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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

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Skin and Bones

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.

Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing

Based of this ask

The teasing had become a common occurrence.

It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.

Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.

He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.

Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.

You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.

And that was saying something.

"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."

Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.

"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.

Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."

Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."

Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.

"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"

"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."

Mari was right. You did look incredible.

Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.

With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.

They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.

Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?

Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.

Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."

"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.

"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."

"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.

"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."

That's it. Y/N.

Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.

But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.

"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."

Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."

"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."

Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."

A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.

Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.

Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.

She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.

Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.

Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.

"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"

It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.

Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."

"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.

It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"

His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."

Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."

You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.

His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"

You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.

It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.

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scientia-rex · 6 months

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Wound Care

Ok so, take this with a BIG grain of salt, because I may be a medical doctor BUT you need to know how much wound care training we get in medical school: none. Zip. Zilch. There may be medical schools where you do, but mine wasn't a bozo factory and there was NO wound care training. Everything I know I learned from one of several sources: an intensive 2-day wound care course I did in residency (highly recommend), the local Home Health wound care nurse (highly recommend), a completely batshit insane old white male doctor who started our learning sessions by yelling Vietnam War stories at me (do not recommend), a hospital wound care nurse (highly recommend), and experience (oh god do not recommend).

The first thing you need to know is that wound healing varies dramatically across the course of a lifespan. Kids? Kids will heal. If they don't, get their ass to a pediatrician because there's something genetic going on. Young adults will heal. Middle-aged adults will heal. You know who doesn't heal for shit? The elderly, and people with severe illnesses, and people with uncontrolled type II diabetes.

Your body needs several things in order to heal. It needs macronutrients, so you need to be able to EAT protein, fat, and carbs. If you are on total parenteral nutrition, aka TPN, aka IV nutrition, you are going to be worse at healing. If you are starving yourself, you are going to be worse at healing. If your body is desperately funneling all the calories you take in to surviving your COPD or cancer, you are going to be worse at healing.

It also needs micronutrients. If your diet sucks, you won't heal. Take a multivitamin once in a while.

There are two CRITICAL skin components to healing: collagen and elastin. Guess what we stop making as we age. Promoting collagen isn't just good for "anti-aging," it's good for NOT ripping your skin apart. Taking oral collagen is probably bullshit because your body is going to have to disassemble it to get it across the intestinal membranes to absorb, but it's also harmless, and if your diet REALLY sucks, who knows. Give it a try. Collagen is made of amino acids; think protein.

Another absolutely crucial component is blood flow. As people age, they start to develop cholesterol plaques lining arteries that eventually pick up calcium deposits. This makes blood vessels less elastic, which is a problem, but eventually also blocks them off, which is a much bigger problem. If someone has the major blood flow to their feet decreased by 90% by arterial stenosis, they are not going to heal for shit AND their foot's gonna hurt.

One component of blood flow I hadn't thought about before going into medicine is fluid retention. The way your body works, blood exits the heart at a very high velocity, but slows to a crawl by the time it gets into capillaries, the smallest blood vessels in the body. Water is a very small molecule and can leave the blood vessel, especially if there aren't big, negatively-charged molecules like proteins like albumin in the blood vessels to hold the water there. And we're built for this--some water is supposed to leak out of our blood vessels when it gets to real little vessels. It gets taken back up by the lymphatic system and eventually dumped back into the bloodstream at the inferior vena cava. But if you aren't making albumin--for instance, in liver failure--you may leak a LOT of fluid into the tissue, so much that your legs get swollen, tight, the skin feeling woody and strange. This isn't fixable by drainage because the fluid is everywhere, not in a single pocket we can drain. And because it puts so much pressure on the tissues of the skin, it often results in ulcers. Congestive heart failure, liver failure, kidney failure--these are all common causes of severe edema, aka swelling due to fluid in the tissues. And they're a real bitch when it comes to wound care, because we have such limited resources for getting the fluid back out, which is a necessary first step to healing.

Pressure is another common cause of wounds. Pressure forces blood out of those little capillaries, so you starve the cells normally fed by those capillaries, and they die. It's called pressure necrosis. Very sick people who can't turn themselves over--people in the ICU, people in nursing homes--are especially prone to these wounds, as are people with limited sensation; pressure wounds are common in wheelchair users who have lost some feeling in the parts of their bodies that rub against those surfaces, or diabetics who don't notice a rock in their shoe.

So, if you're trying to treat wounds, the questions to ask are these:

Why did this wound happen?

-Was it pressure? If it's pressure, you have to offload the source of the pressure or else that wound will not heal. End of story. You can put the tears of a unicorn on that thing, if you don't offload the pressure it won't heal.

-Was it fluid? If it's fluid, you have get the fluid out of the issues or else it won't heal. You can sometimes do that with diuretics, medications that cause the body to dump water through the kidneys, but that's always threading a needle because you have to get someone to a state where they still have juuuuust enough fluid inside their blood vessels to keep their organs happy, while maintaining a very slight state of dehydration so the blood vessels suck water back in from the tissues. You can use compression stockings to squeeze fluid back into the vessels, but if they have arterial insufficiency and not just venous insufficiency, you can accidentally then cause pressure injury. The safest option is using gravity: prop the feet up above the level of the heart, wherever the heart is at, at that moment, and gravity will pull fluid back down out of the legs. Super boring though. Patients hate it. Not as much as they hate compression stockings.

-Was it a skin tear because the skin is very fragile? This is extremely common in the elderly, because they're not making collagen and elastin, necessary to repairing skin. If this is the case, make sure they're actually getting enough nutrition--as people get into their 80s and 90s, their appetites often change and diminish, especially if they're struggling with dementia. And think about just wrapping them in bubble wrap. Remove things with sharp edges from their environments. I have seen the WORST skin tears from solid wood or metal furniture with sharp edges. Get rid of throw rugs and other tripping hazards. I had somebody last week who tried to a clear a baby gate and damn near destroyed their artificial hip.

The next critical question: why isn't it healing?

-Are you getting enough nutrients? Both macro and micro?

-Are you elderly?

-Are you ill?

-Do you have a genetic disorder of collagen formation?

Fix why it's not healing and almost anything will heal. If you're diabetic, find a medication regimen that improves your sugars and stick to it. If you're anorexic, get treatment for your eating disorder. If you have congestive heart failure, work with your doctor on your fluid balance. Wear the damn pressure stockings. Prop up your feet.

If, after those two unskippable questions are done, you want to do something to the wound--apply a dressing, do a treatment--that's a whole other kettle of fish. I'll write that later. The dryer just sang me its little song and I need to put away the laundry.

#the attending dr. kristophine #wound care

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daydream-cement · 1 year

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omg are your requests indeed open??? if so, can i request a wing kink lucifer x fem!reader fic :) i am aware it's been done a couple of times now but. i am garbage and i want more ahahah the details are up to you, i just wanna see submissive lucifer *returns to my the garbage can*

Bathing Together (NSFW)

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Author's Note: I love me some of The Wing Thing™. Thank you to THE Lucifer writer (@alexusonfire) for beta-ing this fic. ilysm.

Every move you made had the deliberate purpose of driving the Morningstar insane.

You sat positioned behind them in a grand bathtub. They were seated between your legs submerged to the sternum in the steaming water, their head thrown back in ecstasy as you ran a damp sponge across the ridges of their wings. You could tell they were still holding back as Lucifer only offered you affirming hums, their eyes remaining shut and mouth closed.

It had been your idea to bathe together. You had discovered their secret love of having their wings stroked and caressed, and since then, you were desperate to find the lengths you could go in bringing them pleasure.

Their shoulders shook as little jolts of electricity traveled through their body. With a determined gaze, you dip the sponge back in the water once more before lifting it back to their wings. When the heated sponge returned to the ridge of their wing, the Morningstar released a gasp, their whole body tensing and then vibrating in response.

Taking a risk, you venture downwards, taking the warm sponge across the membrane of their wing. You were ever so gentle in your actions, treating the wing anatomy with utmost care as it gave way lightly under the pressure of your cleaning.

