we should trust her." "What did you do?" Doctor demanded. "Later, Doctor. She'll be fine, tho. You'll all be fine if you follow me." She said firmly.

She had stupidly been confident that she could do it all without any backup or any knowledge of what was happening down below.

"Do you know of a back way out?" She asked. "Um. Yes. They took me on a tour just today." The Doctor said nervously. "Why? Actually, no time. Just tell me where to go, but I lead." She said, exiting the room.

The Doctor told her how to find the servants' stairs, which were hidden behind a rather large painting.

She tried her comms again but nothing.

The stairs seemed to curve on forever until they opened up to a large kitchen. It was empty aside from men laying about with knives sticking out of their chests. 

Upon a quick scan of the room, y/n was sure it was safe for them to go.

After a quick dash to the backdoor, she pulled it open, stepping out into the night with them following close behind her. The yard was empty, dark, and soundless. It was now or never.

"Time to go!" She ordered, yanking them along with her as best she could. They would make it. They could duck into the woods. The others would clean up and find them later.

Mission accomplished.

Third and final mistake.

They were nearly there, just about to cross from the manicured lawn into the unkempt woods. But the moment the Bons attempted to cross, they jolted uncontrollably, and then they fell down, dead. . .

Y/n's eyes widened, dropping down, she frantically tried to give them cpr. First one and then the other. Tears stinging her eyes. "Come on!" She screamed. Hands trembling, she felt their necks. They were gone.

Hydra had implanted them so that if they tried to escape, they'd die. But why?

She just besides them until the others found them.

Nobody said anything on the ride home.

5 am.

The moment the jet landed, y/n jumped up, running out before anyone could stop her.

She went to her room slamming and locking the door behind her. Sliding down against it, she gave into the sobs.

Present moment.

Y/n had been sitting in the place since the night before. She didn't care that her legs had long since fallen asleep, that her back ached, her head pounded from crying. A heavy and sour feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Miss y/n," FRIDAY said, "Go away."Mr Stark says that there is to be a team meeting in five minutes."

She would be sick.

She knew she had no choice but to go to the meeting. It was mandatory for the official mission file before they filled out their own paperwork. It was a manner of protection for themselves as well as a record.

But that also meant that she'd have to go out there and explain to everyone just how she had failed, how she got them killed.

It was all her fault. All her bloody stupid fault.

"Miss y/n," FRIDAY said as a means to hurry her along.

"Fine." Y/n spat, pushing herself off the floor.

Get it over with.

The walk to the meeting room never felt so long as it had just now. Seeing everyone there, waiting for her to join them, made her blood run cold.

But, she was a part of this team. She had to be held accountable just like they did.

Steve was standing at the head of the table. Scrolling through a tablet that was projected onto the larger screen behind him. He glanced at her when she sat down, a mix of emotion on his face.

"OK. Well, you all know the drill by now. We need everyone's account of what happened last night." He said, sounding almost regretful that he had to ask.

One by one, they went around the table, each describing their movement in the mission. "I stayed on guard duty. No one came in or went out until y/n came out with the hostages. Then I flew to help, when I heard screaming and found that they were, in fact, deceased -" Tony said in a monotone voice. "I stayed on yours and Becky's six. We took out about 80-90 guards and agents before we made it outside and found out what had happened to the Bons." Nat said, choosing not to use the word decased, dead, or anything else remotely related to it. She was friends with y/n she knew how something like this would be to eat you alive from the inside out.

Then, the room grew quiet. Y/n knew it was her turn. They were nice enough not to all stare at her expectantly, but she still felt them pressuring her to tell them what went wrong, what she had done wrong.

She'd probably be put on leave for her stupid recklessness.

Her mouth was dry, heart pounding, and she finally looked up. Eyes meeting Steve's. He, unlike the rest, had been staring. His brows now knit together like they always were when he was thinking. She braced her hands on the table and slowly pulled herself up.

"Last night I was reckless. I forgot my other comm, so when they jammed, I couldn't get in contact with anyone. I didn't pay attention to any of the signs that told me it was too easy. I led them outside, and then they died right in front of me because I didn't even think to check for a chip!" She said, her voice increasing as she went along. "It was all my bloody fault. You can put that in the report, and I'll fill out my paperwork later." She spat and then stormed out of the room.

"Oh, she's not in a good place." Sam commented, sounding concerned. "She can't blame herself for the psychopathic nature of monsters," Bucky said, sighing. "There's no way she would have known about those chips. None of us would." He continued.

"What I want to know is why they were willing to kill them. Those chips have a kill switch. Somebody pressed a button to do it. Why didn't they want them alive?" Stark questioned. "There's something that's more important to keep hidden than having them alive." Steve commented almost absently, his thoughts distracted by something or someone rather. "They took them for a purpose, so they must already have all the schematics on the serum he created." Natasha added.

"He was a fast talker to give them everything in 24 hours. This isn't something you find in a textbook, " Bruce said.

"I want more information on where they were holding them and the agents we found there. Nat, can you head that up?" Steve asked before excusing himself without waiting for her reply.

"FRIDAY, Y/n's whereabouts?" He said once he got in the elevator. "In the kitchen, sir."

Y/n was pouring herself into a cup of coffee. She didn't drink alcohol because well she couldn't. Something about alcohol potentially making your heart stop makes one think twice about it.  So she would overload herself with caffeine instead.

She had just picked it up, allowing the mug to warm her hands. Suddenly getting the feeling that she wasn't alone in the room.  The last thing she needed was a speech about how it wasn't her fault and that the team was behind her all the way. Because she knew at least the first part of that was a big fat lie.

Finally, the person standing behind her cleared their throat. Steve. Of course. It had to be him.

Slowly, she made herself turn around, but she wouldn't look at him.

"What do you want?" She asked, forcing her voice into a monotone, hoping that he would get the hint and leave her be.

She knew what he wanted. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to reassure her that this didn't change anything.

He stared at her a moment before answering, "y/n, would you look at me, please?" He asked, his voice gentil, nothing at all like his Captain America voice.

She just shook her head, eyes locked on her coffee.

He took a few steps towards her.

"Y/n . . . I know you think that -" "That what? That this all my fault? Check. That you're all disappointed in me? Check. That I'm the reason that the mission failed and two people are died? Check and check. We've established how I feel now." She snapped angrily.

Steve's expression shifted from one of pure concern to slight hurt. Not that she could see that, still refusing to meet his gaze. But he wouldn't allow himself to get offended. He did know how this felt and knew that she didn't mean it.

Carefully, he took a few steps forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Feeling her instantly tense up. "You can yell, cry, get angry. . . Just don't go inward on me." She said nothing, biting her lower lip, looking away, determined to push away what he was offering now. He sighed, not out of frustration with her but worry, "Shortcake, please say something." Shortcake, the nickname he had given her after they first met at that WW2 convention.

"Steve. Just stop being a hero for one second and leave me alone!" She yelled, slamming her coffee down on the counter, making it spill, and storming from the room. "Y/n!" He called.. He wanted to go after her but he respected her wishes and left her alone.

Once she had made it back to the safety of her own room, y/n collapsed on her bed, allowing herself to break down again.

Why had she done that? She knew that he genuinely just wanted to comfort her. But what did she do? Screamed in his face. Right.

She didn't move a muscle and eventually slipped off to sleep. A sleep that made her relieve the day the man she had just yelled at became a part of her life.

It was a cool day in May, y/n was walking around the WW2 convention. Her grandfather, grandmother, great uncles, and great aunts had all served. She grew up on the old stories, the old records, the old newspaper clippings, and books. Her parents had brought her to this convention every year since she could walk, and now that they were gone, she came alone. This time period was a part of who she was. So dressed in period appropriate dress reminiscent of Andrew Sisters' famous uniform, she took in all the sights.

Finally, stopping by a tent set up to be an old fashioned drugstore, complete with ice cream, sodas, lemonade, and sandwiches.

"I'll take a lemonade," She said with a smile. Noticing the man leaning against the other end of the counter.  She knew who he was, of course she did, just as she was very aware of who he worked for. Technically she was a colleague of sorts.

He quickly noticed her staring. But instead of looking bothered, he smiled. Slowly, he inched his way closer until he was standing next to her. "Which Andrew sister, are you?" He asked with a grin, making y/n blush. "Well. . Not technically supposed to be any of them. I just like the style. It has a bit more class than modern-day dress blues." "You served?" "Airforce. That is until..."Shield picked you up?" "How did you know?" "I might or might not have seen your file." "Sneaky." "I like to think I'm observant." y/n couldn't help but smile. They weren't lying when they said Steve Roger's was quite the charmer. Finishing off her lemonade, y/n turned to pay for it only for Steve to hold out a five dollar bill to the shop owner. "I - why did you do that?" She asked, baffled. "Because I'm a boy from Brooklyn in the 40s, and we don't let ladies pay for themselves." "Oh. I see." Steve couldn't help it. He was very intrigued and spoke before he could talk himself out of it. "Are you going to the show later?" He asked, referring to the bands and performers who would be performing 40s music that evening.

"I was planning on it." "Uh," He cleared his throat. "Would you like to watch it together." "Mr Roger's are you trying to ask me out?" He nodded, "Yes. Yes, I am." his cheeks tinged with pink. "Well, in that case, yes." He looked at his watch, "We still have about an hour before it starts..." "That we do. . ." She said, almost having pity on the poor man. Here he was, Captain America, and he was actually nervous. "Would you like to walk around with me?" She asked, deciding to make things easier for him. "Sure." He said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. They walked around the field, sharing stories and just getting to know each other. The more they talked, the more Roger's lossened up. The hour flew by before they knew it, so they made their way over to the field. Most of the chairs were already taken by the early birds, so they stood further back. Y/n being only 5 feet tall, struggled to see over the crowd that had also found their way back there. Steve tapped her on the shoulder, "May I?" He asked, gesturing to a stand behind them. She nodded, and he gently picked her up and placed up on it, pulling himself up next to her. They could easily view the show from here. "Thank you for that," she said with a smile. "No problem. You can't help being a shortcake." He grinned. And the nickname just stuck from that point on.

Just a mere three weeks after that, y/n was asked to join the Avengers.

Y/n shot up in bed, room dark, glancing at the clock beside her bed. 3 am. Her heart was pounding, eyes puffy from crying. Her room felt suffocating and oppressive now. "I can't be here." She whispered aloud to herself.  Quickly changing her clothes, she made a beeline for the gym, determined to clear her head.

Steve, whose room was on the same floor, heard a door opening and shutting and then the ding of the elevator.

Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had a feeling as to who might be up and about at this late hour. There were only four of them on this floor and none of them were nightowls. So he knew exactly who it was.

Down in the gym, y/n was in the midst of the wing chun arena. Dodging, then getting in a few hits before leaping to avoid being struck in the legs. Steve walked in and just stood there for a moment, watching her. She was ripping them apart. Tho Steve was sure Stark wouldn't hold it against her.

With a scream, she kicked another apart and kept going. Steve was beginning to worry she'd soon take herself apart too. So, with another sign, he walked towards the arena. Leaping over the wall, making his way around the carnage toward the center where she was, just three more dummies to go.

Stopping just behind her, he said

"Y/n... that's enough. " She ignored him and kicked the top off of the dummies. "Y/n." He said a tad firmer, only to be ignored again.

He cared about her too much to allow her to completely self-destruct in front of him. So he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to turn around. Hands still on her shoulders, he looked down at her, hoping that she could see just how worried he was about her. How much he cared for her.

"That's enough." He tucked hair behind her ear.

"Do you hear me? None of this was your fault. I promise you that we will figure out who did this. We'll find out why. But Shortcake, it's not on you." He said hurriedly, his voice cracking as he pulled her into a crushing hug.

Part 2

[inkblot22]

Idia and the expression of displeasure

Uh, shoutout to that guy who I thought was my friend, asked me if I wanted to hook up despite being over 1000 some-odd miles away, despite me being very openly not that into men and, more importantly, telling him very clearly that I have no interest in dating him specifically. You're so cool for that, man. I just love to feel like an object. The "something about me" is the crippling c-PTSD, anxiety, and possible psychotic illness rotting my brain and your reading of me as a "Creepy Goth Chick", thank you.

Anyway, I hope I was able to direct that shitty man behavior onto our beloved Idia. I did tag you, it's later on and if you'd like me to remove it, I can absolutely do so, just let me know. Also all I can think about is this vine.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

TW for verbal abuse, manipulation, emotional abuse, captivity, use of a shock collar, mention of physical abuse, Idia is an asshole, abusive relationship dynamics, lack of communication.

