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legerescriptor · 18 days

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I saw a post the other day, about how humans are indestructible. How nothing can stop us.

Shot in the arms? The breast? Even in the lungs or the head? Nothing we can't recover from.

Acid in the eyes or even burning alive? We're not dead yet. Not dead soon.

We can recover from basically anything if we have the willpower to do so and even with way less resources and medical aid than you might think.

And that's what we seem to be to other species. On a spaceship it's always the human that willingly goes into danger zone, because they very probably will survive about anything that would kill other species immediately.

Except for when a human comes back alive but not quite so. Sometimes a human comes back and just a few days later is getting sick. Some are coughing blood and some are just slowly losing energy, always needing more sleep, until they never wake up again.

Sometimes humans survive the battlefield, but die slowly later on and no one knows why. They seemed fine. They didn't even have an injury. They just... Slowly withered away. Very very slowly. And most of the time very very painful.

The tale of the indestructible human was just that. A tale. A myth. But it kept getting repeated. It kept getting told. Because it was interesting, unbelievable, heroic.

But the truth? It was gruesome, hard to hear and even harder to tell. It was a horror story. And worst of all: It was even harder to believe than the myth.

But then there was this day. A spaceship, alone, no help could reach them. Not fast enough. Something needed fixing. But there was radiation coming off it and all of the protective gear was damaged and no longer useable since the ship crashed into a meteor only a few days prior. Nothing too bad happened. Just the storage. The storage and with it all the gear in it.

And now they needed it, noone would survive the radiation. Noone except for maybe...

They asked the humans, there were two of them on the ship, and they were indestructible, right? Surely they could go and fix it. They could save them all.

When they approached them with their request, one immediately nodded, while the other looked shocked.

"You can't go in there."

"Of course, I can."

"You will die!"

Everyone in the room looked taken aback. Surely they wouldn't die? Humans didn't die. That's what everyone said.

The human indeed shook their head.

"I'll be fine. And we will all die if no one goes in there."

"Oh, please, don't. Don't do this. Don't sacrifice yourself."

"I have to."

"I'll come with you!"

"You absolutely will not."

"But- but you need help!"

"I don't. And you know that as well as I do. Stay here. I'll go." The human stood up and went to leave.

"I'll go! Instead of you!"

"No!" Fast. Loud. Fierce. "It"ll be me." They went away.

Their friend tugged on their arm and tried to convince them to stay, but they just shook off their arm.

The captain was worried. Why were they arguing?

"Nothing will happen to them. Humans are indestructible, after all. Am I right?"

They just looked at the captain with tears in their eyes and stormed off, in the other direction as their crewmate.

A few hours later the brave human came back from their mission. It was successful. Everything was done. And without so much of a scratch at the humans body. They congratulated them, praised them. Even their human friend came back and hugged them, tightly, with still teary eyes.

The next days the humans spent a lot of time in their rooms, scarcely coming out, the one praised as their hero not eating well. They became weaker, day by day, while their friend stayed at their side, holding their hand and talking to them, even while they were asleep.

Of course, the crew worried, but they still believed, it was just exhaustion. After all, it was a difficult mission. And they saved all of their lives. They deserved the rest.

Until one day they heard sobbing. When they opened the door, they saw the human, laying on their friends body. Their still warm body, but without breath in their lungs and without a beat in their heart.

They were dead. Impossible.

Humans are indestructible.

"No!" The other human cried out loud, when they tried to take the body away. When they tried to touch them, when they tried to understand what happened. They were not injured. So why did they-

For a week, the other human didn't leave the room. Didn't talk to anyone. Didn't eat.

Everyone was worried. Would they lose them too? Was something happening to the humans? Maybe they were sick? A sickness even they couldn't survive?

But this human came back. Looking paler and older than before. But they came back alive.

Only then the captain dared to ask. "When you said, they'd die. You-"

"I meant it. It killed them. They went in, because you asked them. But it killed them."

"But I thought-"

"We are not. We never were. But they let you believe. Because they wanted to save us."

"Why didn't you tell us? We would have never let them go in there."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because it was either them or me."

#I just wrote this while I had free time in uni #it's something I guess #I am not a native english speaker so please forgive me for all mistakes #i don't even know #own writing #writing #writeblr #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities

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ilgaksu · 1 month

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some slides from that one time i made a dmbj powerpoint; wu xie, pingxie and iron triangle edition

#dmbj #dmbj powerpoint #own writing #i physically cannot remember if i posted any of this #or what i did if so #so mamma mia here we go again #i would really appreciate if anyone does want to make image descriptions for this linking me so i can reblog that version #rn i am in bed sick so it'll have to wait

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kuro4thegays · 3 months

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- Relaxation

[Word count: 2.9k] [Alhaitham x male reader] [Content: nsfw, slight angst, Alhaitham but with cat features(mostly just ears and a tail), overworked reader, researcher reader, massages, bath sex, frotting, in short: Alhaitham treating his husband after a long expedition in the desert]

“You’re late.”

Your husband's voice was the first thing that greeted you upon entering your house. His sharp feline eyes stared you down, expression akin to the inexpressive resting face of an actual cat. If it wasn't for the gentle sway of his tail that only seemed to raise up at your arrival you would have thought that he was mad at you.

You stumbled into the house, arms giving up and letting the bags ungraciously slip from your hold. “I’m sorry.” Your tongue moved faster than the rest of your body, immediately jumping to defend itself. “I knew that I was going to be away on a whole expedition, but I hadn't expected it to last this long.”

You looked up at the man opposing you, yet only found that his eyes weren't even looking up at yours, instead they pierced down through your body, examining your torn clothes in search of any injuries underneath while his pointy ears only dropped lower with each new finding. The desert was undeniably a hard place to explore, the wide stretch of nothingness occasionally broken by indescribably complex structures watched over by the raging sun was no fool’s land.

The sensation of sand in your shoes must have been driving you insane for at least a few hours, or at least one would assume that upon seeing the relieved expression that graced your face once you had taken them off. Your thighs felt like they have been suffocating under the tight material of your pants, the sweat making them stick to your legs like they were your second skin. You sure were quite the admirable researcher in the Akademiya, but field work really wasn't your strong suit.

“You also smell.” Alhaitham didn't even bother to hold any punches back, observing your every action with an attentive gaze. “You should probably eat something… and definitely take a bath.” He sat at the table, inviting you to do the same.

You, of course, did just that. “Not even a ‘hello’ or ‘how was the expedition’? Even an ‘oh, I hope my husband wasn't hurt’?” You pointed out.

“Were you?” Alhaitham's sharp ears perked up, the tail that was previously gently swaying back and forth now swinging from side to side in concern. He was always like this, face painfully inexpensive while his body did all the talking.

