#BOTH TURNED INTO MONSTERS AGAINST THEIR WILL

[kitten4sannie]

two player game

pairing: gamer boy! yunho x gf! reader

genre: smut with zero plot

summary: you find something worthwhile to occupy your attention while your boyfriend is wrapped up in his current save file.

w.c: 1.7k

warnings: nasty dom! yuyu (bro gets a bit whiny), tiny bit bratty mostly good girl! reader, pet names + name calling, praise + degradation, SIZE KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️, monster cock yunho agenda, implied throat/hole training, manhandling, edging, cockwarming w throat, messy oral + deep-throating, finger sucking, a (rough) quick fuck bc yunho cums in 0.5 seconds, breeding + bulge kink, creampie <3

a/n: as a certified yunwhore i simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write about gamer boy yuyu ~~ honestly i have no excuse for this tbh i just need him so baddddd and this is what i have to do to keep the voices at bay 😔✊🏼 anygays, enjoy lovelies! and if you liked, please consider sharing your thots with me :3 <3

“You said you would stop playing after you finished that level, Yun, come on,” you whined to your boyfriend, who was currently balls deep in the newest video game he just bought. It should’ve been you he was balls deep in, yet here you were, third wheeling to an inanimate object. 

Yunho ducked and weaved around your waving hands that were currently trying to block his view from the flatscreen tv he was locked in on, sitting up from the slouched position he had on the sofa you both were lounging on. 

“Ugh,” you huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Whatever.” 

He turned his head for a moment to look at you apologetically, reminiscent of a golden retriever that just got scolded. “I’m sorry, baby, I swear, I’ll get off soon. I’m just…at a really good part right now.” 

“You said that twenty minutes agoooo.” You leaned against Yunho, your cheek squishing into his large shoulder, pawing at his nearest thigh. “Why can’t you play with me, instead of your stupid game?” 

“Oh, I see.” Yunho raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision. “Someone’s in heat, huh?” 

You let out a whimper, kneading at his upper thigh. “I want you, Yun…Please, pay attention to me~” 

Yunho simply spread his thighs apart, your gaze shifting from his mischievous eyes to his poorly concealed cock still trapped inside his black sweatpants. He grunted, reaching down to adjust it, moving his thick length over so that it laid comfortably across the thigh closest to you. “You can have me, princess. I’m right here.” 

Just as you were about to pounce on him, Yunho grasped the bottom of your face in between his slender fingers. “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” Chuckling at the sight of your squished cheeks and confused face, he leaned in, whispering, “Go ahead and cockwarm me, baby, with that pretty little mouth of yours. You can do that for me while I finish this part, mm?” 

The sick bastard was toying with you. Well, two could play at that game. Licking your lips, you got down onto your knees in front of Yunho, fitting yourself in between his open thighs. Without saying a word, you began to run your fingers along his soft length over the material of his pants, tracing the outline of it, feeling it harden underneath your fingertips, making sure to rub your thumb over his pronounced tip, knowing it was sensitive. 

As if on cue, a small whimper escaped Yunho’s straining throat, his eyebrows screwing together as if to concentrate harder, refusing to look down at you. 

Filled with determination to interrupt his gaming, you tugged the waistline of his sweatpants down, your thighs squeezing together from the way his dripping cock smacked heavily up into his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around it, humming at how warm it felt within your grasp, lowering yourself down to slowly drag your tongue from the base up to the tip, licking around the tip until it shined. Lightly sucking it into your mouth, you palmed his balls one at a time, squeezing them suddenly, earning another whimper from your boyfriend. 

“You’re playing dirty, princess,” Yunho grunted, pressing his back into the couch, glancing down at you just in time to watch a good majority of his pulsing cock disappear down your throat. “Fuck, what a good slut…” He stroked the top of your head like he would with a cat, nodding approvingly. “I trained your throat well, haven’t I? Now, stay just like that while I play, okay?” 

Your cheeks grew warm from hearing your boyfriend’s polarizing praise, unable to keep yourself from letting his thick length push even deeper down into your throat, breathing shallowly through your nose, your lips already stinging at the corners. “Mmmrfff….” You stayed still for as long as you could with his oversized cock pressing against your tongue and throat, beads of saliva dripping past your mouth and down along his slick skin, using your hand to lube up what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth in the meantime. 

Yunho shuddered from underneath your touch, his half-closed eyes shifting downwards to burn the image of his tiny girlfriend, who was currently being swallowed by one of his many hoodies, trying her absolute best to fit his big cock inside her mouth. Your stark size differences always made him throb, made him want to take advantage of them in every way he could. “Look at you, taking all of me like that, baby…Take some more, okay?” he exhaled, sliding his slender fingers into your hair and bucking his hips up, fucking himself into your tight, warm throat. 

“Mmnn…!” you moaned back, squeezing your hands into his large thighs, feeling his muscles tighten up underneath your fingertips. You were so wet already, you had no choice but to squeeze your bare thighs together as a poor attempt to keep from soaking the carpet underneath you. Being enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm cologne and clothes while he ruthlessly shoved his cock down your throat was simply too much for a sensitive girl like you to handle without creaming yourself. 

“So tight, princess, just like your wet little cunt, huh?” he groaned out, opting to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and continue shoving himself into your throat, rolling his hips up in a quick, sloppy fashion, with clear desperation, and a need to give his pretty cum dump a load to gulp down. He audibly hummed at the choked moans and gasps you were letting out, pulling out just to roughly slap his cock down onto your lolled out tongue, grunting and groaning as he shot thick spurts of cum down your throat. He tried to control his panting, wanting to hear your answer to his next question. “You sounded so hot, choking and moaning on my cock like that. You soaked your panties just from getting throat-fucked, didnt you, baby?” 

“Uh-huhhh,” you purred, your voice a bit gravelly from the abuse your throat took, swallowing down most of his load, only sticking your tongue back out when he reached down to push two fingers over it and into the back of your throat. 

Yunho watched with awe as you didn’t seem to gag, humming at the feeling of you sucking the rest of his pre-cum and other mixed fluids from his slender digits. “That’s my good girl…so well trained now…fuck.” 

You moaned onto his fingers that continued to lazily slide over your tongue and occasionally down into your throat, slowly pulling away to purr, “My cunt’s trained too, Yuyu. Don’t you wanna fill up my other hole, see how well I can handle your cock now?”  

Not caring that he had been missing out on the important lore that was playing out in the current cutscene the entire time, Yunho tossed his controller out of the way and lifted you up from the floor, taking a second to push your soaked panties out of the way before he sat you down onto his cock. He let out a small growl, watching your cunt swallow the thick tip of his cock and slowly take the rest of him inch by inch. “God, you’re still so fucking tight, princess…” Yunho pressed his lips onto your ear, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, the borrowed hoodie you wore bunching up near your tummy. “Mm, but you can’t help having such a tiny pussy, can you? So small and cute…perfect for my big cock to fuck full…” 

“Perfect for you, Yun, just for you–nnngh…!” you gasped sharply, just as your boyfriend began ramming himself up into you, his hands tightening the grip they had around your soft waist, using you like you were his own perfectly crafted cocksleeve. “So big, so biggg, fuck–”

“And you’ll fit it all inside your perfect cunt, just like you always do, won’t you, baby? Yeah, just like that,” he groaned out, lowering one hand down to your tummy to rub circles over it, feeling his own cock as it slammed into your cunt each and every time. It never failed to make him feel so dizzy, knowing you were this small, yet you could always take his cock like a champ. “That’s my girl, look at you go, baby, letting me breed you like this…so good for me…” 

“So good, so good for you, Yuyu…” You gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into them through his hoodie, unable to keep yourself from moving your hips down whenever he fucked up into you, growing more and more desperate now that you were on the edge of ecstasy. “Gonna cum…oh my god, breed me, please…!” 

“Gonna fuck you so full of my load, princess…” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, his deep groans gradually turning into a staccato of whiny, higher-pitched moans, still able to forcefully drive you down onto his cock, but his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. All Yunho had to do was lift his head back up to look at your pretty fucked out face and how effortlessly tiny you looked wearing his hoodie to reach his limit, immediately pumping his hot load into you as soon as it began spurting out of his aching cock. “You feel that, baby? All the cum I’m fucking into you…?” 

“Mmhmm…!” It felt so good, you started to cry. “I love it, Yuyu…” 

Just as his cockhead roughly kissed your cervix for the last time, Yunho felt your cunt lock around him like a vice, something warm and wet coating his cock and lap. “Fuck, you just came all over my cock, didn’t you?” He chuckled, rubbing your back in small circles. “Always making such a mess, aren’t you, babygirl?” 

“It’s all your fault, Yun,” you whined softly into Yunho’s shoulder, hugging onto him for dear life, your vision fading in and out. If you had came any harder, you would’ve passed out, though it was always like this whenever you were around your irresistible boyfriend. 

“Mm, why don’t you remind me of who it was that interrupted my gaming session?” He sent a playful smile your way, booping your nose when you pouted. “Oh baby, next time, just ask me if we can switch to a two player game~” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[writerdownbookworder]

Edward strolled through the woods, whistling as he carried a basket of rolls on his arm. He’d been walking for almost two hours, but his feet were still light as he practically skipped through the shadows.

There was a low growl that stopped him in his tracks. He peered through the darkness. “Juno? Is that you?”

The answering snarl that came had Edward groaning. Of course it wasn’t. This happened at least every other time he came to the woods.

Still, he couldn’t stop the shiver of fear he felt travel down his spine when the creature stepped into the light. It looked like a leopard, but it was an odd shade of red, and almost as big as a hippo. 

Edward didn’t move, closing his eyes against what he knew would happen next. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the attack came.

A rush of air and a sharp growl as the creature pounced, a roar, a yowl as the creature was tackled to the ground. Then, a wet slashing sound and a whimper. 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Edward asked awkwardly.

A smacking and gulping answered his question. He swallowed, feeling slightly sick. 

“Never mind.”

A few moments passed before the clearing fell silent. 

A sweet voice broke through Edward’s thoughts. “It’s clear now.”

He opened his eyes and grinned at the young woman standing in front of him. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, returning his smile. She reached out a hand and he took it, walking with her to the small, hidden cabin where she lived.

Edward set his basket of rolls on her table. “Here you are, m’lady. The monthly bribe to not eat me or anyone else.”

She laughed. “What did you bring me this time, Edward?”

He pushed it toward her, and she opened it, gasping with delight at the fresh rolls. “My favorite! Thank you!”

She immediately grabbed one and started eating it. 

Edward laughed. “Slow down, Juno! I didn’t think you’d have any room left right now! Did you see the size of that thing?! What was that, by the way?”

Juno swallowed with a gulp. “Red leopard.” She snickered at the look on Edward’s face before she took another bite, speaking with her mouth full. “Creative, I know. And I’ll always make room for your baking. Especially rolls!”

Edward laughed, but didn’t say anything. 

It took Juno a moment before she noticed, but when she did, her brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s wrong? It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

“No,” Edward rushed to reassure her. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand why you won’t come back with me. No one would care!”

He ignored the raised eyebrows Juno sent him. “It would be fine, it would! I’d make sure no one bothered us!”

Juno sighed, putting down her roll. “Because, they would care. Your village may not be very smart, since they haven’t figured…this out. And it’s been almost three years. But they would definitely notice if you brought a girl out of the woods and the “monster” disappeared without a trace.”

“They wouldn’t know it’s you!” Edward insisted. “They don’t know that you can shift. They just think you’re the wolf shape. They wouldn’t have to know! Please,” he begged.

Juno looked away. She couldn’t resist that face. 

“So…what?” Edward finally said, hurt. “What are we doing? I can’t live in the woods with you. I’ve only survived this long because of you. I’d be dead in the first week. You won’t come back to town with me.”

Juno closed her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Edward whispered. 

There was a sharp breath, and then both of them had tears sliding down their cheeks. They cried silently together for several minutes, neither of them wanting to move.

Finally, Edward stood slowly. 

“No,” Juno pleaded. “Don’t go.”

She knew that if he left now, he wouldn’t come back.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked quietly. When she shook her head, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Please…spare the village. If you’re mad, take it out on me, not them.”

“Just go,” Juno ground out. “I’ll leave them alone.”

Edward walked to the door and opened it, then paused, turning back. “If…”

Juno looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sighed. “If you change your mind, or come up with another solution, you know where to find me.”

She nodded.

Her plan had backfired on her. What had started as simple fun and games, had turned explosive, and it had just blown up in her face.

She never expected to get hurt in the process.

