#i could abandon everything and go live naked in the trees

[partoftheairforce]

im twentyfree 😿

[multific]

All You Wanted

Ultimate Predator x Reader

Read Part 1 here. Part 3

Warnings: human x alien relationship, incorrect description of pregnancy and birth 

Summary: Maybe being pregnant wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but having your strong and big mate close did help.

You felt so sick at times you couldn't even move.

You felt so sick at times you couldn't even eat.

If it wasn't for the huge Yautja telling you that you need to eat something, you wouldn't have.

You know he was worried.

He liked to plan everything ahead. It is what he was created for after all, to plan and to execute. 

And as your pregnancy progressed, it became more and more difficult to plan. As your belly began to show, you grew weaker. You could barely sleep or move.

But you weren't broken. Oh, not one bit. You knew you needed to be strong for both of you. You wanted this child more than anything.

You were glad that your Mate often checked your and the baby's health. It at least gave you an idea of what was going on, he also tried to explain everything simply so you would understand.

Then, one day, almost everything changed.

You started to crave the food you couldn't keep down for weeks. Your energy was back and you could sleep a lot easier.

It was strange, but you didn't complain. 

Then one evening.

"I wish to be in water." you said suddenly and you could tell the translator had issues.

He looked at you before pointing at the shower.

"No. I need a lake or something." Lake. On that planet? You must have gone insane.

But there was a small pond close by.

He found it not too long ago when looking around the planet. His dog kept you company while he left.

And so, when you requested for water, he brought you there.

You wanted to enter as soon as you arrived but he put up an arm, stopping you.

He entered the water, and soon you understood why he stopped you. He was waist-deep in. Which meant the water had to be very deep, thankfully you did know how to swim. 

While he knew the water wasn't toxic, he checked if there were any creatures living in there which could hurt you.

You had a rather comfortable cloth wrapped around you, you usually slept in that but you thought it would be better not to be naked in the water. Even if there were no creatures on this abandoned planet.

When he found nothing, he put his arm up, you took his hand as he lifted you towards him, slowly, he eased you into the water.

It was cold, which did make you hiss a little, it made him flinch as he pulled you back up out of the water. You placed a hand on his shoulder, letting him know it was okay, and so, he put you back into the water.

As you slowly swam around, thankful for the water and how easy it made your movement.

He walked out of the pond, clicking something to the dog as it sat up. You watched as he walked away. You assumed he had to check on something.

You were leaning against the stone when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You turned and saw your mate, moving to join you hopefully. 

"It is a lot better like this." you told him as he sat down behind you across the small pond. "The little one keeps moving and I can't get comfortable though." You knew he wouldn't understand, you didn't have any means of translation. 

You turned back, and with your back to him, you moved slightly, leaning against the ground.

Your mate slowly got back into the water as he walked over to you, slowly pulling you closer to his chest. One hand on your belly as he moved you. 

"Thank you." you said with a slight groan as you felt another kick against your husband's hand.

The yautja slowly turned you in the water. 

You slowly moved in the water, feeling weightless. You placed your hand on top of his hand which rested on your belly. 

You felt the little one move and by the twinkle in his eye, so did he.

You smiled as you looked around, you weren't outside the home that often, while the planet did have many trees, or at least what you would call trees, and plants, it was fully abandoned. Noone lived there only the creatures which roamed the green planet. 

This planet was a lot like your mate, you noted.

This planet reminded you a lot of the elements, survival of the fittest and your mate was certainly that, a survivor.

An outcast but still a strong male.

You slowly relaxed against him as he held you. His rough skin actually felt really good against yours. You often found yourself running your fingers down his scales. 

Suddenly, he moved you to his other side as he walked to one side of the pond. He let go of you, leaving you there as you watched him walk across before turning. He put on his hands out, motioning for you to go to him, to swim.

"Alright." you simply said as you slowly started to swim to him, although you were tired, it did feel nice to move a little. Each time you reached him, he moved to the other side, or while you were swimming, he moved and you followed. You really enjoyed the water moving around you as you swam. You could tell it also calmed your little one.  

Once your little work out, was completed, he scooped you up and walked back to the house.

You let him change your clothes before he put you to bed.

---

You had a suspicion that your pregnancy wouldn't take nine months.

Deep down, you were preparing every passing day. 

Yet, somehow, you were still not ready when the pains started.

There was no point in hiding it, you were about to give birth. You might not be ready, but your baby and your body certainly felt like you were.

Not even the pain was the worst part.

Not even the fact that you were about to give birth to a completely different species. It was the fear of you doing something wrong and it would affect the baby in a way you can't correct.

It is all you could think about as your mate hooks you up to all these machines. You heard two heart beats, your own and the baby's.

He even gave you some pain killers. Making sure you were comfortable before you had to start pushing.

You lost a lot of blood during giving birth. You fainted in and out of consciousness twice before he hooked you up to another machine. 

The third time, you heard cries before fainting, knowing you did it, you gave birth to a little boy and you could finally rest, it was as if your body shut down.

You woke up hours later.

It was so quiet and you were back on your huge bed, covered in furs.

You were so disoriented you didn't know what was happening. For a second you panicked when you didn't feel your baby bump anymore.

Then you noticed something in the room with you.

Not too far from you was the small bed which he made during your pregnancy. 

And in it was your babe, sleeping. You looked around, but couldn't find your mate.

You slowly moved in the bed, everything hurt but you needed to see the little one.

You slowly stood up, falling back on the bed as your legs could barely hold you, you nearly groaned out in pain that hit your abdomen. But you still wanted to see the little baby.

So, you tried again.

This time, you were able to stand but your legs were shaking as you couldn't take a step.

The little crib was so close to you, yet so far.

So, you needed a plan.

You moved back on the bed, shuffling as close to the little bed as you could before standing, this time you were able to catch a glimpse.

Your little one was sleeping on his belly. From what you could see he looked more alien than human.

You did fear you would give birth to a creature so bizarre, but from what you can see, his little face looked just like your mate's. 

His sight gave you some confidence as you were able to take a step closer, then another before finally arriving to the crib.

And there he was.

Beautiful little one. Rather big but he looked healthy. And you knew if he wasn't he probably wasn't sleeping here with you. You placed your hand on the crib before slowly walking back to the bed behind you. Positioning it right next to you so you could take a better look at him as you sat down.

You wanted to hold him. Your arms were itching to hold him but you couldn't wake him. 

Instead, you put your fingers through the bars and ran them down his little back.

He had scaly skin, and adorable little mandibles, he already looked annoyed much like an older version of a yautja and yet he looked so amazingly cute. 

You wondered if he had the same yellow eyes you had grown to love.

You wondered what, if any, human did he have in him. He certainly didn't look human. 

But he didn't have claws. Or at least not yet. his little fingers found yours as they wrapped them around yours. 

You counted all five, five little fingers and five little toes. 

Then he flinched a little before slowly waking.

You watched in awe. And something in you switched. 

All your long nights of worry, fearing if you would be a good mother if you knew what your baby needed, all boiled down to right here and right now.

He was about to cry, you knew he was.

Your body moved on its own, slowly lifting him out of the crib and putting him against your chest.

Slowly bouncing him as you kissed his forehead. He calmed down rather quickly. Not even making a sound as you moved in the bed. You moved to sit up against the pillows and be a little more comfortable.

Now that you had him in your arms.

You had a feeling Yautja women didn't raise their children this way. But you were no yautja.

You wondered how you would be able to feed him, given his mandibles were small and he had no teeth, maybe it wouldn't be a problem.

Then the door to your bedroom hissed open and there he stood.

Your eyes locked with his as he stopped in the doorway.

For just a second you worried you weren't supposed to take the babe from his crib but then you saw it in his eyes, it wasn't that.

He clicked something and the translator that he installed in the home did the trick.

"How are you feeling?"

"A lot better now that I am holding him." he waited a second for the translation before nodding. The door closed behind him as he walked over to the bed. Slowly sitting down next to you.

His huge frame didn't scare you anymore. You fit right next to him like a puzzle. He moved one of his arms behind you, pulling you to him as he looked down at you and the little one.

"Is he healthy?" you asked and he nodded.

"Strong, healthy and cried his eyes out to be with you." he said. "It isn't true yautja custom. You having to hold him. Most don't hold their children, while others do. It is to ensure the son is strong warrior." he said.

"I will hold him until I can't because he is too big." you said.

"I figured. I know human traditions. You hold him, feed him and love him. More than yautja does."

"He is beautiful." you said looking down at your sleeping child.

"He has your eyes. Human DNA inside him, but Yautja DNA more permanent, it is why he looks more like me."

"I don't mind. As long as he is healthy." upon hearing you say that, he tightened his grip around you a little bit.

"I'm proud." 

"You should be, you have a son."

"No, proud of you. Human gave birth to Yautja, strong one."

"I had good DNA to mix with mine, you said smiling up at him."

He soon let you lay back as you slowly fell asleep. You placed your baby back into his crib before moving back to your favourite position, being the little spoon as his huge body wrapped around you like a second blanket.

This was your life know, with your mate and son.

And you wouldn't change it for a thing.

After all, this is all you ever wanted.

Part 3 

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[catt-leya]

Shades Of Christmas Blue (18+) || Rick Grimes

All I have to say is MERRY CHRISTMAS🎄

Summary: Rick's helping you to decorate the christmas tree....and more...

Trigger: spanking, dirty talk, choking (?),...

'Santa honey, one little thing I really need' booms from the old CD player you found in an abandoned school some time ago and you almost jumped around in circles with joy because the batteries in it still worked, only to find an old Christmas CD that now brings you even more joy than the do cookies that are in the oven and the decorations that you attach to the kitchen counter.

With hips swinging, you dance around the kitchen, not even noticing Rick, with whom you share the house, walk in the door and stop, rooted to the spot.

Snow hangs in his hair but he doesn't even think to shake the flakes out of it as he watches you dance around the kitchen in an oversized Christmas sweater and bare legs, hoping with every sway of your hips that your sweater will ride up far enough so he can see your pretty butt.

At least, he's always imagining how nice your bare butt would be. Not that he ever gets to see it.

No.

You're not that kind of friends, but that doesn't stop him from thinking about your butt.

The snow melts on his clothes from the warmth in the house, and he lets the water just pool on the floor as you sing along loudly to 'Been an awful good girl,' leaning forward to stick a red bow on the wood of the kitchen counter.

It makes Rick feel like a stalker, but he can't help staring at your bare thighs, wishing he could push them apart as you bend forward waiting for him.

The fact that his pants are getting tighter snaps him out of his rigidity and he clears his throat loud enough for you to hear him over the loud music as well.

At this small sound, you jump up startled and turn to your drenched roommate, "Oh, you're here already."

Actually, you thought you'd be done with the decorations and cookies before Rick would be back from his run with Daryl, but now he's standing in front of you, staring at you like you are thinking to kiss Walker would be a great idea.

You see Rick let his gaze roam the house and his eyes linger on the naked Christmas tree with boxes of decorations on the floor in front of it, "You...decorate?"

You're not sure what Rick would think of the idea of decorating the house and celebrating Christmas at least to a point, so you just didn't tell him, thinking to yourself, 'What's he going to do if everything is already up? Take everything down again?'

So you waited until he left this morning and put your plan into action.

Even the tree you have shipped with difficulty in your living room and set up.

So you take a breath and then smile broadly at him, "Yeah right. I have to admit I don't know exactly when Christmas would be, but it's crazy cold outside so I figured I might be close to the actual date."

Slowly he looks at you again, "You...want to celebrate Christmas?"

His eyebrows almost disappear under the hair that falls into his forehead and you cross your arms protectively in front of your chest, "Why not? You're not forced to join in, but I also hope you don't mind that I've brought a little Christmas spirit into the house here."

You're so much smaller than he is, and the way you stand there defiantly in front of him with your arms crossed just looks cute to him.

Never could he refuse you anything, especially when you look up at him with huge eyes and quietly ask, "Can I bribe you with cookies?"

He blinks several times before saying harshly, "You don't have to bribe me. You're allowed to do whatever you want with the house and if you want to celebrate Christmas, you're welcome to do that too. I would never mind if you enjoy it."

Surprised that he wouldn't mind at all, you don't know what to say and he lowers his gaze to your bare legs.

"Did you think I was going to make you clean it all up?" still looking at your legs, you feel his gaze on every patch of bare skin and you cross your legs so you don't feel quite so exposed.

This small movement draws Rick's gaze back to your face and you could swear he's blushing, although it could also be because he's come in from the bitter cold to the warmth.

Still unable to bring a word to your lips, you sigh in relief when you hear the soft 'pling' from the oven and turn your back on Rick to walk over to the oven.

As soon as you stop looking at him with your beautiful eyes, he finally gets enough oxygen back into his lungs and he takes a deep breath, "I'm going to take a quick shower. Then I'll help you with the tree."

Your hand is just resting on the handle of the oven when you first understand what he said and whirl around. With your mouth open, you stare at his back as he walks up the stairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

Decorating a tree as a couple is a lot more fun, of course, but you never thought Rick was the type to do that.

You had a faint hope that he would tolerate the decorations, but that he would be so...helpful...you didn't see coming.

Because you have no idea how long Rick would be in the shower, you hurry to put the warm cookies in a bowl and clean up a bit in the kitchen.

Even in the shower, Rick can hear you moving plates and bowls and can't help but smile. Your good mood is contagious and he hurries to get back to you as quickly as possible.

In the process, he almost slips twice and bumps his elbow incredibly painfully on the door of the shower.

You're setting a small bowl of cookies on the coffee table when Rick comes down the stairs in sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, and you smile warmly at him, "Would you like a cookie?"

You look so incredibly beautiful in the candlelight that Rick briefly forgets how to walk properly and misses the last step of the stairs.

He stumbles and catches himself just in time before he would have landed face down on the wooden floor.

Actually, he's not that clumsy, but today you distract him especially and you don't even know it.

Concerned, you take a small step toward him, "Are you okay?"

He waves it off, knowing full well that his cheeks are burning.

Rick hates how awkward he keeps being around you, even though he hasn't been since he was in his teens, and he especially hates that he's incredibly shy about telling you he likes you.

Quietly, he clears his throat and you take a step to the side so he can walk past you to the fir tree and the cookies.

As he walks past you, you pass the vanillie shower gel you once found and for some time Rick has been using it too.

You share a lot of things around the house without really talking about it beforehand and it only makes your life together more harmonious.

Rick stops next to you and stuffs a cookie into his mouth. 

Groaning, he rolls his eyes, "Fuck, you're really good at this."

You stare at his profile and your mind suddenly flits to whole new regions at his words, eliciting a soft whimper.

Startled, you slap a hand over your mouth and Rick looks at you from the side with a raised eyebrow, "What was that about?"

Unwillingly, your eyes are glued to his mouth, "Nothing...it wasn't..."

Sometimes you just look at him and you can't stop thinking about how beautiful he is and all he has done for your group.

You look from his lips, up his cheekbones to his eyes, which flicker in shades of blue in the candlelight, and murmur softly, "You're beautiful."

His eyebrows go up at your words, and when he sees you blush at the confession, he bites his lower lip. You're standing so close to each other that all he has to do is reach out and brush a strand from your face, making his heart race, "And you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

With shining eyes you look up at him and it would be very easy for him to lean forward and just put his lips on yours.

So easy to taste you on his tongue.

But he doesn't and instead takes a step back from you, "How would you like to decorate the tree?"

You shrug your shoulders and answer in a rough voice, "Let's just use the stuff I collected. It doesn't really matter what it looks like in the end, as long as we have fun decorating it. That's what matters in the end."

Slowly he nods and you begin to unpack the decorations and ornaments.

With Christmas music playing in the background, you decorate the tree together and you keep looking over at him.

He looks so relaxed as he puts up the little snowflakes and you can't stop smiling as you look at his gray beard, which looks almost completely white in the light.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices your gaze and hangs another snowflake, "Do I have something on my face?"

Grinning, you reach out and stroke his cheek, "Nah, I was just thinking that with a costume and a pillow for a belly, you could pass for Santa too."

In a low voice he laughs out, "If you think Santa is hot, then maybe it's a compliment."

Gently patting his cheek, you then reach for the decoration for the top as you laugh softly, "Santa is ultra hot."

With the last piece for the tree, you look up knowing full well you'll never reach the crown, so you look to Rick for help, "Rick?"

He looks from the ornament in your hand to the crown, then grumbles, "You want me to do it?"

You quickly shake your head and nudge him with your shoulder, "Nonsense. I want to do that. Can you lift me up?"

Rick spreads his arms, "Sure, but then don't complain if I lose my balance and we end up knocking the tree over."

Playfully you roll your eyes, "Yes Daddy."

And right now, his dick is hard.

He didn't know he'd think it was hot to be called that, but the way your mouth formed the words and that defiant look from you makes fantasies run before his eyes that he should be ashamed of.

You take a step toward him and he grabs your hip to turn you in his arms and lift you up, scrupulously making sure your ass is as far away from his hardening cock as possible.

As soon as his hands touch your hips, you're already regretting asking him to do it.

You feel the heat radiating from him and you take a small step closer to him, but he digs his fingers harder into your hips and murmurs, "Don't."

Your heart beats fast in your chest and you lower your eyes to the decoration in your hands, "Okay. Lift me up."

You would love to snuggle up to him and feel his chest against your back, but you allow him to just lift you a bit and you place the top on the tree.

Gently, he sets you back down on your feet and you turn to him, smiling: "Thank you."

Because you didn't back away, you're standing just a few inches in front of him, and you have to crane your head back to look him in the face.

Rick, too, is frozen in place, looking down at you.

The lights from the tree wrap you in a kind of halo and the gratitude in your eyes melts his heart.

When you lift your small hand and place it on his cheek, his breath catches.

His beard scrapes across your palm and you think of how it might feel between your legs.

How he could push your legs apart with his beautiful shoulders and you would get nothing but his name past your lips.

How his blue eyes would glisten with excitement and he would sink into you.