“Not much. Maybe a few bruises, a cut at worst.” You shrugged it off as your hand reached to grab a piece of the cooked fish laid on the plate in front of you. The leftovers felt cold upon meeting with your tongue, a cruel reminder of how late you actually were. “I know that I said this already… but I'm sorry. I told you that I'd be home a few hours ago, but the desert is an unpredictable place and-”

“I know.” Alhaitham's voice cut through your sentence, stopping you from falling into the trap of endless explanations and excuses before it was too late. It only mattered that you came home in one piece, even in your roughed up state. “But you have to eat everything on your plate while I prepare us a bath.”

“‘Kay, boss.” You said, words thickly coated with sarcasm. Alhaitham just gave you his signature ‘annoyed’ look before standing up and exiting the room.

You were now alone. Alone with the cooked corpses of fish, Alhaitham's favorite, in front of you and alone with your aching feet and the sunburn over your back that just wouldn't let down. You took a bite out of the fish's cold, yet soft, meat, its fragile bones snapping upon contact before being swallowed together with the rest of it. You repeat the action again, and then again, until the plate was left empty. Food was meant to be shared, at least you saw it that way, but today you came too late to share. Today Alhaitham waited for you with warm cooked food on the table, yet now you're eating that same food, cold for how long it was waiting for you.

“[name],” Alhaitham's voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. “The bath is ready.” He called out to you and before you could even find the words to respond he had already scooped up the empty plate and carried it to the sink. “Are you feeling okay?” His eyes met yours, sharp feline irises feeling like they were staring through your body and right into your being.

“I’m fine.” You finally got the chance to utter a few words out. “Just tired.” You got up to stretch your sore muscles before a pair of bulky arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. Alhaitham's hand found your chin, lifting it up to get unrestricted access to your neck before nuzzling his own scent glands into your skin, marking you as his. It was his usual method of relaxing, leaving what was basically a scent bomb of your neck while purring, using that deep voice of his to lull you into a state of pure bliss and tranquility like no one else could.

“I don't think you're being honest with me.” Alhaitham's hips rocked gently in soothing motion, guiding yours as he kept on nuzzling that warm spot on your neck while his fluffy tail wrapped around your soft thighs almost unconsciously.

“Why so clingy all of a sudden?” You asked a question of your own, averting the attention from Alhaitham's statement. Of course, Alhaitham was no fool and immediately noticed the tactic you were trying to pull off, yet instead of digging any deeper he settled for letting it go this time.

“I just don’t want you to spiral again.” Alhaitham's words reverberated in your ears, occupying your thoughts more than they were intended to.

Though the soft kiss he left on your ear certainly did bring your attention back to reality. “Oh, bath. Yeah.” You mumbled, escaping Alhaitham's grasp without putting up a fight. He simply sighed before leading you to the bathroom where the warm bath stood, waiting for someone to dive into the tranquil water. His hands expectedly moved to remove his clothing and you did the same with yours. The shirt came off in one swift motion, but your pants clearly wanted to put up a fight. You peeled them off like you would pieces of dead skin, the layers of sweat that had built up in the desert definitely not helping you. At last, you were left naked in the bathroom with your husband, throwing every single restraining piece of cloth in the hamper with a sigh of undeniable satisfaction. “Finally.”

Alhaitham noted the change in your attitude, yet did nothing to acknowledge it, instead his eyes seemed focused on something else. How could he think of anything else when faced with a red patch of clearly sunburned skin that spread over your back like paint poured over a flat canvas?

“Maybe I remember it wrong, but I’m pretty sure you hadn’t mentioned any sunburns when I asked you about what happened?” He retorted, hands gently creeping up your back to inspect the damaged skin. He was quick to notice how you faintly hissed at the lightest touch of his fingertips or how your shoulders tensed up with just a slight press.

“It’s not that bad. I can manage it.” You tried to cover up your quite readable body language with rational words, yet your husband had no problem shushing you with another press of his hand, proving you wrong in an instant. Maybe you could have acted a little better if it weren’t for the current circumstances, but the tiredness did not help your attempt at deception.

“Sure you are.” Alhaitham didn’t even bother to hide his sarcastic nature, moving his hand from the sunburn and down to inspect the bruises and cuts that were splattered around your body.

“We had an encounter with the Eremites.” You tried to defend yourself, afraid of seeing the kind of expression Alhaitham must have had. You knew that he wasn’t mad, he would never get mad over something like this, yet disappointment or even concern wasn’t something you wanted to be met with either. “No major injuries, not on me and not on any of the team members… just a few scratches.” You tried to hide the guilt and shame that flew through your body, yet wasn’t able to escape, holding in your breath to not let anything spill out.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Alhaitham’s hand finally drifted away, letting go of the issue so as to not overwhelm you after an already rough day. “Come, the bath will get cold.” He directed your attention back to the still warm bath he specifically prepared for you, only you. He took the first step, gesturing you to join him all while trying to keep the most of his fluffy fail out of the way, it was always a pain to dry.

You followed, placing both feet into the tub before descending into water, feeling warm as its heat enveloped you. The water levels only rose up further, the bubbles dancing on the surface, following the rhythm set by the water's motion. The air you have been holding in your lungs escaped through your lips, the shame and guilt dissolving into the water together with all the sweat that coated your body. “I was not meant for on-field research.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted the offer and rather stayed at home with me.” Alhaitham leaned in until his chest was firmly pressed against yours, moving his hands gently behind your back to scrub all the filth away without irritating the burn. His feline eyes were practically begging for your attention while still retaining that mysterious allure that attracted you to him all those years back. His ears pointed upwards, attentive to your every reaction to the slightest of touches. “Maybe then I wouldn’t need to be walking on eggshells while doing things as simple as washing your back.”

“Aw, admit it. You just missed me.” You cooed in response, the shrinking distance between you two allowing you to direct your attention to his sensitive ears. You wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck, not allowing him to even think for a moment about backtracking. And he had no problem with that.

“Yes, I do.” At this point why even try hiding it. His hands glided all the way from the back of your neck down along the path of your back carved out for him until they settled somewhere above your rear before repeating the process all over again. He was gentle yet meticulous when it came to your body, all its little secrets and history making the scholar remember what it was like to be young and thirsty for knowledge.

“You’re not even trying to deny it.” You hummed into his pointed ears, smirking to yourself at the subtle way his ears dropped only slightly. “I missed you too.” You couldn't hold your feelings back either. “I missed you really bad.” You swore you didn't mean to say it like that, yet the sudden shift in the mood brought by your honesty was undeniable.

He didn't hold back. Before you could take back what you said his lips were already all over yours. And that was for the better. You felt the slightest vibrations of his soft purring as his tongue tried to break into your mouth and you allowed him full access. His ears only dropped lower on his head, that combined with the intense purring telling you all you needed to know about where you were headed.