Every so often, the local baker must bake something and personally deliver it to the monster in the woods, and in exchange the monster leaves the village alone. What no one knows is, the monster actually has a huge crush on the baker and needs an excuse to see them.

[buck-star]

Bucky’s babydoll | B.B

>> Your best friend gives you a present that makes clear who you belong to, to your best friend, Bucky. <<

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.934 Words

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, best friends to lovers, fluff, collar, smut [daddykink, oral (m!rec), deepthroating, spitting, ball worship, praises], aftercare, love confession

Authors Note: Dividers made by me.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

His ocean blue eyes roam over your smaller frame, a smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head back to look into your face. Bucky is currently sitting on his bed while you present one outfit after another to him — you were shopping, and now your best friend has to tell you if he likes the outfits or not. He nods, leaning back and resting on his forearms, smirking at you.

“You know, you always look pretty. In a dress, in a hoodie, with bun or without,” Bucky says, his beautiful eyes light up when you twirl in front of him to show him the back of the dress you're wearing. You giggle and turn back to face your boyfriend; you take a step closer, towering above him, and grin down at Bucky.

“I have one more outfit for you to rate for me, oke?” You ask, making your best puppy eyes because you know that Bucky will do everything for you then — even though he would do it anyway, for you he would collect stars just to make you happy.

He nods, pushing himself up while he watches you leave the room to change into another outfit. The spark in his eyes he always has when he looks at you doesn't fade away when he gets lost in his thoughts; it only grows because the only thought that makes sense in his mind is about you. Bucky is in love with you forever already; when you moved in with him, it didn't take long for him to stop dating someone else and try to be as close as possible to you. You've been his best friend since the two of you were small kids, but his feelings only grew with the years.

The brown-haired man told his mom when he was around five that he was going to marry you one day, that he would be the one who makes you happy and the one who loves you the most — little did she know that he really meant it and that the feelings the kid had only turned into love over the years.

Bucky hates when you go out with your friends to parties, but he knows that it makes you happy, and luckily, you often ask him to join you. You don't date anyone either, which gives him hope that you could maybe be in love with him just as much as he is in love with you.

Little does Bucky know that you feel the same for him, that you’re craving his touch, his love, and that you would prefer sleeping in his bed every night with his strong arms wrapped around you instead of sleeping on your own. The blanket wrapped around was not even close to Bucky's warmth and his scent that you love so much. You even watch movies you hate and scare you because that's the easiest way to explain to Bucky why you need to sleep next to him and why he has to hold you close — to protect you from the dragons and other monsters from the movies.

“Bucky, you ready?” You ask, walking through the door. The moment his eyes catch you, his jaw drops open, and he struggles to sit still. The blood rushes into his cock within seconds, and a low groan leaves his plump lips. “Do you like it?”

Your grin tells your best friend everything he has to know; he knows you're teasing him. But did you know that you would get such a reaction from him? “Fuck, babydoll. Never seen someone as sweet and sexy as you before. But you— you can’t just wear that,” he growls, reaching his arms out for you.

You walk a step closer, letting Bucky place his big hands at your waist and pulling you into his lap, your legs dangling on both sides of his while he pulls you closer to his chest. Bucky's cock is pressing hard against his sweatpants; when he pulls you closer, your crotch rubs over his bulge, and he groans, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.

“Such a tease, walking around with my hoodie and just panties underneath. You know what you're doing to me, don't you? Making me so hard, babydoll,” he growls, leaning forward until his nose brushes along your neck, his lips moving over sensitive skin, and you start thrusting your hips against his hard cock.

“D-Daddy, please,” you whine. Bucky's eyes widen before he smiles even wider. You never called anyone that before, but around Bucky you feel safe and cared for, plus his size makes you feel so small always, but he never uses his size to scare or force you — only to curl you into him and hold you close while his big body is wrapped around you, making sure nothing can scare or hurt you.

“Mhm, say that again, babydoll,” he grumbles. “You know, I bought something for you... I wasn’t sure if you would like it, but now I’m pretty sure. When I give it to you, you’re mine.”

You whine, nodding your head. Right now, you would agree with everything he says as long as he helps you with the aching feeling between your thighs. “W-what is it?”

He chuckles, his big hands moving up and down your sides. “Close your eyes,” he says, waiting until you do it. Then he reaches over to his bedside table to pull something out of the drawer.

With a soft hum, you feel his hands around your neck, something cool as well, as a soft click almost makes you open your eyes, but you try to keep them closed to make your best friend proud of you.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now, doll,” he says, his lips so close to your ear that you shiver. You slowly blink. Bucky smirks at you, his eyes staring into yours. “You look pretty, all of you. Now everyone knows you’re mine, babydoll.”

He takes his phone, smirking at you. You do the same, smiling at your best friend as he takes a photo and turns his phone to show you. Your eyes widen as you notice the collar around your neck; it’s pretty, your favorite color, and something is written on it. ‘Bucky’s babydoll,’ it says, and you grin at him, leaning forward to place your forehead against Bucky’s.

“It’s perfect; thank you, daddy,” you say. Your eyes light up with excitement when you stroke the fabric with your small fingers, sighing softly. You grin at your best friend, pulling him onto the bed, and slide down in front of the bed, looking up at Bucky with widened eyes, looking all innocent while you crawl in between your best friend's legs.

“Whatcha doin’ there, babygirl?” He asks, looking down with a wide smirk across his plump lips. You bring your hands to his thick thighs, slowly inching closer to his clothed cock with a smile. His ocean blue eyes roaming over your face, down to your collarbone, and along your arms to your hands, which are dangerously close to his crotch. “Babydoll?”

You don’t respond to him, just moving your hands as slowly as possible until your fingertips slip over the growing bulge in his pants. Bucky grasps your wrists with his big hands, pressing them down on his thigh while he looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing? Tell me, what do you want to do?” Bucky knows exactly what you’re doing and what your intentions are, but he wants to hear it from you. He wants your permission, your assurance that you really know what you do instead of doing it because he gave you the collar and uses this moment to 'thank him'.

“P-please… w-want your cock, Bucky,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side and looking up at Bucky. Your head rests against his thigh as he smiles down at you, one hand removing from yours and slowly moving up your arm again to your cheek.

“Yeah? You want daddy’s cock?” He asks, and you immediately nod. Then he nods, letting go of your other hand too, and unbuckles his belt. “Then you have to lean back, babydoll, or else I can’t give you what you’re asking for.”

You do as you’re told, leaning back to let your best friend get up and take off his pants and boxer briefs. His leaking cock springs free, and you lick your lips, staring at the huge length and the prominent vein running along his shaft.

“Like what you see?” Bucky smirks at you, sitting back down, earning a nod from you as an answer to his question. Bucky grasps a pillow from his bed. He taps your thighs to get slightly up, giving him the opportunity to push the pillow between the floor and your knees. “Don’t want my best girl to get sore knees while she sucks daddy’s cock, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes still focused on Bucky’s cock. He chuckles, sitting up straight, and runs his hands through your hair, tilting your head back.

“Be daddy’s good girl; get what you need so bad.” His soft voice makes you almost melt, but you manage to get out a soft 'yes, daddy’. Your fingers trailing along his thick thighs once again until you reach his cock.

You wrap your fingers around his shaft, slowly moving your hand up and down. With your thumb, you collect some pre-cum and use it as a lubricant to make your movements easier. Bucky groans, watching you intensely with his blue orbs.

“Good girl! Doing so well for Daddy, yeah, such a good fucking girl,” he praises, his fingers curling around your strands, pulling at your hair softly. You moan, lowering your head above his cock, and kiss the tip of his dick.

Bucky throws his head back as your soft lips touch his sensitive tip. Your tongue is grazing over the slit, and you moan against him, sending vibrations through him. His fingers tightening in your hair, tugging softly on them.

“That’s it, good girl!” Bucky mumbles, watching you as you take him into your mouth. Your warm, wet mouth is taking his sensitive length slowly deeper, causing your best friend to turn into a groaning and panting mess. “You look pretty like that, with my cock in your mouth. Taking me so well, babydoll.”

You take more and more of his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat when you’re a bit more than halfway into your mouth. A soft gag comes from you, and Bucky pulls you immediately away, tilting your head back to look into your face.

Tears well up in your eyes, your chin coated in your saliva, and his pre-cum and Bucky can’t help but groan at the way you look. Your eyes widen, and your lips form into a soft pout as you try to pull forward to get his cock back into your mouth, but Bucky's grip is firm to hold you in place.

“Daddy, please,” you whine. He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you unconsciously part your lips. Bucky smirks, collecting some saliva in his mouth before he spits it into yours, grinning as you immediately swallow down and part them again for him to spit into your mouth once again. He spits into your mouth again, chuckling as you sigh happily. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Always, now don’t push too far; I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, oke?” Bucky slides his thumb once again over your lips, waiting for you to answer, but he only gets a pout from you. He can’t help but to lean forward, capturing your lips with his, moving his lips softly against yours to get the pout off your lips.

As the two of you pull away, you’re panting softly, then nodding. “C-can I try to take your cool deep down my throat? P-please?” Your puppy eyes make it hard for him to say no, so he nods but holds you still firmly in place.

“But you tap my thigh if it’s too much. If you want to stop and you don’t try to do more as you feel comfortable to make me proud, oke? I’m proud of you; you don’t have to take my cock completely for that, babydoll,” he tells you the conditions.

“Yes, daddy!” With that, he loosens his grip and lets you lean forward to his cock once again. You take him almost halfway down your throat; just before you would gag around him, you stop and take a moment to breathe. You look up at your best friend with a pleading look, asking him to help you.

Bucky inhales deeply; your mouth feels perfect around him, and he wonders how your pussy would feel around him and how much you would squeeze him there. He smiles softly at you, his fingers gripping your hair tightly once more. “Remember, tap my thigh if it’s too much. And breathe through your nose; it helps. You can also take my balls in one of your hands, softly, but to steady yourself a bit.”

You nod as much as possible with his dick in your mouth, smirking a bit before tapping his thigh to show him that you understand. He then inhales deeply once again and pushes you down his throat, groaning loudly as he feels the tightness around his huge shaft.

You gag once again, trying to breathe your nose while you dig your fingers into his thighs to steady yourself. You would love to feel his balls; they look so big and heavy, but you don’t want to squeeze him too much.

Bucky holds your head in place, giving you a moment to get used to his size in your throat before pushing you further down and then letting go, so you can move your head on your own. His pants and groans are music to your ears, chasing shivers to run down your spine, and the aching between your thighs gets worse, but his dick is just too good to not suck him off.

You move your head slowly, twirling your tongue around the tip as you let his cock slide almost completely out of your mouth before you take him down your throat and move your tongue around the underside of his shaft. You bring your hand to his balls, kneading and rolling them in your palm. Bucky throws his head back, his plump lips parting and breathy moans leaving his lips.

“You’re feeling so good; your throat feels so fucking good, babydoll. Doing’ so well for me, so fucking well,” he mumbles, thrusting his hips up and your nose pressing against his pelvis. You smirk around his length, inhaling deeply and swallowing thickly shortly after, causing Bucky’s eyes to widen and his hips to buck once again. “So tight, feels so fucking good.”

You swallow once again, feeling his cock twitch in your throat, and without warning he is coming down your throat, letting you swallow all of his cum. Bucky pants, sweat running down his forehead as he pushes you away, tilting your head up.

“‘m so sorry. You were feeling so fucking good, couldn’t help myself, had to come down your throat, sorry,” he says, his fingers trialing along your cheek and jaw to your lips. You grin at him, licking your lips; you don’t mind that he came into your mouth, not at all. His cum is salty and musky on your lips, and you can get enough of it.

He leans forward, kissing you. You immediately kiss him back, fingers digging into his thighs. He tastes himself on your tongue, growling. “Now, get up on the bed, and let Daddy make you feel good. You were so good for me, babydoll. Making me feel so good.”

“B-Bucky, I-I can’t,” you mumble, leaning your head against his thigh once more and sliding your fingers up and down his soft skin. His cock twitches the closer your fingers move toward it, and you smile softly. Bucky narrows his eyes, looking with confusion written all over his face. “I- you’re my best friend, and I do love you; I’m in love with you, but if you see or touch me down there, it’s- if you don’t love me back, you know?”

“But I love you, babydoll, more than everything,” Bucky says, looking straight into your eyes. “Do you think I gave you the collar because I just want to be your best friend? No, because I love you, I want you to be mine, if you want to be mine.”

You nod, smiling. “I-I want to be yours, but only if you’re mine then too!”

