#surrender i fear very few understood but i did

[surrenderonvinyl]

i owe so much to maggie rogers’ music she somehow always makes the album i need to hear exactly when i need to hear it

[charlotteking23]

Chasing Shadows - MV1/33

max verstappen x reader

summary: In honor of October 'spooky season', I decided to have a yandere Max as ghostface the killer x reader.

In the quiet town of Zandvoort, where the air hummed with the thrill of motorsport, an unsettling presence lurked beneath the surface.

The local racing community admired Max Verstappen, their thrilling champion on the track, but there was a darker side that few understood—a side that stirred from the shadows at night, donning the infamous Ghostface mask to stalk the unsuspecting. You had been a dedicated fan, following Max’s career, attending races, and cheering him on with an unwavering passion.

Little did you know, that passion had attracted the attention of someone more sinister.

One fateful evening, after a particularly electrifying race, you found yourself alone in the parking lot, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, when you felt the chilling sensation of being watched. Max—Ghostface—observed from afar, his dark figure blending into the night, relishing the thrill of the hunt.

He had a singular obsession, an urge to cleanse those who dared to encroach upon what he believed was his.

Each unwanted admirer, each close friend, was a threat to your safety, and he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate them one by one. As days turned into nights, you noticed friends disappearing, shadowy figures in the distance, and the thrilling joy of racing was replaced with a haunting fear.

Desperate for safety, you began to retreat, isolating yourself from everyone but your lingering thoughts of Max.

That duality—the beloved driver and the ghost who haunted your nights—consumed your mind. One evening, as a storm raged outside, your phone buzzed with a message from Max.

"Meet me at the old racetrack."

Heart racing, you knew it was a risk, but something inside you yearned for confrontation��to understand the madness behind his mask. Arriving at the abandoned track, the wind howled ominously, and the air crackled with tension.

“You came,” he said, stepping into view, his face covered in shadows yet unmistakably him.

The thrill of seeing him sent chills down your spine, blurring the lines between fear and excitement.

“I had to warn you; they’re not safe. Anyone who gets too close…” Before he could finish, a terrifying scream erupted from the woods behind you.

They’d come searching for you—your friends, oblivious to the danger lurking in every corner.

But Max was quick, and with a swift, calculated grace, he darted into the darkness, leaving a trail of chaos behind him. You couldn’t deny the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that moment, seeing him unleash his rage against those who threatened you, a forbidden thrill ignited a spark within.

When he returned, the mask partially lifted, you could see the fire in his eyes—the deep desire to protect you, even if it meant becoming the very monster you feared. “Run with me, or I can make it so they never come back,” he whispered, and in that heartbeat, your fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire for the man behind the mask.

“Just you and me, forever.” The tension thickened as you leaned closer, the electric energy between you palpable.

With a soft tug, Max pulled you against him, and as the storm raged around you, the chaos outside echoed the turmoil in your hearts.

Your lips met, and the touch ignited a feverish passion that had been building through every encounter with danger and desire. In the shadow of the abandoned racetrack, with Ghostface looming like a dark protector, you surrendered to your wildest fantasies—lost in a desperate embrace as the night whispered stories of thrill and peril.

Together, you danced on the edge of darkness, breathing life into a love that thrived against the backdrop of fear and chaos—a love where danger was not only thrilling but intoxicating. As the dawn approached, the headlines would tell of another tragedy in Zandvoort. But for you, this new chapter was just beginning, and with Max Verstappen—your dark hero—you would embrace whatever shadows came your way.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

connie vs catra: falling in love with a hero

so one thing in SPOP that reminded me of SU is when Catra gets upset and angry at Adora for needing to sacrifice herself in order to save the world. something very similar to this happens in SU where Connie gets upset at Steven for turning himself in to the Diamonds, so that he can prevent everyone else from getting hurt.

and i wanted to compare these two scenarios and talk about why this kind of conflict worked with connverse, but not c//a.

1. Past Relationship And Hypocrisy

Connie and Steven had a healthy relationship prior to this incident. Connie was always supportive of Steven and quite honestly, was one of the very few people who had no expectations for him based on his mother.

the Crystal Gems constantly talked about Rose and knowingly or unknowingly put pressure on Steven to live up to her image. Greg often mentioned Rose too, and while he may not have intended to make Steven feel pressured, that was the outcome.

Connie, on the other hand, saw Steven for who he was - a 14 year old kid who had way too many expectations to live up to. she served as Steven's rock and his connection to human life, letting him goof off and relax like he should. she listened to him when he was feeling troubled, and assured him that she would always be there to support him. Connie made Steven feel loved and understood.

they also made a promise to always fight together after Pearl tries to pressure Connie into sacrificing herself for Steven. Steven is clearly uncomfortable with this and doesn't want Connie to act like his bodyguard and put herself in danger.

so it makes complete sense that Connie felt hurt and betrayed when Steven decided to do exactly that and sacrifice himself to save her and the rest of beach city. it makes sense that Connie was worried sick about Steven after he surrendered himself.

Connie feeling upset about this situation makes sense because she actually cares about Steven. she always has.

meanwhile Catra constantly used Adora's fears and insecurities against her, even when they were on the same side and especially when they were enemies. Catra made Adora feel worthless for existing, she made Adora feel like a failure.

Catra actively and knowingly contributed to Adora's self-sacrificial complex and her habit of putting everyone else's safety above her own. and then she's surprised that Adora wants to sacrifice herself to save the world. wow. who would have thunk it?

Catra has absolutely no right to act like she cares about Adora after all this. and she certainly has no right to get mad at Adora for doing something Catra herself conditioned her to do.

it makes no sense especially because the show acts like the previous seasons never happened. neither Catra nor Adora nor anyone else brings up the fact that Catra was one of the main contributors to Adora's hero complex and her insecurities. the show just glosses over that and acts like Catra being upset about all this is tragic and sympathetic.

2. Expressing Anger In A Healthy Manner

Connie is upset but she communicates her feelings to Steven in a calm manner. she tells him that what he did hurt her feelings. she is obviously angry and upset, but she's also visibly trying to keep it together and not let her anger get the best of her.

i also think that Steven kinda messed up when he replies to Connie's "i'm hurt" with "no you're not". he decided that as long as no one was physically hurt, there was no problem. he didn't stop to think about how this might have affected Connie emotionally. (i'm not hating on Steven btw, he was in a pretty tough situation himself and was just happy that everyone was safe and alive. this is a situation where both of them were in the right and it was just a complicated issue to navigate.)

basically, Connie deals with this situation more maturely than some adults might have. she felt hurt and betrayed, but she didn't use that as an excuse to hurt Steven. she said what she wanted to say and then she left to give her mind some clarity.

also she does this AFTER Steven returns home safely.

Catra, on the other hand?

she screams at Adora, accuses Adora of picking favorites and pushes her to the ground. Catra is supposedly in her 20s at this point, and she still hasn't learned to express her anger in a healthy manner. she says once that she was working on her anger issues and that's it. we never see her try, we never see any improvement.

and then Catra just abandons Adora because “she couldn't bear to watch Adora sacrifice herself”. Catra didn't just leave because she needed some time to cool off, she was basically willing to abandon Adora and let her die.

3. Clear Motives

Connie's feelings and motives are clear from the get-go. she was worried about Steven putting himself in danger, and she was angry and upset that he broke their promise and her trust.

Catra though?

first she's mad that Shadow Weaver called her a distraction. then she's concerned about Adora's choice to sacrifice herself. and finally, she's upset that Adora doesn't like her in a romantic way.

two of these were very self-centered motives. it's hard to believe that Catra was just concerned about Adora's safety when she's whining about how Adora chose Shadow Weaver over her, as if this was some kind of competition. and it just comes off as the writers shoving in as many reasons as possible for the viewers to sympathize with Catra, rather than writing an organic conflict.

in conclusion, if you want to write a relationship involving a self-sacrificial hero, do it like Steven Universe did. make it make sense instead of shoving in hypocritical conflict.

[dreamersinthedaylightinspo]

Saw a post about Rhys being insane for going after Illyrians who worked with Amarantha while he also worked for Amarantha which reminded me very strongly of a bit that I've been casually working on in my notes app because I have Amarantha’s Takeover Rule Brainrot

Loosely connected with my ficverse and featuring entirely OCs but -

The Illyrian had his hands up. He was speaking - the same word over and over -

"Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary."

Martialis kept his hand raised in stay, but did not lower his short sword. "Who are you? Identify yourself at once!"

"Azeneth of Ironcrest," said the Illyrian. His long hair was a tangled nest of black, a few braided pieces around his pallid, terrified face. He was young, Pyrrha realized with a start - no older than she was, if even that. "Sanctuary. I mean you no harm."

"Liar," someone spat, to her left.

Azeneth's eyes widened; his head whipped to the sound, so Pyrrha got a close look at his eyes - the pupils large as saucers, the whites stark, tears pricking at the corners.

"Its the truth! Please - they'll kill me if I don't fight - the High Lord has gone completely mad -"

"And how do we know you were not sent here to spy on us?" asked Martialis calmly.

Azeneth looked pleadingly at the captain. "They will kill me," he repeated. His fear was genuine; he reeked with it. The green siphoning stone on his chest shone ominously as his emotions flared.

"How did you manage to escape?" Martialis continued.

Azeneth wet his lips. His wings twitched and there was a shift, a series of clanging sounds, as the soldiers behind him lifted their spears and poised to throw. At once, he raised his hands higher, demonstrating his surrender.

"The general is missing," said Azeneth. "We believe that he has been killed - and my unit commander raised this concern with the wrong person - he was executed, and while they were all distracted, I ran."

"And the wards? How did you pass through unscathed?"

"There is a hole on the southeastern segment of the city wall," Azeneth confessed at once. "It hasn't been repaired yet, and its high, so only someone with wings can break through. We know all the weaknesses in the wards - I came through that point, and the others will be coming through after me. They are planning to send a small force to the main gate as a distraction while the Illyrians break through the weak spot. Then the rest of the army will follow."

The south wall - the school, Celestine, was there. Pyrrha's blood ran cold, and it was clear that she wasn't the only one. Martialis's expression was grave, and he ordered, "Tell Keeper Darnic to warn his counterparts, and send a message to Otho and the general."

There was a flurry of movement as one of the priestesses broke free from the group and rushed off. Pyrrha did not dare take her eyes from the Illyrian, who was noticeably trembling.

"Thank you for your information," said Martialis. "For your contributions, a quick death."

Azeneth let out a whimper, but before the captain could attack, Lucretia raised her voice.

"You do not dare spill innocent blood in the Mother's sacred hall!"

Martialis spared the old priestess a glare of indignation. "He's an Illyrian spy," he said, as if she were too stupid to have figured it out. "Illyrians are trained to kill from the womb. We cannot let him live."

"How dare you?" Lucretia's voice, though throaty with age, was still powerful. "The Mother loves each of her children and lifts them when they stumble!"

"We don't have time for sermons!"

"You are right," said Lucretia, lifting her chin. "I am merely reminding you - this is *my* temple. I am the Reverend High, by age and by decree. And if this child claims Sanctuary in the arms of the Mother, then I grant it without hesitatation. Those who would tarnish the Mother's sacred hospitality and compassion have no place here."

Martialis colored with fury and shame flashed across his eyes. Pyrrha understood at once what he must be feeling - not only had Lucretia just threatened to upend their war plans and throw Martialis to the literal wolves at the door, but the old woman had a special talent for enforcing discipline. Serapion slacked off on chores and argued with his parents, but he'd always known better than to sass his grandmother. They all did.

"Disarm him!" The captain snapped the order, but it wasn't directed at anyone in particular and nobody moved at first.

Pyrrha raised her spear and relaxed out of her stance. Her feet carried her - one step, two steps, three steps, four steps - until she was within arms length of the Illyrian.

She held out her hand.

Azeneth began pulling black stone knives from his person - long, curved blades strappedno to his chest, and four daggers strapped to his waist, and another, smaller one in his boot. He dropped them all to the floor one by one, letting them clatter and clang against the tiles. The last thing he removed was the leather strap which held the green stone, and this was the only thing he handed to Pyrrha, placing it gently on her palm.

Her fingers closed around it as she took a step backward. It was warm, and seemed to have a faint heartbeat.

"Search him!" Martialis commanded.

Two male soldiers stepped forward and did so, roughly yanking on his leathers and slapping their hands hard against his body. Azeneth winced, but did not protest.

"Clean!"

Azeneth slowly lowered his hands. No one lowered their weapons.

Martialis broke the tension by sheathing his blade, and turning to face the old priestess.

"Where can we keep him?"

Lucretia's mouth pursed and she said, "He is a guest, not a prisoner."

"Be that as it may," said the captain flatly. "We are at war."

Lucretia looked at Pyrrha, who stared back at her blankly. She was still holding the stone out; she realized she was somewhat afraid of it, and then chided herself as she forced her body to stand normally, arms at her sides. Illyrian siphons were powerful, but they were only stones once they'd been removed from their wearers. Azeneth was harmless.

"My grandson could use some help with organizing our medical supply," suggested Lucretia. "Perhaps our guest might be willing to help?"

Azeneth lowered his chin as a few soldiers snickered to see his expression.

Pyrrha said, "Sure. I'll take you to him. This way."

She looked at Azeneth, who eyed her a bit warily, but followed when she walked. She felt every single eye - her peers, the other priestesses - and only paused when she reached Lucretia's position by the doors.

"Keep your eyes open," the old priestess advised.

Pyrrha nodded. That would be wise indeed.

[greatideas-badwriter]

SasuSaku: Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 25-Mature Content Warning!

Sakura couldn’t sleep. Just a few hours ago, she and Sasuke almost took a very important step in their relationship. If Akuma hadn’t begun to take over the prince’s body, they definitely would’ve gone through with it. It was the way the Uchiha man had been more honest because of his slight fever that gave her the courage to face her fear. Now that his curse had successfully gained control, that charming sincerity was easy to forget. As a result, the anxiety had returned. 

Akuma suddenly turned onto his side to cuddle the pinkette, running a hand up her back and into her hair, where he gently massaged her scalp. His deep voice hinted that he was acutely aware of her current state, “Flowers need rest or they’re susceptible to wilting.” 

She closed her eyes and took a calming breath while enjoying the sensation, “Akuma….” 

They were both quiet for a moment before the curse ceased his massage and grunted. He slid his arms around the princess and pulled her close so her back was pressed to his front. His face was buried in her hair as he grumbled almost begrudgingly, “You’re afraid of the prince.” 

“No!” Sakura said quickly. “Sasuke would never hurt me. I know that. It’s just….”  

Another long pause occurred. Eventually, Akuma broke it, “You’re concerned you won’t be able to withstand it.” 

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes as she sniffled, pulling her husband’s hand from her stomach up to her face to study it in the dark room, “I want to make him happy, but I’m worried I won’t be able to overcome my memories.” 

“A scarred goddess you may be, but a goddess you are, nonetheless.” Sakura closed her eyes when his large hand gently cupped her jaw, her lips pressing to his palm. Akuma whispered uncharacteristically comfortingly, his thumb brushing against her cheek, “A great demon such as myself needs no magic to confirm that idiot prince has unending patience for this princess.”

The pinkette allowed his words and gestures to calm her a bit. A bittersweet emotion flooded her heart as she realized the situation they were in. She nuzzled her face into his palm with a frown, earning a sound of approval from the demon. “I-I’m sorry, Akuma. This must be difficult for you.” 

“You insult me, Pet,” he replied half-amusedly, “As if comforting a weeping damsel would burden something of my strength.” 

Sakura had to remind herself then that Sasuke was able to hear and see all that occurred while Akuma was in control. She gritted her teeth and said nothing for a long time. Eventually, her overwhelmed mind had her lips moving again, “Of all the things I’ve attempted in my life, this is one thing I cannot fail. Sasuke deserves better than someone like me.” 

The hand against her lips swiftly moved down to clasp firmly around her neck, not tight enough to cut off air flow but enough to shock her. “You will not utter such nonsense, understood?” She couldn’t respond because she was too surprised. The hand loosened when Akuma appeared to realize that, “The affections, much less the embrace, of something so pure is something of which I consider no being worthy.” 

Warmth met Sakura’s face, her brow furrowing as she bashfully forced herself to be sincere, “A-Akuma…. Please give me advice. I’m scared.” 

Suddenly, she was on her back, the demon glaring down at her with Sasuke’s handsome face, “You dare ask me to instruct you on how to please another man? I may have accepted my fate but don’t mistake that for complete surrender.” Before the woman could even come up with a reply, his expression mysteriously changed to one of realization, then he was changing his response, “Though, who am I to deny an ill-fated princess pleasure in her final days?” 

‘What is going through his mind? Why did he change his mind so quickly?’ 

Confused, Sakura nodded. 

Akuma lifted her chin to claim her gaze firmly, his tone low and sensual as though he was barely controlling himself, “Weaker demons would take advantage of this situation to claim you for themselves.” The blush on Sakura’s face heated further. She was too stunned to react. “If I offer physical instruction, you’ll endanger yourself, so words will have to suffice.” 

“Okay….” 

Awkwardly, the woman waited for him to begin giving her advice, only for him to smile and lay down at her side. She turns to face him, unsure of what was happening. 

“There is no advice that pertains to every man and woman other than doing what feels pleasurable. Tell that idiot prince when you like or dislike something, and he’ll do the rest, I’m sure.” 

‘He keeps getting upset and then calming down so quickly tonight. Is he alright?’ 

The air had obviously tensed, so the princess hesitantly asked, “Are you angry?” 

Akuma’s eyes closed as he placed his hands behind his head, “Does the fact that I’m not the one with the privilege of exploring every inch of your skin leave me unsettled?” He needn’t answer such a question because the truth was evident. 

Feeling guilty, somehow, Sakura turned onto her back, too, and tried to fall asleep once more. She wasn’t sure if she felt more reassured after that conversation or not. All she knew was that she was determined to be brave for her husband’s sake. 

In the morning, Sakura awoke to a surprising sight. Sasuke was still asleep at her side. She was half-cuddled into his side, so she studied his relaxed face while she had the chance. Akuma almost always discarded the prince’s shirt, so his warm skin was bare. The softest hint of morning light slid through the curtains to provide vision enough to admire Sasuke’s beautiful body. The woman had never been comfortable with physical touch with anyone, much less men, but that was a fading fact the closer she became with the prince. He didn’t like it even more than her most of the time, but he’d never once pushed her away, even when it was obvious he wanted to. 

‘He’s so considerate of me,’ she thought, eyes drifting down to his neck and shoulders. 

Warmth and affection fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She appreciated everything he’d done for her since their meeting. Reminiscing in their time together reminded her of why she was willing to lay her life on the line for his happiness. Sasuke Uchiha was a wonderful person. He deserved the freedom he’d unfairly been denied all these years. 

He suddenly groaned, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. His brow furrowed. With the hand not connected to the arm around Sakura, he reached up to rub his eyes. The fingers at the small of her back twitched as the man seemed to notice her presence. Then, he froze, slowly moving his fingers from his eyes to glance at her with tired eyes. 

She nervously averted her gaze, lowering her head and tightening her hold around his waist while waiting for him to say something. ‘Will he be angry at me for asking Akuma for advice, or that I cuddled with him?’ 

Another groan left him moments later, and his hand ran up her back to hold her more firmly, “I’m not upset.” 

Sakura cautiously lifted her head to meet his gaze. He seemed as awkward as usual, but he didn’t appear irritated in any way. His lips remained in a tense frown as he searched her face. “But….” 

“Though it might not always be under my control, this body is still your husband’s. So long as certain lines aren’t crossed, I won’t blame you for needing attention.” 

Sakura blushed, ‘I never thought I’d be someone who required affection, but he’s right. If Akuma wasn’t there to comfort me last night, I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep and might’ve even had a panic attack in my anxiety.’ 

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she mumbled nervously, “Just as you’ve corrected me, I can’t accept having rights to your body simply because we’re wed. If you’re uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I want to properly respect you.”

As though he responded on autopilot, barely a second could pass before the prince spoke, also sitting up so that the blanket fell to his hips and left his bare torso open to the cold air, “You’re not just my wife but my lover. The Demon’s advice wasn’t incorrect.” He rolled his neck, with a grimace before rubbing his shoulder almost shyly, avoiding Sakura’s wide-eyed gaze, “If there’s something you want or need, if it’s within my abilities, you’ll have it.” 

‘I never expected him to be so direct!’ She also averted her gaze bashfully, “Likewise. If there’s anything I can do for you, please tell me.” 

Things were a bit tense between the couple as they took turns bathing and freshening up before Sakura prepared a late breakfast. Then, after the meal, both appeared unsure of what to say or do. 

The pinkette glanced between her husband’s rigid frame as he stoked the fireplace, the doorway to the bedroom, and the door to the cabin itself while trying to figure out how to ease the situation. She noticed the massive horse eating some hay in the stable outside and an idea popped into her head, “Um, Sasuke?” 

He made an acknowledging sound without turning to look her way. “Shall we go for a ride to get some fresh air?” 

That seemed to garner his full attention because he looked over his shoulder with a guarded expression. After searching her face for a moment, he nodded curtly, “Dress warmly.” 

So, a while later, the duo was out in the stables. Sakura was still wary of the large beast and remained a step behind her husband as they approached it. When it noticed them, it didn’t hesitate to walk up to Sasuke, who smoothly ran a hand up its face to its neck, where he patted it almost affectionately. Sakura watched in awe as the man’s eyes softened while speaking quietly to the horse. 