Alhaitham's hands moved up to your shoulders, massaging the sore spots before pushing you down so that you were conveniently placed below him. It took you no time to sense how warm his skin was becoming under your hands, it was starting to feel more like you were in a sauna than in your own bathroom. “My kitten is so needy today.” Unfortunately, the consequences of your words followed up in the matter of mere seconds after you had spoken them, served to you in the form of water being splashed directly in your face by none other than your own lover.

“Hey…” You rubbed the water out of your eyes, chuckling at your little antics while Alhaitham still wore that signature unamused expression that you just wanted to wash off of his face. “You're mean.” You considered throwing one of your attacks too, but that wouldn't help the image of a mature and scholarly young man you had build for yourself.

He shut you up with another heated kiss, pretending he hadn't heard any of your mindless teasing. His hands moved under the water levels, pinching your sensitive nipples between his thumb and index finger. The sensation made you let out a whimper that Alhaitham than gladly swallowed with grace. His tail moved slowly, almost hypnotically swinging from side to side as he bit down on your earlobe, purring turning into a sound that was closer to a growl.

Under the tranquil, soapy waters your dick stood up proud, only the blushing red tip poking out slightly from the water levels. Joining it, Alhaitham's cock was too found facing upwards and taking its own peek out from the water's surface, yet before you could even notice it your husband had already grabbed your shaft, pumping at a slow pace.

You didn't even have the time to figure out what exactly you were feeling before a soft moan escaped your lips on its own. That was enough for Alhaitham to know what he should do. He grabbed both his and your cock with one hand and made a few experimental strokes, looking up to catch the absolutely adorable way your face twisted in pleasure.

Yet you couldn't let him do all the work. No, you leaned in and attacked his poor ears with kisses, watching as they dropped down and twitched against your ministrations. It might have just been your excited brain making stuff up, but you swear you felt his member harden against you in response to your actions and the fact alone was enough to convince you to continue.

And Alhaitham hadn't stopped stroking for even a second all that time, accelerating at a continuous pace as your cocks molded together under the water. Yet even for someone as strong as him it became hard to stroke through the volumous water.

That’s why it was no surprise when he roughly grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up from the tranquility of the water and sitting you down on the edge of the tub. The sudden change of temperature certainly made you more sensitive and the way that you were biting your lip definitely didn’t help hiding it. Alhaitham was now standing up, his frame towering over your sitting one as the warm droplets of water trickled down his muscular body. Within seconds he has already gotten back into action, his tail possessively moving up your body and wrapping itself around you like a snake while he stroked both your cocks.

“Hah… ah.. gonna cum.” Your eyes fell shut, knees buckling as you took your last look at the man providing all this pleasure. If it wasn't the moaning that warned Alhaitham of your climax it certainly was the way your muscles tensed up or how your teeth that have been biting so hard on your bottom lip suddenly let go in place of a wide open mouth. Your voice raised in pitch just the moment before the explosion of your orgasm swept every last thought away, the sticky white cum spurting out of your dick, landing on your stomach. Unfortunately for you it so happened that Alhaitham needed to still be finished off, and so he continued the merciless pace while you could only squirm in overstimulation.

In a daze you tried to crawl back into the tub and to escape the feeling of the cold air brushing against your wet skin, but Alhaitham was there to hold you in place. Though your torture didn't last long before Alhaitham too shot his load onto your body, his bodily fluids mixing with yours until it became an inseparable substance, the liquid symbol of your love.

“‘m sorry.” He mumbled, though his words almost got lost in the series of pants that followed along. His tail was now nuzzling into your face, trailing under your nose as the little fluffy thing left its tiny hairs on your lips. Truly it was one of the most annoying habits of your husband, to shed his fur all over your body or the couch, but in the moment your brain was still stuck in the post-orgasmic fog so who really gave a shit.

Before you got the chance to crawl back into the tub, Alhaitham has already wrapped his hands around you and did all the heavy lifting, dragging you down with him back into the warm waters. Thankfully the water hadn't dropped much in temperature, otherwise you might have been left with a really unsatisfying conclusion.

“Sorry? I don't know, you don't look the part.” You pointed out with that drained chuckle of your's. You weren't exactly bustling with energy when you first got home and the orgasm must have been the last straw.

“I’ll wash you, ‘kay? Will that make you feel better?” He was quick to change the topic, yet you knew damn well where his intentions were.

“Apology accepted.”

[Writer's note: Overall wished I played more into the cat anatomy. Like it feels a bit too normal if you know what I mean, kind of like the cat features were an afterthought. I went back to try to add a bit more while staying close to the og plot (this is a rewrite of my older work so I already had a general outline of the plot). Overall pretty good if you asked me, but could use some improvements in the future. While I'm not usually into cat boys, It is just kinda funny to me that Alhaitham has all the personality traits of a spoiled cat so I made an exception with him. I have some plans for my next work that I talked about in some of my previous rambles, but honestly I don't know what I'll work on next. Maybe expect something with Kaveh? idk. That all. Bye-bye] [titles are hard]

#alhaitham x male reader #genshin x amab reader #alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x amab reader #own writing #archive

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suudonym · 9 months

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The very suggestion, though, was enough to change Asmodeus’s expression, to turn his confusion to indignation, to insult and to hurt. It was an expression that wanted for rebuttal, that denied what he had heard and promised to accept any explanation that would refute it.

because I enjoy drawing pain and misery just as much as I enjoy writing about it, I picked another scene from a little more like hell to have fun with

#a part of me wants to do an illustration for each chapter #and another part knows that I am a FOOL full of too much ambition and too little do-power #there's also a third part that's feeling embarrassed about shilling my own fic too much so that's also a factor #mairimashita! iruma kun #own artwork #own writing

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somethingsomethingwords · 7 months

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When Lance arrived in his room, he felt half dead.

In the ambulance they gave him liquids and sugar, but it somehow still didn't feel enough.

His clothes were stuck to his back, damp with sweat even after the shower, his skin hot and irritated red.

He slowly moved towards the bathroom, lights still off. There, he turned them on on the dullest setting and sat on the edge of the tub as lukewarm water started to fill it. He painfully undressed himself, careful not to aggravate the strain between his shoulder blades.

When he carefully sat in the tub, he let out a tired groan. He laid his head on the edge, and closed his eyes against the lights and the pain. He must have lightly nodded off, because he was startled by the knocks on the door. Lance couldn't be bothered to actually answer, so he just waited for whoever was knocking to just go away. Soon the sound stopped, but suddenly the buzz of his phone started. He groaned again, but answered anyway.

"Mhhhh?" was the sound that came out of his mouth, too tired for any real effort.