Idia is the type of person to believe he is pragmatic, when, in reality, he is rather mercurial. He will fly off the handle at the smallest thing but be completely unbothered by larger issues.

I imagine this could lead to a few problems for his dear, sweet partner. (By the way, I refer to Idia’s darling as his partner because that is what they have rationalized their situation to be, currently: they are Idia's captive partner. Idia doesn’t label them very often, and although he does call them his partner, he definitely sees them as an endearing pest, kind of. Despite them being there because of him, he often acts like they're a mouse or roach that popped up one day and he grew attached to.)

Idia is not the type to like striking or physically harming his partner. He’s the type to get rude and nasty, and play victim. This does not mean he doesn’t ever physically harm his partner.

See, that shock collar around their neck? We have previously established that this is connected to his technomantic energy, and his technomantic energy is connected to his inherent magic ability.

The collar is set up with a warning system. If Idia’s partner does anything he remotely dislikes or any set of pre-established actions that they are not made aware of, they will receive three low-voltage, quick-tap jolts of electricity right against the column of their pretty throat.

These actions include, but are not limited to: acting in any way to harm Ortho or Idia, attempting to harm themselves (this one had to be added after the hanger incident), walking too close to the door or the covered-up window, touching any of Idia’s current or past projects without permission, touching Idia’s gaming setup, ignoring Ortho (this only is put in place if Idia’s partner is hostile towards Ortho at any point, even just once) and refusing any food or drink given to them by Idia specifically. It's important to reiterate that Idia has not told his partner literally any of these rules. Much like the ways that some people train a dog, they have to learn the hard way.

After the three taps, Idia’s emotions and/or intentions dictate how intense the next shock is. Sometimes it’s a bored little zap, like a fourth warning to cut it out before he gets mad, sometimes it’s a rolling pulse that pulls them away from whatever they’re doing, sometimes it’s a tidal wave that literally brings them to their knees and makes them throw up. It really depends on the most annoying kidnapper in the world. 

Idia is very aware that holding this person hostage because of his own predilections and perversions is a wildly morally incorrect thing to do, but Idia also doesn’t give a steaming shit. He’s been given what he wants, having grown up as a member of the upper crust, and if he doesn’t get it given to him, he finds a way to get it.

This means that, as much as we all love him, Idia is a whiny pisslord. The second his partner doesn’t do what he wants, he’s grumbling about it, he’s whining, playing victim, getting huffy.

While that might not sound bad, please remember that Idia’s partner has a bunch of exposed wires situated with the intent of shocking them around their neck at all times, and the shock collar is connected to Idia’s emotions. While getting shocked in a more violent manner isn’t very common for them, it can still happen, and therefore it's possibly best to do a little eggshell walking.

Besides that, it’s not very pleasant to be around someone who is so volatile, even if at their most disappointed they just complain for a few hours or days. Having to deal with someone else’s displeasure in life while being more or less unable to discuss your own does not do wonders for your mental health.

Let’s go over some scenarios and the punishments connected to them.

Idia has been playing some online fighting game all day, pretty much ignoring his partner. He hears them move during a cooldown between matches, turns around in his chair, and asks demands that they come over and let him kiss them a little. Of course, Idia’s partner declines. In this situation, Idia would usually get upset and complain about it for a while, name calling included. His words and mood definitely have the vibe of, “How dare you breathe around me and then not let me touch and kiss you. That’s just leading me on, breathing around me.”

Idia’s partner made some cup noodles while Idia was taking a nap after he raged all night and well into the afternoon. He wakes up and sees them sitting in his gaming chair, facing away from his computer and eating. In this situation, Idia would straight up zap them for two reasons. Number one, they didn’t make him anything to eat, and number two, they’re not supposed to be sitting in his chair or at his desk. Anywhere near his computer/anything that could possibly be used to contact someone on the outside without supervision is a huge issue. Keep in mind that he never deigned to share this rather important rule with his partner.

Idia’s partner has a bad day and snaps at Ortho, shoving him away very, very gently. It almost goes without saying; they’re getting zapped to the point of unconsciousness, because Idia panics and then gets mad, in that order and in rapid succession. The emotions blend together for a moment which makes the jolt stronger. This is when the “no ignoring Ortho” rule would be implemented, because they’d better be really nice to Ortho for the next few months before Idia decides he can trust the two of them to interact without his watchful eye. He trusts his little brother, but he doesn’t trust his partner.

In honor of a certain discussion I had with @tht0nesimp (thank you so much, you're very insightful,) Idia’s partner has a meltdown (understandably) and starts throwing things, including a glass of water that was brought to them after they had a bit of a cry in the shower (stay hydrated, everyone.) The glass, still with the water in it, sails across the room and clocks Idia right in his pretty face, ideally breaking his nose. While it’d be understandable to assume that Idia would be mad enough to hit his partner with a jolt of electricity that would bring them to their knees, Idia is sensible enough to understand that this is a display of some form of hysterical emotions that his partner has been bottling up until this point. Therefore, instead of electrocuting his partner, he just starts complaining, more loudly than usual. It is not peculiar for his voice to rise in volume but not in inflection, we hear this in game, but imagine that just a bit louder and more whiny.

“Wow, and here I thought you were an adult. I can’t believe you can’t even control your emotions.”

“My nose hurts. No, don’t apologize. It’s your fault anyway. I don’t even want to know what you’d do if you were really mad.”

“If you want to make it up to me, you could- don’t make that face. Whatever, I knew you weren’t being serious. Whatever. Just ask Ortho to get me an ice pack and go sit somewhere away from me. It's fine. It's fine!”

[sebluvi]

Calm Before The Storm

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~Based on a request I received. Requests open!~

Sebastian Sallow x fem!reader

House neutral

Kinda spoilers for endgame, but I twisted it in my own way so its not exact!

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Sebastian tries desperately to prevent y/n from charging into a deadly battle.

Word Count: 1.3K

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Brimstone and rubble spiraled through the air, and the force from the speed of the wind sent you and Sebastian’s hair flying in all directions at once.

Dark, tall towers of stone and rubble sat on all sides of you, and behind you was a steep cliff.

Flickers of bright red sparks crackled through the air like electricity forming a gigantic powerful cyclone.

You could faintly hear the sounds of your exasperated professors calling Sebastian’s name somewhere far away in the cave.

He shouldn’t be here.

Just HOW did he get here?

You had your feet planted firmly, battling the speeds of the winds against your body, balancing yourself so you wouldn’t topple over the edge. Your back faced the cliff, and your wand at the ready, while Sebastian faced you.

“Y/n, please.” He yelled over the howls of the wind, straining his voice.”-I’m begging you. Don’t do this!” He held his hands out towards you, inching towards you ever so slightly, trying to coax you off the edge.

You furrowed your brows at him, taking a step back. Your hair rippled wildly through the air with the wind. The longer you stood there, the more rubble that would whiz past your face, leaving the smallest cuts on your skin.

 You winced, closing your eyes tight. It stung. You opened them again, glaring at Sebastian.

“Sebastian. This is what I’ve been working towards for months! This is my chance, I have to!”

A loud thunderous roar rumbled through the air. You quickly whipped your head around behind you, Ranrok’s ginormous dragon-form flew into sight, its large wings somehow managing to make the wind fly faster in the cave with each flap of its wings. He soared through the air, flying down and landing on the platform. It seems as if the distraction the professor’s made earlier only lasted for so long. His glowing red body seemed to creak and groan as it moved. The dragon stretched its neck into the sky and sent out a horrifying screech.

You looked back in front of you, and Sebastian stood there with a terrified, pleading expression on his face. Sebastian trusted you to be fine on your own in battle for the most part, but he had only seen you fight mere poachers and ranrok’s loyalists. This was a fucking unknown magic infused dragon!

“I’ve already lost Anne. I cannot lose you too. Please, let the professors handle this, y/n!” He took another step towards you reaching his hand out once more.

You took one more step back, feeling the stone cliffside crack beneath your feet ever so slightly, you glanced down quickly at the ground noticing you didn’t have much more space to move. You darted your vision back to him,

“This is my fight! Not yours, not the professor’s, not even Merlin’s! Sebastian you have to understand! I was born for this!”

Another screeching roar thundered through the air, signaling Ranrok was about to make his move. You looked at Sebastian. This was your last chance. You couldn’t let him get to the reserve. Sebastian was almost close enough to touch you, but he was being careful not to apply too much weight on the edge of the cliff. He was being extremely cautious and calculating about every move he made.

His hair flew wildly in all ways, and bits of rubble had started to accumulate in his hair. He had small thin streams of blood trickling down his face caused by the few minor scratches on his skin resulting from the flying fragments of stone soaring through the air. His robe aggressively fluttered behind him as if he was about to take flight. His eyes were willed with all sorts of negative emotions.

Sad and pleading.

Desperate even.

You wished you could drink in this sight of him, stand there all day and count his freckles.

You wished you could reach out and take his extended hand and just go back to the comfort of your common room, but you couldn’t afford to think like that right now.

Especially since this could possibly be the last time you ever saw him.

You lifted your hand up that wasn’t readying your wand, and used the sleeve of your robe to wipe the tears that were beginning to fall down your face, resulting in smearing the blood that was also on your face over your cheeks.

You were sure you looked ridiculous, but he thought you looked amazing.

Sebastian winced at the feeling of the stone hitting his face, and raised an arm to shield his face from the ever-growing winds.

 “Please. You still have time to turn around. Think about this, y/n”.

“No. You think about this Sebastian. If I don’t do this, we could both die. Good people will die, Sebastian. I’m sorry. I’m doing this to save the world. To save us.”

He took one step closer, finally close enough to touch you. He raised the hand he wasn’t using to shield his face and gently grazed his fingers against your flushed cheeks. The touch lightly stung from the small cuts on your skin, but you welcomed it. Small fragments of rubble grazed the top of his hand as he held it up. His hand moved slightly, cupping your cheek, and he took one step closer. He used his arm to shield both of your faces. He titled his head to lay his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“You’re my world, y/n.”

You looked up at him, tears pooling in your eyes, desperately hoping this wouldn’t be how your last encounter played out.

Sebastian removed his forehead from yours and stared at you at eye-level, hand still cupping your face.

"I know you don't care if you get hurt but I do! I really fucking care if you get hurt! Or worse! I know you’re putting your life on the line to save everyone, but what about us?!”

You stuck your wand back in your waistband slowly, and raised your hands to lay them on his chest.

“Sebastian. You’re being extremely selfish right now. This is bigger than us. I’m sorry.”

You frowned, and glanced down at his lips.

You closed your eyes, and pushed him with both hands harshly, resulting in him being shoved backwards and the ground below you crumbling as you slipped off the edge of the cliff.

The wind rushed through your hair and robes as gravity claimed you. The site of Sebastian’s horrified face grew smaller and smaller each second your body flew through the air backwards.

It actually felt peaceful.

The calm before the storm.

 You closed your eyes, and let your ancient magic consume you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

A/N: In case it was hard to gather from the way i left it, Y/n did not fall to her death. She used her ancient magic to land in an extremely badass graceful way (!) before the final fight.

Requests open, let me know how you felt about this oneshot in the replies! Every comment inspires me to write more.

And yes, pt 2 of love sick is coming

[stealingyourbones]

DP×DC prompt: Ghost King Danny has to stay in the ghost zone unless summoned due to various ancient ghost bureaucracy bs policies coming into effect at once; Jazz promised to summon him if her life is threatened (threatened-- not in danger, those are separate things), she works at Arkham.

(I know you wanted just characters, but at least it's only one sentence?)

Response to this post

Homie I don’t mind this works just fine! It’s vague enough that I can expand on it and it’s not a keyboard smash of typos that’s illegible so it works for me.

Danny is pissed that he’s stuck in the GZ but honestly at this point it’s completely out of his hands. Pariah Dark didn’t act as a King for thousands of years and the political structure of the Ghost Zone is in complete shambles. The Observers insist that Danny mustn’t leave the GZ until baseline treaties and building back up the old government structure happens once more.

Only issue is that these one eye fucks keep everything old school so the amount of paperwork he has to go through is truly ridiculous and is almost glued to his desk signing and writing all day.

Danny had no idea how long time has passed. It may have been weeks in the real world, it may be years. Time is strange in the ghost zone and it fluctuates wildly without any rhyme or reason. You could stay in the Zone for a year and exit to the mortal plane and figure out that only a few minutes have passed from their point of view.

