#that sensation of suddenly being able to see beyond the darkness and realize there's a whole world of light out there

[setmeatopthepyre]

One bright morning changes all things Soft and easy as your breathing, you wake Your eyes open, at first, a thousand miles away But, turning, shoot a silver bullet point-blank range And I can scarce believe what I'm believing in Could this be how every day begins?

The sky set to burst, the gold and the rust The colour erupts, you filling my cup The sun coming up

Like I lived my whole life Before the first light

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

5: EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Emotions between you and Bucky are running high and it leads to some unexpected strife between the two of you.

Word count 3.3k

Warnings: derogatory language, mentions of vomit, Bucky Barnes being a real asshole

There was a deep itch under your skin and a tingling between your thighs that didn’t dissipate as quickly as you would like. Neither could you look Bucky in the eye, especially since you wondered if he said those things to Priya when they were in bed together. As much as you’d love to pretend that they didn’t have a sexual relationship, he had clearly refuted your hypothesis earlier in the day. It didn’t help that Bucky hadn’t turned around at all from his position at the end of the bed. Just as you opened your mouth to ask Bucky what your next step should be, there was a knock at the door.

You finally got eye contact from Bucky as he whipped his head around in surprise. You flicked on the app on your phone which was linked to the camera outside your room, which showed Nadal rapping at your door. Bucky jumped up. "Who’s there?" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Your neighbor!" came Nadal’s voice.

"Just a second!" Bucky looked at you, suddenly wide-eyed as you stripped your dress in one quick motion. ‘What’re you doing?’ he mouthed at you.

"Strip!" you hissed as you flung yourself under one of the sheets and shed your bra.

Bucky slipped out of his slacks and shirt, tossing them across the room before going over to the door. He looked back at you, asking you if his arm hologram was not out of place. You nodded and he opened the door and greeted Nadal. You were meant to be listening to their conversation but your eyes were inexplicably drawn to the muscles on Bucky’s back, the way they flexed with every movement he made.

"I knew she was a screamer…" you caught the end of the conversation as Bucky leaned back and they both looked at you. You waved back coquettishly, holding the sheets over your exposed breasts.

"We’re heading down to dinner, I was going to ask if you wanted to join us, but it seems that you’re still … indisposed."

"Yes, I think room service will be a bit more suitable for us tonight," Bucky smirked. "You think they would bring us whipped cream and strawberries?"

Nadal chortled, "well you are in the honeymoon suite, I don’t think they would deny you the pleasure."

Bucky kept laughing until the door was shut, where he proceeded to roll his eyes in private. You proceeded to pull your phone out from beneath the sheets, checking that Nadal and his husband didn't double back to their room.

"Looks like the coast is clear," you whispered, holding up the phone. Bucky’s gaze lingered on you, mouth slightly agape. His embarrassment flared, ears turning crimson. You glanced down, realizing the sheet had slipped, revealing more than intended. "Think you could stop staring long enough to complete this mission?"

"Sorry," Bucky mumbled, turning away to give you privacy, heading to the window to assess your access to Nadal’s room. You swapped the sundress for leggings and a fitted tee, practical for maneuvering. Creeping to Bucky, you peered out the window at the gap between balconies.

"Can we make it?" you whispered in his ear, not quite able to judge the distance beyond his beefy frame.

"Yeah, no problems." Bucky swung his legs over the railing, effortlessly hopping to the adjacent balcony. His left hand extended to you - it was a strange sensation, reaching out expecting the feel of flesh, only for your palm to meet cool metal. You grasped it, suspended between worlds, and leaped into the unknown.

Nadal’s room was bathed in darkness, which had fallen soon after the mention of dinner. The well lit palm trees in the resort offered a glow which allowed you to see without stumbling over the larger furniture items. Bucky’s eyesight adjusted faster than yours and he was beckoning you over to a safe.

"So what the hell was that back there?" Bucky asked, tersely, crouching down in front of the safe.

"What was what?" you whispered back, handing him the device necessary to open it.

"The… moaning," Bucky could hardly vocalize the show you had put on in the bedroom.

"What? You telling me that you and Priya don't talk to each other while you're screwing each other?" You asked with mock surprise while encouraging him to open the safe.

It was dark, but you could practically see Bucky's scowl at you before activating the decoder device. "She doesn't make a lot of noise."

"Well this mission is sorta depending on being convincing."

Bucky opened the door to the safe but all you found was a gun case and a few items of jewelry. No, your treasure wouldn't be so easy to find. Both of you rose from your crouched positions to resume your search.

"What if she doesn't like it?" Bucky mumbled.

"Like what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone low.

"You know… sex."

You stopped looking around to stare incredulously at Bucky through the darkness. "Are you shitting me right now? We're supposed to be looking for the intel, not discussing your sex life."

You continued your search, grumbling quietly under your breath, trying not to let his words get under your skin.

"Do you like that kind of thing?"

"Jesus Bucky! I think that’s between me and the people who actually want to be with me!"

Oh how Bucky wished he could tell you he was one of those people! He didn't ask any more questions, both of you searching in silence until Bucky discovered a sealed case with a fingerprint locking mechanism. "Got it!"

"Here Fitz-Simmons’ print scanner should sort this in a jiffy." You handed him one of your friends' inventions.

It did, Bucky flicked open the case, as you glanced anxiously at the camera app on your phone as someone walked past the front door. "Hurry!" you whispered urgently.

Bucky ignored you, connecting a memory drive to the computer in the case.

"Fuck, there's a password."

"Move," you pushed him away, shoving your phone into his hands. "You keep watch, I'll do this."

One of the things you’d taken from your past experiences, working with Agent Daisy Johnson, watching her hack into anything and everything. There wasn’t a firewall she couldn’t crack, and you’d picked up a thing or two about breaking encryptions. As you bashed away at the keyboard, Bucky watched the camera for signs of Nadal, every now and then glancing at you. His mind was reeling ever since he had heard you moaning, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end. Oh how he longed to hear you make those sounds again, preferably for him. He wanted to be the one who made you scream. He had often wondered how you would look, under him, coming undone for him, but he had never once considered how turned on he would feel hearing you.

Bucky had thought that ‘moving on’, getting a girlfriend, being in a relationship would help him get over his thoughts of you. And there were times recently where he thought he had made the right decision. You had been more closed off to him than ever and he couldn’t lie to himself, it hurt. But on reflection, the closeness of your friendship had been far more rewarding than anything he had ever experienced before. He couldn’t help but glance over at you, admiring how you worked, the concentration and determination to complete your objectives. The way your tongue stuck out on the side, between your teeth when you were so focused made him smile.

"Cricket," Bucky murmured, putting a hand on your shoulder. "They’re back."

"I’m not done! Go stall!"

Bucky dropped the phone and was out of the window in a flash. If you had the time, you would have taken a moment to marvel at the swiftness and elegance of his movement, but you had a task to complete and limited time to do so. It hadn’t even been a minute when you heard Bucky’s voice outside the room, engaging with Nadal. You shook your head as they discussed the food choices and what kind of delicious options he could choose from to feed his brand new wife. Your heart clenched as your ring glistened in the light of the laptop screen.

"Five… four… three… two… one. Done!"

You slammed the laptop shut, locking the case and putting it back in the exact position you had found it. With your memory drive in hand, you braved the leap back to the honeymoon suite. You could still hear Bucky outside with Nadal, so stripping off your t-shirt and leggings, you bound over to the door, opening it a fraction.

"James." You stuck your head out of the door, making sure to reveal enough skin to make your ruse believable. "I'm hungry."

Bucky turned around to you and smirked. "And I've never been more thirsty, baby. Now get back in bed and I'll be right in."

Mission accomplished!

Now, the only thing left to do was to make a getaway without arousing suspicion. You started stuffing your belongings into a bag in case you needed to run. Bucky came back inside a few moments later.

"Time for the moment of truth." He went over to his bag and grabbed the gun he had stashed inside. "Ready?"

You slung the bag across your back, handing Bucky the drive to pocket. When you first started working together, you had decided that he would be the one to carry the intel. Bucky was the one more likely to survive if anything went wrong. He had been reluctant to agree, swearing that he would never leave you behind. And until you met Priya, you had believed him.

Both of you stood, frozen, waiting for a disturbance, signs of discovery of your trespass, but nothing came. 

"So, thoughts on the exit strategy?" you asked.

"Ideally unseen."

"Kinda hard In a place with so many people."

Bucky looked at you for a suggestion. 

"I have a thought," you ventured.

Bucky cocked his eyebrow in question. 

"Want to go down to the beach for a midnight skinny dipping session with your wife?" You offered your hand to him.

He took your hand with a smile. "Sounds like an excellent idea, Mrs. Road. Good thinking, Doll." 

His hand in yours made you smile for a moment, that is until the last word slipped from his mouth. Bucky hadn’t called you Doll since he started dating Priya. Your mind was sent reeling, had he meant to call you that? It made you angry and upset but you had a job to do, so you turned your face to hide your feelings and opened the door.

Expect the unexpected: it had been drummed into you in the academy induction. The second you had stepped out of the door, you dressed in a skimpy bikini and Bucky in floral swim trunks, you ran head first into the enemy.

"Oh! Mr. Nadal! I didn’t see you there!" you gasped dramatically. "Why are you awake at such a late hour?"

"I could ask you the same thing, my dear."

"Well, my Jamie isn’t really a risk taker. Sometimes I have to convince him to take a few risks," you whispered loudly. "He promised to take me skinny dipping on the beach, but he was a little embarrassed."

"I can’t imagine that Jamie has anything to be embarrassed about," Nadal responded.

Bucky blushed, rubbing his neck. He chuckled bashfully, "I’m not sure I know how to say no to her."

"No one should say no to such a beautiful woman." Nadal’s eyes roamed over your body.

"If you will excuse us, sir. I have to show my husband how to live on the edge." You smiled, dragging Bucky away.

As you rounded the corner, Bucky dropped your hand. You glanced up at his face as he strode purposefully to the car. 

"Hey Buck, wait up!" you hissed.

Except he didn’t slow down, ignoring you completely. You hustled to keep up with your fake husband until you reached the elevator to the parking garage.  

"What the hell, Bucky?" you cried as you got in the car after him. "That didn’t look like a very romantic getaway!"

Bucky started the car, pulling out and headed in the direction of the quinjet. You sat in a sullen silence as Bucky drove wordlessly staring only at the road ahead, jaw clenching, one set of white against the steering wheel while the other hand had created a dent in the leather upholstery.

"What is your problem?" you demanded after sitting in silence for fifteen minutes.

Bucky didn’t respond.

"God, you’re such a child!"

Bucky scoffed. "And you’re a fucking brat," he spat.

You looked at him, shocked.

"I knew you had a problem with Priya. But you couldn’t just come out and say it. You said you were happy for me, but then you come out with this shit. You said you were still my friend, but I can see how you judge my relationship. Not to mention all that crap back there, acting like a fucking pornstar. Not all of us need to act like dirty little sluts to get off."

Bucky slammed on the brakes, stopping on an unlit lane. You clawed at the door handle, stumbling out of the car, your breathing shallow and labored. You felt the sensation of bile rising in your throat, but you had nothing in your stomach to throw up. No one had ever spoken to you this way before and you never imagined that the man you loved so dearly had the capacity to hurt you so deeply.

Bucky jumped out of the car straight after you. He regretted every single thing he had said as soon as he finished. He thought about reaching out to touch you but wisely decided against it. "Oh God, Cricket, I’m so sorry. I… I only said those things because I was angry and I knew they would hurt you. Please, I didn’t mean any of them." He knew he had been wrong as the vitriol left his mouth, but once he had started, he couldn’t stop. Every negative emotion, every insecurity, every doubt that he held close to his heart had slipped out in the most malicious way. His parents had brought him up to be polite to everyone, the army had taught him to exhibit control, and HYDRA had forced him into submission. Bucky was an expert in suppressing his feelings, but you had tested his patience and pushed every single one of his buttons until he had exploded. 

