#it is not the air itself but the wind is damn strong and that makes it feel so cold

[kaddyssammlung]

[randomdragonfires]

If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 | To See You Again

SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.

Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY

WORD COUNT | 2k

Text Divider by @saradika

They had been running for three days now.

Slivers of moonlight pierced through the dense canopy above. The twisted and gnarled branches of trees, like skeletal fingers grasping for the Seven Heavens, cast their eerie shadows across the forest floor. The tangled roots snaked across the damp earth and moss clung to the ancient trunks like a dark shroud.

The air was heavy with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, mingling with the sweet aroma of wildflowers that dared to bloom amidst the darkness. Faint whispers seemed to echo through the tangled undergrowth, as if the very forest itself held secrets long forgotten.

As they ascended the hill, the terrain grew steeper, the path narrow and treacherous. Each step was a struggle against the relentless pull of gravity, the earth slick with dew beneath their feet. Aemond held onto her hand as tightly as she could - she hadn’t allowed him to touch her initially, having been in shock at being abducted from the arms of her betrothed - but there was only so much a defeated, tired princess could do on her own.

She panted from exertion. The blood on her face was dry now – he’d needed to hurt her to get her to comply. She looked at him with all the anger that he knew she was never capable of, and a forgotten corner of his mind yearned for an easier time when she’d held different feelings for him.

In an ideal world, there would have been no war. He could have married her, just as he’d promised in the protected darkness of the nights in hidden chambers and intimate correspondences. They could have been happy.

Though his thirst for vengeance was screaming at him, a small part of his mind wished for a quieter time; a time that would never come.

His family was dead, and he needed her to balance the scales. He owed Helaena that much. He owed Aegon that much. Mother, Daeron, Criston, sweet Jaehaerys, and Maelor - all his kith and kin. He had failed them all.

He would be damned to all Seven Hells before letting their deaths mean nothing.

At the hill's summit, the forest parted, revealing a precipice that loomed over the land below. The distant glimmer of moonlight danced upon the surface of a winding river, its waters black as night. He let go of her, and she fell to her knees, relishing the feeling of a flat surface and slower breaths as she bid her heart to slow down. He watched her ears perk up as she heard the crunch of his boots over the dry leaves, stalking towards her in that catlike stealth that he had taught himself to have.

He took her by surprise as he tightened his arm around her chest and grabbed her by the neck, making her body twitch in fear as she rose involuntarily. At the edge of the abyss, he turned her around to face him as he let the cold steel of his blade kiss her skin and travel over her frayed white dress from neck to navel.

How did we come to this?

She did not recognize the man in front of her.

He was the boy who had brought her books when her brothers teased her to the point of crying; who had kept her company in her grief of being a dragonless Targaryen; who had held her hand and promised that he would marry her; the one who had come rushing to her the night he claimed Vhagar, promising to take her on a ride.

He was the man who had taunted her and her brothers' parentage at a family supper; who had kissed her senseless in a lone passageway the very same night when he found out that Rhaenrya had no intention of letting him have her. He was the man who had killed sweet, mischievous Luke; the one whom she had left behind when she had been sent to the North; the one whom she had hoped would come and take her away, against all odds.

So many memories tied to him, inexplicably. And yet, she did not recognize the man in front of her.

As a boy, he had had such striking eyes - in color, but more so in the volatility of their regard. Always flitting about, looking for things to imbibe, to brand into his memory. His functional eye had grown different since she had last seen him - distant, devoid of the charming curiosity that would shine in his violet orb.

The eye of a war-worn murderer. He had probably brought her here because he wanted to kill her too.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she whispered the words, almost uncertain. The coldness of his Valyrian steel dagger made goosebumps rise up on the planes of her skin, and yet, she surprisingly found that she was scared, not in the least.

He smirked and leaned in close to her, the leather strap of his eyepatch grazing her temple as she let the warmth of his breath bloom over her face. He raised the blade to her neck and teased her, being so bold as to let out a throaty, exhausted laugh that sounded more maniacal than anything else. She shut her eyes closed, hoping that if she could keep her world dark, she could pretend that this was all a nightmare.

She had often dreamt that he would take her away. She had hoped and hoped and hoped, and now that he was here, she couldn’t fathom how wrong she had been to wish for it.

Silly little fool.

“Sharp, sweet niece.”

His tone made her flinch. His voice was rough and predatory - so much so that she couldn’t tell if it was him or the situation itself that made her feel that way. “You’re supposed to be dead. Daemon….”

Her voice was lost in the air as he raised his eyebrow, a menacing smile in place as he pressed the blade into her skin - just enough to make a few blood red spots bloom. “I killed him. He thought he was better than me, the old fool. I stabbed him in his right eye, the very one that I lost. Vengeance, dear niece…” His thumb collected the first drop of blood that dripped from where he had made his mark, “... makes for the sweetest of spoils. And I intend to taste more of this victory…”

It happened on instinct, her reaching out to hold his wrist tight through his shirt. The irony of taking the hand of the man who wanted to hurt her and counting on him to not let her fall was not lost on her; but if she didn’t, she was sure she would faint.

“...With you.”

The last words confused her, having her mind scrabbling to piece the puzzle and figure out his intent. “Me?” She leaned her head back to breathe and put some space between her and his blade, but that only spurned him more as he pulled her to him by the back of her neck.

“Aegon, Helaena, Criston, Jaeherys, Maelor, mother…vengeance for them all. When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him, and then I’ll kill the little boy that you call a King. Take what is rightfully mine and avenge them.”

The Aemond she had known was too calculated, too weary to tell anyone anything at all. But this, this wasn’t her Aemond. This was a different man - a mad killer, a stranger; one that intended to use her in his rage-filled path to regicide and revenge.

When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him. 

She could only think of one man who would come looking for her. Her betrothed, Cregan Stark - the same man who had shown her Northern hospitality and shared his home and hearth so she could be kept safe away from the bloodshed of the war.

And Aemond wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill them all and take the Iron Throne.

“Gods…”

She had always felt compelled to help during the war. She wasn’t a skilled warrior, nor was she a bold woman. Dainty little sweetheart, her mother used to call her. How can I manage to keep you safe and sound?

She had always wanted to help her mother - be a good daughter and play her part in helping her sit the Throne, as was her birthright. When she had been sent to the North as Cregan Stark’s betrothed, Rhaenyra Targaryen had told her that this was her duty, her contribution to the Blacks’ victory.

You will help me win by keeping my mind at ease about you, child, she had said. You will help me win by staying safe and bringing the Northerners’ allegiance to our cause. 

That had been her contribution, but it hadn’t been enough. Daemon, Luke, Jace, Joffrey, Rhaenys… they’re all dead. She had done what she could, and it was not enough.

And now, Aemond wanted to kill sweet Aegon. Her beloved brother, the little one who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would make a fine king, she knew - but not if Aemond was going to lure Cregan out to fight and make him vulnerable to attacks.

She’d be damned to all Seven Hells if she let him win.

He had been observing her, it seemed. As she let her thoughts sweep her away, he had taken to watching her, reminding himself of every inch of her. She raised her hand to his warm dry cheek, bony from what could have only been a lack of proper food. How long has he been staying here, amidst the trees?

“You don’t have to do this, uncle. Let me go now, and it’ll be like it never happened. There’s been enough bloodshed.”

She thought she imagined it, but she knew it was true when she felt his grip on the blade falter for just a moment. She made good on his momentary lapse and kicked his knee to fold under him with all her might. He fell, and she took hurried steps away from him as he grunted in pain.

Her skirts swirled as she turned just slightly, sneaking a peek off the edge of the hill. If she jumped, she would fall into the waters that ran below - but would that be enough? She’d have to die. She had to. She would not let him use her; she would not let him kill them.

This was her contribution to the war. Her deceased mother’s victory lay in her daughter’s ability to keep the rightful king alive. This was her chance, and she was not going to fail her. He stood up with panting breaths, and she looked him in the eye as boldly as she could, knowing very well that she might as well be living her last and final moments.

She had always wanted to fly - and if she wasn’t going to do it now, then when would she?

She closed her eyes and threw herself over the edge, seeing the sky become a fading memory as she made the steep drop. Halfway through, she opened her eyes and saw him leaning over the edge, panicked, watching her free-falling figure from the hilltop as she flew, flew, flew.

She fell into the water, making contact with sharp tree branches and thorns on the way down in her descent. The blood on her face and body mixed with the water that surrounded her, and blood-red ripples muddled her vision as she closed her eyes.

Water filled her nostrils, and her vision went dark in a matter of mere moments.

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A/N: Got so inspired by the S2 poster, I managed to finish this damn thing hehe. This was a lot more fast paced than my usual writing style, and I'd love to hear what you guys think! I've been really out of touch with fic writing, and feedback is always welcome :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

[ephemii]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞! 🦇☁️🌙

⭑genre: fluff, romantic or platonic

⭑pairing: lilia/yuu

⭑cw: none!

✶notes: haven't posted in a hot second! got very busy with college, but i decided to write this as a treat! enjoy~

A long day had passed once again, leaving a relieving calm to wash over the campus. Golden afternoon glow gave way to lavender haze, a watercolor meld of dwindling daylight and the bleeding eve of night. It was on the last dredges of days like these that Yuu would be shedding their stress and aiming to unwind by themselves, weary after dealing with the troubles of their ever considerate headmage and two loveably idiotic best friends.

.... Well, that's what they would have loved to be doing, anyways. Intead, they were several dozen feet off the ground.

Their hands grip onto those of their fae friend like a lifeline, muscles pulled taut and straining as they fight to maintain a secure hold while they dangle precariously, reeling from the contrast of their fear for their life and Lilia's boisterous laughter ringing across the quiet horizon. If it were any other situation, Yuu could have mustered the praises that compiled at the tip of their tongue, admiring the way the deep magenta of his irises glinted like precious stones and the demure sunlight reflecting from beneath his flowing onyx locks of hair— alas, they were left to reserve their strength for the periodic yelps and shouts they emitted any moment they looked beneath them and the impressive height Lilia had managed to guide them through. They had never once thought that they would have such an epiphany— to realize that they had taken gravity itself for granted, they had to truly commend Lilia for making that a possibility to begin with.

"A youthful smile does you more justice, my little bat," Lilia giggled cheekily, his fangs glinting brilliantly, "why, you're on top of the world!"

"Set me DOWN, Lilia!!" Yuu ignored his spirited jargon, pleading vehemently.

Lilia’s laughter echoed like music in the crisp air, each note teasing and light. “But why would I do that when the view is simply exquisite?” He gestured expansively, as if presenting his life's work in an art gallery. Yuu screamed, scrambling to latch their now empty hand onto his sleeve, feeling like their heart had caught in their throat. Below them, the sprawling campus looked like a patchwork quilt stitched together with fading hues of the day, and once again they inwardly cursed the fae for not giving them an opportunity to admire it peacefully.

"Lilia, for Sevens' sake!!" Yuu clenched their teeth, the world swirling beneath them. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time!” they protested, their heart racing as they nearly whined in fear.

“Oh, come now! A little thrill never hurt anyone.” Lilia’s hair fluttered against a pleasant gust of wind, a flurry of iridescent colors that glinted in the twilight. He reveled in the sensation of weightlessness, the sheer excitement invigorating him. “You’ve been cooped up for far too long. A bit of adventure is good for the soul!”

Yuu squinted at the horizon, trying to focus on anything other than the dizzying height. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me relax, not give me a heart attack!”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lilia leaned in closer. Yuu looked up at him, eyes boring into his pleadingly— yet all their hopes were quickly shattered the moment his smile widened.

“How about this for a little fun?” Before Yuu could process what he meant, Lilia tossed them upward with a swift, strong heave.

Stars damn it all, they forgot he was that strong.

Yuu’s scream cut through the air as they soared for a split second, staring down at Lilia with wide, bewildered eyes. They didn't know whether to feel warmth or sheer anger at the way he laughed so exuberantly, looking like the very inspiration of joy, painted onto the backdrop of a calm autumn. Just as panic set in, and they were ready to pray to whatever gods safeguarded Twisted Wonderland, Lilia caught them with readily open arms, wrapping them up securely with his legs around them. Yuu grunted at the impact, gasping at the immediate relief rushing through them in dizzying waves.

“Surprise!” he giggled, clearly delighted by their shocked expression. “What did I tell you about living a little? How was that for a ride?”

Heart pounding, Yuu buried their face in his shoulder as they clung to him like a lifeline, mortified but unable to suppress a small, breathless laugh.

“You’re insane!” they lamented.

“Oh, but what is life without a healthy dose of heedlessness?” Lilia grinned onto their cheek, holding them tightly as they swayed gently in the air, “Look at you, all flustered. Isn’t it just the most exhilarating feeling?” he said with a reverence that made them wonder if he truly worshiped the thrill of the chase. The contrast of his deft fingers brushing through their hair caused a small shudder to wrack their limbs.

Yuu could feel their cheeks heat up as they took a deep breath, their initial fear giving way to a strange titillation. “I mean, maybe...." they admitted, peering out from their hiding spot. “...as long as you always catch me.”

Lilia processed their words for one quiet moment... Then he grinned, something more warm and tender as he looked down at them. Yuu averted their gaze, to which he chuckled quietly, that deep, melodious and quick staccato, his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Then what say you to another round? I promise to catch you again, but you have to let go of that fear!”

With a mix of trepidation and enthralment, Yuu nodded, their heart racing in anticipation. Even then, they smiled delicately— No matter how hard they tried, they could never say no to him.

while i'm not inexperienced in writing, it's still a bit exciting finally writing for twst! i have a lot more in store, and hopefully i can finish them up and post them soon if time allows :] thank you for reading! 🤍🩷🤍

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ MɪɴᴅBʀᴇᴀᴋ ໒꒱˚｡⋆

₊˚⊹♡ Summary: Halsin manages to break free from the goblin camp and “rescue” you. Bound and helpless at the grove, Halsin tries to make you see reason, tries to heal your broken mind. ♡ ♡ His patience starts to fade, perhaps he could find another way to break your mind free of Zevlor~ He knows it’s wrong, but by oakfather does your body feel heavenly wrapped around his cock…

₊˚⊹♡ Pairings: Halsin x F!Tav/Reader - Absolute Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Content: NSFW ✧ Dark Content ✧ Hurt/ Angst ✧ Stretched ✧ Big Mammoth Cock Halsin ✧ Mean Halsin ✧ Creampie ✧ Nipple Pinching ✧ Stretched Pussy From Big Cock ✧ Babbling Zevlor’s Name ✧ Pleading ✧ Halsin Fills You ✧ MindBreak ✧ Zevlor Finds You

⊹₊⟡⋆ Based Around This: Zevlor Fucks You In Front Of Halsin

⊹₊⟡⋆ Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴀ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ Hᴀʟsɪɴ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ xᴏxᴏ

Damn goblins, absolutely worthless creatures. One fell asleep right next to the bars… Key dangling out of its pocket… And without Zevlor around, it was easy to break free. Halsin could finally act, could finally return to the grove, but first he had to find you. 

The Druid manages to find you sleeping on a bed hidden away from the rest of the camp. You look so at ease despite your body being littered in bruises and bites… He knows he must act fast to bring you back with him. So he does and he scoops you up, his arms strong yet gentle. Your stir, whispering Zevlor’s name… But something's off- these hands, this shoulder, they’re not his.

Your eyes snap open, panic setting in, “W-what!? What’re you-! Nyyoooo!!! Put me down!!!” you cry, thrashing wildly. Halsin holds you firm though, his arm a band around your thighs, pressing you close to him. Your legs kick helplessly, hands clawing for the bedpost, tears spilling over as you scream for Zevlor, “Zevlor! Zevy!!! D-don’t let him take me!!!” 

Your mind was completely broken, Zevlor had managed to make it so that he was the only thing you thought about night and day, and now your world feels shattered, the only anchor being Zevlor, the one you need like air itself, “Please! Please don’t take me away from him, please!!!”

Halsin pulls you away, his voice soft, “You poor thing… Please, allow me to aid you…” Your grip slips, and he bolts, his feet pounding the earth as he races through the camp and through the forest.

Your heart aches, tears streaming as he carries you away, your sobs breaking into gasps, “Zevlor…” you whisper, the name a lifeline.