Danny is reading the bill of what feels like the kazillionth piece of paperwork he has gone through today when he feels a tug at his core. Someone was summoning him. The conflicting emotions of joy and fear swirl in his stomach. The only people who he gave his summoning sigil to was his friends and his sister. He was grateful that he could finally take a break and see them again and yet the only reason he told them to summon him was if they were in significant peril.

Danny closed his eyes and let the tugging of his core carry him to the mortal plane.

Opening his eyes he sees Jazz in some form of a concrete brick office. Her hair had grown much longer than when he last saw her and she looked a lot older… how long was he in the Zone?! She’s crouched behind her desk and a majority of the furniture in the room is pressed up against the door barricading herself inside. Her eyes are darting around the room watching for any sign of movement as her hands grip a Pocket Fenton Blaster. Her hands were as steady as a surgeon as she held her gun but the rest of her body was shaking with tremors.

Just before Danny was about to ask what was going on, a large bang came from the office door that left the steel door with a fist sized dent. Someone was trying to break in.

Danny stood to his full height. He dropped his human form. A mass of arms and eyes and green electricity swirled like a fucked up undead biblical angel over Jazz. His crowns flame turned a almost glacial blue as another strike from outside caused the doors hinges to buckle and creak. Whoever was trying to break in is going to regret that choice for the rest of their afterlife.

[starheirxero]

WOE, SERVANT SUN ANGST BE UPON YE !!! The fic is also under the cut in case you can't use ao3!

Summary:

The world-eater unleashed upon their dimension has done its job with ease. Buildings are reduced to rubble in mere seconds and many are lives snuffed in an instant. Sun was among those lives.

Now, in the afterlife, Sun finally feels every emotion he had locked away for the past century and Moon—a brother he never knew he had—is there to support him every step of the way.

Warnings: Major character death (already happened), angst, loss of faith, just generally a lot of very messy emotions

Word count: 1,091

"How are you feeling?"

Moon's soft tone is nearly drowned out by the sound of something cracking and falling in the distance. The rubble around them shakes from the force, a few books fall from the shelves behind them. Moon's legs dangle freely off the edge of a broken staircase, while Sun has his own curled up to his chest. Neither of them are particularly paying attention to the destruction around them.

"I don't know," Sun mumbles, "Tired, I think. Am I supposed to be feeling some type of way?"

"I wouldn't say you're supposed to be, but people are usually sad or angry or even relieved." Moon rubs his thumb back and forth against Sun's shoulder. "You feeling any of those?"

Sun shakes his head slowly, the golden eclipse earrings on his middle rays swinging with the motion. "I don't think so."

Moon waits a long moment, staring at the other bot expectantly. A bookshelf topples over loudly across the room. Outside, the world-eater lets out a sickening scream. Sun doesn't elaborate.

Moon sighs. "I think what I'm trying to ask you here is," he gently taps Sun's forehead, earning a startled noise from the other. "what's going on in that head of yours, bud?"

Sun stares up at Moon, chewing the side of his lip as he debated on whether or not to speak his mind. If this man is truly his brother like he claims, he may already know what to expect. Sun looks away.

"Do you think He's waiting for me?" Moon's soothing motion pauses for just a moment and Sun feels the need to explain himself. "I mean, surely He must be, right? During such an important time, He's likely gathering the rest of His followers, taking them to safety, and wondering where His last saint is. I promised Him I'd be there when He needs me most, but now I'm here when He needs me most and stars I know He will be upset with me."

"Sun, I don't think he—"

"What if He thinks I ran off, Moon?" Sun interrupts Moon with a frantic edge to his voice. The servant's body starts to tremble and Moon feels it in his hand. He opens his mouth to sooth his brother, but Sun speaks first. "What if He can't find my body and He thinks I broke every promise and prayer I ever made? What if He thinks I'm a traitor? What if He thinks the last century was nothing but a lie and I'm a dissenter, just as Bloodmoon was? What if He hates me?"

Sun suddenly stands up, pacing in a circle on what little flooring remained of the library's second story. Moon rises as well, but stands in the same spot. He watches his brother quietly.

"I did so much to show I still worshiped Him! I did all of this," he motions at himself wildly, "for Him! I did all of it without Him even prompting me to! My entire life centered on Him, every single ounce of energy I ever had was used to serve Him or think about Him! He was the air that entered my vents, He was the electricity in my wires, He was the solder that held my stupid, stupid body together!

"He was everything to me, Moon!" Sun suddenly turns his attention to Moon and he sees the tears threatening to fall from Sun's eyes. The world seems to shake louder at his anguish. "And I failed Him! I failed the one person I absolutely could not afford to fail! My god, my savior, the one constant in my life! How much of a fuck-up do I have to be to manage that?!"

Sun hiccups loudly and looks away to cover his face. Moon approaches his brother at a slow pace, gently putting his hands on his arms. Sun lets out a whimper and leans into Moon, crumbling into his arms and hiding his teary face in the bot's shoulder.

"Did I do good, at least?" Sun's voice is strained, desperate. "Or did I waste my life in the most pitiful way possible?"

Moon wraps his arms around Sun's body and hugs him tightly. He hasn't been able to do this for a century. It's nice. "You did perfect, Sun. You did all you could, even with someone like Eclipse looming over you at every turn. I'm proud of you, brother. I always have been."

And just like that, Sun's fragile mask melted.

His stifled cries become full-body sobs that were already leaving Moon's shoulder wet with tears. 100 years worth of grief—of anger, of disgust, of hatred, of fear—all come out in a wail that only the dead can hear. He wept for every soul he was forced to turn away from or harm, he wept for every part of himself he maimed in an attempt to feel holier, he wept for the person he used to be, he wept for the life he never had.

He wept for every moment he felt like his lord was truly going to kill him. He wept for every moment he dreamed of a kinder god. He wept, and he wept, and he wept.

When Sun's sobs and hiccups quieted, the world seemed to have done the same. No more tumbling buildings that shook the earth. No more screeches from the world-eater. Not even the sound of wind or rubble falling. So, in such a still moment, Sun admits something. "I think I hate him."

Moon hums, rubbing a hand down Sun's back in a soothing motion. "I know."

"I feel disgusting."

"I know."

"I don't want to be his servant anymore."

"What do you want to be, then?"

Sun pauses. He gently flicks the bell at the end of Moon's hat. "I want to be your brother."

"You already are my brother," Moon says with a chuckle.

"I wasn't really before this, though. I didn't even know you were here." Sun flicks the bell again, harder this time. Moon lets out a snort. "I want to know what it's like to be your brother. I want to know something that isn't Eclipse."

Moon mutters in understanding. "You know, I'm not the only brother you have."

Sun suddenly breaks the hug to look at Moon with wide eyes. "What? What does that mean??"

Moon smiles and wraps an arm around Sun's shoulder, guiding him through the broken remains of the library. "Here, follow me. I'm sure Lunar and Bloodmoon will be thrilled to see you."

Notes:

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said I love you because you are love

HAPPY DAY EVERYONE ^_^ i hope this fic made you drop to your knees in a waffle house parking lot! reblogs and anguished tags are always appreciated <3

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Sherlock & Peaky Sister - Kiss

Previous Parts:

Original Request

Extras

Warnings: Kissing

He woke every time you shifted. He was afraid of accidentally crushing you and wasn't used to this type of embrace or sleeping with someone else. Sure, he wasn't a virgin but those were fleeting moments when people often collected their things and left shortly after. 

People didn't take comfort in his behavior. Something he did very little to fix, he wouldn’t dim himself down for other people to continue being fragile. It was a ridiculous concept. 

Looking down at you he wondered why you bothered with him at all. It was already a risk, you were half the size of him, and while the fight you put up the other night was impressive it certainly wasn't successful. Not to mention he had extensive combat training, size and build, and the knowledge of how to get away with the whole thing. 

It wasn’t a smart decision at all, and your family thought nothing of it. He certainly wouldn't have approved of Enola being in such a situation. 

Moriarty - he could be Moriarty for all Thomas knew. Although, he wasn't. With new emotions and worries trampling over him, he wasn't sure what he was anymore. 

All those potential threats and there you were tucked into his side, hand curled in his shirt as if to prevent him from leaving. Actively pulling him closer after a lifetime of being pushed away he didn't know what to feel. You had no idea about the worst parts of him, but how did you show a person all of those things at once? 

Your reaction to the drugs prescribed to Enola, surely you wouldn't be impressed by his lack of control. Substance abuse was a friend that always had a hand on his shoulder. He let out a sigh trying to think of all the things he felt someone should warn you about and got tangled in frustration that he would have to be the one to warn you. 

Most people could grasp those things immediately and you weren't stupid by any means. Your fingers tightened and he felt your breathing change. Your eyes fluttered open and registered his face. You gave him a small smile before moving even closer to him. 

“Morning?” You breathed closing your eyes again, resting more of yourself on his chest like a lizard finding a warm rock. 

“Not yet.” He answered feeling wildly uncomfortable or concerned. Probably both. 

You let out a content hum. “Excellent.” You looked so content lying there and he assumed you were going to fall back asleep. He thought about his situation, how badly he wanted you, weighing it against what was moral. 

“Sherlock?” 

“Yes” 

“What time is it exactly?” You asked sweetly. 

“‘Round 5” 

“Technically morning.” You mumbled looking up at him and the mystery of why you were asking was answered. Your eyes were searching his face for an answer, wanting him to give in first. He was not going to initiate anything, if you wanted it bad enough you would come to him. 

He looked over your face, thick flush, racing pulse, eyes blown out in the darkness. Eventually, you got brave and pressed your lips against his. This kiss was different from the kiss in the bathroom your lips more determined as your hand rested on his cheek keeping him in place. 

Determined. Not a word he would have used for any kiss he had experienced. Your lips were soft and he kissed you back gently. Something that seemed to cause agitation to run through your skin like electricity. To steady you he grabbed your neck the power dynamic shifted. He wanted to give you lots of room to change your mind. 

“Stop” You breathed and his understanding of you was correct. You were too good for these types of things. “You- don’t have to hold back” You stuttered slightly as your chest heaved. 

“Hold back?” He let out a hum while looking at you in your state of desperation. How far was this going to go? 

____________________

You gave a slight nod all doubts and fears had been washed out by the consuming desire for him. You didn't care how far it went. You just wanted him to kiss you back in the way you knew he wanted to. 

He was looking down at you with those piercing blue eyes. The first pink light of morning was streaming across the tops of dark walls. The warmth of his body and the slight hitch in his breath was driving you mad. You thought it might have been a mistake. He was kind enough to let you into his home, his bed and here you are throwing yourself at him. 

The self-conscious feelings started to grow in your stomach just as he flipped you onto your back. 

“What makes you think I’m holding back?” He whispered as his hand tightened around the back of your neck. He settled himself over you placing a kiss to the top of your neck. All the air left your lungs and his teeth pressed into the sensitive flesh. 

His body felt like heaven pressed against you. The weight that he allowed to fall onto you made you feel grounded. You lost your words as his massive thigh settled itself between your legs. His teeth sunk into your skin and you let out a moan. 

Just then the door flew open. 

“Oh good you're both awake! I think I figured out why Moriarty is after your brother!.” Enola looked at both of them like she’d just won some big award. Her features were completely unbothered by your compromising position. 

“That’s great Enola,” You said weakly as Sherlock moved away from you. 

“But -Erm- I- well, I should think about it a while longer - you can just rest a while.” She said after catching Sherlock's eye. She quickly shut the door and ran off. 

You let out a laugh at the expression on his face. His eyebrow lifted and you only laughed harder. 

“I don’t understand you.” He said. 

“I know.” You said grabbing his hand. “That’s why this is so fun.” 

[sassenach77yle]

"Go wi' God…mo duinne."

He stepped off the ledge and made his way down the steep incline, bracing his feet against tufts of grass, catching at branches to keep his balance, not looking back. I watched him until he disappeared into the oak clump, walking slowly, like a man wounded, who knows he must keep moving, but feels his life ebbing slowly away through the fingers he has clenched over the wound.My knees were trembling. Slowly, I lowered myself to the granite shelf and sat cross-legged, watching the swallows about their business. Below, I could just see the roof of the cottage that now held my past. At my back loomed the cleft stone. And my future.