After a few swipes of the sponge, you dip it back in the water and raise it to their wings to repeat the same steps as before. The Morningstar instinctually reclined back against you causing you to lean back against the stonewall of the bathtub. The pleasure they drew from your gentle caressing of this portion of their wings was more relaxing, the kind of sensation that could lull them to sleep.

You allow them to enjoy the relaxation for a few minutes, switching to their other wing when the first felt sufficiently cared for. You weren’t looking for them to sleep, however. You wanted them to be shaking and writhing with pleasure.

Dropping the sponge away from their wings entirely, you release the sponge into the water and bring your hands down beneath the surface, winding them around the Morningstar’s middle. You closed the final space between you and Lucifer, your chest pressing against their back, and your lips hovering over the crux of their wings.

Your breath skimming over their wings resulted in the angel sitting up straighter, their wings flexing in anticipation. With hands roaming to Lucifer’s breasts, you finally place your lips upon their wings, pressing a kiss to the joint of both wings. The breathy moan that escaped their lips generated a throbbing between your legs.

“Oh, little angel...” Lucifer couldn’t contain themselves, their voice shaking as they spoke.

This reaction spurned you onwards, your tongue darting from your lips to drag a long lick across the space you had kissed. The next moan from the Morningstar came out strangled, their tall form doubling over involuntarily as their wings stretched out horizontally as far as they could go.

You were sure Lucifer folding over was their attempt to avoid your mouth, not wanting to show the vulnerability that came from touching their wings.

“No, no, no, my love...” You scold, fingers finding their nipples to pinch and twist, resulting in their spine straightening back towards you. They hissed in response, not appreciating the way you so easily controlled and manipulated their body.

There you found the sweet spot, the gentle kissing and licking of any available portion of their wings while your hands kept busy with teasing their nipples. The Morningstar began to rock back and forth, shoulder and bicep muscles contracting and relaxing, causing their whole body to shake as their mind struggled to pick a sensation to focus on.

“P-please, lamb… Don’t- Don’t stop…” Lucifer’s voice quivered as they begged for more which caused you to bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan. Their sounds of pleasure were intoxicating for you as they were unlike anything you had ever heard before.

In turn, you then chose to tentatively scrape your teeth against the hardened ridge of their wing, leaving the Morningstar a complete puddle in your arms. The angel cried out, a noise that made you wonder if it was a sob.

You repeated the action, pressing your tongue to each of the spots where you scraped your teeth. Lucifer began to unravel, repeating the word ‘more’ over and over again until it became an unintelligible mumble as the words ran together. And while you couldn’t see the look on the Morningstar’s face, you would have been pleased to see the angel nearly in tears as the sensation of your mouth was almost too much for the immortal to handle.

The steady rocking of Lucifer’s hips drew your mind to something even more pleasurable for the Morningstar. Your left hand released their breast and you pushed the now free hand between their legs, fingers finding their clit with ease. The kneading of Lucifer’s breast and teasing of their clit became secondary to your mouth’s ministrations against their wings.

The warm water began lapping at the edges of the tub when Lucifer’s thrashing grew more unhinged. Their hands reached back, clawing for your thighs, grasping them tightly as they bucked their hips against your hand.

It felt as if your bodies were melding into one. Their pleasure was your pleasure.

You were struggling to get leverage over the angel, their size much greater than your own. Relinquishing their breast, you draw your hand back, shifting it up the Morningstar’s back and up around their neck, squeezing as you spoke, “Tell me what you want, my little devil.”

“Make me come, lamb… Make me come.”

You do as you are told, pressing more firmly against their clit as you circle the nub. With your hands busy, you refocus your attention on their divine wings.

You place long languid licks to the upper ridges of their wings causing your sweet Morningstar to thrash and moan in your arms. Their cries grew louder bordering on that of a scream. You were sure many of the demons outside their chamber walls could hear their master’s cries of pleasure.

The rough texture of Lucifer’s wings was delicious against your tongue, a sensation you were sure you wanted to experience again in the near future. You slid your tongue over their wings again and again, until much of the parts of their wings closest to you are shining with your saliva.

“Oh, lamb… I’m- I am about to-“ Lucifer’s words came out strangled, every fiber of their being attempting to restrain themselves from coming so soon.

There was no stopping the tidal wave about to crash over the Morningstar.

They fully unraveled before you when you opened your jaw wide, taking a portion of their wing in your mouth to gently bite down.

Lucifer’s head was thrown back, a guttural moan escaping as their nails dug into your thighs. You braced yourself against the angel, fingers gripping their throat even tighter and your left hand fingers pausing their work against their clit. Their wings spread outwards and gave a great jolt causing the water to churn wildly, spilling over the edges of the tub.

With the shuddering and shaking beginning to subside, Lucifer’s wings drew to a close and they turned over so they may gradually slip deeper into your embrace. Even while you had been romantically involved for years, this level of vulnerability with Lucifer was still incredibly meaningful to you.

Their hair had become mussed and disheveled, the frantic actions of your lovemaking and the humidity creating the amusing display.

Their head rested on your chest and you allowed yourself to draw them near, one hand coming to rest on the back of their head while the other traveled down their back, fingers dancing dangerously close to their wings once more. Their breath was still ragged. They had never experienced this level of pleasure with someone other than you.

Lucifer let out a long sigh, their hands danced up your sides so they could rest at your collarbone, “No one pleases me as you do, starlight.”

Their chest pressed against yours and your legs intertwined, generating a deeper embrace between you and the Morningstar. The slickness generated from the water created the most beautiful sensation between your bodies; enjoying time in the bath with your angel was certainly an activity to repeat again sometime.

“I am always honored you give me such control, my sweet sin…” You take a hand to their hair, combing down the flyways that marred the being’s typically flawless curls.

Lucifer only gave a pleased hum, their hand lifting from your body to gesture quickly causing a few inches of water to drain. This left you chilled, only momentarily, before the water turned back on, filling the tub with steaming water once more. It was obvious the Morningstar had no intention of exiting the bath in the near future.

As Lucifer dozed on your chest, your half lidded eyes remained trained on the black, flexing wings that hovered just above the water’s surface. Only if Lucifer knew the additional plans you had for them once you retired to the Morningstar’s bedchambers.

#gwendoline christie #lucifer morningstar #the sandman #sandman #lucifer #smut #lucifer morningstar smut #sub!lucifer #lucifer morningstar (sandman)#lucifer morningstar (sandman) x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

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jellojelli · 9 months

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Blade Boyfriend Headcanons

*a/n: I recently got Blade and I love him :,) also my first attempt at any n s ! w so please let me know if I should keep at it or just leave it be!*

As always, 🛑Minors DNI🛑

**Also for future reference if you don’t want to see any works with n s ! w content please block the tag [character name] smut or [fandom abbreviation] smut and all of my works with that content should be blocked!**

Sfw

To start off, being with Blade romantically would be very challenging even for the most patient and understanding of people

This is quite literally because Blade is a very single minded and broken individual, the man has literally given up his name and identity to become like a blade and to be a stronger person. And on top of that I imagine having a regenerative ability that stops him from dying even when being stabbed and torn apart makes him a little insane in the membrane

However, once you have his attention it is very easy to worm your way into his heart

The only reason it feels like a challenge and why you have to be patient and understanding is because Blade doesn’t know how to act on these new feelings. This can lead to a lot of misunderstandings on your part because of his continued cold attitude. I mean the guy seemingly ignores you and gives curt answers no matter how long you’ve known him or how long you’ve been trying to romance him

But give him some time to finally ask someone Kafka about these new feelings and he’ll start trying to be more soft with you while following the advice given to him on how to win you over and ask you to be his

Don’t be surprised that his confession isn’t all drawn out, rehearsed, or even all that romantic. He tried his best, but in the end he couldn’t see the point in recreating a movie scene so he simply waited for the both of you to be alone before confessing

Even though he didn’t want to recreate a scene from some cheesy romance movie he ended up being really cool and cheesy anyways. I mean the guy literally waited until nighttime hit and then caressed your face while saying you made him “feel all these unnecessary feelings” when you were with him points if you know what I’m referencing hehe

