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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 7 months ago

Text

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #the scarlet witch x fem!reader #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch

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mutualcombat · 3 months ago

Text

oh my god why am i awake? why did i write this?

rating: explicit

pairing: astarion/afab!tav (adriannu :3 )

cw: 18+, parallel masturbation, astarion thinking hes being a dom but is mostly just being a creachurrr. worlds smallest reference to his trauma. also this is unedited if you see mistakes no you fuckin didnt (sorry) (set during act 2 btw)

preview:

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

"Will you, darling?" His ask his soft. Gentle. Demure. His voice melts into a whisper. Breathy. As if speaking the very words bring him overwhelming ecstasy. "Pleasure yourself for me?"

Even in the dark space of his tent, Astarion can see Adriannu's fingers move down her belly in a torturous crawl. He inhales sharply, and licks his lips as her hand sneaks through her pressed thighs. Splitting her fingers into a 'v', she draws them up her folds, then down and up again. Her little sigh of relief makes his ears fidget.

He can smell her arousal now. Taste it in the thick of the air. Hear it in the rushing of her blood. A cornucopia of sensual delight, spread out just for him and only on her offer.

"My, just look at you." Astarion leans back on his palms from where he sits at the edge of the leather trunk. He uncrosses his legs and unlaces his trousers to take his cock in hand, kneading the rosy, wet tip between his thumb and forefinger. He exhales; a reverent sigh. "Let me see what other talents those fingers have. "

Adriannu is panting. She's watching him in that strange, half lidded way, like he's an adversary she's sizing up for a fight.

Even so, she does as he instructs. Nude, on her back with her knees drawn up and pressing flush together -- Astarion nearly preens just watching her gingerly push a finger inside. She makes a strangled noise that sounds a lot like relief.

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

He couldn't stand the hands on him. The grabbing, the pushing. Fabric tearing. Skin bruising. Symptoms of twenty long decades of playing the object.

To actually want for someone that wants him in return... it excites him. Terrifies him. He's elated. Perplexed. Absolutely fucking clueless. He wants to pin Adriannu down and drag his cockhead over her clit until tears of raw pleasure bead at the corners of those strange, canid-like eyes.

The slick sounds of her cunt make his fingers flex, his cock twitch. His shallow breaths are a reflex, not a need. A habit from a time when he was just a man.

He bites the inside of his cheek as she pushes another finger in. Grinds her palm against clit while her fingers pump a slow, agonizing rhythm. Something delicious burns in his gut as he watches her drip over the linens of his bedroll. He knows he'll be burying his nose in it later, whimpering as he desperately knuckles the spot under his sack and rids himself of all the pent up release from this evening and the last.

"Just what are you thinking about over there?" It's Adriannu's amused voice that brings him to. Astarion blinks.

An intrusive, downright salacious thought worms it's way into his head -- tells him how good that smile of hers might look with a set of pristine fangs. A set to match his own.

His mouth goes dry. The hunger in him suddenly burns, and the fire threatens to smoke the beast in him right out into the open.

Across the tent, Adriannu's smile widens as she works herself. She's practically breathless. "I see that face--ah," something she does causes her hips to twitch. "Nasty, desperate creature you are..."

He's on her before she can react. Crawling up her body, cock in hand and practically dripping. His claws catch in the fibers of the bedding before he even realizes they're out.

Planting his knees on either side of her shoulders, Astarion straightens up and, tilting his head back, he gives his shaft a luxuriously slow pump from base to tip. "Maybe I'll show you just how nasty I can really be."

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #astarion x female tav #astarion #and then he leaves a gift on her face the end #shit i wrote #my writing

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fellshish · 11 months ago

Text

What i love about the doctor who come with me we can be celestial scene is that david says it so differently from good omens crowley. There was not a fiber of crowley in that scene even though that would have been understandable because the parallels are right there. He really becomes his characters

#david tennant #doctor who #doctor who spoilers #good omens

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alyrasturnz · 5 months ago

Note

Could you please do a really angsty fic with Matt! Only no cheating - maybe their schedules just aren’t lining up and there’s been distance between them.

I NEED a good angsty argument fic!! Happy ending please 🤞🏼🫶🏼

SAD BEAUTIFUL TRAGIC

❐ summary » as the unyielding hands of time weave their intricate patterns and the miles stretch like an endless horizon, the bond between matt and y/n is strained by the harsh dance of distance and fate. the once vibrant threads of their connection now bear the weight of separation, each moment apart a silent echo of longing.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » arguing (resolved), drinking wine, lowkey toxic!matt

❐ a/n && w/c » writers block has officially hit me • 2.33k

in the dim light of the moon, shadows dance across the room as you toss and turn in the bed you share with matt. frustration builds with each restless movement, until a groan escapes your lips and you sit up abruptly, the weight of the night's turmoil pressing heavily on your shoulders.

