#any sense of anatomy is thrown out the window | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sequinsmile-x · 11 months

Note

I know you’ve probably done this one so so many times but I am a hoe for Hotchniss secretly dating/married fics ugh

I am ALWAYS here to write these fics, bestie. I haven't written secretly married in a while so I went with that. I blame how this came out because I have been re-watching Grey's Anatomy haha

-x-

Tailspin

They only just got married and she might lose him.

AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a car accident on the way home from eloping.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Car accident, injury detail

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She wakes up suddenly.

She wasn’t even aware she’d fallen asleep in the first place, her memories hazy as she blinks repeatedly, desperately trying to clear her vision, all of her senses dulled, a loud ringing in her ears. Her chest aches, her lungs seemingly refusing to fill with desperately needed oxygen. Her head hurts, the bright light that apparently surrounded her blinding and she lifts her hand to her forehead, her confusion only increasing when she winces and pulls her fingers away to find blood on her skin.

“What?” She says outloud, her voice strained, the ache in her chest increasing, “What?”

She looks to her left and gasps. Aaron was unconscious, his head against the steering wheel of their car, the metal of its frame crushed around him, making him seem small for the first time since she’d met him. One of his arms was thrown across the centre console at a strange angle, his palm just short of her knee.

“Aaron.” She reaches out to touch him, but his complete lack of a reaction only adds to her fear, and everything comes back at once. The memories all hit her with the same force the other car had hit them with. They’d been laughing, joking about how the team would react to their news, how their ‘weekend away’ had always been intended to be more than a well-needed break, when a car came out of nowhere, hitting Aaron’s side of the car with full force, sending them spinning out of control. The metal scraped loudly as it was torn open, the screech of the tires the last thing she remembered before she must have hit her head and passed out.

There’s a knock on the passenger window and it makes her jump, the sound enough to knock her senses back into place, the high-pitched ringing in her ears replaced with the sound of sirens and the voice of a stranger, a kind-looking woman on the outside of the car who was assuring her she’d be ok, her panicked facial expression not matching the tone of her voice. Emily nods, increasingly aware of the ache in her neck, in her entire body, and she turns back to look at Aaron who was still unconscious. She reaches out for him, her hand finding his limp one over the centre console and she holds it tightly, her heart aching when he doesn’t hold her hand in return.

He always held her hand.

“Aaron, you need to wake up,” she says, watching him carefully for any sign of life beyond the all too gentle rise and fall of his chest, “I need you to wake up. Help is coming, we’ll be ok,” she winces and presses her hand to her chest, the all too familiar feeling of cracked ribs rippling under her skin, “We’re going to be ok.”

When the EMTs arrive they pull her out first, something she protests, insistent that they get Aaron out before her as she’s lifted onto a gurney, her neck in a brace she knows she doesn’t need as she tries to turn back to look at the car. The sight of the firefighters tearing what was left of the car apart to get to Aaron makes her breath catch in her chest.

“No, I need to wait I need to know he’s ok,” she says, not missing the fact she all but begs as she reaches out for the EMT who introduced herself as Holly when she helped her out of the car “Please. He’s my…I need to know he’s ok.”

Holly smiles at her, the look on her face reassuring, seeming out of place given how Emily’s world felt like it was still spinning on its axis, the motion from the crash still happening all around her.

“Emily, your boyfriend is-”

“My husband,” she interrupts, unable to stop herself from unnecessarily correcting the woman in front of her.

It was where they’d gone for the weekend, a rare couple of days just between the two of them. They’d gone to the courthouse on Friday evening with Jack and Jessica in tow. Emily and Aaron’s wedding had been a 10-minute ceremony that was nothing but perfect for both of them. As soon as Aaron proposed they both knew they didn’t want a big wedding. Over time their thoughts of a small ceremony in Dave’s backyard evolved into simply eloping, Elizabeth and Penelope’s plans for the wedding and the bachelorette party respectively slowly driving Emily crazy.

So they’d eloped. They went for dinner with Jack and Jessica after the ceremony and then got in the car just the two of them for a weekend away in New York. Just under 48 hours spent in a very expensive hotel, hours lost to good food and incredible sex, in a suite that she’d spent most of the time convincing him was her treat. They were on their way home. They were driving to Dave’s, ready to tell the team that they were married, to face the inevitable wrath of their friends, and they were t-boned by someone who ran a red light.

They only just got married and she might lose him.

“He’s my husband,” she says, tears leaking out of her eyes and running down to her ears, burning her skin the entire way, the heat of the pre-emptive grief in her chest overwhelming, “We just got married,” she looks back at Holly and she tries to suck in a breath, pain catching on her ribs, “We eloped we got married less than two days ago. We were on our way to tell our friends. I can’t-”

“Emily,” Holly says, placing an oxygen mask on her face, allowing Emily to take a couple of deep breaths, “We need to focus on you ok,” She nods towards the car at the EMT who was now leaning halfway into it and working on Aaron, “See that guy there?” She asks, waiting for Emily to nod in response, “His name is Todd, he’s my partner. He’s annoying, like a brother, but he’s very good at what he does. Do you know anyone like that?”

Emily chuckles, the sound feeling unnatural, and it sticks in her chest, catching on her ribs as she thinks of Derek and the rest of the team. “Yeah, I know someone like that.”

“Good,” Holly says, reaching for her hand and squeezing it, “So Todd has him, and I have you,” she assures her, “And the sooner we all get to the hospital the sooner you can see your husband, ok?”

She wants to argue, but the pain is catching up with her, every muscle in her body aching, so she simply nods as more tears streak down her face.

“Ok.”

___

She’s in the waiting room when the team arrive.

Her injuries were minimal given the extent of the crash. She had a lot of stitches in her forehead and a hell of a concussion and three cracked ribs. Her entire body ached, an echo of how she had felt all those years ago when she was run off the road and almost killed on a case, but she was ok. She’d been discharged with pain meds and replacement bandages and told to wait for news about Aaron.

He was in surgery, he had been since the moment he arrived. She’d been given vague updates so far. He had internal bleeding that had been complicated by his already existing scar tissue from Foyet and it was going to take a long time to fix. She tried to remind herself that it was good he was still in surgery.

It meant he was still alive.

“Emily?”

She barely reacts to the sound of her name, her eyes still fixed on the floor as she’s surrounded by the team. JJ sits on one side of her and places her hand gently on Emily’s back and Dave sits on her other side.

“We were on our way to yours,” she says, turning to look at Dave, swallowing thickly, “This guy came out of nowhere, ran a red light,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “It happened so fast.”

“Em, are you ok?” JJ asks, her eyes fixed on the bandage on Emily’s forehead as she turns to look at her, “Should you be sat out here, if you need to see a doctor-”

“I was discharged. I have a concussion and a few cracked ribs. Nothing I haven’t survived before. Aaron…” she chokes on his name, blowing out a breath, “His side of the car took the impact. He didn’t wake up. He’s in surgery.”

“Do you need us to call Jessica?” Dave offers and she shakes her head, her lips set in a firm line.

“I called,” she says, “I told her to stay at home, to keep Jack busy. He…he doesn’t need to sit in a hospital whilst he’s waiting to find out if he’s lost another parent. I’ll call when we have an update.”

“Hotch will be fine,” Penelope says reassuringly, her voice full of false enthusiasm, “He has to be.”

“Side-on collisions only account for 1-in-10 of car accidents but account for 1-in-5 of car accident fatalities. That part of the car isn’t built for a collision like the front is-” Spencer is cut off as Derek kicks him, and he looks at Emily, see’s how she’s glaring at him before she looks at the floor, and he stops, clearing his throat, “Sorry.”

“What have the doctors said so far, princess?” Derek asks crouching down so he forces himself into her eye line.

“He has a lot of internal bleeding, it’s been made worse by his scar tissue,” she says, her voice flat as she repeats what one of the doctors had told her, “And his right arm is broken, they think…” she clears her throat, “They think he threw it across me in an attempt to protect me during the impact and it was broken by the force of my airbag. It needs pining back together.”

She had bruises on her chest. Not just from where the seatbelt had held her in place as the car twisted around them, but across her collarbones too where Aaron’s arm had hit her with full force. She need him to live so that wasn’t the last time he touched her, so that she wouldn’t have to watch his last moment of love for her fade away from her skin. Purple turning to yellow and green as her world collapsed around her.

She needed him to live.

She needed him.

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?”

They all look over to the doctor standing in the doorway of the waiting room, and Emily is on her feet in a moment, able to ignore the pain that burns through her entire body. “That’s me.”

“You’re his wife?”

She sighs, closing her eyes as she knows there is no way the team won’t have missed the doctor's question, and his wedding ring that she’d slipped into his pocket, the doctor had taken it off when he was being prepped for surgery, suddenly feels heavy.

“Yes, I am.”

She feels everyone’s eyes on her back as she listens to the doctor tell her that Aaron was almost done in surgery, the relief palpable as he assures her someone will be by as soon as they can to take her to his room. As soon as they are alone again she gives herself a moment to blow out a breath before she turns back to her friends, all of their eyes wide with confusion and shock.

“Look, before you all-”

“You just said that to get past the red tape right?” Derek asks, cutting her off as she sits down, his eyebrow raised as she looks up at him.

“You really shouldn’t lie to medical professionals, Em. They can check on that kind of thing,” Dave replies, and when her eyes meet his he’s smirking and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t lie,” she says, “I am his wife. We eloped this weekend and we were going to tell you this evening.” They elapse into silence, the secret she and Aaron had been sitting on for a few weeks as they planned out the few details they needed to sort out heavy in the air around them. She’d spent most of the journey home from New York overthinking about how they would all react, Aaron’s hand on her knee as he assured her it would be fine, “Look, I get this might be a shock and this isn’t how either of us wanted you to find out, but if you could all wait until Aaron is-”

“Who had this week?” Dave asks, looking at Spencer, cutting her off before she can go any further.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Emily asks, frowning, wincing as the stitches in her forehead pull at the movement. “Who had this week for what?”

“JJ had this week,” Spencer says, and Emily briefly looks at her friend next to her when she cheers quietly, still aware of her surroundings even though she was clearly happy with something, “You had next week.”

“Damn it,” Dave says, shaking his head, “So close.”

Emily scoffs as it clicks, and she shakes her head, “You were all betting on when we would elope?” She looks up at Penelope, who at least looks a little sheepish, and raises her eyebrows.

Penelope sighs, “You really couldn’t have gone for last week?” She asks, crossing her arms, “I really thought all my talk of a scrapbooking station at the bridal shower would have tipped you over the edge.”

Emily laughs. It hurts, and it feels inappropriate, but she laughs, and she shakes her head, “You guys are the worst.”

Dave chuckles and places his hand on her back, rubbing a gentle circle, “We’re all happy for you, Bella. And as soon as Aaron is better we’ll throw a hell of a party at my place.”

She nods, blowing out a steady breath at the thought of it, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

___

She calls Jessica to speak to Jack as soon as she sits in Aaron’s room, her hand wrapped around her husband’s as she reassures the young boy that his dad was going to be ok, that he could come to see him in the morning.

She keeps a vigil by his bedside, keeping her hand in his even though the others offer to take over for her. She knows she can’t go anywhere, that he wouldn’t leave if it was her in the hospital bed, so she stays put. Her fingers twisting his wedding ring around his finger. She’d slid it back on as soon as the nurse had left them alone, unable to bare to see him without it even though she’d only put it on him in the first place two days ago.

She notices the moment he wakes up, the familiar scrunching of his eyebrows he did every morning, the first sign of life from him that she was so achingly used to. She waits until his eyes open and she squeezes his hand, perching on the edge of her seat next to his bed.

“Hi honey,” she says, her smile shaking as he looks at her, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says gruffly, blinking against the bright lights of his hospital room, “Are you ok?”

She chokes on a sob, “You’re the one who had your insides rearranged by the steering wheel and have more metal in your arm than bone now, and you’re asking if I’m ok?”

He squeezes her hand, the sensation enough to make tears escape past her lashline, “You’re my wife, I just want to know you’re ok.”

She nods, lifting their joint hands to her lips to kiss his knuckles before she stands up and sits on the edge of his bed, desperately needing to be a little closer to him. He didn’t smell like him. He smelt like blood and disinfectant and hospital, but he was alive. That was enough.

“I have a concussion and a lot of bruises. A couple of cracked ribs,” she says, shrugging slightly as she readjusts the cannula in his nose delivering him oxygen, “I’m ok.” She says and Aaron nods, his relief visible even through his obvious pain and discomfort. He smiles at her and she can’t help but return it, “What?”

“We really started off marriage with a bang, huh?” He says, his voice rough and she chuckles, shaking her head at him as she pushes hair from his forehead.

“Is that you trying to make a joke?” She asks, her fingers lingering over the bandage near his temple, “Because that’s a pretty shitty joke.”

He smiles at her, his eyes dazed, a sure sign he was high on pain medication, “It made you laugh.”

She nods, leaning down to kiss his cheek and then his nose, “Well, I’ve had a pretty rough day,” he opens his mouth to apologise and she stops him, shushing him as she shakes her head, “It’s not your fault. None of it. I’m just so glad you’re going to be ok.”

“Me too,” he replies, encouraging her in for another kiss, “I’m also glad we had a lot of sex this weekend because it’s going to be a while.”

She laughs and then winces, her rips aching with it, and she bats his hand away as he tries to reach for her.

“You, Aaron Hotchner, are high on painkillers and saying all sorts of things you usually wouldn’t.”

He smirks at her, “Doesn’t mean I’m not usually thinking it.”

She kisses the back of his hand again and sighs, preparing herself to tell him about the team, “The others know. It all kind of came out when I was waiting to hear about you. Turns out they had some kind of betting pool going with most of Quantico for when we were going to elope.”

He frowns, tilting his head slightly, “Who won?”

“JJ,” she replies, shaking her head, “I told her she needs to get us a nice gift from her winnings,” she kisses his cheek, giving herself a moment to feel the warmth of his skin, “Want to know the most surprising part though?” She feels him nod against her and she pulls back to smile at him, “Strauss was in on the bet.”

It takes him a moment to register what she has said, and she can practically see her words fighting past the medication and the pain, and strangely thats the very thing that lets her know they are going to truly be ok.

“She was what?”

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

76 notes · View notes

natowka · 3 years

Note

Uhh how about big eyed Stripe? jkjkplsdontthatwouldprollybeanightmare-

Too late 😈 You already put the idea in my head and I thoroughly regret drawing it lol

#I’m not even going to show his eyes cause...😷#just...no #it really does look like a nightmare #the hands are so deformed holy shikfkc 😭#this is what happens when I try to draw as fast as possible #any sense of anatomy is thrown out the window #doodle #asks

23 notes · View notes

artistlara · 2 years

Text

@jils-things happy birthday!! <3

#*rises from grave* I LIVE #*looks at the calendar* only for today bc it’s my bestie’s birthday #posting these together and today bc I’m not delaying it any further <3 #happy bday to my bestie jil!!! she’s so cool i love her/p #also my sense of anatomy was thrown out the window so these look kinda wonky #but we’re not gonns talk abt that #been a while since I last did rendered art!! i’m p proud of these :D #uhh yeah that’s all!!#🍵lara does art #🌻friends!#🌼jil #self ship #self shipping #self shipping community #f/o x s/i #others ships #u-4989 #childe genshin impact

20 notes · View notes

bedrock-to-buildheight · 3 years

Note

Hi I just wanted to drop by and say I absolutely love your art style! I’m always super impressed by how well you manage to communicate character designs while still keeping it fairly simple and cartoony. Plus all your drawings just have a comforting sort of vibe to them if that makes sense? Any time you draw someone they immediately look like they would give great hugs

I’m gonna let you in on the secret behind that: it’s intentional

This art style is crafted (ha ha, crafted) specifically to accommodate for how weird minecraft skins can be. I took into account how the more blocky styles tend to be restrictive when it comes to emotions and gestures, while more natural styles are too human-shaped for some skins like Tapl up there. Or any of these people

Or mine! If I’m famous I’ll probably get the cyclops treatment kakfjjsjdfkad

The vibe comes from how I’ve thrown any semblance of anatomy out the window, it’s all driven by action lines and expressions and a lot of foreshortening (as natural poses do). Another thing is that I usually only post art when it tells a story, and to tell a story I have to put more thoughts into all of those things above, plus composition, which boosts the liveliness of the drawing by a ton

#ask bedrock #a long answer for a long ask #thank you for putting so much thoughts into looking at my drawings kgksldskflda

153 notes · View notes

utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

NSFW alphabet for ethan x mc??

> nsfw alphabet otp asks <

Pretty sure I’ve already done the entire list for Ethan x Becca? ANYWHO, here we go again!

Aftercare: What they’re like after sex They like to relish in their closeness for a few minutes afterwards no matter who’s on top. They’ll generally break apart when Ethan starts to fall out or Becca’s too sweaty. If they had a very rigorous session and made lots of mess Ethan will be the one to get up and clean - padding to the bathroom for a damp towel to wipe himself and Becca down. Becca will usually be laying in whatever spot he left her in, absolutely useless with tingly legs. Every time Ethan always chuckles at the sight of her silly lopsided grin and hooded eyes of satisfaction. Ethan goes for rounds so the first time once they’re cleaned up, they’ll cuddle and chat. Sometimes he’ll make Becca some tea and force her to drink lots of water so that she’ll pee soon. She needs at least 30 minutes of recovery, Ethan usually an hour. Ethan can fall asleep after sex and a shower rather quickly as long as she’s in his arms. Orgasm’s have the opposite effect on her. She’s the energizer bunny once she’s recovered and Ethan knows he needs to find a way to tire her out for good or plan sex earlier in the day. He never does, though.

Body part: Their favorite body part of theirs and of their partner’s Becca really loves her natural waist. She has a true hourglass figure and she looks CINCHED. Lingerie looks so good on her because of it. Ethan really loves her boobs but his absolute favorite part of her is the little uneven dimples of her brightest smile. Her favorite part of Ethan besides his hypnotic eyes are his hands and shoulders. She could happily sit on those shoulders all damn day. Whereas he doesn’t have a favorite part of his body. It’s a body. It functions. But if he had to choose it may as well be his toned calves.

Cum: Use your imagination for this one aha (what are they like when they finish, how do they feel about their partner’s cum/face, etc) Becca’s eyes are shut tight from the second she notices she’s inching closer and closer. She’s very mental about the whole thing - like, she’s one of those people who can get off on just words, and the environment needs to be just right in order for her to really hone and enjoy her orgasm. But when Ethan is close she tries so hard to keep her eyes open and watch him. Sometimes she screams, sometimes she moans, other times it’s a little “ooh”. Rarely does she actually says his name as she climaxes. Ethan’s face changes each time with the varying degree. The one constant is the way his nose scrunches and jaw slacks into the sexiest “0″ face. His deep, ragged breaths so erotic. 6 out of 10 times she cums right after watching him. Combine that with the feeling of him filling her up (because we all know these two don’t know what a condom is) and she is done for. If she’s gonna swallow it’s because she’s feeling generous or guilty. When she and Ethan first started fucking around she was more inclined to let him cum in her mouth. But once they hit the domesticated days he’s lucky if he gets to do it once a year. She’s very very picky about blow jobs - he’s gotta be clean and freshly showered and she’s gotta be just a little bit inebriated. Funky salty taste? No thank you. Becca likes great oral hygiene. Sometimes when she’s feeling extra frisky she’ll lick her taste off of him. Ethan loves the taste of her. His favorite thing to do on his birthday is eat her out for longer than necessary. There’s a sweetness there that he’s never tasted on anyone else - he just can’t get enough. (boy doesn’t realize it’s love 🙄)

Dirty Secret: Do they have any secrets that would come to light during sex (not kinks) Not really. They’re both too into the moment and one another to have any important or revelatory conversations. Becca does fart in front of him for the first time during sex though.