Also he has zero concerns for your species. He may be a long life species cursed with self-healing, but that will never stop him from loving you once he’s able to convey those emotions. He’ll be damned if he lets you being a short-life species or a Vidyahara stop him from being with you or your reincarnations. Literally once you have him, you have him for the rest of his accursed existence

Blade would literally and very easily kill for you once you’re his. Rest easy knowing that your enemy is his enemy 10x over and should he ever see them they will pay the price for ever wronging you. Don’t worry though, you don’t have to make his enemies yours. He understands that the way he operates isn’t exactly normal, plus he has his pride to deal with on accepting help and he’d rather you didn’t put yourself in unnecessary, dangerous situations for his sake

Speaking of, this man will become livid and scarily angry if you do stupid things, especially if you’re doing it for him. He trusts you, he knows you’re strong in your own way, but don’t mistake his knowledge of that for him wanting or being okay with you being in those situations

He will not initiate physical affection with you, even in private. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he has too much pride to go up to you for a lil huggy or a kissy

Blade will subtly melt at any affection you give him though. Hugs will make his body relax, you can literally feel his body slump onto yours when you give him any type of hug. His favorites are back hugs and when you make him wrap his arms around you while you look up at him, so jot that down. Kisses are strictly for when it’s just the two of you. He doesn’t really care about pda or things like that, but he is a touch possessive and he would sooner be dead then let anyone see you or him in such a vulnerable and intimate way

He’s also a huge sucker for forehead kisses, giving and receiving. Blade really enjoys when you kiss his forehead and move down to kiss his nose and then lips before he has to leave or before you leave on a mission or for personal reasons

Dates with Bladie are interesting for lack of a better word

Mans will literally take you to the most breathtaking, gorgeous corner of the universe and deadass tell you take up your weapon for some training

Now this kind of situation is only on the rare occasions he takes some initiative and asks you to come with him. Most of the time you will be taking him somewhere that you want to go to since he only wants to train or hunt down someone

Idk about y’all, but I can see this man willingly being your bag holder if you enjoy shopping?? Like don’t ask for his opinion on anything because he will not give you anything more than logical and boring responses (“what’s the point of getting a shirt like that? You will have to destroy it the second an enemy appears.”) but he will hype you up in his own way by assuring you that yes, you look beautiful/handsome in any piece of clothing you could possibly pick up. He’ll repeat himself as many times as he has to as well

Blade is a very silent man so not gonna lie you will be the main person talking at every given moment. I mean he literally just stares at you the whole time you talk and nods or hums at certain points. Don’t think he isn’t listening though or that he won’t call out you for adding in some weird detail to see if he’s listening because trust me, he is holding onto to your every word like it’s the words from an Aeon

Surprisingly, he remembers every anniversary and is quite the romantic for his standards

While it’s nothing grand, Blade will gift you a single rose with a hand written note. He always leaves it on your nightstand and he never stays after

You will have to hunt this man down to give him your gift and thank him for the rose and the note

Bladie here can be a bit of a sap when he writes, especially because he agonized over it and, again, swallowed his pride to ask Kafka how to convey these feelings in a way you would like

While he doesn’t really need to be patched up after battles, if you insist to bandage him up his heart melts just a bit and maybe he feels a twinge of guilt at making you worry for his well-being

Fights likely don’t happen often between you two unless you like to be reckless or have intentions of changing him or stopping him from hunting down those that owe him. The last two things you have to accept to be in a relationship with Blade. He can compromise and even 100% change his ways for just about anything else that involves you and him, but he will never stop pursuing those that he has sworn to make pay. Being reckless though will always drive him up a wall. He loves you with his entire being even if he cannot express it well, and the one thing he wants from you is for you to stay with him for as long as you physically can

If you can’t keep yourself from being reckless Blade has no issues punishing you by ignoring you or being cold to you. He also isn’t above mentioning your behavior to Kafka or having her pass it on to Elios that you may mess up his script by not behaving or getting involved in something you can’t handle. Blade won’t even care if you ignore him over it or yell at him, in the end if he can keep you as safe as possible a few hurtful words or lonely nights don’t matter to him in the long run

Nsfw

Blade is strictly a top and he will not relinquish his control in the bedroom for anyone

Not to say that he won’t try things with you or even let you think that you’re in control, but just know that in any situation Blade is the one allowing things to happen or not and he can and will put a stop to it and put you back into place

He can be rough and almost animalistic when it comes to sex. I’m talking fast, rough fucking while he growls in your ear and mutters absolute filth to you

I cannot see him being explicitly turned on by any talk play like degrading or praise, however, he lets some mocking praise slip out when you obey and act good for him

Sex is also serious with him, he’s not stuffy or uncomfortable with these situations, but he wouldn’t appreciate you cracking jokes or making light of your intimate moments. Would let it slide though during your first few times together and especially if it’s your first time in general as he can’t fault you for being nervous

Into biting and marking both ways

Literally makes him go even faster and harder when you bite him or when you start scratching down his back. You also have some impressive bite marks from him and hickies litter your entire body. This also includes cum marking and he would get excited again at record speeds seeing you covered in his spend. God help you if you try and tease him by licking it off your fingers or smear it more on yourself

He’s also into both edging and overstimulating you. He loves the power he has over you by being the only one to allow you to cum or being the one making you orgasm until you physically can’t anymore. Don’t even think about trying to edge or overstimulate him though because he will make you pay for it

Blade will also go all night and well into the morning if your body can keep up with it

Listen, Blade is a master at finger fucking. I mean he trains with a sword and is hella strong in his arms and hands because of that and he doesn’t mind using his strength and dexterity to deliver the most mind blowing finger fuck of your life

N O T into toys. Doesn’t matter if they can help overstimulate you or pleasure you better while you get him off. As I said before, he’s a bit possessive and nothing will pleasure you other than his mouth, fingers, cock, or his body in general. Don’t even dream of it, he won’t allow it. Expect for him to literally trash any toy he finds and show you that he’s better than any stupid vibrator or dildo that any world could produce

I’ll be honest, I don’t see him being into oral, giving it or receiving. I mean he wouldn’t deny you or not go down on you because of that, and if you’re really set on sucking him off he won’t say no unless it calls for it. But he would rather fuck you and be inside of you that way instead of your mouth. Though he does like receiving it sometimes, especially when he’s having more of a power trip or when he’s proving a point after finding some toy you may have bought

If he does give you oral, he prefers it when you sit on his face. And I mean sit on this man’s face. If you don’t put your weight on him he can and will grab your thighs and bring you down how he wants you. This is the only time he’s giving you some kind of control, so you better sit and ride his face until he’s decided you’ve had enough

***Literally blushing and banging my head on a wall for writing this, how do y’all write like this and not want to crawl into a hole. Anyways how do y’all tag this kinda content and keep tumblr from shadow banning the work/profile***

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr blade #blade x you #blade x reader #blade smut #hsr smut

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sugarpasteltmnt · 3 months

Note

(last seen at the tmnt au comp u _ u)

CRYING I LOVE SWANATELLO AHHHH 💜💕😭💞💖💘😭😭💜💕💗💜💖💘‼️‼️ omg I’m a big fan of your aus ;w; and I love Swanatello holy cow your brain is so beautiful like your art style 😭💘 I hope you find your boi!!! 🥺

But fr if ‘Void’-Leo ran into Leo first, he’d probably point and laugh either because 1) this dude lost his brother lmao or 2) he’s laughing at HIMSELF for hallucinating this scenario rn (because he’s a little coo-coo. A little insane in the membrane)

But if ‘Void’ ran into Swanatello first… i could see one of two things happening—

Leo is so Shook he just has the dial-up sound playing in his head, or through a silly exchange of “Lake?” “Key??” “Lake!” “Key!” the two establish a buddy system to look for their respective Things together

#if Swanatello really wanted he could unlock [Guard Dog Acquired] achievement #because my Leo could never abandon a version of his brothers who needed help #he’s probably thankful for the distraction of all these AUs rn #since he’s low key in the middle of fighting his family #any distraction will be much appreciated for him lmao #fr I’m trying to play it cool #but I’m so!!! AHHH 😭💜💘‼️#thank u for sending this to me it made my day 🩵#tmnt au competition #tmnt au bracket #tmnt au competition 2024

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lethal-spaceship · 19 days

Note

About your Invader Zim AU (which I loved, by the way), what would the Talests and Mr. Menbrana be like? (Can you draw please? ) (⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)

THANK YOU!! And totally! I actually already drew Dib's family yesterday so this post was also motivation for me to do The Tallest as well!! I'm also gonna do a bit of a lore dump as well bc it's funny. Let's start with Dib's family then.

