#You know what else sounds horrific in the middle of the night?

[glasscatowl]

See, the thing I noticed the most about Tasmanian Devils when I met some irl is that they are, really, just sweet little guys. I mean, wild animals, do not touch, but they look and (within the scale of wild carnivorous predators) act relatively chill. (Emphasis on relatively, do not cuddle Tasmanian devils unless you are professionally trained in cuddling Tasmanian devils.) They have the strongest bite strength of any currently living land mammal, sure, and they eat like a horde of ravenous zombies, but that's not why they're called 'devils'. What gave them the name 'devil' is that they sound like demons emerging from hell. Look up what Tasmanian devils sound like and imagine first hearing that, with no warning, in a rickety motel in Launceston in the middle of the night.

So if we take this to refer to the real life animals, rather than the cartoon character, a Tasmanian Angel would be identical to a Tasmanian Devil in every way except that it would have a heavenly singing voice.

The Tasmanian Angel.

Just a sweet little guy

Feral monster that only eats bad people

Completely unchanged

Take your pick

[watchmegetobsessed]

TOO SWEET

A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNING: mention of blood and bruises

SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 

You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 

“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”

It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 

Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.

But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 

You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 

The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 

Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 

You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.

Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.

The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.

Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”

Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 

“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 

You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 

“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.

“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 

His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 

“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.

“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 

“I feel like I’m ruining you.”

“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”

“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.

Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 

“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 

You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.

“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.

“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.

“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”

Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 

“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely.”

Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.

“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.

“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 

“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.

“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[blu3n]

Hello!! I just found ur account and I’m in love with everything you have posted. How do you see a Jason who, for the first time, has to comfort someone else, his s/o, over a nightmare? He’s had them plenty of times himself but when it comes to someone else, someone he loves more than anything, I think he would be even more nervous and freaked then his partner😭

@applejuicebegood

August 16th Jason's Birthday .

author : @blu3n

Thank you for trusting me to write, I feel very honored that you believe in my potential.

warnings: triggers, death, a little gore!

typical violence in fact. 🪼

nightmares of the night

Everything seemed normal that day. You were laughing and having fun with your namorado, enjoying each other’s company until late hours while watching a random movie.

At about 11 PM, you started to feel sleepy. Jason noticed and asked you to sleep with him in bed. Unlike you, he didn’t fall asleep immediately; after all, his mind was trained for patrols or perhaps because of his constant nightmares.

"Good night, squirrel," Jason said after pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, protecting you.You would never sleep on the doorstep; he wouldn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to check on you. For your safety, he would make sure you slept against the wall.

Your eyes slowly closed as you felt the warmth of your boyfriend. Despite how muscular he was, you felt very comfortable sleeping next to him.Suddenly, your eyes opened after a brief nap.

Looking out the window, you realized it was still night, but what was strangest was that Jason was no longer by your side. Frowning, you decided to get out of bed to see where your boyfriend had gone.

"Jason?" You called out after a short yawn escaped your lips, scratching your belly in a sign of sleepiness. Looking around, you couldn’t find him anywhere.

Where on earth was your love?Shrugging your shoulders, you turned to go back to bed... when you heard the sound of *click* *click* *click*, followed by a louder *click* *click*.

It sounded like something heavy was being hit."Jason?" You hummed; you weren’t worried since it seemed like Jason was just hitting something.

"Lov—" That’s when the *clicks* stopped. Just as you were about to call him again, you felt something wet on your feet.

"Y/N?"

Something whispered in the back of your mind, but you didn’t know what it was.

Your feet seemed to move on their own, pulling you forward as if urging you to see what lay ahead.As you followed into the darkness... your eyes widened when you saw Jason’s exploded head on the floor.

"OH GOSH!" You screamed in panic."Jason?!" You called out louder and louder until you felt something move behind you.

Whoever it was touched your shoulder so forcefully that it caused pain. As petrified as you were, fear washed over you as the figure turned its face towards Jason’s body—it was him, but how? He never—Turning your gaze back, you were forced by the strange man to watch another being remove a crab foot lodged in Jason’s head and strike him again even while he was dead.

"Y/N?" The voice screamed now—loud—louder!

Before you could rationalize who the voice in the back of your mind belonged to or think of anything else, the figure stabbed you in the stomach, making you scream in pain.Your eyes flew open and you immediately sat up in bed, hyperventilating. "Baby... baby, it's me," Jason said with wide eyes filled with worry for you.

"You— I see..." His lips trembled; his eyes were wet as he remembered the horrific scene. You started crying in panic.

"Shh, come here." Jason knew what this felt like; he understood how terrible nightmares could be and how much comfort you'd brought him in similar moments.

He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead to calm you down.Jason would spend the rest of the night talking to you to help chase away the nightmare from your mind, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

He was embarrassed to help you like that, he didn't know how to be kind or romantic, but he was trying, he was trying in his own way to be affectionate even though he didn't really know how to do it.

He would bring you tea, or warm milk for you to drink after that nightmare or if you couldn't sleep. He would take care of you in his own way.

──────────

🪼 Thanks thanks

[justkindalivin]

Shotgun

a/n: AHHHHH hello!! I’m Lottie and I've been so horrifically obsessed with dealer Ellie that it's not even remotely okay. I had an idea for a fic and instead of requesting it from someone else, I decided why not write it myself! I’ve never posted any fics before bc I’m lowkey ass at writing so if any dialogue is awkward or the grammar is bad I'm so sorry :(  Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it, have a great day I love you ♡    part 2

I kinda modeled the reader after me subconsciously, so the reader is a bit shy and bi (sorry to my lesbian baddies I luv yall, its only one line). Also, I just made up a random roommate named Sam, very sorry if your name happens to be Sam. 

Summary: After being dragged to a party by your roommate, you escape out to the porch for some air. Not realizing it was already occupied, you end up having a lot more fun at the party than you thought you would 

warnings: language, modern!au, dealer!ellie, weed, shotgunning, collage!au, things get the tiniest bit spicy (only a tad)

wc: 1.6k 

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

The music pounded in your ears as you pushed past all the sweaty bodies in the middle of the room. Parties had never quite been your scene, but Sam had begged you to come with her and that girl does NOT take no for an answer

This all started with Sam bursting into your shared dorm, ripping your headphones out of your ears, and standing beside your desk with her hands on her hips. “Bitch, you never come out with me! It's like all you do is sit in the dorm all day, you gotta get out there!!” She excitedly screamed, pulling you to your closet to pick out what you should wear. 

You and Sam had been randomly paired as roommates but quickly got close despite how different the two of you seemed to be. Sam was always out at parties being social and seemed to know absolutely everyone on campus. You on the other hand... well were almost the exact opposite. You always joked that you were like the crotchety old man of your floor who only left for food or class, and just wants all those damn kids to quiet down while you’re trying to sleep. 

“Sigma Nu is throwing tonight, you HAVE to come with me. I’ll be lost without you please please please!” 

Sam was, in fact, not lost without you. She had practically ditched you the minute some frat boy asked her to play pong with him, leaving you alone and painfully sober in a sea of drunk college kids. As much as you loved Sam, she always seemed to do this whenever you come out with her. She’d beg that it wouldn't be fun without you but would leave as soon as you got there and you’d be stuck on babysitting detail for her drunk ass for the rest of the night. After about the fifth push and second drunk couple not noticing you leaned up against the wall and making out basically on top of you, you decided to leave in search of some desperately needed air. Weaving through sweaty drunk people should be a fucking Olympic sport because holy shit- you barely escaped with your life. After going through the kitchen, you finally found your way to a sliding door, quickly getting it open and stepping out into the cool night air. 

“Jesus christ why did I fucking come here,” you say under your breath, leaning against the porch railing and putting your head in your hands “And I can't even leave because I have to make sure Sam’s okay- god damn it”. Scrubbing your face with your hands, you look up at the sky and get lost in your own head until the sound of someone clearing their throat startles you. 

You quickly whip around, hand on your chest, to look at the other person who has also been occupying the porch without your noticing. A girl with short auburn hair and beautiful green eyes stands leaning up against the house. Her face is dotted with freckles and she’s wearing a comfy-looking flannel over a plain white tee, one hand shoved into the pocket of her jeans and the other holding a joint between two fingers. She is, without a doubt, one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen. You’re so entranced by her that you barely even notice when she says something to you. 

“oh...uhm- what?” you oh so eloquently reply, internally debating if you should throw yourself off the porch to make your escape from this awkward ass interaction. The girl smirks as her eyes scan you up and down- if you didn’t know any better you would think she was checking you out. 

“I said are you good? No offense but you kinda seem like you're freaking the fuck out” She repeats, smirk still present on her face as she brings the joint up to take a drag from it, blowing the smoke in your direction.

You blush, embarrassed that someone had been witness to your mini breakdown. “Yeah, I’m good. It's just a lot, you know? I don’t go to parties too often.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you cringe internally. Don’t go to parties a lot? You seriously couldn't think of anything cooler to say? Way to embarrass yourself in front of the hottest chick you’ve ever met. Your downward spiral continues until the girl breaks the quiet with a chuckle

“I get that, frats aren’t really my thing either but I get good business here so... here I am”. You nod your head, looking back up at the sky. “I’m Ellie, by the way. What's your name gorgeous?”. Your face feels like it's on fire, your brain practically short-circuiting trying to process that this actual goddess just called you gorgeous. You quietly tell her your name and when you look back at her, she has a wide smile stretching across her face. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

Holy shit this girl is going to be the death of you. You’re sure that your face is going to melt off from how hard you’ve been blushing, the ability to speak has left you altogether. You’ve had flings in the past, with both boys and girls, but no one has ever been so brazenly interested in you. You find yourself desperate to know more about her, maybe run your hands through her hair and cup her face as you lean in for a- WOAH. You’re goin wild right now, you need to cool down

“So um... what do you sell?” You ask, trying to change the topic and give yourself some time to chill out. Ellie looks at the joint in her hands, then back at you with raised eyebrows. “Right right, sorry stupid question” you huff while looking down, embarrassed yet again by your lack of rizz. Ellie lets out a full-on laugh, pushing herself off the house and making her way over to you.

“You ever smoked before, pretty girl?” she asks while leaning on the railing next to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off of her. Looking up, you’re surprised to see that her face is so close to yours that your noses are practically touching. 

“A few times, not a ton. I cough a lot though, so it's kinda embarrassing to do it with other people”. Ellie taps off the ash at the end of her joint, seemingly contemplating something before turning her attention back to you

“Well if you’re down to smoke, we can try a different way that maybe will help you cough less. That is, only if you want to”. You’re surprised by how quickly you accept her offer, asking her what she had in mind. Ellie moves from beside you to directly in front of you, planting her empty hand on your waist and bringing the joint she held in her other hand up to your face. “Okay, so it's called shotgunning. Just open your mouth after I take a hit, sound good?”. All you can do is nod, mesmerized as she brings the joint to her lips. The moon reflects off her soft skin, the end of the joint burning a deep orange as she inhales. After her hit, Ellie looks over at you and you do as she said. 

Flicking away what little is left from her blunt, Ellie cups your face with her now empty hand and brings her mouth to yours. As she’s kissing you she blows the smoke into your mouth, but you can barely concentrate, too focused on the feeling of her lips on yours. After only a few seconds, Ellie pulls away but keeps her forehead pressed to yours and you blow the smoke in her face as you both giggle.

You reach up and brush away a bit of hair that had fallen to cover Ellie’s eyes, running your fingers down the side of her face until you are cupping her cheek as well. You look at each other for a beat before you both lean in, lips meeting again. Ellie caresses your cheek before her hand moves to join her other one on your waist, finding their way under your shirt and stroking the skin there. She tries to deepen the kiss, licking your bottom lip which you playfully deny. Suddenly, Ellie pulls away for a moment to lift you up onto the porch railing. Your legs fall open and Ellie steps between them, connecting her lips to your neck and kissing down the side to your collarbone. Letting out a breathy moan, you grip the hair at the base of Ellie's neck and throw your head back. 

-SCHWOOP-

The noise startles you and you pull away from Ellie, much to her annoyance. Looking at the sliding glass door, you notice some obnoxious frat boy has thrown it open. 

“Hey, you deal right? I need a pre-roll if you have em”. Talk about a fucking cock block. Ellie all but growls into your neck, whipping around ready to give this dude the verbal thrashing of his life when you stop her by placing your hand on her shoulder. 

“It's okay, I need to find my roommate and get going anyway. But um... do you have your phone on you? Maybe I can give you my number and we can do this again sometime?”. Ellie smiles at that, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and handing it to you. Feeling bold, you give her one last kiss on the cheek before heading past the frat guy and back into the house.

You really hope she texts you. 