“Of course, I am yours as much as you’re mine, doll,” he says, chuckling before leaning down and kissing you. “Now, get on the bed, and let me make you feel good; then I will mark you, all of you. And after we can do whatever you want, cuddles, cooking, showering, whatever you want else, another round, more than one round, you just have to ask. ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s good girl, and you only have to ask, and I will collect stars for you. Because I love you!”

“I love you too, Buck!" You giggle as you get on the bed, making it comfortable, and Bucky gets out of his shirt before placing himself between your legs to finally get his snack before he is going to make you his and mark you in his bites, kisses, and cum.

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf

[silent-stories]

I'm thinking about random lazy days with noah

-He never wants to get out of bed in the morning and tries in every way to grab you and hold you tight to his body so you can't leave. (you both know that one arm around your waist is enough to pin you to the mattress)

-When you finally manage to get out of bed he huffs and sinks his head into the pillow like a child mad at you. After some moments, you usually leave a kiss on his bare tattooed shoulder as an apology and go to make breakfast for both of you.

-When he smells food, he decides to finally get out of bed.

-You realize he is not in bed anymore when you feel his arms around your waist.

-You and Noah often try to bake a cake or cook something and always end up turning the kitchen into a mess.

-You usually always insist on deciding what music to play in the background while you try not to burn down the house. He usually lets you decide. He can never say no to you.

-He often tries to teach you how to play some video game he's into at the moment but you always end up getting killed in the first three minutes of the game. So you both agree that he'll be the one playing, but with his arms around you and your back pressed against his chest, holding you while he fights some monster on the screen.

-You always pretend to be annoyed when the whole band arrives unexpectedly but in reality you love feeling part of their weird family. Of course, you're less fond of having to clean up the mess that three (if not more) other men can cause in your house, but hearing the laughs that echoes through the rooms is worth it.

-You usually fall asleep watching a movie, gently playing with noah's tattooed hand on your lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

-When this happens, Noah picks you up and carries you to bed, being careful not to wake you.

-Other times he's the first to fall asleep, his head on your lap while you let your fingers run through his hair, gently scratching his scalp.

-Then you turn off the TV and the light, placing the blanket around him and curling up next to him. During the night, his arm will wrap around your waist to push you against him anyway.

[strnilolover]

vampire!matt calling himself a monster and asking human!reader why she loves him but she makes sure he knows that he's not a monster in her eyes

living like a vampire wasn’t always bad — there were a lot of pros that came along with it. Like the strength and the heightened senses and such.

But, the cons of it is what really fucked with Matt’s head a lot. Even though he’s been alive for 121 years and 100 of it has been spent like this — feeding on humans was the one thing he hated doing. Criminals or not — just the knowledge that he’s taking someone’s life from them is something he can’t always stomach.

So one night after feeding on some dude in a random dark ally, when he was supposed to be home with you — made his mind run in circles as he made his way home for the night.

He doesn’t understand how you could love him, or what you even saw in him. He’s a monster — a no good who feeds on other people and who could potentially hurt you without meaning to.

When he had gotten home, walking through the door and taking his shoes off — you were immediately up and bolting over to him asking questions about where he was.

“Matt? where were you? i tried texting but you didn’t answer-“ your eyes flicked down and caught notice of the blood staining his mouth. Flicking back up your eyes were wide. “-were you feeding?” you asked, but it wasn’t in disgust, just curiosity.

And — Matt felt a pang of guilt and doubt run through him. He thought your tone of words were different, his mind warping them to seem as though you were utterly disappointed in him.

His eyes darted from yours, nodding slowly. “I couldn’t help it i…there was just this urge — god - i watched the life drain from his eyes. I’m such a monster.” he said, the last words mumbled under his breath.

His gaze remained away from yours, “I’m sorry..why — why do you even love me? what is there to me that you find so good?” he rambles.

Your brows pulled together, a frown tugging at your lips. “Matt baby-“ you bring a hand up to his face, turning his head back to look at you. He looked so…sad. You shook your head, “-you are not a monster. and i love you because you are you. i don’t care that you have to feed on humans or other things just to keep yourself strong and alive — at least i know you’re taking care of yourself when you do. I know you would never hurt me, and you mean the world to me. okay?” you whispered, bringing your thumb to wipe at the blood.

“You are not a monster in my eyes — and you never have been. I see the man who let me take photos of him at the park..the one who sat with me at a café just to talk and watch me drink coffee even though you don’t like coffee.” You said, now moving his face to yours and pressing a kiss to his lips. Matt froze, eyes wide before melting into your touch, reciprocating the kiss.

His arms coming up to wrap around you, landing on your lower back to pull you closer.

Matt’s mind subsided, letting your words sink into his bones — his soul. And before he could register what he was doing, his body moved to push you up against the wall close by.

Pulling away, you both panted — breaths mingling with one another’s. “You mean it?” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. You nodded, “Wouldn’t lie to you baby.” you said, smiling before your hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and smashing your lips back against his. He let himself believe you — his nerves calming.

And the rest of the night was a blur.

© strnilolover

[wysteriamagus]

watched Winsweep's latest video, his pov of the finale. These are just my thoughts :]

I only now noticed that Blake is constantly being referred to as a puppy/dog by Lux and Rat. Idk there's gotta be implication there.

Blake's the one constantly referring to their rivalry as a war, even if it's really just him against Rat from the start, which yeah makes sense. But I'd also wanna add that the way Lux's death sinks in for him is reasonable in the sense that it's war. No one wins in a war, no one ever does. It feels like you win when you see your enemy lose something, but in turn everyone is losing something.

Blake constantly sees his way as the only way too. He thinks it's the only "good way", never once does he see his actions as actually worse than better.

Small detail that I found interesting, Rat chose Winsland as the battle ground. Blake wanted it to end at Market.

AND DAMN it ending with him saying "Why do I feel so empty?"

While one of Rat's last lines before the vid ended was "But now I get it, I'm a monster."

smth smth about loss and realization. How even after experiencing loss that hit hard, they realized different things after it, but both are (in the sense) consequences of their actions until now.

[sevikas-biceps]

[TLDR: me attempting to make sense of the Arcane's eldritchness, which sounds ironic in hindsight but hear me out]

Revelation after revelation aside, there are many pieces of foreshadowing that tell us why Viktor's commune wasn't as great as it seemed.

Visually speaking, all the clues are right there.

The first thing we see of the slums of Zaun is this.

Vi, leading their little group, is astonished to find such a thing—and to think that Huck was there, serving as one of its ushers! Huck, who she immediately calls a filthy traitor; having succumbed to shimmer the last time she saw him—meaning he'd turned to Silco both literally and figuratively—what with his use of the drug and the fact that he'd ratted her and Caitlyn out to the tycoon.

Miss Ma'am is bamboozled.

How the hell did he end up there? At this...paradise? At the slums, which, only a few weeks or months ago; was still dark, dusty, violet, and violent!

Something has changed, obviously; and Huck himself admits that his past was him 'at his worst'. Simply awful. But the Herald had saved him. And because of that, he was leading a better life, now. Naturally, at this point, Vi and Jinx seem wary.

There's gotta be a catch, no?

The landscape and the characters exemplify this.

Let's start with the land itself. Look at how empty it actually looks. Yes, there's a field of flowers. Yes, there's a community, teeming with life. Yes, it's literally heaven. But the lighting. The colours. It's so...bleak. Like a dream. The mountains are green, but they're cast in grey and white; and added with the negative space, there's an eeriness to it that contrasts Piltover's version of an eutopia.

You can argue it being the vast resource difference, as Topside is the superior city for a reason, but the commune is still filled with numerous individuals with just as much creativity as their counterparts. Intelligent and sentient beings—people, with minds to set to whatever task may be at hand.

Now, let's think of the people.

The biggest difference between the two communities is this: the 'healed' of Viktor's paradise wear only one mode of dress: white. It's almost uniform—which is notable, as, previously in the episode, Viktor speaks of 'chaos'. We see how fascinated he was by the mess that Vander's psyche had become, and in an attempt at detangling that chaos, he was 'setting things right' inside the man's mind. Bringing him back to something resembling normalcy. Order.

This is particularly significant for the fact that, in the game, he's remembered for his philosophy on glorious evolution (also mentioned in the show, as we know)—which is centred on the enhancement of the human body to transcend its fleshly limits.

Piltover, in contrast—and by extension the 'unhealed' of Zaun—go against this code. We see shimmer addicts, we see corrupt individuals, we see bigoted populations, we see conflict between the cities. We see human nature at its finest. Even the episode titles, all the way from Season 1, display this.

S1E1: Welcome to the Playground S1E2: Some Mysteries are Better Left Unsolved S1E3: The Base Violence Necessary for Change S1E4: Happy Progress Day! S1E5: Everybody Wants to Be My Enemy S1E6: When These Walls Come Tumbling Down S1E7: The Boy Saviour S1E8: Oil and Water S1E9: The Monster You Created S2E1: Heavy is the Crown S2E2: Watch It All Burn S2E3: Finally Got the Name Right S2E4: Paint the Town Blue S2E5: Blisters and Bedrock S2E6: The Message Hidden Within the Pattern

Again, human nature. Colourful, tumultuous, unsynchronised. A need for knowledge. A need for violence. A need for change. A need for exploration. A need for control. Everything that we can have, we take.

That's the point of Viktor's quote:

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions—rage, compassion, hate. Two sides of the same coin, inextricably bound. That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.

It's a paradox.

This is a sophisticated conjuration. A singularity, simultaneously self-replicating and self-annihilating.

He wasn't just talking about the Arcane. It wasn't just about that 'voice' he and Sky heard when gazing at Jayce through Salo's eyes. It's also about humanity.

So, how does that relate to his commune?

Here's the thing: it looks like heaven, but later on, when Viktor dies and everyone else follows, it's practically limbo. It's liminal. Initially, you only have the vague sense that there's something off about it, but you can't tell what. It's filled with people, yet at the same time, it looks like it shouldn't have any to begin with. Mysterious. Suspicious. Almost dreadful; something that makes you realise: if you think about it too hard, you'd drive yourself insane.

There's something intrinsically natural about the commune, something untouched by human hands; but there's also something intrinsically human about it, something unnatural, cultivated in a way nature itself cannot replicate. That's the catch. It should be a balance of both. An ideal community would show this.

Viktor's connection to the Hexcore tells us that he's, in part, transcended both humanity and the natural world. He's breached the ineffable and the incomprehensible, and brought it into the existence(s) of those who could know of and experience it. Bringing 'paradise' to those who were never meant to realise what it was. Forcing onto them the Arcane, even when done with the best intentions.

For the suffering Zaunites, they have everything they could possibly want: food, water, shelter, rest, belonging, peace, survival; the life that they once could only dream of having. It's perfect. They don't have to be in pain, not anymore.

But the commune is isolated. This is very much seen in the gate symbolism: all are welcome, but once inside, you'll never want to leave. You'll never have to. Because to be cured by the hands of the Herald means to bear his mark. To be saved is to bind yourself to him.

The open archway is also a taunt: the gate is open, it'll always be open, but would you ever risk going back out? Would you really trade this for anything else?

Are you truly willing to leave paradise? Are you truly willing to part with the Arcane?

The Arcane, which had given them everything they'd yearned for through Viktor.

Now, see here: Vi catches a glimpse of Singed exiting Viktor's abode. It's presumably the healing tent, as his main 'bubble' (the place where he 'recharges', so to speak) is the one in the distance.

The point is: Vi sees Singed leave the healing tent. What makes this suspicious is the fact that the man left unhealed.

Note that, prior to this point, the sisters have reconciled and were even willing to stay in this little underground haven despite their initial scepticisms. They, just like everyone else, have been lulled into the comfort the commune provided. So, to see someone else suddenly exiting Viktor's watch—someone with no traces of the Herald's touch, someone who's still bandaged and deformed—is a wake-up call.

Why else would you go into the healing tent, to the commune, if not to have yourself cured or seek respite? Why is this man, who'd obviously be easier work to deal with compared to Vander, not 'saved'?

Vi follows him. Then, Singed leaves the commune entirely.

In her eyes, someone had willingly turned away from 'paradise'.

Logically, this begs the question: Why?

Because that's where the fantasy ends.

Right as Vi comes to the gate, the camera cuts to that Noxian spear upfront. A threat to the 'perfection' that existed within the borders. A reminder that the world outside still exists; a world that Viktor hasn't touched in its entirety, a world that still begs to be saved, a world that is still human at its core brimming and simmering.

That's the reason Viktor's named a herald: he's an omen. He'd brought about a transformation to those he healed. To the slums. Providing a drastic shift in people's lives (or whatever 'life' still counted for those he'd influenced) that left many devastated when Jayce blew a hole in his chest.