There was no denying the sincerity of his apology, not that you registered any of the words he had said. Your mind was lost in a world of pain. You pulled the sheer cardigan that covered your shoulders tightly around your torso, shaking almost uncontrollably, both from emotion and the drop in temperature. It was killing Bucky to see your reaction, he wanted nothing more than to hold you close, to comfort you.

"Cricket," he whispered your name sorrowfully. Just as he was about to call you again, his ears pricked up slightly. There was a sound in the distance, a vehicle that was closer than it should be. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, catching a flash of a headlight beam. His heart rate picked up, anxiety increasing. Would Nadal have had you followed? Bucky peered into the darkness. There was no reason that anyone should be using that country lane at such a late hour.

"Cricket!" He grabbed your shoulders. "Get in the car, we have to go!"

Bucky’s voice felt far away but his hands on your arms were solid and forceful. He guided you back into the car and even though you wanted to shake him off, you knew he was doing the right thing.

"Cricket! They’re coming! Can you hear me?" Bucky spoke quietly but the urgency in his voice was evident.

You dragged yourself out of the well you’d fallen into, instead of drowning in the dark pit of misery, you decided to act. You sniffed back the congestion building in your sinuses and wiped the tears from your eyes, you grabbed the bag with the drive filled with intel. You needed to transmit the information back to headquarters so that they could make use of the passwords before everything could be changed. You picked up your cell, dialing Tony’s number.

"Tony! We need your help, now!" you put as much urgency into your voice as you could, before he had the chance to engage in his quips.

"What’s up? What did you and the Manchurian Candidate do?"

"We got the data, but we need to transmit it to you. They might be on to us and we don’t want them to have the chance to change their codes before we have time."

You could hear Tony typing even as you’re talking, wasting no time in setting up a secure connection for the data transfer. The pounding in your chest and ears now didn't have anything to do with Bucky’s outbursts. He was driving at an almost break neck speed, taking turns faster than normal and braking hard into unexpected turns. He had flipped off the headlights to make the car harder to spot, but the darkness, and the bumpy ride, as well trying to read the tiny writing on the screen was making you feel extremely queasy.

Bucky’s eyes flicked between the road, the rear view mirror and you. He was naturally concerned about you but he believed that you wouldn’t let your emotions get in the way of the mission. But that didn’t stop him from worrying.

"Cricket? We’re almost there."

"Almost done." You closed your eyes as the world started spinning and waves of nausea washed over you. Travel sickness wasn’t a problem you suffered often.

Bucky pulled into the small concealed opening which led to the field where you’d parked the currently cloaked quinjet. As soon as the car had stopped, Bucky shot back to the gate to close it, looking for signs of the enemy. You were left in sudden silence, no longer did the hum of the car engine soothe your thoughts, there was no other task at hand to distract you from the inner turmoil your body was suffering. The dizziness you’d been feeling earlier only intensified and you scrambled out of the car to escape the feeling of suffocation.

Unfortunately, the fresh night air did nothing to quell the throbbing in your temples or the saliva that was pooling in your mouth no matter how many times you swallowed. You knew your body well and you were loath to what was about to happen next. Supporting yourself against the hood of the car, you planted your palms on the metal to ground yourself for the inevitable. The acrid taste of bile stained your mouth as you heaved. A small sob escaped as acid in your empty stomach was expelled. Your whole body trembled in an effort to stay upright.

Bucky was at your side all of a sudden, his strong hands holding you up. And for a moment you melted into him. Letting him take care of you, letting him lead you into the quinjet, letting him wrap you in a warm blanket. You wanted your best friend back, you wanted your Bucky, the one who you could laugh with, the one who always took care of you, the one who made you feel special. He was the one person you could be yourself with. You missed the emotional intimacy you shared with him. The distance you’d put between him and yourself was making you physically ill.

You could barely focus on his face or the words he was saying to you or the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Bucky held up a bottle of water to your lips and you took a sip but it was all you could handle. Exhausted from the emotional stress, physical exertion and throwing up, your eyes drifted shut sitting in the co-pilot’s chair and you answered the call of Morpheus.

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[16mistypaw]

Misty's Whumptober 2024

Day 7 (Only for emergencies)

Wild makes a split second decision that saves his brothers lives at the cost of his own. Little do they know Wild is far more familiar with death than they realize.

Wild ducked under another attack, springing back up to spear the monster on the end of his sword. Flicking the corpse off his blade he chanced a look around to see how the others were faring. The monsters in Wars’ era, while numerous, were typically weak and more of a nuisance than a real threat.

Introducing black blooded monsters into the mix though made them a very real threat, and the leader of the monsters kept summoning a seemingly endless supply of reinforcements. So overwhelmed were the chain, that none had been able to get close to the summoner long enough to land more than a hit or two before being pushed back by the hordes. They were losing badly, and wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

A dark spirit Wars had identified as a big poe swept onto the battlefield, hovering high above the ongoing conflict. Dark energy gathered around its lantern, condensing into a swirling mass that kept growing.

“Fall back!” Came Warriors’ shout. “It's charging up for a big attack, it'll take out everything in the area!”

“Can't we stop it?! Can anyone reach it up there?” Legend replied.

“It must be black blooded, it's charging too fast! We won't make it out of the blast area before it's done.” Time shouted.

Wild glanced up at the spirit, then at the others making a vain attempt to flee the impending attack. Time was right, they wouldn't make it in time before it finished charging. Mind set Wild turned the other way, running towards the spirit, ignoring the cries of alarm from the others.

His sword was sheathed in favor of grabbing his glider, and with a running leap Revali's ghost launched him high into the air. Suddenly he was right in front of the poe, and glider was seamlessly swapped for sword once more, driving the blade through the spirit from above. Both spirit and gathering energy exploded, consuming Wild in the blast. It burned, even as it threw him back, clinging to him as he fell like a ragdoll.

He hit the ground hard, feeling a crack in both skull and spine. Wet warmth pooled beneath his head, and sensation from his lower back down was practically nonexistent. Someone screamed his name, though he couldn't turn his head to see who. His body refused to move, everything seeming muffled and far away.

‘Only a few minutes.’ Wild reminded himself. Only a few minutes to die, and be revived by his long lost love. He let his eyes close, vaguely aware of several people reaching his side. The familiar feeling of healing magic warmed his skin, and Wild wanted to scream at Hyrule to stop. Even if Hyrule could save him, his body was already beyond repair. Mipha's grace was the only thing that would be able to fix this level of damage, but for that Hyrule needed to let him go.

“Stop.” Wild's voice was barely a whisper, for all the effort it took to get that one word out.

“No! Don't give up, we can fix this!” Even as he said it, Wild looked into his eyes and knew the Traveler didn't believe it. The attempted healing gave him the strength to speak once more.

“I'll be alright. I have a healing ability, but you have to let me go. Please, it won't work otherwise.”

“You-”

“Please.” Wild was practically begging, and Hyrule relented.

“You have to promise, I'm not letting you die.”

“I promise.” Hyrule withdrew his magic, and immediately Wild started to fade. His breaths grew shallow and weak, body quickly shutting down. Only minutes later the labored breathing stopped altogether, and Hyrule nearly had a heart attack before an aura of healing magic stronger than anything he had seen enveloped Wild. There was a sickening pop as his spine was realigned, and the crack in his skull sealed itself closed. Every injury, major or insignificant, was healed in a matter of seconds.

The magic faded, and Wild took a shuddering breath as his body came back to life. He opened his eyes, and Hyrule nearly cried in relief.

“Don't do that again!” Hyrule scolded, holding back the tears.

“I don't make a habit of it.” Wild swayed a little as he sat up, holding his head in his hands. “This ability, it's not a free escape from death. It uses my own life force to revive me, shortening my lifespan every time it's used. I also lose some of my memory, which…”

“Which you already don't have a lot of.” Hyrule finished. “Why, then? Why did you do that?”

“You guys wouldn't have made it out in time otherwise.” Wild looked up to the worried Heroes gathered around him.

“And I couldn't risk losing any of you.”

[misirosekisiro]

I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (Dark version) 1-3

การแต่งด้วย AI นี่มันดีอยู่อย่าง คือปรกติผมมีไอเดียเยอะ แต่ไม่ค่อยมีอารมณ์ ยิ่งขาดอารมณ์ยิ่งอธิบายยาก เรื่องนี้ถึง AI มันจะชอบพาเรื่องออกทะเล แต่มันอธิบายได้ละเอียดดี ละเอียดเกินความจำเป็นด้วยซ้ำ และในฐานะ AI มันออกจะขาดความจำเกินไปมาก ๆ อยู่ดี ๆ คนที่ตายไปแล้วก็มาโผล่ อยู่ดี ๆ ก็มีตัวละครโผล่มาจากไหนไม่รู้ มั่วไปหมด เอาจริง ๆ เหนื่อยแทบเท่าเขียนเองทั้งเรื่องนั่นละ และอย่าถามหาว่า system หายไปไหนนะ โผล่มานิดเดียว ไม่ใช่แค่ AI ลืม คนเขียนก็ลืม

Chapter 1

It's start just an very ordinary day, Wataru Yanagisawa, Highschool boy walking to his school. He stop atroad crossing point waiting for green signal.

Suddenly, without warning he saw flash light from truck, suddenly crash towards him, sending him flying backwards into the streetlight pole. And then darkness...

Wataru opened his eyes. Where am I? This isn't my bedroom nor my house! Instead, he found himself lying within the midst of a shadowy and eerie woodland filled with thick foliage, tall grass, moss-covered rocks, fallen logs scattered here and there amidst decaying vegetation – all indications suggesting a strange and haunting place far removed from civilisation. How did I get here?

Wataru thought, trying to piece together what had happened to land him in such a bewildering situation. The sun cast its golden rays through gaps in the trees overhead, illuminating the ground around him ever so slightly. Shifting uncomfortably, he sat up straight, feeling oddly refreshed despite his ordeal. There was no trace of the incident he recalled happening back on Earth - not even a lingering bruise to remind him of it. It seemed almost as though nothing more than a dream had occurred before waking up here.

However, something felt different about him—a sensation unlike anything he could recall experiencing previously. It wasn’t until he moved his hands across his chest that he discovered why: instead of finding smooth skin, he encountered a cold, wet surface that rippled subtly against his touch.

He couldn't believe his own eyes when he looked down and realized that he had transformed into some sort of gelatinous creature! Panicking, he frantically tried to regain control over his limbs, only to find them twisting and contorting beyond recognition. In desperation, he attempted to stand upright once again, only to feel his entire form shift and flow like liquid onto the floor below.

"What happen to me!!!" Wataru thought. Then another sound answerd in his head.

"Answer, You have transport to another world. Now your species was Morphing slime"The voice that answered in his head was a man's voice, speaking smoothly tone like a machine.

"Oh god, what does this mean?" Wataru cried aloud. "How do I change back?"

There was silence, and then came another response in his mind.

"Answer, It's have no information right now about how to transform your species back to human species."

Wataru sighed deeply, feeling defeated.

"But as a morphing slime, you have an ability to take over others creatures or humans' body." That voice still answer in flat smooth tone.

A little bit relieved, yet terrified about his current predicament, Wataru began searching his surroundings for any sign of life. As he traversed deeper into the woodlands, he grew increasingly aware of the sinister atmosphere engulfing everything around him. It was clear to him that he needed assistance, but would anyone be able to help someone like him? Would they accept his existence as a living being? Or worse, would they see him as a threat due to his bizarre abilities?

These questions swirling in his mind, Wataru slowly made his way further into the heart of the woods. He heard rustlings among the leaves above him and noticed small rodents scampering away. Despite the mounting fear, Wataru took comfort in knowing that at least he wasn't entirely alone. However, the deeper he ventured, the stronger became his desire to come across another intelligent creature he might interact with, perhaps share stories or learn from one another.

After a while, he encounter with a wolf.