‘He likes horses, doesn’t he?’ Seeing him being gentle with an animal made her heart flutter. She studied the warmth in his expression, ‘Will he ever look at me like that? I think I’d melt if he did.’ 

“Don’t be afraid. Come here.” 

The woman jumped in surprise, blushing at having been caught staring as she accepted Sasuke’s outreached hand and allowed him to guide her closer. Her fingers trembled as she cautiously touched the animal’s mane. 

“His name is Shadow.” 

A smile tugged at the pinkette’s lips as she gradually became more comfortable since Shadow seemed to enjoy her caresses, “...He seems so powerful.” To Sakura’s surprise, a chuckle met her ears. She looked at Sasuke’s face in confusion, blushing brightly when she saw he had a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. 

He shook his head moments later and forced his face to become passive again, “He’s essentially a big dog.” She was confused until he picked up some hay and offered it to the beast, who eagerly took it with a chuffing sound. “He’ll obey just about anyone who feeds him something tasty.” 

The pair accidentally met gazes before looking away. 

“Let’s get going, then,” the prince said without delay. 

Sakura nodded, watching him expertly mount the horse. He then reached down to offer her a hand, caution evident in his dark eyes. Recalling how he’d kept her safe during their travels on the way to this cabin, she gave him her trust and allowed him to pull her up with stunning ease. The air left her lungs when her back brushed against his front. She tensed as the horse began walking out of the stable and into the snow-covered path leading into the woods surrounding the cabin. 

At first, she struggled to remember how to relax her hips into the horse’s movements. That changed when a snow rabbit suddenly darted across the path they were galloping along on, causing Shadow to suddenly rear up onto his hind legs, neighing in surprise. 

Sakura yelped, only for a strong arm to wrap around her middle, holding her firmly to her husband so that she wouldn’t fall off while the beast came back down and began trotting along again. Little puffs of clouds left both her and Sasuke’s mouths as they breathed heavily. The heat from his body was bleeding into her skin from between their clothes because of how close they were. 

‘...He hasn’t let go.’ Indeed, his arm was around her middle, his hand gripping her opposite waist tightly as though he was concerned she’d faint if he moved an inch. 

The only sound other than Shadow’s hoofs hitting the ground was their breathing. She prayed she wouldn’t make a fool of herself or panic as she recalled Akuma’s advice. ‘I’m scared, but it’s not the fear I’m used to. Do I…? Yes, I think I might like it when he holds me like this.’ Shivering with anxiety and cold, Sakura bravely forced her body to relax against Sasuke’s, a hand cupping his on her waist. His breath noticeably hitched, but neither said a word as the ride continued. 

Sakura’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure her husband could hear it. She felt small against his larger frame. It was as though she was a child compared to his muscular body. The fact was intimidating, but it also stirred something inside her she’d never felt. It was an almost anxious feeling but not so uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to identify it, but her body sure wanted her to do something about it. She just wasn’t sure what that was. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized she could feel every breath Sasuke made against her. 

He evidently took that as her becoming too cold because he guided Shadow to turn around, “Let’s go back.” 

A tiny sound of confirmation left her lips, but she couldn’t possibly form words in her bewildered state. 

The entire ride back to the stables was silent. By the time they arrived, Sakura was nearly sweating. Sasuke climbed off the horse first, then turned to offer her a hand. She took it, unable to meet his gaze. Something, she didn’t know what, would happen if she did. 

‘I should excuse myself to freshen up once we’re inside so I can calm down and catch my breath.’ 

That was the woman’s plan, but her legs nearly gave out when she tried to take a step toward the stable’s exit. An increasingly familiar, strong arm wrapped around her waist, turning her naturally toward its owner so her hands pressed against Sasuke’s chest. Their eyes met and the duo froze. The heat in Sakura’s entire body rose, only to flush down into the pit of her stomach. Without realizing what she was doing, the woman gently tugged on her husband’s shirt so he’d come closer. Then, the newlyweds were kissing. 

It was soft, cautious, at first. Her eyes had closed on instinct, but they crept open when Sasuke pulled away a bit. The man searched her face with a serious expression as though waiting for her to reject him. When it didn’t happen, his eyes danced down to her lips and back up before he kissed her again, more deeply this time. Sasuke’s lips were soft and warm until Sakura felt a wet heat slip past her teeth. 

‘Is that….Is that his tongue?!’ 

It was her first time kissing someone so deeply, but she didn’t outwardly panic and hesitantly allowed him to take the lead. A tiny squeak escaped from between them as the woman’s back hit the stable wall, Sasuke’s hand coming to cup her cheek as he angled his head to deepen the kiss even further. Her fingers clutched his shirt like her life depended on it as she did her best to reciprocate what he was doing. It was…hot, his tongue. The sensation of it swirling intimately with her own, not to mention the taste of his saliva, made Sakura’s knees weak once more. 

Sasuke pulled back after a few moments, his lips moving against hers as they stared at one another through half-lidded eyes, “Are you alright?” 

She kissed him with a flushed face, unable to get enough of his affection, “Mhm.” 

A strange expression she didn’t recognize met his handsome features, and then he was picking her up like a princess and carrying her toward the cabin. She was startled, looking between his focused face and the nearing doorway. Her blood was rushing with anticipation. 

Before she knew it, she was laying on her back amidst pillows and blankets spread out in front of the burning fireplace, Sasuke kissing her just as eagerly as he had outside. Her fingers trembled as she nervously released his shirt to flatten her palms to his chest. Sasuke was everywhere, everything. His heat chased away every bit of the cold along with the warmth of the fireplace. If it wasn’t his lips and tongue possessively moving amidst hers, it was the way his calloused fingers would brush against her cheek, her neck, her hands. 

Never, not once, did he move swiftly or become too rough. Though it was only in the back of Sakura’s mind in her extremely preoccupied mind, she didn’t take for granted how concerned he was with scaring her. The prince was going at an extremely slow pace for her sake. He was giving her the constant ability to stop him. 

Minutes of passionate kissing passed before the woman had to come up for air. Sasuke picked up on it and naturally dipped down to press slow, sensual kisses into her neck. He spoke between presses of his lips to her damp skin, “Go ahead.” 

‘Is he able to read my mind or has he come to understand me so easily after all the time we’ve spent together?’ 

Sakura wasn’t sure about that, but she deemed it a question for later. Instead, she unbuttoned her husband’s shirt with fumbling fingers. Once it was entirely undone, he made short work of sliding it off his arms and tossing it aside before coming back down to reclaim her lips. 

The heat in the pit of the woman’s stomach was gradually moving even lower, and she was clueless on what to do about that. Her legs squeezed together instinctually, a soft moan becoming lost between their mouths. Sasuke was usually a bit awkward, having to often ask for clarity on matters others might deem simple. Today, though, he seemed more confident than usual. The hand on her cheek left to grab hers and press it to his bare chest. He carefully slowed their kiss. Sakura’s eyes opened again as he slid his tongue from hers. 

Both were breathing more heavily than usual. They said nothing as he put his weight on his knees so he could free his other hand. With the movement, the princess’s hand slid to his abdomen, her pulse skyrocketing further as she felt the muscles beneath his pale skin. 

“I’ll undress you.” 

Her eyes heatedly met his and she nodded, watching silently as Sasuke took his time unbuttoning her dress’s front. Though her confidence faltered, Sakura didn’t stop him and even aided him in slipping the garment off over her head. His eyes didn’t leave hers when he then unzipped her skirts and slid them down her legs. The unbearable heat in the woman’s loins faltered. 

‘My scars! I forgot he’ll see them! Will he find me ugly because of them?’ 

To her confusion, the man didn’t even look at her body as he dipped down to give her a chaste kiss. He held himself up with one hand and used the other to guide her back into an arch so he could unhook her brassiere. 

She bashfully averted her gaze with her hands on his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to see the disappointment on his face when he realizes how plain and unsightly my body is. It might just break my heart.’ 

The prince said nothing, but dipped down to press gentle kisses to her neck, her shoulder, down her chest, to her stomach where he reached up to cup one of her breasts. Sakura’s breath hitched and she looked down to see the prince’s heated gaze studying her slim figure. Now, the inexperienced woman had never willingly been in such a situation, but somehow she just knew what that expression meant. She blushed, bashfully reaching down to run her fingers through his hair. She shivered excitedly when his calloused hand gently squeezed her breast. 

Soon, Sasuke sat back on his knees again, this time studying his wife’s face as he removed the remainder of her undergarments, parted her legs, and angled them around his hips. When he unbuttoned his own pants, the woman covered her face, “I-I’m afraid….” 

The man stopped what he was doing. After a brief pause, he ran a hand up her hip to hold her waist. His voice was gentle in a way she’d only heard a few times before, “You’re safe. I promise.” 

Tears welled in her eyes as she squeezed them closed. Her voice wavered, “Can I… Can I keep my eyes open? If I can’t see you, I can’t help but remember-” “Look at me.” 

Sakura peeked between her fingers, to see him watching her patiently. He was entirely unclothed, but she didn’t dare look below his torso. She was much too intimidated by the situation. When she couldn’t bring herself to move, Sasuke carefully took her hands in his and moved them from her face before coming down to kiss her. He spoke between presses of his lips to hers, “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Sakura’s terror melted with her husband’s kisses and small, reassuring remarks until he felt it was time to try continuing where they’d left off. While the Uchiha prince’s tongue flirted with the idea of slipping into her mouth again, he slid his hand from her waist downward, between her legs. A great shiver ran down her spine when she felt him hesitantly massage her most sensitive area. Dark eyes remained locked on hers the entire time. 

He spoke against her lips as he began feeling about for a sweet spot, “This is also my first time willingly, so we’ll learn together, alright?” 

The woman hadn’t known that. She nodded quickly, her back arching as a strange sensation arose from where he was touching. He pulled back a bit, glancing between them. Gently, he repeated what he’d done, making Sakura’s breath hitch and drawing his attention back to her reddening face. 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Some of the tension in his shoulders appeared to ease as his fingers moved more confidently, “Does that feel good?” 

“I-I think so, yes,” Sakura mumbled, too scared to move or look away from his face. 

“You’re wet,” he whispered into her skin, dipping down to kiss her chest. 

The pinkette bit back some kind of sound that tried to escape her as the prince began focusing all his motions on that one spot that sent odd, exciting sensations up her body, “Is that bad?” She was embarrassed. 

Sasuke made a negative sound, glancing up warmly, “It means that your body likes my body.” He continued what he was doing while gradually decreasing his hesitance. His low voice rumbled against Sakura’s skin as he explained, “If you aren’t wet, it hurts when you have sex.” 

Without thinking, the woman began to ask, “Is that why it-!” She clamped her mouth shut, and the man ceased his actions. Her brow furrowed as she immediately began apologizing, “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-” “It’s fine.” 

He kissed her with a serious frown, “As much as I wish this was your first experience, I can’t change history.” He kissed her again, “I’ll replace those memories with new ones, alright?”

Sakura nodded, cupping his cheek with watery eyes. He returned to what he was doing before until the mood had returned to how it was before her slip-up. Soon, he was pressed against her with studious eyes searching for any sign of trouble. 

“I’ll try putting it in,” the prince said. One of his hands was on his wife’s lower abdomen while the other was between her legs so he could guide himself. 

She still couldn’t bring herself to look away from his face and became tense with fear when she felt a terrifyingly familiar pressure against her entrance. Tears flooded her vision immediately, her teeth gritting. The prince stopped, causing her pulse to quicken in panic. She shook her head while blinking to clear her vision, “N-No, don’t stop.” 

It took a moment for Sasuke to respond. When he did, he pressed inside only slightly more before coming down to wipe at his wife’s falling tears, “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” Sakura leaned into one of his hands’ touch, “I want you to have my body. Please keep going.” 

A warm sound rumbled from Sasuke’s chest. He took a deep breath, “Then open your eyes.” When he began pressing further into Sakura, his voice became forced, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he made the woman’s heart flutter by saying, “When you feel scared, say my name to remind yourself that it’s me, not him. As many times as you need.” 

Feeling unsure, Sakura shakily asked, “Will you say my name back?” 

‘When he talks, I feel a little calmer.’ 

The man kissed her with an affirming sound. 

So, after taking a moment to gather themselves, Sasuke pulled back to slide himself the rest of the way inside. Sakura winced when she felt him press against her walls, ‘He’s bigger than Hihara was. It stings a little….’ 

The prince’s name left her lips as she reached for his shoulders again. Like an echo, Sasuke whispered hers right back. He intertwined their fingers on one hand, kissed the tip of her nose, and then began moving. His jaw flexed as he did. 

For a bit, neither made much noise as they figured out how things worked and what felt good. It surprised Sakura, but the small ache faded rather quickly. What she thought she’d never enjoy after her terrible first encounter soon began to feel not-uncomfortable. 

Her breath hitched when a cramped feeling met the small of her back. Sasuke released her hand to run his fingers down her chest to her waist, where he gripped. His gaze was warm and lustful, as was his voice as he breathed the words, “Relax you hips. Like when we’re riding Shadow.” 

“Okay…!” She gasped while following his advice.

Then she lost control of her eyes. They traveled down her husband’s torso to his lower abdomen. Her stomach flipped as she watched his muscles flex as his hips ground into hers at a steady pace. She could feel him watching her and shyly met his gaze again. 

‘I’m okay. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do this, but I can, so long as it’s Sasuke.’ 

His jaw flexed, a small, attractive sound rumbling his chest. A rasp met his tone that was new, “Don’t squeeze like that if you want me to last.” Sakura gasped as she felt him twitch inside her, his tempo stuttering.

She blushed, “Sorry.” 

He shook his head with a tiny smirk, coming down to kiss her over and over. 

It wasn’t long before something unfamiliar began to happen to Sakura’s body. A tight, electric feeling began to coil in her lower regions. It’d flare with each thrust of Sasuke’s hips. By this point, both had a thin sheen of sweat coating their hot skin. Though her body clearly wanted to continue toward this new sensation, Sakura became unsure because it was something she’d never experienced before. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what it was. Her sexual knowledge was still very much lacking. 

A tiny moan escaped her when Sasuke hit something inside her for the first time. Her back arched and her hands fumbled to grab onto whatever part of him she could, “S-Sasuke, that-!” 

Sasuke allowed her to cling to him, looking between them with his forehead against her shoulder, “Stay relaxed, Sakura. Don’t tense up.” He breathed heavily when the woman naturally squeezed him again, “God, you’re close. I can feel it.” 

The tightness heightened at the sound of his breathy voice, causing a louder moan to leave the woman. She released him, instead reaching up to hold handfuls of pillows. The Uchiha man’s eyes widened as he watched her back arch and her head fall back in pleasure. She whined in an unexpectedly sexual voice, her brow furrowed and eyes heavy-lidded, “Close? Close to what?” 

‘He knows what’s about to happen? That means it’s okay, right? He wouldn’t keep going if it was a bad thing.’ 

A low moan left the prince’s lips. He held Sakura’s waist with both hands, pressed his hips more firmly against hers so her legs would part further, and settled into a better tempo with a face that said he was in for the long haul if need be. 

Sakura had no idea what had come over her. Her body wasn’t obeying her, and sounds she’d never made were leaving her lips. One moment, she realized whatever was going to happen was seconds away, and then she was enveloped entirely with a heavenly pleasure she never imagined she’d feel. Hell, she wasn’t sure how the body could comprehend such a thing. 

Sasuke let out a relieved sound, pressing into her fully and breathing heavily while bending over to study her face, “There you go. It feels good, doesn’t it?” He twitched and pulsed within her, but he didn’t stop trying to comfort her, “You’re okay. We did it.” 

An odd, heated sensation pooled within her on the tail end of whatever brilliant thing was happening to her body. Finally, she was able to breathe again and panted for air, tears slowly rolling down the sides of her face to drip into her hair, “Sasu…ke….” 

The tiniest hint of a smile met the prince’s lips and then he was kissing her again.

 ‘We actually did it.’ 

The reality of the situation suddenly hit Sakura and a sob got caught in her throat. Sasuke acted unsurprised and freed her lips to kiss her forehead, brushing sweaty strands of pink hair from his wife’s face. All she could do was hug him and repeat the words “Thank you,” over and over. 

[latoyalestrange]

IT'S NEVER OVER

Joel Miller x F!OC

Series

CHAPTER TWO — POSITIVE TO NEGATIVE

Summary: Twenty fucking years. It wasn’t that Joel had forgotten about her, but she definitely wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. But boy, seeing her sent him in a whirlwind of emotions. He prayed she didn’t know about what he had done, and that was a first for him.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, violence, guns, 18+ minors dni

A/N: Tysm for the love on chapter one! Ya’ll know how to make me blush :,) PS i’m not entirely sure if these are the exact dates/events in the show, this is just how i remember it to the best of my ability. it still makes sense tho don’t worry it just might not be 100% accurate cause i’m lazy lol

AUGUST 27, 2023

Jessie didn’t know how long she was out for, all she knew was for a few moments of pure bliss, she forgot the hell she was in. Her vision was shrouded with a white canvas, she had no idea if her eyes were open or closed. The sounds around her were replaced with a deafening ring. The first thing that came to her mind was Ellie. Where was she? God, she had one fucking job.

Jessie felt bad for Ellie. The constant tests, and being chained up all the time; she understood why she was so reluctant to cooperate. That was her responsibility to fix. She was going to be Ellie’s companion throughout her journey to the Statehouse. Her experience with little sisters and being Marlene’s favorite made her qualified. The only thing in their way: is a battery. A battery they thought they could barter with Tyler to get. But it can’t be that simple in the apocalypse.

“Jessie! Jessie!” It was muffled and far away, but somewhere in the distance, someone was calling her.

“Wake up! We need to go!” She tried to move her body, but it was no use. It felt like trying to move in her dreams, her brain was sending all the right signals but her limbs just wouldn’t budge.

Then, a sharp sting sprouted on the side of her face. Her ears popped at the same time, reality beginning to set back in. Her eyes struggled to flutter open for a moment before finally succeeding to be met with a flustered Marlene. Her eyes widened, putting the last few events together in her mind.

“Did that motherfucker shoot me?” Marlene didn’t expect any less from her. Jessie’s hand instinctively shot down to touch the wet spot on her thigh. She inhaled sharply through her teeth when her fingertips made contact with the new hole in her body.

“Jessie, don’t touch it. They shot us all except for Ellie.” Relief washed over her instantly.

“Oh, thank god. Fuck…” However, she spoke too soon. After taking deep breaths and a few good looks at her surroundings, she realized Marlene had her hands up at a surrender. Her face had anxiety, fear, pain, and shock written all over it. Jessie quickly scanned the room to see Ellie in the same position, with a man and a woman pointing guns at all three of them.

She didn’t recognize the woman. Her hair showed her stress in greying strands and frayed ends. Her clothes looked fairly clean, a little dirty, but she looked freshly showered at the very least. The man…holy shit.

“Jessie?” She stared at him with wide eyes. She thought of about a million different things to say, but she couldn’t get her mouth to move for any one of them.

If she were honest, although it was twenty years ago, she never forgot his face, or his voice. Sometimes in the early hours of the morning, when she was still half asleep in her bed, she could hear him whispering in her ear. When she dreamed of any man, it was him. She could imagine how his hands felt against her so vividly. Maybe it was because he was the last person to touch her like that, or maybe because the memories she had with him were the last few good ones. She didn't know the answer, but she found comfort in all of this. Sometimes it was the only thing keeping her going. She'd been thinking about him more these past few days as the group gathered car parts. Cars always made her think of him.

Yet, he looked so different. So cold. Not at all how she remembered him. His rosy cheeks were now pale and sunken in, and his rich dark hair was turning grey. To anyone else it would be clear that he was too far gone, a survival machine. But something deep inside of her wanted to warm him up, to fill up his cup like she did so many times all those years ago. She could tell he was hurting, and it broke her heart. After all they had been through, even after all he had done, it still hurt her to see him this way. Twenty years later, Joel Miller was still her weakness.

“You know this fucking guy?” Marlene retorted, throwing an accusatory glance in her direction.

“You know her?” The armed woman followed, not taking her eyes off of any of her targets. A few beats pass before her responds.

“Hardly.” That's fucking rich. Never mind anything she thought before. Fuck him.

“He was just a creep that used to hit on me at the diner.” She threw a furious glance in his direction, which didn’t seem to faze him one bit.

“That guy tried to scam you too?” Tess asked with their rifles still pointed at them. Their hands had fallen now that the two had gave them an inch of trust.

“Yeah, clearly a bad battery,” Marlene hugged her side now, bringing Jessie’s attention to the growing spot of deep red on her shirt. “Listen, if a battery is what you’re after, I know where you can get one.” Joel and Tess were silent now, listening intently.

“If you do something for me.”

“No.” Joel answered immediately, causing Tess to jab him in the side with her closest elbow.

“What do you want?” She added. Jessie took the opportunity to look over at Ellie, seeing her slightly exhausted yet fearful expression. Ellie felt her gaze and met it, feeling a small amount of comfort as she smiled at the girl.

“Take my associate and the girl to the Museum outside of Boston QZ and my people will give you a battery.”

“No.” God, he was annoying.

“What’s so important about her?” Tess questioned as Joel pierced daggers through her skull with his eyes.

“I can take her.” Jessie protested now as she began to remove her jacket to use as a make-shift tourniquet.

“You can’t be serious.” Marlene jabbed back instantly. Jessie huffed in opposition before tying her flannel around her leg, bracing herself. Ellie let out an instinctive chuckle, receiving glares from the other three adults in the room.