----------

an: tf kinda noise does a sliding door make? Def not schwoop but thats all my brain could come up with lmao. so thats my first ever fic, my writing could use some work so i’m def open to any feedback! Stay super freaky, have great vagina, I LOVE YAAAA 

[reinerispretty]

your friend's boyfriend's best friend

(a reiner braun x reader modern au)

i've had this on ao3 for a bit but i wanted to make things more easily accessible for people on here! so first chapters of my fics will be posted to this account and if you'd like to continue reading, the link to the full fic on ao3 will be available at the bottom :)

SUMMARY:

Fresh out of a long-term relationship, you now need a place to live. Enter Reiner Braun, the timid, busy, and devastatingly attractive best friend of your friend's boyfriend. He's got a room to spare and doesn't mind cats, so you leap at the offer. Still healing and figuring yourself out, you're absolutely, positively, one-thousand percent certain nothing will happen between the two of you.

It all starts with you breaking up with Jean.

Well, ask any of your friends and they’ll say it was mutual, because that’s what you tell them. And maybe that’s what Jean thinks, too, and that’s fine for him and his healing process, but that isn’t the case. You were the one that broached the topic, that realized spending life with him was less like living with your soulmate and more like having a roommate (that you frequently had sex with). There never seemed to be anything to talk about anymore, and the two of you used to talk about everything . You both became complacent. 

Plus, you aren’t an idiot. You know that love changes overtime, that things don’t always have to be as exciting as they used to be. That’s why you spent a few months putting a lot of thought into it, just to make sure. What you found was that the two of you weren’t quite looking at each other like you used to. That you weren’t excited to come home and tell him about your day, but rather indifferent. That you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, look over, and think about how much you loved him.

So you broke up with Jean. And truthfully, it went easier than you expected. Once you voiced your concerns, he’d realized he’d been feeling similarly. Which sort of made you sad, but you digress.

(There’s also the matter of him almost definitely being in love with your best friend. But that’s a topic to be broached at a later date.)

So Jean sends out emails to get your name taken off the lease and you’re frantically texting everyone you know, asking if they have a couch you can crash on (and a garage to put everything in). He’s offered to let you stay, because he’s kind and would never put you (or your cat Toast) out on the street, but you’d rather die than do that. It would only make things weirder. After all, you’re adamant to maintain a friendship with him. He was your friend before you started dating, and a rather good one at that, so you’ll do anything you can to keep your breakup resentment-free. And crashing at your ex’s place when you aren’t having crazy toxic make-up sex is incredibly embarrassing. To you, at least. 

Eren lets you crash at his and Armin’s place for a few nights, but their pull-out couch isn’t a permanent solution. Out of the roughly fifty-million texts you send, only one person responds saying they know of someone who’s renting a room. You don’t think Annie Leonhart has ever been considered an angel, but she’s your angel for telling you about her boyfriend’s best friend who is looking for a roommate. 

You meet up for coffee to talk about it. Your freshman year of college the two of you had been placed together randomly, and you’d gotten along well enough that neither of you felt the need to room with anyone else. She’s clean, quiet, and horrifically honest, so if she doesn’t think this place is the right fit for you, she’ll let you know. 

“I think you’ll get along,” She says as she sips her matcha. You stare at her with wide eyes. You didn’t actually expect those words to come out of her mouth. Annie’s standards are as high as a skyscraper. “Reiner’s low maintenance.” 

“You make him sound like a pet,” You say, and Annie hums, pinching off a piece of your blueberry muffin.

“Not unlike it. He sticks to a very strict routine. Eats all three meals at the same time every day. I’m sure if you left out a treat or toy for him every once in a while, he’d appreciate it.” 

You roll your eyes, tapping your fingers against your coffee cup. “How long has Bert known him?” 

Bertholdt is Annie’s boyfriend. He’s the tallest person you’ve ever seen. Upon meeting him, you’d told her to “climb him like a tree.” She’d listened.

You like Bertholdt for her. He makes her soft, in a good way. He looks at her like the stars are in her eyes. 

“Since we were kids.” 

“Do you know him?” 

“Barely.” 

“What’s he like?” 

“He’s nice. Little bit of a meathead sometimes. He goes to the gym a lot but he isn’t that annoying about it.” 

You smile at what Annie deems appropriate to note. “So he isn’t a creep?” 

She glares at you, but it’s friendly. You’d know, you’ve been on the receiving end of her not-so-friendly glares plenty of times. “I wouldn’t let you stay with a creep.” She takes another piece of your blueberry muffin as penance. “He used to live with Marcel, but then Marcel fucked off to go study plants in Australia, so his younger brother moved in to help Reiner with the rent.” Annie sighs. “Everyone knew that wouldn’t last long.” 

“Why?” 

“Porco and Reiner have never gotten along. I don’t know why they thought it was a good idea to live together.” You’re trying to keep up with all the names. You and Annie come from separate hometowns, not to mention she’s an inherently private person, so the only people you really know from her life are her dad and Bertholdt. “This is all to say that Reiner needs someone else to help cover the rent.” 

You sip your coffee, bracing yourself to ask the question that’s been on your mind ever since you found out about this Reiner Braun . “Is he up for living with a girl?”

Annie raises a lazy eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

“Well, I don’t know. Some people get weird about it. Like, they think it’s gonna stop them from hooking up with people or something.” The last thing you want is some crazy person banging down your door.

“I’ve already told him a little about you. He’s fine with it.” 

It feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted off your chest. Smiling brightly, you say, “Alright, deal!” 

Moving in with Reiner doesn’t go how moving in is supposed to go. You don’t visit the property first and make sure it’s all up to snuff before signing the lease. You haven’t even met Reiner to see if he’s a good match as a roommate. The most you’ve spoken to him are a few texts from when Annie gave you his number to discuss move-in related things. He’s a very straightforward texter, ending his sentences in periods that make you think he’s mad at you. 

“So you don’t even know who this guy is?” Eren asks as his fingers drum against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing through the speakers. Although he’d snatched up the aux, he’d played one of your playlists, something with a lot of emo throwbacks. (He’s always playing your music because he’s too lazy to go hunting for songs of his own.) When you’d requested help moving out, he’d leapt at the offer and volunteered his brother’s truck so you wouldn’t have to rent one. Eren’s been a great friend to you during the breakup, but you think it’s largely because of how much he despises Jean. You think they would be great friends if Eren wasn’t such an asshole most of the time. 

“Never met him,” You confirm. “But he’s friends with Annie and Bertholdt, so I’m not worried. Plus I stalked him on the internet to make sure he wasn’t a psycho.” 

“What if he is a psycho and is just really good at hiding it?” 

“Hmm,” You pretend to consider. “I guess I’ll just die.” The look Eren gives you is full of annoyance. You know he’s worried about you. He’s so protective over all his friends. “Would it make you feel better if you met him? He won’t be there but he said he’d be back sometime this evening.”

“Will you buy dinner?” 

“If you’re asking me to thank you for your services in food rather than actual money, then yes.” 

Eren thinks for a moment as he pulls down the street– your new street. “Yeah, I’ll stay. Make sure his gym bag isn’t full of chopped up body parts.” And you roll your eyes.

Your GPS alerts your arrival as Eren slows to a stop in front of the house. It’s a split level with pale blue siding and grey shutters. It sticks out like a sore thumb among the mini-mansions in the neighborhood.

Eren backs into the driveway to make it easier to unload everything. As he unties the bungee cords that keep all of your things contained, you head to the planter where Reiner said he’d leave the spare key. Your key, now. You find it just barely covered by dirt and unlock the door to your new home.

It’s always strange walking into someone’s home and finding out what it smells like. Reiner’s house doesn’t smell bad, just different from what you’re used to. It smells older, and like that one cinnamon apple Walmart candle boys always buy to cover any unappealing scents.

You give everything a once-over as you try to locate your room. You think it could use a dusting, but otherwise it looks relatively clean. By your standards, anyway. 

Your room is in the upstairs half of the house, to the right and down the hall. There’s a bathroom on your way, as well as a few other doors you’ll have to explore later. You push open your bedroom door and are relieved to find it’s spacious and in good shape. Reiner had sent you a few pictures of the place, but he hadn’t taken the right angles and you were too nervous to ask for them. 

Running back outside, you start helping Eren carry your things in. You start with the big stuff, like your desk and bookshelf. It’s awkward, maneuvering those things up the steps, but the two of you make it work.

Your cat, Toast, meows unhappily from inside his carrier as you move smaller boxes into your room. You don’t want to risk him running through the door as you unload your things, so he must remain contained for the time being. As you set down a box of your books, you give him a scratch between his ears through the carrier bars. “Just a little longer!” You promise.

By the time you’re done, the sun hangs low in the sky, and you still don’t have a bed. Eren leaves to pick up your bedframe and mattress from Ikea so you can get Toast’s things set up. You want to keep him in your room, just while he adjusts to a new home. He’ll be sad when he figures out Jean isn’t here, and you’d rather he not tear up the furniture of the nice man who lets the two of you stay here. 

You set up his litterbox, his water fountain and food dishes, and his cat trees in your room. Once that’s all done, you undo his carrier lock and let him roam free. Toast bumps into your hand immediately before carefully exploring every inch of your new room. 

You’re grateful Reiner’s been so accommodating, but you wonder if part of him feels like he has to be because you’re his best friend’s girlfriend’s friend. When you texted him asking whether or not it was alright to have Toast, he’d said, “ That’s fine. ” You don’t think that sounds like someone who’s thrilled to have animals in their home. 

The screen door slams shut and you assume it’s Eren. Hopping to your feet, you carefully slide out of your room and shut Toast in. You call out as you walk down the hall, “I was thinking of pizza for tonight, but I know you said you wanted to try that new Thai place–” You round the corner and find who you can only assume is Reiner coming up the stairs.

He’s tall, much taller than you or Eren, and for some reason you hadn’t anticipated that from the grainy picture of him Annie sent. You suppose you should’ve known, considering Bertholdt had been standing at his side, and he was still a few inches taller than Reiner. He’s also, unfortunately, much more attractive than you’d been expecting. (The picture was taken at a wedding reception, so both Bertholdt and Reiner were incredibly sweaty looking.) 

Annie’s gym bro assessment of him had been accurate. He’s broad and obviously muscular, if the way his button-up grips his biceps is any indication. He’s blond, with light eyes, and some stubble along his jawline. Reiner is handsome .

(Later, you’d hiss at Annie from the privacy of your bedroom, “You didn’t tell me he was hot!” )

Your face burns as you realize a lot of seconds have passed and you’ve just been standing there, silently ogling him. “Oh! Hi! I’m (Y/N).” You extend your hand and he drops his laptop bag at the top of the steps to shake it. 

“Nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Reiner.” 

Meeting new people is awkward enough without the added stress of them being nice to look at. You clear your throat. “Sorry, I thought you were my friend. He ran out to pick up my bed frame for me and I promised him I’d order us dinner.” 

“I’ve tried that new Thai place,” Reiner says. “It’s good.” 

You nod again. What are you, a bobblehead? “I’ll let him know it has at least one solid review. Would you, um, would you want me to order you anything? As a thank you for letting me stay here?” 

Reiner smiles. “No, it’s alright. I’m actually gonna head to the gym in a bit. Thanks, though.” 

You stop yourself from nodding again. Right, strict routine. “Okay, well, once I’m more settled in, I’ll definitely be baking you something to let you know how much I appreciate it.” 

“You really don’t have to. I mean, you’re helping me out, too.” You wave a hand. 

“Barely.” He’s saved you from the embarrassment of crashing with your ex for god knows long until you find a place of your own. Or worse, moving back in with your mother. You think you might owe him for the rest of your life.

The truck rumbles into the driveway and you’ve never been more grateful for Eren’s timing, because it’s either you keep standing here nodding like an idiot or retreat to your room. “That’s him!” You say, and Reiner moves out of your way so you can get down the stairs. 

“They brought out the wrong order like three fucking times,” Eren grumbles as he hops out of the truck. “I had to physically write your name down for them to find you.” 

You smile at him and say in a sing-song voice, “Thanks, Eren!” 

“Whatever,” Your friend says. “Let’s get this over with. I’m starving.” 

“Reiner said that new Thai place you’ve been wanting to try is good,” You tell him as he undoes the truck bed door. Eren’s eyebrows raise.” 

“He’s here?” You nod. 

“Got back a few minutes ago. I was so embarrassed, I thought it was you coming in. I offered to buy him dinner too, but he’s heading to the gym.” 

Eren clicks his tongue. “You’ve gotta stop offering handouts.” 

“You’re so dramatic. Buying food isn’t going to make me go bankrupt.” 

“You guys need any help?” Reiner’s voice is right behind you. You yelp, hand flying to your chest as your heart pounds against it. Eren snickers as your face heats up.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Eren says, just as you’re winding up to tell him it isn’t necessary. “This one has noodles for arms.” 

