#prompt: pinned under wreckage

[hollowmem]

A sweep going south

GN!Reader x Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Tw: mentioning of blood, impalment

I decided to take on a 2 week challange that may or may not extent to a month, we will see. I will be posting everyday, a new story with a prompt I will get for that day

Day 8: Impaled - Gaz

The stairwell creaked under their boots, every step echoing through the hollow, half-ruined building. Dust hung in the air like a fog.

"Bet you a tenner this place collapses before we even finish" Gaz muttered, sweeping his rifle across the next landing.

Y/n smirked behind their mask. "You’re on. But when I win, you're buying dinner too."

Gaz chuckled low in his throat. "You’re assuming we'll make it out of here alive"

"Positive thinking, Sergeant" Y/n teased, nudging him with their shoulder as they moved into the next hallway.

The walls were cracked and crumbling, rebar jutting out like broken bones. Sunlight streamed through the gaping holes in the ceiling, painting the wreckage in harsh, white light.

"Clear right" Y/n called, checking a side room. It was empty except for a toppled filing cabinet and some broken chairs.

Gaz swept left. "Clear"

They regrouped at the center, exchanging a brief nod. Everything felt too quiet. Too easy.

Gaz gave the rusted metal supports an exaggerated, skeptical look. "D'you reckon these things are still holding this dump up?"

Y/n glanced at the leaning beams and grinned. "Define 'holding'" A chuckle crackled between them. The easy rhythm of moving and covering each other made the tension almost bearable. Almost.

"Soap's probably finished his sector already," Gaz said as they moved toward a stairwell leading down. "Lazy bastard gets all the easy jobs"

"Maybe next time you can swap with him," Y/n quipped, checking the corners as they descended. "Play rock-paper-scissors for it"

"I'd win. I always win" Gaz said smugly.

"Sure you do" Y/n said, rolling their eyes.

They reached the next floor — or what was left of it. Part of the ceiling had already collapsed, piles of debris blocking the far end of the hallway.

Gaz moved forward to check it out, careful but casual. Y/n watched him for a second longer than they needed to, the sunlight outlining his vest.

Then —

A deep, loud crack ripped through the air. Y/n barely had time to swear before the ground shook under their boots. A massive explosion tore through the building, louder than anything they had ever heard, and everything turned into chaos.

The shockwave hit them like a hammer. Y/n was thrown hard into the cracked wall, knocking the air out of their lungs. Pain shot through their ribs and skull — blinding and sharp. Then the floor gave way, and they were falling.

Concrete and steel rained down. Something heavy smashed into their side, pinning them down.

For a heartbeat, everything was silent — a sick, ringing silence broken only by the groan of the building dying around them.

Y/n coughed weakly, choking on dust and blood. Their left leg was trapped under twisted rebar and splintered wood. Sharp pain flared with every breath. Blood dripped from a cut on their temple, blurring their vision.

“Gaz!” Y/n tried to scream, but it came out a broken rasp.

Panic clawed at them. Y/n dug their fingers into the rubble, trying to pull themselves free. Every movement sent pain shooting up their trapped leg, but they didn’t stop.

“Soap, Price, anybody!” Y/n gasped into the comms. “I lost Gaz! I can’t—” A burst of static drowned their words.

Fingers raw and bleeding, Y/n fought to shove aside slabs of concrete and twisted metal. Their vision swam, black at the edges, but they forced themselves onward.

Through the swirling dust, half-blinded, Y/n caught a glimpse — black tactical gear, crumpled beneath a collapsed section of the ceiling.

“Gaz!” They cried, dragging themselves forward, every inch a battle against the pain.

Somewhere deep down, their body was screaming for them to stop — to lie down, to breathe, to just give up. But Y/n ignored it, driven by one blinding, desperate thought—Find him.

Dragging themselves forward through the wreckage, Y/n finally reached him — and their blood turned to ice.

Gaz lay crumpled under a collapsed beam, half-buried in debris. His gear was shredded, soaked through with blood. But it was the thing that pinned him that stole the air from their lungs.

A thick steel post — torn from the very bones of the building — had impaled him clean through the gut.

It punched straight through his stomach, jutting out from his back at a sickening, twisted angle. Blood poured from the wound, dark and heavy, pooling beneath him, and spreading around.

Gaz’s head lolled weakly to the side, his face ghost-white under the grime, sweat slicking his forehead. His lips moved, trying to speak, but all that came out was a wet, choking sound.

“No, no, no,” Y/n choked, crawling the last few inches to him, ignoring the way their injured leg screamed in protest. “Gaz, stay with me, mate. I’m here — I’m right here.”

His gloved hand twitched, reaching weakly for them. Y/n grabbed it, clutching tight even as their own hands shook. Blood slicked between their fingers — his blood.

The of him — the ugly, brutal way the metal sight split him open — made their stomach churn. No movie, no battlefield story had ever prepared Y/n for this. It was wrong — wrong that someone as stubborn and alive as Gaz could be reduced to this broken thing bleeding out under steel and stone.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Y/n whispered fiercely, lying through their teeth. “Price and Soap are coming. We’ll get you out. Just hold on, yeah?”

Gaz’s eyelids fluttered. His breathing was shallow, rattling wetly in his chest.

The comms crackled to life at their side, distorted voices shouting their name — but Y/n couldn’t tear their eyes away from him. The building groaned again, another shudder rippling through the wreckage.

“Stay awake,” Y/n begged, tightening their grip on his hand. “Look at me, Gaz. Don’t you fucking dare leave me.”

"Price, Soap, someone — I need backup!" Y/n shouted into the comms again, but there was still no answer. No one was coming yet. The fear hit them harder than anything else.

"Please don’t fall asleep, you will be okay," Y/n spoke with tears in their eyes, wanting to do anything, but unable to even stop the bleeding — not alone.

Gaz’s hand gave one last twitch… then fell limp.

"Gaz?!" Y/n gasped, shaking him, ignoring the agony screaming from their own body. "Stay with me, mate. Stay with me—"

But he didn’t. His eyes, glassy and faraway, stared through them. His chest didn’t rise again.

The sound of boots slamming against the wreckage barely reached Y/n’s ears. Shouts. Shapes moving through the dust and sunlight.

Price.

Soap.

They came to a stop, rifles half-lowered — they froze at the sight of Y/n hunched over Gaz’s body.

Price didn’t even reach for a med kit. One look at the wreckage of Gaz’s body — the thick steel still driven through him — and Price’s face locked down, grief flashing through his eyes. No one said "Hold on" or "Stay with us." They didn’t even have time. He was already gone.

Soap swore under his breath, voice thick. Price knelt beside Y/n, one gloved hand resting heavy on their shoulder, grounding them. "Come on, kid," Price said quietly, his voice rough like broken gravel. He crouched beside Y/n, eyes flickering over them, taking quick stock of their injuries.

Blood, bruises, broken — but breathing. Still breathing. Y/n didn’t move. Couldn't.

The world felt muted, like they were underwater — sounds too distant, movements too slow.

"He's gone," Soap said, voice barely above a whisper. And no matter how loud Y/n's heart screamed, no matter how hard they clung to Gaz’s limp hand, they couldn't pull him back.

[the-stars-are-warring]

Delta Squad Week Day 1

Yippee! Finished a thing for an event and I even met the (alt) prompt! (You're Hurt)

Today its Scorch and Fixer cause they're not presented as a duo very often.

Scorch pops the seal on his helmet and inhales. The LAARTI's engines hum and he relishes the sound. "You know? I don't think I'm going to miss this planet." Sev snorts and Boss's helmet twitches like he's rolling his eyes.

"Put your shab'la helmet back on." Fixer snaps and Scorch groans.

"Would you relax Fixer. Mission accomplished we're on exf-" Something explodes behind them and Scorch shuts up and goes to pull his helmet back on but then the floor bucks under him and Scorch grabs for the wall (floor? Ceiling?) with the image of Boss mid-stagger with Sev falling into him as the last thing he remembers seeing before he wraps his arms over his head and bounces off of something as they hit the ground.

Then the next thing Scorch knows his ears are ringing and his teeth ache like he's been clenching them.

"Shab." He unfolds himself carefully. There's blood on his upper arm- and he can feel it running down the side of his face when he moves.

He can still feel his extremities though and his legs and arms listen when he rolls over and scrambles towards the daylight visible through the buckled metal of the hull.

"Six-two? Scorch!!"

He glances up in time to see Fixer's helmet as he grabs Scorch's arm and hauls him the rest of the way out of the wreckage. There's a gouge mark across Fixer's chest. Shrapnel probably.

"All good here." Scorch reports as Fixer hauls him upright.

"You're bleeding. Di'kut." Fixer snaps, pulling him away from the wreck. Scorch glances back at the Laarti. The pilot did a damn-fine job of setting them down, it's almost upright, and they didn't even snap off the wing that wasn't hit by a shab'la missile.

"Scorch!" There's unmistakable relief in Sev's voice as he darts over to them. Scorch eyes Sev critically.

"Many more of these landings and you're gonna look like Omega with their nice stealth armour." Scorch comments indicating the burn mark along the right side of Sev's armour.

"big talk for a man with half a face." Sev snaps back.

"Scorch - Fixer?" Boss is here too.

"Squad accounted for." Fixer reports.

"I'm good." Scorch agrees.

Boss looks at him, tilt of the helmet skeptical.

"Pilot is pinned in the cockpit." Sev reports - "I think he's OK too." Boss nods sharply.

"Ok, Sev, and I will get the pilot, Fourty - "

"Pull tracking data out of the cockpit if you can." Fixer interrupts. "I'll get the bleeding stopped here."

Boss nods and grabs Sev's shoulder. The two of them head back towards the downed laarti as Fixer turns to Scorch.

"Hold Still."

"Aw come on, Fixer I'm fine."

"You're hurt." Fixer says, unmoved. "And probably concussed."

Scorch rolls his eyes. "And it's Taunsday."

Fixer grunts and grabs Scorch's slightly longer than regulation hair, tilting the demolition expert's head to one side. Scorch flinches.

"Shab that stings!"

"Because you've got a piece of shrapnel in your neck." Fixer says.

"And lucky me, you've still got half an ear. Not that you'll use it to listen to regulations. Like keeping your Shabla bucket on." Scorch winces as Fixer releases him and fishes in one of his pockets for supplies, retrieving some topical bacta gel, pliers, disinfectant. It was stupid to pull off his helmet - but now Fixer is acting worried.

"Will I die?" Scorch asks brightly and Fixer exhales through his nose, the sound hissing through the voice projector in his helmet.

"Pretty sure your brain died in the incubation chamber and the rest of you just hasn't noticed yet Mir'sheb."

Scorch cackles. then hisses as Fixer grabs his head again.

"Hey! You don't have to hold on to me you know?"

"I told you to sit still and you didn't" Fixer retorts, cocking his head and spreading some of the bacta gel over the side of Scorch's skull.

"Ow." Scorch complains but his brother just tilts his head the other direction turning his attention to Scorch's neck.

"You're a pain in my Shebs you know that? Stop moving."

"Aw you say the nicest thi-" Scorch breaks off with a yelp as something is pulled from his neck. Before he can really react though, Fixer stuffs a bacta dressing into the wound.

"Fierfek" Scorch manages once he's gotten his breath back hand pressed to his neck regardless of the fact Fixer is already holding the dressing in place. "It didn't shabla hurt before you started poking me."

"I could put some of it back in if you want." Fixer offers, deadpan lifting a piece of metal as wide as his thumb and nearly twice as long with the pliers. Scorch leans away.

"Your bedside manner is Osik. Be a miracle if I ever set foot in a hospital ever again."

