30 minute ficlet for a theoretical N/M/Detective poly route, if you'd like? Your ideas on N & M's dynamic are just so good and your writing is SO GOOD, I had to.
You're not what I'm used to / You keep me guessing with things that you do / I hope that they're true / 'Cause I'm never gonna heal my past / If I run every time it starts / So I need to know, if I'm in this alone ~ Say It First by Sam Smith
Thirty minute ficlets
okay so I have so many many thought about this (most of which you’ve already heard and improved🥰) I’m holding to the half hour limit for this particular piece, but there will probably be more coming for this because I am now very very invested in this. This would take place after the infamous bakery scene, and is pretty rough as I’m just starting to play with these dynamics.
Nate is surprised to look up and see Morgan lingering in the doorway of the library. It’s not a place he often finds her, more likely to be down in the training rooms, or hiding in the dark cave she calls a room. Morgan only comes to the library when required or when she needs something.
“Was there something you needed?” He asks with a smile.
She doesn’t answer instead taking a long drag from her cigarette. She looks smaller than usual. Her shoulders hunched and her arms crossed over her body, it reminds him of the times her senses have threatened to overwhelm when they are out on a mission. It shouldn’t be happening here in the warehouse.
Nate is concerned. It something he’s been feeling more and more often when it comes to Morgan especially in regards to her dalliance with Riley. Concern and something else, an ugly little twinge in his gut when he sees them together, he refuses to put the word to the feeling.
“I think I fucked up.” Morgan says her words strained.
“What makes you say that?” Nate asks as he rises from the seat to cross over to where Morgan paces.
“Riley, she--“ Morgan huffs in frustration “-we were at the bakery and she left crying.”
Nate swallows the instinct to race off to the station, to check on Riley. It is not his place. It shouldn’t be his place, especially because he’s never seen Morgan act this way before. Riley would hardly be the first of her lovers to end up in tears, but she has never cared before.
There’s that twinge again.
“Did something happen?” Nate tries to keep his voice steady.
“That smiley human got nosey,” Morgan says with a sneer, “all I did was clarify that Riley and I are just fooling around.”
“Is that all it is?”
“I don’t god damn know anymore!” Morgan yells the frustration evident in her voice. “It’s just fun. It’s supposed to be just fun, but when I close my eyes, I see her face, and when I saw her cry—” her voice tails off.
Nate swallows. He should be happy. He should be elated that Morgan has finally found someone that makes her feel. Does it matter than when he closes his eyes, he sees Riley’s face as well? Does it matter that there was a time when he had hoped that he would be the one Morgan saw that way? It had been decades since he’d put those thoughts away, and yet here seeing Morgan this way brought them back to the surface.
♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap. for Julia / Cynthia or ♤: Taking a bath together. for Mason and Serena please, if either inspire you! 😍💕 Or really anyone with the hair washing / bath... those make me so damn soft.
Non-Sexual Acts of Intimacy (still taking prompts if anyone wants to indulge me further🥰)
💜💜thank you lovely for sending me these!! 💜💜
I’m going with the first one and maybe have ideas for the second one. This might be the closest to fluff I’ve ever written for chargestep, it may border on cheesy, but oh well
a certain clarity
pairing: Julia Ortega/Cynthia Basri (Chargestep)
warnings: death mention and light retribution spoilers
words: 493
It was strange, the bubble of calm that seem to envelope them even as the crowd around pulses with frantic energy. Shouts and the cries of the injured ring out around them. Reporters scream out questions to every passer-by, microphones pushed out as far possible. They’re almost falling over the hastily erected barriers in their desperation for information, for story. As Marshal, she will have to face them soon, but not just yet.
It isn’t that Ortega is hiding from her responsibilities, in fact she is disobeying the medics orders by staying. They had tried to hurry her off to an ambulance, so worried about the gash of missing skin on her arm, but there were still people caught in the rubble, people who needed more help than she did. Gauze and antiseptic would have to do for now. It could have been so much worse.