I sat without moving through the afternoon. I tried to force all emotion from my mind and use reason. Jamie certainly had logic on his side when he argued that I should go back: home, safety, Frank; even the small amenities of life that I sorely missed from time to time, like hot baths and indoor plumbing, to say nothing of larger considerations such as proper medical care and convenient travel.And yet, while I would certainly admit the inconveniences and outright dangers of this place, I would have also to admit that I had enjoyed many aspects of it. If travel was inconvenient, there were no enormous stretches of concrete blanketing the countryside, nor any noisy, stinking autos—contrivances with their own dangers, I reminded myself. Life was much simpler, and so were the people. Not less intelligent, but much more direct—with a few sterling exceptions like Colum ban Campbell MacKenzie, I thought grimly.Because of Uncle Lamb's work, I had lived in a great many places, many even cruder and more lacking in amenities than this one. I adapted quite easily to rough conditions, and did not really miss "civilization" when away from it, though I adapted just as easily to the presence of niceties like electric cookers and hot-water geysers. Ishivered in the cold wind, hugging myself as I stared at the rock.Rationality did not appear to be helping much. I turned to emotion, and began, shrinking from the task, to reconstruct the details of my married lives—first with Frank, then with Jamie. The only result of this was to leave me shattered and weeping, the tears forming icy trails on my face.Well, if not reason nor emotion, what of duty? I had given Frank a wedding vow, and had meant it with all my heart. I had given Jamie the same, meaning to betray it as soon as possible. And which of them would I betray now? I continued to sit, as the sun sank lower in the sky and the swallows disappeared to their nests.As the evening star began to glow among the black pines' branches, I concluded that in this situation reason was of little use. I would have to rely on something else; just what, I wasn't sure. I turned toward the split rock and took a step, then another, and another. Pausing, I faced around and tried it in the other direction. A step, then another, and another, and before I even knew that I had decided, I was halfway down the slope, scrabbling wildly at grass clumps, slipping and falling through the patches of granite scree.

When I reached the cottage, breathless with fear lest he had left already, I was reassured to see Donas hobbled and grazing nearby. The horse raised his head and eyed me unpleasantly. Walking softly, I pushed the door open.He was in the front room, asleep on a narrow oak settle. He slept on his back, as he usually did, hands crossed on his stomach, mouth slightly open. The last rays of daylight from the window behind me limned his face like a metal mask; the silver tracks of dried tears glinted on golden skin, and the copper stubble of his beard gleamed dully.I stood watching him for a moment, filled with an unutterable tenderness. Moving as quietly as I could, I lay down beside him on the narrow settle and nestled close. He turned to me in sleep as he so often did, gathering me spoon-fashion against his chest and resting his cheek against my hair. Half-conscious, he reached to smooth my hair away from his nose; I felt the sudden jerk as he came awake to realize that I was there, and then weoverbalanced and crashed together onto the floor, Jamie on top of me.I didn't have the slightest doubt that he was solid flesh. I pushed a knee into his abdomen, grunting."Get off! I can't breathe!"Instead, he aggravated my breathless condition by kissing me thoroughly. I ignored the lack of oxygen temporarily in order to concentrate on more important things..We held each other for a long time without speaking. At last he murmured "Why?"—his mouth muffled in my hair.I kissed his cheek, damp and salty. I could feel his heart beating against my ribs, and wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, not moving, not making love, just breathing the same air."I had to," I said. I laughed, a little shakily. "You don't know how close it was. The hot baths nearly won." And I wept then, and shook a little, because the choice was so freshly made, and because my joy for the man I held in my arms was mingled with a tearing grief for the man I would never see again.Jamie held me tightly, pressing me down with his weight, as though to protect me, to save me from being swept away by the roaring pull of the stone circle. At length my tears were spent, and I lay exhausted, head against his comforting chest.

It had grown altogether dark by this time, but still he held me, murmuring softly as though I were a child afraid of the night. We clung to each other, unwilling to let go even long enough to start a fire or light a candle.At length Jamie rose, and picking me up, carried me to the settle, where he sat with me cradled on his lap. The door of the cottage still hung open, and we could see the stars beginning to burn over the valley below.

"Do you know," I said drowsily, "that it takes thousands and thousands of years for the light of those stars to reach us? In fact, some of the stars we see may be dead by now, but we won't know it, because we still see the light.""Is that so?" he answered, stroking my back. "I didna know that."I must have fallen asleep, head on his shoulder, but roused briefly when he laid me gently on the floor, on a makeshift bed of blankets from the horse's saddleroll. He lay down beside me, and drew me close again.

"Lay your head, lass," he whispered. "In the morning, I'll take ye home."

[huffle-dork]

Glitch into the Hufflverse Chapter 8: Darker Seas

Read Swapboys | Read Crystal’s AUs | Read Septnautical | Darker Seas AU

Read SITCV | Read SATCV | GITHV Masterpost

When they’re dumped out- they find themselves still underwater? What?

In fact… it’s not that it’s just underwater… they’re back by the Ocean’s Arms base. But… why does it look like it’s been abandoned?

There’s broken windows and crushed sides of it- looking like several kinds of creatures tried to break in.

What the hell?

Alt shakes himself out and then blinks in confusion. “…what?? We’re back- huh??!”

Bro swims upwards and gapes at the destroyed base. “H-How long were we down there…? Was that e-even a rift…?”

"H-huh?" Jackie looks around. "This--this is the same place, right? But it's... different? Why is the base all ruined?"

"The base is ruined?!" Schneep gasps.

Looks like it's been ruined for a while, too, JJ says.

After a moment, Jackie hesitantly swims closer. "It's definitely the same... what happened?"

"Perhaps... we are in a slightly different version of that world?" Schneep says. "In the same way the three of us are from slightly different versions of a city called Mirygale."

“I mean… m-maybe?” Alt says nervously. “That… did happen to us the first time we encountered the rifts…”

“…I can’t believe… there were so many people in this base… Danan and Zara and Jack- those kids… w-what happened to them…?” Bro whispers, looking at the base sadly.

Suddenly, something lashes out from the creepvines surrounding them and tackles JJ to the sea floor. A cloud of sand obscures them for a beat before the sand clears and JJ is being pinned to the ground by a familiar pair of blue claws. Marvin is pinning him to the ground but… there’s a horrible white mask strapped to the lower part of his face. …not even that- it looks like it’s been stuck into his skin by his jaw. His cat one is nowhere to be seen- and the absence of it exposes a second pair of eyes under his normal ones- all 4 glowing a bright terrifying pink.

Something crackles to life in the water- and they realize it’s a radio strapped to Marvin’s neck on some kind of collar. A robotic distorted version of his voice drones out. “Unidentified hybrid secured. State your designation number and base of origin.”

JJ gasps, horrified, frozen and feeling sick at what he sees.  He shakes his head dully, trying to sign but unable to with his hands pinned. "I don't—u-understan—" He coughs as pain wracks his throat.

Schneep spins around. "Marvin?!"

"Hey! Wh-what the hell?!" Jackie immediately charges at this new, masked Marvin.

The masked Marvin’s head snaps up and then sends a projectile warp towards Jackie, throwing him off course as the water swirls him in a confusing direction.

Alt gasps, “M-Marvin what are you-?!”

“Let JJ go!” Bro growls.

Marvin floats up and keeps one of his tails pressing down on JJ’s throat. He slowly turns to eye the rest of the group before the robotic voice says. “Detecting a total of 5 unidentified hybrid life forms. Sending out call to other agents for capturing procedure.”

“C-Capturing procedure?!” Alt whispers in fear, floating back as electricity courses down his tail.

“Do not resist. All hybrids were made to serve Alterra. All hybrids will be assimilated or eliminated.” Marvin says, turning his inhuman eyes to look straight at Alt. Alt feels like he can’t breathe.

JJ chokes, grabbing at Marvin's tail and trying to push it away, his own tail flailing wildly. Not there! Not there! The pain from his outburst of words is just increasing with the pressure.

Jackie tumbles head over tail for a while before recovering. "What the fuck is this place?!" He cries out. "Did they make him a fucking robot?!"

Schneep tries to attack next, leaping out of sight and reappearing behind Marvin, trying to grab him.

Marvin tries to dodge but Schneep grabs him and pulls him off JJ. There’s no emotion on Marvin’s face but a warp gate opens up behind him, making the water swirl around them and cause a type of pull. Something big with sharp teeth lashes out of the warp gate and drives Schneep into the sand, snapping its jaws.

Alt is spiraling- it’s like Marvin got brainwashed! He can’t stop the panic that’s gripping his heart. He’s frozen in place.

JJ immediately gets up and swims away as soon as Schneep gets Marvin off him. He looks at Alt panicking, and swims over. Alt! Wake up! We have to get out of here! He shakes him a little by the shoulders.

Bro yells as the thing attacks Schneep and tackles it off him. He then is a bit surprised- this fish looks just like his tail!

Schneep cries out, pain bursting in his shoulder as the creature bites down—and then Bro appears to help. He gets up, breathing heavily. What the hell was that?! He reaches for the damage, feeling it out, wincing as he assesses it. The bite probably could have been much deeper—he got lucky.

Something else darts out of that gate though with crazy speeds and tries to tackle Jackie to the ground… another familiar face- but he looks so different he’s almost unrecognizable, except for his signature stalker tail. Henrik growls ferally with sharp teeth protruding from his mouth and blazing yellow slitted eyes. He doesn’t have his goggles on- making the scar on his nose even more pronounced.

Jackie dodges the attack, doing some strange spiral motion that keeps him completely safe but causes him to drop the bag with all their clothes inside. He looks back at who attacked him and gasps. "H-Henrik?! You too?!" He swims over to Schneep, protecting him from this other Henrik's feral gaze while he recovers.

Henrik snaps his teeth at them ferally and growls deep, no recognition in his eyes. Just deep primal animal hunger. He screeches and dives towards Jackie and Schneep. 

Jackie dives forward, intercepting Henrik's course. He successfully protects Schneep but gets tackled himself, landing hard against the ground. "Snap out of it!" Jackie growls. "If you can't—I won't be responsible!" His mandibles snap at the sides as he tries to push Henrik away.

Henrik just roars and digs claws into Jackie’s arms- wait claws? He never had those before! In fact the way Henrik acted before… you’d hardly know he was a predator. It’s like his most suppressed traits have been brought forth.

Two more figures come out of the wrap gate before it fizzles into bubbles. There’s a sharp whistle and the boneshark Bro has pinned roars and headbutts him to get him off. Bro yells and tears back, blinking spots out of his eyes. It swims back over to where the portal disappeared, looping around familiar black and white tentacles. Jamie floats there- the same awful white mask that’s on Marvin’s face also stapled on his. His eyes also shine with a sickly yellow light. A corrupted robotic version of his voice sounds out as he pets the Boneshark’s head. “Support RL-006. Incapacitate the targets.”

The other form next to them then lashes out in a burst of speed and tries to barrel into JJ and Alt, mandibles striking out to try to pin them to the ground.

Alt takes a second to register JJ is there but by the time he gets his senses back it’s too late- he yells and tries to warn JJ and push him out of the way only for Mandibles to skewer him in the shoulder and part of his tail. He screams bloody murder. Reaper Jackie giggles with sharp teeth as he leans in by Alt, his pure black eyes unnerving him to his core. “You smell tasty already~!” He laughs.

“ALT!” Bro screams trying to get over to him. But Marvin grabs him by the wrist and digs claws into his skin. “Do not resist. Capture is inevitable.”

The boneshark zips after mer-Jackie and tackles JJ to the ground, trying to bite at his face.

JJ spins through the water, only to get pinned by this shark. He quickly conjures a shield in front of his head, protecting it. He tries to look at Alt, catching sight of this other version of reaper Jackie. No! He has to help! Concentrating, he tries pushing the shield outward to send the boneshark away. The shield manages to push back the boneshark as it screeches and freaks out.

Schneep snaps his head up, hearing and sensing all the commotion. What does he do?! Where does he go?! Alt—Alt screamed, he's clearly hurt. He pushes through the pain and leaps over towards reaper Jackie, attacking from behind like he did with Marvin.

Reaper Jackie snaps his head towards Schneep and lashes out his claws to scrape across his face. Alt takes the second of the reapers focus being drawn away to concentrate then send a blast of electricity into him. Reaper Jackie roars in pain- and for a second you can see a bit of blue eyes peek out. Then he rockets back and spins back to growl towards Alt and Schneep. The pain is a lot for Alt and he slumps to the sand, holding his shoulder and biting back a whimper as his vision spins.

Bro yells and tries to get out of Marvin’s grip but he’s really really strong. “L-Let me go! Alt’s hurt!” He tries to beg.