"You wearing your damn buy'ce that' be the miracle." Fixer snaps back, pulling his hand free, leaving Scorch to hold the dressing in place.

"Think it'll scar?" Scorch asks as Fixer circles him, looking for more shrapnel. "Apparently ladies like scars." Fixer pauses to stare at him for a second. Scorch wonders if now is a bad time to go for his record of 'most times I made Fixer sigh loudly in ten minutes' and then remembers he doesn't have his bucket or HUD to track the time.

"Well if we ever end up on triple zero again you let me know how it goes testing that theory." Fixer says finally, He leans in again using the small set of pliers to pull a few more slivers of metal out of Scorch's neck and jaw.

Scorch flinches again and Fixer grunts in frustration grabbing the demolition expert's hair again to hold his head still.

"Ow" Scorch emphasizes. "You did that on purpose."

Again the strange - tinney sound the helmet vocoder makes when Fixer sighs. "If you'd worn your shabla helmet we wouldn't be doing this at all." He pulls another few pieces of metal from Scorch's skin.

"Alright alright I get it." Scorch tries to inch away but Fixer's fingers just tighten in his hair. "OWCH, I'm sorry ok? And I swear from now on I'll never take off my helmet unless we're safe in a base or on a Venerator."

"Alright. Alright." Fixer releases Scorch and throws his hands up. "The rest can wait till we get back and a med-droid can look after you." The two of them lapse into silence for a moment as Fixer passes Scorch a bit of bacta gel to smear on his neck.

Fixer is done cleaning the pliers and is tucking things methodically back into his belt when Boss and Sev reappear.

"Got the pilot." Boss reports, walking a half-step behind the other clone like he half expects to have to catch him.

"And some discarded junk." Sev tosses a helmet and Scorch catches it, turning it over to inspect it.

"Check it out Fixer, new scratch!" Fixer's helmet jerks as he rolls his eyes.

"Dik'ut"

[sweethoneyrose83]

Prompts inspired by the theme "I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you":

Prompt 1: "Enemies to Lovers"

You've always hated them—your rival in every sense. But now, as they lie wounded in your arms after saving your life, you feel your heart breaking at the thought of losing them. Why did they risk everything for you? And why do you care so much?

Prompt 2: "Forbidden Desire"

You’ve been trained your whole life to despise people like them. Yet here you are, heart racing, as they hold you close under the cover of darkness. Every touch sends sparks through your veins, even though your mind screams this is wrong. How long can you resist before you finally give in?

Prompt 3: "The Curse"

A powerful curse binds you both together, forcing you to stay by each other's side, no matter how much you despise one another. But over time, hate has turned to something else. The curse may be weakening, and you have a choice to break it… but what will you do now that you've grown to need them?

Prompt 4: "Ghosts of the Past"

The person you once loved and lost has returned, but they’re not who they used to be. You hate the twisted version of them that stands before you, yet the old feelings you buried deep are clawing their way back to the surface. Do you dare to try and find the person you once loved hidden beneath the monster they've become?

Prompt 5: "Hero vs. Villain"

As a superhero, it's your duty to capture the villain who’s wreaking havoc on the city. But every time you clash, you can’t ignore the way your pulse quickens. When they get the upper hand, pinning you to the ground, they lean in with a smirk and whisper, "If you hate me so much, why does your heart race like that?"

Prompt 6: "Betrayal"

You never expected to fall for them. But now, standing in the wreckage of your relationship, you’re faced with the truth: they betrayed you for a cause they believed in. Yet, no matter how much you want to forget them, your heart refuses to let go. What will you do when they come back, begging for another chance?

Prompt 7: "The Arranged Marriage"

You’re forced into an arranged marriage with your sworn enemy to end a centuries-old feud between your families. You hate everything they stand for, but you can't deny the electricity that sparks every time your eyes meet. How will you navigate a relationship built on hatred… when you can’t help but fall in love?

Prompt 8: "The Choice"

You have two options: kill the person you love to save the world or let them live and doom everyone else. As they kneel before you, eyes filled with acceptance, you find yourself hesitating. Why does it have to be them? And why do you love them, despite all the pain they’ve caused?

[theragethatisdesire]

CONGRATS ON THE 1K DKFJSKDJF

can i get levi with the stay with me tonight prompt o.o (#8 i think :3)

HEY KAT HEY!!!! thank you so much jdkfaljdl i remember when you hit 1k and i was just so immensely proud of you and so happy to be moots and i still am!!! so thrilled to see you here<333

yeah you absoLUTELY can you are officially the first person to get me to write a levi drabble/fic and ofc it would be you that pulls it out of me

-

Reluctantly, you sit up, grimacing slightly at the scratch of the Survey Corp-issued sheets against your bare, oversensitive skin, at the ache deep in your bones and beneath your legs from a long day of training and a long night with him.

He's your Captain, you're his subordinate. It's inappropriate beyond measure, could easily ruin his career, but at this rate, you're not sure who needs this arrangement more. You aren't sure when it started, whether that be during sparring practice, pinned underneath him in full view of your comrades, on those long missions outside the walls watching each other be illuminated by a campfire, the one time you snapped back at him to the chagrin of everyone else around.

It started at some point, but you only know where it ended up, with you continuously sneaking out of your barracks and into his private captain's quarters, sliding beneath the sheets and letting him work sounds out of you that would make a prostitute blush.

You jump at the light pressure of a hand on your spine, not pressing, but a feather-light touch.

"What time is it?" Levi grumbles in that tousled, unbuttoned tone he gets only in moments like these. You relish it, love that for now, that voice is only for you, not for anyone else.

"Close to 1:00," you answer, eyes flicking over to the clock on the wall, "long day tomorrow?"

"Moreso for you than me," Levi props up on his elbows, and you make the mistake of turning over your shoulder to look at him, look at the way his muscles ripple under porcelain skin.

Your eyes draw to a particular scar on his ribs, the one you had hesitantly asked about on your first night together, the one you now know makes him shudder if you run your tongue over it. You avert your eyes instantly when a slow throb starts to build between your legs, despite the wreckage that already lies there.

"Why is that?"

"ODM review," Levi's eyes soften ever so slightly, an apology, "I have meetings with the Commander most of the day, so I need you and the squad to head over to the training area and teach the cadets how to check their ODM gear properly. There's been too many close calls during their training. Commander Erwin suspects that they weren't properly taught how to check their gear before heading up."

You groan, rubbing at your tired eyes. "I wish you would have told me that before I came over here. I'm exhausted."

"I'm sorry," Levi's voice is quiet, a little wounded. You can only sigh, knowing that trying to assure him that it was worth it, that you'd go weeks without sleep, without food, if it meant you could lay here with him only a few hours longer is fruitless.

"It's okay," you find yourself leaning over, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It shocks both of you, you pulling back with wide eyes, a blush rising to the tips of Levi's ears. "Um, okay, well...I'll head out then. Sounds like we both need the rest."

Levi's lips tighten into a thin line, and he nods curtly. This is the pitfall of your arrangement with the Captain; eventually, the sun has to rise, and the moment has to be end. With certain death looming over your shoulder at the start of each day, you don't have the guts to tell him how you really feel, that it's all so much more than a stress-relieving hookup for you, especially when you doubt the Captain feels that way for you in return.

You slide out of his sheets, feeling incredibly exposed, and scrounge around on the floor for your uniform. Just as you're sliding the unbelievably un-sexy standard-issued underwear over your legs, Levi speaks again, rattles you to your core.

"Wait."

"Wait?" You turn to him, nose scrunched in confusion. Levi's eyes flit around the room, searching for anything that isn't your confused, naked form.

"Stay with me tonight." Even his posture as he says it is anxious, uncomfortable in a way you've never seen.

"Stay with you," you repeat slowly, "here?"

"Yes, here," Levi can't help but roll his eyes, "you need to catch up on your sleep. I wake up before everyone else on base, I can make sure you get back to your quarters without being seen. Stay with me."

"Why do you say it like it's an order?" You're stunned initially, your surprise eventually winding down into suspicion.

"You don't have to, I just- I- I want you to. Get some rest, I mean." Levi's face is hard, but his eyes are pleading. That same little flush is rising from his cheeks to his ears, betraying him. You raise an eyebrow at your Captain, trying to shove off the prickly, exciting feeling erupting all over your body.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Levi eyes you, eyebrows lifting in just the smallest admission of astonishment.

"I'll stay with you," you let your underwear fall back down your legs, clamber back into the bed with him, "for tonight."

Levi lets an arm fall around your waist, curls his body around yours, makes you shiver at the intimate nature of your position together. Just as your eyes begin to flutter closed, you feel the lightest little kiss on the nape of your neck.

[zenonaa]

Time for the second request!!

[prompt list here]

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on tumblr and AO3 💖

***

[ao3]

When Future Foundation’s abandoned overseas building collapsed, Polaris felt genuine fear for the first time in her life. It wasn’t the darkness under the rubble that scared her. Many feared what they couldn’t see, not knowing what predators may have been lurking away from the light, but the darkness never intimidated Polaris. She knew that whatever hid in it was afraid of being seen. They were weak. A coward.

The cramped space didn't unnerve Polaris either. Pinned down by debris, she could barely move, barely breathe. Her limbs felt like they were on fire, but she didn’t cry or scream. To become the person she was today, she had long accepted that she would regularly be dancing with death. Blood-thirsty half-siblings, a deranged anthropomorphic bear and homicidal pre-teens... she had survived them all. Polaris could survive this.

Yet she was drenched in sweat. Heart racing, she started to thrash, flailing her legs to try to free herself from the wreckage. Despite her attempts, the debris clung to her, rubble teeth biting firmly into her flesh. She could barely breathe as the darkness choked her, unrelenting, clenching her tighter and tighter.

A hand grabbed her upper arm. “Polaris-sama!”

Light swelled at the edge of her vision. For a moment, she thought it was a flashlight, but with some squinting, she realised it was the glow of a bedside lamp. Then she realised she hadn’t been buried in rubble, but under a blanket. Nor was she in a defunct Future Foundation base. She was in her bed.

And it wasn't a rescuer staring down at her. The wide grey eyes belonged to Touko Fukawa.

“I didn't mean to wake you,” said Polaris.

Touko shook her head. “I wouldn't want to be asleep while you were so distressed.”

“I'm fine now. You can go back to sleep, Touko.”

“Was it a nightmare or a night terror that you had?” asked Touko, remaining sitting up. 

“It was just an unpleasant dream. Nothing to worry about.”

“When I used to share a bed with Komaru, we would both often have nightmares. What we found helped most was talking to the other about what happened in them.”

Polaris frowned. More firmly, she said, “I said I'm fine, Touko.”

Years ago, Touko would have apologised for making Polaris raise her voice and dropped the topic. Now, a furrow dipped between Touko's eyebrows.

“Do you remember the promise we made when we started dating?” said Touko. “‘No secrets.’”

“This isn't a secret.” But Polaris sat up and sighed. “In my dream, I was back under the rubble when Future Foundation’s old offshore building collapsed. You know... during the last killing game.”

Neither Polaris nor Touko had taken part in that. Touko had been in Towa City with Komaru Naegi, fulfilling a mission that Polaris had entrusted them with. Meanwhile, Polaris had been heading the rescue operation for their friends who were in the killing game. It was when Polaris was inside the building that the explosives went off. Her ears had rung. The ceiling had rained down on her. She had laid in the building’s ruins, packed in like a corpse in a coffin. Even had a nice black suit on, at the time.

Touko fidgeted her hands. “I didn't know about it until after... I-It must have been a horrible experience for you. The darkness, the enclosed space... the uncertainty of when you'll be let out and b-by who... or if you will be left in there to starve and rot.”