Without thinking twice, he instinctively tries to seize control of the animal's body.His arms reach out toward the tiny figure, attempting to wrap themselves around the warm furry frame. To his astonishment, he feels his tendrils extending, seeking purchase upon the wolf cub's flesh. Finally he move fast warp around wolf body with his slime body. He seek the hole that he can inject himself inside. Then he inject himself inside wolf's mouth, during he pour himself in, he start to melt anything inside wolf's body, muscle, organ or even wolf's skeleton. It's take not so long that only wolf skin left on the floor. It's like a wolf hide that got big oval abdomen, which Wataru body gather inside wolf skin. Then Wataru start to extent his body to every limb of wolf. Start with wolf's legs, his slime body filling in wolf skin's legs.

As his feet stretched forward and wrapped around the hooves, his fingers extended outward from his palms and clenched into sharp claws. With each motion, his muscles pulsated and contracted, pushing outwards as the slimy substance continued to grow thicker. After completely reshaping both forelegs, he focused on the rear ones, making sure they too were strong enough to support his weight and facilitate movement. Once completed, he allowed his upper torso to expand outwards, forming two massive shoulder blades that stood proudly along either side of his newly acquired spine.

The transformation process was near completion as his neck elongated, allowing the now powerful jaws to open wide. Unlike the delicate structure of a regular wolf, these teeth bore resemblance to those of a wild carnivore. Rising up to stand on all fours, Wataru tested his newly adapted strength by flexing the bulging muscles beneath his sleek, dark coat. He gazed intently at his reflection in the murky water nearby, marveling at the incredible feat he'd accomplished.

Transformed fully into a powerful creature, Wataru now possessed remarkable agility, speed, and endurance, characteristics that would serve him well as he navigated this hostile new terrain. Yet, there remained one significant concern — how exactly was he supposed to adapt to this baffling reality and locate a means to return home? His thoughts turned grim as he considered the possibility of never seeing his family again.

At that moment, the wind picked up, carrying the faint whispers of distant voices approaching closer.

The anxiety in Wataru heightened as he crouched low behind the thick undergrowth, concealing himself effectively amongst the lush foliage. Throughout his panicked rumination, Wataru's acute sense of hearing allowed him to discern an unusual pattern emerging from the surrounding flora. Treading carefully and maintaining caution, he managed to intercept three individuals passing through a narrow pathway adjacent to his cover.

Their conversation carried throughout the treetops, piercing the otherwise silent ambiance. Curiosity piqued, Wataru pressed his ear close to the earth to better hear their discussion. The murmurs revealed fragments of personal accounts and plans for a future journey. One of them mentioned joining forces with several guild members for protection purposes, citing numerous dangers lurking within these mysterious lands.

Captivated by their exchange, Wataru hesitantly approached the trio undetected.

Closely observing their movements, he noted their attire consisted primarily of leather armor accented with various accessories, giving off an impression of expertise in combat skills. Their weapons appeared worn and battle-tested, indicating years spent honing their craft. The leader of the group sported a confident demeanor, exuding authority as he directed his comrades with ease. Each member demonstrated proficiency in handling their respective tools of trade, leaving Wataru impressed by their prowess.

As he observed them from afar, he couldn't help but admire their camaraderie and determination to overcome whatever challenges lay ahead. While listening to their discussions, he learned valuable insights regarding the perilous landscape they inhabited, providing essential knowledge for his survival journey.

Nolan, the young warrior leading the group, displayed exceptional skill in swordsmanship and strategizing tactics. Although his features suggested a quiet disposition, his leadership qualities commanded respect from his peers. Beneath his composed exterior, however, lay hidden emotional turmoil, stemming from feelings of isolation and self-discovery. This inner conflict fueled his resolve to protect those closest to him, ultimately driving him towards success in his endeavors.

Meanwhile, Ed, the young healer exhibited an unwavering dedication to preserving the health and vitality of his companions, employing potent herbal remedies and restorative techniques to keep them fighting fit. Though initially reserved, the healer gradually opened up to the group, revealing his innate kindness and empathetic nature.

His gentle touch and compassionate words offered solace amidst the chaos of their dangerous journeys. Notably, it was evident that despite his introverted personality, Ed had found his place within the group, fostering trust between everyone.

Lastly, there was the enigmatic North - a skilled thief whose adeptness in evading traps and disarming opponents rendered him indispensable to the party. Concealed beneath a tight-fitting black mask, his identity remained shrouded in mystery, adding intrigue to the already captivating ensemble. As Wataru watched them interact, he could not help but notice the chemistry shared between North and Nolan, hinting at a deep connection between the pair.

Satisfied with his observations, Wataru decided to follow the group surreptitiously, hoping to gain more insightful information about their objectives and methods.

As the daylight started to fade, the adventurers chose to set camp within the confines of a vast cave opening situated just beyond the woods. Gingerly edging closer, Wataru studied their preparations meticulously, taking note of their routines and rituals.

Ed, the group's healer, diligently prepared meals for the night while the others tended to their equipment, ensuring everything functioned optimally. Meanwhile, Nolan maintained vigilant watch over their surroundings, keenly monitoring potential threats lurking nearby.

Sword in hand, he kept his fellow adventurers safe from harm, demonstrating immense valor and poise even in the most trying circumstances. The sound of crackling fire filled the air, casting a soft glow on the faces of the weary travelers as they sought refuge from the cold evening chill. Within this haven of light and warmth, friendships were solidified, bonding the group together through shared experiences and adversities faced along their arduous journey.

After a long day, finally they decide to take a rest, Nolan will stay as first shift guarding while other sleep.

Everyone else settled down comfortably for the night, reclining against large rocks and fallen tree trunks scattered across the expanse of the cavern floor. Despite exhaustion setting in, conversations among the group members persisted late into the night, reflecting on past exploits and sharing stories of their individual lives back home. Ed, always the consummate listener, absorbed every word spoken with genuine interest, occasionally offering thoughtful commentaries on each tale.

Throughout the night, Wataru witnessed a display of camaraderie and companionship rarely seen outside of familial bonds. These connections formed the foundation upon which they would continue to depend upon during their time traversing this unforgiving land.

The moonlit sky painted the walls of the cavern with a silver sheen, illuminating the room with a calm luminosity. Amidst the rustle of leaves and the screech of nocturnal creatures, the melodic hum of conversation filled the space, creating an atmosphere brimming with life and warmth.

After a few hours, Nolan wake North up to take next shift guard, while he head to rest.

Understanding the importance of such duties, North accepted without complaint, displaying unwavering commitment to his role within the group. Slipping away silently into the darkness, he vanished into the shadows beyond the campfire's reach.

Although tired, Nolan struggled to find sleep. With his emotions spiralling, the warrior felt torn between his desire for companionship and his longing for independence. Despite being surrounded by friends, Nolan often found himself wrestling with internal conflicts that threatened to consume him whole.

His yearning for affection resonated deeply within him, urging him to seek solitude and contemplate the complexities of his emotions. In times of despair, he questioned whether love truly existed, wondering if happiness ever awaited him beyond these tumultuous lands.

Dawn arrived slowly, painting the cavern walls with a subtle hue as rays of sunshise filtered through tiny cracks in the rock formations above. It seemed only fitting that amidst this tranquil environment, Ed would arise before anyone else, eager to greet the morning with renewed energy.

Drawing water from a natural spring flowing beneath the surface, he began brewing a refreshing elixir tailored specifically for each individual's needs. Watching him prepare nourishment for the group, one could almost see his care and devotion radiating from his pores. Every action performed held meaning, conveying an underlying message of concern and friendship toward his companions.

Inside the sheltered alcove nestled deeper within the cavern, Nolan took advantage of this respite from the harsh conditions of the outside world.

Seeking privacy, he delved further into his introspective thoughts, allowing himself to ponder upon the myriad of emotions coursing through his veins. Overwhelmed yet determined, he resolved to confront his fears, knowing full well that facing his demons would serve as a catalyst for growth and self-discovery.

Meanwhile, the sounds of Ed preparing breakfast reverberated faintly through the stone passageways, providing a calming rhythm in contrast to the chaotic storm raging within Nolan's heart.

Engrossed in his meditative state, Nolan allowed the sensual cadence of creation to seep into his consciousness, instilling serenity alongside its culinary aroma. Gradually, this peaceful atmosphere eased his burdened soul, granting him much needed clarity. However, when he glanced around, his gaze came to rest upon the distant figure of North, standing sentry near the entrance of the cavern. Witnessing his loyalty to the group, something stirred within Nolan's chest, awakening an unwanted tenderness.

He could hardly deny the fact that his heart swelled with pride whenever observing North's dedication and bravery. And yet, despite these affirmations, confusion continued to plague his mind – unable to decipher whether his feelings extended beyond mere comradery.

Ed's voice broke the silence, interrupting Nolan's stream of thoughts. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern. Without hesitation, Nolan turned to face him directly, acknowledging the sincerity behind the query.

"Yes," he replied, attempting to mask his vulnerability. "Just lost myself in thought." Ed nodded understandingly, accepting the response while maintaining a look of mild curiosity etched onto his features. "We all have our moments," he offered reassuringly, his expression indicating sympathy mixed with supportiveness.

These simple exchanges provided momentary relief, easing some of the weight bearing down upon Nolan's shoulders. Realizing he couldn't fully articulate his internal struggle, he opted instead to focus on the present task at hand.

Climbing to his feet, Nolan retrieved a bowl containing the nutritious mixture crafted by Ed earlier. Grateful for the sustenance, he thanked the healer graciously. Observing their interactions, Wataru noticed the ease with which they communicated, highlighting the strong rapport developed amongst the party members. Their unity transcended mere teamwork; they were undeniably bound by trust and respect forged through trials encountered together.

While it appeared that Nolan had managed to suppress his inner turmoil, a shadow of doubt still loomed in the peripheries of his conscience. He wondered if his longing for intimacy could ever translate into reciprocal admiration, questioning whether his true desires lay buried beneath layers of fear and apprehension.

North returned shortly afterward, relinquishing control of the post to someone equally capable as himself. Together, the two stood side by side, discussing plans for their impending excursion deeper into the treacherous terrain ahead.

Although initially cautious due to prior encounters with bandits and dangerous wildlife, Nolan remained steadfast in his determination to overcome obstacles. Convincing North to join forces, the pair strategized ways to mitigate risks associated with their perilous undertaking. Trust flourished between them, growing stronger with each challenge conquered.

Wataru observed this dynamic duo from afar, marveling at their compatibility and ability to inspire one another. Understanding the significance of their partnership, he decided not to intervene - choosing instead to let destiny unfold naturally.

After finish their preparation, the party start to move on.

The path was rough and uneven, covered with thorns bushes and muddy parts. Trekking forward, everyone tried hard to avoid slips, falls, or worse accidents. Their physical strength tested, their hearts racing from the effort required to progress forward.

As the journey wore on, fatigue set in, forcing them to stop periodically for brief periods of recuperation. During breaks, Ed would provide refreshments designed to restore vitality levels while ensuring proper hydration.

Drawing on his extensive knowledge of herbs and potent mixtures, he consistently demonstrated unparalleled skill in maintaining health throughout challenging circumstances. This dedication earned him immense gratitude from his fellow travelers, fostering a deep sense of appreciation and reliance among the group.

As they pushed forth into the unknown landscape, occasional whispers about mysterious creatures lurking nearby circulated throughout the ranks. Although tales of ferocity abounded, none dared to speak openly about potential threats.

Instead, they focused on navigating the rugged terrain with precision, carefully mapping routes to minimize risk exposure. Unbeknownst to them, however, danger lurked just beyond the horizon.

Despite the arduous journey, spirits remained high as the party ventured closer towards their destination. Each step taken brought them closer to achieving their goals, bolstering morale and fortifying resolve. Throughout the day, conversations ranged from past experiences to hypotheses regarding what might lie ahead.

As nightfall approached, the group finally reached the threshold of Abandon Village. Its once majestic structures now reduced to crumbling remnants, testament to the ravages of time and neglect. Silhouettes cast eerily against the backdrop of twisted trees and decaying edifices, evoking a haunting ambiance.

Upon entering the village gates, their footsteps echoed softly across the weathered stones, conjuring images of ancient heroes seeking answers amid ruined grandeur. Emboldened by camaraderie, they stepped boldly into the darkness, ready to confront whatever fate may bring.