Marvin slowly turns towards Jamie and nods. Jamie pulls out a metal pair of shackles and clamps it onto one of Bro’s arms then tugs the other behind his back as Marvin drops him. As soon as they’re completely snapped on his wrists, an electric shock goes through them and Bro screams until he’s shocked into unconsciousness, his eyes rolling up into his head.

“1 out of 5 targets captured.” Jamie and Marvin say at the same time.

“CHASE!” Alt screams. 

JJ gets up, breathing heavily, and looks around. Alt and Schneep are injured! He rushes over to them, grabbing Schneep as he backs up through the water, and starts to conjure a spherical shield around them. Before it fully closes he reaches out for Alt, intending to grab him and pull him into the bubble. But then he stops, distracted by Bro's screams. He looks towards him as Jamie and Marvin speak in eerie unison. Schneep shudders at the sound of it.

Reaper Jackie snarls and lunges forward, grabbing Alt by his mandibles. Alt cries out and tries to find some way out of this but then Jamie rockets down and clamps cuffs on Alt too.

“Say night night~!” Reaper Jackie giggles madly.

Alt jolts and screams, his tail lashing out and striking wildly with extra electricity but then he slumps completely into the sand too. Once he does the reaper lets him go.

“2 out of 5 targets captured.”

JJ lunges for Alt, but he's too slow. And now that they're so close to enemies—because it's clear that they are enemies—he quickly closes the shield around him and Schneep, making it smaller so he can conserve magic, forcing him and Schneep up next to each other. What are they supposed to do?! These other hybrids—he doesn't feel right hurting them.

Jackie looks down at Henrik's hands in surprise and annoyance. Then he grits his teeth. "Let—go—of—me!" He shouts. The mandibles snap out, clamping onto Henrik's sides in turn as Jackie struggles to escape the pin. 

Henrik doesn’t flinch at all as Jackie’s mandible clamps onto his side and just holds him there, snarling.  Marvin then warps over and tries to grab Jackie’s wrist to put a shackle on.

Jackie's eyes widen. "No! Fuck off!" He flails widly, managing to pull his wrist free and punch Marvin right in the mask. He has to get out of here! He can't let himself be caught again!

Marvin’s eyes flicker a bit as the mask is punched, showing a hint of his eyes. For a brief second- he looks scared. But, that moment fades quickly as Reaper Jackie yells out and tackles Jackie into the sand on his stomach. Allowing Marvin to slip the shackles onto both of Jackie’s wrists. He has only a brief second before the shocking starts-

Jackie's eyes widen. There's no time left! His head whips over to JJ and Schneep. "Guys! Run!" Then he cries out as the electricity courses through his body. "R-run!" It takes a bit longer than expected, but it still sends him to unconsciousness after a few seconds.

“3 out of 5 targets captured.” Jamie drones once Jackie falls unconscious.

JJ covers his mouth in horror. Schneep flinches at the sound of Jackie's cries. He grabs onto JJ. "H-he said to get out of here, so we're getting out of here!"

We can't leave them! JJ protests.

"I don't think we have a choice!" He can feel the hybrids closing in on their little bubble. If they leave anything behind he can grab it later. For now, Jackie said to run, and so they're going to. He holds tight to JJ and leaps, taking them both out of sight.

Marvin looks out at where Schneep and JJ disappeared. “…remaining targets have left scanning area. Unidentified power detected. Sending Agents RL-006 and SH-003 for collection.” He turns towards Reaper Jackie and Henrik and growls. “Find them before the rebels do.”

Henrik and Jackie snarl in response, Jackie’s eyes briefly flashing yellow before they both dash through the kelp to start looking around.

Marvin grabs Jackie and tosses him over his shoulder- then swims over to grab Bro. Jamie grabs Alt. Another warp gate is opened as Marvin drones. “HQ: 3 targets ready for assimilation.” And then they all swim into the purple blue water and disappear from sight.

=========

 Schneep and JJ appear a bit farther past the kelp forest and towards the safe shallows. They can hear the familiar roars and snarls of Reaper Jackie and Henrik hot on their tails.

J shudders at the feeling of Schneep's transportation—it makes him nauseous. Why?! he asks Schneep.

Then, something grabs them from a nearby cave and drags them inside. Clawed hands grab their faces and cover their mouths as a gravelly voice whispers. “Don’t make a sound and they won’t look here…”

Schneep immediately cries out and starts struggling against the hand, but JJ doesn't. He's still thrown off by Schneep's leaping them through space. And besides, his throat hurts too much to talk even if he could. He grabs onto Schneep's arm and makes a muffled shushing sound, then looks back at who dragged them into here.

The dark green hair and blue and green eyes with black sclera give it away. It’s Anti. But, he’s… different too. He doesn’t have that big spiral of a scar on his face anymore. He doesn’t look down at JJ just pulls Schneep more into the dark with him and presses down harder on his mouth.

Right outside the opening of the cave, there’s the flicker of a blue reaper tail- and a loud roar that makes the cavern walls shake and rattle, bits of sand and rock falling on them. The two of them can feel Anti’s hands trembling.

Then, a giggle, followed by a sing-songy gravely voice. “Come out come out, little fishes~! We just wanna play!!!” The words sound friendly enough but the threat lingers behind his growled words.

Schneep immediately freezes and stops struggling. His head turns towards JJ's direction, eyes flicking wildly.

JJ takes off the robotic gloves—the robot fish didn't get pulled along when Schneep leapt, but just in case—and signs, Schneep, it's Anti.

Schneep nods as JJ's sign-voice echoes in his head. Now that he's concentrating, he can sense Anti's soul.

We're in a cave, we need to be quiet, JJ says.

And Schneep nods again, a bit irritated. He wasn't going to make noise after hearing that roar.

There’s a couple more tense beats and another frustrated roar before Jackie’s tail kicks off bubbles and rockets away- his roar echoing farther down the landscape.

Anti finally drops his hands and backs up curling in as small as he can in the cave. He eyes them suspiciously, though he seems on edge and a bit scared as his tails seem to quiver. “…who are you guys? I-I thought you might be one of t-the botched hybrids they send out to train these guys but… y-you all just appeared out of nowhere… a-and not like M-Mar… WH-5 does…”

"It is a long story..." Schneep says slowly. "Were you watching us? Did you see that--that whole fight? Or just the two of us?" 

“… I was… in the area. I was coming to see then.. then they came and…”  Anti looks away, holding his hands to his chest.

Schneep  turns towards JJ. "Ah, do you need help speaking?"

JJ nods. The robot didn't come along.

"Right. Ah, one second, A—one second." Schneep started to call Anti by his name, but decides that'll probably freak him out too much. "I am going to do something that seems impossible." He reaches out to the side with both hands and pulls back the little fish robot JJ got in the last world. He hands it to JJ, then reaches out and grabs the bag with all of their clothes as well.

JJ puts the gloves on and starts speaking, the robot translating. My name is JJ, and this is Schneep. We're from somewhere far away... and we have strange abilities.

Alt balks as Schneep pulls stuff out of nowhere and he hits the back of the cave in his attempt to get farther away. “W-What the hell?! How- how did-“ He blinks slowly at JJ and settles back down into the sand. He narrows his eyes and hunches himself up defensively. He doesn’t seem to care too much for JJ’s name but looking over and hearing JJ call him Schneep- his eyes widen and turn he snarls and tries to tackle Schneep to the ground. “I-I knew it! You’re one of those sick clones they send out to-to try to lure me in too! Y-You sick fuck-! Im gonna send you back to fucking Alterra in pieces!”

Schneep yelps and leaps out of the way just as Anti makes contact, reappearing next to JJ, who quickly conjures up a shield. "No no no no, w-we are not! W-we don't know anything about these clones!"

JJ shakes his head. We're not with the company! I promise! We came here with three other friends by accident!

"Y-yes, and our friends were captured!" Schneep adds. "We—I-I am guessing that whatever clones you're talking about... wouldn't be taken like that?"

Anti snarls and turns to look back at the others and stops when he sees the shield. His eyes widen and he scoots back. "...c-clones wouldn't be able to do that... h-how are you doing that?!" At hearing about their friends Anti looks away and grits his teeth, but there's pain in his eyes. "... I-I dunno how you guys got here o-or how you're hybrids... but if you all have powers like that...? ...I'm sorry... I-I don't think you're getting your friends back."

"Wh-what? No—no that cannot be—w-we are not going to just—" Schneep stammers.

JJ blinks. Not all of us have magic... that's what this power of mine is called. But all of us have abilities of some kind. Well, except for one of them, one named Jackie.

"What do you mean by that?!" Schneep demands, swimming closer to the shield separating them. "A-are you saying—what are they going to do to them?!" He has a feeling, but... he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to.

Anti can’t look at them as he hugs himself and curls his tails close to his chest. “…if they have useful powers… they’re gonna turn them I..into weapons… a-any hybrids left that are useless are… are hunted down and destroyed.”

JJ and Schneep stare at him in horror. We... we can't let that happen! JJ says, shaking his head furiously. He looks at Schneep. We have to do something about this!

"If we do, we are going to have to be very careful about it," Schneep says. "We cannot get caught as well. A-and turned into—" He shudders. "We—we have to find where they took them. There has to be a main base of operations. Then—then we plan around that, a-around the defenses and such."

We can't waste too much time looking for it! They could be doing that right now! JJ looks at Anti. What's your name? He asks despite already knowing the answer—it's just polite. Do you know anything that could help us?

“…Anti.” He says quietly and then digs his claws into his shoulders. “…they’re probably already down in HQ… i-in the lava zone… I… I know where it is. But its defense is…” He shakes his head and whispers with a bit of choked up voice. “…I’m sorry I… t-there’s nothing that can be done… when Alterra wants something… they get it. I-I’ve only survived this long on sheer luck… and… and a group of humans but I… I don’t know if they can help you. …not with this.”

Schneep and JJ look at each other—or, JJ looks at Schneep, and Schneep turns to face him. "A group of humans...?" Schneep repeats slowly.

Anything that could help would be good, JJ says. They both have the same suspicion. Perhaps the Ocean's Arms aren't entirely wiped out in this world, or at least, not as wiped out as the abandoned base would imply.

"Exactly." Schneep nods. "We are not just going to abandon them. We must try at least."

Anti, can you take us to these humans? JJ asks.

Anti seems hesitant. “…they can’t save your friends…” he says hollowly. 

Schneep nods slowly. "Well... w-we have to try," he says slowly.

But then Anti sighs and goes to push over a rock at the back of the cave, which seems to lead to a smaller tunnel. “…but… yeah I guess. …yer the first hybrids I’ve met in a long time that are… actually close to how …they used to be.” He flicks his tails and shakes his head. He then gives them a look and disappears through the tunnel.

As the two of them follow, JJ says, So... those hybrids back there... you knew them. Well, they know that. But JJ doesn't want to freak Anti out by revealing that he and Schneep know all about his brothers. And... the company did that to them? I'm... so sorry.

Anti is quiet as he swims ahead of them. He almost acts like he didn’t hear JJ for a few beats before he whispers. “…they’re my brothers… were my brothers…” He’s quiet again for a couple more meters before he speaks up again. “…i-if there was a way to save your friends I’d… I’d tell you… but we have no idea. …it’s been… a year? Two? …honestly I’ve lost track… I’m just… trying to stay alive. …that’s what I tell myself that they would want… for me to keep going.”

Schneep nods. "I... I'm sure you're right, that they would want you to stay free and alive." He pauses. "I... I cannot promise that you'll get them back. But... there could be a way. A-a way for you to continue on. Maybe even a way to find them. I-I was in a space, once, where everything felt hopeless. But we got through it. I'm sure you will, too."

JJ nods in agreement. It was the same for me. Even if something seems so hopeless, there could be a way.

“…that’s a nice thought.” Anti says bitterly. Then he just continues on. Further down into the dark water of the tunnel- the water going from green to a dark blue. 

=========

When Jackie, Alt and Bro open their eyes, they’re in an underwater lab. And unfortunately they’re all very well acquainted with the white sterile walls of a lab. And worst off, they’re strapped by their arms and tails to medical tables. Scanners and monitors are setting off around them, collecting information.

Alt feels the tug of the straps and starts to freak out, easily starting to hyperventilate as he tries to pull or get out of the binds- even trying to glitch but he seems to get shocked or some kind of reaction while trying that has him cringing and biting back a cry of pain.

Bro blearily opens his eyes to the sound of his brother’s panic and gasps, trying to pull at the metal binds as much as he can.