When you were back at the grove, Halsin kept a close eye on you, kept you bound to his displeasure. He was far too afraid you’d leave- fearing you’d wind up back in the goblin camp. His plan was to heal you and try to get you to see reason… But each time he approached, you would recoil, fear and anger in your eyes, “Where is he… please take me back!!! Let me see my Zevlor again!!!” you scream, and Halsin’s heart sinks. 

Nights are filled with your cries for Zevlor… pleading for him to save you and begging Halsin to let you return to him. He sees how your body aches for the tiefling’s touch, how your dampness pools and drips each night, the heat coming off you is palpable. He can only watch you writhe in agony, your own fingers unable to reach your heat due to being bound… “s’need him~ please~”

A few days go by and the horns in the front of the grove sound off… And soon the others are yelling about how the goblins have returned, with a female Drow leading them and Zevlor, branded traitor.

Your eyes widened, he came for you… He came for you!!! “Zevlor!!!!” You shout and wiggled against your bindings. 

Halsin stayed in the cave with you, his irritation growing with each of your pleas.

Soon there are sounds of battle, the crackling of fire, the sounds of arrows and blades.

“No! Please let me go! I- I can’t let anything happen to him!!! Please!!! They-they will try to kill my Zev-“

“Enough!” Halsin barks, “I have tried to be patient, tried to stay calm with you. I cannot allow you to return to him.” He sees how your legs are rubbing together, he can tell- smell how aroused you are at the thought of being with Zevlor once again, and he grits his teeth. Perhaps he can try a new method of healing…

“Very well… Perhaps you just need to be reminded that he isn’t what’s best for you.” The Druid approaches you, and you immediately stop your movements, a look of horror and disgust on your face, tears already pricking at your eyes.

Throwing you into the dirt, Halsin makes quick work of the ropes holding you in place. He doesn't bother with his pants, just slips them down until he frees his hardened length. He knows what he is doing is wrong, knows it isn’t right to force himself onto someone in such a way, but-

You thrash and fight, screaming and pleading for him to stop, for your Zevlor to come snap his neck, “H-he’ll kill you- Zevlor will kill you if he finds out you- a-aahhhh!!!!! Sto-oooop!!! Please!!! Don-don’t-!!! You can’t!!! He- he- he will-!!!My body is his-“

Halsin lined up the bulging head of his cock against the fluttering lips of your pussy… He was surprised at how tight you still were after everything Zevlor had put you through, he had to stretch the lips of your pussy with his fingers to wedge the fat head of his cock inside… 

You cried, your entire being wanting to be torn in two. You knew he would never feel as good as your Zev- could never give you what he could…

Without wasting a moment, Halsin grabbed you by your hips and yanked you back toward him… Pain ripped up your back, “Ngh!!!” and down your legs. Your tongue flew from your mouth as you gasped and screamed at the sensation of being split wide.

His cock was thick and long, but nothing like the girth of your dear Zevy… Or so you told yourself… An attempt to ease your pain.

Every muscle in your body went rigid with agony. Your poor cunt clenched tightly around his prick, trying desperately to slow the devastating penetration. He fucked half of his fat cock inside you in one brutal lunge, and you felt as if your whole body was stuffed with burning, bulging fuck-meat, “s’shtop! F’can’t! N’Zev!”

He was not at all gentle.

Once he had you firmly impaled, Halsin set about using you like a sex toy, to mate with you as he would during long ruts, like an animal needing to breed. He rutted hard and fast, pounding his hips and cock into you in a savage rhythm. If you wouldn’t comply with reason then he’d fuck it into you. He’d make it so you'd never want anything else but the feel of his cock stretching your cunt, engrave your gummy walls with the memory and feeling of his cock and having you crave it with every fiber of your being.

He was rough, his thick member battering you like a battering ram. Tears streamed down your face, the pain was immense as Halsin fucked the rest of his giant cock inside you. Your stretched tight cunt lips felt as though they were ripping as he pushed the fattest part of his prick through them… 

“Z-Zevy!!!- pleashe- s-stop- nnnngh- h-he will- kill- y-you- AAAAHHH-!!! P-pleashe!!! Zev- neeed yuhhhh-“

Your words were cut short by a pained yelp. Halsin reached forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair. He yanked your head back while pulling you back onto his cock even more, making you squeal like a stuck pig, “Enough! You must see- open your heart, your eyes!”

He pulled out until just the tip of his cock remained in your cunt. With another grunt, he forced himself balls deep into your cunt.

Your back arched and you wailed, “Hng- Z-Zev-!! N-no- s-st- AAAGH!!! HALSSSIN-!!! Z-Zevy- he-!!! W-wai- a-aahhhh!!- ZE-!!- Hals-!!!”

“That’s right, my heart. Let my name fall from your lips- let nature heal your wounds- I will- mmmn- take care of you- fill you- with my heart.” He groaned.

The sounds of the battle were muffled and distant in your ears, drowned out by the wet squelches of Halsin fucking your pussy and the slap of his balls against your skin, and the loud, broken cries and moans that were punched from your lungs.

Sweat dripped from his face, now fully embedded inside your cunt, Halsin held himself balls deep… He gave a moment to feel the heat of your tight, abused cunt, and savored the way your little hole clutched at his cock… 

He’d be lying if he said you weren't one of the tightest things he's ever felt… A part of him understood why Zevlor forcefully kept you as his mate…

With a hard lunge, Halsin started to fuck into you again. His pace was mean, his hips jackhammering in and out of you, trying to break your mind free of that treacherous tiefling. Each hard thrust made your tits jiggle and bounce, each time his cock bottomed out inside you, the fat tip kissing the entrance to your womb, your entire body jerked forward and back, making a wet slapping sound.

Lightning bolts of agony crackled up your back and through your stomach and down the insides of your thighs. The bones of your pelvis felt as though they had been pushed roughly aside by the brutal, stabbing impacts of Halsin's cock… 

This wasn’t fucking, this was nothing like how your Zevy fucked you. this was being beaten from the inside with a fat, hard cock… Zevy~ your Zevlor… Your love, your master, your everything… He would do so much better~ He’d bully your insides just like this but so much better~ The way he fucked you with his whole body was far more intense than the druids pathetic attempts, at least Zevlor’s cock made you pass out each time he bred you… “My Zevy…”

With a sharp twist, Halsin grabbed one of your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipple and squeezing your plump flesh between his fingers. He leaned down, licking the shell of your ear, his hot breath fanning over your cheek and neck. 

The only thought running through your mind though was Zevlor- and what would he think of seeing you in such a position. Would he kill the druid? Pft, of course he would~ your body was his and no one else’s. Your Zevy would tear him apart and leave his guts strewn across the floor, the Druid's blood painting your bodies in a crimson display of love and passion- and then- and then he would- 

Halsin’s hand tightened on your breast, his hips picking up their pace, snapping into you at a violent, desperate pace, the tip of his cock battering your cervix, the fat, bulbous head smacking against the fleshy barrier again and again…

“Zevlor~- my Zev~- my Zevlor~♡- he- he will kill- ah- kill y-you-! Mmmm! Nnn- Haa-! Haa-! Aaa-! Zevy~ Zevy~ YESH!!! IT TURNSH ME ON~♡” you moaned, your body remembering the first time Zevlor laid his hands on you~. The pain and pleasure of the rough fucking turning your mind to mush. The thought of Zevlor’s hands being covered in Halsin’s blood, taking you right there, the two of you fucking in a puddle of gore- 

You cried out, your body clamping down hard around the druid. Your trembling legs spasmed and your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the invading prick, your mind visualizing Zevlor atop of you, “Gonna c-cum~!!! Dho my bessht to please you wihh everythinh my hody hash to offehr~ ♡♡ ZEVVVY~!!!!!”

Halsin grit his teeth, his arm wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground. His hips were a blur, the muscles in his ass and thighs clenching as his orgasm crept up his spine, his balls tightening. His grip around you was crushing, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

Your legs were dangling off the floor, bouncing wildly. You were screaming, crying and begging, “AHHH!!!! ♡♡♡ C-CUMMING!!! ZEVYYYY-!!! ♡♡ CUMMING SH’ALL OVAH YOUR SH’ICK COCK-!!! ♡♡♡ MY LOVER, MY EVERYTHING- ♡♡ I LUH S’YOU- ♡♡”

You came, and so did Halsin. His cock swelled, the thick vein along the underside of his prick pulsing, before it burst, your name falling from his lips… Spurt after spurt of cum gushed inside your pussy, filling you up, flooding your womb.

You felt the sticky mess of his seed ooze out from the tight seal of your pussy lips…

His orgasm was weak, nothing like Zevlor, nothing like your Zev~ The only thing the Druid could offer was a disappointing amount of seed…

Your body sagged, completely exhausted. There was no strength left, not even enough to lift your head. You hung limp in the Druids hold, panting and gasping, drool pooling and dripping from the corner of your lips.

He held onto you, pain evident in his features. What he had done was wrong, and he would never forgive himself, not even if the whole world did. The guilt settled heavy in his chest as he pulled out… His cum dribbled down your thighs, his cum, not the seed of the one you loved, the one you were trained for, the one you truly wanted and needed… Zevlor had broken you in ways the druid couldn't even imagine, and his actions only pushed you to call out Zevlor’s name in a delirious need for his cock...

“…Forgive me, my heart. Forgive me and let me heal you…”

You whimpered… All you wanted was your Zev…

Before Halsin could stand with you, the cave entrance opened. 

And standing there was Zevlor, his face a mask of cold anger, his eyes filled with fury and a murderous intent, the blood of his kin on his hands, the stench of death surrounding him like a cloud... 

You poor thing, you were too dazed, too fucked out to even notice your god had come to save you…

It took Zevlor a moment to understand what was going on, to see what the druid had done, the scene before him playing out like a sick nightmare... Your body, the place his cock and cum belonged, stained by the druid... “You bastard! What have you done?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!”

Just as Zevlor lunged forward, before Zevlor could rush to your side, before he could smite the damn Druid…desperation etched on his face, fate dealt a cruel blow. Asharak lurked in the shadows, and struck with deadly precision, driving a blade deep into Zevlor's shoulder. As Zevlor turned, before he could muster a defense or attack, others from the grove swarmed, seizing him with unyielding force.

They pinned him down, chains clinking ominously as they bound him. Yet, even as they dragged him away, Zevlor fought with every ounce of strength, his eyes locked onto your slack form… Your eyes just met his, tears and snot streaming down that beautiful face that belonged to him- and he could hear it, the soft mewl of his name slipping from your swollen lips… His heart shattered with each step that dragged him away, threats and your name echoing in the air, haunting and desperate, until the door slammed shut, sealing him away from you…

[phantomsies]

no thots, just going on a camping trip with ace :)

wc: 1.8K

fresh air on a warm summer night, the ripple of small insects and discarded rocks across the muggy lake waters, intermittent gusts of wind passing through the thick trees, the crackle of debris underneath rubber soled shoes…it was all of these little things that made Ace love the outdoors. Being one with nature and exploring the beautiful unknown, one hike, fishing expedition or camping trip at a time!

it wasn’t uncommon for the spontaneous traveler to just up and decide on a whim that he was going to pack up his supplies, load up his old beater of a Silverado with enough food and water to feed an army for the weekend and head out to his next destination. Albeit a spring with glistening water or a forest some sixty miles away from home. His cell phone was only left on so that worried loved ones were aware of his location…

“..don’t worry about me, I’ll be back in a few days!” Otherwise, his only connection was to the furry animals that made his acquaintance and the earth itself. It was something about the whole experience that awakened his primal instincts…

but perhaps nothing awoken said urges more than when he decided to invite his beloved (y/n) (l/n) along for a weekend excursion to the infamous Twin Flames Peak. A recreational park that was known for its incredible hiking areas, breathtaking waterfalls and the stunning view of the stars at night over the campsites. Yes, he was thrilled to have the company of another fellow outdoorsman and one with such a pretty face to boot!

Watching intently as you tie your box braids up in a neat bun in the passenger seat of his truck. Clear gloss smearing your luscious lips and not another speck of makeup on that perfect canvas..a feeling of warmth and sheer happiness encompassing him as he watches you glide your nimble hands up and down those smooth, brown legs with coats of lotion; just in awe of how the sunlight captures the essence of your gorgeous dark skin underneath its rays. “Careful, babe. You get out smelling all sweet and looking this good, you might attract some unwanted guests.” “Well that’s what I have my big strong man for. You’ll protect me, right?” Joking as you thought he’d probably be insane enough to try and go toe to toe with a damn bear!

Despite it all, he knows he’s got nothing to worry about. Ace has watched you handle your own throughout the rough and tumble. Yes, this gorgeous woman who can pitch a tent and lug firewood just as well as she can put on a designer dress and shake ass at the club…would be spending three whole days out here in the wilderness with him. Those once primal instincts that activated when he sensed nearby danger or felt hunger and rations were low..

had now shifted towards you. Like a predator lying in wait on its prey to slip up, he glared hungrily as you strutted in front of him in those biker shorts and tank top. That plump, toned ass swaying with each step as the two of you trekked to the campsite. His mouth practically watering for a taste of what lies between those somehow thick thighs…

the ratio of your proportions would be enough to turn anyone into a rabid beast. “You better keep up back there, I might leave you behind.” “Is that right? Maybe I like it back here.” Tossing him a wink as you wave to him with a beckoning finger. It’s in this moment that Ace realizes he can no longer sate his carnal desires..discreetly cupping at the tent in his shorts before instructing you to stop at a nearby tree with some made up lie about needing to fix something on your gear. It’s then that he makes his move..

launching the first attack with his lips practically melded to yours in a haze of passion. His tongue descends deeper between your jaws with deep grunts and whimpers to follow…sweaty palms ravenously groping at your tits as the bottom half is sent upwards to be pinched between your teeth for comfort. Ace knows you’ll need it for his lecherous plans to defile your body right here in the forest! Nightfall is soon to come so others are scarce, meaning that he didn’t need to hold back.

instead, he’d instruct you to wrap your arms around the back of the tree and hold still..with a gentle suck of his teeth and muttered expletives under his breath, he’d run those fingers down the curvature your torso before not so subtly shoving his hand in the seat of your panties. He can feel your warmth..the arousal already forming only seconds in. ”You’re wet, babe. That’s a lil’ surprising..” Chuckling as the sounds of your stirred up slick met the crackle of the leaves.

two digits slowly make place on that budding clit and your reaction is priceless! An adorable yelp before tossing your hand over your mouth to shield those whimpers. However, you don’t resist..you don’t even tell him to stop. You just continue working the pads of his index and middle fingers..rolling those hips as you peer down over your stomach. Meanwhile, those exposed tits gently bounce each time he jolts a finger in and out of you.

Hell, he knew the thought of lewd acts in a public place was a bit shameful but it was called the wild for a reason. You were merely mammals, acting in the way you were intended to..no need to be bashful of that!

he’d smugly reach for that hand and peel it back from your mouth whilst those pumps grew faster.

“Instead of trying to hide those moans, pretty girl..squeeze those nipples f’r me. You’ll feel a lot better.”

“Ace, we’ve gotta stop this. I’m gonna fucking come—“

in that moment, your breath hitched in your throat and you realized those pleas were futile because that was his plan. To make you reach climatic bliss right under the night sky. “Then do it..why hold back? Because you’re embarrassed?..afraid we’ll get caught?” His words seeped into your brain as his teeth and lips met your neck once more. Like a carnivorous beast, he’d scrape along your skin before gently grazing you with bites. “Because I’m not. Hell, I hope they see us..see me fucking you like a little slut.”

The entire prospect had him so aroused, he couldn't help but to shuffle those pants to his waistline and tease the head of his throbbing cock against your slick folds. Which prompted him to suck his teeth. “Listen at that..it’s like your little pussy is just begging to be stuffed.” Without haste, he’d snatch your head towards him and force you to focus on that thick member rubbing on your clit. “So beg me, babe. Beg me to fuck you.” It was such a different side of him than before. The jovial, wide eyed camper turned deviant animal had you in his claws with no plans to release…and you had no complaints! So you’d fulfill his wish and plead to feel him inside of you. To be pinned against this tree and fucked until your eyes trailed to the back of your skull.