By spreading the use of the Arcane through other agents (again, the 'healed'), he essentially reproduced the effects of the power that he had at his disposal, while at the same time allowed himself to better comprehend how the Arcane worked—and by extension, allowed that very power to adapt.

But at the same time, he himself is also the key to undoing it.

From Jayce and Ekko, S2E3:

Viktor hypothesised that there may be something he called 'wild runes'. Patterns that occur naturally when the border between our world and the Arcane is thin. Runes like the ones you use in Hextech. What's the difference between those and wild runes? Pass me a tome. So, I used words you understood in order to elicit your action. This is what Hextech runes are. Pass me a tome. Pass me a tome! There—you sighed. Still a kind of language. A sound, but not words. Something raw; natural. That's wild runes. In most places, the Arcane is dormant—but here and there, it's more active. Wild runes are— —sort of like its fingerprints. Exactly! ...so, you're telling me: that pattern is on my tree, because you pissed the Arcane off with all your demands?

Viktor being infused with the Hexcore—which we can reasonably assume is a wild rune, as can also be seen with its matrix—makes it so that he himself acts as what a Hextech rune would do to it (the Hexcore). Through Viktor, the Arcane is refined, and in a process that doesn't completely destabilise (compared to pure Hextech, as can be seen with the weapons). For Viktor to lose control or to be harmed means making that magic either go wild (the weapons) or make it dissipate (the commune).

That's why the fantasy 'ends' at the entrance of the commune: anything past that is out of Viktor's reach, and remains 'untouched' by the Arcane.

From Jinx, S1E5:

So, all about these runes: they form some sort of mathy, magicky gateway...to the realm of heebie-jeebies. And this turns it on!

Say it again: the runes make a gateway. The Hexcore was a rune matrix, an array of wild runes that formed a singular entity. An entity which is now 'one' with Viktor. It means being the 'Herald' is also being the 'gateway' for the Arcane. The traditional role of a herald is to proclaim and carry messages; we don't know what message the Arcane itself wants to send, but we do know for a fact that Viktor is at least doing its work in creating that commune in the slums of Zaun.

From Singed, S1E6 & S2E6:

The mutation must survive. You must survive, Viktor.

The Machine Herald himself is self-replicating and self-annihilating. He can 'cure' the afflicted, thus infusing the Arcane into other individuals and replicating its structure inside them. And at the same time, the Arcane is also what 'kills' him—with Jayce using (what looked to be a mutated version of) the hexcrystal of his hammer to blow through Viktor's chest, where we know the Hexcore was placed during Jayce's revival of him in Act 1.

This is why the commune, despite its purpose as a safe haven, also exists as a place of great danger. Why it really isn't all That™, even despite Viktor creating it as a safe space for many.

See this exchange between Vi and Jinx:

This place...do you think it could actually work? Underground utopia, run by a skinny tin Machine Herald. Maybe when Piltover slides into the Sump.

Jinx was right in calling it for what it is, despite the words being in jest. A utopia. Working 'when Piltover slides into the Sump'.

It's an impractical scheme. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

An impossibility.

Do you believe in fate, Doctor? Our paths carved before us. Guided by an invisible hand? Not fate. Evolution. Nature's greatest force, forever in flux. No. Evolution has a destination. Not to combat nature, but to supersede it. The final, glorious evolution. But he isn't a specimen—he's a man. And he needs my help. I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause. You may leave. Very well. But I assume you understand already: if you perish, this community is soon to follow.

Viktor understands. He understands. He just wasn't ready to admit it to himself when Singed said it.

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity.

Human nature and human essence aren't self-sustaining. That's why the Arcane was so effective in 'healing' all those people. Their humanity hampered them from healing themselves; both in the sense of the human bodily condition (the limits of the physical self), and in the sense of humaneness (of empathy, of choice). The human body cannot survive its own traumas without an artificial means of a cure (case in point: Vander). And the Arcane acted as its solution.

Mere instinct doesn't let you live—you need to learn how to direct your life after survival. To adapt. To grow. Humanity, self-replicating and self-annihilating; the escape from that cycle, that's the glorious evolution Viktor speaks of.

A utopia. Impossible and impractical. Humanity: that which inspires us to our greatest good, and the cause of our greatest evil.

[seitmai]

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice. “And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

God, Bucky really can twist everything his way 🥴

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.” You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged. “I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you.

It's sweet but also a little bit creepy 🫣

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.” You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

For real!

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.” “I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.” “You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.” Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Oh, don't threaten me with a good time 😌

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

🥴🥴🥴

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

This really broke my heart 💔

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

This is haunting 🥴🫣

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.” Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” “I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

Oh 👀

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.” Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men?

For real!!

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

🥺🥺🥺

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

I feel for her 🥺💔

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart.

Urgh but Bucky has already weaseled himself into her mind 🫣🥴

Hold You Tight: Part 13

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.

Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.

“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.

Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.

“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.

“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.

You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.

“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.

“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”

Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”

You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.

���I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?

He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.

You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”

“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”

You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”

You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”

“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”

“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”

“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”

Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.

His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.

His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”

“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.

“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”

You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.

“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.

You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.

You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.

It was fucked up way to think.

Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.

“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.

You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”

He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”

You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.

“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”

He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.

He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…

He stopped.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.

He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.

The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?

You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.

A small price to pay.

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.

You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.

“Most important meal of the day.”

You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.

“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.

"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”

The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.

Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.

You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”

Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”

Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”

You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”

You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?

“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”

It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.

There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.

It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.

“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”

The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.

“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.

You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”

“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”

“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”

That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”

“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?

He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”

You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.

“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”

“I think your time’s up.”

Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”

“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”

Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”

“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”

“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”

“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.

Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.

You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”

“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”

“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”

“Yes,” he answered.

You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.

Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”

“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”

“It still can.”

“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”

“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”

“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.

“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”

Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”

Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.

Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”

“Because it’s safe there,” he said.

You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.

Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.

Right?

And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Courting challenge of Medusa but with Thor

-Thor knew that you were a powerful warrior with a powerful ability, being able to turn others to stone, which you were careful about, not wanting to accidentally turn someone to stone, despite it only lasting for about a day in Valhalla.

-He had seen you fight alongside humanity; you were like the demoness many tried to portray you as, but when he learned the truth behind you, what had happened and what Athena had done to you, he felt sympathetic but also angry for you.

-You were attacked, you were just a human back then, being faced against a god, one of the strongest, and instead of helping you, the goddess you worshipped turned you into what you are today.

-You no longer viewed yourself as a monster, you treated this gift as a blessing as it kept you safe, but that didn’t mean you forgave Athena, as you kicked her ass in Ragnarok, and you made it look easy!

-Thor had to admit that you were powerful, you were cocky, but you could back your skills up with your talent and hard-earned skills.

-That’s what drew him to you, your strength, as he admired those who were strong and you proved that you were immensely strong, not just in combat.

-You were a bit thrown off by this Norse god coming to you, just staring, but you felt no ill-intent from him, it was like he wanted to speak with you, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

-When he finally managed to speak, you were surprised when he asked for a sparring match, wanting to test your strength for himself.

-You knew that you stood no chance against Thor, and you tried to refuse, but there was something in his eyes that made you agree, after he asked a few more times.

-You both fought barehanded and like you expected he did beat you, but you had surprised him with a few hard hits of your own, proving that you weren’t a pushover.

-When Thor helped you up, you froze when he kneeled, still holding onto one of your hands, pecking the back of it, “Marry me Y/N.”

-Your snakes all froze, their mouths falling open in shock, mirroring your own shock before he stood, thinking he came off too strong when you didn’t answer him, as your mind couldn’t comprehend what you just heard.

-Thor was serious, returning to you each day with different gifts, from bouquets of flowers to sword and other weapons, asking you each day to marry him.

-He was blunt and straightforward, but it was the unwavering look in his eyes that made you realize this wasn’t just a prank, he was serious about courting you.

-You managed to make him freeze when he brought you another sword, expertly crafted and you handed him a necklace, the pendant being carved emerald, matching the green in your scales as you turned, feeling a bit shy, but your snakes were stretching out towards him, wanting him to give them affection, mirroring your inner emotions again.

-You were a powerful woman, but you were sometimes too adorable for your own good as he accepted, feeling happy that you were finally returning his courting attempts. Now if you would just say yes to his proposal.

[bloodismymedium]

Mona x Tina Toxic Yuri Headcanons because I’m a bad person 🫀🌸🔪🧁

Ya’ll can blame @dollsleeper for giving me the toxic yuri bug. I am officially a Tona shipper thanks to them XD

TW: references to sexual assault, stockholm syndrome, stalking and abuse

☠️ Mona didn’t think much of Tina when she first laid eyes on her, she was just another piece of meat to be used in her art, what really made her fall in love with Tina was when she heard her scream. She heard so many screams before her and always took twisted pleasure in hearing the screams of her victims but Tina’s screams just hit different, it was like a beautiful song to her and she wanted to hear it forever. Ironically, Tina’s screaming was what saved her life because it made Mona do what she never did with any of her victims… she hesitated in killing her. Mona would have many lesbian thoughts about Tina since that fateful day, she often wondered how soft her hair must be and how much she yearned to smell the perfume on her body again.

☠️ Mona became completely obsessed with Tina after hearing that beautiful scream of her’s and would end up stalking her for the next two years, memorizing her schedule, occasionally stealing her belongings but she didn’t make a move on her until after watching her interview. Mona took Tina’s “once’ve you’ve been to hell, you don’t come back” quote as a sign that Tina wanted to come back to her, like a piece of her was still with Mona since that day and she was beckoning Mona to take her back… It was the most romantic thing Mona ever heard in her life.

☠️ Mona actually tries to make sure Tina is as comfortable as possible. She took her beautiful, bloodstained lace bedsheets with her to put over the dirty mattress she has Tina placed on, she actually cooks her food even if they don’t turn out right most of the time, she’ll cuddle up with her if she looks like she’s cold, she’ll check to see if the pretty pink collar she picked out for her isn’t too tight, she even bathes her semi-frequently.

☠️ Tina is constantly trying to fight off the warm, fuzzy feelings that Mona gives her. She doesn’t want to admit how much she melts when Mona touches her thigh, she hates how good she feels when Mona says things like “you inspire me so much” and “you’re so pretty when you cry”, she finds herself actually blushing when Mona compliments her. Every day is an inner war to stop herself from falling in love with the woman who killed everyone around her, dismembered her and now keeps her hostage in what looks and smells like a lived in sewer.

☠️ Tina hates herself for finding Mona so pretty, she’s a monster, one who killed her sister, her boyfriend and her mother, mutilated her, keeping her alive just to treat her like some kind of toy or pet… and yet she thinks her long, black hair is so pretty, her eyes so beautifully haunting, the expressions she makes when she paints those horrible portraits are strangely charming, that course yet oddly soothing voice that makes her feel a strange combo of fear and comfort. She just can’t keep Mona out of her head and she hates it.

☠️ Mona loves to doll up Tina, dressing her up in pretty outfits and doing her makeup, trying out different hairstyles, she would even do her nails if she still had hands. Tina hates this but she’s learned not to fight back, having come to fear making Mona angry and besides, every day, against her better judgement she likes Mona’s games of dress up a tiny bit more. Mona knows this too, remembering the time when Tina blushed after Mona said she had good fashion sense.

☠️ Mona and Tina surprisingly have a lot of common. They both have a major sweet tooth, they both have a love for nature even though Tina is a deer girl and flower enjoyer while Mona is a rat and bug lady who collects molds, spores and fungus, they both have artistic talent and an interest in the arts (Tina being a knitter and sewer) and they even have a shared quirk in a tendency to play around with their hair when bored or anxious.

☠️ Tina is bisexual but she’s kept her sexuality a secret from her mother since she’s a conservative christian type and she feared she wouldn’t accept her if she found out, Jack and Flora both knew however. It can be surmised that Mona is pan since she has a very “a hole is a hole” mentality when it comes to sex but she wouldn’t identify as pansexual since she doesn’t really care for labels.

☠️ Shockingly, Mona hasn’t gone too far in forcing herself upon Tina. She could easily subject her to her darkest, sexual fantasies like she has done to so many others and you better believe she’s had some real devious thoughts and yet the worst she’s done to her is groping/squeezing her breasts and thighs on a regular basis or licking her face. Tina of course is horrified and disgusted by these acts and yet… why does her face and nethers feel so warm when she does it? And why does she whimper and mew the way she does when Mona bites her neck and shoulders even when she draws blood? And why does she always kind of look forward to when Mona cuddles up to her even when she’s soaking in blood?…

☠️ Bill is VERY jealous of all the attention Tina gets from Mona and is always thinking about murdering and getting rid of her so that he can be Mona’s “favorite” again but has enough smarts left to know that he would be severely punished, maybe even killed if he did so he has no choice but to grit and bare it. His patience will always be tested when Mona talks about her while they’re out murdering like when Mona finds some kind of accessory or article of clothing and will ask Bill “do you think Tina would like this?”. Bill will scare the shit out of Tina when Mona isn’t around in a vain attempt at revenge against her.