Ortega had been sure she was going to die. She’d faced death many times in her life, but she’d never been as sure as when she felt the sting of the nanovores devouring the flesh of her arm. She was going to die, and it was going to be a long, painful death. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
Until there had been. Ortega looks down to where Sidestep’s head lies in her lap. Her breathing is slow and even in sleep. She wishes she could remove the mask so she could run her fingers through Cynthia’s brown curls like her mother used to do when she was a child and feeling sick, but anonymity is more important to Cynthia than any comfort Ortega’s hand’s can provide.
It’s not the first time that Sidestep has saved her life, maybe not even the tenth, but this, this felt different. Perhaps it was the “no” that tore out of Sidestep as the nanovores attached themselves to Ortega’s skin. The desperation, the desperation that gave her the strength to stop them. Sidestep has saved them all.
After the containment team had arrived, after they had cleared the field and Sidestep was finally able to relax, Chen, with his accusatory gaze and his questions, asked how she’d managed it.
“I don’t know. I just . . . I just had to.”
They’d been dancing around each other for months now. Cynthia always refusing Ortega’s attempts to take her out, but still succumbing to stolen moments of lips and bodies pressed against each other. No more than kissing, it never went further, and Ortega didn’t press, still unsure of her own feelings.
Except she hadn’t been unsure today. Not when the nanovores spelled her own doom. Behind the pain and the fear there was one thought, “I should tell her.”
Then Sidestep had saved them all, and the words wouldn’t come. Ortega can feel the moment, the clarity that death’s specter had provided, slipping away.
Even knowing, or maybe because, she will not hear, she whispers, “I love you.”
Fallen Hero tag list: @lilyoffandoms, @lord-king-saint, @thenshe--appeared
watch me request more writing because I just can't get enough
for Serena & Mason (or Chargestep!): I feel like I'm about to fall / The room begins to sway / And I can hear the sirens / But I cannot walk away Sky Full Of Song by Florence + The Machine (quite possibly my favorite)
thirty minute ficlets
thank you for the prompt💜! It’s an excellent one, and I thought it might help me finally make some headway on the post kidnapping hospital scene, but alas it did not 🥺 Here’s what I was able to come up with, but I think I might just need to scrap the idea since I’m having such a hard time with it😞
pairing: Mason/f!oc (Serena Willis)
warnings: death mention and cursing
words: 304
It’s too dark in the room when I wake. I can’t remember where I am or how I got there, and then it comes rushing back. The trappers, the questions, the blood. I hear movement in the room with me and panic sets in.
It’s not until I hear a familiar voice say, “calm down sweetheart. It’s just me.” That my breathing begins to steady. As my body calms, the rest of the room comes into focus around me. I’m in the hospital wing of the facility. Mason is watching me from his position leaning against the wall at the foot of my bed.
Neither of us speak. I don’t really know what to say. Should I think him? What is exactly the protocol here?
Memories resurface of his touch pulling me back from the darkness. I had been so sure I was going to die. My life hadn’t flashed before my eyes. I had no sense of peace or clarity, not until I’d opened my eyes and seen him there. I’d been so sure it was just a hallucination.
I hadn’t questioned it. At the time it had made sense that the last thing I would want to see would be him, and now I had to live with that knowledge. It’s suddenly too warm. His eyes on me are too much.
I go to pull the sweatshirt over my head and wince at the pain that blooms in my chest with the motion. “Fuck.”
“Here,” Mason moves forward and I feel his hands grip the material. He pulls it over my head in careful, but sure movements.
“Thanks,” I say once I’m free from it, and I hope he knows I don’t just mean about the sweatshirt.
He shrugs and perches himself on the edge of my bed, “don’t worry about it.”
Oh I’m so happy you sent a rose because I just want to constantly shower you with compliments!