“Please..fuck me. I don’t care if anyone hears us. I need you..”

it was all he needed to feel affirmed. For you to be equally as carefree as he was. Your shorts had been residing at your knees so he’d finish removing them before hoisting a leg to his shoulder and keeping his eyes focused on your own. “Good girl. That’s all you had to say.” In a moment's notice, you’d find yourself impaled on him; split open by that tip and a few more inches. Releasing loud wails, the two of you moved like a well oiled machine. His hips snapping without so much as slowing down and you meeting those thrusts. The sounds of your skin smacking colliding with the ruffle of the leaves underneath your shoes and of course, the foul words escaping those lips.

“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart..I hope you’ve been taking your pill because I can’t wait to breed all these pretty holes. Make you walk back to camp with all my cum in you…that’ll be so fucking sexy. Maybe we should’ve brought your plug too.”

meanwhile, you were honing in on massaging your clit, even lobbing a trail of saliva down your tummy to aid in those strokes. Giggling at how calculated his plan whilst gasping and moaning.

“How long have you been waiting to get me out here like this?”

“Only since forever.”

and he had no plans to squander this opportunity. Only to make it worth both of your time. Cradling a hand to the back of your neck, Ace keeps your faces glued to one another..eventually drawing you closer for some deep, sloppy pecks. Those lips smacking as loud as the wet skin below; hips bucking..snapping with each movement and the next thrust growing harder than the last. Praising you for the way you took him so easily. His pace quickens and he can’t seem to slow down…hell, he’s insatiable and the only cure is to feel that tight hole squeezing him and squirting all over his shaft. The sensation of that warmth continuously wrapping around him..pulling him back in each time he felt as if he was going to slip out.

it was evident by the tears welling in your eyes that you were close and who was he to deny you the sweet surrender of an orgasm?

“Oh my gosh! Fuck..right there, right there—“

“Come f’r me, pretty girl. Let it out…come all over this dick.”

each stroke from then on brought forth spurts of wetness, until that little bladder emptied all over his shoes and the ground beneath. But that wasn’t the end..no, he couldn’t let up until he saw his earlier promise through. So he’d force himself through that overly sensitive flesh..getting only half of those eight or so inches before it’d begin to snap. Even so, he persists..because the only thing he wants is to feel that seed pouring into your womb. And it’s not long before his wish is granted. You’d pull him in close, pleading with him to fill you to the brim. Marking his back previously and now with those deep scratch marks, signifying that he was your territory and now he’d done the same..all but growling as he empties his balls into you and leaves a stream of that hot white load embedded inside of you. Chest heaving and curse words are still spewing from his mouth, along with a laugh.

“Fuck..I swear you bring out the worst in me.”

“Says the one whose idea it was in the first goddamn place.”

but there aren’t any complaints. It was no secret you enjoyed this as much as he did. And those primal urges were only just beginning to be quelled…

“Well I have a better idea..why don’t we go for round two when we get back to the tent?”

after all, you had a long weekend ahead of you!

[leopardcoffee]

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕤𝕖 𝟚/𝟚

Pairing: Bang Chan/F!Reader

Part 1 here

Warnings: none

Synopsis: "I want to love you where everyone can see us.”

a/n: more things to come!

Word count: ~1.3k

“Who was that?” Chan said through gritted teeth. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he tugged you close to him. “Answer me.”

Being this near made your head spin. The warmth of his body heated you up. Your neck was still bruised where Jay’s lips had been. Chan looked feral, clearly just as drunk as you were.

“Were you going to go home with him? Let that scumbag loser fuck you up against his front door? Are you that easy? Answer me. Now.”

“I don’t answer to you, Bang Chan. I can dance with whoever I damn well please. So if I’m going to dance with him- No, if I'm going to fuck him or his friend or both, what’s it to you?”

Something imperceptible flashed in Chan’s eyes. “Everything.”

You said nothing, did nothing. Just stood there and tried to process Chan’s words. Nothing made sense now, nothing would ever make sense again after whatever this was. The hand clutching the back of your head pulled you closer, and your foreheads brushed. Long fingers threaded through your hair as his eyes delicately fluttered closed.

“Everything, Y/N. I never want to see another man look at you like that, like you’re just a body. When he put his hands on you, I couldn’t deal Y/N.”

Chan sighed deeply, his eyes still closed.

“I can’t stand this, this distance between us. The ache in my chest when you lean away from me, how you can’t meet my eyes, it’s killing me. I know it's my fault, I did this to you, to us.”

His brown eyes opened, and he pulled back. You sensed he had more to say, but this wasn’t the place. Wordlessly, you took his hand in yours and began leading him out of the club. Dutifully, Chan followed.

Once you’d stepped outside, you glanced up at him for consent before gently tugging his hand in the direction of your apartment. Neither of you dared to speak and disturb the precious moment between you. Chan’s arm tucked itself around your waist as a gust of cold wind whistled past. Something hung in the air as the two of you made your way back to your apartment, the raw vulnerability that comes before every hard conversation.

Chan stood patiently behind you while you fumbled for your keys, struggling to unlock your door with shaking hands. A frustrated noise left you as you tried to get the key to turn in the lock. Chan’s hand reached out and brushed yours away. Effortlessly, he unlocked your door and held it open for you. Entering after you, he gently shut your door and hung your keys on the hook next to it as if he was made to do it for you.

Going against the nervous feeling in your stomach, you turned to face him. Chan stood there, looking at you with his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. Wordlessly, you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your cold nose into the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush up against his chest. You hoped he couldn’t feel your heartbeat hammering wildly. The two of you stayed like that until his hoarse voice broke the fragile quiet.

“I love you.” You felt his nose press into the hair on the top of your head. “Always have. I couldn’t stand this, this…thing between us anymore. I’m sorry Y/Nie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’ve been acting this way. You make me so scared, so scared Y/Nie.”

You sniffled, curling your fingers into his coat as you tried to get closer.

“I don’t want to hurt you or our friends, but I can’t keep it inside any longer. I never wanted to hurt you. I think about what I said about you in front of everyone that day in the country all the time. We almost died and I-” Chan choked.

“I almost lost you. I almost lost you before I could tell you. Seeing you so scared broke my heart, all I want to do is keep you safe in my arms forever. I love you Y/Nie, I love you so much. Please, please let me love you.” Quiet sobs followed his confession, and he buried his face in your hair.

You didn’t bother trying to hide your tears, you cried into his chest and tangled your fingers in his hair. Standing there, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you cried in the quiet darkness of your apartment.

“I love you too Channie. I love you. I always have. I wanted you to love me so bad after that day, after we almost-” You couldn’t finish the sentence. Limp in his arms, you tugged at this jacket.

He must’ve understood what you were asking for as he slipped his jacket off and hung it next to yours on the coat rack. You were asking him to stay. Taking off your shoes, you motioned for him to follow you into your room. Heart racing in your chest, you perched on the edge of your bed. He stood in your doorway, hesitating.

“Y/N, are you sure?”

“Yes Channie, I’m sure.” You pulled up the covers and waited for him to climb in with you. The moment he settled down, you wrapped yourself around him, letting your head rest against his chest. A gentle thumb wiped the dried tear tracks from your face. Chan’s other snaked around your waist and pulled your leg up over his own.

Plush lips met your own as Chan pulled you up against him. You kissed him back with just as much urgency, using your leg to pull his hips flush against your own. Your lips parted for him, and Chan deepened the kiss. Resisting the urge to grind against him, you explored every corner of his mouth. Chan groaned when you ran your hands down his chest and toyed with the hem of his shirt. You slipped your hands underneath it to feel the abs you knew he was hiding. He grabbed one of your hands before they could dip down towards his waistband and broke the kiss.

“Let me take you out to dinner first. Let me buy you flowers and pull your chair out for you. Let me put my jacket over your shoulders and walk you home. I want everything to be perfect when I ask you to be my girlfriend. I want to make the first time special for you. I want you to understand that I’m not just in it for your body. I want you, all of you, exactly the way you are. I want to love you where everyone can see us.”

Cheeks on fire, you buried your head in your hands in embarrassment. Chan laughed and pulled you closer. Prying your hands from your face, he pressed his nose against yours.

“Please let me take you to dinner?”

You smiled softly. “I only have one condition. I think now’s pretty perfect, ask me.”

Chan looked at you with such fondness that you knew you’d never doubt his feelings again. “You’re right. This is perfect. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Smiling against his lips you murmured, “Always Channie. I’m here to stay.”

[widowpunx]

Into My Arms (Rated: Explicit) [Down The Rabbit Hole We Go | Kinktober Celebrations]

Summary: In Wanda's opinion the motorcycle trip turned out better than expected. She overcame her fear of motorcycles and was rewarded for it. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Natasha Romanoff.

Words:4,765

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Just 18+ people are welcome to read.

THIS WORK CONTAINS: Graphics Descriptions of Smut, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Mommy Kink, Vaginal Sex and Dirty Talk. Natasha has a penis.

Post Black Widow Movie, Road Trips, Established Relationship, On The Run. English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

котенок - kitty

детка - Babe

Боже мой - My God.

Available on ao3

Wanda was really scared at first. Her heart must have been thumping so loudly and hard ion her that she could feel it pounding through the leather jacket and all. Every time they came to a curve, she would clutch so hard that Natasha probably couldn’t breath.

For the whole first two hours, Wanda just shut her eyes and cursed herself for ever agreeing to get on Natasha’s damned motorcycle. Wanda was so sure that the thing would topple every time they went around a bend. And damn her, Natasha choose the road with the most winding curves in Italy. God, Wanda must have been crazy to agree to this romantic trip. Maybe crazy in love with this wild redhead.

Natasha had been planning this romantic motorcycle ride along the beautiful Amalfi Coast for weeks. The motorcycle trip was a distraction to forgot that they were fugitives and the government was hunting them.

But, by the third hour, Wanda found herself peaking over her girlfriend’s shoulder. Her legs would tense in anticipation when they came to a bend, and Natasha was starting to lean into the curves like a pro. Under the helmet Natasha was grinning like an idiot loving this sense of freedom. Riding her motorcycle was like flying.

Wanda was grining a bit despite her continuous fear. The feel of the streaming fresh air flowing through her helmet was exhilarating for. The adrenaline of the moment was turning her on. The fear turned into excitment. The feel of the powerful engine purring between her legs was getting her aroused.

God, Wanda didn’t want this trip to end, but if it didn’t soon, she was gonna make a mess on Natasha's motorcycle. This time they were headed down the road to a cozy hotel at Sorrento Village. Wanda had never been there before. She had learned to let her girlfriend make the plans and surprise her. Natasha always seemed to know what would make her happier.

Even this damn motorcycle. Wanda had resisted her so long. But finally after a long night filled with passion and love making, Natasha asked her to try it once. And Wanda, she couldn’t deny her lover anything that night, so she agreed. How could she have known that she would learn to love this too?

As the sunset falls, the road curved in and out of the trees, and their green shapes flashed by in a blur of fresh wind. From time to time the coast came into view, and Wanda could see the tide cresting against the ragged rocks below them.

Once in awhile, a shaft of fear would stab her as Wanda imagined them crashing out of control and their bodies falling to be splintered on those rocks. She would shiver then. But then Wanda would feel the strong back of her girlfriend pressed against her chest, and she would remember her strength, her gentle competence and she relaxed.

Wanda had learned to trust this Natasha in so many parts of her life. Here Wanda trusted her with her life itself, and she knew that Natasha would care for it as she always did.

When they finally came to the entrance to the hotel, it was both too soon and too late for her. To soon for the ride that had become an odyssey to end. And too late because by now not only her panties but her jeans as well were soaked wet. Wanda felt the arousal humming along her nerves, the throbbing ache of her swollen clit made it hard for her to walk straight, her legs were a bit shaky.

In their hotel room, Wanda could hear the muted sound of the waves breaking on the rocks, the tide was a gentle swell lapping at the coast leaving a tracery of foam on the rocks. She thought of making love to Natasha there and relief the throbbing heat between her thighs but Natasha had other ideas.

She and Nat enter in a cozy Italian restaurant near to the hotel during their dinner time. She was eyeing her girlfriend amusedly. Natasha has a devilsh smile on her face. She knew her so well, she suspected her aroused mode and her intense desire to feel her touch on her body. 

While Natasha checked some messages Wanda didn’t say anything, she just acted like, everything was okay. She wanted to tease Natasha so she just craned her neck and her girlfriend could see her generous cleavage shifting in her blouse. Her tits were practically bulging out of her bra and black leather jacket.

The effect on the redhead was immediate. Natasha licked her lips and sat back in her chair sipping her cold beer. Wanda smiled inwardly and toyed with the button on her blouse, from time to time rubbing her fingers over her boobies teasing her girlfriend.

Natasha kept reading the messages on her phone as she tried to act casual, but Wanda could see her green eyes following the movement of her dancing fingers on her tits. It was getting on now, and Natasha must have been pretty horny by now, being exposed to her innocent seduction and not being able to ran her tongue over her boobies.

Grinning broadly Natasha was staring at her face with undisguised lust. "Are you teasing me, uh?"

"Of course not." Wanda said with a smile but caught Natasha's lustful green eyes burning with desire and blushed. She squirmed in her seat as Natasha rose and sat beside her and murmured in her ear how much she wanted to bury her face on her slippery pussy and how much she wanted to lick her pretty tits and suck her nipples. 

Of course this caused Wanda became more needy and eager to return to their hotel room and stay alone with Nat. She stood up and made her way to the hotel room making sure her lover was following her.

Natasha followed her into the room, watching her femenine hips swaying provocatively before her. Wanda smiled making a fast job with her own clothes, throwing them on the floor as she made her way to the bed.

"What are your plans, Ms. Maximoff?" Natasha asked with a crooked grin.

'I think my plans are pretty obvious, don't you think?" Wanda giggled foolishly and took her breasts in her hands to give them a playful squeeze and emphasize her words.

Natasha smiled back. "I'd like to know how I can help you." It was then that Wanda smiling mischievously stood in front of Natasha and unbuttoned her jeans and gave them a tug to pull them down, instantly her erection jumped, freeing itself from its tight confines. Wanda took it in her hand and gave it a few gentle tugs as she felt Natasha shiver. 

 “Well mommy. I want you to kiss me first.” Wanda giggled and pressed her tits against her girlfriend's. "And then you can make love to me." With one hand still firmly grasping her girlfriend’s hard cock, she threw the other around her neck and pulled her to her, pressing her mouth on the redhead's.

Natasha groaned feeling Wanda's tongue invading her mouth as she returned the hungry kiss, devouring her mouth with passion and love. She loved to feel Wanda's naked body against her. The heat of her soft body was intoxicating like a drug. Natasha could feel the warmth irradiating from Wanda skin, she also could the goosebumps covering it as her horny girlfriend pressed herself suggestively against her.

The kiss was consuming the air in her lungs but Natasha didn't broke the kiss, the burning in her lungs was a painful pleasure but suddenly Wanda did. She stares at Wanda's happy eyes as she runs her hands down her spine.

“Lie down, mommy!” Wanda gasped, almost pushing the smiling redhead backwards onto the bed. "Let me take care of you." With that said Wanda helped Natasha undress, gently removing each piece of clothing off her body.

Usually Natasha was the one who made the decisions in the bedroom. In their relationship she ordered and Wanda obeyed, however Natasha let Wanda take the reins of the situation ... for now. She was very curious to see what Wanda would do next. Natasha can't deny that she was fascinated by the way her shy Wanda was acting, almost begging her to fuck her!

The redhead smiled and lay in the middle of the bed. She lay down on her back with her huge hard cock sticking straight up, throbbing in the air. Her smile grew wider when she noticed Wanda's eyes glued on her hard prick.

Wanda licked her lips at the gorgeous sight, her needy throbbed with intense need. She longed to jump on top of her mommy's veiny cock and ride it till she forget her own name. But she was determined to get mommy's mouth first.

A smile curved Natasha's lips as Wanda crawled onto the bed on all fours, her pretty eyes glued on her face and a sexy smile on her lips. She straddled her thighs and paused for a second as she placed Natasha's throbbing shaft between her glistening folds and then began to roll her hips. She loved to rub her pussy on the length of Natasha's prick. It was one of her favorite things. Wanda liked to feel the friction of their sexes, it always took her breath away.

