#polaris windows

[shy-the-trash-lion]

"Did you step out of a dream?" 💙

[neoncityrain]

forgot how insane coding makes me feel. i recorded this video for fun. ill probably never make another "ad" video like i did for marauder but if i did i feel the timing on this was pretty awesome for it

and heres also an extra screenshot of a glitch for people to make assumptions about because i DID do something cool i think. what was it that i did that was cool? ummm sniles sneetly...............

[echidnana]

the dad is trying to get us to drive home this weekend haha I don't think so!

[woantohae]

Total eclipse of the heart || (Bob Reynolds x Polaris au! reader x The Void)

Summary: The team has decided that Bob should take a break for a while after what happened, in a house away from everything. To that end, they've taken turns watching him, but Bob only seems to like Y/N's company.

Author's note: This is Part IV of the Thunderbolts series I'm writing with Bob. I need more stories with him, but I'm sure there will be more when the movie comes out, so we'll have to wait and see.

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, void being obssesed with reader, Bob being a sweetheart, void catching feelings, polaris au! reader.

Bob opens his eyes suddenly.

His gaze meets the window overlooking the house's balcony, which he often frequents when he can't sleep. Then, he sits up in bed and rubs his eyes with his hands to remove the traces of sleep and pull the sheets off his body. His bare feet touched the carpeted floor and he moved out of the room, heading down the stairs.

The team had decided to take him far away from New York City and the memories of all the mess he—or rather, his other evil entity—had caused. Bob had agreed to the idea of ​​getting away for a while and trying to clear his head. The only condition was that once a week, a member of the group would check on him to see if everything was okay.

So far, Yelena and Bucky had already gone to see him. So, thinking about the fact that Y/N could be arriving soon made Bob feel calm and at the same time nervous about seeing her. It was no surprise to anyone that he preferred the girl as his favorite member of the group; from the first moment they noticed their interactions, they could tell the man's preference for her.

He really likes Y/N.

We really like Y/N.

That voice haunting him again.

After what happened with Valentina and the team fighting his other self, Void has been more present than ever. Especially when she comes or when he senses Y/N is about to arrive. Like now, when he hears three knocks on the front door.

The man rushes to the door and takes a deep breath before opening it to find a smiling Y/N.

"Hey Bobby," she greets him.

"Hi Y/N. It's good to see you here," he says, shifting his body so she can go in first. Then he closes the door, his gaze never leaving the girl. "Is everything okay with the others?"

Y/N turns to look at him, smiling slightly. "Everything's fine," she says, placing her hands in the pockets of her green jacket, "although it's not the same without you."

Bob blushes and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"That's uh... uh... good?" he says.

The truth is, she makes him nervous, like when he first met Linda. It had been a while since he felt that way; it was an effect that not even drugs could overcome, remembering how good it felt.

"Did you have breakfast?" she asked, walking into the kitchen. Bob shakes his head and approaches as well. "I can help you with that," she says with a smile.

The girl moves her hands and uses her powers to begin taking out the cutlery and a metal bowl to start cooking something. Bob still finds her handling of her powers fascinating, wondering if he'll ever have full control of his own.

A pleasant silence falls over them, the only sounds being the tapping of forks against the plate and the kettle indicating the water is ready. Bob walks over to turn it off and start making coffee while Y/N finishes making the pancakes. The moment feels so domestic that they both take advantage of it, spending the entire morning getting to know each other a little better.

And perhaps deciphering feelings that they thought would be impossible to feel again.

They had spent the entire day immersed in each other. Bob had told her things about his past, just as she had told him. They had realized they had several things in common, which made them feel complicit when it came to admitting their secrets and memories.

The night witnessed the knowing and lingering glances they cast on each other when they thought they weren't being watched by the other. Y/N had caught Bob's curious, tender eyes on her a couple of times, which only made her smile shyly and feel a blush creep into her cheeks. She thought Bob was an incredible person, and even though she didn't know him perfectly, she was certain of it.

And she had all the time in the world to do so, like tonight, for example.

"So, you fought with the Avengers against a purple Mad Titan?" he asks, frowning at the crazy memory.

She laughs and nods. "Yeah, twice. The first time we didn't make it, and the snap happened, and we all disappeared," the girl explains, playing with Bob's Rubik's Cube as they look out at the landscape from the roof of the house. "But it only lasted a couple of minutes until they brought us back, and we fought again, this time defeating Thanos. Thanks to Tony."

"The Tony Stark?" he asks in amazement, and she nods "That's amazing."

"That's when I met Bucky. Well, a couple of years ago, when this whole Sokovia Accords thing came up," she shrugs. "We fought on opposing teams led by Tony and Steve. It was my first time trying to participate in something that was considered good."

Y/N is quiet for a moment, a look on her face as if she's internally debating whether to share another important part of her life.

"And then I met Dieter."

Bob mimics her silence and swallows as the girl's face falls for a moment.

"Dieter was the one from...?" he ventures to ask, remembering the boy who appeared once they were in the void.

She makes a sound with her mouth, nodding her head.

"Dieter was a great friend," she admits, and stops moving the cube in her hands, feeling a chill run through her body. "He was someone who helped me when I was alone, and when I kept getting into trouble. Never left my side, even though he knew how dangerous it was to be with me."

Y/N looks down for a few seconds and swallows to relieve the pain forming in her throat. Bob notices this and the goosebumps forming on her arms, so without a second thought, he takes off the navy blue sweater he's wearing and gently touches her arm.

"Oh, it's okay," she says, laughing slightly.

"You know it's not," he says softly.

Y/N stares at him and lets Bob pull the sweater over her head, gently adjusting it on her body. It's bigger than it looks, and her nostrils instantly smell Bob's perfume, feeling the warmth of the garment immediately embrace her.

Bob remains in a short-sleeved shirt and crosses his arms.

"Now you'll be cold," she mentions, noticing the gesture.

He shrugs and dares to try flirting with her.

"Next time you can return the favor," he says, looking into her eyes.

Y/N raises an eyebrow and the corner of her lips lifts in a smirk.

"Next time, huh?" she asks, connecting her gaze with his.

The girl ventures to rest her head on the brunette's shoulder, making him freeze and feel his heart pounding, hoping she won't notice so easily. Then she wraps her arm around his and allows herself to continue appreciating the scenery.

"Next time, then," she promises.

Neither of them wants the moment to end, so Y/N asks a question to continue the conversation between them.

"Have you been okay?" She feels Bob let out a heavy sigh.

"You could say so," he answers, uncertain about the matter. He's not sure how he feels either. "Sometimes I spend sleepless nights afraid I'll lose control again. Or I can't stop moving just to have something else to think about. I wasn't as lost when I was on drugs as I am now."

She listens intently and steps away from him to get a better look. The man clenches his jaw and continues staring straight ahead.

"I'm a lost cause," he admits with a bitter taste in his mouth. "I always have been, and I always will be. I couldn't quit drugs, I lost important people because of my damn head and that damn other me that tries to consume me every day. I lose control and it's like I'm not me and... it doesn't matter if I try if I can't even take control of myself."

Y/N looks at him, sympathetic. She knows what it's like to feel that way and hates seeing him dejected by it.

"I'm lucky you and Yelena were there, and Bucky decided to trust me, and the rest too. But I still feel like I'm not worth it. I don't think I will."

Y/N licks her lips and places a hand on the man's cheek, making him look into her eyes.

"You are worth it. And you're not a lost cause," Y/N assures him in a firm voice. "We all go through it on the team, but at the end of the day, we were able to make it happen. It's up to us to change that, even if we have to take small steps to achieve it."

Bob looks at her, and his gaze softens.

"You have us to keep you company," she tells him with a slight smile. "You have me, too. And I'll make sure you don't forget why you've been doing this in the first place."

The brunette lowers his gaze to the girl's lips and thinks about how much he wants to kiss her, knowing that she will be with him throughout this entire process.

"You want to kiss me, huh?" she asks, amused, and he blushes, realizing he thought it out loud.

"I mean... well, it's not that I want to kiss you. Well, yes, but... I mean..." he stutters and freezes by the action of the girl.

Y/N kisses his cheek for a few seconds and pulls away to look at him again.

"I understand," she says, then lets out a sigh and gets up. "I think it's best to go to sleep, what do you say?"

He nods and jumps up, picking up the Rubik's Cube piece. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sleep, of course."

Void was awake.

He wandered aimlessly through the halls of the house, each step heavier than the last.

He was tired of being locked in his own darkness; he just wanted to take control and leave the place once and for all, so he could pursue his desire to dominate everything in his path.

He was a God, someone so powerful that no one could stop him.

However, there was someone who could do it besides Bob, something the dark presence didn't like to accept. Void realized that the time he fought against the Thunderbolts in New York. That time he managed to consume much of the city and its citizens in the darkness he reigned; the entity could have done so if not for a slight obstacle that crossed his path. And it wasn't the group, nor Bob—although it had a lot to do with him when he managed to control his mind and regain total control of himself.

Void walked confidently until he entered the guest room where Y/N was sleeping. The girl slept peacefully, her breathing calm as her chest rose and fell, immersed in the world of her dreams. Her hair fell across her forehead, and Void didn't hesitate to enter the room until he stood at the side of the bed.

Ever since Bob sent him back to the dark side of himself, he never stopped watching Y/N —following her, and feeling her. It was like a magnetic force that involuntarily drew him toward her, and it wasn't her powers that did it. It was her.

Perhaps it was the power the girl could unleash once she knew what she was really capable of, which could be useful to Void. Someone almost as powerful as him at his side, even if he didn't need it, could be an advantage in trying to take control once and for all. He had so much potential, but the girl wasted it doing good.

Void kneels down until he's level with the bed and stares at Y/N, unaware of his presence beside and so close to her. He runs his eyes over every detail of her face, memorizing every mole, freckle, and spot, lingering for a long moment on her lips. Void's jaw tightens and he directs his gaze to the strand of hair falling across her forehead, smoothing it back with his fingers. Y/N stirs in bed, frowning slightly at the cold sensation of something touching her skin.

Void doesn't even flinch.

He stays in place until he sees Y/N relax her frown again and fall back into a deep sleep. He smirks and sits watching her, feeling Bob struggle to get him to leave the room and leave her alone.

He chuckles.

"Oh, Bob," he mutters to himself. "You're not the only one interested in her."

If you hurt her, I swear I'll...

"You'll what? Send me back where I belong?" he sneers, and he feels Bob fighting with all his might to return to the light. "Try it, but you can be sure as hell I'll be back. Now I'm even more eager to meet Y/N. She's a gorgeous, don't you think?"

Don't even try it.

"Oh," he says in a low voice "but i just did"

Void keeps watching her.

"And I will"

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, Non-consensual spanking, Dubious consent, Unwanted arousal, Degradation kink, Face sitting

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist | Taglist | Read on ao3

Tag list: @jmkjournalblog @thecavalrywife @yourbasicqueerie @polaris-likethestar @riosslut @maevaofendora @yippie-kai-gay @w1theredroz3

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy and, as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, and it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two have.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hated both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone. How could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt. You couldn't deny that she was attractive, however. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time finally arrived. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini. When you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted by sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You have never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and stands up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “Reluctant, already?” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky from the juice of the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a slut, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. 