“I do not , you just walk too fast!” Huffing, you turn to Reiner. “This is Eren. Eren, this is Reiner.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Reiner moves around the truck to help him pull out the boxes that hold your bed frame pieces and mattress. 

“You really don’t have to,” You say. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.” Eren gives you a look that says, Let the big strong man do the work for you, idiot. 

Reiner shrugs. “It won’t take long,” He assures. 

“Why don’t you go inside and get Toast out of the way so we can bring this in?” Eren suggests. You narrow your eyes at him, feeling as though you’re being dismissed. 

“I can’t decide if this is anti-feminist or very feminist. But fine. Don’t break my shit, Jaeger.” 

You prop the door open and scoop Toast into your arms to keep him from tripping the guys. You try to keep yourself busy so you don’t look completely useless (and so you don’t stare at the way Reiner’s arms move when he brings in your bed frame and mattress. Instead you choose to find setting up your internet to be the most interesting thing in the world.)

“Thanks so much, Reiner,” You tell him as he leaves your room. He gives you a smile over his shoulder. 

“Not a problem. Make yourself at home.” With that, he leaves the house entirely, and you shut your door so you can set Toast down. When you turn, you find Eren glaring at you.

“What, I don’t get any thanks?” He asks, wiping sweat from his forehead.

The two of you decide to take a break to order food from the Thai restaurant. Once it’s delivered, you’re hesitant to sit down at the kitchen table and eat. Eren, however, is not as he yanks a chair back and tears into the take-out bag.

“It’s your house too,” He reminds you. Carefully, you sit. 

“I know, I just don’t know if he has any rules or specific ways he wants things done.” 

Eren looks at you like you’re stupid. “Rules about eating at a table?” 

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” You mumble. “But I just want to be as little of a nuisance as possible.” 

“Did Jean make you feel like that?” You’re surprised he asks this. He’s been very good about not not bringing up Jean all day, but you suppose he just wants to make sure your ex never made you feel less-than. You don’t doubt that if he had any actual reason, Eren wouldn’t think twice about beating the actual fuck out of Jean. 

“No, not at all,” And that’s the truth. “Living with Jean was easy. I just know it’s not always going to be like that with other people.” 

Eren grunts as he starts digging into his food. “If I had a room to spare, you know you’d be living with me right now.” 

You smile at him. “I know. Thanks.” 

Your day with Eren is far from over, because once you’re both done eating and you’ve rested for a proper amount of time, he helps you build your bed. You’d insisted you could do it on your own and he hadn’t believed you, which you’re grateful for, because the wooden pieces are excruciatingly heavy. The entire process puts a strain on your friendship. You even have to Facetime Armin to settle an argument about measurements, but by the end of it you’re both laughing as you try your best to get the fitted sheet on your mattress. 

Eren takes you back to Jean’s, where you’d left your car that morning. You start to feel oddly emotional. You aren’t sure if it’s because you’re leaving for good, or if it’s because you’re gearing up for the first night by yourself in a long time. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He tells you as he walks to your car door. 

“Yes, Mom,” You press the unlock button, but before you can get in Eren gives you one of his rare hugs. 

You’ve known him since you were itty-bitty, having first met when the two of you were in diapers at some Mommy and Me class. Your mothers became fast friends, which meant that as toddlers and kids, you were always together. You don’t think there’s a single childhood photo of yours that doesn’t have Eren somewhere in it. 

But then his mom died, and your parents divorced, and instead of working through all of that together, you grew apart. You were a reminder of every moment you’d shared with his mother, and thus you magnified her absence. And you shut down, because your father moved out and your mother started her long trail of shitty boyfriends and the one person you wanted to comfort you was dead. You don’t think there’s a word for acquaintances that know each other like the back of their palm, but all throughout high school the two of you passed in the hallways as if you didn’t have a decade of history. 

Fate decided it had enough of this at the start of your freshman year of college when it placed you in a room right across from Eren’s. You both felt like you were little fish in big ponds, and although your friendship started again for the sake of convenience, you stayed friends because you cared about each other. 

You hug him back and try hard not to cry. 

Reiner’s still out when you get home, so you turn on music and finish unpacking your necessities. There are still a lot of things you need to buy for yourself. You hadn’t realized how much of the furniture was Jean’s. You’re using stacked shoe boxes as a nightstand. 

The one thing you’re happy about in all of this is that for the first time in your life, you have your own bathroom. You clean it because it makes you feel better if you’ve wiped things down yourself, and then fill it with your toiletries. Once you’re done, you take a well-deserved shower and wash the sweat from your hair and body.

Drying off, you wrap a towel around yourself and head back to your room. You’re surprised to find Reiner in the hall as well, hanging his jacket in the coat closet. The two of you both stare at each other, wide-eyed and keenly aware that you’re a single piece of fabric away from being naked . Face hot, you turn on your heel and walk quickly into your bedroom. 

You’ll have to buy a robe.

liked the first chapter? keep reading here!

[toska-writes]

“Safety in Numbers”

Summary: A huge thunderstorms strike the air, and it’s hard for someone with heighten sense and someone who spent their whole life in a war.

Pairing: Hunter x GN padawan reader (ok guess what.. I bet you don’t know. It’s Platonic!

Warning: hurt and comfort. PTSD mentions and such. Blood but it’s only mentioned once and nondescript. We love dad Hunter here!

Word count: 942

Notes: if you want to be added to my tag list comment or message me! Also feel free to suggest any ideas!

BOOM.

Thunder struck the ground as you tossed back over in your bunk. As silly as it was your blanket formed a protective layer between you and the storm.

You’d been awake for hours. Thunder struck since the early hours of the night making sleep vacant.

BOOM.

Every time you closed your eyes the noise echoed through your skull, it sounded a little too familiar and the memories it brought back weren’t pleasant.

You saw their faces flashing across your vison, the horrific scenes played out over and over again. If you really concentrated you could smell it as well.

Smoke, sweat, and blood.

Lighting flashed and the whole ship shook with the force of the invisible thunder. You couldn’t take it anymore. Someone else had to be awake right? Maybe a walk would help clear your head.

You’d never wake a sleeping member of the crew you were currently stationed with, which was Clone Force 99. They needed just as much sleep as you were missing right now.

You stumbled from your bunk, every time a new sound was made you froze making the journey to the cockpit ever so slow. Clearly the walking idea was out.

Breath in 1 2, breath out. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing can get you. You thought over and over once again.

But with every loud noise that thought slipped further and further away from you.

BOOM.

Coming to the cock pit you weren’t necessarily surprised to see the sergent of Clone Force 99 still awake.

Hunter sat in one of the front seats facing the dark scenery where rain banged against the glass. Hunter leaned slightly into his arm that propped him up, both hands were cupped around his face.

Without giving his unfortunate circumstances you’d almost think he looked at peace watching the rain, like he enjoyed it.

He still picked up your steps over the loud noises raging outside as he quickly turned to look at you spinning in his chair.

You gave him a small smile, by no means did it reach your eyes. “Hey.” The words barely slipped past your teeth and you stood there wondering if you said them at all.

“What’s wrong kid?” Hunter spoke softly, clearly he saw your tear stained face and best attempt at a comforting smile. Nothing could get past him, even in the dark.

“Nothing,” You shook your head slightly. “Just… couldn’t sleep is all.”

He gave you a slight look but didn’t press further, he didn’t need his heightened sense to tell him you were on edge and uncomfortable. Scared even.

Another bolt of lighting strikes the ground creating a huge boom right along after it, suddenly Hunter was on his feet and met you in the middle of the cockpit where you stumbled too.

“Shhh kid it’s ok, I got ya. I don’t like it either. It’s ok ” Hunter rambled into your ear. He held you tightly to his chest rocking back and forth for a moment.

You looked up at him, the pain on his face and the wavering of him in the force told you all you needed to know. “I got you too Hunter alright, Safety in numbers am I right?” You tried to joke but all you felt was numbness.

Hunter held you tighter walking back over to the seat he just vacated. The two of you squished in together. “Don’t worry about me kid, been dealing with loud noises and such for a while.”

Hunter looked down at your huddled form, he could feel the racing heartbeat in your chest.

This was wrong. “I’m so sorry kid.” He spoke into your hair. “You should be playing in the rain, watching it fall, be scared of it if you want but it shouldn’t be like this.”

BOOM.

Hunter wasn’t sure why he was angry or at who but seeing you now experiencing fear and hurt of this level sat wrong with him.

Another boom came, the noise rang in the skull of the trooper. Why him? He understood Crosshairs own struggles sometimes knowing his brother if he were here with you instead would have a problem with the lights that flashed across the sky. But as his head throbbed he almost could admit he was jeoulse of his sleeping brothers.

The duo sat in the chair quietly, muffled tears and whimpers were lost to the raging storm just outside.

Hunter looked down now after a while, the rise and fall of your body wasn’t perfect but it meant that you were asleep hopefully having a dreamless sleep. How could something like this happen to a kid like this? A good kid.

Hunter stood now with you still tightly bundled in his arms. He made is way back through the ship trying not to jump when the thunder struck yet again.

Setting you in his bunk he watched you for a moment in the dark.

“I’m sorry for this life vod’ika.” He whispered “But we can have safety in numbers if you want.”

He slowly climbed into the bunk after you, making sure some part of him protected you from the storm on the exterior of the ship. An arm of his draped over your shoulder and chest pulling you closer.

Sleep never welcomed Hunter that night, not as long as you were asleep. Knowing you too well that you’d wake up while the storm would still be going, disoriented from sleep and scared.

If he could stop that and comfort you for just a second making you feel safer. In Hunters book that’s worth losing a little sleep.

He felt you shift beside him, grasping firmly to his arm.

Safety in numbers, it always works.

—————————————————————

Taglist: @arctrooper69

[gothushi]

pressure

pairing: rob x photographer!reader

warning: minor character death not descriptive

note: shortest chapter so far but wanted to give u a little bit of suspense;) don’t worry chapter four is already halfway written i pinky swear

word count: 2.5k

part 1 | part 2 | this is part 3! | part 4 | part 5

———————♡

Rolling thunder shakes you awake in the middle of the night. It reverberates in your chest as wind blows through the small clearing, but there’s.. something else.

A low growling, just like the other night.

It happens simultaneously with the thunder, igniting your natural instincts that something is wrong.

Your heart speeds up in your chest, an anxious feeling flowing in your veins as you listen. Over the sound of the rain hitting the fabric of your tent, you hear footsteps. Large, thudding steps as something walks through camp. This isn’t a big cat. Even the rest of the jungle nightlife is quiet, not heard unlike before.

Sitting up in your sleeping bag, slow to not make any unneeded noise, you try to figure out where the animal.. thing.. is going. It snarls, breathing heavy with large puffs of air, sniffing around closer and closer until its muzzle pushes against the wall of your tent. Just as big as your head, something is right there.

Your throat’s gone dry and your heart is pounding, hands starting to tremble as a nauseous feeling rises in your stomach.

And then it moves on.

Off to the other tents, it sniffs around, growling, and then fabric is tearing. A loud roar sounds before thunder booms, screaming that sounds like Lisa sounding out. You move before you think, tent being unzipped and you’re fumbling out into the heavy rain.

A dinosaur.

A fucking dinosaur.

John’s yelling about running, a gunshot goes off, but you’re frozen in pure primal fear. The dinosaur is at least three heads taller than you, scaly brown as it roars and charges at someone. But you run, taking off into the trees. You nearly slip several times, branches knocking into you, shoe’d feet slipping in the muddy trail.

An awful crunching noise and more screaming is heard behind you but you don’t turn back, too terrified to do so. The rain continues to downpour and it just makes it harder to see. The yelling soon blends with the rain and other jungle noises.

You run, and run, and run, until your legs burn and it feels like your insides are melting away. Adrenaline makes it feel like you run for forever, before you slip and knees make contact with the ground and bark of a tree trunk. Crawling around it, near gasping for air as the brush conceals you a little, your legs feel like jelly. It takes all but five seconds for it to settle in, you just seen a dinosaur, and now you’re alone in the middle of the rainforest in the dead of the night. The only thing that comforts you is the sound of the wildlife very much alive around you, meaning no danger is nearby currently. You’re alone and isolated now, and for a moment you consider going back, but you don’t even trust yourself to know which way to go.

Panting, you try to steady your breath. Tears burn at your eyes, spilling over and mixing with the fresh rain. What just happened? Was that really a… a dinosaur? Did you just hear someone die?

Your heart thuds in your throat, as it settles in that yes, it was a dinosaur. Yes, you probably just heard someone die. The horrific noises replay in your mind, jumbled together in a mess or fear.

But the jungle around you is alive again and full of wildlife. The tree against your back is rough, slightly grounds you in your panic as tears soak your face. The trembling of your legs settles in the longer you sit, thoughts racing. Do I go back? Should I just stay here? What if the others got hurt? What if they’re being chased right now?