Your cheeks begin to glow with arousal and you ask in a raspy voice, "What do you want for Christmas, Rick?"

Your hand slides over his neck and then to his shoulder, where it comes to rest and he realizes how he is already harder than he has ever been in his life just from this innocent touch of yours.

As if through a veil he perceives your question and he brings "I want nothing" over his lips.

He hardly recognizes his own voice and almost groans out loud when you overcome the few centimeters that separate you and he can feel your soft breasts on his body with every breath. 

Again you look at him with huge eyes and whisper softly, "And if you could have it all? What would you want?"

For a brief moment he just looks at you and you think you've already gone too far, when he whispers softly, "If I could have anything I want, I want...you."

You can't even tell how you got from the point where you were nervous that he would come home and hate Christmas to the point where you stand on your tiptoes and softly breathe, "Then take me."

For a brief moment Rick hesitates, thinking he's going to hallucinate, but when you press your lips to his, he's sure it's not just another dream.

No, you are flesh and blood in front of him and put your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

The tension from his body releases and he moans softly into the kiss.

Countless times he has dreamed of kissing you and letting his hands wander to your ass. 

Shit this ass.

Still, he doesn't dare pull your dress up to feel your skin under his hands.

He forces himself to keep the kiss as innocent as possible and give you the opportunity to go as far as you want without feeling pressured by him because he wants you right away.

With everything you've got.

I don't know if you expected him to push you off of him, but you gasp in surprise as he holds you tighter and you can feel his hard cock against your belly, even though the kiss seems so soft and innocent.

Your heart starts beating faster and faster and you desperately want to go further than just this one kiss, but you're not sure how to go about it, especially since it's been years since you slept with a man and that was just once and it certainly wasn't good.

So you just decide to go the direct route and mumble into the kiss, "Would you like to sleep with me?"

Growling, Rick presses his cock harder against your body and growls against your lips, "Shit, yeah. May I?"

A shudder of relief runs through your body and you let your hands slide over his torso, "Yes please."

You look him in the eye, "Does it bother you that I have very little experience? I don't really know what to do."

Surprised, he blinks several times before asking in a raspy voice, "No, it doesn't bother me at all, but what do you mean by little experience? Are you still a virgin?"

Quickly you shake your head, "No, no. I've had sex. Once. It wasn't great either and it may have been because of me that it was so bad. I just don't want to disappoint you."

And again, he just stares at you and takes a few seconds to respond, "Wait a minute. Who the fuck told you that shit? If the sex was bad for you, it's because the idiot didn't know what he was doing. You..." He clears his throat, "You could never disappoint me, believe me. Not during sex or any other time. I can promise you that."

Slowly he leans forward and you whimper softly as his lips touch your earlobe, "And you know what else I can promise you?"

He slides his fingers under the hem of your dress and touches your bare skin just below your bottom, "I know exactly what I'm doing."

He is hooked by how strongly you respond to his touch and words, that he doesn't think a second longer and gets on his knees in front of you.

With huge eyes you follow his movement and he can see you squeezing your legs together.

Still carrying the glow of the tree behind you, as he pushes your dress a little higher, your eyes begin to sparkle.

Smiling, Rick tilts his head and asks in a raspy voice, "Do you like seeing me on my knees in front of you?"

And he is right.

And how he is right.

Seeing him kneeling in front of you sends you into a kind of frenzy and you follow your instincts and reach out for his beautiful curls.

Still smiling at you as he pushes your dress up so he can see your pink panties.

A hint of nothing separating him from his greatest dreams and he tries not to be too distracted by your fingers in his hair and the wet stain on your panties.

Your hands follow his head as he lowers his lips to your thigh and spreads wet kisses on it.

You can't suppress the way your legs begin to tremble as he traces the edge of your panties with his tongue and you can feel his heavy breath on the damp trail.

He grips your thighs as he notices you threatening to stagger backward a step and asks hoarsely with arousal, "Can you stay still, honey? Are you okay?"

You stare at him and murmur softly, "I'm trying...Rick?"

He kisses your other thigh, "Hmmm?"

Gently he pulls your panties off and you gasp softly, "I dreamed about this once."

With his hands he pushes your legs further apart, "About what exactly, honey?"

Cool air hits your wet pussy, "The way you'd kneel in front of me...the way your curls would feel between my fingers...how-" You take a jerky breath as he presses his mouth, without warning, to your pussy and whispers harshly, "Keep talking...come on."

Hesitantly, you continue as he plays with you, "I kept calling your name...I...Rick...I wanted to feel you inside me..."

He slides his shoulders between your knees and he licks once from bottom to top: "Do you want my cock inside you now too?"

Moaning, you nod and he repeats the same with his tongue, "Would you let me stretch you, honey? I bet you're tight and will feel wonderful around my cock."

Who would have thought words would be enough to render you will-less in his hands and you cry softly, "Yes, Rick, yes."

It kills you how slow and steady his movements are and then when he murmurs again, "Will you be a good girl and spread your legs for me to fuck you after?"

He sees you roll your eyes and push your hips down further so you can feel him where you need it most right now.

Groaning louder and louder you say 'yes' as he gently takes your clit between his lips and starts sucking on it lightly.

You are so incredibly sensitive that it surprises him himself how quickly you start tugging at his hair and pressing his face convulsively between your legs.

He doesn't even get to the point where he wants to push his tongue into your wet tightness, your legs cramp up and you slump down trembling.

Unexpected as it may have been for him, he catches you anyway and you lean on his shoulders as he pulls you down further so that you are kneeling opposite him.

It takes a bit before you begin to see shank again and immediately your eyes fall on Rick's swollen lips.

Both his lips and his beard are glistening wetly and you notice your pussy contracting again at the sight around nothing.

You've always found him attractive, but with your own cum on his face and those beautiful blue glowing eyes, you'd be groveling in the dirt before him.

He gives you a brief moment to catch your breath, and he's already grabbing your shoulders and turning you so that you're facing the Christmas tree and he can only see your back, "What...what are you doing?"

Gently he pushes you forward and you brace yourself on your hands as he asks softly, "Do you trust me?"

Over your shoulder, you look back at him, "Yes, Rick."

Smiling, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and murmurs, "Then let me go ahead."

Slowly, you nod at him and lower your head to look down at your hands. Trusting him implicitly, you wince only briefly as he grabs your sweater and pulls it down your back and then over your head, causing the fabric to gather between your arms.

As you just surrender to him and he can touch you however he wants, pure adrenaline shoots through his body and he lowers his gaze to your glistening pussy.

You're so ready for him that he just leans over, takes one of your breasts in his hand and murmurs in your ear, "Shall I?" Moaning, you thrust your ass at him and yelp, "Please."

Your whole body is under tension and you lift your head to see the reflection in a Christmas bauble.

It's slightly distorted, but you see Rick pull down his pants and gently grab your hip before positioning himself so you can feel him at your entrance.

It's just the tip and he's not even really inside you, but your insides are already contracting as if your pussy is trying to cling to him.

You've never felt anything like this before and you whimper nubilely, "Don't make me wait."

Hearing your voice so begging and submissive makes him tremble and he pushes into you a bit.

As he expected, you're incredibly tight and although he likes it way too much, he doesn't want to hurt you either and asks in a clenched voice, "Is that okay?"

You hold your breath at the stretching he's causing you, but nod and breathe softly, "It's okay. Keep going, please."

He pushes into you inch by inch, and you squint your eyes.

Not because it's uncomfortable.

No, it's just unusual for you to be filled like this, and from the way he clings to you with his hands, he seems to like it.

With a short push he sinks completely into you and you moan at the same time.

He tries to calm down a bit, but you tighten around him and he hisses more out of reflex than he really means it: "Shit, I can't keep this up for long, don't you dare do that again or I'll slap your ass."

Uncontrollably you tense up around him again as he says this and he barely thinks about it as he lunges and slaps your bare bottom.

Never would you have expected to enjoy being spanked so much by a man while his hard cock is deep inside you, but you groan out and your arms give out so you have to prop yourself up on your elbows and Rick pulls out of you slightly only to thrust into you again.

Shaking, you moan out again and every time your pussy starts pulsing around him, he slaps you, which only makes you hornier and you cry, "Harder."

In his eyes you were always a sensitive and gentle person, so he never expected you to beg him to hit you harder. 

At that, he has to admit that with every slap on your butt, his cock goes through you with a jolt that throws you forward a bit and you start twitching around him so hard, he has to keep looking at the red spot on your butt.

Gasping, he grabs you by your throat and pulls you back against his chest, "You like being touched hard, huh?"

Up until this point, you didn't even know it yourself, but it would at least partially explain why your first time had been so lousy and you whimperingly agree with Rick.

He puts his lips to the side of your neck and the angle he's taking you at now is just what you need to whine, "I can't take much more."

His hand slides from your throat to your breast and he pinches your nipple as he growls, "Hold back."

He's sure you'd just fall over if he let go of your pretty tits, and he likes it much better this way.

On his cock, he can feel your wetness running down on him, and the way you try to cling to him is just what he needs to make his cock twitch inside you and tell you, "Now. Make me proud."

It's almost ridiculous how you start pulsing around him without hesitation, turning your head to the side to muffle your moans with his kiss.

The rhythmic movements of your pussy also make him cume with a hoarse moan in your tightness, and he shoves his tongue into your mouth for good measure.

You are a whimpering mess and as Rick pulls you to the side with him, you are grateful that you can finally lie down.

Your legs wouldn't be able to carry you anymore and now you can lie snuggled up to Rick in front of the Christmas tree and can't think of anything but being near him.

Gently his hands stroke your naked body and he asks you in a hushed voice, "Was I too rough?"

Sluggishly you shake your head, "No...I didn't know it could be that good."

Your shy reply plasters a grin on his face and he murmurs into your soft hair, "Hmmm, I have so much more to show you, honey."

Giggling, you hug him tighter and he draws little circles on your belly, "Merry Christmas."

Without hesitation, you lift your head and kiss him with the light of the Christmas tree, "Merry Christmas to you too, Rick."

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @tropodyn @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @igotbasicdrag

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 🤭)

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 12 DAENERYS I (pages 170-184)

Dany rides through the desert on a horse with no name, finds an abandoned city, and unlocks Jorah's backstory. Jhogo makes contact with Qarth.

-

"Why should I fear Pono?" Dany objected. "He was Drogo's ko, and always spoke me gently." "Ko Pono spoke you gently," Ser Jorah Mormont said. "Khal Pono will kill you. He was the first to abandon Drogo. Ten thosuand warriors went with him. You have a hundred." No, Dany thought, I have four. The rest are women, old sick men, and boys whose hair had never been braided.

He was nice when you were his boss's wife, now you're just some lady who once tried to steal away his right to rape and slave as he liked. He's not even a bloodrider duty bound to see you safely to the dosh khaleen.

"They are mine," she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur.

hmmmm... *reassesses theory on "the souls of the sacrifices used to wake the dragons being recycled into dragon souls" now with the idea that one of the dragons is ensouled by Mirri directly and not by Viserys.*

(Like, thematically and by naming convention it would make sense to be Viserys' soul, but on the other hand, he's been dead for donkey's yonks by this point.)

Her hair had all burned away in Drogo's pyre, so her handmaidens garbed her in the skin of the hrakkar Drogo had slain, the white lion of the Dothraki sea. Its fearsome head made a hood to cover her naked scalp, its pelt a cloak that flowed across her shoulders and down her back.

*gasp* Kimba! No!!! We were robbed by the show.

Their mounts subsisted on the tough brown devilgrass that grew in clumps at the base of rocks and dead trees. Dany sent outriders ranging ahead of the column but they found neither wells nor springs, only bitters pools, shallow and stagnant, shrinking in the hot sun.

yeah, sounds you are in 'dig for potable water' territory now. If you had cloth to filter it, you could filter the stagnant water, and use the dead trees to boil it clean, but in a desert like that, surface water is not what you want to be holding out hope for. You gotta dig.

"Aegon's dragons were named for the gods of Old Valyria," she told her bloodriders one morning after a long night's journey. "Visenya's dragon Vhagar, Rhaenys had Meraxes, and Aegon rode Balerion, the Black Dread. -"

Huh, neat. So named after as in those were the same names, or named after like Drogon after Drogo, with small changes?

... RIP Doreah.

Dany went to Ser Jorah one morning as they made camp amidst a jumble of black wind-scoured stones. "Are we lost?" she asked him. "Does this waste have no end to it?"

I imagine traveling exclusively by night makes navigating by stars easier, but there's no mention of it, are they legit just following the comet? How long is it going to be in the sky for? How long has it been there already?

Dany looked at the horizon with despair. they had lost a third of their number, and still the waste stretched before them, bleak and red and endless.

Not gonna lie, that's actually a better survival rate than I was expecting.

How long the city had been deserted she could not know, but the white walls, so beautiful from afar, were cracked and crumbling when seen up close. Inside was a maze of narrow, crooked alleys. The buildings were pressed close, their facades blank, chalky, windowless. Everything was white, as if the people who lived here had known nothing of color.

It would be interesting to know if the building were always only white because it reflects the light and heat, or if there was coloured paints and pigments on the walls long ago which have been long sun-bleached to whiteness, or if the Dothraki who once invaded stole everything of colour.

"What shall we seek, Khaleesi?" asked Jhogo. "Whatever there is," Dany answered. "Seek for other cities, living or dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there."

Good girl, now that you've had the chance to stop and think you're thinking smart.

Rakharo was back first. ... Dany gave him charge of a dozen of her strongest men, and set them to pulling up the plaza to get to the earth beneath. If devilgrass could grow between the paving stones, other grasses would grow when the stones were gone. They had wells enough, no lack of water. Given seed, they could make the plaza bloom. Aggo was back next. ... Dany thanked him and told him to repair the gates. If enemies had crossed the waste to destroy these cities in ancient days, they might well come again. "If so we might be ready," she declared.

Somewhere in the multiverse, Dany and her khalasar stayed there, in their city of bones and grew into a small but prosperous little community. And no one hurt or betrayed or enslaved them ever again.

"ugly humped creatures that dwarfed any horse." CAMELS!

The pale man with the blue lips replied in guttural Dothraki, (...) The bald man with the jewels in his nose answered in the Valyrian of the Free Cities, (...) The woman in the lacquered wooden mask said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, (...)

That's interesting* each of the three speaking to Dany in a different language, like they're trying to appeal to a certain aspect of her through their use of the languages they share with her.

*New drinking game, y'all take a sip anytime the Reader says "that's interesting" XD

[reddragon-cowboy]

can i ask for unusual hcs 5, 6, and 26 for both?;;

send me a # to learn an unusual hc about my muse! | @hartxstarr

5. how many blankets / pillows do they like to have on their bed?

One pillow is all he requires to wander after one's dreams, or as an alternative, he could do without a pillow all together to accomplish such a feat. Aboard Bebop is where he usually slumbers on the couch, occasionally found on the mustard-colored piece of furniture more times than in his own private quarters upon his own bed. Blankets appear absent when he rests in the living room, but one cover is found on his mattress if anyone peeks inside.

One pillow isn't quite enough to fill her satisfaction, rather, there are at least four pillows that sits at the head of her bed, at least for the purpose to warp her arms around one to cuddle her body against. A single sheet and thick blanket are spread over the surface of the mattress.

6. what do they normally dream about? nightmares or nonsense?

Sometimes, there are memories of dreamscapes which his mind crosses over like a bridge, memories that form a dark, blank slate when his eyes open to a new morning, mind having completely forgotten what he dreamt the night before. He can't recall what happens during those long hours of rest, visions of night dreams drizzle away as reality steadily dominate his senses as he's whisked back to the present. Spike's relationship with dreams is complicated. On one hand, he longs to be wrapped up in the gentle arms of dreams that whisper something sweet, loving, and everlasting, brushing away the pain brought on by years of heartache and tears unshed. And on the other hand, nightmares love to chase after him in a never-ending cycle, gripping his heart in terror and fright he's incapable of escaping from. He has little control of what may transpire within dream-like events behind eyes closed, frequently utilized to evade reality, but if given the choice, he'll perpetually dream of the scent of roses and tranquility.

Familiar faces surfaces amongst crowds of people, faces that invoke feelings of nostalgia as memories of long ago rush through her dreams. There are certain locations and places that tugs at her body to travel at the blink of an eye. Dusty old books. Sitting beneath the shade of a tree, an inch away from the touch of sunlight. Rich voice of a mother loveful and full of warmth. Roses and honeysuckle. Trapped beneath the shadow of abandonment that looms over and follows wherever naked feet goes. Dreams imitate a secret lover that visits her bedroom every night, slipping through the window between red curtains and moonlight.

26. what are they most passionate about? what could they debate about for hours?

I think it's common knowledge to know that Spike was passionate about Julia. The mere sound of her name would bring him to absolute attention as everything else prior would go out the window, the vision of her beautiful image in his mind's eye holding his focus on her alone. But something else also swims within his lonely heart, beneath the surface of deep waters where fish dwell, for who could know love is an aspect that lies within the backdrop of a former criminal's utmost desires ? How love saved him for a time where he felt truly alive ? For once, have something ( or someone) worthy to live for ? This is a passion he rarely delves into with anyone, and despite his own resistance to the topic, Spike can't help but listen when it's mentioned.

Niah is passionate about life, nature, and every living creature. Whether big or small - strongest and the weak. Simple things that may seem insignificant to others hold as much value as anything else. Show her something often viewed as trivial, and she'll evaluate its value with sincere words uttered of a deep meaning. She's a supporter of the weak, forgotten, and people ( or creatures) who have been abandoned in some way or another. A child could offer her a dandelion and she'll preserve its merit between pages of a book. Life is precious and should be cherished. Don't take it for granted. There is much to live for.