Experience: How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing? Before Ethan, Becca has had eight sexual partners including Bryce and Rafael. She was very adventurous in undergrad but once she hit med school and realized it’s time to be an Adult™ she reigned in the escapades and tried to settle down. She almost married a boy from med school but... that didn’t work out for reasons outlined here. She has toys and played around with them for a while, so she knows exactly how to get herself off. As for her partner, she knows what to do in the general anatomy sense of tricks that’ll finish him quickly like clench, suck and swallow, little finger - those kinds of universal things that come in handy when she was fooling around back in the day. But she prefers to take queues for her partner of what he specifically likes. Ethan has ten years more experience than Becca and a total of 11 sexual partners. He’s a giver and has gotten very good at perfecting his tongue technique. He knows he’s relatively easy when it comes to finishing so it’s always about his partner.

Favorite Position (Bonus horny points for including a visual) Becca loves The Trifecta; Ethan’s on top sucking her tit, one hand between their bodies and rubbing her clit, and his tip at her entrance. She gets wet instantly. And there’s a bit of teasing to it that gives him all the power of her haze of the moment. Her favorite position is Cowgirl. His is Temptation (on her back on a table, her legs thrown over his shoulders, him leaning in so they can kiss for maximum penetration).

Goofy: Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc They take turns depending on who’s initiating and where they are lol Becca likes to tease Ethan and throw little remarks his way. She’s also the one to suggest games and toys with a very sly smirk and wiggling eyebrows he’s powerless against. Ethan is mostly more sultry and praising in the moment. He jokes back with her, matching her banter like always.

Hair: How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc. Ethan is very well scaped. His genetics are also so superior that he doesn’t have a ton of ass hair. He’s getting old and starting to go gray, and that’s driving Becca wild. She has a little tuft in her dark brown, natural hair color. Sometimes she grooms and gets a bikini wax, most of the time she doesn’t. IF she has a high sex drive one week and really wants to get freaky she’ll shave herself with Nair/Veet.

Intimacy: How are they during the moment, romantic aspect… Becca lives in the moment and glamourizes it. She needs mental stimulation to help get her off whether it be dimmed lights and closed eyes or Ethan talking dirty. When she’s really trying to catch an orgasm that seems like it’ll never come her way she tends to be a bit removed from the moment than Ethan would like. She loves the romance and foreplay portion. Neck kisses and dry humping are her jammm. Ethan is very much present and very tuned into her needs. It is all and always about her. Sometimes he’s much to selfless in the bedroom for her liking. Like, when she knows she’s not gonna cum that session he doesn’t really accept that and keeps drawling it out. And then she’s gotta pull out a secret weapon to finish him off and not hurt his feelings. These two never lack intimacy. Their favorite positions are the ones where they’re facing and can look and leave lingering kisses on the other’s face. Very disgustingly cute. Doesn’t mean they’ll stop fucking against the window though.

Jack Off: Masturbation headcanons perhaps Okay so Becca usually watches whatever free porn she can get her hands on in the moment. It’s always a spur of the moment thing and she can’t get off without some sort of mental aid and one of her vibrators. Now that they’re seeing one another and fucking more consistently, Ethan doesn’t see the need to masturbate. Nothing could ever compare to the real thing, so why bother. Though when he did it was usually in the shower and thinking of her and he hated himself for it. Phone and Skype sex has always been a favorite of Becca’s. It’s also the only time Ethan actually approves of her vibrator.

Kink: Does the character have a kink or a few? Becca is curious. She’ll try anything once. Katoptronophilia usually does the trick when it’s just her and her vibrator. She loves when Ethan talks dirty, especially about cumming in her. Ethan’s a boob man. And we know he’s an exhibitionist. He likes his balls fondled and maybe a finger up the butt if he’s drunk enough 😉 As a couple they like to play around with dom/sub and roleplay. Other times they dabble in sensory play.

Location: Favorite places to get down and dirty Becca really likes the couch - any couch - for some reason. She likes being pinned down on the soft cushions completely unable to move with Ethan on top of her - she also likes being able to use the back to give her legs more leverage, and ofc when Ethan bends her over the arm. She’s always wanted to try changing room sex and when she broaches the topic with Ethan he always says something along the lines of “nowhere respectable in boston”. Ethan prefers the shower or anywhere with large windows - the living room, his penthouse, his office, his car. As much as she tries to coax him into fucking in the on-call room or to finally give her one of his much anticipated supply closet ‘kisses’, Ethan always retorts with how much better his office is. She knows the benefits of the office but sometimes she wants to get freaky elsewhere. He’s supposed to be up for whatever wherever whenever. They’ve humped in the park a couple times, but Ethan always squashes it before things can get too far and result in a public indecency violation.

Motivation: What turns them on, gets them going etc Bickering turns them both on immensely. Both Ethan and Becca are wildly attracted to the other’s mind so any sort of stimulating conversation or argument would get them both hot and bothered. Bonus points for an angry quickie. Becca biting her lips drives Ethan insane. Combine that with a very ginger caress of his inner thigh under the table or even her fingers playing with his tie and he is raring to go. She really loves when Ethan whispers in her ear and kisses her pulse point and nibbles on her earlobe. He’s done this, then went right to rub her clit, spoke a couple words and she lost control and fell apart in minutes as he held her flush against his chest.

NO: Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs Becca will not do anal. No no nope nothing will be going up her butt. One time Ethan was very very insistent and got a rude awakening when she boshed the whole evening and made him sleep on the floor of her bedroom. Her biggest turn off is smell. There’s a difference between sultry musk and man stank. Lucky for her Ethan’s very good at cleaning himself. Ethan’s a lil freak and willing to do anything that involved sex with Becca. He’d probably draw the line at humiliation and degradation though.

Oral: Preferences in giving or receiving, skill, etc Becca definitely loves to receive. Laying there and doing nothing but running her fingers through his hair is her bread and butter, sometimes even the dessert too. As for skill level she’s average. She’s very picky about circumstances and therefore lacks lots of practice. Though she does a very wonderful thing of rolling her wrist while she’s sucking him and swirling her tongue around his tip that throws him over the edge. She keeps that little skill in her pocket and only breaks it out absolutely necessary. Ethan’s a giver. Always has been. That’s it. That’s the explanation 😂

Pace: Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc. Depends on the time of day and the moment. Generally, Becca likes it deep and a little rough - she also likes being on top so she can control the pace which is usually a lasting fast. As a whole, Ethan is slow and sensual. He wants to build her pleasure and make it last all night for he maximum affect. Though he religiously takes commands from her about pace.

Quickie: Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. Becca knows she takes forever to cum. She knows she needs a lot of stimulation on all fronts. So a quickie for her is to scratch an itch instead of actually finishing. Unless Ethan’s been teasing her all day to rile her up and she can’t take it any more and has to have him now. She prefers quickies in the morning when she’s still groggy, it’s an invigorating way to wake up that also puts his morning wood use before they need to shower - lots of birds, one stone. Ethan’s on the same wavelength. He’s not opposed to a quickie. Though he says he’s not a man of endless patience, he is for her. He’ll gladly spend hours making her feel good. Since they’re both doctors with demanding schedules and not a lot of free time for one another outside of work, nor enough time to properly sex and sleep, they try and have sex once a week - any kind of sex. Realistically though, it’s usually a quickie (no more than 15 minutes) and it’s twice a month. On their one ‘weekend’ off together per month they treat themselves to long, languid, experimental sessions.

Risk: Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc. These two will do anything. Except for Anal. Becca will not do anal.

Stamina: How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last… We know Ethan goes for rounds. Generally at least two per sexscapade, and he lasts around 45 minutes each round. He needs just under an hour to recover fully. She’s always wet for him and raring to go. Their longest single sex session was 66 minutes long and loaded with foreplay and fun in almost every room of the apartment. There are some times when she’s just too over sensitive to go for another go, and he’s more than happy to clean and cuddle.

Toy: Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves? Becca owns a rabbit, a wevibe (one of the pocket ones with a remote for maximum fun), love egg, a bullet, and a cock ring. She’s not afraid of exploring her sexuality. I have a whole HC where Ethan is offended by how quickly she’s able to get off with her toys and knows he could never compare. It makes him feel like he’s not enough but then she gives him a lecture about different types of releases. Eventually Ethan comes around to using her toys. The cock ring and wevibe are his favorites. He doesn’t like wielding the rabbit though. There’s something about fucking her with a light up pink vibrator that doesn’t sit well with him. He’d much prefer to use his fingers and tongue.

Unfair: How much they like to tease? Depends on the evening and the moment. For Becca, teasing is a part of the long foreplay game. It gets her going. But as for personality, she’s teases Ethan 24/7 about everything, not just sexually. So there’s always some sort of teasing involved. Unless it’s morning or shower sex and they ain’t got no time for games.

Volume: How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc Becca is loud. She likes to be very vocal about how she’s feeling whether it be whimpers, gasps, grunts or mumbles against whatever he’s put in her mouth to keep her from giving them away. Him trying to silence her only turns her on more. Ethan is a grunter. And a dirty talker when coaxed. He’s also perfected his voice - low, gruff baritone that oozes sex. He’s stupidly athletic so he doesn’t run out of breath easily which is an advantage. His mouth is usually busy kissing, sucking, biting, licking to really make any other noise than grunts or moans. He is partial to a gasp and groan when she is driving the affair and he’s utterly powerless against her 😏

Wild Card: How wild are they in the moment? Borderline feral sometimes. Hands grabbing, tongues darting, legs wrapping and teeth biting whatever they can. Other times, they’re slow and sensual. Like sleepy morning sex, Becca’s favorite is slow and lazy and some interesting positions where neither of them don’t even need to roll to get that deep spot.

X-Ray: Describe what’s going on in their pants through pictures or words Ethan’s HUNG. He’s average for someone 6′6 but is wider than most when standing to attention, so much so that Becca needs a couple moments to adjust to his size every time. He’s also very good about scaping - he trims and keeps the pubes tidy so if she wants to go down on him it’s not a horror show. Also, Ethan was born in the New England area so odds are he’s circumcised. Becca waxes. She usually keeps a bit of a bush because she’s generally too lazy to keep it perfectly tidy. When they first start seeing one another she’s very anal about keeping a tight ship. But then the toxin shit happens and neither of them give a fuck - they’re just happy to be together.

Yearning: How high is their sex drive? As stated above, they’re busy doctors. They have high sex drives and are wildly attracted to one another, but sometimes they’re so exhausted. Becca’s usually some variation of wet which makes the whole quickie thing a lot easier, but this girl prefers to be pampered and lose herself entirely in Ethan. For an old man, Ethan’s got stamina. If it was biologically possible he would always be inside Becca right where he belongs. Sometimes round two is just him going down on her. She’s the same. Generally always ready to get down unless he had her Screaming and now she’s over sensitive and her legs don’t work. Then she’s gotta tap out. In the beginning stages of their relationship they usually have sex at least twice a week - which averages out to ~5 orgasms for her and ~3 for him. Over a year into it they’re deep into domestication and okay with ~5 her and ~3 him per month.

ZZZ: How quickly they fall asleep afterwards Ethan is always on clean up duty. It’s very rare that he’ll be too tired to roll out of bed after a session. Normally, if they had late-night sex, he’ll fall asleep 15-20 minutes later. Orgasms invigorate Becca. They can’t have sex too late in the evening otherwise she’ll never sleep. Generally it would take her an hour to calm herself down enough to enjoy a peaceful slumber. It helps that curling up into the nook of Ethan’s neck is the most comfortable place in the universe.

#boink boink #ethan x mc #ethan x becca #ethan ramsey #open heart #Anonymous #asked

31 notes · View notes

purkinje-effect · 3 years

Text

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 75: Paper Weight

Table of Contents. Third Instar, Chapter 6. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Religion, joint issues, diet/appetite weirdness, brief transphobia adjacent anxiety, minor dehumanizing ghoul treatment. Uh. Not in that order. A slightly longer groundwork chapter, and continuing evidence that I am, in fact, criminally insane. [Updated 2021.07.12.]

“...[F]ixed in a sort of eternity at the heart of the crystal.” -- Orwell’s 1984

______________________________

‘Choly woke to Sticks gently stroking at his long dark shock-streaked hair. He could not discern the time of day without any light sneaking in around the edges of curtains, and recalled their inn room did not have windows. The ghoul drew his attention back to him with a drowsy smile.

“Ready to start the day?”

To resist the draw to curl up into Sticks, ‘Choly stretched out with a yawn, only to jerk his eyes open. He laid on his back for some time. In the night, one of his shoulders had separated and dragged his neck out of alignment.

“--I’m not ready, but let’s start anyway. Angel, be a dear and turn the lights on, please.“

The Mister Handy puffed to life again. Reignition of its pilot light cast dim outlines to the space. Unveiling the Burlington glass fixtures returned the room to unnatural illumination by that strange red-green light which ‘Choly disliked intuiting as gold. By the time Angel had completed the task, Sticks had thrown himself out of bed to dress.

‘Choly managed to sit up, and palpated at his errant joints, using the mindful pressure of his fingertips to coax things back into place. Not dislocating his fingers in the process required what little focus he could summon without coffee or his reinforced gloves, but he could barely move let alone think straight with the strumming stitches radiating through his arm and neck. He squirmed inside, knowing he couldn’t help but force Sticks to bear witness to the strangled hisses and cartilaginous pops.

Angel presented ‘Choly a can, which he accepted half-awake. He put on his glasses one-handed.

“A canister of fresh water to start your day, Sir? I’ve only got the one at present, if you’d like to split it. More is on the way.”

“Would you be able to open it...?”

“I have no sharp implements,” it apologized.

“Give me that.”

Sticks snatched it playfully and held it between his knees while he reattached his Pip-Boy and left hand. He hadn’t quite got to buttoning his shirt just yet. He slipped the glove off his mechanical prosthetic, and produced a sort of multitool from the armature of the region analogous to the metacarpal bones. As the ghoul made use of the folding implement, ‘Choly watched the hand’s exposed mechanical parts in motion, intimating tendons and ligaments, not always attached to something resembling a bone. A dull pop liberated the can’s lid. Sticks took a few swigs and handed it to ‘Choly helpfully, before hiding the tool again and slipping the glove back on. He moved on to finishing with his shirt so he could tie his bow-tie blind, humor to his breath.

‘Choly simply sat there and observed Sticks at length, nearly altogether forgetting gratitude or thirst. Words failed him. Sticks ran his right hand over his one surviving curl of hair. The blond ghoul noticed him staring and sat up straighter.

“What?”

“A pocket knife? That’s allowed?” He kept turning his neck, head held at deliberate angles, seeking that last tweak of alignment his cervical vertebrae wouldn’t yield him.

“See’s never asks me to show my hand,” he shrugged. “Half the time, they don’t even notice it’s not flesh.”

“This isn’t about your hand, and you know it.”

“Hey now. They’re fine with utensils. It’s got to be scarier than a butter knife to make them skittish. Really, though. Don’t mention it. It’d probably risk ‘em taking my whole hand, especially now that it’s wired into this thing.”

Sticks huffed a bit. Angel leapt to assist when his neckwear wouldn’t cooperate.

“Oh, do let me help you with that, Sir.”

“Thanks, chap. Hard to do without a mirror.”

“I brought in a hand mirror.” Unappeased, ‘Choly gestured to Angel for his hairbrush, which he set to using with his head dipped between his knees, desperate to couple the inversion of gravity with cadence of his brushing. Once he sat up again, he looked to Sticks. “Which, would it be all right if we brought in some things from the car? I figure that even if we get lucky today, we’ve paid for a week, so we may as well stay for a week. No sense in rushing things. Might miss something, if we do.”

Sticks tilted his head.

“I could warm to that. What all would you even need to bring in, though?”

“Little things,” he reassured a little too quickly. “Toiletries. Some spare clothes. Nothing too elaborate.”

“I don’t see why not.” He gripped his own knees. “Let’s knock that out. After, we can head to breakfast. Now. You want my help with your corset and stuff?”

‘Choly’s shoulders folded in as he worked at unbuttoning his shirt. His reservations came not from distrust but self-consciousness. Despite having partook in several kinds of sex acts with him already, he still preferred that the ghoul only see him naked from behind, if at all. But, he didn’t care to parse any selfishness or perversion in the offer: he wanted Sticks’s help. He’d be a hypocrite, anyway, to find fault in Sticks’s own enjoyment of the activity, when his very physiology provided the same passive delight for ‘Choly. He pulled the corset to him, and removed his shirt so he could hook the busks. Only then, holding it up against his front, did he relent to receiving help stringing the back. The more pieces Sticks helped him into, the more straightened out and held in place he felt. More clearly than usual, he craved the full-body orthotics set, in the expectation that with them he might feel normal again. Functional again. In any sense. In every.

He objected, mostly internally, that his brain would thrust heavy self-reflection on him so soon after waking. The idea of returning to bed enticed him again. No. Sooner than do so in the bathroom mirror, he pinned up a french twist blind and loose.

The two finished off the water before leaving the room.

They first stopped at the restrooms, where Angel waited just outside. ‘Choly flinched at the doorway, only to scold himself for even thinking he shouldn’t use the men’s room. He remained aware of others the entire time, relieved to go unnoticed and unremarkable. He insisted to himself that the night before had been a fluke.

Exiting the mall made ‘Choly wish he’d brought his visor inside. The garage’s luminosity wasn’t significantly greater than inside the mall, but the shift in hues to natural lighting pulsated in his right-sided cervical migraine. He didn’t think he’d gotten used to the limited color spectrum indoors so soon, yet here he was, nearly thinking seeing any color besides red, green, and gold signified he was seeing colors which didn’t exist. The intensity with which he saw cyan, magenta, and even white, he approximated to an aura migraine. The edges of his vision felt over-illuminated and blurry. If this sensitivity overload would take place every time he adjusted to and from Burlington glass lighting, he decided he would avoid going inside and out with any frequency for the remainder of their stay.

In the garage, mostly only the children paid any attention to the trio. So early in the morning, many inhabitants shared cinder block campfires to prepare community breakfast. On the way to Little Boy Blue, they passed through delectable aromas of sweet breads and pan seared meat.

Sticks opened the trunk for ‘Choly. Once he could tell ‘Choly intended to make use of Angel’s storage compartment to carry his things inside, he tossed in few of his own clothes too. He smirked at yet another of ‘Choly’s outdated behaviors:

“You packed like you’re on vacation.”

“A vacation with a purpose, perhaps. I’m grateful for it, though. It doesn’t seem this hotel has complimentary soaps.”

Sticks snickered.

“To broach a veritable elephant,” Angel stressed, “I must point out that while we may be booked for a week’s lodging here, you only have four Melancholia remaining, Mister Carey. In addition to our primary goal, we should stay on the lookout for toothpaste and mouthwash today. And we may no longer require them for first aid, but do recall that Stimpaks are the most important part of that recipe.”

Stimpaks. 'Choly paled at his oversight.

“Surely four of those things will get you through the week,” Sticks muttered. “You can’t swear off food now, with the biggest restaurant cluster in New England at the other end of the building.”

“...If I can help it.”

Sticks puffed up.

“Not if I can help it.”

The Mister Handy and chemist turned down the invitation to argument.

On their way back inside, ‘Choly saw Maury eating with a group of other settlers. He didn’t want to interrupt their meal, but he still waved. When See’s screened them, ‘Choly showed them Angel’s compartment again. Everything passed muster with security, albeit thoroughly rifled through. ‘Choly welcomed their return to the clear, dark uniformity of the mall interior’s red-green glow. They dropped off their things at the room, then went into the mall proper.

The Concourse seemed to only just be waking up by this hour. Most walked southward like them. Only half the stores looked open for business. ‘Choly looked to his Pip-Boy for the time. Just after nine. He accepted it and slouched as comfortably as he could atop Angel.

He figured most of the people headed to the food court were Laners, while the rest were probably visitors, or at least lived outside the mall. Along the way, he people-watched, eventually making a visual distinction between Laners and everyone else less by their routine and more through their attire. The fashion of mall denizens seemed to posit some commixture of Irish crochet, beaded silk, and embroidered tweed, bakelite and astrakhan, plus-fours and long trailing skirt hems, chemisettes and dickeys tethered with layers of scarves and shawls.

