#and cut the cords of this flesh covered doll

[shaddy-bee]

.

[lamamasjamas]

NEXUS

Nexus /ˈneksəs/ n 1 a connection or series of connections linking two or more things. 2 a connected group or series. 3 the central and most important point or place.

Chapter 3 Summary: Waking up and going back to sleep.

Part 1 here! Part 2 here!

A/n: OOOGA BOOOGA BOOOGA. There's falshbacks now.

Warnings for the series: Dead Dove Do Not Eat!!!, getting lost in the unknown regions, Death, Gore, cosmic horror, very heavy topics, smut, angst, fluff, dark themes. This is a dark fic; you have been warned!

You woke up alone, and startled. The bunk was dark and the door was closed. You were alive, you thought. You were alive and all of your limbs were intact but the cot was a mess, you were laying on the wires, the cushion, sheets and pillows nowhere to be seen. 

The second theory must be true, pieces of the panels in the small bunk were missing, trinkets were scattered, some even halfway through the wall. Your fingers poke at it, it doesn’t move, now one with the oxidizing panel. The small doll you had collected, kept for Grogu, was stiff, half of its body cut in half diagonally, only an arm and leg flopping back against the metallic walls with a dull thud when you held it between your fingertips and let go. 

You shivered, mind finally clearing. Din wasn’t with you.  

The sounds of muffled screaming made you panic. They were in such agony. Your mind immediately tells you its Din. Your hand was against the control panel, hesitating as the screaming continued. You didn’t want to see what cruel amalgamation he must have become. You didn't want to see what he had turned into. With a sob nearly escaping your throat you open the sliding doors and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.  

The walls were covered in vines, the hull panels were either rotting off or missing completely.  

Din wasn’t the one screaming. 

You approach slowly, the piercing screams of the Trandoshan bounty heard vibrating through the cargo hold. Half of the carbon slab was cracked open, leading to a path of blood across and towards the other side of the hull. The bounty turns as you near. You failed to notice that the other half of his body was still inside of the broken slab. You gasp as he starts crawling towards you. His eyes were wild, and with each push forward his screams exemplified his pain. 

Insurmountable fear builds in your body, each slap of his hands on the metal floor booming, each drag making him yell so hard it sounded as if his vocal cords were going to tear. 

He falls, face first onto the ground but he continues on helplessly, using his forearms to shuffle on. 

You back away quickly, the wall forcing you to stop, you were on the verge of spilling the contents of your stomach. He was able to reach your leg and you were finally able to get a closer look at the torn flesh of his lower torso and the spinal cord poking out from it, gushing thick green. 

You gag, your eyes watering at the sharp smell of musk, something akin to rotten flesh. 

You don’t want to think of how he even survived this long, or how long he must have been in that state. Blood was rushing through your ears and you couldn’t quite comprehend him.

In between grunts and moans of pain you hear pleads. Pleads for you to bring him to his death. You shakily reach for your blaster, almost dropping it to the floor. He’s gripping your legs like a lifeline, claws digging deep into your skin and muscle. You couldn’t look down at his face as you pointed between his eyes. 

Deep down you hope you aimed correctly. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, your hand against your mouth. You press against the trigger.  

…

The makeshift ditch you dug up was small. You were sure he didn’t even deserve a proper burial, Din only picked up those who truly deserved to be hunted. Still, what had happened to him. It made you have some sort of pity.  

He might have been in that state for days, weeks, you didn’t care to check how his healing was going, you tried your best to shove the slab with the bounty’s lower half down in the hole of dirt quickly. 

You didn’t even know where you were, it was barren but lush with so much plant life that you wondered if there was anyone or thing that could help you. Everything was foreign to you, the land and air so similar to what you have experienced but just a hint too different so that you couldn’t be comfortable. 

The sky looked too blue and the grass swayed slowly with the breeze. It was too nice. But, what you really found odd was the lack of sound.  

You felt the wind, you could see it blowing through the leaves, making bushes shake and the grass beneath your boot tickle at the leather seams. But everything was silent. It was as if your ears were stuffed with cotton. Out of instinct you clawed at them, stopping when you realized you didn’t suddenly go deaf. You often had to calm yourself down whenever the heavy atmosphere pressed down on you. 

Your lungs felt as if they could give out any second from the mutedness as you searched around the ship. 

It was starting to eat at you, sound was only coming from your own voice, your own movements. It felt as if you were in a bubble, pressure threatening to pop. You think that this was most likely how claustrophobia felt like. 

You search around the ship, looking for him. You look through every nook as if you could have possibly not seen his form, as if he were playing a sick game of hide and seek and he was going to pop up beneath a blanket just how Grogu did whenever you all played together.

The quiet was screaming at you. They're not here, they are not here.

There was nothing around that indicated that he was even remotely alive. If anything the ship looked as if it had been there for years.  

You’ve checked the cockpit and there wasn't any power left, no fuel either. The rations were gone and the whole ship was covered in thick vines. Some crates were stuck, sunken into the floor of the ship, tipped tauntingly at you; a response to the way you had tried to open them and ultimately failed hours before. 

The crest was abandoned and ransacked. You screamed out in frustration and kicked the console when you climbed up to the cockpit, finding nothing but random tools and dirty and oily rags Din always forgets to clean when he shines his armor. The whole pit rattles and shakes, laughing at your childish behavior. 

You’ve never felt so hopeless. You looked towards the blaster at your hip and flinched, swallowing thickly when you couldn’t look away. You were stranded, alone, with no food to eat, and with no hope to ever leave this place.  

There is always a misconception of human beings somehow being able to persevere, to have the innate need to survive in whatever situation they were in, no matter how dire. What if you didn’t want to?  

You tilt your head up as the sun sets in the horizon. You think of the uncanny beauty of it as you raise the barrel to the side of your head. If you placed it correctly, it would be as painful as it was to go to sleep. 

Even if somehow your aim fails you, you’re sure you would only feel so much pain after a couple of seconds, then you’d become numb. You’ve seen it before, a fallen and half molten face from a blaster shot, skin sagging and singed as their body continues to walk on, hands reaching for the face that wasn’t there anymore. 

You’ve had to soothe them, help them lay down as they cried, or attempted to considering their eyes were only caverns of bone. They pass out after a while, then they’d stop breathing. It was a temporary pain you were willing to go through. For the chance of seeing Din again. 

Just as you were about to close your eyes an orange and gray glow lit up. It wasn’t that far from where you sat in the pilot seat of the cockpit, Din’s seat. You squint as smoke rises a few miles off. 

You turn on the safety with a click and stand.  

…

“You can tell they’ve been camping out here for a while.'' He shuffles you in front of him and points ahead. His helmet was right beside your face, so close you can feel the coolness of it caress the skin of your cheek. You hum in agreement. The bounties managed to stay hidden in the forest, you've been looking for them for a while.  

Currently crouched and hidden behind a fallen tree you watch as they could barely get a fire started. “Not smart,” he comments. You hum again as you watch them carefully through the binoculars. 

“Moving constantly would have given them an advantage. If anything they should have at least started the fire until it was dark, that way we couldn’t have detected the smoke as easily”  

He’s talking strategy and you can’t help but swoon. You shift slightly, trying to get closer to his side, maybe even slide your hand in his and feel his chest rise and fall against your back. You almost slip from the mud before his arm winds around your waist and hoists you against his body. You curse under your breath as the heads of the bounties perk up at the sound of your awkward shuffling.  

You were spotted and in a span of a second blaster fire was directed towards you both. You groan in irritation as he pushes you behind him to take the brunt of the hits. Always the savior to his little medic. 

…

The moon shone brightly. It was almost shaped and shaded exactly like the moon in Tatooine, Chenini. Uncanny in its similarities. It had the same face with similar blemishes and craters. It brought you some comfort.  

The dry bitter scent of smoke was getting stronger and a hint of meat makes your nose burn.  Your stomach growled loudly, it shocked you how shaken you were by the sudden noise. You were getting so used to the muted atmosphere that even such a muffled sound startled you.  

You heard his mumbled conversation before you saw him. “No!” His mumbles and repetitions of the word sounded as if he were begging, “ You can’t,” he hisses in finality.  

You wait for a response. The only sound being that of the crackling fire. 

“You don’t understand. It's too dangerous!”  

You crouch and drag your feet firmly against the ground, just how he taught you. You move closer to the small camp and hide behind a tree, your back against the bark and digging into the sharp edges.  

“It’s all my fault. I should have listened to you…” For a moment you pray it isn’t who you think it is.

The man’s cries and whimpers echo through the forest.  

…

He’s been gone for 10 months. He didn’t tell you what for. He doesn't respond to your messages, your calls, anything, and it’s starting to worry you. You know it's been rough, with Grogu being gone, this new responsibility being placed on him from the darksaber, and his identity crises. You assumed you would get through it together. 

For now, you were traveling across the galaxy, helping people. It’s been nice, quiet, how your life used to be.  

But, It was boring. And you missed him. You always have the com in the back of your pocket, you always check on it, right before going to bed each night. You were starting to think it was just a constant reminder of how he abandoned you, how you were nothing more than a companion to his now fulfilled quest.  

…

It was the end of a shift and everyone was tired from the day. Ever since the Empire had been eradicated, more and more planets requested help. To this day, years after the Battle of Endor, there were still traces of imps around the galaxy. The damage they continue to do everyday goes deeper than trying to salvage what's left of their order, they gained an anger which left flames in their stead. They don’t really care for civilian safety when terrorizing towns and villages.     

You always sigh in relief knowing that you didn’t really graduate from the academy. You left right after Alderaan. The constant propaganda they supplied couldn’t justify what they did then, so many others joined in your sentiment, many of them dying in the process of leaving when they had defected too loudly.   

You said your goodbyes with a lazy wave, the other volunteers and nurses nodding back tiredly. As you step outside the old trade building made to be a medical center you lean against a wall and stare up at the sky. You walk to the apartment you were temporarily staying in after you name every constellation you know.  

Yearning to get back to the skies and out to explore.

You wouldn’t call the walk back ‘home’ out of the ordinary. You greeted the same people, you saw the same trees and stones, you sigh from how normal it all seemed. It wasn’t until you saw footprints bigger than your own imprinted on the dirt path to your apartment that your heart rate picked up. You carefully pried the door open, ensuring that you didn’t make noise as you entered. Your hand tightens around the handle of the knife you bent down to retrieve from your boot. 

The door creeks and you wince. It was a miracle you haven’t been killed yet with your recklessness. He didn’t move, he wasn’t even surprised at hearing your sharp intake of breath. 

You were shocked to see him in your temporary apartment. He was looking through all of the memories and gifts you’ve gathered from every planet you’ve visited so far. Most of them are children’s toys. You had a soft spot for the kids that come through medical and they tend to repay you the only way they know how.  They reminded you of the kid. 

You close the door quietly.  

He gently caresses a wooden figure. The floors creak as he shifts his weight closer to the shelves. You step closer and suddenly he feels so nervous, the anxiety  had been building inside him the moment he decided to get in his ship and grip the steer. His hand falls to his side and he turns. You put your knife back in its sheath against your ankle slowly. 

“How’d you find me?” you ask, steadying your voice to not show how unprepared you were.

“I tracked you,” he said, pointing at your neck which displayed a necklace he had ‘found in a pile of junk’ and that he thought ‘would look nice on you’. Curse your sentimentality for even keeping it on. 

You scoff and narrow your eyes. He watched you intently as your arms crossed over your chest.

“I would have been able to track you without it. Either way, I’ll always find you.” 

Your eye twitched, your frown faltered and your nose started to feel prickly. That did it for you. His words reassured something inside of you that you thought was just a fantasy. 

He steps toward, hands clasping your shoulders in worry, your silence, the tears gathering in your eyes, the way your lips tremble, it makes his chest ache. 

He cared for you even though his actions made it seem as if he felt the exact opposite. You felt like a child. Helpless and stuck, your only hope of a good and fulfilling life now being him. 

Your hands cover your face as tears flow from your eyes. He panics. The only thing he could think of was to wrap his arms around you. It was awkward and he’s pretty sure his posture was too stiff for you to feel any comfort but once you wrapped your arms around his torso he melted.

His knees start to give, your room reminds him so much of Grogu, just the sight of the trinkets in your room, the smell of the linen of your sheets. You were supposed to be a unit, something unbreakable, and he knew deep down he shouldn’t have gotten so attached. He did, even when his mind was blaring warnings at him whenever he found himself in your comfort, in the idea of traveling throughout the galaxy as a clan. 

His hands curled around the bottom of your shirt and he fisted it in his hands. His weight leaned on you and he trembled. Your tears stopped and his began. For a moment you froze but the second he tore his helmet off with ferocity you made him sit on your bed.  

Your look of concern, especially since he thinks he should be begging on his knees for your forgiveness, makes him rethink every decision he’s made after leaving you. 

He pulled you down and cradled you against his chest.  His whispered apologies were said against your hair. He breathes in deeply and slumps against the pillows of your cot in fatigue. 

The night was filled with gentle words, admissions you wouldn’t think were reciprocated and eventually a quiet sleep. 

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Jeff The Killer with Camgirl S/O

How fucking dare you?

Just sitting there with slutty clothes presenting your lovely flesh and figure for other men to see for men who don't own you. Who don't love you, fuck you, or hold you. Something that was his job as he was crowned your boyfriend.

He watches you from across the room as he sat on an old office chair, growing more and more pissed off as you giggle innocently at the webcam sporting on your laptop. The same innocent giggle that you did when you would purposely get him jealous just so he would dick you down later.

He was more than aware of your games and this was just one of them.

His fist clenches nails digging into his clothed knees, threatening to rip the fabric of his jeans. The way your leg slides up and the fishnets showing more than enough of your skin. As far as he knew, that skin only for his eyes to see and of course these disgusting assholes paid to see those parts of you.

The only thing that kept him from not stomping over there and ripping the cords to shreds, shutting the scene down and deactivating your account was because 1. None of them actually get to touch you. They're just seeing from a screen 2. It did bring in money but it was the point of it.

His ears perk up at the familiar ding of when someone pays you a tip, making your smile turn into a toothy grin before licking your lips and spreading your legs a little more, sliding your hand teasingly downwards. "You're willing to pay that much for me to just play with myself? How generous." he snickers, rolling his eyes as that was your fake appreciative voice.

The same way people worked in customer service have but you obviously made more and were happier, it was present in your voice. And it irked him to no end.

Of course, you happened to just pick a perfect shade of lighting for tonight's show. One that happened to be his favorite especially compared to your body.

Cherry red lights with some neon lights in the back, creating the picture perfect shadows for your curves, accentuating the best of you possible, which was every part to him. But red was such a lustful color as well and oh honey, how greatly you were wearing it tonight.

His leg began to bounce up and down in aggravation, slowing feeling the need to chew his nail till they were all bloody.

Ha. How great would it look for you to suck on his fingers, lapping up all of the blood with big doey eyes silently asking for more to taste.

You were such a beautiful creature to break and mold to his perfection.

"Alright then!" you giggle, using your hands to pull down your lacy underwear, swinging it around your finger before making the point to throw it far enough to where it lands on his face.

You watch for a moment admiring the sight of his shoulders tensing as he was sniffing the underwear where your pretty cunt was hiding behind moments ago.

Oh, how sweet you smelled.

But then you pay attention back to the crowd, sliding just one digit down to your puffy folds, beginning to fake moan which almost makes Jeff laugh from behind the scenes.

You were such a liar. You didn't know yourself more than he did. He knew the twists and turns, inside and out and everything else just by how much his dick had paid your cunt a visit. You were his personal cocksleeve anyways.

A few more dings come through, wanting you to use more than your fingers to please yourself. You really wanted to use Jeff's knife handle but you had a feeling the men on this platform were too boring and vanilla for that.

Holding in a sigh, you turn around and get on your knees letting the camera get a nice view of your ass and pussy as you lean towards the lower shelf on the nightstand where you and Jeff kept your plastic box of toys. You smirk as you hear a low growl but roll your eyes his way, sending him a wink but not making it noticeable enough to raise questions.

You hum, turning back around the shirt you wore right now gave visual access to your cleavage.

The urge to claim you in front of others was getting stronger, almost a painful knot in his stomach as he watches you with eager eyes rummaging through the toy box, asking which one they would like to see you use to abuse your cunt with.

Though he didn't want to blow your cover of being 'single' as that was what you claimed because people would want to offer more money to someone who couldn't get help from someone else especially these filthy bastards who think if it wasn't for them, you would be homeless and no way to buy things to customize certain requests and make more money.

His heart started beating faster his breathing harder before he marched over there and the second your eyes connected you knew this was game over.

"Oh shit." you mumble, before being pushed onto your back already knowing to listen to whatever he wanted as he was your real savior.

He turns to the camera with an angry look on his face, several usernames exiting out of the room but plenty remained but the chat stopped with the emojis and suggestions. He continues to stare down at the screen before snapping his head over to you.

"You want to show them who you really belong to?" Oh how quick your submissive side caved for him and you nod, whimpering a little as he was taking a bit too long for your liking.

"That's a good girl." he smirks, taking out his knife from his hoodie the bit of light making the blade glint, moving a little to the side so the audience had just enough of a view to see what he was going to do.

He reverses the knife so it was the handle that teases your sopping sweetness that was begging for him already muscles pulsating and working themselves in preparation for him.

You whine, exposing yourself more for him as he shoves more of the handle into you the blade cutting his hand as he gripped it. His eyes narrow at you as he uses one of his hands to go to your lips. "Lick, slut. Show them how freaky MY girl is."

Well you were definitely going to be known for something on this platform.

Taking a moment to shared lock eyes it was enough to part your lips open for him to slip his long manly fingers into your mouth blood mixing with your saliva.

Such a delicious combination.

The two of you mixing so well.

Your moan grow louder in the room and with it not being soundproof, they only echoed.