“I don’t have time to explain, we’re both bleeding out for christ’s sake. All you need to know is it’s important.” Marlene was breathless now, the pain of her grazed wound getting to her.

“We get her to this Museum, and we get a battery and whatever supplies we want. I’ve seen what the fireflies have.” Jessie couldn’t help but laugh at his request. She quickly silenced when her eyes met Marlene’s. She wasn’t taken aback by the man’s inflated ego. She was tired, and Jessie saw her leader surrender.

“Are you really saying yes to these guys?” Normally she wouldn’t dare raise her voice at Marlene, let alone question her, but today she did. Marlene let her head fall back with defeat.

“I’m not really in a place to say no, Jessica.” She shook her head and bit her tongue. “Do you know where the Museum is?” The two nodded their heads.

“I was near it on a supply run a few months ago.” Joel answered. Now that they had come to an agreement, their guns slowly lowered, still wearily holding them at their sides.

“Good. Take them there. They’ll be out of your hair after that.” Tess and Joel take a moment to look at eachother, silently making a life-altering decision.

“Fine. But the minute they cause trouble, they're out." His voice was low, gravely, and serious. Jessie rolled her eyes. Talking about her like she wasn't in the room inched her closer to giving him a piece of her mind.

"Jessica is fine. And she'll watch out for the other one." It was Ellie's turn to show her protest by mocking Marlene under her breath. Jessie pretended not to notice to avoid reinforcing it and returned her gaze to her lap. Her flannel was bloodied now, but at least she wasn't going to die. Her thigh throbbed under the tightness of the tourniquet as she attempted to stand, putting the weight of her body on the brick wall behind her. She turned her head to keep everyone hidden from the pain that was clearly shown on it. Ellie walked briskly over to help her stand, but despite her efforts, Jessie refused any help.

"M'fine." She grumbled, stretching her body for the first time. It certainly couldn't have been long since she was knocked out, but it felt like years. She turned to see the two had finally lowered their weapons and were waiting impatiently for them.

"Play nice, okay?" Marlene pleaded lowly, this time directly to Jessie. "I don't know what your history is with him, but it can't fuck this up. Got it?" Jessie's head hung low as she nodded. Marlene wasn't scolding her yet, but pretty much everything Marlene said came off as a criticism or warning. Marlene made her feel like that eighteen-year-old girl again, helpless at the bottom of a very tall ladder to the top. Twenty years later she had found herself in the same damn place. Working for someone who works for someone, who works for someone, who works for someone, and so on. She stayed for her own survival just like before but in a much more literal sense this time. It was still worlds better than FEDRA, though. Chicken sandwiches instead of mystery jerky, and, not to mention, you had free will in the fireflies. If you wanted to leave, go. Joel and Tess, however, were risking their lives leaving the QZ every single time.

"Yeah. Got it." Jessie tried not to sound defeated in front of Ellie, but she wasn't sure if it worked. She couldn't even look Marlene in the eye.

"Okay. Ellie--"

"Yeah, yeah, shut my mouth, do whatever the adults say, and don't get bit. Got it." Marlene shook her head at the girl's attitude and turned to leave. Jessie met the girl's gaze, sharing a smile as she tried not to laugh.

"Take your time," Tess called to them sarcastically. Ellie gave her a disinterested look before joining them at the other end of the hall. Jessie followed, throwing her bag over her shoulder that was previously on the dusty floor. To say she was in pain was an understatement, but she wouldn't dare show it. The tourniquet would have to work until she could properly dress her wound but even that wouldn't stop her from limping slightly when she walked.

"Stay close," Joel instructed as he forced the rickety door open. It only took one order and Jessie was already sick of doing everything he said. His attitude, his demeanor, everything put off hard-ass energy. With the pair's flashlights as the only source of direction, Ellie and Jessie followed them through the narrow mess that was the abandoned building. They could practically feel the dust in the air as they inhaled. The floors creaked underneath them despite their efforts to remain quiet. They weaved through the maze of debris and the long-forgotten furniture that resided there when everything was normal. Sometimes Jessie found herself imagining the original decorations and layouts of rooms, but it was hardly possible here. Nothing looked like it belonged after who knows how many people picked through it.

Ellie held on to Jessie's backpack as they followed Joel for an extra sense of security. Once they had almost reached the exit, Ellie leaned in closer.

"How do you know that guy?" She tried whispering, but the other two could definitely hear her in the quiet of the structure.

"I already said, he was just a customer." Jessie silently prayed that she wouldn't have to constantly explain the complexity of their past to her or anyone. He was different now and he had made it abundantly clear that it didn't mean anything to him. That certainly wasn't the case for Jessie, but she wasn't going to admit it. Her reaction to seeing him was embarrassing enough as it was.

"Yeah, I heard you. I wanna know what actually happened." If Ellie had a favorite activity, it would be reading her joke book, but her second favorite activity was listening to Jessie's stories about the world before. Ellie longed to know what it was like to live in what were now practically ruins of ancient cities. Jessie happened to know exactly what it was like to grow up as a pre-breakout teenager, and she had endless stories. It was a match made in heaven.

"There are some things you don't need to know, kid," Jessie replied shortly. The girl frowned behind her, deciding to pry at a later date when Joel wasn't within earshot.

A long time ago, Jessie was a naive college student. She met someone, fell in love too fast, and fell too hard. What did she learn? Love didn't exist. All the men she had ever met had only wanted one thing. Joel Miller was no different. All the romantic gestures, gentle touches, and perfect words were just bait that lured her further and further into his trap. She didn't want love to be ruined for Ellie as it was for her. So, Jessie kept the memories close to her chest and tried not to think of him whispering sweet nothings in her ear every time he was close to her. She tried to keep the image of him, flowers in hand at her door, or on top of her in his bed from flooding her mind, but it was no use.

This journey had hardly begun and it was already proving to be agonizingly difficult. Little did they know, it was going to get much worse.

[gummybugg]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

Today I'll send two questions (which are connected):

Question 1 - Imagine that your characters enter a magic labyrinth that shows them their biggest dream (s) come true. What do they see? Is their dream something they can achieve in real life?

Question 2 - In the same labyrinth, your characters enter a room that puts them face to face with (an illusion of) the person they hate the most or their worst fear. How do they react? Are they able to put up a fight against the illusion or do they need to be rescued? How do they feel in the aftermath of the confrontation?

Thanks for the ask! I actually learned quite a bit more about my ocs!

I have put off answering this because I did have to think about it for a bit, so here it is!

Answer 1

Blair: I think what he seeks is to be Understood, which isn't exactly something physically obtainable, but yeah!

Elijah: has always wanted to be a teacher! He genuinely wants to help people, especially children, since he didn't have a very fair childhood.

Darcy: no one cares about his dreams He thinks his dream is to serve humanity even at the cost of his and others' lives, but he truly wants to receive forgiveness from his loved ones/those he pushed away as a result of his arc

Frasier: to visit a flower field! A very peaceful experience, very far removed from a bustling city life & responsibilities

Answer 2

Blair: would be face-to-face with his high school bullies and/or his ex's. Anyone who has ever called him/treated him like a freak. In many scenarios, instead of fighting, he would curl up in a ball and surrender. Blair is an unusual character to write, as he either has 100% bravado or none at all. Depends on the situation. At the end of the day, he generally wears his heart on his sleeve.

Elijah: Facing Darcy, aka the reason for his outstanding debt. They have a tumultuous relationship, being the mayor is lowkey-highkey homicidal. Doesn't want to fight him, but if pushed, yes he will. Prefers to keep a low profile, but if pushed, Elijah will smite a man. Elijah would go in regretting the fight, but come out very relieved it wasn't actually Darcy.

Darcy: worst fear is hurting those he loves. oops, this may have happened a few times already! perhaps he gets haunted by the spirits of those he killed. I think he would come out of the labyrinth more depressed than anything else (he carries a lot of stress from his past).

Frasier: He is one of those guys that just shows up at the right place at the right time, so it's only natural that his greatest fear is being too late, i.e., missing the death of a loved one. Receiving a phone call that a loved one has died. Coming out of the labyrinth, I think would be very traumatizing.

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed):

@writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

[durinde-blog]

I wrote this story as part of a bi-weekly writing contest for another site. The theme was "The Banality of Evil" with the idea of an evil being doing something "ordinary"

Recital

"Grand Overseer, we are so pleased you are joining us tonight," the middle-aged human woman, presumably some sort of administrator, said as she placed herself in front of me.

I heard my bodyguards begin to shuffle behind me, no doubt interpreting the woman's forced interaction as some sort of 'slight.'

She was a thin woman, somewhat mousey, with her eyes amplified by oversized glasses. She wore a number of colorful scarves which bordered on breaking several decency and public order bylaws. In her hands was a clipboard that she held in front of her, her knuckles white. It took a moment, but then I realized that I had met her before.

"Ah, Ms. Pike," I addressed my daughter's music teacher. "I look forward to seeing how my child and the others perform this evening."

The woman nodded. "Your daughter is a bright girl," Ms. Pike said. "She's caught on very quickly. She's been doing very well despite...." She trailed off.

"Despite?" I asked, growling a little. I felt my fur bristle.

"No... nothing, Grand Overseer."

I let myself breathe a moment, forcing my ire to slip by. I had been advised not to attend this event, given my temper and general disdain towards humans. I would not be here but for my daughter, my dear only daughter, who had pleaded that I attend.

We had subjugated them a generation ago. Like we had done dozens of times before, we opened portals to this new dimension and invaded. They fought, fell quickly, and eventually surrendered, as all beings of lesser dimensions eventually did. I had been appointed Grand Overseer of a large swath of territory on this world and had been transferred here with my then pregnant mate.

My daughter, being the strongest of the litter and the only survivor of the infant phase, had grown up here. She hadn't ever known anything else. She had an unhealthy fascination with the humans and their culture, especially their music. I relished the fact that I only had two more cycles of governing here. After that, I could take her back to her home dimension. She could be with her own kind, her own people, away from these demons.

These humans always played submissive, but there was always something there, a rebellious streak that we've been unable to break. The first few years of governance had been peaceful, but it felt like something was brewing. Rebellious and traitorous acts were on the rise, and my patience with these humans was growing thin.

The woman stepped aside and motioned towards a dais. "Please, we've prepared a special seat for you, Grand Overseer. We've made sure to make it comfortable, and it will give you a great view of the recital."

I nodded towards one of my bodyguards who moved towards the dais to inspect it. I could see the nostrils on his boar-like snout sniffing heavily. If the humans had rigged the chair with explosives, my bodyguard's specialized nose would pick it up, even if there was only the faintest trace. The woman looked on nervously.

"No need to worry, Ms. Pike," I said. "Standard procedure to ensure my safety. You understand?"

I could smell the fear radiating off of her. Pathetic.

In fact, this entire gymnasium was foul. I understood that the offspring of these humans would exercise here as part of their educational curriculum. It was something that we allowed, given that we wanted our stock healthy. The space would get repurposed from time to time as a space for performances.

Rows of human-sized folding chairs were lined up in front of the stage that occupied one end of the large indoor arena. Years of sweat and cleaning solution hung in the air. I doubted the humans with their poor sense of smell could even fathom how bad it was.

The bodyguard finished his sniffing and grunted in satisfaction. He gave me the signal that the chair was safe.

"You'll excuse me, Ms. Pike," I said. "I should take my seat."

She nodded. "Of course! Enjoy the show, Grand Overseer!" I could see her body visibly relax. I moved past her, and I noticed her approach other parents in greeting. Unlike her interaction with me, she had smiles for the human parents, sometimes laughter as well.

I ignored it. I settled into the chair on the dais and tried to relax. There were so many things I could punish them for, so many rebellious looks or stares. Again, I forced down my ire and reminded myself that tonight, I had to be nothing but a parent, supporting his child in something she loved.

More humans streamed into the gymnasium. I felt the air grow more oppressive as more of their stench hung heavy in the air. I felt their eyes falling upon me and heard their muttering as they took their seats.

I did my best to ignore it. I was here for her, not them.

Finally, the lights dimmed, and Ms. Pike stood at the front of the stage.

"Good evening everyone! And a very good evening to our special guest, the Grand Overseer!"

Scattered, nervous applause came from the crowd. It hung on the edge of being disrespectful.

"Now, our students have worked very hard to prepare this evening. Remember, these are children and that everyone," she paused for a moment. "And I mean EVERYONE deserves your applause for their hard work."

She relaxed and smiled. "Now, let's get on with the show!"

The event proceeded. I watched human after human attend to the stage. Some played instruments, some sang, some danced, some even approached having talent. I endured the best I could, clapping after every child left the stage, doing my best to appear amicable to the humans.

Finally, my daughter appeared. She approached a human musical instrument called a piano and moved the bench aside, opting to stand in front of the device. I knew that the human-scaled bench would be much too small to support her weight.

Before starting, she looked around the gymnasium, spotting me. She gave a shy smile, content in knowing that I was there for her.

She started. I didn't really get what she was playing. To me, all human music sounded discordant. She began, and after a few moments appeared to make an error, causing her to pause the performance and the human audience to gasp. I felt all eyes fall upon me. I ignored them, keeping my eyes on the stage as I saw Ms. Pike nervously encouraging my daughter to continue.

My daughter looked at me for a moment, and I nodded, motioning for her to continue. She picked the performance back up. As she carried on, I noticed the difficulty she was having, her large paws a little too oversized for the human instrument.

And that's when she began to sing. I felt my heart swell as I realized it was a song from our home dimension. Amazingly, she had matched the lyrics to the human music. I knew her and her mother had been working on something in secret, but I had no idea this was it.

I was completely relaxed then. I was no longer a stranger here, just a father watching his daughter give the performance of her life.

She finished, and I gave a standing ovation; the others in the gymnasium followed.

A few more human children performed, and the lights came back on. I stood and headed out the door, my bodyguards in tow. My child met me in the hallway.

She ran up to me and hugged me. I stroked her fur as she beamed up at me.

"Did you see, father? Did you like it?"

I nodded. "You did great, honey." I motioned towards our waiting vehicle. "Let's get you home. I'll be there in a moment."

One bodyguard helped her aboard the vehicle, while the other remained next to me as I looked back at the building.

"How should we punish them?" he asked. "They crossed so many lines tonight. Their taint is spreading; I fear for your daughter."

I shook my head as I watched the humans guide their own children to their own vehicles. The human children were animated, talking excitedly to their parents about their performances. It mirrored the interaction I just had with my own offspring. They were just like me.

"Let them have tonight," I said.

"We can start the harvest tomorrow."

[bluerevs-a]

               oddly  enough,  he’s  stifling�� a  laugh  as  she  explains.  not  that  he  was  amused  by  her  fear,  but  that  her  reasonings  were  the  exact  examples  of  why  he  didn’t  mind  it.  flying  was  so  grossly  out  of  his  control  that  it  left  no  choice  but  to  surrender.  it  reminds  him  of  elena’s  own  occupancy  in  his  life,  how  she  came  in  with  a  metaphorical  battering  ram,  terrifying  and  mystifying  him  all  in  one  fell  swoop.  “you  should  know,  i  can  be  very  convincing,”  he  promises  with  a  raise  of  his  brow.  “i’ve  got  a  laser  pointer  and  i  always  cite  my  sources.”  they’ve  floated  back  into  easy  conversation,  bouncing  between  topics  of  importance  and  triviality,  but  there’s  an  undercurrent  beneath  it  all  that  he’s  sure  she  can  feel  as  well  —  sadness,  exhaustion,  desperation.  one  look  at  her  and  he  knows  their  plights  hardly  compare,  that  she’s  made  the  most  sacrifices  between  the  two  of  them  to  be  here  right  now.  with  that  considered,  he  silently  reminds  himself  to  remain  diligent  in  withholding.  it  could  wait.  he’d  grown  accustomed  to  waiting,  after  all.  “oh,  so  i’m  a  father  now?”  another  pique  of  his  brow,  followed  by  a  small  chuckle.  “no  pressure.”

              marcus  shakes  his  head  in  affirmation,  but  it’s  written  plainly  on  elena’s  features  that  she’s  not  satisfied  with  his  answer.  it  goes  unsaid,  but  he  knows  that  the  topic  has  simply  been  shelved.  they’d  be  going  into  this  more  later,  and  knowing  elena,  likely  more  than  once.  it’s  unsure  what  forces  his  face  to  twist  first:  her  thumbs  against  him,  or  the  new  label  for  his  nipples.  the  moment  leaves  him  a  bit  stunned,  turning  on  a  heel  to  watch  as  she  rushes  off.  “you’re  ridiculous!”  he  calls  behind  her,  laughter  seeping  through  his  words.  this  served  as  case  in  point  of  why  marcus  had  become  so  enamored  with  her  in  the  first  place.  there  was  never  any  warning  or  guarantee  what  she  would  do  next,  yet  that  rarely  felt  like  a  threat.  nothing  about  elena  felt  artificial  or  curated,  she  was  always  just  herself.  “wait,”  he  calls  out  again.  with  a  few  strides,  he’s  crossed  the  threshold  into  the  bathroom.  “turn,”  emphasizes  the  request  with  a  motion  of  his  head,  and  once  she  complies,  marcus  unzips  the  back  of  her  dress  in  a  swift  motion.  sure,  it  would’ve  been  uncomfortable  for  elena  to  contort  her  arm  to  do  it  herself,  but  selfishly,  marcus  relished  in  the  intimacy  of  the  simple  action.  he  backs  up,  eyes  flitting  to  his  glass  shower  door,  hoping  she  understood  why  he  opted  to  stay  back.  the  glass  was  frosted,  but  did  little  as  far  as  concealing  much  of  anything.  “you  shower,  i’ll  make  tea.  ...  and  i  still  might  put  on  a  shirt,  since  you  clearly  can't  be  trusted."

a sugary smile stretching in a pearly white one at being called brave and his girl in one sentence. "maybe. but in a car... least i feel like i'm the one in control, even if i might crash anyway. in a plane it's all suffocating and scary, being confined so high up and my life in someone else's hands." she explains, just thinking of it has her brows creasing as she thinks about the stress of it. "but i still wouldn't mind a marcus presentation." a tiny laugh escapes as her features soften, only he has the power do that while so many parts of her body hurts right now and she feels like she survived a tornado. "of course i really want to. just for one night, at least." she pepped, shoulders shrugging. "i think you're forgiven according to the speed of the tail wagging i gathered, regardless how it went the first time," she can laugh about it now, especially remembering how percy and marcus both were a chaotic mixture that night which is hilarious to think on if she ignores the rest of the parts that hurt. "but it would only be proper if you shake his paw. he has to know who his dad is." elena amusingly smiles, the red still stuck to his face continuing her display of amusement etched across olive features.

"not me?" she wonders how come, since she did have some similarities. could've sworn they were getting along from his stories she had to see, like the night he came over right after their date or whatever it was. she looks skeptical about it, but decides she'll pry more about it after her shower. "hmm..." frown deepened hearing this answer, that idea didn't sound great at all. pouting because he doesn't want to talk to her while she's washing her hair. "it doesn't matter at all. i actually like it better with your pepperoni's on display." her cold thumbs pressed into his nipples in gesture what she was calling pepperoni's and to do something spontaneous before hurriedly climbing down off his bed when the adrenaline giggles started bubbling over by reaching out and using his arm to hold on to then scattering off to the bathroom with his shirt once her feet hit the floor.

[last-capy-hupping]

HotD thoughts/spoilers incoming, plus some triggering discussions of childbirth and death….

I’ve gotta say, I’ve seen lots of horrifying birth scenes on various shows like Call the Midwife, but I’ve never been as shaken by a scene of a mother dying during childbirth as I was by Queen Aemma Arryn’s death.

It was shocking and brutal and ultimately pointless. We only got about 30 minutes of Aemma onscreen, but she made an impact. You saw her kind, warm interactions with her husband and her daughter, and you understood her fears of childbirth very well. The scene with Viserys, where she told him that she would not be able to handle another pregnancy after already losing five children before or shortly after birth, really gave us a lot of insight into how she viewed her duty—to be a royal womb, as she said to Rhaenyra—and how she struggled so deeply with it. I do wish that the show had included the canonical detail that her mother, Princess Daella Targaryen, died giving birth to her because that would’ve made what happened to Aemma later in the episode even more heartbreaking and tragic.

But more importantly, that conversation between Viserys and Aemma also makes Viserys’ decision to let Aemma bleed out via c-section so that their son could be born alive even darker and crueler. I also appreciated that the writers chose to focus so much on Aemma’s face and Aemma’s confused fears during her final moments alive onscreen. The viewers know without a doubt that Aemma didn’t consent to the medical procedure and that neither Viserys nor Maester Mellos informed her of what was to be done to her before they did it. Aemma died horribly, without even understanding what or why it was happening, because of Viserys’ selfish, brutal act. And at the end, he’s cradling the son who lived only a few hours and is unable/unwilling to even look at the wife whom he just had murdered.

At first, I didn’t like that the show runners decided to cut between those scenes and the tourney scenes, but I changed my mind by the end of the sequence. During the tourney, you see man after man decide to continue fighting to the death after being unhorsed in the joust. They’re fighting for honor and glory. There isn’t even a real war going on, and they’re killing or getting killed for some praise and the potential of getting some money and maybe a knighthood. Yes, those things are incredibly important in their society—tourneys are one way that knights and aspiring knights can support themselves financially and find lords to support them—but the scene exposes the pointless, violent horror of it all. As Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was, says to her husband, Corlys Velaryon, they’re not even preparing to fight a real war. They’re green knights with hot blood and “balls full of seed,” so of course they’re killing each other during trials by arms rather than surrendering. And of course Viserys chooses his son’s life over his wife’s: he thinks that it’s the best way to avert a succession crisis. And the rest of the show is going to demonstrate just how pointlessly violent and futile that act was.