sleep eluded you in matt's absence, a fact he was all too aware of. the emptiness on his side of the bed was a silent testament to the void his presence filled, a void that gnawed at your peace and kept you awake through the long, lonely hours of the night.

with deliberate care, you peeled the blanket from your body, the cool air pricking at your skin as you rose. each step was measured as you made your way to the kitchen, the quiet house amplifying the sound of your footfalls. reaching for a glass, you filled it with water, the liquid offering a momentary respite from the turmoil within.

you meandered to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on the dining table where matt’s untouched meal sat, a silent testament to the evening’s unresolved tensions.

you let out a weary sigh, your steps heavy as you approached the dining table. with a sense of resignation, you lifted matt’s plate, the untouched food a poignant reminder of his absence.

you made your way back to the kitchen, each step echoing the solitude of the night. with a gentle tug, you opened the fridge, placing matt’s plate inside with a sense of finality. the door closed with a soft thud, sealing away the remnants of the evening.

matt was seldom home these days, his presence becoming a rare and fleeting occurrence. his schedule moved like a shadow across the sundial, always slipping away just as yours approached.

your own routine, bound by its own relentless march, never seemed to find that elusive moment of alignment with his. thus, you both existed in parallel realms, forever out of sync, like two celestial bodies orbiting the same star but never crossing paths.

you endeavored to quell the rising tide of frustration within you, yet the ache of longing for the love you and matt once shared proved insurmountable. it was as if the echoes of your past affection lingered in the air, haunting the empty spaces and whispering of a time when hearts beat in unison.

the once radiant love you shared, now withered and diminished, seemed to fade away even within the tender grasp of your own loving hands. it was as though the very essence of your affection had been eroded, leaving behind only the fragile remnants of what once flourished so vibrantly.

your dreams would often wander to an alternate existence, a life where matt's presence was unwavering, and his dedication to the relationship was absolute. in this imagined reality, he was fully engaged, his efforts a testament to a love that was nurtured and cherished with every fiber of his being.

every moment was imbued with a sense of completeness, a harmonious dance of two souls intertwined, each step taken with purpose and passion. in this vision, the shadows of doubt and distance were banished, replaced by the warm glow of mutual commitment and an unbreakable bond.

his presence at home was a rarity, and on those infrequent occasions when he did grace the household with his company, every conversation seemed destined to devolve into conflict. it was as though the very air between you was charged with an inevitable tension, transforming even the simplest exchanges into battlegrounds of disunity.

you harbored a fervent wish for a return to the halcyon days of yore, a time when harmony reigned and the simplicity of your connection was unmarred by the complexities that now beset it.

yet, the immutable threads of fate remain beyond your grasp, their intricate design impervious to the desires of mortal hearts.

you sighed heavily, relinquishing the water with a sense of resignation. your hand reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, the cool touch of its stem a stark contrast to your inner turmoil. with a sense of urgency, you retrieved a bottle of wine, the liquid cascading into the glass as if it could drown the weight of your thoughts.

you ran a hand through your hair, each strand slipping through your fingers as if seeking escape from the turmoil within. tears welled in your eyes, glistening with the weight of unspoken sorrow. with a swift, almost frantic motion, you raised the glass to your lips, downing the wine as though its liquid fire could quell the tempest raging in your soul.

you yearned for an escape, a sanctuary that matt once effortlessly provided, his presence a refuge from the relentless storm of reality.

the wine flooded your senses in a hazy, euphoric embrace, yet the fleeting relief proved insufficient to numb your awareness. tears streamed down your face, each droplet a testament to the relentless surge of emotions that the wine could not quell.

you angrily set the wine glass down, the forceful motion resonating with your inner turmoil. soft sobs escaped your lips, their intensity so profound that they drowned out the subtle creak of the front door opening.

matt hastily discarded his belongings, the door closing with a muted thud behind him, as he sprinted towards you with a sense of urgency.

"hey, hey, hey," he quickly murmured, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped your face, his touch both urgent and tender. he gently guided your gaze to meet his, his eyes searching yours with deep concern. "whats wrong, baby?” he cooed softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within you, as your eyebrows furrowed and tears continued to cascade down your cheeks.

you harshly extricated yourself from matt's grasp, your sudden movement causing him to stumble back slightly, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion at your unexpected behavior.

“dont be like that” you sobbed uncontrollably, your body trembling with each gasp for breath, while matt furrowed his eyebrows deeply, his face etched with a blend of concern and helplessness.

"like what?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper that hung in the air. he stepped towards you with tentative caution, but you instinctively stepped back, the distance between you both sending metaphorical bullets right through matt's heart, each step a painful reminder of the growing chasm.

"you never get it, do you, matt? every time i need you, you're always somewhere else, doing something else. your schedule never aligns with mine, and i'm left here, waiting, always waiting." you retort, your voice cracking as tears continue to stream down your face.

"it's not like i don't try, you know. i have commitments, responsibilities. it's not like i can just drop everything at a moment's notice." matt responds with a gentle tone, yet there's an unmistakable sternness woven into his words.