"Oh fucking hell—!" Jackie immediately starts to struggle. "Twice?! Fucking—what the fuck?!" He sounds angry, but he's really masking his fear with annoyance. His head darts around. "Y-you two! A-are you okay?! Other than—than the obvious."

Bro grunts and lays down his head when he doesn’t feel any give. “I..I’m okay… you okay J-Jackie? W-Where are the others…?”

"I-I'm fine," Jackie says. "I don't—I don't see the other two. I-I told them to run, th-they might've gotten away." 

“Good good maybe they-“ Bro jumps in surprise and calls out, “Alt c-c’mon breathe!”

Alt is on the verge of panicked tears as he yells and struggles and pulls on the restraints. “I-I can’t go through this again! I-I can’t! What the fuck?! Fuck!!”

Jackie turns to look at Alt. "D-deep breaths, Alt! D-don't panic!" His voice breaks a little as he continues to fight against the restraints. He couldn't tell Alt to not panic—this was a panic-worthy situation!

“H-How?? How can I not panic right now?!” Alt screeches with tears flowing from his eyes as his tail tries to spark with electricity. “T-They’re gonna- gonna-!!”

There’s a window just slightly above them that suddenly has movement and what looks like a shock of blonde hair. A cool female voice laughs over the intercom. “Hello Gentleman… my~ isn’t this interesting? I don’t remember making specimens like you… where are you all from?”

Bro hears the voice and feels himself freeze instantly recognizing it. “…mum…?” He breathes with wide eyes.

Jackie glances at Bro. "Mom?" he repeats, confused. Wait. Don't tell him that—

The reaction is almost immediately drowned out by Alt yelling and thrashing against his binds. “f-fuck you!! Let us go!!”

Jackie snaps his attention back to the voice. "We're not going to tell you shit! Don't even try asking, you'll get nowhere!"

Bro looks freaked out of his mind, having a silent panic attack. He looks absolutely terrified.

The voice chuckles and sounds amused. “Oh… I really do love a challenge… it’s been boring around here lately~”

She leans further into the window to show her face. She’s a tall Caucasian woman with blonde curly hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She smirks cruelly and leans on her module.

“We can do this the easy or hard way, boys~! The easy way is you just share what’s happening here… since my agents already reported you all appearing out of nowhere. Orrr we can do it the hard painful way~!”

"Painful coercion gets you nowhere, you know!" Jackie shouts. "It's been scientifically proven!" Oh, the irony of him saying that. But he's going to take that as a good sign. He struggles some more. Then he looks over at Alt and Bro. The fear and panic evident on both their faces, "Y-you guys...?" He whispers. "A-are you...?" Are you okay? Stupid question. "I-I'm not going to talk to her but—you two—I-I wouldn't be... upset..." He shakes his head. "Not like they can do anything with it, anyway."

Alt looks angry- not at all phased by the look of this woman. Even if she looks… familiar. But Bro is petrified.

“I’m not gonna t-tell you shit!” Alt growls.

Bro looks over at Jackie and just shakes his head, curling up as tight as he can while strapped down.

The woman laughs, “Is that so? Because I’ve found it’s worked so very well for me~” She does hums in thought and taps the table. “However… I do have another method we can try…”

She’s quiet for a second before she sighs, “Oh- might as well. Less fun but.. a chance for it.” She grins and then clicks on her comm. “WH-5? Can you warp RR-01 into lab 12 please?”

There’s a beat and then a warp gate opens and the others recognize Chase swimming through. Though- his eyes shine with a sickly yellow light and he has slick black discs attached to his earlobes. He looks back towards the white suit in the window and smiles. “Yes, Dr. Demerci?”

Bro inhales sharply.

Jackie stiffens. "Ch—" No, this isn't his Chase! He has to remember that! It's not—even if it looks like him, it's not his friend relapsing again. But it is a Chase. It's someone being controlled. And that's still terrible. He feels sick just looking at this.

“RR-01 can you help me relax these new hybrids and run the Mesmer program for me?”

“Of course Dr. Demerci!” Chase says as he turns towards the others. He smirks at them and then closes his eyes and starts to sing a haunting melody that starts to weave and worm their way into their brains, trying to force them to relax.

"H-huh? Mesmer?" Jackie shakes his head. "N-no, I—you can't—!" He tries to cover his ears, but of course, with his arms strapped down he has to try and press his shoulders against his ears. He struggles for a moment, but... the song... what is that? It's like... he can't put words to it. So strange... so beautiful... His movement slows gradually. He can't help it. He wants to listen to this music...

The music is gorgeous and Chase’s voice is lovely. It doesn’t feel malicious at all. It almost feels like being home.

That false sense of security is what pulls Bro under, his fear falling off his face and being replaced with peaceful bliss.

Alt doesn’t fall for it though, he growls and tries to fight more- especially as he hears Demerci mention mesmers. That’s when screens starts to lower and pulse with beautiful flowing patterns of green blue and purple, like light dancing on top of waves. Alt tries to close his eyes but with both the song and the lights… his eyes start to glaze over really fast and he slumps.

“There we go… very good.” Demerci hums happily. “Now then, I’m gonna ask you some questions and well~ you’re free to try to fight all you want but… you’ll find it feels much better just to say it~!” She giggles.

“Now then… where are you all from? Who made you?”

"Where are we... from?" Jackie repeats absentmindedly. "It's... far away from here. Hard to explain. But we weren't made. I mean... technically... Didn't the magic make us? Or at least... turn us into this? But we weren't made like your hybrids were."

“I… I made us.” Alt whispers, “with my magic… but we’re… we’re human…” He laughs dazedly, “We could s-show you if we went on l-land…”

Demerci looks fascinated by this, “Magic…? Huh… interesting….” She looks like she doesn’t believe a word of this but she continues. “What are your designations?”

Bro laughs, “…that’s a big word…” When he laughs but doesn’t answer the question, Demerci presses something on her table and Bro gets shocked. He yells out and blinks in confusion before the Mesmer lights and song drags him back under. “Are you refusing to answer or do you just not have them?”

"We don't have them," Jackie says. "Unless you mean our names? I'm Jackie. Jackie Parker." He smiles a bit dazedly. "I-I chose it myself."

“Hm… names are fine then…” Demerci says.

“Alt.. Brody…” Alt whispers.

“C-Chase Brody…” Bro pants.

“Interesting…” Demerci muses. “Alright, let’s hear your abilities then?”

“I got super strength and stuff… think this fish body has good armor and shit…” Bro breathes with a dazed smile.

Alt’s eyes twitch and try to flicker before he mutters out, “I can… glitch… and use electricity and.. and electric magic…”

"I don't really have anything special," Jackie says slowly. "I'm strong, a-and I got these pinchers now, and the armored tail. But I think I'm durable."

“Oh that’s more than enough for us to use, dear…” Demerci chuckles. “Now… I can’t help but notice you look so similar to the other hybrids and even share their chosen names… even if we don’t use them. So… hm.. maybe you’re experiments from another company we can’t detect here… the only question is how they got McLoughlin’s DNA…” she then shrugs and grins, “no matter! This is an Alterra owned planet so- anything we find here we can keep~ but before we get started on that… do you boys know SD-004? He also goes by… Anti.”

Saying that name has Chase’s song faltering ever so slightly, his eyes flickering. Then, he gets back on track.

"I... guess?" Jackie says, frowning. "W-we haven't met him here. But... we know about him." He blinks, struggling for a bit, trying to sit up, but then the song brings him back under. "He... shoots fireballs and stuff, right?"

Demerci chuckles, “In a way.” She then frowns. “SD-4 has been a pain in our sides for too long… him and those rebels he’s somehow aligned himself with.” She then smiles sweetly and increases the brightness of the Mesmer screens.

“I need all of your help to reunite him with his family… we all miss him so terribly~ so… hybrids… will you help us?”

Alt answers almost immediately, “…yes.”

"Family?" Jackie repeats. Yes, the hybrids were all a family, weren't they? Why was Anti apart? They needed to be together. "S-sure."

Bro seems to struggle a bit, something trying to fire off in his foggy brain. “Y..yeah…”

The mesmer colors start to flash brighter and faster- words and phrases hidden inside them.

“Good. Very good. We need good weapons like you all on our side. We will give you all the purpose you deserve.” Demerci smiles.

You are a hybrid. Not a human. You are a Weapon. Obey. Do not resist . No free will. Let go. Forget. Serve Alterra.

The words flash over and over drilling them into their minds, starting to take away any thoughts of fighting against this. They were right, weren’t they? They’re only weapons… a means to the end. That’s all they’ve ever been.

Jackie blinks. For a moment, he struggles, but... it's so much easier to forget. All he's ever been good at is beating stuff up. Because... he was made for that. He was made for this. Yes, of course. Of course he was. How could he have thought otherwise? Even the memory of thinking he was anything else is fading. Serve Alterra. Serve Alterra.

Alt’s eyes glaze over rapidly as the words settle in. Serve Alterra… yeah… he wants to do that. He needs to.

Bro is trying to struggle, but it’s not getting him very far as his eyes get drawn back to the screen and fall back to the words. Spiraling down down into his emptying head. He starts to slump.

“You know… I thought it was strange to see a Chelicerate hybrid on this side… but then again they can survive in warmer waters. You are going to make the most fascinating study, Jackie Parker~” Demerci giggles. “Once your tasks are done… I’m gonna enjoy studying you.”

Now their monitors zone in and move closer to their faces, showing more personalized messages through the colors.

For Jackie: Chelicerate. Predator. Aggressive. Feral. Driven by instinct. Hunter. Powerful mandibles. Crush our enemies. No thoughts. You are not human. You are a weapon. Serve Alterra.

For Bro: Boneshark. Predator. Aggressive. Feral. Driven by instinct. Hunter. Powerful jaws. Armored defense. Incredible speed. No thoughts. You are not a human. You are a weapon. Serve Alterra.

For Alt: Ampeel. Predator. Aggressive. You will be our eyes and ears. Tactical. Find their weaknesses. Electric. Incapacitate. Capture targets. No thoughts but our objectives. You are not human. You are a weapon. Serve Alterra.

And as these words start to sink in and change their thoughts- something clicks from underneath them on the tables. And soon something round and sleek seems to clamp onto their ears. Like… gauges. It sets their bodies alight- feeling foreign and right at the same time as it emits waves of energy that seems to take control of their entire systems. Starting to rewrite them completely. The more the words and waves start to set in, the more the boys eyes start to… change. Reflecting different colors- closer to the species they embody. Not completely yet- but the shift is seen brewing at the surface.

“We won’t need those human names anymore- since you never were more than our tools, hybrids.” Demerci smirks.

“Now you are BS-008.” She says to Bro. He shudders and stiffens as a slight shock from the gauges cements this in his brain.

She looks to Jackie. “You are CE-009.” She commands- and a shock from the earrings make it so. It seems silly to think it was anything different.

And finally she looks to Alt. “And you are AE-010.” Alt’s body and tail ripple with electricity as he forgets his former name.

Something tickles at the back of Jackie's mind—some last struggle, a primal fear that spikes when the gauges are attached. He gasps for a moment... but then... then it... fades away...

CE-009's mandibles snap. He struggles a little against the bonds—and then looks towards the woman. She's Alterra. Serve Alterra. He blinks slowly. A noise echoes in the back of his throat, some sort of wordless screeching sound.

Demerci blinks in mild surprise then grins wickedly. “Impressive CE-009… usually we don’t get results like that until after memory deletion… you must not have had that big of a mind~” She giggles. “That’s perfect.”

She clicks more stuff on her table. Something else starts to snap onto the boys’ faces now- two suction cups that stick to either side of their foreheads. An arm makes sure to rip Bro’s hat off so it won’t get in the way.

“You’ve done so great for me, loves.” Demerci coos. “One final push and it’ll allll be over~ and you’ll be ready to serve Alterra like you were always meant to!”

She pushes a lever up- and electricity starts to fill their minds- their bodies. Alt, Jackie and Bro scream- the electricity and pain make them forget everything they knew before. Who they were. Where they’re from. Why they’re here. Their families, their friends. That they were ever anything more than Alterra’s tool. The electricity completely molds them into perfect Alteran weapons.

As they scream- their voices turn more feral and guttural. BS-008’s voice deepens and roars. AE-010 becomes more high pitched and crackles like static. Now their eyes fully change to their species’ own, glowing with unnatural alien light.