Finally, I just want to reiterate how happy I am that the show primarily focused on how Aemma’s death inflicted tremendous pain on her and her daughter, Rhaenyra. And Rhaenyra was ultimately proven terribly correct when she said in the beginning that all of the septas, midwives, and maesters were looking out for the baby but not for Aemma.

[moonlight-prose]

AS TIME GOES BY | ORANGE COLORED SKIES

a/n: it has been a minute since bucky got a one shot. i rewatched what if zombies and with the enabling of @themarcusmoreno this came to life. basically it's angst and filth so hopefully you enjoy! i haven't written smut since the beginning of november so i have no idea how this sounds. it's in the what if universe. this is not beta read and very little editing has been done so there's most likely mistakes. might evolve into more parts. who knows.

summary: the end of the world! such a strange reality to survive him, but you had him. that is until things take a turn and you find yourself stuck with a choice.

word count: 5.4k+ (i'm back baby)

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS GO AWAY, rough sex, some dom and sub vibes, choking, overstimulation, pussy slapping yes okay don't look at me, one second of edging, usage of the word sir, violence IT'S A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, a tad bit of gore, so much angst it's ridiculous, some debauched p in v sex, cussing. i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything!!

The end of the world.

A horrible concept to think about...right? Only what if things turned out that way? What if...zombies ravaged the streets of New York, people turned to mindless creatures that feasted on human flesh, and life just had to be that way. Originally the topic was purely cinematic. Something to joke about, but never take seriously, until one day the world shifted and suddenly...there you were.

Shooting a gun in the middle of the street as you try to grasp for any food left. Enough to make a dinner that wasn’t purely canned food again - or the cooking done by Peter Parker. None of you had expected the ambush, or even the attack from one of his friends...but then it happened. You had been shoved into a street, surrounded by the disgusting faces that left your heart racing from fear and adrenaline.

Three mags down and only a few bullets left meant you were signing off your will in your head. Mentally writing a final letter to those you loved and hoping that he could hear your thoughts. You would not go out this way. That had been your final wish. You’d rather put a bullet in your skull then allow yourself to turn into one of them and so with a resigned sigh you leapt onto the rusty looking dumpster and counted the minutes until you’d have to do just that.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Where the fuck are you Parker?” you muttered, kicking the face of an undead man who you didn’t recognize. Good riddance, you were much too close to your own death to care about those who were already beyond help.

A thud echoed behind you and you didn’t have enough time to even turn around before a hand clamped around your neck. Yanking you backwards and off the dumpster to the ground. Groaning, you grappled for the gun that was knocked out of your hands and pulled the trigger, hoping that whatever tossed you was just another person.

The sight of a red haired woman standing above you, her face ripped open and blood dripping from her jaws caused you to freeze in place. You hadn’t seen her since the day they left; her goodbye still replayed on a loop in your mind from time to time and each time it tore you to shreds. To know that someone you considered your greatest friend hadn’t come home to you. The breath was knocked from your lungs as she stared at you, eyes turned yellow from the disease.

“Natasha,” you whispered, unable to raise the gun.

You should have taken the shot. Put one right between her eyes, but there was no use...you had already run out of bullets with no extra mag in sight.

“It’s me,” you said. Of course you knew that she wouldn’t be able to recognize you; understood that her brain was too far gone for her to even know her own name.

Standing slowly you held your hands up in surrender in the hopes that she wouldn’t do much. Only that seemed to trigger her mind to see you as nothing but a meal. Never did you think that you’d have to be contemplating the thought of how you’d kill your friend, but you now had reached a point in your life where things didn’t surprise you anymore. A broken scream left her mouth as she lunged at you, hands outstretched and jaw opening.

Even as a zombie she knew how to fight. How that was even possible you didn’t know.

“Natasha!” you screamed, blocking her hit to your chest, mentally thanking the tact vest lined with vibranium for holding up when she bit down. Slamming your foot into her stomach you reared back right as she did, flipping forward with your hand on the ground to steady you. Only to meet her eyes - noticing she did the exact same move.

It was hers after all.

“Don’t do this,” you whispered, begging her to come back. Even for a moment. Only that moment never arrived. Something was digging their hands into your arm and attempting to drag you away - to where you had no idea - but all you could do was do your best to get away from them.

Cursing and shouting to get someone’s attention, you fought against the zombified version of what looked to be a mailman. To your relief a call of your name echoed through the unusually empty street before a thwip hit your ears and you were being dragged in a completely different direction. You yelped, quickly grabbing for the web that connected you to Peter as he pulled you to where Bucky was waiting.

“Fox!” Sharon shouted, tossing a mag in your direction and shoving a rusted pipe directly into a zombie’s chest.

You only had seconds to shove the mag into place before you were being charged by Natasha; her form practically teeming with fury. To say you were unprepared was an understatement. You couldn’t do this. Kill your best friend? How would you be able to justify calling yourself a decent person after this incident? How could you look on her memory with fondness?

The questions seemed to race through your mind all in a millisecond, because in a burst of adrenaline and reflexes you were once again pulling the trigger and watching it...hit her in the shoulder.

“No!” you cried out, seeing her leap back into the deserted street, vanishing from sight.

The moment hadn’t even processed in your mind before a knife was slicing through Peter’s web and you were being dragged to your feet. It was Bucky yanking you into his body and wrapping his arms around you that brought you back to the living. That gave you a chance to inhale the scent of him, burying your face into his neck, all the while your heart felt as if it would surely rip right out of your chest. You waited with baited breath in the hopes that you’d simply wake up.

Maybe this was a dream, a cruel trick of the mind.

Natasha wouldn’t be one of those things and you would be safe and sound in bed with the man before you, but even as you counted to three in your head you knew. This gory reality you resided in was permanent. Forever a world that you would live in until the day you took your last breath, until you could no longer fight for the survival of what you cared for.

What was the point? When you had lost so many already.

Bucky pulled back, cupping your face and running his thumbs along your skin in a minuscule act of comfort. Right there. This - this moment of careful consideration for one another, of checking to see if the hurt lay beneath the surface. This was the point. This is what you were fighting to save and so with a deep breath you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck once more and breathing him in.

Grateful that he still stood there, holding you just as tight as he always did.

“It was her,” you mumbled, fighting back the sting of tears. “She looked right at me and didn’t see me, Buck.”

His warm breath hitting the back of your neck let you know he didn’t like what he heard. Sure, you were healthy - safe in his arms physically. But that didn’t measure the amount of mental damage you just sustained by seeing the woman who you had fought with - laughed with - as a zombie. Horrifying didn’t even cut it. No, there was no word to describe the wound that only grew the longer you pictured her standing there. The familiar glint in her eyes went completely only to be replaced by something else.

Something foreign, feral.

“That’s not her anymore,” he breathed into your shoulder, arms still clutching tightly onto you.

“I know I just-”

“Look at me.” To your disappointment he pulled away fully, grasping onto your waist to make sure you didn’t go anywhere. You wanted to look anywhere else in order to avoid the hardened look in his eyes, but you couldn’t get your gaze to stray somewhere else even if you wanted it to. “She’s become as mindless as an animal with rabies.”

“Bucky don’t-”

“You need to hear this,” he said. “Natasha, Tony, Steve-” his voice cracked slightly, eyes glazing over with tears he never let fall. Not once. “-they’re gone.”

“I know that,” you snapped, yanking away from him. “I know they’re not coming back. That no cure can save them. You don’t have to remind me of the truth, because it’s stuck with me.”

“Fox.”

Holding up a hand you moved back, needing more than anything to breathe fresh air. Where the stench of the dead didn’t permeate every fibre of your lungs, making you practically choke on it. This was your reality. Living a desolate life of just trying to survive and yet...you wished more than anything you could go back in time. Return to the days when all you had to worry about was the next mission Fury sent you on.

When you could look at Bucky and see a man who was merely working through his past. Who’s eyes didn’t make you tense up each time you saw them glance your way.

He was not the same man you fell in love with, but you weren’t the same person he fell in love with either. Both of you had been destroyed by the endless war, chipped away until only dust remained. Two human shells of the people you used to be, clinging to one another in the hopes that you might find a semblance of who you were again. That no matter what, deep down, you were still the love of his life just as he was yours.

Some days it was hard to tell who was more broken, but today you won that round.

Still fighting back tears, you grabbed the rifle on the ground, swinging it around your shoulder by it’s strap and following Sharon down the street. Normally it was a race to get out of the area before the others found you, but today everything had turned calm. Eerily quiet as all of you continued on your way with Peter swinging above to keep an eye out for the worst.

“He means well,” Sharon’s voice broke through the loud noises in your mind, helping you to shove down the impending doom that seemed to settle beneath your skin. Reminding you that this was it, this was all life could be.

“I know he does,” you sighed, fiddling with the knife in your hand. “He doesn’t understand. Seeing her like that...it broke whatever soul had left inside my body.”

She huffed out a laugh, glancing at the sky for the flash of red, letting her know Peter was still there. “He understands more than you know Fox.”

“But he-”

“Lost someone too.”

The echo of your footsteps coupled with Bucky’s and Sharon’s seemed to be the only noise in the city today, but you didn’t mind it much. Her words struck a chord in your heart - yanking it so hard that you were sure you’d ripped something open. Were you bleeding from the wound? Had your heart finally been torn to shreds completely?

You understood what he’d lost, knew that Steve was his last family, his last memory of a world that you weren’t a part of. So how could you turn your anger on him when he was facing exactly what you were facing? Shame filled your body, nearly overflowing due to your small act of complete and utter stupidity.

“He’ll forgive you,” she said, bumping your shoulder with hers. “He always does.”

“I feel like you’re reading my mind.” Smiling, you heard Peter call out your names, the facility up ahead. “It’s getting creepy Carter.”

“It’s a skill,” she replied, grabbing onto the web that Peter sent down. “Learned it from my aunt. It’s kind of hard to get rid of.”

Bucky was directly behind you; his body heat soaking into yours even as he stood mere feet away. You wanted to blame it on the fact that you were perpetually cold, but even you knew it was more. Somehow - you were both connected on a deeper level than either of you fully understood. A string of the fates that tied you together, growing taut and straining from the weight of your sorrows.

Instead of turning around and kissing him like you wanted to, you stepped forward, grabbing the web with both hands and feeling as Peter began to hoist you up. There were other ways to get into the facility, running along the rooftops, being carried by the teenager who seemed to take on the world by himself. But today this was your way. Forcing yourself to remain focused on what lay ahead rather than turning back to watch as Bucky grew smaller the more distance was put between the both of you.

“Thanks Pete,” you huffed, leaping onto the roof of the facility and opening the latch of the door Sharon let close behind her.

“Anytime Fox.”

Climbing down the ladder you heard Bucky land on the roof above you, his voice muffled by the shut door. The apology still remained on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst out at a moment's notice, but you couldn’t set it free. Not when the sight of Natasha ready to rip out your throat with her teeth still replayed in your mind. You would find him when you had time to process what you witnessed, the urge to vomit growing with each second.

Eventually you’d lose the battle with your stomach, but for now you downed a glass of water and pretended like everything was okay.

None of it was - you knew that and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving down the emotions. Replacing the anger with anything else in order to get your mind off the tragedy of losing your friend. It was only after you’d spoken to Happy and Hope did you realize...that Bucky was nowhere to be found.

“He’s in his room,” Sharon said, cleaning up the rest of her gun and sliding the mag back into place. “Didn’t say a word to anyone just left.”

Cringing slightly, you thanked her for the update. He was acting this way because of you. Burrowing into his own mind where he believed things to be safest in order to preserve himself from the pain you had caused him. Heading down the darkened hall you heard the shuffle of shoes come from the other side of his door. No doubt he was pacing - again.

You knocked, feeling bad for hoping that he wouldn’t answer. Except all that was squished out from existence once he opened the door and you saw his face. No longer did the wall remain, his stoic barricade that he kept up in front of everyone was gone, obliterated. Leaving him with an utterly broken expression. Without a word you stepped forward, enveloping him in a hug. One he reciprocated almost immediately, letting go of the door in favor of grasping onto you instead.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered into his neck. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

He sighed, hand gripping the back of your neck to pull you back and before you could allow another apology to slip free he was slotting his mouth against yours. Roughly kissing you with a fervor that had you melting into his hold. The act was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. So, you dug your hands into his hair in order to drag him closer, teeth digging sharply into his bottom lip - hard enough to draw blood.

The stress of the day, the pain, every bottled up emotion you’d both been keeping to yourself came to the surface in one large wave. Crashing into your bodies and overwhelming you. This wasn’t merely about working off the adrenaline that still coursed through your veins, this was more. A chance to grip at the one thing that still grounded you. To hold it in your hands and keep it close.

A growl tore from his chest when you licked into his mouth, inhaling for breath as the kiss turned feral. You were desperate to feel that connection again, to remind yourself of the one thing you fought for. This man - this person who worshiped you - he was your equilibrium; the gravity that kept you on Earth.

“Bucky,” you moaned softly, hand running through his hair as his teeth latched onto your neck. Sucking his way down until he hit the collar of your - his - shirt.

“My cunning little fox,” he crooned, lips sliding down your sternum with each button he undid. His hot breath only seemed to warm up your body even more, filling your veins with an agonizing need that only he could rid you of. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“No-”

His lips on yours again cut you off and before you could retaliate - prove to him that everything he believed wasn’t true - he was walking until your leg hit something. Causing you to stumble and land on the ground. You yelped when a stinging pain went through your knees as you landed, but you also laughed. Felt the pain begin to wash away slightly at the notion that the both of you were safe, he was here with you and that was all you could have hoped for at the end of the day.

“Come here baby,” you whispered, perfectly content to remain on the floor. All you cared about was bringing his lips back to you somehow.

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice, not when it came to you. You - the one who saved his damned soul from a hell that wished to envelop the both of you. Although he knew you’d argue that it was him who did the saving, he knew the truth. You kept him afloat and sane in a world that would happily chew him up and spit him out. Neither of you could contain the emotions that you kept away from the rest of the world, because they were too real.

Too raw to be seen by anyone but each other.

You yanked him to you, the desperation setting in once more, lips biting at any piece of skin you could get to. It was him tearing off the shirt he wore beneath his suit that set you off completely; had your hands gripping at the muscles of his back while he rocked his hips into you. There wasn’t enough time to spend with him and yet it seemed that there was all the time in the world.

The laws of the universe froze just so you could have a small chance to show him how much you loved him. A few moments to whisper your longing, no matter how eviscerating it felt, into his skin in the hopes that he’d finally understand what he meant to you. He was everything and more. The anchor that kept you from floating away in the horrendous waters of this damn city that was infested with an array of gory truths.

“You almost died today.” His voice was hoarse, the emotion he tried to hide at the sight of you being put in a situation he couldn’t get you out of finally broke the last of his walls down. “You-”

“I’m here,” you breathed against his lips, cupping his face to keep him there as a moan broke through your tender words from the way he roughly thrust against you, forcing stimulation to your clit from your tactical pants. “I’m with you.”

A broken sound tore from his throat, smashing the last bit of your soul and sending you into a spiral. You felt voracious for him, almost depraved by the way you tore at the belt of his pants. Feeling him tear at your own clothes as well until your pants were at your knees like his and he was yanking your hands away from his skin.

Soft, tenderhearted, beautiful. These were things you could no longer give to one another, because life had ripped it from your hands. The world told you that to be reverent with one another was too wholesome - too virtuous - for a reality that now existed merely to kill you.

His teeth dug into your skin along the side of your breast, biting his way towards your nipple as he pressed his thumb against your clit immediately. You had no warning before the sensations assaulted your mind, your nerves; forcing everything into a level of heightened you could barely keep up with. Only you fell into it happily. Cried out some form of a cuss word as he shoved you into a high that wouldn’t last for very long. You knew why he did this, why he watched you with eyes that drank in your every expression, each movement you made.

He needed to know you were alive.

Lifting your head, you caught his lips with your own, moaning sweetly into his mouth as his tongue slid against yours. Hot, broken, and rough was all he could give you, but it was enough to salvage whatever pieces of your soul remained.

“You’re not dying on me,” he roughly bit out against your skin, teeth biting down on your jaw and leaving a lovely stinging sensation behind. “Not while I’m still breathing.”

“Bucky!” His fingers slipped in between your folds, dragging the slick you were practically dripping up until he was back to working over your clit. Stimulating you in a way that had your hips rolling into his palm and your head falling back to the floor. You wouldn’t last more than a few more seconds, but he knew that all too well by the harsh grunt of your name he sent your way.

“You want to cum?” he asked, shifting to cup your head and tilt his way. His hips kept your legs trapped - open and spread for him - as he started to thrust his fingers into you. The bottom of his palm was still grinding into your clit.

It was too much for you to handle and yet you found yourself begging wantonly for more. Meeting his eyes you nodded, eyes wide with a look that drove him off the edge - that turned him into the hardened man you knew today. He used to joke that he’d have to become the ruthless man he once was in order to survive such a grisly world. Only you knew he wasn’t joking.

In the blue of his iris you caught the feral glint of a soldier who only knew how to kill, how to bring pain unlike anything you’d seen before. That’s what you latched onto. What you dragged forward and showed him, because even through this zombie infested city, even through the hardships and horrors, you loved every part of him. Even ones as broken as that lonely soldier who fought a war that never ended.

The smile he flashed you wasn’t him, but that man and you couldn’t deny the way your walls clenched around his fingers at the sight. Two people who were beyond saving, finding one another again and realizing that you liked the debauched versions that remained. Found solace in the pain.

In an act of absolute cruelty he pulled his hand away, watching as you whined for him. Words spilled from your lips, things you wouldn’t have normally said before you met him, but there you were. Just shameless enough to beg at his feet for the chance to feel that rush of pleasure, that high only he could give you. A small part of you knew he got off on it - on watching you beg - but another part of you, much larger, knew that he did this for you.

“Ask nicely,” he whispered.

You couldn’t recognize yourself anymore. No longer did you hide away the desires that once felt too sinful, far too much for you to handle. Yet there you were - at the mercy of this man who you trusted your life with. Words so sugary sweet flowed from you smoother than any whiskey and you watched in glee as his eyes grew darker, lids drooping from the sound of you.

“Please,” you whined. “I need it. I’ll be good, I promise. You can do whatever you want with me baby, just please, please, please let me cum.”

Sliding your hands through his hair you tugged sharply on it and tilted his head back to lick along the column of his neck. Sucking softly on the spot beneath his chin that you knew he loved; digging your teeth in just enough to leave a mark. No one would see it, or even care, but you would. You’d admire it and know that this man who played your body like an instrument, was yours.

“I need to cum...sir,” you said, hearing his intake of breath and smiling smugly at the notion that you had him right where you wanted him.

Only you didn’t anticipate for his last bit of control to snap in two - so loud you nearly heard it echo off the walls - because he was pulling away completely. Your cry of protest cut off when he gripped your waist and flipped you until your knees were firmly planted on the floor; hands stopping you from hitting the ground completely.

A hand gripped your throat, tilting your head back until your eyes met his. “You want this?”

The last bit of tenderness that either of you could salvage was this - a moment where everything faded away and it was just him and you riled up to a point of incoherency. Nodding, you licked at your lips and bit down to stifle the scream as he slowly pushed into you. You’d pick this moment to stay in rather than go back out there as soldiers; remain here with him as he moans into your shoulder, each small push into you, driving him mad with pleasure.

“Always so fucking good,” he rasped, one hand gripping onto your hip as the one of your neck tightened slightly. “So - shit - so perfect.”

He stilled once his hips met your ass. Seemingly content to remain there, rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumb while he gained some semblance of control. You however were gone. Obliterated by the sheer feeling of him filling you completely.

“Move,” you whined, pushing back in the hopes that he’d do something.

The stinging sensation on your ass followed the echo of his hand slapping you had your walls clenching around his cock. If he was standing, that feeling alone would have brought him to his knees, but tonight he felt greedy and so he brought his hand down again. Reveling in your choked moan of his name.

“You said you would be good,” he said, pulling your head back and pressing his lips to yours as he pulled out slowly. “Right?”

“Yes sir,” you replied. He slammed back into you, forcing your eyes to roll back while he swallowed your cry.

“My good girl.”

The slowness of his thrusts vanished once the feelings from before came rushing back to the surface. Reminding the both of you that you were aching for something else to ground you. Something more than just tenderness and whispered words. Pulling out he thrust back into you hard enough to jolt you forward and force your hands to slap against the floor. You barely had time to make a sound, because he was forcing the breath from your lungs. Each thrust, rough and desperate like you were.

Dropping your head between your shoulders you slammed back, practically impaling yourself on his cock, walls contracting tightly around him at the sounds he let out. It was exactly what you needed. A reminder that even through everything, you had one another. That you were alive. His hand gripped onto your shoulder, using it as leverage to pull you back as he thrust forward, forcing him so deep you could hardly form a coherent thought.

It wasn’t until his hand returned to your throat and yanked you back did you realize that you were saying words. Mumbled out nonsense, but words all the same.

“‘M yours.” His fingers met your clit, jolting your hips as the tension built in your stomach; the coil winding tight enough to hurt. “Your good girl. I love you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lips pressing against your ear and hot breath washing across your cheek. “You’re going to be good and cum on my cock?”