[xtruss]

El Fonoll, The Medieval Village In Spain Where Clothes Are Banned

Nestled in the Catalan mountains, this small naturist community was created in 1998 by an entrepreneurial couple on the ruins of a deserted town. Despite the strict rules, it attracts people from all over the world. ‘I will die in El Fonoll, naked but happy,’ says owner Emili Vives

— Jesús Delgado Barroso | Madrid, Spain | July 27, 2024 | El País

Aerial View of the Naturist Town of El Fonoll, in Tarragona. El Fonoll

There are many options to enjoy the summer. There are those who dislike to innovate and instead opt for an all-inclusive vacation at some beachfront resort. And then there are those who seek lesser-known and more alternative havens of peace. El Fonoll, a restored medieval village in the province of Tarragona, in Spain’s northeastern region of Catalonia, falls squarely within the latter category. Whether as a family, as a couple or alone, wearing clothes is prohibited here. The village, founded in the 14th century, has been converted into a community for those who want to experience harmony with the natural environment. There are campsites, hotels, rural homes, restaurants and many activities on hand, but there are also strict rules: taking photos is prohibited (unless you have consent); complete nudity is required (weather permitting), and respect must be shown for all ideologies. The list of rules goes on, on posters that are plastered everywhere. El Fonoll is a place where you cannot pretend to be what you are not.

It was in 1998 that this previously abandoned location became habitable again. The entrepreneurs Emili Vives and Núria Espinal, a married couple, built the naturist village from the ruins of the abandoned village — the last resident walked away in the 1950s. In a few years, it became a fresh-looking town with houses and everything necessary for living. “What brings me the most satisfaction is that, when I bought this, there was not a single tile left standing. There was nowhere to go. It was completely razed and abandoned,” explains Vives about how the village re-emerged from its ashes like “a Phoenix.” In a telephone conversation with EL PAÍS, the businessman gave details about the restoration process and the lifestyle of this peaceful community: “It took us eight years to have the entire exterior finished. It came out looking real pretty.” Although, he also confesses: “We don’t want any more tourists. We are fine the way we are now.” In 1998, they settled on the outskirts of town in a motorhome, and with the help of their children, they began to build what is today a refuge for naturists. “This meant I had to move into a motorhome in the winter, it was cold as hell,” he recalls.

Despite building the foundations of the community with very few difficulties, Vives did not have an easy time of it. He spent 150 million pesetas (about $980,000) out of his own pocket to recondition the spot. And as if that were not enough, he says, he has had judicial problems for more than a decade. His detractors call him “enlightened” and say he has executed building work without a license. He feels persecuted by the authorities, but has found solace in the streets of El Fonoll. The village even has its own currency. The community facilities are his, and the rules that he himself dictates must be complied with.

Basically, apart from the more than 30 rules to follow, the only major requirement in this corner of the world is to be a naturist. At least behind closed doors. “Naturism is a philosophy that seeks to live in harmony with nature. It is like a tree with many branches. It could be defined as a Buddhism of environmentalism. It’s a way of being. It’s not about being without clothes, which is also part of this type of tourism.” It could be viewed as a religion to which each of the visitors who set foot in El Fonoll pray, and whose 15 commandments — which can be read on their website — are inflexible. Although, as it is self-styled as a democratic community, suggestions can always be deposited in a public box. “I believe that this is a space of freedom, respect and good vibes. What we don’t let in is preachers or people who want to brainwash us. It is a space of respect for any ideology. Here, our only values are those of naturism,” the businessman states emphatically.

Entrance Sign to El Fonoll, in Tarragona. El Fonoll

El Fonoll has 120 beds divided between apartments, cabins and a hostel. In addition, there is a campsite for motorhomes, which can also be used for long stays. To access El Fonoll and use the town’s facilities, you must purchase the access voucher: €7.50 for the day/night voucher (to which you must add the price of the accommodation). And for their most frequent visitors, they offer an annual rate of €51.

Among mountains of pine, elm and ash trees, “the lifestyle here is quite simple. My life, in fact, is quite austere. I try to eat everything I can get from my organic garden,” Vives confesses, always preaching that “simplicity is at the origin of happiness.” Peaceful coexistence is almost mandatory in this place. Both Vives and his volunteers organize activities from Monday to Sunday. There are walks and events to celebrate life. “We do cultural activities. We have a small cinema, a restaurant, a multipurpose nightclub that we also use for massage or yoga courses or workshops or whatever else we do around here,” says the owner. “On Sundays, there is paella for everyone.”

Probably, one of the most important rules, and at the same time, the most difficult to comply with, is: “In order to film or take photographs on the estate, authorization is required from the management and the people involved.” Privacy is one of the most precious assets of the El Fonoll community, which is sometimes endangered by the use of smartphones by visitors. Sometimes, the attempts of its owners to keep the village away from today’s world are threatened by technology. Even so, they assume that photographs have never been a problem for them: “They are prohibited. It is one of the rules that can be read on the sign at the entrance to the village. It is a matter of respect,” explains Vives. “When we make paella and we want to take a group photo because 70-80 people are together, we take it and that’s it.” He jokes: “I suggest to people who don’t want to be recognized in the picture, to turn their faces away.”

Paella (Cada Diumenge!) al Fonoll. Foto de Salvador Badiella — en El Fonoll Poble Naturista.

The visitors who come to El Fonoll are very diverse. “The people who come are those who have left their comfort zone. There are people of all kinds. But above all, they are very interesting people to meet and engage with. In short, we don’t get chusma (rabble) and people like that, fortunately.” Many foreigners make their way here: “The people who come the most are Dutch, Belgian, French, English and German. But people come from all over the world.” A curious case in point: “It is very interesting. A lot of people come from Iceland, even though we never advertise. We only have the one website.”

“From a financial point of view, I think this whole thing has been a failure,” said Vives in a 2010 interview with this newspaper. “I will die in El Fonoll, naked but happy.” Asked how he feels after 14 years, he confirms that he has no regrets: “As the militant that I assure you I am, I have always tried to disseminate and promote and explain and defend what naturism is all about, and I don’t I regret a thing.”

[chilumi-shipper]

I just saw your smut fic where albedo created the reader just for pleasure and I just thought of a concept as well 😳 I hope your requests are open, but if it isn’t, please just read it and give me some comments; or you could just ignore this :3

cw// albedo is quite heartless in this

Like, imagine the reader was discarded because albedo made another one, a newer and a much improved version of reader. And the reader was not supposed to feel emotions, but ended up feeling heartbroken in the end.

Albedo threw you to the cold pile of snow and buried you under; your body naked and unconscious. Unbeknownst to albedo, the primordial albedo (imposter bedo) found you a few days after and felt a sense of sympathy for you— given that he himself was also a discarded creation.

And so he brought you to a cave, fed and gave you some warm clothes for the harsh environment of dragon spine. However, he grew confused once you shed tears when you saw him— just when you woke up. Did he hurt you in some way? Or was it something that his identical “twin” did to you?

As the weeks that you spent with him go by, you came to realise who he really was. He wasn’t your creator, but you couldn’t help but love him as who he was. You don’t love him because he looks like albedo, you love him because he is himself.

Basically two people starved of affection falling in love with each other.

you’re willing to do requests, please make this a fic and add more to it :D (feel free to make it a smut fic)

Greatest Creation (2)

The mentioned fic: "Greatest Creation"

That's kinda sad though 😭 Reader and Fakebedo deserve love too!

Albedo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Angst/Comfort, Crying, Blowjob.

(Just a little drabble to add on 😉)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Much like how Rhinedottir abandoned Subject 2 of her artificial life project, Albedo has buried you deep within the thick snow of Dragonspine and deemed you "broken".

"Am I... broken?"

Last time you checked, you were completely fine, you did everything you were told the best way you can, you love your Master Albedo...

"Here." A carbon copy of your master handed you clothes, despite being a humonculus, your body is susceptible to the cold.

That fake Albedo was walking aimlessly around, thinking of another way to achieve his goal, when he felt a pulse from the ground. He dug you out of your grave, you screamed at him and tried to throw punches...

Unfortunately, you're not built to attack nor protect.

You immediately knew it wasn't your Albedo, he didn't have the mark on his neck that you and your master have.

Despite your cold and naked state, you demanded him to escort you back to your Master, unaware of who buried you in the first place.

Subject 2 felt sympathy grow within him, when you peaked by the corner of Albedo's camp, eyes stained with tears as your Master holds on very dearly to a girl very similar to how you look...

But that's not you...

You saw it all, the blueprints, the materials, the special alchemy table. All of which were used to create you.

You touched your neck, looking at the unmarked neck of the other girl.

The fake Albedo had pulled you away from the scene, leading you to where he's staying.

You're both discarded creations now, thrown away like trash.

It didn't help that this new Albedo you were staying with had the same face as your Master. You screamed and cried, letting all your emotions out for the first time of your short-lived life.

"Why... even though you don't try to be perfect anymore, this Albedo you're with now doesn't intend on leaving you?"

And now you're here.

"What are you doing?" "Albedo" raised an eyebrow when you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands landing on his pants.

"This is how Master thought me to thank him when he does something for me." You answered, unbuckling his pants to reveal his length.

His cock popped out of his pants, landing right in front of your face.

You giggled, planting a kiss on his tip. "I hope you like it, my new Master."

"Albedo" seems to enjoy you and your little gestures a lot. Looks like what you learned from your previous Master isn't gonna go to waste.

[thewankbankuk]

BRUCE AND CHRIS

TAKE A HIKE

Bruce anxiously hopped out of the car.  He had just arrived at the national park with his best friend Chris and this was the day he would propose to him.

They met on the swim team in high school and quickly became good friends. They seemed to be together for every major event in each other’s lives since then. They won swim competitions together, went to the same college, and Chris was even there when Bruce’s mother passed away.

They dated for a bit in college, but after they graduated life seemed bent on keeping them apart.  They both got jobs in other cities and began to drift away. They would catch up every now and then by phone or skype, but it was never like old times. But Bruce was so excited when he got promoted and was transferred to the same city as Chris.

This hike meant so much to Bruce. It was a chance to not only celebrate his promotion, but it was also a way to really reconnect with Chris, without any outside interference. A chance to express his thoughts, emotions, and dreams for the future.

The plan was they would reach the mountain top right before sunset. Bruce would, of course, get down on one knee and confess his deep love to Chris. After Chris said yes, they would set up a site and spend a beautiful night under the stars.

Everything was going according to plan.  They had been hiking for 2 hours and would soon be at the peak. But then the strangest thing happened.  A man dressed head to toe in rubber stepped out of the woods in front of them. The man had a loose-fitting black rubber body suit on with rubber boots, rubber gloves, and a gasmask. The rubber man didn’t say anything to them, but they could hear the slow deep breaths coming from the gasmask.

Bruce and Chris looked at each other confused. The rubberman then reach out an arm and offered them a gasmask. Bruce and Chris didn’t say anything and began to turn around in hopes of avoiding any further interactions with the rubberman. As they did turn around though they noticed even more rubber men standing behind them.  As Bruce’s relief to finally be alone with Chris, quickly became anxiety that they were all alone in the woods with these crazy rubbermen. What were these men doing out here and what did they want with Bruce and Chris?

Both Bruce and Chris were very strong muscular young men, but there were too many of the rubbermen for them to overpower. The rubbermen were beginning to close in on them fast. So, Bruce and Chris began to run.

Pushing rubbermen out of their way they ran off of the path and into the woods. Bruce was so focused on running away from the rubbermen that he didn’t notice Chris had tripped over a tree root and fell. Giving just enough time for the rubbermen to swarm around Chris.

Chris yelled and Bruce turned around, but at this point Bruce was too far ahead to help Chris. But Bruce could see the rubbermen hold down Chris and force the gasmask over his head. The gasmask seemed to suction itself to Chris’s head, subduing the young man enough for the rubbermen to control him without much force.

The other rubbermen stopped trying to peruse Bruce and turned around and walked towards Chris. They formed a large circle around Chris and they began to breath heavily through their gasmask in unison.

Chris grabbed at the gasmask on his face trying to take it off. But the longer the gasmask was on the more relaxed Chris became. He then gave up trying to remove the mask and instead unhooked his backpack, letting it fall to the ground. He then pulled out his phone and took off his smartwatch. He placed them on the ground and began to violently smash each device with his boots until each was inoperable. Then Chris stood up straight and let his arms fall to his side, breathing in heavily through his gasmask in unison with the other rubbermen.

The rubbermen broke the circle and Chris began walking naked and robotically into the woods as if he knew where he was going. The other rubbermen began forming a line behind Chris and they all marched in unison.

Bruce watch, from a far, in horror and disbelief.  He envisioned his dream of being with Chris.  A dream that he could not let go of.  

He thought out loud, “What the hell is going on?“

” What the fuck have they done to Chris?“

He didn’t know what to do. They were so far from any kind of help. If Bruce left to get help, he may never see Chris again.

So, Bruce began to follow the men into the woods. If Bruce could just get to Chris and pull the gasmask off his face, they could bolt and hopefully lose the rubbermen.

The rubbermen continued to follow Chris into the woods until they reach an abandoned military complex. Out front of the complex were a few men not in rubber but military uniforms and gasmask. They saluted and watched the rubbermen and Chris walk into the complex. They then stood out front of the complex with rifles guarding the entrance.

It was dark outside and Bruce knew he wouldn’t be able to go through the front, so he began to walk around the complex looking for an alternate way inside. He walked up to a side door to see if it was open. When all of a sudden two military drones emerged from the door, grabbing Bruce and pulling him inside.

Once inside, Bruce quickly looked around trying to orient himself. It was a large dark concrete room with no windows. There were hundreds of crates, against the walls, stacked on each other. There was a single light, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, where the drones brought Bruce.

Bruce fought and struggled but it was no use. The drones overpowered Bruce and forced him to his knees. Pushing down firmly on his shoulder to hold him in place.

Bruce yelled out “Where’s Chris?”

“Why are you doing this to us?”

But the drones didn’t respond. Then Bruce heard footsteps and deep breathing in front of him. The drones let go of Bruce and he looked up in fear.

But it was just Chris, standing rigidly, completely naked over Bruce. Chris’s muscular body glistening with sweat. Bruce thought that Chris looked really hot. As the sound, the sounds of slow heavy breathing pulsating from the gasmask still over his head made Bruce a bit excited.

Bruce popped up and hugged Chris.

“Chris, I was so worried. Are you OK?” Bruce said, But Chris simply kept staring straight ahead as if he was looking past Bruce. Chris began breathing even heavier through the gasmask. Bruce tried to look into Chris’s eyes but was unable to see them through the dark lenses of the gasmask.  

Chris mindlessly pointed at one of the drones.  The drone put down its gun and walked over to one of the crates, opening it. The crates were full of gasmask and the drone grabbed one and walked over to Bruce, offering it to him. Bruce knocked it out of the drone’s hand and it fell to the floor. Bruce then reached up and tried to pull the gasmask from Chris’s face, but it was no use. The mask was suctioned too firmly.  It seemed to be fused to Chris now.  

Then one of the doors, to the room, swung open and hundreds of the rubbermen flooded into the room. Creating a circle of rubber around Chris and Bruce.  It was clear there was no escaping.  

Bruce began tearing up as the feelings of dread and despair grew inside him. He shook Chris as if trying to wake him from a dream.

But Chris was no longer there Bruce realized. Chris was just a mindless drone like the rest of them.

However, just as Bruce thought all hope was gone, Chris turned his head to Bruce. The lenses of the gasmask glowed as they looked directly into Bruce’s eyes. Chris then began to gently caress Bruce’s face. Bruce leaned into Chris’s hand and began to profess his feelings for Chris. He told Chris that he had always loved him, that life kept getting in the way of that love, and that he wanted to marry Chris so that they would be together forever.  Bruce shared how he had planned to propose on the mountain top as the sunset.  

In a deep robotic monotone voice, Chris responded to Bruce.

“Put on the gasmask Bruce”. Chris continued, “Everything will be better. No need to think. No need to worry, just mindless obedient bliss”.

Chris briefly paused, “We can be together forever. Isn’t that what you really wanted Bruce?”

Bruce began to cry even more, unsure of what to do, falling to Chris’s feet.

“Pick up the gasmask Bruce and put it on” Chris said. “It’s our only way Bruce!”

“Do it for me Bruce, because you love me. Show me how much you appreciate me, and how much you want to be with me”.

Bruce picked up the mask and looked up at Chris. He wanted to please Chris so badly and show Chris how much he loved him. He knew he would be trap into the collective and this would be his new life from now on.  It was his only way he could be with Chris.

“JUST FOR YOU BABY!”   Bruce replied as he slowly slides the gasmask over his head and took his first deep breath. The mask immediately suctioned itself to his head beginning to fuse with his skin. The gas from the mask began to take affect and Bruce began to relax. He started to hear the voices and commands of the collective in his mind and Bruce felt numb and obedient.

Bruce wouldn’t mindlessly obey the orders of the collective, but most importantly he was overwhelmed with joy when he realized he would from now on be perpetually connected to Chris. He could hear Chris’s thought and share the same mindless bliss. They were finally a unit and nothing would separate them ever again.

Bruce stood up letting his arms fall to his side as the gasmask took over complete control of his mind. Knowing this was where he was supposed to be.  A couple drones brought over rubber suits. Bruce and Chris eagerly dawned the rest of their rubber body suits happily joining the collective knowing they would be together forever.  

[just-a-normalpersons]

Soulmates

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Angst

AN: Soulmate AU in which your soulmates last words to you are written  on your wrist

You couldn’t stop staring at the words on your wrist. I love you. It seemed like the universe was trying to play a cruel joke on you. How could those be the last words you will ever hear your soulmate say. You had always been scared of commitment, but now you were absolutely terrified of love.

That was until you met her. She entered your life like a whirlwind of red, and you had no choice but to get swept up in it. The second Clint introduced you to the newest member of the Avengers, you knew you couldn’t escape your fate anymore.

No one had ever left an impression on you like Natasha Romanoff did. The first few weeks, you couldn’t seem to compose yourself around her, sending shifting glances all around the room whenever she would enter, shifting your weight from side to side and picking at your small silver watch.

Natasha being the world-class spy that she is, caught onto your nervousness quite quickly and made it her mission to give you more attention than the other Avengers, simply because she thought it was adorable how easily flustered and nervous you got around her.