"but that's the problem, isn't it? i'm never a priority. it's always work, or friends, or something else. i'm tired of feeling like an afterthought." you retort with a sharp, incisive response

frustration begins to seep through matt’s veins, coursing like a slow-burning poison, each pulse intensifying the storm brewing within him. “that's not fair. you know i care about you. but life isn't that simple. i can't just be there all the time." he intones, his voice gradually ascending in volume

"then what do you expect me to do? just sit here and accept that i'll always come second? you don't understand how much it hurts." you murmur, your voice diminishing in volume with each word you articulate

"and you think it doesn't hurt me too? i'm trying my best, but it's never enough for you. i'm just as frustrated as you are." he exclaims sharply, his voice crescendoing with mounting frustration, each word laden with palpable exasperation

"well, maybe your best isn't good enough. maybe we're just fooling ourselves thinking this can work when it clearly can't." you shake your head slowly, your arms crossing resolutely over your chest

"so what, you want to give up? just throw everything away because it's hard? that's not how relationships work." he intones, his voice gradually diminishing to a softer timbre

"no, matt, that's not what i want. i want you to fight for us, to make an effort. but it feels like i'm the only one fighting here." you utter, your voice steeped in unadulterated desperation

"i am fighting, but it's like you don't see it. every compromise, every sacrifice, it's for us. but you only see what i'm not doing." he articulates, his voice a tapestry woven with threads of desperation and frustration, each word a testament to his inner turmoil.

"because what you're not doing is what's breaking us apart. i need you, and you're never there. it's like i'm invisible." you utter a plaintive cry, a haunting echo of raw emotion reverberating through the silence.

"you're not invisible. i see you, i hear you. but it's like we're speaking different languages. i don't know how to fix this." he murmurs in a tone laden with the weight of defeat.

"maybe there's nothing to fix. maybe we're just too different, too out of sync. maybe this is the end." you shake your head, a silent gesture imbued with layers of unspoken resignation and quiet dissent.

"i don't want it to be the end. but i don't know how to make you see that i'm trying. i don't know how to make this right." he implores with a voice tinged with the raw edges of desperation.

"maybe it's too late for that. maybe we've already lost each other in the space between our lives." you murmur softly, your words a gentle whisper that barely disturbs the air.

as the palpable tension thickens the very air around you, matt steps closer, his eyes a tumultuous sea of emotions, desperately seeking a glimmer of reconciliation in yours. each step he takes is laden with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts.

he leans in, his intent clear as he attempts to bridge the vast chasm that has grown between you with a kiss, a gesture meant to mend what is broken. but in that very moment, you pull back sharply, your movements swift and decisive, as a tempest of fury ignites within your eyes, a blazing inferno that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

"don't try to kiss me just to fix it! can't you just try to listen for once?" your voice cracks with the weight of unspoken pain. "you think a kiss will make everything better, but it won't. not this time."

matt's frustration flares, his face a mask of confusion and hurt. "i'm trying, but you keep pushing me away. what do you want from me?"

"i want you to hear me, matt! really hear me. not just with your ears, but with your heart. i'm tired of feeling like my words are falling on deaf ears." you speak in a voice thick with frustration, your words trembling as tears cascade down your face, each droplet a testament to the emotional tempest raging within.

"i do hear you," he insists, but the words resonate with a hollow timbre, echoing emptily in the cavernous silence between you, devoid of the conviction they once held.

"no, you don't. if you did, you wouldn't be trying to fix things with a kiss. you'd be trying to understand why i'm so upset in the first place." you declare vehemently, storming out of the kitchen with a tempestuous energy, striding purposefully into your bedroom, where the door slams shut with a resounding finality.

the ensuing silence is deafening, an abyss of stillness that stretches infinitely, creating a chasm that appears insurmountable.

»--•--«

as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, matt sits at the foot of the bed, his hair disheveled and his eyes shadowed with the weight of a sleepless night. his voice, barely more than a whisper, breaks the silence, "i'm sorry," he murmurs, the words laden with the exhaustion and regret that have etched themselves into his features.

“you didnt sleep” you murmur softly, your voice barely a whisper as you gradually shift to an upright position, the weight of your words hanging delicately in the air.

he disregards your assertion, proceeding to articulate every sentiment that had been lingering within him. “i promise to do better," he continues, his voice trembling slightly. "i'll try to be around more often, no matter how packed my schedule gets. you deserve more than this."

you look at him, your eyes softening despite the hurt. "matt, it's not just about being here physically. i need you to be present, to really be here with me."

he nods, swallowing hard. "i know, and i will be. i'll make more time for us, for you. i don't want to lose what we have. you're everything to me."

your voice wavers, "i just... i need to feel like i'm a priority, not an afterthought. i need to know that you care enough to make the effort."

matt reaches out, taking your hand in his. "you are my priority. i care more than words can say. i know i've been distant, caught up in work and everything else, but that's going to change. i'll make sure of it. we'll find time for us, even if it means rearranging everything."

you squeeze his hand, a small tear escaping down your cheek. "i want to believe you, matt. i really do. but it's been so hard."

he gently wipes the tear away, his touch tender. "i understand. and i'll prove it to you, every single day. we'll rebuild this, stronger than before. i love you, and i'm not going to let anything come between us again."

you nod slowly, a glimmer of hope returning to your eyes. "okay, matt. let's try. but it has to be both of us, together."

he smiles faintly, relief washing over him. "together. always."