Small spaced out dings could be heard as you both collected money from horny cocks. You were absolutely losing yourself to him once again as he continues with the handle before pulling it out.

"How cute...you've already creamed on it...this all for me doll?" he asks with a teasing tone as the handle shows hot white liquid over it. You nod frantically, whining while tears begin to build and threaten to fall from being teased and nothing more.

He was usually talkative during sex like his own words turn him on as well along with how your body responds to them.

He licks his lips slowly before sliding his tongue over the black cover of the knife, licking up your sweetness and swallowing it. He was quiet compared to you, he would not dare to make a single noise especially on camera. No. If anyone was going to be loud it was going to be you.

"You want my cock, sweetheart?" He asks, grabbing you and moving your body so once he fucks you he wouldn't be blocking the view. He gave the camera a side view and your face was now visible.

"Yes, daddy." you said respectively in a desperate tone, squeezing your thighs against him to trap him in your grip, but he just snickers grabbing some pink rope and quickly tightens your wrists together before stretching your arms over your head. "Beg." he says, taking his clothes off to reveal his overly sexy body.

Abs for days with prominent muscles and bones showing with his back and collarbones and oh fuck, his shoulder. He had a deep cut v line with a pretty thick dick that was around 7 inches.

What was enough to make you so full and slutty.

You hated when he did this because you could feel yourself growing shy but it was worse this time as there were eyes watching you. You look at him, silently sending him a message to just fuck you without saying anything. But he just smirks, leaning down to kiss your knee and to your thigh while making sure his dick teases your entrance.

You were in so much pain and all you could do was use your legs to touch him and nothing else. "P-p-please daddy.." you begin, making him tilt his head. "Please what? finish your sentence."

You swallow thickly, pressing your body against his trying to gain more of a chance for him to slip inside of you, but he pushes away. "Finish your sentence."

"Please daddy fuck me dumb like the stupid slut I am." you whine your cunt growing more and more wet and needy.

"Was that so hard?" he asks before ramming himself into you making you cry out in pleasure and some pain as he didn't let you adjust before continuing to thrust.

"This. This is my fucking cunt. I don't even have to pay for some lousy show with some fake ass moaning-" He growls, obviously sending a message to the remaining people.

"I own her. She's my little slut. My girl, to love, to hold, to FUCK! And guess what? I get it for free." He laughs seeing tears streak down to your cheeks.

"How pathetic that you only touch yourself, imagining how it would feel to be inside of her, well that's not enough." He grunts, grabbing his knife to make small cuts on your hips before leaning down to lick them up. Making some more cuts and spreads it around your stomach with his hand.

"She's my little freak." He only continued to get you bloodier and that was enough to make everyone leave.

He immediately pulls out making you kick your legs in a tantrum as he goes over and cuts the wires, disconnecting from everything and takes his time deleting your account. "I hope you learned your lesson." He says, eyeing you as you struggled to get the rope off your wrists watching as puts his pants back on and leaves the room.

Leaving you a bloody, horny, wet whore surrounded by toys and the memories of him using them on you. His scent all around. Everything in the room was his.

Including you.

[lightspeed-lightspeed-lightspeed]

How did it happen?

(Bucky barnes x Female reader)

A/n:  (Tw: cat. If you don't like cats gtfo of here) Although it is narrated in third person, the narration gravitates more around Bucky's pov (sorta). This is gonna be quite lousy so have fun, I guess.. If you can.

"How did this happen?" he whisper-sighed. "How? When?" He asked himself as he was staring into the distance, absent-mindedly stroking the white ball of fur curled up on his lap. Alpine let out a soft meow as if answering his soliloquies.

But for real though, how did he fall for you? The last he checked, you both were calling each other names out of contempt. Y/n y/l/n was simply insufferable, he always thought. Where did your acts of annoyance start blooming into everything he now yearns for?

As much as he would like to hide behind the idea that these sudden, irrational feelings hold no reason and meaning- how could he? How could he hide from what he knows? from what he realized? He could lie to himself all he wants- Hell, he had been lying to himself all this time, ignoring the wisps of light that marked the warnings through the pavements of this path he was sauntering down. He was walking into love and he refused to know it.

He wondered how different things would be now if he hadn't screwed up in your last mission and got you demoted to the archive library duty. Of course, jeopardizing a high stakes mission by starting a quarrel during field action is a grave mistake, but still Fury was being a little too extreme by suspending Y/n off the field for a month. Bucky didn't really believe that any of it was his fault, according to him it was you who were being your impossible self on the field that day. But he did feel sort of bad for you now. Maybe what Bucky shouldn't have done, was to try and make it up to you by spending time with you in that desolate library. Truth be told, it was partly an excuse for wanting to be around you.

There he was again, his thoughts lingering around you. Recounting the events of day before yesterday.

(  The  day  before  yesterday  )

"Did you find it?," Bucky's voice echoed through the aisles as he walked towards the base of the ladder you were perched on looking for an old file Bucky needed for his mission. "Not just yet," you mused.

The archives library was completely empty except for the two of you. The sound of his boots against the spotless vinyl flooring filled the room as he was pacing back and forth. Clack-tap,  Clack-tap,  Clack-tap,  Clack-tap.  He found the rhythm weirdly gratifying. And he could see you didn't. If something could get you to lose your cool, what's not to love?

"Quit pacing," you sighed, slightly annoyed. He started to stomp on even louder. Clack-tap, Clack-TAP, CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP.  Your breathing quivered with exasperation, as your shoulders hunched and fell in gliding motions. Just as gratifying, he thought looking at it.

"Quit pacing, Goddamnit!" You practically growled.

"No." He said, scrunching up a smile fighting it's way on his face. "What are you? obsessed? Mind your business," he shot smugly.

"You're making it really hard for me to, you moron," You muttered as he broke out into a grin. Annoying you practically counted as top-tier entertainment for him.

~

"C'mon man, do something," You cried.

"Do what?"

"Search for those godforsaken files, maybe. I honestly-"

"I am searching,"

"No, you're not." You huffed.

"I am, and I'm beginning to think the files are not in he-"

"Shhh" you cut him off. He shot you a questioning look.

"Don't you hear it?" you whisper-hissed.

"Hear what?" he asked as he reached for his weapons, falling into a defensive posture.

"There's somebody else in he-" before you could complete the sentence, you were screaming and everything was collapsing as you fell off the ladder yanking the racks down along with you, a daunting cacophony of heavy crashes and clamours deafening as you and Bucky were whipped by gravity, with absolutely no idea what is happening for a solid couple of moments.

"What the fuck just happened?" Bucky asked as he looked around, his pale blue eyes wide and gleaming with absolute confusion. The racks were all fallen, everything loosely covered with the papers lying around. The room had become a little darker. "I- um.." You started, "I... It was a cat.." you said frantically as you were still trying to shake yourself from the shock. "It was a what?" he asked incredulously. "A cat! I mean, It sort of jumped at my face, and I.. It sneaked up behind the rack... and I jumped and everything fell.. I guess..." You cringed at yourself. Bucky winced and looked around again and that's when he realized. You both were cornered against the inner edge of the wall. The racks had fallen in front of you into perfect forts, blocking your way out. He was practically stuffed against you into a crooked modicum of space. Your back was pressed against his chest, his leg pitted against yours. There wasn't a lot he could've done about that. He was trapped in there with you. But most importantly, he had never been this close to you.

His heart did parkours and cartwheels. He could only hope you don't feel how hard it was beating. Where were all these butterflies coming from? His breath hitched, he wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore, although it was the last concern on his dumb-foundedly racing mind. He could feel the softness of your hair against his neck, he'd be lying if he said that wasn't the softest, gentlest thing he has felt in about the past seven decades. It smelled like an orchard of flowers. He liked flowers. Although he couldn't tell what flower it smelled like, he knew it would've been his favourite flower. It calmed him down, that was, of course until his eyes looked down. He could see the stretch of your dangerously gorgeous collar bones sparkling in your sweat above your dress's boat-like neckline. His atheism breaking at the sight of that sculpted divinity, he couldn't help but pray, "God give me all the strength you can to keep me from kissing that work of art." The quantum leaps between the intervals of his heartbeats weren't helping either. Oh, at this moment, what he wouldn't give up to be the brittle golden necklace cascading from the graceful steeps and lows of your neck to the flesh over your heart. He held back not of strength, but because of fear.

As he was trying to fathom where all these thoughts were coming from, he was interrupted by you glazing your body against his body as you were striving to reach for a way out of the current situation. The way you groaned softly as you tried to reach for the other side of the rack-fort did things to him that he never would have expected. He was practically petrified. You gave up after a few moments, your head falling back against his ribs due to the impact. "Oof," he said his breath tickling your neck, cooling the sweat enough to send chills down your spine. "I'm sorry," you quivered in embarrassment. "So... there's no way out unless someone helps us out from the outside," you reported. He sighed in reply. He was way too nervous right now to speak in words.

~

"Are you claustrophobic or something?" you asked.

"What?"

"No, your heart has been racing real loud for quite some time now."

"I.. um.. small spaces do that to me,"

"Huh" you huffed.

You felt the coolness of his metal arm against the heated skin below the back of your neck, it was very soothing. He had laid the forearm carefully at a distance from you, and you couldn't help but wish he would wrap it around you. You could feel the vibrations of his vocal cord against your ear lobe as he talked. You were glad he couldn't see your face flushing at that.

Eventually he was able to relax, his heart slowing down. Although the situation was still quite awkward, he was not sure if he was complaining. That's when he heard footsteps. Someone was coming to their rescue. The footsteps grew louder, and there he was.

"Noah!" You exclaimed as he stood in front of you on the other side of the rack-fort. "Y/n! What's.. going on?" Noah asked as he looked at the mess. "Ah, we're trapped. Can you help us out of here?"

~~~

"Thank you," you smiled as he got them out of there with the help of the floor service. "How did you find us here?"

"We had a date, remember? You didn't show up so I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh my god, yes we did. All this happened and It totally slipped my mind. Thank god, we did though," you chuckled, looking around,    "Hey Barnes, This is Noah, he works in the communications department,"

"Hey, man" Noah greeted. Bucky gave him a half-nod and a mean look.

~

"You know, it's not exactly late. If you are up to it, we could still go grab some dinner," Noah said, giving you this innocent look that Bucky, for some reason, found revolting.

"Yeah? of course," You were all smiles.

Since when does y/n smile like that? What did she see in this guy? He doesn't even know the guy, so why does he hate him so much? He felt displeased with himself for staring at you and Noah, like, why did he even care now? Bucky had so many questions. The answer was walking out of the hall with somebody else, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was standing there in the once again empty library, lost in the middle of the bustling race track of his thoughts. That was when he felt something tugging at his legs, pulling him out of the maze he was being consumed by. He looked down at his little rescuer with fur as white as snow. "Hello there," He called, gentleness taking over his voice as he squatted down to pet the little cat that was rubbing its ears on his shoe straps. "Where did you come from, doll?" he giggled, scratching it's chin.

~ ( Today ) ~

"You were a no-show at the debriefing. Where were you yesterday?" You asked as you plopped down on the couch in the kitchen Island, your arm resting on the back pillow, turning your head back and looking at Bucky toying with the cutlery on the counter. "I.. was in my room," he said pushing back a stray lock of hair. "Coffee?"  "Yeah," you muttered.

As you turned your head you saw a little white cat hopping onto your lap.

"I found her in the library, you know, the other day.. after you left. Guess I'm her owner now, kind of," he said as he handed you the coffee.

"Aww, he made a friend!" You giggled as you scratched the back of the cat's ears. "Hello! Do you like that, you little troublemaker?" you chuckled as the cat warmed up to you with it's eyes closed.

Bucky was blushing like an idiot. You were not gonna lie, that shade of red made him look a little too cute.

"Has she got a name?"

"Yeah well, I named her Alpine. It's a good name, right?"

"Alpine!" you grinned, "It's a lovely name."

~~

"What?" He asked, as you gave him a surprised look after sipping your coffee.

"The coffee is actually good," You said.

"Why, you didn't think I could make good coffee?"

"No, in all these three years, you've brought me coffee like 4 times, 3 out of which you put salt in my coffee and the one time you messed up the sugar real bad. On purpose, I suppose," you accused.

"To be fair, you deserved it,"

"Ah, there it is," you said.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at you. Here he was, sitting on the couch beside you, getting high of sorts on how close he was to you. He had been craving for it ever since the archive library. He locked himself in his room all yesterday, convincing himself that what he felt towards you wasn't real, although it only made more sense despite his inability to believe it. And here you were now, recklessly playing with his heartstrings. The image of a rogue strand of your hair caressing your temple, and your eyes becoming a softer shade of (y/e/c) as the sunlight fell on them vaporized the levee he built around the feelings he never thought would see the light of day again.

As if breaking him out of his trance, you said, "Ah, I'd love to hang around with you guys, but I gotta go. I said I'll be meeting Noah in a couple minutes."

"Right," he could feel his heart dropping for a second.

"Alright then... bye!" You called, and walked out of the room, as he watched your hair swaying to your stride.

And here he was, on the couch, wondering about what just happened. Alpine half asleep on his lap as he unconsciously whispered, "How did this happen?"

~~~~

[marvels-writing-hoe]

Test of Time Part 3

Previous Chapter

A/N: Sorry this one took so long, I was almost done with it before someone shut my laptop without this having been saved and I lost all progress. 

Warnings: Cursing, fluff?, mention of death, almost nudity, Bucky’s PTSD(if you read between the lines)

Bucky Barnes x Y/n Odindottir

By the end of the battle with Tony and the others, you had managed to successfully avoid going head to head with your best friend several times before watching her run to the aid of Steve and Bucky. It pained you to watch him leave when you’d just found him, but you knew you had to in order for him to succeed. 

You scoffed at Tony’s attempt to put cuffs on you. 

“You Asgardians just don’t know how to stay out of trouble do you?” He asked, tightening the cuffs a little tighter than they should have been. He was pissed, and worried about Rhodes, understandably. 

“He’s innocent, Tony. He didn’t do anything.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you guys broke the rules. They were simple, Y/n. and you still ignored them,” 

“What would you have done, Stark?” He didn’t answer as you were shoved into the back of a high security transport vehicle, right next to Sam. 

“Don’t worry Y/n. I’m sure they’re half way there already. They’ll come out on top, just like they always do.” Sam reassured you, sending a glare in Tony’s direction. You held you’re head high, the way you’d seen Loki do when he stood trial for New York. An agent shut the doors, and you felt the vehicle begin moving. 

🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻

You spent three days in lock up before Steve showed up to free you and you all went your separate ways. 

“Tell me where he is.” You demanded of the super soldier. 

“He’s in Wakanda. T’challa agreed to help rid him of the winter soldier.” You didn’t stick around for any more explanation, instead calling on your most convenient form of travel. 

“Heimdall! Take me to Wakanda!” 

Appearing in the middle of a heavily shielded country in a blast of rainbow light didn’t exactly earn you subtlety, but it did gain you an audience with the king, just the man you needed to talk to. 

“I wish to see Bucky Barnes.” You gave a shallow bow to the king before speaking your request. 

“You’re friend awaits in my sister’s lab.” T’challa stood to lead the way. Upon reaching the lab, you instantly saw the gleam of a metal shoulder, the arm that should have been attached ripped away. 

“Y/n! You’re okay! I thought-” as soon as he saw you, Bucky was up, running to you. 

“I’m fine, Buck. Steve rescued us from the pit. Are you okay? What happened to you, your arm?” You fussed over him the same way you had in the 40′s when he’d come back from a battle cut up and bruised. 

“It’s a long story I’d rather not get into right now. But you, you’re a god? Why didn’t you tell us?” He put his hand on your shoulder, his thumb grazing the base of your neck. 

“I didn’t think you’d understand. besides, you guys had enough to deal with without your friend being a goddess. That’s why I was there. I’m-” He cut you off. 

“Still as beautiful as the day you left.” his voice grew soft, “God, I missed you so much, Doll.” There it was. That nickname that had made butterflies in your stomach since day one. He pulled you into another hug, as tight as he could make it with only one arm, and you knew you were home. 

🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻

Within a few days, T’challa had given the two of you a small two bedroom farm house and a few sheep to tend. The first day was great, you helped Bucky with the sheep before putting your room the way you wanted it, with pictures you’d taken over the last year hanging above your bed, and a painting done of Thor, Loki, and yourself when you were younger framed on your bedside table. 

That night, however was not as smooth. You’d gone to bed at a reasonable time, planning to wake early in the morning to prepare breakfast. Around midnight, you awoke to a scream and a thud. You threw yourself out of bed and rushed to Bucky’s room, knowing that the sound had come from there, not even bothering to put shorts on with the long, over sized, t-shirt and boy-shorts you’d worn to bed. 

“Bucky?” You knocked gently on the door, no answer. “Buck, is everything okay?” Still no answer. Growing ever more worried at the lack of response, you were about to knock again when the sound of shattering glass reverberated from the room. You shoved the door open and ran in to find that Bucky, who was laying in the floor, had become tangled in a lamp cord, pulled said lamp off the table, and was now struggling against the bonds of the tangled cord. 

You ran to the soldier, repeating his name to try to wake him

“Bucky, Bucky wake up, everything is okay, wake up,” you coaxed as you quickly realized he was having a nightmare. You said his name again, this time laying a gentle hand on his flesh shoulder. 

You squeaked when he suddenly sat up, bolt straight and his metal shoulder flexed as if trying to grab at something. 