Though Touko had not been under the rubble with Polaris, she spoke with a familiarity. She was one of the few that Polaris knew who was afraid of the dark whilst knowing its real horrors. Her monsters weren't imaginary, with scales and forked tongues. They didn't wield knives, or guns. For Touko, darkness was the inside of the closet her mothers locked her in for days at a time, or her bedroom when her father creaked the door open in the dead of night.

Monsters though they were, that didn't mean Touko’s parents weren’t cowards. The lot of them were pathetic weaklings who had used the darkness to prey on a child. Their own daughter.

“Did you think you were going to die in there?” asked Touko.

Polaris’s younger self would have scoffed and said, ‘Don't be stupid. I am unkillable.’ Now, she swallowed, aware that she was as human as the others. Her friends had taught her that, for better or worse.

“I was determined not to.” Polaris’s hands clenched into fists on her lap. “I had made a promise that I would collect you from Towa City.”

Perhaps that was what unsettled Polaris about the ordeal. The thought of dying without returning to Towa City like she told Touko she would. Had Polaris died back then, so many things would have been left undone. Left unsaid. 

‘Let's go home, Fukawa.’

‘I would like to partner with you, Touko.’

‘Call me Polaris from now on.’

Had Polaris died in the wreckage, instead of being with Touko in their apartment together, she would have been in a crypt in front of a stone monument. Her ashes would have included whatever men's suit she was cremated in, and the name on the grave would not be hers. Not anymore.

Polaris's hands shook slightly. Touko lay a palm across Polaris's white knuckles.

“Dreams are how our psyches try to process certain things,” said Touko. “I find the more you talk about your dreams, the more you can distance yourself from them. They’re no longer thoughts clouding your brain, but a conversation topic. That’s what Gekkogahara told me, anyway.”

“What did you say when Gekkogahara told you that?” asked Polaris, quirking her brow slightly. Touko hesitated.

“... I said this was rich coming from a silent bitch who’s so shy that she has to talk through a virtual rabbit avatar.”

A small scoff escaped Polaris’s pursed smile, which made Touko grin wider. Polaris’s heart gave a flutter and she looked down at their hands, Touko’s on top of hers.

“Did what I say help?” asked Touko.

“Yes. It did. Thank you.”

Touko let out a delighted squeal. The bed shook as she wiggled happily. “I-I’m glad, Polaris-sama!”

Polaris looked up. “What did I say when we started dating? We’re partners. Equals. There is no need to add -sama, Touko.”

“Ah, right! S-Sorry... Polaris.”

“Good,” said Polaris, feeling her smile return. “Now, we should try to go back to sleep. We have work tomorrow.”

While Touko switched off the bedside lamp, Polaris lay down again. She waited for Touko to settle next to her before draping an arm over her, face warming as Touko snuggled backward into her body. As Polaris held Touko, she thought to herself that even if she had the dream again, the rubble wouldn’t be there when she woke up but Touko Fukawa would be.

[omnipicureans]

: ̗̀ ʚїɞ / 𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐘𝐌𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 .

neither by free will nor true purpose, APONIA HAS BEEN TRANSPORTED TO THESE ISLANDS ENTIRELY BY ACCIDENT; or at least, she has no memory of traveling here. confused, but certainly dressed for the occasion because of her realm's simulation, she's hardly resistant to the opportunity set before her, and will happily take this chance to enjoy being human again, even if briefly.

many will find her simply lounging on a beach chair with her eyes closed, helping children with their every adventurous endeavor ( she's incredibly weak to them ), or floating above the sea to peer within it ( strange behavior, but she's unsure about venturing beneath the waves ) .

alongside the ask meme, i'll be choosing a few prompts from the june commission board to volunteer aponia for, though i'm easily tempted by other prompts if those catch your attention instead. to start off, the thread cap will likely be kept at three unless the interaction is from an ask spilling over. please heed the interaction notes on this blog's pinned post for any curiosities as to mentions of her eccentric "impressions".

if any of these interest you, or you simply want to interact with aponia, then i'd prefer a dm on discord as i'm in the server, or a comment on this post.

COMMISSION BOARD.

GHOST STORIES :: aponia is anything but a stranger to the art of storytelling, even if her larger audiences were once the children under her care and not others near her age. even still, tales of horror can't be that hard over dulling drinks and the right atmosphere. because of her eerily calm composure, attempts to scare each other may even become a game of tallies; whoever's story manages to startle the other into physically reacting wins. bring your best stories, though, since she's a hard nut to crack.

LONELY MOUNTAINTOP CATHEDRAL :: as a lady of the cloth, she'd be interested wholly in the building itself and whatever mysteries of lore may be hidden within it, not the climb. plus, aponia wouldn't subject herself to climbing, since she can fly / hover, so the interaction would likely occur immediately at the top, with a reference to her pity - watching your muse climb the mountain if they can't traverse like she can.

SHIP WRECKAGE :: despite being entirely interested in the depths of the sea and the various remnants of wreckage around the beach, aponia is less enthusiastic about diving below the surface to sate these curiosities. we can form this thread differently because of this. whether aponia sees / senses your muse in danger while exploring a wreckage and decides to lend a hand, or it's the opposite, and the second she's getting comfortable underwater, something goes amiss and your muse is pulled into the adventure abruptly! whichever cheeses us more.

[melanie-ohara]

Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Day 02 - Prompt: Captivity

Ryder sets out to rescue her turian

AO3 here

Ryder stopped the video and played it again from the beginning. Vetra looked down at her with frantic eyes, the skin around them raw and red from the freezing air. She watched her burying the helmet and scooping snow over it with fingers that didn't bend, and then allowing herself to be dragged away by those kett bastards.

"SAM," Ryder said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice. "Trace the radiation signature from the shuttle engines and cross reference with the impact vector from the wreckage. Find me that ship."

"Processing," SAM said. 

Normally Sara found the clipped and artificial tone of his voice soothing, but now it grated on her ear and she tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for him to speak again. 

"The shuttle disappeared fifteen kilometers to the north-east, where an area of high-albedo ice interferes with scanners. It is the likely location of a kett base."

"Peebee, Drack, we're moving out," she said, and handed Vetra's helmet to the krogan for safekeeping. She handled it almost reverantly, and he grabbed her shoulder before she could turn away.

"We'll get her back, Ryder," he growled.

"You're damn right we will."

*

The kett installation was buried under a sheet of bright white ice almost twenty metres thick, which at least meant they hadn't seen the Nomad coming. Peebee cracked the security on a side door, which is where Ryder left behind her usual cautious, methodical approach. The door slid open and she darted inside with a biotic blink that took her halfway across the room. By the time Drack had even armed his shotgun the two kett guards were dead, heads severed from their necks by deadly strikes from an asari sword. Sara barely glanced at the bodies and instead went straight to the wall console, looking for feeds from the base security cameras. 

"Let me," Peebee offered. Ryder was getting better at operating kett tech, but her speciality was still the Remnant. Peebee half expected the Pathfinder to snap at her, but she shoved herself away from the controls and let her take over. 

The base was bigger than they had expected, but it wasn't the staging ground they feared - the kett presence would be manageable, especially given that most of them were new converts from the exaltation facility, but the scale of the operation was a shock. Peebee kept flipping through the feeds, looking for Vetra.

"Have the kett exalted any turians before?" Drack asked, leaning against the half-open door that led deeper into the facility so he could cover the corridor with his shotgun.

Nobody spoke.

"Ryder," he prompted. She sighed.

"Not that we know of," she said, focusing studiously on picking imaginary dirt from the pristine leather wrap of her sword hilt. "Dextro-amino acid chains aren't compatible with kett physiology."

"Yet," Peebee said. "They aren't compatible yet. "

Ryder tapped the blade of her sword against the armour plate on her thigh, and fought the urge to tell Peebee to shut up. 

"There," the asari said, finally finding a useful camera feed. Sara sheathed her sword and hurried to the viewscreen, where her stomach sank into the ground. The camera panned slowly down a row of cells that looked more cages than somewhere to keep prisoners, too cramped for comfort - especially for someone as tall as a turian. Most were empty. Some were stained with blood. There was an adhi in one, strapped to an operating table and stuck through with so many tubes Ryder first thought it was some undiscovered species of spider. And then, in the last cage of the row, was Vetra. She had been stripped to her underarmour and strapped to a similar table. The restraints wrapped around each of her limbs, one for each joint, and pinned her head down. Surely the kett could see that turian necks were not supposed to bend that far back? 

"Is she alive?" Ryder asked. Again, she was surprised to find her voice flat and stable.

"I… can't tell," Peebee said. "But look, she's hooked up to something." She pointed out a thin translucent tube that ran into Vetra's arm from one of the kett's strange insectoid machines.

"What the fuck is that doing to her?" Ryder growled. Her fists balled at her sides and her mouth ran dry.

"Don't know," Drack said. He hadn't moved from the doorway, but now he shoved the sliding door all the way open. "Let's go put a stop to it."

*

Sara could focus while they were fighting. Every biotic lance she threw, every knock her shields took, every kett that died on her sword kept her mind on advancing and off that dreadful image of Vetra strapped down in the cage. It wasn't long before the newly exalted kett were just fleeing before them while Drack complained about the lack of fight in them. 

"Fight back!" Sara screamed at them, but they ignored her. She wasn't ready to face that room, not yet, but she still wasn't going to shoot them while they fled. "You bastards!" she shouted, but none of them turned back. Peebee grabbed her arm to stop her chasing after them.

"It's this way," she said, softly, and Sara didn't like her tone - it made her feel like a frightened child. She gripped her sword and tried to get a hold of herself as she nodded. 

Someone shut down the power to prison to cut them off, but Sara had Drack to lever the door open and the three of them stepped into the darkened room with their weapons drawn. Their armour-mounted flashlights drew bright fingers of light across the bare metal ground, casting hard shadows of the cage bars around the room. The smell of blood and death lingered in the air. Sara pushed past Peebee and winced at the echoing of her footsteps. If there was anyone in there they'd have heard them already, or seen their flashlight beams, so she didn't bother with caution.

"Vetra!" she called out, but didn't get a reply. Instead, she could hear muffled arguing - unmistakably kett voices. Sara unclipped her sword from her back and carried it in her off-hand, reversing her grip so she could rest her pistol against the crook of her elbow as she advanced past the empty cells. 

There was a loud and disgusting wrenching crunch followed by a rattling screech as the kett did something to the adhi. Ryder couldn't make out their words, but they were clearly killing it. She had to stop them before they moved on to Vetra.

If they hadn't already.

The benefit of cages instead of sealed cells was that Sara didn't have to open the door to kill the scientists inside. There was no way she could save the adhi now: they had peeled open its ribs to plug cables and tubes directly into its organs. Anything that wasn't pierced by something mechanical was being leeched of so much blood that the flesh had turned white. Ryder's stomach lurched thinking about Vetra suffering the same cruelties, and spent a few precious seconds putting the adhi out of its misery with a shot to its exposed heart. It died with a gasp that sounded like relief. 

Vetra was in the next occupied cage. Drack and Peebee kept their distance to cover their flank, halfway convinced that the fleeing kett were a ruse and the power cut was a setup for a counter-attack. Sara ignored their tactical concerns, too hell bent on finding her turian to worry about things like escaping or even surviving.

Standing over Vetra's still form was another kett scientist, Ryder recognised from the more delicate shape of its limbs - much more suited to delicate scientific instruments than combat. He held a sharp blade to the gap between Vetra's brow plates and made soulless eye contact with Sara through the bars.