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raisedbythetv89 · 6 months ago

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THE PARALLELS THAT MAKE ME SOB they are mirrors of each other, spike is buffy's shadow self. Our shadow selves are all the things we're ashamed of, our deepest pain we bury away, the things society conditions us to hate & to hide, repressed desires & wants. Healing journeys always involve radical acceptance & the healing/integration of the shadow self with the light so that the two halves can exist in harmony. In greek mythology the process called shadow work where you delve into your shadow in order to heal is usually represented by journeying to the underworld.

Buffy starts s6 underground and when she claws herself out despite physically being above ground, sunnydale is now hell to her. Life is hell to her. S6 is Buffy fighting against doing shadow work with everything she's got while being trapped in her own personal hell & that is represented in how much she fights the pull she feels to spike. This time is about her shadow self so she feels the most at ease when she's with him while also fighting the truth of that reality with every fiber of her being because she's terrified. She can't go back to who she was before but she keeps trying and fighting against the new version of herself she's being forced to become.

The season ends with her again emerging from underground but this time with Dawn & acceptance about her new life path she is now on. She no longer wishes she was dead. She no longer is fighting the call to heal her shadow self. She's accepted this next phase of her life which involves no longer keeping the slayer & the girl separate when she realizes she needs to teach dawn & show her the world but also with the return of Spike in s7.

Buffy healing, protecting and defending Spike is healing HERSELF because he IS her (Buffy stabbing faith, another shadow self, for angel was representing how much pain and self harm Buffy was willing to put herself through to be with him) so as Buffy's shadow, Spike, cared for her in s6, she cares for her shadow in return in s7 and the process is incredibly painful for both of them while also being insanely transformative and healing and it ends w/ the two halves integrating (their clasped hands lighting in fire) & then Buffy is freed from Sunnydale aka the underworld

#that’s it for me actually!#walking into traffic now!#spuffy #spuffy parallels #spuffy season 6 #spuffy season 7 #spuffy meta #meta #btvs meta #shadow work #shadow self

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myriad-rainbows · 8 days ago

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[image: the back of a stranded colorwork knitting project in brown, yellow, and light blue. End I.D.]

look at my floats boy

#wow yes LOOK at those floats!#behold the evenness of the tension #and what an ideal amount of tension it is; not pulling on the fabric nor trying to escape it #and how parallel (or maybe I should say concentric) they are rather than having wonky angles #(that means the yarns aren't twisted around each other willy-nilly #which is nice while you're knitting because it means you only have to compensate for twist once a round)#truly this is excellent float management. 10/10 no notes.#knitting #fiber crafts

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iplaywithstring · 2 months ago

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Post about sock yarn got me thinking about yarn physics (doesn't everyone get excited over yarn science?)

Like most spinners, when I started to spin, I made some pretty serviceable rope - so much twist in spots that it coiled up like a corkscrew before being wound on the bottom. That is what I would consider too much twist - once it's coiled like that, it's hard to manage. Unless of course, that's what you're going for - the joy of spinning is you can get the yarn you want!

But in general, high twist vs. low twist is a preference, and a whole spectrum of good yarns exists between "so much twist it's rough and unpleasant" and "so little twist it falls apart".

I figured some visuals about the difference between high twist and low twist might be useful.

I like high twist yarn, and I spin, so I have examples. This is my favourite type of yarn to spin and to work with.

I also spin low- twist yarns, but not as often. Usually when at a retreat or wanting a quicker project - lower twist happens faster (except when you spin low twist lace weight, that still takes forever....)

I was able to find three chain plied yarns to compare - since the post that got me thinking about this was talking about chain plied yarn, these were fitting. Two of them are about the same wight (worstedish?). Both are nice and squishy and feel good, but the look is very different.

Squishy high twist

Squishy low twist.

One thing to note is that while the angle of the plies is very different, if you zoom in, the actual fibers that make each ply are basically parallel within the plied yarn - that means the yarns are balanced. The twist in the singles is matched by the twist in the ply.

And some high twist sock yarn (since that was the original topic)

(it looks like two ply, I blame the flash, I even got it back out to double check, it is chain plied)

And some low twist two ply to compare

This was yarn for a lace sweater, it's merino and silk and I spun 250g of it. Lace is one place where I prefer lower twist (it makes for a softer overall look, but higher twist makes stitch definition pop!)