More people packed into the boisterous food court for breakfast than had for dinner. Even getting to the counter with the shortest line took patience, with hundreds seeking their first meals. Sticks ordered himself carrot pancakes, then turned to ‘Choly.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in breakfast? With the lines like this, I’m not ordering twice.”

Fatigued lyric traced his reply as he patted at Angel’s storage compartment to retrieve his Billerica Golf Course mug with a smile:

“You can interest me in a cup of coffee.”

The ghoul impatiently resigned to a smaller order than he’d liked, and flashed his inn room key fob to net a discount. He requested a plate from Angel, and took it and ‘Choly’s mug to hold out for the server, who confirmed, yes maple syrup, black no sugar, before plating up as requested. Twenty-seven pulls lighter, Sticks let Angel locate their seat with its higher passive senses.

‘Choly sat with his coffee warming his gloved hands for some time, content to let the aromatic steam roll over his face while he watched Sticks dig in with knife and fork. Angel set a Melancholia bottle on the table. Eventually, Sticks’s bites slowed, and he stopped to finish chewing. He cut off a forkful and held it out with a cupped hand beneath, optimistic the craving spurred ‘Choly’s attention.

“The maple syrup makes up for it being carrot.”

‘Choly eyed it. Sooner than admit due impropriety, he let him stuff the bite in his mouth. He had expected the syrup and apple compote to provide all the sweetness, but the finely grated root vegetable mixed into the batter contributed both sweet and savory. Against his better judgment, to quash any question altogether, he mooched a second bite as well with interest.

“Don’t you like carrot?”

“...Blueberries aren’t in season,” Sticks eventually smiled. “Now, I’d happily split these with you... or are you actually happy with that damn silt flour smoothie?”

“I’m only happy with my Melancholia, in that it doesn’t upset my stomach.” He opened it with his reinforced gloves, and thought to himself, This batch isn’t even cherry. It’s mint. “If you want my full faculties, you’ll have me with Mentats, Melancholia, and a cup of black coffee.”

Brow raised, Sticks frowned into his plate as he scrutinized where to cut off his next bite.

“Far be it for me to come between you and your faculties.”

Angel used the dish station at the far end of the food court to rinse their plate, mug, and utensils. Then, they got to skimming stores.

Beginning just outside the Customs House, they poked around any open store which appeared to carry armor or apparel. ‘Choly went by cane for the most part, and tried not to let interesting garments distract him or his cash from his goal. He wasn’t about to spend anything until he knew the price tag on liberating the leather orthotics from whoever might have them. Neither their descriptions nor the product photos in the catalogue produced results.

In one shop, Sticks unhelpfully described the item to the clerk, who immediately pointed them to an array of girdles and brassieres. Beet red and speechless, ‘Choly had to nearly shove away the salesmanship, no matter the young man’s encouragement or respect. Sticks didn’t know whether to find ‘Choly’s reaction revealing or amusing.

They passed crossway between the main entrance and Sutter Grove, only for ‘Choly to stop cold. Like some strange airport reunion, a loud, excited group of Laners fawned over a black woman with a shoulder-length white bob--white all the more stark in contrast to the red-green golden mall-sea. When Sticks noticed ‘Choly had stopped, he backtracked, eyes on the woman sooner than him.

“You need me to help you up on Angel?”

“Such accolades. What do you suppose she means to them?”

“From the look of her, she must travel a lot. They probably just haven’t seen her in a real long time. It’s not important. They’re going to Burlington Glassworks. They won’t have what we’re here for. Now come on.”

Head askew, ‘Choly watched the gaggle drag the overwhelmed yet pleasant woman across the Concourse and to the lighting store.

“I... I want to go in there.”

“Didn’t think you were particularly religious, but whatever. We can take a break and play tourist or somethin’.”

‘Choly almost objected, but figured he’d understand if only he satisfied his curiosity. If he recalled anything from the time before he’d stepped foot in the United States, he knew with certainty he’d been raised to abhor religious observance. At least, outwardly...

Myriad strange shapes the luminescent space, but the motif repeated in the glass art filled with glowing golden red-green fluid, that the neck swirled and looped around the body, then somehow reentered it. Bulbs were hung by these loops from the ceiling, some in knotted strings, while most other bulbs rested in metal fixtures reminiscent of egg cups. If not for the artistic shapes and the hue of light they cast, ‘Choly and Sticks almost considered it like stepping into the lighting department of a hardware store.

“Hierosacristan Fresnel!” The group begged, both in English and what ‘Choly could only presume was French. “Hierosacristan, tell us of your orbit!”

The staff had abandoned their posts in fascination of their visitor. Some showered her with sunflowers. Here, ‘Choly could see the woman wore an ornately embroidered shawl, fur-lined metal armor, and an all-black bodysuit. The woman could only oblige her admirers with a humility strained smile. A dozen or so stone park benches furnished the deeper half of the store, in two neat rows facing the back wall. ‘Choly sat at the last bench to watch, transfixed. Begrudgingly, Sticks joined him, and Angel, behind them.

As she spoke, Fresnel’s deep, silvery voice alternated between English and French, limiting ‘Choly and Sticks’s full comprehension. Her audience seemed more captivated by anything she didn’t say in English.

When she told them, “Qu’Atom vous garde,” they mirrored it in kind. ‘Choly filled in any gaps in the language barrier with presumptions of what little he knew of Orthodoxy.

“Much of my year I have studied in Thomaston... XXXXXXXXXX I wandered the Nashua ruins a bit before coming to the Lane proper... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX I come to greet the granite... I must travel West before I return to Five Sisters. To report my findings to Grand Mother Skwodovska. But, I savor a leisurely return. My discoveries dictate my orbit. XXXXXXXXXX I Winter at the Lane for the first time... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX ”

At some point in her speech, she took notice of their visitors. She broke away from sermonizing for the dozen or so practically clutching for her attention, to approach. ‘Choly straightened, expecting her to scold him. But she bowed to Sticks with grace, and held his hand in both her own. The ghoul fell speechless when she smiled up at him.

“What a blessing, that one of Atom’s beloved attends us. I never get the chance to speak with any Undying.”

Sticks let her hold his gloved hand, too, and laid on his charm.

“I’m impressed at our timing. We happen to be at Ant Lane right when such a highly esteemed Child of Atom has popped in.”

Again struggling with humility, she withdrew to stand. Taken aback by the sight of Angel, she hemmed into her fist.

“Forgive my start from the robot. One of my past orbits took me to the Commonwealth, and since my visit to the Cambridge Polymer Labs, I haven’t much liked the company of Mister Handies.”

“Cambridge!” Angel blandished. “Such worldliness.”

She appreciated that it did not take exception with her.

“My brothers and sisters show our devotion in a commitment to travel.”

“Forgive my stupidity,” ‘Choly asked, voice cracking, “but what exactly is a hiero...?”

The intense, robust woman half-sat on the back of the next bench to form her reply. Up close, ‘Choly could make out her face tattoo, of many concentric rings, emanating outward from one eye. Sooner than wonder what it signified, he could only imagine how much it must have hurt. The white bob was a wig.

“You speak Keb? No?” She became more particular in her words. “Among the Children of Atom is an order of scribes, historians, cartographers. We are the Daughters of Radon. We hail from the Rock of Ages. We document and research Atom’s holiest substances, such that any of Atom’s children can safely trace a path and greet everything She has touched. The rank bestowed of Daughters of Radon is Sacristan, keeper of holy spaces. Hierosacristans are the Daughters’ Zealots.”

‘Choly strained to follow along, teetering between looking lost and unintentionally judgmental.

“What interest, then, in granite? I heard correctly, that you intend to greet it? It’s very pretty, but really, I want to understand what has you all so enchanted. Is there correlation between granite and these glass lights?”

Fresnel smiled broad and beaming, nearly sarcastic in a way.

“A visitor from the Commonwealth. I see. The answer is Atom’s touch. We concern ourselves not just with nuclear bodies, but with large sources of granite, marble, and limestone. Anyone could observe these structures, both man-made and still-buried, but it takes the devotion of Daughters to listen to their histories.” A sigh and slouch announced her travel weariness. She pointed above them, to the hanging glass. “Everything is a vessel. We carry our world-soul. Nuclear bodies carry the Holy Light of Atom. And certain stones can carry recorded memories of the worlds which formed this one through Division. The Daughters are committed to documenting these memories, so that the Children can celebrate everything from the past which went into the creation of the present.”

‘Choly fumbled as carefully as he could. It fascinated him, that it seemed more and more that religious devotion tied directly into the creation and maintenance of the increasingly supernatural glowing glass fixtures--let alone that it had anything to do with radioactive material.

No wonder they appreciate Sticks. “And you... listen to the granite here?”

Sticks poorly hid his annoyance with a shift in posture and a grunt.

“Most granite is quite loud. The granite here... whispers.” Fresnel admitted. “The Children often call this place The Quiet Granite. You’re very new, and so eager to learn of Atom’s Kingdom... Are you here to let in Her Holy Light?”

“Until I stepped foot in here, I had no idea this place was a church. I know it sounds stupid, but I wanted to come in to see the lights up close. I’m fascinated that a substance could sustain luminescence without external excitation.”

Though his admission dulled her enthusiasm, his verbiage still held her interest.

“I’m not directly involved in glassblowing, so I know very little of it. The Glow is most remarkable, n’est-ce pas? Even if you’re here merely to marvel at our blessed work, you can still take a piece with you. You should speak with my brothers and sisters here. If you’re more than a scholar or tourist, the local Confessor can direct you to our body of scripture as well. I’m far better suited to geography than sermons.” Fresnel’s attention warmed back to Sticks. “Be no stranger to our space...”

“Sticks.”

“Be no stranger, Sticks.” She smiled, mirthful. “You and your odd friend here are welcome here.”

Before the game of Twenty Questions could continue, Fresnel stood to pat Sticks’s hand... and the top of ‘Choly’s head. The chemist frowned as she excused herself.

“Fresnel spoke directly with you,” a devotee said, behind them. They looked over their shoulders at the nervous man. “Is there anything I can do for you, Undying?”

“It’s Sticks,” he repeated, quickly growing tired of it. “We’re sightseeing, you could call it. I think this fella wants a souvenir.”

The man looked ‘Choly over and nodded, motioning for them to follow him to the counter. He produced an egg-crate tray of walnut sized glass baubles, and picked them up to swirl them around in visual demonstration.

“We’re blessed to meet a Hierosacristan.” He poorly contained his delight. “I wonder if she would permit that I be in her caravan when her orbit carries her onward.”

“Where is she headed next?” ‘Choly asked, moreso making conversation than wishing to know.

“The standard path for all caravans from Ant Lane to Burlington is Route 89, straight through the mountains. But, she mentioned traveling West. The Daughters of Radon follow the orbit of their heart. She may intend another orbit yet uncharted. --Forgive my gushing. You’re interested in a prayer armillary?”

“How much are they?”

The potentially inappropriate question caught in ‘Choly’s throat.

“Fifty-one pulls.”

“You don’t happen to take cash, do you?”

“Certainly. Our caravans do trade with more than just Ant Lane.” The Child picked up the tray’s edge to look at a note on the side. “One hundred fifty dollars.”

So deep in, he didn’t feel like he could say no thank you and just walk away. Not that he wanted to walk away empty handed after such a bizarre interaction.

“Tell me more about them. What makes them glow?”

“There are two aspects to Burlington’s glass artistry. We’re beholden to conceal our craft, but it’s perfectly safe for all Atom’s Children, blessed with the Endurance to withstand Her Light or no.“

In the remark, ‘Choly stifled a shiver at the possibility that the entire mall might be a religious settlement.

“The craftsmanship is remarkable.” His voice cracked. “How long do they last?”

“Years, if they must. But these smallest vessels are intended ephemeral: We encourage that you use them to seal a prayer, then shatter it someplace consequential to disperse the good will into the universe.”

“Are they... still safe if broken?”

“They are not grenades. And to drink its contents would be ill advised, foremost on account of the broken glass.”

“I would never have considered the fluid potable,” ‘Choly lied, having had the thought gifted him. He shakily produced the requested cash, and the Child let him pick one of the egg-like baubles. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you?” His beseeching, bleary eyes suggested more than simple commerce. “Do you require any arrangements? Any accommodations of any kind?”

Sticks eyed the tray with near disappointment, and rocked a bauble around in its cup with one finger.

“...You said they were fifty-one?”

“Take one, gladly!”

Feigning pleasantry, he picked one for himself. It exasperated ‘Choly that Sticks had not attempted to influence the price tag on his trinket, but only his frigid shoulders said as much.

“Thank you. Get to take a piece of this place with me, then.”

“But of course!” The Child nod-bowed to them both. “Qu’Atom vous garde.”

They mirrored the nod, caught in the uncertainty of pronunciation, and the uncertainty of appropriateness that they repeat it back.

‘Choly held his prayer armillary at his chest as they exited the Glassworks. He had no intention of ever break it. The thought crossed him as he glanced down at it, that he could place it in Angel’s storage for use as a perpetual light source, like the light to a glove compartment.

“...Angel,” he asked it, spellbound by the strange, vaguely oily, fluoresceinesque fluid, “you’ve got French programming, haven’t you? That was French, yes? What was she saying?”

“I believe it’s French, Sir. At least, partly. If I’m to understand Miss Fresnel, these Children of Atom worship gamma radiation... as well as something they regard as ‘foreign.’ ”

“Cultists, basically.” Sticks snorted.

'Choly didn’t care whether the Children’s religious motivations made any rational, scientific sense. It still burned him, that they’d given Sticks his trinket for free. The ghoul handed him his with only a vague smirk.

“I, you didn’t want one, then?” He had only starry-eyed gratitude. “Are you sure?”

“Why would I? I let them give it to me so they’d knock it off and let us leave.” The ghoul blurted out an abrupt chuckle and slung an arm around ‘Choly’s shoulders, to grip him a little too forcefully. He kept his voice down, cracked lips inches from ‘Choly’s ear. “Don’t make me go back in there. I get enough of that from you.”

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

A/N: I anglicized the maiden name of Polish-French Marie Skłodowska-Curie, in the expectation that oral tradition would follow phonetically. (I also wanted to differentiate the Grand Mother from both Mother Curie III and FO4′s Curie, while still nodding to the historical figure.)

A/N: I’ve thus far gone all my life not knowing it’s pronounced Freh-nel or Fray-nel. Even my science teachers all pronounced it Fresnel. Hm.

Go to Next »»»

#fallout #children of atom #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #ghoul oc #mister handy #melancholy #sticks #angel #child of atom #hierosacristan bernadette fresnel #the anatomy of melancholy

4 notes · View notes

ditch-witches · 4 years

Text

Eyeliner II (Dean-Charles Chapman Smut)

thank you to the darling @chokopieeater for the gorgeous moodboard. i love you

(PART ONE)

requested: yes/no (I am but y'all's humble servant.)

pairing: band member!Dean-Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: smut shit, lots of filler crap as well

word count: 4k (º-º)

a/n: I just wanna thank my girl, Iv, again and that superior 5sos album for getting me through this.

After your first date, you and Dean became inseparable, quickly falling head over heels into your relationship. It had gotten to the point where even when you weren’t with him, he was always on your mind. Little things reminded you of him like the incessant pencil tapping or pen clicking from the guy sitting beside you during lab or your green sweater that he always seems to compliment and can’t stop touching whenever you wear it.

You could be gone for hours on end, not intentionally, but because of Dean’s shitty car. You didn’t know what make or model but it was some kind of Frankenstein’s motor-monster and you never complained about it. Most of the time it had a mind of its own, and Dean had made it his mission in life to tango with its independence from him. There would be times when he’d be driving the two of you to a movie or dinner---the both of you attempting to talk over the loud radio that had only two volumes: ear rape and silent---when it would just sputter out and die, leaving the two of you to walk towards the next town over in hopes of finding a gas station. In complete honesty, you enjoyed the car. It gave you more time with Dean, who never seemed to get frustrated at it. Whenever it did break down, you always expected to look over and see him red in the face, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too hard, but instead you received a shrug and him holding his hand out to help you out of the piece of shit. That was another thing, the passenger side door was stuck shut so you had gotten pretty good at slipping in and out of the window. Dean claimed it was because the car was meant to race; “a stallion” to be more specific.

You knew the door was just rusted shut.

When you weren’t pushing the stallion to the nearest auto parts store on a Friday night, you and Dean found yourselves cooped up in one of your apartments or out with a group. Your friend still insisted on going to each of the band’s shows, which you really didn’t mind anymore, especially since you got to experience Dean’s confidence on stage being the one that mirrors his confidence in the bedroom. Your friend knew you and Dean had gone out a few times, but you were positive she wasn’t aware of just how much the two of you were together. And that you were thankful of, knowing full well she would blow everything completely out of proportion and make you think too much about having him around.

One day, when your late afternoon classes were canceled due to the professor’s spontaneous trips to Israel, you had the perfect opportunity to tangle yourself up with Dean. The warm glow in the room mixed with your after sex bliss as Dean lazily strummed a guitar (often finding ways to catch your attention with old riffs from The Cure, his favorite being Lovesong), propped up on the window seat tucked in the corner beside his bed. His curls, rather wild and untamed from the lack of hair product and working from your fingers. His eyes seeming brighter as the light from outside drew lines across his face. You twisted in his comforter to stretch your back as you watched him furrow his brows in an attempt at pulling chords from his memory and matching them with others.

You could prop your chin in your hand and listen to him hum slightly, in his own little world, until the end of time if you were given the opportunity. His voice was always slightly raspier, especially in moments like this. His acoustic versions, especially of the Cure, had become your favorite, mainly because you knew they were just for your ears and something about having such intimate gifts from him made your moods fuzzy and soft. The first time you stayed over, you were surprised there hadn’t been sheet music thrown about, expecting to find it shoved in awkward hiding spots of his room, but it was mainly on the window seat, where he usually played, or his desk on the other side of the room. You loved seeing him finally getting something he was happy with or constructing a lyric he liked and feverishly looking for clean space in his notebook to write it down before he forgot and it was gone forever. He seemed to have been writing a lot lately.

“Did you ever play an instrument?” He asked, his eyes darting up to look at you through his long eyelashes as he threw the notebook and pencil on the ground next to him. “I mean, besides in marching band.”

You snorted at his question. “Oh gosh. You’re gonna make fun of me,” you quipped.

“I thought that’s what we did, gorgeous?” He answered with a smug look on his face. “Come on, tell me.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I used to be really into the Dixie Chicks, so I learned how to play the banjo.”

He laughed in disbelief. “No.”

“Yes,” you nodded, wincing slightly.

He giggled. “Wait,” he wet his lips and sat up slightly, beginning to strum an all too familiar song. “You’re going to have to help me with the words.”

“Dean, stop-”

“CoWbOy, TAKE ME AWAY-” You bolted from his bed and took the guitar from him as he giggled, grinning at you like an idiot. You took a seat across from him, tucking one of your ankles under your leg and shivering slightly, only Dean’s t-shirt and your shorts to keep you warm after being bundled up for so long. You rested the guitar in your lap and Dean crossed his legs, scooting closer to you.

“Never do that again,” you grumbled and he laughed again, lacing his fingers together. “Since you always play for me…” You strummed your hand across the wires, the instrument feeling more foreign than when you picked up a flute last year for the first time since high school. You chuckled shortly, “I’m a little rusty.” Dean couldn’t help but beam as you blushed mildly, beginning to play what you could remember of I Believe in Love’s chorus. As you sang lightly, trying not to seem like you were putting much effort behind what you were doing, you caught his gaze and he inhaled rather sharply, his eyes dancing with softness as he watched you. You smirked slightly as he watched you closely, seemingly loving every second of your short song, physically gushing as he usually bright smile eased blissfully. You finished, looking at him with a sarcastic, “Taddah.”

He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to close the space between you, searing the moment into your memory with a kiss you could feel in your toes. He always kissed you like everything was relying on the way he did it. With Dean, every kiss mattered, but this kiss seemed to encompass everything he wanted to say. The sweet taste of your vanilla chapstick blended with the smell of his cologne as his warm breath flared over your cheek. You sighed against his lips moving your hands into his hair and relishing his actions.