I actually had Gaz's design for 5 years now and she mostly was left unchanged except for a couple of palette tweaks. Also kept her alt pizza gamer hoodie.

Facts of DOOM 1. Membrane family are mexican. Prof. Membrane is himself a mexican immigrant while his kids were born in the US. All of the family members are bilingual and switch between Spanish and English at home. Gaz struggles a bit with her English tho but nothing too bad. 2. Prof. Membrane lost his arms AND wings to sharks. He really thought they were his friends... 3. Dib and Gaz are genetic clones of their father. They don't know it and don't really question where their non-existent mother is. 4. Prof. Membrane loves his kids even tho he is a very busy man. He might sometimes be an abscent father and be a little bit goofy silly but he always tries to make time for his kids and likes to organize family gatherings from time to time and lets either Dib or Gaz choose where they will eat and catch up that day. When it's Gaz's turn she chooses a crappy pizzeria place, when it's Dib's turn he prefers to stay at home with everyone to cook and eat mexican food together.

And, of course, The Tallest.

They are the new designs actually! Wanted to make them look... menacing and kinda have that ying yang energy sorta.

Facts of DOOM 1. The tallest leaders could be considered their own irken sub-species. It's rare to produce "the tallest" naturally but if needed then it could be done forcefully. The "tall irkens" which are not the current acting leaders are also considered to be really important members of irken society and treated like celebrities. 2. The Tallest are slightly more competent in this au. Red takes on the role of leading irken military and dealing with military related issues, while Purple is responsible for dealing with social issues. Both are giant gluttons and Purple is a bit more goofy than Red is. They also low-key act like a married gay couple. 3. The Tallest despise Zim. Obvious one, but they preferred Zim before he went on his insane murder-crime rampage. They see him as a crazy annoying child (which he is tbh) which they have a really hard time getting rid of.

#ask #invader zim #iz au

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀 — 𝐄𝐙𝐑𝐀 (𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓)

↳ summary: Abandoned by your prospecting crew, you team up with a fellow castaway to survive the hostile environment of Bakhroma.

↳ pairing: ezra (prospect) x f!reader

↳ [6.7k words] content: 18+ MDNI. Violence, injury, use of the name 'Little Bird' (canon), medical scenes. Fingering, riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (ain't no condoms on a moon, girlie, but you better wrap up!), oral (f receiving). This is a @beskarbabs remaster — original post date 2021.

Ezra masterlist I| main masterlist |I join the taglist here

On your journey to Bakhroma, you'd heard an old wives' tale. Somewhat of a ghost story passed around the three-member crew during drunk nights while the long-haul space freighter floated in endless space. The unit said that other Prospectors that had survived the trip to the moon claimed that anyone who stepped foot in The Green was consumed with greed. How they were overcome with voracity upon the sight of the first Aurelac gem obtained, how Prospectors would literally kill for more of the obscure crystals, for the money that came from selling them, even just to be able to possess them for themselves. You had laughed.

How you wish you had taken them seriously.

Clutching your right arm in distress, you stumble through the foliage surrounding you on shaky legs. There's no denying the agony crawling up your arm in tendrils. You also lack oxygen, food, water and a weapon to protect yourself. Yet, you aren't as afraid of this as you are of the likelihood of other Prospectors wandering the forests. Given the traumatic event you managed to survive only hours ago, you could happily live the rest of your life without seeing another Prospector again, even if that shortened your life by force of circumstance.

Your crew, many of which you had grown up with, had stranded you on a hostile moon, of which its air was unbreathable, with little to no chance of survival. Despite the ache in the soles of your feet and the searing pain that shot through your arm with each step, this irrevocable fact left you numb: there was no accident. They'd abandoned you.

You didn't even observe when the atmosphere amongst the crew changed; it had all happened so fast. Having landed in the Drop Pod without incident and safely navigating The Green without needing to fire a single shot from the two Frontiersman guns you shared between the three of you, it had all gone so smoothly. Even the first Aurelac extraction had been successful.

If you were to pinpoint a moment you could pin the blame on for your fellow prospectors' change in attitude, it was when they first set their eyes on the crystal that they extracted from the hideous organism's membrane.

There was no way around it; everyone had become greedy. Their ridiculous ghost tale had manifested itself. They had harvested as many as was needed and then some more, and some more. The storage cases were overflowing and impossible to close without bursting at the seams. Some Aurelac gems were too big to fit into the case and had to be carried by hand.

When the time for harvesting was up, the group wandered back to the Pod. Maybe if you had been more observant and taken heed of the muted conversation, you could have avoided this mess entirely.

Upon returning to the Pod, the atmosphere had curdled. Stasya and Devi had control of the weapons since the very start of the mission, and you now found the barrels aimed at you. Stasya, the self-appointed leader of this expedition and all-around pretentious air-head, had decided upon leaving you on Bakhroma, initially claiming there wasn't enough weight capacity to take all three of you back home on the Pod.

"That is nonsensical, and you know it!" You'd insisted, wondering whether or not Stasya had secured her helmet correctly. She had to be going insane. Surely the toxic air had seeped into a crack in her armour-

"We have at least 140 pounds in Aurelac gems," she'd replied abruptly, her stance aggressive, "We need to leave you." You were in shock, bewildered by her statement. No matter how hard you tried to interpret her logic, it wasn't making sense...

"But we were cautious that we didn't pack too much equipment to ensure we had capacity for the harvest- I don't see how we could have breached the volume that we can't all make our way back safely," you contend, incredulous at her insinuation. When she didn't respond and instead aimed her Frontiersman Gun up between your eyebrows, your attention flitted to her overly-protective grip of the handle to the storage case in her free hand. Finally putting two and two together, you scoff, looking between Stasya and her power-grabbing number two, Devi.

"You are being ridiculous! We have an even split of the money we'll make from the gems-" You'd tried to plead for your life, well aware that abandonment on The Green was a definite death sentence. Devi interrupted.

"We get a much bigger cut if you're not involved," he pointed out rather callously. These two crew members, your friends, had been tainted by the very same greed they had forewarned in their ghost stories, passed on by other Prospectors, and were willing to sacrifice you for a shot at blood money.

Maybe it was the pressure of the situation, the rising panic in your stomach, but time seemed to slow down as the gravity of their plan for you began to set in. That same alarm sent you into fight mode.

It had all happened in what felt like a microsecond. Charging at Devi, you grabbed the gun in his hand with both of your own in a reckless attempt to foil their plan and turn the tables. You grit your teeth, straining at the exertion it took to try to pry his fingers from the weapon. Devi panicked, the gun slipping from his grip, and he began screaming at Stasya to do something.

She did.

She shot you in the arm, causing you to drop to your knees with a cry as you pawed at your wound with your palm. It burned white-hot, and you almost doubled over at how the pain pulsed from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Your vision had begun to blacken around the edges through the blurriness of the pained tears that welled in your eyes. Yet, despite your obvious distress, your agonising cries fell on deaf ears. Aiming his now secured gun at your head, Devi breathed heavily as he attempted to ease the shudder that wracked his body.

Adrenaline had coursed through you in your body's subconscious effort to numb the pain, and you rocked your torso backwards and forwards, battling the onset of unconsciousness. Through your astounding agony and the way your jaw throbbed from the strain of gritting your teeth as an anchor to ground you to reality, you'd managed to make sense of Stasya's final address to you.

"You should be grateful. We're allowing you to live. It's up to you whether or not you make an effort." She muses before turning on her heel and leaving you on the muddied floor of The Green, Devi following quickly behind her.