Again, the individual fibers are parallel, the yarn is balanced. But what if it wasn't?

One ply high twist, one low twist (full disclosure - this wasn't intentional, I changed the whorl between bobbins and didn't realize it until I started plying....oops).

you can see with this yarn, the tighter spun ply is wrapping around the lighter spun ply, giving it a wrapped look. This yarn isn't balanced - if I hang it, there's a twist in the skein (the individual fibers in the tighter ply are angled, not parallel in the yarn).

As I said at the beginning - the beauty of spinning is making the yarn you like best. Playing around with how must twist is a fun way to understand what you like to spin and to work with.

#this is my life #in which i ramble #hand spinning #spinning technique #yarn #wool #my wpi gauge is a tardis #some of this pictures suck I'm sorry #I'm a textile person not a pictures person

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blindmagdalena · 2 months ago

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Hello!

Wonderful "Eat Your Ego, Honey" got me wondering:

what would happen if Homelander was interested in a stripper?

She's known for her dancing and, he sensed, her secret superpower/-s. Would he be furious that a girl dances in front of some "dirty" men? Would he torture her for being afraid of him? Would he be uncomfortable with the smell of her sweaty body?

I literally see scene of meeting: she's dancing to gothic metal in the dim lights of the room; Homelander is freaking out, jealous and horny (because he feels like she's having a blast dancing).

Thanks for your fanfics, I adore it! Because of your headcanons I fell in love with Homelander and decided to watch the series...

anon. the absolute RABBIT HOLE you sent me spiraling down with this ask is genuinely insane. firstly tho, thank you!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work and have been inspired to watch the show! i hope you love it as much as i did.

okay, now, onto the meat of this. i can't imagine Homelander ever being in a strip club, but i absolutely can see Vought having a dancer supe who performs at shows! and then i started thinking about what kind of powers she might have.

(this got long. strap in.)

and okay. bear with me here. i have the FAINTEST memory of a kids show (something like goosebumps or are you afraid of the dark) where they told a monkey-paw type story of a girl who wished that everyone would like/love her. and of course this turned out to be a fucking nightmare. people were obsessed with her automatically to a scary degree and she was eventually swarmed and maybe killed by the aggression of the adoring crowd? i don't remember.

but that made me think about her power being something of that nature. a chemical that compels people to adore her. when she sweats, and that sweat evaporates off of her skin, it fills the air people in the vicinity inhale it. it's what makes her dances so incredibly popular! but too much exposure to her powers can cause, uh... scary side effects in people. make them deranged. obsessive.

she hates it. it's destroyed all the relationships in her life. it's pretty much inevitable that she'll eventually effect the people around her, and it either freaks them out to the point they break contact with her or creates a completely inauthentic infatuation with her. it's impossible for her to know if anyone actually likes her, or if they're just under the influence of her powers.

she, like Homelander, would know what it's like to be "loved" in the most hollow sense of the word.

how cut to Homelander who's present at one of these shows where she's dancing and oh my god something smells incredible. downright intoxicating. it calls to every fiber of his being and he follows the scent of it until he's close enough to the stage, and it shocks him to his core to realize it's a person.

except! Homelander is so fucking chock full of V himself that he's not wholly affected by her... idk, pheromones? whatever you want to call her aura of effect. but he IS intrigued by it. by her. by the way her body moves and how she seems to have cast a SPELL on the entire audience.

he expects he'll be able to get a chance to speak with her after the performance, but bafflingly, she gets the FUCK outta there as soon as her set is done. naturally he has to follow!!!!

and okay i just had so many ideas for this! i even thought of One Single Friend she has who's a fellow supe and, due to his own powers, he's immune to her effect. i haven't figured out how exactly. maybe he doesn't breathe the way normal humans do. or he has some kind of innate filtration that makes him immune to gasses and things. his supe name is something stupid like... The Filtrator.

speaking of which her supe name would probably be like. Enchantress. something that alludes to the charming effect she has. but her friend knows how her powers work and he playfully calls her The Perspiren. perspiring siren. 😭😂

anyways i think they could have a lot of really interesting parallels! and of course Homelander would be intensely possessive of her, but he's also a HUGE exhibitionist and i think he would get off on knowing how badly everyone wants someone that's his.

he wouldn't ever physically hurt/torture her, but he would of course become violent if his possession of her were challenged or threatened in any way. if anyone touched what's his, or presumed they could take her. anyone she showed interest in would definitely wind up dead.

can you tell that i thought WAY too hard about this.

idk if i would make this an oc or a reader fic. i feel like this could definitely work for my first proper supe!reader fic! it's got a ton of potential. thanks so much for sending this!