Natasha contained a groan, her cock stirred with excitement as her girlfriend teased her. Wanda really knew how to turn her on. "Wanda ... Babe ..." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the warm of Wanda's pussy sliding up and down her member.

"Mmm ... Боже мой! ... Feels good!" Wanda hummed with pleasure feeling the tip touching her clit, shivering from head to toe, the warmth of her pussy made Natasha gasp. Wanda keep going for a couple of minutes but reluctantly she lifted her pussy off her mommy's wet prick.

"Can you lick my pussy, mommy?" Wanda asked with cute puppy eyes and knelt with her bald pussy directly over the redhead’s face and held her glistening pussy lips wide open.

 "Oh baby you look so pretty." Natasha smirked as she gazed up at her girlfriend's juicy pussy, her eyes burning with lust as her tongue licked her lips in anticipation. Wanda was so wet and hot for her.

Natasha's nostrils flared as Wanda's scent filled her nose. The scent of her pussy always turned her on and the fact that she Wanda was acting so shamelessly and needy made her body burn and her penis began to harden and swell to huge proportions. Natasha wanted to eat her girlfriend out for hours. An undescribable urgency grow and grow in her heart.

"Tell me, baby. Is this what you want, детка? Do you want my mouth on your sweet pussy?" Natasha whispered hotly and hold Wanda's naked ass cheeks with both hands. "Yes ... Yes ... mommy. That's all I want, please." Wanda with blushed face just stuttered before Natasha grinned and burried her mouth into her needy drooling cunt.

Wanda squealed, her hot obscene groans echoing on the hotel room. The sokovian girl in delight began to grind her throbbing pussy over Natasha's sucking mouth as the dominant redhead kissed the sensitive wet inner flesh of her pussy. Wanda let out a throaty moan as her lover's tongue probed her pussy, sliding repeatedly over her sensitive clit as her ass sway back and forth in a sexy repetitive motion.

Natasha closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide, and then slide her tongue deep into Wanda's warm pussy depths. She groans slightly and her hands grasp the witch's round ass as she noisily slurped up the tasty pussy juices. 

"Oh yeah! It feels so good!" Wanda whimpered with ecstasy as she rolled her hips, rubbing and grinding her pussy, smearing her drooling pussy onto mommy's experienced mouth. 

Wanda looked down between her blushed round tits at mommy's gorgeous face, seeing only her eyes close blissfully above her hairless pussy mound. "Oh yess! Oh mommy!" She moaned as she kept grinding her pussy on mommy's mouth. Wanda closed her eyes and lose herself in this delicious moment as Natasha warm tongue stimulate each sensitive spot on her vulva, her mouth felt fantastic in her cunt. Wanda only hears Mommy hums in delight, without missing a slurp.

Wanda giggled happily, hunching her pussy against mommy's lips. She love moments like this. The way mommy's licked the full length of her inflamed slit and suck on each fold with a few gentle tugs and then burying her tongue deeply in the warm depths of her quivering pussy, sucking all the tasty juice pouring out of her hole.

Natasha grunted and grasped her girlfriend's nude grinding ass as she sucked hungrily, licking every delicious part of Wanda's swollen slit and pushing her tongue hard and deep into her pussy hole.

Wanda was making a mess on her face but she didn't care. Natasha was breathless, her fingers dug deeply into Wanda's creamy buttocks, leaving red marks in her soft delicate skin. She acted as a thirsty woman, her pussy juices flooded into her mouth and she swallowed every tasty drop. Natasha could hear the sexy moans of her girlfriend as she seal her lips around her stiff clit and sucked on it.

"Are you enjoying this, babe?" Natasha asked between wild licks and heavy breaths.

"Ohh yeah, lick my pussy, mommy! I'm loving this so much!" The sokovian girl moaned and kept grinding her pussy up and down on the her face as her hands slide behind Natasha’s head, pressing her gasping mouth as tightly as possible against her tingling drooling pussy. Wanda was so close. She squirming and groaning, her round tits jiggling and her skin covered in sweat. She felt so fucking good receiving Natasha's tongue-fucking. Finally, the need to cum overcame as mommy kept her mouth glued to her quivering pussy and sucked hard.

"Oh mommy!" Wanda let out a loud groan as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure filled her pussy, her chest and brain. She panted, her body trembled as she collapsed on the bed. She wanted to lay down with Natasha and enjoy the post orgasmic bliss but she had her own plans tonight to take care of mommy. She look up at Natasha who was smiling and licking her glistening lips.

Wanda blushed a little as mommy said with a grin. "You taste delicious, детка?" before giving her a soft kiss on the lips. Natasha smirked and let her hands roaming her girlfriend’s femenine body, massaging her tits as she spread warm smooches up and down her neck.

"Thank you, mommy." Wanda said with a shy grin and move her hand downward to grasp Natasha's prick. Mommy's grin grew wider as Wanda moved her fist up and down the huge length of her stiff penis, squeezing the warm veiny shaft in her palm.

 "Can I play with your cock, mommy?" Wanda asked and licked her lips. The girl was surprised that she could hardly get her fingers around mommy's beautiful dong.

"Of course you can, baby." Natasha smiled before giving Wanda a kiss on the cheek. "My cock is all yours."

"Thank you, mommy." Wanda giggled happily and kissed mommy's on the lips, then she whispered hotly into her ear. "I need to taste your cock. I need it so bad.” Natasha saw as Wanda slid down between her legs and her eyes glued on her stiff cock.

Natasha shivered when Wanda grabbed her cock and pull on it from base to tip, running her fingertips around the swollen tip.

"Do you like how hard I am for you, детка?

"Yes, mommy. I like it so much." Wanda nodded in response before she sealed her lips around the tip of her cock.

"Oh Wanda!" Natasha said with a throaty voice as she saw Wanda opening her mouth and sliding her pretty kissable lips slowly down over the length of her veiny member, swallowing her hard cock as best she could.

At first, Wanda couldn’t get all mommy's tasty prick into her mouth, but once she relaxed her throat she was able to deep-throat her cock all the way to the base of her member. Wanda moaned with eyes closed, her inflamed lips pressed around her shaft, mommy's hairless balls were on her chin.

Natasha saw stars when Wanda ran her fingers up her thighs and then her abs as she began to move her mouth eagerly up and down on her stiff prick. With a long sexy grunt, Natasha began to slide her cock in and out of her mouth. "Mmmmm!" Wanda moaned in response, mommy's hard cock sliding down her throat with each slow thrust.

She closed her lips tightly and sucked it nosily. With a smile Wanda breathed in and took mommy fully into her mouth. Her mouth watered loving this tasty cock penetrating her mouth. Wanda was so aroused that her inner thighs were wet and glistening with her pussy juice, her sex was all juicy and throbbing.

Natasha watched Wanda's red lips around her cock and groaned. Slowly she pumped her cock into her throat, listening to the soft, gurgling sounds Wanda made.

Wanda hummed and sucked her mommy's huge cock for a long minutes, enjoying the flavor and warmth of her veiny meat on her mouth. But pretty soon, her super-hungry pussy demanded more! It quivered and twitched between her thighs, just longing to be fucked by mommy.

Suddenly, Wanda let the tasty cock slip out of her mouth and sat up. She was hot and horny, and desperate for mommy's cock! She wanted her dominant mommy now. She wanted her beautiful cock filling her pussy, stretching her dephts like she always loved it!

Wanda was so highly aroused by the prospect of fucking mommy. She quickly straddled mommy's muscled pale thighs until her drooling pussy was placed above the tip of her cock. Mommy’s cock stood up proudly, her shaft was furiously red and hard, ready for her.

Wanda moaned deep in her throat and grasped mommy's cock at the base, holding it upright between her thighs. Then with a giggle she let the swollen cockhead snuggle between the lips of her pussy.

Natasha felt herself burning with intense need as Wanda groaned and sank down slowly on top of her, letting her weight do all the work. Inch after inch her tight pussy managed to swallow her veiny cock.

Wanda grimaced a bit but she didn’t stop until she felt Natasha’s pubic bone press against her inflamed pussy lips and her tip impacting her womb. It was huge and she loved it! Wanda knew her lover's long cock was in her all the way up her pussy. Her depths were burning with delight, her pussy was open and stretched, and filled with the Natasha's cock.

"Oh, baby, you're so fucking tight!" Natasha growled. She couldn't help but push her hips upwards and send her cock deeper causing Wanda to groan and giggle in satisfaction. The gorgeous witch didn't move for long seconds, she was enjoying so much to have mommy's cock buried to the hilt in her stretched pussy.

Wanda loss her breath and closed her eyes and try to adjust to the size this ten inch cock. Mommy's cock felt so good in her. She never had anything so deep before but then she met Natasha and let her fuck her one night after a hard mission. Since that day Wanda knew she was addicted to Natasha's cock.

Wanda giggled happily as she rode mommy slowly. She began to bounce her hips up and down on her mommy's huge cock, fucking herself again and again on her delicious dong. All the time Wanda grasped her jiggling tits in both hands, forcing her pussy to swallow each delicious inch of cock.

Natasha had a proud smile as she looked down between Wanda's creamy thighs, her lustful eyes glowed at the lewd sight of her thick, glistening veiny cock disappearing time after time into Wanda's drooling pussy. Her hips moved in time with hers, pumping her hard meat into her clenching pussy hole as best she could.

Wanda let out a obscene moan and began to move her femenine hips up and down in urgent motions, faster and deeper, forcing her pussy to swallow her mommy's huge prick, then lifting her nude ass as until the cockhead was inside her and then push her stretched pussy down again, grinding her swollen clit hard veiny shaft each time.

"You feel so incredible around my cock!" Natasha panted, feeling Wanda's pussy tighten around her throbbing dick. "I love my good girl's pussy!"

"Uhhmm mommy! I love you mommy!" Wanda gasped happily, loving her lover's compliments as her eyes rolled back and impaled herself on Natasha’s dong again and again. "I'm your good girl! I'm your good girl, mommy!" Her pussy juices flowed profusely, making a mess on mommy's prick as her sticky juices bathed her heavy balls.

Wanda closed her eyes and sobbed with pleasure, squeezing her naked tits. Her back was arched in ecstasy as she rode her dominant mommy, fucking her with all her might.

 The effect on Natasha was instantaneous. The redhead growled, grasping at her girlfriend's ass she began to thrust her cock upwards as Wanda fucked her back, their wet sexes making loud, obscene wet noises as she pounded hard her juicy pussy.

 Wanda sobbed and fell forwards, supporting her weight on her hands, placing them on Natasha's huge tits as her ass sways up and down, grinding and impaling her tingling pussy on mommy's rampant cock. 

"Yeah, fuck me like that, детка!" Natasha whispered and took the panting girl in her arms and brought her sweaty tits close to her face.. "Ride me! Ride my cock, котенок"

“Oh mommy!” Wanda panted with hooded eyes as Natasha licked hungrily her hanging tits and sucking and her stiff nipples into her mouth, making her pussy cream on mommy's cock. "it’s sooo bigggggg!” She groaned, gasping for air as mommy's thick cock plunged in and out of her tight slit more faster. Her green eyes were closed as she rode the redhead's prick faster and faster, her drooling pussy was on fire, burning with intense need, longing for her cum in her.

"God! What a incredible fuck! Only Natasha, her soulmate, her lover, her protector, the love of her life, her Natasha knew how to fuck her and make her see stars. Wanda whined and brought a hand to her pussy and rub her swollen clit frantically as she rode her cock, her naked ass sliding up and down with urgency.

 Natasha held her girlfriend’s hips and helped Wanda to ride her. Her green eyes enjoyed the thrilling sight as she watched Wanda's tight pinkish pussy hole engulfing her entire cock. The redhead moaned and gasped as Wanda sobbed, her stretched pussy sliding up and down the length of her member. Natasha was surprised by Wanda's strength. She was riding her so hard that the bed began to crack and bed bounce underneath them.

Natasha was trying to hold back her climax but Wanda's pussy was so tight and so warm inside that she couldn’t hold back the tingling sensation rising in her balls much longer and the violent throbbing base of her achin penis.

"Боже мой! Oh mommy! your balls are so swollen and I can feel your cock throbbing in me." Wanda hummed with a dreamy grin and reached back behind her nude buttocks, cupping her Natasha's swollen nut sack, squeezing them and massaging them with gentle tugs. Wanda begged and encouraged Natasha! "Come in me, mommy!... Squirt your hot seed up my pussy!... Come in my pussy… I want this load in my pussy, mommy!”

Natasha smiled broadly as Wanda impaled herself down on her cock with urgency, grinding her pussy against her and squealing loudly. Her gorgeous Wanda was a sweaty hot mess. Damn! Wanda was gasping for air, one of her hands grasping her jiggling tits, squeezed it hard and her nipple protruding between her pale knuckles. Wanda giggled, moving her stretched pussy up and down on mommy's cock feeling her climax approaching. Suddenly the sokovian girl stiffened and screamed at the top of her voice as her orgasm peaked.

Natasha moaned as Wanda came, her pussy depths convulsed, gripping and squeezing her cock as wave after wave of tingling pleasure spread through her like a wild fire. Hearing Wanda's pleas and screams were almost too much for Natasha.

"Cum in me! Please!! Please!" Wanda screamed loudly as Natasha grab her nude jiggling ass and thrust more deeper into her. The redhead was almost there. She knew she would not last very long. "Shit! Wanda!" Natasha grunted and her body convulsed in spasms shooting her warm load deep into Wanda's receptive pussy.

Natasha gasped and captured one of Wanda's nipples between her lips and began to suck frantically, her fingers digging into the her ass cheeks. She groaned and her cock squirted time and time again until Wanda thought she was never going to stop, filling her fertile womb with her white semen.

She sucked Wanda's tits one at a time as she blow her load into Wanda's quivering pussy. Suddenly Wanda giggled tiredly and fell on Natasha's chest. Her sweaty body was shaking, the spasms of her well fucked pussy were sending delicious tingles up and down her spine.

Natasha rolled a very tired Wanda off her body. She was amused by the sight before her. Wanda's orgasm had been so powerful that she had fainted with sheer pleasure. Her pretty witch was laying beside her and purring like a cute kitten.

"Did you enjoy that, my little cumslut? Natasha said with a dark smile as she ran her fingers through Wanda's red hair.

"Yes, mommy!" Wanda said breathlessly and spread her shaky legs and show mommy her well fucked pussy. "I enjoyed it a lot! You always take good care of me." Slowly, she eased her hand down and felt her now-sore pussy lips ooze out rivulets of white cum. Wincing at the touch, Wanda pulled up a gooey rope of cum with her fingers and rubbed into across her lips for her tongue to taste. "It taste delicious."

"I can see that, детка." Natasha said with a smile and looked at Wanda's inflamed pussy, her tender slit was open, and leaking a sticky mixture of her own white sperm and pussy juice. "Good girl!" The redhead growled and lowered her face to Wanda's tender pussy and captured a string of cum with her tongue. It tasted good. Well her cum dripping out of Wanda's pussy always tasted good.

Natasha licked her lips as she stared at Wanda's precious naked body, spread out so lewdly before her. Her round sexy tits were firm and swollen and sweaty, rising and falling as she breathed with eyes closed, her cute nipples stiff and erect begging for attention.

Wanda was a goddess her goddess. Natasha looked up into Wanda's green eyes and found pure love there, her heart fluttered at the sight of her girlfriend enjoying the post orgasmic bliss.

Natasha spend long seconds just admiring Wanda's beauty. Her flushed pacific face, her soft red hair, her soft cute smile but suddenly her open reddish pussy attracted her attention. Her delicate folds were inflamed and spread like a flower, her pussy hole was quivering and oozing her white cum.

Natasha didn't say a word she just spread Wanda's weak legs, pushing them back and bending them at the knees until her well fucked juicy pussy was exposed to her eyes and mouth.

"What are you going to do, mommy?." Wanda asked with a sassy smile.

"You'll see, baby." Natasha smirked and lowered her puffy lips and kissed Wanda's sore pussy, licking her own cum from her open slit before slide her tongue into her dilated pussy hole. Wanda giggled loving the warmth of her Natasha's mouth on her sore slit.