And then- it all stops. Their minds wiped, their purpose secured, the new hybrids fall to the beds, exhausted, panting but… complete. The monitors shut off and stow themselves away. The suction cups fall off- the restraints are removed. Demerci waves her arm at RR-001. “Thank you RR. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Dr. Demerci.” RR-001 says and a warp gate opens to let him out.

Another arm pops out and goes to force a white mask like Marvin’s and Jamie’s—WH-5 and CH-7’s—onto AE’s face. It clamps around his jaw, inserted into the skin and he doesn’t even flinch. Another arm rips off his mask and replaces it with a collar with a speaker that goes around his neck.

“You can rest for now, hybrids… settle in and let me know when you’re ready.” Demerci smirks.

CE-9 turns over, shaking himself and blinking a new purple-and-white eye. He makes more of those screeching noises—quieter than the roars they can grow to be-- and tries swimming around the room. He goes in circles around, silent for the first little while, getting used to the environment. And then he starts to get restless. "I--I w-want—" His voice shakes a little—not with nerves or fear, but with that same sort of restlessness. "I--I n-need—prey." His head darts around, looking for anything he can tear apart. He swims across the room a couple times. "Where—where is it? Where is it? Something." He needs a target of some kind. He needs one. He looks at the other two in the room—but no, they're like him. They're for Alterra. He makes another sound and continues to swim circles around the room.

BS-8 shakes his head and slowly pushes himself up, looking dazed. Then, he starts to giggle a bit, feeling an unhinged bubble in his throat that he can’t calm down. He feels the itch too. The itch to fight- to tear into flesh and rip it apart. That’s what creatures like him are made to do right? He looks over at CE-9 and growls almost playfully, whipping his tail and sinking claws into the table he’s on.

AE-10 takes a while to process. His blood feels electric, his tail sparks and flickers with electricity. It’s hard to wake up his empty head and get it firing again. Then- like a computer starting up, he feels thoughts forming. Get the directive- start your mission. He sits up robotically then floats upwards, going to look at Demerci through the window. The radio on his neck crackles to life, a static robotic imitation of his voice coming out from the speaker. “Ready for orders, Dr. Demerci.”

CE-9 follows AE-10's gaze and swims up to the window as well. Orders? Prey? Where? Now?

BS-8 frowns as he’s ignored by CE-9 and whips his tail in an annoyed manner.

Demerci grins wide, “Excellent. And while I’m eager to get you all on SD-004’s trail… WH-005 told me there were other strange hybrids around. We need to capture them too… and why don’t we see what you boys are capable of, hm? I see some of you are already showing that bloodlust..  that’s good.”

She presses the comm on her console and says, “WH-5? Warp to the training tank please.”

A warp gate opens down at the bottom of the tank- into an aquarium filled with rocky terrain and bright flora.

“I’ll get you boys some nice prey to get you warmed up with hm?” Demerci giggles.

AE-10 nods and in a flash glitches down and into the warp gate. Demerci looks surprised by this- but then she watches him hungrily. Short terming warping? …that’s valuable.

BS-8 peeks up at seeing the warp gate and bares his fangs in a wide feral grin and rockets to get to the other side.

CE-9 whirls back around and charges right through the warp gate.

The warp gate closes behind them and they find themselves in a way larger tank with plenty of strategic places to hide and swim through. There’s a few whirls of gates opening and then- a river-prowler hybrid darts out and tries to attack CE-9.

CE-9 screeches—in surprise, at first, as the river prowler grabs onto him. And then louder, the sound growing into a disturbing roar. The mandibles on his back shoot out and grab onto the hybrid and his head darts forward, biting into its skin.

The hybrid looks young- younger than CE at least. It screeches in surprise and there’s a slight look of more human-like fear in its eyes as it’s grabbed in CE-9’s mandibles. They start to crush on its tail and it’s arm and then- the bite happens and he rips into its jugular. The river prowler screeches and thrashes as the orange hybrid blood clouds around it until it finally falls silent.

BS’s eyes sparkle with sadistic joy. He licks his lips and whacks the ground with his tail. “My turn… my turn…!”

A swarm of bonesharks are released next, each one going for one of the hybrids.

CE-9 is so focused on the dying prey that he doesn't notice the bonesharks until it's too late and one barrells right into him. He goes flipping through the water, letting go of the river prowler's body and slamming into the tank wall. Then he shakes his head and looks at the boneshark again. Armor—difficult. But not impossible. He screeches and charges headfirst at the boneshark in the same way it charged at him. The boneshark and CE-9 hit each other in the middle of the water, but CE-9 turns out to be slightly stronger, pushing the boneshark down into the ground. The mandibles shoot out again, holding it in place, and CE-9 starts prying at the armor looking a weakness where he can attack.

There! Behind the head and start of its armor- a fleshy bit of muscle most fish can’t get to. The boneshark shrieks and tries to wriggle free but then the mandibles start to crack and pry at its armor and it screams in pain. CE-9 darts forward, digging and clawing into the exposed flesh, snarling as he does so. Until, finally, the boneshark's pain is ended and it goes limp.

AE-10 tries to prepare himself for the prey coming towards him but it dives at his tail and drags him down. In surprise AE shocks it and they both tumble into the sand. Once he has his bearings, AE wraps his tail around the softer underbelly of the boneshark and tries to shock it.

BS-8 is overly eager and grins manically as the boneshark approaches him. Then it plows him over and chomps on his arm where he has no armor. BS screams in rage and then lashes out to try to claw it off him.

AE-10 seems to have a bit of difficulty but after enough tries fills the boneshark with so much electricity it shrieks and then burns bloom across its belly and it falls half-charred to the ground. AE-10 shakes himself off and away from the dead boneshark and looks down at it emotionlessly.

BS-8 and the boneshark struggle in a wrestling match against each other. But, BS knows this things weakness- he knows his kind. He pushes himself up onto the top of the boneshark and sinks his into its fleshy neck, ripping and tearing at flesh until the poor thing finally expires in a heap on the sand. BS-8 giggles and licks the blood off his face, his own blood pumping. 

A clap is heard over that comm and an amused Demerci calls out, “Well done boys! Do we want another round or… are you ready to find your real prey?”

CE-9 backs up, breathing heavily. "Real prey?" he repeats, eyes going wide. "This tastes real enough." A smile flickers on his face and he glances at BS-8. "Right?" Then he looks back at the comm. "But yes. Yes yes yes."

“Hehehe yeah- tastes good-!” BS agrees. But then he spurs up and grins wide at the comm. “But, if you got better fights then yes!”

AE-10 nods. “We’re ready, Chief Demerci.”

Demerci chuckles. “Good. WH-005 will follow you and be on standby with his other agents should you need them. But this will be your chance to prove yourselves to Alterra. Capture SD-004 and any other strange hybrids you see.”

A ring of yellow flashes in AE-10’s eyes as he nods. “Yes, Chief Demerci.”

BS-8 grins wide, “Fuck yeah. Let’s get these guys~!”

CE-9 flicks his tail, giggling in a strange, scratchy way. "More prey. Let's go let's go!"

Demerci laughs. “Good luck then!“

A warp gate opens to the open ocean. AE-10 goes in through with BS-8 following close behind. CE-9 hurries after them, rushing forward.

Time to find the trail…

[scoundrels-in-love]

You hold me for a little (Curtains closed to the end of the world)

Three times Meryl is loaned a jacket by the men in their ragtag group through their journey and the one time she borrows it at the end of it all. | Vashmery/Stryfewood/Mashwood | | Grief | Persistence of hope | Father figure Roberto | Flirty Vash | | Wolfwood experiences the mortifying ordeal of being Perceived with Care | Meryl gets to cry in emotional support titties (again) | Orignally inspired by this lovely piece by @briizer even though it wildly spun away from that. Also on AO3.

I

When Meryl first spots the cluster of buildings in the distance, she isn’t sure if they’re really there or a wishful figment of her imagination after driving more than twelve hours without a break. 

As the settlement comes closer, she feels the tension curling stronger still in her limbs. Is it safe to stop? Meryl isn’t even sure whose safety she’s doubting at the moment - theirs or the strangers’ that could end up with the same fate as Jeneora Rock. There’s no rock there anymore, she thinks numbly. 

“We got to recharge the car,” Roberto breaks the silence. Her fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel, as if it could give her back control over anything. 

They’re allowed inside without much questioning, which is a blessing, because Meryl doesn’t think she’s got much talking left in her at this rate. The couple running a makeshift inn of sorts are welcoming and don’t overcharge for electricity.

"Survivors of Jeneora?" The older man asks, after giving them a quick once-over.

There's no real way to hide it, they're still dirty and bloody, Vash looks more like a corpse than a passenger in the back seat. (Her blood ran cold when she looked back at him, passed out and still, and she thought he had succumbed to some wound she had missed. It was the only time they stopped, just long enough for her to scramble in the back and shake him awake in panic, to make sure that he was okay. As much as any of them could be.)

"Yeah, we were just passin' through when shit went down. Got real lucky," Roberto says.

"You poor things, that must've been so awful. I hope they bring that Typhoon fella to justice soon, this is getting out of hand," the innkeeper’s wife’s voice is full of compassion.

It's only Roberto's grip on her lower arm that holds her back from physically launching towards the counter and pouring out how wrong they are. Her lip wobbles instead and she looks down, at her scuffled shoes and the floor that blurs.

They’re immediately invited to stay the night to rest and recover, but Roberto insists they’ve got to keep moving as their (made-up) family must be worrying. Meryl is thankful for that, she doesn’t know if she’d keep her composure under a barrage of questions and sympathy. 

There’s just enough time while the car charges to use the kindly-offered amenities, though. While Vash remains in the car, she and Roberto take turns scrubbing themselves clean and changing clothes in a tiny bathroom. Her jacket is thrown into a hurried wash and she tries not to think about Tonis’ blood going down the drain. Fails.

While it starts drying in the sun, she joins Roberto on the bench outside, next to the charging station. It’d be nice to hide from the heat, but she doesn't know where or how to be, exactly. Never did, really. It’s worse now, the thought of not seeing where Vash is like a panicked needle trying to cover her lungs in puncture marks. (Is it because she’s afraid for him or herself without him there?)

The wind is rough and feels surprisingly cold without her jacket, the dichotomy between it and the sun making her foggy headed. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep. 

There's a rustle of fabric and suddenly, with a waft of cigarette smoke, something is draped over her. It takes Meryl a second before she realizes that Roberto has thrown the side of his jacket around her. She glances up at him, but he’s staring ahead as he smokes, so she shifts to sit right next to him and pulls the cloth around her.

It’s nice, like a makeshift barrier against, well, everything, really. Even if the principle of it is more powerful than the actual physical protection. She allows herself to slump forwards a little, arms wrapping around her knees, which she pulls up to her chest, but one of her hands still holds the corner of the jacket closed so the wind doesn’t rip the cover away.

They don’t speak and it’s kinder that way, Meryl can close her eyes and almost picture it is her father sitting next to her. Like he never would. And maybe now she finally won’t need him to.

Being lucky is part of being a good reporter, Roberto had said. Maybe it had had a hand in him ending up as her mentor, too.

II

Meryl wakes in the thinning dusk of an early morning. Roberto is snoring nearby and everything feels the kind of calm that is trapped behind a glass. If she had nightmares, she does not remember them and that is a kind of gift, too. 

For a couple minutes, she tries to chase after the wisps of sleep, but gives up quickly enough. Having an hour to herself before the rest of the group wakes up is a rarity she doesn’t feel like wasting, even if she doesn’t have a plan for it, either. 

As quietly as possible, Meryl gets out of the creaking bed and, later, down the stairs that love to whine if she steps in the middle of them where they’re more worn.

The horizon is barely beginning to burn with sunrise and the wind is freezing cold as it greets her. She sinks deeper into her jacket and pulls the beanie lower over her ears, but continues down the sleeping street.  She doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but she knows the quiet urge to walk, walk into the vastness until she melts into it.

Watching the suns come up will have to do, Meryl decides. She finds a ladder to the top of the shabby fortifications around the town and then onto one of the boxes there. The wind almost rips her hat off and she is starting to reconsider her plans, just when she hears someone approach.

Before she can look, the person speaks up: “Good morning, Meryl.” She knows the voice, huskier with sleep as it may be, and immediately relaxes. Vash. 

“Good morning,” she says, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. There is a long yawn, right behind her. Meryl affords herself a smile, knowing that he won’t see it, as she pictures his sleepy face the way she’s seen it in the mornings when he seems to be less haunted - all boyish and soft. 