"The door is sealed, human," the kett said, voice barely more than a whisper. "If you kill me, my blade will pierce this woman's brain and she will die. Which neither of us wants." 

Ryder felt her lip turn up in disgust, but she forced herself to lower her pistol until it dropped from her fingers entirely. 

"What do you want?" she snarled. 

The kett's grip on the knife tightened. He spoke, but Ryder was too busy looking at Vetra to listen to him. Her thin lips were an unhealthy shade of blue, and the exposed skin around her eyes was bulging, red and raw, out of the plates of her face. But there was a subtle rise and fall of her chest, and an occasional movement of her eyes under their lids. She was not only alive, but conscious enough to dream. That was good enough for Sara.

"Sorry," she said, cutting off the kett scientist mid-sentence. The cage bars were narrow, but still spaced out enough that the brief incorporeality granted by a powerful enough biotic blink carried her through them like empty space. Her sword flashed up from her side in a movement so fast she didn't even see it move, slicing diagonally through the kett's wrist and connecting with the hilt of his blade hard enough to hurl it across the room. By the time it had stuck fast in the opposite corner, Sara had brought the sword down hard between the kett's eyes and split his head open.

"No deal," she said as he slid to the floor. 

She heard Drack whistle at her stunt from the other side of the cage door, but she was too busy rushing to Vetra's side. Her sword dropped from her grip as she pulled up her omni-tool - first as a blade, to slice through that vicious strap keeping her head pinned too far back, and then as a medical scanner.

"Vetra, tell me you can hear me," she begged as she passed the warm orange light down her body. She had been out in Voeld's freezing temperatures for far too long, but the kett had been raising her core temperature and applying medi-gel in a way that almost seemed gentle . By the time the scan had finished, Sara had no doubt that without her captors, Vetra would have died. 

She decided to thank them later.

The rest of her bonds and the drip were easily severed with a flash of her omni-tool, and by the time her limbs were freed Vetra was starting wake up.

"Sara?" she croaked, and tears welled into Ryder's eyes before she could stop them.

"I'm here," she gasped out from under a wave of relief. The fear still lingered - there could still be lasting damage if they didn't get her to Lexi on the Tempest soon, but she was breathing and speaking, and that was enough to calm her worries for a moment.

"It hurts," Vetra managed, trying to lift a frostbitten limb. "I can't open my eyes."

Ryder couldn't look at the welts around the only exposed skin on her face. "Don't try," she said, trying to sound confident that she would be okay. "There's nothing worth seeing here anyway."

Vetra made a sound that might have been a laugh and Ryder's heart somersaulted in her chest. She felt Vetra's hand brush against her wrist and quickly grabbed her hand. 

"Ryder, I can't feel my legs. I can't walk," she whispered. 

Sara was glad, for now at least, that Vetra couldn't see. She pressed angrily at her eyes to stem the tears and nodded. 

"Drack?"

"I got it," the krogan said as he wrenched open the door and lumbered inside. Sara only let go of Vetra's hand while Drack carefully lifted her off the operating table, and then immediately wrapped her fingers back around Vetra's once she was settled.

"Not the first time I've had to haul you out of a cell," Drack pointed out. He was joking but there was a strain in his voice that made Ryder acutely aware that he had been just as scared as she was. 

"No," Vetra croaked, "but this one makes us even." 

Laughing almost broke her, but Sara choked back her hysterics. She'd save them for later, when she should could share them with Vetra alone.

"Let's get you out of here."

[inarretable]

fear not mother, your daughter is a warrior ⸺ karitza ren. a mutuals only, 21+, low activity knight of ren oc. with verses to accommodate other timelines and universes. established through headcanons & pre-tros novels/written media. written by ame. this is a side blog that follows from @inebranlabl

information. prompts. aesthetic. find me at: @acharnemcnt

an exploration of . . . unholy motherhood, violent devotion, diving into the wreckage, home is the first grave, monstrous rebirth, children of war, bloodstained hands, ruinous sacrifice.

✱✱ This is a sideblog to @inebranlabl and follows back from there. You do not have follow back inebranlabl if you are only interested in Karitza Ren

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

Also, FYI, I am usually mobile bound and this is not my main blog, so I am not always logged in here. Therefore, it can take me up to a week or two to follow back at times.

i.   I’m mutuals only which means I only write & interact with blogs when we are both following each other. This blog is low activity so I will be fairly slow at times. I have a very busy personal life, so I tend to follow a very limited amount of blogs, for my own sanity and so that I can develop deeper, ongoing plots. 

ii.  For my own comfort, I will not follow blogs that don’t have rules, a name & age requirement, or writing posted. Primarily rules — posted on your pinned post or somewhere easily visible/accessible. I do not interact with writers under the age of 21. Please do not lie about your age. I will unfollow anyone who is racist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist, uses white washed fcs/characters or is unjustly discriminative. If you regularly vague or attack other writers, I will unfollow. 

iii.   Please do not godmod or metagame. I will also softblock if I have made several attempts to interact with no reciprocation. Feel free to refollow, but I will expect you try to engage first this time, around.

I don’t mind turning memes into threads but please ask first, or I will not reply. ( Everyone gets 2 initial freebies without asking ).

iv. I absolutely love OCs so give them to me! This blog is crossover friendly.

v.  This blog contains dark and potentially triggering themes. Please be safe! Some of which include: murder, gore, war, indoctrination, dismemberment, torture, death, child soldiers, etc. tagged cw/tw “the trigger”. Sexual content will be tagged cw suggestive.

vi. First of all, I respect everyone's ships. If I am not fond of a ship you enjoy, that doesn't mean you should not enjoy it freely! Ship hate is not tolerated here.

I enjoy dynamics of all types but I am little more hesitant with romantic ships. I just prefer to plot and develop our muses first to see if the chemistry is there before jumping into a ship. Please do not force or hint ships. Rather, if we are writing and plotting together and you think there is potential, just ask! The worst that will happen is I suggest an alternate dynamic.

Karitza is very closed, jaded and rough around the edges so she is not the best at relationships. That being said, I am open to toxic dynamics, I will not write abusive romantic relationships. And I don't feel comfortable writing hero/villain ships where one muse has tortured, abused or traumatized another muse.

FYI. I have integrated a lot of Karitza's star wars lore with a group of knight muses that I have heavily plotted with. I may mention them in my main star wars verses.

credit adjustment psd 001 by evansyhelp, silver lining by jaynedits , pinned image quote from: Natalie Haynes, Stone Blind: Medusa's Story

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Pinned under wreckage. Hmm, how about Intruality with Remus a construction worker where something went wrong? Preferably happy ending but any will do. (keep up the good work! You're amazing!!)

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library

Hold Onto Me

Summary: Patton had just wanted to deliver lunch to his husband when he saw the emergency vehicles at the construction site. All he can hope for is that keeping ahold of his hand will be enough. (Happy Ending)

Warnings: anxiety, major injury, blood, hospitals, emergency situation (if there are more please let me know)

Prompt: Pinned Down By Wreckage

Ships: Romantic Intruality (Patton x Remus)

WC: 4038

Disclaimer: I don't think this is how construction practices work but for the sake of the beginning that’s how it's gonna work because angst. The procedure to get him out is however fairly accurate, I did a bit of research as to how someone is rescued from that kind of situation but other than that please take the accuracy of this situation with a grain of salt.

Remus’ heavy boots thudded loudly on the thin catwalk leading over top of where the scaffolding was set in place for the floor of the third story of the new building, not that he could hear it over the general din of construction work. Everything looked good, he was only here to do a general sweep over before anyone else came up to lay the insulation and then actual flooring to make sure nothing would collapse. Being so high up he had a wonderful view of the fair bit of land whoever was moving into this house would own when it was done: a field with woods surrounding it with a long, winding road leading up to the front entrance. 

It was stupidly extravagant, some dream house Roman would have loved to live in if he was rich enough to afford but Remus had been so excited to work on it, and still was. He got to help with the design work and use his hands for hours and hours and even though he came home tired and sweaty he still loved it with every fiber of his being. Not to mention he got to go home to Patton who would smile and cup his cheek to kiss him before pushing him down the hall to shower while he started on dinner. He’d come out to help and they’d settle down at the table or couch to talk or watch a movie and then either work on their own things or cuddle up in bed depending on how tired they were. It was mundane and domestic most of the time but Remus loved that with Patton. He had him and his job and his stupid brother and he couldn’t be happier; everything in his life made him feel safe and happy and comfortable and he couldn’t imagine asking for anything better.

Of course it could all be ruined in an instant. One wrong step and he could certainly plummet to his death. The scaffolding could crack and he’d be impaled on a jagged piece of wood. He could break every bone in his body or be paralyzed for life and be a burden on everyone who knew him and- Remus shook his head impatiently, willing the thoughts away as he turned carefully and began making the rest of the way across the catwalk. Thoughts like that kept him on his toes at least but it was best not to dwell on them too much. He was always careful and he wasn’t about to jinx himself by thinking of everything that could go wrong on the job.

He almost laughed when he felt it: a shift under his feet that meant something could be loose. Of course he would manage to have the most ironic timing in the world. Carefully stepping back he looked closely to see if he could tell what the problem was but he saw nothing. Biting his lip he looked back up at the last couple of feet he had to walk. He should definitely turn around and tell someone to look and fix whatever might be wrong, but he could also save the time and try to figure out himself what it could be if he could just get a better vantage point. It was only a couple of feet, if he stepped wide enough he might be able to avoid whatever problem there was.

Mind made up he stepped forward again more gingerly than he had ever done anything in his life, faintly hearing the lunch bell ringing and the gradual silence that was left from the various machines being turned off and tools being put down. Good, he thought, that way if anything happens no one’s around to get hurt. He screwed his mouth to the side as he quickly dismissed that thought as well, mentally kicking himself for the possible jinx. It was only a couple of feet, just one step and he could hug the wall and lean over to see what the problem was. Honestly with the way the skeleton of the wall was he could probably squeeze himself between the gaps of the unfinished floor and climb down to safety to avoid even having to hop back to the catwalk and go all the way back around. Leaning forward a bit for stability he brought his arms out and quickly lunged for the one, grabbing a hold of two support beams and digging into them so hard his fingernails began to ache. Despite that his new position seemed to be fine, no more shifting under his feet as the tips of his boots found a bit of purchase on the floor's framework by the wall. Grinning through the adrenaline rush he maneuvered himself around until he was facing back towards the room and carefully surveyed the floor. They had laid the framework out in a hurry- ill advised but for the time crunch they were under it had seemed necessary. The consequence for them rushing it though thankfully just seemed to be a missing support plank, making a couple of the beams bow under the catwalk when they were walked on. An easy enough fix and thankfully one that would be relatively quick.

Remus looked down with a grimace. He could climb down...but he had already gotten in trouble once for using scaffolding as a jungle gym even if he was trying to be careful not to be caught. He’d rather not be labeled as a liability not even halfway through the project and since in reality there wasn’t that much wrong with the floor he really didn’t have an excuse not to walk back the way he’d come. Sighing in disappointment he stepped forward and began to make his way back across, the shifting under his feet only making him slightly nervous as he took a bigger step to avoid the worst of it- only to immediately regret it as the entire catwalk shifted to the right as the board he was using slid away from the framework. The catwalk was mostly just a series of shorter boards placed in a sort of grid pattern so you could walk around without there actually having to be a floor. The board he was standing on and currently trying his hardest to rebalance on had shifted under his weight making the edge fall off the board underneath it, meaning it was now hanging onto a beam less than three inches thick by a couple of inches at its end. So not only was then the floor not laid well but the catwalk hadn’t been properly secured either, and if he squinted even closer there wasn’t much of  the floor that was laid completely securely.