Once you started to be more at ease around her, you started to know the red-headed assassin better, seeing sides of her that no one else did, which only made your feelings towards her grow.

After a few months, the two of you got send on a mission in Russia together. Everything went south quickly and the two of you ended up having to hide out in a small cabin in the middle of the forest, snowed in, with no way to get back to America. You spend most nights talking on a small brown leather sofa in front of the fireplace in the living room.

Natasha found a large bottle of vodka hidden away in the tiny corner cupboard in the kitchen, and one night when you both drank too much, one thing lead to another. When you woke up the next morning, Natasha still had her arms wrapped around your naked frame, and after that night the two of you officially started dating.

Now, 3 years later, you were hopelessly in love with her, which is why you were staring at the words on your wrist. You were still laying in bed, feeling Natasha’s hot breath on the back of your neck in a steady rhythm, indicating she was still asleep. All you could think about, was when it would end.

It could end any moment. Whenever she told you she loved you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop. Was this it? Was this the end? Is your time together up? All you could do was hope it wasn’t.

Because you were still deep in thought, you didn’t feel Natasha’s arms tightening around your waist, signifying that she was awake. You got snapped out of your thoughts when Nat quickly turned you around so that you were facing her now. You still weren’t used to how she looked in the morning. The messy red hair splayed around her face, her green eyes looking like they could stare into your soul.

She pressed her forehead against yours and pressed you closer towards her.

“Good morning baby, what has gotten you so deep in thought?”

“Good morning Nat. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it, I was just daydreaming a little bit.”

You respond before pecking her lips. Nat slowly slides her hand into your hair and pulls you closer again, giving you another small kiss.

You and Nat get brutally interrupted from your relaxed morning in bed when your phone starts to ring, displaying Steve’s contact information on the screen.

“Just leave it baby, it’s just Steve, he can wait. This is our only day off, and I just want to spend the day relaxing with you.”

Nat tells you while trying to distract you by kissing your neck. You let your phone go to voicemail, but within seconds Steve is calling you again.

You let out a deep sigh and roll out of Natasha’s embrace, sitting on the edge of your bed while answering the phone.

“Y/N. Where are you? I need you and Nat to come to the compound now. There is an emergency and I need the two of you for a mission. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. I’ll brief the two of you once you’re here.”

With that Steve hung up, leaving you slightly confused.

“What did he want? Please tell me he didn’t just ask if we could do a mission on our one free day.”

Natasha asked you while rolling her eyes. Slightly annoyed at Steve for ruining your day off.

“I’m sorry Nat, he said it was an emergency and that he would brief us on the mission once we arrive at the compound.”

Natasha sighed while getting out of bed. She knew that this was the life the two of you signed up for, but she was still annoyed that her day with you got ruined. At least you would still be able to spend it together, just not in the way she had planned originally.

After a quick fifteen-minute drive during which Natasha broke multiple speed limits, the two of you arrived at the compound and found Steve for the mission brief.

“Finally. I need the two of you to check on Wanda and Clint. They went to check out an abandoned Hydra base yesterday, but we lost all contact with them, and the last information they gave us was that the base wasn’t as abandoned as we thought, so I need the two of you to retrieve Wanda and Clint and if possible the information they were send to collect.”

You nodded, feeling slightly worried for your two friends and teammates, even though you knew they were perfectly capable of handling themselves.

“The quinjet is waiting for you on the roof, it’s ready to leave when you are.”

Natasha went over the details with Steve once again before she grabbed your hand and the two of you started to make your way to the roof. You knew she was worried about your friends as well, which is why you gave her hand a slight squeeze in an attempt to reassure them.

After a quick flight which seemed to take ages, you landed in the middle of the forest, 10 minutes away from the base so that no one saw the two of you arrive.

Natasha exited the jet first, walking in front of you, leading the way. Once you arrived at the base, it seemed abandoned at first, but with the information Steve gave you, it seemed very likely that there were still Hydra soldiers inside.

Natasha was the first one to find the entrance, and the two of you quickly made your way inside. After having walked around for half an hour, you still hadn’t encountered any Hydra agents and there was no sign of either Wanda or Clint, making you slightly nervous.

After having checked most doors and hallways, you suddenly heard noises coming from one of the rooms. Natasha and you sneaked up to the room, both getting ready to fight, until you clearly heard the voices from the room.

Natasha kicked the door open, catching an arrow right before it hit her in the face two seconds later.

“Is this the thanks we get for coming to save you? If so, I’m never doing it again.”

Natasha jokingly tells a shocked Clint and Wanda. You make your way inside as well, checking both of them for any injuries, and once you realise, they’re both fine, you all decide to get out of the building as soon as possible.

Everything went fine trying to get out of the building, it was almost too easy. You didn’t encounter anyone, and it looked like the base was actually abandoned, which was not the case according to Clint and Wanda.

The second you opened the door to get out of the building, you realised why. A small Hydra army was waiting for you, ready to attack. You all quickly ducked behind the trees, trying to get cover while taking on Hydra soldier after Hydra soldier.

You kept making more miles towards the jet, and at one point you actually thought you were going to make it. You could see Clint and Wanda take on about thirty soldiers, which was the only obstacle between them and the jet.

On your left, Natasha was fighting around 15 soldiers, just like you. You managed to take most of the soldiers down, however, when you quickly glanced at Natasha to see how she was getting on, you noticed one of the soldiers pulling a gun on her while she was fighting three others.

Without giving it a second thought, you launch yourself forward, pushing Natasha out of the way of the multiple bullets that got fired her way.

Natasha quickly takes care of the remaining Hydra agents, before looking your way. You can see the panic in her eyes before you feel the pain. Natasha comes running towards you at the same time your knees give out and you slump forwards, not being able to keep yourself upright any longer, and Natasha catcher you in her arms.

“Y/N! No! Why would you do that you idiot! Stay awake all right, we’re almost at the jet, you’re going to make it.”

You can feel Natasha picking you up, while the world around you is starting to blur and the things that stand out the most are Natasha’s red hair and green eyes, that are starting to tear up, only amplifying the colour.

You could feel your eyes starting to close, the blood loss becoming too much. You vaguely hear Nat shouting towards Clint and Wanda to get the jet ready so that she can try to save you.

“Y/N! Open your eyes baby. Please, open your eyes. Listen to my voice alright. You’re going to make it out. This is not the end. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay awake for me okay? Please baby, please. I need you to stay awake. Don’t leave me please.”

You wanted to respond to her, but you just couldn’t do it. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and you could faintly feel Natasha press her hands on the wounds in your abdomen trying to stop the bleeding.

The ringing in your ears got louder, and Natasha’s voice started to fade. You could feel yourself slipping away and the last thing you heard before everything turned black was Natasha’s voice, filled with fear.

“….. Please baby, please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

[the-slasher-files]

Hello!! It's me again, I loved what you wrote from my last request, and I wanted to try if I could ask for another one. I know it's a holiday, so I understand if it's gonna be a while, or if you'll be unable to do it.

Picture this, s/o is out busy all day, leaving the slashers on their own. Then, while the slashers are in their duties, they spotted something that reminded them of s/o. It can either be clothings, accessories, or even the smell of something their s/o bakes, etc.

I would love to see how Michael and Jason (even the other slashers, for the other readers out there) would contemplate when something like that happens to them. Like a moment thinking about their s/o and recognizing their adoration for their s/o.

(Ask is a little long but I also wanna say I love you writings so much! Happy Holidays!)

oooooh I adore this!! Happy Holidays to you as well! Just to make it more painful I am going to make it so the s/o is gone for ‘longer’ making them yearn more :) Also forewarning there is quiet a bit of gore in this but not super bad, also includes people getting murdered and angsty vibes! hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS BEING REMINDED OF THEIR S/O WHEN THEY’RE GONE

INCLUDES JASON, and MICHAEL

JASON VOORHEES

A creature quietly stirred in the shadows of the trees, moving rapidly but somehow silently. A ghost. A myth. A legend of Camp Crystal Lake. When you were gone and he was on the hunt, the man that bared the name Jason Voorhees, was ruthless. Everything he was with you as a lover was lost and replaced by violence, rage and a malicious intent. Brutally spilling blood in revenge, becoming one with the forest and lake that hid him effortlessly, waiting for the time to strike.

The small group of teenagers were in the rustic wooden cabin glimmering in the night by with the warm glow of the campfire outside, left abandoned for other activities. He could hear the groans, heavy breathes and muffled music from the drunk teens, creaking the old beds in a rhythmic pace. The creature white knuckled the wooden handle of his machete, forcing bones and veins to appear along the damaged skin.

The normally creaky floorboards of the porch did not creak for him, hiding his presence, almost as in appreciation for the man that kept up the camp and fed the woods surrounding. Jason made his way into the wooden structure quickly meeting a sizable man, shirtless, protecting a young female that stood behind him poised to scream but the air never left her lungs for the machete brutally skewered both teens with little effort. A river of scarlet seeped into the old wooden floorboards beneath the killers muddy boots as the blade was pulled out of the slumped corpses. With forceful steps Jason marched into the small bedroom ripping the door open, the hulking frame of the beast lunged toward the naked skinny teen and with the clean whoosh of metal blood sprayed everywhere, the bed, the floor, on Jason and coating the now screaming women beneath the teen. Quickly the creature grabbed her throat, pulling her up and squeezing, watching the life drain from her trembling body, lips turning blue and eyes bulging, she was gone in a simple few minutes.

The night fell silent again until a new muffled song appeared from the bathroom, a familiar song, one the creature had heard many times before. Turning slowly and gingerly pushing the wooden bathroom door open, steam swept through the air and a phone laid on the counter, a woman was in the shower singing alone to the song playing from the device.

The scene was yours but the smell and voice wasn't. It brought the creature to a strange state, one that placed the man in between his two persona's; deadly murderer and gentle lover. Jason stood observing for a moment, remembering all the nights he would come home and find your little naked body in the hot shower pretending as if you were on stage to thousands preforming your favorite songs. So cute, so pure and vulnerable, coating yourself in the beautiful floral scents you always seemed to dawn. Jason would often step into the stream with you usually fully clothed making you laugh-- Your laugh was even so adorable to the large man-- and he would run massive hands where he pleased along your soft skin, making you look so small under him. Perfection was an understatement to Jason, you were his everything and you took him for what he was, loving the man with all of your heart.

Jason missed you and missed you bad; gone for a week seemed like a year to him. Hating when your family pulled you away to the fast and loud city, which you told your lover you hated too but you both knew you would have to see them sometime, making sure you were fine.

A ridiculously out of tone lyric was sung and it ripped threw Jason’s ears, drawing his ire and pulling him into the killer character. This was not you, not your smell, not your voice. Swiping the phone to the floor the creature destroyed it under his boot with ease and forced the giant blood covered machete through the shower curtain and into the unfortunate soul behind it.

MICHAEL MYERS

A scream broke the air of the cool October night. In the traditional white American home a crimson liquid painted the inside, smeared against the walls, sprayed along the flickering tv screen, pouring out of a woman. A man watched her, head tilted as she clawed against the grey carpet with one hand, while the other futility clutched her neck where a stream of blood ran. His anger was bright at the fact it wasn't you beneath him, bleeding out and crawling away helplessly.

The shape of Haddonfield had made home in the shadows tonight, slipping away between the cookie-cutter houses and stalking with warm glow from the windows. A blur of white and navy hid away for the moonlight didn't even want to touch the sick soul, seamlessly blending into the night.

He had watched her from the bushes with a feeling of desire forming in his core, burning fury and sick thoughts incased him. The shape could do things to her that he never could with you, but it wouldn't be the same, he knew. She had your same hair colour. Similar build. The same black hoodie. Baking something that smelled familiar.

You were gone, not at home but in your hometown. Far away from Haddonfield. Only one more night he counted in his head, one night too long. You had done everything to try and convince Michael to take the road trip with you but leaving his town wasn't something he ever wanted, you knew that and accepted it. However, Michael didn't accepted it, rage grew every hour you were gone, knowing he should have just tied you up in the bedroom, threatening to kill you. Fuck, he wanted to see how your blood would run between his fingers and shimmer on his cold metal blade. Something was different about you, and Michael just couldn't place it why he had kept you alive and allowed your touch for so long. It could've been your smell perhaps, it was sweet with a tinge of musk from himself; the copper smell fell flawlessly against your skin and mixed into a dangerous perfume. Maybe it was your nature, treating the man like a human instead of a demon, not ever wanting to push him on why he was the way he was, you just took what he gave you and it was enough. Every living thing has needs and you met his perfectly, unlike the bitch he watched.

Large boots squelched along the damp grass, striding with a wicked intent the shape quietly opened the back door of the home, stepping into the shadows of the hallway. Michael looped into the kitchen where the woman was; she gazed into the black eye holes of the white mask and screamed, faltering to the living room, Michael walked slowly grabbing the largest knife from the wooden block on the counter. Two large strides had the man towering over her figure, slitting her neck from ear to ear.

Michael had planned this from the very moment he saw her yesterday walking past the house you shared with him. She was not you, and that was the point.

[gotnofucks]

My Little Girl-3

Pairing: dark!Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 3.7k

Warning: dub-con, smut, weird weird stuff idk how I came up with, 18+ Only

A/n: Tried to build a plot…I think

Part1  Part2  

MASTERLIST

+++++

Was it only a few months ago you were complaining about walking? You remember wishing that one day you could travel on horseback or a palanquin, but you never thought it would be this way. Tony had outdone himself by getting you a carriage, one fit for a royal and you jostled inside as it made its up a winding path.

You looked at him sat across from you, reading a scroll in the dim light of the lantern that hung overhead. He unlike you was calm, his legs relaxed and spread open while you sat biting the skin around your nails in nervousness. You didn’t know where you were going, only it will be a few long days of journey. Tony had roused you in the middle of the night asking you to pack a change of dresses and your medicinal herbs. You had asked where you were off to but like always your questions were put aside with vague reassurances.

“It does not become a future queen to pinch her face like this my love” Tony commented, his brown eyes gleaming in the faint light.

“And does it become a future king to abandon his palace in the middle of the night like thieves?” You asked with a huff and Tony chuckled. He put down his papers and held out a hand to you that you took. Pulling you into his lap, he adjusted the blanket over you so that the slight breeze from the window won’t hit you.

“You talk to me like an equal already. I will have a lot of fun taming you into an obedient wife.” He murmured in your ear and you shivered. You had come to accept his familiar intimacy over the months, somehow even crave his touch when he was away. He had made your body his, while your heart was battling between emotions for a man who ran hot and cold.

His lips pressed against your neck, right over your larynx, bulging over it as you gulped deeply. His beard scratched deliciously across your flesh and your hand raised up to push back his hair that had fallen on his forehead. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying and failing to figure him out. You still didn’t know what he saw in you, only that he refused to be parted.

His hands found the hem of your skirt, collecting the heavy fabric and pushing it up. You squeaked, holding his hands as a blush overtook your features.

“My prince, not here.” You said and Tony chuckled, slanting his mouth over yours in a deep kiss, air now kissing your neither regions. You moaned and pushed against him, your delicate hands no match for his strength.

“You should know better than to deny me my princess, I take you where I want, how I want.”

He unlaced his breeches, shifting under you to pull them down to his knees and lifting you and twisting your body so your legs fell on either side of him, straddling his thighs.

“But I’m sore.” You complained even as the bulbous head of his cock slapped against your sensitive flesh, a jolt of lightening shooting down your spine. Pleasure and rational were always at war where Tony was concerned.

“I’ll be gentle. Now put me inside you.” You took his heavy tool in your hand, positioning him at your entrance and sank down slowly on him. The rocking of the carriage aided the thrusts, his whole length going deeper in this position. He let you do most of the work, his hands at your waist helping you bounce softly. His eyes were locked intensely to yours, broken only when he leaned forward to kiss you or suck a mark on your flesh.

“We’ll reach our destination in two days; you must obey my every command there.” Tony said, his breath labored as you continued moving. You looked at him in question, but he didn’t say more, one of his hands reaching between to tease your bud. You moaned alongside him, sweaty and panting. The heat of his gaze and his body drove you towards the peek and you fell with a scream, hoping against hope that the coachman couldn’t hear you over the trampling of horses. Tony groaned as you squeezed him, his hands clutching you tight to himself as he released in your body with a few last desperate thrusts.

You breathed heavily and moved to get off him, but he held you, his hand reaching into a silk pouch to bring out a small glass vial. You watched in bewilderment as Tony reached a finger inside you and scooped out the mix of your release and his cum, dropping the thick mixture into the vial. He finally let you move and went over to seal the vial with some wax.

“What are you doing?” You asked, shock coloring your voice.

“Don’t think about it. Are you cold, do you want another blanket?” Like always your queries were dismissed like the meaningless babblings of a child and you huddled in your blanket with a frown on your face at being treated as such. “Don’t make that face when we reach at our destination. You need to be on your best behavior.”

You held Tony’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers and pulling him under the blanket with you hoping your closeness will soften him up.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Now come here my princess, you need your sleep.”

+++++

You opened your eyes when you realized you were being carried somewhere. Tony’s arms lifted you with little trouble, his title as the Man made of Iron doing justice to his strength. You were just entering what seemed like an Inn, the servants crowding to bow before the prince. You sleepily lifted your head and surmised it was probably the back door and you wondered again why Tony felt the need to hide so much.

“Your Highness, it’s an honor to be graced with your presence. As your messenger requested, we have got a room at the back ready. Not one whisper of your presence shall escape any lung here.”

Tony nodded at the servant and carried you over the threshold to a room at the end. Setting you down on the bed, he left the room and you got up, still half asleep. Now that you had been living in the royal chambers for a few months, the starched sheets felt scratchy against your skin. You heard noises outside the door and crept over sneakily, trying to listen.

“– know what I am doing. I don’t care what you say.”