[yournaothings]

The Fight Part One

Dream wasn't a Sans.

He was a Guardian of Positivity made to look like one.

How strange it was to finally see what it was like to fight another version of yourself.

---

@bored-animator

Hello everyone~ Sorry for the long wait!

Oh. That was a long break in between chapters. I kind of did a little summary in this chapter.

I had to be in the right mindset for this one. Rollercoaster of emotions are not fun, but here we are! I'm excited for you all to read this chapter! Please be aware, there is violence and death in this chapter. So, please take care while reading. <3

Characters and their Creators: Nightmare Sans: Jokublog Dream Sans: Jokublog Shattered Dream: galacii

Atara Sol: @cactobutt

The memories played over and over again as if it was a loop. 

She knew they were not her memories, but the one who attacked her; the one who put this spell over her soul that caused her to fall ill. 

A tree full of golden fruit stood tall and proud on top of a hill; at the base were two young skeleton monsters. One with a smile that was as bright as the sun while the other frowned with nervousness. The villagers were once again asking for a share of the delicious Golden Apples; “We can’t let you have the fruit.” The meek skeleton explained. “It is our duty to protect the tree and her fruit.” 

The villagers were unhappy with this, but the brighter skeleton chirped with eagerness that he could aid them. If they couldn’t have the fruit, they would just have to do with the help of one of the Guardians. 

Soon enough it became clear the villagers’ greed got to them and they planned to take the tree whether the Guardians liked it or not. It was a terrible fate; the Negative Guardian was beaten and very near killed. He ate from the tree, an apple that immediately rotten and corrupted as he took a bite. His body breaking as the corruption filled and swallowed his body whole. 

A being like the one who had hurt her. Yet, this one was different. His cyan eye was cruel as he killed all of the villagers. And when his brother came to stop him, he ate a Golden Apple that turned him to stone- the corrupted brother left him and the Multiverse was filled with such darkness. 

Fate was cruel for these two brothers, and it broke her heart to watch. 

The moment the Positive Guardian woke from his stone prison, he was overwhelmed with the power of Negativity and knew he had to stop his brother. With little knowledge, the Positive skeleton ventured out into the Multiverse to hunt for his brother. To stop him. 

On the way, he met so many monsters and humans who helped him on the way. But, nothing could stop him from making that dreadful decision of living through what his brother had. The Positive one ate from the corrupted Apple and the roles were reversed. 

The Positive Guardian became stronger than before, feeding from both Negativity and Positivity. He was angry, yet he wept for the pain his twin brother had faced. From the villagers, the Multiverse, Fate itself. He was angry at his brother for letting him choose this path. He was angry at the villagers for hurting his brother. He would make them pay- 

 “How unfortunate for you, my dear. You are the only one left alive to pay for your ancestors' crimes against my family.” 

It’s not fair. 

It’s not my fault. 

It was so long ago, why attack someone who had nothing to do with that incident? 

It wasn’t fair. 

“I wish I had never been born…” 

“Don’t say that.”

That voice. It was familiar, yet not… 

But, it’s true. If I hadn’t been born, this wouldn’t be happening to me. 

“That’s exactly what he wants you to think. He wants to tear you down until there is nothing left. Don’t let him win.”

The memories faded and once again Norah was in darkness; yet before her was the sun- no. An angel. His presence was comforting and gave her a taste of peace. The darkness all around flinched but did not scramble away. Black tendrils wrapped around her arms, but they were weak and she could see her angel reach out for her. 

“I think it’s time to wake up, Norah. Your family is here with you.”

With the bright light like the sun blocking her view of his face, Norah hadn’t a clue as to who was here saving her. But, she knew he could be trusted. She slowly reached her hand out for his, and when her delicate fingers wrapped around his hand, his closed around hers and he pulled her onto her feet, the tendrils ripping away from her. 

The peace that surrounded her was like a fresh breath of air. He pulled her forward as gently as he could, his arms wrapping around her body and embraced her. He was warm. He was so warm. Norah felt herself ease into his embrace, her eyes closing; She felt painless, peaceful. Her delicate arms wrapped around his middle and she rested her head on his chest. For once in the last… Stars knows how long she was able to rest. 

“I got you, Norah. I got you.”

“It’s time to wake up.”

—---

Norah was in a daze. 

Everything was happening too fast; she was surprised she could even remember how to speak. 

The Skeleton monster who pulled her from her slumber looks so much like her attacker. But, he lacks the black goop that dribbled down his body. Instead, he was as bright as the sun. Her angel. He looked a lot like that young skeleton monster in the memories she was forced to watch. 

You will watch! You will remember what you did to me and my brother!

She remembered how he screamed at her. How angry he was at her- no, not at her. She was sure he saw someone else then. Still, it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t to blame. 

“You.. You’re not the doctor, right?” She asked, she had to be sure. “He can disguise himself.” 

The room fell silent, the four humans had to take a moment for that to settle in their minds. Dream tensed, he looked so worried now. “I am not the doctor, Norah. But, the way you describe him… Tell me, have you seen his face?” Norah nodded, and she gestures towards him. “He looks just like you, but with black goo.” 

Felix was up on his feet in an instant, his anger returning fast. “You’re the attacker?!” Dream raised his hands to try and calm Felix down. He was so confused; the only one he knew with black goo was his brother. But, he supposed there could be a possibility someone could shapeshift. But with black goo? 

“I am not the doctor.” He repeated to Felix. “I do not have the corruption she is talking about either.” He turned his attention to Norah then. “Did he tell you his name?” Norah shook her head at that. She paused and closed her eyes as a dizzy spell hit her after such a small motion. “When he is a doctor, he looks like a normal monster. But, when no one is around, he is back to his black goo body with those tendrils behind him. He wears a crown on his head, or… Not a crown, but a circlet? It looks like two hands reaching for each other in the center- ah, like this.” 

Norah demonstrates what she was meaning by bringing her hands together, one with the palm turned up and the other with the palm turned down, both in a cupping motion as if they were reaching to grab onto each other. ((Or to fist bump))

Norah lifted her eyes from her hands to look at Dream and she felt her heart skip a beat before picking up its pace. His face paled and the fearful look he gave wasn’t helping ease her panic. Still, she continued to explain; “His one good eye was golden, like yours. But, he holds no compassion, no happiness in that eye. He said that my ancestors had hurt his family long ago and that I had to pay for their crimes.” 

“What the fuck-?!” Felix shouted, Maria snapped at him to not shout or curse in the hospital. Norah ignored Felix’s outburst as she watched Dream slip into his thoughts. She frowned and as she reached her hand out to touch his shoulder to comfort him, the doctor walked in. 

“Well, this is quite the surprise.” 

Everyone in the room turned their attention to the entryway where the doctor stood. His false smile stretched across his lips as he studied the room.  “What a relief, you are awake, Norah-” 

“Enough pretending, you prick.” Felix snapped, his anger targeted at the doctor now. “We know you’re the one who hurt Norah. Drop the fucking act.” His tone dripped with venom, he sounded ready to fight. To tear the asshole into pieces. 

“I see.” The doctor said gently, his smile falling for a moment, before he grinned cruelly. “What a relief. This play-pretend was getting old.” The six of them watched in horror as the disguise fell away to reveal a skeleton monster; his black goo, the corruption dripped off of his body and the tentacles at his back swayed like a cat’s tail would.  

Just as Norah said, the monster looked exactly like Dream, but with the corruption covering his entire body. Dream noted how the damaged eye socket was opposite of his brother’s. “Who are you?” Dream demanded, stepping in between the monster and the small family. He balled his fists at his sides- he wasn’t all alarmed when his weapons didn’t materialize in his grasp. He left them behind, after all. 

“Dream~” The monster purred, his grin widening. “I was surprised you showed up here. At first, I thought you came to stop me, but when I noticed the depression and sadness, I knew you were simply following the same path I did.” 

“What are you talking about? How do you know about me? Explain yourself!” Dream demanded, panic settling in his soul that he refused to show. However, this monster before him seemed to know exactly what he was hiding.  “Do you not get it, yet?” The monster laughed. “I am you. My name is Dream- well, not exactly. See, I used to be like you. Until my last fight with my corrupted brother. After he accused me of not knowing his pain, I ate the black apple, and my soul shattered; I became corrupted myself while my brother was back to normal.

“So, yes. I am Dream, but I go by a different name now; I am called Shattered Dream.”

“Why have you attacked this innocent woman?” Dream asked with a stern frown. He stood tall, a barrier between the human mage, her family, and this monster. 

Shattered found it interesting that his variant didn’t summon his weapons; and what’s this? No circlet? His cruel smile widened, his tendrils at his back swayed with amusement. “It is truly unfortunate for her. I have tracked down every family that has ever hurt Nightmare. Each one fell easily, without much pain. I was at least merciful with them. But, with her. Sweet little Norah? Her ancestors were the ones responsible for striking Nightmare down. The ones who lied to my face and used me. Fate was cruel to Norah-”

Surprisingly, Dream kicked off the tiled floor and threw a punch at Shattered. The corrupted Guardian didn’t expect Dream to do such a thing. Dream quickly backed away to take his place between Shattered and the mortals, his stance wider and ready for a fight. 

“Heh,” Shattered chuckled as he slowly turned his head to smirk at Dream, he wiped away the little mana that leaked from his wound on his face. “Are you really that angry at me for a mortal you have just met? Dream,” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, his eyes closing as he shook his head. His smirk widened as he looked at Dream with such a wicked gaze. “When will you learn that you gain nothing from helping these fools?” 

“Traveling the Multiverse and saving Universes that never repay you? Always take, take, taking! You’ve not changed! It’s the Apple Event all over again!” Shattered exclaimed, his tentacles whipping behind him as he raised his voice to Dream. 

Norah cowered on her hospital bed, Felix staying as close to her as she could to protect her. Lily and Kai stepped in front of their mother, keeping her behind them in case things got bad. Maria remained in the back, fearful not for herself, but for everyone. For Dream. Each and every mortal remained silent, fearing what the corrupted monster would do if anyone were to break the silence.

Dream’s stern look dipped into a glare. Sweat was beading at his forehead; he was beating himself up mentally for leaving his weapons behind. He didn’t think anything like this would happen! 

“I have retired from my duties as a Guardian, so no. It’s not the Apple Event.” Dream narrows his eyes at Shattered. “What I do with my life is of no concern to you.” 

Shattered raised a corrupted brow. “Oh?” He looked amused. “How strange, you broke the loop, then?” Dream kept his glare set on his features, but he was confused. What loop? Sensing his confusion, Shattered dived into Dream’s emotions, pulling out everything he has been feeling these last few weeks- and oh~ How delicious~ 

Dream gasped when Shattered suddenly teleported behind him, his hands grasping Dream’s shoulders and his tentacles surrounding the Guardian. Dream flinched and attempted to break free, but the tentacles found new purchase elsewhere. “You poor thing. Has Nighty really beaten you down enough to make you think all of that?” 

“Shut up! Get off of me!” Dream shoved Shattered away, but he didn’t budge. “Poor Dreamy~ Do you truly believe that you’re so weak?” Shattered laughed. “In this form, you are weak. But you can become stronger! You can defeat your brother and take over the Multiverse!” He leaned in, whispering in Dream’s ear canal all while Dream struggled against him. “We can work together. We can rule the Multiverse! There are many others like us out there, Dream~ Think of the possibilities!” 

“I said,” Dream growled and with a burst of magic straight from his soul, he shoved Shattered back and across the room. “Get off!” 

Kai was quick to pull his sister and mother out of the way as Shattered flew past them and hit the wall. The impact was strong enough it fractured the thick hospital windows. However, it didn’t hurt Shattered as bad as it did the wall. “Such anger~” He laughs at Dream as his tentacles freed him from the wall and he stood tall, his hands held behind his back as if he wasn’t just thrown across the room. His cruel smirk found its way back on his jaw, he looked pleased. “See? Using that negativity will make you stronger, my dear Dream. If only you had used it against Nighty before, you would have won.”