With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio presses firmly against your arched ass, resting her chin on your shoulder and looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, softly shaking her head left to right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She tusks behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the slut now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take more than 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything else besides being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. 

Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so, with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[hello-eden]

Polaris meets constellation

Damian was quite confused. For all Mother spend time with him, it is usually overseeing his training or the two of them talking in one of their rooms. Mother never takes him out of Nanda Parbat.

Mother makes it sound as if it's a birthday gift. His birthday was 3 weeks ago, Damien knows mother knows it was 3 weeks ago, she was there for the celebration.

Damian can feel as the plane touches down onto the ground. Mother makes no show of asking him to follow her; she knows that he will. 

Damian doesn't think that he's ever seen mother outside of Nanda Parbat.

They seem to have landed in a forest. The entire Forest is a sea of lush greens and browns. He can hear animal noises he has never heard before. He hopes that he can see one at least on the way back.

He doesn't think that they're anywhere close to Nanda Parbat. Damian tries to stay close to his mother. He didn't know how long they will be walking but he suspects it will be a while.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They come across a house that is not big by any means but it's not quite small either. It seems to be made out of wood, probably built with the same materials that are in this Forest. It looks quite old.

Mother knocks on the door. Damian doesn't know why he's surprised that she did that, it means there are people in the house if she's trying to be polite.

The person that opens the door seems to be a woman. She has long black hair that is pulled back into a braid. The woman seems to be wearing some sort of black and violet wrap dress. Damian can see chains wrapped around her waist as well as her neck.

 He believes they are some sort of fashion statement.

Mother and the woman just stare into each other's eyes for a moment before the woman turns to look at Damian. she looks him over then turns back to his mother and nods. 

the woman steps away from the door signaling for them to walk in. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Damian walks in he seems to notice how it's not the headquarters that he expected. It seems to be an actual home. There are photos up on the walls of a man, woman and child. there seems to be no pictures of the child younger than five in the entryway.  

The man in the photos has a darker complexion and seems to wear Egyptian style clothes in all of the photos. The woman that let them in seems to be the woman in the photos.

The younger child seems to catch his attention. She looks like a young girl. She seems to have dark brown hair and has the same green eyes as him, the ones he shares with mother.

Mother tells him to sit on the couch and wait for her there as she goes to talk to the woman in the kitchen. Mother does not tell him what they will be talking about. 

As he looks around the living room he notices more pictures than the ones that were in the entryway. The ones in the living room also have his mother.

His mother seems to be smiling. He hasn't seen his mother smile since he was five. As he gets older he notices that more and more.

His mother looks happy in the photos. 

She looks young as well.

There's a photo close to the window that has the child in his mother's arms. this seems to be the only photo of the child as a baby it would seem. 

The baby looks like the ones that he sees in the baby photos that mother used to show him. He knows she didn't mean for him to remember he was quite Young, sometimes he thinks the memories are a dream.

 Damian remembers how his mother used to always dismiss the nurses and just rock him back asleep when he had a nightmare.

Before he started training she used to kiss his forehead whenever he presented her with something; whether it was a small rock he decided was pretty or it was a new blade he had been gifted by a league member on her staff.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he hears movement coming towards the room he sits down on the couch. 

The person that walks in isn't his mother like he thought it was, Nor is it the woman that he saw at the door. He believes it's the young girl from the photos. 

She seems to be 12, maybe 13. He was correct when he thought earlier that she had mother's eyes. 

He hates the jealousy that he feels when he makes that thought. Mother always told him he looked like a father but mother the one who raised him it's logical to want to be closer to her. Even if it's just in looks.

The girl looks shocked.

He does not know if it's because there is someone in the living room or if it's himself that she is shocked by.

she seems to shake her head to snap out of it. 

He's never seen someone express so much emotion on their face. 

She walks up to him and says “hi”

Damien Hesitantly replies “hello”

Just after he replies, Mother walks into the room with the woman from the door.

 Mother is smiling. He hasn't seen mother smile in a long time. He thought the picture from earlier would be the only one he would see.

“Habibi, this is your sister Eleanor“

Damian had been making the connection since he walked in from the door but it's very different when it's set out loud.

He didn't expect his birthday present from mother to be a sibling.

[boneblushed]

do you still have the fic where cruel summer rafe accidentally bails on polaris and she’s pissed at him? that was my FAV. can’t express how happy i am that ur back 💗

Omg yes I do! 💐

—

The only hoax I believe in

You just aren’t this girl.

You haven’t ever been this girl — the sit primly on the porch steps with your hands clasped in your lap sort of girl, the sweetheart-next-door that’s always been there, always will be.

The convenient option; the one that’ll wait around forever.

You consider yourself the exact opposite, especially when considering the forbidden fruit-esque circumstances that have underpinned your… well, your whatever it is this summer fling is meant to be.

And you know that this is unfair of you to do; you’d agreed to keep it casual — the pair of you may as well have shook on the no-strings-attached terms.

Which means, Rafe Cameron doesn’t owe you anything. If he bails on a date—is it a date, really? Suddenly, you aren’t sure whether it’s worth of the title—that’s entirely his prerogative. You know this. It doesn’t mean that his jilting hurts any less than it does.

You wait under your ugly porch light for an entire, pathetic hour before you admit defeat and retire inside. There’s a book tucked under your arm that you’d been pretending to read as you sat outside, a silly attempt at nonchalance for when he’d arrive in his pick-up truck. An illusion of half a heart, as if you weren’t already falling for Rafe Cameron and his small town charm. It feels even worse as it presses into your side now, once bathed in yellows, then deeper oranges, holding every hue of dusk until velvet obscured the pages.

Whatever. It isn’t as though you’d been looking forward to seeing him all week long. (You had. Mid-way through summer with enough Rafe in your bones to make them ache when he wasn’t around, you’d been yearning for a midnight rendezvous, the sort of skin-on-skin that burned as much as it buzzed. He’d been awfully cagey since that party he’d hosted at Tannyhill last week, and you had a funny feeling it had something to do with that dodgy drug dealer who’d been ushering him into private meetings all evening.)

You beeline for the kitchen and retrieve a bottle of wine from the fridge, placing it onto the counter before hopping up onto it yourself. The book replaces it as you uncork it to take a generous pull, a sharp tang to it that makes you wince a bit. You pry your phone out of the back-pocket of your denim shorts, taking another swig.

Rafe Cameron: nearly there. I’ll explain everything, I promise

You wince some more, a funny twinge in your chest that has nothing to do with the over-fermented wine.

Polaris: don’t bother loverboy, I’m heading to bed

His typing bubble appears at an alarming speed, but you lock your phone and throw it onto the counter before he’s able to respond. You aren’t interested in reading his excuses. You tell yourself that this is because your situationship doesn’t call for any, as if the odd hankering in your ribcage isn’t a direct result of his behaviour.

You frown stubbornly, tipping back the bottle of liquor for the third time tonight. It’s cool on your lips but burns as it goes down, a rim of clear gloss encircling the glass finish. It glints yellow in the sconce lighting.

Underneath your porch lamp, Rafe Cameron’s signet ring blinks back in acknowledgement. You jump when he raps his knuckles against the window.

He has this miserable, almost pleading look on his face that shouldn’t make him look as handsome as it does. His thick eyebrows are furrowed, blue eyes muted by chagrin, and the way his shoulders fold forward makes his figure look smaller than normal.

He’s holding a bottle of wine in his hand that’s definitely as expensive as it looks. In the other, there’s this stupid-looking bouquet of flowers that appears as though it’s been thrown together by a toddler. Roses with wilted thorns, daisies with petals missing; it’s a mess of rouge and buttery white, a sheet of crinkled cellophane holding it together.

You raise your eyebrows at him, your gaze skating over the makeshift peace offerings with skepticism.

He holds them up hopefully, nodding at the discarded phone beside you. You pick it up and turn it over to find another text from him.

Rafe Cameron: bet this prosecco’s better than the shit you’re drinking

You send him a too-weak glare in response, taking another stubborn pull of the wine and trying not to make a face.

“Let me in?” He mouthes, looking a perplexing mix of gallant and repentant. He taps the rim of the bottle against the glass window again. “Please?”

You tap your own bottle against your wrist. “It’s late.”

“I don’t care.” His arm drops. “I’ll sleep here.”

You frown. “No you won’t.”

As if to prove his point, Rafe replaces the Prosecco in his hand with a porch chair pillow. It’s old and weather-beaten, the flaxen cover as rough as his calloused palm. “I’m not leaving.”

You sigh tiredly, jumping off the counter with the liquor held against your chest protectively. Makeshift armour that makes your thoughts a little hazy.

Rafe’s cologne makes it hazier. It’s an onslaught of patchouli and musk when you open the door to him, body-heat and closeness pressing over you in waves. He steps over the threshold quick, scared that you’ll change your mind, a safe distance away a second ago and now chest to chest with little regard for personal space.

You startle at his proximity, reaching around his torso to close the front door. He swivels in tandem until you’re backed up against it, splaying his hand on the hardwood beside your ear. The handmade bouquet is still held within his clutches, stalks and cellophane crinkling noisily as he squashes them. The other is still by his side. He wants to press the Prosecco in it against your waist, make you shiver and fall into his arms, but he knows that he’s already pushing it by how close to you he’s standing.

“Rafe Cameron,” you sigh, once over the initial surprise. You glance up at him reproachfully. “I’m not in the mood tonight, alright?”

Rafe’s chest aches, and his harried features crumple on instinct. “I know. I — shit, I know I should’ve called, but it was such a last minute thing and I didn’t think it would take as long as it did.”

“What was?” You ask, raising your eyebrows up at him.

Rafe grimaces some more. He already knows that you aren’t going to like what he says next. “Uh�� I’m not at liberty to say?”

“Right,” you scoff, shaking your head. “Of course you aren’t.” You cross your arms over your chest, wine bottle tangled within the soft limbs, and attempt to duck under his shoulders and wriggle past his figure.

He doesn’t let you. Rafe drops the bouquet, save a rose with some petals missing, tucking it into your hair to free his hand and cradle your jaw. It’s a sloven pressure, almost desperate. His thumb swipes over your cheek, the rough and cold to your soft and hot. “I’d tell you if it was important,” he says then, his voice quiet. “I would. But it isn’t.”

You sigh again, forcing yourself to look up at him. “You realise that that makes no sense, right?” You whisper, leaning into his touch without meaning to.

“Can we pretend it does?” He asks, ducking his head to eye level. His places the Prosecco onto the ground too, allowing his hand free purchase on your waist, bare and exposed. He’s closer now than he was a second ago, every ridge of his abdomen on your singlet as he presses into you. “Shit — please? Because right now, you’re the only thing that’s even remotely important to me.”