Despite the downpour of rain, something catches your attention. Movement, somewhere on the trail. You force yourself to stand, leaning against the tree as your eyes strain against the darkness. A little rustle comes from somewhere, thunder rumbling high above before a flash of lightning barely illuminates the area, not enough to even see anything. You’re soaked to the bone, starting to shiver as the adrenaline leaves your system.

You want to call out, but that’s a stupid idea obviously. There’s just a small spark of hope that it may be one of the others. You hear it again, closer than before but it doesn’t sound the same as the loud heavy footsteps of the dinosaur. Furrowing your eyebrows to listen, you lean out a little, as if it’d magically make you be able to see.

A branch brushes against you from behind, making you startle and twist to look at it. Then, a step from the other direction where the previous noise was sounds and you spin back around.

Rob. He’s stood there, a couple feet away, staring at you in surprise. He’s just as soaked as you, a surprised expression.

You’re both staring at each other, wide eyed, rain dripping down your faces with heavy breaths puffing out. Your brain stops working for all but five entire seconds before you’re rushing forward, throwing your arms around him and lips crashing in a desperate, relieved kiss.

It’s unexpected between you both, but he immediately wraps his arms around you, as tight as possible, and the sensation of warmth is almost dizzying. Shaking hands grasp at the sides of his neck, his jaw, cradling him as you kiss, smothering him to feel he’s alive. Lips parting and heads tilting to accommodate each other. You were so worried he could have been dead, gasping against his lips, pulling back just the slightest. “You’re safe,” he whispers, “you’re safe.”

His eyes flutter open, chest heaving. The first kiss was pure relief, intense calm, and the second one as he dives back in is more intense, full of passion. His hands grasp at your sides, fingertips pressing against your tank top. His tongue licks over yours, and if it weren’t for the instinctual fear coursing through both of you, it would have been arousing.

“I thought you were dead.” You mumble against his lips, panting for air, eyes flickering open to stare up at him.

Rob takes in a deep breath, shaking his head, “No. I’m okay.. Are you hurt?” His hands blindly paw at you now, trying to search for any injuries.

“No-.. I’m fine.” You’re shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat, “The others-.. did they-..”

“It was Lisa and Tim’s tent it tore into. I had to drag James away, but.. I don’t know. John shot at the damn thing and told me to run..” His voice trails off, because currently he isn’t sure what to say. He glances around the dark trail, before turning to look back down at you. You lean against him as the reality sets in again. The rain continues to pour down, and the darkness feels overwhelming. You both stay wrapped in each other for at least a minute before he speaks again, “We need to find shelter. For tonight, okay?”

Nodding, you pull back, sniffling with a deep inhale, “Yeah.. yeah. Um.. the river, do you remember that cave.. Could that work?”

Even despite the situation, a small smile flickers on his expression, hand petting over your sopping hair and smoothing it from your face, “Yeah, c’mon it isn’t far.”

His hand slips into yours, holding on so tight it turns his knuckles white, leading slowly with purposeful steps as to not fall.

—

Arriving at the river, the water is colder than the rain as you cross it, finding the jagged rocky area tucked against the cliffside. A fallen tree covers most of the entrance, and you’ll have to climb over to slip inside the small cave, but it’ll have to do for tonight. It’s chilly inside, the floor dry and dusty which sticks to your wet clothes as you crawl onto the floor. It isn’t very roomy or comfortable obviously, but Rob sits against the wall and holds you to his chest, arms tight around you as if still locked up with fear.

The adrenaline crash knocks you both out before another word is said.

—

Early morning you shift, watch reading 6:12AM. Groaning at the soreness of your muscles from the odd position, it makes Rob wake as well. It’s quiet for a few moments, shifting of limbs to try and stretch as sunlight peeks in from the entrance. Rubbing a hand over your face, you grimace at the dusty dirt stuck to it, sighing.

“Hey..” he murmurs softly, hand coming to rub over your back, “y’okay?” His brows furrow in concern, eyes tired.

A small nod, a hum, “Yeah.. just..” You swallow, finally glancing up at him, “Just not sure it’s settled in yet.. what’re we gonna do?”

A part of him wants to say that he doesn’t know, that they’ll figure something out. But the reality of the situation weighs on him, and he just glances over towards the cave entrance. “We.. go back to camp. See if anyone is still there, or if there’s any supplies we can get. Then.. we hike back to the car.” His voice is sure, but there’s a subtle waver there.

Swallowing again, you nod. It sounds like the most logical plan, and he is the professional here when it comes to the jungle so there’s no room for argument. There’s a few long moments where neither of you speak, the chatter of birds and other animals heard outside the cave, wind rustling the trees. His hand slides down your arm, to your hand, and gives it a squeeze, “C’mon, we’ll make it quick. We should be able to get back to the car before the sun sets.”

There’s just no use trying to navigate the jungle all by yourselves to search for anyone. Not on your own. So the best bet you two have is to get back to civilization and find help..

—

Arriving at camp in tense silence, it’s a grim sight. Two of the tents are torn apart, blood splattering the blue fabric, the flash of flesh catching your eye before you force yourself to turn away. No… Rob’s hand tightens in yours as he takes in the area, someone… Lisa.. mangled with nearly nothing left. He clears his throat and lets his fingers slip from yours, reluctant to let go, “Grab your stuff if it’s still there.”

The order helps, even as tears burn your eyes and a lump forms in your throat. Sniffling, you wander to your own tent which was untouched, kneeling down to gather your pack and camera bag. Slipping both over your shoulders, you decide to watch Rob wander around, stepping over some bags and finding his vest, pulling it on. He has to steel himself, steel his emotions because now the responsibility of getting out of here, getting you out of here, lays on him.

A small bit of hope still hangs in the air, hoping the others got away, that they’re safe, maybe they’ll have the same idea as you both. You stand by the edge of camp, facing away to look into the trees, senses alert as you blink back your tears. A warm hand slides over your shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze as he speaks, “C’mon.. Let’s go.”

—

The first few hours are hard. You’re both listening intently, not a word between you two besides the occasional ‘careful’, ‘easy’ or ‘take my hand’ from Rob. It’s nearing noon now, the air hot and sticky, making sweat gleam on your skin and soak into your shirts, breath a bit heavier from walking. Rob keeps his eyes out, flicking across the trail, ahead, to the side, the other side, glancing behind constantly. Unease settles between both of you, but now isn’t the time to talk about it.

—

The hours prove to not be enough in the day for this hike, because even with minimal breaks and a steady pace, the sun begins to set and a place to rest safely is needed. Walking along the thin trail, down a little hill, it’s quiet. Too quiet. Too still.

The surrounding chatter and chirps are no longer there.

Nearly stumbling over some roots, his hand tightening on yours so you don’t fall, you hear it.

A distant growl, blending in with the rushing of the river below the edge of the hill. A flock of birds squawk and scatter above.

Rob tugs you closer, lowering down to the ground a little on the edge of the path, keeping his eyes sharp as he looks in all directions. That instinctual fear sparks again, like your body knows deep down this is a predator you cannot face. Pounding footsteps are nearing at an alarming rate, chasing something, getting closer and closer.

A small animal jumps out over the path, and then the large body of the dinosaur follows, just in front of you both as it roars, crashing into a tree. You nearly gasp at the sight but hold it in, watching as the dinosaur stops because the small animal goes skittering down the steep drop, towards the river, blending in with the rocks and out of the beasts line of sight. Rob’s hand squeezes yours so hard it nearly hurts, but you’re holding back just as tightly, shaking. The animal turns, growling in anger, sniffing and looking around, its eyes pale.

It moves away from the edge, back to the path, huffing as it sniffs around. As it turns, its gaze flits over your own several times… can it not see you?

It smells you, however, catches the scent of your sweaty bodies as it comes closer, slowly walking as if it were stalking a prey. It is.

Rob’s breath catches in his throat, like he isn’t even breathing anymore. You’re not sure you are either. The animal comes closer, sticking its nose up to sniff, within five feet of you both now. Your body is absolutely frozen in fear, trapped where you stand half behind Rob, no choice but to just.. wait. Seeing it.. really looking at it.. it’s terrifying. Standing at least two feet above Rob, thick hind legs, rows of teeth bared and bloody as it sniffs and growls again.

You can feel the vibrations of its steps, until it stops. The tension and fear is palpable, thick, as its head tilts down as if it’s staring directly at Rob. But he seems to make the same connection as you, it can’t see properly, tracks by movement and smell. It snarls, breath hot and foul as its nose touches Rob’s arm. He’s tense as is, forced to not move even a single muscle, not even blink, as it sniffs and gives a low hiss in the air.

Several painful moments pass, before it pounces.

Its jaws part as the beast roars, and Rob moves before you can even comprehend it. He turns, back to the animal as he grabs you and just dives. Your ears pick up the snapping of a jaw, the grunt Rob makes before you’re both tumbling down the steep drop, rolling over rocks and dirt, the blurry motion of the world spinning before you hit the bottom, crashing into ice cold water, the world going dark.

———————♡

[opheliajupiter99]

Once Upon a Rapture Pt.4

(Fair warning, this'll probably come out like a scene straight of Jekyll and Hyde. Nothing too bad, just ya know, Torbek lol)

The sounds of heels click-clacking across tile floor echoed as a young woman emerged from the depths of the Surgical Wing of Rapture's Medical Pavillion.

Her name was Clementine. She had long, braided blonde hair, in the form of a single long ponytail that trailed down the length of her back, and a simple white t-shirt with a somewhat faded dark blue skirt, as well as silky white stockings. Slung over one shoulder was her purse, which matched her skirt, and clutched in the hand of her other arm was a second bag, this one a plastic medical bag, full of her belongings.

She'd recently been discharged after a cosmetic surgery, curiosity of course of Rapture's top cosmetic surgeon, Dr. J.S. Steinman. She worked down in Siren Alley, specifically the Pink Pearl, and normally, unlike the girls down in Eve's Garden, she wasn't pressured to get cosmetic surgery.

Her boss, Daniel Wales, saw the value in having a wide variety of girls that could fit various niches, rather than an army of 'perfect' girls that all looked the same. She was tall and muscular, so she fit what he liked to call the 'lumberjack' mold. This time, however, was a special circumstance; she'd gotten injured during a visit from a particularly unpleasant client, leaving a bad bruise over part of her face and some damage to her right eye socket.

She was fine, but she wasn't in any condition to 'sell the merchandise' as it were, so off to Steinman she went. It was quite late, she'd been discharged basically in the middle of the night, so nobody else was around. Likely, the only person she'd run into at this hour was the nurse manning the front desk near the entrance, but she had a ways to walk until then. However, she wasn't quite as alone as she expected...

She went further, heels still click-clacking away, coming down decently wide hallway, some chairs sat about, likely for waiting as they were near some of the smaller offices, some of them tipped over but most of them still standing. She stopped in her walking however, as she saw a figure, sat hunched against one of the walls.

It was a very, very tall man, with unnaturally long limbs, covered by a ratty, moth-eaten blue blanket, his head hung low, dark brown hair growing thick all over his body like he was straight out of the Wolfman. He clearly heavily used ADAM; not just because of how gruesome his appearance was, but because of his occasional twitching and mumbling to himself.

He also had an overturned bowler hat beside him, within were a couple of quarters and a few nickels. She frowned as she stared upon the man, for two very different reasons; the first was out of pity, seeing the poor man, likely with barely even enough coin to get him upon the train, much less get him a hot meal.

The other however, was one of concern. The man seemed so familiar somehow; his demeanor was completely different, which was why she paused to ponder it at all. But he reminded her of the very client that'd gotten her stuck with that mad surgeon in the first place. Honestly, so many of her clients were mutated in some fashion, that she didn't find it too odd they'd started blurring together in her head.

She pushed the thoughts aside, for the moment at least, and walked up towards the man, her heels alerting him of her presence, his head lifting up. He watched her as she put two ten-dollar bills into his hat; it was a good chunk of her last paycheck, but she felt the man deserved it, in his terrible condition.

He smiled; his smile was just as horrific as the rest of him, but she did find her heart softening at how genuine the smile was despite that. "T-Thank you miss!" He declared, his voice hoarse and scratchy, but his tone just as genuine as his smile. She smiled back, bowing her head. "Ya welcome buddy." She was much calmer now, especially now that he'd spoken; she recalled her rough client having a cockney accent, so she must've indeed been mistaken.

"What's ya name?" She inquired, the man adjusting in his seat upon the floor slightly to meet her eyes better. "T-Torbek." She tilted her head. "Torbek? Huh, never heard that one before." She said with a soft chuckle, the man rubbing his arms shyly. "W-Well...T-Torbek's real name is T-Torrence Beck, but, people keep s-saying T-Torbek. So, T-Torbek says that now t-too."