Gasping your hips rolled down to meet his hands right when he changed angles, shoving right up against the spot that had sparks going down your legs. You couldn’t stop the scream of his name even if you wanted, the coil in your stomach now felt painful as he shoved you higher and higher. Once he realized he’d found right where you needed, he continued that way; thrusting into you in a frenzied manner that could only be described as wild.

“Do it,” he bit out, tightening his hold on your throat even further and slapping your clit to watch your body jolt. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear. “Cum on my cock.”

Your body locked up, walls clenching down so hard that you were practically strangling him. There was no holding back anything anymore. Not when he brought his hand down one more time, slapping your clit and sending you even higher. Wailing his name in a broken voice, you flooded his cock.

He didn’t stop moving, continuing to shove against your g-spot until it became near painful, but he wanted more. He wanted to see you shatter for him again and again until there was nothing left in your body to give. Growling out your name his thrusts became sloppy, stuttering slightly as he reached his own high.

“One more,” he begged, fingers rubbing against your clit until your legs shook. “I want one more. Give it to me please.”

“Bucky! Oh - fuck!” You sagged against him, your walls fluttering around him, the pleasure that rushed through you rendered you immobile, until all you could do was tilt your head enough to watch him.

“Good girl.” Half a dozen more thrusts and he was shoving himself into you until he could go no further and wrapping his arms around you as he flooded your cunt. The warmth of it sent shivers down your spine, causing you to clench around him one more time and milk him completely. “Fuck. I love you. I love you so much.”

The delirium had set in, sinking deep into your body until he had to maneuver you to the floor gently. You moaned softly when he slipped out of you, his and your cum now dripping from your spent cunt. It’s only when his fingers pushed it back into you did you jolt back to reality, focusing once more on the man who licked the remnants off his skin, groaning at the taste.

“Come here,” you said, opening your arms to welcome him into your hold. His body pressed you into the ground, lips attaching to your own as the high began to slowly fade from your bodies.

“I thought I was going to lose you today,” he replied, voice cracking.

Nudging his nose with your own, you ran a hand through his hair and pushed it away from his face. “You didn’t. I’m right here. I’ll always be here.”

“What if you-”

“Bucky look at me.” Blue eyes now cleared of lust met yours. “There’s nothing in this world, not even zombies, that can take me from you. Nothing. I’ve been here since before all of this and I will be here after.”

“You sure?” His tone had shifted into being timid, terrified that one day your words would be nothing but an empty promise. Something that neither of you held control over.

Smiling, you kissed him again. “‘Till death do us part. You die, I die. That’s the deal baby.”

“That’s the deal,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours and letting out a breath; the weight lifting from his shoulders slightly.

There would always be the horrors that lie outside in the city that had now turned into a hunting ground. A place where predators fought against predators, where you fought for your lives, but here...in this small room. This is where you found the broken bits of each other and helped to put them back where they belonged. Where you loved until time itself stopped and orange skies faded into black nights.

[five-rivers]

This is sort of a 'proof of concept' for a story I mentioned a while back.

.

.

Dis was the god of death, but that did not mean he had to attend personally the passing of each mortal, no more than Investa had to attend each flame, or Prosper each blossom. He felt them. He… facilitated them, but he did not have to be there.

It was better that way. He, death, was hated, despised, feared, and Dis could understand why. He was change, the unknown, the end of things.

Understanding didn’t make it feel better. So, he was glad to stay in the Underworld among the ghosts and spirits who had chosen to stay instead of returning to the great cycle, with those who understood the gift of rest, who did not consider him a curse.

But, alas, it could not always be that way. Some deaths… some deaths he had to oversee, he had to witness. Deaths that were important, or blessed, or cursed, or simply unlucky in a very special way, deaths where one of the usual psychopomps had failed their charge and let a ghost slip through their fingers.

This was a case of the last, and the third such time this particular psychopomp had stumbled in such a way. It was strange. Usually, they had more grace than that.

It didn’t matter, in the end. Dis stepped from the shadows and into the light of the overworld, the world of mortals. He breathed in deeply, tasting the scent of flowers and rich, earthy loam on his tongue, the ground beneath his feet giving way just slightly. The leaves of the trees around him rustled, almost fearfully. Their spirits knew what he was. He would have minded more if this place wasn’t so lovely. Perhaps the psychopomp in question was only distracted by it all.

The place to start a search for a ghost was at its corpse. They often returned there, poor confused things, hoping to reinhabit them. He stepped forward, with purpose.

The roots of the trees around him writhed, vines springing up around him. Dis froze, startled. There were very few who would dare to attack him. Few- but a powerful few, and he had felt their hands before. He would not make the mistake of trying to fight back before he knew which one was after him this time. With some of them, it was better to simply surrender.

A cage grew into being around him. The wood was living, but a branch withered and died after it brushed across the exposed skin of his face. It wouldn’t do him much good to rely on that, though. Dead wood was as good as living for making a box. Better, even.

“Who are you?” he called out.

The figure that stepped into view from around the trunks of the trees was much younger than he had expected, though still older than he was himself.

“Lady Prosper?” he asked, confused. He hadn’t thought she hated him so much, not like the others. For new plants to grow, others had to die, after all.

She smiled. “Hello,” she said. “I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better.”

[sirowsky]

The Lonely Castle

Chapter 8 - Heart

Chapter Summary: They may not have a priest or family at hand, but Pero and Ember have chosen each other, and that's enough for them to consider themselves married. Leaving only one thing left to do to seal the deal...

Author's Note: I was a bit horrified at myself when I read this back and realised that it's basically 80% smut. But then I got to the end, and suddenly things returned to normal. (If you've read any of my fics, you know what that means...)

Rating: Explicit 18+ONLY Warnings: cursing, smut, loss of virginity, piv (unprotected), sugary sweetness, monster, historical errors. Word Count: 7824 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

So. Declarations had been made, in words as well as actions, meaning things had irrevocably changed between Pero and Snow, and on top of all that; monsters were very real and terrifyingly powerful and at least one of them could speak. That is; if the damn thing ever decided to come back. While Snow healed, they had little to do but go about their daily lives as usual, because they had no way of knowing when or where the other demons might show up next.

Ash hadn’t returned after it helped them get back to the castle and then left, which was troubling, since it had clearly stated itself to be in need of assistance. It had been the middle of the night when it took off, and by its own account, the others came under the cover of darkness, so what if they had taken it? If their ally was in trouble, they would have no way of knowing it, nor any hope of aiding the creature. Thus, all they could do was wait. Snow healed well, and after a few days she was more or less back to normal function, if with a slight grimace when she moved her arm in certain angles. She was still terribly sceptical of all things demon, though, and Pero understood why. Her perspective was one of fear, as both creatures they’d met had either seriously frightened, or tried to harm her, and she didn’t have the advantage of being able to communicate with one of them. He’d given her a detailed account of everything he could remember from having been taken, and they’d had plenty of conversations about it, trying to work out just what it might all be about, but repeatedly falling short. Today, though, the discussion took an unexpected turn.

“Please, don’t tell me that you actually trust that thing, Pero.”

“Trust would perhaps be a stretch. I’m willing to listen to it, based on what its already told me, and the fact that it wilfully put itself in danger to help you, at my request. At the very least, I have to consider that it wouldn’t do that only to then try and kill us.”

“It’s a demon, how could we possibly know what it might decide, or even feel compelled to do?”

“Well, what’s the alternative? We can’t fight them, at least not without first learning more about them.”

“Or we could run.”

His eyebrows lifted as he heard that, and he turned from the fire he was tending, to look at her. Ember Fletcher, the woman that never surrendered, never gave up, never allowed herself to be bullied by anyone, was suggesting fleeing from a fight? She read his expression and scowled in return.

“You said it yourself; we can’t fight them.”

“No. But I really don’t think that Ash would’ve done all this if it didn’t truly need us.”

“See, that’s the part I really don’t get. You saw what it did to that wolf-demon. Ash was the one that set it on fire, and yet it claims to need your help to defeat them… Explain that logic to me.”

The thought had occurred to him as well, but he still felt that there was too much they didn’t know, to have any hope of understanding the larger picture.

“I can’t. But remember, we only learned of the mere existence of such beings a month ago, I’m certain that we have a hopelessly inadequate comprehension of these creatures, and that we shouldn’t make any decisions until we at least have a basic grasp of what’s actually happening.”

“Fine. But mark my words; at some point in the near future, I am going to say the words ‘I told you so’.”

“Well, while you await the opportunity, this kettle is the last of it. Your bath is ready, my lady.”

“I’ll try and be quick, so it’ll still be warm for you.”

“No, take your time. I’ll be fine.”

He left the dining room and headed upstairs to give her some privacy. It had now been four days since the fight in the woods, and while they had shared more kisses, and stayed snuggled up together at night, Snow’s injury and the lingering threat of monsters on their doorstep, meant that nothing else had happened yet. Though, not from lack of desire. Snow was formidable in that regard as well as all others. She made no secret of the cravings that stirred within her when they were close, and had she gotten her way, their union would already have been consummated, multiple times. It was he that had held them back, and not just because he wanted her to heal first. But because she wasn’t just some woman he wanted, like the one’s in the past, and he refused to treat her as he had them. For her, he would be clean, beard shaven and trimmed, and the dirt carved from under his nails. For her, no effort was too taxing, and no wait was too long.

The warm water did wonders for Ember’s sore and battered body, and it wasn’t until she felt it’s soothing effects that she truly appreciated how much her form had been made to endure in these past four months. It was as though it didn’t just wash away the sweat and dirt and general grime, but the worries and fears and tension inside of her too. She hadn’t enjoyed a warm bath in several years, only swimming in the river in summertime, and keeping to the normal washing routines in winter, so this felt luxurious and special. She’d been surprised when Pero had suggested it, as she hadn’t seen any trough large enough to be used for it, around the castle. But he’d moved some things in the basement to reveal a good-sized wooden tub, turned upside down and used as a shelf. Dusty and filled with cobwebs, but still intact. Still, it had seemed superfluous, hauling all the snow inside to thaw, not to mention a waste of firewood to heat it all, but once he’d explained that he wanted to be clean for her, she’d found it impossible to argue against him. She was close to catching on fire every night when he curled up to her, and every kiss had her almost unwittingly pressing herself against him, looking for relief, and she’d openly cursed his patience more than once over the past few days, when he had determinedly kept her advances at bay. If this was what it took for him to feel comfortable being with her, she’d oblige him. She scrubbed her skin with a cotton cloth, to make sure she got all the dirt off, and then laid back to let her hair soak in the water for a bit, before combing through it with her fingers a few times. She didn’t hurry, but she didn’t dawdle either, and once she was back in the undershirt she’d borrowed from him, as hers had been destroyed by the wolf-thing, she called to Pero to let him know that she was done. When he came downstairs, he had a small clay-pot in his hands. Rounded at the bottom, and narrowing into a short neck with a wooden cork at the top. It was small enough that his large hands could’ve completely concealed it, had he wanted to, but instead he handed it to her with a careful smile. She took it with a questioning brow, and his smile widened at the now familiar expression.

“It’s oil from the south, made from small fruits called olives. Put a few drops in your hands and rub them together, and then run them through your hair thoroughly. It will help clean it, and keep it from tangling.”

That really surprised her, and she openly gawked at him.

“How did you get oil of such quality? I’ve hardly ever heard of it even passing through here. If you’d sold this in Hallen you could’ve afforded a dozen pelts along with our goods.”

“It was payment for a contract I fulfilled, long ago. I rightly should’ve sold it, there were more than one occasion when doing so would’ve spared me from nearly dying. I just never could bring myself to do it. But no matter how it came to be here, it’s now yours, mi sueño.”

“Thank you so much, my love.”

His smile softened at her words, and she suddenly had to remind herself that she was supposed to leave him alone for his bath then. She went upstairs, as he had done for her, and stepped into the bedroom, stopping once she’d crossed the threshold, because of the sight that met her. Apparently, his hands had not been idle while he was up there. The room was tidied of all littered scrap that had been left in corners to accumulate into piles of rubbish, and he had even cleaned the floors, and the windows. He’d also rearranged the bedding of fir branches, so that there was no dividing line between their beds, and instead just one large pit for them both to lay in. He really was adamant about making certain this union would be as perfect as their circumstances would allow. With neither of them having any family to provide dowry, home or income, they were going to have to forge their own marriage. Which they largely already had, with their vows already spoken and their promises for the future of their relationship, well and truly determined. The land they occupied had been long since abandoned, so barring any far removed relative showing up to stake a claim, their home was their own, and as for income… Well, they were both highly skilled at their chosen crafts, so should they find themselves in dire need of coin, there were ways for them to procure it. Whether or not they’d be safe doing so, was a different matter. She tended to the fire before she sat down on the edge of the bed, and opened the cork of the little pot of oil, letting a small amount drip onto her fingertips. It felt so smooth and rich against her skin, and when she did as Pero had suggested, even though there was so little of it on her hands, she could feel how it spread through her damp hair, giving it a softness unlike anything she’d felt before. Pero took a considerable amount of time with his bath, though. Perhaps it was only her excited anticipation that made her perceive time to pass so unbearably slowly, but when the room had gone dark, and she’d had to refuel the fire twice, she began to wonder if he could’ve possibly changed his mind. She had just gotten up, thinking she’d go to the stairs and listen for him, when the doorhandle suddenly moved, and a moment later, the door slowly swung open, before he hesitantly stepped inside, closing it behind him while meeting her eyes with trepidation. She actually gasped at the sight of him. He’d trimmed the unruly curls on his head, surprisingly well considering he’d done it unaided, but then, he’d probably had to do that many times before. And the beard that had been long enough to obscure his throat, though not long enough to reach his chest, had now been almost completely removed, save for a moustache adorning his upper lip, and a little scruff left on his chin. This change, coupled with the dirt scrubbed off of his face, meant that he now looked so much younger, and even the brown of his eyes seemed brighter. He was beautiful. But her lack of response to his entrance seemed to make him insecure, and his gaze darted about the room when he spoke next.

“You don’t like it?”

The sadness in his voice made her wake up from her shocked but reverent stare, and she approached him, not stopping until his face was mere inches from her own, and she could study him intently, learning his features all over again.

“I’m merely stunned into silence by your beauty, sir. Why ever have you hidden from me until now?”

His eyes virtually snapped back to find hers, and it was pure incredulity that stared back at her when she met them. Instead of speaking, his mouth took to explaining his feelings by touch, connecting first to her cheek with gratitude, and then her lips, with a searing heat which she eagerly reciprocated, pushing herself flush against him and relishing in the warmth of his arms as his broad frame enveloped her. He’d been so careful not to provoke her obvious reactions to him any further, until that moment, and when he allowed his own restraint to fall away, she could feel a passion from him that was unmatched, even by her own. Finally, she could allow her heat to blossom, and cave to her desires, knowing he wouldn’t reject her or find her behaviour inappropriate, and it was as though something came alive inside of her, set free by the knowledge that she was wanted. Any thoughts of embarrassment were suddenly nowhere to be found, and all she wanted was just to be with him. To be his. His hands were warm and somehow both gentle and firm as they explored her back, and then travelled down to the swell of her bottom, tugging her forwards to let her feel how he hardened for her. How he desired her. No longer holding anything back. He felt so good against her pulsing sex, craving attention like never before, making her hips jut forwards in search of more, and being utterly pleased when he started grinding himself against her. Stars appeared behind her eyes with the explosion of sensations from her core, and lewd sounds erupted from her throat with the sudden pounding of her heart causing her blood to boil. His mouth moved to kiss her neck and allow them both to breathe a little easier, while his arms tightened around her waist to hold her in place as he backed her towards the bed. When she felt the edge of it against her calves, he stopped, and pulled back to look at her, while his hands grabbed fistfuls of his borrowed shirt that hung loosely over her form.

“May I?”

She just nodded breathlessly, and lifted her arms as he pulled the garment up and off of her in one fluid movement. She stood there, completely bare to his scrutiny, as his eyes drank her in, and if she’d had any doubts concerning whether he’d like what he’d see, they vanished in a single heartbeat. Because his desire appeared to have doubled when he found her eyes once more. He grabbed the front of his own shirt, and held it out to her, wanting her to be the one that exposed him. He was half a head taller than her, so he had to help her with the last bit, but once he too was bare, she schooled herself to look first at his broad shoulders and chest, mapping his scars and briefly wondering how he’d come to have so many, before moving down to look upon his rigid manhood, the first she’d ever seen. She gulped involuntarily. How was all that supposed to fit inside of her? No wonder the women of his past had screamed… His hand came under her chin, lifting her head so that she’d meet his eyes, and there was concern in his brow, making her realise that her own expression had shifted from pleasure to fear.

“Listen to me now, mi sueño. I am not going to impale you. I regret ever using such a crude expression at all. I’m going to prepare your body for this, so that none of it will be unpleasant, because I want you to keep wanting me after tonight, and I want you to feel only pleasure from my touch and my body. So please, trust me. And don’t be afraid to speak. Tell me if you’re uncertain, or if something doesn’t feel right. I will listen, you have my word.”

She hesitated. On the one hand, she did believe him, but on the other, she still couldn’t fathom how her body could possibly accommodate his size. But he’d asked her to voice her concerns, so there was no reason she shouldn’t.

“I believe you, it’s just… are all men like that? In size, I mean.”

“No. It varies from man to man, in both size and shape. But I am by no means the largest one can be.”

“It can be even bigger?!”

“Yes.”

“Fuck…”

He didn’t speak again, instead he just gave her a moment to absorb this information, which she greatly appreciated. She took a deep breath, shaking her head a little, mostly at herself, because women had done this for ages, so naturally, it should be possible.

“Okay. Okay, so… how do you prepare me?”

His face broke into an adoring smile at that, and he stepped closer again, letting one hand stroke her abdomen, before travelling down to her core, and gently caressing her most sensitive spot, instantly making the heat inside of her flare back to roaring life. She inhaled sharply, and then her head fell forwards against his shoulder as the rapture surged through her, at his skilful manipulation of her senses.

“By giving you more pleasure than you ever believed possible.”

His hand disappeared, but was almost instantly replaced by his thick shaft, dragging against the entirety of her sex, undoubtedly poking out behind her as his hips connected with hers, before he pulled back again, now coated in her wetness. He repeated the motion several times, and every movement made her legs tremble with how good it felt, not just against her wet flesh, but against the insides of her thighs as well, as though there were parts of her core that rippled out into those limbs too. His warm, calloused hands, came up to squeeze and fondle her breasts, sending even more tendrils of pleasure through her, and suddenly she felt the pressure inside that meant that she was about to finish.

“Oh… wait… I…”

But he didn’t stop. He pushed her over the edge, and then held her steady as her legs quivered precariously with her release.

“Don’t worry. I’m only warming you up, there’s more to come.”

Her body had gone limp, and she couldn’t have answered even if she’d felt the need to, which she didn’t, because what could she possibly reply to that? How could there be more? He guided her down to the bed and stood over her on all fours, while he watched her breathing calm, appearing to admire seeing her body react to the sensations he was lavishing her with. Then his mouth was suddenly on her left breast, licking and kissing his way around the nipple, nudging the hardened bud with his nose before taking it in his mouth and letting his tongue play with it. His hands never left her skin, squeezing and massaging her sides, hips, thighs, moving up behind her shoulders to lift her chest up into his mouth. By the time he’d given the same attention to her right breast as well, she was panting again, already craving more. How was that possible? For a moment, she got disoriented when he suddenly disappeared, and no part of his body was in contact with hers anymore, so she lifted her head to find out where he’d gone, and then had to stifle another gasp when she saw his head drop down between her legs. She couldn’t, however, hold back her reaction when his mouth connected to her core. She moaned, loudly, and felt her hands close around fistfuls of hair on the pelt underneath her, as her back arched off of the bed and her hips seemed to move of their own accord, wanting more of him. And he quickly obliged, pushing one thick finger into her opening, and then after a while, another one. She felt herself stretch to accommodate him, and finally began to understand what he’d meant about preparing her. Her juices soaked his fingers as he let them slide in and out slowly, all while continuing to lick and suck on her sensitive little bud, nestled into her flesh, until she unravelled for him a second time. It was quite extraordinary, how different it felt when his fingers were inside her while she coiled and writhed at his ministrations, and it took her mind forward in time, wondering how the real thing would feel. She had barely even begun to come back down, when he added a third finger, making her growl with the sensory overload.

“Ember… are you alright?”

“I don’t know… how I could possibly take any more…”

He slipped his fingers out of her, and came back to standing on all fours over her, his head right above hers.

“If you want me to stop, I will.”

She looked at his face, his mouth wet with her juices, and his eyes alight with his passion. But, despite how obvious his desire was for her, there was nothing forceful or demanding about his expression. He would forgo his own pleasure, if she asked him, and that knowledge nearly brought tears to her eyes. Because she’d always had the impression of men as being quite savage in their love-making, even her mother had hinted as much about her kind and gentle father, and that was a prospect which had always frightened her. Pero himself had proclaimed his own practice as a lover to be of the rougher sort, and yet here he was, treating her like a precious jewel, more important to him than even his own satisfaction.

“No. I trust you. If you tell me that my body can do this, then I believe you.”

Her voice held no trace of doubt, and a warm smile made his eyes wrinkle as he lowered himself down on top of her. His lips found hers once more, while his hips once again familiarised themselves with hers, and his hard length pushed against her mound in delicious slow circles. Her hands found his lower back and made a home for themselves there, holding him to her while he rocked into her, building that rapture up within her for a third time, even though she couldn’t understand how it was possible. When he pulled back, and reached down to manoeuvre himself against her folds, in order to better coat his cock with her gushing wetness, she kept holding on to him, as though she feared she might float away. But then his tip nudged her entrance, and she unintentionally tensed, making him pause.