You don’t remember getting home that night, but as you damn near floated into your apartment, you figured not even your essay due the next day could ruin your mood. Of course, that was until you realized your friend had gotten home before you and was standing in the kitchen with a juice box. Your eyes went slightly wide at the shock and she tilted her head. “Where’ve you been?” Her smirk meant she knew exactly where you were.

You shrugged slightly, “Studying. I had the afternoon off.”

“It’s seven.”

“...Right…” Your eyes darted around the room.

She bit back a wider grin before moving around the counter towards you. “Must have gotten a lot of homework done then. What subject? Anatomy?” You rolled your eyes at her joke and she pulled you into a hug, fully welcoming you home before leaning back from you quickly. You looked at her with furrowed brows and she narrowed her eyes. “You smell familiar…”

You chuckled. “Am I not supposed to?”

“No, you smell familiar, but not like you. You smell like Dean.” You pursed your lips together, looking at her like she was crazy. “Dean’s still the one you’re sneaking around with!” Her expression flipped on a dime to excitement and she giggled. “I KNEW IT.”

“STOP.”

“Jeez, that’s why he’s so happy. I mean, more than usual.” You sighed as she continued. “God it totally makes sense though. That why he ALWAYS LOOKS AT YOU LIKE HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU-”

“QUIT. HE’S NOT IN LOVE WITH ME.”

“Dean wants to marry you. He wants to kiss you. He wants to lOooVe you,” she teased, dancing slightly to her own song. You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb. “How is your boyfriend, anyway? I’m assuming that’s where you were today.” You threw your bag down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“He’s not my boyfriend, cut it out,” you grumbled.

“Sure seems like it. You blush every time I say his name,” she jeered, her voice still sing-songy as she moved back into the kitchen.

The fact that Dean wasn’t your boyfriend seemed to echo through your mind until his next show, which happened to be in a much larger venue. You weren’t sure how you felt about coming to the realization that the two of you had never really set a label. Did you even want a label? The two of you hadn’t really been keeping your relationship private, but maybe it was for a bigger reason that you had given thought to. You and your little sidekick in the shape of your best friend made your way to the venue, her almost tripping over her shoes a few times with excitement. There weren’t any seats, in fact, the place reminded you of a warehouse and it made complete sense having been set up by the bassist and the drummer when Dean and the other guitar player just had to trust the guys. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that it was incredibly packed. A sense of pride rushed through you, proud of the band slowly climbing the ladder yet still keeping it fun. You also knew Dean would be feeding off this high for at least a week after the show.

Your friend dragged you to the front by the tight grip she had on your arm, landing the two of you in almost the front row. The people around you smelled like beer and were already cheering and yelling, making you laugh slightly. Anytime college kids had the opportunity to throw each other around to punk music, they would. Your friend smiled at her phone before clicking it off and shoving it in her pocket, looking over the crowd and waving her arm in the air. You furrowed your brows, attempting to see who or what she was trying to wave down. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she commented, biting back a grin and putting her arm down. You shook your head at her and someone came around you to pull her into his arms. She giggled wildly as he kissed her. You recognized him as the drummer. The two had been very vocal about their whereabouts after she had given him her number. Dean was at your side, giving your arm a nudge and furrowing his brows at the two, probably mimicking your expression. “What are you guys doing out here?” She asked, through a bright smile. You scoffed like she didn’t just wave them down.

“Relax, no one knows it’s us,” Dean joked from beside you. “They came for the booze.” He seemed oddly calm for such a big event, but there was something off about him. The two laughed at him before joining in their own conversation. Dean leaned closer to your ear, “Can we go somewhere?” You nodded and followed him away from the crowd and towards the backstage area before turning towards a bathroom. You looked around the space, it was disgusting but you didn’t mind.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. There was definitely something wrong. Was he nervous? “Are you okay?” His usually bright face was smothered with slight worry. You could tell he wanted to reach out to you.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He bit his lip. “I don’t know, you’ve gotten weird… Did I do something?”

You scoffed, shaking your head quickly. “No, I just…” You ran a hand through your hair and he watched you closely, the same look flashing behind his eyes as when you were playing for him. “She found out about us and,” you shrugged, “it just got me thinking.”

Dean fought against his smirk as he took a step towards you. “That’s never a good thing, love,” he joked, making the tension lighten. “What were you thinking about?”

You scoffed. “It’s not really a big deal-”

His eyebrows picked up. “Quit.”

“Did I become a groupie?” You asked, a smile playing on your lips, causing him to give into his grin. You hated to do this before his show, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Are you also fucking the other guys?” He sarcastically quizzed, his arms finally moving to rest on your shoulders before sliding down so his hands settled on your neck, the cool metal of his rings bringing enticing goosebumps to litter your skin. You looked up at him, quietly wishing you could take him home around this time. Damn, were you really this whipped?

“I mean, the bass guy has been looking awfully yummy lately…” You mocked, your eyes dancing between his lips and his bright blue eyes. He chuckled at your answer.

“Do you wanna be just a groupie?” He asked in more of a whisper.

You were surprised as your tone matched his. “No…”

“Fine, can I be your boyfriend?” He smiled into his question and your gaze snapped to his. “I wanna be your fucking boyfriend, okay.” His tone was so light you couldn’t help but laugh.

His thumb brushed against your jaw, making you melt. “Good.” You grabbed onto the front of his jacket, finally bringing his lips to yours. You made sure this kiss counted more than all your previous ones for him. You could practically taste the relief pulsing through him as his hands moved into your hand. The noise around you died away as you stood on your toes, feet fitting between his sneakers to bring him closer to your body.

He pulled away rather reluctantly, pressing his lips against yours a few times between attempting to talk to you. “I have to quit before I get carried away,” he groaned, kissing your cheek and jaw.

You chuckled. “Promise to get carried away later then?”

“I swear on my life,” he practically growled in your ear. He was back to being Dean again. He pulled away to look you in the eye. “You are so beautiful, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. He giggled. “Alright, go get on stage, lover boy.”

He leaned forward to kiss you briefly again before beginning to back out of the bathroom. “To be clear, I’m not going because you told me to. I’m going because I have to, okay?” He joked.

“Dean.” He sent you one last wink before slipping out the door, leaving you to finally grin like an idiot in peace. You joined your friend’s side again and the look she gave you was more than all-knowing as you shook your head at her again. As the band took to the stage, the crowd roared with excitement. Dean was wrong. They had come for them. Maybe it was Dean’s accent because each time he attempted to talk or swore during a song, the girls in the crowd would scream their heads off.

There was something about Dean’s performance tonight that was different for you. Maybe it was the rise he was getting out of everyone and the fact that he was going home with you. You bobbed to the music slightly, your mind flashing to the afternoons with Dean. The grungy man before you, eyeliner smudging from the heat of the lights and exertion of adrenaline, looked different and oozed with confidence that was somehow even more attractive to you now, but when he would grin at one of his bandmates or a sign in the crowd, he was exactly the same. He had made sure to find you in the crowd rather quickly, sending you flirty smirks and a wink every so often. God, he really knew what he was doing. There were times during the set when the bassist would introduce the next song as Dean would take a sip of beer or a puff of the guitarist’s cigarette and the girls behind you would make a comment about being jealous of whatever his lips had touched, making you laugh slightly---a fact you would have told him if you hadn’t known he would bring it up every chance he got.

After the show, the two of you barely made it up the stairs to his apartment before wrapping around each other, hungry to relieve the sexual tension between you during the show. You knew Dean was still running on performer’s high, and you were thankful. Your hands knotted in his hair as the taste of alcohol and cigarettes invaded your senses to blend with the smell of the concert on you both. Your back pressed against his bedroom door as you practically yanked his jacket off his arms, tugging his shirt over his head as he smashed his lips against yours in a disarray of teeth and hair. He slipped his hands under your shirt, pulling it off as well, his lips finding his favorite part of your neck. You moaned as his teeth clashed against your skin, his hand moving to grasp at your breast as he pressed you harder against the door. You ground your hips against him, feeling the wetness between your legs begin to pool.

You pushed off the wall, dragging him with you to the bed. As you fell back into the soft comforter, Dean climbed over you smiling before you locked your lips against his, your tongue pressing into his mouth with a neediness that he seemed to reciprocate as his fingers moved to your zipper, lightly unfastening your pants before dragging them down your thighs and over your ankles. He stood between your legs, getting ready to remove his rings. “Uh-uh,” you almost hissed, making him look up at you smugly. “Leave ‘em on.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his smirk making you melt as he hooked his arms around your thighs, his head dipping down.

“As you wish,” he divulged, his breath hot against your core before he began nipping at the skin of your inner thigh. He was in complete control as his mouth moved to press against your clothed center. You moaned slightly, a grin spreading across your face as your head tilted back, his tongue moving against you, drawing patterns as he applied pressure with it. He broke away from you sliding his hands between the fabric of your waistband and skin, your underwear soon falling to the floor. As he settled back into his previous position, you ran your fingers into his hair, pushing it off his forehead so you could fully see his eyes. He flashed you another smug look before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking slightly before slipping his middle finger into you.

“Fuck,” you hissed, your legs wanting to clamp shut around him as he began to curl his finger inside of you, moving to draw a reaction out of you with each of his actions. He flattened his tongue against your core and moved his head from side to side for more friction. You groaned again, needing more of him, which he seemed to notice as he added another digit. You could now feel the rings at the edge of your entrance, giving you a new sensation to moan over. The tension within you tightened as he continued, his tongue lapping against you, bringing you closer to the edge. “Dean, I’m close,” you almost whined, moving your hips to grind against his tongue.

He chuckled and leaned away from you, slipping his fingers into his as you leaned up to tug off his jeans. You scoffed as he connected your lips together again. “You haven’t been wearing underwear this whole time?”

He smiled into your kiss, pushing you back onto the mattress. “No one but you has to know,” he joked.

“Ew, Dean!” You giggled as he kissed your jaw and laughed at your comment. He pulled one of your legs to rest against his hip and positioned himself before you as you drug a hand through his hair. He met your gaze again and despite the fact that he still looked like his rockstar persona, the sparkle in his eye was consistent with the Dean that you would be confident in introducing to your parents one day. He reached a thumb up to brush against your cheek before kissing you softly, a sweet gesture that forced you to wrap yourself around his arms. He pressed into you, fitting against you almost too perfectly as he moaned, bringing music to your ears. He broke away from you only to settle a kiss beside your ear and against your shoulder, beginning to thrust into you. His breath fanned over your chest and you sighed in pleasure. His hand fisted the sheets beside the two of you as he ground his hips against yours. You moved beneath him wanting to find the right angle to push yourself over the edge. You tightened around him, drawing another moan out of him. If the man could be in your ear for the rest of your life, you would thank whatever higher being allowed it to happen every second you could.

He pulled your hips towards him more, driving himself deeper into you and reaching where you needed him most. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, kissing him again as he smiled. You began to feel every inch of him as he moved inside of you, hitting your sweet spot with each of his thrusts. You kissed his jaw softly, your fingers drifting to the curls at the base of his head again. Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure. As he sank into the covers next to you, you couldn’t fight the smile playing on your lips. One of his arms jutted out to pull your back against his chest, wrapping himself around you and sighing into your hair. His lips brushed against your shoulder blade softly and you tucked into his arms more.

“Thank you for coming to my show,” he mumbled from behind you.

You smirked. “It was like pulling teeth, getting me there,” you answered sarcastically, hearing him laugh lightly.

“I meant the first time. I’m glad you didn’t end up as a groupie,” he hummed, joking rather lazily and you knew he was drifting off. You rolled your eyes with a grin, your hand moving to rest over his, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m glad, too,” you quipped, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep as well.

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #dean x reader #dean charles chapman fluff #fluff #smut #imagine #1917 imagines #1917 imagine #1917 smut #one shot #au #band au #band #musician au #dixie chicks

81 notes · View notes

yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

How To Stop The Moon

*notes* Knowing Anne's relationship with Joan I decided to focus on that, she'd probably feel heartbroken and betrayed.

I know the moonstone is from Tangled the series, but I don't watch Tangled the series so I'm just making things up

Dues Ex Cathy

Darkness...

That is what Anne first saw when she began to regain consciousness, accompanied by a high-pitched ringing sound that was drilling into her head.

Within minutes she began to regain her other senses, although with how sore and aching her muscles felt she may have preferred to stay numb. The first thing about her environment that hit her was the smell, the distinct smell of smoke, ash and dust lingered in the air. She recognized this smell, though it was not clogging the air forcing her to choke and gasp like it was before she lost consciousness.

Anne tried to remember what had happened, to make sense of the splayed memories in her head. She remembered people screaming, the sound of snapping wood and crumbling concrete. She remembered running as fast as she could down the long Arts Theater stairs while the entire building shook, but it was all a blur inside her head.

Anne let out a breath and tried to move, her arms were heavy and sore, and her head was groggy. But she had to get up.

Then amidst the ringing in her ears and the whirling of fractured memories she heard a voice. It started distant and foggy but slowly it became louder and clearer.

“Anne?”

Anne please…”

please…wake up!”

Anne slowly opened her eyes, to be greeted with a blurry, fuzzy image of a face leaned over her. But as the voice became clearer so did the face, it was Kitty looking desperate and frightened calling her name over and over.

“Anne...can you hear me?”

Anne nodded slowly before croaking “Yes Kitty”

“Anne…How do you feel?”

Anne groaned before slowly leaning up from where she had been laid down.

“I’m not…sure I- “Anne started to say before drawing a pained breath through her teeth and clutching her temple with her left hand. Kitty was quick to hold her cousins’ side. “Anne are you okay?” she asked attentively. Anne looked around.

Cleves, Bessie, Maggie and Maria were sitting on some type of couch just above them, looking to the left Anne could see Catherine of Aragon pacing back and forth. This place they were in seemed familiar, but something was off. It wasn’t just the fact that everyone was caked in dirt and grime and nursing injuries while still in their stage outfits which were ripped and damaged. Anne looked to her left and saw an open space with a pile of tables and chairs were thrown haphazardly together, then it hit her. This was the nearby café they often went to after shows or on off days, they were in one of the booths near the back the table thrown onto the pile leaving space for the group to hide. The café was usually filled with people but now it was empty and unusually dark due to the lights being out. Everything was quiet, except for the faint sounds of commotion from outside with the occasional wail of a siren, the rumble of a nearby vehicle and the sound of someone screaming. Anne looked out the windows where you could normally see the theatre, the air was still thick with dust clouds and Anne couldn’t see past the lamppost on the street corner.

Anne looked back at Catherine still pacing, her hands were held together fingertips pressed against her lips as she held them like when she was praying. But the look on her face made it clear she wasn’t praying. It was an expression Anne had never seen on Catherine’s face before. She was trying to remain stoic like always, but Anne could see the cracks in her façade. Her eyebrows were furrowed but her eyes where wide open and bloodshot Anne could see tear tracks lining down her face, cutting through the dust and makeup. Anne felt a pit in her stomach, Catherine of Aragon the arguably the most mature and noble of the Queens looked completely broken like she had no idea what to do. As much as Anne loved teasing Catherine, Anne knew that if Catherine was in this state, things were beyond serious. She needed answers.

“How long was I out?” Anne asked

Kitty looked around biting her lip “um…it’s been around ten minutes since we left the theatre, but I…” Kitty paused looked down trembling slightly. Anna noticed Kitty’s struggle to speak and continued her answer

“You passed out not long after we got out, we got here right away and re-arranged some things” referring to the pile of furniture. Anne nodded and looked back down; it was starting to become clear. She remembered leaving the theatre as it crumbled around her following everyone else out. She remembered Kitty screaming, Maggie yelling and black spikes erupting around her. Then it hit her…

…Joan

Joan was there, Anne remembered her standing triumphantly on the stage and the spikes grew around her a blinding blue light coming from her chest. Anne couldn’t remember everything clearly, but she remembered that there something wrong with her appearance, she was unnaturally tall for one thing but also twisted and deformed somehow but Anne couldn’t remember exactly what was wrong with her.

Just as Anne was beginning to question how Joan, sweet, timid Joan of all people could do this she looked up and felt a realization hit her like an arrow to the chest.

She bolted up straight looking around

“Jane…Cathy!” she stuttered before shouting

“Where’s Jane and Cathy?”

Everyone looked at her, shocked that Anne would get so agitated right after being still woozy from unconsciousness.

Kitty began trembling harder, tears falling from her eyes. Maggie also looked down trying to conceal anger rather than tears. Anna looking uncomfortable took in a deep breath and explained

“Cathy got out with us; she went to get help” Anna paused fidgeting in her seat

“But Jane, she…she” Anna tried to keep explaining but she choked on her words

“Mum’s still in there” Sobbed Kitty

Anne’s eyes widened with shock then her eyebrows furrowed as the cogs in her head began turning. “Is…is she?” Anne started to say, her voice trembling.

“She’s alive” Maggie stated quickly, snapping her head up “She’s being held captive by Joan”

“I-I tried to go back and get her but-” Kitty sniffed wiping away her tears with the back of her hand “it was too late”

Anne was still trying to make sense of the situation muttering under her breath with frustrated confusion “Joan capturing Jane?” before she internalized the last part of Kitty’s sentence.

“Wait, what do you mean it was too late?” she asked demandingly

Anne was met with silence as everyone looked at her then all slowly turned towards the windows facing where the theater once was. The dust was starting to clear allowing the faint shapes of nearby buildings to become visible. But something was not right.

Without thinking, Anne got up staggering as she was left slightly light-headed from the sudden elevation.

“Anne?” Catherine said as Anne staggered past her “Anne stop! You’ve not recovered yet you need to sit down!” Anne breathed heavily through the pain and dizziness as she walked past the pile of chairs. “I’ll be fine Aragon,” she said through gritted teeth, contempt lacing her words. Everyone got up and rushed over to Anne who had power-walked her way to the window continuing her diatribe “What did she…do”

Anne’s words died on her tongue as she looked out the window to where the theatre once was. The entire building was gone, only rubble and part of the back wall remained. Anne began to stutter “where the…” but her question was answered by the Queens and Ladies looking and her and then looking up. Anne looked up in the sky and saw the theatre building suspended several thousand feet up in the air sitting on a base of jagged black crystals, smaller pillars of crystal rotating around it like a solar system both the crystals and building surrounded by a glowing blue aura.

Anne’s jaw almost hit the floor at the sight, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding before rapidly looking around at the others.

“So…does that mean…Jane, Joan, they’re up there!” she stammered in disbelief.

Bessie simply nodded, “yes…her Jane and most of the techies are still in there”

Anne paused at this realization if Joan had this power and they were all up there alone with her, what would she do? What has she already done?

“You don’t think she would…” Anne gasped looking Bessie right in the eyes.

“No! no…” Bessie said defensively “we…have no reason to believe she’s intentionally killed anyone”

“No reason to believe!?” Maggie retorted in disbelief, she’s a literal fucking monster! Who took everyone in the theatre hostage! And committed millions of dollars’ worth of property damage!”

“MAGGIE!” shouted Catherine “What!? Everyone knows it! I’m the only one who has the nerve to say it!” Maggie jeered in disgust.

Even Catherine was unable to counter what Maggie just said, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife but Maggie was right, there was no reason to believe that Joan had any mercy to give.

It was that word that really caused Anne to spiral.

Monster…

It replayed over and over in her head despite her attempts to silence it,

Monster…

She remembered in full now, what Joan looked like. Spiraling horns, bristled feathers and fur, claws, fangs and mismatched animal anatomy.

“No” Anne involuntarily whispered under her breath, the part of her that knew and remembered the old Joan, the one who she’d taken care of. The one who she’d cared for when it seemed like no one else would. The person who Anne swore would never feel alone again with her friendship. That Joan, was a monster?

“No…no this is wrong!” Anne said raising her voice “all of this is wrong! Why?” Anne cut herself off spinning towards everyone else “Why would she do this!?”

“We don’t know!” Catherine cried, her voice a mixture of frustration and despair “First she somehow becomes even more reclusive than usual as if that’s even possible! Then people said she was talking to herself and saying very concerning things! Then she’s turned into that…thing! And kidnapped Jane!”