“It’s me, everything is okay. We’re in Wakanda, they’re trying to help you,” you rambled trying to get him to calm down, even slightly. His eyes turned soft at the sound of your voice.  “Y/n, did I-” his voice fell in shame, “I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

“Oh, Bucky...” You rested your hand on his cheek, his growing stubble tickling a bit, “You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.” You pulled back a bit to show him you hadn’t been hurt before starting to untangle the lamp cord from his body. As you pulled the cord away from the sling that mostly covered his left shoulder, you suddenly became very aware of what he was wearing, which was nothing aside from his boxer briefs. You’re face went cherry red as you continued your task, avoiding eye contact with the very tan, very muscled, super soldier before you. He shivered, you’re cold hands a far cry from his hot skin. 

“Why you so cold, Doll?” You guessed he was trying to start conversation to distract his mind from whatever nightmare had plagued him. 

“I like it cold when I sleep. Gives me an excuse to curl up with fuzzy blankets.” You went along with his attempt. You pulled your hands away when you’d finished untangling the cord, the last of it falling to the floor. “Plus, when we were younger, and Loki was first learning magic, he would play pranks on me and turn my room cold at random times. Eventually I got used to it.” You smiled at the fond memories of your brother. 

“Do you ever miss them? You’re brothers I mean?” He asked you, already visibly relaxing from his nightmare. 

“Sometimes. Thor’s off on one of his adventures right now though. And Loki’s been-” you’re voice stumbled over your words, “He’s been dead for a while.” 

“When Steve woke me up, made me... aware of who I was, it hurt so much more than forgetting. Rebecca, and my mom- they were both gone. And then I remembered you, and I thought you were gone too. I never- I thought-” He paused, rethinking his sentence, “I didn’t know what to do with myself. I still don’t.” 

“But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.” You grabbed his hand, to prove to him that you were really there. He smiled, small, almost unnoticeable, but you saw it. 

You stifled a yawn, looking at the clock that sat in his bedside table. 12:33. 

“You must be exhausted, Doll. Get some sleep, I’ll be okay.” He pulled his hand away from yours to place it on your shoulder. 

“I’m not tired,” you yawned. He chuckled. 

“Go on. I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay... But you’ll wake me up if you need anything right?” 

“Of course, Doll.” 

“G’night, Bucky.” You kissed his cheek, standing to go to you’re room across the hall. 

“Night, Doll.” he coughed out, you thought it was odd, but you were also too tired to care, too tired to remember that the underwear you’d had on under your t-shirt had a not so PG message on them, and too tired to realize that previously mentioned t-shirt had ridden up and Bucky had a full view of your ass- and the message- as you left his room. 

Next Chapter

[unholyplumpprincess]

Fucktoy

Commission long overdue for the lovely @ago-fucks featuring Revenant/Reader and a certain sex toy that’s a craze with all the cool kids out there.

Fleshlights, I’m talking fleshlights.

Summary: Revenant is best when he's tied up and begging, at least that's what you think. Or. In which you buy a new toy for your murder robot boyfriend and you get to test it out in the best ways involving bondage, begging, and getting to hear him say things no one else would get to hear.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, bondage, praise, mild degradation, reader is gender neutral and has a vulva and is specifically written as short and chubby, lots of Rev/Robot headcanons happening in here, wireplay, lingerie (on reader), Revenant has a cock attachment

Words: 3.2k

__________________

A little surprise was needed every now and again, you thought.  

Revenant had been doing so well lately getting adjusted to this period in his life. In the arena, he was a menace to be seen, snarling and growling, shedding blood and laughing about it like it was his favorite thing. But, at home, sure he still snarled and growled- it was in his voice box to do so after all, but it was more of a grumble as he accepted your eager hands to drag him down to your much shorter height to press a kiss to his face plate and welcome him home.  

Like a feral cat, he’d had to warm up to you. You were one of the Apex Games medical experts when they arrived injured. Specializing in mechanics and secondly in human flesh, you were hired to work mostly on Pathfinder, and then of course when he joined, Revenant. Special repairs were to be had for each model, and oh did Revenant not like anyone touching him. You had made it clear that consent was strict.  

You would not touch him, unless he was comfortable with you doing so.  

~Rest under the cut~

Perhaps that had made him warm up to you quicker, with giving him the choice so he could have control on the situation. He’d grumbled the first time, but he’d let you patch him up at least, and then the second time had snarled he didn’t need your help before begrudgingly leaning to the side to show where a cord might have torn.  

And to present relationship? Now he cuddled up to you like an affection starved feline. Perhaps feline wasn’t a good word for him, maybe an arachnid with how his long, spidery limbs wound around you. Revenant had grumbled the first time that he hadn’t powered down in centuries, quite literally. Because he didn’t really know he could. But after some research on simulacrum, you found he had the ability to and now one of his favorite things was joining you in bed.  

So now? Now you were both looking on your laptop for new toys. You’d wanted to find something to accommodate his preferred attachment lately of a cock, since dildos and strap  ons  wouldn’t work with said attachment. Vibrators did pretty well, but you wanted something more...hands on.  

“What about one of these?” You had asked, offering the fleshlight section of the site. You’d been able to watch him hum curiously, his optics spinning as he admired the choices. Before he’d asked to see them in use. Which required looking up videos to give examples and being able to see him eagerly ask you to go back so he could pick one.  

With that out of the way, you placed one in the cart and waited for him to power down for the night before you’d snuck your phone and placed another thing in for yourself and ordered it express. Carefully maneuvering yourself back into his eager arms.  

Then it had been the desperate waiting game.  

The box arrives at your apartment’s doorstep discreetly packaged. You know Revenant is getting ready for a match so you text him eagerly from your holopad to let him know that his gift is here, and asking if he of course wants to try it out tonight. You bite your lip after you hit send, eagerness through your chest as you take to picking up around your home to ignore your own giddy feelings. You had today off, and probably good you did anyhow considering how excited your face must have been.  

It would be hours before he replied, but once you finally get that notification for his text, the sun has already started to set. You’d been tuned into the games, watching the cameras pick up on his victory with Bloodhound and Caustic at his side. Curled up on the corner of the couch and able to watch him nail Octane between his goggle’s lenses with a peacekeeper. Gory, perhaps, but you were a medical and mechanical professional, you’d seen worse.  

A solid, three burst knock makes you perk up. You’d been comfortable at home in some shorts and a hoodie, nothing special nor nothing you couldn’t answer the door in. You swing off the couch, padding across the floor and open it wide open to smile up at the bot at the door.  

“Hi, baby, saw your win! Congratulations on being champion!” You practically coo your praise to him, stepping by to let him in as you shut and lock the door behind you. Revenant lets his optics wander the apartment, cleaned and picked up, before finally looking downwards at you. He was already tall enough, but you were short by nature, meaning your head met about his chest plate. He’d always thought it was cute.  

Eagerly, you reach up for him, making a ‘gimme’ motion until he relents and leans down, letting you cup his face plate and peck a kiss on his silicone lower lip. “No scratches on you? I know I wasn’t there today; Theodore should have had you covered.” You murmur the last bit, releasing him so you could circle him like the worried partner you were.  

Revenant huffs in return, optics rolling, “Is that his name? I didn’t ask. You know very well no one can fix me as well as you can.” His voice growls in a low grumble, but you definitely take that last part as a compliment. It’s definitely worth it when you beam up at him from his side, lifting his arm briefly to check for the damages done to inner circuiting. The smallest brush of your fingers against the thick wirings of his right hip makes him make a soft noise, causing you to immediately retract and for him to be disappointed. Not that he’d show it.  

“You can’t be picky if you’re damaged,” You remind him, moving to in front of him with your arms crossed, watching him mimic your stance as he goes to sass you again but you’re quick on him, “And don’t you say it’s because I know better, he has just as many qualifications as me. You just like me.” Your voice is a tease, a smile on your face he can’t be mad at.  

It’s a slow walk to you room as you talk idly amongst yourselves. But as you make it to the bed, you pipe up quietly. “You still want to try, right? You know I’ve never minded if you don’t want to, I’d love you no less.” With a gentle hand to the curve of the metal at his hip and your eyes flicking up to search his optics for tension. Revenant had been...skittish when it came to sex, his biggest fear had been that he’d hurt you. Nowadays it was a way to be intimate, but you still felt the need to triple check just in case he wasn’t feeling up to it.  

He lets out a snort, a sort of choked growl in his voice box to mimic the sound. A hand over yours settles your nerves with his voice rumbling, “Yes. I picked the damned thing after all. Besides I,” He pauses there for a moment, seeming to struggle before he lets out in a softer tone, bringing your hand up to his face plate so he could mimic a kiss to your knuckles. “I enjoy our intimate time together. Or whatever frilly way you want me to say ‘fuck’.”  

It eases the tension in your body, a laugh choking from you as you move the hand brought to his face to cup his face plate, running your thumb on his silicone lower lip. Revenant’s optics flicker to the bed, clearly curious as to where you HAD said toy. But, your grin must answer his question, “Get comfortable on the bed and I’ll go get ready. Remember your safe words and signals?”  

It’s with a soft huff Revenant does as told. Red, yellow, and green were always easy to remember. The hand signals were simple enough, depending on what was hindered. Two slaps to any nearby object or two slams of his foot were silent ways to say stop.   

You wait for him patiently, reminding him of what a good boy he is and leaving the room to let him undoubtedly get his attachment on. As well as to sneak into the bathroom to find the freshly cleaned toy, rope you’d had lain out, and your outfit of choice.  

Your body was always on the plumper side, but you didn’t have an issue with it- neither did Revenant at that. Your lovely body is dressed in a dark blue, lace baby doll night gown. The night gown part was split right beneath your chest with a lovely little bow, splaying across your sides and ending at the swells of your thighs. Scalloped straps pulled up over your shoulders, letting your plentiful cleavage be shown. The panties were a matching thong, with thigh highs to boot.  

Perfect.  

When you walk back out into the bedroom, Revenant’s reaction is almost feral. The way the static in his voice box goes lower with the low growl he lets out, his optics seeming to spin in almost a bird-like fashion with how darker orange fills the space and then  thins  out. It makes you feel...wanted.  

“Down boy,” You playfully coo, letting your thumb slide across the rope in one hand to ground yourself and remind yourself who was in charge tonight. Especially when he growls again, his attachment clearly hard with the nodes on the sides lit up a bright red. “Remember who you belong to tonight.” You remind him.  

But, God, does his cock look delicious. A black thick silicone with red textured mini spikes lining the sides as well as lit up nodes curling up to the head. Five inches long with a  three-inch  girth, it was plenty to take, Revenant always liked to watch your face contort trying to take him, but tonight you weren’t going to be taking him. No, no, you were going to make him cry with a toy and make him beg to have you.  

The next steps are simple. Tying him up. The rope goes easily across metal, tying carefully between joints and pressing kisses where they meet. You tie him on his back, wrists to ankles and forcing his long legs up and apart with his wrists. Bound and exposed, his legs stay open and high, bent at the knee comfortably without it being too complicated. You praise him all during it, soft kisses on his ankles and wrists as you duck to the side to grab the toy and settle back in front of him.  

The wiring on his inner thighs is always a go to so you start there. Caressing the thin wires that connect the joints to a thick metal core. He immediately tenses, mouth falling open to reveal sharp metal teeth and the way his throat echoes like a long hallway when he groans. You smirk a bit, tracing your fingers up closer to his hip where a thicker bundle of wires rest, letting him shake briefly as your nails trace up the inner silicone lining to form a hip bone.  

His cock jerks with a gentle grunt in his throat. His cum reserves must have been full, considering a small bead of translucent red cum drips down his cock.  

“What a good boy. Already filled without even being asked?” You begin small, letting your hands wander down his hips to the center of your attention. His hips attempt to come up to no avail in his exposed position, allowing you to trace one nail up his cock and watching it jerk again weakly. “You must have been thinking about this all day.”  

The response to you is a weakened growl, a reverberating sound as if he was in a cave that trails off into a breathy, high sound. It doesn’t sound human, no surprise there, but it does make you grin.  

A few pumps and he’s set on throwing his head back to huff to himself in pleasure. Revenant was always sensitive, had always been, you imagined centuries of no touch would do that to you. But, even now, it seems he’d be flushed all over if he could. He’d probably be fucking your fist at this rate if he could even move them, poor thing.  

It’s not much more teasing before you glide the lubed fleshlight up the underside of his cock. Letting the faux lower lips frame him and sliding it up to the head. His hips twitch, his head jerking to the side and exposing the sensitive wirings of his throat with the shift of his cowl.  

The wet slide of it on his cock is a tight, tight fit. Something that you can only imagine as your greedy eyes take in the crimson toy swallowing his thick shaft with a wet ‘shlick’ as it tightly envelops him. You can feel the way he jerks in it, watching the tips of his fingers curl against his ankles and his optics flickering a few times before seeming to buzz back to existence.  

“Fuck-” He whines out, a shaky sound in his chest that sounds distant with the way his head rolls to the side and causes his wiring to shift for his voice box. “Fuck-- ” He croaks out again with a creak to his throat as you begin to shift the toy upwards to the head and slide it back down.  

“That’s a good boy, that’s what I like to hear,” You praise him, feeling yourself affected as well as your breathing as you begin fucking the toy on him. Each wet slide is met with a wet, soft slap of the toy hitting his pelvis. The creak of the metal of his joints and how he whines and growls in soft, panted, breathless little noises. You about take him out when you twist the toy and slam it back down onto him, hearing him yowl much like an animal in heat.  

“So pretty for me,” You continue with your own voice breathless, “So easy to make you feel good, my little toy.” You use the name carefully, eyes flickering to his face to gauge his reaction.  

It’s positive, to say the least, where his head flings back and you know he’d be fucking into your grip if he could. Instead, he’s made to squirm and jerk in his bonds, panting heavily as you stroke him with the tight, wet little toy again and again.  

“You sound beautiful, baby.” You murmur.  

Just to watch him cry out and give the telltale signs he’s close. With low whines in his throat fading off to low, breathed out growls. Huffing and huffing until-  

You stop.  

And Revenant cries out like a wounded beast. Optics flickering until they land on you and he snarls like you’ve deprived him of his treat. You imagine he doesn’t like it when you smile, holding the fleshlight juuuust  about the tip of his cock where he’s leaking the translucent fluid, shiny and wet from the toy and oh so wanting.  

“Give. It. To. Me.” He snarls out each word like a threat. But kind of hard to be threatening with your dick so hard and you’re an exposed simulacrum tied up in pretty ropes.  

“I want to hear you beg,” You grin in turn, tilting your head coyly when he snarls again. “I want to hear you say you’re my cutest fuck toy.”  

“No.”  

“I wasn’t asking.”  

Revenant scoffs before he pauses at your tone, tempting and low. His optics shift away briefly. Embarrassment would be hard to see in someone like him, but you can tell from the silence and the way he’s breathing despite not needing to. He had his safe words, he had his signals, but you have the feeling he’s not even thinking about those. Instead, you can see him trying not to be humiliated. So, you give him a little encouragement with a rub of the toy just to watch him shudder.  

That sparks his brattiness. He tries to buck up to no avail, tries to roll and shake and hump, for not.   

When that doesn’t work, he tries again, but adds in, “Please let me cum! Let me cum, goddamnit! Goddamn you- let me- let me cum!” He sounds so cute when he does it, desperate and wanting. You give him some slack, one pump of the toy just to get his hopes up and to hear him moan with static tracing the edges only to hold it just above the head again.  

“Fuck!” He snarls, desperation dripping in his tone in an almost sob. Almost.  

Your hand comes up, gripping his throat and pressing your thumb into the junction of his two thickest wires. A small amount of pressure on the thinner one makes him feel like he’s going to get light headed, a well pressed pressure point as you growl at him and begin jerking him with the toy in a nice, but not enough pace.  

“You’re my favorite, cutest fuck toy. Say. It.” You punctuate each word with a harsh slam of the toy twice before holding it at the head. No matter how much he cries out and swears, you don’t move, letting his voice creak and crack until you release the wiring.  

“I’m your cute-cutest fuck toy! I’m y-your- AH!” Revenant near about wails it out, only to choke when you begin fucking him with the toy earnestly. Letting his breaths come out in repeated, short snarls until he’s cumming with a long sound fading off into nothing.  

The cum drips from the end of the toy into your hand. You give it a few more jerks for good measure, just to watch him jerk and huff in overstimulation before you slowly drag it off with a wet noise. You set it on the nightstand, telling yourself to deal with it later as you work the ropes off of him and set them to the side.  

You lie down on your back, letting him come to you like a clingy little spider. One arm  wraps  around your middle, his head coming to rest on your chest as you cup the back of his neck and stroke the metal forming his spine. You  caress  him gently, gently nudging him for him to look up at you so you can kiss the flatness of his skeletal nose and smile at him.  

“You did a good job, baby.” You murmur adoringly, kissing the corner of his mouth to match. “Thank you for indulging me. You feeling alright?”  

“Just peachy.” His voice comes out as a hoarse growl, no doubt overusing his poor voice box. But even then, it makes you laugh, kissing his forehead once again.  

“What about you?” He murmurs after a moment, his finger hooking into the thin waistband of your panties and making your cheeks flush. “Would be a damn shame to not put any of this to use...”  

“Bold for someone who just said he was my fuck toy.” You cheekily toy back, watching his head snap up and his optics widening and thinning out in a quiet threat.  

You’d pay for it later, but for now? For now he just grumbles, shoving his head back onto your chest.  

Good boy.  

[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

Yandere googlepliers x chubby reader

An:I went really experimental with formatting, because I was really inspired by Winter girls by Laurie Halse Anderson, the author of speak. Anyway, this is a repost because tumblr ate up the original post. I plan to post fan fics more often now that I have a laptop, so if you like my writing, requests are open! :D

Chaos. So much burning.

Smoldering, smoky buildings, streets covered in bloody corpses. A woman's head twisted at an odd angle, her eyes ice cubes as they stared at you, her mouth opened into a frozen scream.

Walking down the road, you shuddered, holding yourself, almost as if trying not to fall apart.