✰

You can't recall how long you've been staggering through the forests by yourself in your endeavour to find water. It's already hot in The Green, and your adrenaline spikes have caused you to sweat even more and edge you further towards dehydration, to the point your throat feels like sandpaper whenever you swallow. Whatever liquids you had drunk before leaving the Pod have now seeped through your pores, making your undersuit stick uncomfortably to your hot skin and your wound burns from the salt of your sweat.

Having lost all sense of direction some time ago, whether that was due to the ever-changing forest line or the pit of emptiness that sat in your stomach that growled in protest at the lack of nutrition in return for your bodies labour to trek across this forsaken moon, you are entirely disoriented.

You can't go on much longer like this. Not only are your vitals appearing utterly grim, but breathing has become much more challenging. You're running out of oxygen, and your lungs are beginning to ache. It begins crossing the threshold of uncomfortable, morphing into something akin to pain. You clutch at the fabric at the chest of your environment suit, struggling to maintain a calm disposition while also supporting the drive of a survival instinct.

You're so tired.

Despite your best efforts, anxiety and dread rip through your body and inundate your logical brain. You can feel your chest heave, the onset of a panic attack. You lurch forward in your hysteria, rushing in your despair to find something that could help. You aren't even sure what you are looking for, only that you're looking for something that would enable you to survive.

You see the fallen tree log at your feet, but the blind panic is so overwhelming that you don't have time to react. Pain racks up your ankle and calf as you trip over the damned thing, falling forward and rolling down a muddy hill. You're falling so fast that the trees and grass look like a green and brown smudge through the glass visor of your helmet, like some arcane painting. You hold your hands out to brace yourself, to stop yourself, but the mud is slippery, and there's nothing to grab onto until you reach the very bottom and come to a stop, groaning weakly at your arm's complaints.

You sit up slowly, hands braced on either side of your hips to keep balanced as you move in the soaking, sticky mud. Checking your oxygen supply, you have enough to last at least another 5 minutes. Then you'd have to rely on the air in The Green's atmosphere. A few hours of that would kill you. By your estimations, you had an hour to find shelter and breathable ai...

The view when you look up and take in your surroundings is breathtaking. Having landed in some kind of wide open valley, you have an uninterrupted view of the horizon the forest had once concealed. You're enclosed from behind with bright yellow wildflowers, the remnants of the flora in the woods you had quite literally tumbled out of, but what lays before you now is a beige-coloured wasteland surrounded by mountains. With no camouflage to hide behind, the skyline is perfectly clear. Suspended in the sky, much to your astonishment, is a colossal moon, similarly toned neutrals to the floor beneath you, but with brilliant splashes of rusty oranges and reds.

You're not sure whether it was the inevitable feeling of your life slipping away with each passing second or whether the sight before you is washing away all of your fear, but when you finally hear the hiss of your oxygen tank running out, you don't feel frightened. Pulling the latch on your helmet, you slowly remove it, noting the sting of the spores in your throat, the tickling in your lungs that reminded you the air on this globe was toxic. If this was how you were to die, at least you had a beautiful view.

So you sit back in the grass and mud, taking in the stunning view, and let time slip away. The absence of hope wasn't as petrifying as you had imagined; it was calming. So serene. In your moment of peace, you can't feel the pain in your arm despite it worsening over the hours of wandering aimlessly. It's a simple resignation, one that doesn't take much thought at all. You would return to the stars here and become a part of this ecosystem. While hostile, it's certainly gorgeous.

You tilt your head back, observing how the celestial bodies twinkle and frame the gargantuan moon in the sky. The breeze picks up slowly, tickling the skin of your exposed face and neck while the sun soothes and warms it.

When you cast your eyes behind you, taking in the expanse of your surroundings over your shoulder, you're jolted from the tranquillity and suddenly reminded of your dire situation. Not only is there an Aurelac cluster nestled in the grass to the left of you that you had narrowly avoided hitting during your fall, but there's also a person beside it dressed in an environment suit. They're staring, Boscelot Frontiersman gun aimed straight at you. Terror rips through your veins as you attempt to scramble to your feet.

"Wait, wait!" You gasp out, eyes wide as you put your hands out to show you aren't a threat. The sun reflects from the glass visor covering their head, preventing you from seeing the person's face. The suit is old. Keeping the gun aimed at you, they point to their radio, asking you to turn it on. You crouch slowly, pointing to your helmet to alert him that you must reach for it. He seems to understand, as he has no quarrel with you picking it up and slipping it onto your head. The rustling of the trees and gentle blow of the breeze cuts out when you're sealed in, and as you connect the radio, their voice echoes in the plastic chasm.

"You won't endure much longer if you persist without oxygen." It's a man. The voice is unexpected. It's low and laced with an attractively smoky tone. So smooth, it almost flows and ebbs with each word. You've never quite heard an accent like his, the twang new to your ears.

"I won't endure if you decide to shoot me either," you point out bitterly, mocking his extravagant phraseology. You've had enough of this planet having it out for you. Your lack of luck today was becoming almost humorous, but your limited patience certainly wasn't. Did it have to torment you like this? Why couldn't it finish you off quickly and not at the hands of another Prospector, considering you had already had enough of them too?

You hear a throaty chuckle at your mocking comment, though there's no humour to that either. The stranger keeps aiming his gun at you, taking a few steps forward. The sun, still reflecting from his visor, causes you to squint when it targets your eyes, hoping to see his face before he kills you.

"It appears that your words hold venom," he begins. You sneer slightly, already past the point of no return as far as you are concerned. He lowers the barrel of his weapon ever so slightly then, and you assume he's studying you.

"It has been quite some time since I heard the sound of a fellow human's voice," he laments, taking another step forward, "How nice it is to exchange utterances with someone who understands me." Had he not stepped out of the sun and revealed his face, you would have made some snotty remark about how you can't understand him anyway, his flamboyant verbiage creating a difficulty of comprehension. However, the sun's rays don't extend this far, and the moment his face is revealed, you find yourself stunned into a shocked silence.

Given the age and weathering his environment suit shows, he's younger than you would have expected. A beige-green colour with notes of black, he had been completely hidden among the leafage. His jaw is square, covered with dark brown stubble and a moustache on his upper lip that he's miraculously maintained well, given his situation. After all, you could safely assume there wasn't an endless supply of razors on the moon.

From what you can gather from his face, his skin tone is honeyed, and his aquiline nose is subtle though the bridge does arch enough to be noticeable from this distance. He's rather handsome.

You're so focused on his face that you almost wholly overlook that his right sleeve is knotted just below his shoulder, indicating he has lost his right arm. So many questions cross your mind, but the predominant query is... How had he survived even a second in this environment with only one arm?

"Though," he continues, disrupting your evident surprise, "It would also appear you have been impaired. What happened, Little Bird?"

Discounting his name for you, you consider your answer carefully. How would he react to knowing that you had come to harvest Aurelac? Is that what he's here for too? The likelihood of him seeing you as a threat to his harvest and killing you was more feasible than letting you go. But you're running out of time, and your lungs are screaming from the intake of a toxic atmosphere. So you decide upon the truth.

"My crew-mates shot me," you admit stiffly, coughing from the strain the spores are putting your body through, "We came to harvest Aurelac, but they left me behind. Wanted to split the harvest between the two of them."

The man standing before you considers your words, his expression unreadable. You're sure he's about to shoot you. A second bout of coughs breaks the tense air, making him relax a little.

"So the other Little Birds flew the nest and left you behind," he muses, watching you struggle with a quirk of his lips. He seems to take a moment to think about something before asking you another question.

"Are you..." A pause. "Are you out of oxygen?" He asks, nodding his head to your helmet. Despite what you think is a pretty obvious answer, you nod weakly. He lowers his gun.

"Will you be able to walk? You took quite the tumble." He fucking saw that?! Just how long had he been watching you?

Again, you nod, wondering where he plans to take you, given his miniature inquisition. He slings his gun over his shoulder and holds his only palm out to you.