“Relax, mi sueño. You’re ready, but I’ll proceed slowly, and allow you to adjust, however you will need to let me in.”

She wanted to, but the fear of pain instinctively made her attempt to keep him out. To help her body along, he massaged her breasts and abdomen, while tickling her neck and jaw with kisses, licks and nibbles, distracting her from the fact that his impressive manhood was inching further and further into her core. He pulled back between every tiny push in, so that her cunt was gradually opened to him, and he did it so perfectly that she didn’t feel any discomfort at all. She felt the stretch, but it happened so slowly that it only managed to further increase the sensation of pleasure, especially with the knowledge that she was connecting to the man she loved above all else, in the deepest and most intimate way a person could. Once he was seated inside her, he stopped moving, and kissed her thoroughly, before leaning his forehead against hers, and just breathing with her for a moment. She could feel her core adjust to him, pulsing with heat and the strain of the unfamiliar experience, but also the tremendously satisfying sensation of being filled with him. Her desire only rose the longer he waited, until her walls were trembling against him, begging him to move. He could feel it, and eagerly gave her what she needed. Despite how careful he’d been, she still couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to fit inside of her, but when he pulled back and gently plunged back in the first time, she abruptly decided that he actually fit her quite perfectly. He felt amazing. Every movement tickled or pleasured some part of her, and before long she was lost in the purity of the feeling, seeing only stars before her eyes and existing only in what her body was experiencing, in each infinitesimal second. But she was finally also joined in her experience, by his rapture. She could feel it in every inch of his body that connected to hers. How he wanted nothing more than to keep diving into her wet and welcoming softness, keep driving her to her peak, and live in this land of absolute pleasure for as long as possible. But it was also so much more than physical. Things passed between them, in their every touch, that she couldn’t have found words for even if she’d had the strength of mind to attempt it. She wanted so dearly to repay him for his delectable treatment of her body, not to mention the reverence with which he’d taken her virginity, but she was just too overwhelmed, and much too ignorant of these matters, to know how.

Pero was in heaven. There was no other explanation that could possibly come close to describing what this Amazon of a woman was doing to him. He was by no means inexperienced, which he was certain his treatment of her had made clear, and yet, he felt as though every sensation was new. Every touch seemed to hold more power and pleasure than he’d known before, as though her body serenaded his with pure seduction, in return for the ecstasy he gave to her. Her eyes remained closed, her head tilted back with her deep and forceful breaths, and her hands seemed to move on their own, exploring his body and looking for the spots that would generate reactions of pleasure from him. He didn’t want it to end, but he also desperately wanted to spill his seed into her womb, already dreaming of the possibilities for their shared future, completely forgetting about the dangers that lurked around them, now that his mind was filled with only her. Her scent, her taste, her touch… Fuck, she really was intoxicating. And there was something truly special about knowing that he was the only one that had or ever would get to know this delightful secret of hers. This fantastical ability she possessed, to make his heart break open and leak its sappy and adorable, and most vulnerable contents, into the surrounding world. He had never taken anyone’s virginity before, but he doubted that anyone else could’ve reached the parts of him that his Snow now had. Parts he’d hidden and locked away, thinking no one would ever see. Things not even William had known. And he wanted her to see and hear and know all of it, every dirty secret, every terrifying fear, every unfulfilled wish and broken dream. How was it possible that simply being wanted and loved, could make him so soft and breakable all of a sudden? Had he actually always been, but just never known it? He felt her body begin to coil with that special kind of tension that only sexual satisfaction could draw from any creature, as she neared her peak, and he stopped holding himself back, so that he could follow her into that soaring cloud of absolute bliss. Their rhythm faltered, and he had to rise onto his hands by her head, to weigh down his hips enough to keep her from expelling him from her quivering core with how strongly her climax made her squirm and writhe underneath him. Meanwhile, his own peak found heights he’d never even dreamt of before, and he couldn’t stop himself from jutting into her, again and again, as his seed filled her until there simply wasn’t room for more, causing it to trickle out past his softening length, each time he rolled his hips into hers. Her breathless gasps turned into mewls of delight and satisfaction, and once she stilled, she reached for him to settle down on top of her again, wrapping her arms around him as he did. And suddenly, he understood why he’d taken to being so rough with the women he’d paid to endure his quests for relief, in the past. It was because he hadn’t loved them. Because in the absence of emotion, his body had needed convincing to get to that release. And even though he’d never harmed or degraded them, the fact that he’d needed to basically spear them on his cock in order to coax even minimal amounts of pleasure out of himself, now shamed him. In the beginning, when corporal pleasures where still new to him, he’d allowed the experienced older women of the trade to teach him, and he’d been so easily seduced and excited by them back then, that he hadn’t needed more than their undivided attention in order to fulfil his desires, and he’d revelled in the knowledge of how to make them squirm for him. But with time, and the hardening of his soul from the scars that both it, and his body had endured, that boyish excitement had faded into dark pits. Places from which he had never thought it could return. Ever since he was a boy, running from his home and everything he’d ever known, he’d quickly learned to cling to anger and forcefulness, in order to survive the harshness of the world, and had he not; he’d

likely been dead long ago. But if, somewhere in the midst of it all, he’d just allowed himself to feel more than that, if he’d attempted to do more than just survive from one day to the next, he might’ve known the empowering effect of softness and true intimacy, before this moment. Before Snow. He still couldn’t decide which name he liked better, as they both suited her so well. She always seemed to burn, somewhere inside, but not in a raging inferno. More like a pot of oil, kept simmering at all times, needing only a single ember to land in that heat, to set it ablaze with a fury. But she was also like a cool, calming blanket to his own fire. Like a fresh coat of snow over the landscape of his being, she could dampen his temper, weigh down his defences until they crumbled, and grind him to a halt with stunning beauty and a remarkable capacity to make even the darkest and ugliest of things look bright and wondrous. Each other’s opposites, the two names reflected the opposing sides of her person, both so impressive, and equally needed for her to be the woman that she was, making it impossible for him to decide between them. She had nearly fallen asleep when he shifted on top of her, turning his head to the side so that he could kiss her cheek, while letting his arms tighten along her sides.

“Thank you.”

She slowly returned to the waking world, drawn through her blissful exhaustion by the sound of his voice. But once her eyes fell open, and sought his, she looked puzzled.

“What?”

It sounded as though she hadn’t perceived his words, so he tried again, now that she was more awake.

“Thank you.”

She blinked a few times, looking utterly confused.

“You’re thanking me? Whatever for? All I did was lay here… Surely any and all gratitude should be mine to give to you.”

“Certainly not. As I’ve mentioned; I’m not very fluid with words, but I scarcely believe I could find any to do justice to what I feel in this moment, even if I were a poet. Just know that I will never be able to thank you enough.”

“But… I’ve done nothing.”

“You’ve given me your heart, and now every other part of you as well, which is already far more than a man like me could ever ask for. But there’s so much more happening to me right now, because of you… I just don’t have the words… I feel as though I’ve been reborn, into the man I was always meant to be. And I owe that to you, Snow.”

She studied him closely, examining his words and trying to understand his reasoning. But then she seemed to decide that it no longer mattered.

“If I’ve made you happy, my beloved, then the reasons are inconsequential. My gratitude to you is equally indescribable, for the care you’ve taken with my body, and the tenderness with which you’ve claimed my innocence. So, if neither of us have adequate words at hand, then let’s just leave the subject with the knowledge that we are evenly matched in our ignorance, as well as our affection.”

He smiled at her, and nodded in agreement, before slipping free of her constricting core, and settling on his side next to her, tugging her snugly into his chest and feeling another burst of warmth in his heart, when she reached for him, wanting to hold him every bit as much as he did her.

Ember woke the following morning to gentle kisses, and a moustache, tickling her forehead and nose, and even before she was fully aware of it, she smiled, for no reason other than that she was too happy not to. Her body was heavy, and her eyelids too, so she let them remain closed while she coaxed her limbs awake enough to snuggle closer to her Pero, searching for his lips with her own, and mumbling unintelligibly in her delight at finding them. She felt him smile into the kiss, and calloused hands stroked her back.

“Are you actually speaking, sueño? Because if so, I think your mouth is broken.”

“I’m making happy sounds, so shut up before they become unhappy.”

He chuckled softly, and kissed her again.

“Understood.”

For a while, they just laid there, drifting between dream and reality, content to forget everything else and simply relish in each other, and what they now shared.

“How do you feel, Snow? Your body, I mean.”

She had to move a little in order to find out, tensing her muscles to test their functionality.

“Kind of… rigid. Like after a long run, or full day chopping wood. I wouldn’t have thought love-making would equal something so strenuous.”

“It engages every limb and every muscle, in a very unique way, so I would expect you to feel the effects of that. I was more concerned with your cunt.”

“Oh. Um…”

“If you’re not sore I’ll be most astonished. I just hope you’re not in any serious pain.”

She remembered his words from the night before, about wanting her to feel only pleasure from him, so that she’d keep wanting his touch and his body. She looked up at his face, to find his eyes closed and a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t feel any pain, don’t worry. I absolutely still want you.”

“But you are sore, yes?”

“Yes.”

Strangely, her admitting that seemed to ease his concerns, and he shifted his head forwards, blindly looking for something to kiss and finding her forehead again.

“I love you so much, Snow. I’ll never understand how you can love me in return, but I will always be grateful to you. And I’ll always do my best to give you anything you want or need; I promise you that.”

“I make the same promise to you, my love.”

He finally opened his eyes and looked at her, and there was still so much incredulity behind his enormous affection, but there was also a warm smile in his eyes.

“Well, even without asking I know what you need in this particular moment. And while it might not be what either of us want, I do need it too.”

“Let me guess; breakfast?”

“Indeed.”

Without pause, she threw the blankets off of herself, shivering slightly as the cold air washed over her, but relishing in the way his eyes widened and his nostrils flared at the sight of her naked form in the bright morning light, when she rose from the bed and reached for her shirt. He smiled in earnest while he sat up to unabashedly let his eyes roam over her as she got dressed, and then handed him his clothes. Downstairs, she headed for the fireplace first, while he went to the basement for food. They worked together without need for words to be spoken, as a kind of familiarity had now settled into the space between them, with their physical union having removed all forms of barriers from their shared lives. And once the meal was ready, they sat in front of the fire to eat, rather than move to the table, because on the pelt on the floor they could sit close, lean on each other and continue to steal touches as they pleased. Ember was amazed at how dissimilar her own body suddenly felt. It was no different that morning than it had been in the more than thirty years she’d come to know it, and yet, it behaved and felt unlike what she was used to. It was a subtle change, noticeable only in the periphery of her senses, but it was unmistakeable all the same. She had never felt better. Pero finished before her, and got up to return to the kitchen. She assumed that he was getting more bread, or perhaps refilling his cup of water, but he returned without either, instead holding a parcel. It was the same one that she’d brought in from the carrier that terrible day, when the black demon revealed itself to have followed them home after its initial attack. She’d forgotten all about it in the chaos that had ensued, leaving it on the floor in the kitchen thinking she’d ask him about it if and when opportunity arose, only to have it completely slip her mind. He sat down, and then handed it to her.

“When we were in Hallen, I saw this at a tradesman’s desk, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect it seemed for you. So, once I had everything else, and knew that my coin would suffice, I went back and bought it. I felt silly afterwards, because I knew that I’d bought it thinking it would make a good wedding-gift, even though I didn’t believe I’d ever have the privilege. But now, here we are.”

Stunned into silence by his confession, she merely held the parcel as she listened, feeling her heart swell with affection at the knowledge that even back then, when they were scarcely even friends, he’d dreamed of marrying her. She untied the string which held the package together, and carefully opened up the hemp covering, sucking in a surprised breath when the item was revealed. It was a cloak. But unlike any she’d seen or could ever hope to fabricate herself. The body of it was made of wool for warmth, but covered with a layer of silk on the outside, all of which had been dyed a deep green, lighter than the needles of a fir, but darker than grass. But it was also littered in embroidered flowers and feathers, made with a thin white silk thread, while the neck of it was covered with rare white reindeer fur, sewn down over the shoulders and upper back for added warmth. And into the fur, actual white feathers, the likes of which she’d never seen, had been attached, creating something of a mild plume fanning out from around the bearer’s neck, with smaller feathers closest to the skin, but getting progressively larger over the shoulders. They had to come from swans, as the largest ones were the length of her entire forearm. A steel clasp had been made to secure the garment at the front, polished to shine like the stars themselves.

“Pero… You could give this to a queen without fear of its inadequacy. You can’t possibly mean to give me this?”

“You are the only Queen to which I swear my allegiance, so actually, it would seem no more than proper.”

“But it’s too much. How could you even afford this; just how much coin do you have?”

“Not much now. Not that it matters, we’re both skilled enough to lend our services should the need for coin become dire, but with your masterful hunting abilities, I doubt we shall ever go hungry regardless.”

“But I have nothing for y-…”

He cut her off with a hand on her chin, pulling her mouth to his for a soft kiss, and then holding her face close while he spoke in a mere whisper against her lips.

“It’s yours. For no greater reason than that I want it to be. Not because I feel I need to buy you, as so many men do with the arrangements made between parents, giving the betrothed no choice of their own. I want you to have this only because it suits you, and perhaps because it would make me proud to see you in something so befitting your status, as I see it. Please, accept it.”

Entirely intoxicated by his closeness, and the deep timbre of his voice, all she could do was nod, before seeking his lips once more, but hungrier than he had sought hers. Heat was pooling in her center, building quickly into a fire that already rivalled the one beside them, and before she was aware she’d made the choice to, she was suddenly on his lap, seeking that sweet hardness against her core, even through her trousers. But his response, while warm and inviting, was less than she’d hoped for.

“Calm yourself, mi sueño, you are not yet ready to take me again.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

“Not when I very much can hurt you, if we’re not careful. And I will never let that happen, no matter how strong your desire.”

She pulled back, and slumped a little in his lap, but his arms tightened around her in response.

“But if you’re truly craving, I can help give you some relief.”

She considered that. But his hands or mouth, skilled and pleasant as they were, wasn’t what she truly wanted. Not now when she’d felt what his cock could do for her.

“No, I’ll rather wait for all of you.”

He smiled, a little brazenly.

“I must’ve done truly well, then, if you’ve already come to prefer my sword to every other part of me.”

She smirked in return.

“Yes, well, perhaps there isn’t that much else desirable about your grumpy old self.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his mockingly shocked expression, as he identified her playful undertone, and promptly decided to play along.

“I’ll just have to show you how wrong you are, then.”

But before he could, the front door burst open and Ash practically flooded the room with its dark mass, as it squeezed through the narrow opening in less time than what seemed possible for such a large creature. She flinched with fear and shock, grasping at Pero and scrambling to move away from the intruder. But beyond quickly helping her to get off of his lap, he didn’t move at all. He just met the demon’s eyes, until something seemed to overwhelm him, and he slumped where he sat.

Ash flooded Pero’s system the moment it entered the room, filling the air with its vibrations, and he could instantly feel how stressed the beast was. His heart was being pounded by the forcefulness of its strange communication, to such an extent that he doubled over and had to close his eyes against the pulsing waves. It was clearly driven to such increased intensity by a dire threat of some sort, meaning that something bad must be going on.

“Mmuuussst… leeeeave.”

“What’s happening?”

“Thheeeyy… aaarre cooommminnng.”

Its urgency increased even more, making the vibrations truly painful to endure, and he had to force his words out in strained huffs.

“Wh-y would… they… c-come here?”

Concerned by the way he sounded, Snow pulled him into her arms, undoubtedly trying to shield him, and he felt her flinch as the vibrations suddenly carried over to her. He doubted that she could hear the creature through him, but her skin was sensitive enough to perceive what was happening to him, and it only made her grip on him tighten.

“Fooor… yyoooouu.”

What? That made no sense, why would the others be coming for him? What was it that made him important to their war, or whatever this was? The vibrations were abruptly cut off when Ash broke eye-contact with him, and Pero looked up to see what it was doing, only to freeze in fear when he saw its mouth break open, revealing its impossibly sharp teeth, as black as the rest of it, before it came at him, closing its jaws over the same shoulder it had bitten him in before. He felt the teeth sink into his skin and flesh, but then something more was cutting through him, in almost the same places, but not quite. He screamed with the agonising pain, even as he remembered that his scars held a double set of teeth, while he’d only seen one set in the demon’s mouth before it bit down. Somehow, the second row must be concealed in the roof and bottom of its mouth, coming out only after it closed its jaws around its prey, or perhaps simply at will. He couldn’t remember if he’d felt any secondary pain when Ash had bitten him the first time, but those had been vastly different circumstances, and he likely wouldn’t have noticed such a detail among the many other sensations which had plagued him in that incident. Whatever the case might be, he was certain that both rows now remained seated in his body, as he felt something being pumped into his blood, and with each passing moment, he felt heavier and heavier, until he fell to the floor, and the surrounding world faded away. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that Snow was screaming and fighting for him, and the last thought which passed through his poisoned mind, was the hope that Ash wouldn’t harm her for trying to protect him. That he had been right to place a modicum of trust in the beast, and that it understood that he would never help it, if he woke up to find his wife in anything but her normal perfect state.

His wife.

***************

Link to Chapter 9

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day/night!

@sarahjkl82-blog @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @hounding-around @tobealostwanderer @deadhumourist @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @dihra-vesa @feminist-violinist @lowlights

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Talk

Another fanfic commission for @presidentstalkeyes! Thank you so much for the help!