“Shut up!” Dream snapped at him, his anger finally boiling over. He balled his fists as he confronted his newest enemy. “Anger gets you nowhere! It does not win the fight!” Shattered chuckled and raised a brow. “Oh? So, you plan to lose to me?” Dream’s shoulders relaxed as he inhaled deeply and exhaled. He blinked and tried to focus. “I will stop you, Shattered Dream. But, I will use the magic that was given to me. I will use Positivity to stop you.” 

“Even if I can feed on either?” 

The startled gasp that Dream released was enough for Shattered to know; Dream didn’t know. Shattered’s smirk widened cruelly and his tentacles shot out from behind him, grabbing Dream and slamming him through the windows until he was shot out from the second floor. 

“Dream!” Maria and Lily yelled; Lily and Felix were quick to summon their magic, preparing to fight Shattered. He turned to them and laughed. “How cute, do you honestly believe you can defeat me?” 

“Mom! You and Kai take Norah out of here. Get somewhere safe!” Lily barked the orders, her glare fixed on Shattered. Maria hesitated, but knew she had to get Norah out of here. “Come on, Kai.” She said quickly, her son hurrying over to pull the IV and blood pressure cuff from her before scooping her up and hurrying out with his mother. 

“Foolish.” Shattered laughed. “I will find her. I will always be able to find her, until she takes her last breath.” He smirks at the couple and opens his arms wide, his tentacles splayed out behind him; their pointed sharp tips directed at them. “Let’s see what you’ve got!” 

—

If Dream wasn’t used to Nightmare tossing him around in their fights, this would have been way worse than it is. 

Groaning, Dream slowly pulls himself from the wet bushes that caught his fall. He had scratches and bruises all over his body. The glass had sliced through his sweater and pants. Mana flowed from his wounds as he moved to stand on his feet. 

This wasn’t good. 

Like an idiot, he left his weapons behind. They were so far away- 

He raised his hand and tried to call for them, but nothing happened. “Crap.” He hissed and tried to see where he landed. He didn’t go too far, the glass having stopped him from being shot out across the parking lot of the hospital. Thank the Stars he landed in the bushes. 

“Oh no! The others!” He exclaimed in panic and started to make a run for it, but his leg gave out suddenly and he fell with a yelp of pain. Panting hard, he took a moment to let the pain pass before he rolled over onto his bottom and glanced down at his leg. It didn’t look broken, but it could be fractured.. He could feel his magic begin to heal himself, but he didn’t have time to wait-

“Dream! Oh thank heavens!” 

Startled, Dream raised his gaze and glanced behind him to find Maria and Kai with Norah. “You made it out!” He blabbered in surprise. “W-Where are the others? Felix and Lily?” Kai nodded his head towards the window the Guardian had fallen out of. “They’re facing off that bastard.” Dream gasped and tried to stand up once more. “They’re going to get killed! I have to stop them! I have to lead Shattered away from here! It’s not safe for everyone!” 

“Don’t move, sir!” Dream was surprised to see a few of the nurses come out from the hospital. “We have the authorities on the way. Please, sit down so we can take a look at you!” Dream shook his head. “I can’t do that. I have to stop Shattered Dream before he hurts or kills anyone else.” The nurses weren’t having it either; “Sir, we understand you want to help. But, you fell out of the second floor window. Please let us check you over!” Dream sighed and raised his sweater sleeve to show that he was healing.  “I can heal myself. It’s alright, I’ll be okay. Please, let me do my job.” 

He gently pushed them out of his way as he limped towards the entrance- 

“I see why you’ve retired.”

Dream grew tense as he stopped in place before spinning around to see Shattered had slipped out of the broken window with Felix and Lily caught in his tentacles. “You’ve let them fight your battle and now look at them.” 

“Lily! Felix!” 

“Shit!”

Felix and Lily were unconscious in Shattered’s hold. Both bleeding and bruised up. They really didn’t stand a chance against him. He carelessly tossed them to the ground in front of Dream, his smirk sharpening ever so slowly as he felt the rage build within Dream. 

“Ar-Are they alive?” Maria asked breathlessly as Dream knelt down to check them, his magic immediately soaking into their bodies to begin healing them. “They’re alive, Maria. They’ll be okay.” He sighed in relief before raising his gaze to glare at Shattered. The bastard stood there waiting, watching in amusement. “What are you gaining by hurting these people?” Dream asks. 

“I already explained my reasoning.” Shattered said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m only here for Norah. The others just got in my way.” His own gaze shifted away from Dream and watched Norah cowarded in Kai’s arms and he grins. “Now, if you don’t mind. I’d like to finish my task and leave. I think you’ll be coming along as well, Dream.” The Guardian hissed at Shattered; “Like hell I will!” Without turning away from Shattered, Dream commanded the nurses to get the two unconscious inside, and for Maria and Kai to get as far away as possible. 

He straightened and started to walk towards Shattered, all the while trying to come up with a plan to stop him. Shattered chuckled in amusement and readied his tentacles. “You won’t be able to defeat me like that, I’m afraid. If you can’t summon your weapons, how are you going to stop me?” Dream tightened his fists as he tried not to show Shattered his nervousness- he probably felt it. 

Before he could speak, a strange crystal like portal appeared to Dream’s right ((Shattered left)) and a thick boot came through, stomping onto the wet grassy ground. A young woman about Lily’s height ((without the boots)) stepped through and grinned. “What did I miss?” 

Her hair was two colors, black and red; her bangs were a blood red while the rest a pitch black. She had many piercings on her ears, her nose- there were too many to count. And let’s not get started on her tattoos… Her outfit was rather revealing- a crop top that showed off her midriff, her bellybutton was pierced too and her shorts were well.. Short. Her boots only stopped above her ankles. Dream averted his eyes quickly from her exposed legs, a yellow flush dusting over his cheekbones. 

The woman glanced around the group, taking in the scene before she closes her eyes and nods. “I understand it.” Then, with a sudden burst of rage, she darted forward, a boot raising and slamming hard into Shattered midsection; the corrupted monster choked back a pained sound as he went flying back and hit a parked car, setting the alarm off. 

Spinning around, the woman glared at Dream with fire in her eyes. “You’re next, goldie.” 

Dream gulped as he backed away slowly, trying to explain that he wasn’t the enemy here- 

“Holy fuck, Atara!” Kai snapped, his eyes wide at how powerful that kick was. Norah cried in relief. “Atara!” Her soft voice calmed the enraged woman. “Norah! You’re awake!” 

Atara rushed past Dream and hugged Norah, making sure to not hurt her. “Are you alright? I’ve been so worried! When did you wake up?” Norah laughs softly and smiles wide, tears in her eyes. “I just woke up, thanks to Dream.” She points towards Goldie. Atara glanced over and grinned. “Hey, nice work, goldie!” 

“G-Goldie??” Dream asked, confused. Everything was happening too fast for his liking. 

“What’s the goopy guy’s deal, huh? He hurt my besties?” Atara asks as she crosses her arms and gives a stern glare. Dream glances back towards Shattered who appears to be dazed for the moment, before he moves to stand with the others. “He’s the one hurting Norah and is another version of myself. I need you all to get far away so you won’t get hurt anymore. This is my fight-” 

“Like hell it is!” Atara snapped at Dream, making him flinch at her volume. “He hurt my best friend! I’m going to pound him into the ground! He’ll be part of the fucking asphalt when I’m through with him!” She threatens and pounds her fist into her hand. “He’s strong, Felix and Lily weren’t able to stop him.” Kai explained. “That’s okay. I’m strong. I can do it.” Atara grins; Dream couldn’t help but think of Undyne. This woman was too much like her. 

Turning around, Atara shakes her arms and stretches out, readying herself for a fight. Her look an excited determined one; “Besides, Red won’t let me go to those underground fights anymore. I’m dying to get some punches in!” She explains. Dream is surprised by the name she dropped- “You mean… Underfell Sans?” 

“Yes,” Maria sighs, exasperated. “She is in a relationship with Red. She always says they’re fine, but I worry.” Dream blinks as he looks at her before glancing towards Atara, watching her stomp her way over towards Shattered. ((He was slowly climbing to his feet, anger boiling through his corrupted body))

“You disgusting mortal!” Shattered snapped, his tentacles whipping around from his irritation. “You dare touch me?!” Atara grins eagerly, her fire back in her eyes. “You hurt my friends. I’m just repaying the favor. Come at me, wuss!” With her hands raised, one a fist the other beckoning Shattered to come at her, Atara prepared for a fight. 

Panicked, Dream called after her to wait- to get out of harm's way. What happened next, Dream didn’t expect. Angry, jagged tentacles flew at Atara and she deflected them each with a burst of magic. Upon impact, the sound of shattering glass was heard and if you looked very carefully, if you squinted… It looked as if walls of gems were shattering where the tentacles hit. 

With sadistic glee, Atara charged forwards and threw a punch at Shattered, missing. She kicked at him, and met a tentacle. She spun around and blasted the goopy skeleton with a burst of her magic. Shards of gems embedded themselves into Shattered, slicing through him and cutting down his tentacles. Of course, more grew immediately after, but Atara was keeping up with him. 

“You might have known her mother.” Maria began to speak. “Astraea was a very powerful sorceress. She enchanted crystals and gems and gave them to those in need of their power, as long as it was used for good.” Dream nods, the name is familiar. “The name rings a bell.” He tells Maria. “That is her only child, Atara Sol. She was raised in Underfell, has learned to fight and to be strong. After her mother passed away, she had gone through so much trauma. It has been a few years, but she has finally found her place with those skeleton brothers, Sans, or “Red” as they call him, as her partner.” 

“I can sense her strong soul.” Dream nods. “She shouldn’t be fighting, though. I should be fighting Shattered. And you should be leaving.” Dream lectures Maria and gives her a stern look. Maria couldn’t stop herself from laughing softly. “You have a determined spirit, Dream. But, you don’t understand. We’re here to help. You’re not on your own, Dream. Your friends are here to help you.” 

Dream glanced at Maria, her bright smile warmed his soul. Her positivity gave him strength. 

“Let us help, Dream. It’s the least we can do.” Norah’s soft voice caught his attention and had him turning to look at her. She stood in front of Kai as he helped balance her. She smiled and reached out for his hands, gently taking them in her own and gave them a squeeze. “You get stronger when you feed on Positivity? Let us help keep your strength up, then. Okay?” Her smile was just as bright, even after being asleep for so long. Her eyes sparkled even with the evening sky hovering over them. The parking lot lights were the only lights illuminating them; the clouds above covering the moon and stars. 

Dream sighs, his gaze falling to stare at their joined hands and he gives a firm squeeze back. “Okay, but the moment it gets too dangerous, you leave.” He says, looking up and back in her eyes, then to Kai and Maria. “I won’t have anyone getting hurt while I’m here.” The three nods, agreeing. “We will, Dream.” Maria promises. 

-

Tentacles covered the young woman, pointed tips ready to pierce her skin. With a yell, her magic burst forth and cut down the tentacles and a boot met his chest this time. Shattered was ready and used his freshly grown tentacles to roll himself back up right. He was getting angrier by the minute. This woman seemed to not grow tired! 

His teeth ground against each other as he used his magic to make copies of himself; one copy on his left, one on his right. “Okay, now it’s getting more interesting!” Atara snarked and readily met the first attack.

She used the tentacles to swing up onto them and ran down the length towards the first copycat, her boot meeting his face. His face separated like liquid before it eased back together around her ankle. Startled, Atara tried to pull her foot out before it was too late; the copy’s face stretched out, morphing into a tentacle and it threw Atara away from it. She hit the ground hard, but was quickly back on her feet. Growling out of frustration, she ran towards the copies and used her magic to tear them apart. 

Just like a Hydra, each time she split them in half, more copies appeared and soon she was surrounded. “Fuck!” She growled, having no time to react when tentacles rained down on her and gripped at her body. Holding her in place, they repaid each strike she gave them, and more. When they had their fun, they threw her out of the goopy pit before they returned back to Shattered Dream. 

Dream was at Atara’s side first, quickly checking over her wounds. “Are you okay?” He asked her, his magic already seeking out her wounds to heal. “I’m fine- ow.” She groaned when he accidentally touched a tender spot. “Looks like I’m out.” She said with a weak grin. “I’m tagging you in, now. Kick his ass for me, okay?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh softly. Even after getting beaten, this young woman could still joke around. “I’ll take care of him. Thank you.” He glanced back at Maria and Kai, both hurrying over with Norah. “Take her into the hospital and don’t come back out.” Maria began to argue; “Now, what did we just agree on-” 

“Maria.” With a stern snap of his voice, Dream gave her a serious look. “It’s time to go inside. I will take care of him.” Maria frowned. “Dream, please be safe.” She tells him and he nods. “I will do my best, Maria.” 