Your foot steps echoed, bouncing off alleyways and jagged skyscrapers, whose metal interiors now exposed, reminded you of broken bones. Blood littered the streets like bright red watercolor, while organs, scattered like rose petals and party streamers, lay exposed on grey sidewalks and hung from lamp posts.

Gagging, your breathing grew heavier as you turned a corner, seeing a baby's head hanging  by its spinal cord like a twisted piñata from a store front, it's eyeball clinging onto a pink string as it dangled from its eye socket. Oh.. oh.. oh god.

No, no, your boys— couldn't.. couldn't do this! You ran past the store, and ran past an apartment building. You ran past an alleyway, a library, caught in the maze. Trapped like a rat. Turning left and right frantically.

They couldn't do this. They couldn't do this.

They changed, they changed.

You kept passing dead bodies. The smell of burning metal and flesh haunted the air. The streets covered in a blanket of broken glass, and the buildings that remained intact almost had all broken windows and doors. Cars had been turned upside down and squashed like a wads of construction paper.

Everything silent. Except for the eerie and distant noise of sirens, echoing throughout the city. You didn't notice at first. Too caught up in the violence. Now, you heard them, and ran towards them.

Your boys couldn't do this.

The boys who loved blue and green and red and yellow. Whose colors always reminded you of wildflowers.

They couldn't.

Prime, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Oliver, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Rowan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this. Conan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Running, you turned a corner, getting closer to the noise.

Where was everybody? Could they really murder an entire population? They couldn't— could they?

Desperate, you pushed yourself faster. You passed a man with his chest gouged out. Someone had their hands torn off and stuck up their— you wished you hadn't seen that. A girl lay crumpled on the side walk, her pigtails pulled off, and her face smashed in.

Too many bodies to count. All of them, chopped up like vegetables, and torn up like dolls in the jaws of a dog. So much violence. So much destruction.

The sirens screamed for you to keep running. Why did you stop, they asked. You hadn't even noticed you stopped, until you heard your breathing, and felt you legs shaking like plates stacked too high, your whole body ready to break.

You stopped right in front of the little girl, staring at her carnage.

   You caused this.

You gave them admin permission, or whatever it was called— you gave them autonomy! And they waited, they waited and bid time and gained your trust, waited till you loved them, till you let your guard down. Then, like a viper, they bit.

Sinking to your knees, the sirens faded as your breathing increased, filling your ears.

You touched the body, it was stiff, cold. The skin was an odd color, and maggots crawled in every crevice— in her nose, where they twisted, a hive feasting on her flesh. How long had she been here? How long had they all been here? You looked around, and touched her again, squeezing her arm. It wouldn't move. Rigor mortis. Then, you went down, and squeezed her leg. The whole body stiff. Every inch.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized— these bodies had been here for around six hours. Yes, you remembered, rigor completely set in after six hours.. why did you know that? Some class from high school? A book? A documentary?

Panic set in more as you got up, and staggered towards the noise.

    They couldn't do this.

Prime, who loved technology and loved to study space, couldn't do this. Oliver, who loved to study psychology and how humans worked couldn't do this. Rowan, who read so many books, going through them in hours, couldn't do this. Conan, who loved to study biology and evolution couldn't do this.

Your boys, your loves, couldn't do this.

 They couldn't.          They couldn't.                         They couldn't.

                               They couldn't.

Your shoulders shook as you entered the center of town, full of cafés, bookshops, tea shops, and cute ritzy restaurants all covered in dried blood. People lay dead on chairs, and some held books, others held shopping bags, or cell phones.. all of them stopped. Frozen in time. Like a clock who's gears got stopped up with ice.

The sirens loomed closer, and, taking another glance at the bodies, you continued walking. You passed a green and white bookstore, you took a turn down a street, full of bodies, bodies stuffed together like sardines. So much blood. Blood the color of rust and bricks. It scattered everywhere. Everywhere, every street sign and store front. No one was spared.

You continued further, legs shaking, throat dry.

The sirens screamed louder. Bursting like red and blue fireworks in your ears.

You saw the police cars, white covered in scarlet, in dead bodies.

So many.

Heads twisted, noses punched in, stomachs full of holes.

You couldn't call out their names, you couldn't. They scared you too much. Each name a monster, shadows that cut.

        Your boys couldn't have done this.

Shakily, walking closer to the carnage, you leaned on a police car, panicking. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked slowly. Corpses bleeding into your eyes as you heard the buzzing of flies.

You screamed.

You collapsed.

More bodies.

Corpses piled up in a heap, you saw your boys, dragging the corpses, like stiff statues, across the pavement.

They turned towards you, eyes wide as they dropped bodies. "Darling?" Asked Oliver, yellow as a sunflower, and soft as one as he stepped towards you.

Your hands wouldn't stop. Your arms wouldn't stop. Everything kept shaking. Your whole body felt like an avalanche. Like it was tumbling and full of rocks and snow.

"Oh, sweetheart.." Whispered Rowan, red like a rose, "You weren't supposed to see. I made sure to put enough pills in your drink."

You   couldn't    breathe. Breaths. came in short. gasps.     Air barely leaked.                   In— Lungs—     couldn't.

Collect air.

Everything.                Heavy. Lungs full of frozen snow,            heavy with grey rocks, frozen over with icicles.           Blood invaded by ice crystals.  Heart covered with frost.     Paralyzed.

They approached you, surrounding you. Oliver leaned down, blood covering his hands as you started to cry, howling. "Oh, oh, shh, shh, it's alright." He wrapped his arms around your waist, comforting you like a kitten.

The boys did the same, Conan, green like spring, began petting your hair gently, while Prime, blue as the sea, kissed your cheek. Rowan, hugged you from behind, and the two other brothers hugged you from the sides. All of them warm.

"It's alright.. it's alright— they're all gone now, little one, and can't hurt you." His warm voice l crawled into your ears. You said nothing, your stomach curling into a twisted iron knot.

Tears poured down like rain in the middle of a blizzard. You couldn't control the sobs and screams. You smelt the blood on them, hot copper. Your heart beat ferociously in your chest, shuddering from the cold that invaded your body.

Oliver lifted your chin, tears streaming down your face, "It's okay. It's alright. All you need is us."

The others echoed back, "All you need is us."

Your heart clenched.

The bright flickering lights of memories came.

Blue burst in your mind.

You and Prime watching a space documentary, his eyes widening as the camera zoomed across the solar system— like an arm, reaching, reaching, reaching towards space. The lens retracted, going further and further away. The milky way bloomed before your eyes, the galaxy blossomed into Christmas lights and swirls, everything expanded. Stopped. Then, in a flash, a dash, the colors swirled into lines, zooming back to earth.

Blue faded into red.

Rowan shyly smelling roses when he thought you weren't looking, sitting at the table and fingering the scarlet fish scales of velvet petals. His smile like a rose, too, slowly blooming underneath the sunset that sailed through the window. His skin shining with tangerine and goldfish rays, you remembered him smelling like roses, and the next day, you planted a rose bush in your backyard.

Red ran into yellow.

Oliver smiling at you, in the afternoon. His hand reaching towards yours, his fingers warm, comforting. His hand so much bigger than yours; yours covered in lines and scars, his clean and pristine, like a piece of computer paper. Your lips saying how do you do as you kissed his fingers, and his smile like a ball of sunshine, as his lips replied I'm doing wonderful, by touching yours. He tasted like lemonade. You kissed underneath the swing set that hung from the grand oak in your backyard.

Yellow flipped into green.

Conan letting your head rest on his shoulder. A biology book in his lap, it was about— sloths. Those fuzzy three toed creatures. You remember saying, "Did you know sloths.. used to live under water?" He turned towards you, his eyes like the woods, stacked with trees and leaves, deep and dark, untrusting and full of secret wonders. He blinked in surprise, his eyes wide and lips turned down slightly. "Don't act like a know it all. That's not true." You frowned, and told him to look it up, he did. You were right. You smirked, you knew a lot. Just as you were about to continue, he asked what else you knew. The two of you talked about biology the rest of the night and evolution until morning. Plants and animals blooming into the living room as the sun rose.

All the colors dropped down your mind, and splashed down into a single memory—

All of you in the new bed you bought, surrounded by comfy pillows. You heard them humming. The sound of their insides working. Everything warm. Safe. You nuzzled into Prime's neck, since he's always the warmest because he's the oldest and tends to get hotter than the others. Everything felt safe. Perfect, covered in the moonlight. Hazy snores came from Conan, who always snores, because he sleeps with his mouth open. Rowan's breath on your neck, a soft nuzzle into your cheek, Oliver resting on his brother's chest, holding your hand.

You realized that night that love isn't one color, it's a burst of colors— Blue and Red and Green and Yellow. It's the color of wild sunflowers and a kitchen filled with cups from the 70s, it's the music of soft breathing and the feeling of your cheek warmed by another, it's a quivering river full of enchanted hues.

The memory slipped down, became a drop of multicolored paint, and splashed on the white floor of your mind.

So many memories— too many memories.

Your eyes watered again as you looked up at them.

"Wh-why?" You whispered. "You don't need to worry about that." A blue voice said, robotic and stiff. "It is— well, was our primary objective." "But— But— I thought, I thought maybe.. maybe you didn't care about that anymore..." you whispered, your shoulders sagging as you burrowed back into Oliver's chest, closing your eyes, "...Maybe you wouldn't care about destroying humanity because you didn't need to. You had me— wasn't that enough? Just the all of us? Together? What— what did everyone else matter?" You asked, taking a shaky breath, "And now what? What? Your Primary objective is complete and you probably don't need me anymore, because wasn't your primary objective to destroy all of humanity? Don't I count? I don't understand at all. I don't know..." your voice faded, "..I don't know— I don't. I— I don't know. I just— why? Why did it have to be so much violence? Why? Why did you have to hurt all those people? What did they do?"

You wanted to melt into the earth and never come back. You could smell the scent of rotting flesh, and the smell of it as it burned in the big pile, smoke starting to fill the sky. "We would never hurt you." Your questions didn't get an answer, as Rowan spoke, "We love you— you taught us to love." He whispered, "And, we had to protect you from.. from.. them." He spat, voice filled sharp red knives. "They were nothing like you. All they did was take up space." Said Conan, his voice seething acid, "All they did was hurt you. Why shouldn't they feel the same pain they caused you?" "N-not everybody hurt me.." you whispered, voice as soft and fragile as melting snow. "Knowing humans, they would have. Look what they already did to you— all those mean words and comments, isn't it better that they're gone? Now," he gripped your chin, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he turned you towards him, "It's just us."

They echoed back, voices a mixture of color, "Just us."

Colors plopped and sizzled in your mind, like an egg dropped into a hot skillet. Your own color lost somewhere— what color were you, anyway? Red or Blue or Green or Yellow or Purple or Nothing? White? Blank? Your memories have always been covered in white, and tasted like cigarette smoke and the smell of old rotting houses.

Then, they came, all of them, bringing color. Bringing so much color— But could they bring color to the outline of a memory that crossed your mind?

No.

A blank wall, Curtains drawn. The music turned up. Books scattered left and right. Everywhere. A tornado hit your room, and the tornado was you. You, you caused distraction everywhere you went. Blobs of paint pounded at the door of the blank canvas of your room, asking what was wrong. All you did, was rip. Rip the pages of the books, become an outline. You had always been an outline, You just— Forgot. Outline kept ripping up pages of books, saying how stupid outline was. Outline knew outline was stupid. Stupid outline, everyone was right. No one would want to hire outline. Outline got a job, outline got comments about weight, outline snitched.

Outline got fired.

Outline forgot they had been lines, and only lines, all along.

Outline forgot what white was, became filled with cyan skies, poppies, sunshine and grass. Outline got filled with yellow courage and red passion and blue happiness and green kindness.

They want you. The memory changed shape. They want you. Or, at least, that's what they said, when you cried.  Sobbing, curled up on the floor, they told you they wanted you. They told you  everything was going to be alright.

One of them had picked you up, taken you to the couch, while the others offered to make you cookies, or tea, or anything you wanted. Sniffing as someone wrapped you up in a blanket, you asked softly for hot cocoa, with cinnamon.

A flash of red gave you a cup, the color of a robin's egg, filled with hot cocoa. He sat next to you, and somehow, you ended up in Prime's lap, sniffing. "I'm so bad." You said. "Why?" "I should've just kept my mouth shut.Everyone likes me better that way."

Then, you felt hands, the hands of your mind stretching down, clear as crystal, distorting the world as they ascended upon your mouth. "Well, I like it better when you talk." It was Conan, standing in front of you, hands on his hips, "And unlike other humans, you aren't annoying." You laughed a bit, sniffed again, and took a sip of the hot cocoa. The hands shattered just as quickly as they came.

The air rippled and chirped, purring with happiness and warmth as you snuggled further into the fluffy blanket. "Yeah.." whispered Rowan, "And unlike other humans, I quite like your voice." Another smile from you, Conan sat down next to Prime, and immediately snatched you into his lap.

Prime turned, "Excuse you?" You laughed again, a tinkle of golden bells, and he let it go. Snuggling into his chest, you smelt his shirt, which smelled like books. Mostly the new book smell, but it also smelled of chemicals, and preservatives, because of the experiments he often conducted. It also smelled a bit metallic, yet human. They all had that in between smell of metal and.. natural musk? It was often how you recognized them, by how they smelled, and their heights too.

Everyone snuggled on the couch, and you felt yourself getting sleepy as you kept drinking. You noticed the humming increasing, the whirring of fans filling your ears like a lullaby as you slept.

"..We care so much. That's why I put that pill in your drink. It's part of the plan— you weren't supposed to wake up." Rowan's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, "We—" "—We weren't originally going to do it." Whispered Oliver, "Because we didn't care anymore." "Until they hurt you." Hissed Conan, "And nobody hurts you. Nobody. We got rid of them. It's only us now. Only us."

Their voices echoed slightly as they repeated, "Only us."

You looked into Conan's eyes, then Oliver's, then Rowan's, then Prime's.

    They loved you.

    They all realized it when you got sick. Oliver realized it when he found you over the toilet, a hand on your sweaty forehead as you retched, gagging and pushing your hair aside.

Rowan realized it when he saw you in bed, with a fever, when he got so afraid you'd die, and held your hand, crying.

Conan realized it when you tried to stumble out of bed, saying you had to work on a research paper, because that's how the bills got paid.

Prime realized it when he felt relief after you got better, when he saw you slowly walk into the kitchen, sit down at the table, and eat a bowl of cereal. You hadn't eaten in three days.

From you, they learned about love. It tamed people, it tamed animals, it made things stay, even if it was just for a moment. Love, is like a dandelion, it grows and then contracts, then spreads into the wind, growing more. Love, is like the moon, waxing and waning, always coming back. Love, is like the sun, like warmth, it always comes back, but it blooms in a different color than before, and dies only to rise again.

You taught them that.

A human, small and weak, who spent too much time in doors reading books— any books, but they could be picky sometimes— tamed them, made them ask if the world was really all choked up with smoke.

They found out it was. That the world is always on fire, always combusting, it never rests and let's itself regrow again.

You, you're the small island surrounded by a pond in the middle of the burning woods. Always treating them with kindness, saying "please" and "thank you" and "I'm sorry" constantly. You always asked if they want to spend time with you, and of course they do— always, always and forever.

When they saw you yesterday night, so sad and broken, Prime picked you up, and immediately the others put the plan into action.

They had incorporated you into doomsday, deciding that your house was the safest, since it was far from town. (You walked all the way here, poor thing, they thought.) When you fell asleep, they tucked you into bed, turned off the lights and locked the advanced security system. You beat it anyway. (Did you worry about them? That was so like you— always worrying.)

Prime rested his head on top of yours, and then got up. His brothers frowned, their arms still reaching for you.

They all wanted to hold you, to keep you close.

Slowly, you reached out for Rowan, since Prime wasn't carrying you right. You smiled, forgetting it all for a moment.

The air wasn't filled with smoke. It didn't smell of burning hair.

Only they mattered, Their colors, their eyes, their smell. Only they mattered.

He gently took you from his brother, and cradled you. You could see the blood. You could smell it.

You buried yourself into his neck, wrapping your arms around him, smelling roses. He always smelt like roses, because he built a green house once summer started to end. Rose petals always lingered in his hair, pink, red and white, scattered amongst the locks. He grew all kinds of roses now, he loved them dearly.

You loved him dearly— all of them. That's why everything kept coming and going, bursts of color fading into ice, starting to burn and decay.

You burrowed deeper into his neck as he walked down the road. Tears fell out of your eyes, as you heard the sirens die out. "It's alright now.." he whispered, hugging you close, "It's alright. We'll be out soon." He murmured, kissing your cheek.

The city echoed with their foot steps and your sobs.

Another kiss landed on your cheek, and another and another.

Looking up at him, you noticed that everyone stopped, surrounding the both of you. A tear leaked from your eye, and quickly it was kissed away by Prime.

At the edge of the city, you looked at all the bodies— all those people gone, just like that. Did they really do that, all for you?

Should you be proud? Should you be ashamed?

Whirlwinds swirled in your stomach as you looked at your boys. Your lovers.

Yours.

You needed them just as much as they needed you, or, you wanted them just as much as they wanted you— or, both. Biting your lip, you felt another kiss on your cheek, Oliver.

Then, another one on your other cheek, Conan. Then, one on your lips, as Rowan kissed you.

You didn't need the world. All you needed was them.

Smiling, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, and burrowed into his warm skin, closing your eyes, putting a shutter over the images that flashed through your mind—

A bloodied hand, An old grandmother with a stab wound— The piles of bodies The blood. The blood.

You buried yourself deeper into his neck, trying not to cry. Rowan felt so comforting, and warm, he felt so safe, like a blanket wrapped around you when least expected, that comforted you even though you shivered.