She hummed, feeling worse for him the more he spoke; the way he constantly stuttered, the way he oddly talked in the third person. This man must've had one hell of a life down here in this dump. She did truly hope it got better for him, but right now, she had to get back to Siren Alley. Daniel knew she was being discharged tonight, so he'd start kicking up a fuss if she didn't get back to work.

"Well, I'm Clementine. I'm real sorry sugar, but I really gotta get goin'. Use those bucks well, ya hear?" She said, beaming another smile, Torbek maintaining his own, sharp, stained teeth visible past the mass of fur that covered his face. She gave him a curtsy, then continued on her way.

She kept on walking for some time, through the massive hospital, turning through corridors and occasionally stepping through one of the underwater tunnels that connected the different sections of the hospital. She was just a little while more of walking away from the entrance when she heard something; it sounded like some clacking against metal.

She turned around, looking around the stained and rusted walls of the hospital, eyes darting up and around. She didn't see anyone. She swore she heard something...but maybe something just fell off a table? She shook her head, and turned forward again, continuing to walk.

It didn't take long before she heard another clack, this time much closer to her. She jumped, startled, turning back around to look about frantically, but again saw no one. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, this time not turning around but instead backing up, keeping an eye out to make sure no one snuck up on her.

That is until she bumped against something. It wasn't a wall, it wasn't a pillar...it was...some-one-. She could feel them breathing, her form frozen in terror, as a pair of long arms slowly uncloaked and came into view, and tightly wrapped around her.

"'Ello love."

A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the empty metal hall, the nurse at the reception desk too far away to hear, the shriek only further muffled by the metal and water that lay between her and her only chance of salvation.

She was found hours later - or rather, what was left of her. Merely a near unrecognizable mass of blood and viscera, slashed apart violently by long, razor-sharp claws.

[sinistercall]

Leave it to the rest of their eclectic little group of tadpole-inflicted comrades to ruin a PERFECTLY radiant afternoon— something in the planets must have aligned for the entire party to be in such a disgustingly good mood, even Lae-zel and Shadowheart are behaving civilly, for once. Even more APPALLING was the scene before him, everyone's favorite warlock doing his honest best to try to lead Ithuriel through he proper steps of a waltz. It'd ALMOST be endearing if Astarion could stomach the sickly sweet sight without wanting to vomit. Wyll's hands holding her's too softly, their bodies too close, their smiles too bright— he's had ENOUGH.

The sad excuse for a novel he'd been reading is slammed shut ABRUPTLY, a dull thud as it's tossed to the side so the vampire can make his way over to the pair.

An IRRITATED click of his teeth is the only sound offered before he oh, so politely shoulders his way into Wyll's place. "Gods above, you're both so clumsy. You'll let me handle this, won't you...?" Whatever the warlock answers is INCONSEQUENCIAL, the spawn already spinning them so their friend is out of eyesight ( the real view is in front of her already, isn't it? ). ❝ My apologies, darling. I just couldn't bear to sit idly by and watch the two of you embarrass yourselves in the middle of the entire camp any longer. ❞

He realizes too late that he's made the grave error of placing himself front-and-center to something that may read more intimate and genuine than it really is— a MISTAKE he won't make twice, though he'll do his best to relish this moment while it lasts. It'd be a shame to waste the good weather, after all. And the paladin just looks so, so STUNNING in the sunlight ( what a shame their most delicious moments under the cover of night ).

❝ I absolutely refuse to believe you've never done this before, not even you can be that uncivilized. ❞ The tiefling's movements are CLUMSY and UNSURE, but not the steps of someone ignorant to the motions— she seems to need little guidance, effortlessly following the sway and flow of his body, pressing herself closer with the delicious kind of confidence he normally has to TEASE out of her. Perhaps, like most things, this is just something else she's lost— forgotten with the rest of the mysteries of her past. Though he's certain there's a little more BLOOD on her hands than either of them know, he silently hopes she's at least had moments like this before, small moments to enjoy herself, to be HAPPY.

A rather UNBECOMING thought, and he catches himself smiling much too casually. He's certainly gotten sloppy. Well, he thinks, no choice but to do what he does best—

❝ You know, there really was no need to try to make me jealous. If you wanted to be close to me, all your sweet little self had to do was ask. ❞ Always one with a flair for the DRAMATIC, he takes it upon himself to pull the paladin impossibly closer, swiftly pressing her flush to him before lowering her into a exagurated dip just so he can press his lips closer to her ADORABLY pointed ears. ❝ Or perhaps, ❞ he hums, ❝ it was me who wanted to hold you just. Like. This. ❞

He pulls her up before he has a chance to dwell on how UNSETTINGLY easy it was for that last part to slip out— the taunt hitting too close to the truth for his comfort. Sloppy indeed....

|| @sanguisstella (o:

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊'𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓.

Horrifically the topic of her request had come up within one of those novels 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 had lent to her - his insistence of getting her books was ... endearing to say the least - and she wished to know all she could about the novels presented to her, but there were many things she'd forgotten after the tadpole had burrowed into her mind. There was a strange innocence in the way she approached him, Ithuriel had always known Wyll to be a 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 and noble man - a protector she felt safe with, someone easy to 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓. Revealing her secret to him was inconsequential, at least at first when the Warlock had promised to teach her - she was unaware that the lesson would begin immediately, and terribly, in front of their many companions. A few chuckles and smiles surround the pair, the warmth of Wyll’s hands allows the crimson shade of embarrassment budding upon the apples of her cheeks was soon to fade into a soft hue of joy - she even lowers her gaze to part his in order to stare down at her feet, observing the 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 of movement between them. Ithuriel savors it. She feels akin to a ray of light dappling through the lush green canopy framing their camp, an air of 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄 curiosity bounces her skirts and hair as they dance; it is moments like this, when she is drenched in sunshine, that she can feel Lathander cupping her heart and murmuring in her ear. 

  Her sense of wonder at each step is delightfully sweet, a simplicity and an openness that was almost child - like; within this moment she had found how to be at 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 in the middle of her stormy life. For a few minutes in time she was free of every shackle that had ever been placed upon her, she was her own person able to decide what she wanted for herself. Her canines bite softly into her lower lip, pushing the plush in while the vision of one of her companions comes to the forefront of her thoughts. A melody plucks itself within the echoing recesses of her mind, she doesn't remember where it is from but it lends itself well to the situation before her; her feet do not succumb to her usual clumsiness. Even when he seems to trip she catches their footing and keeps pace; although her brow quirks up when she notices that his shoes are 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 - but her lips were already moving and her head was already lifting to see ... 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍.  No no - stop!

  "Oh W-Wyll, I feel like a princess - "

But its too late, the words had spilled most of the way from her tongue, Ithuriel only able to catch the last few - and suddenly her face feels 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. Her breath catches, she hadn't expected Astarion to prance his way into her personal space; let alone start crooning about his jealousy, she only imagine how he would mock her later about revealing such girlish whimsies. A princess. 𝐇𝐀! Worse still is the way she's unable to turn away from him, did a part of her hope that he'd mosey his way into this waltz? The vampire’s presence invades every corner of her perception, his cool hands against her waist and palm, the teasing scent of his cologne. He’s everywhere and she’s unable to deny how eagerly she 𝐃��𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 in his visage. 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 is reflected in the clarity of her wide eyes - the pale rays of light igniting his curls into a halo; she hates the way her heart flutters and a nervous giggle leaves her. As though she is a young 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 again looking up at some fae prince and ... 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺; 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰? She finds herself allowing it at the gentle teasing and genuine grin curling his petaled lips; it suddenly feels safe to open this softer, ethereal side of her soul to him. She shines with the light he provides and he was the brightest shade of gold she’d ever seen, one she wanted to 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 herself in. 

  "Ah - Astarion - ! Wait!" 

  Another swell of laughter leaves her once their bodies are 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 and he is expertly tilting her back to see a new angle of the world, palm holding the small of her back with a strength hidden by his lovely form. Ithuriel pulls her focus from the touches across her body to focus on the mass of birch trees behind them; waves of black and white - a never ending ocean with a bright leafy abyss dappled with brilliant gold patches. Her hair brushes the dirt when she’s suddenly descending even further. Ithuriel instinctively coils her arms around his back and shoulder to cling into the fabric of his shirt; perhaps she was frightened he would drop her? Hot breath tickles her ears, causing them to flutter like flustered 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 wings - she feels light as a feather on a spring breeze; floating over the lily ponds and catching the blossoming hue of their flowers and her face. It pains her that she cannot pick up the rush of his blood - the soft 𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐒 in his chest were silent … and she cups the back of his head. Her mind opens to him once they begin to straighten out again, although her arms do not shift from their embrace - her heels lift and her fingers card through his hair ... It is time for 𝐇𝐄𝐑 to whisper lilting croons into his pointy ear, or rather, for sweet words of adoration to caress across the loathed scars upon his throat. 

  "Then I'll be sure to ask you everyday, I know how embarrassed you get over this - Don't worry, it will be our little secret." 

  Ithuriel doesn't wait for Astarion to catch up, she cannot 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 his defenses to come back when she finally has him so vulnerable and moldable - maybe right now he will finally 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 her words. I care for you. Let me in ... please. She hugs him firmly. Implacably - the warmth pouring from her soul a confirmation that she would do this as long as he needed. All 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. All 𝐃𝐀𝐘 - until their bodies settle into place and become intertwined trees, she would be there to sink her roots with his. She doesn't fail to note how easily their bodies mold and move to fit the other, and their forms pressed so intimately together seems to slow her racing heart. No longer does her skin produce electric shocks but instead melts into a pleasant enduring sense of 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 that pulls a sigh from her lips. 

  𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 - 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

  However time stalled for no man and soon she's remiss to find herself lowering down onto the flats of her feet, connecting fully with the earth once more. Already she misses the scent of his perfume. What had felt like an eternity to her is but a few minutes of time as they continue their waltz throughout camp. Thankfully none of their companions notice the 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 way she leans into him, it is easier to feel free when he is with her; it is easier to be 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 enough to grasp what she wants. To allow her scarred fingers to 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 the 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 of his soul. As much as she yearns to stay in this sanctuary the paladin decides to take it upon herself to bring them both down from that whimsical little ... moment they had just shared. She opts to take hold of his hands again and spin their steps closer towards the edge of camp. She senses a fleeting chance to tease him back within his stunned state, an opportunity she was not above taking - not when he looked so ... 

𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦?

  Her words follow the sway of their bodies and she begs her voice to not betray her, he would laugh at the depth of feeling within her chest. Ithuriel is unsure if he would ever be able to accept it. "I was actually speaking to Wyll to show me this dance so I could better understand the movements of the characters in the book you lent me. Although there were many other things I did not know about either, would you like to be the one to teach me all of them, Darlin - Ah - !"

  The edge of a root snags under her ankle and little can be done before she stumbles just enough for gravity to take them both tumbling down the hill’s curve, angled just enough that there is no hope of stopping the descent into the valley below. Verdant ribbons lick against her camp clothes, painting the pale linen strokes of lush green and bright yellow as she rolled through the foliage. Her laughter echoes through the valley they find themselves collapsing into, a glimpse into an 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 version of her soul; free of Bhaal, of duty, of rules - and the world's wonder reflects in her starry cerise eyes. Ithuriel lifts her face towards the sky once the momentum stops and her flailing form is brought to a halt, the clouds are beautifully swept across the endless azure of the sky - and the burning yolk of the sun seems to smile down at her. Soon that happiness is directed towards the 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 as she observes his messy tresses - unable to help herself but to pluck some of the grass from them. Gods above he looks perfectly 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 and she knows she looks just as messy - the snorts and gasps for air don't stop and only after using all of her will to relax does she speak:

  "Y - You look like a potted plant!"

  Her chest jumps when she finally settles back down, laughter relaxing into low giggles, having moved closer towards the vampire once more; it seems she was interested in the heat he managed to bring to her cheeks. Soon those plucky slim fingers are carefully 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 through the pale curls framing around the angle of his temple, each thread alight with the brilliant luminescent 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐎 behind her silhouette. She's curious in how being around him manages to stretch time - their ticking bombs meant little to her right now; somehow as long as he is beside her she knows her heart will still find a way to 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐏. Ithuriel slips a few flowers by his ear, followed by a gentle caress to the beautifully carved face under her, “There … some daisies and dandelions, you do make a rather pretty vase, Astarion, like you were made to only exist in the sun.” Her own hair had become unraveled with their tumble - and it creates a curtain around their heads when she gazes at him, a waterfall of Lathander's light. The fire behind her eyes, usually intense enough to sear flesh and bone, had simmered down into crackling 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 while she regarded him. Part of her longs to curl her fingers around the back of his head to have him rest against her. Instead she lowers into the sea of grass beside him, both of them hidden away from the rest of the world's judgemental 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒; she felt safe interlocking their fingers and pressing their foreheads close. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. It's quiet away from camp and it feels almost wrong to break it.