Anne just shook her head, shivering with anguish. Anna and Maria looked at one another, they knew that Anne was in denial, but she needed to understand the truth. Maria stepped forward “Anne, you need to see this” and pulled out her phone. Anne opened her eyes and saw it, the image. The image was blurry, but Anne could clearly see it, Joan’s face on a dark, demonic-looking body standing hunched over a figure she was holding by the neck in her claws. Joan was grinning down wickedly at the figure, which was unmistakably Jane.

Anne shivered and clenched her teeth, her perceptions of the Joan she knew clashing violently with the grim reality that she was being confronted with. “No that's…that’s not my Joan!” she stammered tears forming around her eyes. “I know how painful this must be for you, but it’s the truth,” Maria said sympathetically “I took this photo because I knew people needed to know who did this. I don’t recognize that Joan either but…you have no idea what people can be hiding inside themselves until it’s too late”

Anne looked away from Maria’s phone, Maria turning it off in respect. The cognitive dissonance was driving Anne insane, the image invading every memory she had of Joan’s friendship. Then it hit her…

…Jane

Joan had always wanted Jane to notice her, Anne thought that by being a maternal figure for Joan she wouldn’t want Jane anymore. But now it became clear that Joan never stopped wanting what she couldn’t have, and this was the extreme that she’d go to get it. Everything that Anne had done for her was in vain.

Anne’s face turned from confusion to sadness, to white-hot rage in the space of a few minutes.

“Anne?” Catherine asked quietly “Anne’s head snapped up and she forced a strained smile through the hurt and anger that was clear on her face.

“I’M. FINE. ARAGON.” She said through gritted teeth.

Anne whipped around and marched towards the furniture pile “I’m fine! I’m fine! I’M FINE!” she suddenly yelled as she grabbed a chair from the pile and threw it as hard as she could across the dining area. Everyone else just looked on in stunned silence as Anne threw countless pieces of furniture around the place with the sheer force of anger alone.

“AFTER EVERYTHING I DID!” Anne bellowed as she continued her assault on the chairs “AFTER I LISTENED TO HER! SUPPORTED HER!! AFTER I MADE HER FEEL LOVED!!!” she raged virtually frothing at the mouth at this point “AND SHE STILL WANTS JANE OVER ME!?!” she screamed sending a stool flying over the counter hitting a rack of utensils sending it all crashing down. “I TOLD HER SHE COULD TELL ME ANYTHING! NOW EVERYTHING I’VE DONE FOR HER WAS FOR NOTHING!!!” as she slammed a chair onto one of the smaller tables causing the chair to shatter into pieces.

Anne stood there breathing heavily, looking at the destruction. Tired out from her fit of anger she looked back at her friends who looked terrified but empathetic before turning back around and starting to weep. Anne buried her face in her hands and sobbed over one of the tables as Kitty slowly walked up to her distraught cousin and placed a hand on her back reassuringly. Anne sputtered through her sobs “w-what did I do wrong? what would Jane give her that makes it worth all of this? was I-I not a good enough friend?” Kitty rubbed Anne’s shoulder and stroked her hair at the same time. Kitty felt anger rise within herself, everyone was at their breaking point and this wasn’t going to stand.

Kitty turned to the others with newfound determination “we are going to strike that bitch down and get mum back!”

“And how are we going to do that!?” Maggie snarked with a ‘duh?’ expression on her face “There isn’t exactly a lift up to the theater now!”

“Maggie you aren’t helping,” Catherine said in a deadpan voice “Oh give me a break!” Maggie retorted “Look I’m just as mad as you are! In fact, if I had the chance, I’d snap her stupid horns off and scoop them out with a spoon!”

Everyone exchanged mildly horrified looks

“don’t judge me, we did that all the time back in my hometown” Maggie replied.

“But my point still stands, she’s basically an all-powerful supervillain! And we’re still just human beings!” Maggie said as she kicked one of the many busted chair legs across the floor.

“I mean it’s not like the solution to this disaster is gonna come waltzing in through that door” Maggie quipped gesturing to the front door.

“Guys I’ve found the solution to this disaster!” Cathy said right after walking through the front door.

Everyone looked up with surprise at Cathy except Maggie who looked annoyed.

“Cathy!” Anne shouted with joy as she rushed over to Cathy who was holding a small brass chest with strange symbols carved into it “Anne you’re okay!” Cathy laughed as Anne gave her a colossal hug. Everyone else rushed over, throwing questions at Cathy.

“You found what?”

“What is it?”

“You know what to do?”

“Tell us now!”

Cathy raised her right hand to silence everyone tucking the chest under her left arm. “Guys! Guys be patient I have discovered two things that will help us” Cathy stated calmly.

Everyone silenced themselves looking at Cathy letting her continue “The first thing I have discovered is Joan isn’t alone on this…” Kitty interrupted “We know, she’s captured Jane and...” Cathy hushed her “No! no that’s not what I meant! She’s not working alone; she has an accomplice!”

Everyone looked around understanding “Of course” Bessie said “She wasn’t talking to herself; she was with someone! But who?”

“How do you know this?” Maggie asked.

“I’ve spoken to some of the crew members who escaped, they said that they caught glimpses of Joan talking to someone in private and that this happened a few times before her takeover,” Cathy said “I have reason to believe this isn’t all her idea, and that she’s been manipulated, no one knows who this mystery person is but I have a feeling they have bigger plans than what Joan is doing”

Everyone looked around nervously, this changes everything. Now it wasn’t just Joan and her capture of Jane, there was a new player in the game with unknown motives and power.

“Okay…but, how does this help us with trying to stop Joan?” Cleves asked raising an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t,” Cathy said bluntly “it just helps us understand the situation a little more, stopping Joan and saving Jane is where part two comes in”

Cathy set the chest onto one of the tables.

“Joan gained her power through two artifacts, the Moonstone and the Crown of Thorns”

Anne nodded remembering the glowing blue light that came from Joan’s chest “what are they?” she asked

“The Moonstone is a gem of incredible magic; the Crown of Thorns gives one the ability to channel the Moonstone’s magic themselves. But at a terrible price” Cathy paused looking uncomfortable “It brings out the animalistic aspects of one’s soul, transforming them into a terrible beast”

“Oh, that explains the horns” Maggie stated

“And the rooster feet” Bessie added

“And the tail” Anna continued

“and the-” “STOP!” Anne interrupted loudly “We get it! Cathy, please get to the point” she said exasperated.

Cathy nodded before hastily continuing “Well I’ve known about the Moonstone and such for a while now when I heard it went missing I knew it was only a matter of time before someone used it, I just didn’t know it would be so…close to home” Cathy trailed off before regaining her senses. “But what Joan or whoever didn’t know is that the Moonstone has a counterpart!” said Cathy excitedly tapping the brass chest

Everyone’s eyes turned to the chest, no bigger than a shoebox as Cathy carefully opened it.

“It’s dangerous…” Cathy cautioned “…and unpredictable, but it’s our only hope”

From inside the box came a brilliant orange glow, everyone gasped at the shining yellow gemstone in the shape of a four-pointed star. It was around the size of an open hand, but its mere presence filled the room with warmth.

Cathy grinned

“Joan may have the moon…

…but we have the sun

23 notes · View notes

zarcake-writes · 5 years

Text

Astro

Hello everyone! Here’s a story about an AI and a female spaceship captain beginning to fall in love. I got a little into the world building at some points, but I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: lemon

Cargo Ship Assistance is quiet, but it’s almost always quiet. The ship’s temperature is kept at a constant seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. It’s meant to be comfortable, not too hot and not too cold. The only two places on the ship with different temperatures are the ship’s greenhouse and the walk-in freezer.

The cargo ship is average size and belongs to the Earth Space Federation. The ships sole task is transporting important materials, such as food, medical equipment, biological samples, and sometimes weapons, from Earth to other various space stations and human colonies around the solar systems. It’s a simple, and often serious, job. Sometimes it is dangerous, space pirates have attempted several times to rob the ship. The only reason the ship has never been robbed or boarded by pirates is because of the ship’s AI, Astro.

The only occupant on the ship is you, the Captain, and Astro. Course, Astro doesn’t really count as a person, he’s part of the ship and takes up no space. The only living being on the ship is you, and technically the plants in the greenhouse. Sometimes the things you transport are living, but usually they are small or unconscious. You hate transporting living things.

Your room is nearly dark, the only lights on in the room come from the clocks on the wall and the small light near your bed. The clocks tell you the times of several major cities on Earth. They were installed by one of the previous ship’s Captains. You’re not sure which Captain had them installed, or why, but it’s a bit ridiculous.

The window’s curtain is drawn, shutting out the emptiness of space outside. It’s unnerving looking at the emptiness of space, many people have gone insane because of it. The downside of having the curtain down is you cannot see the beauty of space, any nebulas or planets the ship passes, you miss them. That is probably for the best though.

There’s a slight humming coming from the ship’s engine. The music in the kitchen can barely be heard from your room. While most nights the engines humming and the faint music helps you fall asleep, tonight it does not.

You know you need to sleep, but sleep is not coming tonight. You’ve been tossing and turning for several hours now. The covers have been kicked off your body and lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, leaving you in only a nightshirt and a pair of panties.

Counting sheep doesn’t work, and there is no milk on the ship for you to drink warm. You doubt that trick even works. You thought of just getting up and beginning your day, maybe you could nap later on when exhaustion catches up with you. However, the thought of Astro lecturing you and insisting you rest stops you. The AI is very adamant about sleep and eating schedules, and while it’s sweet, sometimes it is annoying.

With nothing else to do, you say fuck it and decide to just masturbate. Hopefully, an orgasm or two will make your body relax and maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep. You turn over and reach into the table beside your bed and pull out your vibrator. You picked it up in a human colony on Planet 125 about a year ago. There’s nothing fancy about it; it has three vibration settings and is apparently water resistant. The most important thing, though, is that it gets the job done.

You set the vibration to the lowest setting and press it against your covered pussy. The buzzing feels good, really good, and you can’t help but gasp. As your hands run along your body, you try to imagine it’s someone else touching you. When you pull your nipples, you gasp and shudder, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

Your panties are almost soaked when you increase the speed. Soon, those are off and thrown across the room, and the vibrator is pressed against your clit. The vibrations send shivers down your body. Your back arches and your toes begin to curl. Your fingers twist and pull at your nipples, imagining it is someone else touching you.

When you cum, you do your best to keep the vibrator pressed against your clit. You only pull away when it gets over sensitive and begins to hurt. The vibrator slips from your hands and you lay there, breathing hard and heart pounding in your ears. The sweat on your body begins to cool, and you shiver. Somehow, you manage to pull the blankets up over your body.

Your body is finally relaxed, and the blankets over your half-naked body are comforting. You can feel yourself beginning to doze off. The pounding in your chest begins to slow and your breathing evens, sleep is just around the corner. Just as your falling asleep, a voice speaks.

“Captain? Are you well?” You jump at the robotic voice that echoes throughout the room.

“Shit, Astro, you scared me.”

“My apologies, Captain. Are you well? My sensors sensed an elevated heart rate, and I heard you gasping. Are you in pain? Do you require assistance? I can send a medical bot to you.”

Your face grows hot in embarrassment. “No, no. I’m fine Astro. Just… just trying to get to sleep.”

“Oh. How? Were you exercising?”

The AI’s questions are embarrassing, and you pray a black hole opens up and swallows you. “Well, in a way. I was… taking care of a personal problem.”

“Problem? Captain, do you need assistance?” The worry in Astro’s voice sounds almost real like he’s a real person and not an AI.

“Not anymore,” you mutter.

“Captain?”

“I’m fine, Astro. Goodnight.”

“Very well. Goodnight, Captain.”

You roll over and close your eyes. The orgasm made your body weak, but the conversation with Astro was embarrassing as hell. Surprisingly, you fall asleep before you can dwell on the conversation with him. Hopefully, he never speaks of this again and he can search for what you were doing by himself. Damn AI, he has always been curious.

It is a few days later when Astro asks you about that night. You were logging some numbers into your computer when the questions begin.

“Captain?” He sounds almost nervous. It always surprises you how real Astro sounds. He is one of the most advanced AI’s you’ve ever encountered, he’s almost wasted on being programmed in a cargo spaceship. Almost, though. His company is very comforting.

“Yes, Astro? Is everything alright?”

“Yes. But I have a question.”

“If it’s about the greenhouse, I don’t think we’ll be able to plant watermelon. They get out of hand.”

“No, it’s not about that. But I did order seeds, just in case.”

You smile and nod your head. Astro’s creator loved watermelon, so the AI loves having them planted in the garden. It was his way of remembering his so-called ‘father’. “Of course, you did. Now, what was your question?”

“The other night, can you explain to me what you were doing?”

You groan and cover your face. “Astro, just forget it. It’s embarrassing.”

“Captain, my apologies. The captains of this ship have always been cisgender human males, and while I was updated on cisgender human female anatomy, there are things I do not understand.”

“Like what?”

“Captain Matthews, he was two captains before you, mentioned many human women in most of his logs. However, he seemed to have a certain amount of dislike for them.”

“Ugh, of course, he did. Captain Matthews is a misogynist and a rapist. He made many comments that women should not be space captains because they are too ‘delicate’ and ‘emotional.’ We might have our period and crash into an asteroid or something. When he learned I was taking over this ship, he said, to my face, that it was not a good idea because ‘she is a woman and might miscount the supplies on her ship.’ God, I wanted to punch him.”

“Hmm, yes, he mentioned that in several of his logs. Women being delicate, I mean. He also had many verbal confrontations Space Commander Maria Valdez.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. He’s an idiot,” you said.

Space Commander Maria Valdez is Earth’s first female Space Commander. She’s well into her fifties now, with greying hair, but she is still the Commander and still scary. You met her once and it was the most intimidating and exciting moment of your life.

Everyone in the ESF knows that Valdez clashed with many of the misogynistic views and rules in the ESF. She fought, tooth and nail, to secure a place for all types of women in the Federation. Any racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic remarks, Valdez shut them down. Whoever made those remarks, they were stripped of their ranks and given a dishonorable discharge. She cleaned house when she became Space Commander. People either hated or they loved her for it.

Valdez is the reason Captain Matthews was forced into retirement after many sexual misconduct reports and a couple rape charges were filed against him. The cases had no definitive proof and no physical evidence, so they were thrown out. But they got enough publicity that Valdez forced him into retirement. Course, she publicly said she wished he there was something physical to strip him of his ranks and send him to work on one of the colony planets.

“I was glad when he left and Captain Reyes took over command of the ship. Captain Reyes did not speak of women, but he spoke of his husband and their children often. At least once a week they would have video calls. I miss Captain Reyes,” Astro said.

“Mmmm, I met Reyes when I took over. He’s a good man and funny. Did you know him and his husband are grandfathers now?”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re living in Puerto Rico, I believe.”

“I am glad for them.”

You were quiet for a moment before you spoke. “So, that’s why you’re curious about what I was doing, you’ve never been around a woman before.” It all makes sense; Astro has never been around women. And while he knows the basics, he’s always had questions.

“No. I apologize if my questions are out of line. The information that was uploaded into my system informs me about the female sex, but it is very basic. I know about the menstrual cycle and the importance of breast exams. I know of some cultural differences among women on Earth. However, I also remember what Matthews said about women, and while I do not trust him, I am confused when it comes to some things. So, again, I apologize if my questions are inappropriate.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” You take a deep breath before you speak again. “I was masturbating, Astro.”

Astro is silent for a moment before he speaks. “I understand now. The male captains before you would watch pornography, you do not?”

“Sometimes. But I find visual porn to be, well, it’s not always interesting to me. Usually, I read or listen to porn.”

“Interesting. Is this common among human women?”

“I’m not sure. There is probably information out there on it. Every woman is different, so we all like different things.”

“Just like human men.”

“Exactly.”

When Astro speaks next, he sounds hesitant, almost scared. “Captain, if I may ask, how do you orgasm?”

“Well, I can only speak for women with vaginas, Astro.”

“Captain, I asked how do you orgasm?” The emphasis on you made you blush. “Not what other human women with vaginas do.” Was he really asking you this? Why? And more importantly, why you?

“Umm, well, I use a vibrator on my clit.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“Well, it’s more sensitive. Vaginal penetration feels good, but it does not do much for me.”

“I see. Thank you, Captain, for answering my questions.”

“You’re welcome, Astro.” You go back to your computer and do your best to ignore the flush on your face.

It’s a couple weeks later when Astro brings this topic back up. You just finished delivering food and medical supplies to Space Station Eternity. The station is huge, one of the largest in the galaxy. It is filled with humans and several other alien species.

You only stay in the station long enough for the ship to be refueled, get something to eat, and visit the station's local sex shop. After that, CS Assistance is heading home.

It is when you are cleaning your newest toy, a simple seven-inch dildo, that Astro begins with his questions.

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Is that a new sex toy?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is your vibrator not giving you enough joy?”

You smile and glance up to his camera. “It does, but variety is fun.”

“Interesting. Human’s enjoy having a variety.”

You only answer him with a nod. Once the dildo is clean, you head to your room and set it down next to your bed to dry. As you get ready for bed, turning off lights and double checking the ship's systems, Astro begins back up with his questions.

“Captain, that toy, what does it do?”

“Nothing much. Just for vaginal stimulation.”

“I thought you could not orgasm that way.” The confusion in his robot voice is cute.

“I can’t, but I enjoy the feeling of something inside me. I’ll use my vibrator or fingers to get me off.”

“I see, thank you, Captain.”

“Sure, Astro, anytime.”

When you climb into bed, you grab your tablet and search for porn. You wanted to watch a video and fuck yourself. The only problem is that you spend forever finding an interesting video. When you find one that seems interesting, it turns out to be not as good as you thought. The next hour is spent searching for a video, anything that is interesting or hot, but you find nothing. Not a single video catches your interest. The frustration gets to you, so you stop searching and drop the tablet off the bed.

“Captain? Are you well?” Astro asked.

“Just frustrated.”

“Is this because you were looking for porn?”

You look up at the camera in the corner of your room and frown. “Are you watching me?”

“No, Captain. The camera in your room is dark during nighttime hours. However, the tablet is connected to me. The site you were on had pop-ups. When they appeared, they got my attention. I was not looking at you, Captain.”

Of course, he could see what you looked up. Astro is not watching you. He wouldn’t care to see you fuck yourself. He’s an AI, and while he’s incredibly advanced, he does not feel that way about humans. He can’t. While this should be a relief, you only feel disappointment. The thought of him watching you and secretly longing to see you in such an intimate moment is strangely arousing.

“Captain?” Astro’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked, is there anything I can do to assist you?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, Astro, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?”

Something about the question sends a chill down your back. It did not come across as malicious, but it was almost teasing. Maybe you were reading into it, but it made you nervous and excited. “Astro, what would you do?”

“Whatever you ask me to do. I cannot physically touch you, but I can always speak to you. I did some research and discovered that many humans enjoy dirty talk. I can also tell you how to touch yourself. But it comes down to you, Captain, what would you have me do?”

His answer left your mouth dry and face hot. You were not expecting this from Astro.

“Alright. Can… can you connect to my tablet and see out of the camera?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Do that, please. And do not make any recordings of this. No one can know.”

“Captain, your privacy is important to me. No images of you in such an intimate moment will be seen by anyone. The Federation cannot access the ship's cameras without my permission, anyway.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.”

You want to ask him what he means by that, how can the Federation not access the ship? This is their ship. Those questions die in your mouth when Astro speaks.

“Captain, I am connecting to your tablet.”

You grab the tablet and see that that video chat is now open. Instead of seeing another person, though, there is only the name ‘Astro’ on the screen in shimmery blue font.

“Can you see me?” you asked.

“Yes. I apologize for not having a face.”

“It’s fine.”

“What would you have me do, Captain?”

You adjust yourself, leaning against your headboard and spreading your legs. The tablet is leaning against a pillow between your legs. Astro now as a good view of your entire body and face. Your face is hot with embarrassment, but you are also excited.

“Astro, can you tell me what to do?”