“You okay?" Asked a concerned voice that made Lance freeze for a second.

"Lance?" asked the voice with even more concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright, Fernando. What about you? You ok?"

Fuck, this personal moment of isolation, intended to be spent licking his metaphorical wounds, of course this was the moment Fernando had to play the role of the worried teammate.

Ok, that wasn't fair to the older man. He always seemed genuine when interacting with Lance, playful and funny in some moments, serious and sharp in others. Lance couldn't be mad at him. He just wasn't in the mood for company. He didn't want any witness to his well deserved, in his humble opinion, pity party.

“You still there?" the same voice again and again and again.

"Yes sorry, just a bit distracted. You were saying?"

"Nothing important, the burns will heal. You don't sound alright, though"

"Yeah, not really, just soaking in the tub and waiting for the strength to dry and go to bed. I think I was actually napping before your call"

"That why you didn't answer the door?"

"Oh, it was you? Sorry, couldn't really get up"

When he was done talking, the only sound he could hear for a couple seconds was the breath coming from his phone.

"Fernando, are you sure you're ok?"

"You fell asleep...Lance, that's incredibly dangerous!"

If before Fernando's voice was an ok company, now Lance was starting to be irritated by it. He wasn't a child, he knew the risks of his own actions.

"Haven't you heard? Apparently I'm a danger to others, so why not be one to myself?"

Lance was greeted by silence, as the words he just said rang into his own ears. Before he could apologise, the Spanish man spoke.

"Lance what do you mean?"

Lance sagged in the tub, feeling more tired than ever.

"Nothing Fernando, it's nothing, just in a bad mood. Sorry"

"Lance, I know you. I have seen you frustrated and angry, this is not it. What's going on?" asked Fernando, and Lance couldn't take it anymore. Slowly, salty tears started to fall from his eyes. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but he couldn't really hide his sobs from the other man.

"Lance, it's ok. Just open the door. We don't have to talk, but I want...I don't want you to be alone."

"Why, so that I don't do anything stupid?" He tensed, drying his cheeks and furiously rubbing his eyes, starting to feel too many emotions all at once, sadness and frustration and anger and guilt and a sense of general pointlessness.

"Because you deserve to not be. You deserve whatever you need in this moment, a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen to your struggles or simply someone close" his firm but gentle voice was starting to calm Lance.

Sighing, Lance relaxed his muscles.

"Give me two minutes."

"Take your time. I'll wait" And what was that supposed to mean? But Lance didn't have the brain power to ponder about it, so he hummed and hung up. He rose from the tub and, carefully stepping out, started to dry himself. When he was satisfied, he unplugged the tub, almost fixating on the water swirl, but he had clothes to put on and a complicated teammates situation to solve. He put on a simple pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, once again thankful for the AC that cooled the room down.

When he opened the door, Fernando was leaning on the opposite wall, calm and patient, black pajama pants and an unzipped hoodie on top of a simple black t-shirt. Lance really didn't know what to think, so he simply let him in.

Lance's bare feet sang because of the textured carpet, but his legs almost gave out, weighted by his tiredness, so he decided to sit on the couch as normally as possible, heavily leaning the small of his back on its arm and his head on the back of it, hunched over his raised knees. Normal, see?

"So..." he didn't want to feel awkward, but couldn't help himself. What do you say to a legend that is your teammate and is showing real (or deep faked) concern, who you have a totally-platonic-not-at-all-romantic crush on and were also deeply convinced that hung around only because paid or, even worse, forced to? Yeah, Lance didn't know either, so awkward silence it was.

"Have you drunk?" Right, because Lance was incapable of being responsible, ok then.

"Yes, I have. Now you can leave."

The rollercoaster of emotions was draining him after all that went down on the track. He just wanted to curl up in a ball on his bed, cry if he could find the strength, and then sleep. But the other man seemed to have other plans. He nodded, then went to the kitchen, taking off his hoodie and throwing it on the first chair available, and started filling up two glasses. When he returned, he sat on the other side of the couch and offered him one of them, whilst drinking the other.

Grabbing it, Lance had to grudgingly admit that he was thirsty, so he slowly drank without making eye contact. There had to be a limit to the awkward silence and the embarrassing situations, right? Wrong.

Soon after finishing his glass, Fernando slipped closer to Lance. The Canadian couldn't look at him, so he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his right knee.

"Lance, I understand if you don't want to talk, really do. But I'd prefer if you allowed me to be here with you" his tone was so sickeningly sweet that it made something in Lance snap.

"And I'd rather pref..." he started angrily, but couldn't even finish the sentence because his eyes landed on the bandages on Fernando's right arm: they started just under his elbow, and disappeared beneath the short sleeve of his t-shirt.

"What the fuck happened?" asked Lance, suddenly panicking and unfurling from his previous position to gently take a hold of Fernando's hand, studying the bandages and carefully turning the arm to get a better look. He was so preoccupied with his scrutiny that he didn't notice how the other man was looking at him, expression soft and open, endeared by his cat-like teammate: prickly, fast mood changes, in need of some affection but too stubborn to ask for it or even accept it once freely given.

Fernando simply shrugged, without disturbing Lance's hold.

"The car wasn't properly sealed. I have some first degree burns, but nothing serious."

When Lance deemed the situation under control, he finally realised that he was holding Fernando's hand. He started blushing furiously, quickly releasing it, but when he tried to move his left hand away, that's when Fernando himself caught it and tightly gripped it, keeping him in place.

Lance met the older man's gaze, intense and sharp.

A few seconds passed, silence engulfing them.

With a tired sigh, Lance collapsed on the back of the couch, hand still held.

"Fernando, what do you want, honestly? Why are you here?"

"I already told you, I just don't want you to be alone. Because I'm old, and I'm selfish and I can't bear to see you hurt and alone."

These were words Lance had never expected to be directed to him, even less by Fernando. But he couldn't deny his presence was comforting. So he chose the path of least resistance: he leaned to his right and put his forehead on his teammate's left shoulder, trying to be delicate about it, but when a hand sneaked in his hair, starting massaging his skull, he completely melted.

"I can't talk, not right now. Tomorrow, if you're still interested..."

"I'll be here, just waiting for you. Now sleep, gatito"

As if been given his last order, Lance felt himself fall asleep without a care in the world, leaving an even more endeared Fernando to massage his back, watching him carefully and swearing to himself to be by his side for as long as possible.