Your heart twists. You break eye contact. “If that was true, you wouldn’t have bailed.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His hand slips under your singlet selfishly, kneading the bare skin of your waist. “I — shit… it was a business meeting, alright? Barry organised it without telling me, and I didn’t think it’d go as late as it did.”

“Oh,” you exhale, looking up at him again. God, you’re so beautiful it makes him ache. He can see your features softening in real time, this slow motion film of all the way that he’s bad for you. “What kind of business meeting?”

Rafe grimaces helplessly. “I’m —”

“— not that liberty to say, right,” you finish grimly, pulling his arm away from your waist. “But you are at liberty to expect forgiveness after standing me up?”

Rafe runs his fingers over his buzzcut, looking reasonably chagrined. “I guess not.” His other hand, the one that’s cradling your jaw, drops to his side as he takes a step back. You ache. And then you hate yourself for it.

“Whatever,” you mutter, scrubbing your cheek absentmindedly. His thumb was there once. You miss it already. “It’s not like you actually owe me anything, Rafe Cameron.”

He frowns. “Huh?”

“I mean,” you gesture between your figures vaguely, avoiding eye contact, “this… we aren’t together, right? You’re allowed to bail on me without it becoming a thing.”

A pause. If Rafe had a bit of common sense, he’d probably take the out you’ve given him and escape any more admonishment. But between your bare limbs and glowing skin, the fading hickeys on your collarbones, the way your full lips shine, he isn’t sure he’s capable of doing so.

Because Rafe Cameron wants this to be a thing, bad. He wants to be reprimanded for standing you up. He wants an incentive to say no the next time Barry demands an eleventh-hour business meeting.

Especially since he was distracted for the entirety of it, anyway. Your pretty eyes, something about a treasure, your prettier smile, something else about a deal. You on the porch, you in his pick-up, you straddling his lap and he sponged lazy kisses along your neck. The fond look on your face. The way your skin feels when his rough hands skate over your thighs. You, you, you, with no space left in his brain for anything else.

He doesn’t deserve it. You. If he’s already letting you down now, he can’t imagine the hurt he could cause were this to turn into something real.

“Right,” he says after a beat, taking a reluctant step backward. He doesn’t deserve you. He runs his fingers over his buzzcut again, more to keep them busy than anything else. “So… I mean, we…?”

“It’s fine,” you lie. “Just… can you just text me if you’re going to be late, or something? I don’t know. Keep me in the loop.” You wince, hating how needy you sound. “Or… I don’t — whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Rafe murmurs, furrowing his brow. “Polaris. It isn’t. I really am sorry, y’know that? I don’t say that shit to just anyone.”

“Ah.” You smile weakly. “That I believe.”

The ache ebbs a little. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Busy,” you lie. You think you may need a day or two to make sure that you have your priorities straight. Ensure that any budding feelings are squashed before his closeness has them growing.

“The day after, then,” he says, sounding hopeful. “I’ll pick you up same time?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You tell me. Will you?”

“If you’ll let me,” he says, reaching forward and pinching your waist absentmindedly. His hand lingers.

“I shouldn’t, huh?”

“Probably not.”

You look over his features carefully. “But…?”

“No buts,” he murmurs back, stepping closer again. His pupils are inky black and a little blown, any prior chagrin giving way to something stronger. Maybe because he can feel you softening, maybe because he’s impatient and really yearning. His eyes dart to your lips, and he licks his own absentmindedly.

“Rafe,” you whisper, your eyes widening in anticipation.

“Christ, can I kiss you?” He asks them, his voice low, rough around the edges. “All I’ve thought about all day is kissing you.”

“Huh,” you say, swallowing slightly. “Must’ve been some meeting if it’s taking you away from all you’ve been thinking about today.”

“Can’t even remember what we talked about,” he mumbles, inching closer.

“What a waste,” you mumble back, though as he leans in, you turn your head to the side abruptly. His lips brush over your cheek, a featherlight pressure.

“No,” you add, smiling when he groans. His head drops to your shoulder, and the low, rumbling sound vibrates through your ribcage intently. “Going to have to keep thinking about kissing me until the day after tomorrow, I’m afraid.”

“I deserve that,” he murmurs into your bare skin, defeated.

“You deserve that,” you agree, pushing him away. “Now get out of here. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Rafe allows you to do so reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your jaw before angling back fully. It’s wet and rough, his stubble on your throat.

“The day after tomorrow,” he promises.

You fold your arms across your chest faux-sternly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He nods and stumbles back through the door with a sheepish grin on his face, arms raised in surrender. “Enjoy the Prosecco, yeah?”

“And if I don’t?”

“Don’t think I’d survive it, Polaris.” Don’t think I’m going to survive this, either.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you say.

“Maybe it is.” A pause. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.”

—

[bobbedazzled]

POLARIS

pairing: xavier x reader word count: 1.1k content: light angst, main story au, (!!minor spoiler!!) A/N: Xavier prepares to leave on a new mission with the Hunter Association, tasked with exploring new frontiers. As he prepares for his departure, he is faced with a deep internal conflict: Return to his past or stay in your present.

“I can stay,” his grip on your hand tightens. “Just say the word, and I’ll be happy either way.”

You smile, lashes sweeping back your tears. “Go to her, Xavier.”

When the Hunter Association began new efforts to save the population, they decided Xavier should lead a new mission. You were elated for him to take the promotion. You beamed through the crowd at his ceremony, smiling proudly at your former teammate. On stage, however, he never met your eye. He never smiled or voiced any gratitude in his speeches.

After fighting through the crowd around him, eager to network with him, you pull him aside. The music fades, and the noise of the banquet hall becomes distant as you pull Xavier into a quiet corner.

“Hey…” you start softly.

“No, I’m not excited.” Before you can voice your question, he continues, “I’m conflicted.”

“About?”

“I’m not from here!” He strains. “I showed you the report; they want me to—“

“Go back the way you came?” You smile. You understand his panic. Part of you wanted him to decline the offer to pilot the association’s exploration trials. Not long ago, Xavier told you about his origin and how, technically, he’s older than Linkon itself. How he’d need a ship to return to the woman waiting for him, and the H.A. is handing him one. It’s a sloppy prototype, but it serves as a perfect base for him to build on. He didn’t expect to have a chance to go home.

You didn’t expect his fallback to be so close to his present. “Two hundred years is only a couple of generations.” You laugh to yourself, attempting to ease the tension swimming between you two. From the beginning, you told yourself not to be selfish. He’s not supposed to be here, you know that.

Xavier boards the spacecraft, directing others with heavy steps. His departure is near, and you’re losing him with each passing second. He and twelve others will set off to look for a planet with safer living conditions. Linkon’s politicians and researchers' faith in the Association is fleeting, and they are growing fond of the idea of completely jumping ship.

“In my present, very few returned from these missions. I can slip away; I already know Philos will be explored soon. I’m not needed.” You sat with him on nights he worked in the lab, secretly tinkering around the ship to have it operating the way he remembered. The crowd cheers as the announcers tease the countdown. Xavier blankly stares past the flags and confetti dancing with the evening breeze. He’s been hiding since this morning, gazing through the window as the public gathers to watch him lift off. He had been honored with the position, yet now, as the shuttle hummed behind him, his heart pulled in two directions.

“Xavier…” you call, resting a hand on his back. You feel his heart pounding through his uniform, each beat a reminder of how little time is left. He turns away from the glass, repositioning your hand to his face as he closes the gap between you two. You meet eyes, watching his blue eyes dart side to side as he scans every inch of your face, his breath quickening.

“I didn’t expect to be here,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Xavier’s eyes hold a desperate question, but there’s no answer to give. His eyes flicker toward the launch bay, then back to you, and for a moment, he seems lost in time, caught between worlds.

“Xavier?” You repeat. He exhales shakily, unsure of a goodbye.

“I can stay.” His eyes widen. “Tell me to stay.”

Shaking your head, holding back your urge to burst into tears, you say, “I can’t do that to you.”

“I’ll be happy either way.” His grip on your hand tightens, eyes searching yours desperately.

You swallow the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. The hum of the surrounding chatter fades as your pulse quickens. “Go to her, Xavier.”

“She is you.” He tugs you closer. “Past or present, it will always be you.” He sighs. “I just don’t know which version of you needs me.”

“Xavier,” you place your other hand on his face, cupping his cheeks. A tear escapes from the corner of your eye, paving the way for the pool that accumulated to streak the sides of your face. Your hands tremble as you look away, the strength you gathered for this moment completely crumbling at the sight of him pleading for your permission. “You can’t stay here. You’re not supposed to be here,” you murmur, but your voice cracks as you force yourself to speak the truth. “And I’m not supposed to keep you.”

“But I am here.” He bends over so your eyes reunite. “My love…” His eyes soften at the sight of you. He lowers your hands from his face. “You don’t have to be strong. You can be selfish.”

“Xavier—”

Xavier sighs, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss—warm and needy, as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling before it slips away. He leans in as you break away, keeping the distance not far from his lips. The announcer outside faintly haunts the background as the audience roars a response. Xavier completely ignores the buzzing around the two of you as the voices of his crewmen and the other pilots fill the room. The others shake hands and voice goodbyes as they wait to be escorted to the launch ramp. You hear the sweethearts of the other pilots giggle and chat around you, easing the embarrassment that warms your body. Xavier brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

“Xavier,” you push back from him, “You’re already planning to leave without my aether core. I’m being selfish enough.” You break away, trying to steady yourself. “It's unfair to ask for anything more.”

Xavier steps closer, eyes pleading once more as you shake your head. “Fulfill your promise to her.” You carefully break away from him. “To me.”

A figure behind you calls him, tearing his gaze away from you. You turn as he approaches to shake the hands of a Commander. Captain Jenna follows behind to greet Xavier and wish him well. The hum of the shuttle engines is louder now, pulling you both into the present. The crowd is growing restless, and Xavier’s crew calls him over. The shuttle car waits. You take a shaky breath and offer the best smile you can muster, though your heart aches in the space between you. He looks back at you, unable to read his expression. You feel his gaze linger on you long after he disappears into the crowd. The shuttle engines hum, the sound more final than you could have imagined.

[ladykailitha]

My steddie brain never rests. And neither will I!! Bwahahahaha! *cough cough* Sorry about that.

Eddie is a pirate captain. He is a known terror of the Seven Seas. His ship The Hellfire is known by its fearsome Jolly Roger. The skull has devil's horns and has a cutlass and musket on either side.

His first mate is Jeff and his cabin boy is Dustin.

He has a very dedicated crew. They are loyal to a fault and fiercely protective of their captain.

He is a thorn in the side of Lt. Jason Carver. The man tasked to bring him in.

Eddie has been captured a few times, but always his crew mounts a daring escape.

Final Eddie is caught and Carver isn't going to wait until morning to hang him and give his crew time to save him. He knows he'll catch hell for it later, but Eddie must be stopped.

When Carver comes to get him, he finds Eddie looking out the window at the night sky.