Wanda smiled and put a hand on Natasha's nape and began grind her pussy on her face “Mmmmmm, that’s feels good!... eat my pussy, mommy!" Wanda moaned with a dreamy expression on her face, her pretty eyes closed as Natasha lick the tender flesh of her pussy and swallow every last drop of her cum from her pussy.

In Wanda's opinion the motorcycle trip turned out better than expected. She overcame her fear of motorcycles and was rewarded for it.

#natasharedshadow

[frudoo]

The Tourist - Reacher

Chapter One: Loose Ends

Warnings: Suggestive. Brief child abuse (NOT by Reacher). Fem!Reader. MDNI.

Reacher’s not sure how he ended up back in this town. At least, that’s what he’s trying to convince himself of. He knows damn well why he hitchhiked his way back here from the middle of God-knows-where with nothing but his passport and a toothbrush. 

     The old dog is getting, well, old. He’s lonely in this lifestyle that he swore up and down is the only way he’d ever enjoy living. The occasional one-night-stands and flings with girls he barely knew the names of were doing little to satisfy this newfound craving inside his bones. Yes, Reacher—the drifter, the hobo, the phantom—is ready to settle down. 

     He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t regret leaving you in the first place. Every girl he’s met since you has been laughably dull in comparison—none of them had your softness, your devotion, your light. None of them could send a shiver down his spine with nothing but a smile, or make him drop to his knees with reverence just to feel the gracefulness of your fingertips against his scarred, stubbled face. Not one woman he’s taken to bed before or after you has been able to make his legs give out the way you could. Not one woman he’s fucked has held him the way you did, cared for him the way you did. 

     Of course, he loved some of those women—even thought about staying with one of them in that stupid little town in Georgia, but every time he kissed her all he could imagine was you. It was superficial. When she begged him not to leave, he used his wanderlust as an excuse to break her heart. The truth would have destroyed her, and he wanted to leave her with the good memories they made. She was a strong, adaptable woman, and he has no doubt that she moved on, maybe even got married and had a baby or two by now.  

     Moving on isn’t a luxury he can afford, not since he met, had, and left you. Reacher doesn’t often make mistakes, prides himself on being effective and precise, but he is an honest man. Even if his mouth won’t admit it, his brain doesn’t let him forget. Every night he dreams about you. In every sunset, he sees you. In every gust of wind, he feels you. The smell of the grass after it rains, the aroma of freshly-baked bread and a hearty meal, it’s all a reminder of you, you, you. He can’t ignore it anymore. He has to try and make amends, either win you back or die trying. 

     The outdoor air is refreshing, lacking the bitter burn of cigarette smoke he thought had made itself a permanent resident in his nostrils on the ride here—he’s happy to have been proven wrong. If the old trucker took one more puff Reacher was prepared to smash his wrinkled face into the steering wheel. Luckily, he was able to get off at a truck stop a couple of miles from your town and walk the rest of the way. 

     He remembers every square inch of this street—the names and building numbers of every structure along the way, hell, even the brand of asphalt they repaired the road with. When he was here all those years ago the town had this street blocked off while they worked, and he was forced to take detours when driving you around. Of all the high-speed chases he’s been in, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other out the window with a gun pointed back at some red-faced criminal, Reacher loved to joke that your little residential town was the most difficult to maneuver with all the construction always going on. Really, he loved it, because it meant he could use it as an excuse to hold your hand as the two of you traveled on foot. 

     Some of his best memories were made here, memories he’s clung to since the very last day he held you. Memories of you laughing, streetlights illuminating the shine of your teeth, memories of drunkenly kissing you against back alley brick walls, memories of dancing with you in your kitchen while cookies baked and the dishes were left ignored. He still can’t pass by any bakery without heading inside to grab a couple of cookies—one for himself and one for you, just in case, no matter where in America he finds himself. 

     Reacher is sick of holding out hope that maybe you’ll turn up out of nowhere. He knows better. You’ve never been a drifter, always a homebody, just as loyal to your hometown as you were to him. If he wants you back, he has to go back. He’s a man of action, a man who goes after what he wants, and he’s planning to get it.

     It’s Thursday—your grocery day. You don’t like to go in the mornings, too many old people, and at night all the freaks come out. Afternoon is too busy, when most people get off of work, and lunchtime is flooded with pretentious businessmen who look down their noses at you when they see what’s in your basket. Right after breakfast is peak time, according to you, when the market isn’t nearly as busy as usual and there’s still a good amount of product that hasn’t been rummaged through. You shop locally to support small businesses—he’s always admired your disdain for larger corporations—and favor the little store just a mile down from your apartment. That’s exactly where he heads.

     As the sliding doors part to give him entry, he sucks in a deep breath, goosebumps rising along his skin beneath the tattered jacket he wears. It still smells just the same, like an eternal autumn with hints of cinnamon and apple. Once you’d asked the owner how she got it to smell so good inside, and he gifted you that very candle she named for your birthday one year. It burned and wafted throughout your flat as he knelt between your legs and devoured the sweetest treat he’d have that night, more so than the cake he helped you bake or the red wine you made him share with you. That was the night he confessed his love to you, but you were already peacefully asleep in his arms, too deep in a dream to hear him. 

     The first aisle you’d always head for was the canned goods—farmers from all over town sell their product to the shop and you would take every opportunity to swear up and down that it would be the most delicious veggies and homemade sauces he’d ever taste. They were good, he’ll admit, but none of them scratched the surface of anything you made yourself. Reacher had always tried to convince you to start selling your own goods whether it be the frozen meals you prepped or the countless loaves of sourdough you handcrafted. He never could get you to listen, but that’s alright. It made him feel special that he was the only one who got to taste your passions. 

     After canned goods, you’d go for meat—two pounds of chicken, two pounds of beef, two pounds of pork. Never more, never less. Then, pantry staples if you were running low: pasta, rice, flour, sugar. If, once you had the necessities, you were left with a little extra spending money in your budget, you would grab extra chocolate chips to snack on and maybe sneak into some loaves of bread later. Every time you were ready to check out, you would go to the register where the sweet elderly lady works, because although she’s up there in age, her scanning skills are sharp and quick as ever. Besides that, she always checked up on you and Reacher, and he always pretended not to notice the way she’d look at your left hand for a ring every single time she saw you.

     When the big man makes his way to the register, a bouquet of flowers he doesn’t quite remember picking up looking comically small in his massive hand, he finds that she isn’t working today. That’s not odd. Maybe she retired. He makes his way to the owner’s register instead. There’s a piece of folded cardstock on the blank space before the scanner with the words Break - back soon! written across it. His eye twitches.

     It’s fine. Reacher has all the time in the world. He can wait. He’s used to waiting—made for it. In fact, it gives him time to think. 

     You were always comfortable in your apartment, perfectly content and happy. There’s very few reasons why you would suddenly up and leave, especially being so attached to familiar places. It’s safe to assume that you still live in the same complex, more than likely the exact same space. The address is one he knows by heart, not because of his rigorous military training but because of sentiment. He’s positive he could maneuver the route blind and mute and legless because his mind and soul has always made its way back to you. No reason to believe his body wouldn’t, too. 

     The hand wrapped around the delicate flowers squeezes a bit tighter in approval of his plan. Pay, then walk to the very place all of his dreams occur in. Pay, then fall at your feet and beg for forgiveness, convince you to find a reason to let him back in. Convince himself that he deserves the sweet relief of your forgiveness. 

     The bell dings as the front doors of the shop slide open, signaling the entrance of a new customer. Reacher pays it no mind—not until he hears the pitter-patter of little feet and the telltale whine of a discontented child. He turns to observe, eyes falling upon a pouting toddler with a faded stuffy in one tiny fist and a parent’s hand in the other. A father. 

     A father whose grip is far too tight for such a fragile wrist. A father who drags the girl along with a scowl on his face and a piss-poor attitude evident in every step he takes. The toddler’s whines turn into scared little sobs, and Reacher’s curiosity turns into unbridled rage.

     He didn’t come back to this town to cause a scene. He tries to avoid conflict nowadays, but perhaps his friends and enemies alike are right—trouble follows him everywhere, and he’ll be damned if he lets an injustice go unsolved.

     Reacher knows he’s going to end up in cuffs and ultimately the news once he’s done with this piece of shit. It’s not how he planned to reintroduce himself into your life, headlining the local newspaper, but it’s oddly fitting. A grand exit, a grand entrance.

     The bouquet is forgotten on the unoccupied register as he cracks his neck in preparation.

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

📦

Pro Hero and single father Eijiro Kirishima raises a brow when coming to a stop in front of the complex where he lived, tilting his head as he adjusts the hold he has on the groceries he’s carrying. There’s a large moving truck with various workers carefully handling belongings and boxes alike into the building. Fresh from patrol he had civilian clothes of an open button up manly-pink shirt to reveal the tight fitting black undershirt and a pair of stylish black cargo pants and boots with red hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. One of his hands was holding tightly to the little one of a small girl of six who eagerly licked the little peach popsicle she’d begged from her big strong daddy to buy. “Looks like someone new is moving in.”

Curious, Aida raises her rose quartz gaze to meet his carmine, the wind playing with the little sundress covered in tiny prints of unicorns and rainbows she wore as she grins. “Maybe a new friend!”

“Maybe,” he chuckles to himself; she definitely got that smile from him. “Or maybe it’s a monster come to gobble up the sweetest little treat that keeps getting into trouble with her teacher.”

“Monsters don’t exist, daddy! Don’t tease me!”

“What? All I’m saying is if you weren’t such a trouble maker maybe an Angel would move in instead of that nightmarish guy with that barking Rottweiler like last year.” He grumbles the last part to himself with an exasperated expression that earns his daughter’s bubbly laugh.

“Or maybe my new mommy is moving in!”

He chokes audibly on his own spit, making his hand holding the several bags of groceries nearly fall from his grasp. “A-Aida!”

With a laugh, she slips free from his other hand and skips a few steps ahead. Her smile wavers and the popsicle falls from her hand in slow motion as she trips on the curb, eyes widening as she reaches for him in hopes he’ll catch her. Eijiro is just a hint too slow, his red gaze catching sight of a car coming too close taking his full attention as he protectively moves forward—

“Whoa, easy there!”

His hand clasps empty air as a stranger appears from around the moving truck, your arms quickly scooping up the little girl to save her from the tumble. The Pro Hero can only watch in shock and mild amusement when his daughter begins to thank you profusely and even offers you the rest of her popsicle. “Thanks for the save, really, I—“ His words are cutoff when your gazes meet, for the first time in his life he felt as if the sky had swallowed him up when your lips rise into a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself.

“That was a close one!” You coo at Aida softly, brushing your fingers beneath her eyes when they threaten to tear up. “Aww, there, there! It’s alright now! See?” The little girl you held breaks into a fit of giggles when you nuzzle her cheek with your nose as a playful smile raises your lips.

Did his heart just skip a beat?

Did that long forgotten warmth suddenly flood his chest?

Did a blush just enter his cheeks when you shoot him a wink as you continue to play with his daughter?

Those hips…breasts…oh, heavens, those thighs…lean calves and arms…that face…your voice… He very much liked what he saw. “Oh, damn it all to hell…” he whispers to himself as he takes in your outfit and appearance.

“No swearing!”

Now the blush becomes one of embarrassment at his daughter’s scolding. “Hey, little gem, I’m the adult not you. I can say whatever I please!”

A laugh sounds from you that instantly earns his sheepish chuckle. “Your daddy is right, but a manly-man like himself should be a little more careful of that mouth of his when such a cutie is around! Gotta set the best example for the pretty little princess, after all!” The tip of your tongue teasingly appears between your smirking lips as you send him a wink.

Eijiro was never one to believe in that whole “love at first sight” nonsense. Even with his first wife, now deceased, there hadn’t been a connection like this. This felt like a wildfire had woken from deep within his veins.

Oh, shit…

He could barely compose himself when you introduced yourself. And when you said what unit you were moving into, revealing that is was the one directly across from theirs. Meaning if he opened his front door and you opened yours, the two of you would be facing one another.

Oh, shit…

“Daddy?” Seeing Aida become worried about her suddenly unresponsive father, you move closer so that her waving hand is closer to his face. Amusement filled you when the little girl promptly shoved the rest of her popsicle between his partially gaping lips. “Daddy! You’re staring at the nice lady!”

You couldn’t resist leaning closer and dipping your voice slightly. “Earth to Red Riot~, your daughter is calling you…”

Now that blush was all over his face and ears, not to mention his neck, when you whisper his hero name in that tone.

Oh, shit on a shingle in the scorching summer sun on a Sunday…

“Daddy, you look like Uncle Denki when he sees a pretty girl.”

He snaps out of his stupor with a full bodied shake, trying to regain his composure and gives a chuckle while quickly eating the popsicle that had been shoved between his lips. “Yeah, I hear her, and she’s about to get a visit from the tickle monster for saying I look like Kaminari!”

You can’t help but laugh as Aida clings to you for protection while begging to be saved when he wiggles the fingers of his free hand. “Oh, no! I must save the princess! Quick! Let’s run away!”

He almost fell into a fit of laughter when you slip her onto your back and start to run away. Never has he seen his daughter warm up to anyone this quickly! And he can’t help but notice how natural this all feels…you holding her so close to you, the smiles on your and her faces, how Aida even nuzzled into your hair when the wind made it tickle her face.

It was as if this moment was straight out of a movie, like a sappy rom-com his previous wife had loved to watch. The memory was heart aching when recalling how things used to be, how the woman who had birthed Aida all those years ago wasn’t here because of the illness which took her life before the little girl had turned two. The breath in his lungs suddenly catches when for a split second, in a sudden gust of wind that caused several fallen cherry blossom petals to swirl in the air around you and Aida, he swore he saw her form appear while resting a hand upon your heads as you continue to play together.

Was this a sign that it was okay for him to find love again?

The apparition turns her attention to him and smiles before it vanishes.

He nearly jumps when something brushes his cheek, his red gaze shifting down to see it’s your hand that’s carefully wiping away the tear slipping down his cheek that he himself hadn’t been aware of. The touch was so soft, light as a feather, and so warm…

“Daddy? What’s wrong?” Aida asks softly, her little hand meeting his other cheek as another tear falls. “It’s okay, daddy, there, there!”

Sympathy fills you when you see the loss in his gaze despite the smile raising his lips. Without a single word, you place her within his arms and collect the groceries he was still carrying so that the two can have a moment, smiling softly to yourself when the two tightly embrace one another. What a cute father-daughter pair they made. Your gaze shifts from them to the moving crew still at work and with a soft smile while placing the bags beside his feet so as not to disturb them, you turn and walk away to continue moving in.

Maybe coming to this side of town was going to be a good change after all.

[let-me-put-my-lips-to-something]

Fall Into Me

Sometimes the only recourse to being kicked out of eternal paradise is finding the demon who’s been in love with you for thousands of years and letting them remake you in their image.

Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (feat. wing kink and wax play), Body Horror (breaking of bones), Religious Imagery

---

It’s an odd thing to wake up tangled in the power lines. The electric buzzing of the wires should be frying his body, but he supposes God planned for this when He gave Angels hollow bones.

They do have their advantages, though. He is lighter than he looks, something that helped when he fell. His wings were just barely strong enough to slow his descent, though he couldn’t control what direction they sent him in. It’s how he ended up tangled in the wires with no way out.

His wings are pinned to his back at an awkward angle. He can’t get them free, the more he tries the more ensnared he becomes. The ridges of the wire catch on his feathers, painfully pulling them out. Blood smears across his back and he begins to panic.

He needs to get out of there. His wings, his beautiful wings, they’re going to be damaged. The clothes he is wearing tear apart as he thrashes, the rip of fabric mixes with his screams as the sickening crack of feathers breaking fills the air.

The sun has set by the time he stops fighting. The stars above mock him in his struggle. They taunt him, tell him that he is no longer a part of them. That he is no longer in His graces and that is why he is stuck.

I can’t get out on my own, I need someone to help me. His eyes adjust to the lack of light, pupils dilating to take in as much light as they can. The street below him is mostly empty, there are two kids down the way. Humans, or else they would have heard him scream. But there’s another figure, someone much closer looking directly up at him.

They’re the reason he fell, the demon that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about — stop craving — for millennia. He groans, of course they had to be here. He shouldn’t be surprised, they always seem to pop up wherever he goes.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. Because that means there is someone that can help him down. He can’t see what they are doing, the lit candle they are holding burns his eyes.