“I didn’t wake you up, right?” It’d seem an illogical question, if the other person was anyone but Vash who seems to notice much more than he tries to let on. But her job is to notice. 

“No, of course not,” Vash reassures her and she chooses to believe him, even if it doesn’t explain why he’d come and find her. 

They are quiet for a minute or two, other than the wind billowing and the creaking of the wooden box as she keeps shifting her weight in an attempt to keep warm. 

“I could lend you my jacket, if you’d like?” He speaks into her ear, low and deceivingly soft, and much closer than she thought he was. Meryl startles and hides her face in the collar of her jacket so he won’t see the heat that has nothing to do with the chill spreading across her face, all the way to the tip of her ears. 

“Oh, thank you, but I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, I’m used to feeling chilly anyway,” she says the second she thinks she has her voice under control. 

“That won’t be a problem.” Before she can process his matter-of-fact tone, Meryl is pulled back so that her back hits his chest and red flutters around them for a split second. In another moment, she’s securely trapped and zipped up in his coat, only her head peeking out. 

“Vash?!” she squeaks, quite belatedly. 

“Never said anything about taking my jacket off, did I,” his tone is cheeky and she pokes him with her elbow, earning an exaggerated yelp. But it is so much warmer like this, almost too much, even, and absurdly, Meryl wonders if he can somehow sense how fast her heart is beating. 

If he does, Vash seems unperturbed, letting his chin rest on the top of her head and propping his arms over her shoulders, giving an illusion of leaning on her though Meryl knows it’s nothing more than that and she’d be no real support to his height or weight. But even this pretense makes her heart swell with ache-edged joy. 

She sinks back into him and his sturdy, welcoming heat just a little and rests her head against his left arm. It’s only when he tenses she realizes it’s his prosthetic - not that she didn’t know, just that it doesn’t really matter to her. She should’ve been more mindful of him, though.

“Is it uncomfortable?” she asks, turning to look at him. Vash is staring down at her with one of those expressions she can’t decipher all the while reading too far into them. (Like she’s something surprising and wonderful, like there is a gentle light pouring out of him, just for her.)

“No! No.” It seems honest enough, so Meryl returns to how she was before, feels him relax - gradually, like he’s allowing himself an inch of peace minute by minute. Her heartbeat evens out, too, and she realizes she isn’t observing the calm anymore, she’s in it, sinking into it like the kindest quicksand. 

She lets it take her, smiling as they greet the suns rising together. Whatever squabbles they might end up having later, no matter how arduous the drive might be later, Meryl knows it’s going to be a beautiful day. 

Maybe even more than that, if they get lucky. 

III

In the doorway, Meryl takes another look at the form beneath the covers. Vash hasn’t stirred still, not since he had slowly crumbled to his knees and then onto the floor as the plant markings grew in almost blinding intensity before fading as suddenly as they had revealed themselves. She is thankful for that, it had made getting off the sandsteamer simpler, because even in the middle of the chaos someone would pay attention to a glowing man.

“Go, I’ll keep an eye on him and call you if he wakes up,” Roberto tells her from his chair at the bedside, noticing that she’s hesitating. Suppressing a sigh, Meryl nods and closes the doors behind her quietly. 

The First floor of the saloon is noisy, filled with people from the sandsteamer and local townspeople drinking, panicking and discussing today’s events. She squeezes past them, pretends the crowd and the noise aren’t like a crushing weight, bursts through the door and lets the cold air hit her. Her inhales are deep and shaky and-

“Hey!” A hand grabs her and pulls her to the side, away from the doorway, a second before the exit bursts open and a drunken patron stumbles out. 

“Sorry. I guess I’m a little out of it,” she says to Wolfwood, his hand still on her shoulder. It’s heavy and warm and makes her feel a bit more tethered to the present, like she won’t float up into the night sky because of the emptiness in her chest.

“Can’t really blame ya there. It’s been quite the day.” He releases her and puts out the stub of his cigarette, pulls out a new one and she watches how his hand shakes just so when he tosses the lighter and catches it. 

“Nothing like yours and Vash’s.” She doesn’t really know what happened on the deck, who was the half-masked man, but the way Nicholas had screamed is still ringing somewhere deep in her. It might always. 

When he says nothing, Meryl tilts her head back, watches the smoke drifting upward the clear night sky. The vastness of it, of today, crashes down on her again and the void in her chest grows heavy, like a bomb, and her whole body starts shivering with the effort of trying to keep it from exploding. 

“I used to call him a coward. But it’s me who was a coward all along. I still am. I’m so scared for him and you and Roberto, and all those people on the sandsteamer, they could have died and I am so sorry for what happened to -”

Wolfwood pulls her out of the sentence and into him, pulling his jacket around her and sealing it with his arm wrapped around her. He is warm and firm and real. He’s here and she clings to that, pushes through the nausea sloshing in her stomach at the scent of blood and cigarettes. 

One side of his shirt is drenched in blood and she presses her face into his chest on the opposite side. It’s a miracle he is alive, it’s a miracle how fast the welts on his hands are healing. She doesn’t know how much this miracle costs him, but she is thankful for it. Meryl wraps her arms around his waist, trying to find the words to say just that. 

Wolfwood is quicker. “Roberto said you’d refused to budge. You had the fuckin’ luxury of choice and you stayed.” Meryl shakes her head in reply - it had been a choice, but it also wasn’t. If she had walked away and people had died, it wouldn’t be much of a living afterward. She knows Roberto understands, he wouldn’t have stayed otherwise. 

Nicholas pats her on the back, either to shush her before she speaks or in an attempt to soothe her, while he continues: “I think… Bein’ afraid doesn’t make you a coward. If you don’t do nothing, that’s when you’re one. So, uh, thanks for stickin’ around.” 

Then, he barks a quiet, cracked laugh. “God, look at the shit I’m saying, Blondie’s really rubbin’ off on me, huh?”

“You’re not so different, you know,” she tells him, pulling back just enough to look up at him as she thinks of the desperate, foolish way he’d decided to save Hopeland armed with only this want to (and swept them all up in his belief), “thank you for staying, too.” For following Vash when they almost hadn’t, for being here, in this moment, with her, instead of taking off who knows where. Or at least to the orphanage he worked so hard to protect. 

With only the ghost of light from the saloon's window and his cigarette’s ember, it’s hard to see his expression, but she feels the way his arm tightens around her and the deep inhale he holds, holds. For a moment, Meryl feels the need to reach up and touch his face, smooth her thumb over the tension in his jaw, to tell him it’s alright to let it go here, where it’s just them. 

Before she can act on it, Nicholas' other arm comes up to wrap around her, hand cradling the back of her head and gently pushing it back into his chest, as if he cannot bear to have her looking at him any longer. 

It hurts somehow, as if on his behalf, and she hugs him tighter, grips the back of his shirt in her fists, as if that way she can force some comfort back onto him. She knows so damn little, not even how to really help these men that her stubbornness and maybe some kind of fucked up version of fate has brought into her life. And it’s just not damn fair. To any of them.

Her tremors turn into quiet sobs then, even as her thoughts rain lashes down on her - you should be comforting him, he lost someone today, he is so very hurt and he must’ve been so scared for Hopeland, and now you make him coddle you instead - and it only makes her cry harder. 

Nicholas doesn’t say anything, just holds her until the vastness of tears inside her are consumed by the void again and she grows still and empty in the safety of his jacket and arms. Meryl doesn’t know how long it has taken, her only time gauge is his cigarette that has burned down to the filter.

“I owe you a shirt,” she croaks out, unsticking her face from where her tears have soaked through it. It’s hardly the worst that has happened to it today and, honestly, she just wants him in a clean one as soon as possible so she can pretend to stop thinking about the bullet wounds that would’ve put any other man in the grave. 

“I’ll write up the check tomorrow, don’t you worry about it.” He loosens his hold on her, but she doesn’t rush to extract herself. They’re back to playing at normalcy in their words, but separating still feels scary somehow, as if he could just crumble or disappear if she isn’t touching him. Or maybe she’s afraid that’s what will happen to her. (Always afraid, always stalling.)

She wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve, draws a breath and pulls gently away from Wolfwood. The night feels so much colder than before and she immediately shrinks back into herself a little. All the more reason to get back inside. 

“We should get some food before the saloon closes, bring it up to Vash and Roberto,” she tells Nicholas. Whenever Vash wakes, he will need to eat, even if he tries to refuse.  

“I’ll join you in a few.” Wolfwood lights another cigarette, but it’s an excuse and maybe he needs the time alone that she had interrupted, but it doesn’t feel right to leave him out here. 

She takes his hand gingerly, so as not to upset the welts on his palms. “Come. We will keep the window open, Roberto’s already smoking in there.” 

He doesn’t say no, but doesn’t move, either. 

“Please, Nicholas.” 

His fingers curl around hers and he allows her to drag him back into the building, into the light like she's the world's smallest locomotive that can somehow move a sandsteamer. 

If only she could always do that, she thinks; hold him and Vash away from whatever darkness licks at their heels, hold them without restraining them. Keep them safe in ways they’d never give permission themselves to be. 

+IV

It's another day and another walk through the open grave of JuLai. Meryl is starting to lose count of both, it's only her notes that keep the flow of time in check.

Being a reporter had given her some privilege to go where others could not, though very little was enforced in the first days. There was hardly anyone to do it, after all.

That is how she knows there is nothing to find in the very epicenter of the explosion - only a field of half molten sand, like a murky eye glaring at the sky. Still, she had scrambled and slid her way through it, looking for a sign of impact, maybe a scrap of cloth. Anything, really. It had been Wolfwood to pull her away from there after hours or maybe days, set her on her feet outside the glassy indent and tell her he isn't there.

Where, then? Where?! she had demanded, hands fisting in the front of his jacket. His silence had been the only answer, his palms heavy on her shoulders. 

For a man of faith, Nicholas doesn't believe much. And still, she knows he is out there, too, searching, helping and hoping. They will meet later and hold each other's hands so they don't feel as achingly empty, like they do most nights nowadays.

She does her job, too, of course. Takes photos that will take permanent residency in her nightmares, interviews survivors and the people that come to seek signs of their loved ones, dead or alive. She documents again and again the moment when the torture of not-knowing tears itself apart and becomes insurmountable grief, devouring the person.

Maybe someday it will loosen its jaws and let the healing begin, the sort that having no answer can never give. 

As for her, Meryl doesn't know what hope looks like for her anymore. Just that she can't give it up yet. 

(They have not found Roberto’s body yet, might never, but she knows his fate. That loss is heavy on her hands, the memory of his blood like a set of steel rings every time she holds her camera, brings out her notebook. It’s the only thing she can do for him now - do her best damn job of sharing the truth of this tragedy. His. Theirs.)

She stops to take a photo of a once glimmering neon sign sticking out of sand next to a pit, like a welcome sign to hell - see, we are still Open, come join us. It is then that she notices a piece of fabric flapping in the wind a little ways up and ahead. For a second she even mistakes it for a figure standing there.

The color is wrong, but not unfamiliar, and the sun catches on some metal detailing, sending a jolt through her that shocks her body back into movement. Meryl scrambles up the dune, over the wreckage, hisses when something sharp cuts into her palm, but doesn't stop until she's holding the coat in her trembling hands.

Because it is the coat, Vash's coat. Torn and stained dark, but she knows the Project SEEDS patch, knows the cut of it, knows it, even if the texture of the fabric seems to have changed in the process Vash underwent in the vat. (Like all of them changed that hour.)

With a strangled noise, Meryl presses her face into it, imagines that time and wind and the horrors haven't erased the soft, sweet scent of him from it. 

When she regains her composure, Meryl gives the garment more thorough inspections, looking for any hints about what has happened to its owner. There isn't really anything, other than the fact it exists and has been discarded, as if taken off in a hurry. Or maybe left behind as a sign.

She scratches at the dark color lightly, to see if it would come off. Vash had liked - likes - the red. Maybe Luida can help her restore the original color, fix the tears. The thought makes her smile and she stands there, basks in the warmth of it, for a while.

Then, she folds the coat carefully and presses it to her chest, speaking into the quiet: "I'm going to borrow this, Vash. I hope you don't mind. Just for a while, I promise." Until you come back to us. Until we find you. Let it be a while and no longer, please, please, please.

After a long, memorizing look and a few photos taken so that she can surely find this place again, Meryl descends the hill with a lighter heart than she can remember having. In a minute, she's running in the direction Nicholas should be in, still smiling.

This is her current favorite place in the world, scarred and barren as it is. This is the new epicenter of her hope. Their hope.