Like everyone in Gravity Falls, Wendy is a little different. Unfortunately that resulted in fight on the way to work one day.

~~~~~~~~~~

Soos sang a little song under his breath as he drilled a creepy fish to the wall. “Doo, de, doo doo, drilling a creepy fish to a wall, doo, de, doo doo.”

It was the last week of school, which meant nice weather and a handful of busy moments, due to kids it of school, field trips to celebrate the end of the year, and occasional parents trying to enjoy their last bit of freedom while they could, but also a lot of slow moments to get things done around the Mystery Shack, preparing for the busiest and best season for tourists.

Soos loved to work at the Mystery Shack! He loved the oddities, he loved his boss, and he also loved his co-worker. She usually just read magazines at the cash register, but she was somebody to talk to and she was funny, even if she did sometimes freak Soos out with her rule breaking.

The handyman looked at the clock and it was time for Wendy to arrive! Soos continued to work but kept his ears and eyes peeled for his favorite redhead (sorry Dan). A few minutes later, boots walked on wood and Soos smiled at the door.

“What’s up dude?!” He greeted warmly.

Normally Wendy would do a goofy handshake with Soos, or crack a joke, or even smile. But not today.

Today she shrugged, muttered, “‘Sup,” and clocked in, then sat behind the register and opened a magazine.

Soos stepped down and put his drill away. “Whoa, dude, you okay?”

“M’fine.” Wendy said, her cheek being squished by her knuckles.

“You sure? Do you need a cup of coffee? Did your dad get on your case again? Oh… is it your time of the month? I put painkillers and pads in the bathroom once Mr. Pines hired you…”

“DUDE!” Wendy yelled, fire coming from her very soul.

Soos put his hands up in surrender and began to panic. “No wait I didn’t mean it like that!”

“No, Soos,” Wendy scolded, calmer when she understood his intentions were pure. “I’m fine, I swear. Okay?”

Soos smiled kindly, glad to see he didn’t upset his friend too badly. “Okay, dawg, no worries.”

“Thanks.” Wendy hollered as Soos walked out the door, but as he watched Wendy turn a page, the handyman saw something that shocked him so bad he took a leaf out of Abuelita’s book.

“Dios mio, uno momento.” Soos said and went up to Wendy, who lowered her magazine and smiled slyly at her work buddy.

“Whoa, where’d that come from…”

“Wendy, gimme…” Soos gently grabbed her hand and looked down the back of her arm. Two fresh bruises form underneath her freckles, making Soos scowl for the first time in Wendy’s life.

Her fear of what Soos saw met with the impressive smug of seeing Soos anything but happy. “Dude, let go, it’s not a big deal.” She said calmly.

Soos let her go and asked quietly, “Who did that?”

“No one…”

Soos winced as a guess came to mind. “Was it Kinzie?”

Wendy barked a laugh. “They should lay a scratch on me!” She declared proudly, jabbing a thumb at herself.

“Was it that guy you were talking to? Mark? Did he hurt you?! ¡Si alguna vez lo veo, lo destrozaré pieza por pieza!”

“Dude, chill! It wasn’t him!” Wendy clarified, rubbing her arm. “Just some jerk at school who kept asking why I 'pretend' to be a girl if I don't 'act' like one or something stupid.” She muttered, her eyes downcasted, and Soos scowled.

“Dude…”

“It’s not a big deal. I won the fight, I’ll serve detention until school’s up, which is only a few days, and it just some stupid bruises. Who cares?” Wendy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I kinda do.” Soos reminded her, his beefy arms crossed over his chest. “That’s not cool. They shouldn’t have…”

“Soos, it’s cool.” Wendy said firmly with a smile. “Just don’t tell Mr. Pines, okay? He wouldn’t get it.”

“Aw, dawg, he’s not like that…”

“Soos I’m asking as a friend.” Wendy said, desperation seeping into her voice. “Please. Just keep this to yourself. Cool?”

Soos swallowed and nodded, letting his arms fall back on his sides. “Yeah… cool…”

“Cool.” And Wendy resumed her magazine.

The “Employees Only” door opened and Mr. Pines adjusted his tie. “Alright, it’s after school, so we might get a tour or two in before closing. Soos, go make some signs so they can dry overnight and we can put them up later.”

“You got it, boss!” Soos saluted and went off to work.

“Wendy! Put on a half-smile and price the pine tree hats to twenty dollars!”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my face.” Wendy warned darkly, walking up to the hats with a clipboard and marker in hand.

Stan laughed and slapped his knee. “This gal! I like your moxie, kid.” And he greeted a handful of tourists and began his tour of the Mystery Shack.

The afternoon was pretty productive. After the first tour and a good amount of money made with merchandise, Mr. Mystery actually had enough tourists to justify another tour, which finished up right before closing, giving the guests enough time to buy something.

Stan waved the last group away, grinning, and he closed the door and flipped the sign from “open” to “close”. He clapped his hands and rubbed them, declaring, “Okay, Corduroy, sweep the gift shop while I count the register.”

“‘K.” Wendy said, jumping down from her stool, stretching her arms, then grabbing the broom and doing her last task for the day.

Thanks to Stan’s hearing aid, he wasn’t deaf yet, which meant he picked up the important parts of Soos and Wendy’s conversation before walking into the gift shop. The old conman was no stranger to getting into fight in order to defend someone, so he totally understood where Wendy was coming from and why she was keeping it on the down-low. What Stan couldn’t quite let go was the reason why she insisted on keeping her boss in the dark, and that wasn’t going to fly. If she was going to keep working here, she needed to know she could trust Stan (to some degree).

Pretending he just now noticed the bruises on her arm, he asked casually, “So what happened to your arm, kid?”

Wendy asked for a moment, but shrugged off her initial shock and continued sweeping. “Nothing, just punched a jerk and they punched back.”

“Gotcha. Well, better your arm than your face, right?” Stan said as he counted the cash in his hand.

Wendy snorted with a smile. “Right.”

“Some kid making fun of you?” He asked as casually as possible, as if asking what the weather was going to be tomorrow.

“Why else would I punch a jerk?” Wendy dared, seeing if Stan truly thought she would punch someone just to punch someone.

Stan chuckled under his breath. “Well, if some transphobe or some bully is giving you trouble, make sure to give ‘em a good left hook from me.”

Wendy nearly dropped her broom, but managed to fumble it for a bit and then catch it, clinging to it tightly, like it was a life preserver out at sea.

Stan glanced up, smiled and chuckled at the look plastered on Wendy’s face, and said, “You need an antacid or something?”

“Soos ratted me out, didn’t he?”

“Kid, I know nearly everybody in Gravity Falls. I remember your old man back when he was Boyish Dan. I remember him dancing in the streets when he found out he was going to have a kid. And I remember his encore performance when his first son was born. And I remember when Dan started proudly showing off his daughter, so it doesn’t take a detective to put two-and-two together.”

“And… you’re cool?” Wendy clarified.

“I hired you, didn’t I?” Stan closed the register and looked Wendy dead in the eye and spoke with a tone that was heavy with experience and anger. “I know I’m an old man, but I know what it’s like to be different, and I know better than most that it’s okay to be different. I’ve faced cops and dogs in parades in big cities like Chicago and Las Vegas back in the seventies. I’ll never forget the look on my Pa’s face when he learned our neighbors weren’t just roommates. I know what it’s like…” Stan cleared his throat, unwilling to share more of his personal life with a teenager he hired two weeks ago, and he wrapped up with, “It ain’t pretty, kid.

“Life is too short to waste it being ‘normal’. Guy, gal, none of the above, all of the above, who cares?  You just be you, and don’t think for one minute you gotta hide that kind of stuff from our own boss, got it?”

Wendy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

“Good. Now finish sweeping and get out. All this sweetness is giving me diabetes.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow and smiled cunningly. “What, you don’t already have it?”

“Oh ho, wise guy, ey?” Stan laughed and he restocked the shelves while Wendy swept the dirt outside, clocked out, and went home feeling a little lighter than she did walking in.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later and school was finally out! The Mystery Shack had. Few days of peace until June 1st, when Mr. Pines’ niece and nephew were scheduled to come spend the summer at Gravity Falls.

Wendy came in a few minutes before opening, first noticing Soos on the porch, nailing a striped flag next to the stairs, so the flag wasn’t blocking the porch and it was an inch away from the flag. One flag was already put up.

“Uh, dude…”

“Oh hey dude!” Soos said and stood up on the porch, his arms spread wide. “What do you think? Mr. Pines said we should show our support during Pride Month, and even after that! He said maybe in a few months he’ll invest in a flag pole but for now I think this looks cool!”

Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at the flags. On the left was a trans pride flag, and on the right a LGTBQ+ Pride flag, all the colors of the rainbow showing how all people are accepted and welcomed, no customer was unworthy of pick-pocketing, and that their employees and boss was a little different and if you got a problem with it they’ll feed you to the Gobblewonker.

The intentions were clear. So clear that Wendy had nothing to add. All the redhead could do was clear her throat and shrug with a smile, in an attempt to act tough, and say, “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

[riversofmars]

Just to be extra annoying, I now have a banner for when posting fics about them XD

New oneshot! Wanted to do a Helen-centric piece so here we are!

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: Liv Chenka/Helen Sinclair

Rating: G

Summary: Once rescued from Rykerzon, Helen returns to the TARDIS and her life with Liv and the Doctor eager and happy for the future. She did, however, underestimate the hold and effect past events would have one her. The powers of the Sonomancer, that she had sought to bury, are gradually returning and slowly dragging her away, threatening to scatter her across the time streams like Caleera before her.

The Void Between Moments

I was fading away. Not just in a metaphorical sense, but in a very real one. History had already lost its hold on me as I had disappeared from it after 1963, and reality, it seemed, would follow soon after. I didn’t just cease to exist, no, it was a slower process than that, one I experienced with terrifying clarity - and there was nothing I could have done to stop it.

The first time it happened - or at least the first time I was consciously aware of it - was upon my return to the TARDIS. It had been a joyful occasion and my emotions had been running high. After months of being alone, of feeling lost with only the Eleven for company, I was finally coming home. Home, to me, was the TARDIS - blue walls of deceptive depth - and the people that filled her corridors, sometimes with laughter, sometimes with shouting, always with life.

Liv had bounded ahead, down the corridor towards the kitchen.

She looked so light on her feet, relief and unadulterated joy informing her every movement, lifting her frame and quickening her steps. All I could do was follow, basking in the joy she was radiating as if it was the blaze of a sun. Few comparisons did Liv Chenka justice but a sun - powerful, bright and captivating - seemed apt. Some days I felt like I had been dragged into her orbit, drawing steady, familiar paths around her, sure of my step and of my place with her at the centre of my life. 

When it happened, the cold washed over me like a tidal wave and drowned my senses. In a way it was almost like falling asleep, that alluring yet somehow terrifying moment of surrendering your consciousness, your self, to the depths of sleep with no guarantee of waking. I stumbled from the unexpected, unfamiliar sensations but my unsteady footsteps never sounded on the corridor floor. I feared I had lost my hearing as it was long before I understood that sound - as such - didn’t exist where I was.

There were many things I would learn about this place, the plain of existence I was slowly fading into. 

“Liv?” I called out but while I heard the word in my mind - her lovely name, the feel of which I loved to roll over my lips - the sound was lost to oblivion. I spotted Liv up ahead, casting a glance over her shoulder and baring her teeth in that beautiful smile of hers. I have always adored her smile. People would call her grumpy for allowing her face to rest in an inquisitive frown, but when she smiled she brightened every room she walked into - and my life in turn. She didn’t smile as much as she ought to and it was all the more rewarding when she did so for me. 

Liv was - as I would later understand - frozen in time. It was something she would never be aware of as it wasn’t her these things were happening to; it was me. I was the one who’d become a spectre, made to observe from a plain far beyond everything I had known: I had fallen into the chasms that gaped between every moment of existence. Time which punctuated and governed those moments did exist there. 

I ran scared, as anyone would. I panicked, though the effects were only psychological as I wasn’t aware of any physical distress at all. My chest didn’t tighten as I felt no need for air and my heart didn’t race as I realised it wasn’t beating at all. The one thing I did notice, the one thing I felt, was something that was deep inside of me. It filled my ears but not with sound. It was resonance, humming inside every fiber of my being. 

It was terrifying yet strangely calming as it was an explanation for what was happening: Caleera’s powers were still inside of me and whatever was going on was likely caused by them. On Rykerzon I had worked hard to bury them deep inside, compartmentalise my mind, my very self, as a part of the Sonomancer had taken root within me. As grateful as I was to Caleera for choosing to stand with us at the end, to enable me to stop Padrac and save the universe, I had seen the destruction her powers could bring and I wanted no part of it.

It was a cruel twist of fate that they would slowly return, just as I was rejoicing and returning home with a renewed zest of life and hope for the future. I suppose I must have let my guard down. I wrestled my emotions back into check. It wouldn’t do to panic. I had to focus on finding a way back to reality so I spun on the spot, looking around for clues. The corridor was empty, safe for Liv’s frozen shape ahead and her bedroom door to my left-hand side. 

Even as I felt nothing except for the stirring resonance inside me, I sensed a pull towards the half-open door and I took a step towards it. My lack of understanding etched into my brow as I cast my glance inside the room, surprised to find it occupied: Liv was there, frozen like the Liv in front of me in the corridor, and yet completely different. She sat on the sofa to the left of the room, hunched over and leaning onto her legs. One hand supporting her head, grasping around her chin and mouth, the other midway through brushing through her hair. I frowned, trying to work out why there would be two versions of her, but I struggled to think of much other than the fact that her face was wet with tears. They were rolling down her cheeks in small creeks, suspended halfway but obvious in the dim light of the bedroom. I had never seen her like it. 

Liv Chenka is an expressive person, her face, her voice, her body language… and I had come to witness a vast range during our quest to find the Eleven and stop Padrac. From the joy of seeing my traipsing around history like a tourist, to the anger reserved for our enemies and the frustrated desperation we had come to know when we had been hurtling into a murdered future. Among it all, I had never witnessed her truly break, not in the way I found her there and I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing.

Like an innate sense, realisation came with the humming inside me as it sought to spread to every inch of me. I wasn’t experiencing time linearly anymore. Suddenly, I simply knew then that this was Liv before they had found me, while I had been at Rykerzon. I took a step closer to the door, sought to push it open but it wouldn’t budge to my touch. Looking on I experienced a strange pull in my gut, the first thing I felt apart from the building resonance. It was caused by finding that Liv was wrapped in one of my cardigans. I moved away, feeling like I was intruding on what should have been a private, unobserved moment. And suddenly, I could hear again, as my heart-beat started thundering in my chest, overpowering the resonance, drowning it out as I realised there was a chance Liv’s tears had been for me.

I gasped as my next breath came and I felt warmth again when a hand closed around my wrist - Liv’s hand - and I looked up to her smiling face, so unlike the vision from the past. As I had moved away from the doorway, I had backed into her and time had resumed. A terrifying feeling of helplessness passed with the realisation that I had returned to the present. 

In that instant I forgot about the cold and the quiet and the still moment beyond time and lost myself in the depth of her expressive eyes instead. They were a lovely blue-green, deep and soulful, like an ocean and I would gladly drown in them. 

“Are you okay?” She asked gently and I missed a beat, just by looking at her, wondering if she felt the same magnetic draw towards me as I did to her. “Did you change your mind about tea? Because we could do something else, whatever you want. I’m just glad you’re back.”

“So am I,” I answered softly. “Tea would be lovely.”

“Right then, come on,” Liv grinned in return and turned, pulling me along with unbridled enthusiasm. I laughed and followed as I had little choice. Her hand released my wrist but only to move down, brush along my fingers to grasp my hand instead. I grabbed her tightly in turn, holding on to her and with her to existence. I could feel it still, the low hum at the back of my mind, but pushed it down in pursuit of more important matters, such as the beautiful med-tech dragging me along. She chased away the cold, the quiet, the lifelessness in the same way as I hoped I’d chased away her sadness with my return.

The second time it happened, I noticed it too late. It had been in the middle of a conversation in a cafe on Kaldor. The Doctor had given us leave, set us up with entrance tickets and vouchers to go and see the grand opening of a leisure complex on Liv’s home world. It was a lovely opportunity, a perfect break and reprieve from the events of Rykerzon. Out of the many things I had missed during my stay there, spending time with Liv had been top of the list. The Doctor must have realised as much and I was deeply grateful. I had also realised a great many things about myself during my incarceration and it seemed like the right time to address them. I felt at ease with Liv smiling at me across the table, it gave me a strength I didn’t know I had and was sorely needed. I had a lot to overcome, my past and upbringing had put me at a disadvantage where matters of the heart were concerned, but in the far future with the woman who I had come to adore beyond words, anything seemed possible.

“I’ve never really had a friend before… or someone like you,” I admitted and felt brave for doing so. Liv’s expression softened and so I kept going, throwing caution to the wind. “But you’re more than that. We’re family.” I took a deep breath and dropped my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts and courage to explain the things I had been terrified of feeling but had still been unable to prevent. “And I think I- I think I might be falling in love with you,” I spoke at last and wasn’t at all surprised that my voice had given out being as anxious as I was. So I cleared my throat, prepared to start again and looked up to find Liv and the world around us frozen. The dead quiet I had attributed to my single-minded focus and the cold I had explained away as a shiver of nerves, but they had far more worrying reasons. For a moment, I simply remained where I was, unsure of what to do. I honestly hadn’t expected for it to happen again. I had put it off as a freak incident, not something that would be happening to me with alarming frequency.

I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself, both from the cold and the eerie quiet. While my circumstances were no less worrying than last time, I was slightly less panicked, safe in the knowledge that there was a way back to my plain of existence. I took a moment to observe Liv and the way her expression was caught in that instant; an unending image of the effect my words had had upon her. Her face was a picture of what I’d hoped were her feelings towards my proclamation that we were as close as family. Even in the bitter cold of the void, my heart warmed at the sight of her joy. I’ve talked of the effect her smile had on me and the world around us. That moment was no different. She brightened and warmed the coldest, most unnerving of places and even if I couldn’t feel her presence as I was utterly alone in a place I understood little off, I was touched to the point of tears.

You must understand, my life before the fateful afternoon on which the Doctor and Liv had broken into my office had been rather lacking. I have always felt out of place, out of time. Whether that was with my family where my father believed little in the worth of women, or at the National Museum where those beliefs carried on. I had always wanted too much and was entrusted with too little, no matter how hard I tried. Looking back now, I realise my dissatisfaction, the emptiness and discontent I felt were rooted in far more than just my treatment by the patriarchy. There had always been something missing, a gaping void like the one I had drifted into. I was only able to explain in the darkness of night and behind closed doors for fear of the fate that might befall me and had, before me, befallen my eldest brother. It was romantic love; something that I had never thought I would be able to experience.

I shuddered once more as I realised how alike my old empty life and this hollow void between moments felt. Somewhere deep inside me the resonance picked up once more. My mind flashed back to my time before the TARDIS and forward in a terrifying vision of a life without Liv, and I couldn’t bear it. I had to escape and return to her. Quickly, I reached across the table to my one lifeline, my anchor in the whirlwind life I had come to know, my true north… I grasped for Liv’s hand and time resumed. Liv’s smile widened as she grabbed my hand in turn and raised her glass with the other.

“I’ll drink to that,” she affirmed warmly. With that, the moment of my confessional had passed but it didn’t matter. I, too, took a sip of the soda coffee. I could wait a little longer to tell her, just so long as I could bask in the warmth of her smile. The cold and the hold the void had on me drained away once more.

The next time it happened was infinitely worse because I was alone. Not just in the chasm I was pulled into but because Liv wasn’t actually there. She couldn’t be with me as I was alone in the TARDIS, truly alone. I had left my friends in Salzburg where the Krampus was dragging people into hell. I had left in the vain hope of finding a way to save them. It had seemed our best - our only - option. I had set off in the TARDIS without a clue as to how to steer her or how to go about finding the man that the legend of Saint Nicholas was based upon. It was a tall order, and yet, I was determined to see it though. I simply had to. It was the only way of saving Liv and seeing her again - or so I thought until I woke from restless, uncomfortable sleep with my head buried in a book. I had collapsed from exhaustion over my research in the TARDIS library. I slowly came to as a chill ran up my back, I blinked against the light of the desk lamp and jolted upright when I noticed a figure hovering just over my shoulder. I gave a yelp that didn’t sound and immediately I understood that it had happened again. My heart sank with worry when I recognised Liv standing behind me, a blanket in hand as if to spread it over my sleeping shape. That was when I realised I was standing in a frozen copy of myself. I staggered back, took a tumble over my own feet and fell to the ground with a silent thud.

From my somewhat compromised position on the floor, I watched the scene in front of me. Another version of myself was sleeping soundly across the desk and Liv was looking on with a gentle smile tucking at the edges of her lips. She was about to drape the blanket over me and somewhere, in the back of my mind, I recalled a time where I had fallen asleep in the library and woken to being wrapped up and warm. I had never known who had found me to do so, part of me had always assumed it had been the TARDIS herself, but this was an altogether more lovely discovery.

While my involuntary excursions continued to be deeply unsettling, to see Liv again and to witness her giving me such care, observing me with a smile that I couldn’t describe as anything but adoring, filled my heart and mind with new determination and resolve. I would carry on and find her, nothing would stop me, not even the empty in-between that seemed to have taken such a liking to me.

I scrambled to my feet and deep within me, I felt the familiar tune of resonance that seemed almost alluring and tempting me with answers. It was of little concern. I had no need for the unpredictable power that was likely to blame for my unsettling predicament. All I cared about was getting back to Liv. So I reached for her, even if she was just an image. In my heart I could feel her, knowing she was out there somewhere in the real universe where she needed my help.

I reached for her cheek and my fingers slipped right through but I slipped too, from the cold void back into the comforting warmth of the TARDIS library.

The TARDIS greeted me with a soft hum, so unlike the discord of the powers of the Sonomancer, and I was left to wonder if she could feel me slipping away from time to time.

Whatever it was that was happening, it was getting worse after that. Things became… unpredictable. The moments I was dragged into became utterly random and Liv was the only aspect they had in common. Sometimes I would be there or the Doctor, sometimes other people that seemed to have inhabited the TARDIS at some point or other. It was quite disorienting, particularly when I didn’t recognise the events I was seeing. Looking back I understand that my mind had started travelling in time. I was beginning to scatter across the time streams, like Caleera had likely been. I was experiencing things outside of time and out of chronological order.

But through it all, I realised one thing: by reaching out for Liv, I could bring myself back to reality. Unlike the first few times, it was becoming an unpleasant experience. There was no warmth greeting me on the other side. As I wrapped my arms around Liv, distraught as I was and missing her dearly, I was returned to the plain of existence and grasped into nothingness. 

Sometimes, depending on how long it had been in between my instances of seeing her, it was almost worse than having stayed in that still moment. There, at least, I had been able to see her, pretend to myself that I was with her in some small way.

Soon and more often than not, I would cry. My tears would fall, hot and wet, as they rolled down my cheeks and gathered in the collar of my blouse. Sometimes, I’d topple over where I was, bury my face in my hands and give over to the onslaught of emotion that I’d only truly be able to feel in the real world. The ache in my heart would turn physical and I’d whimper from pain.

At least I had the TARDIS with me to become a steady companion and dear friend. Whenever I returned from the void, distraught and spent, I’d look up to find the door to Liv’s bedroom across the corridor. Even the very first time, I understood her intentions perfectly, and I clambered to my feet to step inside.