#lance stroll #fernando alonso #strollonso #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #own writing #this is just part 1 tbh

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willknightauthor · 1 year

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A BREATH IN THE DARK

#writing #poetry #poem #own writing #love poem #romance #love #outer space #nature #anapaestic tetrameter #blank verse #anapaest

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wordsbyicarus · 10 days

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cement sadness

sadness sits like cement in my throat

with no way out

nothing can dissolve it

one day i'll drown on it

as it seeps into my lungs

-i

#poetry #thoughts #words #spilled ink #own poetry #spilled poem #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled words #sad poem #late night poetry #late night thoughts #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #poem #original poem #own writing

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noythe · 6 months

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The sequel I finished before 4.2 dropped 😩 He's not leaving my brain anytime soon.

#neuvillette x reader #fluff #genshin impact #genshin #Neuvillette #fanfic #own writing #Wriothesley

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teejaystumbles · 2 years

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Hob hates France. Blood, mud, screams and the clang of swords are all he has known for so long now, he wonders if there’s anything else left in this world. Hob hates it. The problem is, he is good at this mercenary business. He’s good at it. It fills his pockets and his belly, and maybe he can go back to England soon. In the few moments he allows himself to daydream he thinks about that night at the tavern –

“Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling, in this Tavern of the White Horse, in one hundred years.”

He had never seen the man before, nor in the months after, but something about him had felt strangely familiar. Hob feels like having met him before, maybe dreamed of him. Now, here, in the mud and guts, that night sure feels like a dream. A glint of steel catches his eye and Hob flinches back. A sword cuts along his cheek, only barely missing his eye. A searing line of pain draws across his face and ear and Hob curses, fighting off the attacker. That’s what daydreams get you, he thinks, annoyed, as he dispatches the enemy’s head easily, showing him how it’s done. That night, Hob dreams of the battlefield. He is surprisingly lucid enough to be annoyed that even in his dreams he gets to see nothing else. Even the wound on his face is there.

“Can I not get a break from this?” “Is this not your chosen profession?” a dark figure beside him asks.

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I like bathing in blood all the time. Can’t I even dream of something nice for once?” Hob answers, accepting the other as a normal part of all this, like one is wont to do in dreams. “I, I know that we dream mostly of every-day stuff and that’s normal, I get it. But if I have to dream of things I saw, why not that pretty posh bloke from the tavern? He was a sight for sore eyes.”

“Is that so?”

The other steps in front of him and the world tilts. Hob stares, losing his balance in a sudden sense of vertigo.

“It’s not been a hundred years yet, Robert Gadling.” The man (man?) before him is the same one from the White Horse, yet somehow he is much, much more than what Hob remembers. Stars are swirling in his hair and in his eyes and the edge of his robes is made of flames. Hob recognizes the ruby on the stranger’s chest. A nobleman, he had thought, haughty, stupid, recklessly showing off his wealth. But now Hob realizes his mistake. In awe, he sinks to one knee. “You’re a king.” The man inclines his head and says nothing. Hob swallows and makes a decision. He pulls his sword and holds it handle up before him. The words burn in his throat as he pushes them out: “Will you be my king?”

And, after an eternity, in the roiling smoke of the battlefield and the star-filled night, the king extends a bone-white hand in acceptance.

#I said I'd do it #I couldn't stop and just sat at this for the whole day #own art #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman fanart #own writing #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes #teejaystumbles

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ilgaksu · 2 months

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never a god (mysterious lotus casebook, post-canon, genderfluid li lianhua)

@difeisheng is a filthy enabler and my mum told me to tell them i can't have discord sleepovers with them anymore. they're also writing a ficlet in the same series and i'll link to it in this post when it's up!

The evening shift at the House of Scarlet Delights starts out just like any other. Li Xianghua wakes late in the afternoon, eats at the long table in the kitchen with the others, crowded in amongst girls still in sleep-clothes and others already fully made up for the night’s work, hair ornaments shimmering against each other like enamelled butterflies. Li Xianghua is tired, but it’s a familiar kind of tired. Still, he keeps his head down and eats. He inhales porridge with ginger and chili oil and lets his brain meander; painless, like floating. His body aches.

“Huahua,” Xiao-mei asks, startling him. “Sorry! Huahua, do you have a comb I can borrow?”

Her eyes are huge and pleading, round like a little animal’s. All of Xiao-mei is round to match, small and plump and plush with a matching mouth, and wildly, wildly popular with customers. She makes herself very hard to resist. Even as she speaks, she is always reaching out, twining some of Li Xianghua’s hair around her fingers. Against the fresh pink of them - Xiao-mei is barely twenty - the cold brittle white of his hair, like frost on an immortal’s mountain, is stark. Not for the first time, Li Xianghua feels old around her. Had he been so bright back then, too? No wonder Shan Gudao couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Stop bothering Xianghua,” Weiwei snaps, from the kitchen doorway, frown etched on her face like iron, fan in her fingertips like Li Xianghua might have held a sword. “You know she’s had a long week, and here you are, hanging all over her like she’s your own mother. Have you no shame?”

“But I missed her,” Xiao-mei whines, “And she always lends me things when I ask. Not like you, Weiwei.”

Weiwei sighs, crossing her arms and flipping the long braids of her hair over her shoulder. Even years of life in the Central Plains haven’t done their work to erase the signs of her first home from her; she still dresses like a girl from the plains, albeit one laden in jewellery. Weiwei purses her lips as she says, “Li Xianghua lends you her things when you ask so you’ll go away and stop bothering her.”

Li Xianghua’s lips, despite himself, twitch. Weiwei, looming over Xiao-mei’s head, winks at him, so fast it could be denied, before dropping back into her ice princess act.

“That’s not true is it, Huahua?” Xiao-mei demands, eyes now enormous. Li Xianghua inhales the last of the porridge, lips stinging with chili oil, and stands. In a previous life, he had to dodge girls like this all day. The dance doesn’t get any less tiring, especially when they’re sweet like she is.

“I’ll give you the comb in a second,” is all he says. “I have to go get my flute now. We’re about to open.”

He escapes. In his room - compact, not quite cramped, dominated by the bed, the chest of belongings, prone to steam from the girls’ bathhouse below entering through the open window but therefore always nearly warm - he dresses quickly, kneels and opens the chest. Inside, the flute is wrapped in a piece of red marbled silk, like the veins on a man just before he becomes corpse. The flute itself is beautiful, fixed along a distinct break right through it, like a newly fused bone. But the memory of the wound will always be there. Both of these things, silk and instrument, are from men before Li Xianghua became a dead man to them, each for a second time, and now, what is he? In the polished bronze of the mirror on a low table nearby, pushed right back against the wall and partially obscured by a medicine chest, he catches a glimpse of himself: hair fever-white, robes a dark green like mulch, and face painted like a heroine in a story.

The story is over, and what he is, is what is left alive.

He selects a comb at random from the splay of them on the table and leaves.