The only thing he can see is their red eyes, they nearly glow with the reflection of the dancing flame.

Those damned eyes, the ones that he can feel as they rake over his body every time he steps foot out of heaven. The eyes that follow his every movement, take up his every thought. They have even invaded his dreams, where they tempt him into sin.

They are far away, a blurred speck on the ground below him. But their voice carries itself on the wind as if it were a part of the heavens itself.

“You look a bit stuck, do you need help?”

Before he can answer, they set the candle in their hands down and spread their wings. It takes just a moment before they are set on the wires next to him. He lets them work on disentangling his limbs while he takes in every detail of their scraggly wings.

His arms are freed first and the first thing he does with them is reach out for them. He wants to touch them, wants to know how they feel. Do their wings feel like his? That’s not possible, they can’t be as soft. His wings were a gift from God himself.

His fingertips just barely graze the edge of the softest feather he has ever felt when he plummets to the ground. He lands hard, the air leaves his lungs. His wings crack and break below him, the pain floods his every nerve.

Tears flood his vision as he heaves. He tries to roll over, but the attempted movement makes the pain worse. It’s not long before he feels himself being picked up, the demon’s strong arms hook underneath his knees and back.

He cries out as he is cradled to their chest. The now useless wings drag like a dead weight below his body and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS.

The world fades to black around him, and when he comes to again he is being laid down on a soft mattress. He buries his face in a pillow and his wings splay out across the bed. The pain has dulled, this new position takes the weight and pressure off the broken appendages.

That doesn’t mean they’re any less sensitive, though. Something he finds out as clawed fingers trail down the skin between the broken wings. They bring pain, yes, but this pain is different. This pain is one that feels so good in a way that he never knew was possible. He moans as he wonders what else he has missed out on in his millennia of holiness.

“You’re so pretty like this, covered in blood and lying in my bed,” the demon whispers, their warm body pressed against his back. A shiver runs down his spine at the words, an unfamiliar warmth collects in the pits of his stomach.

Their hand is hot, it burns his skin as it traces a path down his side and over the swell of his ass. They don’t stop even as they reach the warmth between his legs — the one area of his body that not even God dared to touch.

“Look how wet you are for me. I thought you couldn’t sin but here you are, dripping for me.”

He presses his hips back into their hand. This is what God wanted the Angels to abstain from? This bliss, this is something he could have had at any point in the past millennia? Oh how misguided he was.

He whines as they pull their hand away from him, sitting back onto his legs so that they are no longer pressed up to him.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” The tone of their voice is serious as they speak. “This is something that you will not be able to recover from. By crossing this line, you will fall.”

“If I shall fall, then I shall fall into you,” he grits out. They don’t know he’s already been cast out. There is no returning for him, he might as well indulge.

He looks up at the demon over his shoulder, his eyes burning in a way they never have before. “Take everything of me and make it yours.”

There is a gleam of hunger in their eyes and it excites him. Nearly as much as the hard press of their excitement against his legs. But it’s his next words that set everything in motion.

“Make me worthy of you.”

The demon’s breath hitches, their eyes shine with something unreadable before lust swallows them. Any hesitation they had evaporates as they begin moving against him. Their hardness haunts him, teases him.

“How did I get so lucky,” they lean down to growl in his ear. They nip at his earlobe and oh God does it feel good.

Every tease of their sharp teeth against his neck makes him more excited, he wishes they would bite. He follows his instinct and stretches his neck as much as he can, giving them easier access to the area.

He lets out a shaky breath as their arm wraps around him, as their hand enters his warmth. They rub lazy circles there and he’s gone. He rocks his hips back into them, begging for more. His muscles spasm as he pleads, “Please, oh God. Please!”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his pleasure is ripped away as they pull their hand back. He whimpers at the loss.

“Don’t say His name,” the demon growls. “Tonight, I am your God.”

He peaks over his shoulder as he hears them adjusting their clothes. They remove their belt and use it to bind his arms behind his back. The leather holds his biceps secure, providing a slight lift to his limp wings.

The movement causes him to moan, but that moan quickly morphs into a scream as they dig their clawed fingers into the skin at the base of his wing. His back arches as he desperately tries to get away, but he can barely move with his arms bound and their weight on his back.

Tears stream down his face, why are they hurting him?

“Now let me hear you say it. Who is your God?” His mind is foggy and his vision is blurred. He can’t feel anything but their fingers in his skin and their hardness against his ass.

“You,” he gasps. “You are my God.”

The demon above him gives him no reprieve as they twist their hand into his broken feathers. It’s less pain this way and a coil of pleasure joins the pain as they card their fingers through the soft plumage.

He feels a rumble deep in his chest at the motion, the release of pain is almost dizzying. He’s breathless, he’s never felt like this. Never felt like he was flying even when he was firmly planted on the ground, never felt so Holy.

The last of his breath is squeezed out of his lungs as the demon presses him further into the mattress, leaning their full weight on his back as they grab a lit candle off the nightstand.

“Now, we’re going to have a little fun. If, at any point, you want me to stop you need to tell me. Understood?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he would ever want them to stop. They could ruin him, tear him limb from limb, and he would thank them for it.

“Good boy,” they purr. “Now let’s warm you up.”

The words are punctuated by drips of hot wax hitting his skin. It burns for just a moment before his skin pulls taut and it dries. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but oddly pleasant. That is, until the wax drips on his broken wings.

The pain is delicious. It’s as if his purity is being burned away by the wax and replaced by their sin. He gladly accepts that. They are taking him apart and remaking him with every drop of wax that splashes on his wings.

He’s never wanted before, but now he wants to scream. Wants to let the universe know who he is and who he belongs to. He wants to worship the demon, revere them for recreating him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, he feels them rut against his heat. Their jeans are gone, leaving them bare as they move against him. There are ridges along their shaft that pique his curiosity.

When he looks over his shoulder once more he is met with metal decorating their member. He salivates at the sight, what are those? Why would they alter the form that was given to them by Him?

But then he knows. He knows what they are for as the demon enters him. Each piece of metal hooks against him as they thrust in. It causes him to see stars. He wants to cry out, wants to tell them that it hurts.

They don’t slow, their thrusts brutally push him further into the mattress. Tears stream down his face and mix with the spit already polling on the pillow.

There’s so much happening, so many stimuli he has never experienced before. The metal he can feel as it moves within him, the punishing force of their hips into his, the burning of the wax on his wings, their fingers digging into his hip and pulling him back into them.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take, uncomfortable warmth is pooling deep within him. This isn’t enough for them, though, as they blow out the candle and toss it to the side. They use their now free hand to reach below him, wrapping their large claws around his throat and pulling his body off the mattress.

His wings are pinned between their bodies, his hands flatten against their lower stomach. There is just enough room for him to spear his hands, grabbing their hips and pulling them in.

The hand around his throat tightens, constricting his airways. He throws his head back against their shoulder, an invitation which they do not hesitate to accept as they press their mouth to the soft expanse of skin.

He gasps, struggling to take in air. His vision is spotty and oh God I’m close.

As if they can hear his thoughts, they bite down hard. Their teeth draw blood as his world explodes into light. He screams, his legs trembling as he comes.

They don’t stop their ministrations. They keep pounding into him and they chase their own pleasure. It’s too much, the stars in his vision turn to pin pricks of pain.

Just as he opens his mouth to demand they stop they release their grip on his throat, shoving two fingers into his mouth. Then, they utter a command that he has no choice but to obey.

“Bite.”

If my God wills it, then I shall give it to Them.

He clamps down around their fingers and his mouth fills with the tang of blood. Their hips stutter as they moan, a warmth filling his insides.

They let go of him and he falls back onto the mattress. The movement rips them from within him. He whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Something warm drips out of him, but he’s too tired to try and figure out what it is.

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is the demon removing the belt from around his arms and leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“You have always been worthy of me, I was just waiting for you to see that you deserved more than what He could give you.”

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

The problem is that MCU is willing to show the system is flawed but not willing to admit it's wrong. Either wrong in what the system did or does or that simply the system in itself is wrong in extending at all.

Few bad apples excuse. Say it needs to be better but never show how it needs to be fundamentally changed to stop the rot from spreading

It's like they think we're too stupid to understand complex storylines, and they have been doing this for a while now. TFATWS was the worst offender along with the Loki series as they had the audacity to demand that Bucky make amends to the victims as if he wasn't a victim himself. All that focus on his actions and feelings of guilt and not a damn second spent on trying to hold the government accountable for Hydra.

TWS did a part of it right with Steve deciding to take down all of Shield, but that story was quickly forgotten and CW even had the guts to try and paint the heroes in a bad light as if the government had any moral superiority here (it's still mind-blowing to me that Ross showed the NYC invasion and the helicarriers and those two were framed as arguments against the heroes and not the government).

It's super status quo-friendly which is a little insulting given that superhero movies should be the exact opposite of that. And it winds up hurting the characters as well: Steve wouldn't have left the Raft after getting his friends out, he would have done something about the prison itself. Loki would never feel amazed by the TVA, he's the god of outcasts for crying out loud, he'd be horrified by them. Sam would never tell Bucky to man up and go to the victims, he would have stormed the freaking White House to have a word with the President himself and tell him off for trying to blame it all on Bucky.

I get why we have that speech in TWS when Steve calls out to the good agents inside Shield and a lot of them stand up and fight off the Hydra shills. But damn... something should have been done regarding the "good" people who agreed with Hydra's methods without knowing it and let them grow strong enough to almost put 3 helicarriers in the air. Marvel wants us to believe those were all Hydra but that's not true... and that's the scary part!

Too bad Secret Invasion was too scared to go that route. Every single one of these movies and series are always the same: this new organization is super fucked up and all the agents are doing stuff that is shady af but don't worry, we'll kill the guy on top and everything will be alright 🤦‍♀️

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

It's time for the flash fiction about Maddock!!

[652 words]

--A little bit of what Maddock was doing before, sorry for any errors, I wrote with my heart :3--

He trudges his way through the snow, the wild wind biting and cruel. His dark hair whips around him, his breath running ragged, he can't stop now, he can't. He spent too long tracking the beast, the Void-damned thing almost shook him, it ends now. He pushes forward, his strong legs sinking into the snow further with each step, he grits his teeth, annoyance burning bright in his veins.

This monster has been actively taunting the folk who live up this high, in the places where his Majesty the King refuses to send aid to the border towns, always ripe for an attack and essentially defenseless. These towns are expendable to the Monarchy, they live too far for them to care it seems.

And so they need people like him, people with skills enough to take down the creatures that come from the Void, laying waste to good honest folk, just trying to live, old traditions kept alive through these people, remembering the old ways. That's probably the real reason why the King doesn't give a shit, these people aren't cowards, they won't bow and he knows that, so he sees fit to stay his hand while they die off.

Maddock fucking hates that. People deserve to live as they like, as long as they don't cause suffering, so what if they like praying to trees?

The wind hits harder, as if it wasn't horrible enough, he pushes on, gripping his furs closer to his body, refusing to give in to this chill. He's been living up here for nigh on ten years, doing his job, accepting whatever the people can spare, even if it's just a meal for the night. Though it's spent mostly alone, it's better that way, better to be alone than to cause harm again…

A frantic cry warbles out into the air around him, the equal sound of a woman crying, and an otherworldly screaming. His mouth presses into a stoic line. It's time.

He grabs a fistful of iron and salt from his pack. It won't cause a ton of damage, though it'll be enough to distract this creature. From the treeline he spots a faint apparition, a woman in her wedding clothes. The weeping intensifies, for a moment, just a moment, he feels unfathomable pity for this creature, for its cruel existence.

As soon as the feeling came, it was gone. Maddock charges forward through the snow, unsteadily making his way closer, the creature waits, as if expecting this. As soon as he's close enough, he flings the fistful of iron and salt at it, the creature emits a horrific gurgling sound, he narrows his eyes, grabs his sword.

The dance fully begins.

-

He sits upon a rock jutting from the crisp white sea of snow, his brow coated in sweat, he holds his sword arm, hisses in pain, then folds the furs over to reveal a deep bite, courtesy from the creature's dagger-like teeth. He quickly rustles around in his pack, grabs the pot of honey he always carries with him, he uncorks it with one hand, dropping the lid to his side, he gingerly scoops a viscous blob of it onto the wound. He cries out, momentarily stunned by the pain, a tear slips from his eye, and rolls down to his upper lip before freezing in place.

Before him a dazzling light calls attention to itself, he stares at it, incredulous. The light coalesces into a golden blob, and then, it speaks.

"Dear friend, it is time for your self imposed isolation to end--"

He knows that voice, he huffs out a laugh as it continues with its message.

"I know you'd not come under normal circumstances, stubborn man that you are, so I'm calling in one of my favors, meet someone for me at the port in Aisley, won't you dear? I have all the details for you.."

Damn it, Safira.

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 19: Keeping Someone Safe ~ Vilkas/F!Dragonborn [2,166 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Canon-typical violence here ⚔️ more hurt/comfort than fluff honestly, but it has a fluffy ending!

In hindsight, Vilkas should have seen it coming. Over time, he’d grown accustomed to Astra’s affinity for magic – mostly because by the time they’d known one another for a year, by the time she was Harbinger and he felt shamed by how he’d treated her in those early days, there was little he suspected he would not accept about her. Not lead because the more he saw, the more respect he had, and the more he knew there was nothing she would do that he could not respect.

There was one spell, however, that disconcerted him from the very first moment he saw it. It was after they’d avenged Kodlak, making camp after a fierce battle with the Silverhand…and all the while, he struggled to continue pretending he had not yet noticed just how damned beautiful she was. It was more difficult to keep up that pretence now that their mission was complete and all that was left to do was face the return journey to Jorrvaskr together.

She’d been in a questionable state, then – sore, tired, bloodied, just as he was, but with the added dilemma of being low on Magicka. When their fire would not start, the wood too frost-ridden and the impending blizzard threatening to make it worse, she’d trotted out the spell. Brow furrowed in concentration, her right hand was held aloft and a foul red light began to wind its way around her, leaving Vilkas to watch warily as her face grew a shade paler. After, she’d been able to conjure a fireball hot and strong enough to get the fire going.

“I thought you’d ran out of magic back then,” he’d said. “Does it regenerate that quickly?”

Something to do with her being the Dragonborn, perhaps?

“The spell before that,” she’d explained, voice rough. “It adds to my magic reserves – at the cost of my health.”

“To what extent?”

“Whatever extent the caster allows. A desperate measure…but this cold would kill even Nords such as us.”

Afterwards, he’d put the matter from his mind all too willingly. It had, after all, been the only time he’d seen her use it – before or since. She’d spoken truthfully when she said it was a desperate measure, and he could not fairly fault her for using it in those cases. Vilkas trusted her judgement.

At least until the next time rolled around.

What was supposed to have been a fairly routine draugr-infested dungeon clear-out ended up sending them headlong into a fight with something much more terrible. A Dragon Priest. They’d been woefully ill-prepared for such a battle. Foolishly ill-prepared, even with Astra’s habit of hoarding potions instead of damn well using them. And it showed. By that point, retreat wasn’t an option – some foul sorcery keeping them locked in the dungeon until they defeated their foe, and so the only way to go was through.

The fight was a laborious thing – even by the standards of their usual fights – their foe was fierce, but that was not a trait that they themselves lacked either, and it eventually became clear that it was a matter of who would tire first. Who would make the first mistake. Vilkas knew not whether Dragon Priests tired, but he could only hope that if not, they at least erred.

Moments after that half-hearted hope crossed his mind, disaster struck. Wedging the blade of her dagger in her mouth, Astra bared her teeth in a feral snarl, brought her two palms together, and shot a hefty ice spike in the direction of the Priest. It hit its mark, flying through his ward like it was nothing and embedded itself in his chest, sending him flying back from where he’d hovered in mid-air. But the force knocked Astra back, too, landing hard on the stone floor of the tomb. The Dragon Priest recovered faster.

Vilkas had no arsenal of spells – he had no bow, he didn’t even have a dagger. Nothing to stop the Priest from attacking, and no time to cover the distance required to prevent any real attack. Either dazed, weakened, or both, Astra faltered in getting up and the loathsome creature lifted one gnarled hand, ice forming around its claw-like fingers much like it had gathered in the blonde’s grasp moments prior.