Exploring the dim alleys of Abandon Village, every corner revealed more wreckage left in the wake of time. Cobwebs blanketing dilapidated buildings served as silent witnesses to days gone by, hinting at stories forgotten yet not completely obliterated.

Chapter 2

Following the adventurer group led by the brave North, Wataru found himself entranced by the sight of Nolan and the enchanting thief interacting during the break. The combination of emotions emitting from both parties piqued his interest significantly. Curiosity grew stronger within him, yearning to understand the depth of their connection better.

The way Nolan looked at North spoke volumes without uttering a single word. It seemed there existed an undefinable bond between them, surpassing mere friendship, perhaps even bordering on romantic inclinations. Wataru became increasingly fascinated by the dynamics developing before his very eyes.

Beneath the moonlit sky, ghostly figures emerged from the shadows. Mesmerised by the ethereal beauty surrounding them, the entire group halted in midstep, captivated by the enigma playing out before their eyes.

With each passing second, suspicion intensified, fueling an almost palpable anticipation. Intrigued by the sudden change in atmosphere, Wataru quietly trailed behind, eager to observe events unfolding organically.

Night birds circled overhead, creating a symphony of dissonant melodies punctuated occasionally by shrill screeches. Moonlight danced off worn surfaces, casting grotesque shapes into the mix. Damp air hung heavy with the lingering essence of secrets unveiling themselves slowly through the mist.

"These ghosts, take no phycical damage!" Ed shout, thrown a holy water vials to both Nolan and North. "Coat your weapon with holy water!"

Nolan instructed, swiftly dipping his sword into the vial handed to him. With calculated movements, he proceeded cautiously toward the spectral apparitions, prepared to engage any imminent threat. Standing beside him, North mirrored his tactics, demonstrating remarkable composure under pressure.

Amidst the chaos, Wataru observed the couple, studying their actions closely. Noticing the confident strides of Nolan and the composed mannerisms exhibited by North, he felt inspired by their resilience.

But ghost is very bad enemy for warrior or theif.

"I will use Blessing Ground to expel them all! It's take sometime, please guard me during that."

Ed start to perform a holy ritual while both companions guarding him.

North's keen senses picked up on something amiss within the shifting shadows – whispers of movement drawing ever closer. Gripping his weapons tightly, adrenaline coursed through his veins as instinct took hold. Nolan's heart raced frantically, his body primed for battle. Their gazes locked, conveying mutual understanding despite being unable to share words aloud.

Meanwhile, Wataru followed suit, staying close enough to watch their actions attentively.

His heart pounding rapidly, the intensity of the situation heightening with each passing moment. Stealthily circling around the edges of the room, he surveyed the area meticulously, making note of any possible entry points for further adversaries.

Emotions ran high as Nolan and North engaged in fierce combat against malevolent spectres. Despite their efforts, several entities breached their defenses, causing momentary panic to grip them. Nonetheless, the pair regained their bearings quickly, adapting their strategy accordingly to nullify the threats.

Ed's body start to glowing. He still close his eyes, whispering a holy spell.

Slowly, he raise hands upwards, forming a circle above the ground. Then he chant sacred mantras, moving slow circles around it. Around him, the atmosphere gradually changes: the chilling wind calms down, becoming gentle. The rain stops falling, leaving only light drizzle remaining.

The holy energy surrounds him, filling up the space. Everyone stand close to him, feeling power flowing around them. And then the transformation begins, spiritual force starts cleanse everything around them, driving away evil spirits.

As the ghosts disappear, the atmosphere becomes less oppressive. Sensing the shift, Nolan and North exhaled simultaneously, relief evident upon their faces. The powerful energy continued to swirl around them, instilling a sense of peace. Almost instantaneously, the divine presence began fading, leaving behind a serenely charged air.

During these intense moments, their bodies were intertwined together, fighting hand-to-hand against supernatural enemies. Both could feel their hearts beat furiously, fueled by fear and desire to protect one another.

"I think this area is cleanse form any spirital monster." said Ed. "Weak monster also will not want to come around a scred ground, at least for tonight. Too bad this spell is comsume too much magical energy."

Said Ed, breathing heavily after performing the holy ritual. "It would take some time to recover my strength. Please continue exploring the village while I rest."

Nolan nodded gratefully, appreciative of Ed's considerate gesture. Together, they carefully navigated the eerie landscape, surveying every corner diligently. Although relieved to have vanquished the immediate danger, unease lingered beneath the surface. The notion of hidden foes remained a constant concern.

North maintained vigilance alongside Nolan, ensuring nothing went unnoticed. Their combined skills proved invaluable, allowing them to work seamlessly as a cohesive unit. Each move was executed with precision, reflecting years of experience honed through countless battles.

Unbeknownst to them, Wataru had been following from a distance, keeping tabs on their progress. Fascination consumed him, compelling him to remain close yet maintaining covertness. Watching the trio interact intrigued him deeply, sparking curiosity about their relationship dynamic.

He couldn’t help but admire their unwavering determination, courageously confronting various perils. Unseen forces seemed to test their resolve repeatedly, posing challenges which demanded fortitude and strategic thinking. Throughout the arduous journeys, trust and respect appeared to bind their alliance firmly. This display of unity inspired Wataru profoundly, stirring feelings of longing for companionship such as what he witnessed amongst the adventurers.

Emboldened by the thought of having someone by his side through thick and thin, in Wataru. the idea of joining forces began to materialise in his mind. However, uncertainty plagued him – should he approach them? Would they accept him? What would become of his own mission to find a means back to Earth? All doubts notwithstanding, Wataru resolved to put forth effort into gaining their trust and eventually earn a place among their ranks.

But its' will never happen, to a wolf, or actually slime like him. He can't even talk! He sigh while watching a far.

His thoughts drift towards the possibility of replacing one of them. Imagine possessing the physical prowess of Nolan, the charm of the mysterious thief, or even the quiet confidence of North. Such desires only served to ignite his fervor further.

Observing the three individuals grow ever closer, Wataru felt envious of their intimate connections. Witnessing their shared experiences and hardships, his longing deepened.

"Let's explore," proposed Nolan, breaking the silence as he gestured towards a nearby structure. The others readily agreed, their enthusiasm infectious. Determined to garner information regarding the source of the haunting, they trudged ahead bravely.

Admiration for their sheer tenacity radiated from Wataru's core.

Unable to quell his growing affinity for the duo, he decided to investigate further. Leaving his concealed position, he approached cautiously, careful not to alert the unsuspecting adventurers. Curiosity piqued, he peered through the windows of the dimly lit building, straining to catch a glimpse of their activities. Patience paid dividends when he finally caught sight of Nolan skillfully handling an ancient scroll, while North expertly interpreted its contents.

Observing their synchronized efforts revealed a harmonious blend of talents—their rapport striking.

Feeling increasingly envious, Wataru contemplated the benefits of bonding with one of them. How wonderful it must be to belong to a partnership such as theirs, sharing triumphs and tribulations. Envy turned to jealousy as he imagined himself experiencing those intimacies firsthand. Longing grew stronger within him, demanding action.

After finish check some surround. They decide it must time to rest. Since the area is safe. They're all can take full rest and continue on explore in the moring.

Ed suggested as they settled themselves comfortably.

Leading the way, Nolan guided his companions to a seemingly abandoned dwelling, offering respite amidst the eeriness of the village. Shrugging off their armor, they shed layers of sweat-soaked clothing, exposing scarred flesh and raw vulnerability.

Within the confines of the house, a faint candlelight illuminated the dusty corners, casting dancing shadows across walls. Its crumbling foundation spoke volumes about the history embedded within these very bricks.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs along the floorboards, providing evidence of past tremors or simply age-induced wear. With little choice but to make do, the trio made themselves comfortable on the creaking furniture.

Nolan chose a worn-out chair beside the crackling fireplace, carved into the wall by unknown artisans eons ago. Closing his eyes, he allowed exhaustion to consume him, seeking solace in dreamless sleep. In contrast, North opted for a lumpy mattress situated near the entrance.

Ed found a room with crumble bed, but it's still good for adventure who always sleep on the cold ground. Left North and Nolan next to lit fireplace.

Chapter 3

Nolan seem sleep, but he actually still not.

His mind drifts back to earlier interactions, replaying them in vivid detail. He remembers North's carefree laughter echoing throughout the forest and the undeniable chemistry between them during their latest escapade. These fleeting memories serve as fuel for his imagination, painting vibrant pictures of tender encounters and passionate rendezvous.

Aware of his growing fascination, Nolan wrestles with conflicting emotions - admiration for North's selfless nature and yearning for more personal involvement.

Unable to suppress his desires any longer, he makes a decision to pursue his aspirations boldly. Reaching out for sleeping North confidentially, he initiates contact with tentative steps. His heart races wildly as anticipation takes hold, awaiting reciprocation or rejection.

North wake up and look at Nolan,

"What up?" He asked.

Confused, North glanced down to see Nolan's hand resting upon his shoulder. Glancing upward, their gaze locked, eliciting warmth and familiarity. As understanding dawned upon North, a flush crept onto his cheeks, indicating an awareness of the situation. Despite initial hesitation, a smile formed on his lips.

Realization struck Nolan as well, acknowledging the mutual attraction that lay dormant until now.

Confidence bolstered, he reached out once again, drawing North into a tender embrace. Passion surged between them, intensifying with each subtle movement. Lips met in a gentle kiss, gradually evolving into something deeper and fiercer. Urgency took hold, leading them to undress one another eagerly. Bodies entangled with ravenous intensity, communicating without words their insatiable hunger for connection. Emotional barriers collapsed under the weight of their desire, unveiling true selves to one another.

Beneath this facade of bravery existed vulnerabilities, insecurities, and fears that only they could understand fully. In their embrace, they sought refuge from external threats while nurturing the sanctuary within. Every touch sent ripples coursing through their bodies, evoking sensations beyond anything either had previously encountered. Subconsciously, Wataru observed the unfolding events with baited breath, envy melding into something more powerful than mere covetousness.

Amidst the chaos of battle and exploration, an unexpected connection bloomed within the hearts of two adventurers. Although distant and unaware of Wataru's presence, his fascination heightened to a point of obsession.

Inspired by the intense passion displayed before him, he determined to form similar bonds of affection despite being unable to express himself verbally. If there were ways to bridge the communication gap, perhaps finding common ground via experiences or interests would suffice. Regardless, this revelatory moment marked a turning point for Wataru.

Observing the couple share intimacy kindled in him an uncontrollable urge to experience a similar depth of emotional attachment. Driven by desire, desire turn to lust, lust turn to envy,

envy turns to desperation. Desperate to belong, craving connection and intimacy just like them. Desperate to taste their forbidden fruit, his curiosity burned hot, leaving no room for reason or logic. His heart raced frantically, blood pumping faster, adrenaline flooding his veins as his sexual appetite grew. And suddenly, he knew what he wanted...

[dirthara-dalen]

Alliance Alert: meditate in your Alderaan estate gardens

Contact: ??????

Overview: ????

Ligastar was very confused when Theron claimed the alliance alert was not visible on his data pad. Even Lana claimed there was nothing there. How was he the only one seeing it?! 

With great reluctance he traveled to the estate on Alderaan and found a decent spot to meditate. For what felt like hours he meditated yet nothing happened. Just as he was about to give up he suddenly felt his consciousness being pulled. It felt the same as when he had entered Satele’s mind. However, this was different; it felt as if his mind was being pulled into the force.

As the sensation faded he found himself standing in some ruins which he recognized as Alderaanian. What he did not recognize was the figure that stood before him. For a brief moment he thought the Mirialan was Cain. However, unlike Cain the man had dark red hair. Scars that cut through his tattoos riddled his face indicating he had seen quite a bit of combat.

“Who are you?”

“I’m not surprised Jeeta had not spoken about me…I am the black sheep of the family after all.”

That voice, Ligastar recognized it as the voice that spoke to him on Iokath. “I will ask again, who are you?”

“I am Cain Kallig, Jeeta’s younger fraternal twin brother.”