Swearing profusely a selfish part of him wished someone else was in this position besides him, maybe they could have figured out a way out of this mess. As it was it was just Remus alone up here, everyone else gone on lunch break and if they noticed he was missing they probably assumed he was either in the bathroom or fucking around somewhere he probably shouldn’t be...such as on the second story unsecured catwalk watching the floor settle and resettle under his weight with sweat dripping down his face. This was supposed to have been a quick job- ten minutes at most of him poking around to find something and now that he had he was risking practically the entire floor collapsing underneath him. He didn’t want to call out for help in case it actually did fall through and trap someone beneath it so it seemed as if it was simply going to be a waiting game in which either he or the floor would come out on top.

And with another shift underneath him it didn’t seem like it was his lucky day.

-----

Patton sang softly along to the song playing through the radio, tapping his fingers along with the beat on the wheel. He didn’t do this often but he really wanted to surprise Remus at work with a lunch. He had packed a little extra for dinner as well hoping he wasn’t too late to give it to him. Remus had said yesterday he’d have to stay a little later than usual to look over some things and do...whatever it was he had said he had to do to play catch up in the huge project the company had undertaken, an apology heavy on his tongue that Patton had preemptively forgiven him for with a peck on the lips and a smile. Though he wasn’t happy how over worked his husband often was, he more blamed the company and commissioners than Remus himself. He worked hard and it showed, and Patton was always proud of him. So, packed lunch and dinner it was with hopefully a quick visit before he had to leave since he was in no way authorized personnel but the people in charge often simply rolled their eyes and waved him through, vaguely threatening him with promised of forced exit if he stayed too long, which Remus never let him do anyway since an active construction zone wasn’t exactly safe.

The sound of sirens in the distance cut off his thoughts as his blood ran cold. Sirens didn’t have to mean anything of course, there were many reasons you’d hear them- but this was practically out in the middle of nowhere, near a construction zone which was again out in the middle of nowhere. Cursing he sped up just a little bit, desperate to get to the site and hopefully disprove what he already knew he’d see. He nearly started crying right then when he turned into the long drive only to see the house surrounded by emergency vehicles and people in uniform bustling from point to point to do whatever it was they had to do. He could see the part of the collapsed house beyond that, what looked like a cave in from the second story that had taken the supporting wall with it, though how something like that had happened Patton couldn’t fathom.

He hadn’t even clicked the engine all the way off when he was out of the car and running to who he knew was in charge, dodging out of the way and trying not to make a nuisance of himself so they didn’t have a reason to kick him off the property. There was no sign of Remus as far as he was looking, not even the sound of his rather loud voice cutting through the worried din of everyone else’s voices which only served to drop his stomach further as he swallowed hard around the nausea. Please God no, he thought. Please please please-

“Where’s Remus?” Patton didn’t think there was a need to bother with formalities in this kind of situation. He just needed to figure out where his husband was, go to him and make sure he was safe. It was a simple plan, the simplest set of goals he’d ever set in his life, but his heart sank as the supervisor turned to him with a grave look on his face that told Patton everything he needed to know before the other even began shaking his head.

“There was an accident. The floor- the floor must have been loose and nobody thought- I didn’t think to check on him after he went up there. We all know how he is.” He gestured helplessly to where several people were gathered around a section of rubble, the weight of a whole building bearing down on whatever they were puttering around. “We know where he is; it’s just getting him out.”

Patton didn’t need to hear anymore, noticing some of the people leaving the group and leaving a bit of space he could see the mess through. Most of it was just wood beams sticking out in every direction like a crudely placed beaver damn, some insulation from the ground floor poking up at the bottom. If he squinted though he could just barely make out a small space that had been cleared, a small hole that he could only assume was what they could safely clear away to see if Remus was still-

Pushing forward before he could finish the thought he hurried over to where the space had been made and knelt down next to it, laying a shaking hand next t o the rubble and iting his lip tp keep from crying.

“Sir you can’t be here-”

“That’s my husband in there.” Patton cut the woman off sharply, only feeling slightly guilty for his tone.

The woman softened. “I understand but-”

“I’ll leave when I’m in the way but right now no one’s doing anything so I’m staying right here so I can be with him. I’m not going to touch or disrupt anything but I’m not moving.” Patton looked up, defiantly daring her to continue, but after a moment she just nodded and backed away. He turned back to the space as a slight moan alerted him, gasping as long fingers emerged from the cramped darkness and reached out. A high pitched whine left Patton’s mouth at the sight of how bloody it was but he nevertheless reached forward desperately and grasped the fingers in a gentle hold. Faintly he heard a warning not to pull him as assistance was yelled for but he only shook his head as tears streamed down his face. Everything in him was screaming to lift the beams himself and drag Remus to safety but he knew it couldn’t work like that. This was a delicate situation that needed to be handled with care but the frustration only built as the seconds ticked by and nothing seemed to be getting done.

“Remus honey, I’m here okay? I’m right here and so are people that are going to get you out of there. You just hold onto me baby everything  will be okay.” He nearly choked on his own uncertainty but he couldn’t afford to let emus think he was anything other than certain he’d make it out of this. His fingers squeezed weakly and Patton’s breath hitched in relief, continuing to rattle out reassurances that he’d be out soon and they were doing what they could he just had to hold on a little bit longer. His head snapped up as a hand landed on his shoulder, one of the paramedics motioning people forward with equipment.

“Keep holding his hand and talking to him, you’re probably helping keep him awake.” Patton decided he didn’t want to think too hard on what  that might mean, instead simply scooching over slightly to make room for whatever it was they were doing and running his thumb gently over Remus’ knuckles as he took a steadying breath.

“They’re going to get you out Remus. They have equipment they’re setting up to get you out and then everything will be fine.” His fingers were squeezed again gently and the medic must have noticed since they paused and leaned down.

“We’re going to put two sturdy boards on either side of you to help stabilize what’s laying on top of you and then put airbags on the other side of them to lift everything up. That should give us enough room to remove you safely. If at any point your space gets too cramped or you feel things settle down on you more, squeeze your husband’s hand and he’ll let us know okay? We’re working as quickly as we can to get you out.” Remus squeezed his hand again and the medic nodded, signaling for things to begin. “This is called cribbing. It’s just putting a basic framework underneath everything to hopefully stop it from settling down more. And then those long tubes will be put in and inflated to lift it up, at which point you'll have to move out of the way so we can get him out.”

Remus squeezed his hand again and both the action and explanation Patton felt his anxiety ebb the tiniest amount. He nodded to the kind woman and moved to hold Remus with both hands as if doing so would make the process go any faster. As the emergency crew bustled around him and got everything into place he simply sat with cramping legs and blurring vision, reassuring the trapped man through soft touches and softer words as they moved thick, wedged shaped beams in front of the pile of debris. Holding his breath Patton tightened his grip slightly as they began inching the beams underneath, focusing his attention solely on the bloodied hand in his grip, poised to react at even the slightest twitch of discomfort. The boards were halfway in when his hand was squeezed weakly, jolting him out of his tense state to yell out a loud “Stop” to the team. They froze and looked to the woman still holding Patton’s shoulder, who leaned forward to be heard.

“Squeeze once if the pile is shifting, twice if we’re hitting you with the boards.” Two quick squeezes were felt and she nodded slightly. “Is there any way you can move without endangering yourself so we can get them in a bit more?” 

He felt a slight squeeze on his hand before shuffling was heard accompanied by a quiet  whimper that tore straight through Patton’s heart as he fought to simply hold the hand in support and not yank him out himself. He nodded as his hand was squeezed again and kept up his quiet reassurances, speaking just loud enough for Remus to hear him over the directions the medics were constantly throwing back and forth. After what seemed like an eternity the wedges were in place and Remus gave the go ahead to squeeze in the air bags. No one dared breathe as they were squeezed into place, no response from Remus unless they asked for confirmation that everything was still okay. 

Everything was going fine- the bags were filling up and Patton could see the rubble being lifted slowly but surely up and off his husband. They were so close to having him out and okay that it almost didn’t register when Remus’ hand went limp in his own. Patton felt the muscles slacken and the hand become sudden deadweight in between his own. Eyes widening he squeezed his hand gently, then perhaps a bit too hard as panic gripped him.

“Remus honey? Are you okay?” The slick hand remained still, fingers not even twitching to indicate he had been heard. “Remus? Remus!”

He thrashed as he was pulled away, screaming louder than he ever had in his life as Remus’ hand slipped away from him and he was hauled to his feet and backward. The medics crowded to fill the space and he lost sight of his hand completely, screaming louder and scratching madly at the arms around his middle.

“Let me go! Let me go, he needs me!” The logic that Patton more needed him than Remus needed Patton over the medics at the moment was flung out of the window as he bucked backwards attempting to throw off whoever it was but the person just held him tighter as they walked him away, heedless of his ear splitting screams. Vaguely he was aware they were talking to him but Patton couldn’t care less as the phantom sensation of Remus’ hand going slack in his own tore his mind apart.

“P…….Pat…...Patton please!” Virgil’s yell finally cut through the panicked fog and provided the window he needed to haul Patton the rest of the way over bside the parked ambulance and sit him down on the ground. “They’re going to get him, Patton, it's okay. I promise you He’ll be okay. And we’ll ride in the ambulance and go into the hospital with him and they’ll make sure he’ll be back to making idiotic decisions in no time.” 

The words meant to reassure him didn’t make Patton feel any better but all the fight left him, adrenaline running its course as he buried his face in his friend’s chest and wept. 

-----

Remus had Patton and Virgil as his first two people to call in an emergency and since Patton had already gotten there and hadn’t checked his phone someone must have then called Virgil when he hadn’t picked up. As bad as he felt he was grateful the other was there as he all but collapsed while they finally got Remus’ still, limp body out from under the wreckage and onto a stretcher, stabilizing him as much as they could before ushering him into the ambulance and driving away after denying them riding along since they needed the extra room. Patton all but dragged Virgil to his car, the other swiping away his keys and insisting he drive as Patton was in no state to and Patton really just agreed if only to get them going faster.

They didn’t get to go in Remus’ room for hours after that, apparently suffering a broken legs and ribs, a sprained risk and a minor concussion that had taken the rest of the day to fix, nearly sending Patton into hysterics when they were informed with the final comment being that he had gotten off lucky. Thankfully Roman and Logan had arrived at that point and they were able to sit with Patton through the night and morning before Logan suggested he take Virgil to get a change of clothes and other necessities so they’d be able to stay longer, Roman volunteering to come along to get Patton and Remus’ things as well.

The hospital room was quiet save for the soft beeping of the machines lining the bed and the gentle huffing breaths of Remus as he slept, thankfully peacefully, in the hospital bed that Patton had his chair pulled all the way up to to hold his now bandaged hand between his. He yawned loudly  and laid his head on his arm, eyes fighting to stay open as he promised himself he was merely resting his eyes but drifting off rather quickly considering the stress of the past couple of days. Confident he would wake if anything happened and trusting the others to come back soon he allowed himself to drift off.

-----

Patton awoke slowly to the feeling up fingers running through his messy hair, taking the time to gently brush out all the tangles of the previous day. He hummed happily and snuggled further into the tough, only to grunt in pain as his neck protested the action with a rather loud crack. Reality hit him all at once and he picked his head up to see Remus smiling tiredly down at him, Head wrapped neatly and already crooked nose set after what must have been the third or  fourth break he had already suffered. Patton’s eyes filled with tears as he  sat up and slowly reached for his husband, hands coming to rest on each cheek to make sure he was really there and alright. Smile tugging wider Remus brought his own hands up to rest on Patton’s, thumbs slowly running over the knuckles like he had done when Remus had been trapped.