"Hand me your oxygen tube," He orders, curling his fingers in and out for emphasis. You stumble awkwardly on your injured ankle, grabbing the tubing and making your way over to him. Despite your better judgement, you are willing to trust him. Your urgency for aid outweighs any wariness you have for him. The man takes the tube from your palm, feeding it into his oxygen tank with ease. The surge of fresh air into your lungs and the instant relief from the burning brings you solace.

"We need to revert to my Pod. Can you make the journey?" He asks of you, commanding the situation flawlessly. You nod again, at a loss for words at this man's generosity. Finally, he turns his back to you, leading the way back up the hill you fell from. It's a struggle, especially given the slickness of the mud, but the stranger manages to help you up with little effort despite his handicap.

"You can't keep the lesion exposed to the air like that. The spores contaminate it," he continues to make conversation. You're not sure if you're thankful for the silence being broken or want him to remain quiet, but you listen to him regardless. "It will make you feel bilious, and then it poisons the tissue in the arm... Resulting in necrosis." He's far too knowledgeable in the effect of Bakhroma's spores on the limbs for you not to think that is what caused the lack of his own. It spills from your lips before you even have the chance to stop it.

"Is that what happened to yours?" You blab. He doesn't stop walking. In fact, he doesn't answer your question at all.

"I'm Ezra," is all he states, his way of an answer, you suppose. The silence following is arduous and highly discomforting, considering Ezra just told you there was a likelihood of your arm turning black and dying due to the exposure to spores. It's now that you make the decision that you wish he hadn't spoken at all.

Without a response, Ezra answers instead, amusement in his tone ringing throughout the tense atmosphere.

"You're innominate? I guess I'll stick to calling you Little Bird then," he muses, once again leaving you stunned by his use of vocabulary. He's like a walking thesaurus, spouting words you've never heard before and blindsiding you with his knowledge of language. You are so blinded that you miss his asking for your name.

At this point, the blissful feeling of reassurance hits you like a tonne of bricks. The Pod is just ahead of you now, and you have to chew on the inside of your cheeks to prevent the sting of tears of consolation from devolving into full-fledged sobs. Not five minutes ago, you had truly convinced yourself that you would die. Now safety is just within your reach.

Ezra moves forward and opens the hatch for you, helping you inside. It's not large, but it's just spacious enough for you not to feel claustrophobic. The first thing you notice is that it has been kept very neat, almost to the detriment of a homely feel, as the steel-grey walls, floor and ceiling give off an almost hospital feel. There are few of his things on display, and you just assume he keeps most of his possessions in storage.

There is one thing that catches your eye, though. Despite the almost solitary cleanliness of the Pod, there are two cot beds. One is neatly made, pillows put into place, and covers smoothed out so there are little to no wrinkles. The other is messy, with pillows askew and covers pushed into a crumpled mess in the left-hand corner of the mattress. You glance back at Ezra, who's entering the Pod from behind you.

"We need to execute the procedure to preclude infection, Little Bird. Sit down. You may remove your helmet in here too." He orders, pointing to the neatly made bed as your seat. You do as he says without question, sitting down cautiously and taking off the crash helmet as he makes his way over to storage, riffling through whatever was in the containers. You need to fight the urge to cry again with the relief of the strain of your body weight on your feet, having been wandering for hours amongst harsh terrain.

Ezra returns to you, med kit in hand. He lays it down next to you on the bed, removing his helmet now that his hand is free. Of course, you had seen his brown hair back in the valley, but you hadn't noticed the little blonde tuft at the front of his hairline. It's cute and gives him somewhat of a boyish charm. He takes this moment to give a weak smile.

"I need you to disrobe from the environment suit. Do you require my assistance?" He asks you, tilting his chin to your arm. You're so taken aback, probably overwhelmed and exhausted from the extremity of the events that had unfolded so quickly that you find yourself at a loss for words. Once again, you merely nod, accepting his offer of help gratefully.

You use the hand of your healthy left arm to pull down the zipper on the front of your environment suit, while Ezra works to pull down the shoulder from your right. He's vigilant in ensuring the collar doesn't catch on your wound on its way down. Then, working together, you unpeel the suit from your torso until it hangs around your hips, your sleeveless body glove exposing the blast to the outside of your bicep.

You decide not to look at it.

"Will it hurt?" You finally speak to him, and Ezra's eyes move to your face momentarily. He seems to consider his answer carefully while he raises his wrist to his mouth, ripping the velcro of his gloves and pulling them off with his teeth. He takes the item of clothing, laying it neatly on the bed beside the med kit.

"I'll do my utmost to keep your discomfort to a minimum," is his reply. While it does nothing to quell your initial fears, you appreciate his honesty and consideration. You look around the room, trying to find something to focus on as Ezra works through the med kit, taking out whatever he needs to start the procedure.

"Remember to breathe," he murmurs, his voice suddenly very soft. It causes chills to break out across your skin, even though the fear of pain is causing you to sweat. Inhaling slowly, you feel your lungs expand in your ribcage to the point it grows tight before exhaling again, fixating on the sensation to distract yourself from the pain.

"Hey," he whispers softly, pulling your focus back. You glance up at him through your lashes and find him gazing back at you. His expression is tense and cautious. He doesn't want to hurt you, yet the inevitability traps a sense of trepidation between you. Deep-rooted panic settles in the pit of your stomach, making your blood rush through your veins quicker.

"Look me in the eyes," he takes your chin now, holding it a little tighter with his fingertips to ground you. Your eyes probably gave away your internal panic.

You nod weakly, looking to catch his eyes and-

And time just stops.

It's humiliating; you know you would be blushing if you said it aloud. His irises are a deep and warm earthy-brown, as though Ezra had spent so much time amidst the rich soils and thick mud here that it had almost become a part of him. Looking into those eyes, you felt like you were orbiting around him. Maybe the spores had left you with irreversible brain damage from the very little time that you had your helmet off in the valley, or perhaps he was quite possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Once he notes that you're holding his gaze and breathing steadily, he sets to work. You hear him pick up something from the kit, a top popping from it. He hesitates for a moment but holds your gaze still.

"This will sting," he admits. There's a splash of a lukewarm liquid before the burning starts. You grit your teeth, straining against the scorching sensation. It prickles, an intense itching following that is so bad you feel your toes curl in your leather boots. Yet, you maintain eye contact. You cling to the empathy that's there and appreciate his understanding.

He lays down the tube, eyes flicking down for just a moment to pick up an item. A Patch Gun. Ezra stares back at you, pulling the stopper with his teeth and lining up the nosel with the wound.

"Breathe in," he commands, and you do. You breathe so hard and fast that your sternum aches with the strain. The sound of medicated foam being released from the Patch Gun reaches your ears before the pain does. When it hits you, you release the air in your lungs with a strained whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the agony rips through you. Like the initial wound, it seers white hot, spiralling down your arm to your fingertips and up your neck muscles. Your jaw is tight, tears springing to your eyes.

"Good girl," Ezra soothes you, pulling the patch gun away from your arm. Leaning back into the searing torment, you moan as he helps you to lay back against the mattress to ride out the peak. It's not long until the intensity slowly ebbs away until you're blinking your eyes open to find he's putting the stuff back into the kit box to lay back into the storage containers. You can see the peripherals of your vision pulsing rapidly, skin buzzing all over as you come down from the tense and excruciating high.

Time seems to both slow and accelerate in this mid-conscious state. What feels like hours passing by is probably only a few seconds, but you're exhausted. That fatigue catches up with you so fast that you barely have the chance to catch it before your eyelids droop. Sheets pull up to your shoulders, and their comfort is enough to finally push you to slumber.

✰.

There's a suspended moment when you ease back into consciousness. You are aware that you're awake, but keep your eyes closed in an attempt to fall back into unconsciousness. A dim thrumming in your bicep pulses with each beat of your heart inside your chest. It's not painful, just unpleasant. You pull your eyebrows together slightly, your other senses finally beginning to awaken with you.

You can hear Ezra moving around in the Pod, searching for something in the storage containers. You blink your eyes open slowly, still curled up on your side. He's just ahead of you. Having shucked his environment suit, he's dressed in a deep camo-green, long-sleeved shirt tied just beneath his amputation and a pair of grey sweatpants. You can't help but feel like you're imposing on his privacy, seeing him dressed so casually and watching him walk around his own space.