And so, the first hour is peaceful. Usual, even. Xiao-mei is embarrassingly grateful, even holds her breath as Li Xianghua helps fit the teeth of it firmer into her hair. Li Xianghua ignores this. Li Xiangua focuses on his work. He kneels on a dais at one end of the main room, head bowed, and plays for the incoming flux of customers, all lilting songs that suggest yearning over satisfaction. It helps encourage them to stop drinking and go upstairs. This, too, is peaceful; usual. Li Xianghua focuses on his breathing and the music and the world melts around him, and then he gets paid for it. It’s a good life, as they go.

However, once that first hour passes, this - the music, the brothel, the sanctuary - is interrupted, when a man in lilac, shimmering robes and hair tied up high and away from his face strides in, still no subtlety about him in sight. There is shock, certainly, but then comes with it an immediate wave of resignation, so much more muted than dread. What is a shadow meant to do in the face of unyielding light but dissolve? It’s the way of things. Li Xianghua watches, resisting the urge to laugh or scream or distract or sprint away, any of it, anything at all, as the man, still boyish about the face with it too, reaches into his robes and removes a wooden badge.

“My name,” he says, voice as clear as a bell and just as headache-inducing in prolonged succession, “is Fang Duobing, and I’m a detective of Baichuan Court. I’m here to investigate the disappearance of Cai-daren's son.”

Li Xianghua resists the urge to roll his eyes. He keeps them half-down, instead, inspecting up from beneath his eyelashes. He shifts one hand, slightly, to try and cover the mended crack in the flute. But something about the minute movement must alert Fang Duobing, because he turns like a fox scenting blood, stares directly at Li Xianghua. He blinks. He gapes. His gaze drops to the flute, fixes for a deadly beat, and then rises back to Li Xianghua’s face. He tries to make a sound, but no sound comes, the bell cut out or cut down or shattered on the spot, and Li Xianghua, Li Xianghua who was twice a dead man but only, until this moment, once resurrected, looks back at him and thinks -

Well, fuck.

[read this on ao3]

[read ash's ficlet here]

#own writing #mlc #mysterious lotus casebook

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kuro4thegays · 2 months

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- Dr. Ratio nsfw alphabet -

[Veritas Ratio x gn!reader] [Originally written with male reader in mind, but there is no mention of genitalia so I think it can work for any gender. I tried to provide both something for top and bottom reader so everyone can get something out of this. The reader is assumed to be in a long term relationship with Veritas]

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Veritas can be really romantic. Initially, he doesn’t want either of you to pull away at all, just to nuzzle each other while your bodies stay intertwined in such an intimate fashion. Though if you really need it he’ll get up immediately to get you some water or snacks or really anything you need. Depending on the time of day you also might be expecting a bath, massages too.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Not a specific body part, but likes how proportional and symmetrical his body is as a whole. This guy is literally named Dr Ratio, leave me alone. On you though, I think he likes your face. Basic answer, but I really can't see it any other way. Definitely likes tracing the contours of your face when bored, studying it like an ancient sculpture. Oh, and I guess it's pretty hot how your face twists in pleasure while you're doing it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If he's topping he likes to cum inside, otherwise cumming all over you is the second best. I feel like he wouldn't be a fan of cumming all over himself so if bottoming he'll like to do it either on the bed or if possible somewhere on you. My man also probably likes fruits, that's what gives his cum a sweet-ish taste, definitely not the sugary sweet kind though, the earthy natural sweet.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely wants to do it in a very natural space, like a lake or something. That primal feeling, miles away from the rationality he exudes usually, really gets him going, but he's too afraid of someone walking in and ruining the moment to actually do it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Virgin. Most of his life he probably had that kind of mindset that it's probably not worth it getting involved with someone else when he has everything he needs here. Still thinks that way, but now has you to keep his balls empty.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Loves lifting you off the ground, gotta show those muscles off. You just wrap around him so snugly and your faces are so close to each other it takes no effort just to start making out while pounding into you. Doesn't mind being lifted up himself either, especially if you're squeezing his ass while doing so, has and will attack your face with kisses. Other than that he likes anything where you two are face to face just in general.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Very serious. Because of how little experience he has and how little people he has let see him this way he probably takes it as an extremely important bonding time so don't expect any jokes or laughs from him. Though he won't be mad if you're into the more casual kind, hell, he’ll let you try getting a laugh out of him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Extremely well groomed. He's a neat freak, man loves baths and goes nuts when he sees a single dirty spot on his book, he's well capable of keeping himself clean. No hair out of place and all, if he even has any on his lower body.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Said it already, but he takes sex very seriously. Slow and sensual is his thing. Makes it a whole ritual, lighting candles, maybe using some rose petals that he likes putting into his baths, massaging your back, everything to make you feel absolutely refreshed afterwards and ultimately make you feel closer to each other at the end.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it that often, but when he does it's most likely during the morning shower. Though, unfortunately, if he has the displeasure of having another bath without his lover he might have to rub one out alone in there too.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise and degradation are a must with this man. Just state your preference, or do both if you’re into it, and he’ll already be running his mouth even before you start. Body worship is also a big thing for him. With his marble statues you can assume that he at least must love his own body and something tells me that he’ll be equally if not more obsessed with his lover's one.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Not into risky stuff, he has a reputation to keep. Maybe you can suck him off under his work desk with all the doors locked, but that's where it ends. Maybe bathhouses, but only if you have a reserved room or smth. Though when it comes to your private adobe nothing is off the table. The bed, bathtub, over the counter, against the wall, he isn't too picky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Not hard to get him in the mood. Loves how open you are with him and if you ask him nicely he’ll already feel motivated. Just seeing you so needy and wanting him makes him feel special, like he is the only one who you would run up to with something so intimate. Expect him to tease you about it though.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has to do with risking his reputation, no public sex or exhibitionism. Threesomes are also a no for him, not with someone he knows and definitely not with a stranger. He has made it clear that you're the only one who he wants to experience this kind of intimacy with.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He was definitely a little weirded out at the start. Don't get me work, he knew how it's done and what it meant, he isn't that innocent, but the thought of actually doing just felt gross to him. Of course, that's where you came(in more ways than one) in. Unfortunately for you, he is a fast learner. Now oral is his favorite way to open up a long night session with you. It doesn't take much preparation, so expect him to wake you up using his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

My guy likes to take his time. He sees sex like he sees his baths, a way to cleanse the body of all its filth, so sometimes it really does feel like you're making love instead of having sex. He just finds himself dissatisfied with the fast and rough methods that just dry him out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It might seem surprising after I talked so much about him taking his time, but I don't think he actually minds quickies that much. Though he doesn't like making a routine out of them, sure a quickie is good once in a while to relieve some stress, but he doesn't want it to spoil sex for him entirely. He likes them most during the morning showers.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

While he doesn't want to take any risks with his reputation, he certainly doesn't mind doing risky stuff behind closed doors. How are you supposed to see the results without any experimentation?