“If I wouldn’t hurt you more and get hauled out by security I would slap you so hard for what you did.” In his tired state Patton honestly couldn’t think of anything better to say, but Remus only chuckled weakly and nodded.

“I love you too.”

Laughing softly with him Patton leaned forward to rest his forehead against Remus’ before pressing a featherlight kiss to the tip of his nose and softly whispered “I’m so glad you’re safe.” 

“I always am with you.”

Later a nurse would come in and smile at the two: Patton tucked under Remus’ chin and clutching onto his hands like a lifeline as they both slept. Quietly, he would turn out the light and shut the door, reassuring the people camping on the chairs outside that they were alright and they would sigh and shake their heads with amusement. The scolding could wait, they decided. For they would leave them to hold onto each other for as long as they needed.

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[quartzalynlove]

Die Trying

Pairing: Cloud x reader

Summary: it was chaos at the pillar, but why did you have to caught in it

Warnings: angst

A/n: got this prompt (and probably a lot of future ones) from a finish the story book I have

Maybe it was faith, maybe stubbornness, maybe something else. Maybe you didn't know the risks. But still, he had to admire how you wouldn't leave him behind.

The pillar was coming down, and Reno and Rude were berating what was left of Avalanche with every last shot they had. It was just you and Cloud. Biggs and Jessie didn't make it, and you were still searching for Barret. You all knew trying to stop Shinra from dropping the plate was a suicide mission, but the Avalanche motto was "save the planet or die trying". The group had taken a few hard lumps in the past, but they were all bruises compared to this.

Biggs was like a brother to you, Jessie was your best friend, and Cloud, pinned beneath a collapsed wall with dust invading his pressured lungs. He was the best thing that ever happened to you. The two of you were inseparable before he became a soldier. Once he left, you began to realize how deeply you cared for him. Tifa was a saint for staying with you all those anxious nights you stayed up worrying about what could happen on the battlefield. You even prayed on occasion, but no gods could help you now.

The battlefield was overseen but never interfered. You could feel the eyes of gods watching as your hands cut and scraped against the debris suffocating Cloud. Neither of you were sure how long you had been there, but he knew it was too long.

You strained yourself, crying in pain, but the wreckage wouldn't budge.

Cloud saw the tears streaming down your face as he struggled to breathe with broken bones and collapsing lungs. He coughed from the dust that still hadn't cleared before finding your eyes. Although they were broken, begging please with their red tint, the love still remained. He was glad he would see it one final time.

"Find Barrett." Cloud rasped from under you.

You quit struggling with the rubble and looked down at him in disbelief. You should've known Cloud would pull something like this, try to make you leave. It was a miracle you didn't lose him the first time, and by every higher power you could name you wouldn't lose him now.

"Yeah, right, you're coming with me." Your hands returned to the wall that still wouldn't move.

"Y/N," his voice was weak and it sent a chill running through your bones. "If we both die here, the mission wouldn't mean anything."

Why didn't he think that you knew that. To hell with the mission; you couldn't do anything without Cloud. You needed him. You loved him.

"Stop," your voice broke as you screamed. "Don't do this, Cloud, don't make me leave you!"

You couldn't will your arms to lift again, and you collapsed onto fallen wall, sobbing. Cloud watched you sadly from underneath.

"Save the planet or die trying"

You hadn't lived under that mantra for long, but the words had coursed through his bloodstream for a long time now, and it was time for him to see the end.

After letting out all of your tears, you sat defeated on the floor, your eyes lost and confused. You looked at Cloud.

"It's alright, Y/N," he had the audacity to sound so content, so accepting. It wasn't fair.

The limited and dust filled air was finally bringing Cloud to his end. He look at you one last time, the last image he wanted in his head before it all went black.

"I love you."

You sniffled, squeezing your eyes shut as if you'd open them again and he would be fine, but that wasn't the case.

"I love you too."

[scarlettriot]

⭑ FRIENDLY REMINDERS FOR WHEN LOOKING AT MY WORK ⭑

Please check the warnings, content, and/or tags of each specific fic before reading.

⭑ If you see this fire symbol 🔥 at the end of any of my works on this list, there is smut, and that especially means if you're under 18 you should not be on that fic!

⭑ Currently, all my Readers are afab (using either she/her or they/them or some variation of the two).

⭑ I age up my characters! You can assume they’re in their late 20s - mid 30s unless otherwise stated.

⭑ If you'd like to be added to a tag list for any of my upcoming or ongoing works, shoot me a message. Upcoming work can be found on my pinned post.

⭑ In light of the tag ban, it has become harder for creators' work to be shared. If you like any of these, please consider reblogging. As always, thank you so very much ☻

⭑ Updated 10/16/22 ⭑

| C H A P T E R • F I C S |

• I wish I could commit to a regular release schedule for my chapter pieces but it's just not in the cards right now. I have been putting a lot of time into She Lit a Fire, you can probably expect more updates to that fic coming soon. Thank you for sticking with me on these, you have no idea how much that means to me •

Breaking Point | College AU (the hockey AU) | Kirishima X Reader Starting college after a tragic event is hard to handle, as anyone would expect. It's why you mostly kept your head low and hung around by yourself. That didn't stop you from being a kind person though, offering your shower to the guy with bleach on his head when his roommates locked him out. A stranger that quickly wiggled his way into your life, and simultaneously, your heart.

★ Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six ★

Along For The Ride | Kirishima X Reader You accidentally marked that you'd be bringing a plus one to your snobby cousin's wedding and, rather than correcting the mistake, your best guy friend, Kiri, tells you he'd go with you if you don't have a S/O or a date by the time of the wedding. When that wedding gets moved up, you're out of time, and before you know it, you're traveling to America with Kiri... on a private jet no less...

★ Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ★

She Lit A Fire | (the dad AU) | Kirishima X Reader In an effort to outrun your past you were sitting on a park bench one warm evening, taking a short break from job hunting. You were trying to get out of the hero life but that didn't take away those instincts when you saw a little girl in trouble and no one around to help. You went to her, helped her find her father, and parted ways shortly after. But, you hadn't been able to get either of them out of your head for a whole week. When a villain attack has you hurtling down a valley, wreckage from the train you'd been on tumbling around you, a Pro Hero rushes to your aid, but, you didn't recognize the hero, you only saw the man who'd been terrified he'd lost his daughter that day in the park.

★ Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part Seven ★

| S E R I E S |

• My series consists of more than one piece under the same storyline, prompt, and/or theme. These works may have started out as one-shots and then I opted to add another part to them but don't intend on making them chapter fics •

🍒 Stood Up | X Reader 🔥 ALL A series in which a Reader is stood up from a date and a certain guy comes to the rescue. Disclaimer, I might be adding more characters to this in time but for right now, this is who you've got!

★ | Bakugo | Kirishima | Sero | Kaminari | ★

🍒 Poly Life | Bakugo X Reader X Kirishima 🔥

A small series about Reader’s life with her two partners and the ups and downs they come across along the way.

★ | Take You Home | Head Over Heels | ★

| O N E • S H O T S |

• One-shots are stand-alone fics that have over 1K word count •

🍓 Alone With You | Bakugo X Reader (BakuBirthday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Arrangements | Bakugo X Reader 🔥

🍓 Autumn Mornings | Kirishima X Reader (Kiri Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Birthday Spoils | Kirishima X Reader (Reader Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Birthday Surprises | Kirishima X Reader (Kiri Bday Fic) 🔥

🍓 Do More |once part of the Breaking Point Series| Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Faking It | Bakugo X Reader X Kirishima 🔥

🍓 Pajama Party | Mina X Bakugo X Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Quirked - 1920's Piece | In Time (Decades Theme) Collab | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Take Him Seriously | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

🍓 Taken | Kirishima X Reader

🍓 Unconventional Means | Kirishima x Reader ft. Monoma 🔥

| D R A B B L E S |

• Drabbles are stand-alone fics that range from 500 - 1.5K words •

💋 Not Afraid | Kirishima X Reader

💋 Dealing with the Past | KiriBaku X Reader

💋 Eat Out | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Handle with Care | Kirishima X Reader

💋 Hearing Loss | BakuSquad + Midoriya

💋 HR Manager Kiri | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Late Night | Kirishima X Mina

💋 Making Sundaes | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

💋 Movie Nights | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

| T H I R S T S |

• Thirsts are quick fics or thoughts that are under 500 words •

❤️ Close Calls | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

❤️ Grind Time | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

❤️ Popcorn | Kirishima X Reader 🔥

| M Y • C O L L A B S |

• Collabs I have hosted/co-hosted •

💕 And They Were Roommates!

• all personal works on this blog belong to scarlettriot. Please do not repost my work anywhere, or claim my work as your own. Please do not share or recommend my work on TikTok or other similar platforms. Thank you.

[ichayalovesyou]

Sorry it took so long, almost lost the ask and had to go through hell and back to retrieve it! This was a really fun prompt, honestly part of what took so long was picking my favorite set up! Enjoy!

Woe to Needless Heroics (Platonic Pike x Reader)

Requested by; @trekkiehood

Rating: Teen (Minor gore and language)

Word Count: 1k

Content: SFW/Platonic, GN!Reader, Lieutenant!Reader, Semi-canon EMT!Pike, Protective!Pike, tw claustrophobic environment, blood, broken bones, environmental whump, hurt/comfort.

Teaser: This rickety ship wreck is full of unpleasant surprises. You just made rank, deciding to accompany Captain Pike down a hallway in search of survivors, and find more than what you'd bargained for.

The wreckage creaked and gave way above both of you. You shoved the Captain out of the way before he could think of doing the same.

“Lieutenant!”

You were pinned, your leg and chest were screeching with pain, crushed under the weight of the failed support beams on top of you.

“No, no no no, come on!” It would’ve been a whisper if it weren’t for the echo. 

You heard the sounds of physical effort and clattering metal “Lieutenant Y/N are you alright?!”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe or see.

“Lieutenant please respond!”

“Here sir! I’m here!” You croaked.

You struggled to pull what was surely your minced leg out from beneath the debris, but you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. The wind must have gotten knocked out of you.

More clattering metal, then a beam of light from a flashlight, the Captain had found you! You both sighed in relief, but the Captain’s face fell almost immediately, as did your gut in reply.

“That’s not good,” he said quietly to himself.

Captain Pike’s eyes were darting about, assessing you, the beams, the walls around. It did nothing for the anxiety. Or was the pain in your chest just from the weight of the metal pinning you to the ground?

“You think you can help me get this thing off you Lieutenant Y/N?” He smirked through his poorly disguised intensity.

You nodded, but when you tried to help him with the beam across you, you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate. The captain looked alarmed, reevaluating. It seemed he didn’t need much help with the beam, he was pretty strong as it turned out. Especially with the increased sense of urgency rippling through his features.

“Wasn’t the smartest choice Lieutenant. I know you just made rank but playing hero like that is the fastest route to well, this.” Captain Pike knelt beside you, looking worried, maybe disappointed.

“No choice, sir. Saved-” You wheezed and coughed, something was definitely wrong with your chest.

The pain in your leg was getting worse too, but the last thing you wanted was to further humiliate yourself in front of the Captain. Though the creeping fear your life was in danger the longer you stayed in this shipwreck.

“Heads up wouldn’t’ve hurt, literally” he laughed half-heartedly as he rifled around in his pocket for something “We could’ve both dodged it.” 

You weren’t sure if you believed that or not. The thing he was looking for almost fell out of his pocket, rolling away before the Captain before he snatched it back up again.