“Your Highness – Tony – You are my closest friend. As someone who has stayed loyal to you and will always be, you must take my advice. It’s dangerous to cross the territory.” You recognized the voice as Lord James Rhodes and frowned since you had no idea he was travelling with your party.

“I have to! I will not have her suffer. You’re the one who suspected that Steve maybe the one who –”

“Your Highness, I didn’t mean for you to take this step. Have you any idea what state the palace will be in once they learn of your disappearance? You’re to be wedded to Princess Virginia in few weeks and if word travels back that you’re out with your…with your preferred woman things will go south.”

“That is why you are here. While I manage my personal affairs, you will see to my duties back home. If all goes according to my plan, we’ll be on our way back in a few days with good news.”

There voice drifted away and you climbed back into bed before Tony came back, mulling over what you’ve heard. The Prince has taken this journey for you, to protect you from something. And somehow Lord Rogers is related to it. You shuddered as you thought of him, his leers making you feel dirty even in your thoughts.

Tony came back after a few minutes, crawling under the sheets with you.

“Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head no. His hands expertly rid you of your dress, throwing it on the floor before he disrobed and joined you naked, his front to your back. You make a soft noise and his hands wandered down your curves, smoothening and squeezing while his lips bit your earlobe. “Been wanting to fill you again and again my little girl.” His fingers circled your nub, your slick running down your thigh and Tony raised your leg over his thigh before entering you from behind.

You didn’t speak, his gentle love making tugging you deep in the heart as you went over what he just said outside. His rough breath blew over your face and neck, hands playing with your nipples and nub. The sounds of slapping flesh filled the room, soft moans whispered in the dark.

“Won’t be long now, you’ll be mine officially.” He mumbled and released just after you, panting heavily. You turned over to tug yourself under his arm, but he pushed away and like before got another vial where he collected your essence. You grimaced, wondering what he’ll do with this.

“Will you ever tell me what really goes on in your head?” You ask as he lay with you.

One of his hands played with your hair and tugged a little, making you look up at him. Even in the dark, his eyes were shining like made of some luminescent rock.

“My little girl, all my thoughts are about you. You’re the only thing that is ever on my mind.” He whispered.

+++++

You looked out of the window, surprised to see that there were at least a dozen other men accompanying you. The carriage rolled down, the path getting rockier as it went and you held onto your seat. Tony had chosen to ride with Lord Rhodes, probably to talk without you overhearing. This was the farthest you had ever been from the kingdom, the wilderness getting more untamed. After a few minutes, the carriage lurched to a stop as did everyone else. You pushed your head out to see what was happening.

“You must decide Your Highness, for if we cross the boundary now there is no going back.” Lord Rhodes said to Tony whose eyes flicked to you before he nodded. The procession moved onwards and after some time it seemed like nature itself had changed. The trees on either side of the path were unlike you had ever seen, bulbous shapes, some conic with almost purplish leaves. Your eyes widened, pretty sure you were dreaming.

“Enjoying the view?” Tony asked as he rode his horse alongside you.

“This – is this real? I feel like it’s a spell.” You said in awe and Tony reached out to flick your nose.

“We’re in the lands of Kamartaj my love, everything here is an illusion and reality.”

“What’s Kamartaj, I’ve never heard of it”

You should have stuck to vague sentiments because the moment you asked the question Tony rode away, his horse speeding up to the front. You sighed in defeat, resting against the back and let your thoughts wander. You focused on the different fruits that hung from the trees, the stones that seemed to almost shine. The very air seemed sweeter somehow.

You must have journeyed for an hour before finally stopping. Before you stood a castle, but not as big as the one back home. This one was built with dark stone, the terrible winds having smoothened out its edges. It looked ancient, and if you dared think, almost alive. The men dismounted and stood in waiting, until a man in red robes emerged from within.

Lord Rhodes stepped forward and bowed deep, the man in front of him mimicking his action.

“Master Wong, I thank you for granting us your presence and admittance to your land. The Prince of Stark Kingdom extends his warm regards.”

Tony stepped forward and bowed too, the other men behind him following. Wong had very short hair, he almost appeared bald and his face held lines that seemed infused in superior knowledge. He didn’t smile at your party, merely looked at them as one would at a stone on the path.

“The Sorcerer Supreme and our Medic are expecting you. Please, have the lady come forth and follow me.” Wong said. How he knew you were in the carriage you couldn’t say for he had not glanced at your way once. Tony helped you down from the carriage, fixing your skirt and hair.

“Stay close to me, and don’t interrupt them. They are short on patience and it’s mighty great to have secured an audience.”

You had so many questions about where you were, why were you here and who were you meeting. This whole place felt detached from the world you had grown up in, as if every element here resisted what was considered normal. You let Tony guide you inside the castle, your slippers rubbing against the floor. Contrary to the cold image the castle presented, it was warm inside, with fires burning in small niches and illuminating your way. It was like a labyrinth, one hall leading to another, twisting and turning until you lost all sense of direction. You glanced over your shoulder and saw that only Lord Rhodes accompanied you, rest of the men staying outside.

The chamber that the hall opened to was large and strategic windows on the wall cast in streams of light, the whole place swimming with dust motes. Before you stood two men who looked up when Wong entered with you, one a tall man in blue robes and a red cape while another who wore a simple tunic.

Tony left your side and smiled as the man in the simple garb came forward to embrace him.

“Tony my dear friend, how long it has been.” He greeted, the man in the red cape behind him snorting in disdain.

“Bruce, or should I say Medic Banner now?” Tony teased, making Bruce rib him and chortle.

“Yes yes, its all very great to have you here. What do you want Stark?” The red cape man asked and Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Stephen, he’s a friend.”

“Your friend, Master Medic, not mine. I do not tolerate egotist princes who throw a tantrum when things don’t go their way. Their view of universe is limited to their kingdom, higher truth not interesting them in the slightest.”

You could sense the animosity between The Prince and this man, and you surprisingly found yourself fearing for Tony. You made a small noise in the back of your throat that immediately made all eyes turn towards you. Bruce’s eyes widened in curiosity and he shot an almost cheeky look at Tony.

“As I would have explained Sorcerer Supreme had you allowed me to speak, this is my future princess, Lady Y/n. Come here my love.” Tony said and you joined him, your hands clutching his. “It is her that brings me here, for I fear for her health.”

Bruce, Stephen and Wong scanned you, yet you didn’t feel afraid under their looks. It was like they looked deeper than your skin, as if their gaze seemed to be passing through you into the beyond.

“The contents in the letter you sent, they referred to her?” Bruce asked and Tony nodded. You frowned, feeling blindsided. He’d been talking about you to other people? The royal physician had declared you healthy, so why were you here in the company of men far different to any.

“My lady, please have a seat.” Stephen said politely to you and you peeked up at Tony who nodded. You were confused as you settled into a chair, Stephen sitting before you. Your eyes settled on his scarred hands that were trembling slightly, yet they didn’t weaken his countenance in the slightest.

“Tony, you brought what I asked?” Bruce questioned and Tony produced the two vials of your essence. You blushed a deep red, embarrassment and shame flooding you.

“If I may My Lady?” Stephen asked, his thumb poised over your forehead.

“What?” You squeaked

“I’ll place my hand on your head, it won’t hurt. May I?”

He was polite to you, almost kind in a fatherly way when he spoke. You were glad his rivalry with Tony didn’t extend to you, for you didn’t think you could handle having someone like him as an enemy. Whoever he was, you saw no reason to fear him. The raw power he exuded soothed you instead of making you feel smaller. You nodded to him and his thumb touched your head. The world went black.

+++++

There was a commotion around you, voiced raising and shouting. You tried to open your eyes, but they stuck together. Memories ran across your mind, the first meeting with Tony, your mother hugging you, Steve touching your cheek, the myriads of lovemaking moments rushing past. You tried to move your hand but found you couldn’t control your body, the muscles seizing and paralyzing you. You heard your name as if from a far far place, the voice familiar and warm and full of love. You willed yourself to follow it, your body seemingly floating through nothing, wading through the dark to the source of warmth.

Your eyes snapped open and you were still on the chair, leaning back against the back to rest your head. Tony and Stephen were shouting at each other, Lord Rhodes pacing near Bruce who was fiddling over what looked like cauldrons simmering on fire. You blinked and got up slowly, your tongue heavy in your mouth.

“Tony?” You called out and saw him abruptly shut up and rush to your side, hands cupping your face, fingers stroking gently.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice thick with worry and you nodded, hugging him. You didn’t understand what happened, but you wanted to leave. It felt like someone had jumped inside you, turning you inside out. You looked at Bruce who was adding your essence to one of the cauldrons and you shot an accusing look at Tony.

“Did you bring me to witches?”

Tony winced at your tone and shook his head, his gaze locking on Stephen who was full on glaring at him.

“Strange and Wong are masters of the mystic arts, a science beyond time. They are not witches.” He explained but you were not convinced.

“My Lady, we are sorcerers, we work with nature, not against it. Bruce is just a mad physician who doesn’t know his own strengths and limits.” Stephen explained to you. His eyes held a new sort of light when they fell on you, a look of pity and respect. “You are a strong woman My Lady, having been through what you did and still having a kind heart to let yourself care for a man like Stark.”

Tony scowled and you bent your neck, hiding your eyes from Stephen. He knew what Tony had done to you. Somehow, he had seen what happened, had felt what you felt. It was a humiliation you couldn’t take.

“You must not fear My Lady, for Kamartaj will do its best to help you. Once Master Medic finishes tinkering with his potion that is.”

As if waiting for him to say this, Bruce shot up from his chair and started pacing. “I can’t believe this. He was a friend to us, why would he turn on you.” He was mumbling to himself, running his hand through his grey and black hair. He looked at you and then started pacing anew.

“Bruce?” Tony asked, his hands holding yours and still not letting go

“If what you say is true, Steve is poisoning you.” Bruce declared and you gasped. “No, don’t look like that. It’s not venom, but a specific poison that affects only one specific brand in your body. In this case, the reproductive organs.”

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly revisited what Steve had said to you a couple weeks ago. You couldn’t have Tony’s kid.

“He’s been mixing something in my food? My water?” You asked but Bruce shook his head.

“No, my lady. You are fertile and healthy. Steve has been mixing the poison in Tony’s food.”

There was silence for a minute until Lord Rhodes threw his knife at the wall in anger, the blade embedding itself even in stone.

“That traitor, he will be hung for treason!” He vowed and you found yourself nodding.

Tony however looked less than pleased with this information. For the first time since you had left the palace, he actually looked worried. It seemed he would have preferred if Steve were poisoning you.

“Tony, we need to tell His Majesty about this. To hell with him not accepting your match with Lady Y/n, this is about your life.” Lord Rhodes said.  Tony raised his eyes and the hard glint in them reminded you of the power he restrained when he was with you. You were painfully reminded of the first night he took you, the darkness that was barely held at bay.

“Tell my father?” He scoffed in derision. “Steve can’t poison me himself, he’s been removed as my Lord months ago. He has help from the palace staff, and the palace staff answers to only one authority.”

The truth and bitterness of the statement settled like a stone over your heart. The Prince was being conspired against by his own father.

“How long until the poison lasts?” Tony asked Bruce as if he had not just made a terrible truth known.

“A few more weeks if the use is discontinued. The effects should burn out.”

“And my seed will carry over to her after that?”

“Yes, it should.”

Tony nodded like that solved everything. He pulled you up, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees knock against each other.

“You will bear my heir soon enough, and then I’ll gift you the head of the man who wished to separate us.”

He kissed you in full view of everyone, and you could do little but respond. You were just a shiny object that powerful men fought over, and no matter how much they loved you, desired you, you’ll end up being pulled on either side until you broke.

+++++

For those who can’t access my dark!peter x reader story from my masterlist or otherwise, try this link. Hopefully it works, because I am too lazy to post again.

PROTECTED: dark!peter x reader

[mythiccheroacademia]

so, this can be with izuku, baku, and shotou. and there’s a situa like infinity war where they have to fight who sacrifices themselves and s/o dies. but ends up coming back. or however you want it. i love your blog 💕💕 #blackgirlmagic

A/N: I like the way you think anon ;) I really let my imagination fly with this one. I hope you like it!

Warnings: death, blood, cursing, resurrection

Midoriya Izuku:

izuku couldnt breathe the entire way to the hospital

he couldn't get the sight of your sightless eyes and lifeless body from the forefront of his mind

he would never forget the image of seeing the ten-inch thick pole you took for Eri tear through your body 

there was blood

so much blood 

no one had ever heard midoriya scream like that before 

he was forced to be held outside the OR as the medical staff operated on you

aizawa had disabled his quirk, so he was forced to just scream, curse, and plead for iida and ochako to let him through. however, he couldn't do anything else but choke on his voice as he saw them try to revive you with the defibrillator 

but it was no use

izuku all but fainted when the head surgeon solemnly came out to tell everyone that you didn't make it through the operation 

eri, who had been with aizawa to the side, shook her head. she couldnt accept this 

even though aizawa had told her she wasn't ready to use her powers, she couldnt just sit there and let you die

you saved her life and she would do the same 

before aizawa could catch her, she ran into the operating room 

she ignored the questions and confusion around her and placed her hands on your body, focusing more than she ever had in her life 

a bright light filled the room for a moment before it dimmed down 

there was a pregnant pause before a nurse ran outside the OR with tears in their eyes

“it’s a miracle!” they cried. “the girl brought them back!”

izuku threw everyone off of him and rushed into the room to see you holding the crying girl in your arms, confusion in your eyes 

“izuku? what happened? why am i in the hospital and why is eri crying?”

the young hero couldnt think to do anything else but fall into your arms and sob out his fear and frustrations 

his words were near incomprehensible as he thanked eri and told you how much he loved you 

you were even more confused as you watched all your friends, the doctors, and nurses cry with relief but you just held them happy that everyone was safe

Bakugo Katsuki:

within the midst of destruction, you looked at the villain with a look that made bakugo’s heart drop 

he knew that look

and he hated it with his entire being 

that was the same look you had when you were about to do something really stupid

your eyes locked on his with a fire he knew he would never extinguish no matter how badly he wanted to 

“katsuki”

“dont even fucking think about it” he bit

you smiled despite the rising fear in his gaze. “win this.”

the cheerful wink you gave him was your goodbye

it was supposed to give him hope and courage, but all it did was make him blank with fear and rage

he was too hurt to catch up to you as you ran into the heart of the villain’s lair, sacrificing yourself so that he and the rest of the team could take the villain down 

katsuki, however, had been so blind with anger that he was able to find the villain within all the destruction

despite everything he was taught, he planned to kill them to avenge your death, but he was surprised to see them gently holding your lifeless body in their lap 

katsuki was prepared to push his body over the limit to take you from them, but the villain just held up and hand to explain why they were giving up

“this is your s/o, right? the one who came to fight a hopeless fight just so you had a chance. even though you all had hurt them at one point, they still made the ultimate sacrifice...”

“what the fuck are you on about, you son of a bitch!”

the villain gave him a look that made him pause

they then held up a jewel filled with their own life energy, something that made it almost impossible for the heroes to beat them

“perhaps i was wrong. there are true heroes in this world. it would go against everything i fought for if i let them die”

and in the next moment, katsuki watched as the villain placed the stone on your chest

they died quietly as their life energy filled your body 

katsuki rushed to catch you and he held you close, not caring about the tears that fell past his cheeks

he placed kisses wherever he could, on your face, thankful that you had been brought back to him

despite his feelings towards the villain, he respectfully covered their body and gave a prayer of thanks for giving you a second chance

you slept peacefully as he carried you out of the falling building

Todoroki Shouto:

“just as earth gave me life, in return, i have to give life back to it”

todoroki knew what those words meant, but he didn't want to believe it 

from the moment you two met, he knew of your fate 

your quirk came with a price and one day, you would have to pay for it 

and that day was today 

all the heroes had been taken down and were beaten within an inch of their lives, but you wouldn't let them go down. you wouldn't let them lose

now was your time to do what you were put on this Earth to do

you softly kissed his lips and wrapped your necklace around his neck before standing 

shouto was too weak to do anything but watch in dismay as your body withered away into the ground 

suddenly, the entire city was filled with sunlight as the wind sang and the waves danced with life. roots, plants, and trees covered the heroes’ bodies, healing them from their past wounds and instilling them with a new will to fight the enemy 

as shouto stood, a single bolt of lightning struck the hand he put in the air and it danced around him before exploding into an array of beautiful blue flames

he knew this new charge in power was supposed to be your last gift to him, but he’d be damned if he let things go this way

perhaps some type of higher power had a destiny for you in mind, but he would change fate

even if it killed him

and change it he did

when the fight was over, he abandoned his team and ran to the tree you had told him gave you a chance to meet him

when he got there, the gigantic tree stood there, almost mocking him about his loss 

shouto spent the next hour cursing and fighting the tree, demanding it do something about your death 

when he finally realized it wasn't responding, todoroki pathetically fell down into the small pond before the tree and sobbed his heart out

as he wept, he hadnt realized the necklace had fell into the pond, but he did gasp as it materialized into the water and was replaced with your body 

you rose out of the pond, violently coughing for a moment before letting out an embarrassed sound when you realized you were naked 

however, shouto, so overwhelmed with relief, embraced you in a bone-crushing hug 

you let go of your embarrassment  and hugged him back as he whispered how he’d never let you do something so stupid again

[innaminitus]

Lake

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Request: so Geralt saved y/n’s father many years ago and he called the law of surprise?? The surpsise being of course y/n and Geralt comes for her may years later when she is an adult and a sexy woman? and smut? or somethign like that THANKS! (from anon)

Warnings: smut 

Word count: 2221

A/N: toss a coin to your witcher is my new jam also i am very proud of poland finally having a decent witcher series (ale żebrowski na zawsze w naszych sercach) 

You were kneeling on the ground and just staring at him. That was basically your favourite thing to do since he called the law of surprise and took you from your home on your 23rd birthday two weeks ago. Just in time, as it turned out, since a day later the entire town you’ve lived in was slaughtered.