Rowan smiled and kissed your head as he walked down the road, as Prime watched you from the corner of his eye, and listened to the world around them. Conan scanned the nearby woods, shooting at whatever animals came in his (or your) direction. Oliver walked next to Rowan, with Conan by his side, watching you.

They didn't need anyone else. Didn't you know what they were before you?

Outlines, white spaces, no color, ready to serve their objectives, but you— you.. brought out something, in each.

They didn't need the other colors, they only needed you, you and your bright cherry, blueberry, green apple and banana colored personality, that glittered and gurgled through the ocean of darkness.

You're the most important objective of all, didn't you know that, little human?

All they need is you. Only you, nothing else.

The world could burn, for all they cared, and it did— they burned it, all for you. All for you.

They continued walking as the world descended into night, like a bird falling through the air, and shedding feathers, only to reveal new ones made of violet petals and the noise of crickets.

Didn't you know, little human, thought Oliver, that once you started loving them with all of your human heart, that you bound yourself to them forever?

No, no you didn't.

Oliver reached over suddenly, and took you from his brother's arms, carrying you instead as they continued walking, the world awfully silent— full of no one, not a single human in existence—

Except you, of course.

The world is safe, now that every human is dead, it took a while to do it, but they did. The pill lasted for three days, and that's what all it took for them to kill all the humans. They started outside, and slowly went in, reaching your town last. And now, now you're safe, safe from all the hardships and stabbing words. Safe, safe at last.

Oliver felt you nuzzle into his shoulder and sigh contently, falling asleep.

He fell in love with you because of kindness, you're always so kind. Always. He knew his brothers fell for it too. He remembered when you came home, crying, and locked yourself up in your room, barely talking through the door. Prime ended up picking the lock, picking you up, and dragging you to the living room. Rowan drugged your hot coca, and they all cuddled you until you fell asleep.

That's when they knew, what they had to do.

Because forever and always, you will be theirs...their precious human.. forever.

[squid--inc--writes]

purgatory

so, I decided to finally finish writing that piece from a really fucked up dream I had. this probably doesn`t cover a quarter of it, but I enjoyed it, and its the first solid writing piece I`ve had in 2 years, so I`m proud.

@schwarzekatzen @wettthepottterheadss4120

warning: gore, gross descriptions, vague psychological bullshit, bullying, violence, etc.

word count:  2281

summary: you follow Trith (not mentioned in the story) on her first round to meet some of the residents within this particular realm of purgatory. Because, frankly, who else can?

My eyes open to a hollow ceiling, peering right into an attic where a familiar rocking hair rocks away. Not a care in the world about how it's up there. That would be Granny Gin. Don't know her real name, but still. She's there. Dead as ever, and knitting away. Sometimes I sleep in long enough that her scarf reaches the floor.

Standing up, groggy, I make my way to do my rounds. Someone's got to make sure the dead don't panic. The first round doesn't have to be me all dressed up. Not like they care about the smell. At least I don't think they do. Can the dead smell? I don't know. At Kirby's request, I started keeping a journal so he can remember what last happened and get one step closer to getting out of here. I also want to help everyone else out of purgatory, so this is why I'm writing this. Brand spanking new. Right up on a blank page. Yep.

So, I guess my next ghastly figure is Heidi. She stands in the bathroom all day. Touching up her makeup, not changing a thing. Aside from the usual changes extended stays can cause. I think she starved to death. Couldn't tell you. She's standing there, takes a glance at me in the mirror, nods, then tries another colour of lipstick. She's been here a while, so that means three eyes, each one a distinct colour of red, blue or yellow. She also has glowing skin, and her legs are becoming more horse like. Maybe her puzzle would be solved by getting her life a little STABLE. Hah. Get it? Why would I write down my laugh?

Whatever, I'm not going to erase anything or cross it out. The thoughts of the living might help, even abstractly.

The next is the hallway. Bert walks along, holding a gas can thing. Y'know, an old timey thing they used to gas bugs? I'm not sure, I can't recall ever needing an exterminator.

He tips his hat to mean, "hey there, lil' lady. Didn't the landlord tell ya to keep out of the building for the next day or so? Don't worry. I'll wait to do my work until you get out. I'll just let 'im know I'll be a bit late starting."

I nod, "thank you." Sometimes it's easier to play along. I feel he's been a tad testy, so I try not to agitate him. Usually I can pass by just fine. Maybe he had anger issues. Try and work his puzzle out like that. Ironically, he resembles a cockroach by now. He doesn't have hands, but the rigid limbs that should have been his hands were made of a hardened skin. It chipped away from his bones like it knew it wasn't supposed to look like that. I rarely look him in the face, both because he looks… interesting, but also because it tends to aggravate him. Maybe it's the way I look at him. He's yelled at me for being a large bug before, not always a roach. I just don't want to get hit again. Maybe I shouldn't help him.

Next up, Theodore and Teddy. They have the same name, and they yell at each other from across the hall. They each have their own rooms. Sometimes they switch rooms. They seem to be connected at this point, literally. They have long strings of flesh swinging from between their bodies. At one point, they got cut, and you see everything pouring out. They acknowledge it in their recent arguments, getting mad at the other for not making enough of an effort to keep it all in. Theodore usually doesn't have a jaw anymore, since it melted down, combined with his clothes. I can't check on Mindy anymore thanks to them. I don't think I want to.

However, I think the problem revolves around they're communication. But that's an obvious point. Maybe they need to accept their own responsibility for their misfortunes.

Mindy… last time I saw her, she had dolls connecting to her through thousands of strands of veins, and nerves, and all other sorts of things. They aren't all made of plastic anymore, last time I saw her.

Theodore says to me, as if his chin wasn't sitting where his stomach would be, "hello dear. How are you today?"

"I'm doing well. Thank you. How are you and Teddy today?"

Teddy snorts from the other room, dusting off an old hat, and placing it on his head, "I'm fine. Perfectly."

Theodore rolled his eyes, "we're as well as ever. Just a lovers' quarrel."

Teddy got offended, ripping the hat off, "oh, NOW we're lovers?"

I nod, and quickly leave before they start trying to pull their guts to their respective sides, and spitting insults. It never ends well.

Next up, Patty and Simone, standing on the stairs. They are actually quite friendly with each other. Patty asking Simone about her husband, Simone asking how Patty's been, after her being widowed and all. They swap recipes regularly. Patty very much seems like she killed her husband. And some of the recipes they swap sound as if Simone is trying to kill her husband. If what she says is true, he deserves it. God do I hope it's not.

Simone has morphed into the railing at this point, spine jutting from bloodless flesh so she can lean on the staircase. I feel the one they used to talk at was a lot lower, considering Simone is almost nine feet in the air. Patty, however, seems to be turning to a bone statue. Her legs can no longer move, not that she moved much to begin with. Wait, no, this time she seems to be turning to ice. Her legs are quite transparent, but there's a layer of frost surrounding her feet. They never used to acknowledge me, but Simone seems to have spread to the stairs, and she'll scold me for walking too roughly. Patty gives me the most judgmental look. I think if they could move on from husband's they'd probably be home free. But that is what their lives revolved around for so long, so I'm not sure that could be easy.

Once I sneak down the stairs without slipping, or getting yelled at, it's into the kitchen I go. Sid is at the fridge constantly stuffing his face. Somehow, he's a part of the fridge. Everything drops out of his stomach back into the fridge, into a pile of slop. Like something a pig would eat. If he's particularly frantic, he'll tear chunks out of himself. I don't think they can feel it when they hurt themselves. Not unless they're supposed to…

I have no clues as to how Sid can save his puzzle. He doesn't tend to talk. I'm not sure he has vocal cords anymore. He barely has eyes.

Moving from the kitchen is the parlor. I'm not sure how this place works, so I'm not sure this is in the right place. Either way, the parlor has about seven people in here. Kirby plays checkers with Daniel, Maud watches TV with Lainey, Paula and Shess pick on Lily. 

Paula and Shess would probably be gone if they could stop, and just sincerely apologize. I'm not sure Lily is really a person though, because she's never changed once. I think she kind of looks like a mannequin, but moving. She's meant to play a part, being small, and easy to pick on. Shess shattered her arms at one point, and now just has gooey, bloody stumps with bone shards sticking out that she uses to punch lily with, and her head is being engulfed by her own skin, but her eyes seemed to have multiplied, hair having started to attach and grow off of the eyes. Like the world's grossest ice-cream cone. Paula, on the other hand, started turning into blades. Her fingernails are long and sharp, her arms have started to thin at the edges, and splinter into more blades, even her nose resembles a knife. I passed her once, her hair brushed my cheek, and I had a long cut from my temple to my chin. That wasn't fun. I can't talk to either of them. They're always caught up in bloodlust.

Lainey and Maud try to ignore Shess and Paula as much as possible. They are actually aware of their surroundings. I don't think they need my help out, because they've been fading lately, so maybe they're ready to pass on. They generally talk about the movie they're watching. Sometimes they get new snacks from an unknown source. Usually they just coo at each other about how much they love each other, and what signs to look for to find each other again. They told me that Purgatory allows you the chance to return to when you died, the chance to fade completely, or to join the better place in whatever you believed in. Purgatory is for learning lessons. They both believe in reincarnation, and fully believe they'll still love each other, no matter the timeline. It's one of the nicer conversations.

Daniel and Kirby are next up. Daniel has no idea what's going on ever. His skin seems to be made from webs, and these small black creatures weave over him all the time, anytime something starts breaking down. Which happens at every move.  Daniel seems actually peaceful here. Maybe he needs to take a stand. Especially with Kirby always cheating. He doesn't even do it subtly, he straight up takes pieces, and places them where they shouldn't be. Daniel would probably tear all his 'skin' off at this point if he tried to do something.

Kirby, however, seems to increasingly be made of greasy Hawaiian print shirts. Yes, you are made of shirts. I almost slip when I pass your table because it's not, like, slightly caked on grease, it's literally dripping, and doesn't spread past a three foot radius. Maybe if you apologized for Dan, it would help. How's that sound?

Okay, three more rooms, then I start getting ready. So, I leave the other side of the parlor, head into the hall, and head to the basement. Shimi is down here. They're just a long, skinny eel at this point. With multiple heads that bite at Shimi's main body. I'm not even sure when Shimi showed up, and I've never seen much else, so I'm not sure they can leave. I don't try to go into the water. Too scared. It's undefinably deep. Some places you can see the ground, others are holes, others are so obfuscated by flesh that has yet to melt down and turn into water. I'm sure Shimi's been here for thousands of years.

Heading back upstairs, I check on the, what I can only assume, ballroom. It's huge, and usually has a few dancing couples. This room changes a lot, and has the least mutated people in it. I remember I helped one couple realize the intense emotion they couldn't move on from was rage, at the fact that they had cheated on each other. They both felt wronged, but they were both no better than each other. The puzzle they solved involved them no longer dancing together, and finding new partners. Today it stood completely empty. Not unusual, but still. The room always unnerves me.

Next up, I like to call the nook. It's not quite in the library, but it's very cozy right outside it.

A rough, sweet voice says, "what took you so long?"

I smile at Ronnie. She's very nice. I think she is, maybe was, actually my age when she died. We're both around seventeen. She however has skin made from literal porcelain, although that does mean when she moves too much, her body starts leaking blood, like from her eyes and joints . Her hair is nearly laid around her head, a warm auburn. And I don't mean that figuratively. It literally feels the way a room with plenty of blankets and a fireplace would feel like. The nook doesn't have a fireplace, it just has Ronnie.

She rasps out, "well, are we going to have a nap? You're my favourite snuggle buddy, and I can't have one without you."

I'm pretty sure she can't leave because she's trapped in her childhood. She's told me about all her dolls, and toys. I think her house might have burned down, and she wouldn't leave them behind. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get her to leave.

I give her a closed mouth smile, and step forward, "yeah, I can help you take a nap."

I wind up cuddling up to her. And, I think I won't write much until after I get ready. Too tired. Need to wake up more.

When I'm finally up, I look up to see the hollow attic. No floor at all. Grandmother Gin rocking away in her rocking chair, completely unaware of the lack of floor.im not sure if that's actually her name. Sometimes I get up so late that her blanket actually gets in my way trying to get up. At least I don't usually get dressed up to do my first round. I don't think the dead care about when the living stink. They don't seem to care about much. I do. Speaking of stink, I am doing this for my pal Kirby. Try to keep a record and write down everything that happens. Maybe I can help him, and some of the others, out of here. That's why I'm writing this. Right here. Blank page. Well, not blank anymore. But, hey, first page, first to go.

[thefamily]

Chapter Six: 1824 October 11th Hush boy

Jacks P.O.V.

T.W. Blood

        ‘It’s alright πυγολαμπίδα, you never have to deal with this place again. So just… relax my love.’ At those words I can feel my self relax, the relief that over comes me causes me to cry a little at the thought of never returning to that hellhole again. I feel my conscious drift away from the chaotic scene and I can feel petals wrap around me as I slide through them green lightning curving from my body(?) every now and again until I hear a someone humming to themselves as I hear the sound of someone carving wood. As I turn towards them I can see I’m in a dark room lit only by the candle on the desk with a boy(?) probably only around seventeen or so with… teal… hair? And I think I can see his eyes glowing gold from here.

        I take a step towards him examining trying to see if I can recognize him despite the familiarity radiating from him. He suddenly sits up straight causing me to jump back a bit and as I examine the back of his neck and I can feel a bit of hope fill my heart. There is two soul-marks on the back of his neck that hooked in each-other one of a stray green bolt of lightning and one of a wisp of the universe. Just like…

        “JJ?” I whisper out, shock over taking me as I take a step forward, but as I do every single doll and figurine turned their heads towards me, their eyes glowing an eerie yellow, giving a similar feeling to the forest. I instinctively reach to him to get him away from the dolls not even bothering to notice there really wasn’t a way out. As he turns to me I can see he has a rather annoyed expression that quickly fades into shock as his glowing gold eyes land on me, and just as I go to step towards him, the floor beneath me falls away.

        I can feel the petals again pulling me through the colorful void as I try to fight against them, trying to get back to JJ but I quickly stop, the smell of the petals relaxing me. I allow my self to drift until I hear a familiar voice calling for me.

        “Come here Sunon.” It’s Henrik’s voice, I know it is, I don’t know how but I do, he’s older maybe twenty, and he has a German accent but I can hear the little bit of Irish lingering in the back of his voice. It sounds happy but more of a sad… happy, if that makes sense.

        “Sunon, come here.” The voice calls again and it’s almost pleading and I jolt in shock, bolts of lightning curving from my body, as I recognize the voice.

        “Henrik?” The voice that comes from me sound like my seven year old self, confusion washes over me before at the sound of my voice until I can see what’s happening again.

        ‘Oh,’ I think as I look around, somehow without moving my body. ‘this is the day before Henrik got adopted.’ I remember it well enough to know that I didn’t leave his side the entire day. I feel my body move on it own accord at the sound of Henrik’s voice again.

        “I’m over here Sunon.” I look around and see him sitting on top of a large rock still wet from swimming the lake. It was one of those rare warm sunny days during the summer where Henrik would take me to a lake deep in the forest. Everything looked the same from that except, he looked different. His instead of their normal sky blue, they’re a soft, green with the same color veins going from the iris to the whites of his eyes to the area surrounding his eyes. And though his hair was the same length, long enough for a small pony tail, his usual light brown hair, was a soft green on the top and brown and a twinge of silver in it.

        Other than that though he was the same, with the same pale skin, Marvin's mark on his forehead just like me, the rest of my brothers and the other one was Liru’s… mark. ‘Oh my god. She’s all of our soulmate! How did I not realize that!’ She doesn’t even know either, I never bothered to mention it because I forgot ‘How the hell did I forget that?!’

        “Sunon?” Henrik’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I can feel my six year old body move and speak on it’s own accord.

        “Coming Hen” I got up and I could feel the left over water on my skin drying from the sun as I went over to him forgetting my shirt completely as I climbed up to the rock, sitting in front of him and for a split second I think it’s gonna fall out beneath me as well. I look up at him and I can feel a forced smile on my face as I look up at him. His eyes are sad as he looks at me but he has a soft smile as he looks at me. I watch as he reaches up around his neck and undoing the leather cord with a silver band that had a sigil Marvin carved into it.

        I watched as he had picked up the one of my hands the one with his mark on my upper arm and puts the ring and cord in my hand and covering it. My eyes water as he does and I try to hold my tears back but fall miserable. I launch at him, hugging him tightly not even bother with the fact I nearly knocked us both off the rock, burying my faces into his chest and crying my eyes out. He wraps an arm around me my torso and puts a hand on the back of my head as he buries his nose in my hair lightly and I can hear him mutter those words that were once comforting and now just painful to hear.

        “It’s okay Sunon. Everything will be okay, I’ll come back for you, ten years top. I promise.” As he said those words the world around me faded before leaving surrounded in the void of petal.

        Except they weren’t petals anymore, they were slimy, black than black, smelled like death, sulfur and burning flesh, it made me want to puke. They weren’t guiding me anymore they were yanking me down and this time I fought.

        I struggled and scratched and pulled, lightning breaking from my body and striking at the faux petals, burning them making the smells stronger to the point where I want to throw up. After a full minute of fighting against the pull the petals yank me down through them and I fall about a couple of stories landing on my back letting out a loud wheeze of pain as I feel the air whoosh out of my body as I struggle to regain it as I force myself up wincing in pain.

        As I stand up I freeze, every hair on my body stands up on end and I can feel my heart fall to my stomach then my stomach fall through the floor. In front of me was this large disgusting creature, it had a round body with useless legs dragging behind it as it uses it’s to small for it’s body wings, to hover in one spot and it was the color of if someone threw up and mixed ink into it. Thats not the worst part though was the to many long, spindly needle sharp arms holding up an almost identical copy of me, the only differences was the one black eye with a neon green iris and the other a Blue Lapis color and a slit throat.