Cain? This was Cain’s namesake? “I think my father named my twin after you.”

“I know…though I did nothing to deserve such an honor. Besides, I used to go by Kai which most of those who knew me came to call me.”

“What do you mean?”

Cain or, as he put it, Kai explained everything to him. Like his brother he was believed to be a model Jedi knight, until Revan went to war. Unlike his brother he struggled greatly, it's the dark side. When Revan returned he joined him in fighting the republic. He had even taught at the academy on Korriban. It was only after Revan’s fall and Malak’s defeat had he realized the true weight of what he had done in the galaxy. He had believed himself beyond redemption thus he attacked Jeeta in hopes his brother would kill him and he did. Before he had died he had sworn an oath to his brother to do his best to protect those he loved from within the force itself.

That was the moment he had been redeemed. Kai revealed that by having Jeeta bound to him, he was able to intervene and shield him. Ligastar asked if this meant he had fulfilled his oath. Kai told him it would take more than saving just Ligastar to fulfill his oath. He had asked him here to thank him for defeating Tenebrae and that he would continue to watch over him.

The moment Ligastar found himself back in reality he set about adding to the archives he had begun working on. With Jeeta’s help, he restored Kai’s story to their family’s archive. Cain needed to know about his namesake.

[one-way-dream]

BAS02 & Ashes

Rating: General

Words: 880+

Media: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow The Hedgehog (2005)

Characters: Shadow the Hedgehog, Maria Robotnik (Mentioned), Rouge the Bat (Mentioned), Sonic the Hedgehog (Mentioned), Black Doom (Mentioned)

Tags: Character Introspection, Second-Person POV, Experimental <- doesn't know what they're doing, Dark-Dark Route (Shadow the Hedgehog 2005), Conflicting Feelings, Guilt, Guy who is too far gone and maybe regrets it

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Chapter: 1/1

Link to the original work

AO3 Summary/Except:

"Had Maria’s wish ever mattered to you? Or have you already fulfilled it that day you became one with the stars?"

-

Very messy and very experimental. I've never written anything this short and unpolished in my life. ❤️

The cold, dry, air of the fortress blasts against your face, almost as if it was burning, until the air becomes still. It’s stale against the tip of your nose and you think that sensation should’ve pulled a familiar chord in your heart as it once would have.

It’s a feeling akin to nostalgia that strikes you, one that you shut down immediately, but for those fleeting moments they reek of a spacecraft so desolate it could be mistaken for a moon; one that the girl in your dreams might have charted, believing it to be a star during your nights side by side, warmth and gentle lavender-vanilla radiating off of her.

But you’ve never been able to reciprocate heat the way humans do, because you were merely a leech – you’ve never been a warm body yourself.

Factory lights flicker overhead, the click of machine guns reloading in the distance, and the desperation of human beings hangs thickly in the air.

It's such a familiar scene.

But…

The loneliness has already rotted you to your core, and those feelings don’t mean anything to you anymore. All that matters is seeing it through to the end.

After all, this is pure.

This is vengeance in its entirety.

Green catches your eye before you notice that it was a soldier’s gaze – murky fear and hostility blend together until they cannot be pulled apart. It’s almost an amusing sight, but the word pathetic comes easier. That look is so painfully human, and you once thought you knew what it meant to be human; but you'd thought wrong, because with each passing second the idea of humanity for an ultimate weapon slips away, pooling at your feet in the form of bullet shells and smoke that clings to your vision.

It’s too much trouble to get rid of him, so instead you rip your gaze away from the man first when it starts to burn; because it’s too much to take, because there’s no time to waste, and maybe because you’re almost reminded of the time someone had once tried to teach you to love humans despite their flaws. But a weapon shouldn't be capable of that to begin with. It’s a hindrance and a flaw in what is meant to be flawless; a bug in your programming – the only thing left for you to do is patch it. Destroy it.

A voice suddenly reaches your ear amidst all the chaos of battle, realizing that someone is yelling at you, scalding, desperate as you feel the wind from their wings.

(You think you know who she is, but you tune it out anyways.)

It's too late for second chances, too late for half-baked truths. Not when you're already so far gone beyond the point of return. You feel a laugh escaping over your dry tongue, wondering why Sonic and the others even bother trying anymore.

The bitterness coils in your gut like a venomous snake, wrapping around like a ribbon and squeezing until you’re a breath away from a pained groan. It’s not real, you remind yourself, deliriously half-laughing under your breath, until the serpent strikes, and you find yourself tripping on your own two left feet.

But there's no time to hesitate. Not when you're so close. Not when you're at the final frontier of humanity – a pathetic excuse for a shelter meant to give an inkling of hope to the last soldiers.

All it'll take is one shot to end it all. It has to be swift, though you're unsure if it should be painless. For whatever reason, bile nearly rises to your mouth with a choked hiccup at the thought of making those worthless humans suffer any longer than they already have.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind however, a heavy sigh leaves your lips as you skip to a stop in front of the last gun turret.

Yet another defect found in your system. What a pain.

(It can't be afforded.)

You have no goal but to be perfect, after all. Perfect carnage. Perfect destruction. Perfect revenge. That’s what you were made for, and you have a debt to repay with your life.

‘A life for a life’, as Black Doom had once said – but you still have yet to ask him what exactly he means.

It’s unknown whether everything will go out with a bang or a whimper; should everything bleed into nothingness until everything is still and stale, like the air on the ARK, and it still won’t matter.

Had Maria’s wish ever mattered to you? Or have you already fulfilled it that day you became one with the stars?

Was pretending to misremember her words and her feelings the easy way out? Or was it just the most sensible?

Sometimes your mind, or whatever is left of it, wanders - the little doubt you have left festers in the back in your brain like poison as you wonder if any of these thoughts are even your own, or if perhaps, Black Doom dug his claws into your spines at some point, like the puppet you were always meant to be.

But you are and always were a tool; regardless of whether these thoughts were your own or not, you are a means to an end. A means to humanity's end. 

[goldendivinewrath]

@full-of-mercy

He isn't--

It's not--

This exact situation is not in Vash's experience. There's nothing that manages to completely prepare him for what to expect. He knows what the pleasures of touch feel like, both for himself and for an occasional curious partner, if often a bit lacking on one side of things-- The rest of that idea isn't really worth pursuing. It's not a fully new sensation, is the point.

What Wolfwood is doing, accomplishing, reveling in, is something so far and beyond anything Vash has ever felt that it immediately knocks the ability to speak right out of him. It's a surge of electric warmth through his abdomen, igniting every limb; and that includes nerves that aren't technically there anymore.

It's. So good. And so overwhelming. Arcing, racing, electric and entirely beyond his control. Not that he's powerless; there's still a rhythm to this, somehow, like the one they can always find and follow when they're fighting, or running, or any other time they need to keep pace with each other. That said, he really, truly doesn't mean to grind himself up against the other man's mouth (and chin, and nose, while gasping sharply and rhythmically tensing and releasing his grasp on thankfully sturdy dark hair), but how is he supposed to resist past the shivering tremble in his thighs? And that, that-- No one is tipsy, there's no specific agreement in place for an exchange of pleasure, and Wolfwood is enjoying himself. He can tell, and it's a driving force in... this. He's never felt his petals open so readily before, teased and teasing, coaxed and flexing and surrendering, and there's a desperate little sound from the back of his throat when he feels--

Open. Really and truly, willing and wanting and only half-focused in the sight beneath him but oh it's helping. It's a little bit devastating, actually, to see and to feel at the same time. Petals unfurled in full, silken against lips and tongue, fully exposing the yellow tendril-lined entrance near the center, encouraging the tightly coiled bud above to radiate more heat, more sensitivity. The thought of it all is too much. The reality of how sensitive he already is, being grasped and held and pulled, barely registering the fact that he's locked gazes, his own eyes glowing well past the point of being able to hide or deny-- Too soon, too soon, too soon!

He does not stop Wolfwood. He does not want to stop Wolfwood. But he does try to force himself still to breathe a little. Breathe. Trembling and whimpering in a way that he will absolutely deny if confronted about later. Bits and pieces of other things that are happening tumble into his addled brain, and he realizes he could reach back and make more complete contact. He could. If he could unwind his fingers from Wolfwood's hair or from quite possibly grasping the worn bedding so tightly that it's rapidly gaining additional wear.

He wants to look. He wants to touch, he wants to explore and participate and be a little more openly encouraging, but then... he's probably doing a decent enough job with the way he's suddenly no longer trying to stop grinding against stimulation, head thrown back, spine suddenly arching sharply and--

Oh. Huh. Thoughts are... very distant. Or just a little bit broken up, but that's perfectly fine in the floaty warm pleasure that's enveloping him. There's a little space for lucid, coherent thought, tucked in the corner of his mind. The place where he knows he is going to embarrass himself thoroughly. He does, with halfhearted admonishment about a lack of warning before the sudden gush of nectar, the way the surface of his skin feels like it crackles with electricity, vibrating resonance more of a steady electric hum that almost makes his jaw ache... or are those sympathy pains..?

Oh. Shit. "S-sorry, I--" Things. Lots! That happened. Not regret! Just. Tangled.

None of that is getting through his mouth, he's sure. Probably not really anywhere else, considering, but he hopes maybe he's thinking it loudly enough. He's still sort of being held up by Wolfwood... he thinks. Hell, he could be on the floor and he wouldn't know or care, just trying to. Reconnect. To. Everything. Enough to... do something. More, or again. Or. Both.

Not in much of a rush, though. "Minute. Hold... one." Yeah, that's. Almost right.

With assent, intention becomes action and tentative touch becomes sure. Vash does not retreat; he could if he wanted to, is well within his rights to. He could escape, could withdraw, could call Nicholas out for the creature that he is, could make displeasure known, bring all of this to a halt. He doesn't.

It is—

Overwhelming. Unexpected. Selfish, hungry fantasy, but reality is so much more than dreams.

So, then, he endeavors to burn the sight into his retinas, etch the sensation into his bones, keep it for himself for as long as he draws breath - even if 'do what comes natural' are fine last words. Vash the Stampede so rarely expresses a want for anything material, anything substantial, anything from anyone else or the universe at large. It flares hot in Wolfwood's gut to be here in that lens, here in that point of focus, want answering want.

It is not what he anticipated. Sure, he is familiar with human anatomy for a variety of reasons. Sure, he knows that Vash is not strictly human. They have seen one another undressed, but it has never been anything more than needful. They work as a unit back to back in the thick of combat. They trust, and perhaps it translates.

Nicholas could not have predicted this. For all the differences, there are plenty of similarities, and everyone is unique…

There is so much to explore and he is eager to learn.

Wet. So wet. Already. Guttural and carnal Nicholas groans, vibrating through lips pressed to flesh, trailing off into a thinner and more desperate sound that he does not give himself time to reconcile as his own.

It might be better if he savors slowly, if he shows some restraint. He tries. He does, at least for a few moments, laving long and languid, luxuriating as if in the ripest of fruits, heedless of how it paints him literally, figuratively. Undeterred, he strokes the crinkled edges of unfurling petals with curious abandon. The feeling of fingers carding against his scalp joins the thread of electric heat coruscating down his spine and coalescing low in his belly, and it is in his nature to challenge Vash's grip. Just enough. Just so that it begins to burn, to sing.

Just so that he can cant his head, sheened nose to jaw, and look up with half-lidded and dark-blown eyes. Intoxicated, he flattens out his tongue, pressing the twisted bud at Vash's apex against his own pelvis, making his nose and lips and chin a platform for use.

It reminds him that he too has hands. Hands that are not presently engaged.

Hands that spare just a moment, dropping down to flick his own belt open, unbutton and unzip. He muffles his relieved moan amid approving rumble-hums that keep the meter of his breath.

Palms brace to the mattress, and with a bounce he hauls his legs up, feet sole to sole, knees bent, thighs spread. Freed from his trousers and boxer-briefs, shirt pulled and skewed as open as his harness will allow, Wolfwood can better ignore his own searing arousal. Naked and florid, vascular and straining, his cock bobs with his heartbeat and bounces with a reflexive rut against nothing. Clear pre wells and rolls, glossing the russet head of him. A single rivulet connects the rounded silver of his piercing to his own abdomen, shining in the dark trail of hair below his navel.