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he can go for plenty. My man is beefy and all that muscle isn't just for show. The thing is, one round for him already takes a while so expect to be spent and thoroughly satisfied. Not that he doesn't mind going again, he's just wondering if you can keep up.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have a lot of toys but he definitely doesn't mind using some on you or you using some on him. Keep in mind though, if you allow him he can get pretty ruthless with them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Definitely a huge tease, refuse to believe otherwise. Going to go further into it in a moment, but my guy is talkative. Nothing you do will go unnoticed and everything you do will be commented on. Also teasing with his actions. That one extra button left unbuttoned was specifically left there to cause a reaction from you. Will deny you orgasm if you're into that. He loves the power all the things listed above give him and the feeling of being desired really gets him going. You could inflate his ego even more or even try to shut that pretty mouth yourself.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don't know if this is a hot take but I think that he might get more vocal once he is with someone he trusts. Definitely won't hide his voice from you when he sees you getting more aroused, might as well use it to tease you. Oh, and he's definitely a talkative one. Expect lots of comments between those sweet groans and moans of his.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Massages are his favorite form of foreplay. Be it during baths with all his fancy soaps and oils or in bed after an exhausting day, it's a very intimate, but not necessarily sexual, way to relax the body and he needs your body to be relaxed if he wants to proceed with more intense stuff. Doesn't mind receiving a massage either, though he is mostly the one giving them he can't deny himself the pleasure of your hands worshiping his muscles.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is a big man, what do you expect? No, but for real, it matches his size. Every part of him is proportional. Always cleanly shaven and well groomed and only has a few subtly visible veins just below the head. Cut and colored with a pinkish blush on the very tip.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not that high. He keeps himself intellectually occupied most of the time. Though he can get turned on pretty quickly when his partner initiates.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I imagine most of your steamy encounters happen at the end of the day so he already feels pretty drained. That orgasm is probably the last push for him before going to bed, assuming that all of your needs are taken care of first.

[Just something quick to deliver while I'm working on something bigger to keep you all well fed]

#hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #dr ratio x male reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x amab reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x male reader #veritas ratio x amab reader #own writing #archive

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suudonym · 7 months

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“…That doesn’t sound very ‘fine’ to me.”

this conversation from the recent chapter of my fic possessed me and I couldn't rest until I put it into images. what I learned from the whole experience is that if I were a manga artist I would simply perish

as a bonus here's the ref I doodled beforehand so I'd draw the outfit consistently:

(it's literally just the tracksuit they wore during the music festival prep. seemed appropriate.)

#if you ever see me do anything like this ever again please take it as a sign that there is not even a shadow of a marble left on my person #I don't even wanna TALK about that forest panel. idk how anyone does this shit.#mairimashita! iruma kun #own artwork #own writing

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dominimoonbeam · 3 months

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To The Edge - 1

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 1.

The ship descended through the thick cloud cover, shuddering against the onslaught of weather it was never built for. Pink lightning streaked outside the curved window and alarms chimed and blinked across his flight panel.

Gritting his teeth, Rory pushed on, dropping lower and cringing at the sound of atmosphere clawing across his ship, rattling the metal and plastic that had kept him alive for nearly a decade. It was louder than anything he was used to in space, almost too loud to bear until they finally broke through the edge of a storm. Rain pelted the ship for the first time in cycles. He shouldn’t have gone that long between visits to settlements, but it was easy to stay away. It was easy to stay out in the great swaths of in between, and his reasons to go to land had run far and few.

A strong roll of wind tried to push him off course. There was something exciting about flying in atmosphere, not that he would ever admit it. Space was where excitement lived, everyone knew that.

The rain continued.

His course was lit up in neon yellow on the plastic windshield, leading him to the agreed spot for the trade.

Rory hated ransoms.

They were often messy in the worst ways.

The lush jungle below gave way to a valley of gray stones and pebbles. By the time he landed, he could almost see the edge of the ocean on the horizon. The rain had dwindled to a mist, blurring his view from the bridge. With a tap at the console, the view changed, no longer a window at all but a screen giving him outlines and heat signatures.

The pirate jet was waiting.

He set his ship to self-defense mode and coupled it to his optic implant so that any alerts or signals would come up in his vision. They had agreed to meet just the two ships. He would come alone and upon proof that they had the missing Primer, he would make the trade on behalf of their family. It was simple.

Most ransoms sounded simple, but they rarely worked out that way.

Rory checked his guns, slid them back into their holsters on his hips, and then walked off the bridge.

He moved through his ship, to the modest cargo hold and the door.

He winced at the shift of air. There was always a second’s hesitation to breathe and then another few of accepting that particular cocktail of atmosphere as good enough. This settlement smelled like iron and salt, burning the back of his throat, and the air was too wet for comfort, making him feel half-drowned with every breath.

Trying not to sulk, he marched out into the mist-filled, chilly wind, the pebbled ground shifting under his boots.

With a silent command over his optic implant, his ship locked down. There was no way he was going to give pirates the chance to steal from him. They had come for a ransom but there was no promise they wouldn’t change their minds if they saw another opportunity. Although, considering the size of their payday for this one Primer, he doubted they were thinking about anything else.

If they’d known who they really had, they could have asked for even more.

But if they’d known who they had, even pirates might have been too smart to try.

When Rory neared the three figures, he smiled, despite the state of things. His bounty wasn’t looking great, but at least they were on their own two legs. Their wrists were cuffed and they had a hood over their head. Their clothes were torn and filthy with spots of dried blood down their front.

“This is them? Take the damn hood off. I’m not paying the ransom until I confirm it’s them,” Rory pressed, like he did this every day and it was getting old.

One of the pirates, almost young enough to make him feel bad for them—like their choices hadn’t been all their own and this wasn’t the spot they’d chosen to stand in—curled a lip like they might decline the order. It was probably something like instinct for a pirate to defy a command. They came from all parts of the galaxy, from all walks of life, drawn to that life for a hundred different reasons. Aside from a penchant for neon and cruelty, the only common thread Rory had noticed among them was how young they always looked. He supposed they never lasted long enough to look older than twenty. The pirate bared teeth at him but grabbed the hood and pulled it off the bounty. “There. Just as promised.”

Rory’s smile died. The bounty looked scared. They were trying to clench their jaw, like it would keep it from trembling. Their lip was busted and scabbed over, a trail of blood crusted down their chin, and a deep bruise was blooming over the side of their face in overlapping petals of purple, brown, and yellow. Their hair was a tangled mess falling over the other half of their face, with big, dark eyes staring back at him. “You didn’t have to rough them up. You knew their family would send someone,” he said to the pirates but hadn’t broken eye contact with the Primer yet.