"Praying, Munson?" he sneers. "I didn't think your kind believed in God."

Eddie shakes his head. "No God. I worship starlight."

"Starlight?" Carver mocks. "What's so special about starlight?"

"When the moon is new and the stars stretch on forever," Eddie explains a little breathless, never taking his eyes from the window high above him, "you can find your way if you let the North Star lead you. That's what I believe in. The North Star."

Carver scoffs. "You sound like you're in love with a distant twinkle, Munson. I always knew you were mad, but this takes the cake."

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. "Oh that I could love a star, that it could love me back."

Carver motions to his men and they haul him to his feet.

They take him out to the scaffold where the noose is waiting for him. They put the rope around his neck and he whispers. "Goodbye, sweetheart."

Tears run down his face as they tighten the noose. He closes his eyes.

But before they could pull the handle that would send Eddie plummeting to his death a bright light appears blinding everyone but Eddie because his eyes were closed.

He feels a soft warm hand touch his cheek. "Keep your eyes closed for me, won't you?"

Eddie nods. He doesn't know what's going on but even through his eyelids he can tell the light is too bright.

Suddenly there are sounds of screaming and of people being ripped apart. Eddie squeezes his eyes further shut.

Then the rope is being removed from his neck. "Don't open your eyes yet, love," the warm voice murmurs in his ear.

Eddie shivers but not because of the chill of the night, but because the voice sent a sharp thrill straight to his gut.

Then he's being picked up and carried bridal style. Whoever this is keeps telling him he's all right, that he's safe now.

He get set down gently on his feet.

"You may open your eyes now."

And Eddie does only to be greeted by the most ethereal being he's ever seen.

His hair is dark brown with golden highlights and he has hazel eyes. He's wearing robes that shimmer in the light and he gives off a subtle glow.

"Thank you," Eddie murmurs.

The man gives him a gentle kiss. "I will always watch out for you, my beloved Eddie."

"What's your name?"

"Stella Polaris."

Then in a flash he's gone. He makes it back to his ship and tells them the tale.

They don't believe him at first but whenever a battle is turning against them, a light flashes, blinding their enemies and ensuring their victory.

Eddie makes it back to England and is talking to a scholar, getting the old man drunk in a bar.

He says he's an amateur astronomer and Eddie pumps he for information because of his own love of the stars. And he brings up the North Star.

"Ah," the old man says with a nod. "Stella Polaris, the star that is polar. The one star in the sky you can always rely."

And Eddie is floored. His rescuer was the actual North Star.

That night laying in bed at the inn, Eddie says, "My own star. Well, I'll be damned."

Then Stella Polaris arrives in his room.

Eddie leaps from the bed and kisses him senseless.

"Stella Polaris is a bit of a mouthful for every day, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs between heated kisses. "What should I scream when you fuck me?"

The star laughs. "You can call me Steve."

"Well, come on, then, Stevie," Eddie coos wagging his eyebrows. "The night is young and I have been aching for you since you rescued me."

They tumble into the bed and have sex. The next morning comes, and Eddie wakes up to find a small little starburst scar just a above his heart that he'll later get tattooed.

For the star that fell in love with a pirate and the pirate who loved it back.

[vulpixisananimal]

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} [Loop] (Siffrin) (Wren belongs to @fungal--wastes)

(You were looking out the window of your room down to the small courtyard next to the inn. Ramos, Isabeau, Vixul, and Mirabelle had all teamed up to do some training together. It was amazing to watch them all work. They'd paired up to practice with each others weapons. Mirabelle and Vixul, Isabeau and Ramos.)

(Isabeau you knew, big defender that he is. It was hard to take your eyes from him, with how he moved, how he was able to take hits like brick, with how he was smiling the whole time. So confident, strong, he didn't even need a weapon.)

(Ramos you were still learning, but they were fast and strong, like a middle ground between you and Isa. They could get in fast, hurt hard, then stand their ground. Tonfas suited them. The vest and bandana made sense too, like some, cool bandit look, or. . . You shake your head.)

(Mirabelle had been working to get better ever since your fight with Perci. She was always quick on her feet, and was able to sting. She often reacted to things far before her more ration brain caught up; which lead to many accidental bruises.)

(And Vixul, she was fast too, and nimble. She used a spear and knew how to get in and get out quickly. Although, she eventually swapped from spear to a pair of. . . What looked like gauntlets with armor that extended up the forarms. She fought differently, now, more defensive. You'll have to think about that.)

(There's a knock on the door. You sigh, and get up. You're supposed to be resting, but you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was Bonnie coming to nag you about rest again. You go over and open the door.)

". . . Afternoon, Siffrin." (Wren was standing at the door, expression unchanging, as usual.) "May I come in?"

"Uh. . ." (Well this is a surprise.) "Sure?"

"Thank you."

(You turn, walk to your bed, and sit down.) "Haha, sorry it's a mess, don't exactly have the energy to-"

(You were cut off by Wren closing the door, and locking it.)

(You continue.) ". . . Toooo clean up the place, y'know?

"Quite." (He walked over to the small table and chair the room had and placed his book on the table.) "Can we just skip past the small talk, Siffrin?"

". . ." (Oh this was turning from worrying to potentially dangerous. Where did you put your dagger again?) "Uuuuh, oookaaay?"

"Good." (He tilts his head slightly to you, his eyes stabbing directly into your soul.) "You made a wish to be able to turn back time, no? And it was most likely made when you were about to face the King?"

(You can't cover your shock fast enough. He smiles, and continues.) "It was, wasn't it?"

". . . . . H-how-"

"You knew exactly where to find our antagonists. You know things you shouldn't about myself and my companions. You knew Polaris was effected by mind craft before I or Vixul did and exactly what to do about it. And you had a level of craft exhaustion that should have by all rights killed you."

(He continues.) "What's more, I did some digging. Did you hear news of that strange sadness in Jouvente? It was at the same time you saviors were all visiting. I overheard that you and Ramos used to be enemies, Ramos can use mind craft, and that you had craft exhaustion back then, too."

"But, that's-"

(He cuts you off.) "Do you know how many traps are in the that House of Change? Or about how overrun by sadness it was? And from what I hear you ran through it all by yourself. And should I even mention the rumors of a shade stained sky?"

". . ."

"And." (He turns to face you fully.) "I listened in on your 'Former Saviors of Vaugarde' team meeting."

(. . . . . . . . What.)

(Wren just walked into your room and tore down your veil of secrets with one swing. He tore it down, ripped it to shreds, and tossed the remains in a fire. You couldn't be mad, confused, or scared; that would come later. Because right now you were just impressed.)

(You fall back on the bed.) ". . . Yeah. It was the day before we fought the King, too."

"Close, then. And everything else?"

"Dead on." (You sigh.) "I spent 20-odd loops in Jouvente trying to deal with Ramos."

"And here?"

"23? 24? Most of those happened in quick succession. That's what really causes the craft exhaustion." (You rub your head.) "It's like, the body needs to recharge, or, something."

"And when you fought the King?"

". . . . 176." (You sit up again.) "Repeating the same two days over, and over, and over again, for almost a year."

". . ." (You look up, Wren was writing in his book.) ". . . Don't worry, this stays between us."

"It had better." (You look away.) ". . . How do you know about wish craft, anyway."

"I learned about it when traveling with Vixul and Polaris."

(A lie.) "No you didn't."

". . . No, I didn't." (He sighs.) "It doesn't matter. What did you wish for?"

"I think it does matter, Wren." (You cross your arms.) "Wish craft isn't just, something you can pick up any regular old book on and learn about. At least not without a big headache."

(Wren was staring at the pages of his book, like he was burning the pages with his mind.) ". . . . What. Did. You. Wish. For."

". . . Wren-?"

"How did you do it." (He cuts you off again, pen pressed to the page.) "What method did you use?"

"I'm not-"

"How far back can you go?" (His voice wavers.) "How. Far."

"W-wren-"

(His pen snaps in two. There's a silence.)

". . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . ." (You tuck your legs under your cloak, and look away.)

". . . . . . . I need to know." (He didn't look at you.) "Please."

". . . I, Wren. . . I, I can't tell you. I-it's complicated-"

"I have all day, Siffrin." (His expression, you knew that expression.)

(It's the expression of someone trying with all their might to hold back tears. You knew that expression, because you had seen a picture of yourself with that same expression dozens of times.)

(Okay, you breathe in, and out.) "I can't tell you, because, because it put me through hell. And, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Try me."

(Is this guy serious?) "Didn't you hear me?!? 176 loops, 352 days, all trying to escape a nightmare where nothing ever changed!!!" (You look away again.) "Whatever you're thinking, it, are, you sure it's worth-"

"I'd loop 300 times." (There's not even a second of hesitation.) "No, I'd do 500. 1,000. Maybe even more. It would be worth it."

(You snap back to him.) "I- you don't, really believe-"

"I do." (His voice is steady.) "I mean every single word, Siffrin."

(. . . . Oh.)

". . ." (He wasn't just serious, he was determined, desperate, begging. There, there was no way out of this was there. J-just, just, keep talking.) ". . . . What's worth it, Wren."

(There is a very, very long silence.)

". . . . . . . . His name was Icarus."

(It's as if you could hear a pin drop.)

(He continued.) "He, he was someone very important to me. . . No, not that. He was the only thing important to me. Every day I would get out of bed because of him. I would endure the world because of him. I would look forward to the nights because of him."

"I would have given him the world, if he asked." (His voice cracks. You see a tear on his cheek.) "If it, if it wasn't for him I would have taken a knife to my throat a long, long time ago."

". . . ." (You had to ask.) "What happened?"

". . . . I, I-I don't know." (He hangs his head down.) "He, h-he's dead, or dying, or somewhere in between it's, I, I can't explain it. And I don't know if I can save him, or if it's too late or if I never could and I'm just wasting my time but I have to try!"

"I have to try."

"I have to try."

". . . . . ."

"Because if I don't try, then he's, he's. . ."

". . . . . . . . . . . ."

(. . . . How could you even respond to that. You couldn't look. It would just, just make you start crying as well.)

[. . . Stardust?]

(Loop? Where have you been-)

[Let me talk to him.]

(. . . O-okay. You close your eye and lean back. You breathe in. . . .)

[. . . .]

[. . . And out. . . . You hold your head in your hand, dizzy. Really dizzy. You wait a second for it to pass, then talk.] ". . . Wren?"

"Siffrin?" (He responds.)

"Close, but no~"

"Right." (He looks at you slightly, eyes dark from tears.) ". . . Loop? Is that the name?"

"Bingo." [You respond, you want to joke around, but your heart isn't in it.]

". . ." [He turns back to the book.] "Here to talk to me?"

"Yes yes, I am." [You roll your eye. You hop back fully on the bed and lay down.] "I'm here to tell you how to make a wish!"

[He looked up suspiciously.] ". . . You are?"

"Yes~" [You put a finger to your chin.] "I'm going to tell you. And I'm going to tell you aaaaaall the details that Siffrin left out~ You're lucky, you know. Not even our good companions know this, so you had better not tell them."