Ducking, Vilkas seized an axe from the hand of a dispatched draugr and hurled it at the Priest. It met its mark, finishing the job Astra’s previous attack had started…but not before the ice spike shot from its hand. It was then that he did the only thing he could do – the only thing that made sense.

“Vilkas, no!” her shriek was ragged, and he went down at the same time the Priest did.

Although it looked like he’d die a touch more slowly, the spike embedded neatly between his collarbones, hardly slowed at all by his armour. He tasted copper rather swiftly. Kneeling over him in an instant, her icy blue eyes wide with terror, she tried to summon the familiar golden glow of a healing spell into her hands – both hands – but it fizzled out before his skin could even be warmed by it.

Swearing raggedly, she parted her hands. The light in the right remained golden, but the left was soon enveloped in the glowing red light he’d hated so much the last time he’d seen it.

Vilkas seized her hand, unable to speak – unable to tell her not to be so daft, nor that if there was any way he could choose to go, it would be this one. In defence of her. Unable even to admit that he only wished he’d been able to kiss her first. Just once.

But she shook him off, and that terrible red light began worming its way up her arm, her face paling as she channelled her lifeforce into driving healing magic into him, instead. The world faded to black by the time the red glow had wormed its way up to her elbow.

Consciousness returned to him in dribs and drabs. A scratchy tightness in his throat that usually followed a night of giving in to his brother plying him with ale – along with an ache in his shoulders and upper back, reminding him that he was no longer a lad who had seen but twenty summers, who might sleep where he dropped without feeling the consequences of it the next day.

He grunted, but it came out as more of a wheeze, a stray gust of wind howled throughout the crypt, and awareness finally hit him. As did the quiet. Eyes flying open, the light assaulted them quickly but he did not allow himself to pause, hands scrabbling for purchase on the stony floor as he shoved himself up. As he did so, his right hand met skin – smooth, soft skin, not that of any draugr. And it was cold as ice.

Astra lay slumped on the ground beside him, her face stark white and her lips blue – so blue that he thought her dead, until her eyelids twitched and he caught the shallow, beleaguered rise and fall of her chest. Vilkas had seen enough corpses to know she was very close to becoming one.

She had her last resorts, and he had his. Graverobbing. They’d passed enough burial urns to come through here, plenty brimming with treasures left behind for long-departed loved ones, leaving them all untouched because they weren’t beasts. But now he had no choice. If he had to answer to the Nine for this one day, so be it.

Minutes later he returned, although he still feared it was too long a time away, feeling sick to the core that he’d return to find the few meagre signs of life utterly gone – that she’d passed alone, on the floor of a dungeon while he scraped for scraps to help. But she had not. So, he allowed himself to hope. The three healing potions he’d managed to find helped with that, and he hoped they would help more still.

The potion ordinarily looked like pink-tinged water, but it might as well have been as vivid as blood for how it stood out in sharp contrast to her pallor, pooling at her lips and sliding down her chin. She’d cut one side of her lips when she’d wedged the dagger between them, and the potion healed as it trickled across it, the skin slowly knitting together. Vilkas stared at it for a moment, and then he took inspiration – if she could not drink it, perhaps she would still absorb it.

Cutting away her leather armour, and dearly hoping she’d live to scold him for it later, he dripped the potion across whatever skin he could find. Her jaw, her neck, the expanse of skin above her breastband, and he almost sobbed in relief when her heartbeat strengthened beneath his ministrations, and colour slowly returned to her skin.

By the time he uncorked the second bottle, she was hazily drinking it down – although still far from conscious. Hope. All he could do was hope.

Astra was awoken by the smell of a campfire. The sound of one, too, after she drifted a little more into consciousness. A fleeting sense of urgency flitted through her then – but one untethered to anything so mundane as reason or coherency, so she left it to drift by with little more than a furrowed brow and a weary exhale. The sigh wheezed its way out of her, high and reedy. She grunted. Had she drank last night? Farkas, though she loved him like a brother, liked to pretend that all had the same tolerance to ale that he did.

“Astra?”

It was not Farkas’ voice that met her ears then, but Vilkas’ – and that was all it took for everything to hit. Vilkas. The last she recalled, she’d been kneeling over him as he died, furiously funnelling more and more of her lifeforce into Magicka, despite the dizziness that pulled at her head, the black spots dotting her vision, and the cold that quickly seeped into her bones.

Her eyes opened as a hand cupped the side of her face, and she was met with the sight of piercing grey eyes before her. And a grin. Vilkas so rarely grinned – although he was not so without humour as he’d have some believe. His usual war paint was little more than a brown smudge around the very edges of his eyes, blending in to the dark circles that had formed around his eyes, thick dark stubble lined his jaw, and there was an angry patch of sore red skin at his throat, as though he’d had a brush with what was almost frostbite.

Throwing herself into his arms required more strength than she had – but he met her halfway, pulling her bodily the rest of the distance until she was all but in his lap, clinging to her as fiercely as she tried to cling to him.

“Never again!” he insisted fiercely into her tangled hair. “Do you hear me, Astra? Never!”

“Should we talk about the decision that led to me doing it?” she countered, unabashed. “Would you make me such a promise?”

He drew back and she only then noted their surroundings. Still where they’d been when she was last conscious, he’d dragged out the bodies of the draugr and the Dragon Priest, and decimated a bookcase and its ancient contents for the fire that now burned on the cleared-out stone floor. He’d even unpacked his bedroll to deposit her into. How long had she been out? It took the fire out of her next question more than her sorry shape ever could.

“What were you thinking?” she breathed. “You dove in front of that…you were a hair’s breadth from…”

She was certain he was going to die – and even then, she’d have acted no differently, fuelling her life-force into healing spells to drive into his lifeless- no. No. It had not happened. Against all odds, it had not happened. Her hands began to tremble, even where they clung onto him.

Through it all, all she could think of was how stupid they’d been. Not even in what they’d done here, for deep down she knew if it were to happen again tomorrow, or in an hour, or in the next minute, they’d do it all again exactly as they had, but in everything before. In all of the shared looks that didn’t amount to anything, both too nervous to have the follow-through on what they both hoped the other was feeling. The thing that now showed very clearly in both of their faces, and how they clung to one another still.

“I couldn’t lose you,” he said. “I won’t lose you.”

“…We’re of one mind then,” she said.

It took less bravery than she thought. Because it was obvious now, was it not?

If it hadn’t already shown on his face, she would’ve known from the way he kissed her then.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 17: Helping Hand (Free Day)

Against the snow of Whitebrim, Dia stood tall to practice her magic. Almost a year of recovery passed by her slowly, but after the dynamis finally cleared and her nerves and reaction time had returned near to normal, magic flowed through her without problems. Fire roared, fae magic whispered in the wind, and ice fell from above. Yes, all was as it should be for her...mostly...

Now was the time for lightning to strike at her command. Clouds gathered to aid her, thundering loudly, and the electricity surging in the skies filled her with power. It was time to cast Thunder once again. Adrenaline rushed through her as she was to call down lightning. Just as she began to raise her codex to the air, however, it flashed by her eyes in a second.

The haunted red and black aether of Zenos viator Galvus, scythe in hand, leaping to slice into her, her only saving grace being that of the dynamis surrounding her, and an undying wish of hers to live and for him to never hurt again. She grappled with fear and anger and a strange, strange feeling...

Then she returned to the moment, and in the same second she saw her former enemy, her hand tingled with the electricity of her spell, incredible pain shooting down her right arm.

"FUCK!"

Dia fell to her knees, clutching her arm, shivering in pain, using any spell she could think of to help her injured hand. Eos raced to her side to try and help her. "Oh, thank the gods I fucked up that cast, Eos. That could have cost me an arm." As she attempted to fix the problem herself, she found her efforts futile. "Damn it, I can't fix this. All right, Eos, to Captain Whitecape."

Her arm was too injured to attempt a cast of Teleport, so she instead called upon her chocobo, who carried her back to the Gates of Judgment.

------

"All right, and this should help the nerve pain", Captain Whitecape offered a bottle of some sort of alchemical solution. The two of them were in a hospital room in the Congregation, a place Dia came to know well after all of the physical therapy she undertook here. Dia took the bottle and drank the concoction. Dia let escape a puff of air as the solution was certainly strong. "Gods, they ought to put this stuff in with the fare at the Forgotten Knight", Dia joked, "It'd be stronger than their usual."

"Maybe then, my patients would take their medication."

Dia scoffed.

"Don't feel too bad, Mistress Sito. You're certainly not the first mage to botch a cast that I've ever seen, and likely, you shan't be the last."

"I broke the first rule of casting: don't hesitate. You know what I did? I hesitated", Dia chastised herself.

"The good news is that you couldn't have timed your hesitation better. What you felt was simply aspected aether running down your arm, and not lightning itself. That much would have been harder to repair."

Dia groaned in frustration. "I guess. It's weird, Captain. Even when I had the aether in my control, I felt...heavier with it than I used to."

"You're most likely just out of practice. Keep working on your casting, my friend, and I think you'll soon find yourself back to where you were before, if not incredibly close."

Dia frowned. Both of them focused their attentions to the door as they heard a knock.

"Who is it?" Captain Whitecape asked. "I'm with a patient."

"A loved one of said patient."

Both of them could recognize Aymeric's voice from anywhere. "This would be your call, Mistress Sito. I can tell him to bugger off if you would like this to remain private."

Dia shook her head. "He was gonna find out about this one way or another. Let him in."

Whitecape went to the door and opened it for his boss. Aymeric walked in, making a straight path to Dia's bed where he sat next to her. "Ser Handeloup told me you came here gripping your hand. Are you all right?"

That bloody snitch!

He gasped as he saw her mangled hand, purple and black aether pulsating underneath her skin, the veins throbbing. "Fury!"

"It's all right, really. I was practicing casting again and I messed up a cast of Thunder. This is just aether. He already gave me some medicine, so I'm just waiting for it to kick in."

"Once it does, Mistress Sito's hand should return to functioning, after which time", he turned to Dia, "I advise you to revisit your hand exercises."

"Fair point."

Once Captain Whitecape gave the all clear, and saw that her hand looked closer to normal, Aymeric and Dia walked to Borel Manor together.

"You said you hesitated in your cast?" Aymeric clarified.

"Yup."

"What caused your hesitation?"

The memory of my fallen enemy coming back to kill me.

"I...don't know. All I know is that the minute I tried, I just..couldn't."

Aymeric hummed.

"Gods, I just...am I sure there's nothing missing? Even when I was surging with power, something was off. I felt imbalanced."

"Did Captain Whitecape have anything to say on the matter?"

Dia shook her head. "He just thinks I need to keep practicing, but it's not like that, Ayms. I've gone a ways without using combat magic before and picking it up again never felt like that."

"Perhaps a second opinion is warranted."

"No, there's not a better chirurgeon in Ishgard."

"Then what of the Conjurers Guild?"

Dia's eyebrows raised. "You think they would help?"

"I think it foolhardy to not give them a chance to aid you. Kan-e-Senna was a fine healer, and I'm certain she's not the only capable conjurer available."

"She's technically a White Mage, but still...I guess...better than keeping around that heavy feeling and risking my arm every time."

"I couldn't agree more."

--------

The midday shined into the hollow of the Conjurers Guild. Dia stepped down the path and approached the lobby, looking around the place.

"Can I help you?" A voice asked.

Dia brought her focus to the voice's source: a padjal with short blond hair and emerald green eyes.

"Oh. Hello there. I was wondering if...I might get some help."

"I can certainly try. Please, join me in the other room." Dia followed the padjal through a door and down a hall. "My name is I-Seko-Pesi. I'll do my best to aid you today." He opened a door and allowed Dia entry. Once he closed it, he asked, "May I presume this is about your right hand?"

Dia looked down. Though much of the black and purple aether had retreated, and her control over her hand felt normal again, some of the discoloration yet remained. "Pray forgive me if I'm wrong, but it looks like a cast of some spell may not have been performed correctly. Something lightning-aspected?"

"I mean, you're not wrong, but that's being treated, believe it or not. It's not why I'm here."

"Very well. What brings you to me, then?"

Dia tried to find the words. "Well...you are right in that I did cast a spell incorrectly. You see, it started a year ago--"

"You returned to Hydaelyn from the end of the universe with life-threatening injuries, which has kept you abed for quite some time."

Dia gawked at him. I-Seko-Pesi laughed. "Worry not. The Elder Seedseer warned us that you might visit us for treatment because of this. That said, enough time had passed that I thought it unlikely to happen...until today, that is. I know who you are, Dia Sito."

"Oh, that's...reassuring..."

"I know perfectly well that you have saved our universe. But one look at you tells me that you're not happy with what occurred to bring you to this point."

Dia's discomfort grew as he seemed to peer into her soul.

"So, what is it exactly that brings you here?"

"My spellcasting and my reflexes are a bit...sluggish, as it were. The chirurgeon I was seeing before insists I'm just out of practice, but something feels...wrong. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Hm, I see." I-Seko-Pesi gestured to a chair. "Take a seat. I would be happy to inspect you." Dia obeyed and sat down. There wasn't an ilm of her that I-Seko-Pesi didn't cover. Something close to twenty minutes passed before I-Seko-Pesi rose.

"Physically, I cannot find a single thing wrong with you aside from your arm, though you were telling the truth when you said it's being treated."

Dia sighed defeatedly.

"Pray do not give up hope too easily, Dia. There's one area I've yet to check." The padjal went behind her and cast some sort of spell over her head. "Tell me exactly what happened to your arm."

She told him everything- that she was in the best shape she had been in a while, felt confident enough to try casting again, and failed when she hesitated.

"What caused your hesitation?"

For some reason, she felt quite calm. There was nothing that kept her from telling the truth to him- not that he was forcing it out, but rather, she felt comfortable enough to admit it to him.

"I...had a vision of sorts."

"Oh?"

"There was an enemy of mine, Zenos viator Galvus. When I was trying to cast, I saw him again; he was trying to slice into me."

I-Seko-Pesi's magic made auras appear before him- he deduced the emotional state of his patients using color and shape. Before, Dia's was a pale blue wave, but the blue was being intruded upon by a red and black spark.

"Tell me more of this man."

That made her chest tighten. The aura in the back of her head grew overwhelmingly bright, the red and black spark overtaking any calm, and the spark itself backfired against him, tossing I-Seko-Pesi across the room.

"Thal's balls!" Dia stood up and ran to the padjal. "Are you all right?"

The conjurer groaned a bit in pain. "There's a reason we keep cushions on these walls."

She never thought about it, but there was, in fact, cushioning along these walls.

"You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to send a conjurer flying." Once I-Seko-Pesi stood up and healed a bit of pain in the back of his neck, he declared, "I believe I've found the source of the sluggishness."

"Zenos?"

"In a sense. Come, take a seat again."

"I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't. This time, I know better."

Dia gulped before taking the seat as he requested. I-Seko-Pesi returned to the back of her head and started casting. "As I'm certain you know, magic takes quite a bit of focus. This is why casters rely on Lucid Dreaming to help us restore our mana pools. Your mind must be free of distraction. Unfortunately, your travails against this Zenos person have brought you to a point where your mind is burdened and recalling the pain and suffering he has inflicted upon you."

As he examined her, he noticed that there was a red spike- he was not in danger, but rather, she felt ashamed of something.

"Is there something more to this?"

She figured that if I-Seko-Pesi was using magic to read her emotions, it was useless to lie anyway. That said, she still didn't know how to phrase it.

"You are safe in here, Dia. I am legally obligated not to say a word to anyone. Such are protections in Gridania as we also provide mental healthcare."

The shame switched to an orange vibrating ball. She feared something. "You're not throwing me into a sanitarium, are you?"

"Nonsense. The sanitarium is for tortured souls that might hurt themselves or others. I deem you not a danger, Dia. You're safe."

I-Seko-Pesi's magic allowed for soothing effects to overtake the brain, enough that Dia could recall her feelings surrounding Zenos without too much trouble. Her aura shifted to a gray sludge as she recalled it.

"He used me."

"How?"