Braced and counterbalanced, he returns his hands to Vash, magnetized, ravenous. Grasping at his thighs and then at his backside, Wolfwood cups and squeezes, all with a growling thrum of appreciation. Mouth round, he leans up and in and knead-pulls Vash down by the hips, lending rhythm to rocking. His tongue curls, darts, bullying the sensitive-slick-swollen petals together with a noisy lisp-smack before snaking and dipping between.

If he had the wherewithal to think, he might marvel at how they resist, at how they interact, how they seem to grip against his tongue and curve against his lips. Right now, all he can think about is pushing Vash further. As far as they can go. As much as the blond is willing to take.

Swallow-hum, cheeks hollow, Nicholas sucks, pulling as much into blanketing heat as possible before letting it go, holding just the blooming bud captive.

With a short breath, he trills as if rolling an 'R,' tongue-tip still and then blurring quick. Fast and slow.

Intent.

[ketchtwotwo]

E4- Unexpected Alliances

Retracing his steps, Gesraks returned to the hideaway that had become his home. Along with the ghost and the body draped carelessly over his shoulder, Gesraks slid between two buildings, down a dark, narrow gap, eventually ending at a small lean-to concealed by a dark cloth. Slipping inside, several blue Eliksni eyes stared at Gesraks tentatively as they processed what they saw.

“Relax, friends. Everything is fine. The Light-bearer is dead. I have his companion and we are in an agreeance. It is safe.” Gesraks dropped the body without grace and rested at a knee. “There are more Light-bearers aboard the Ketch. They are fighting Adeshki-kel’s fighters. If we hurry, we may be able to take one of their ships. Pack only what you need. Leave everything else.”

As the Eliksni scrambled, the ghost stared at Gesraks intensely. “I did not agree to this, Gesraks.”

Gesraks sighed heavily. “I do not think you understand how being captive works, ghost. I did not ask permission because I do not desire your approval. If I can save these Eliksni, I will do so.” Gesraks scooped up the guardian as well as a small bag of his own belonings. “We have lost enough time. Everyone, follow. The ghost will lead us to his ship.” Gesraks did not wait for the robot’s protests. He slipped beyond the cloth and began leading his people.

As he shepherded his followers out of the narrow path, they made a break for the top deck of the Ketch, per the ghost’s description, where they were to find six guardian vessels. The sound of combat had dwindled significantly, but Gesraks could tell the battle raged on. Ameshki-kel’s forces must be dwindling, Gesraks thought. We will not have much time. Navigating familiar passages, and avoiding any conflict, the group arrived quickly to the deck. As described, six ships floated alongside the Ketch, seemingly frozen in time, as if they were painted against the black ink of the void.

“The ugly one,” the ghost chimed. “Yellow and orange. I tried to tell him not to...”

“No matter,” Gesraks interrupted. “We are taking them all.” Through some forceful negotiations, the ghost reluctantly agreed to access the ships and allow the Eliksni on board. “The nearest inhabited planet, Ghost. Get my people to safety.” The Ghost shouted back in agreement as ships began taking off one by one. “All right. Our turn. I’ll get your man on the ship and then--”

Gesraks was interrupted as he spoke. A painful, burning sensation in his bottom right arm had suddenly become his sole focus. Whirling around, emerging from the interior of the Ketch, was Ameshki-kel, holding a smoking line rifle. Flanking him was one of his new captains, who appeared to be severly injured, and a young vandal, who probably owned the rifle.

“Thank you, Gesraks,” Ameshki-kel yelled across the deck. “I see you have arranged your Kell’s escape. Now back away from that ship.”

Gesraks darted his eyes amongst his threats. It didn’t appear that any of them had seen the ghost, nor did they seem to care why he was holding a dead Light-bearer. They are trying to flee. No time for questions. Must have been followed...

“Go on, now, Gesraks,” the Kell continued. “Step aside. I would hate to have to kill you after such honorable servitude.” The Kell kept talking, insinuated insults, and flaunted his position. But Gesraks was no longer listening. He had begun to whisper.

“If I remember correctly, Ameshki, you are no Kell of mine.” The corpse on Gesrak’s shoulder dematerialized. Standing, now beside Gesraks, was the Guardian, alive and well. Across the deck, Ameshki’s eyes widened in realization. He raised his borrowed rifle, and his captain readied a launcher. Gesraks, now with his gun arm no longer holding the Light-bearer, also pointed his gun at his kin. “This is how it is going to go, Ameshki. The guardian and I are boarding that ship. We can do that after killing you, if that is what you prefer.”

“Uh, Lynel?” The guardian asked the Ghost. “What’s happening here?”

“Talk later. We need to move!” Without another word, the Guardian slammed down a glittering, purple barrier between himself and the Eliksni, not minding that it came into contact with Gesraks. Gesraks recoiled in pain as the shield burned him, but, despite his discomfort, decided it was a better feeling that the rounds prevented by the shield would have caused. With the danger diminished, the ghost, Lynel, transmatted both his guardian and Gesraks onto the ship. The ship’s alarms began to flare as the Eliksni below diverted their aim from the shield and onto the aircraft.

“Lynel! Why is there a Fallen Captain on my ship?!” The Guardian demanded as he strapped himself in. “And what the hell are these coordinates?” The ship pulled from the Ketch and its alarms quieted as they flew deeper into space.

Lynel let out a heavy sigh. “His name is Gesraks. I don’t think he’ll hurt us.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Real nice guy I bet,” The Guardian spat. “Where the hell are you taking us?”

“The Fallen took all of our fireteam’s ships. We’ll find them at those coordinates. They didn’t seem like fighters, Miles. In fact, Gesraks was the only one with a gun.”

The guardian’s head fell. “This isn’t going to look good to the Vanguard. Get Zavala on the line.”

[lightcreators]

@moonshinemuses​

Misty  times  that  had  erupted  from  a  particular  chessboard  had  never  ended:  nor  that  mist  made  future  prospects  complicated,  where  a  constant  presence  hadn’t  been  enough  to  hold  a  king  slowly  decaying  in  his  distress;  nor  rain  of  suffering  to  which  a  meeting  in  a  chessboard  of  a  persistent  rain  had  left  no  light.  Perhaps  it  was  due  to  this  habit  ingrained  for  years  now,  in  this  long  period  of  a  rivalry  on  high  spheres  in  which  he  had  played  role  of  a  mastermind,  that  he  offered  an  amused  smile.  A  present  temptation  to  use  sarcastic  sentences,  to  assert  mimics  of  derision,  to  take  advantage  of  this  short  moment  to  engulf  himself  in  playfulness  appear  on  his  lips,  which  were  simply  closed  in  a  simple  smirk.  The  Underground  always  had  been  lonely  without  her,  and  he  passed  so  many  centuries  removed  of  her  presence  old  habits  no  longer  managed  to  show  through  as  before  …  replaced  themselves  by  others  customs  anchored  inside  his  behavior,  to  which  open  echo  of  his  heart  was  an  expression  known  only  to  her  …  and  of  the  kid  whose  keen  gaze  he  could  neither  avoid  nor  his  spectacular  comprehension  of  his  noble  self  in  every  corner.  Inside  ancient  times,  when  barriers  of  his  heart  had  been  untouched  and  never  damaged,  perception  of  that  latent  sadness  wouldn’t  endlessly  controlled  for  be  less  guessed.  That  part  of  himself  that  he  lose,  that  fragmented  lock  which  he  had  rendered  unreachable except  for  his  Queen  had  been  forcibly  destroyed  could  never  find  sufficient  healing  or  strong  protection to  be  reassured  on  guarantee  of  the  lock  installed:  he  had  in  his  concerns  of  this  immortal  and  a  worrying  look  of  witches,  without  feeling  any  relief.  Though,  not  everything  was  about  responsabilities,  when  his  mind  couldn’t  hardly  wander.  He  had  always  eyes  about  evolution  of  Lelouch  vi  Britannia  path,  when  regardless  absence  of  an  presence  and  constant  mocking  voice  in  his  ears,  he  remained  that  silent  presence  protecting  him  from  danger,  but  couldn’t  remove  this  guilt  eating  him  within  except  to  be  this  compassionate  shoulder  whose  tender  affection  he  would  refuse  even  now.  He  was  unable  to  temporarily  forget  the  kid  in  his  thoughts,  to  whom  his  trust  was  becoming  hesitant  on  any  magnificent  display  he  could  honor  his  presence,  and  feared  that  he  would  see  him  again  considering  the  Underground  as  a  holiday  club  in  which  he  could  do  anything  he  wanted  —  like  sitting  on  his  throne  when  he  was  away  or  risking  mocking  Thanatos.  Beyond  having  to  think  of  this  kid  in  a  broad  perspective  his  divine  reassurance  brought  little  results  —  between  constant  thoughts  of  fear  of  being  ignored,  and  occasional  remarks  in  distortion  of  his  behavior  in  grudge  of  sensation  of  having  been  forgotten  …    ❝  Here  you  are  again  at  home  ~ ☆  ❞  He  welcomed  her  playfully  and  brightfully,  even  if  he  sensed  his  hues  of  joy  were  more  measured  and  still  had  heaviness  of  his  pain.    ❝  We’ve  waited  long  enough  for  this  moment,  haven’t  we  ?    ❞  He  asked  rhetorically.  For  a  brief  moment,  germination  of  an  idea  of  a  party  appeared  in  his  mind,  nevertheless  had  lost  that  urge  for  a  long  time,  to  be  suddenly  resurrected  in  an  occassion  …  however,  although  it  seemed  plausible  in  the  means,  these  fragments  of  illusions  would  shatter  further.  In  front  of  her,  he  could  allow  himself  a  pout  of  displeasure  at  realization  that  he  wouldn’t  be  able  to  be  all  smiles  at  a  party  —  although  that  dark  world  of  the  Underground  would  have  a  temporary  enchanted  opening.  Although  the  kid  knew  how  to  give  Halloween  honor  by  giving  bloody  candies  to  a  certain  Witch  of  Origins  to  whom  the  witches  laughter  of  approval  was  an  macabre  melody  …  Sometimes  he  considered  this  as  an  indirect  praise  to  his  honor  from  this  kid,  even  if,  unfortunately,  his  amused  observatory  had  received  some  aftereffects  from  his  little  games.    ❝  I’m  glad  you  came  to  enjoy  your  husband’s  company~  I  was  ready  to  throw  you  a  party  to  light  up  the  Underground  a  bit,  however  I  doubt  I  have  right  mood  for  it  …  well,  I  didn’t  no  desire  to  have  to  justify  myself  to  Hypnos  and  Thanatos  again.  Recently,  express  requests  haven’t  stopped,  it’s  so  endless  that  I  prefer  to  distort  that  pressure.  He’s  the  kid  out  there,  he  needs  my  attention  twenty-four  hours  a  day  in  his  time.    ❞

[thecameronchronicles]

Grand Delusions

TW: DARKRudy!, Smut. Language. Cheating. Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness. 

SUMMARY: Overdrinking leads lines to blur as you stumble into Rudy’s, whose intentions are anything but pure…

Word Count: 1200

*Requested*

Grand Delusions

You knew that you should have stopped after that third cocktail as the buzz was already leaving you at a questionable state of your equilibrium. But in being surrounded by your friends, you trusted that they wouldn't take advantage of your lowered inhibitions beyond what would become a simple joke that next day and nothing more. At least you thought so…

But as you walked, or rather fell, into the room you'd shared with Drew as his monogamous girlfriend, you were setting the stage for someone's impute intentions. Unbeknownst to you as Tequila and a multitude of liqueurs affected your senses, you slipped out of your dress and stumbled to the edge of the bed, where his frame was covered beneath the sheets. 

As Madelyn was an affectionate drunk and Madison was more of one brought quick to anger, you were a horny drunk. That pulsation between your legs shameless in the hunt for its quell. For that, you slipped off your panties and threw them as steadily as you could towards Drew's head before slipping into the sheets beside him. 