You just liked to look at him, that’s all. He was very handsome, after all. It was the only selfishness you could allow yourself for.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, his eyes still closed.

Your body didn’t even bother to blush. You weren’t intimidated by him.

“Because I can.”

A ghost of a smile showed on his face, but he still didn’t open his eyes.

“See anything interesting?”

Lots of things.

“A bug in your hair.” You reached to his silver, tangled hair and picked up a beetle that lost its way from the grass. The bug run away to the bushes. “I’ll go pick up some berries.”

You stood up and fixed your dirty dress.

“I’ll go with you,” he sighed and began to stand up, but you stopped him.

“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” you said, already turning away and walking to the berry bushes.

“Hmm. I doubt that…”

It wasn’t a long walk, barely five minutes away from the clearing you stopped on for the night. Last evening you’ve seen them almost bursting with juice and couldn’t stop thinking about them since.

Once you’ve reached them you kneeled and started to pick them up, carefully, not to squash them with your fingers. One after another they landed in your basket, which was soon full. You stood up, stretching your back, hurting from bending too long.

“Are you done?”

You didn’t hear him walk, so, naturally, you got scared from the sudden voice behind you. You jumped, and, naturally, tripped, falling with your face right in the bushes full of berries. And, naturally, throwing your basket at the man.

With a squeak you turned, trying to sit up, and when you managed to do so, you took the hand Geralt offered.

“I’m sorry, you scared me–“

A short laugh escaped your lips when you saw him; his hair tinted purple from the berries that you threw on him, with parts of the fruits on his face and clothes.

He wasn’t having as much fun as you, even though you were whole in berries and for sure had twigs in your hair.

“We need to go,” he just said, his jaw clenched as he wiped his face with a hand.

“I need a bath.” You wrinkled your nose. “And you, too.”

“We’ll stop at some lake or something, but now we need to go. I don’t want to spend another night here.”

*

The lake wasn’t very far, but it was far enough for the both of you to start stinking like fermented fruits and sweat. It was hot, not a single cloud on the sky, and even the protection the trees gave you wasn’t enough. Roach was barely walking in the heat, so you haven’t had the heart to ride on her.

You almost smelled the water with your senses, and run to the direction of the small lake as soon as you saw it, kicking off your shoes on the way.

The water was clear and inviting, and you forced yourself not to jump in it fully clothed. You tugged on the ribbons of your dress, but couldn’t manage to untie the corset-like back. It must’ve tangled at night.

“Geralt, can you help me with this?” You looked behind at the man guiding the horse to the water.

He silently walked to you and began to work with the ribbons. The feeling of his breath on your neck made you shiver. It seemed as if the day became even hotter.

You were trying to seduce him ever since you saw him, but he seemed not to notice it. You just weren’t sure if you were that bad at it, or if he just wasn’t interested in you. You very much hoped for the first one.

“Done,” he murmured, freeing you from the last ribbon and you didn’t hesitate to grab the material of the dress and throw it over your head, leaving you as naked as the gods have made you.

Your long hair almost touched your bottom, still leaving a nice view at it while you walked to the lake. You haven’t heard him move and the thought that he was watching you made the hotness between your legs more noticeable.

Cool water soothed your sunburnt skin, and you dived into it whole, sighing with relief, watching the berry stains melt into nothingness. The lake was shallow, in the deepest spot the water reached only your shoulders. You turned in the water to Geralt.

“Are you coming or what?” You asked, flicking your wet hair from your face.

“I’m fine.”

“You stink and have berries in your hair.”

“And I wonder whose fault is that….” he sighed and rolled his eyes, but eventually started to undress.

One layer after another the leathery parts of his clothes were abandoned on the ground, and when he took off the shirt you could shamelessly admire his muscly chest and arms. Gods he was so handsome… How could every part of him be so perfect?

“Turn around.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking to you. You blinked and your sight fell on his hand, untying the leather trousers.

“Did you turn around when I was naked?” You raised one eyebrow and immerged almost whole into water, leaving only your eyes and nose above the panel.

A smirk was all you got as an answer, but it was enough to tell you that he did not turn his gaze away.

“Y/N…” His voice was warning, but the smirk was still on his face.

“Fine.” You turned away, waving your hands in the water. “But that’s not fair.”

You heard him walk into the water and excitement overtook your body. That was probably your biggest achievement in the art of seducing; to have him naked not so far away from you.

“Can I turn now?”

“Yes.”

He was much closer than you expected him to be, but still what felt like miles away. You rinsed your hair, frustrated, doubting there was any way to actually be closer to him.

“You have leaves in your hair…” He smiled, watching you try to wash them out. “I’ll help you.”

He swam closer, and you hoped he didn’t see your blush. The clear water was transparent, and you could swear you saw him stare at your breasts for at least a second.

His fingers were more delicate than you would expect them to be when he took out the twigs and leaves, but it was the closeness of his warm chest that made you shiver. You wanted to kiss every bit of his skin, lick every scar and pain.

Your fantasies took too long. He already moved away.

Shit.

You immerged into water completely, hiding your frustration away. It was never going to happen, you had to face the truth. He wasn’t interested.

Unless he was.

You stood straight and swam a little further from him.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher,” you started to sing a song he hated so much. “Oh Valley of Plenty…”

He turned to you with anger.

“Stop it.”

“Oh Valley of Plenty, oooh.” You were swimming further and further.

“Y/N, I’m warning you, stop singing this cursed song.”

“Make me.” You smiled cockily and turned to swim. “Toss a coin to your–“ You squeaked as he swam to you incredibly fast and grabbed your waist from behind, his fingers on your lips silencing you.

“Shush.”

You could feel his scars on your stomach as he was holding you this tight. One step you could blame on clumsiness was enough to have your back fully pressed on his wide chest and his chin in your hair. You froze like this, afraid that any movement would cause him to let you go.

You were blissfully aware of every inch on your bodies touching; from the hand on your lips, his face in your hair, the hand on your belly, your back against his chest to the hard length pressed to the small of your back.

Hardlengthhardlengthhardlenght. Keep calm, Y/N.

His breathing was heavy, as if he was fighting with himself. You wanted him to lose the fight.

He twitched and quickly let you go. Only you didn’t plan on giving up.

You turned, put your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself up, to press your lips onto his. Then again. And everything would be perfect if he only gave you the kisses back.

“Geralt–“

“Stop it,” he said, but didn’t push you away.

“Why?” Your faces were still so close your lips were touching when you talked.

“This is wrong.” He moved slightly, but you moved with him. “I am your guardian.”

“I don’t need a guardian. I can take care of myself.”

“Y/N–“

“Say you don’t want me and I’ll never touch you again,” you said, backing just a millimetre to be able to look him in the eyes. He just watched you, his jaw clenched, muscles working. “You can’t.” You smiled for a second.

“I can’t,” he admitted in a husky voice.

Your insides twirled.

Dear gods…

“Then why fight it?”

His lips captured yours, surprising you. You had to throw your hands around his neck not to fall deeper into the water when he almost sunk into you, arching your back with his strong arms around you. You sucked his bottom lip and received a groan before he pushed his tongue into your lips, and you didn’t bother to fight for dominance; this fight was already lost.

His hands slid down to your thighs and he lifted you up as if you weighed less than a feather, and walked out of the water, your lips still joined. He laid you on the grass, his lips travelled lower, to your jaw and neck, leaving wet trails to the valley of your breasts.

The ground felt as the finest of beds when he kissed you this way and flicked his tongue over your nipple just to caress another with his skilled fingers. A sigh escaped your lips when you pulled his white hair and forced him to kiss you again. His lips were so perfect on yours…

He positioned himself between your legs, lifting one of if by the crook of your knee and straightened slightly. He was eating you with his sight, every inch of you. Without taking his eyes from yours he kissed your leg just above the knee and with the other hand firmly held your hip to drag you closer. Your pussy was throbbing, you needed him to fill you or else you would probably gone mad. Thankfully he wasn’t going to keep you waiting any longer. He leaned to kiss you as he thrusted in you hard, causing you to gasp. He smiled cockily, biting your lower lip.

His member was dug deep inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where it hurt, but it was the most delicious pain of your life. He pulled off and thrusted back in, hand on your hip still pressing you onto the hard ground, but you didn’t mind, you almost didn’t feel it; the only thing you were able to feel was his cock reaching so marvellously deep and his lips on yours.

Your fingers got lost in his hair as he pounded wildly, fucking moans out of you. You kissed a silent curse from his mouth when he pressed on your leg, forcing it to spread even wider. Your muscles clenched at the new angle, you weren’t able to hold back his name as pleasure started to spread hot spots all over your body. Butterflies overtook your mind, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, all you were able to do was to move your hips to his pace, to clench your muscles and shake when orgasm hit you like a wave and a loud moan woke probably every bird in the forest.

He wasn’t long behind; your movements brought him to the edge, he thrusted hard and gasped into your mouth, spilling himself deep inside of you.

Only when he let you go you could feel how indelicate he was with your body; and how much you’ve liked it. He collapsed next to you, panting.

“If I knew this damned song was enough for you to give up already, I would sing it days ago.”

“What?” He turned to you, resting on his elbow.

“Did you really not notice a thing?” You sat up and squirmed at the pain of sore muscles.

“Believe me, I noticed,” he snorted. “Only I never thought that was what you meant… It took my whole strength not to claim you.”

You lied down, laughing.

“Men truly are clueless…”

He lifted himself on his elbow and leaned over you.

“I can show you how I am everything but clueless.” A smile ghosted on his face as you kissed him.

And this time you didn’t have to sing.

 ___

tag list:

💞: @taylorswiftloverforever13 @thomasfoockinshelby​ @kaylig02 @daddyloki @it-jinxed-us @themusingsofmany @randomlea @annakohanasworld @theunofficialduke @prismroot-starlight0 @deathofmissjackson @tricksterwinchester @villanellevi @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @forgoshsake-watchyourlanguage @grace-barnes-13 @starofthedawn

[kbuggg3]

~S u p e r n a t u r a l~ CasxReader: “Crazy In Love”

IMAGINE: After risking their lives for a mysterious piece of clay, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) get a call that something happened to Cas at the hospital (s7 e21).

“Well, c’mon Meg! Give us more details! Can you at least tell me if he’s ok?... What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam angrily spoke into the phone and (y/n) and Dean exchanged scared looks as they anxiously waited to hear about the news of their best friend. Approximately an hour before all of this stress and anxiety appeared the Winchester brothers and their closest companion (y/n) Singer were hiding out in an old, abandoned jail staring at the block of clay that lay on the dust covered table.

“So what I’m getting from this is… we risked our lives for a lump of clay?” Sam looked at the girl and shrugged with a reply, “There’s gotta be more to it than just that. I mean, the Leviathans were treating it like Dean treats his car!”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Don’t judge me.” Sam just rolled his eyes while (y/n) continued to think aloud. “Maybe there's something inside?” This earned an odd look from Dean and she huffed in frustration. “Wha- Well I don’t know! I’m running out of ideas. That’s all I’ve got goin’ on up here unless one of you can think of something better.” Sam and Dean shared a look then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Dean grabbed a hammer and Sam grabbed 3 pairs of goggles, handing them out to each person. After making sure everyone had their protective eyewear on, Dean brought the hammer up into the air and struck hard on the block of clay. The moment the hammer hit the clay, causing pieces to fly everywhere, a crack of lightning, a quick rumbling of thunder was heard, and the rusty building shook for a second. The three looked at one another without speaking a word and Dean soon continued on again. Once again, he struck the clay with the hammer and thunder rumbled and the building shook. “Um is it just me or is-”

“Ya,” Sam cut in, interrupting (y/n). “That’s not normal.” Dean debated whether or not he should continue. Whatever is in this block of clay was important enough that Leviathans were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. This could be something to end the apocalypse and put a stop to the death of mankind forever. With that, Dean repeated the actions of striking the clay with the hammer despite the loud thunder, bright lightning, and violent shaking of the building.

Eventually everything went quiet and all the clay was completely gone. (y/n) opened her eyes and released her tight grip on Sam’s arm while Dean let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. The three stare down at what used to be a big pile of nothing and what now appeared to be a tablet. The tablet had golden writings or etching in it but neither one of them could make out what it was saying. It looked as if it were written in another language.

Before any of them could say one word, Dean received an urgent call from Meg that something had happened to Castiel back at the hospital and told them to meet her there ASAP. So that's what they did. Dean stuffed the tablet in a duffle bag and they got into the impala and drove off.

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

After they arrive at the hospital and sneak past a few security guards, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) finally make it to the door of Castiel’s hospital room, where Meg stands chewing her finger nails and pacing back and forth. She heard multiple footsteps and looked at the group with a sigh of relief. “It took you long enough. He’s in here.” Meg opened the door and nodded her head, giving them the ‘ok’ to step inside. They walk in and see Cas staring out the window. “Hey, Cas?” The angel slowly turns around, faces them, and replies with a short “Hello, Dean.”

Castiel looks at Sam and smiles softly. “Sam,” he says with a short nod. “Hey, Castiel.” Cas’s eyes move from the tall man to the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. That’s (y/n) Singer. Of course he has met her before. She is the daughter of Bobby Singer and an old friend of the Winchester family. She was there when Cas first connected with Dean and the taller brother and ever since then he has had feelings for her that he, as an angelic and Godly being, couldn’t quite comprehend.

To a regular human being this was a natural thing, but Cas has never experienced anything like what he experiences when he’s around her. When she flashes her perfect pearly white smile at him, he can’t help but stop mid sentence and stare at her and her beautiful eyes. When she accidentally brushes his shoulder as they pass each other or touches his shoulder as she speaks softly to him or takes his hand for comfort, his face turns color and his stomach feels like he just swallowed a bunch of butterflies. And her laugh… oh her laugh… how it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. The way she scrunches up her nose as she projects this beautiful human noise from her perfect lips makes the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a way he isn’t all too familiar with. Cas has no idea what was happening to him. If anything, he thought he was sick. But a regular human being would classify that as love. Cas was in love with (y/n).

Cas struggled to find the right words to say as he approached her and stuttered an awkward, “Hello, (y/n).” The girl fought the urge to throw herself onto him and wrap her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as she embraced him in a big hug. Instead she put a smile on her worried face and spoke to him in the soft, calming tone that he was very fond of. “Cas.” They stared at each other for a while until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to break some of the tension. “Look at you, walking and talking. That’s great right?”

Cas forcefully peeled his eyes away from the goddess before him and looked at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. The angel approached the oldest Winchester with his pointer finger towards him. “Pull my finger.” Dean looked from the outstretched finger to Cas with a very confused look on his face. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My finger,” Cas explained. “Pull it.” Dean stood there awkwardly for a moment before gripping Castiel’s finger. Cas raised his eyebrows at him as he waited for Dean to pull his finger and sure enough he did. The moment Dean did as he was told, all the lights in the room bursted and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. All of the shattered glass fell to the ground and the group stared at Cas in disbelief as he giggled to himself.

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

“So let me get this straight. You said you remember who you are? What are you?”

“Yes of course,” Cas replied. He then gasped and turned around as if he were reminded of something he meant to say a while ago. “Outside today in the garden I followed a honeybee. I saw the welt of flowers. It was all right there! The whole plan! There’s nothing to add.” (y/n) quirked an eyebrow as she watched his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle with excitement like he just got finished riding a roller coaster or running a marathon.

“And he’s been like this for how long?”

“He’s been like that naked guy at the raver ever since he woke up. Totally useless.” Meg replied and the girl just nodded her head in response. “Well, Cas, how are you feeling? Do you feel any different from before?” Cas looked to (y/n) with a look of adoration as he spoke, “Would you just look at her. My caretaker.” The brothers looked to (y/n) with questioning looks as she gave the same look to the clueless angel in front of her. “All of that thorny pain. So beautiful.”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy in love,” Cas said, sighing contently as he continued to stare at her sweetly. Of course (y/n) was flattered by this sudden affection from the angel she’s been crushing on since she first laid eyes on him, but he is obviously not in his normal Cas-like state. For all she knows this could all just be a misunderstanding and when (or if) they get him back to normal he wouldn’t even remember saying those things. After giving out long, awkward hugs and sharing random fun facts about cat penises, Cas revealed how exactly he became like this and that the tablet was The Word of God. “Ok well what does it say?” Cas crossed his arms and stuck out his lip. “No.”

“What the- Cas how old are you? Just read the friggin’ tablet!” Dean yelled frustrated.

“No.”

“Cas I swear on everything sacred if you don’t read this tablet right now so help me i will-”

“ Cas,” (y/n) spoke, cutting Dean off. Cas uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture as his facial features softened.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you please try your hardest to read this tablet? It is very important that we find out what this says. You may even help save the world if you dooo,” (y/n) bribed, singing the last part. When Cas didn’t respond she pushed a little more. “Please, Cas? It would mean the world. Can you do it for me?” She ran a hand down his arm gently as she batted her eyelashes. Cas was sure his knees were going to give out on him any second now. He grabbed her hand off of his arm and clasped it tight with both of his hands, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I would do anything for you (y/n).

Cas held up the tablet and stared blankly at it for a while. Dean began to grow impatient. “Well?” Cas cleared his throat as he began an attempt in interpreting. “Uhhhh tree…” he looked around at everyone for a second. When no one responded and continued to stare at him, obviously expecting more information, he looked back to the tablet and continued. “Horse. Fiddler crab. I can’t read it. It wasn’t meant for angels.”

“Alright,” Meg cuts in. “This all sounds bad. What are you two idiots doing with the word of God? Let me see that thing.” She takes a step towards Castiel but is stopped when Dean tells her to back off. “C’mon Dean. It’s my life on the line too.” Cas froze and stared at the ground uncomfortably with wide eyes. “I said. Back. Off. Meg.”

“Dang it enough of this ‘demons are second class citizens’ crap!” Cas suddenly cut in saying “Don’t like conflict” and teleported out of the room, letting the tablet drop to the ground and break into 3 pieces. “What the h*ll was that?” Meg just scoffed and crossed her arms. “You heard him. He doesn’t like conflict.” She flashed a cocky smile causing Dean’s jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

“You know what? We don’t have time for this crap. (y/n), you deal with the tablet, Sam, you do research on how to read this friggin’ thing, and I’ll go talk to Cas.”