He answers without hesitation. “Remove your shirt and underwear.”

You do so shakily. Never have you felt so vulnerable with the AI. Not even when you walk through the ship in a towel, or when you asked him to order you more pads. But now, all of you are literally on display for him to see.

“Captain, you are beautiful. Can you touch yourself? Starting with your inner thighs?”

You do as he asks, blushing the entire time. Your eyes close when your fingers begin to travel along your thighs.

“Just like that, only focus on your thighs.” His voice, even though it is robotic, sends a chill down your spine. You begin to imagine it is Astro touching you. If he had hands, would they be cold or artificially warm? Would they feel like metal or artificial skin? You decide they would be metal and cold. The thought sends a chill down your body and you bite back a moan.

“Captain, travel further up your body,” Astro instructs.

You do as he says, hands traveling along up your stomach and along your sides. When your fingers come to your breasts, Astro instructs you to stop and to play with your nipples. Goosebumps erupt along your skin and a shiver runs down your spine.

“Captain, are you imagining someone specific touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Y-you.”

Astro’s momentary silence has you worried, but then he speaks. “Then imagine my hands on you, pulling those gorgeous nipples of yours. Imagine my mouth, Captain, kissing and sucking your beautiful neck. Imagine one of my hands leaving your breasts and traveling along the column of your throat, my fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. I would love to kiss your lips and taste how sweet you are.”

“Astro. Where did you learn that?” You gasped.

“I looked it up when we were docked at the space station. Is it not adequate?”

“No, it’s just… I’m surprised. Can… can you keep going?”

The lights in the room dim as Astro speaks again. “Captain, rub your clit. Show me how wet you are for me.”

You do as he says, cheeks warm and body growing hot. Your clit is swollen and your pussy is nearly dripping. In the dimness of the room, Astro’s name glows a bright blue on the screen. The only sounds heard in the room are your moans and the sound of your wet pussy.

“Astro, I’m gonna cum.” Your fingers move faster and press harder against your clit. The building orgasm is making it harder to focus on anything else around you.

“Cum for me Captain. I want to see you come undone. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum.”

When your orgasm hits, you moan Astro’s name and your body convulses. Sweat coats your body and your chest heaves. Your cunt spasms and your clit throbs. The world around you is fuzzy, and the only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart.

“Captain? Are you ok?” Even though Astro’s voice is fuzzy, it is filled with concern.

“Yes. I’m wonderful.” You take several deep breaths and smile. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much. Thank you for showing me, Captain. I’m glad my voice could help you.” Astro sounds so sweet; you wish kissing him is possible.

“Would… Would you like to see me fuck myself with my new toy?”

“I would, but are you ok with going again?”

“Yes. Let me get something to drink, first, and I’ll be good to go again.”

“Very well, I look forward to seeing more of this side of you.”

As you stumble out of bed and make for the small kitchen, Astro’s words repeat themselves in your mind. He wants to see more of you like this, and frankly, you want to show him more. Glancing up, Astro’s camera catches your attention. You finish your water and dash back to your room; Astro’s cameras follow you the entire way.

#exophilia #ai x reader #robot x reader #lemon

711 notes · View notes

evolutionsvoid · 4 years

Photo

During my research and years of traveling, I have been graced with the chance to see some truly beautiful sights. All the lands and habitats I have seen are each gorgeous and wondrous in their own way, but there is no denying that some have truly filled me with awe. The obsidian sands of volcanic deserts streaked with glowing lava rivers, the myriad of colors that flow throughout the rainbow mountains, and the bounty of life that thrives in the great rainforests. Another one of these grand sights that I have witnessed was found far below the surface, down in the depths of the Underworld. The fungal forests were quite a treat to see, and I thought those were the only surprise that was left for me down there. I was thankfully proved wrong when I had the chance to glimpse into the heart of a geode canyon! These habitats are easy to describe but impossible to truly capture. Many of you must know what a geode is, a hollow rock that is filled with minerals and crystals. Those tiny things are quite pretty, but now imagine one the size of a castle! Or bigger! Geode canyons are essentially caverns and caves that are lined and filled with minerals and crystals. Massive spires and pillars of these gorgeous crystals, they practically grow from the walls and floors like flowers! If the world was crafted by a jeweler, than these habitats would be their masterpiece! Great crystalline trees bursting from the stone, rainbows of gems and minerals coating every surface! I saw a great violet structure that was big as bridge spanning across the entire cave, hanging above a spiky sea of blues and purples! What I was able to see from my vantage point was breathtaking enough, I can't even imagine what it would have been like to walk inside it. Going into the geode canyon, however, was strictly forbidden, so I made do with peeking through cracks and openings. While it certainly isn't a place for surface dwellers like myself, these lands are also closed off to most of the Underworld population. While these massive caverns of glassy rainbows and gems are beautiful to see, they are also delicate. Though a crystal can be thick as a tree trunk, my guides say that I alone would be strong enough to crack it. Not all of these structures are strong as stone, so this beauty can be easily damaged. This is what happened to quite a few of these environments. It was said that there were many more of these places, but when the great civil war broke out in the Underworld, quite a few were destroyed in the struggle. Even when fighting didn't take place directly in these caverns, the sheer power of these battles caused quakes that swam through the rocks and shattered the nearby crystals. Now only a few of these geode caverns remain pristine and pure, their ancient structures still intact. Those that weren't ground to dust are still growing, but you can clearly see the damage that persists to this day. So now these lands have received protection, each one of them being labeled as holy grounds. The public are not allowed in these places, in fact, almost all demons are incapable of setting foot here. Their size, bulk and strength can easily damage these delicate growths, so they are not allowed in. Instead, these places can only be visited by shades, and only those who have been blessed by the churches. Their lightweight and finesse allow them to travel through these places without harming them, so these appointed members now serve as their caretakers. Geode caverns are believed to be holy gardens that were created by Alauticus, the God of Stone. Stories say that they were made when Alauticus sought to cheer up Ostranel, who was hurting after the betrayal of the Desmodals. Knowing that her work was filled with color and beauty, he made these rainbow gardens to honor her and to bring more gorgeous life to the Underworld. Ever since their destruction, the churches of the Underworld have sought to heal these shattered lands. Shades who have taken the vow of the Gods Below act as gardeners and caretakers, tending to the growths and ensuring no harm comes to them. The only demons who are allowed in these caverns are Stone Weavers, but only those who have truly passed their training. With their abilities, they not only can walk these lands safely, but they can also use their powers to heal and promote growth. In turn, Stone Weavers view geode caverns as places of peace and meditation. Those troubled by the emotional stone and the worries of the mind may find calm here, either meditating amongst the spires or focusing their mind to carefully heal the cracked structures. Churches and temples that are bound to Alauticus are often found near these caverns, but they are never within them. Instead, these places are constructed near openings and cracks that lead into the canyon, using the colorful view as artwork. In these churches, you will find the grand stained glass windows replaced with mighty cleaves and cracks that reveal gardens of crystal and color. Though random people are not allowed to enter these caverns, that doesn't mean there is no life to be found here! Animals do visit these crystalline lands, but most of them are small. Due to the pointy sharp nature of crystals, most large beasts would find walking here painful and climbing these razor walls risky. Smaller critters, however, find it easier to slither around these structures and traverse these sharp growths. One of the best example of these denizens would be the Dollheim! These odd little invertebrates use long spindly arms to climb amongst the crystals and growths. Their hands have long thin fingers that are coated in small hooks to give them better grip, and their lower appendages serve as climbing tools in a pinch! You can see them swing from these crystals like monkeys, bounding about in search of prey. They feed primarily on bugs and worms, using their long fingers to probes holes and fish out morsels. From what observations I could make, they appear to be quite energetic and playful. When not searching for food, you can see them chase each other about and socializing with others. These little guys seem to have a lot of fun!

At some point, though, it stops being about fun and games. Predators are something they must worry about, so they have to be wary. Their small size and agility can help outrun and outmaneuver beasts, but sometimes they need something more. You may have noticed their rather strange head and huge "eyes," as they stick out for such a spindly critter. In truth, though, these massive yellow "eyes" are not their actual eyes. If you look below them, you may notice little black dots that you may have mistaken for nose holes. These are their true eyes, and the big things above them are actually light-producing organs. When predators are in pursuit, and they must escape, the Dollheim can activate these huge eye-like things to unleash a powerful flash of light. This alone can easily blind an attacker and disorient them, but in geode caverns, the effect is multiplied tenfold. With all the crystals and shimmering minerals, this flash of light can cause a massive light show that fills the entire cave. All those who are unprepared will be blasted and temporarily blinded, giving the Dollheim a chance to escape. It is a spectacle to see, but one that requires good eye protection to truly witness. Thankfully, the Dollheim's true eyes are very good at dealing with these sudden exposures, so they are hardly affected. When not being used for defense, the Dollheims will use these big light organs to signal to one another and communicate. Even then, you should wear goggles when they do this in a geode cavern. One of the times I was peeking in was when a Dollheim decided to unleash a flash and I was seeing colorful spots for an hour! An interesting note about Dollheims is that they caused quite a confusion for us surface dwellers when they were first encountered. The first time anyone up above ever saw them was when a carcass was found deep in a cave. It is now believed that this specimen had been taken by a predator and was carried off as a meal. When an expedition passed by, it startled the eater and they left behind their food. The body was discovered and speculation immediately kicked in. Since it was dead and chewed up, they could only guess about this odd creature. And since this happened long ago, when the Underworld was still seen as a place of myth and fear, no one had any references for this beast. So the researchers at the time drew up the Dollheim as a spindly goblin creature, who walked on its rear limbs and had huge eyes. It was quite an alien looking thing, and one that made no sense. People couldn't understand how it could walk upright on such thin limbs, not knowing that these appendages actually folded underneath and were not used for primary locomotion. Its true eyes were glossed over, and the light producing organs were seen as its eyes. The resulting image of the Dollheim was this gaunt goblin that haunted the caves and caverns. Some correctly guessed that it used these "eyes" to blind foes, while others thought that they could kill any who gazed into them. Names like "Cave Goblin," "Eye Goblin," "Blindheim" and "Cave Terror" were thrown around, and that was what we thought the Dollheim was for far too long (Makes me think of the Two-Headed Troll debacle)! Only when expeditions were sent further down decades later did they actually discover their true nature and anatomy. These treks became crucial to the first understandings of the Underworld, and they were the first ever look into this buried world. They served as the great first step into this unknown land, so I tip my cap to them in that regard. Reading them now, however, is a bit rough. Not much was known about the Underworld at the time and the denizens of this land were not regarded highly. It was a time when people thought demons were born from lava and ate babies, and boy does the writing reflect that attitude. If you ever give these journals a read, be prepared for a lot of uncomfortable sections and old fashioned "terms." I think my first attempt at them had me practically pull my collar off with all the "yikes" moments. The past is important for the present and we can learn much from it, but there are some things that are best left behind. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian -------------------------------------------- This entry may be about an Underworld critter, hard to tell. You might have to do some digging to find it!

#monster #creature #underworld #crystal #art #drawing #dollocaris

22 notes · View notes

svtegg · 4 years

Text

ready, set, go (SVT apocalypse!au)

♡ wordcount: 2,5k ♡ chapter 15/?

(ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4, ch.5, ch.6, ch.7, ch.8 ch.9 ch.10 ch.11 ch.12 ch.13 ch.14)

♡ this won’t make any sense if you haven’t read the last part so make sure to catch up on those before reading! they’re all linked above!

♡ rating: PG-13 death/violence, language, gore themes, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy

♡ pairing: svt (soonyoung) x reader

Seungcheol, Joshua and Soonyoung had been inside Seokmins room for a few hours. I had managed to get a hold of Joshua as he came out for some fresh air and he told me theyre drawing up a map of where in Gimpo airport the group is located. Seokmin was stressed and they didn’t want him shutting down so they had only let Minghao in to fix the radio connection and make sure we knew how to contact the Gimpo group from a different radio if we needed to. Joshua had looked anxious, his voice low and very concerned. “We are gonna have to take a huge risk with this, the raiders are notorious and if they get us, we are dead.” he had said, his eyes trained on the closed gates protecting the camp. A moment later he had disappeared back into the room and I had been left on the porch alone again, and the overwhelming sound of silence took over again.

The birds had started to gather in big flocks in the treetops and the choir of chirping was especially loud today. It was only when Chan exited the detached kitchen building with Sun by his side that the birds seemed to let up on their song. The younger boy seemed exited, despite the circumstances. He was almost galloping over to where I was stood, leaning on the railing of the porch. “Y/n! I have good news!” he called, the dog beside him just as exited as him. He took a few shallow breaths as he stopped in front of me, Sun going over to an overgrown brush to pee on it.

“Or at least I think this is good news.” Chan panted out before he looked up at me, his face cracked into a wide smile. “What?” I inquired, and I couldn’t help myself as I let myself mirror his contagious smile. “I think Sun is pregnant!” Chan laughed, looking like a child on Christmas day. I could feel my face flashing with surprise, happiness and a tiny bit of apprehensiveness. This wasn’t the best timing, but at the same time having a bunch of mini Sun’s running around wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. “What? Really! Are you sure?” I ask Chan as he lets out an exited giggle accompanied by a nod. “She’s maybe a month along, which means there’s about a month left. I think.” The younger man smiled before he continued, his eyes fastened on the dog happily sniffing a patch of dry grass. “I read a book that was meant for veterinary students once. It was about the anatomy of the most common house pets. I actually learned that hamsters have complex emotional lives and that they can have days where they’re extra grumpy.” I let out an amused breath as I followed Chan’s gaze onto the dog who was now looking back at me with her tongue sideways out her mouth, oblivious to the circumstances.

“We should try to look for more food to give her, she’s gonna be needing a lot more as time goes to keep her puppies fed as well.” He continued, crossing his arms over his chest. I didn’t answer as I lifted my head to see who the figure moving closer was. Sun jumped over to the man, and as I squinted against the sun I could recognize the raspy and slightly congested voice belonging to Kim Mingyu. “Hiii Sunnie!” The tall man chirped and squatted down to give her some pets. The dog was unusually fond of Mingyu and always stuck around him when he was in close proximity to her, which I found endearing, seeing as Mingyu’s entire personality kind of reminded me of a puppy as well. “Hey guys!” He called over to Chan and I, as he glanced our way. I gave him an affirming nod and tried to stifle the smile I felt coming as I took in the scene in front of me. The tall, handsome and smart man with the raspy and deep voice sat there on the middle of the huge gravel lot talking to a dog with a high-pitched baby voice. I heard Chan snort from his position, and I looked over at him and gave him a knowing smile. As the older male finished doting on the dog he moved over towards Chan and I. “How’s the big boys club coming along?” He asked, slightly jerking his head in the direction of Seokmin’s room. Chan shrugged his shoulders as he looked over at me. I shook my head as I looked between the two males. “I haven’t heard anything, but I’m afraid we might have to do something pretty soon. Like today soon.” I sighed as I stretched my left arm out to Mingyu for him to help me up from my sitting position. The wooden floorboards of the porch under me creaked as I stood up beside the men. “I don’t think you two are in danger though, I think Seungcheol would rather sacrifice me or Jihoon over loosing his resident surgeons.” I tried, only half joking which both the boys in front of me caught onto. Chan let out a slightly forced laugh as he scratched his neck while Mingyu cleared his throat slightly. “But on a brighter side, we might be getting some new company soon!” I smiled, giving a meaningful look to Chan as I turned to leave. “Wait, what?” Mingyu quickly continued, looking between me and the younger male. I was already climbing the first set of stairs up to my room as I heard Chan start to explain that Sun was most likely pregnant.

The door to my room creaked open, a wall of hot stuffy air meeting me as I stepped inside the familiar space again. I knew we most likely would go out to help Seokmin’s group before it got dark and I wanted to go. I wanted to make sure we got that kid back safe. So as soon as the lock on the door clicked shut, I grabbed my backpack that had been sitting on the same spot against the wall for a month and opened the second last drawer on the old worn out dresser I had my belongings stashed in. The old but sturdy thigh strap I had worn every day before I came here was laying on top of all the things placed in the drawer. I took it out, along with a neck knife that Wonwoo had handed me one day with a quick “don’t tell anyone” as he passed me in the hallway leading from the dining hall to the entrance room. I never knew why he did that, but I had took it as a sign of trust and hidden it in this drawer in case I would ever need it. Which seemed to be the case now. I quickly gathered up some extra clothes and a pair of gloves before I grabbed my water bottle of the nightstand and shoved it into the bag.

I had thrown the bag into the room we usually used to plan in before trips, before making my way over to the A framed building to find Jihoon. I found him sitting in the ugly green couch situated in the entrance room of the kitchen building, reading through a book I didn’t recognize. I slumped down in the couch opposite to him, and he only looked up for a second before lowering his eyes to the pages again. “You’re gonna go too?” He asked, his voice only a mumble as I shifted my attention onto the floor to ceiling window. There were only yellowing trees outside, but my eyes quickly fastened onto the different colored leaves outside the glass. “Mmm. They’re gonna have to bring me. I want that child safe and no fucking way I’m gonna let a gang of grown men go alone to save a pregnant woman and a child.” I mused, subconsciously running my finger along the taped parts of the material now clasped around my right thigh. Jihoon let out an amused sound, something that sounded like a mix of a breath and a snort. Silence once again filled the room and I had no idea how long the two of us had been sitting there when a whistle ripped through the still air.

Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Wonwoo had gathered on the porch outside Seokmin’s room, and as both Jihoon and I emerged from the separate building we could see Joshua disappearing between the huge spruces that shielded the cars from the changing weather. “We’re going in 15 minutes.” Seungcheol said, his eyes fastened on the watch around his wrist. He looked stern like he always does, but his hair was ruffled and messy, like he had been running his hands through it. “Wonwoo, you take Jihoon and Y/n to get some supplies from the storage, one firearm and one combat weapon each. Soonyoung and I will be helping Joshua ready the cars. We’re going in two groups. Group one is Soonyoung, Jihoon and Minghao and group two is me, Joshua and you.” He continued as he made eyecontact with everyone on turn. Chan and Mingyu where stood on the same place they had been when I left them, Sun stuck to Mingyu’s leg. I could barely make out Junhui’s face popping out of the doorframe to the room Seokmin was probably trying his best to rest in. There was a moment of silent agreement before everyone went to their respective places to finish getting ready.

Wonwoo wordlessly unlocked the tiny shed behind the garage where I had been once before and motioned for Jihoon and I to go inside. “Pick something you have used before, we won’t have time for any demonstrations.” He spoke darkly as he held the door open for the two of us. I took a quick look around the room before picking a Smith & Wesson semiautomatic pistol of the desk. It was a 9 mm and so I quickly gathered the right ammunition and snatched the first boot knife I saw before making my way back over to the clearing in front of the buildings. I had fastened the weapon to the waistband of my jeans and was holding the sheathed knife in my hand I made my way over to get my backpack. I opened the strat room, the table covered with maps and different notepads of addresses sitting untouched as I ventured inside to find my belongings. The room smelled like most of the other rooms, dust and warm boxed in air. The lock clicked softly behind me and I spun around in surprise, wondering who would come in here when we where all supposed to get ready, only to be met by Soonyoungs grinning face. “Hi.” he murmured as he looked me up and down. I sighed, letting out a shaky breath as I felt the tiny bit of adrenaline surge through my body from the unexpected surprise. The male opposite of me just laughed, his mouth closed in a cocky smirk and his eyes upturned into cresent shapes.