"You smell so good…" You moaned behind him, a new shampoo or cologne having been the reason for your comment as you wrapped your arm around his chest. His muscles were always a welcoming sensation to you, especially since he hadn't hadn't home much due to his recent projects and their necessary publicity stunts such as premieres and interviews. But right now, you were able to have him all to yourself. 

You fell in and out of consciousness for a bit the mix of alcohol and the unnatural fatigue of pushing your body beyond its limit. But rather quickly, you familiarized yourself with his fingers assisting you out of your bra, before his lips were on your breast. With the darkness of the room and the silence of your bedfellow, you hadn't noticed it wasn't Drew until you ran your fingers through his hair as he descended between your thighs. 

"Rudy…" You spoke his name in confusion first, before ultimately repeating it in fear once realizing the depth of this moment. But as you tried to move, he was quick to collect your thighs, pulling them apart and pinning them down in the same degree, before he carried his tongue between those folds. 

"Rud….yyyyy…"

"Better be quiet there, sweetheart, don't want good natured Drew to know how you're letting me lick his girl's pretty little pussy…"

"Stop…" You fought as he only smirked and continued his motions, kitty licks drawn over your clit. 

"My god, you're fucking delicious…" His eyes fixated on you as he kept your legs parted with his grip and you moved against him, even if an attempt to flee, had only brought more pleasure. 

"Why are you-"

"Because I can…Because you're gonna let me…" 

"Please Rudy, Drew…"

"Isn't home like he should be. And you deserve to be taken care of every day, every hour on the hour if you want…so let me show you that I can…" Before you could object, he was now inside of you. 

"Rudy!" You berated, a warning wavering to the grip made to the back of your neck, pulling your hair in the process. 

"I always knew you'd sound so pretty when you said my name like this…But fuck, I didn't think you'd be THIS fucking tight…" He winced into a smirk before quickening his motions. The door suddenly coming open at his back, Drew's slurred speech apologizing as his own drunken haze kept him from recognizing your silhouette disloyal to him. 

"See? I'd never let you out of my sight for this to happen…I would have you in my arms…I would never give you a reason to undress yourself. I would do it for you-"

He took your lips against his own, that hand now at your jaw to deepen your kiss as you would only moan against him. 

"Just let me take care of you…" His finger came to your clit. "God…I'm gonna make you come so hard for me, you might just squirt…" 

"Please Rudy…"

"Keep begging baby…It's making me throb so fucking hard for you…You feel that?" He asked upon slowing his pace and pressing his hand into your lower abdomen as he flexed inside of you. 

"Rudy…"

"That's right baby. Rudy's cock making you feel this good…making you so wet that I can move so quickly…" His hand took your jaw once again, this time, turning you towards the door, as he spoke with his hot breath giant your cheek. 

"But I'm gonna take my fucking time…Make sure you learn my cock…know my name-"

"Please-"

"Don't worry baby, you'll come…I'll make you come so fucking hard you'll forget of anyone else before me…including him…"

"Stop…please…I don't want to hurt him-"

"I will." Your eyes widened to him. "If he comes in here…if he tried to stop me from coming inside you.. of making you mine…" As your hands tried to stop him, he pinned them beside your head, keeping you still. 

"You're mine, sweetheart. Even more so when I'll come inside of you….don't try to deny it, I can feel how much you need it…so let me give it to you…" 

"Rudy…" You whined as he quickened. 

"I'll make it easy for you, sweetheart. Just say yes…say yes and I swear to God, I'll make you feel so fucking good-"

"Rudy-"

His grip tightened on your wrists. 

"You say ANYTHING else, you'll only come in front of him after I make you scream so loud, they'll come find me this deep inside of you-" 

"Please-"

"Yes or no, baby? Just say-"

"Yes." You whimpered as he scoffed. 

"Yeah."

"Yes! Please!" You were suddenly turned to face the bed, hips raised to meet him. 

"Good girl…now let me make you come for me…" His fingers flicked viciously on your clit as you felt him pull you against his chest as he brought you closer to the headboard. 

"You know how crazy you make me.. watching you with him, knowing you need me and MY cock?"

"Rudy-"

"Don't worry baby-" His hand now clutched onto your breast as his second hand pulled your cheek to face him. 

"It's gonna be okay…I've got you…just come for me, baby…go on and rub it for me…put a little work into it for me…"

You ran your fingers over that familiar and now inflamed clit, pulsating for release 

"Good fucking girl clenching me like that…good girl-" His fingers wrapped around your dominant hand over the metal headboard. 

"Rudy, I'm-"

"I can feel it baby…just let it happen, cream on me baby.. please give it to me…make me proud…"

"Ahhh…"

"Sing for me, sweetheart…"

"Ahh mmm…oh God…"

"Rudy!" He set his fingers in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him for the relief of being able to moan against him. 

"It's okay, baby…use my fingers just like you used my cock…"

"Rudy…" You groaned with him still inside of you, your hugh at its very edge as he slowed to prolong this. 

"Feel good baby?"

"Yes…" 

"Then make me fucking come-" 

He bent you forward, ravaging your aching pussy as he brought you both to that edge, sobering you enough to understand your circumstances as he spilled out of you as evidence of what you'd allowed. 

"Don't worry baby, this will stay between us…Next time will, too…" He smacked your ass before leaving you alone, his scent and release now leaving you with guilt but also the greatest satisfactory numbness that not even your boyfriend could grant…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife

[laurfilijames]

Warmth and Solace

Pairing: Fìli x reader

Words: 894

Warnings: nudity, inclement weather, Fìli being undeniably sweet and warm. No smut! (I know!)

Summary: a storm rages outside, waking you up in the middle of the night only to relish in the fact that no amount of cold can stand against the warmth that is Fìli and his love for you.

A/N: this is a simple one shot to try to kick my muse into gear again. I’ve always loved sleeping while knowing there’s a bad storm happening outside, and who better to display this feeling with than our golden boy Fìli! And if you haven’t been able to tell already, I’m weak for sleep intimacy.

———

The wind was unrelenting. Snowflakes blew past your window in bursts, being tossed around by treacherous gusts, the dance they made mesmerizing you in your sleepy trance.

It was no doubt the sound that woke you, the blasts of frigid air howling and whistling through cracks in the outer wall of your bedchamber you hadn’t realized existed.

It had been predicted that the storm would be a powerful one, and here it was proving itself in the middle of the night. You could barely make out any of the scenery you normally admired even in the dark of night, the snow so thick and whipping around so forcefully it seemed as though everything beyond the mountain had been erased.

The thought gave you mixed feelings; scared at the power of nature but also in awe at being able to admire such a thing, thankful to be tucked away in your own little corner of the fierce world. You snuggled in deeper to your plush mattress, the warm furs that dressed it feeling welcome on your skin as you continued to watch the ever-persistent blizzard.

It brought an eerie sense over you; a vulnerability that the storm could break down the stone of the mountain and rip you from your warm bed, but at the same time you also felt a calm sensation ease that small fright, knowing you were safe and protected.

Deep breaths sounded from the sleeping form beside you, Fili’s heavy body reassuring as he continued his dreams completely unbothered by the wreckage that threatened just outside.

Your focus was now turned to him, the slow, steadiness in the rise and fall of his back that faced you contrasting against the erratic fury of the storm.

Although it was near freezing and the fire in the hearth was reduced down to glowing coals, Fili was all the shelter you needed from the biting cold.

You shifted so you were flush up against his back, the icy tip of your nose thawing on his flaming skin, and you couldn’t help but give a small smile at the wonderment that was his ability to produce fiery heat no matter the temperature.

His shoulders and arms stood out from the blankets, exposed as much as the peaks and slopes of the mountain that surrounded you, making you marvel again at his resilience.

Did he not feel the cold at all?

Your hand carded over his waist, his body warming your chilled fingers as you moved toward his fuzzy belly, his large hand automatically covering yours with a gentle squeeze.

“Did the storm wake you, amralime?” he asked in a hoarse and sluggish voice, smoothing his rough hands up and down your arm, instantly spreading heat through the parts he touched.

“Mhm,” you hummed in reply, the roar of the breeze almost drowning you out completely.

A strong gust blasted suddenly, shaking the fragile panes of the window, the storm reminding you once again of its power but also of the asylum of Erebor, the strong layer of solid rock a barrier from its peril.

You could see the silver of the beads at the end of Fili’s mustache glimmer in the cold, blue light as he shifted onto his back, a sleepy groan sighing out of his lungs. The frosty aura that overpowered the dying orange glow of your chambers matched the same icy hue you knew lay hidden beneath his eyelids, but only one brought you comfort.

His arms folded around you as he turned onto his other side to face you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace, his body forming a shield between you and the bitter conditions waiting to bite at your skin.

Fili pressed you against his chest, your arms locked between your hearts, your face nestled into the soft hairs that adorned his toasty skin. You inhaled his hot, sleepy scent; the smell so starkly different from the crisp, dampness of the cold that creeped into your room.

A muffled giggle escaped you and resonated through his thick upper body when he slung his heavy leg over yours, pulling your lower half into him so you were now completely encased by his naked form.

“You’re safe and warm, my love,” he said with sleepy assurance, kissing the top of your head once, then placing one on your forehead and then your nose before nuzzling his face into the small space between your neck and pillow. “Go back to sleep, it will pass soon enough.” His words tickled against the sensitive skin on your neck, and your heart made a flip at secretly wishing the storm would never end.

A tired smile pulled weakly at your lips as you looked out at the blizzard once more, this time thankful for the chaos it created, knowing you’d have many more hours trapped away in your bed with your One covering you with a possessive hold that no amount of bad weather could breach.

The snow continued to sway and swing to the song of the wind and it wasn’t long before soft snores purred out of Fili as he fell back into the solace of sleep, creating the perfect melody for you to drift away to. His limbs and muscles twitched and fluttered involuntarily, coaxing you back into your own dreams as the world lay quiet around you other than the storm.

———

Taglist

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @shalinizhara @fizzyxcustard

Fili: @shethereadinghobbit

[mypoisonedvine]

While You Were Sleeping... | dark!Stucky x reader

warnings: noncon, somnophilia, dp, slight breeding kink, kidnapping, bondage, drugging, pain kink, choking, spanking, slapping, degradation, mention of blood

word count: 3.3k

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

The sound was the first thing you became aware of.  Your eyes were heavy, so heavy you couldn’t open them, as hard as you fought.  All your effort led to one brief sliver of light, but it was gone so fast you couldn’t process what it was.

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

You heard yourself moan softly as you tried to stir, but your whole body was half-numb and as dense as lead.

Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.

It was faster, and louder, until it suddenly stopped.  Something shifted after that… something outside you, and something inside you.

“Your turn.”

Hearing words tore one more layer of your sleep away, and you managed to open your eyes for just a moment longer, long enough finally to see your surroundings for a second.

You were face-down on a bed; no sheets, just a mattress.  It shifted again, and you realized another weight was settling onto it.  

Something warm ran down your spine.  Fingers?  Was someone touching you?  And not through clothes, but straight onto your skin.

...am I naked?

You fought through the static tingling your tired limbs, and wiggled your arm a bit.  A jingling noise, a tightness on your wrist; a shackle and chain.

“Are you wakin’ up now, doll?”

Bucky? you tried to speak, but your lips wouldn’t move.  You were nearly paralyzed, but conscious enough to move your arm again, shaking the chain louder this time.

“Good,” you heard him reply.  “I’ll be honest, the drugs were a compromise for me.  I want you to be awake for this.”

Your legs were pushed wider apart.  Something hot was pushing against your— no, that can’t be right.  This can’t be happening.  This isn’t happening.

A shift inside you.  He was inside you.  You tried to kick him away but all that came of it was a twitch in your calf.

“That all the fight you got, sweetheart?” Bucky chuckled.  You could feel his hands on your hips, pulling you into him each time he thrusted forward.  You were thankful for the numbness, because you knew this would be painful without it; you could feel how far his intrusion was stretching you, how deep he was inside you.  So deep that you could feel it in your stomach.