#ask and you shall receive #darling anon #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x supe!reader #homelander headcanons #sorry i spent this whole ask just spitballing ideas but #i'm sooo into this

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mothlady-garden · 1 month ago

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My two cents about the anatomy of the Angel Arm & some of the Gate

Last update: 01st November

Spoilers for basically the whole story

• Core starts to form in the Ulna

• The core is formed first in the ulna, of independents through either physical contact with a trigger or a triggering biochemistry that is found in stressfully situations, if willingy or not.

can also be triggered though Plant-Song (presence of Knives in a close distence in JuLai)

Hardening of the skin and partial melting and with clothing (assimilation of matter into body)

Prominent Plant markings appear on the whole area

• Tissue growth around the core follows this

• Groth before Structure

• Solid and dense at first

• Changes from solid to more feathery

• Winglets develop, which will provide stabilizers/visor

dominant side seems to differ from individual to individual

Arm Design

• 4 Structural Supports:

• 2 act like heart muscles, which can achieve contractions and expansions -that's propaply whats been his lower arm

2 maybe be the same but didn't need to spread

massive core

• 2 lower growths for stabilization to better shoot at city's (fuck Knives)

• 2 floating rings-one at the very front and one at the tail of the Arm while charging (most likely for energy concentration and To polarize the energy in one direction

• 4 Faces Encased in Forearm

• Depict 2 men, 1 woman, and 1 angel?

• Wing-like Structure, Bat and dragonfly wing crossed

• Probably finger bones transformed to extend as wings from the arm

Muzzle Design

• The tip has parallel striped bands evoking muscle fibers or connective tissue for stability

• Feathers form at the end, which may subconsciously formed for resisting maximum recoil and hurting of Knives

Smaller "Backfire-prison-break" version

• Later in the manga, a small and compact version of the Angel Arm is used.

• No secondary sexual characteristics appear.

growth of another 4 faces at the elbow part, they appear more deformed

• New growths act as counterweights for upper and lower parts.

• Hand behaves like an end of the arm with plates of bone that help to control the release of energy.

• Golden Angle Alignment, its design probably has the Golden Angle, about 137.5°, which may help reach energy and structural optimisation

Symbolism of the four faces and different genders

•There are four faces: two? men, one woman, and one angel. This could be the manifestations of humanity in their various facets, such as strength, compassion (Rem) the struggle between human and godhood

• Perhaps the inlayed male and female figures are indicative of the balance between masculine and feminine character traits of him

Vashs first Angel Arm

realease seems to aktivate a part of thier brain that is responsible for pleasure, adds to the impression that the Fith Moon Incident was way worse than on first sight

The structure is less smooth, which may be due to the missing inexperience with the newly developed body part. Similar to certain animals, whose bone surfaces appear blocky or rough��such as in birds or dinosaurs, where these structures serve as anchors for tendons, muscles, or scales—the rough texture here could also be the result of incomplete adaptation or development bc of the inecpirience with his power

more feathery than later apprances

very small core with a single little wing on the (later would have grown) angel part

feathers spread on arm to upper torso

Additionally up to 2m (6.5 feet) long feathers grow out of right shoulder

Small faces grow on the upper arm above the core without any distinguishable features

Shoulder feathers will grow up to 5m (16ft)

Feathers seem to be more like Primaries (more for ranged actions like protecting or maybe fleeing)

Further characteristics of his arm in the trance like state and a few ramblings about Vashs phycology

possibly a mental hellscape when using the gate connected to one's mind

No Plant-Marks appear

matter seem to be more flesh-like than the other versions

Self image displays several eyes mouths and disformed bodyparts

Doesn't seem to follow a order, spreads like a Tree into more and more parts

human and snake like with tongues and even carnies

similar are also apperand in Knives pardon

10+ tentacle like growths at the former hand part

~15 deformed finger like growths

the deformed faces seem to be in pain from his selfharm -same nerves system

he tried to scratch his arm of at the schoulder area (where a emmense scar-cut in his skin and muscle is)

Survivor's guilt in relation to traumatic experiences or PTSD will, more than likely, involve self-image at its core. In having survived a tragedy, he is overcome with an immense amount of responsibility and guilt for having lived while others have died. More often than not, this is attached to the guilt associated with being unworthy of having survived, leading to feelings of low self-worth (for example jumping into line of fire or not healing his scars if subconsciously or not) and or blame being placed upon one's self. This may result in distortion of their self-concept and in the feeling of being undeserving of happiness or unable to move further in life.

PTSD can exacerbate this guilt through intrusive memories, flashbacks, and hyperarousal, whereby the survivor is pressed to continually relive the event in question. This inability to escape such mental relapses can further promote feelings of helplessness that will degrade one's self-esteem and reinforce negative self-judgments. The latter, in turn, can promote further avoidance behaviors, such as dissociation or emotional numbing, possibly counterproductive for trauma processing and creating a self-sustaining cycle of repression.

Another coping mechanism we see, is repression this can even more strongly compound the problem. By excluding painful memories or emotions from consciousness, survivors skip confrontation with guilt or trauma in a straightforward way. Yet, this usually leads to internal conflict because the unresolved feelings of the survivors continue to impress their subconscious, confusing them, self-doubting, and fragmenting their identities. The usually resultant picture is that of a deformed negative self-image, alienated from one's real self.