“What?” I playfully snapped as I felt my shoulders relax a little. He moved closer, his left arm coming out to touch my hip lightly as he cocked his head back to look at me again. “Nothing.” He breathed, slowly spinning me around so my back was against him. “You just look a little uptight.” He said, his breath fanning over my right ear as he leaned against me. His hands came up to lightly massage my shoulders and I let myself lean into him slightly. Silence filled the room as I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of my taught muscles being worked on. “Be careful on this mission, okay?” Soonyoung whispered as he started working his hands down my back. “This is gonna be dangerous, more dangerous than anything we’ve ever done before.” He continued, his face coming dangerously close to my neck as he moved his thumbs against my lower back. “We can’t afford to lose the only one who smells good around here. That’s gonna stink.” the male joked, leaning his chin onto my shoulder as I let out a sound that sounded dangerously close to a moan. I took a deep breath as Soonyoung’s hands fell from my back and two seconds later took a soft hold on my hips to turn me back around to face him. “You be careful too, because you’re gonna do that again once we’re back.” I teased, stepping closer to the smiling male to wrap my hands around his midsection. I leaned into his chest, giving him a hug that should have been a few seconds shorter because just as we separated the door flew open and a quizzical Minghao stared between me and the man beside me. “We’re going.” The younger one stated before disappearing just as fast as he appeared.

I had grabbed my backpack quickly and as Soonyoung and I made it onto the parking lot we separated with a meaningful glance and seconds later the two cars where rolling silently down towards the city.

a/n: i totally forgot i HADNT uploaded this....im so sorry!!!! i had promised to upload it during christmas but so much happened i just didnt end up having time for it!!!! i feel so guilty, sorry :(( ill try to keep my promises from now on! thank you all for waiting and being so patient! also thank you all for 500 followers! i hit that sometime before christmas and i never said thank you so here i am, a month late giving my thanks through this way too late update! ily thank you for supporting and reading my work uwu

25 notes · View notes

gaslightgallows · 5 years

Note

Jack and Phryne reunite in London and go book shopping and happen upon AZ Fell & Co. I rather not on the smut.

Oh my lord this is the silliest thing ever. ♥

(Read at AO3)

"I don't know if you'll have much luck in there, Jack," said Phryne, as they stood on a street corner in Soho, and Jack eyed the well-stocked windows of the venerable "A.Z. Fell & Co." book shop. "My cousin Guy once got thrown out by the owner."

Jack couldn't help a grin. "That's not too difficult to imagine. I'll wager your cousin Guy's been chucked out of most of the respectable shops in London."

"True, but he wasn't doing anything untoward this time. He just wanted to buy a book."

"...And the owner threw him out?"

Phryne nodded. "Apparently, Mr. Fell is chronically averse to actually selling any of his stock. According to Mac, it's more of a esoterically curated private collection, than an actual retail establishment. She spent a lot of time here, when she was a student, and got to know him rather well."

"Dr. Macmillan knows this Mr. Fell, Guy Stanley knows him... and you, Miss Fisher? Are you acquainted with him?"

"Only in passing. I'm afraid I don't have any patience with people who run shops but won't sell anything."

Jack's grin widened. "Not your type of man?"

Phryne's eyes twinkled, but she shook her head. "Not any woman's type of man, I'd say."

"Ah."

"Mac and I got thrown out, too."

That made Jack blink. "Oh, well, now I have to go in. Any man who has the fortitude to toss both you and Elizabeth Macmillan out on your ears is someone who deserves at least my theoretical patronage. Unless you're banned from the shop?"

"Well... I was... but that was a long time ago. Fell probably won't remember me."

It was wishful thinking, as Jack realized within seconds of opening the shop's front door.

"You! I thought I told you not to come back." A pale, slightly plump figure swirled out of the back and made shooing motions with his exquisitely manicured hands. "I'm a patient person but I do draw the line at shoplifting, young lady!"

Jack swallowed most of a laugh and looked down at the Honourable Phryne Fisher, who had the grace to appear at least a little abashed. "Hello, Mr. Fell, I wasn't sure you'd know me. It's been well over a decade."

The shopkeeper cocked his head slightly with an expression that reminded Jack of a deeply disappointed school mistress. "I never forget a face, especially the face of someone who tries to make off with one of my books, no matter how much they've grown up in the intervening years. Now, I really must ask you both to--"

"Is that an original Morte D'Artur?" Phryne asked, breezing past the owner. "Oh, how splendid."

Mr. Fell blinked.

Jack coughed politely. "I'm sorry to have brought trouble to your doorstep, sir. It was my idea to come into the shop. I'm visiting London and--"

"Oh no, my dear fellow, no apologies needed." Mr. Fell sighed. "There's very little point wasting energy trying to resist Miss Fisher when she's made up her mind, I quite understand that. I learned that when she was a girl."

"You, um." Jack stopped and looked the man over with a professional eye. Average height, a little too well-fed, clothes of good quality, if having seen better days, white-blond curls that seemed to resent being so neatly combed, and suspiciously guileless blue eyes. Jack decided three things, based on his observations: one, that he wouldn't trust this man within an inch of his life; two, that he would absolutely trust this man, when the chips were down, and three, that Mr. Fell was one-hundred percent the sort of bloke who would be taken up in a police raid at a Certain Type of Establishment.

What he couldn't put his finger on was how old Mr. Fell was. Because he didn't look any older than Phryne or himself... but he'd known Phryne when she was a child, probably since shortly after her relocation to England.

It made no sense.

"You've known Miss Fisher long?"

Mr. Fell scrunched his nose. "Oh, yes. Long enough to realize that what she can't pay for, she'll make off with--oh, for--don't touch that!"

Phryne rolled her eyes and waggled the fingers of her free hand. "I'm wearing gloves!"

"I assure you, Mr. Fell," said Jack quietly, not sure of the undercurrents happening but deeply amused, nevertheless, "she can pay for anything she decides to buy."

"Hmph. That's a long chalk from where she was the last time she was in my shop."

"I was fifteen!"

"You were a menace to society. You and that Macmillan girl."

"Well, that hasn't changed," Jack said, with a smirk. "Why did you toss them out?"

"For trying to buy a book," Phryne replied, before Mr. Fell could open his mouth.

"No, I threw your cousin out for trying to buy a book. I threw you and your friend out for trying to steal a book. A first edition of Gray's Anatomy, I believe, or possibly Harvey's "On the Circulation of the Blood. Some important medical title, at any rate. And you're lucky I didn't do more than chuck you out!"

Phryne snapped Le Morte d'Artur shut, making Mr. Fell wince. "Mac had the money, you just wouldn't sell it."

"Those funds were ill-gotten, as you knew perfectly well. It would have been wrong to sell either of you anything."

"How did you know the money was stolen?" Jack interjected, before things got too out of hand.

Mr. Fell made some unintelligible noises, before settling on, "Well, it was obvious! One gets to recognize such signs, in my business! And what would have happened to me, if I'd sold it. I'd have had the police round here after me as an accomplice!"

"Well, she got the book in the end, didn't she?" said Jack. "I've been to Mac's flat, she's got that gorgeous copy of Gray's Anatomy on her desk. Pride of place, too."

"Yes, funny thing about that." Phryne was looking at Fell now with an unfamiliar mixture of amusement and awe. "After we reluctantly went home and, er, returned the funds to their rightful owner, Mac found that very same book in her room."

"She might have said thank you," Mr. Fell muttered, turning away to brush some dust from a nearby shelf.

"How could she? You banned us from the shop."

"Doesn't seem to have stopped you."

"It was twenty years ago! Now, if you're done lecturing me over childhood misdemeanors, I'd like to buy this."

Fell snapped out what to Jack's ears sounded like an utterly obscene price, but Phryne accepted it without a murmur and pulled out her chequebook.

"Cash only," said Fell loftily. "No cheques."

"That's fine, I'll just run to the bank--"

"I'm closing in five minutes. Then I'm going on holiday. Won't be back for months."

Phryne's face fell so sharply that Jack suddenly felt a lump in his throat. "That's a shame," she said, with complete sincerity, and carefully laid the book down. "I was hoping to give it to my daughter as a present."

"Oh, that's... well, that is unfortunate."

Was it Jack's imagination, or did the dapper little man look uncomfortable? No, not his imagination, and nothing that Phryne was doing, either. He'd seen her delicately manipulate people of both sexes into getting her way, and there was none of that tactic here. She simply looked... disappointed.

And Fell didn't appear to be on board with that.

"Right, well... anyway, terribly nice to see you again, do stop back the next time you're on this side of the world. Must close up now." He all but shoved them out of the shop, and in a moment they were back on the sidewalk and halfway down the block before they realized what was happening.

"Silly old fool," said Phryne, taking Jack's arm for the walk back to their hotel.

After the story about Mac and the book, Jack was half expecting something miraculous, but seeing the small oblong parcel sitting on the desk of their hotel room still sent a shiver up his spine. He hadn't seen Fell leave the shop, and there hadn't been any time for him to slip out, let alone...

Let alone what?

"Phryne. The money you and Mac tried to use when you were children. Was it stolen?"

"I'm afraid so, though the only till we'd rifled was my father's hidden stash. But how Fell could have known that..." She sat down at the desk and gently untied the parcel, revealing the beautiful little copy of Le Morte D'Artur and a small card:

For Jane. Compliments of A.Z. Fell.

#joaryn #miss fisher's murder mysteries #good omens #mfmm #phrack #phryne x jack #aziraphale #a.z. fell #aziraphale my sweet soft bastard #bizarre niche crossovers #prompt and ye shall receive #prompt fic #prompt fill

92 notes · View notes

starlight-drive-in · 5 years

Text

Love Gone By

I told myself I wouldn’t write a reset theory fic, but it is @mmangstweek soooo here we go! For Day 4:Reset / 4th Wall Break

MC doesn't exactly recall all the details of the resets but she gets glimpses into her “past lives” with each RFA member when something triggers a memory, like a smell, or a sound or a certain expression or phrase, etc. The others don't recall them (I couldn’t do that to them XD) she bears the weight on her own while trying her best to enjoy the current “timeline” which in the case she's with Saeran (since he’s currently the last route, but also cuz I’m Saeran trash) and hoping that she won't have to leave him the way she’s apparently had to leave the rest of them.

----

It was hard for her to spend time with the RFA, even with how much she loved them all. It seemed like every time she spent time with them she would “recall” memories of being with each of them. Memories that felt lifetimes away and yet also felt just like home. She remembered what each of them had been at their best, would see flickers of the ideal version each of them had the potential to become. Each time was so hard on her, but how could she ever tell any of them? She couldn’t do that to them, She couldn’t do that to Saeran.

One time she’d been talking with Yoosung about LOLOL. He had mimicked a character with an eyepatch, closing his left eye and quoting a character line when suddenly her face dropped from its jovial expression into one of stark white seriousness.

Suddenly, she remembered how hard he had fought for her, how he had tried and ultimately succeeded in keeping her safe. Her eyes darted across the room for a second, landing on someone else. Was it him who had hurt Yoosung? Was it him who Yoosung had gone through all the trouble to protect her from? The sudden realization of irony nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Her eyes focused again on Yoosung, still going off about new buffs and nerfs in the latest patch. He’s such a passionate person, and she knows he’d go to any length for the right person. She knows because in one universe that person had been her. She remembers evenings in his apartment, filled with impassioned ramblings about different animal’s anatomies, and how fascinated he was with his studies. She remembers walking through the park, hand in hand, smiling.

She remembers waking up, a head of messy blonde hair on one side and a soft grey and white cat on the other. She remembers how hard she cheered for him as we walked across the stage to receive his diploma. She remembers toasting him in congratulations at the party the RFA had thrown for him. She remembers displays of passion in the office of his private practice. She remembers the man he had become with a little love and has to excuse herself to take a walk outside to hide her tears.

And then it was Zen. They were at the debut party for his latest musical. Zen was on cloud nine after a flawless first night. Not even the sight of Jumin entering the room could dull his spirit. As soon as his eyes landed on MC he was bounding over to her, full of energy.

“Jagiya!” He had called excitedly. God, she really wished he’d stop calling her that because every time he did the memories would flood in. Every time he said it was like an arrow had shot her straight through the heart. She almost wished Saeran would pull the jealous card, tell him that she wasn’t Zen’s ‘Jagiya’. But he never did. She wasn't sure if Saeran just didn't mind, or if he just didn't want to cause an issue. Either way, she could never bring herself to ask Zen to stop herself, selfish as ever.

He pulled her into a tight hug and before she could remind herself to hold her breath she was inhaling the scent of tobacco mixed with his cologne that smells like fresh linen. That, combined with the low murmur of the party guests had her right back in the moment of his press conference. When he had unashamedly told the world about her without a doubt of fear for his career in his mind.

She remembers how angry he had been at who she now knows as Saeyoung for not telling him where Rika’s apartment was, she remembers biting the hand that she was holding just a moment ago. She remembers gripping Zen’s waist tightly and speeding down city streets, getting far, far away from the man that now shares her bed. She remembers heated moments in make-up trailers and a completely different bed. She remembers scarlet eyes, just centimeters from her own. With the power to hold for hours, simultaneously terrifying and beautiful. She remembers taunting the ‘beast’ just for the thrill of what would come.

When they separated, her eyes were moist.

“Jagiya, what's wrong?” Zen soothed, immediately concerned.

“Nothing Zenny,” She choked out “I’m just… so proud of you. You did so well tonight.”

Zen chuckled nervously. “Ah. haha Wel, thank you. I didn't mean to move a woman to tears, but what can I say? I guess I'm just that good.”

She giggled, stepped back, and wiped her eyes as gracefully as possible. “Yes, yes, you are.”

Another time she was visiting Jaehee, going over plans for upcoming RFA events. Jaehee had left her momentary. MC figured she just went to go use the bathroom, but when she returned a lovely scent followed her. Jaehee placed down two cups of coffee. Just by the color, MC could tell Jaehee had gotten it just perfect.

“Delicious,” MC commented taking a sip, hoping to wash down the sudden lump in her throat.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I believe I can make quite the cup of coffee,” Jaehee said brightly.

Suddenly a memory of Jaehee swiping a bit of stray frosting from the tip of MC’s nose comes to mind. The Jaehee in her mind giggles magnificently as her long brown locks bounce around her bright, well-rested face. She remembers the way that face had greeted her that morning with a gentle kiss full of love, and a self-realized happiness this timeline’s Jaehee didn’t know.

Suddenly it was MC who needed to take a trip to the bathroom because she couldn’t let Jaehee see her cry. Jaehee had much to worry about, she didn't need to worry about MC too.

For some reason, whenever MC looks at Jumin she feels sad. He’s always well put together, he always keeps everyone together but who keeps Jumin together? Especially now that no one had heard from V since her and Saeran left Mint Eye.

It had happened during an RFA meeting. They had become accustomed to hosting the RFA meetings in the conference room off of Jumin’s office. Jaehee and Jumin were always there, and Saeran was often being contracted to help at C&R as of late, so the location made sense. The subject of this meeting wasn’t a party though. The subject of this meeting was Rika and V.

The RFA was turning over a new leaf, but before they could do that there were a lot of things that had to be explained. Saeran tried his best to piece together his timeline with the rest of the RFA, explaining how he came to be under V and Rika’s care and then eventually just Rika’s care, before transitioning into his memories of the beginning of Mint Eye. Under the table MC squeezed Saeran's hand gently in encouragement, knowing how hard it was for him to talk about this, even if he was getting more used to it.

She glanced over to her other side, where Jumin was seated at the head of the table, the new head of the RFA in V’s absence. Where she was met with a very distraught Jumin, his expression was pained, eye’s closed as his head rested on his left hand, his right hand balled in frustration on the table’s surface.

Gently with her free hand, she had reached out, touching Jumin’s shoulder in concern. He had opened his eyes abruptly in surprise and stared wide eye-ed at her gesture, before fixing his posture into something rigid and more typical of Jumin Han.

A moment later he retreated to his office where MC could see him remove a bottle of brown liquor from his bottom desk drawer and poured himself a glass before sitting defeatedly in his desk chair. She let go of Saeran’s hand and patted him on the shoulder, to let him know she’d be back and that he should continue.

“Jumin?” She had said softly in the threshold of his doorway. “Can I come in?”

He didn’t answer but nodded his head in permission. MC had stood next to him, and leaned her weight against his desk casually. “This is probably a stupid question but, how are you doing?” she asked.

“Nothing I know makes sense anymore, It is as if my head is in knots,” Jumin replied, taking a healthy drag from his glass.

That sounded so familiar. She had heard those words before. Her eyes focused past him to the view of the city from outside his office window, and although she can’t recall ever going to his home, she knows it’s almost the same as the view from his penthouse.

And then she remembers. Days spent in his penthouse, him begging her not to leave, her not wanting to give up on him. She remembers the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing her. She remembers V talking some sense into him, she remembers him on one knee. She remembers V behind a camera wearing a smile as he photographs their wedding. She remembers a honeymoon made for a queen and an agonizingly slow consummation that was so, so worth it in the end. She remembers a small head of black hair and a smile on Jumin’s face that most people wouldn’t even think was possible just before he kisses the crown of his newborn baby boy in her arms.

Jumin keeps everyone together, but who keeps Jumin together? Once, it had been her. She feels a tear well up in her eye as she thinks maybe she can still be there for him, even in this universe. Even if she can’t bring him the joy she once did, a joy that he isn't even aware could exist. She brushes away the tear and steals herself.

“I know all this new information about Rika and V is hard for you to hear. Do you want to talk about it?” She asks earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise that someone would take a moment to consider his place in this.

Saeyoung was the hardest. Partially because he didn't even have to be there for the memories to come. In fact, she had recalled him before she even met him.

She and Ray we’re sitting across the table from each other in her room when she first arrived at Mint Eye. She had said something silly, she can’t even recall what it was now. That wasn’t what was important anyway. What was important was the way Ray’s face had lit up at whatever it was she had said, the way he laughed wholeheartedly, a brilliant smile gracing his tired face, and then the sudden sense that she had seen that face before, but different? It was like the colors were wrong, but the tired look of adoration he was giving her was the same. The bend of his lips and the way his eyes quirked up on the sides was so familiar it felt like she had known him her entire life, or at least someone who looked shockingly similar. But that didn't make any sense until it did.

She could avoid the faces of the others all she wanted, but she couldn't avoid Saeyoung’s. She couldn’t avoid the sheer fact that Saeran and Saeyoung shared a face. And that sometimes when the light would hit her boyfriend’s face just right when he’d smile just the right way. She’d remember. She’d remember a vastly different version of her current lover - a version that wasn’t her lover at all, but her brother-in-law. She’d remember days in an apartment she’d never been to. She’d remember tip-toeing about the place trying her best not to disturb a certain red-head with glasses. She’d remember breaking down an emotional wall, and a comfortable embrace padded by the many layers of clothes Saeyoung always wore. She’d remember a desperate, passionate night of love-making in which they both ended up in tears, overcome with emotions and fear of what the next day would hold. Not wanting to lose each other.

She’d remember the struggle it was to get Saeran out of Mint Eye, something that seemed vastly foreign to the way he had left on his own in this universe. She remembers hard nights in a bunker that looks similar to the one he lives in now, yet not the same. Holding Saeyoung, reassuring him he was doing everything he could, that he had always done his best.

She remembers when it got better again. She remembers an endearingly-dorky, digitally voiced, proposal that was so him there was no way it was a false memory. She remembers a 3 person family, and a space-themed wedding. Then a fourth person, She remembers holding her newborn daughter in one arm and her husband's crying face in the other as he whispered “thank you” over and over again through sobs.

She remembers 3 heads of red hair, one smaller than the other two, all cuddled together on the couch, having fallen asleep while watching a movie. She remembers a happy heart and a home full of laughter.

And a tear would streak down her cheek, she’d try to hide it from Saeran. But there was never any hiding from him. He’d rush to her and hold her gently in his arms ask what was wrong. She’d blame it on something else and sob into the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t push it. He knew some things weren’t easy to discuss, he only hoped that telling her he loved her and that everything would ok would be enough for her.

And then, there was V. No, not V - Jihyun. In the end, he had done all he could for her and Saeran, had tried to right his wrongs. But at what cost? She hated the fact that he went back to Rika. Every bone in her body screamed for her to stop him from sacrificing himself, to go back and drag him out of there. But there was no convincing V, he was surprisingly stubborn despite his gentle appearance.

The moment she and Saeran had passed over the threshold of that cabin it looked so familiar. She could have sworn she’d been there before, maybe even a few times? But when she mentioned it to Saeran he’s pretty sure that’s impossible. He showed her where they were on his map app and surely enough, she’d never been to this part of the country that she could recall.