“Medical tricorder sir?” You tried to sound casual and not terrified. Failing in all likelihood.

“This isn’t my first away mission, best to come prepared, and uh you might wanna stop talking.”

You winced in shame, the Captain’s expression softened.

“Don’t need a tricorder to tell me that you’ve got a punctured lung Lieutenant. Don’t want you hurting yourself more than you-“

The metal behind you shifted, your leg protested wrathfully, something tore. You cried out with what little strength you had in your damaged lungs.

Seeing the blood starting to pool where your leg was still trapped beneath a wall of metal and stone. Pike instantly opened his communicator.

“Captain Pike to away team, Lieutenant Y/N is injured and trapped under debris. Can’t move them by myself without risking further collapse. Doc, do you copy?”

“On my way.” The communicator crackled.

“Always when the transporter can’t get to us. Isn’t that always the way?” Pike said with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

You didn’t find it all that amusing.

“Am I gonna die sir?” You blurted with a harsh whisper that trailed into a whine.

The Captain looked at you instead of your wounds or environment for the first time since this mess started, taken aback and sympathetic.

“Oh no, no! Hey.” He placed a hand on your shoulder “You’re gonna be just fine, M’Benga is gonna be here any minute, and it’ll be a lot easier to pull you out with the whole team here. Nobody’s dying today. We’ll get back to the ship and you’ll be out of sickbay in 24 hours tops. You’re gonna be fine.”

He looked down the hallway impatiently, not taking his hand away from your shoulder. You were so tired, but too scared to let yourself rest. The rational part of you believed your Captain, and the hand was immensely reassuring, but the rest of you? It was scared of where you’d be when you woke up.

In what felt like an eternity later, Dr. M’Benga and the four other away team members turned the corner.

“Here I was thinking that we would be doing search and rescue for the crew of the Hermes, not for our own.” The CMO commented dryly.

“You’re not alone on that one Doc, now, let’s get ‘em out of here.” Pike replied.

Three crewmen held the debris in place, Nurse Chapel crouched at the ready to take care of your leg, M’Benga was doing further scans of your pulverized ribs.

“Take my arms alright? We’re gonna pull you out.” The Captain instructed softly.

“Three, two, one!”

It hurt like a bitch, but you could feel yourself pull free, the cold of the wreck hitting your blood soaked pant leg like a space frigate.

“Yikes! Looks like an undercooked lasagna down here.”

“Nurse!” M’Benga chided.

“Sorry! Working on it.” She replied.

You looked up incredulously, Nurse Chapel’s face looked like it was debating on whether to laugh or apologize to you. You daren’t look at your leg, deciding to take her word for it. Her total bluntness had earned an involuntary and excruciating laugh from you.

“See, I told you you were gonna be just fine.” Captain Pike chuckled “But seriously don’t laugh, takes forever to heal. Believe me, I know.”

You wondered if he’d ever tell you that story, it didn’t matter really, you were alive, and the Captain had helped you stay that way.

That was good enough for you.

[callipraxia]

A Simple Interview

(A quick one-off in response to a prompt - behold, what would normally be a very rough draft! Side note, yes, I know Frankenstein is the scientist and not the monster, but alas, the narrator hasn't read the book or encountered the Internet)

Summary: A rookie cop gets the unwelcome task of informing Stanford Pines - supposed scientist-turned-showman and the subject of many a local rumor - both that his brother has died under mysterious circumstances and that it's possible Stanley stumbled into a murder that wasn't supposed to be his. Stanley died in Stanford's stolen car, so were the brakes cut by Stanley's enemies or by Stanford's? And will Officer Clutterbuck survive entering the Murder Hut outside of business hours long enough to ask?

* * * * * * * *

The flaming wreckage of a wrecked car was found in a ditch 4 miles from the Highway 618 at 6am Monday morning. The cut brakes and odd location of the car suggest that this was no accident. Says a rookie cop, “Mighty suspicious. Mighty suspicious.” In other news… News clipping from “Not What He Seems,” seemingly reporting the death of Stan Pines.

* * * * * * * *

Some people, it was said, had all the luck, and Officer Clutterbuck agreed that this must be true. It was, after all, the best explanation he’d heard for why his luck was so chronically bad. Some people had all the luck, and Officer Clutterbuck didn’t happen to be one of them. If he had been, he never would have even heard that someone named Stanley Pines had apparently stolen his twin brother’s car, much less have been ordered to come tell said twin brother that Stanley had then proceeded to crash it into a ditch and die.

Nervously, he knocked on the unpainted cabin door, half-hoping no-one would answer. A few months ago, the hermit who owned it had suddenly opened it up for tours of his laboratory, but before that, rumors had always swarmed around this place like gnats around overripe bananas. Strange lights, strange sounds - strange man, or so they said, and the looks of his house didn’t make the whispers seem any less likely. Not only was it a desolate sort of spot despite the effort recently made to pin some signs to it, there was also just…the Murder Hut?

As a Halloween attraction, maybe it would have made sense - but to call it that all the time, that seemed a little much, at least to Officer Clutterbuck. He knew, though, that he wasn’t very clever, and also that it was possible his judgment was affected because of what he was here to say. It came across, right now, as the world’s most tasteless joke, but maybe under other circumstances….

Footsteps approached the other side of the door, and then there was a long pause before he heard some locks click and the door - still held mostly closed with a chain - opened a sliver, allowing Officer Clutterbuck to see a few distorted shadows. It took him a moment to recognize them as isolated human features. He succeeded in recognizing this only a second before a gruff voice said, “Whadda you want?”

Officer Clutterbuck cleared his throat. “Uh - Stanford Pines?” he asked. 

“Uh - “ the man on the other side of the door coughed. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Officer Clutterbuck - I'm with the sheriff's department?” He saw what he was pretty sure was an eye widen and thought the man was about to slam the door before he quickly added, “I’m - uh - I’m here to talk about your brother?”

There was another long pause, during which Officer Clutterbuck really wished he had some backup. He was barely out of what passed for the county police training academy and had never even arrested anyone. What could possibly make him the best guy to tell someone that someone who the first someone had known had probably been murdered? And that was if the someone had been a normal person, not some weirdo hermit who…all right, mostly it was just locals entertaining themselves by scaring kids and out-of-towners, there surely weren’t that many who really believed any of it, but it was hard, standing here in the middle of nowhere on this run-down porch, not to think of that crazy farmer he’d had to ask for directions. The man had warned him, with every appearance of dead seriousness, that Stanford Pines was a witch and that the last guy the farmer knew of who’d come to town looking for him had vanished into this house for months before he’d suddenly staggered into the village on a market day, tearing his own hair out in clumps and screaming at people about eyes and the Devil….

“Fine,” Pines said finally, brusquely, and he closed the door. There was a rattle as chains were undone, and after a slightly disturbing amount of that, the door opened to disclose a slightly bizarre figure: a tired-looking man, probably somewhere between thirty and forty, with a hairstyle - too tall at the top and too long in the back - which didn’t suit him at all and with clothes that didn’t quite fit him properly. Or at least the coat he wore even though he was indoors didn’t quite fit him properly: it was far too tight across the shoulders and, consequently, too short at the wrists. He blinked uncertainly at Officer Clutterbuck from behind a big, sort of old-fashioned pair of glasses - had the bit of his face visible before he’d opened the door had glasses on it? For a moment, Officer Clutterbuck thought that surely it hadn’t, but he shrugged the idea off. The interior seemed even gloomier than it was outside, and the door had barely been opened enough to show him anything, anyway.

“Sorry about that,” Pines said, in a tone which somehow made an apology sound almost rude. “Thought you might be that lunatic hillbilly who…What about my brother?” His expression became strangely fixed for a moment before he continued with. “Uh - I mean - “ And then his voice shifted slightly before he finally, rather stiffly, concluded with, “I assume you’re talking about Stanley?”

Officer Clutterbuck swallowed hard, trying to remember how he’d been told to play this. “Uh - can we step inside and sit down, sir?”

Pines scowled at him, and the general gossip, more common than the witchcraft allegation, about him being a mad scientist who was trying to raise Frankenstein out here floated to mind again. “Let me guess,” he growled. “You've found him, but you’ve still got no idea where my car is?”

Officer Clutterbuck swallowed hard again. “Please, sir,” he half-pleased. “I really think we should sit….”

“Oh,” said Pines. “So he’s dead, then.”

Officer Clutterbuck froze, unsure how he was supposed to respond to that - it hadn’t been in the script, the idea that Pines would just guess on his own! He’d been warned that the dead Pines having stolen the living one’s car might well fail to prevent the man from going into shock or denial - according to the guideline sheet, the reason he wasn’t supposed to say anything until they were seated was because it wasn’t unheard of for relatives to faint dead away and knock their heads open! They weren't supposed to just bluntly guess like that!

“Fine,” Pines repeated, sounding more annoyed than shocked or grieved by the unspoken confirmation of his guess. He turned and started shuffling down the poorly-lit hallway behind him. “Close that behind you!” he shouted over his shoulder, which Officer Clutterbuck supposed was the closest thing he was going to get to an invitation. 

The inside of the house was not a place Officer Clutterbuck would have liked to spend a dark night. The hallway, it turned out, was not gloomy because there was no means of producing light: it was gloomy because the lightbulb seemed to have been broken. If the amount of dust on the pieces still clinging to the fixture was anything to go by, it had also been broken for a while. It was still obvious, though, that the umbrella stand by the door had a number of weapons propped up inside it instead of umbrellas. When he glanced into what he assumed was supposed to be the sitting room, he saw, instead of furniture, a huge skull of…something…and piles upon piles of mixed junk. Most of it seemed to be books or papers, but there were also, under yet more thick palls of dust, strange apparatuses the likes of which Officer Clutterbuck had never seen: glass and metal tubes and spheres, things that looked like they were either meant for taking measurements or cutting off appendages, dead and dying plants, unrecognizable charts and graphs, a glowing machine that almost looked like it was from an arcade, except it wasn’t…

“Stuff for future exhibits,” Pines’ voice said, suddenly too close to and immediately behind him. Officer Clutterbuck nearly fell over in surprise. “Come back in two weeks and give me twenty dollars and you can see ‘em then, once I’ve sorted them out better.” 

This admonishment administered, he led Officer Clutterbuck past a room that looked surprisingly clean, well-lit, and organized - presumably a part of the lab he gave tours of - and into a tiny kitchen, which was at least cleaner than the hallway had been or the sitting room had looked. There were only two chairs, which matched neither each other nor the table. Pines pulled two mugs, also mismatched, from a cabinet and put them on the table before he added a coffee pot to the mix and sat down.

“Coffee?” he offered, extending the pot toward Officer Clutterbuck, who shook his head uncertainly. “You care if I have mine?” Officer Clutterbuck shook his head again. Pines poured coffee into the big enamel camping mug and then sat back to drink it, his eyes never leaving the younger man in the other chair. Officer Clutterbuck, unnerved by the direct stare, felt his eyes skitter away nervously, and they landed on the second, rejected mug - a smaller affair of chipped porcelain which wished someone a happy Father’s Day. 

“Do - uh - do you have children, Mr. Pines?” he asked, hoping that the answer didn’t involve kids being brought up in this place. 

“Not that I know about. Pretty sure that’s not what you’re here to ask about, too.”

“Er - no, sir,” Officer Clutterbuck. He took a deep breath, wishing Pines’ expression was even slightly less inscrutable as he drank his coffee and looked out through the shield of his glasses. “I’m sorry to have to inform you, sir, but - what you said before is…mostly true.” No response. “We did find your car - though I’m afraid it’s completely totaled - but your brother Stanley has…he’s passed away.” 