“Actually, Dean.” (y/n) cut in making Dean stop at the doorway and look at her. “Maybe I should go with you to talk to Cas. You and him do have a special bond but I have a strong feeling that the little amount of patience you have isn’t going to be enough at the moment.” Sam and Meg chuckled slightly but Dean ignored them. “Ya I guess you’re right. Alright. You come with me. Sam, will you please pick up the… “Word of God”? And do not let that demon get the tablet.” Sam looked at Meg awkwardly and shrugged and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

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

After finding Cas in the main room sitting quietly at a table, Dean sat in front of him and tried to talk to him while they played a game of “SORRY!”, requested by the lost angel himself. “Alright, Cas, where can we find this ‘Metatron’ guy? Is he even still alive?”

“I-I’m sorry. I believe you have to go back to start.” (y/n) giggled, earning a glare from the oldest Winchester, making her cover it up with a cough. Dean looked at the board game in front of them on the table where Cas was pointing and begrudgingly moved one of his pieces back to start like instructed. He then proceeded in his attempt to reason with the angel. “Cas, this is important.” Cas once again pointed to the board, signalling that it was now Dean’s turn to pick up a card from the stack that was located in the middle of the board.

Dean angrily picked up a card, read it in his head, threw it down, and moved his piece to where the card told him to. “I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. Do you understand?” (y/n) could tell he was growing angry and very impatient with Cas. She quietly stood against the wall, watching anxiously. “We live in a sorry universe.” Cas held up a card that said ‘SORRY’ on it and continued to explain.

“It is engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from your misfortune?” When he spoke he moved pieces around where they belonged and carried on as if he were simply talking about the weather versus the end of the world as we know it. There was no concern or emotion or feeling in his voice as he talked- whereas Dean and (y/n) held on to every word he said as they listened intently. “But these are the rules. I didn’t make them.”

“You made some of them. When you tried to become God. When you cut that hole in the wall.”

“Dean…” The two sat there looking at each other for a while before Cas continued. “It’s your move.” At this Dean slammed his hand on the board game and swiped it off the table forcefully. “Forget the damn game!” Cas looked down at his lap meekly and (y/n) took this as her que to intervene. “Dean! Woah, woah it’s ok. Calm down.” She put a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing up and down making Cas stare. His mood quickly changed from shy to jealous as he watched (y/n) comfort Dean instead of him. Dean shook his head and stormed off leaving (y/n) and Cas alone. (y/n) took the seat Dean had previously been sitting in and looked to Cas with desperate eyes. Cas took notice of this and sat up straight with his hands folded on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

“Let's forget the game for one second. Is that ok with you?” Cas cutely looked to the side for a moment as he thought about the answer then nodded his head. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile at him. Although he wasn’t his true self right now she couldn’t help but notice how helpless and adorable he was being. He looked like a lost puppy. “Is there any way at all that you can help us?” Cas sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry (y/n). I really am.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Castiel.” He noticed her slumped shoulders and sad expression and thought of ways to try and cheer her up.

“M-Maybe when this whole thing is over with I can take you to a park.” (y/n) laughed making Cas’s cheeks heat up. “The park?”

“Ummm yes? Wait, no. I meant to say the strip club. Or was it the bar?”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” she giggled. “Well, quite some time ago Dean told me that if I liked a girl I should take her out somewhere. That and to wear protection, which is why I bring my angel blade everywhere I go,” Cas stated as a matter of factly and (y/n)’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hold back a laugh. “But it appears to me that I’ve forgotten where exactly I’m supposed to take you.”

“Wait a second. You like me?”

“Duh,” Cas chuckled and snorted as if she had told him a funny joke. “(y/n), I have been very fond of you since the day we met. Over the years you’ve made me feel things that I'm sure no angelic being has ever had the opportunity to experience. At first I was scared I was becoming ill with all the odd sensations in my stomach when you’d laugh or the muscle pains in my cheeks from smiling so much when you’d speak to me or even my face getting hot when you’d accidentally touch my shoulder. But after getting some professional advice from Dean I realized that I am truly in love with you.”

(y/n) had no idea what to say. She couldn’t believe that the angel she had fallen for after all these years had confessed to being in love with her. “Well in that case, maybe you’d like to take me to the ‘Bow Tie Bar’ right down the street here sometime.” Cas looked up, surprised that she accepted his invitation and nodded quickly. He was like a kid in a candy store. “Alright then. It’s a date.” A big smile made its way to Cas’s face along with a red tint to his cheeks. “D-Date. Right. Yes.” (y/n) laughed at his nervous stuttering and they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. She then watched as his smile slowly faded and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Um, (y/n)?”

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why exactly does the bar have a bow tie?”

[illyrian-lover-flower]

The chosen forest keeper 9

            You are no fawn, you are a caged beast

Word count ~5.9k

Mellow hues of light caressed her face as the soft melody of buzzing life lured her in, in the land of the waking. A dreamless sleep laying forgotten and abandoned, like a hurt dog, behind her as she left the realms of darkness and death long ago this night. The lazy caress of warmth stroking her face ever the softest as she slowly stirred awake, opening her eyes ever the littlest of bits, like all those vibrant blooms in summer and spring did, when the sunshine invited all these shining colours to a dance of the rainbow. But she was not able to thrive in those warm rays of life, like those graceful petals, as she herself was slowly squished to death. An Illyrian- heavy as the Cauldrons black void, that once settled around her being and sucked away her mortal life, like the air was now pressed from her lungs- pressed down on her.  

Panick slowly rose in Elain's waking body, as she tried –and failed- to wake up the still snoring Illyrian, that lay sprawled, like a carefree little baby, atop of her. Fersia might have been unbothered, but Elain was far from calm, as all those old pictures, ancient words and awful smells from last night rose once again in her, by the pure feeling of her heaviness. Letting the seer lose the grasp to reality once more as her tender fingers scraped at the skin of the female frantically, in a desperate attempt to wake her, but Fersia did not move. The fearsome female was not the one that shook as the world was torn from her again and the soft light of dawn moved to a suffocating darkness.  

A gaze of blazing caramel, that watched over every being, gleamed in the eyes of the jaybird as it flew across the golden field.  

Blood rained down its brown wings, on each vibrant yellow petal and luscious green did it land like

A never stopping rain of red tears, as those delicate wings of the graceful bird

Boomed through the air like a mighty flap of Illyrian wings.  

Screams and fire sizzled where the blood was to meet the living and slowly, like the void of the cauldron, did it suck each remaining drop of life away.

“Fersia! Please wake up! "pleaded Elain’s strangled voice through the air, once the world around her –gleaming from morning light and quiet from the night's darkness – slipped back into her wavering gaze. Heavy tears, as grave as each ruby droplet of blood that ran down from the birds' feathers, slowly crawled down her cold cheeks –leaving a searing trail of desperate cries of help in their wake- as her friend did not notice the fading colour from her face. Only when the heavy Illyrian had heard the plea of her friends' voice, did she slowly sit up –lifting her heavy head, in a lazy peek, as if she were a newly made butterfly, that now saw the world in a different perspective as she crawled out of her cosy cocoon of sleep, away from Elain’s now heaving chest. Relieve flooded the seers entire being, like a sudden burst of sunlight after a heavy rain storm, as she was to have her space again “Thank the mother.”  

“What was that?” echoed the tired voice of Fersia through the silent little hut, still oblivious to the knowledge that she had nearly guided the seer into another part of this new world – one where ghosts sung and air was a none existent asset. “Oh, it was nothing.” crocked Elain out, as her delicate chest heaved for air.  

Calm. Peace.  

She thought as those drowsy eyelids sunk down again, luring the soft colours of dawn into an eternal grave of blackness. A blackness she felt all too familiar with, a blackness that had already tugged at her very being ever so gently, that she could not help it but to adore this wonderful feeling of calmness and peace that settled inside her like a sleepy cat, that slowly crawled into her lap and decided to take its rest there.  

A smile tugged at the seers' lips, as this calming feeling, changed the place with the void of dread.  

She knew it was a feeling of momentarily easiness, but she would savour the sensation of it as long as she could and no prying pair of eyes that rested on her form could make her lose this steadiness.  

“What is it?” mumbled Elain still, as those heavy forest eyes did not want to leave her.  

“Oh, it’s nothing.” echoed Fersia her words from before, sleep still dripping from her voice as she plopped down once again on the seer. This sharp chin of hers resting on the delicate chest of the fawn, as the Illyrian wanted to settle for sleep once again “You make me lazy...” droned her voice through the heavy bones of her friend, who could not help but to giggle at her. “Oh, really – I had thought you were always lazy.”  

Fersia merely harrumphed at her sweet mockery and rolled on her left side, her heavy arms slung around the delicate curve of Elain's hips, as she was to rest in the strong one's arms. And again, could Elain not help the giggle, which's sound came close to the sweet smell of honeysuckle, as the Illyrian insisted on sleep – seemingly oblivious to the rosy colours of dawn that slowly melted through the sky like honey into milk.  

But yet Elain could not be bothered to press her to join her in the dance of the waking, as she knew that she had very urgent matters to attend, but the seer did not want to face them yet.  

Did not want to face a river of blazing red blood, that slowly crawled down the black walls like pitch, while she could have golden calming peace that made her feel save in this world. A feeling she rarely had, as she knew that all of her family had a target, as large as the sun, on their backs and even though hers might have not been as big and blazing, it was rather dark and the size of a large plate – she still knew it was there. Resting on her back and mocking her with the knowledge that she would always be the damsel in distress, someone who she hoped she could get rid of, but apparently, she did not want to lose the picture-perfect frame of innocence in which she had locked herself for her family.  

The urge to prove her family with all her grace, that she would not be in the need of training, slowly drifted her apart. Fragments of her soul slowly crawling far from each other –just like the continent and Prythian once had.  

Elain knew that the target would never be gone, would never vanish and would never stop mocking her, but still she could not help as to think that this plate on her back – had lost its voice once Fersia had brought her here. Gifting the seer, the greatest of things she could have ever asked for – a new life.  

A life in which she would not have to pretend, a life in which she could act and do however she felt, a life in which she had a choice – a life that she chose.  

And Fersia, the one who was so much like both of her sisters, was the one to bring her here, as she freed a little budgie from its golden cage and Elain was sure to show the female, that the bird she set free would not stay a helpless little budgie, but that she would spread her wings and turn into a mighty eagle, proving all of those who live here just how much she had wanted this, how much she wanted to improve. And now was the right time to spread those still delicate wings, as she shook the silently snoring female awake.  

“Fersia, come on – we have to go to your Mother. I think it are urgent matters we have to attend.” “Ugh … fine.” complained Fersia, but she still crawled her way out of bed. Striding to the dark bath chamber like a lazy cat, as each of her steps had a soft sway to it. Those naked feet of hers touching the membrane of her wings ever the briefest as those mighty fins were pulled to the floor by gravity.  

The seer gently shook her head at her, like the heads of her flowers would do whenever wind was to dance through them. But she was no flower, she would become a steady and mighty tree, a powerful eagle and a female who deserved the love of the Cauldron – as much as she despised that thing, as much did she want to prove that she was suited for the gift that was given to her.  

Her times of disappointment lay long forgotten behind her, even if the one she would disappoint would be the thing that crafted every vein, through which hate cruised for it, in her being.  

It was time for Elain to rise.  

And only for Elain, not the Archerons – she knew she had given that name away the moment she stepped over the cliff and was caught by Fersia again. The only things that fell this day were her ring of iron, through which the connection to the mortal lands meandered, like the Sidra through Velaris, and her name. Archeron, she would no longer carry this name. Would no longer shoulder the burdens this name had brought – false expectations, false smiles, a mate –as sweet and charming as he was- she had never asked for and a life full of lies. She would no longer carry these lies, as she knew that here, they were no burden anymore. Here no one, besides Fersia, knew her name, though not even the though Illyrian, who changed in the bath chamber, knew of her existence as the middle Archeron – sister of the High Lady, Cauldron blessed and loved, and sister of the fierce female that caused havoc in Windhaven.  

Not even Fersia knew of that. She only saw Elain as the sweet healer who had fiercely insisted on taking care of the wounds of a half-dead Illyrian, who hissed at her to take her filthy hands away. And Elain did not feel like as if she had to change that, after all, Elain Archeron was dead. The only one who remained was Elain.  

Elain the fawn, healer and flower grower.

 No sister anymore and only the slightest bit of Cauldron loved. She was her own now, and was everything she ever wanted to be – an easy female, without the eyes of Prythian on her back, as she was expected to act like the helpless, sweet older sister of the High Lady of night, she was expected to be the gentlest of them all, the one with the fairest of beauty that even the Cauldron had bend before her and had gifted her its love.

Now, no pair of eyes would trace her, only the lost Archeron, but never her –Elain, the real her.  

And here, where she could crawl out of bed and dress herself in the plain dress of ivy green, she could be the person she always wanted to be. Layers of cotton meeting her slender legs, as they were to dance around them as she slipped the skirts over her naked legs, like she once had slipped her masks layer for layer over her true self. Elain smiled at the feeling of the plain fabric, of the inconspicuous design of the whole dress, so light against her skin, compared to the burdens she had placed each morning upon her shoulders as she slipped under these masks.

It was so different to what she wore in the river estate, that her sisters might as well had mistaken her for another person, if they were to ever meet again.  

But something had wondered the seer, once she pulled the long, green shirt from Fersia, over her head. It was not the cold, that slowly waved against her naked chest, that had wondered her, but the small crown, that glowered dark and threatening on top of her left breast. Elain slowly pulled the green fabric of the shirt in front of her chest, as to cover up most of herself, while she slowly traced the crown of thorns with her free hand. Her fingers were a caress, that moved over the peeks of thorns, like the sun over her once so beloved rose bushes. Though it did not seem like sunlight would ever want to caress this crown of black ink, as a small mist of shadows chased away the light and befogged her delicate fingertips in a mellow mist of black.  

This marking threw Elain a bit off, but the amazement for the dark circle of thorns, that wrapped around her thundering heart, still overweight it. But this sudden trance snapped like a breaking rubber, once she heard Fersia curse aloud in the bath chamber.  

Looking up from the trace of thorns, like a caught fawn, did she slowly put on the rest of her clothing with hazy fingers and rushed to the origin of Fersias cursing, only to find her sitting on the remaining's of the small stool Elain had only seen yesterday, standing a bit old and used, beside the sink.  

The stool looked even smaller now – squished and destroyed into pieces – under Fersia’s heavy form, that sat still baffled among the remaining's – such clear confusion written across the normally grumpy female, that Elain couldn’t help as to give way to the warm bubbly feeling inside her chest. A lough, as golden as honey, spilling like water from her lips as she held onto her stomach. Fersia could only laugh with her as she watched her lovely Goldenrod shake and cry from laughter, not even the slightest bit of rage had simmered inside the Illyrian as her friend suddenly burst out laughing – like it normally would have happened.

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

The rest of the morning, sweet and golden, like it hadn’t been since centuries, glowed warm over the deep green tip of the large pine trees, simmering from gentleness and warmth throughout all their breakfast as they slowly prepared for the visit to the Mother.  

Somehow Fersia doubted that the mighty female would even want to see the intruder again, before she would send her off and far away from their home –if not even kill her in an accident before she was able to leave. It send chills down the Illyrians mighty body as Elain herself, did not seem fond of the idea to meet the frightening female from yesterday again, as they marched slowly through the mud of her little Village. Whispers and hushed voices following them like shadows the sunrays, as they were to finally stand in front of the giant hall again, dark and threatening did it savour all the light that was to meet the dark surface of the stones – just like it did since centuries, perhaps even millenniums.

No one, not even the Mother, was sure of the age this place harboured – yet everyone amongst their kind knew, that this hall was cruelty incarnate, as not even the mightiest of Illyrians and War-lords wanted to encounter this place in their nightmares. Deeming it as a bad omen whenever they did – and mostly they were right. Plagues, foreign soldiers marching among their ground or just a bad harvest, were all such things which could happen once they were to encounter this place in their dreams. Most were able to escape those heavy dark gates in the fort of dreams – though they remembered this place with the same misery as Elain now, as she eyed the heavy doors again – while others did not have the chance to talk about what they had seen. Fear having caught their heart in an eternal run as this place sucked their life away, like a mosquito drank blood.

Fersia could only hope that today's visit would be different than yesterdays, as she slowly opened the gates to the castle of nightmares again, careful to always have an eye on Elain once her booted feet stepped tentatively over the dark threshold.  

“Come on, Goldenrod, you should already be familiar with the way.” tried Fersia to encourage her friend into walking. It was a feeble try to get her sweet flowers smile back, who merely took her outstretched hand again, but somehow Elain still tried to give her a faint smile – a weak dust of her normal golden beam- but it was still there. Her will – her silent bravery – was still there, and Fersia would try her best to let it stay where it was, or even grow, as she dragged her once again through the greedy stomach of this dark serpent of a house, until they were face to face with the door, as tall as a mountain. High and threatening did it lurk in front of the threshold of fear, her Mother waited – with bloody red lips – behind those wings of cold darkness, like the devil in hell awaited, with each passing moment, a crippled soul he could torture. Sadly, it was the same with her Mother, though Fersia could only hope – at the depth of the roots of these grounds – that she would have mercy on Elain.  

After all, Fersia wasn't able to pin point the seers reactions too, if anything was to happen. She always seemed happy, most often did this far away gaze fog over her eyes – a wisdom, far beyond her years, taking over this sweet dainty body of her friend – too, but sometimes – sometimes there lurked hurt and something far more dangerous behind her eyes. A storm of rage and hurt seemingly turning this calm land of earth, in her eyes, into a swirling storm of sand. Darker and lighter specks of brown flying around in her irises, as if they were a mirror to her soul – showing the outside of her inner war – while she stood rigid as death in the vibrating song of the sunrays. Not even a strand of her, normally, so bouncy hair dared to move, whenever those emotions swirled through her, as if they were afraid, that if they would only meet her eye – they would be torn to pieces.  