  "Let's stay here for a while longer, I'm sure the others will come in due time - but I wouldn't mind having some alone time with you. Will that help cure you of your jealousy?"

━━ @sanguisstella

[flawlessgems]

1 4 5 6 7 14 16 17 21 for the ask game that tells a lot about you (pls don't feel pressure to do them all, i probably wrote down to many again lol)

you literally made my day night by sending in these asks 🤗😘

okieee, let's get to it!

how do you take your tea/coffee?

lol I don't. I've had coffee once and nearly threw up and tea just feels so . . . thin. Not just with actual texture (never thought I'd be describing the texture of a liquid before . . .) but with flavour as well. I really just drink water. I don't have much opportunity to drink anything else, unless it's Ginger Ale when my stomach is not the best

4. what was your favorite tv show as a kid?

good grief- I don't know. The two filmed tv shows I watched the most were Wanted Dead or Alive with Steve Mcqueen, and a BBC Robin Hood with Richard Green. I also watched a lot of the animated show Tom and Jerry, which is a family favourite

5. summer or winter?

okay, if we be going like aesthetics and songs and just vibes? then summer all day. But if we be doing this for the temperature? Then winter. I can't pick winter for aesthetic reasons because winter for me is just sometimes cold, but mostly cool, which means no snow. Come January and February, it's just rain.

6. realist, optimist, or pessimist?

definitely a pessimist. I love watching Fail Army and get my motivation to get through the day from reading demotivational quotes. I'll share one with you: be a bridge, so I can walk over you to better places

7. rain or sunshine?

I don't mind rain so much if it's actually raining, and not just cloudy with a drizzle. I prefer sunshine though. One of my favourite destressing activities is swinging on a playset (call me childish; I don't care. I also still sleep with stuffed animals) so I prefer sunshine in order to do that. But I've done it in the middle of a rainstorm too, so I just have to prepare for possibly ruining my clothes and freezing for hours afterward

14. what is your defining personality trait?

oh geez- how do I answer this without sounding like a complete narcissist? I wish it was 'character trait' instead. But personality trait? People have told me I'm funny, I'm a pessimist, and very creative (I've dabbled in writing stories of various genres, poems of all kinds, and even songs; I can paint with watercolour, draw with both coloured and graphite pencil; I've built some pretty cool fantasy builds with LEGO; I tried my hand at sewing, but sucked at it; slightly better at cross-stitch but I still hate it; I can do the basic knit stich; I am pretty good at crocheting--even did a section of an advanced quilt! and I think I should stop bragging now. If I was trying to avoid sounding like a narcissist I definitely failed)

off that rabbit trail- I think my biggest personality trait is my sensitivity. I'm very sensitive to verbal negativity (which is why I became a sarcastic bitch to try and hide the fact that I really just want to go to that corner over there and cry) as well as pain and other discomforts (both my own and others. It's rather annoying. Like my mom got a paper cut and just told me about it and I almost cried). I'm also sensory-oriented, so I can get sensory-overload very easily.

16. are you an only child? oldest/middle/youngest?

teehee nope! I am one of the oldest kids in a family of over a dozen

17. what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

uhh I'm an introvert, so teleportation would be nice. I have experienced a horrific amount of super-embarrassing moments (that probably nobody else thinks about I'm just overthinking it as usual) so it would be nice to just be able to yeet myself out of there so I don't have to endure the awkward silence.

but flight would be nice too . . . I could use that to look into bird's nests

and elemental control? like damn- FIRE?!

but seriously, my overthinking mind just gave electrokinesis like the ultimate god mod. Think about it, if you could sense and manipulate electricity, you could hack into people's phones and text them, you could have every stoplight be green, and SERIOUSLY--your brain has electricity in it- I COULD SENSE PEOPLE AND MAYBE EVEN MANIPULATE THEM. But, like in a freeze-your-body or slap-yourself-in-the-face kind of way. As for accessing memory banks, I don't think I could do that. BUT THEN- LET'S GET EVEN DEEPER WITH THIS- everything is made up of protons, electrons, and neutrons, so if I could manipulate that, could I like . . . transform?!

also, to any writers out there, please don't take that electrokinesis idea. I came up with that for a story 😭

21. the best ice cream flavor

I can't remember what it was called, but it was this ice cream that was basically a combination of cookies-n-cream, cookie chunk, and oreo ice cream, and it was a BOMB. If it has chocolate in it (unless it has peanut butter 🤮) chances are high I'm going to like it

[one-abuse-survivor]

first i want to say, i know you won’t be able to remember or find it because i didn’t sign it or anything, but a long time ago i vented to you about the abuse and trauma i was enduring, and i wanted to let you know that i’m in a much better state of mind now, and i’ve learned a lot of coping skills that have helped me emotionally regulate to the point i can function. thank you for listening to me during that time and being so supportive, it really helped a lot.

now comes a content warning: [mentions of abuse, physical assault, violence, rape]. i’d like to ask your thoughts on something new. i’m a young adult now, been one for years, i’m working on building my own life and everything, have a healthy romantic relationship now and all that. not everything is perfect, but things are pretty good compared to how it used to be. recently, i started having frequent vivid nightmares. it’s not just general scary stuff. i had a dream that a boy i’ve only talked to a few times raped me. he’s never done that in real life. the dream still felt real. i’ve had multiple nightmares about my dad physically and emotionally abusing me and my family. there’s lots of hitting. last night, i dreamt that he was physically assaulting us, and he even choked me out. i thought he was going to try to kill me. the dreams about my dad have relevance to real life, as he has abused us in real life, though not to the level of violence that my dreams have. i thought the nightmares might be part of trying to finally start to recover from long-term trauma. but some of the dreams don’t have anything to do with trauma i’ve endured. they’re always traumatic, but not trauma i’ve had in real life. i really don’t know what to think or to do. i’ve never had nightmares this bad before, not even in the midst of my real-life trauma. it makes it hard to sleep. i even feel afraid to sleep sometimes, like if one wakes me up in the middle of the night, i might try to stay awake because i’m afraid of what else i might experience when i fall back asleep. on one hand i want to know why i’m having so many so often, so that maybe i can use that information to help relieve myself of them. on the other, i want to know how to cope with them. i know they aren’t real, logically speaking, but i am having real, painful emotional and cognitive experiences, so the knowledge that it “isn’t real” doesn’t really help me. i wanted to ask your thoughts on this. thank you again for listening :) i hope you have a great day ♥️

Hi, nonnie! I might not know what your previous ask was, but I'm really glad to hear from you again and to hear you're doing well. I'm really glad to have been of help ❤️

The nightmares you've been having sound horrific, and I'm really sorry you're going through this :(

I can tell you that it's not uncommon to develop new symptoms of (C-)PTSD years after the traumatic events have stopped. So yes, the nightmares only recently starting up can be a PTSD symptom, even if they never happened during the time you went through the trauma. But I'm not a professional, and I can't really tell you why you're having them so often. I can theorise, and say that maybe as you've progressed in your recovery and have started to feel safe in your real life, your subconscious is feeding you horrible traumatic scenarios in an attempt to keep you prepared in case anything bad happens again, like it doesn't want to let its guard fully down yet. But that's just one possible reason this could be happening.

Also, although I've never had a phase of frequent nightmares as severe as yours, I have had many trauma nightmares over the years, and I've also dreamt about my mother doing things she never actually did in real life. So, you're not the only one! And I personally think it makes sense. Dreams aren't coherent or rational, and they naturally tend to mix reality with fiction, at least for me. So I personally don't worry too much about my trauma nightmares being an accurate reflection of the abuse I endured.

As for ways to cope with the nightmares, I'm afraid I also can't be of much help. I can tell you that certain habits can make us more prone to vividly experiencing/remembering our dreams. For example, if you consistently don't get enough sleep, your brain might sink directly into the deep sleep phase when you go to bed, and that can make you more aware of what you're dreaming. On a different note, one thing that used to help me years ago (not with nightmares, but with insomnia) was to fall asleep while reading the most boring books I could find, and not stop reading until I fell asleep. Maybe this could work as a distraction for you, to keep your mind away from replaying your previous nightmares in your mind as you fall asleep.

Is therapy an option for you currently? It sounds like a good therapist could give you some guidance on how to cope with the nightmares, and could also dig deeper into why this is happening and maybe give you some outlets or exercises to work through what's causing them.

I hope things get better soon. Sending all my support your way ❤️

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 40

Roadkill/Age of Steel

“Roadkill”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: one time I was driving down to Louisville and my gps told me a shortcut that took me through some backroads The Deer Hunter lookin place instead of the highway….I did feel like I was in an episode of spn. But I didn’t get distracted like these two, so I might be alright

How’s this guy gonna leave his wife? girlfriend? in their totaled car in the middle of the woods with not even a text or voicemail to tell her where he went on their ANNIVERSARY

I don’t think you should go into the spooky house in the woods unless you actually live there

Love that everyone is going to sound crazy to everyone else in this scenario…like, we’re joining Sam and Dean already in the middle of their investigation.

MAYBE DONT TAKE YOUR EYES OFF THE ROAD DEAN

Omg…I too would be backing away slowly if I saw the entire arsenal the Winchesters have in their trunk, but, man, I think I’d start running if they told me they were ghost hunting…lucky for them, Molly has had to plead to them to be believed

Dean’s bluntness and Sam’s empathy are a good combination actually

I don’t know that I’d let Molly walk behind me if I knew she was in the kind of danger she’s in…she’d be right at my side

We’re getting philosophical up in this bitch this afternoon

Oh they KNOW what happened to her husband???

God I hate jump scares…even when I know for sure they’re coming because they’re playing House of the Rising Sun

“You’re like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.” What does that make you, Dean?? You’re one too

“thank god” “call me Dean” bestieee please (though to be honest, it’s the kind of stupid remark I’d also make in that kind of situation)

There are 10 minutes left, this can’t possibly be over….wait what??? How…how long was she there? Is…is SHE dead? Is MOLLY ALSO A GHOST?? Omg…how horrific to have to relive a night like that every year

I really do resent how good some of these episodes can be…

“Been On My Mind…”: the only characters they interact with are an already married woman and the ghost, so………no

"Age of Steel"

Did I even mention Ricky in the last episode?? Because...it's very funny to see that actor being something of a hardass after watching him be Mickey for a season and a half.

Love that Ricky just has the most parking tickets and that's got him on some most wanted list...truly love that for him

Is this the moment Mickey starts getting some self respect? well...alternate-self respect? becuase Ricky told him he wasn't so bad

Did the cybermen just kill Ricky??? RIP

These little punk rebels are adorable, and they care so much about each other (as they should and would). It's just sad that there are so few and one of them just died...

YES YES YES!!! YOU DID IT!! You gained self respect!!

Half expected that cyberman to turn its head as they passed....because that would of course happen.

And this, kids, is why you stick to wired headphones. Get rid of your air pods now, guys

Even though you see the people right before they turn into cybermen, they're already being controlled and are very robotic, it's easy to think of them as sci-fi fodder, but listening to the cyberman whose emotional inhibitor gets turned off or destroyed...talking about how she's getting married and is worried that her fiance might see her before the wedding...just destroyed me

And then having Mickey straight up looney tunes trick the cyberman to disable the transmitter. Brilliant

This dude has factories on all seven continents?? Why've you got them on Antarctica my dude??

"I'd call you a genius, except I'm in the room." love when he's like that.

Don't they call Ten something like "the one who regrets" in the 50th anniversary special? Is that why he's always telling all his enemies and everyone he fails to save "I'm so sorry." I swear they call him the one who regrets and Eleven the one who forgets...and I'm gonna go crazy til we get tho that point.

Characters who learn to operate vehicles from video games are underrated. Except Mickey's not so bad at flying this zeppelin where as Spinner shouldn't have been allowed on the road...

I'm so proud of Mickey...(wait, then how DOES he come back later?)

Okay but low key I want the adventures of Mickey and Jack liberating the world from the clutches of the cybermen. Just think it would be neat.

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Ahead there be

It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either.

So right off the bat, she's awoken from slumber in the middle of the night and she KNOWS this about Bucky. To me? That reads intimacy, and intimacy that goes beyond sex, but let's see if I'm right.

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…” “Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person.

Finishing sentences? Mmmhm. Suspicion confirmed as far as I am concerned, lol.

“Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it. “You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.” “I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

There's an obvious desire emanating from her to take care of him, and if Bucky is "always" paying for cars, to me, that's a love language and another kind of care. So again ... that's an intimacy at play here between these two.

You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes. But it wasn't that cut and dry.