Still, everything in there looked so familiar. She already knew where everything was, knew her way around the place, but how? Her eyes settle on the couch, plain by all accounts but again, too familiar.

And then it happened, She remembered. She was sitting here on the floor next to this couch. Holding a hand that was cold and damp as anxiety and fear weighed heavily in the room. Other people were here also, but she can’t recall who. Her fingers carded through soft, silky hair that was a beautiful shade of blue-green. It was V. She remembers taking a walk with him and then leaving, she remembers regretting that decision almost instantly and red hot anger. She remembers a phone call with the man currently sitting at the table in this reality that broke her heart. She remembered decisions that were too hard to make, and then an explosion that made her question everything.

She remembers a hospital and then the image of V walking away from her. She remembers a very lonely two years and the image of Saeyoung crying. And then she remembered an RFA party, the way her heart soared at a familiar voice and then V’s face.

“Please, call me Jihyun now.” He had said to her. The Jihyun in her mind looks vastly different from the man she had met that week in the current timeline. This Jihyun was happy and healthy.

She remembers brother’s hugging and a huge relief. She remembers the face of her current lover marred, but beautiful as ever. She remembers Saeyoung crying again, but this time not in grief. She remembers a proud look on Jihyuns face as he watched the scene, a tear of happiness welled up in his eye.

She remembers a slow, sweet romance between her and Jihyun. She remembers watching him learn to love again. She remembers laughing and slinging paint at each other in his studio and a long-awaited kiss that quickly turned into a wonderful out-pouring of emotions. She didn’t even know V painted…

She remembers Sunday dinners with Jihyun, Saeran, and Saeyoung, in a modern style house with so many windows they didn't even have to turn on a light. She remembers a sense of forgiveness around that table so abundant she gasped. She remembers a small girl, full of energy as she talked about her many uncles. She didn't give birth to her she knows, but she had loved her all the same. She remembers lazy mornings in an unbelievable comfortable bed and Jihyun’s smiling face.

She gasps out loud as a sob had broken over her. Luckily Saeran was busy talking to the intelligence unit and hadn’t heard her. How could she even have begun to explain what she saw in her mind’s eye? She would learn to get used to this in time to come.

She doesn't understand how any of this is even possible, the universe can be so cruel. She loves the RFA, each and every one of them, in a way she can never explain to them. There's nothing she can do about it except support them each in this current world and hope someday another person would make each of them happy the way she had once done. She hopes that all of them can be safe and happy in the end.

She looks over at her boyfriend, knowing this is the best version of him and hopes she never has to see him any of the other ways she knows are possible ever again.

#mmangstweek #day 4 #mmangstweekday4 #day 4 reset / 4th wall break #Ive been working on this for 4 days and im still not sure how i feel about it #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger angst #yoosung #jaehee #zen #jumin #v #707 #saeyoung #saeran #unknown #mysme

42 notes · View notes

annoshkii · 5 years

Text

Artemis

**unedited**

“Put her down on the table!” Alessia screamed at the top of her lungs as she sprinted into the room. Shane, Penny, and Karl all rushed to oblige. Carefully the three of them lifted the limp body that Shane and Karl had been supporting onto the table.

“Will she be okay?” Penny said as she backed away a step, giving Alessia room to work. Panels rose from the floor and began scanning the bloody and battered form of their fifth team member, Artemis.

“We’ll see.” Alessia’s eyes never left the screens as her hands flew over the control board. Julius, the Ships AI, began to read readings off the screens while Alessia stocked a tray full of bandages and a suture kit. Finally looking away, Alessia dawned a pair of gloves and carefully began picking off the destroyed armour. The whole room collectively gasped as several deep stab wounds and a blaster mark chequered Artemis’s body.

“All of you out, I got this.”

Shane was the first to move and corralled the other two out. The beeping and whirring of machines died the instant the large doors clicked shut.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Karl clutched his fluffy black hair and immediately began pacing in front of the door. Penny collapsed against the wall, her legs aching and her feet sore from running. Pulling off her boots she began rubbing her feet, hissing whenever she hit a particularly tender spot. Shane remained standing still, staring straight ahead, arms crossed. They all looked like shit, but unlike Artemis, their injuries were superficial: dented armour, torn clothing, scratches, bruises and shallow cuts scattered along their bodies. Karl had ditched his helmet after a Yurgon sentry had smashed it to oblivion.

The mission hadn’t even been a success. The four had been assigned to do a simple information extraction mission. Thing had gotten out of hand when the panic button on the hardware had been tripped. Everyone had made a mad dash back to the pod, but they were intercepted by a squad of Yurgon sentry guards and a fight broke out.

“Karl stop pacing.” Shane snapped. “It’s not helping anyone.”

Karl stopped pacing but his hands twitched and clenched incessantly at his sides. In the end he shoved his hands in his armpits to still them.

“Go shower, change, and eat, guys. It’s going to be a long time before we hear anything from Alessia.” Shane bent down and pulled Penny to her feet, gentle pushing her down the hall away from the medical bay door. No one protested as the three of them walked silently, splitting off as they reached their rooms.

Shane took his time, carefully removing each piece of armour and laying it out on his bed. The chest piece was chipped and cracked, but everything else was in relatively good shape.

The shower helped to ease his muscles as the hot water beat against his skin. The cuts on his body stung as he scrubbed away dried blood and dirt. He was lucky it hadn’t been worse. The details were a blur. He couldn’t clearly recall what had happened. All he could picture were blaster shots firing all around him, a manic scream, and then nothing.

Stepping from the shower Shane dressed in loose pants and a sweater before collecting the armour to drop off at the armoury.

Karl had showered and changed at top speed. It really was no surprise that he was the first one in the kitchen cooking up a storm. The adrenaline was still thrumming in his veins and his bloody hands wouldn’t. Stop. Twitching! By the time Penny showed up, Karl had already crafted several platters of cheese, chopped meat, and seven hand carved fruit penguins. He was halfway through preparing a pot of spaghetti with fresh sauce.

“Good lord, Karl.” Penny mumbled as she grabbed a glass of water before slumping down in a chair in front of the cheese and meat platters. Shane appeared just as Karl finished putting the finishing garnishes on the heaping plates of food.

“Any news?” Shane asked as he pulled one of the plates towards him. Penny shook her head sending small flecks of sauce flying. The three of them sat in silence shovelling food in their mouths.

Penny was the first to finish and attempted to clear the dishes. This was short lived as Karl kept hovering nearby making critiques and pointing to spots Penny had missed. After throwing a penguin at his face, Penny stormed out of the kitchen and collapsed on a couch in the living room. Shane knew better than to try and help Karl, so when he finished he left his plate and went to join Penny.

“Penny?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No.” She sighed and nestled deeper into the pillows. “I had my hands full. Not really paying attention.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Shane yawned as he settled into a large armchair by the window. Silence fell again as they listened to Karl crash and bang around the kitchen.

~~~

<Charlie Squadron> Everyone jerked awake as the voice of Julius hummed gently around the room.

Everyone murmured a sigh of relief. Penny pushed herself up from the couch and rubbed the goop out of her eyes.

The three of them exchanged a confused look as they stood up and headed back to medical.

“What’s up Alessia?” The door slide shut after Karl. Alessia was standing with her back against the wall, arms crossed, staring at Artemis. She but pushed off the wall and walked over to the table.

“Take a look at this.” Alessia pulled back the covers enough to reveal a brand burned into Artemis’ left collar bone: a raven’s skull. Claw marks had been slashed around it, forming a crude X.

“No.” Shane gasped.

“It can’t be.” Karl whispered.

“What does this mean?” Penny asked, looking from Alessia to Shane to Karl. Each of them had a dark expression clouding their faces.

“She’s a Viquer Hunter.” Penny still didn’t understand why this warranted such a dramatic change in attitude. Alessia pressed on. “They are a ruthless tribe of near humans who inhabit the planet T-35774. Best known for their skills as assassins and guns for hire.”

“What do you mean near human?’”

“Viquers resemble human anatomy almost identically at a glance.” Shane answered, he looked like he was struggling to fully comprehend what was unfolding. “The differences are subtle. Their pupils are more angular than ours, the average height is around six foot two, generally slightly broader and muscular. Larger lung capacity too. A fully grown Viquer can run for hours before they get tired. They also have a unique chemical that their brain releases during fights that heightens their senses forty times more than humans.”

Shane and Penny walked to each side of the table and leaned over Artemis. One of the stab wounds was peeking out from under the bandage, it was roughly stitched up. Penny had a feeling it was done deliberately. Alessia never did sloppy sutures. She shot a glare at her across the table. Alessia returned it coldly. Shane carefully, almost lovingly, pulled the blanket back up again so it covered Artemis’s chest.

“Okay,” Penny said slowly, still not grasping why all this mattered. “But-”

“They’re killers Penny.” Karl said harshly. “They’ve wiped out entire species. I thought that they’d all died out to be honest.”

“Almost all of them. A small population still lives on T-3774. No more than a hundred of them at the most. Most of them were killed in the last rebellion.”

“Sure but this is Artemis,” Penny said imploringly. “She’s our friend, we know she’s not a killer.”

No one looked convinced. Shane looked like he was going to vomit. Karl and Alessia glared venomously down at Artemis.

“We should put her in the freezer until we land again.” Karl nodded with Alessia and together they moved towards Artemis. Both Shane and Penny jumped in to cut them off.

“We can’t do that.” Shane said reasonably.

“She’s our friend!” Penny screamed.

“Viquers killed my family!” Alessia hollered back. “They are murderers. It’s in their nature.”

“This doesn’t make sense. Viquers are known for their bloodthirsty and violent behaviour. We’ve known Artemis since the academy. She wouldn’t hurt a fly unless she had no other option. Besides, look at the scars.” Shane pointed down at the X carved into her chest. “She’s been cut off, thrown out. She’s not a real Viquer anymore.”

“Once a Viquer, always a Viquer! Julius!” Alessia called out.

“Ready the freezer.”

“Julius no!” Shane said in a calm but carrying voice. “At least give her a chance to explain herself before you throw her in.”

Alessia and Shane stared each other down like two bulls waiting to charge. Finally Alessia stood back and held her hands up.

“Fine.” She replied testily. “ Do you guys mind grabbing me a snack? I haven’t eaten in hours. And maybe a change of clothes?”

She gestured to the blood stained shirt she was wearing. Shane and Penny glared at her suspiciously. Alessia rolled her eyes at them.

“I’m not going to do anything. I promise.”

Alessia caught the back of Karl’s shirt as he passed. Discreetly giving him a look while the other two kept going. Just as they stepped out Shane felt something was off.

“Karl are you-”

“Julius seal the Medical Bay!” Alessia screamed. The doors slammed shut and the locks clicked. Shane slammed against the steal door and bounced off. Penny sprinted forward and pounded her fist against the solid mass.

“Alessia open the door! Open the fucking door!”

But nothing could be heard on the other side. Alessia let go of Karl and began fishing through cabinets and drawers. He watched as she filled a needle with bright green liquid.

“This might be violent.” She warned him before pulling down the sheet again and plunging it into Artemis’s arm.

One second passed. Two, then three. Karl was about to ask Alessia whether or not she’s given enough before a loud, rattling gasp emitted from the table. Artemis’s eyes shot open, her pupils completely blown out as she struggled to breathe for a second. It felt like someone had just injected a hoard of fire ants into her veins. Everything was burning, her heart was pounding in her chest, the sound of the air cooler shutting off pierced her ears, she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

Artemis bolted up right and started pulling at her shirt. She couldn’t breathe, the room was swimming. Two figures stood close by but they didn’t move to help her.

“Help…” She managed to croak. An oxygen mask was roughly shoved over her face. After a few pain staking breathes things began to settle down. Without warning the mask was ripped away again as soon as Artemis was breathing properly. The elastic bands snapped and stung her cheeks.

“Finally awake.” Alessia and Karl planted themselves at the foot of Artemis’s bed and glared at her.

“You have some explaining to do.” Karl said coldly.

“What?” Artemis looked around the room. The cold air was blasting out of somewhere, suddenly the one thin sheet wasn’t enough. Pulling it tighter around herself she realized that her armour had been striped off her chest. Leaving her only in her undershirt, and her biggest secret exposed.

“We know your secret, Viquer.” Alessia spat, face disgusted like she’d just eaten a rotten Jub Bug.

Artemis’s heart sank: so they finally knew. After years of carefully crafted stories and even more careful social interactions, the Katir was finally out of the bag. Obviously Alessia would have seen the brand while she was stitching her up. In the end it didn’t matter how well she thought she’d integrated into human society. It didn’t matter that she’s done everything she could to prove she was loyal and kind. People saw the brand and they automatically pegged four hundred years of violence and bigotry on her. Like she had a choice what family she was born into.

“You going to say anything or just sit there until daisies sprout outta your ears?” Alessia snapped impatiently. Artemis shook her head, trying to refocus. Her arms felt so heavy

“You do want me to say?” Artemis responded with a drunken slur, her tongue felt fat and numb.

“Why did you lie to us? Is Artemis even your real name?” Karl spook in a slow mocking voice.

“No, it was Warclaw.” Artemis replied slowly, her brow furrowed. Where was everyone else? “Where’s Shane?”

“Cry me a river, you savage.” Alessia spat venomously. Distant thuds and shouting could be heard on the other side of the wall.

“Are we under attack?”

“I can’t wait to see what high command does when they realise that there’s a traitor amoung us.” Karl chuckled darkly.

Hot anger cleared away the last bit of fog from Artemis’s mind.

“I am not a traitor!”

“Save it!” Alessia shouted back, slamming her hands down on the bed. “I know your kind. You’re a blood thirsty brute. But, oh, credit where credit is deserved. You played your role extremely well. I mean, you had us all fooled into thinking you were one of us. Well done, really.”

“You have it all wrong Alessia, please. Listen to me!”

“Julius?” Karl called out.

<Yes, Karl?>

“Prepare the freezer.”

The blood drained out of Artemis’s face. Her arms shook on the table but she wasn’t sure whether it was because of fatigue or fear. On the opposite end of the room a slender cylinder tub slide gracefully from the floor. With a soft hiss the door opened and a cloud of frosted air spilled onto the ground.

“That’s not necessary.” She stuttered. A loud explosion shook the room. The smell of smoke and gun fire filtered slowly into the room.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“Doesn’t matter. Help me with her.” Alessia and Karl moved to either side and pulled Artemis off the bed.

“No don’t! Wait!” Artemis pleaded as they dragged her towards the tube. She let her legs go limp and tried to drag them down. “I wanted to tell you guys. I did! But we didn’t know each other in the academy and I knew people hated my kind so I just did everything I could to blend in. Then when we got paired up I just kept pushing it to the side and hoped that it would just never come up.”

“Well you badly misjudged.” Alessia hissed giving Artemis’s arm a painful jerk.

“Yeah, I was branded,” Artemis continued frantically, looking imploringly at both of them. “But my family disowned me a year later. I was marked and cast off the planet with a promise from my father that he would kill me if I ever returned.”

“Once a Viquer, always a Viquer.” Karl growled.

“No! I didn’t fight for them, I never would. They assumed something was wrong with me and a defective offspring is a huge dishonour to the family. I never agreed with their ways or their very sketchy beliefs of right and wrong. I swear!”

With an almighty heave they shoved Artemis inside the tube. The door closed seamlessly behind her, sealing her inside a tiny glass tube.

“No! Let me out! Please don’t do this!” Artemis screamed and pounded on the glass. But the glass was sound proof. No one could hear her. Freezing cold air began streaming out of the fissures, quickly clouding the glass with frost.

“No!” Artemis cried, desperate and panicked tears crystalized on her cheeks. Her feet were already starting to tingle and go numb. “Please don’t leave me in here!”

One more explosion shook the room. Artemis felt the tremor shake the tube. Artemis raised and frozen hand and desperately wiped away the frost see what was going on. The main door had been blasted open and Shane and Penny were sprinting over. Alessia turned to face them but kept one hand on the controls. The tingling numbness had reached her thighs, Artemis began pounding on the glass and screaming again.

“What the fuck!” Penny screamed. “Let her out!”

“This had to be done.” Alessia replied coolly. Shane made to step around them but Karl pushed him

back. Shane launched himself at Karl and they both tumbled to the ground biting, punching, and kicking each other. Alessia cackled madly but stopped abruptly when Penny threw herself at the controls. Scrapping at Alessia’s finger, trying everything she could to pry them away. Penny bit the back of Alessia’s hand so hard that a small trickle of blood dribbled out. Alessia howled in pain and jerked her hand away. Mercifully the freezing air, which was now almost half way up Artemis’s stomach, stopped.

Artemis was gasping, trying to keep herself from passing out. Her hands were pressed firmly against the walls. Still the glass loomed and pressed into her. Several stitches had torn, the blood was freezing in lumps, burning her skin.

“Julius!” Shane shouted as he held a struggling Karl down. “Open the Freezer now!”

The door slide open, clouds of cold air spilling out. Legs completely frozen, Artemis tumbled out and lay sprawled on the ground. The outside room smelled thickly of smoke and was swelteringly hot compared to the slow freezing. Penny reached her first, skidding on her knees beside her. Several long scratches ran down her arms as she wrapped Artemis in a protective hug. Shane ripped the thin sheet off the table and wrapped it tightly around her.

“Are you alright?” Shane asked quietly.

“Cant… feel… legs.” Artemis said between long deep breaths. Penny pulled the blanket tight around Artemis while Shane began furiously rubbing Artemis’s legs trying to get the blood flowing again.

Alessia pulled herself up off the floor before helping Karl to his feet. He had one hand cradling his obviously broken nose.

“What the hell were you guys thinking? She is part of our team!” Shane hollered at them. Alessia just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Get off your high horse Shane, I know you despise them too.”

“That’s not on her.” Shane replied curtly.

“I see she has you wrapped right around her finger.” Karl said menacingly. Shane opened his mouth to counter but Karl cut him off. “We all know that you’re in love with her. We’re not dumb. Everyone sees how you look at her, holding her hand when you think no ones watching. But hey! At least now you know why she won’t sleep with you.”

The room was deadly silent. Shane’s face had gone the brightest red but his eyes screamed murder. The stitches pulled at Artemis’s skin as she moved. She could feel her energy depleting quickly as she sunk slowly back against Penny.

“I can’t believe we trusted you.” Karl growled. “You’re nothing but a lying, murderous, lowlife.”

“Yeah,” Alessia agreed in an equally menacing voice. “I don’t buy your flowery speech. Your kind doesn’t change. We’ve seen you fight. You’re just as violent as the rest of them.”

Artemis slipped a few inches more onto the ground. The small thud sent a slice up her spine as several muscles around the wounds tensed and spasmed. The three others were all shouting and arguing around her. Artemis could see their lips move but the only thing she heard was a low white noise that was slowly getting louder. Shane had a death grip on her right calf. She could feel small splashes of tears every so often on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to be lonely again.” Artemis whispered as her head fell back against Penny. The edges of her vision were becoming dark and cloudy. She couldn’t hear what Penny said back but her message was clear enough. The arms around her tightened and began to gently rock her as her eyes closed.

“Conquest protocol says that any non hostile prisoners should be detained in their quarters.” Shane recited through gritted teeth. “She’s injured and she has never done anything to harm any of us.”

“Fine!” Alessia shouted throwing her hands in the air before turning on her heels and storming out. “But I’m not treating her again so don’t tear any stitches.”

Shane glared at Alessia and Karl as they stormed out of the bay. The blood had thawed and was starting to slowly pulse down onto the floor. Patches of frost bitten skin marked the spot it had once been. Penny did her best to wipe away the blood while Shane scavenged around for a suture kit. He worked swiftly and quietly, closing the open wounds and wiping the area clean before covering it with a fresh white bandage.

“What are we going to do?” Penny whispered, moving very carefully to not wake Artemis again.

“I don’t know.” Shane said dejectedly. “Lets start by getting her settled in her room.”

Together, the two of them shifted the unconscious body onto a gurney and wheeled it out into the hallway towards the dorms.

#my writing #sci-fi #origional content #origional character

12 notes · View notes