". . . My lips are sealed."

"Good!" [You pause for a second, smiling. Where you really about to tell a stranger this? Yes, you were. What better a place to hide secrets than in another desperate traveler.]

"I made a wish the day before we fought the King to stay with my family. I didn't know that was my wish, just how I did it. I took a leaf that represented me, and whispered my wish into it three times, closed it, and tied it to the tree. And all of a sudden I was in a time loop! And no~ This is very differen't than Stardust- Siffrins experience."

"I had no-one. I was alone in trying to escape it. I was stuck. I battled my way through that house hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times." [You continue to smile. Fake. (You knew how to smile. You knew how to fake it.)] "I beat the King. Once."

[(That Desperate one is looking at you, no doubt his mind at work. He was trying to decypher you. He was trying to tell just what was going on with that messed up little head of yours. Oh he was so, SO clever wasn't he!!)]

[(You continue.)] "One time. Once. Out of thousands, and it cost everything. And even after all that, I was still forced back to try it aaaaaall over again~"

"So I gave up! I gave it all up! I cried, pleaded, begged to the Universe for someone ANYONE to help! And do you know what the Universe did? It gave me exactly what I wished for."

[(Your smile wasn't normal.)] "Next thing I knew I woke up at the foot of that favor tree, a new lightless body of stars and a head as bright as the sun. I was unrecognisiable. Not even to myself~"

[(The Desperates eyes widen, you grinn.)] "Figured it out, haven't you~?"

[(There's a pause, he looks you over, your demeanor, your voice, evereything.)] ". . . You're not a normal alter. You are Siffrin."

"Correct~ Aaaand~?"

". . . You, became a sort of guide, for, a new Siffrin?"

"Correct!!" [(You clap your hands together.)] "Stardust didn't recognise me, no one recognised me. I had a lovely new job as the stagehand for my wonderful replacement actor! Forced to guide him untill the very end~ Oh and I do mean forced. I had to teach them how to kill themself because they asked."

"And now as one last cruel joke, with it all over, the Universe took me and stuck me in their blinding body. Forced to watch their happy ending."

"So! Wren, does that sound worth it to you?"

[There is a long, long, long silence. So long that the sound of your friends sparing outside stopped as they finished. You eventually hear Wren let out a breath.]

[He taps a finger on his book and talked quietly.] ". . . You make. . . A compelling argument, but. . ."

"Buuuuuuut~?"

". . . . ." [There was hesitation.] "I, I can't falter now."

[In too deep.]

". . . I understand." [You stand up.] "That's why I'm going to tell you how."

[You walk over to Wren and drag a chair over to sit next to him, you got a new pen, and you got to work.]

[You tell him about wishes, you tell him about home, and how you repeated wishes three, six, seven, or thirteen times. You told him about how whatever you wished for, you had to believe it. And what you wish for might not be what you think you're wishing for.]

[And you warn him every step of the way.]

[It was like you were writing a script. If one thing was out of place, out of line, then the whole play would collapse. You couldn't stop him, you knew that, but this was the next best thing.]

". . . And one last thing."

"Hmm?" [Wren was finishing writing the last of his notes.]

". . . If you decide to go through with this." [You look away.] ". . . Tell those close to you, about everything."

[He pauses, and glances up.]

[You continue.] ". . . It would have, saved me a lot of time."

[He looks at you a moment, then he lets his face relax and smile just a little.] "I promise."

"Thank you." [You get up and stretch.] "If you're looking for more information, go to the Dormont House of Change."

"I imagine you are very familiar?"

"Down to the brick~" [You collapse face down onto the bed.] "Now get out of here, I'm tired."

"Well since you asked so nicely." [He gathers his things, pauses a moment, and goes to leave.]

". . . Wren."

[He pauses.] ". . . Yes?"

". . . . ." [You turn your face away.] "Please, don't make the same mistakes I did."

[There's a pause.] ". . . I'll, do my best. Thank you, Loop."

"Save it." [You hold up a finger.] "Save it for when, for when you don't end up like me."

[woantohae]

Powerful || (Bob "Sentry" Reynolds x Polaris! oc)

Summary: After forming as a team, the Thunderbolts* plan to confront Valentina about what happened. On the way to what used to be the Avengers tower, Bob seems to be interested in Y/N and her powers.

What they did not expect is that the harmless Bob has turned out to be more powerful than they thought.

《tags: angst, fluff, violence, dark! Sentry, The Void, Bob being a sweetheart, jealousy, bucky having a "past history" with Y/N》

After the explosion, everyone reached an agreement—luckily—to talk to Valentina about it.

Yelena had made a call to a trusted person who took no more than 30 minutes to arrive with a red suit on and a shield in the passenger seat to where they were and take them to the Avengers tower. Or what used to be the Avengers tower.

The tension still hung in the air, everyone looked at each other from the corner of their eyes and no one could fully trust the other. Bob was sitting upright in the back seat of the van with his hands in his lap, looking at Y/N's profile next to him and looking out the window.

"I'm Bob. Robert Reynolds," he tells her suddenly, watching as she looks back at the boy warily.

"Y/N Maximoff" she replies. He smiles and shakes his head.

"I know," she frowns slightly. "I've heard about you and your sister, Wanda Maximoff. You guys are awesome."

The black-haired woman settles into her seat and feels the gaze of the rest who remain silent.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes immediately. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable...."

"You didn't," she mentions, "And thank you." Bob smiles slightly.

He fiddles with his fingers in a nervous manner.

"I have to admit, I think your powers are cool," he says quietly. Y/N raises an eyebrow, looking at him amused.

"Yeah? Not everyone thought like that," she admits.

Bob frowns slightly. "Why is that?"

"Because I haven't exactly used them for good." Yelena watches her in the rearview mirror, while the rest listen attentively.

"What have you done?" Ava asks.

"Something that not many would be proud of, but I couldn't say the same"

Bob watches her carefully, feeling something that makes him interested in the girl. He doesn't know if it's compassion, empathy or complicity.

"Is it too bad?" Alexei asks from the pilot's seat. Then he lets out a laugh "I'm not one to judge others."

Y/N smiles sideways. Before she can answer, they hear gunshots from behind the car. Bob is startled as Y/N turns her head to look outside.

"We have company," she announces, "And not the good kind."

Everyone becomes alarmed as soon as they see the shots closer and the danger lurking around them. Yelena is in charge of shooting some men who are riding a motorcycle.

"Yelena, daughter, don't worry" says Alexei as he accelerates "I have everything under control"

The shooting continues and the man driving does nothing to calm the situation.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take care of it?" Y/N asks, watching them approach.

"No, I have everything under control!"

Suddenly, the sound of a new motorcycle is heard and everyone watches. He looks familiar, Y/N thinks.

"Is that Bucky?" John squints his eyes to get a better look at him.

Alexei laughs frantically and victoriously.

"It's the Winter Soldier," he exclaims as he continues driving. "I told you everything would be under control."

Bucky rides the motorcycle and stops for a moment to pull out a large gun and point it at our car.

"That's not good" Yelena mentions.

"What is he doing?" Ava asks.

"Oh, shit" Bob whispers next to the black-haired girl.

Suddenly, he shoots and releases a rope that is caught under the moving car and in an instant he stops them abruptly, turning the car around.

Y/N tries to ensure that the vehicle does not end up crushing them, with her powers she removes the car doors with a movement of her hands to escape with the others. She helps Bob out and suddenly a dark gas begins to form in the air, emitting a strong smell.

"Shit. What is that smell?" Alexei asks complainingly.

Y/N's gaze becomes blurred and she notices how the rest struggle to stay standing, while in the distance she sees the figures of men approaching them. She coughs and tries to use her powers, but her vision blurs.

"Shit, it's sleep gas," Yelena says. She falls trying to keep her eyes open.

Y/N falls to her knees and notices Bob approaching her.

"Hey, it'll be okay..." Bob says. The black-haired woman struggles not to close her eyes and the last thing she sees is how Bob is carried by men to a truck.

Then, some boots interfere with her vision.

"It's good that you woke up. I was already starting to wonder when I would have to do it by force."

Y/N opens her eyes and finds Bucky.

"Bucky, what are you doing here? Why do you have us tied up?" John asks "Are you with them?"

"Those are a lot of questions, Walker. I only have one answer," he says calmly. He looks at each one until he reaches Y/N, who looks at him amused "Y/N."

"James" she answers.

"Do you know each other?" Ava asks, looking from one to the other.

"Let's just say that we were fighting against each other and then next to each other" Y/N answers simply. Suddenly, remembering when they fought alongside against Thanos.

"Something like that," Bucky murmurs.

"Wait, that means she used her powers on your metal arm?" Alexei asks interestedly.

Y/N nods satisfied and Bucky shakes his head, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't know why I thought this would be a good idea," he mutters.

"Would you answer the question that you can answer for us now?" Yelena asks.

He looks at her and sits back up. "You are here because I need your help to settle some issues with Valentina"

"Wow, that's new," Ava says sarcastically.

"Valentina seems to be very famous these days," Yelena says, then motions for him to continue.

"Where is our friend Bob?" John asks, looking around.

"That's what it's about, actually," Bucky continues. Y/N watches him with a mix of confusion and surprise on her face.

"What did they do to Bob?" she asks.

"His name is Robert Reynolds. He was a former soldier who broke into a laboratory to look for something to get high with," Bucky begins to say, as he approaches them and begins to untie the ropes that surrounded his hands. "Apparently, he found the Super Soldier serum and mistook it for a drug. He consumed it and gained powers from it."

"So? Just like the one they gave you and me," John says casually.

"This serum is a thousand times more powerful than the one we have in our blood," Bucky says seriously, untying the black-haired girl. "It has the power of 10 suns."

"What does he have to do with all this?" Y/N asks, caressing her wrists. "He was with us when the explosion happened."

Bucky sighs.

"He works for Valentina" he responds. Everyone frowns "They keep experimenting with him to make him their own puppet and weapon against everything they think should be eradicated"

"Geez, Bob," Alexei murmurs.

Y/N feels something in her chest.

"You were also with Valentina. Why are you telling us this information now?" Ghost asks, standing next to Taskmaster.

"Because I ran away from her as soon as I found out her true plans," he explains, standing with his arms crossed and hardening his face. "She doesn't want to protect the city. She wants to control it. And with Sentry.... she can do it"

"Sentry?" Yelena asks.

Bucky smiles sideways.

"Her weapon" he answers "Bob"

Everything is silent for a brief moment. Yelena thinks about what is going to happen now, while Y/N reflects on the new information. Bob looked harmless and seemed to doubt his own actions, so why would he work with Valentina?

"What do we do now?" Ava asks in a firm voice.

"I'd say get ready to visit Valentina," Bucky answers simply.

"It smells like a trapped cat to me," Alexei mentions.

"Yes. Because she is waiting for us" Yelena responds as if it were obvious "We must be ready"

"So what? We work as a team?" John asks, laughing mockingly "We are not heroes, we can't fly and we don't have the strength to fight if we have to fight Bob."