Ohhhhhhhhhh no lol. Complication! I'm not a person who normally does angst so I'm hoping that doesn't come into play here, but it SEEMS like we are heading towards her DEFINITELY having feelings but not supposed to? And unrequited love can be so difficult *worried*

After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole. He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

Absolutely gorgeous description. I read it a few times on my first go through of this story. So much of the Bucky fic I used to read would have him broken and stuck there, needing to be saved essentially. This reads to me like he understands himself, he knows what he has to do and he's starting that work. This is not someone who will be passive in their recovery and I LOVE that for him, so thank you for this portrayal, it makes my heart sing.

“You wanna be my angel?”

Is there any answer other than YES PLEASE???

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

Oh nooooooooooooo

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other. Unlike your last boyfriend. As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him. Was it a recipe for disaster?

Gurl, I am so sorry, but you are headed for HEART AAAAAAACHE. And we are headed for angst, me thinks :( I mean, especially is someone is taking care of you in ways that are SUPERIOR to your last partner ... like, how are you not supposed to fall for them? And then they look like Bucky freakin' Barnes! Sigh. I'm already anxious.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him. You had it bad.

The way I want her to tell the driver KEEP GOING and just go on the run cuz like, she's going to get her heart broken. "Almost hurts to look at him" reminds me of Jordan Catalano and My So-Called Life so I am here for that bit of nostalgia as well!

Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

See, this level of comfort between 2 folks? It's so ideal. That's what we all aspire to, no? So I can COMPLETELY understand being seduced by that and catching feelings!

He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

Yay for a shoutout to his bestie!

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in. It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

HE HAS FEELINGS TOO! You don't keep things people MAKE FOR YOU and give out exclusive invites to people you don't .... let me be quiet.

He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

Consent is always sexy, love this. Fits with Bucky to a t.

You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you. Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

Beautifully written again. Not only do the specific smells referenced draw me even further into that room with them, but seeing him through her eyes is also comforting and brings a warmth because there's respect and reverence there.

“You really trust that I won’t hurt you?” Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

So you can be someone who knows they need to heal, starts the work to do so, but what I've learned personally on my own journey is while many of us THINK or WOULD LIKE that journey to be linear? There are actually peaks and valleys. And Bucky has hit a valley and it makes me want to hug him.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

So I'm a fan of Doctor Who and I reference the Twelfth Doctor as My Doctor and this was one of the questions that was one of his consistent storylines. It's something I wonder about myself all the time and why I identified with and adore 12 so much. And to know Bucky is having a moment where he's going through it ... I'm just very relieved that he's not alone and has support.

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare. “You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

I wanna hug her too now for knowing her self so well that she can answer without hesitation which is something he NEEDS at that moment.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play. So were you.

DAMN that switch flipped QUICK! But I love that ... for him, her, and all of us

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.” “I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned. And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

“You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.” Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed. “And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

LORRRRRRRRRRRRRRDT! I love a talkative partner in the bedroom and this Bucky is VERY GOOD at the salacious sexy talk.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.” “Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?” His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

All the blessings as Bucky is extremely attentive and well prepared for after care which I LOVE. That doesn't come up in enough fic for me that explores this dynamic so seeing it here is top notch.

He doesn't want to go to therapy which makes me laugh.

“Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.” “That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat. “Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say. Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that. Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

and then

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl. Permanently.

.............. IDK what to do with myself lol

And that's how I felt after reading this for the first time, and again now when I went through for feedback. There's such an amazing bond between these two but I am SO reading ATTACHMENT and like ... what I've read about the D/s lifestyle, that's not a requirement so like ... if Bucky doesn't fess up to feelings, she's gonna get hurt cuz she's a goner and NONE OF US BLAME HER!

The smut, which I didn't even touch on because I'm so obsessed with the connection between these two is also VERY hot and spicy. Highly recommend.

I don't know if there's going to be more with these 2 but if there is, I hope that it comes across my dash again (thanks for the rec @buckets-and-trees) and thank you for creating and sharing @navybrat817

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[vaguelyrotten]

Through the Shadows, To the Edge of Night - Chapter 9

Weighed down by nightmares and bad memories, Alec Lightwood feels like he's just a ghost of the man he once was. When a new neighbor moves in next door and the man and his adorable charge become an integral part of his life, Alec starts to see a light out of the darkness…that is until a single horrific night forces him to relive the horrors of his past.

They moved quickly after their realization and Alec was pleased to see that not a single member of their assembled group had walked away. Clary liased with the NYPD, who was pulling together their own team, and would meet them at their destination. Lydia, thankfully, had the forethought to gather some gear and tech from the Institute before she’d left so they wouldn’t be going in entirely blind. Simon and Isabelle had disappeared at one point with promises of a quick return as they all got ready and when they’d turned back up, it was clear that they’d raided the FBI stashes as well. Alec really didn’t want to know what his sister had done to gain herself access inside. 

He could tell that they were about ready to leave — Jace was checking his guns for the final time and Simon had set himself up a battle station on Alec’s kitchen table to help coordinate their efforts from the side lines as he wasn’t cleared for the field duty and didn’t want to get in anyone’s way. He’d already sent out a drone to the warehouse to do some preliminary reconnaissance so they had a clearer idea of what they were walking into. 

Alec grabbed Magnus’ wrist and pulled him into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them so that they weren’t disturbed. “Are you sure you’re ready for whatever it is we’re about to walk into? No one will think any less of you if you choose to stay here with Simon.”

Magnus’ eyes darkened at Alec’s words and he ripped his hand from his boyfriend’s grasp. “Are you saying that you think I’ll be a detriment to the group too? Just because I choose not to be a field agent, doesn’t mean I don’t go through the same training as everyone else. I prefer the luxury of my lab but that doesn’t mean I can’t handle a gun or a knife or defend myself should the need arise. I —”

“Magnus! I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t handle yourself, I just… I want you to be safe, okay? We still don’t entirely know what we’re going to find in there and…what if they take you too? Madzie needs you and if I think about the possibility of them getting their hands on you and what happened to me during the year that they had me…I can’t stand the thought of you  going through what I had to go through.”

His boyfriend’s face softened and his hand came up to cup Alec’s chin. “I know exactly what danger I’m opening myself up to, Alexander, but I’ll probably be the safest one in our party. I know you won’t leave my side and while I just met them, I have a feeling that your siblings won’t let you out of their sight ergo, we’ll both be under their watchful eyes. Besides, we’ve got people from the Institute, the FBI, and the NYPD… it won’t be like it was when you were taken and alone. There’s no possible way what happened to you happens again. We’ll be alright, Alexander.”

Alec sighed and he knew that there was no argument that he could make that would convince Magnus to sit on the sidelines, not when it was Madzie’s wellbeing on the line. “Just be safe, alright? I can’t lose you. Promise me that you’ll be safe.”

“Oh Alexander, only if you promise me that you’ll be safe too. You promised Madzie that we’d go and ride the carousel when it got warmer. She’d be ever so distraught if we couldn’t go.”

A knock from his bedroom door sounded before Alec had a chance to respond. His sister poked her head around the door and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the two of them standing in the middle of Alec’s bedroom. “I’m sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but we’re ready to go. Raphael and Jace managed to procure a couple of vans — everyone is packed and Simon’s ready to do whatever tech-y stuff he’s about to do. It’s time to head out to bring Madzie home.”

Magnus’ hand fell from Alec’s cheek to take his hand and give it a squeeze. “Come on then, Secret Agent Man. Show me what you’ve got.”

Isabelle cackled at Magnus’ blatant flirting and Alec had to bite back a groan. When all of this was passed them, his sister and his boyfriend were going to be an insufferable duo out to make his hair grey, he just knew it. 

Their group piled into the two vans and the ride over to Dark Horse Ironworks was silent and Alec felt himself slipping in that mindset that he used for missions. They stopped the vans about half a mile out where they’d agreed to meet the NYPD because they didn’t want to give the Circle any notice that they had been made. Clary’s stepfather introduced himself and his team but deferred to Alec to fill everyone in and make sure they had a plan in place before they moved forward. 

“Simon’s research turned up the plans that were originally filed with the city. As far as we can tell, there haven’t been any major renovations to the building since it was shut down. Besides the main entrance, there are three others and I think we should split into groups and tackle those that way — Jace, you and Iz take the back door, Clary and Raphael can take the one on the lower level and Lydia and Luke can take the side door.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, buddy,” Jace said, holding up a hand and cutting Alec off before he could continue. Lydia can go with Iz, Clary and Raphael are fine, and Luke and his team will work better together. I’m coming with you. We lost you once to these assholes, I’m not going to lose you again.”

“I won’t be alone,” Alec huffed though he already knew he was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll have Magnus.”

“And you’ll have Jace too,” Isabelle butted in as well. “It’s not up for negotiation, Alec. I have plenty of faith that you and Magnus would protect each other if the need arose but after thinking you were dead for a year only to learn you were being tortured while none of us could find even a trace of you, you’ll get extra body with you and you won’t complain about it. We need this, Alec. You might not think you need it but we need it for our peace of mind.”

“No harm in letting your brother come with us,” Magnus said softly, his voice just loud enough for Alec to hear. “I certainly wouldn’t mind an extra set of eyes making sure you’re okay.”

Alec wanted to groan but he knew that it wouldn’t do them any good. “Fine, Jace, Magnus and I take the front. Lydia and Iz will go through the back, Clary and Raphael are still on the lower level and Luke and the NYPD will take the side door. Remember, we don’t know exactly what we’re going to find in there but if it’s anything like I saw at Black Rock Farms, we can assume that there will be victims other than Madzie. Don’t shoot unless absolutely necessary, we don’t want to risk injuring any innocents and we want any Circle members we may find alive for questioning. Don’t be afraid to radio for assistance if you find yourself in need and don’t do anything stupid,” he paused, sending a pointed glance at his brother. “Looking at you, Jace.”    

“I’m not the one that got kidnapped,” Jace muttered under his breath though Alec chose to ignore him and continue. 

“Our goal here today is to get Madzie out safely. If we come across other victims in the process, we do the same for them. While we can’t rid ourselves of the Circle in one fell swoop, the Black Rock project ends here today. I’m giving you one more chance to walk away.” When no one did, Alec nodded to his team. “You’ve got your orders. Let’s move out.”

 Magnus fell into step at Alec’s side and Jace took the rear as they made their way to the front door where they saw a familiar car sitting in a lone parking spot. “I see it,” Alec whispered to his brother, knowing Jace would try to point it out. Magnus made a soft hum in question next to him. “Institute issued sedan. The plates tell us it’s registered to Hodge. I can’t say I was expecting to see him here today - he may have thrown me to the wolves but it’s not like him to hurt a child.”

“Yeah, well…it seems we’ve learned a lot about Hodge tonight,” Jace grumbled, following Alec into the building, his gun at the ready. 

The foyer of the building was dark and silent. There were the remains of a check in desk and waiting area that had seen better days and a handful of promotional material that had faded with age strewn across the floor. Alec stepped carefully, trying not to make too much noise as they moved through the rubble. His eyes took in every nook and cranny in the room, looking for obvious traps or cameras.

Finding none, nor any obvious signs that the building was even remotely occupied, Alec continued through a door that was hanging off its hinges into what he could only guess were offices when the Ironworks had been up and running. “Alec,” Isabelle’s voice crackled from the com device in his ear. “We’ve got…a situation. We’re handling but they’re not going to realize they aren’t alone for long. This place is going to be swarming soon - we had to call for triage.”

Jace swore but Alec ignored him. “Madzie?” He asked, frowning as he held up his hand for the rest of the party to stop. 

“Not with us but there are others… they’re alive but they’re in bad shape.”

“Do what you need to do. The rest of us will carry on as quickly as we can. If anyone else comes across something, let us know ASAP,” he said, addressing the other teams who were on the same comms channel. He went to take another step forward but Magnus’ hand pulled him backward. 

“Look,” his boyfriend whispered, pointing out something barely visible in the darkness of the building. “Blood splatter.” 

“Are you sure?” Jace asked, squinting in the direction that Magnus was pointing. “I think that could just be dirt. This place is filthy.” 

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I’m sure. I make my living looking at this sort of stuff all day. That’s blood splatter and it looks like whoever it belonged to was on the move. There’s some more further down the hall,” he said, moving ahead of Alec and taking the lead as he followed the path. 

Alec was grateful that his long legs let him keep up with the other man. Magnus followed the path through winding halls before stopping in front of a door illuminated by a single flickering bulb. Without saying a word, Magnus pointed to a small pool of blood oozing out from under the door. Alec pushed Magnus behind him and made two quick hand gestures to his brother to give him his orders before he grabbed the knob and twisted it open.

The room was fully lit, unlike the rest of the building they’d seen thus far and Alec’s eyes immediately found the source of the blood. “Fuck,” he swore, dropping to his knees at the sight of his former mentor currently bleeding out on the ground in front of him. “Hodge, hold on.”