Ultimately, his past actions and unresolved trauma may trap him in a cycle of guilt, anger, and self-hate. This inner conflict, combined with toxic relationship with his brother, could leave him emotionally isolated, struggling to reconcile the good he tries to show with the darker parts of his past, unable to find peace with himself or others.

Also in the Book of Revelation, Revelation 13:1 is a kinda similar thing discriped: “And I saw a beast rising out of the sea, with ten horns and seven heads, with ten diadems on its horns and blasphemous names on its heads.” (ESV)

Vashs Gate in the elevator-arc

Clothing seem to intigrate itself into the skin

Carnies growing

iris and pupil seem to dissappear

components of the eye may have regressed to better adapt to the environment of his sisters

a huge number of featers maybe bc not controlled use of his gate

a wide variety of feathers from small to Primaries like, partly because Merly and his body needed protection?

power to connect to one's mind much like the feathers of his dying sisters

Perhaps bc of a special frecency plus some kind of Mykorrhiza so transfer signals interspecies

Primary Wing

the growth of a wing seems to be triggered by a flee instinkt (in Vashs case)

4 sections, one extra on the back for horizontal range -from fused together limbs?

Vash Angel wing in the end and defence mechanism of the Gate

2,5 meters long, bird like minus the Coracoid

Sooo he's got feathers that protect him like I'm my food, as seen right after the elevator-arc

Speed of his Gate 1

If a shot’s fired at you from 4 meters away, you’ve got almost no time to react. Bullets typically travel at speeds ranging from about 300 to 1,200 meters per second, depending on the type of gun and ammo. At 4 meters, that bullet’s gonna hit you in a blink—literally. For a rough estimate, if the bullet’s speed is, say, 340 meters per second (a typical handgun speed), it would cover 4 meters in roughly 0.012 seconds. A blink of an eye takes about 100-150 milliseconds. So yeah, by the time a human even think of moving, that bullet’s would have already hit its mark.

Speed of his Gate 2

Extreme elegance is key to dodge bullets (as seen in the Legato fight)

At this range roughly of 3 meters, a bullet traveling at 800 to 1,000 meters per second is gonna reach you in about 0.003 to 0.004 seconds. That’s less than the blink of an eye, hell, even thinking about dodging would take longer than that.

With multiple angles and those rounds coming at you that fast, you’d basically need to start dodging before they even fired. We’re talking some ultra-instinct, superhuman reflexes here.

Trigun: We have some of the most powerful characters in seinen hehe

Power of Vashs Gate-Bullets

Trimax Vol 12, Chapter 08: Lights

the shots seem to inplode like a black hole

Anti matter bullets explanation (As seen in the battle against the Arc-Collective)

If a single shot could destroy 7% of the Northern Hemisphere of a habitable planet, we are dealing with a weapon of cosmic-scale power. The energy released in such a shot would far exceed any terrestrial weapon, venturing into the realm of exotic physics. To put it into perspective, to annihilate an area of around 14 million square kilometers, the energy output would need to be on the order of 10^24 to 10^27 joules, which rivals phenomena like gamma-ray bursts or the Sun’s total output over several hours.

The cartridge contains exotic matter capable of distorting space-time enough to form a micro black hole. This might involve the use of antimatter or even negative mass to reach the required density and energy concentration. By collapsing the mass-energy within the cartridge through an exotic quantum process, a micro black hole emerges, which can either evaporate through Hawking radiation or expand, depending on the stabilization mechanics used. Luckily for them he's made them evaporate after a second.

To control and limit the effects of the micro black hole, the bullet employs gravitational confinement techniques or manages Hawking radiation to ensure the black hole persists for just long enough to cause catastrophic damage. It uses quantum field manipulation to create a gravitational gradient, holding the black hole in a state of quasi-stability before allowing it to collapse in a burst of energy.

The transfer of matter across dimensions occurs through a temporary connection to higher-dimensional space, such as in brane cosmology theories, where our 3D universe interacts with a higher-dimensional structure. When matter is drawn into another dimension, a transient wormhole or topological defect, like a cosmic string, forms, allowing matter to be siphoned off.

This process resembles Kaluza-Klein theory, where compactified extra dimensions permit the energy to escape from our familiar three-dimensional space-time into the higher-dimensional realm. It’s as if the explosion opens a drain that lets matter flow out of thier universe, erasing the affected area from existence.

Imagine it as pulling the plug on a bathtub; the water (representing matter) rapidly drains into an unseen reservoir (the higher dimension), leaving behind a chaotic disturbance on the surface (massive explosion and gravitational disruptions). It doesn’t just destroy; it erases a portion of space-time itself.

Explanation part 2

If he limits a shot to a maximum diameter of 50 cm and a duration of 1 second, while ensuring that it does not cause terraforming-scale damage, then we’re dealing with some extreme physics constraints.