Perhaps this rage, and quiet storm, would rise like the sun this morning did – bright and warm- though she assumed, that even though Elain’s rage might be of a blinding light, but it would never be warm. Hot and searing, would her rage burn flesh and blood from the bones of her opponent.  

It was a strength she rarely showed, yet it was there, and those who dared to step into this field of a brooding volcano would be sure to burn themselves to death, as the seer would roast them. Something the Illyrian would have loved to see, with every fibre of her being, if she wouldn’t have known that on the receiving end sat her Mother, who already was a brooding volcano when she was not angry. But now, all they could do, was to wait and see, how these two opposites would face each other.  

When Fersias knuckles, heavy as stone, drummed quietly against the door, she expected Ria and Derna to open it from the inside, as they did not stand, stiff as a salt pillar, next to each dark wing that led to the stomach of the serpent like house, but no one seemed to have heard her, as those heavy doors did not open up. And so, Fersia pushed the door open herself. Those calloused fingertips of hers, already blind to the touch of searing warmth, which meandered through the stone gate.  

Her feet were not even past the threshold, when her Mothers voice, roaring and mighty, met her rounded ears “Fersia! I wish to speak to our guest alone!” “But … ““I will not hear any further complain” her voice dripped of command and consequences if she was to disobey “You are to leave this instant! I remember that your training is calling for you.”  

Fersia could do nothing but growl – her wings tugged in tightly as she tried to protect herself and the female behind her – as she did not even see a glimpse of the female sitting proudly atop her century old throne. Of the age of this thing Fersia was certain, it was built by her mother – the one who used to love and care for her – during a darker time of history, a time where she still was an innocent Illyrian, one that followed and never second guessed a decision – like she did now. Everything inside of her screamed to stay, to further block the path to the female on the throne, but she was to obey, as a searing wave of magic had hit her face.  

Growls were the last thing that were exchanged between the two females, as the fawn was led into the territory of the huntress, but now Fersia could do nothing more.  

If she was to disobey, they were both in trouble, considering that she was most likely to be killed and Elain left open as a prey to the rest of their tribe, like this, there was still a small chance, which promised a chance of life for the two of them, as her Mother was known to often make rushed decisions, but never too recklessly – and killing a stranger, without the knowledge of heritage, was a danger not even she would summon.

And so, it was up to her sweet Goldenrod to decide over her fate, as the Illyrian was to leave her behind a slamming door – her feet already stomping through the great hallways – as she could not change the queer feeling inside her guts, that not only the gate to the world of nightmare had closed.

__________________

It was again there, the feeling, searing and lurking had it waited for her and jumped her the moment she crossed over the threshold. As tentative and shy her step might have been, the magic had identified her once again, and where it was biting and searing yesterday, it seemed snuggly and warm – almost like a cat, that purred for her attention – as she moved through the serpent's hallway today. Quietness seemed to have ensued every step, she and Fersia made, until she was to hear the exchange of growls.  

Growls, deep primal sounds, that was all she heard, as the words seemed drowned out by the fuzzy warmth of the red fur stola of magic, that wrapped itself around her head. And then, the next thing she knew, she stood alone in the dark hall.  

Torches – just like yesterday – danced and licked with their warm light at the sleek stone walls of a black darker than any nightmare as they were to lighten up the stuffy room. Heat, sizzling and hot, radiated through the air and waved even up to the tapered ceiling, but the heat did not come from the fire, no.  

Eyes, as blood as the red of the setting sun, glowered in the dark at her. Marking each quiet shift and uneasy twist of the fawn as possible hint of what she might do next – it almost felt like as if this female, mighty and powerful, harboured the fearsome sight of the future too. Though the Illyrian would have not needed it in order to scare someone, if Elain was honest – at least not for her. Her stomach, as filled as it was, already dropping at the sight of pure colour that radiated through the room and off of the female, in flowing waves.  

Skirts of blood red chiffon dropped layer for layer, from the dark leather banter around her chest, like a wave of blood, that slowly – almost agonisingly- ran down her tanned body and pooled, once again, to a puddle of blood at her mighty feet. Everything of this female felt too powerful, too frightening, too … wrong, from the tip of her sharp, golden glowing talon – atop of her broad wings- to the devils' smirk on her red painted lips, that showed off those white fangs, and her whole posture. The way she held herself –head high and chest rigid- she knew who she was and what her power could do and Elain was just a little mouse, that walked into the home of the serpent. She didn’t even think of it as necessary to put on her crown (she surely must have head one) for her.  

“Greetings, dear Goldenrod.” echoed her voice through the dark hall, setting fear running inside her heart, as the Illyrian beckoned her, with a strong hand, closer. If the seer was tentative before, then what was she now? What was not even a dust from the security she felt before? What was she now? Nervous, frightened?

She didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, this nickname- sweet and caring as it was- felt wrong in her ears, from the females' tongue, as if the power in her voice – the pure might- made the name sound toxic, not healing – like it always did whenever Fersia called her by the name of the sweet flower.

“Elain.” echoed now her grave voice through the room, no fear trembled through her name as she spoke and the female merely lifted an eyebrow.  

“Well, Elain” she emphasised “I assume Fersia hadn’t told you much about me.” She didn’t even wait for the fawns answer as she rose from her throne, a mountain of a female, that was the one who stood before her, as she slowly – almost predatorily – strolled down the little pedestal and stood still and unwavering, like the sun, in front of Elain. “I am Kasedja and I am the Mother of the Angisciri-tribe.”  

Her wings, colourful as any kaleidoscope, shone lilac and reddish down on the seer, once she had flared them brightly, though it was only a distraction. One Elain could have foreseen, if she wouldn’t have been that adamant with keeping her visions untrained and in raw power, but she hadn’t and now the result was this: a hand, with the grip of a crow's claw, tearing red streaks into the skin of her pale cheeks, over which the dust of freckles was powdered, while her red painted mouth whispered almost searing words into the pointed tip of her ear, “And you, little fawn, are not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about!” growled Elain at her, anger knitting itself through the pale skin on her face, as she narrowed her eyes at Kasedja –who seemed to have never heard of private space. She knew it was unlikely for her to be angry, to have such a primal noise even exceed in the quietest of ways over her lips, but she tried to start a new, which also meant to try out these new aspects of herself she had discovered. Such colourful aspects, which were yet dusted, as she had to explore these emotions, she had buried a life time ago in a human body.  

Kasedja only laughed at her, as she started to stalk like a cat around the room – quiet mischief dancing in those eyes that set her stomach churning “Well, Elain, I am wondering – if you plan to stay here, how long do you plan on fooling my second in command, for how long do you want to keep lying to her?” the Illyrians voice was low, dripping from silent mockery and a smirk Elain couldn’t make out, as she had turned her mighty wings towards her, while a Torch – next to her throne- had woken more interest in the Mother, than in Elain. “I am not fooling anyone!” “So, now you are fooling yourself too?” mocked her mighty voice.  

And even though Elain did not want to believe this, did not want to listen to these words, she still knew that Kasedja was right. She had lied to Fersia, plenty of times, had hidden the truth from her – already more times than the seer lived years- and just now she knew, that if she would keep on doing this, she would lose her only friend she had now. She wasn’t able to go back to Velaris, Elain knew that if the hurt looks of her family – due to her behaviour – washed over her, that the churning tides and sharp stones in the sea would have hurt her less.  

She could only stay here, here where she wanted to build up a life, she had chosen to build for herself. But still, Elain might have given up the name Archeron, yet she didn’t lose her stubbornness, which was just about to break through the layer of self-control, like a diver through the water surface.

“You are one to talk! How many of your people know of what has happened inside the forest?!”  

Kasedja turned in a raging cloud of red, before she stomped – fast as a lightning- through the mellow golden light of the fire over to her. “You better keep your mouth shut about things you have no clue of!”  

Elain huffed a hot cloud of air out and into the room of blazing fire filled with nightmares, as she looked into the churning eyes of the female that stood, shaking from rage, in front of her. “I know what you are trying to do.” echoed her voice solemnly through the buzzing air, but Kasedja did not even want to acknowledge the delicate high fae anymore as she rolled her eyes and threw a lose strand of her ink black hair, in a lazy movement, over her strong shoulder. “Do you?”

The seer tried to ignore the searing wall of hurting words that slowly build itself brick for brick up in her -ready to break the steeled surface of self restraint Elain had crafted over the years inside of her- but that steel was too hard. Had withheld already too many searing words, as that these words could have been of any difference to this cold surface. “I can at least imagine.” spoke the seer with a steeled spine. Words, as soft as the petals she loved oh so dearly, would not spill from her mouth anymore, as she knew that a prettied-up truth was a half lie too, and Elain decided she did not want to feed those pretty lies to anyone anymore.

No guilt would sliver down her cold spine, making her aware of the words she just spoke, anymore. The truth often hurt, but it was better than a soft lie that could catch up any day to someone – a brick, rocky and hard, meeting the softened head of someone who was told the wrong thing.  

“You try to protect your people.” Elain held her small, straight nose a bit higher as her pale hands fisted the soft fabric of her green dress “You are their Mother, and as their leader it is your duty to protect those who bow to you, which are all these females here – even those who died bowed in front of you till their last breath. Yet you deny the truth! You seek lies in order to prevent your people from asking what had happened to their beloved ones. You keep telling yourself you do this to protect and not hurt them, but do you really prevent them from hurt and not just yourself?”

“How are you supposed to know of this!” hissed Kasedja at her, as she started to walk on heavy feet, with clanking boots, like a hungry tiger, in front of her throne, this strong –almost arrogant face of hers- twisted in a landscape of rage “You are a nobody! You have no idea what it means to protect, what these people have for connections with one another! You, Elain, are just some happy-go-lucky kid, who got chosen by luck! I do not need your advice – like you said it, I am their Mother and I decide that we do not need your help!”  

“Those Illyrians are dying and each of you is in grave danger if you keep being oblivious to what is happening outside there! You have to talk to them –with honest words- they are your family after all, if you won’t tell them now, they might never trust you again.” Her desperate, almost pleading, voice rang through her own ears like a shill screech, that transported her many months back. Months in which she had to plead for something which was rightfully hers – her freedom.  

It was a walk, a simple stroll through Velaris, she wanted to make, but she was locked away into the grand river estate. Feyre and the rest of the Inner circle, had left in the wake of dawn, when even Elain still tossed and turned in her sheets, for the Court of Nightmares – having let her behind once again. If it would have only been that, Elain would have had no problem,she was used to being left behind, but she was left in the house. No open window, no door, had let her past into the world of mother nature. Her garden had been in full bloom this day, but she was left to watch those flowers from afar, as she hammered against the invisible barrier, which honed her with the delightful beauty of her garden. Back then she had not been able to hear the dull sound her fist had made, whenever she set the surface rippling, but she heard those cries that had left her, had felt every screech like a fire in her throat as she begged to be let out, but no one heard her – no one came for her. She had been locked the entire day and the entire day did she spend pounding and crying against the cold wall that seemed to laugh at her, as she sank onto the cold tiles of white marble.  

It was the same with these people – they were locked away from the truth and the chance was high – that just like Elain never truly forgave Feyre- they would never be able to forgive those lies which were spoken by their Mother, but apparently Kasedja did not want to hear of this as she firmly stated “You are not to get your filthy fingers into the business of my tribe, I do not need the advice from a beast! Get out and be glad I’ll let you stay here! But I swear, if one word moves past your pretty lips –I'll cut out your tongue personally.”

“I am no beast -” whispered Elain merely, as she followed the order with heavy eyelids and moved to the grand entrance again. It was no use – she could not convince a rock to move- it was better to let the headstrong Illyrian be, as to get herself into more trouble than she could afford, yet she could not withhold some of the searing words, which moved past her barrier of steel as mere pebble stones: “I was merely fed up with pretty lies.”  

“Yet you still have their shattered lives in your claws, beast.” honed the mighty voice of the female through the searing air a last time, as Elain squeezed herself through the tight gap between the dark wings of the broad gate.

___________________ previous chapter | next chapter _________

Dear Jesus Christ, I am so, so sorry I havn’t posted the chapter in time, but I still hope you liked it😊 And as always, theories are always welcome as well as general feedback.

Oh, and before I forget it - can I please call each of you out! There are already 100 hundred of you following me😘😘🥰🥰 and I can’t decribe the feeling of sheer happiness inside me( I am just one big shiny, happy rainbow right now😊) Anyway, I am planning to do something as a special piece of writing and I can’t wait to share it with you. 

I hope you have a nice day/night and again hope you enjoyed

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[yezielmoore]

Day 8: Adroit

Here i am, with more Kaito. I'm really enjoying fleshing out this boy. This is set in HW, in between Ravana and the Antitower. don't ask me what 3.patch it was, i can barely remember what i did yesterday.

~.~.~

adj. 1. expert in using the hands or body; 2. cleverly skillful, resourceful, or ingenious:

It was a nice sunny day in Idyllshire and the reunited scions were making use of a bit of downtime to restock on potions, ethers and several other knick-knacks, questioning the locals about the terrain of the Hinterlands post Calamity, or they were simply taking the respite for what it was.

He should be doing the same, Thancred admitted to himself. However, Krille would undoubtedly know everything there was to know about their path forwards by the time they reconvened, Y’shtola could argue and outbargain everyone, even the minions of that witch, Rowena, and he had no idea where Alphinaud could be, but it had become evident that the lad had matured a great deal in their time apart so he was probably being useful somewhere.

Unlike himself. He was simply too wound up to rest and too worried to focus, so he was strolling under the sun, taking in the many changes this place had gone through since being abandoned. It was equal parts weird and nostalgic.

That was when he spotted Kaito sitting cross legged under the shade of a tree, away from the main streets. Thancred hesitated. He was in need of a distraction, true, but unnecessary intruding on one of his friend's rare moments of peace felt terribly rude. Luckily, he was spared from making a decision as Kaito, sensing he was being observed, looked up and inclined his head in invitation.

He approached and noted with surprise that what he had thought was Kaito fiddling in boredom was, in fact, Kaito doing some pretty intricate repairs to his armor. It explained why he was dressed down, so to speak.

“You are good at that,” Thancred admired with some surprise.

It’s not that he believed Kaito was only good for fighting primals and imperials, far from it. They had been friends once, before the Dalamud shattered like an egg, freeing its terrible prisoner, and the other disappeared without trace from the battlefield. He hadn’t even remembered him for the longest time. And then he reappeared, bearing a different name, no memories and in possession of the echo.

Thancred had sworn to himself back then to extend the hand that once had been extended to him. Sadly, plans have a way to go awry for Thancred at the drop of a hat. That specific time the spanner in the works had been Lahabrea. And by the way, possession by Ascian? 0/10 stars, do not recommend.

Grey eyes flickered up before refocusing on the lacquer he was painstakingly applying to one of his gauntlets as he nodded in acknowledgement, a small satisfied smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“I can help with your armor, if you wish,” he offered cautiously.

That caution in his voice was their fault. The scion’s fault. The return of a friend only for them not to be the person they remembered anymore? Not a great time, if he was honest. All of them had tried to be objective, truly they had, but in the end they hadn’t hid their initial dismay very well, and somewhere along the way they had forgotten to explain themselves. It wasn’t Kaito that was the problem, simply… them and that damned nostalgia.

With a sigh Thancred sat down, back to the tree but still in full view of his companion.

“Much appreciated,” he said with a wry smile. “I tried my best to cobble up some decent armor but…” he shrugged. The bulk of his hard earned money had gone into his daggers, the rest he had scrounged up little by little in the intervening time, which meant that the quality was… dubious at best. But better than naked, for sure.

Kaito eyed him critically before nodding to himself.

“It’d take more time than we have right now to make something new, but I can fix it up, sure.”

Silence fell between them as Kaito grabbed an unfinished piece of armor and started his work anew. Thancred was content to sit on his curiosity and just watch him work in silence. It was quite mesmerizing to be perfectly honest, the way he buffed up dents, filled in cracks and then applied some sort of material to make it better, more resilient.

“You can ask,” Kaito said drily. “I can almost feel the question burning in your mind from here.”

Thancred spluttered, internally embarrassed at being so easily read. Not that he had been trying to hide his thoughts exactly, it was simply a habit to do so, and not one easily broken.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing important…”

Kaito raised an eyebrow at him and he relented. “I was simply wondering when you picked up…” he gestured at the warrior, “all of that. Armorcraft, smithing, goldsmithing even and, if you intend to fix my armor, then you also know leatherworking and clothcraft. You’re quite good too,” he pointed out the finished pieces that were positively gleaming.

Kaito hummed, pleased.

“It was after I disembarked. I had nothing back then, no plan, no memories, just the clothes the captain gave me and then refused payment for,” he confessed with no inflection in his voice, eyes fixed on the repetitive movement of his hands. He paused for a moment. “Except that isn’t quite true, I had my life and I had the armor I had been wearing when the spell spat me in the middle of the ocean, luckily within sight of a merchant vessel.”

“How did you not drown?” Thancred exclaimed, equally surprised and horrified.

“I almost did, truth be told,” Kaito said with a shrug, as if the fact that his first memory was of nearly drowning wasn’t anything more than a footnote in his story. Which, yeah, fair point. “I didn’t die, in any case. However, I was left with the terrifying knowledge that I had a life to live and no idea in which direction to go and that my only clue was a waterlogged set of armor,” he chuckled to himself. “Lucky for me, Limsa is home to the armorer and blacksmith guilds and the rest is history.”

“Huh.” There was so much information contained there, but Thancred knew a sore spot when he saw one and, unlike his fellow scholars with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, he knew when to stop asking questions.

“Did you fix the armor?”

Kaito smiled bitterly. “For a certain definition of fixing.”

Ok, so he mostly knew when to stop asking questions.