"Ezra?" You croak his name. He glances up quickly from what he's doing, eyes settling on you. He looks relieved, eyes crinkling around the edges as he smiles at you.

"You awoke! Do you need liquids?" He asks, pacing his way over to you. He leans over the bed, placing the back of his palm on your forehead to feel your temperature— though you're certain he gets a reasonably inaccurate reading. The moment his honeyed skin touches yours, your cheeks heat up as your heart hammers in your chest. You're not sure why his presence is suddenly so debilitating for you, but when he looks expectantly into your eyes for an answer to his question, you swear your brain short-circuits.

"Yes, please," your voice is raspy from the lack of use, and your throat aches as the words pass your lips. He smiles that same smile again, rendering your heart almost completely useless before he turns on his heel to grab you a glass of water.

You know exactly where this is coming from. Your very sudden attraction to him comes from months of loneliness. While your abandonment by your crew had come as a shock, it certainly wasn't a surprise. They had always been much closer and would go days without acknowledging your existence if you didn't make an effort to talk to them. Maybe this had been the plan all along?

Regardless, despite being in the presence of other people, your isolation had made you utterly starved of touch, needy for attention. Along came Ezra, coming to your aid and focusing all his consideration on you.

Stars above, you were desperate. Shockingly so.

You look up, seeing him stroll over with a cup of water in tow. He settles himself down on the bed, laying the cup on the bedside table to hold your waist as he helps you to sit up in bed. You're almost sure he doesn't mean to, but his fingertips brush the slither of skin exposed between your undershirt and your bottoms. It sends a tremor up your spine. It's so intense you swear you can feel it on the crown of your head.

"You had me concerned, Little Bird," He smiles, passing the water over to you, "But you're out of the woods now." Ezra sounds almost as relieved as you feel. He keeps his gaze on your bicep for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he plans his following few sentences. Nothing acceptable seems to come to mind, so he remains silent, the unspoken words hanging in the air and causing a thick tension between you as you sip at the water.

You cast your own gaze upon his arm, or lack thereof. The questions in the valley swarm your mind again, much louder in the silence than they had been at that moment.

"Did you amputate it yourself?" You work up the courage to break the stillness with a whisper, and once again, he casts his eyes upon your face. You'd known him less than thirty waking minutes, yet you had already reconciled multiple things you admired in him. His smile, his hair, his use of vocabulary.

However, it was how he looked at you when he spoke to you; how he gave his full attention and hung on every word was your favoured attribute. It may be that those spores *had* caused some form of irreversible damage to your brain chemistry...

"No," he chuckles, fingertips moving to brush at the stump of his arm underneath the fabric, "No, it was my companion who dismembered it." You sense almost a fragility hidden deep beneath his extravagant persona. It doesn't take a genius, a person with Ezra's knowledge of dialect, to see that the unspoken words indicated the partner he spoke of was no longer with him.

You try to steer away from what appears to be an emotional subject for him, deciding upon another question to ask.

"What made you decide to help me?" The query falls from your lips so easily. Ezra's own quirk up slightly.

"Your candid account of what you had experienced touched me deeply. Had you told me a differing narrative, I wouldn't have been so lenient," he admits to you, those earthy orbs finding flitting between your own once more. You swear he's doing it on purpose now.

"But I empathise with you. Many moons ago, I found myself in your state of affairs, my own crew deserting me. Words and metal were exchanged, and I found myself alone on this very same celestial body with no help." His hand takes your own, brushing his thumb along your knuckles as he speaks.

"I was hoping I could be of service to you, help you in your moment of need... You might help me in mine." You pause, taking in those words with surprise. Help him? What could a man who had survived an extended time in such a hostile environment, alone and with only one arm, possibly need your help with?

Ezra turns his hand slowly, his knuckles brushing up your forearm absentmindedly as he talks. Yet, for a man so equipped to be savage and cruel, he also managed to maintain a very soft, gentle side.

"I lost my partner," he confirms. There's a tender, mournful look in his gaze. "I met her not unlike I met you in the valley. She was heedful but intrepid. An astonishing companion..." He trails off slowly, that pain finally reaching his expression as he gathers himself.

"I miss having a partner. I'm half the man I once was and can no longer defend myself adequately. I require a confidante and associate." He looks expectantly at you.

"You're asking me to stay?" You question, your surprise reaching your voice. Was he always this trusting? Or was it simply because you were both stuck here regardless?

"Yes. Truth be told, I miss the company. Besides, how could I turn down your companionship when you are as bewitching as you appear?" He muses, a smirk spreading across his lips as you let out a bemused laugh.

"Are you saying I'm pretty?" you grin, unable to hold your overwhelming attraction to his charms. He just nods slowly, tracing his palm up your bicep and over your neck until he's teasing at the skin stretching across your jaw's bone with his thumb. He's methodical in his strokes, almost contemplative.

"After all, it's not as though you could leave without oxygen," he points out teasingly, but the smile slides from his face almost as quickly as it pulls up. The air is charged around you, a pull so strong you're convinced that Ezra can feel it too.

You begin to wonder if Ezra was as desperate, as touch starved and deprived of affection and care as you are.

"How long have you been alone?" You manage to force through the quiet between you. His thumb trails beneath your jaw again, the pad tenderly outlining the column of your throat. You swear your heart is beating hard enough for him to feel it beneath your skin, but you do your best not to draw attention to it.

"Some six to eight months. I lost track after the fourth," he admits his voice a murmur. Those deep globes flick back up to yours, considering the expression they hold, reading your sympathetic gaze. His lips curve into a small, meek smile, very unlike the personality he'd displayed to you. But Ezra was such an open book; you felt you knew everything you needed to know about him already.

In a universe, so advanced and technological, science had been able to explain away every form of mystery and coincidence that humanity had ever thought up. But there was something about Ezra, the way he had stumbled into your life and saved your own, that made you feel like this was some sort of fate. Destiny. He was meant to find you.

You're bold with your next move, moving your unhindered arm up to place your palm over Ezra's wrist, forcing him to take you by the throat. He looks surprised at first, looking between where he held you and your expression. You can see the number of questions running through his mind slip away as you lean forward.

There's this moment of suspense between the two of you, your chest so tight as you find your breath escaping your lungs a little heavier than a moment ago. Your lips are so close, millimetres away. You can taste him on your tongue, can smell a citrusy scent. It's oddly like oranges, sweet and tangy. Those lips you're so needy for tilt upwards, smirking at the drawn-out wait of you psyching yourself up to make a move.

"I wouldn't leave even if I had oxygen," you sound hushedly. It wipes that grin off of Ezra's face, the implication of your words not having time to sink in before you're pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss, so full of tender and agonising need that wholly consumes the both of you.

He squeezes his palm around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to apply light pressure, and uses the leverage to pull you into a deeper kiss. His lips are soft, barely exposed to fresh air due to the ventilation in the Pod and the constant covering of his helmet. It's intoxicating, and you find yourself slipping so fast into this heated embrace that you forget to breathe entirely.

Ezra leans you against the mattress slowly, trailing his palm down your side ever so gently despite the heated frenzy of your lips. He's highly aware of the bruising you sustained during your fall in the valley, and in any other moment, you would have been overwhelmed by his consideration, but he tastes so sweet on your tongue that you cannot help but lose yourself to him. You're certain Ezra can feel you melt into his touch as his tongue traces the plush of your lips, groaning softly as he allows his hands to explore the heat of your skin.

He begins with feather-light touches on your hip, squeezing gently to test for sore spots before he adds pressure to his grip. You hum in appreciation into his mouth, your fingers trailing through the dishevelled brunette curls at the side of Ezra's temple before working their way to the nape of his neck and taking root there.

Brushing his palm up your abdomen slowly, Ezra's fingerprints map the ridges and bumps of your muscles and the bones of your ribs. He moulds his lips against yours in a softer kiss before pulling away, smirking as he feels your ribcage expand with a sudden gulp of air.