“Ugh,” Shattered grumbled as he suddenly appeared beside them. “It’s disgusting- why do you care for such lowly mortals, Dream? Look how fragile they are-” 

The motion was quick and no one knew it was going to happen. 

A tentacle, sharp as a blade, shot between Dream and Atara and plunged deep into Maria’s midsection; the tip poking out from the otherside. 

Shock was the first emotion Dream felt from all of the mortals. Then, rage and fear and panic. Screaming was heard, a mixture of Maria’s name and pure rage. Maria was raised high above them and tossed aside as if nothing but garbage. 

“Weak. That’s what they are, Dream.” Shattered spat, his grin cruel and sadistic. Blood dripped from the tentacle that pierced the caring mother. Rage filled Dream, he was so angry- “You didn’t have to kill her!” Shattered laughed loudly; “Oh, but I did. To prove my point, Dreamy~” 

“Get everyone into the hospital, Kai.” Dream commanded, his voice left no room for arguments. Kai shook as he felt lost; what was he supposed to do? If he left Norah here, she’d die too. But, he couldn’t leave his mother dying on the lawn of the hospital. Then, there was Atara- “Come on, big guy.” Atara’s beaten body was suddenly beside him. “Let’s do what Goldie says. It’s important, let’s do this. For your mother’s sake.” 

Kai trembled as he held back his tears, his sobs that wanted to come. He had to be strong.  Thankfully, a few staff of the hospital were able to come out to help bring the injured into the hospital. Leaving behind Dream and Shattered Dream. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Dream repeated, his anger now under control, yet his glare remained. “And I told you, I did. You’re acting foolish, Dream. Forget about these mortals. You want to become stronger? Leave them, and come with me. I will make you stronger. You will overcome and defeat your brother.” 

Dream remained silent for a moment longer before saying, “My intention isn’t to defeat my brother. It’s to save him. I know he’s in there, waiting to be saved.” 

“Dream!” Shattered shouted, his tentacles slapping on the ground in irritation. “He doesn’t want to be saved! Or have you not figured that out yet?” Shattered snapped, his grin long gone and replaced with a scowl. “It’s too late. Your brother is gone. I will show you that. If you come with me, we’ll go see your brother, and I will put an end to all of this nonsense!” 

“I don’t want your help.” Dream says. “I want you gone. To stop hurting my friends. You may have given up on your brother, but I haven’t.” 

Shattered sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Then you leave me no choice.” Dream was ready this time. The tentacles shot at him, ready to grab him and stab him. He dodged each one as best as he could, receiving more scratches and gashes. But, he carried on. Running towards Shattered, the best he could do for now was blast him with his magic and throw punches. 

He miscalculated an attack and was thrown back again, slamming into the ground. He raised his head to glare at his variant, the goopy version of himself raised high with his tentacles as he looked down on him. “Pathetic. You’re weak, Dream. Stop this now.” 

Refusing to give up, Dream climbed back onto his feet and got back into a fighting stance. Shattered snorted and rolled his eyes. He shrugged and grinned. “Stubborn boy.” His tentacles shot at Dream once again, ready to knock him down for good. 

However, blue strings suddenly wrapped around Shattered, startling the goopy Dream. “What the-?!” His tentacles were caught and strung up, before he was yanked back onto the ground where another goopy version of himself hovered over him. 

“How the tables have turned, brother. Looks like it is I who is saving you from bullies.”

[peppymintdreams]

Portrait of Disaster

Elias x Barista

The safe house was quiet for once, and Barista decided it was the perfect time to coax Elias into doing something creative.

“Alright,” Barista said, setting a stack of paper and some colored pencils on the table. “We’re drawing each other. No backing out.”

Elias raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You do realize my artistic talent peaked in kindergarten, right?”

“That’s fine. I just want to see how you see me.” Barista smiled sweetly, already sketching.

Elias narrowed his eyes, feeling suspicious but giving in anyway. “Fine. But don’t cry when mine turns out better than yours.”

For the next ten minutes, the room was filled with the sound of pencils scratching against paper and Elias muttering things like, “Why are hands so hard?” and “Does your hair even do that?”

“Done!” Barista announced proudly, sliding their paper toward Elias.

Elias leaned over to look and let out a low whistle. The drawing was actually really good—Barista had captured his smirk and messy hair perfectly. “Okay, okay, I see you, Van Gogh. This is actually impressive.”

“Your turn.” Barista grinned, eagerly reaching for his drawing.

Elias hesitated, holding the paper close to his chest. “Promise you won’t judge me.”

“I promise. Now hand it over!”

Reluctantly, Elias slid the paper across the table.

Barista took one look and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“What?!” Elias exclaimed, looking both defensive and slightly embarrassed. “It’s not that bad!”

Barista pointed at the paper, tears of laughter forming in their eyes. “Elias, why do I look like a spaghetti monster with eyes?!”

“It’s abstract!” Elias huffed, crossing his arms.

“And why am I holding... what is this? A baguette?”

“It’s a coffee cup!” Elias shot back, now blushing furiously. “You’re a barista! I was trying to be thematic!”

Barista wheezed, holding their stomach. “I look like the ghost of bad latte art!”

Elias tried to grab the paper back, but Barista held it out of reach, laughing even harder.

“Give it back! It’s a masterpiece!”

“No way,” Barista managed between giggles. “This is going on the fridge.”

“Don’t you dare,” Elias warned, but his smirk betrayed him.

Barista finally calmed down enough to frame the picture dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Elias’ true vision of me.”

Elias rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Just wait until you see my revenge sketch of you as a stick figure.”

Barista grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Revenge or not, I love it. You’re ridiculous, and I love you.”

Elias softened, his pretend grumpiness melting away. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too, Picasso wannabe.”

Barista laughed again, and Elias couldn’t help but join in, both of them savoring the silly moment in their little bubble of safety.

[squatch-and-stretch]

Chapter 4

After eating, sleeping arrangements for the time are sorted out— Stanford and Fiddleford share the couch, heads on opposite armrests. Luckily, Stanford has always been the type to curl up, and the couch is long enough that Fiddleford’s feet only reach his chest even when he sprawls. Stanley sleeps on the floor, an arrangement Fiddleford only agreed to after he gathered up enough pillows and blankets to make a decent little nest for him.

The twins fall asleep quickly enough, but Fiddleford struggles to settle down against the noises of other living creatures in his space. Stanley snorts and mumbles softly in his sleep. He's curled up against the wall, near Stanford’s head. Fiddleford can hear him, but if there’s any words in his sleepy rambles, he can’t make them out.

He used to like it, falling asleep to Stanford mumbling equations at his desk, or to Emma-May’s quiet breathing. The sounds of Stanford pacing and ranting and bumping into the walls kept him up once, but in a way, his current restfulness unnerves him all the more. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Stanford to wake up with a wide grin and bright yellow eyes, to grab him and finish in Stanford’s body what he started in his own.

It’s quiet outside. It often is. The beasts here are dangerous, but not numerous. Occasionally Fiddleford will be roused from his sleep by some nocturnal monster, but more often than not, it’s just quiet. He misses crickets. He misses coyotes.

Suddenly, Stanford shifts, one leg kicking out at the backrest as he curls up tighter. Fiddleford sits up immediately, drawing his legs away from Stanford and staring at the hunched form of him in the dark. He’s shaking, little noises of distress spilling from his pursed lips.

Thoughts of Bill’s possession and the danger he might pose are discarded immediately. Stanford, for all that he’s always been bulkier than Fiddleford, looks impossibly small where he’s curled, twitching on the couch.

“Stanford,” Fiddleford whisper-shouts, leaning a bit closer. “Wake up, hun, come on.”

Stanford doesn’t react. His hand clenches against the back of the couch, pushing at it weakly.

“Hey, come on, up you get,” Fiddleford insists, reaching out to take Stanford’s shoulder.

Before he can reach, Stanford’s eye shoots open and a six-fingered grip takes his wrist firmly and twists. Fiddleford yelps, bracing a foot against Stanford’s leg as he scrambles to get away from his iron grip. Stanford follows his movement, sitting up like he’s being tugged along rather than consciously moving his own body.

He’s grinning, and even if it’s hard to make out the details of his eyes in the dim light, he knows they’re yellow, pupils slitted. From his eye, something dark runs down his cheek.

“Heya Specs! Good to see you again! Honestly, I’m surprised you’re alive!”

Fiddleford wants to retort back, say anything that would get that sickening grin off of Stanford’s face, but the words catch in his throat. He can’t say a thing.

“Nice talk, but you’re not the one I want to torment right now!” Bill says from Stanford’s mouth, and he gives Fiddleford’s wrist one final, painful squeeze before shoving him away and off the couch. “Where’s my inferior clone?”

Fiddleford hits the ground hard, unable to catch himself with his other hand. Instantly he turns towards where Stanley was resting. The terms of Bill’s possession are unclear, Fiddleford has no idea how to expel that demon from Stanford’s body without hurting him, or even with hurting him if it came to that.

What is clear, however, is the danger Bill’s occupation poses to both him and Stanley.

Fiddleford rolls onto his hand and knees to make his way towards Stanley— he doesn’t know what to do, but it’s bound to be easier if Stanley’s awake for it— but Bill reaches him first. He tumbles Stanford’s body over the arm of the couch, landing directly on top of Stanley.

“What the hell?” Stanley grunts, “get offa me, Ford!”

“Aw, why? Don’t you miss me, brother?” Bill teases. “Don’t you want a hug?”

Whatever Stanford does, it has Stanley crying out in pain. Fiddleford scrambles to his feet.

“Oh, he got you good didn’t he! Bet it really hurts! I’m jealous!” Bill continues, and Stanley’s shout trails off into the loud, shaky breaths of someone trying very hard not to agitate an injury.

“Ford— what—“ Stanley wheezes.

“It’s Bill!” Fiddleford corrects, looping an arm around Stanford’s neck in an attempt to pull him off of Stanley.

Bill lets out a choked laugh, one hand clawing at Stanley’s shoulder while the other scrambles against Fiddleford’s arm. His nails are short— Stanford always had a bad habit of chewing at them— but there’s enough there to dig into his skin.

“This is all your fault!” Bill wheezes. “As usual, you ruined everything, Mackerel! I tried to tell Sixer here that this would happen, but he trusted you! And look where it’s gotten us! You, branded like a cow, him, stuck in another world, and me without my portal!”

Branded. Stanley’s cry of pain, the way he’d been favoring one arm all day, his wince when Fiddleford mentioned burning himself—

“Let go, you damnable triangle!” Fiddleford snaps, and Stanley scrambles to get Stanford’s hand off of his shoulder just as Fiddleford throws his full weight backwards. It’s hard to keep him in place without support from his other arm, but it’s enough to pull him free.

“You worthless sack of rotting meat!” Bill snarls, wrenching himself free of Fiddleford’s grip now that he’s no longer wasting a hand on tormenting Stanley. “I will get what I want, and Palo Alto will be my first stop once I wipe Gravity Falls off the map! You’re about to miss a lot of birthdays, hick, but I’ll show Tater how to party!”

“You keep his name out of your mouth!” Fiddleford shouts, and before he can think better of it, he throws his full weight into a punch to Stanford’s jaw.

He doesn’t have a lot of weight, even less now than ever before, but it’s enough that Stanford stumbles, falls, and slams his temple into the break room countertop.

Fiddleford freezes, locked in the follow through. Stanley stares from where he’s sitting on the ground, a hand covering his shoulder, wide eyes flicking between Fiddleford and Stanford.

“… Hell of a left hook,” Stanley says faintly.

“Oh my lord,” Fiddleford breathes, and both of them scramble towards the unconscious form of Stanford at once.

“Hey, wake up, Poindexter,” Stanley demands, tapping Stanford’s cheek with an open palm.

Fiddleford grabs Stanford’s wrist, reminds himself that he's never been able to feel someone’s pulse there, and leans forward to rest his head on his chest instead, listening to the steady beat of his heart and feeling the way it rises and falls with each breath.

He didn’t kill him, thank the lord. Still, a potential brain injury is a potential brain injury and Stanley is right to try to wake him. Still, last time Fiddleford had tried to wake him…

“Stay here, be careful,” Fiddleford says, waiting for Stanley to acknowledge him— a confused glance, good enough— before he darts out of the break room.

Somewhere around here, in some pile of crap Fiddleford never got around to sorting through— ah, there it is. Fiddleford fishes a length of rope from a pile of scrap fabric, then retrieves the reading light from his desk.

Supplies successfully gathered, he returns to the break room. Stanley has moved Stanford so his head is resting in his lap, and keeps poking at him in an attempt to rouse him.