“First thing that idiot ever passed without cheating, I guess,” said Pines. He frowned and added, “why do people call it that, anyway? You’d think that dying was a NASCAR race, and that he pulled ahead in the final lap to get first place or something. Just say someone’s dead if that’s what you mean.”

“Uh - sorry, sir,” said Officer Clutterbuck, utterly miserable and unsure if this was the correct response. “If you prefer, sir, then - yes. He’s dead.” 

Pines didn’t look surprised. He just nodded and then added, “I assume that’s also why my car’s totaled?”

Was this what shock looked like? The guidelines hadn’t really done a very good job of explaining what that was supposed to be, if it took forms other than fainting. The television shows which had inspired Officer Clutterbuck to join the force made him think there were other ways it could present, but…

“Yes,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m afraid he, uh, seems to have died in a car crash, and that the crashed car seems to have been, uh, the one he stole from you.”

“Then I guess I’ll keep the Stanmobile. Heh, he might not know it, but I’m coming out ahead of him in this deal - that car was a piece of junk, it barely ran. I, uh, haven’t gotten out much lately,” Pines added. “For a while now.” 

“Oh,” said Officer Clutterbuck. He took out his little notepad. “Had, uh, had Stanley visited you recently? Before stealing your car?”

Pines shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t know why Stanley was in Oregon, but it definitely wasn’t to visit me. Hadn’t seen him in years. I don’t know how he even found out I was here, but I assume his original plan was to ask for money.” He scowled at nothing. “He never was anything except a screwup riding my coattails when we were kids," he added, his face hard and his voice harsh, without any noticeable emotion other than anger. "Which is why I'm guessing he was nothing at all after Dad threw him out. Nobody’s going to miss him, I can promise you that.” 

“I…can’t comment on that, sir,” Officer Clutterbuck said carefully. “But it’s possible someone’s…actually happy about his death? Or - maybe unhappy that it wasn’t yours.”

That got Pines’ attention. “Huh?” he asked.

“It’s - “ there wasn’t a script for telling someone his brother had not only died but had possibly burned to death. Could he avoid doing so? “You see, Mr. Pines, the thing is…the brakes of the car were cut. That’s what we assume made Stanley lose control of the car. The thing we can’t determine is exactly when the brakes were cut - and so….”

“You can't determine whether somebody was out to get him or out to get me,” Pines concluded. “Huh. Well, it did take you folks a couple of days to find him. Probably happened at whatever fleabag motel he was crashing in - uh, no pun intended.” Pines took another swallow of his coffee. “Explains why he stole my car and left me his, too, I guess - he was trying to throw someone off his trail, and not doing a good job.”

“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you? Just in case?”

Pines went very still. “What makes you think I could?”

“It’s, uh, it’s just a routine question….”

His attempt to mollify Pines didn’t seem to work. The man stood in his agitation, backing toward the sink. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he snapped. “About me, about my brother, about any of this - but I mind my own business, okay? I stay here, I do my science, I give tours to idiots for extra money, and that’s it! I don’t know what Stanley was into, and I don’t want to know, so I can’t help you, you hear me? So it’s time for you to go.”

“Sir - “

“Did I stutter? Unless you’re a paying tourist, I want you out of my house!” 

There was a strange look in Pines’ eyes - almost wild, definitely not...okay, not okay in the head. Officer Clutterbuck decided that since he was not one of the people who had all the luck, he really would be well-advised to consider discretion the better part of valor. He fled and didn’t stop feeling glad to have gotten out alive until he was several miles away.

Back at the station, he found himself accosted by a reporter. “I understand you’ve been assigned to investigate the car crash out on Highway 618,” the reporter said. “There are rumors that there may have been foul play. Can you comment on that?”

Officer Clutterbuck reflected for a moment on his disturbing encounter with the man’s brother and shrugged helplessly. “It…does look mighty suspicious,” he said finally, concluding that, at least, was definitely true. “Mighty suspicious.”

[jinmukangwrites]

Eh I prefer cold sweet tea to coffee.. But how bout wild n hyrule going feral on a bad day :3

Send me a coffee rec and a character/pairing, and I'll attempt to write a ficlet in 10 minutes

I'm really liking this 10 minute timer I have myself on. I might keep it around for prompt and drabble fics from now on, lengthening it or shortening it depending on the situation.

“Wait, I’m confused. How did you survive that?” “I didn’t.”

-o-o-o-o-

Wild was getting tired of this. The endless hoard of monsters attacking left and right, witteling down their energy like Sky working on a carving.

He hated ambushes, and this was the second time in the past three days.

Beside him, Hyrule made a frustrated growl, knocking a moblin back with his shield and lifting a fingers. In a familiar move, Hyrule snapped, and lightning came from the sky. A good chunk of the monsters were instantly killed.

It wasn't enough, but it got Wild's blood pumping.

Hyrule wanted to show off huh? Two can play at that game.

Wild jumped off a ledge and pulled out a bow mid-air and aimed not one, but three bomb arrows as he fell. The arrows whizzed past with perfect accuracy, taking out his own portion of monsters. He glanced at Hyrule, and Hyrule glanced back. Fire danced in his eyes.

It's on.

"Oh Hylia," Twilight said somewhere behind them, recognizing what was about to commence.

And what commenced was awesome. For how tired of monsters Wild was, it still have him great satisfaction to just let loose with someone as strung up and tense as he was. Eventually, the other heroes backed off, watching the show as the monsters reached a manageable level for two eager heroes.

After Hyrule had somehow magically turned a bunch of monsters into harmless chu-chu's, Wild decided he wanted to finish this competition off with a bang.

He grabbed his slate then summoned the circular bomb and threw it at the remaining monsters. But, Hyrule—not noticing the bomb nor recognizing the danger—stepped towards the group with a glowing sword. It was already too late by the time Wild noticed his friend entering the blast zone. His thumb already pressed the activation button.

Hyrule was blown back by the explosion. But so were the monsters and the surrounding tree's. Some of the Links called out in horror as Hyrule disappeared under the wreckage, but Wild was already rushing forward with blood pumping in his ears.

The panic settled down to guilt when he found Hyrule pinned under a fallen tree, surrounded by dead monsters. Singed, scratched, but alive.

And laughing.

That guilt turned to relief.

"How did you survive that," Wild asked, already bending down to lift the fallen tree. Some of the others came to help, while Sky dragged Hyrule out by his armpits.

"I don't think I did," Hyrule chuckled through a groan at being maneuvered. A healing potion was already being shoved into his hands. "My ears are ringing."

"Maybe we should keep our competitive spirits in check next time," Time said, ever the party-pooper. Though amusement and relief flickered in his expression.

"No promises," Hyrule said, grinning, and Wild couldn't help himself but to match it.

[thornescalling]

“ we both know i’m not walking out of this one. it’s okay, alright? it’s okay… just… do me a favor, will you? will you make them pay for this? i don’t care how. but… don’t let them get away with it. “ 💕💕💕

Thank you~! Prompt list.

-

It always comes back in flashes.

It starts as an ache behind Avery Starseer's eyes, then a tumbling, woozy feeling. The first year or so, it was mild, the occasional déjà vu coming and going like the swinging of a pendulum. But then it got worse. They found themself waking up in the sand seemingly passed out at higher and higher frequency. They sought help from the elders of the village that rescued them, but all they could assume was heat stroke. Their lode lightened during the day, but the only consequence was falling on stone instead of sand.

This time, however, they didn't wake up under the sky of Thanalan. No, the stars were all wrong. They spent enough time staring at them, mentally charting them, to know they were wrong.

Avery groans, rolling over onto their side, but it's not sand or stone beneath them, but ash.

"Avery!" Someone shouts, not far from them. A girl, her voice sounds ragged and raw, desperate, and fading fast. Regardless of who she is, she needs help. That much is clear.

Their vision swims, searching through the flames and wreckage for the source of the voice. Instinctively, their hand reaches towards their head, only to come away sticky with blood. That would explain the headache. Had they lost years of their life again? No, no this was unfamiliar, they were helping in the quarry not a minute ago. They remembered that, and clung to it even as their eyes scanned over the battlefield long dead around them.

"Avery!" The cry sounds again, the same intonation, as if an echo from a cave. But that couldn't be right, it was close by, and they were in open air.

Eventually, their eyes land on the outstretched hand in the distance. Its fingers are bloody, crooked like they'd been broken. Even still, they shakily hold themselves up, like a cry for help. For rescue.

"I'm coming!" Avery shouts back, their throat feeling like the ash that surrounds them, "hold on, I'm coming!"

Crawling past jagged debris, a sharp pain in their leg keeps them grounded. Around a sharp piece of some sort of technological ruin, they find her body.

Half trapped under a shard of rubble, she reaches out towards Avery as they get close. She's Hyur, black hair stuck to her rapidly paling forehead by blood. Her eyes are blue, her chest rising and falling softly with each ragged breath. Even looking right at her however, they can't make sense of her features. She looks like... No one, like they were staring into the sun.

"...I'm here." Avery mumbles, eyes scanning over the wreckage pinning the girl down.

"Avery!" The same shout, distant, despite the fact they can see her shout it right next to her.

"I'm here!" They repeat, grabbing hold of her broken fingers. She swallows, and seems to meet their eyes. She takes a shaking breath, face slowly distorting into tears.

"Survive..." She whispers. Avery's eyes go wide, clinging to her fingers. They don't know why, but they know that the fingers are numb. The girl swallows with difficulty, an action Avery mimics.

"Avery... We both know I’m not walking out of this one," she says, the words spilling from Avery's mouth, "It’s okay, alright? It’s okay."

It's not okay. This is wrong, this is all wrong.

"Just… do me a favor, will you? I don’t care how, but… Don’t let them get away with it. Make the Garleans pay." Their voices echo together as Avery recites the words back to her in time, like they knew they were coming. Like they had said them to start with.

"My my, aren't we tired today?" The voice comes from the girl beneath them, but it is familiar, a man's voice. "Come on then, Starseer, wake up."

"Thancred...?" Avery whispers, opening their eyes to the white-haired Hyur smiling down at them, surrounded by a white glow of the Thanalan sun.

"Who else?" He holds out a hand and helps them up, dusting the sand off their shoulders. "They were worried sick about you, you know. You hadn't come back, and asked me to keep an eye out when I passed through."

He tilts his head as Avery raised a hand to their own forehead, closing their eyes and groaning in pain.

"Come on," He slings an arm over their shoulder, "let's get you home. I think some rest and water would do you some good."

[incandescentsims]

Who’s ready for 31 days of Mermaids and even some Mermen?

It’s coming up to that time of the year again!

🧜‍♀️MerMay 2021

This year I decided to create my own prompt list!

Feel free to join in, I’d love to see how you interpret the prompts. You can do all of them or pick n' choose the ones that inspire you.

Have fun with them!

Tag #31 days of Merfolk 2021 or @ me for reblogs.

You can check out my MerMay edits from previous years HERE

Transcript under the cut:

incandescentsims #31 days of Merfolk

MerMay 2021

1. Tropical

2. Angelic

3. Fashionista

4. Star Wars

5. Rescued

6. Kawaii

7. Moonlight

8. Western

9. Mother’s Day

10. Scuba Diver

11. Bubbles

12. Skull

13. Wreckage

14. Romance

15. Lagoon

16. Pin Up

17. Lighthouse

18. Siren Song

19. Galaxy

20. Pirate

21. Treasure

22. Storm

23. Ancient Ruin

24. Royalty

25. Kissed

26. Waterfall

27. Sunset

28. Magical

29. Darkness

30. Rainbow

31. Mersona