Like I don’t have enough words to say how much I adore and appreciate you💜💜💜
First off your writing is so damn good! The dialogue the characterization (the smut 😳) it’s just so so good and I’m always excited to see when you post something new (that bards tale piece is just living in my head rent free)
And your art! You capture emotion and energy so well and I literally cry every time you draw something for me 🥺
And then just you as a person! You are so kind and encouraging to other creatives in the fandom! You have so much enthusiasm and I know that it has helped me personally feel more confident about sharing my work 💜
You’re also hilarious and so creative and always coming up with fun things. Like you really make this fandom better and more inclusive and more interesting!
And then just on a personal level you have been so kind and supportive and I feel so connected to you (and I hope you feel the same) I just feel very understood with you and it’s such a wonderful feeling
In short I love and adore you. Interacting with you always makes my day better. You are a wonderful person who deserves all the good and wonderful things your heart could desire💜
Random OC questions for any of your choice! 😄 9, 21, 32, 39, and 48 (I'm being greedy hehehe)
50 Random OC and Relationship Questions
I don’t mind you being greedy at all! Thank you for always taking so much interest in my ocs and just generally being an amazing person 💜. I think I’ll go with Riley for this one (no reason whatsoever of course 😏)
9. If your OC is human, what supernatural being would they be if they were one?
hmmm this is a hard one. I want to say maybe some sort of fae or maybe a dryad. She tends to be shy and she can be very protective over the things she cares about.
21. Is there a symbol associated with your OC? If so, what is it and why?
I’ve written about her using some moon imagery before, so there’s that. I think mentally I think of glasses most with her. One because she wears them, but also because she is a quiet and observant person who wants to take a closer look at things. So something that allows you to see clearer? I think that fits her very well.
32. What is a justification your OC uses for their bad choices that they don’t really believe themselves?
She might try to logic it to death, probably using whatever logical fallacy she can to make it justifiable, but it would only work for so long. She would probably end up beating herself up over whatever it was. It also depends on the bad choice, she can be a little too self sacrificing, so she would easily justify a “bad” choice if it meant a better outcome for the people she cares about.
39. What is your OC’s favorite non-sexual place to touch their partner? (ie: hands, cheek, leg, etc…)
Riley likes to hold hands, or even just link arms, hold onto their forearm
48. Describe a simple, seemingly insignificant moment where your OC is reminded of just how much they love their partner.
Riley’s love language is gift giving, so when they show up with tea and a pastry when they know she had a rough night. or interrupting her work to pull her outside for a particularly beautiful sunset because they know she would appreciate it
#69 for F and Ximena or Jessie please! 😌❤️ I think F would approve of my number choice,so I had to. 😂 (If you'd like and feel up to it!) 💕
As always, you're lovely and I adore your writing! 😍
Sorry this has taken me so long to get to.
When you first sent it I definetly giggled and agreed that F would approve of the number, but then I went to my playlist and started counting.
#69 Hurt by Nine Inch Nails
and yeah, kinda intense especially for F, so it’s taken me a while to come up with something, and I’m still not sure if I really like it, but here it is
It haunts Jessie. The image of Felix so small and quiet in his bed stays imprinted on her brain long after she leaves the warehouse. The logical part of her brain knows that he can heal, that between him and Sanja he had the best chance of survival.
Jessie is used to being able to depend on that part of herself to have the answers, to give structure and meaning to her life, but since meeting Unit Bravo, since meeting Felix, it’s becoming harder and harder to trust. Not because it’s saying the wrong thing, but because there is this new part of her that can’t help but scream and sing when in his presence and its drowning out all logic.
She had let logic win that day with the trappers, but she can’t shake the feeling of guilt she has been carrying with her ever since.
If she could go back, if she was faced with a similar choice, could she really make the logical choice especially now after seeing Felix injured, after holding him as he fell asleep, after seeing the affection shining in his golden eyes?
It had been easier when she was the one in the hospital bed, when it was her body being bruised and injured. She would rather face that see Felix’s eyes clouded with pain ever again.
even though this ended up being quite the downer thank you for sending the prompt. It really forced me to think outside the box!
Send me a pairing and a number between 1-100 and I’ll write a short scene based on my Spotify Top 100 playlist