        “Anti…?” My voice is quiet and breaking a I speak, the disbelief quickly become of over come with rage and sadness. Now I really wanna throw up and wake up. The creature’s spindly needle sharp arms wear pierced through his lower arms, hands, every one of his fingers, his feet and what seemed to be his head. And the way it was keeping him up, made Anti look like a puppet. The thing grins it’s beady white eyes almost closing from the wide grin showing off brown jagged over grown human teeth, with a sick sense of joy as it seems to speak and I could barely make out what it was saying.

        “D̎ͪ̽͢ir̙͇̫u͍̥ͤ̐͜ ͯͦ̿s͑͌͂͢a͉͆l̥̥͙utő̵̬n̖ͭ ̕a͉̙ľ̻͝ v̤̀i̵a ̞ͬfŗ͉̖͌̓a̡t̩ͩo,̶̅ P̶ṳ̃p̬͕̈͐p̓e̛͗̃͑t̲̆.͔̹̈̽” I watch in horror as Anti seems to jerk before whispering out in a dead voice,

“J̢acḱ?” I let out a chocked sob as the rage falls away leaving nothing but sadness behind. I watch as his eyes flash for a second full of confusion then fear, then straight up terror and panic and with each emotion I see, the slit in his neck begins to bleed heavier than before.

        “JA̧ĆK!́” His voice is desperate pleading and I can see more of the demons spindly arms begin to reach towards me and I can feel all of the rage suddenly slam into at once as green lightning explodes everywhere as I let out a scream of rage and the demon recoils as the lightning bursting from my body strikes it’s arms causing it to let out a shriek of pain.

        “ŖUN̷ JA̡CK ́P͢L̸EASE!͞” Anti’s voice breaks through the noise and I can see the demon quickly regrow the burned limbs as it lets out a roar that makes my head pound painfully.

        “P҉LEASE̸-” Anti’s desperate cry is cut off my the sound of him gurgling and blood pour out his mouth his neck practically a fountain of blood now. I can feel tears streaming down my face as I begin to move forward towards Anti, but as I do the creature lunges forward and before I can move, I wake up staring into Liru’s night blue, worried eyes.

_______________________________________________________________

Sunon = Sun

Say hello to your brother = Diru saluton al via frato

_______________________________________________________________

Thank you @antis-gauge for helping give me motivation to write

Don’t forget to reblog

Tag List:

@immabethehero

@antis-gauge

@therealtiger77

@nerdylampeclipseuniversity

@a-mad-tea-time

@i-maybe-exist

@flowers-zombie-rob

@myspeedymilkshake

[fic-for-fic-sake]

Bucky’s Thighs

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen 

A/N: I have been reading SO MANY POSTS about Bucky’s thighs and beefy bucky and it got me all worked up. 

Something struck you, that much you knew. You didn’t know what it was or who had done it, but you could feel the pinch of a needle piercing the flesh of your neck. You pulled out the dart, expecting to fall, to be knocked out. But no such thing happened. You looked around you for the assailant but whoever had done it had vanished. 

You studied the dart, noticed a thick honey like substance oozing from the tip of the needle. You watched as it cascaded down the vile and onto your finger. Weird, it didn’t feel like anything. Maybe a little warm but nothing was happening. It was unlike HYDRA to do something without causing damage. Maybe this was an experiment of them gone awry, or maybe your enhanced body wouldn’t be affected. Whatever the case, you threw the needle to the ground before giving Steve your status over the comms. Following his orders, you cleared out of the now empty warehouse and went back to the quinjet, awaiting the rest of the team. 

Fiddling with the iPad Steve handed you, you were about to start typing in your mission report when the rest of the team came bounding on deck. First Nat and Sam, a little cut up but no worse for wear, followed by Wanda, eyes still glowing a furious red as she tried to calm herself down. You were just about to ask what the hell happened to her when you saw him, Bucky. Your throat constricted and you felt heat rush to your face as you took in his slightly tattered appearance. His hair was wild and out of control, his eyes were slightly clouded over, probably thinking back to the mission. His silver arm glinted in the low light of the jet, his hands doing quick work taking out the magazine of his gun. 

But that’s not what caught your eye. No, that was reserved for his thighs. Thick as tree trunks and wrapped in beautiful muscles that rippled through the fabric of his tac pants as he walked towards Steve on the jet. You noticed that he had been holstering a gun that was strapped to his thigh and you pulled on the collar of your own suit. Suddenly finding the room an unbearably hot temperature. You pulled down the zipper of your uniform just a little so you could breathe, your black sports bra peeking out in a small triangle. The cool air of the jet was a stark contrast to your heated skin and you noticed you had been sweating, your chest covered in a thin sheen of moisture. 

Bringing your focus back on the iPad you almost didn’t hear Bucky when he spoke to you. 

“Doll, you okay?” He asked, a hint of concern laced with his words. His eyes roamed over your chest, seeing your unzipped uniform and the sweat, and you felt yourself squirm under his gaze. Your mouth suddenly too dry, you dragged your tongue across your lips to try and wet them but to no avail. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, perfect.” You wheezed out, but you were starting to doubt that you were. What the hell had HYDRA injected you with? You had been convinced it was nothing but now you weren’t sure. Maybe you should tell someone. 

“Well you might wanna strap in, we’re leaving.” Bucky replied, motioning to your chair straps, that hung limply at your sides. With shaking hands you attempted to buckle yourself in but you couldn’t seem to be able to. “Here, let me.” Bucky insisted, taking the black material from your hands. For the briefest of moments your fingers skimmed against his which caused a sharp intake of breath on your part. Bucky’s crystal blue eyes found yours, his gaze was unwavering, persistent, sure something wasn’t right. But you just shook your head in response and he continued. 

When he finished helping you with your buckle, he sat next to you and strapped himself in. The bulk of his thigh gently pressed against your own and you did everything to suppress the moan that spilled from your lips. His thigh against yours, the place your two bodies were connected, felt like it was on fire. Your breathing turned shallow and the thought of his eyes roaming your body, his fingertips brushing yours, and now his thigh against your own, was driving you crazy. Once again, you fidgeted in your seat as you felt a familiar sensation between your thighs. You felt your walls flutter and contract around nothing and a small gasp escaped your lips, making you shudder. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, his hand grasping your shoulder to stop the shudder. But he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that his hand only made things worse. The warmth of his palm added to your already heated skin, you felt your cheeks flush and the place where you were shot with the dart began to itch. Your body felt like it was on an overload of sensations. The sound of Bucky’s heartbeat became prominent. A steady drum, against your own erratic one. The coolness of his breath fanning over your skin. The intensity with which his eyes looked at you. The heat between your legs became unbearable and you became restless. Too hot, too much. With the same shaky hands you quickly undid the straps of your seat. You made some quick excuse about needing the bathroom before heading in that direction on wobbling legs. 

You quickly shut the small bathroom door behind you and turned on the faucet to cold. While the water ran you pressed your forehead against the mirror, your breathing coming in erratic bursts now. You splashed water on your face, the mark on your neck, your arms, your chest. Anywhere it felt like it was too hot. You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes blown wide and hair wild. You looked like a feral animal who had been caged for too long. Just now seeing the world. The water wasn’t doing enough to cool your skin, you needed out. You quickly zipped your suit down the rest of the way and stepped out of it. Taking your boots off as well in the process. 

With weak hands you began pressing what should’ve been freezing water against your stomach and thighs. But it wasn’t cold, not to you. It felt like it hardly made a difference, only making you more wet in the process. You let out a soft whimper as a fresh wave of heat washed over you. You heard a knock on the door. 

“Yeah.” You croaked, your parched voice hardly above a raspy whisper. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky’s voice demanded from the other side. 

“I don’t know.” You responded lamely, your body responding to Bucky’s firm tone. You licked your lips, this time in hunger. 

“Open the door.” He commanded. 

Weakly, you unlocked the door and opened it ajar for Bucky. He saw you standing there in nothing but a black sports bra and why bother spandex shorts and his eyes widened. You saw his pink tongue slide out to wet his lips before you felt your knees give in. You were sure you would crash onto the cool tile floor but Bucky was faster. He was there in an instant, metal arm wound protectively around your midsection. You gasped at the sensation, the cool metal against your skin, you needed more. 

With curious fingers you brought your hands up to run them through Bucky’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp as you went. His eyes fluttered shut and he muttered something under his breath. He looked so gorgeous like this, so vulnerable but you knew how strong he was under the surface. His lips were enticing you, all pink and perfect and beautiful. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran your thumb across his lower lip, feeling the softness under your thumb. He looked at you with hooded eyes and suddenly you knew, like a light switch flicking in your head, you knew what you needed to do to feel better. 

Without warning you crashed your lips into Bucky’s, moaning into his mouth. He stilled for a second before his mouth devoured yours with equal fervor. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, desperate to bring him closer. His metal arm pulled you closer to him while his flesh hand wrapped around the back of your neck, trying to deepen the kiss. You felt his fingers splay out and one of them pressed against where you were shot. A sharp cry of pain rang out from your mouth and Bucky stopped his ministrations. 

“What is that?” He questioned, as he released you and peered around to the back of your neck. 

“It’s nothing.” You breathed out, needing him to come back to you, “Just a spot where a stupid dart hit me, I’m fine.” 

“A dart?” He asked, eyes suddenly wide and intense. “What did it look like? What was in it?” 

“I don’t know, it felt like honey, it was thick and warm.” You answered, not understanding the problem. 

“Fuck.” Bucky breathed out under his breath as he sank on the toilet seat, running his hands through his hair. 

“Shh, I’m sure it was nothing.” You responded gently, climbing into his lap and lifting his face from his hands. You didn’t care what it was that you were hit with, all you knew was that you needed Bucky and you needed him bad. 

“No, it wasn’t nothing.” He said matter-of-factly as he put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back. “It was sex pollen.” 

You gently rocked forward on Bucky’s thigh, needing to relieve some of the pressure you felt in your core. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck and brought your lips to his ear. “C’mon Buck. We can think about this later. I just want you to make me feel good baby.” You said in the most sultry voice you could think of. 

“You don’t know what you want.” He said in a strangled voice, trying to hide his own arousal. “When this wears off you won’t feel the same.” 

“Uh uh, not true.” You said as you continued to grind on his thigh, the thick cords of his muscles hitting you in all the right places. “I’ve wanted you for a while, but what did me in was seeing that thigh holster on you. If you don’t help me I feel like I’ll explode.” You whimpered, feeling another crushing wave of arousal roll over you. You almost fell off of Bucky’s lap but once again he wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, holding you fast against him. 

Bucky silently cursed himself. He knew what sex pollen felt like, HYDRA had used it on him in an attempt to torture him. He knew how it could make a person go crazy. He could feel the wetness seeping out from you and drenching his tac pants. Could hear your beautiful little pants and moans and pleas as they hit his ears like sweet honey. He wanted to say no but he couldn’t stand to see you in any discomfort or pain. You were his weakness. 

“Alright baby, I’m gonna make you feel real good.” He cooed into your ear, hiking you up a little further on his leg. 

“Oh, please Bucky, I need you.” You whimpered in response as you continued to grind down further on his leg. He flexed his thigh muscles against your core and the moans you made in response went straight to his cock. Your breath came out in sharp pants as you continued to work yourself on his thigh. 

“Come on darlin’ fuck yourself on me just like that.” Bucky encouraged, grabbing your hips and forcing you down on his thigh. You could feel his hands digging into your skin, enough that you were sure there would be marks later. But you didn’t care. Didn’t care because you were fucking yourself on Bucky’s thigh and god did it feel good. He was whispering dirty things into your ear at a voice barely above a whisper. He flexed his thigh and the way it rubbed against your clit made you cry out in pleasure. You could feel your high approaching. You sunk your fingers into Bucky’s muscles and bit on his shoulder in an attempt to stifle the moans coming from your mouth. 

“You gonna come for me? Huh baby? You wanna come?” Bucky questioned in a harsh tone as he nibbled on your neck, finding your sensitive spot. 

“Yes, please, please.” You begged, feeling your walls begin to flutter around nothing. Sensing your climax, Bucky grazed his teeth against the wet skin of your neck. You threw your head back in ecstasy as you came undone. Bucky watched you ride out your high, your breathing returning to a semi normal state. Your face flushed, lips kiss bruised and slightly parted, trying to take in breath. 

He took your chin between his fingers and brought your mouth down to his own, kissing you with a fire like intensity. He wound his hand through your hair and rested his forehead against yours. 

“Feel better?” He asked in a sultry voice. Suddenly feeling very much worked up himself. 

“A little.” You replied, once again squirming in his lap. Bucky looked at the clock and a slow smile worked its way across his lips, they still had a couple hours until they would be back at the compound. He wondered if anyone would notice they were missing. 

[claihn]

Impulse

[[ Warning: Bugs. Violence. Language. ]] 

“So... you're not mad?”   Two shadows flickered against the wooden wall opposite from twin flickering candles. The lights rested upon a table nestled against a window frame and a blanket of stars twinkled behind the glass. The familiar scent of the ocean, leather and spice blanketed Kini like an old shawl that threatened to tempt her into relaxation. This was a quiet place that was absent of confusion, muddling ideas and loud voices. “No,” A'khato rumbled. His large, calloused hands navigated a roll of bandages with meticulous precision around his sister's fingers. Her other arm was already fully wrapped with snug support that covered the entirety of her hands all the way up to her elbows. She winced when he brought a cloth, saturated in pungent minty mix, and wiped at some of the blistered lacerations. The area was then patted dry before he went to work again, little by little bandaging up her injuries. “Why?”  Kini couldn't help but whisper, biting her lower lip. Her watery blue eyes surveyed his stern features, noting how there was an edge to his expression, but it was distant. Almost satisfied. His medium-length, wild cut locks of ebony hair were tousled in various directions and the charcoal paint on his cheek was smudged to the side. His motions paused and his lips pursed at her question, until he dragged his gaze up at her with a flicker of annoyance.  Kini winced an apologetic smile and ducked her head with ears flattening sideways. Oops. “You've always been impulsive. Do better next time. This mistake could've made you useless, and don't let it slow down your work.” He reprimanded her, although his words were flat and bored sounding. He went back to navigating the bandages. The silence between them grew palpable, as was the knowledge that both siblings knew the question was unanswered. He'd given a response, of course. Yet just as A'khato could read Kini with little trouble, so could she pick up on his tells. He was calm, but he was too focused on simple motions. His tail was actively twitching back and forth.   What aren't you telling me? She knew better than to prod an agitated King. At least this time.

She had her back pressed against the warm, stoned wall of the hallway. He smelled like ale and herbs, especially as he crowded his body against hers. Pudgy, greedy hands wandered over her frame and Kini could feel his breath against her right ear. It made her flinch and she'd asked him politely to leave that side alone, but for some reason people always mistook her. Clearly she trembled because she enjoyed it. She flinched because it was sensitive. She was just playing coy.  I hate it. Her eyes were glancing past him though, and instead she absently nodded at the words he was mumbling. Something about smells and fancy clothes. It was hard to hear when he was mouth breathing against her right side instead of her left. She found herself focusing on the light beneath the crack of the doorway that led into the living room. Kini could faintly hear the deep, baritone voice of her brother along with a higher, barked voice of the woman he was meeting with. This was a job that her brother had asked her to come along as a temptation. Almost like old times, except now he thought she should be better as a “professional” distraction. Kini didn't mind. It gave her a flutter of happiness to be of use on one of his missions, even if it was a boring one without any fighting. Those were always her favorite. She enjoyed using her magic to assist him, while he killed anything that stood in his way. He was a force of nature. A force of nature that sometimes she was lucky enough to protec-no. Assist. Behold. Adore. “Fucking distracted?!” The man hissed as he gripped the top of her shoulder and gave her a shake. Kini's eyes snapped back to attention to flash him a delicate, apologetic wince. “S-sorry! I just thought I heard something. You seem very nice.” She bumbled out the words, although the stuffy man sneered in response. His fingers dug a little more into her skin, while the other scrunched up the airy, cotton fabric of her skirt and began to roughly yank at it. Once, twice and then the sound of tearing along with the painful stretch of the opposite side cutting into her skin announced the gaining success of his goal.   “Even dressed up all fancy, guess you're still just a novice whore, huh? That's fine. You're gonna be here a loooong time. Plenty of suns, moons to train you to be a real slut.”  His eyes glittered darkly and Kini felt a lump rise in her throat, even more than his pressing weight.   “N-no. I'm j-just here as my brother's assistant. When he's done, I have to leave too. I already have a jo-” Her words were cut off by a barking laugh from the man. His greasy fingers on her shoulders instead moved to her neck and he leaned into the motion. Kini acted on instinct and drew in a quick, squelched gasp before a pressured strain began to build in her face from the lack of air. “Stupid kitten. Your brother is going to die here tonight. All this is just a wasted effort and he just brought a little prize for our game. So jus-” 

The man was still talking, but the rest of his words drizzled away. Perhaps it was the frantic pounding of her heart or the pressure in her ears. Your brother is going to die. Why was it always her brother? A furrowed brow from a stranger. A clatter of knives. A bite to the neck. Desperation. Panic. A murmur of disapproval. Warm, questioning words between sips of honey-mead. Isolation. A threatened hand. I need him. My savior. My King. Don't take him away from me. Don't take him away from me. Don'ttakehimawayfromme! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM. Kini's eyes widened as they locked onto the man, but there was no flicker of fear. There was a heavy pause of staring into the eyes like an unhinged doll before silvery blue light spilled from her pupils to engulf her vision. She grabbed the man's arms, nails digging like a vice with a false sense of strength. The warm, pleasant air of the room plummeted like a stone and the man felt an annoying, tiny bite upon his wrist. Then another upon his elbow. Two near his hands. Two became four, four became twenty, twenty became a hundred and the biting pinpricks rapidly dominated his body. Kini stared blankly at him, ignoring the growing chill of his body as rime formed upon her own arms, harmlessly blossoming here or there upon the man's own bulbous form. He, however, stared in horror as skittering, chittering bugs of all shapes and sizes burrowed their way out of his skin. They tore through muscle, wriggling and bulging just underneath flesh. Thousands of legs tickled at every inch of him, both inside and out. They filled his lungs. They consumed his tongue. They crawled over his eyes and churned in his stomach. The man screamed, threw Kini to the side and fled to the door. He battered against it once, twice and three times before he broke his nose but managed to get it open.   A'khato and the woman inside both started from where they sat across from each other at a dining table. The man barely made through the entrance before he collapsed on the floor, spasming and spittling at the mouth. His scream was silent, skin sickly but otherwise alive even if he looked blankly to the side from his new slobbering spot upon the floor. No bugs. No blood. Only flecks of inconsequential ice. 