“Alec, I’m sorry,” the other agent whispered as he weakly grabbed for Alec’s hand.

“Don’t talk,” Alec responded, looking around for something to stop the bleeding. “Save your strength. We’ll get out of here.”

“No, I have to tell you…we both know that I’m not getting out of here alive. I’ve already lost too much blood. I’m sorry for the part I played in what happened to you and I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything to get you back when it was clear that something had gone wrong. The sight of the state you were in when you stepped off that plane is something that will haunt me even in the afterlife. I taught you, I trained you, and I used that knowledge against you. I’m so sorry…and I know it’s not something I deserve forgiveness for.”

“You can tell me later, Hodge,” Alec said and he hated the tremble that he could hear in his voice. “Just stop, please.”

His mentor’s eyes flickered closed again. “I did believe in what the Circle was trying to accomplish. I thought that the Institute wasn’t doing enough to keep us safe. I let those misguided beliefs lead me into doing some terrible things but I swear to you I wasn’t aware of what they were doing with Black Rock. It’s not until he asked me to meet him here tonight and I saw the little girl, did I piece everything together. I tried to get her out, I did, I didn’t want anything to happen to her but —”

“Shh,” Alec whispered, blinking away the tears in his eyes before they could form. “It’s alright, Hodge…but Madzie. We need to find her. Where is she?”

“He has her in the main room,” Hodge replied, his voice weaker than it was before as it trailed off. “Through that door.”

Alec gave his mentor’s hand one last squeeze, knowing that it was likely the last time that he would see him before he turned his attention to his brother. “Jace…stay with him. He shouldn’t be alone.”

He let Magnus pull him to his feet and they crossed the room to the door Hodge had mentioned quickly. “Remember,” he whispered as his hand hovered over the knob. “Whatever happens, I’m here with you. Everything is going to be okay.” 

The door opened to reveal the Iron Works proper. Giant rusty machinery loomed down at him from what seemed to be every single corner of the room. A single overhead emergency light was the only thing illuminating the large space. Under the bulb was an old wooden chair and two figures that Alec knew far too well — his little terrified neighbor and the man who had been responsible for the torture that Alec had endured for a year. 

“Sebastian,” Alec growled, tightening the grip on his gun as he neared the center of the room. “I’d say it was lovely to see you again but I’d be lying through my teeth if I did.”

“Ah, look, it’s the one that got away. I must say, I enjoyed our time together greatly. Would you like to play again? I’ve learned some new tricks since we last met…or maybe you would prefer to watch while I show our little friend here everything I know?”

Madzie let out a scared sob and Magnus rushed forward. Sebastian placed his own gun against the little girl’s temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Mr. Bane. I would stay right there. You wouldn’t want me to spook, would you?” Magnus froze in place and lowered his gun at Sebastian’s words. The man gave them a wolfish grin. “And you know what? I frighten so easily, I think it’s best if you both lose those weapons, don’t you? Put them on the ground now please.”

Alec did as he was asked slowly. He knew that if he could just stall for a little bit longer, someone on the team was likely to find them and possibly even their odds. Magnus copied Alec’s motion and they both rose to their feet with their hands in the air. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” Sebastian sneered before turning his attention to the forensic technician. “Magnus Bane — you sure keep interesting company, I must admit. At first, I thought that you were nothing more than a rather irritating thorn in my side but imagine my surprise when we learned who your neighbor was. Two birds with one stone? The thought practically makes me giddy.”

“Let Madzie go, Sebastian,” Magnus gritted out. “She’s innocent. If you have a problem, it’s with me. I’m the one who got close to shutting down your pet project. She has nothing to do with this and neither does Alec.”

“Oh but Lightwood was such a fun toy that I wasn’t finished playing with…and it’s obvious he missed our time together too since he came right back to me! And why would I let this little one go? I’ve already got buyers clamoring for a piece of her. As for you, Bane…well, you are quite pretty. A little training and some learned obedience and I’m sure we can find some interest in you as well.”

Alec couldn’t help the growl that escaped his throat. He was sick and tired of playing Sebastian’s games and Madzie and Magnus shouldn’t have to hear the things coming out of his mouth. Movement from the machines behind Sebastion caught his attention and he tried not to give anything away as he noticed his brother lurking in the shadows, his gun aimed and ready. 

“Mags,” Alec whispered, trying not to let his mouth move too much in case Sebastian could read lips. “Do you trust me? Really, really trust me?”

This close, he could read Magnus’ surprise. “Of course. With my life, with Madzie’s. Do you have a plan, Alexander?”

Alec made a humming noise before turning his attention back to Sebastian and fixing him with an icy glare. “You ruined my life for a year, Sebastian, you and your father…now Valentine is dead and I think it’s about time you joined him. I won’t let you ruin any more lives, not when I can do anything about it.” He glanced down at Madzie who had tears streaming in her face as she sobbed through the gag in her mouth. “Hey sweetpea, we’re going to get you out of here. I need you to look right at me, okay? Just focus on me.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, Lightwood? You have no way out even if you did, my men would take care of you before you could leave the building.”

“On me, Madzie. Ready? One,” he said softly as Sebastian continued to protest. He saw Jace step from the shadows and take aim. “Two,” he continued as he felt Magnus tense next to him. His brother’s finger hovered over the trigger. “Three.”

A shot rang out and the room went deadly quiet. Sebastian’s body fell to the floor. 

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge huge fact going on it's a f**** fight they're all trying to be me and seems idiots Stan is the head guy but he's almost a clone of me can't help it cuz the others want to use them. And it's ridiculous this idiot is sitting there trying to imitate the voice on TV he doesn't have it quite yet he's doing it to the person who was the demon in other words there was nobody there so manifestation and our sop is to turn them to humans so here comes this idiot I don't know where right now yelling at me tell me I can't see that that says you're an idiot and it's stand and it's the heat of the night it's my show and I'm there listening to those crap I'm looking at a stupid gloves his dumb costume he looks like the guy from Texas chainsaw massacre or whatever that fruit loop movie is is both of them but they're falling apart and they're dead and they're eating people and they think it's scary enough to put on TV it's just gross and people kill them and they're stupid okay they're using the same method and they're not winning battles and they're not winning fights and they just keep doing it it's hard it's horrific they're so dumb. It's like a lizard going back to the same spot and all the lizards died and just keeps doing it and we've seen lizards do it. This a****** dopes with all sorts of stuff and he won't stop and her friend next door is telling them all sorts of stuff go away or else everyone's after you you're getting arrested every day you're getting killed every day by Jason he won't back off him just sit there saying stupid s*** and doing stupid s*** all day most of it's women's stuff. The idiot b**** doesn't get it either you say it right to their face and they don't understand what you're saying think what we're saying is we're going to kill you McAfee for what you're doing with this idiot to our friend here that's what we're saying and you end up blabbing and you feel better and you go off and do it and they kill you. They're finding trumpsters bodies. In a sense as Dan is probably in the middle whichever one he is stupid murders but they kill each other all the time and it's not just one person and they're all doing this stupid crap but really in this case it is Dan and he's a massive a****** and needs attention. So we think the guy playing the sun is Billy z because Dick Tracy's car is on site and he's saying he's investigating but he's causing it and he's probably murdering most of them as it's been found out with Reagan and JFK.

Your son says it they're going to eat their way to the top on Australia and New Zealand and it's the clones and they killed Sarah and it's because he talked she talked to Tommy f he lost his whole life and family and everything to them and they said that they don't have any use for his family they killed his whole clan and it was sizable he said we have to rule from both and they wouldn't listen and the torture this s*** out of him. So they're riding along and Tommy fstard laughing and it was at Otis and sunset what kind of the same situation a little and said yeah and then said I'm not gay and that adds to your torture not to the clothes he said nod to the clones and he started laughing so loud that sounds like what's wrong and they're driving along and it was one of the weirdest scenes I've ever seen two very tortured people having a decent time and laughing and it is on recording and we have a video it is Max doing and it's over the top and said the poor boy is being tortured so much it's not right and he said this I don't think I have any stomach for it anymore and the clones are nuts they're insane people and there's a whole bunch of them and Tommy f is more solid thought than they do and he's got a plan it is happy to because it was about computers but boy he's kind of going off the wall down here but you just saw what happened one of the clones killed the lady and framed him and it's not much he can do and he told Sarah there's not much you can do in life he can't cut and run he can't go somewhere else and he's a cursing and she almost got sick when she heard the story again and inside her head she's thinking nobody has been tortured like that that I know of ever nobody has ever got it that bad and then she goes Chris is a close second. We left a little and he left and they're back to their battle with husband wife and they discovered something these clones are at us and it's not what Tommy F was saying but they go after him and bother him and harass him and they're sicker than hell a lot of people caught on to it it's really the most weirdest thing I've ever seen

Thor Freya

[rebelthree]

@everythingheard​ continued from x

maybe they should. the thought crosses her mind almost as soon as he utters the opposing thought. which, was a strange contrast to her annoyance at the program a few moments prior. her mind is scattered, disjointed, thoughts whirling around in a raging sea. she hates the way the news portrays the bprd. hates the way people rage against her father who only wants people to coexist, to cooperate with each other, to see the world, to see people like he does. without bias. she remembers when she was young and ash and tamsin first came to the bprd, how agents would watch the news coverage and how they’d expressed disbelief at people’s lack of understanding. did they not realize what would happen if they weren’t there to stop the things that went bump in the night? of course, they’d shielded her from it just as they had ash and his sister but georgie always had more freedom within the halls of the bprd. she’d grown up there since she was a baby and that had afforded her a kind of invisibility at times. when you were always around people didn’t notice you when you peered through doorways. she’d heard what was said about tamsin and while she hadn’t understood everything, it had only made her more determined to befriend her and ash. now, however, after all this time, after what happened, she couldn’t see the flaws in what they were saying about herself. people watched. people listened to the reports and they hated her without ever knowing her. they hated the idea of her. they hated that darkness existed. that monsters were real. maybe they hated the concept more than the girl but.. she had done the things they accused her of. she had wrought havoc, chaos, destruction. they weren’t wrong to fear her. she feared herself. and that meant he should fear her too.

she lets out a laugh but it’s a horrific kind of laugh that sounds wrong coming from her, so very very wrong. one void of any amusement. it’s hollow, almost manic and it’s.. quiet. oh, absolution. there was no absolution for her but she knew, she knew him, she knew he wouldn’t be able to see that. that under his frustrations, his stubbornness, and his anger he held so much hope.. so much faith that he burst with it. he had faith and hope in her, she realized. he always had faith in her and maybe that was some selfish part of her that had always drawn her to him. his belief in her. his ability to make her see things in new ways, to have confidence in herself. but she wasn’t the same girl that sat in silence in his room until he finally engaged with her. she wasn’t the same girl that he’d kissed while looking at pictures in an old photo album, or that shared.. other kisses, moments, what ifs. she wasn’t the same girl that he’d gone to a pool with in the middle of the night. she was.. she didn’t know what she was anymore. she didn’t know how she felt anymore. she didn’t know her own mind anymore. her own emotions. she couldn’t trust herself. couldn’t trust that her mind was showing her the truth anymore. she wondered if this is what insanity felt like. she felt as if she’d been broken into a million pieces and whatever of her that had once been had been left inside a hellscape that still assaulted her mind in her dreams. that still burned under the surface of her skin. that what she had been made to do was actually a part of her that was just waiting to be unleashed again. he was wrong. he just couldn’t see it. “it wasn’t me that stopped-- it was.. the weird connection i have with my dad. it broke through long enough to.. it doesn’t fucking matter.” a flare of anger rises within her tone and there’s a sudden smash of glass as the television breaks. what if it hadn’t have been the television? 

silence. she doesn’t.. react. not when the glass breaks or the television makes a weird sound before it completely dies. it’s as if she’s suddenly frozen. as if she’s in some kind of momentary shock. as if she’s suddenly somewhere else. she’s holding her breath. her eyes scan the side of the room she can see, she sees her old fish light as the scene of swimming fish circles the light. a beat passes, then another, until finally she breathes out and it’s something audible as if it’s more of a gasp for air. she’s present again and she’s rolling over, slowly. gaze connects with his and she’s crying but her words are serious, grounded in her perception of the truth within them. she doesn’t want to be crying. she doesn’t want to.. she doesn’t know what she wants or doesn’t want. she can’t get a handle on how she feels, everything is disconnected as if she’s a ghost. everything feels wrong and she doesn’t know how to make it stop feeling wrong. “it’d have been better if i just stayed there.” better for everyone else, better for him where maybe he could have held onto hope instead of being met with whatever it was she had become. better for the dead agent’s families, and maybe, as fucked up as it was to think, better for her because at least there she was lost in the pain of distortion. at least there she knew what she felt even if it was terror and survival. here, she just felt lost and dangerous.