"You need to respire in order to survive, Little Bird." he mutters, the pad of his thumb brushing the underside of your breast, "Don't say I've restricted your ability to perform a basic human function." You giggle breathlessly, appreciating him trying to break down the intensity of the situation as he presses a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose, between your brows while he waits for you to catch your breath again.

"May I touch?" He asks you, ensuring that it's what you want. You nod feebly, finding yourself at a loss for all words apart from those that sounded like you were pathetically begging. Your skin buzzes as his palm cups your breast, squeezing gently.

"You are just heavenly," he murmurs into your ear as you tilt your head back with a soft moan. It's been so long since you were last touched by someone else that every skim of his skin against yours sparks embers of heat beneath it. He groans softly as he feels your nipples harden under the fabric of your undershirt. Only then do you notice the strain his body is under, having only his elbow to balance.

"I can-" you pause to consider how you want to put this, "I could get on top." There's a break in his purposeful movements, almost as though his brain has buffered at your words. Swallowing a moan that he manages to catch in his throat, Ezra nods quickly and turns to lie on his back.

The dynamic changes almost instantly as you straddle his hips. You can feel the atmosphere change around you, as though the ambience shifts and clicks into place. When Ezra's hand finds your hip, you feel empowered. So you lean over, kissing him with a hunger that allows him to experience your breathlessness.

A soft whine escapes you as you feel his hips shift, the stiff bulge in his sweats brushing against your clit through the pants of your environment suit that he had left on you when you fell asleep. The friction, mixed with the tension in the air, seems to unlock a primal side to Ezra. He leans up suddenly, pressing open and sloppy kisses to your throat. He's nipping and sucking on your skin as you fumble with the waistband of your environment suit to push it over your hips.

Quickly pulling your legs out of your clothes, you're left in only your undershirt and underwear. Ezra pulls you back over his hips, grinding up against you and letting out a groan that almost reverberates in his chest. You're both grabbing at each other in your desperation, months of pent-up frustration and lack of intimacy fuelling the both of you with little thought.

As he continues his ministrations to your neck, you pull down his sweats, easing them over his hips. You can't help but pause as you reveal his cock, Ezra having decided not to wear underwear beneath his sweatpants. He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, teeth brushing your skin with the smug smirk that spreads across his face.

"What's the hold u- oh fuck-" he chokes out as you brush your clothed cunt over his exposed crotch. He grips your hip hard, pupils expanding until the earthy brown of his iris' are almost entirely swallowed by them at the feeling of your slick leaking through your cotton underwear and streaking across the length of his dick.

"My sweet... Let me..." He trails off, his thumb hooking underneath your underwear and pushing them to the side. You can feel him brush against your pussy lips, your thighs shaking at the heat that settled between them. Then, before you even have the chance to beg for his touch, he's brushing his fingers through your folds and spreading your slick up to your clit.

You jolt at the sudden pleasure that arcs up your spine, head lolling back as the feeling practically liquifies you. Ezra is rubbing your clit with his print in small, tight circles, and you swear you could cum right there. But, almost as quickly as he starts, you must stop him, grabbing his hand and pinning it to his side.

"Little Bird, why can't I touch y-?" He cuts off as you lift yourself, sinking down onto his cock slowly. He squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back against the pillows and practically tearing up as he feels your cunt flutter around him at the stretch.

"E-Ezra," you splutter his name, bracing your hand on his chest and digging your nails into the sun-kissed skin to the point pink blooms underneath. He's stretching you so wide it's almost like he's splitting you in half, enough for you to need to spread your legs wider in order for you to feel like you can take him all.

"Good Girl— so good. Just a little more," he coos, kneading the tips of his fingers against your hip to ease you. Sucking in a deep breath, you sink yourself down to the hilt, whimpering at the intense stretch and the delightful sparks of pleasure that come with it. His cockhead is spearing up against something that makes your thighs tremble.

"Hah, ah..." You try to steady yourself against his hips, only rocking them slightly as you adjust to his size. He's gazing up at you like you're the most dazzling gem he'd ever seen, pupils tinged with enough awe and reverence to make you feel like you are some kind of goddess.

You begin to grind into him, a chorus of moans and gasps falling from your mouths as bliss spreads through you. You can already hear your blood rushing in your ears, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you swear you can feel your ribs crack. He's filling you up so well, hitting that spot in you with each bounce of your hips.

"Brighter than the stars, Little Bird- Fuck, you're so beautiful," Ezra growls, using his grip on your hip to rock them harder against his. Meanwhile, you're speechless. Your mouth is agape, panting out with a squeak every time he fills you up to the hilt repeatedly. It's all happening so fast and building so much that you could scream.

That's when Ezra switches his position, hoisting you up slightly as he plants the heels of his feet into the mattress. You sob loudly, tears of excruciating ecstasy slipping down your face. They drip from your chin as he grabs your ass, kneading it and using its leverage to bounce you on his cock. He's pounding into you, his dick hitting your cervix with each thrust.

"Ezra- Ezra, that's hah- that's-!" You wail, eyelids slipping shut as you focus on chasing your pleasure with each sway of your hips, making sure the head of his cock hits that mind-numbing spot inside you that just makes your toes curl.

Your focus is broken when Ezra grabs your chin, dragging your face forward so your noses bump together. Your eyes fly open in surprise.

"You're going to look at me when you cum," he orders, voice indicating this wasn't up for negotiation. You couldn't find it in you to argue anyway, completely cockdumb from the way he fucks you. When he sees that you're pliant, he resumes absolutely destroying you, relying on the relaxation of your body to allow him to thrust his hips into you without using his hand on your hips. He keeps his fingers under your chin but slips his thumb past your kiss-swollen lips and into your mouth, ordering you to suck.

You hollow your cheeks around his digit, running your tongue over the ridges of his thumb print as you keep eye contact with him. He growls out, losing himself in the fervency.

Abandoning that thought, he rushes to remove his hand from your face and press it to your abdomen. He moans out, delighting in feeling his cock slip in and out of your cunt. He can feel the rippling of your muscles and skin with the force he's using to pound into you. Every ridge of his cock adds to the overwhelming feeling as he moves in and out of you, the pressure he's applying to your pubic bone enough to launch you to your orgasm, but then he begins ruinous thrusts that knock your cervix and that sweet spot inside that have your legs turning to jelly with a scream.

You cum so hard that white blooms across your eyes, splitting you down the middle and pulsing devastatingly between your thighs. It sends heat from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head in gentle waves. Tilting your head back, you sob as he continues to thrust in and out, to ruin you completely.

He's babbling, voicing gorgeous and heartwarming compliments, but you're unable to discern them, still in the peak of your orgasm as it just builds and almost reaches a point of rapture that has you in pain. It's when you slam your fist against Ezra's sternum in an attempt to pull yourself from the earth-shattering orgasm that you hear him yell out, painting your fluttering walls with his cum. His thighs tremble, and you fall against his chest, fighting to drag air into your lungs to rid your eyes of the black spotting in your vision.

You lay there for a while, feeling like you're spinning despite your head securely resting on Ezra's shoulder. Your muscles were so tense from your orgasm that it now feels like they're melting into the mattress, seeping through and dripping out of the bottom and onto the floor of the Pod. You feel entirely liquified.

Then he's turning you both over gently, using his hand to brace the back of your head before it hits the mattress and gently laying it down with your body. You whine from the loss of contact, assuming he's getting out of bed or going to redress.

So when he dips his head between your thighs, brushing his tongue through your folds to taste the mix of your cum together, you can't help the moan of shock, overstimulation seeping down your thighs and pools in the base of your spine. He focuses his assault there, swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit until you're sobbing once more.

On your journey to Bakhroma, you'd heard an old wives' tale. Somewhat of a ghost story passed around the three-member crew during drunk nights while the long-haul space freighter floated in endless space. The team said it had been passed down from other Prospectors who had survived the moon trip. They claimed that anyone who stepped foot in The Green was subjugated by greed. While Aurelac gems definitely pleased Ezra, it appeared he found the treasure between your legs much more valuable...

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