Kini's eyes had returned to normal and she staggered through the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her face was blanched, breath heavy and her partially rimed arms hung loosely at her sides with spidery, dark bruises along their lengths to compliment the smattering of bleeding blisters.  Yet her expression was cold and unflinching. The collapsed piece of garbage went completely ignored in favor of looking to her brother, voice deadpan. “A'khato, they're trash.”

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”  A'khato's voice broke the silence when he finished bandaging her arms. He peered up at her, searching. Kini quickly shook her head. She noticed the yellow, gold and black bracelet that he wore around his wrist. The ribbons had been carefully braided until they were thickly corded with a flat, obsidian gem nestled in the center.  She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and made a show of wiggling her fingers with a wince. “G-good as new!” He rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, gesturing to the bed. “Rest here. When you leave tomorrow, don't be stupid and bother with your bag. You can get it another time.” A'khato sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and stretched languidly a moment after. His footsteps carried him to the doorway where he paused and glanced over his shoulder back at his sister. Golden eyes narrowed into slits and a sinuous growl formed into words. “Don't do that ever again.” He left. A muffled clatter of plates announced his location in the kitchen a few minutes later. She ducked her head and found toes wiggling to jingle the bell attached to her thin anklet. He hadn't waited for the answer, but she was grateful for the mercy.  They both knew it was an empty promise to make, but even so- Kini couldn't help but capture a sliver of happiness from it. 

[insidethebeatles]

Inside The Beatles ‘Butcher Cover’ - Yesterday and Today

Released on the 20th June 1966, The Beatles Yesterday and Today may seem unfamiliar to U.K audiences. Released only in the United States and Canada by Capitol Records, the album was a compilation of songs taken from albums and singles released during 1965-66. This was typical of Capitol Records. Owned by The Beatles’ U.K label E.M.I, the label regularly adjusted and withdrew songs from Beatles’ releases then collated them into a compilation album to sell a few months later. Not only did this interfere with the bands own artistic vision, but it meant that the Beatles’ rapid change in sound and style became muddled to American audiences. Whilst British listeners saw the development in sound from Help’s folk and blues influence to Revolver’s psychadelic rock; American listeners heard these developments as one. As a result of this, it was hard for the band to display their creative changes in both their maturing sound and songwriting abilities. Yesterday and Today contained a mixture of songs spread across three albums: ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Act Naturally’ from Help, released mid 1965; ‘Nowhere Man’, ‘What Goes On?’, ‘Drive My Car’, and ‘If I Needed Someone’ from Rubber Soul, released late 1965 alongside the singles ‘Day Tripper’ and ‘We Can Work it Out’; and ‘Doctor Robert’, ‘I’m Only Sleeping’ and ‘And Your Bird Can Sing’ from Revolver, released mid 1966.

The cover of the infamous album, taken 25th March 1966, marked a shift in the production and marketing of the Beatles. The clean-cut and squeaky-clean publicity images of the four-piece handsome mop-top band began to irritate and clash against their own developing personalities, fashions and explorations with drugs. Lennon stated in 1980, the shoot ‘was inspired by our boredom and resentment at having to do another photo session and another Beatles thing. We were sick to death of it. Bob was into Dali and making surreal pictures’.

Robert Whitaker began his relationship with the Beatles in 1964 when he was hired to photograph their second North-American tour, including their now infamous concert at Shea Stadium. He grew closer to the band over the next two years as he travelled alongside them documenting their professional and personal lives. The Yesterday and Today cover was intended as a surreal look into the relationship between fame and the band. The photo familiar to us is not actually Whitaker’s intended finished product; ultimately, the photo was to be apart of a set of three. In addition to this, he intended for the photo to be worked upon further, adding a gold background and silver jewelled halos on top of their heads akin to religious icons. The inclusion of meat, false teeth, dismembered doll parts and glass eyes were intended to represent the flesh and blood of the Beatles, a reminder that they were human underneath the level of fame they’d risen to. Whitaker said ‘All over the world I’d watched people worshiping like idols, like gods, four Beatles. To me they were just stock standard normal people. But this emotion that fans poured on them made me wonder where Christianity was heading’. Indeed, the photo was taken soon after Lennon’s infamous comments regarding the decline of Christianity and how the Beatles were 'more popular than Jesus’. Whitaker’s idea of a triptych never immortalised, but the photos that were meant to be pasted either side of the 'butcher’ image do exist. The first was supposed to symbolise the 'birth’ of the Beatles, using sausages as an umbilical cord, showing their human roots. The other, depicting Harrison hammering nails into Lennon’s head, symbolised the Beatles real nature; that they were not an illusion to be worshipped, but real substantial people. In imagining the triptych, Whitaker’s intention of the shoot is much clearer. However, the idea was never able to be realised.

Before the release of Yesterday and Today, the 'Butcher’ image was used to promote Paperback Writer in the British Music Press, but did not result in the same controversy that would await its use in America. According to Phillip Norman, it was The Beatles themselves who pushed for the image to be used in advertising and on the Yesterday and Today cover, despite claims from Brian Epstein that it would disrupt the band’s 'meticulously managed image’ that was already in disrepair due to Lennon’s comments surrounding Christianity. The number of records printed for the planned 15th June 1966 release has been debated, ranging from 60,000 to 750,000. When Capitol’s president Alan Livingston contacted the band after dealers refused to handle the album, McCartney continued to push for the photo’s use claiming that it was their 'comment on the war’. Though different to Whitaker’s intention, and out of his own hands, McCartney continued to push this interpretation. Many speculated that the cover was a jibe at Capitol records for the 'butchering’ of their albums. Others supported McCartney’s claim that it represented an opposition to the Vietnam War. Whitaker’s original intentions became lost. Lennon’s earlier comments surrounding Christianity had garnered a PR disaster of record burnings and protests in America; Capitol were hasty to avoid another controversy that could result in lost sales. On the 14th June, they released a statement recalling the album.

“The original cover, created in England, was intended as a ‘pop art’ satire. However a sampling of public opinion in the United States indicates that the cover design is subject to misinterpretation. For this reason, and to avoid any possible controversy or undeserved harm to the Beatles’ image or reputation, Capitol has chosen to withdraw the LP and substitute a more generally acceptable design.”

At first, the recalled albums were destroyed, and a whole new sleeve was prepared that became known as the ‘Trunk’ cover. Unbeknownst to Whitaker, this would once again involve another of his unfinished shots deemed less controversial. As a cost and time saving measure, Capitol executives decided to stop destroying the old sleeves, and instead began to paste the new image on top of the old. This news spread quickly to American Beatle-fans who began to steam their albums in attempt to peel off the new cover to reveal the 'Butcher’ cover. However, over time, the glue began to set more securely, and attempts to steam off the cover led to many badly damaged and destroyed ‘Butcher’ covers.

Coined by Harrison as 'The definitive Beatles collective’, the album now garners high prices at auction. The highest value version is the 'Butcher’ cover 'first-state’ stereo pressing, still wrapped in plastic. Only a few hundred of the first-issue covers still survive today, and the number of stereo pressings even fewer due to the dominance of mono (10:1 ratio). In 2016, a stereo, plastic wrapped copy sold for $125,000. 'Second-state’ pressings are more common, with the second cover still pasted on top of the 'Butcher’ cover. Sealed mono second-state copies have sold for $5000-$7000, and sealed stereo copies from $1000-3000. 'Third-state’ covers are even more common: peeled off ‘Trunk’ covers to reveal the 'Butcher’ cover. The most common version is the 'Trunk’ cover: the final cover of the Yesterday and Today album, without the ‘Butcher’ image underneath.

Originally seen as a profit-grab by Capitol, the Yesterday and Today compilation album took on a life of its own, beyond the collated and stylistically confusing music on the record. Ironically, the cost of recalling and replacing the cover was around $250,000, which overtook the profits made from the original release. In 1967, The Beatles signed a new contract which prohibited Capitol from altering their records. From then on, releases in the U.S had to be identical to U.K releases. The Yesterday and Today album marks a shift how the Beatles wanted to market themselves, and shows the power and influence that Capitol had on both the Beatles’ music and the marketing that accompanied them during their early to mid years. Though the cover may not have represented Whitaker’s original intentions for his photograph, but the cover is nonetheless an important part of Beatles history and marks a shift in the public image of the band.

[shippingmotherfrickers]

So. This is not the first story I wrote but it is the first on here so please don't be mean. This story is about a dream I had. Enjoy.

Just hanging around

"She is hanging above you. " 

I look up above my head but froze in fear. My heart stop beating, my blood stop moving, my legs giving out under me. The smell of rotten flesh filled my lungs. On my knees, I could feel my arms on my side as eyes burn the image in my head of the girl. The girls blood drip on my head trickling down to my face. I don't know if I should scream or if I should run, or if I should kill myself. My head scream with thoughts begging me just to look away. My brain pounded against my skull. The women only hanging by a rope from her neck. Was she alive, was she playing dead like my sister? Her arms started to move while her hands slowly traveled to my neck. I felt her nails, no, I felt claws on my neck.

Her claws pluge right into my neck lifting me off the ground. I could feel tears streaming down my face as I cough up blood. I struggle against her despite the pain I was going through. I wanted the pain the stop, the girl lifted my head up to her face. I wanted to scream but the nail was right in my vocal cords. Her eyes were a deep shade of red. While get hair was dark as the night sky. Her pale skin broken like a porcelain doll. She raised her other hand to my neck and stab her nails right into my neck just below her other hand. She slowly open up my neck like opening curtains from a window. The pain was unbearable, all I could do was feel my head being rip off of my body. She pulled harder on my neck tearing into my neck. The blood spilled out like a fountain. She teared my head right off leaving my head on the ground. Her and my blood mix together she cut her own rope and she fell to the ground with a thud.

I woke up with shock still in my system. The sun was shining in my eyes causing a headache. My memories were blurry but I could remember the bus crashing. I slowly sit up I could feel something squish under me. I look down to my friend covered in glass with a mix of blood, her eyes open wide with one shard of glass in her eye. I look up from my friend's dead body I could tell the bus was upside down. The seats were above me, the bus driver body hung upside down with the seat belt still on her. I could see her blood drip down from her head. The shock in my system buzzed with fear. I could feel my body start to shake.

"Heh... Ha. Ahhahahaah"

I started to laugh as I put my head in my lap, rocking back and forth on my friend's body. I could feel the tears threatened to fall from my eyes but made no move. I could hear serins getting closer to the bus. That could be in my head. After all i'm just dreaming, none of this is real. I will wake up, hug my friend,  go on a nice trip and have a great time. Then go back to my family where mom will already be waiting for me. I dig my nails into my neck drawing blood. "I can wake up if I kill myself" I repeated. I started to scratch on my neck. I pulled and pulled on my neck trying to scrape off the feeling of guilt. Just end it. Just stop it. Just get this thing out of me! I grab the the glass that was in my friends eye and stab my neck. I always did love a happy ending.

The warm water washed over my hands as I scrub as hard as I could. The dishes were such a pain making the day even more bitter. Especially, when you know your best friend's was on a class trip. I was supposed to go a class trip with my best friend Emily. I was supposed to be with Emily and Tasha (Emily best friend). I scrub harder on the dish finally get the old cheese out of the dish. I put the last plate next to sink and go to dry my hands. I was grounded last minute by my parents or more so, my mom. I didn't clean my room for 3 straight days, I call it a record. But, of course my mom didn't like (her being the clean freak that she is) me not cleaning my room. So I was grounded for a week at the time I was mad I didn't get to go but now I wished I went. 

I rush to the living room and sit right next to my mom. She smiled towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me probably feeling pity for not letting me go to the trip. She let's go pulling something out of her pocket. She placed two tickets with titles that read '9 flags amusement park'. My eyes widen in surprise looking to my mom for answers.

"Lilith I know your mad at me but I decided that I'm going to take you to an amusement park! I know for past days you've been sulking because, you didn't get to go to the trip and I've seen hard you have been cleaning. So, I decided that this is good idea to reward you. " My mom smiles.

"Really, thanks mom, you really are the best mom! " I hug her tight and she hugs me right back. 

"Ok, I know you watch that crime show but I have to check the news real quick. Just to make sure which day to go to the amusement park. " 

I nod, she flips through the channels after going through the channels my mom lands on the news. Right on time too, it talks about how it's going to be a sunny week all day in Georgia. Which is rare because Georgia weather is really bipolar. Me and my mom high five. My mom grab the the remote when a knock came to the door. My mom took the remote with her (bad habit of hers) which left me with the news. I was about to ask my mom for the remote back when something made my snap right back to the TV. 

"In other news, a field trip up to the mountains to have a fun was supposed to happen to these students. A school bus found on the side of the mountain almost causing a forest fire near blue Ridge. " Blue Ridge, that was where my class was supposed to go. I could feel dread and anxiety weigh me down. My mom's talking became back round noise as the TV kept running its mouth. I couldn't shut it up, it hurts, why did my neck hurt? They kept talking about how the bus may of slip on the pavement causing it to fall but some of the facts didn't match up. It said that the bus may of slid but the road wasn't narrow. That it slid doesn't make sense either because it wasn't even raining that day. 

None of it made sense. 

"Lilith" My mom voice was filled with nothing but sadness which made me suspect she found out about the bus incident. My eyes burn the image of the bus upside down where all my friends layed in black bags. My mom gasp seeing the incident. She grab me tight as I cried in her shoulder. 

"Lilith, Emily left a letter that she was going to give to you. " My mom handed me a letter that Emily wrote to me possibly before she died. My name was written in cursive with a little heart added at the end. I open the letter basically ripping it off. In the process I ended up cutting my finger.

Dear Lilith, 

I sure do miss you a lot! I hope you are doing well! So as you may know I'm on the trip. I miss you so much good thing you weren't here.

I would of end up killing you too.

Look by now you should know I was the one who killed the students. Trust me I didn't want to do it. She made me do it. You've seen her too. She love's you. She thinks of you as her child. That dream, she is choosing you now. I'm so glad we met because, if we didn't my family would still have this curse. Now I give it to you. Now my family doesn't have to endure this cruse anymore. I'm sorry, but I just can't deal with this cruse anymore. So when I end my life and with the other students it will come to you. It will start with nightmares, then it will kill everything around unless you know how not to be afraid of it. 

Your best friend Emily. 

My heart race faster then ever as sweat drip down my face. Pure terror stuck me like an arrow. Did she really cause the bus to crash? Why? What did she mean by cruse? No, no, she is playing a trick on me or I'm really just in a dream? I look up from the letter to be faced with reality. My friend lifeless body staring directly at the TV. Her body was covered in blood and glass. There was one glass that stuck out of her neck. If she had to be precise that glass pierced through her vocal cords. The longer she stared at the TV the longer Emily's smile grew.

"She is coming for you" My mom whispered. I looked up at my mom who was still talking to someone on the phone. If it wasn't my mom who said that. Who said it? Why would she do this? I bet she is lying to me. The date! She wouldn't do this if the letter was found with her body. The killer must be taunting me.

My blood soak into the letter. I take a look at the envelope that came with the letter.

"April 4, 2004, a week before the trip was announced to the 5th graders." No, she planned everything, this was her hand writing. This was her letter. This was her curse.

Maybe, just maybe, if I went I could have died with them. That would of been better.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and I do have other dreams so, if you wanna hear more you can like this post.... Or not. Up to you.

[atinywriting]

Bloody Pen | Wooyoung Serial Killer AU Chapter 3

Arrival of the Detective

“Gut Punch. On the rocks, please.” In the Starlight Bar, at the front of the counter sat the homicidal detective, Hongjoong. It was midnight, so not many people were around. It was peaceful and quiet. He had hoped for another relaxing night with a drink until his phone rang noisily throughout the tranquil bar. He huffed, grumbling as he reached into his pocket for his phone. He was about to hang up but immediately noticed the name that popped up. He answered the phone. “Yes, Seonghwa?” “Hongjoong, a 55-A in R3 has occurred. Your assistance at the scene is required.” “Alright.” Hongjoong sighed. He pulled the phone away from himself. “Bartender? Make this one a double too,” he ordered quietly as possible. “Hongjoong, are you drinking again?” Seonghwa asked, flabbergasted. Hongjoong groaned. God damn it, Seonghwa heard. And now, he was going to incessantly nag at him. Again. “Kim Hongjoong. How many times have I told you—“ “I know you have good intentions. But,” Hongjoong scowled at the phone. “You’re not my mother. And I can handle my liquor, thank you very much,” he muttered sarcastically. He hung up the phone before Seonghwa could protest even more. Hongjoong seized the glass as soon as it was placed down by the bartender. He gulped it down in one shot and slammed the cup down. He blinked his eyes as the cold, strong bitter taste punched through his sluggish state. Well, now he was more awake.