They stared at him like they knew him. Like he had wronged them before, and they had known he’d be coming again this time. Only that wasn’t possible. Really, this Primer was staring at the whole galaxy in his eyes, like the whole damn thing had been out to get them and it was all inevitable. Despite that, despite all that tired scorn, somehow Rory knew they weren’t done fighting either.

One of the pirates shrugged and he forced himself to look away from the rich kidnappee. The other pirate was still scowling. They could have been twins for how similar they looked, the same leather jackets smeared in glowing paint and the same wild pink hair. They were the same height with the same mouth. Definitely related. “They gave us trouble,” the grumpy one explained.

“Trouble?” Rory barked, waving an arm at the Primer in question. They were hardly an imposing figure. “How much trouble could they have been?”

The smiley one and the frowning one traded expressions. It was startling to see.

“They shot one of ours when we took their ship and they’ve been difficult ever since. Broke Brit’s arm and bit a chunk out of Harl. They’re lucky we didn’t muzzle them,” said one of the pirates. Rory had lost track of which was which when they started trading expressions. Maybe they were twins…

He looked at the bounty anew, not surprised exactly but pleased to hear it. “Really? Well, good for them. But I should take a few thousand off for that fat lip.”

“We set the price. You pay it and you get to deliver them alive,” one snapped, gun in hand and waving between Rory and the Primer.

Rory didn’t balk. “Oh, I don’t get to negotiate?” He took a step closer, raising his voice in indignation. “I’m just the idiot sent out to the edge of fucking space, where there’s nothing but asshole pirates like you, to handle the tradeoff. Right? Because you really think families like theirs send polite errand boys to deal with shit like this?” He gestured in big sweeps of his arm as he spoke—to them, to the sky, and to the pebble wet valley all around them. “My ship is nice, but you really think I just zipped that thing across the quad in a couple days? I swear, every year you pirates get dumber.” He took a deep breath and another step, dropping his voice in the attempt to be reasonable. “It’s not your fault. You never live long enough to learn anything. Do you want some advice? I know you won’t take it, because you won’t have time, but one of the many rules of crime in space is know who you mess with.”

The pink twins stared at him, one with wide-eyed surprise and the other with narrow irritation.

Rory’s smile turned cruel. He could feel it and taste it on his own words. “You have no idea who you kidnapped, do you?”

He shot them both before they could lift their weapons, the blasts echoing across the valley and pebbles jostling in all directions as they fell.

The bounty flinched, curling forward and raising those bound hands in a last effort to shield themself.

And then they were off, making a run for…where were they even going? The ocean?

Rory laughed even though he tried not to, chasing after them. “Woah! Woah. Hang on. Don’t run.”

He caught up easily. They had no shoes and the terrain was not kind. He tried to grab their arm, but they shoved him off and spun to face him, panting. At least they’d stopped. He held his hands up and slowly holstered his gun for them to see. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. The nearest settlement is run by criminals and you’re still in handcuffs. Your family hired me to get you back and that’s what I’ll do, okay? I’ll get you home.”

They dragged a few breaths, shaking either from the cold or the adrenaline. “Promise?” they coughed the word.

“Promise?” he laughed, thrown by how fragile it sounded on their tongue. He hadn’t expected that. In fact, he’d either been expecting them to be crying up a storm or commanding him to drawn them a bath. “Yeah. Yeah, I promise, Stardust.” Why not?

They looked around, like maybe they’d find another option out there in the middle of nowhere.

He chanced a step closer. “Let’s get back to my ship, we’ll get out of here and I’ll patch you up. You look like you might faint…”

They shuffled a step back. “Don’t make fun of me.”

At least they were moving in the right direction, though he wasn’t entirely sure they realized it. “I’m not making fun of you.” He held out an arm, offering his hand.

Stardust curled a lip, eyes a little unfocused.

Rory raised an eyebrow, watching them carefully, arm still out. “Are you sure you can walk to the ship?” He cracked a smile. “Do you want a piggyback?”

Despite looking like they were on the edge of consciousness, the Primer shot back, “Go fuck yourself!”

Laughter burst from his lungs, his smile making his cheeks ache. “I’m going to write that mouth off as a concussion, Stardust. Although having you swear at me while lisping on that busted lip is pretty damn cute.”

They flipped him off again but started walking. It was more of an amble, cutting side to side rather than moving in a straight line. They were stubborn. That had probably served them well during this last week.

Rory was pleasantly surprised. Not only was his bounty alive and in one piece, but they seemed determined to stay that way without as little help from him as possible. “Did you really shoot one of them when they snatched you?” he asked, a few paces behind and keeping an eye out for other pirates.

“You just shot two of them, didn’t you?” they snapped.

“Yeah, I did shoot two of them. I’m not saying you were wrong to do it. I’m impressed. I bet those pirates were real fucking surprised when they cut open the hatch on that shiny jet of yours and found you pointing a gun at them.”

Stardust glanced back at him. “You found it?”

“Your jet? Oh, no, they pulled that thing apart and sold it for parts by the next day. I did get my hands on the logs though. Looked like you gave them a hell of a run before they blew your engine out.” It had been a very expensive jet. He wasn’t the least bit surprised the pirates went after it. No one flew anything that chrome this deep, not unless they had the guns to back it up.

Stardust stopped walking.

“What were you doing in that sector, anyway? Not really the posh neighborhood…” Rory stopped and looked at them. They were dragging deep breaths and staring up at the sky. “Stardust? You okay? What are—oh shit.” He ran for them when their legs buckled, sliding in the pebbles to get his hand under their head before their skull could hit the ground. “Damn it.”

He scooped them up, kicking rocks to get back to his feet with his bounty in his arms. They were worth a fortune.

He unlocked the ship with a thought when he neared, using the commands over his implant to open the door and start the engines. They needed to get distance from the dead pirates, and he needed to make sure the Primer didn’t die on his ship.

Already he knew that if they did, he’d have to frame the pirates for it.

The last thing he needed was to get caught with Stardust Solinoh Fairvell Malou’s corpse.

He carried them into the tiny med room of his ship and laid them on the padded cot, buckling them down. “Don’t die,” he said and then gave them a sedative because he wasn’t sure what would happen if they woke up strapped down to the bed. They’d barely agreed to let him rescue them in the first place…

Rory bolted for the bridge and jumped into his chair. He took off from Luna Eris like death was scratching at his haul. He just needed his passenger to stay unconscious until he was off world, then he’d be able to set the course, turn on autopilot, and patch them up.

#ride or die in space #to the edge #defying gravity series #the adventures of stardust and cosmic #own work #romance #own writing #clover down #dominimoonbeam #<3

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