I found her space as Liv had left it: messy and so very lived in. The bed was unmade, clothes were scattered across the floor and a collection of used mugs adorned the coffee table by the sofa in the corner. I inhaled deeply as I looked around, taking in calm and comfort before I walked to the bed. I was exhausted. I slept far too little in the pursuit of my goal to save my friends and I needed rest, physically and mentally. I ran my fingers along the crinkled sheets, then sat at the edge of the bed. I grasped the duvet, imagining how it had wrapped around Liv before. I was too tired to feel self-conscious, too weak to resist the temptation and too desperate for comfort to do anything else but lie down. I started crying again but felt a lot closer to Liv than I had in a long time.

I woke with renewed determination. Liv’s bed smelled of her, and under her blankets I felt warm and safe. I had wrapped myself in all that I could find, hoping to banish the chill of the void that had started to seep into my bones. I suppose it was a symptom of what was happening to me, of the void calling to me and dragging me further and further into its embrace until… I chose not to finish the thought and I sought to ignore that I had started feeling the resonance outside the void as well.

Soon I came to know a strange dichotomy of longing for the still moments as they allowed me to see Liv, and dreading them as I feared that I might not be able to return from them. If that were to happen, all hope would be lost. I would have failed my quest. The Krampus would win. Liv and the Doctor would…

I kept my visits brief as I could, as they happened more and more frequently. I’d lunged for Liv wherever she was and ignored the call of the resonance within me even as it became ever present and tempting. I persisted. If anything, it is a testament to the strength of my feelings towards my best friend. I stayed strong for her and kept at it for forty years.

And then, the journey ended.

“Is this it? Is this Salzburg? Did I get it right?”

I didn’t expect to feel relief to see the Krampus again and the beautiful city of Salzburg in flames but I did. It meant I had accomplished my goal at last. It had taken all my strength but I had done it. My body was wearing incredibly thin. The age was one thing but it was the resonance ringing in my ears that had worn away my life force. I was cold and shaking to the tune of the powers vibrating inside me. I had fought them for so long, I was nearing the end but as I saw my destination reached, I knew it would be okay. I wouldn’t need to hold on much longer. There was just one more thing I longed to do, one face I longed to see and I did when she cradled my collapsed shape.

“It is you. I can see it in your eyes, Helen. What happened? You’ve grown… old.” 

I could see the pain in Liv’s eyes as she must have realised what I already knew: I didn’t have much time left. It didn’t matter. Not now that I was in Liv’s arms. My mind was foggy, my ears ringing, I barely registered how Nicholas banished the Krampus. All I did was look at Liv, filling what I presumed to be my last moments with studying her beautiful face and taking comfort in the warmth of her embrace.

And then the Doctor joined us, bringing the confirmation I needed to hear before things ended. I had done it. I had saved everyone. Their voices started fading away, the Doctor’s praise of my accomplishment and Liv’s worry for my health. I looked into Liv’s beautiful eyes, clouded with worry, and longed to say all the things I needed to but didn’t have strength or breath for.

I would have slipped out of consciousness then, out of life, had it not been for one more excursion into the void. My physical discomfort ceased and I could think more clearly. I could sit up, out of my still body and look around with sharper senses than I’d had in the real world. It was, perhaps, a cruel thing to have me examine and be aware of my dying moments, but it was beyond my control.

Liv looked heartbroken and the Doctor numb. I longed to reach out, try to catch the tears that were forming in Liv’s eyes but I knew if I did, I would be returned and breathing my dying breath. I would delay a little longer, stealing this moment and holding it tight, as tightly as Liv was holding my body. It was all I’d ever wanted, to be close to her like that.

“Helen.” I could hear her speak but not through sound as such. It was resonance stirring in my ears and my mind.

“Caleera,” I realised and looked around to find the Sonomancer standing behind me. She looked like the girl I remembered from the dying TARDIS, the girl from before her powers had consumed her, and yet, she was very much in control of them as I felt them radiating off her.

“Come with me, it’s time,” she extended her hand to me and finally, I understood. At last I could see why I was gradually fading from existence. It was the inevitable conclusion to my extraordinary journey. After everything that had happened, I would join Caleera as a scattered echo as her powers tore at the edges of my being. 

That was not the fate I wanted.

“No,” I shook my head and looked back to Liv. Surely it would be better to simply…

“You’re dying,” Caleera said as if she had read my mind and I suppose she probably did. I imagine it was well within her remit, particularly considering that she seemed in control of this plain of existence. “If you return, you will perish forever. Let things play out, leave your mortal shell behind and come with me.”

“So it was you, all this time…” I concluded. “Pulling me away…”

“I have given you perspective. Join me Helen. We might not be with those we love but we won’t be alone. I have saved you and I can do so again, now,” her voice was surprisingly gentle and I could tell she meant what she was saying. It made refusing all the harder. I gave her a sad smile and shook my head.

“I’m sorry but… I can’t.”

“Helen, you will die,” she took a step towards me.

“I can’t,” I whispered with tears threatening my eyes. “I have gone forty years without her, how do you think I would cope for eternity?” I glanced back to Liv. “I’d sooner-”

“And you will,” Caleera warned and all I could do was give a shrug of my shoulders. The thought of spending an eternity in this void was terrifying. I couldn’t carry on without Liv any longer.

“Then so be it,” I gave back. “I’d rather die in Liv’s arms than wander all the ages of the universe without her.” I knelt down beside Liv and my frozen shape.

“I see,” the Sonomancer voice was heavy.

“You’re disappointed,” I observed and she gave a sad smile:

“Just in the fact that I will never know love the way you have,” she gave a heartbreaking, raw and honest answer that caused my chest to tighten and guilt and compassion to coil in my stomach.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what Padrac did to you and took from you,” I offered gently.

“So am I,” she nodded and her face hardened. “One day I will find him and I will have my… I won’t be alone anymore. I will find him.”

“Caleera, is that not the very thing you should not do? He is not worth it, he-” I felt for her. I wanted to help, talk some sense into her at the very least but she interrupted me.

“That is where you and I are different Helen, for all our similarities… I have spent too much time in the darkness, in the cold… I have done things… the Voord homeworld? Have you forgotten about that? And so many more… just because I was manipulated into doing Padrac’s bidding doesn’t mean I was blameless. I did what I did. I could have stopped at any time,” she shook her head to herself, then focused on the frozen moment around us. “If Liv asked you to do something terrible like that for her, would you?”

“No. I wouldn’t. Because then she wouldn’t be the person I thought she was,” I answered gently and turned my attention to my beloved friend.

“I’m not as good as you, Helen. I don’t want redemption. I will settle for revenge,” the Sonomancer explained and there wasn’t much for me to say.

“I don’t suppose I will be in a position to dissuade you,” I observed. She gave a nod and so did I. We understood each other and all of a sudden, the resonance in my ears fell silent, relenting its hold on me and the hold the void and Caleera had exerted. I would be free of it and free to make what I considered my final choice. I took a deep breath out of habit rather than need for air. “I- I’d like to go now,” I whispered. “I’m ready.”

“I’m sorry, Helen,” Caleera said and I smiled.

“Don’t be. This is my choice. Thank you for giving me one. But I will always choose her. Always. She’s- I love her.” It felt good to say the words at last, even if I wouldn’t have the strength or time to tell Liv herself. At least I had told someone.

“I know you do,” the Time Lady hummed. “And you are fortunate. She loves you too.”

At that my tears started falling properly and I felt the void fading away. I’d known as much. I could see it in Liv’s face as she cradled my aged body, but I was ever so grateful to have it confirmed.

“Goodbye, Caleera,” I said and the Sonomancer replied in kind:

“Goodbye, Helen.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper now as I felt the darkness of unconsciousness pulling me down. I grasped the last opportunity while it was there. I pressed my lips to Liv’s as means of returning to reality. The ghost of a kiss would be better than nothing. I fell back into Liv’s arms where I was meant to be and was engulfed by darkness, left to wonder what would happen around me as my body finally surrendered.

The darkness was followed by light. Warm, bright and restoring. As I drew a deep breath and was returned to consciousness, Liv’s face was the first and only thing I could see.  

“You’re back, you’re really back!” She exclaimed with tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. I returned the gesture by instinct alone, surprised and confused to find my hands returned to their youthful state from my departure. The pain and discomfort of old age was gone. I was alive. I had no idea why and how, but I was.

“I didn’t think I had gone anywhere.” I offered, dazed by the stunning turn of events, and it was a lie of course. Even if I understood very little of what was going on, I knew I had gone somewhere but I never would again. Not for anything. I would never allow myself to be swallowed by the void again. I suspect there would be no reason to, Caleera would have other concerns looking for Padrac.

“And you never will. Happy Christmas, Helen. Happy Christmas,” Liv buried her face in my neck and I could breathe more easily. Whatever happened, whatever horrors we had faced, we had come out on top. I had been given a second chance and I wouldn’t waste it. I had waited far too long.

“Liv…” I pulled back a little so I could look at her.

“Yes?” I met my eyes with concern, searching my expression.

“I love you,” I simply said and there were no doubts, no fears, no shame. There was just love. Love that existed everywhere, even beyond this reality. Love that gave me the strength to carry on, even when I was utterly spent. Love that had always returned me to where I belonged, even when I was lost. 

“Good,” Liv grinned and I raised my eyebrows as it was not the response I had expected or hoped for.

“Good?” I echoed, trying not to let my disappointment show too much.

“Yes, good,” Liv confirmed and brought her hands up to grasp my face. “Because I love you too.” She offered gently and I smiled, relieved and content. We met halfway, of one mind and one desire as we kissed at last. It was the fulfillment of something that should have happened a long time ago but time didn’t matter, not now. I had come home and found the single most precious thing that I had been missing all my life: the anchor to my existence and my place in the universe.

[leahblackk]

I attempted a very short angst blurb and since you are dubbed the queen of angst let me know what you think?

tw: death, knife

“I found love, and then I lost it”

It had only been a few months since the incident. Since y/n’s life was shattered into the million of pieces she could no longer find. Spencer had taken off that damn vest again. How many times had she told him to keep that vest on? And how many times did he promise he would? Every time he broke that promise, she’s scream him angry for putting his life in danger, before thanking him for coming home to her safely. Yet he broke his promise to her one too many times. He had removed his vest in an act of surrender to the unsub, attempting to gain leverage. It did not work, the unsub lunged at Spencer’s throat with his knife, slicing open his neck. Medics arrived moments too late. The life, and all of the love he held for y/n, left his soul as quickly as he took of that damn vest.

Damn Vest

Summary: Literally just doing this request in the middle of the night on my birthday. Yeah, I like angst. (Surprise at the end ;))

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of knives, blood, nightmares, little arguments and death.

People are so nice to call me the queen of angst but to be honest there’s many people out there who deserve that title more than I do! But I appreciate all the love <3

Having a vest on the job was one of the greatest and stupidest things. Yeah, It protects you from being injured or killed, but the risks are higher even with that damn vest on.

The BAU team always wear it. Never take it off, no matter how tight the circumstances are. That’s what Hotch repeat over and over again. No matter what, never take the damn vest off.

But obviously, most of them didn’t listen. Their job and the lives they had to save was even more important than their own safety. Y/n, of course, understood that. But she saw how her friends stopped doing so little by little.

First JJ. She would do anything for her job and everyone knew that. She was so good at it and Y/n always considered her one of the best FBI agents. She cares about the lives she had to, desperately and hopefully, save. She didn’t care if her life would be in the middle. But after Henry was born, she was scared. She had a son to come back to at the end of the day, someone who looked after her, someone to protect and don’t let them be alone. She knew what loneliness was. She didn’t want her son to feel the same, so she cared and appreciate her life even more. Little by little.

Next was Hotch. In the beginning, he didn't worried about it too much. He knew if something happened to him, Haley was going to be there for their son, even if that would break him. Of course, he cared about coming back with his son, that was all he could think about when he didn’t want to keep going the job, when the weight on his shoulders was too much, with all was darkness and sadness. When all the monsters his son feared so much were out there, waiting, haunting, watching. The only thing he cared about was clear the world for his son, that was the least he could do. But after Haley’s death, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. His son only had him, and he wasn’t going to leave him alone, not after his mother. So he takes care of himself even more. Little by little.

Then was Morgan. He was blessed with a beautiful son and a beautiful wife to come back at the end of the day, but before he didn’t care if he had to sacrifice himself. He has been on the thin string of death and life, he crossed, he dared death and look at it in the eye, and he didn’t fear. Of course, he thought about his mom, his family, but he knew he was doing the right thing. And then a little angel with the name of Hank Spencer Morgan came to his life, to break what he once knew. And his wife, his dear wife and his family was everything for him and even if one day he thought it was okay to dared death, now he fears it. So he stopped, little by little.

And then, the last one who actually cared about her life was Y/n. Yeah, she didn’t at first like everyone else. She would’ve sacrificed her own life for people to be better, she didn’t care. She thought she didn’t have anything to lose. Nothing, anything at all. Until Spencer Reid came. Now she feared death, she fears not spending the rest of her life with the love of her life. She was scared to leave him alone, as everyone else did. She promised herself she was going to do better. She, actually, truly, care about her life because she had him at the end of the day.

Emily and Spencer are on the other side. They kept taking risks. They cared about their family and friends, but they also cared about the people who suffered, the people who died and the people who had to watch them slipping through their fingers, watching your friend and loved one little by little stop breathing, stop seeing and hearing their pleads to not let go, to keep going. And those who didn’t even had any idea until the police showed up on their home with the bad news burning their skin and wishing things were differently, but the world was cruel, dark and mercilessly. And they thought they could change that.

But, not all people can be saved, even those who save.

…

Y/n entered the house and Spencer followed her. He swore he could see the anger rising above her head and the redness on her face, not flustered but frustrated. Frustrated at him, at the world, at the bad people, and again at him.

He closed the door behind him and looked at her take her shoes off. With anger, shaky hands and difficult breathing. She was so angry.

“Angel-“ he began trying to ease her worries.

She looked at him and if the unsub didn’t kill him she was going to with the pure anger in her eyes. But what Spencer didn’t notice before was the redness on them and the tears that came down. His heart shattered. He put those there. “Don’t call me angel right now. Not even talk to me, Reid.”

Reid.

Reid.

He knew he messed up. So badly.

She never called him by that unless she was really bad, and well, that’s her exact feelings. “Angel you have to understand that-“

“No, no, Reid. I don’t have to understand anything, you’re the one who needs to get in your head that their life is not the only one who’s in danger in that room. You’re not a superhero Spencer, you can’t save everyone, and I know you want to but is impossible. And it hurts me to see you so reckless going there and taking that goddamn vest as your life didn’t matter as just the same as theirs,” she gasped to get to finally let air enter her lungs. And then keep going. “You act like you didn’t matter, you can’t- you act like you didn’t care about your life, and if I am selfish right now, which I will totally do, you act like you didn’t care about me. About what will I do without you, Spencer. I have spent the last three years with you and I don’t even know what a day without you looks like, now imagine a whole life. I’m sorry for not wanting you to die.” She chuckled without any humour in her voice and the tears going down on her face, so did Spencer’s. To hear her so broken and so hurt, hurts him too.

He took one step forward to her and when she saw what he was doing, she turned around and left. Going upstairs and leaving Spencer looking at her with regrets and guilt. She always told him not to take the vest off. She specifically said “that’s why they made it. To protect you and you’re being a little shit if you don’t wear it. It is unrespectful.”

He chuckled softly at her words. He had to stop doing that, knowing that it hurt her so chronically.

On the other side of the house was Y/n who keep crying desperately. She was angry, she could feel the venom going through her body. She took a quick shower to then change into her comfort clothes and lay on their bed hoping she could fall asleep without Spencer. She couldn’t do that either, and she thought if she couldn’t even sleep without his warmth, how could she live without him if something bad happens? She shakes her head as she felt the chills going through her body, and then she could hear Spencer’s footsteps going closer and closer to their room. She quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Spencer opens the door. Lights were off but the moonlight shone and entered their room landing on the floor. He closed the door behind him and lay his back on the wooden door crossing his arms on his chest while he looked at her. He knew she was faking being asleep, he knew her all too well and because of his love was so crushing that it hurt his heart every time he thought of her, he learned every single detail of her. He knew if she was truly asleep her chest would be raising more peacefully and softly than it is right now. She hugged herself to sleep, or put her hands inside of her thighs and she wasn’t doing any of those things. He knew every single part of her body, every single thing and pet peeves trying to prevent people from doing them or doing it himself so she couldn’t even be upset. He couldn’t stand her being slightly upset and seeing her so hurt made him regret everything, but he couldn’t change the past but he could change the future, or that was what he thought.

Spencer walked softly to take off his clothes and put them in the laundry basket. He then changed to his comfort clothes and his mismatched socks touch the floor. His nose scrunched at the awful feeling of his socks and the cold floor touching so he walked a little faster until his legs touched the soft material of their sheets and he left a sigh. He turned around so he could see her back. He put his right hand under the pillow and the left stretched to touch her back. He moved his hand up and doing and felt the way the chills moved over her body. Even if she rejected him right now, his body couldn’t as it was used to him and his touch.

He kept touching her back up and down, hoping she wouldn’t make him stop. He thought it was to calm and ease her mind so she could fall asleep, but it was also for him. For his sake and comfort, he couldn’t sleep without her. He couldn’t spend too much time without touching her. And he fell asleep, and a little after she did as well.

…

The team prepared themselves to go and haunt their unsub of the week, or weeks as they have been working on that case for two weeks already and now it was time to make it stop.

The SUV is parked and everyone draws their guns looking everywhere. Y/n followed Emily, Morgan snd Spencer while the others went to the back to check. Morgan, as usual, kicked the door down and they entered with precaution. They turned right and the unsub was there, holding a little girl with a knife on her throat. She was scared, everyone could see that.

He, the man who hold her and hurt her, and obviously traumatized her, was her brother. He had schizophrenia and he thought her little sister was possessed by a demon and the only way to set her free was by killing her and then she would be reborn as the Phoenix from its ashes.

Spencer walked closer, to him and spoke, putting his gun down, “Hey, it’s okay. I know you’re scared, and is completely fine to be scared, but by hurting her you won’t set her free. We can help you.”

“I don’t believe you!” The unsub screams.

“What can I do for you to believe me?”

The young man looked up and down at him and then at his partners. “Tell them to put their guns down and you take off your vest.”

“Alright,” everyone put their gun on their floor. After all, he only had a knife. Spencer’s hands travelled to his vest to take it off. Y/ns heart stopped. There was something wrong, she could sense it on her bones.

“Spencer,” she murmured.

Spencer looked at her. Those eyes that made him crazy. He took a few seconds to look at her and then turned around to take his vest off and put it on the ground. Y/n softly gasped. “You can send her now,” he said and the unsub did what he asked. He let the little girl go and she ran to Spencer and hugged his legs. Spencer brushed the hair out of her face looking down.

Everyone looked at them.

And no one noticed how the unsub took a gun out of his back and point it to his little sister, but he missed. Instead, he shot Spencer in the chest.

Everyone gasped. Everyone expects Y/n who choked and looked at him in shock. Spencer fell to the ground and the little girl now ran to Morgan, scared. Emily shoots the unsub, and Morgan took the girl out. Y/n ran to Spencer and fell on her knees next to him. He fights to keep his eyes open. “Spencer,” she cried. He looked at her and softly smiled, cupping her cheek.

“You always told me not to take the vest off. I'm sorry,” he whispered. Y/n shook her head.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she whispered back. Spencer smiled and looked at the ceiling.

“I don’t think so. I see- I see the light. Remember when I told you when I was kidnapped by Tobias and I saw a light and I felt warmth? I’m feeling it now,” he looked at her. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you, I’m so sorry Angel.”

She shook her head again, tears falling down. Her heart aching and she thought she would die right then and there next to him. She wanted to scream, to cry, to go back but she couldn’t, she couldn’t do anything more than being there with him. “Fight Spencer. Fight for us, please don’t leave me,” she sobbed.

“I want to, but I’m so tired.”

“Spencer,” she whimpered and closed her eyes to then look down. She she saw Spencer’s chest. There was no blood. Why there wasn’t any blood?

“Y/n… angel,” she heard him call her. But he wasn’t moving his lips.

“Hey Angel,” she heard again but behind her. She looked back. They were alone in a darkroom. They weren’t in the same place.

“Spencer?” She asked looking at him. But Spencer’s body wasn’t there anymore.

She looked everywhere. “Spencer?” She called. No answer. “Spencer please come back to me,” she cried. “Don’t leave me.”

And then everything turned blank.

“Angel,” she heard before she gasped and woke up.

She looked around. It was her room. Their room. She looked beside her, Spencer’s side. He was there, he was there looking at her with concern tired eyes and puffy hair.

“Spencer?” She asked without much air.

“I’m here my love,” he tried to touch her but she flinched. “Hey, Angel it’s okay. I’m here, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

“You’re here,” she repeated.

“Yes, angel. You had a nightmare.”

“It was all a nightmare?” She looked at him hoping he doesn’t fade away.

“Yes, it was. Everything is okay.”

Everything is okay.

Everything is okay.

Everything is okay.

She repeated as it was a mantra. A mantra to ground her.

But if everything was okay, why she felt pain all over her body? Why does she felt numb?

“It's because of the nightmare love, you’re okay.” He said.

But she didn’t said anything.

She didn’t speak.

One more gasped and she finally woke up. This time not in their house but in a hospital. She was on the bed of the hospital.

“Hey Angel. Hey take it easy,” Spencer spoke beside her. She looked at him. Red eyes and tired eyes, he was holding her hand. She could feel it, she could feel him. She looked at him. It was him, truly him.

Then tears went down her face. Spencer frowned. “Does something hurt? I mean besides of what just happened?” She didn’t stop crying. “Love, tell me what’s wrong? What can I do for you? Why are you crying?” He desperately asked cupping her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He frowned again. “Why?”

“I’m sorry I just had an awful nightmare. Two actually.”

Spencer heart ached.

Nightmares.

How awful they are.

“You want to talk about it?”

“You-you were dead, an unsub shot you and then I woke up in our bed and you were there and you told me I had a nightmare but it didn’t felt right,” she sobbed. “You’re here.” She looked at him.

“It’s okay love, I’m here. I can assure you this is real, okay? Let me prove it to you, okay?” She nodded. He wrapped her in his arms and she hides her face on his neck. It was him, truly him. “See, it’s okay. We’re okay,” he kissed her head.

After a few minutes letting he calm down, she pulled away and looked at him.

“What happened?”

“After we came back home and you were furious with me we were called in on a case with a man and his little sister. I think that was what you dreamt about it but instead of shooting me, he shot you. You took your vest off.”

She frowned. “I took my vest off? Why can’t I remember?”

“The Doctor said you lost so much blood and the painkillers were strong you were going to have temporal amnesia, when the unsub shot you, your head hit the ground pretty hard. That’s why you can’t remember.” She nodded. “I-I have to apologize.”

“Why?”

“I never listened to you and-I-I never thought what you said earlier. I mean I did, I did think about you but it wasn’t enough and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take my vest off and when you did my life fell apart. I can’t live without you, you’re everything to me and I should think about our life together more often, because we also matter.”

“We do. And yeah next time you take your vest off I will take mine,” she joked. He kissed her cheek.

“I won’t,” he hugged her again. “We’re okay.”

We are okay.