"I can fly," Y/N shrugs.

"How cool," Alexei responds.

"If things get messy, we could hold him back as long as we can," Y/N offers. Bucky looks at her nodding.

"So..? Are you in on this or not?"

Yelena rolls her eyes. "We have no other option. Do we?"

The group went up the elevator, although it was not easy at all.

They had to fight against the tower guards and Valentina's team. When the elevator opens, they enter with a slow but sure step, watching as Valentina greets them from the bar with a calculating smile, while she pours herself a drink.

"Oh, how wonderful. Teamwork," she says as she approaches them with a superior air. "I must say, I didn't have faith in you, but you guys look so adorable together."

"Eat shit, Valentina" Yelena intervenes without playing along.

"My little Yelena, you should watch your language," she says, laughing and taking a sip of her drink. "I think we all know why we're here, right?"

"Apparently so," Bucky replies. Valentina watches him without her smile fading.

"Oh, James. Now you betray your own?" She puts a hand on her chest, feigning indignation. "I expected you to be more honorable and with values. Like your friend Steve."

Bucky clenches his jaw.

"Cut the crap, Valentina," Y/N says. "Tell us why you wanted to get rid of us if you were the one who called us."

Valentina smiles at the black-haired girl and approaches her. "Let's face it, darling" she catches up with the girl. "Didn't yourself come for your own reasons, or should I remind you that you wanted to know information about your dead sister?"

Y/N freezes.

"What did you say?" She asks under her breath as she moves her fingers to start choking Valentina's neck with the necklace she was wearing. She begins to choke, releasing the cup from her fingers, which falls to the ground shattering, while the rest tells Y/N to stop.

"Your precious sister is dead" Valentina says in a choke. And the girl doesn't want to believe that.

It's not possible.

"Y/N, stop," a cautious voice orders her.

The group along with her turns to see the individual, who is wearing a gold and blue suit in all its splendor. The man approaches them with sure steps and stands next to Valentina while Y/N stops using her powers.

"Nice, move. Bob," John spits. Bob looks at the soldier with a hard look and then passes it to Y/N who does not take her gaze off of him. Valentina laughs.

"Dear Bob is going to help me protect the city from future threats," she says, catching her breath. "The Avengers are no longer there. There is only us."

"The only thing there will be with you will be destruction and chaos" Bucky snaps, going firmly to Valentina.

Bob, sensing the danger, stands in front of it and faces it.

"Bob, you better stop them before they start making a mess," Valentina asks.

She starts to leave and everyone tries to stop her. Ghost appears next to her, but Bob throws her across the room with a wave of his hand. John and Yelena go to stop Bob, but he beats them.

The man tries to defend himself with the shield, but Sentry bends it with one blow. It's a miracle he didn't destroy it. Taskmaster begins to shoot, but is thrown to the other side, crashing into the wall, falling unconscious to the ground. Y/N tries to lift a metal table and throw it at Bob, who avoids it by moving, giving her a look before confronting Bucky. The black-haired man gives him the first blow with his metal arm, but the blonde stops him with his effortless strength.

"You think you can save the rest, but you can't even save yourselves," Bob spits and rips Bucky's metal arm off, throwing him across the room.

Alexei screams and lunges at the blonde, who throws him out the window, causing the bearded man to fall from the top of the tower to the street. Yelena screams when she sees him.

Suddenly, something changes in the environment. Or rather, inside Bob who seems to fight against something that consumes him slowly. Y/N watches him along with the rest, seeing how his suit, which was gold, begins to darken completely, turning black. Bob's timid eyes transform into darkness and pure coldness.

"You poor scumbags" he spits. "You can't defeat me"

Y/N uses her powers, but the new entity stretches out its arm and the girl feels how it draws her close to the air until it chokes her by the neck. He smirks at the girl in his hands.

"I see why he likes you," the man mentions with darkness in his tone.

He turns to the rest and smiles evilly. "If you excuse us, I'm going to take her with me"

The rest try to stop him, but it is impossible.

The Void disappears with her into the shadows it creates in its wake.

....

Part III

[curses-of-the-void]

Stars Shining - Derek Hale

Fandom(s): Teen Wolf

Wordcount: 1188

Warning(s): Discussions of death, lots of talking, kisses

Summary: Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you.

Soft jazz plays from her stereo in the corner of the room as she lounges in her bed, book held aloft as she clenches her pencil between her teeth, trying to find the part that she wanted to underline again, when a tapping sound at her window startles her. Rolling over onto her stomach, she narrows her eyes at the window pane as a tapping starts on the window once more. Sliding off the edge of her bed, she grabs the bat at her feet, inching towards the window, and she flinches as the tap of a stone on window makes her startle, before she frowns.

Unlocking the window, she slides it up with the bat still in her hand, dodging another rock as she pokes her head out the window, pausing at sight of Derek Hale standing at the base of the tree outside the Stilinksi house. Frowning, she sets her bat to the side, stepping back as soon as Derek scales the outside of the house, before he leans against the wall beside the window, crossing his arms over his chest as she drops onto her bed.

"What were you hoping to do with that?" Derek asks, jerking his head to the bat on the floor.

"You have claws, I have a bat."

"What is with you Stilinksis and your answers? It's almost like you and Stiles are the same person." Derek says, and she laughs, running her fingers through her hair as she shrugs.

"He's my little brother." She explains, picking up her book from where she had set it, pencil plucked from the spine, where she placed it to mark her place. "What's up? You've never come here like this, before."

"I just needed an escape." He shrugs. "Being alone with Peter can be draining."

"So, you thought I was a better choice?" She laughs, laying back on her bed as she folds her book shut, tossing it onto her bedside table.

"You're calm... mellow." Derek answers.

"You mean boring?" She sits up, carding her fingers through her hair to push it back from her face. "You can say it. I'm boring."

"Since we're saying it, yeah. You are boring. But, maybe boring is what I need right now." She laughs again, leaning back in the sheets as she crosses her legs, staring up at the star-studded ceiling.

"When I was younger, I was never boring." She admits, fingers gripping the sheets to pull at the loose strings, a habit she's always had- it drove her dad nuts when she started doing it, because she would pluck a hole in them, causing it to unravel further, so he'd constantly have to replace them- He never said anything though, because it only started after Claudia died. "I wanted to travel, and do stuff, and now I'm stuck in my hometown, in my childhood bedroom, no less, because I can't leave my brother to run around like an idiot, because his idiot best friend became a werewolf!" She laughs at herself, pressing a hand to her forehead, surprised when Derek sits on the edge of the bed.

"What did you want to do? Where did you want to travel?" He asks, her lips spreading into a smile as she looks up at the blue of her ceiling.

"I wanted to go to the mountains. To Colorado. I wanted to live in a cabin, and walk amongst the stars and trees."

"You can do that, here."

"At the added risk of being bitten, ate, or scratched."

"You could get that anywhere. Especially with bears." He chuckles, and she slaps him lightly on the arm.

"Look," She points at the painted blue ceiling, the stars that stick to the ceiling are meant to glow, but the lamplight is glowing now, so they won't light up. He shuffles down to lay on the bed beside her, and she smiles over at him "There's ursa minor, or The Little Bear, or the little dipper. You see at the tip of the tail there, it's Polaris, and then bup bup bup bup bup!" She points to the cluster of stars, five away from Polaris. "That is Cepheus. That star over there is Navi, and then Shedar, along with those two, it makes up the constellation Cassopeia."

"You really like the stars enough to name em?"

"I used to go outside at night, with my mom, and we'd lay under the stars, and she'd tell me stories about them. Those over there, is The Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters." She bites her bottom lip in thought. "The Pleiades were the seven daughters of Atlas, a Titan that has forever been cursed to hold up the sky. Zeus turned the sisters into stars to protect them from Orion, the hunter, but one of the sisters fell in love with a mortal, and went into hiding. That's why there are only six visible in the night sky, now."

"So, you know the stories too?" Derek asks, and she sits up, smirking at him.

"There are thousands of legends. But, I prefer the Greek ones. I have a passion for mythology." She shrugs as he looks up at the ceiling again.

"So, you studied the night sky enough, to memorize the layout of the constellations, and replicate it on your ceiling. Although, condensed." Derek frowns for a second. "But, this isn't the sky that's outside your house, is it?" She frowns then, looking away as she rubs her hands on her pant legs, and he sits up. "What?"

"No, it's uh..." She looks back at him with a sad smile. "It's the sky outside the hospital." Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he nods, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders, surprising her when he drags her in for a hug.

"I'm sorry." She lets out a wet laugh, sounding shocked and hollow. "I am."

"I know." She pulls back, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I just find it ironic that you're comforting me. Yeah, I lost my mom, but you lost... everyone." She strokes his cheek as he looks down at her, his eyes flicking between her own. She sucks in a sharp gasp when he leans in, kissing her, and she hums, eyes fluttering shut as she leans into it, kissing him back. "W-Why did you do that?" She murmurs, once they part, and Derek looks down at her, a troubled furrow to his brow as he sweeps his thumb across her chin.

"Because... you're beautiful, and kind, and gentle, and you light up when you talk about things you love, and... I couldn't resist." He leans in to kiss her again, and she sighs as she leans into him, hands clutching his shirt as he tangles his own into her hair.

"You're lucky, Derek Hale."

"Lucky?" He breathes, nose brushing against her own, and she peers uo at him with wide eyes.

"I don't normally kiss on the first date."

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ask Game:

8. "Who did this to you." and 24. Showing up at friend/mentors house.

With hurt Danny and any/all of the Bats.

Okay, but holy shit, you have no idea how perfect this one is. I was imagining a scenario with both of these earlier today. This is an alternate version of Bring Me Home where Danny and Tim were online friends from the time they were preteens. The actual fic will not go this way, so I'm so excited to have an excuse to share this version with y'all.

Nonny, I absolutely love you for sending these two in (no romo).

For those who don't follow Bring Me Home. Tim's username was IKnowYourSecrets and Danny often calls him "Secrets." Danny's username was -xXPolarisXx- and Tim will call him "Polaris."

And for everyone, Sam and Tucker ended up with codenames after all their adventures in Amity. Sam is referred to as Regrowth and Tucker as Pharaoh. This will come up later in Bring Me Home, but hasn't yet (mainly bc what I'm writing now takes place before those events).

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Danny's vision blurred and he felt himself fall a dozen feet. He clutched his stomach tighter and grit his teeth against the pain.

He was almost there. He could make it.

With the last of his strength, he shot an ectoblast into the sky and fell a few more feet, hitting the roof of a building. He scrapped along the rough surface and the only reason he didn't scream was because he couldn't catch his breath enough to. Everything hurt.

He couldn't even push himself up and so just lay there, trying and failing to catch his breath. Not even when he heard a strange noise and footsteps behind him could he move. He tensed as much as possible.

"Who are you?" asked a man.

Danny just groaned. He hurt. He needed Tim.

The footsteps got closer and Danny opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He saw black boots and skin-tight leggins.