“Gonna need you to tie the knots,” Fiddleford says, handing over the rope as he settles down beside Stanford.

“What?” Stanley holds the rope limply, apparently baffled by its sudden presence in his hands.

“Tie his wrists, Stanley, I know he hurt you and I wanna make sure he doesn’t do it again.”

“Whaddya mean, I’m fine,” Stanley says quickly. “He was pushing you around too, wasn’t he? Are you fine?”

“Don’t even start with me,” Fiddleford sighs, “once we get Stanford sorted out, you’d best believe I’m checkin’ in on your shoulder.”

“What shoulder?” Stanley says, and then immediately winces.

“Just tie your brother's arms, will you?”

Stanley grumbles unhappily, but does so with unnerving ease. It’s not the first time he’s done something like this, Fiddleford reckons.

Once he’s bound, Fiddleford lets out a soft sigh of relief, letting himself rest his hand against Stanford’s chest, comforted by the feeling of his heart beating beneath his palm.

“Come on hun,” Fiddleford gently requests. “Why don’t ya wake up?”

“So, is calling your lab partner ‘hun’ a nerd thing or a southern thing?” Stanley says, absently continuing to poke at Stanford’s cheek even as he looks up at Fiddleford with a shit-eating grin.

“Is now really the time?” Fiddleford hisses.

“Hey, I find my fun where I can,” Stanley says with a tight shrug. He pinches either side of Stanford’s lips, parting them as he talks in a mocking voice. “I’m Stanford Pines, I want to make out with Nikola Tesla, polynomial equations, and maybe my lab assistant!”

“Will you hush up?” Fiddleford snaps, feeling his cheeks go red. Still, there’s something to be said for the redirection of the tension in the room.

Then, Stanford groans softly, and all that tension returns. Stanley pulls his hand away as if burnt. Fiddleford moves his hand down to Stanford’s bound wrists, checking the knots there.

“Nnn… wha…” Stanford‘s eyes open slowly.

As soon as they do, Fiddleford is flicking the reading light on and shining it into his eyes. He immediately hisses and squeezes them shut, but Fiddleford catches a glimpse of his round pupils before he does.

“Wh—“ Stanford grumbles, before he suddenly bolts upright. “Stanley!”

“Right here, Six,” Stanley says calmly, leaning away just in time to avoid getting headbutted.

“He— Bill, he wanted to— he blamed you for ruining the portal, stranding me on this side where I couldn’t help him, he wanted to— and he wasn’t even the one—“

Stanford trails off, looking at Stanley with wide, desperate eyes before he leans his head forward, resting it on Stanley’s uninjured shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Stanley unties his brother’s wrists and wraps his arm around him, sighing into his hair as he leans his cheek against the top of his head.

“Stanley…” Stanford whines, like a child seeking comfort.

“I got you,” Stanley says carefully. Fiddleford meets his eyes, and sees the uncertainty there. “We’re gonna figure this out, Ford.”

“We’d better,” Fiddleford agrees, and Stanford curls tighter into Stanley’s arms at the sound of his voice. He tries not to take it personally. “We did most of the hard work, if that equilateral bastard can find some other schmuck to break in and finish it off, it’s over.”

Stanford peels himself away from Stanley, turning to look at Fiddleford. His eyes are wet, cheeks ruddy. There's blood smeared down one of them, the few tears he allowed to slip doing little to dilute it.

“I’m— I’m so sorry, Fiddleford,” Stanford says, half reaching for him as well.

Fiddleford sighs helplessly, and catches Stanford’s hand before it can retreat. Despite the bruise Bill had pressed into his wrist with these same hands, the six fingers fitting comfortably between his own are as soothing as they’ve ever been.

It’s not like Stanford never apologizes, but it’s a rare occurrence. He’ll apologize for little things, like waking Fiddleford up at some ungodly hour, but never for the larger strokes, like almost getting Fiddleford killed again and again. If Stanford was actually invested in his actions, getting him to apologize for them was like pulling teeth.

And in the time since their reunion, there was nothing he was more invested in than that portal.

“You— you were right about everything. I should have listened to you, I can’t believe I was so foolish!”

“Dumbest genius I’ve ever met,” Fiddleford agrees, and the resigned hurt on Stanford’s face has him squeezing his hand in an attempt at comfort. “But you’re still a genius. If anyone can figure out how to stop him, I reckon it’s us.”

(Un)happy Reunion

Ford Pines & Stan Pines & Fiddleford McGucket | 3,143 words | Mystery Trio Through the Multiverse AU

Fiddleford reunites with Stanford and meets Stanley after 6 months alone in a post-apocalyptic city in some other dimension.

Chapter 1

see notes for future chapters!

If Fiddleford had to describe this world he’s spent the past 6 months in in a single word, he’d probably choose terrible. Other descriptors such as strange, horrible, post-apocalyptic, and dangerous also come to mind. Lately, though, he’s been putting a lot of thought into the word lonely.

There were intelligent species here, once. It’s clear in the almost-familiar design of this destroyed city, in the tattered books written in a language Fiddleford can’t make any sense of, in every little item he comes across. He even has an idea of what they looked like— he’s seen their art, their pictures, their mangled bodies— and Fiddleford has to wonder if Bill understood the cruel irony of sending him to a world that was once inhabited by pig people.

He wonders, sometimes, if he could have found a way to communicate with them, if any of them were left. Would his throat have been able to form the words of their language, or theirs his? Would they have tried to help him? Just being around another living creature that didn’t try to kill him on sight would be pretty nice right now.

Unfortunately, that’s never been what this planet has in store for him, and when he hears something move nearby, he knows it’s a threat.

It must be in the next alleyway, and it’s fairly big— most of the monsters Bill left here are. Fiddleford goes still, staring in the direction of the alleyway and listening for any other sign of movement. It’s quiet for a moment, until Fiddleford hears a loud crash and what sounds like hushed murmuring. So many things have sounded like human voices lately that he doesn’t put any stock into it, just dips into the nearest alleyway in an attempt to escape whatever is making that noise before it even knows he’s here.

It’s an attempt that fails immediately, as he crashes into a pile of shredded metal like an idiot. It slices through the worn fabric of his pants, but as far as he can tell it doesn’t reach skin. It does, however, make a very loud noise, and the not-voices go quiet.

“Son of a gun,” he allows himself to hiss, and he takes off down the alleyway without any further regard to the sound he’s making.

Something steps out in front of him, blocking his way. It’s taller than the previous inhabitants of this planet, but smaller than most of the monsters he’s encountered. It’s built a lot like a person, and not a particularly imposing one at that, so Fiddleford doesn’t slow his roll for a moment. He fishes a knife out of the tattered pocket of his lab coat, and slams his shoulder into the beast.

It cries out, still sounding a heck of a lot like a person as it hits the ground, breaking Fiddleford’s fall. He presses the knife to what should be its throat, and is almost surprised to find smooth, human-looking skin beneath his blade. It’s a familiar shade, even, and Fiddleford can’t help but let his eyes wander further up to its face—

“Stanford?” Fiddleford spits, downright baffled to see his big brown eyes looking up at him.

Stanford opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Fiddleford is being hauled off of him. Something has grabbed the back of his scarf and pulled it tight, tight enough that Fiddleford gags against the construction, tight enough that he’s reminded of Bill’s hand around him, crushing the breath from his lungs, and suddenly he’s being slammed against the brick wall of the alleyway and crushed between Bill’s uncaring fingers and—

“Stanley!”

That’s Stanford’s voice, he’d recognize it anywhere, but how is he here?

“Who the fuck—“

A voice, closer than Stanford’s, unfamiliar but definitely not Bill. It’s a person that’s holding him, and even if he’s struggling to breathe against the arm pressed to his throat, he can deal with a person.

Fiddleford kicks out, slamming his knee between the legs of his assailant.

“Son of a—!” he shouts, but he lets go of Fiddleford to stumble back.

“Stop! Stanley, this is Fiddleford! He’s the reason we’re here!” Stanford says, inserting himself between the two of them. “Well, he’s the reason I wanted to be here. You’re the reason you’re here and we don’t know how to get back.”

Yep, that insufferable holier-than-thou tone is definitely Stanford.

“I’m the reason you’re here?” Fiddleford chokes, rubbing his throat as he tries to regain his bearings. “It’s your fault I’m here!”

“I know that!” Stanford says, turning to Fiddleford.

Stanford looks about the same as he left him, beyond the dark circles under his eyes. Fiddleford knows the same can’t be said about himself.

“Listen, Fiddleford, I—“

“Save it, Stanford,” Fiddleford snaps, shaking his head as he turns towards the other man in the alleyway. “You must be Stanley?”

When Fiddleford first heard about Stanford’s twin, he imagined a carbon copy of his then-roommate. Stanley is not that. They’re nearly identical in the shapes of their faces, the texture and shade of their hair, the slope and color of their eyes, but the similarities end there. Put simply, Stanley looks like shit, with long, tangled hair, an unshaven face, and dark circles to rival Stanford’s, all wrapped up in a ratty jacket over an even rattier shirt. Even the way he holds himself is worrying, the way he’s hunched in on himself like a coiled spring, turned to the side like he’s keeping something just out of sight, eyes weary, teeth grit.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Stanley grumbles, and he draws himself even tighter. Even in conversation he’s locked on the defensive, and with the brief glimpse of an interaction between him and Stanford, Fiddleford can’t say he blames him.

“Nice ta meet ya, Stanley. I’d offer to shake your hand, but mine seems to be missin’,” Fiddleford greets. “Well, not missin’ exactly, I know where it is, but it ain’t doin’ me much good inside the stomach of some rottin’ monster.”

“Your arm!” Stanford exclaims belatedly.

He grabs for Fiddleford’s shoulder, but Fiddleford quickly smacks his hand away, a shudder running through his body at the phantom sensation of someone grabbing at what remains of his arm. He steps away, eyeing Ford wearily, almost expecting him to try again.

He doesn’t. He brings his hand back, tucking it to his chest for just a moment, hurt in his eyes. After a moment, he clears his throat, straightens up, and tucks his hands behind his back.

“I take it that’s a new development?” Stanley says, watching Fiddleford carefully. The matching scrutinizing gazes of both twins sets Fiddleford even further on edge.

“I would never have allowed such grievous injury to come to him under my care!” Stanford huffs, glaring at Stanley.

Fiddleford barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“And who’s god-forsaken vanity project brought me here, Stanford?”

“Easy, Fiddlesticks,” Stanley cuts in before Stanford can respond. “None of us are happy to be here, but he—“

Fiddleford raises his hand. “Shut yer yap.”

“Okay, rude—“

“I mean it, don’t ya hear that?” Fiddleford hisses. It’s barely audible, not like Stanford and Stanley’s rustling in a nearby alleyway. Something is moving through the main streets.

“I don’t hear shit, except some hillbilly interrupting me wh—“

“I hear it,” Stanford says, and Stanley throws his arms up in frustration.

Click-click, drag, click-click, click-click. Three functional limbs, one dragging along, moving at a gradual, unhurried pace. The time between each step suggests a step length of perhaps a meter. It’s large, too large for Fiddleford to deal with without his arm, but likely small enough to fit into this alleyway. Stanley seems pretty tough, and Stanford had somehow held his own for 6 years in Gravity Falls despite its many dangers, but he wasn’t about to trust either of them in a fight against whatever unknown beast was approaching.

“It’s coming from—“ Stanford whispers, and despite the low volume, Fiddleford cringes at the sound.

“I know,” Fiddleford snips quietly, “follow me.”

Fiddleford doesn’t bother to check if either of them listened— Stanford reacts well to confidence, and with any luck, Stanley would as well— before he’s slinking out of the alleyway, carefully watching his step this time.

“Come on, dumbass,” Stanley hisses, and Fiddleford spares them a glance. Both have moved to follow, but Stanford is hesitating, looking behind him even as Stanley grabs his arm and pulls him along behind him.

“I just want a look—“ Stanford mumbles, shaking Stanley’s hand off.

“This ain’t Gravity Falls, Stanford, an’ I won’t hesitate to leave you ‘n’ your brother for mincemeat if you don’t hurry yer asses up!”

Stanford immediately turns towards Fiddleford, eyes wide, mouth parted in shock. Fiddleford glares at him, lets him truly believe he means it (Fiddleford knows he wouldn’t leave Stanford or his brother, damn him) before he turns back around and continues on the way. This time, Stanford and Stanley follow without any further prompting, though Fiddleford hears what sounds like an amused snort from Stanley at Stanford’s sudden obedience.

[rookdaw]

monster X monster hunter

[mayhasopinions]

i am going to throw myself out of a window

[dirtytransmasc]

[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.