"He got an Ascian to rip my soul from my body, place mine in a corpse he dug up from gods only know where, and parade himself about in my own body. I fought my way to tempered Garleans and magitek, crawled through the snow as my strength failed me, and just barely made it in time to stop him from murdering all of my loved ones using my own body."

I-Seko-Pesi grimaced. "Matron preserve..."

"Never mind how he left me for dead on multiple occasions when I attempted to stop him from murdering everyone. And failed. Miserably. Then he has the gall to try and help me at the last minute, gorging on the last of the Mothercrystal's aether to fly to me, just so he could battle me once more. He stalked me, like I was prey to him. I agreed to it."

"How did that make you feel?"

"...I did it to make sure he could never touch anyone I love again. It made me feel...obligated. I felt angry. Yet, I felt pity for him too. That really was the only thing he had left to live for. If I suffered him for much longer, imagine what he could have done next, especially with the aid of Mothercrystal aether."

He saw the cacophony of emotions swirl about, but she left out one specifically.

"There was something else", I-Seko-Pesi reminded her. "Something that I wonder if you even remember."

There was. The sensation she felt in her interruption in Whitebrim called back to mind.

"What was it, Dia?"

Her breathing quickened as the answer bit away at her soul. I-Seko-Pesi could see the shame reappear.

"Please, do not let shame stop you. I promise, I want to help you, even if you are not proud of it."

"...I hate that I felt it", she admitted voicelessly.

"What do you hate?"

"...bliss."

This confirmed what I-Seko-Pesi saw. "And why did you feel bliss?"

"To return every last bit of pain he ever inflicted on me tenfold. To feel the control I had in that moment. It was my moment. It was mine, and not his. Oh, I never had that in battle before."

"And that terrifies you to feel this."

"Yes. It proves his point."

"What point?"

"That I'm just as bloodthirsty as him."

I-Seko-Pesi took in a deep breath. "There's a bit of animal in all of us. This animal is good, mind you. It serves to help every last one of us survive. It keeps us connected with Hydaelyn as a star. Animals, like anything else, react to their surroundings. You said it was only in that battle that you felt that bliss?"

"Yes. I've never liked fighting before that. I did it because I had to."

"A fair point. You've known Zenos only as a threat. When the time came that you felt able to quell it, you took it. You've faced your defeats against him, you destroyed despair itself just before that, you had dynamis surging through you. Even if these weren't aiding factors, is it so bad that you felt that while destroying him?"

"It's terrible that I felt that."

"Is it? The feeling was simply that, Dia- a feeling. You've not chosen to seek that bliss again from anyone else in the same manner. While your feelings are important, holding onto shame as you reconcile these things within you will only hamper you in the long run."

"I..."

"I would like to help you resolve this conflict within you in another session. Might you be willing to return to me next Earthsday? One o' clock?"

"Are you sure?"

"If you wish to regain your former clarity and balance when you cast, I urge you to consider meeting with me regularly. I can help, and I wish to help. It would be my honor."

Dia smiled. "All right. Earthsday, one o' clock. I'll be here."

"Wonderful."

Dia stood up before the padjal asked, "May I ask one more thing?"

"Sure."

"What compelled you to take on such a monumental task?"

"...Hydaelyn. Before I killed her anyway."

He quickly realized he was absolutely onto something by asking her to return regularly. That's way too many issues to try and cover in a day.

"I see. I look forward to meeting you again."

She grinned. "Yeah, me too. Take care." She waved and walked out of his office. As she approached the entrance, she took a deep breath of the Gridanian air and exhaled slowly.

I'm returning here a lot, aren't I?

[apocalypticanuyushi]

Silver Infinity ((Kamukura X Komaeda)) (Chapter One)

There was no sea too brutal for the shadow of the ship that caressed the ocean. Not even as the waters gashed across the wooden sides, or the masts cracked and snapped with the wind pounding against them, the ship stood strong and the crew even stronger. 

 "Four o'clock, Captain!" A man's voice called from the lookout tower, swaying so meticulously that it was as though the man would fall at any moment. It was a wonder such simple human eyes could see beyond the thick blanket of rain, but not even the storm could hide the massive vessel approaching ever closer.   The ship swiveled near, only narrowly avoiding slamming the boats into each other.   The captain squinted his eyes, struggling to see who was steering such a ship, and who had the gull to simply park beside him like they were summoned to some dinner party. 

 The unsteady flooring didn't serve any help but it wasn't that much a problem, this wasn't the first storm the Captain had pushed through.   He took a short step forward and placed his pale hand on the railing, keeping himself standing as he continued to study the second ship.   It was painted in black, much too fancy for another pirate. How stupid did they have to be, flaunting their wealth on the open waters?  This was just begging to be robbed.   "Men," He started a command towards the waiting crew before a flash of a moving figure pulled his attention back to the opposite wheel. A man stood tall, features too difficult to make out in the storm.   Though it must have been the Captain, who else would it be?

 "Captain Izuru Kamukura of Damascus!" The voice called over, almost drowned out with the boiling seawater crashing against the ships.   "You pilot the Warrior's Revenge, right!?"  Izuru didn't find such a thing worthy of a response.  "I've been looking for you, King!" Despite the boasting weather, somehow the voice came clear to the Captain. Perhaps he always had a good sense of hearing, or the other captain drew his attention beyond the thunder, for whatever reason, he could hear the milky voice of the man calling over and he wasn't pleased with it.  "Mind if we come over?" 

Izuru barely had time to respond before the enemy's crewmen dropped a board between the ships. He wasn't sure what it was, but something in the Captain's mind snapped in anger. Who was this guy that dared invade his ship? Someone being a damn idiot, what else?   The Captain drew his sword with a metallic scrape from the sheathe and hurried to the lower level of the ship where his men were already engaged in battle. It took only a glance of the enemy's men to see they were thin and fragile, barely worth his attention. No, his crew could handle these guys, Izuru's focus was more turned to...

 Yes, there. Beyond the makeshift bridge, the Captain's shadow lay beyond. He stood tall, perhaps slightly taller than Izuru himself, with hands bearing a sharp-edged sword. Take out the leader, that would end it. The Captain allowed himself to look a minute more, simply taking in the view of who would soon be spilling blood into the blue sea. Perhaps the sharks would enjoy having a taste of such an elegant 'pirate', if that's what he could even be called. He could not see this man as a fellow pirate. 

As he inhaled, Izuru could taste the electricity in the air. It felt energizing, but not quite exciting. Not yet at least, if he could even feel excited. That would depend on how well this man could put up a good fight. It had been a while since anyone dared challenge him of all pirates. As carefully as he could without falling into the ravaged waves below, Izuru pushed himself forward onto the board. The waiting man made no movements. He was almost like a statue.   One foot in front of the other, his black boots glided across the wood. Just as he thought it would be flawless, from the corner of Izuru's eye, a wave edged before throwing itself between the ships. 

 All at once, the dark Captain was submerged into the thick waters below. Everything was dark, and no matter how much he tried to breathe, his lungs only continued to suck in water.  Izuru almost wanted to cough but he couldn't even do that. No, he needed to swim up. Swimming was something he could do obviously, but staying afloat in this storm would be the tricky part.   Clutching his sword in hand, the Captain pulled a smaller knife from his pocket and thrust himself forward, making it a chore to not be swept away.   Holding his breath this long wasn't a problem, but it wasn't preferable. Through the dark waters, Izuru could see the man's ship before him, and without a second thought, plunged the blades into the wood, holding himself still.   It wasn't like this was going to sink an entire ship, it was thicker than that by a mile. 

 Well, that was an exaggeration. Pulling out the knife, he rose his arm and sunk it higher into the wood, and then repeated it with the sword until he was scaling the ship.   The moment he broke the surface, Izuru gasped for a heavy breath and allowed himself to take a moment to cough the vile water out of his lungs. The relief didn't last long, not when the enraged ocean continued pummeling his body. Shaking the water out of his eyes, Izuru looked to the sky, catching sight of the Captain leaning over the railing, watching him without moving. Was this some sick pleasure for this guy to watch? 

 Izuru couldn't really feel angry of course, he would do the same if he were that man. It still didn't feel nice though.  "Throw me a rope," Izuru demanded, slightly louder than he normally bothered speaking. "Unless you want me to stab you as many times as I'm doing to your precious, pretty boat."  As the other Captain didn't speak, he vanished behind the railing. 

 Was Izuru really just ignored? Just wait until he got up there, making him do all this annoying work just to kill a man.  Pulling out his sword again, he was about to stab it into the wood once more before a rope was suddenly dropped beside him, the wind causing it to smack against his body.  The Captain didn't waste any time in holding it still and returning the knife to his pockets. So the guy could listen, great to know.  His sword would stay out though, he could scale a rope holding a sword no problem, and he did.  It didn't take long for Izuru's feet to fall to the deck, and the rope to be thrown back over the side. That wasn't his responsibility to clean up. But the other Captain was nowhere to be seen. Fled in fear? How predictable.

 "Nice to meet you!" A voice suddenly called over the storm. Izuru didn't have a chance to look for the source before he was raising his sword to block an attack. The sound of the sword clanging together caused a sharp ring to echo in his ears.  Finally, he was getting a good look at this Captain, but it seemed like the other Captain was staring just as deeply at him.  White hair, lime eyes, he looked like a ghost or some ill patient. And ever so scrawny, like his muscles were removed just as much as his skin pigment was. Was he a snowman or something?

 "You're Captain Izuru Kamukura, right? It was you after all!"  The Captain suddenly smiled, green eyes sparkling bright.   "I was just guessing but it has to be you!"  Izuru had no interest in whatever was happening. He pushed against his sword, throwing the man back. For a moment, it looked like he was about to fall but he quickly caught himself and lowered his sword.

"You're as pretty as a girl," The man's shoulders relaxed. "I'm Nagito Komaeda, and you're as amazing as the stories say." For a second, Izuru didn't know what to respond. What a backhanded compliment calling a man like him a pretty girl. Izuru had long black hair and perfect skin, but unlike all the other pirates across the seas, he was just someone that bothered to take care of himself.  "I came here to kill you," Izuru rose his blade. "You invade my ship in this storm, knowing who I am, and assume I wouldn't-" "Oh yes, Hajime Hinata was your predecessor, you're the most famous pirate in the seas after him!" Nagito grinned ear to ear like a foolish child. Izuru, on the other hand, was not amused in the slightest. Narrowing his sharp scarlet eyes, he ran forward and slashed his sword, only barely missing the foolish man who dared to let his guard down. 

 Nagito's green eyes widened in fear; exactly what the Captain wanted. With another slash, the pale boy ducked and suddenly ran past with an attempt to hurry below deck, but he didn't make it far.   Izuru was fast, incredibly fast, and with a quick swoop, his hand was on Nagito's collar before he pulled the man down with a painful thud and placed his foot on the skinny chest.

  Nagito's eyes lidded as the rain pelted his face, but it appeared like he was watching Izuru as best he could, his hands pulling at the thick black boots as if that would do something about his situation.  "You realize what I'm going to do now, don't you?" The Captain slid the point of the sword beneath Nagito's chin, ever so gently pressing it against his skin.

The man opened his mouth to speak, eyes wide with fear, but as though something suddenly snapped in him, his body relaxed and a short smile plastered upon his face.  "It's only fair," He ushered. "I came here to kill you, but I couldn't do it. It's funny, I've killed many pirates now, but I couldn't bring myself to raise my sword to you."

 Izuru was silent for a long moment before snorting. "I'm soaking wet and pointing my sword at someone that wouldn't even fight back. Pathetic." With that, the Captain sheathed his sword. "The queen hired you of course. You're not even worth my kill. Go quivering back to her."  When Izuru turned his back, Nagito allowed himself to sit up and stare down the powerful pirate. He could be thankful for the storm this once because Izuru Kamukura didn't hear the following words that left Nagito's mouth; "I think I'm in love."

If you've read this far, thank you for giving it a chance. You can continue it on Wattpad or Quotev at ApocalypticAnuyushi or Anuyushi on Ao3.

[druckkugelschreiber]

Finally getting around to the tags I missed during the workshop weekend!

Find the words. Tagged my the lovely @mxkelsifer thanks for the tag!

Search your works for the given words and post the context of what you find! My given words were anger, laugh, shot, and wing!

This is going to be long lol.

Me? Being brief in my writing? I think the fuck not.

Anger

“Hey halfwolf!” someone shoved me from behind and I stumbled. 

With an angry growl I whirled around to face Maria and her two friends. A literal gang. It was like being in highschool all over again, just that humans never dared to get in trouble with changelings. “Didn’t have enough the last time?” I snapped. I never took any shit from people my age. I wouldn’t go toe to toe like this with the older soldiers, but Maria was fucking hot air. 

“Why so tense?” Maria asked with a sneer, “didn’t get a good fuck out of your alpha wolf?” she came closer, “or didn’t she want you in the end after all?”

What? Confusion doused the anger. What the ever loving fuck? “What?”

“Yeah, no wonder she wanted someone as slow as you”, Maria snapped. 

Her eyes fixed on something behind me. The wind blew in the other direction so I didn’t know who or what it was. Maria’s eyes widened in visible fear. 

A presence appeared at my back. Incredibly warm and strong. I knew immediately it was Selenka. Now I could smell her. Her scent wrapped itself around me like your favourite blanket. 

“Leave”, she growled. 

Maria and her friends scattered like leaves in the wind. 

I turned around to Selenka, she was close enough that my shoulders brushed against the front of her body as I turned and it make sparks run up my arm. “I could have handled myself.”

Laugh

I woke to someone wriggling in my arms and it wasn’t Scotch. This was definitely a person sized plushie. I squeezed them tighter and buried my nose in their hair. Grumbling but not forming words. 

Laughter tinkled through the room and the fuzz of sleep in my brain. “Jas.”

Holy fucking shit. My eyes flew open and I found myself cuddled into Nat’s neck. She had turned around some time into the night, properly intertwining our bodies, not even a cat fit between us. 

Blood rushed through my head faster than fire out of a volcano. “Oh my god.”

She grinned at me. “Good morning, sunshine.”

My eyes fluttered shut again and I kind of wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. Her voice raspy from sleep sent me straight into oblivion. 

“Jas”, she whispered and my entire body shuddered. 

“Hmh?”

“I need to get up.”

I let her go. 

Nat rolled out from our cuddle fortress and I listened to her pad to the bathroom. 

I ran a hand down my face and questioned all my life choices. So at what point did I consider asking her out for a date? Was this a date? Was this a friendship thing? Dating women was hard.

Shot

I threw the shirt into the tub behind me and knelt down next to her scanning the bullet wound. “God damn it Ri.” 

“I know”, Lorraine leaned back against the wall, “I’m sorry.” I twitched in surprise when her fingers trailed through my hair, “you deserve better.”

I was pretty sure she wasn’t talking about her showing up to my house wounded and beaten. I looked up at her and saw her walls entirely down and there was true sorrow in them and adoration. My heart ached seeing the play of emotion in her eyes. Which I had once upon a time doubted. The reason why I had broken up. And now she was here and it took her getting shot to show me what I meant to her. 

Wing

I couldn’t help the smile that flickered over my face as she said my name. “I help them out sometimes. And they’re heavier than most in full tack gear so better for training., I'm not letting like the last mission happen again.”

I flashed the left wing, but only slightly. 

Natasha’s eyes still got stuck on it. “You’re fully recovered then?”

I nodded and folded out the wing entirely so she could take a look at the healed primaries and secondaries. There was a thin silver grey line where the flesh had been damaged and the colour faded back into the powerful blue outside of it. I didn’t often get scars from wing injuries, but then again I rarely had wing injuries in general. It was somewhat poetic that Natasha’s rescue had caused that injury. 

Natasha stepped closer and she raised her hand. Her eyes flickered over to me in question. 

She either had read my file or she was just you know the normal kind of person who didn’t touch someone else without consent. I gave her a 'go ahead' nod. 

Her fingers ghosted over the scar. “It scarred.”

I smiled. “Something to remember you by. Not everyone can say they rescued the Black Widow.” 

She snorted. Her fingers prickled on my feathers and I barely resisted the urge to press my wing into the touch. Natasha rested her hand gently on the feathers once and then pulled back. “I’m glad you made a full recovery.”

We do not talk about the fact that finding a oneshot for 'laugh' was the hardest lol.