Then the man was kneeling. Blue accents on his chest, a domino over his eyes.

Danny let out a sigh. It tasted of ectoplasm. "Ni-win," he slurred.

"So you know who I am, who are you? What happened? How can I help?"

"R— R'bin. Know me."

"You're looking for Robin?"

His vision was going dark. "R'bin. Yea. Secrets. Friends."

"I'll get Robin here. Can you tell me your name?"

"Polaris. Tell—" Danny coughed weakly and spat out more ectoplasm. "Tell 'im, 'M ready to accept 'is offer."

"I will," promised Nightwing.

The blackness crept in further. Danny could hear Nightwing still talking, but couldn't make out the words. Everything was getting fuzzy. But he was in Gotham. Tim was here. Tim would make it all better. He let go.

---

Despite the quiet night, Tim was tense. He couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. So when Dick's panicked voice came over the comms asking Damian about a secret friend, he was already pulling up Dick's location.

He was on the roof of Tim's civilian apartment building. Which, what?

"I do not have any secret friends," came Damian's reply.

"He's a meta. Caucasian with white hair. He's hurt bad, bleeding everywhere. Lazarus green blood—"

Tim's blood ran cold and he wished he could grapple faster. "Fuck! I'm heading to your location now. He's my friend, not Robin's. Bring him into my apartment. He needs specialized medicines and I've a supply."

"He called himself Polaris. Said he's ready to accept your offer," said Dick.

"Shit. Fuck. Okay. Eta, fifteen minutes."

"I'll get him inside."

"Don't try to treat his injuries," Tim ordered. "Human treatments won't work."

"Understood."

"And..." Tim hesitated, "Did he say how he was injured?"

"No. He passed out before he could."

Tim cursed again, but didn't reply further, despite the way the rest of his family demanded information. If it was the GIW, he'd need to arrange extraction for Sam and Tucker. But if it was Danny's parents... Well, he might just cross a line he swore he'd never cross when he first put on the Robin suit.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sliding the window to his apartment open. Dick had Danny laid out on the floor and was stripping him and pulling away loose bandages, revealing a large Y-shaped incision on his chest.

Dick looked up at him, face grim. Tim didn't let himself pause to look and ran to his bedroom and threw open his closet door. He slid open a hidden compartment revealing a safe and, with shaking fingers, punched in the code. The door swung open and he grabbed the silver-and-green case inside.

He rushed back to Danny's side. "Who did this to you?" he mumbled as he took stock of the injuries.

"Do you have any idea who might've wanted to hurt him?" asked Dick.

"With these wounds, it would be either the GIW or his parents." Tim bit back a hysterical laugh. "Been trying to get him away from them for three years now, but he swore they'd be okay once they realized who he was. Idiot." Tim bit his lip. He couldn't cry right now. He opened the case and pulled out gloves and antiseptic and began cleaning the wounds. "Dick, I need you to contact Superboy, Impulse, and Wonder Girl. Tell them Phantom's hurt bad and Regrowth and Pharaoh may need immediate extraction."

"Okay." Dick was already typing away on his phone. Moments later, it started ringing and Dick answered it on speaker.

Cassie's voice came over, "Red Robin, what's going on?"

"Phantom's been vivisected. He passed out before he could share the culprits. We're at my apartment in Gotham. If it was the GIW..."

"I'm sure Impulse is already there. I need to go home and grab my deflector first, but I'm going to get to Amity as soon as I can. We'll keep you updated."

"Thanks. Phantom's in bad shape. I don't..."

"Rob, you know what to do. We've known this was a risk for three years. You've talked to Frostbite and Regrowth and Phantom about how to best care for traumatic wounds. You're going to make sure he pulls through this."

Tim's eyes burned, but he kept working. Almost done and then he could start with the stitches. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Rob."

The call disconnected and Tim took a shaky breath. Time to start the stitches. They'd come directly from Frostbite and the thread glowed a bright, ectoplasm green.

"Tim," Dick's voice was tight, "Why do you have a case filled with Lazarus water and Lazarus-green supplies?"

"Not Lazarus water." He didn't bother explaining more. He laid the thread along the wounds and willed it to close the wound.

The thread obeyed, breaking into small pieces and sewing the skin together on his own. For the first time since he realized Danny was hurt, he smiled. Ghost medicine definitely made this part easier.

With the major injury taken care of as best as possible, Tim began checking over the rest of Danny. He had a bad burn on his left thigh, new electricity marks on his right shoulder, and his right ankle was either badly sprained or broken.

So he set to cleaning those as best he could. Creams then bandages covered the burns. The splint he laid along the ankle set itself just like the stitches had.

Dick tried to help, but Tim brushed him aside. It'd take too long to explain what had to be done.

Eventually, Dick got up and walked away. He could hear him in the kitchen area messing around in the fridge and reporting the situation over the comms, but he ignored it.

Finally, everything was categorized and bandaged to the best of his abilities. Now, for the final step. He pulled out a syringe shining bright with ectoplasm and stabbed it into a mostly-uninjured area of Danny's thigh.

Danny's back arched off the ground and he gasped, eyes flying open.

Tim leaned over him, "Danny, it's okay. You're safe now. You made it."

"Tim," gasped Danny.

"Yep. You made it. Can you tell me who did this to you?"

Danny closed his eyes and breathed out. "Mom and Dad."

Tim grasped Danny's hand. "Danny..."

Danny squeezed back. He opened his eyes and met Tim's gaze. "Still have that spare room for me?"

"I've had it since the day you died, idiot. Welcome home."

Danny gave a small smile even as tears tracked down his cheeks. "I'm home."

-----

Okay! That ended up being both longer and shorter than I thought it'd be. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks again for sending the prompt, Nonny! And the rest of you, feel free to keep sending some in. I'm off tomorrow and should be able to fill one or two. Any others I can work on over the course of the week.

For now, it's bedtime.

[selestial-skies]

The palette isn’t up yet because I still have to make a cover for it but here’s my prompts for October 2024! If you want to participate but it seems too overwhelming you can just do the boldened moon phase prompts at your own pace. We’re here to have fun not stress out!!! I don’t have a hashtag for this one but if you want me to see your creations please @ me either here or on Cara (not necessary, but I just like looking at people’s interpretations of my prompts).

I tried to make this as readable as possible (curses picking fancy cursive as my “brand image”) but I’m putting the prompts as a plain text list below to cut for those who want it

1. new moon

2. magical sunset

3. soft dawn

4. warm mid-afternoon sunshine 

5. waxing crescent moon

6. bright sunrise

7. windswept clouds

8. silver starlight

9. first quarter moon 

10. view from airplane window

11. pastel twilight

12. meteor shower

13. waxing gibbous moon

14. aurora borealis

15. city airglow

16. golden god rays

17. full moon

18. nacreous clouds

19. sunset parhelion

20. first flight  

21. waning gibbous moon

22. distant thunderhead

23. rosy dusk

24. lo-fi evening

25. last quarter moon

26. crepuscular rays

27. polaris

28. mystic moonbow

29. waning crescent moon

30. silent midnight

31. lunar eclipse 

[alynnia]

Daughters of Deepspace

THIS IS A LONG ONE. I have a habit of smashing ships I like together and designing what their kids look like. It started with just Sylus x MC but then I decided to do the rest and my mind began producing story ideas and I...got carried away. They're still all over the place. I want to do more with Dove in particular and have written a lot for her on the side, another post just about her eventually, but this post are just some summaries. Her situation in particular is extra angst because for some reason, I enjoy giving my favorites the toughest struggles. Names may or may not change. Made the designs in Life Makeover and I couldn't get the right shade for Pomme's hair color so pretend it matches Caleb lol. I wish there was a male equivalent because I would have made sons too.

I also like to give them problems. Not all of their lives are 100% happy and they have issues to deal with. One of them may or may not potentially be a villain.

Polaris

☆Energetic in contrast to her father, bubbly and curious to the point it gets her into trouble. Very "What does this button do? " type of character.  Her hobbies are sewing, plush making and being a professional crane game master. Her room is absolutely covered in plushies and comfortable enough that Xavier would fall asleep when reading her stories. In school she does decently, a social butterfly but some students are exhausted by her. Has two best friends and a boy with an obvious crush on her she is oblivious to. 

☆Relationship with father: Adores him. Her energy is too much for him to handle and she doesn't realize it. Always hanging on him, tugging on his sleeve, jumping onto his back and the poor man just wants to nap after work. Polaris follows him around and even pops up sometimes while he’s at work. When he’s too deep into an investigation and can’t get her back home, Xavier will continue with her tagging along being extremely careful she doesn’t get hurt. Though she does help him with her time evol. Around others, Polaris will brag about her father in a " My dad can beat your dad" kind of way and will get into fights over it. Once she gets a little brother, her attention shifts from Xavier to him, becoming the ever doting sibling.

☆Evol: Time. In short bursts she can speed up and slow down time making her appear to be faster than she is. As a combatant, she's able to plant traps and bombs while she's slowed everything down. There’s a limit to this as she can only do it a handful of times a day. The Hunters Association are eager to recruit her but her overly curious nature would need to be settled first since it causes problems. Perhaps if she was partnered with someone who has Resonance like her mother, she might actually be able to time travel.

☆Weapon: She's trained with a sword but she prefers explosives that are cute and shaped like animals. She finds them to be beautiful and fun ever since she was little. It started with firecrackers and Xavier's light illusions and as she grew it expanded from there. She mainly uses them as distractions but in a darker setting she might use them directly. When it comes to her swordsmanship, she learned from the best of course, her parents.

☆What is MC up to: A hunter captain. Polaris keeps tabs on who she interacts with for Xavier. After she has her second child she quits and stays home 

☆Her story: Something bad happens to her little brother and it's her fault. After this incident the family just isn’t the same and MC has gone into a depressive state she tries to hide. Polaris desperately tries to find a way to turn back time and undo but when she does find a way it may come at a greater cost, if it even works.

Jasmine

◇ Well behaved perfectionist honor student. She carries herself with grace, poise and a favorite of teachers and elderly. She has an interest in gardening, having her own garden of flowers and medicinal plants in the yard and flowers growing near her window in her room. They all are special to her, her “friends” that she chats with. Another hobby of hers is dancing, particularly ballet which she takes VERY seriously, correcting her dance partners to an annoying degree. Like her father, she's a workaholic. If she’s not studying, she’s practicing dance and if she’s not dancing she’s tending to her garden and if she’s not doing that, she’s researching. She will however, always make time for her parents. In school she has casual acquaintances but no real friends as she's far too busy to form meaningful relationships with others which raises concern with Zayne and MC. Another reason she doesn't have friends is because she also holds others to higher standards and when they are not met, she dismisses them. Warm on the outside but a cold nature within. Strict and blunt.