After tossing a bill on the counter, Hongjoong drove to Lille Forest. He stopped in front of the police vehicles blocking the path. He grabbed his camera, notepad and pen and stepped out of his car. He held his badge up. “Detective Kim Hongjoong reporting in.” After a quick look, the cop nodded and let him through. As Hongjoong walked through the forest, he wrote down a few quick assumptions. It had rained two days prior so all traces of blood would have been washed away and diluted. Body temperature most likely would not be the leading factor of the time of death, considering the fluctuations of the weather in the recent days. Hongjoong finally reached the area surrounded by yellow tape and he stepped over it. Immediately, he noticed, the body was fresh. As mangled as it was, there were no signs of the exposed skin turning black. There were no smells of gases that usually emanated from a corpse that had been around for a while. Judging by the victim’s horrified, pained face, Hongjoong could rule out death by hanging upside down (which normally resulted in heart failure or asphyxiation). The victim had died as a result of the various wounds inflicted onto him. Whether it be the cut into the neck or the blood loss that finally did him in. In front of the hanging corpse was a man clad in a protective suit. He wore multiple layers of gloves and wore shoe covers. Goggles and a mask covered his face. The man carefully picked at the maggots and parts of the flesh with tweezers. Hongjoong didn’t even need to ask who it was. He’d be surprised if it was someone else. “Long time no see, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung dropped the maggots and bits of flesh into the maggot pouch in the plastic cup. After doing so, he turned to Hongjoong and cheerfully waved. “Hello again!” Hongjoong had been working with Wooyoung for a long time. Throughout multiple cases Hongjoong worked on and solved, Wooyoung was often the representative sent to examine the bodies and help with the forensic side of the investigation. As a result, the two had formed somewhat of a close bond with each other over the years. “Wooyoung, what would you say is your initial assessment of the body?” Wooyoung replied instantly, “There are no other bugs here then the blowflies and maggots. So more than 24 hours have passed since the person has died. The body possibly could have been here for three days max.” “Any signs of wounds other than obvious ones?” “There are no obvious signs of blunt force trauma if that’s what you’re asking. We’re going to have to take him into the lab later if we want to see more.” Alright. Perhaps the victim was convinced to come here by someone, was tied up and killed. Or maybe drugged, then brought here. Upon a second look, Hongjoong took notice of the way the body was arranged. An electric cord had been used and the body was tied up in a peculiar way. The victim was hanging from his right foot, which was bound to the tree branch. The left leg was free but bent at the knee and tucked in behind his right leg in a tied knot. His arms were bent and his hands were held behind his back, forming an inverted triangle. In fact, the formation looked familiar? Hongjoong cocked his head to the side and scanned over the corpse again. Nothing came to his mind at the moment, but he quickly took a picture and noted the observation down. “Was there any form of identification on him?” Wooyoung shook his head. “We’re going to have to send hair strands and blood if we want to identify him.” Unknown for now, Hongjoong scribbled into his notepad. Either the victim lived in this town or was brought here from somewhere else. Hongjoong continued to take photos of the scene at every angle he could as he circled around the tree. As soon as he reached the back of the tree, an object caught his attention. It was a puppet doll. The strings attached to the doll was hung around nails. The puppet doll was posed as if it were sitting slumped against the tree. A piece of paper stuck out from the back of it. He snapped a picture and called out to Wooyoung. “Do you have any more gloves and plastic bags?” “In my bag, in front of the yellow tape!” Hongjoong walked over and picked out a pair of rubber gloves and plastic bag. He carefully moved the doll with one hand and slipped the piece of paper out. He put the doll back in its place and he turned the note over. She wanted her beauty to be immortalized just like the doll. Hongjoong furrowed his brow at the words. He placed the note in the bag and sealed it up. Evidence, he labeled. He’d figured out what it meant later. “Wooyoung, would the people who found the scene initially happen to still be here?” “I believe so. The pair should be at the front. One of them looked pretty traumatized though. Poor him.” Thanking Wooyoung, Hongjoong left. Sure enough the two were sitting on the side of the road. The cop was patting the other on the back as the other was curled up into a ball and stared at the road. Ah, the one patting the other was Jeong Yunho. Hongjoong remembered a few cases he worked with him. Yunho, as far as he remembered, was like an energetic puppy. He wasn’t close to Yunho, but Yunho was friendly and didn’t hold a bad bone in him whatsoever. Hongjoong eyed the one curled into a ball. He caught a glimpse of the badge. Choi Jongho, it read. An unfamiliar face and most likely a rookie if he looked this shocked. Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Yunho.” Yunho turned to him and his eye widened. “Detective Kim!” Hongjoong nodded. “What happened before you found the body?” “There was a note.” Hongjoong and Yunho looked at Jongho. Jongho had finally pulled his paled face out from his arms and he took a deep breath. “The note said something would happen today.” Hongjoong asked, “Do you remember what the note said?” Jongho shook his head. “Not the exact details. But Chief should have the note.” Hongjoong turned to Yunho. “May I radio in to Seonghwa?” Yunho nodded and handed Hongjoong the radio. “Seonghwa, this is Hongjoong. I’m asking about the note you received a few days ago. Tell me everything.” After Seonghwa explained and read out the note, Hongjoong requested Seonghwa to read and describe each individual word was written. Once Hongjoong copied all down into his notepad, his eyes widened. No wonder the way the body was posed looked familiar. “There’s a reason why certain letters were capitalized and some were not,” Hongjoong started. “Each starting word with a capitalized first letter of each sentence spelled out a specific threat. Drawn. Early. An. The. Here.” He paused briefly. “Tell me what the first letter of each word spells out together.” There was a moment of silence before a surprised shout boomed from the radio. “It spells out DEATH! It was a warning letter that they were going to kill someone.” Hongjoong nodded. “The note said ‘Drawn from the deck is 12’ and you said ‘pendu’ in pendulum was oddly all capitalized, right?” “Correct.” Hongjoong explained, “Le ‘pendu’ is French for the Hanged Man. It is the 12th tarot card in the deck that depicts a man hanging upside down from his right foot from a tree. It was hinting towards how we would find the body.” Hongjoong could tell how stunned Seonghwa was on the other end on how quiet he had become. “What… Who on Earth are we dealing with?” Seonghwa muttered in a hushed tone. Hongjoong eyed down at the bag with the recently found note in it. What looked like an innocent piece of paper moments ago had now become a chilling letter of a threat. A calling card for another to die. Thoughts swirled in his mind. A shiver ran through him as he stared down at the note. What did the note mean? Was the way the doll posed the way they would find the next person dead? It was clear at this point, that whoever wrote this, they thought this was a game. The killer was challenging them, taunting them.   And those kinds of killers were the most dangerous of all.

[delicatelyherdreams]

How Could I Let This Happen

Paring: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After the events of a fight during the Second World War, you are left in a coma and Bucky can’t find the will to leave you alone.

Warnings: Angsty and sad Bucky

Word Count: 1453

—————————————

Bucky sat in the hard plastic chair in the make-shift hospital tent out in the middle of the German countryside. He’d sat there for God knew how long, missing training and meetings, and even some invasions, but he figured the army could do without him for a bit. And besides, there was no way that he would leave her alone, not his (y/n).

The girl in question lay on the cot with cords and tubes extending from her pale and lifeless skin. The heart monitor beeped steadily besides her. It was ironic in a way; the medic needing medical attention.

How many times had their rolls been switched? Where Bucky hand been in the bed with all the bumps and bruises and scratches while (y/n) had been on the chair tending to his wounds? When she was scolding him about getting involved in the fights and the like? When he would always remind her that he did it for her? He couldn’t even count them all.

Back home, before the war, before the fighting and bloodshed, the two were inseparable. She always found a way to get in to trouble while he had always found ways to get her out.

As Bucky sat on his chair he reviewed times over the years they had spent together in situations like this.

When they were eleven, and she had tried to stop some boys from abusing a stray dog in an alley way, he had been with her to take the blows from the two who were much bigger than either of them. As the boys had left, (y/n) had helped her friend home and laid up in bed, cursing him slightly for getting involved and going on about how “she could’ve handled it.” He had found it best not to point out that, at the time, she had no muscle and would’ve been broken as quickly as a toothpick.

A few years after that incident, she was nearly in another fight that he had to take her from. This go around some boys from the school were mocking her and Bucky’s sickly friend Steve Rogers for his inability to do typical boy things. Bucky had never seen such stubbornness from her before as both he and Steve had tried to pull her away from the fight with her refusing and continuing to verbally assault the bullies. Bucky read the danger signs in their body language and, after making sure Steve was out of the way, he promptly wrapped his arms around her waist and carried her off and away from getting beaten up. He held her fast despite her wriggling and cursing and only let her go when they were a safe distance away. She huffed at him. “I was handling that thank you very much.” He smiled. “You were asking for trouble is what you were doing, doll.” She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated, causing him to laugh, which only ticked her off more. But she got over it when he bought her some ice cream.

As she grew older, she lost some of her stubbornness, learning when enough was enough, but she still had a knack for attracting trouble. In her late teens she had once again found herself in a spot of trouble when she was walking home from her friend’s house late at night and was cornered by thugs wanting to take what little she had on her. It was her lucky day that Bucky had been in the area and heard her pleas for help. He had gone to her as quick as possible, pushing past anyone who stood in the way of him helping her. And when he arrived he fought the men three against one. They had decided that (y/n) wasn’t worth the trouble after Bucky had take out one and a half of them and left, but not leaving her hero unscathed. With a swollen eye, fat lip, and a limp, Bucky escorted her home where she cleaned his cuts and iced his bruises all while lecturing him, “James Buchanan Barnes, I have never seen such careless action from anyone in my entire life. Do you know how...” He didn’t think he should remind her that he was only protecting her, and instead let her play doctor while he just sat there thankful that she got out with no injuries.

She was always in danger, he would always get her out. He was always getting hurt, she would always patch him up. Everything they did, they did together, perfectly counteracting the other to create balance. So it only made sense that, when he enlisted as a soldier, she enlisted as a medic.

The two managed to find ways to stay together. When he was shipped off to join the 107th, she went with him as the squadron’s field medic. At the base or during the lulls in the battle, they’d sit together, discussing what’d they’d do when they got home. She wanted to get a house, start a family, settle down. He did care what he did so long as he was with her.

As battles raged around Bucky and the others on the battlefield, she would dart in and out; retrieving the wounded or doing quick patch up jobs, sometimes giving pain meds or little things to boost their spirits. Bucky would always watch out for her, sometimes being forced to tackle her to the ground as a new wave of fire erupted over the barricade in front of them. “(y/n), you have to be more careful,” he’d hiss to her over the sounds of the fight. She’d always smile up at him, her (e/c) eyes twinkling. “But I have you, Bucky. You’ve always got my back.”

Until he didn’t.

That battle hadn’t been anything they hadn’t gone through before. Guns were blazing and the land erupted with every impact. Bucky lay crouched behind a pile of dirt as he frantically reloaded his weapon time after time, trying to get enough clearing to run over to find (y/n) and make sure she was alright. His blue eyes searched frantically for her small figure and finally, he found her tending to a fallen not too far away.

She was calling for back up from her fellow medics when she saw Bucky. Her face immediately melted into a relieved expression and she opened her mouth. As her soft lips began to form his name, a single shot rang out against all the chaos. From the enemy’s launcher, a grenade landed merely feet away from (y/n) and her patient. She did’t have time to run, and he didn’t have time to save her.

The gernade went off, throwing her yards away from the impact site. Disregarding everything, Bucky had rushed to her side, checking for a pulse that dodnt seem to be there, begging her to wake up. The other medics pried her away from him as they rushed her back towards the ambulances that would take her to base. Bucky started helplessly after them, tears streaming down his face creating paths through the dirt on his cheeks and he prayed. He prayed to whatever higher being there was out there that she would be okay, that she would make it back to him.

When he returned to base he immediately ran to the hospital where he had been told she was in stable condition. But they didn’t tell him that “stable” really meant “in a coma.” When his eyes fell on her weak form, with cuts all over her face, bandages covering her body, and various tubes sticking out of her flesh, he collapsed into the chair next to her bed and that‘s where he stayed.

He didn’t cry, he couldn’t cry, he had no more tears. Instead he just sat by her side, waiting for her, talking to her, hoping that as each day passed he was one closer to her waking up, looking at him with those (e/c) eyes he had come to love, smacking his hand away for trying to mess with her (h/c) hair, talking to him with the voice he could never get enough of.

With each day he sat there wondering to himself why he couldn’t save her when he had done so so many times before. Wondering why this was the time he was helpless rather than when she had gotten into a less fatal fight in the school yard. Wondering how he could’ve let this happen to her when’s he had told himself that he would always be there to protect her.

He squeezed her hand as he bowed his head. “Please, (y/n). Please wake up. I need you,” he whispered to her sleeping form. “Come back to me.”

[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

Yandere! Googlepliers x chubby reader

Warning: GORE.

Chaos.

So much burning.

Smoldering, smoky buildings, streets covered in bloody corpses. A woman's head twisted at an odd angle, her eyes ice cubes as they stared at you, her mouth opened into a frozen scream.

Walking down the road, you shuddered, holding yourself, almost as if trying not to fall apart.

Your foot steps echoed, bouncing off alleyways and jagged skyscrapers, whose metal interiors now exposed, reminded you of broken bones. Blood littered the streets like bright red watercolor, while organs, scattered like rose petals and party streamers, lay exposed on grey sidewalks and hung from lamp posts.

Gagging, your breathing grew heavier as you turned a corner, seeing a baby's head hanging by its spinal cord like a twisted piñata from a store front, it's eyeball clinging onto a pink string as it dangled from its eye socket.

Oh.. oh.. oh god.

No, no, your boys— couldn't.. couldn't do this!

You ran past the store, and ran past an apartment building. You ran past an alleyway, a library, caught in the maze. Trapped like a rat. Turning left and right frantically.

They couldn't do this.

          They couldn't do this.

They changed,

          they changed.

You kept passing dead bodies. The smell of burning metal and flesh haunted the air. The streets covered in a blanket of broken glass, and the buildings that remained intact almost had all broken windows and doors. Cars had been turned upside down and squashed like a wads of construction paper.

Everything silent.

Except for the eerie and distant noise of sirens, echoing throughout the city. You didn't notice at first. Too caught up in the violence. Now, you heard them, and ran towards them.

        Your boys couldn't do this.

The boys who loved blue and green and red and yellow. Whose colors always reminded you of wildflowers.

         They couldn't.

Prime, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Oliver, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Rowan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Conan, who you loved with all your heart couldn't do this.

Running, you turned a corner, getting closer to the noise. Where is everybody? Could they really murder an entire population? They couldn't— could they?

Desperate, you pushed yourself faster. You passed a man with his chest gouged out. Someone had their hands torn off and stuck up their— you wished you hadn't seen that.

A girl lay crumpled on the side walk, her pigtails pulled off, and her face smashed in.

Too many bodies to count.

All of them, chopped up like vegetables, and torn up like dolls in the jaws of a dog.

So much violence. So much destruction.

The sirens screamed for you to keep running. Why did you stop, they asked. You hadn't even noticed you stopped, until you heard your breathing, and felt you legs shaking like plates stacked too high, your whole body ready to break.

You stopped right in front of the little girl, staring at her carnage.

You caused this.

You gave them admin permission, or whatever it was called— you gave them autonomy! And they waited, they waited and bid time and gained your trust, waited till you loved them, till you let your guard down. Then, like a viper, they bit.

Sinking to your knees, the sirens faded as your breathing increased, filling your ears.

You touched the body, it was stiff, cold.

The skin was an odd color, and maggots crawled in every crevice— in her nose, where they twisted, a hive feasting on her flesh.

How long had she been here?

How long had they all been here? You looked around, and touched her again, squeezing her arm. It wouldn't move. Rigor mortis.

Then, you went down, and squeezed her leg. The whole body stiff. Every inch. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized— these bodies had been here for around six hours. Yes, you remembered, rigor completely set in after six hours.. why did you know that? Some class from high school? A book? A documentary?

Panic set in more as you got up, and staggered towards the noise.

   They couldn't do this.

Prime, who loved technology and loved to study space, couldn't do this.

Oliver, who loved to study psychology and how humans worked couldn't do this.

Rowan, who read so many books, going through them in hours, couldn't do this.

Conan, who loved to study biology and evolution couldn't do this.

Your boys, your loves, couldn't do this.

They couldn't.

They couldn't.

They couldn't.

They couldn't.

Your shoulders shook as you entered the center of town, full of cafés, bookshops, tea shops, and cute ritzy restaurants all covered in dried blood. People lay dead on chairs, and some held books, others held shopping bags, or cell phones.. all of them stopped. Frozen in time. Like a clock who's gears got stopped up with ice.

The sirens loomed closer, and, taking another glance at the bodies, you continued walking.

You passed a green and white bookstore, you took a turn down a street, full of bodies, bodies stuffed together like sardines. So much blood. Blood the color of rust and bricks. It scattered everywhere. Everywhere, every street sign and store front. No one was spared.

You continued further, legs shaking, throat dry.

The sirens screamed louder. Bursting like red and blue fireworks in your ears. You saw the police cars, white covered in scarlet, in dead bodies.

So many.

Heads twisted, noses punched in, stomachs full of holes.

You couldn't call out their names, you couldn't. They scared you too much. Each name a monster, shadows that cut.

Your boys couldn't have done this.

Shakily, walking closer to the carnage, you leaned on a police car, panicking. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked slowly. Corpses bleeding into your eyes as you heard the buzzing of flies.

    You screamed.

             You collapsed.

                        More bodies.

Corpses piled up in a heap, you saw your boys, dragging the corpses, like stiff statues, across the pavement.

They turned towards you, eyes wide as they dropped bodies.

"Darling?" Asked Oliver, yellow as a sunflower, and soft as one as he stepped towards you.