Energy Compression and Containment

To achieve such massive destructive power within a confined space of max 50 cm, the energy would need to be incredibly dense and compressed, using some form of exotic energy state or quantum-scale manipulation. We might think of a process similar to creating a quark-gluon plasma, where matter is compressed to such high densities that conventional atomic structures no longer exist. This would allow for an incredibly high energy concentration without needing a massive physical size.

Control Over the Shockwave

To prevent the shot from causing terraforming-level damage, the shockwave dynamics would have to be controlled precisely. This could involve using fields or containment mechanisms that limit the expansion of the blast wave to a very small effective radius, absorbing or dispersing the energy beyond that point.

For example, a localized gravitational field could be used to constrain the energy within the 50 cm radius, causing the shockwave to rapidly lose intensity beyond that point. This would result in a highly concentrated but short-lived explosion, powerful enough to cause intense localized destruction without spreading its effects over a larger area.

Duration and Rapid Energy Dissipation

With a duration of only roughly 1 second, the energy release would need to be extremely quick and then dissipate almost immediately. One way to achieve this could be by utilizing a form of Hawking radiation or controlled quantum tunneling, allowing the energy to decay rapidly into other forms of radiation or be siphoned off into a higher-dimensional space right after reaching its peak.

This approach would make the explosion appear like a brief, intense flash of destruction, where the peak intensity lasts less than a second, followed by rapid normalization of the local environment. There would still be a violent local effect, but it would be contained to prevent any significant alterations to the landscape.

Think of it as a controlled fusion explosion, where the fusion reaction is ignited but then immediately halted by a containment field, causing the released energy to dissipate almost as soon as it appears. It would be like a microburst of a star’s energy, contained and then extinguished just before it gets out of control.

The shot would feel like a brief, intense thud, with a powerful but contained shockwave that wouldn’t extend far beyond the immediate vicinity, preventing large-scale geological or atmospheric effects. It would still be lethal within its limited range but without causing collateral damage on a world ending scale.

To be added:

Knives Angel Arm and Gate

possess more animal like traits

Pant markings seem to appear more regulary maybe a matter of practice to hide them

height 50 meters?

length to the space ships round about 311 miles (500km)

theory about his worp usage of the higher dimension

he's creating a cut in the reality goes into the higher dimension and reappears at a different place propably with exotic matter (warping space-time)

Characteristics of his wing

struckture reflects his gate (what even is is purpose as independent beside his twin)

Phycological factor

does he has the need to harm humans trough his true nature

The Ark-Collective

First sister to be absorbed seems to trigger growth of multible tumors, some kind of autoimmune response

at first 2 wings, they possess more bones

It has its own gravity field

The Ark is organic in composition and, in structure, would be much like a biological entity that achieves buoyancy, from certain deep-sea life forms to large organisms with gas-filled cavities. In its advanced organic material, there is a percentage of gas pockets or low-density compounds, enabling it to stay aloft in a dense atmosphere. The organic superconducting materials of the combined might also serve to create strong magnetic fields upon activation. This highly developed organic structure creates these fields for the lifting effect on objects in a certain radius. It apparently has the ability to emit or manipulate antigravitons-particles that act against gravity-and such an ability would reduce gravitational pull on everything in a localized area. In creating a small field around itself, it is essentially working against or neutralizing gravity. The Ark also has the possibility of causing local distortions in gravitational fields, creating a sort of "bubble" that decreases the pulling power of gravity on objects around it, hence allowing it to levitate them. In such a case, the bio-machinery of this organism would need high energy density structures, such as muscle fibers, that store energy and afterward release it. Their cells would need organelles with very high output energy, which would be able to store energy and afterwards release it to build force or fields. These cells function like biological equivalents of batteries or power cells, generating very powerful bioelectric fields. The Collective amplifies bioelectric potentials to considerable magnitudes to generate site-specific magnetic fields, or any other force-related phenomena that are powerful enough to levitate masses. In its domain of quantum biology, the entity uses quantum effects for levitation or lifting. It taps and channels energy with high efficiency through processes somewhat related to quantum coherence in photosynthesis. Presumably, this biological use of quantum interaction enables the it to achieve the very fine control over force fields and manipulate gravitational pull on a quantum scale, thus enabling the lifting forces.

lower part resembles a flower🌺

So my theory is that Vashs power is to delete/absorb/take matter into the higher dimension and Knives is to add/give materia into the lower dimension.

Feel free to comment your own thoughts.

Also, I was listening to that while making this🔥:

Have a good day

#trigun #trigun spoilers #trigun manga #will edit #trigunbookclub #the brain is soupy #trigun talk #trigun plants #trigun maximum #manga rereading #vash the stampede #Trigun analysis #sorry for my typos #yeah body horror let's goooo #Spotify #analysing the shit out of this hehe #don't worry about it #Klobürstenkopf and his evil twin hundert Löffel #The new semester started so I will slow down with the updates

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