◇Relationship with father: Professional. She wants to excel past his expectations. She has it in her head that she has to be perfect which ends up stressing her out. Zayne worries since he sees so much of himself in her and doesn’t want her to miss out on the simple things in life but Jasmine is the type who insists she is perfectly fine and holds herself together until she bursts into a fit of rage in private. She hates that about herself, finding these emotions to be "tiresome". It would only weaken the family name and she can't let her parents down, especially her father. She has to be better than this no matter what. I can see her finding out about that suppression chip and willingly putting it into herself in secret.

◇Evol: “Healing” (Rapid cell generation) Jasmine loves her evol and is eager to use it whenever she can. She sees it as a way to emulate her father as she wants to become a doctor too to help her mother. She's well studied in biology to help aid her skill since her healing is simply speeding up the natural process. So needing to know how a limb should be set and where an organ should be is important less she causes more harm. Though, she does have the capability to use it offensively. Say she breaks the leg of an enemy she could heal it incorrectly on purpose, permanently hindering them. Or do it over and over again to get them to talk. She could have a career in (twisted) interrogation.

◇Weapon: None. She's not been trained by her parents as they wanted a peaceful life for her and believe that they are more than capable of protecting her themselves and keeping her from any situations where she would need to fight. That doesn't mean she's helpless as where she lacks in combat she makes up for in cunning (and manipulation). Jasmine also has an extensive knowledge in poisons and drugs, plants she is not allowed to grow but has a secret location where she does anyway. Later down the line, if she were to use resonance with someone to amplify her Evol, she could potentially use her "healing" to cause diseases. Rapid generation of cells can cause some very deadly results.

◇Her Story: With the chip implanted in her, she unknowingly becomes a puppet for an organization. The chip was off market and had been tampered with, perhaps former Ever scientists had something to do with it. Jasmine comes to find that there are gaps in her memory and a new mysterious disease is on the rise with certain individuals...

Pomme

♤Athletic tomboy. Her hobbies are working out, playing basketball, surviving her brothers and playing hero. She's physically the strongest of the girls. Having three older brothers, she knows how to hold her own against others and has a protective nature. It's every man for themselves in this household when the parents aren't around and being the smallest one, she’s in the trenches. She does average in school and is a popular basketball player, having her own fan club. She enjoys tinkering with mechanics, a fascination started by watching and helping maintain her father's arm and has put together little contraptions to protect her space and things from her brothers. She sees herself as a protector of the weak, a big sister to those younger than her and will beat up bullies for them. She wants to become a hunter like her mother so she can continue protecting people.

♤Relationship with father: Best friends and one sided rivalry. Caleb is strict with his sons but has a soft spot for his only daughter, telling the boys they need to do everything in their power to protect her...which causes some sibling aggression. They do love their little sister but sometimes the favoritism gives them a reason to pick on her when mom and dad aren’t looking. Pomme insists that she be held to the same standards as her brothers and Caleb keeps saying he does but he always ends up going soft on her which leads her to constantly trying to prove herself to him. So she sets traps with her mechanics, throws a kick and punch here and there that he blocks on instinct and does her best to try and out perform her brothers just to show him how strong she is. Caleb finds it adorable but shifts into colonel mode when things start to get out of hand. You can be sure she has no suitors either. Her brothers are on strict orders to tear up and scare away anyone that appears to show romantic interest in her and sometimes, Caleb himself will step in. She’s also not allowed to have a boyfriend until she’s 80.

♤Evol: None. She's the only one in her family without one leaving her to feel inadequate. Her brothers have air, earth and magnetism but Pomme? Nothing. She does however, know exactly the capabilities of her brothers and if ever in a situation where they are all fighting together, she is the one commanding them like a Pokémon trainer and laying out the strategies. " Alex! Ryan! Attack pattern B! Simon! You're on defense! " (About the names…they’re placeholders. Tempted to name them after the chipmunks but I will hold back.)

♤Weapon: Guns taught by her parents and unarmed, mostly grappling that she learned from dealing with her brothers trying to escape headlocks and being tossed around. She’s able to match the middle one (Ryan), can take down the youngest(Simon) but the eldest brother(Alex) is the final boss tier.

♤What MC is up to: Is finally back to work as a Hunter now that her children are older but has slowed down a bit. Each of them are about a year or two apart and she swears she’s going to get Caleb fixed one of these days.

♤Her Story: In an effort to save someone’s life, she ends up in an accident leaving her legs paralyzed. She's devastated as the one thing she felt she had going was her athletic ability and now she’s limited. She wasn't going to let that stop her so she wanted mechanical limbs like her father. Caleb didn’t like the idea at first, not wanting her going through the same pain and lack of feeling but after a long argument/discussion and making sure she is aware of the consequences he finally gives in. After getting her metal legs, they performed better than her normal ones. She didn’t care that she lost feeling other than pain during maintenance, the power was addictive. She wanted to be able to do more and began working on limb enhancers for her arms, body and eventually create a suit (similar to the ones in Bubblegum Crisis 2040) and essentially become a vigilante as a way to be the hero she wants to be. It starts off small, righteous, taking out petty criminals and saving cats from trees but over time the power gets to her head and she starts hunting bigger prey. Who needs Evol when she's got this?

Ariel

♡Ariel is creative just like her father and applies it to fashion in interesting ways. Seashell skirts, literal flaming dresses (That caused a small fire), coral hair clips, protocore bedazzled tops(expensive af), and driftwood hats (That still had creatures living in it). She makes just as much of a mess as Rafayel thus, she's given her own warehouse to work on her ideas. Sometimes his materials will go missing and it's likely because she "borrowed" them. In school, she excels in everything but sports due to being sickly and easily exhausted so she has to stay home most days. She was born with a weak body and can't handle physical activity for too long, including swimming. In the water, after about a few minutes Ariel just sinks like a rock. She can breathe underwater so she just finds herself laying on the seafloor. Staring up. Contemplating her "worthiness" of being her father's daughter and her Lemurian heritage.

♡Relationship with father: She has him wrapped around her finger. She's never in trouble for very long under him, as much as he likes to think he can keep her in check, all she has to do is give him The Look and he buckles. So she is very spoiled and will act over dramatically along with him giving their mother quite the show but mother doesn't let it slide making her the main disciplinary figure of the house. When it comes to anything Lemurian related she retreats within her proverbial shell. Ariel loves the stories of Lemuria, happy to hear them first hand from her father and visit exhibits about it but due to her weak constitution she thinks there was a mistake. Rafayel however, constantly calls her a princess of the sea, the rightful future ruler of the ocean and all should bow before his little girl! There’s so many paintings of her and her mother, intimidating her. He can’t stop doting on her which she finds embarrassing but the affection makes her even more self-conscious. If they ever had another child, would he stop loving her this much? (The answer of course is no, but she doesn’t know that)

♡Evol: Water. With resonance could probably lead into blood-bending but the sheer amount of power that would entail could be very dangerous for her.

♡Weapon: None, she just uses water but it exhausts her. She can also communicate with fish and they can help her sometimes. She’s only been in a dangerous situation with others once and that was a kidnapping for ransom money. She was quickly saved and the kidnappers were never to be found again but since then she’s got her own bodyguard that’s to be with her at all times. Maybe that bodyguard has a kid her age. Maybe her and that kid get along. Maybe that peer dedicates themselves to be her shield. Maybe a crush develops. 

♡What MC is up to: Stay at home bodyguard/mom that helps keep an eye on Ariel and her condition. She sometimes seeks out the thrill of being a hunter again but for the most part stays with her girl. ♡Her Story: She sees herself as a burden and is willing to do anything to “no longer cause trouble” for her parents. So she wants to make a journey, run away with the bodyguard’s kid to seek out a legend to “fix” her. They try to talk her out of it but she’s far too determined and so they prepare along with her, ready to follow.

Dove

♧Dove is a difficult, troubled youth. She's got quite the temper, gets into fights on a near weekly basis as a show of dominance and 'territory' claims, and a delinquent due to skipping school. She does have some of the best grades when she actually applies herself, but math and science are her worst subjects. When she does come to school, classmates are either afraid of her or looking to fight her to prove themselves. She doesn’t always win these fights, but when she loses the opponent tends to end up transferred or apologizing the next day through their teeth. Dove hates this. Her passion is singing, taking an interest in rock and metal, screaming in her room as she writes her own music. Sylus has gotten used to it, “ The little dragon is practicing her roars.”  She sucks at crane games but enjoys the challenge even if she keeps getting kicked out for kicking the machine. Always sneaking out of the house but it's rarely actual "sneaking" since Sylus always knows what she's up to and where she is. Where she goes varies. Sometimes old abandoned warehouses just to hang out and watch the going ons of the N109 Zone, sometimes to pick fights with thugs and sometimes the “old shopkeeper” to watch him work and to hear stories about her mother.

♧Relationship with father: Complicated. Her mother died in her time not long after she was born which caused Sylus to be distant. He still cared for her but the severing of half his soul and his daughter’s face being a constant painful reminder took some time to come to terms to. She's able to do what she wants, can have anything and he's even trained her in use of guns and fighting, he's still seemingly cold to her. Yet he's always got an eye on her. Be it the twins, mephisto, the tracking bracelet, no matter where she goes he always knows where she is and quick to appear if need be and this frustrates her to no end. She wants to escape his watchful eye and everyone bowing to her whim. She doesn't want the world to be handed to her, she wants to take it herself. The two do have bonding moments, such as he may have not-so “accidentally” taught her draconic which now leads them to having full private conversations in it (In the full post I have about her I’ll post what I imagine it sounds like but basically the FFXIV dragon speak), and while training together it’s her chance to vent out her frustrations and anger on him.

Evol: “None” as far as she knows up until a certain point. Due to who her mother is and her connection with the deepspace tunnel, there was a rare chance an offspring of hers would gain the ability of Planeswalker but only in relation to her mother. With MC being her anchor point, she can hop to alternate realities. 

Weapon: Guns but she mostly uses martial arts or a bat.Improvised weapons are another skill of hers so she’ll use whatever she can get her hands on like a steel chair or a pencil. 

Her Story: For some reason, Dove has dreams about her mother and the past lives she’s lived. Bits and pieces of it. She doesn’t think all that much of it until she starts seeing the men in these dreams that were with her. The famous artist, a well respected doctor, clippings of a co-worker of hers, a fleet colonel so she seeks them out. Upon meeting one of them, her Evol activates, flinging her into a different reality where her mother is alive and has a family with them and…meeting another girl who looks similar to her. Thus begins her journey of trying to find out more about her mom, meeting her alternate reality “sisters”, helping them with their problems while trying not to get caught and mend her relationship with her father. There may also be a common enemy who exists in each of their realities they have to deal with. 

Now I think many of us agree that Sylus should have twins. I also agree. I wonder what happened to them? Anyway, omg when Sylus finds out about Dove’s reality jumping he’s gonna want to join her so he can see MC again. Can he? Haven’t decided. Oh man and she’s with the other guys? AUuggh, it would be so bittersweet. And he’s already going to be on Dove’s ass about what the fuck is she doing talking with the other LaDs in their current reality and AKSAHDKAJHDSKH-

Sorry, I'm having too much fun with this too.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.” “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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