Thunk.            Thunk.            Thunk.

The headboard slammed into the concrete wall with every thrust, the sound marking each time he buried himself as deep as he could go.  He was so impressed that you could take all of him, even though it would probably be challenging for a version of you that was fully lucid.  There had been a little blood after Steve was finished with you, so he knew you were being pushed beyond your limits.  But he also knew you could take it.

Well, he knew you had no choice but to take it.  So maybe not so much that you could, but that you would.

“So tight, doll, especially when you try to fight it,” he praised, groaning when your walls pulsed around him again.  “You came when you were knocked out— twice.  Wanna see how many times I can make you come when you’re awake?”

You fought the instinct to writhe in protest, knowing now that it only egged him on.  

“There’s a good girl,” he groaned, “just lay there and take it, honey.  I’m just sorry you can’t feel all of me like you know you want to.  The last of the tranquilizer should wear off soon…”

No, no, that’s the only thing making this tolerable, you realized.  “No…” you managed to mumble aloud, though it was broken and nearly inaudible.

A harsh slap landed on your ass and your body jerked with the pain.

“What’s that, doll?  Can’t hear you,” he mocked.  

“Bucky…” you murmured, still barely able to believe that he was doing this.  He’d acted weird around you a few times, Steve had told you it wasn’t a big deal—

Steve… Steve would help you.

“Steve?” you slurred.

“What is it, pet?” his voice echoed from behind you.

He’s already here?

The realization made your gut sink.  He was already here.  Your turn, you remembered someone saying; it was him.  He’d been here a long time, hadn’t he?

“Want me instead, huh?  Buck’s not doin’ it for ya?” Steve laughed.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky groaned.  “She’s gonna cream on my cock any second, I can tell.”

“Go ahead then,” Steve encouraged you, “come for him if you like it so much.”

“No…” you managed to sigh again, but it wasn’t to them this time; it was to yourself.  You needed to stop this, because Bucky was right and you weren’t ready to cope with that in this moment.  You needed to hate this, it needed to hurt.  And both of those things were true… but you were going to come in spite of it.  Or, perhaps, because of it.  

You started to sob as your mind warred with your body, as pleasure and fear and dread and disgust were all overshadowed by a deep primal need.

Bucky leaned down, his body crushing yours as his teeth nipped at your neck.  “You’re drooling all over the mattress, sweetheart; our brainless little fuckdoll, so stuffed with cock you can’t think.”

A tingle ran up your spine so strongly that your back arched involuntarily, pushing his cock even deeper into you.  Bucky grinned and you would’ve grimaced if you could move your face that much.  “Oh, you like that, don’t you?  We knew you needed to let go, but you would never do it on your own.  That’s what the drugs were for, to loosen you up a bit.  But you’re awake now, and you’re finally realizing how good it is to be owned, aren’t you?  Nobody’s here but us, baby, we won’t tell anyone how much you love it.  It’ll be our little secret.”

Out of nowhere, you came.  It was dulled and distant as it fought against the effects of the drugs, but undeniable.  You felt hot all of a sudden, like you would burn up, as you shivered and tightened involuntarily.  You could really feel him now, every ridge and vein, every detail sliding along your insides and stretching you impossibly wide.  It felt like it wouldn’t stop so long as he didn’t stop fucking you; your skin erupted into goosebumps, even though you felt anything but cold.

“Just like that, doll… so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your bones.  “Squeezin’ me so goddamn tight, I could come right now—”

“No!” you yelped.

“Is that the only word you know?” he hissed.

“Not… not inside…” you murmured.  

“Not inside?  Doll, Stevie already filled this filthy little cunt,” Bucky informed you with a purr.  “You couldn’t even tell, huh?  Don’t worry, you’re gonna feel it this time.”

You whimpered but couldn’t put a sentence together, focusing most on not moaning every time he thrusted into you; his balls slapping into your clit was just enough sensation to keep you on the edge, but his thick head massaging your g-spot was too intense to ignore.

When you opened your eyes, you could see Bucky’s long hair falling in front of your face, and his hand reaching out to interlace his fingers with yours.  How could he do something so intimate, like he couldn’t feel the restraint around your wrist as he did it?

“I’m close, sweetheart, you’re gonna make me come,” he grinned, and it was weirdly prideful.  Like he knew that some part of you craved for his approval.  Of course you did; he was your superior, your Sergeant, your boss.  You just didn’t intend for this to be the way you got it.  

Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.

You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, hoping you could give no reaction at all.  It didn’t work, because just as he’d promised, you could feel his cock flexing and pulsing, you could feel his seed pumping into you.  A groan of protest slipped from your lips, louder than you’d expected.  It seemed to go on forever, or maybe it was just because you knew the potential this had… he’d said Steve had come inside you, too.  You just hoped they’d let you go in time to get a Plan B.  Surely they were going to let you go soon, now that he was done and they’d both had their turn.

The idea of them taking turns with your body made you feel sick.  So did the rush of hot liquid that oozed out of you as Bucky pulled his cock out.

“Can you go again, Buck?” Steve asked gruffly.

“Sure,” Bucky answered, seemingly just as curious as you were as to why he would ask that.

“Get under her,” he demanded.

“Wh… what…?” you moaned sleepily, trying to understand what was happening.  You were being lifted and manhandled, limp in his arms, as Bucky slipped under your body and wrapped his arms around you.  Your head laid against his chest as you pulled at your restraints again, more determined than before but just as fruitless.

Another weight moved in behind you; Steve, of course.  You could tell by the little laugh he made as his rough hands moved up the backs of your legs.

“Your pussy looks completely ruined,” Steve informed you, “like it was meant to be.”

He reached down and gathered some of the come that had leaked out of you— yours, Bucky’s and his own all mixed together— on two of his fingers and pushed it back into you.  You winced and struggled, even just his fingers big enough to stretch you.  Then again, anything was big enough to reignite the pain in your sore channel by this point.

“But this hole is still untouched,” he added, his fingers slipping out of you and trailing up to— oh.

“N-no,” you moaned quietly, “not there…”

“Not where, honey?” Steve taunted, his wet fingers drawing circles over your puckered opening.

“Not… not in my ass,” you pleaded weakly.  You could hear Bucky’s heartbeat get faster next to your ear.  “You can use my pussy again just… not there, please.”

“Oh, so generous,” Steve grinned, but his amusement turned to anger as he slapped the inside of your thigh.  You squealed with the pain, jerking inside Bucky’s embrace, and Steve hit you a few more times.  “Bargaining with your body as if it’s yours in the first place.  Stupid whore.  Both these holes are mine, you understand?”

You cried out when he hit you again, the telltale burning of oncoming tears starting to sting the backs of your eyes.  But you refused to cry.

“Do you understand?” he repeated, firmer.

“Yes, Captain!” you blurted out, an old habit from when you were at work.  You felt your face burn with shame as both of them laughed at your obedience.

“Such a good soldier,” Steve praised.  “I know you can take it, baby, if you just relax and let it feel good.  I’ll make it good for you.  Buck’s gonna keep that greedy little cunt full, too; won’t you, Sarge?”

“Yes, Cap,” Bucky grinned, rubbing his cock through your swollen folds again.  You hadn’t anticipated that their stamina would apply to this. They’re going to keep me here for a while, aren’t they?

As Bucky teased your clit with his fat and leaking head, Steve pushed his fingers into your hole.  You tried to relax through the burn, gasping and groaning in spite of yourself.

“Ever been touched here before?” Steve asked, curling his fingers inside you until you let out a little moan.  “Doesn’t seem like it.  You were always hard at work, never had time for a boyfriend did you?  Not one that knew how to treat you right, at least.”

“Is this your idea… of treating me right?” you hissed through heavy breaths.  “Knocking me out?  Chaining me up?”

“That was just the only way to get you to let us take care of you,” Bucky explained.  “This is treating you right.”

Before you could ask what he was referring to, both of them pressed their cocks into your holes.  Bucky’s cock slid in with a hint of pain, but Steve’s hit more resistance— not that that stopped him.

You screamed, knocked out of the last of your drug-induced haze and thrown head-first into reality.  Sick, stinging, sharp reality.  Your arms pulled at the chains as your legs kicked wildly.  Steve grabbed your ankles as they swung by, pushing your legs up and holding them down until you were forced to straddle Bucky.  The new angle made you feel somehow more exposed to both of them.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve groaned darkly.  They both pushed in deeper, their cocks getting thicker the further down you got, and your eyes rolled back into your head.  

“That’s it, just let go, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered.  “You can take it, you were made for us, you can take it…”

You were too overwhelmed to process his words, though, as they kept filling you and you wondered if it would ever stop.  You wondered if you wanted it to stop, even though it was painful and degrading and beyond twisted.

“Almost done, honey, you’re takin’ us so well,” Steve cooed.

“She might pass out, Steve,” Bucky realized as he examined your face, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Maybe then she’ll stop fighting,” he shrugged in reply.

Bucky was buried all the way into you, but there was still some of Steve left to take and you were sure it wouldn’t fit.  You already felt so full that you could barely breathe.  Just to rub it in, Steve slammed that last inch into you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, “you feel so good, babygirl.  The others call you a tightass behind your back, did you know that?  They don’t know how right they are…”

“Talk to me, soldier; are you still with us?” Bucky asked, slapping your cheek lightly to get your attention.  You nodded quickly.  “Feel how full you are, doll?”  You nodded again.  “You like it, don’t you?”

You stayed silent this time.  

“No need to pretend, honey, we can tell,” Steve groaned.  “You’re dripping all over the both of us, and your cute little ass is clenching around me.”

“Just say it,” Bucky moaned.  “Say you love it.”

“I… I love it,” you stammered, hoping that it was just to appease them.

“Then ride our cocks, like the little slut you are,” Steve demanded, smacking your ass one more time.  You tried to lift your hips, shuddering with the way it moved both of them inside you, but it was so difficult with your weak and aching muscles.  When you did it again, you fell suddenly with a wavering groan.

“Too weak, baby?  You’re so pathetic; let me show you how,” Steve offered, grabbing your hips tightly and lifting them with almost no effort.  You moaned, properly, as he used your body and dropped you up and down on his and Bucky’s cocks roughly.  “The least you could do is sit up; go on, put your hands on Buck’s shoulders and arch that back, show me how bad you want it.”

The chains were long enough that you could do it, though looking down at Bucky and the metal cuffs on your wrist was a lot to take in.  With a groan of pain, your wobbling arms lifted you up.

“I knew you could be a good girl,” Steve sighed, moving your body faster against his as his grip left bruises in the shape of his fingertips on your skin.

Bucky reached up and wrapped his cold metal hand around your neck, choking you suddenly.  Both men groaned as the loss of air made you flutter around them.  “Fuck, you like that, huh?  You like getting choked, doll?  Dirty slut.”

When he finally let go, it was like all the sounds that had been caught in your throat came out at once.  A groan, a sigh, a moan, and a sob churned together to make something inhuman and debasing.  They were fucking you like animals, you were shackled and bound like an animal, and now you sounded like an animal.

“Do you wanna breathe, doll?  Or do you wanna come?” Bucky growled.  

“I wanna… I wanna come,” you moaned.  The hand on your neck tightened again, and the tingles of lost sensation spread over your body quickly.  You were so close to coming again that you could barely imagine how it happened so fast.  They were reaching every sensitive spot inside you— rather, they were turning every spot inside you into a sensitive one.  The loss of air only pushed you closer, and you wanted to scream but all you could do was dig your fingernails into Bucky’s shoulders as it hit you hard.  You went completely limp in their arms, only Bucky’s hand holding you upright.  He relaxed his grip, still tight enough to keep you completely aware of his power over you, but loose enough that you could breathe.

“Don’t stop coming, sweetheart, I love seeing you do it,” Steve beamed.  “You can give us a few more before we’re done— right, Buck?”

“I don’t know man, she feels really good,” Bucky moaned, choking you again so you wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

“Get it together, man,” Steve teased, “you can’t get all sentimental on me again.”

“I can’t help it, okay?  Been waiting for this for so long…”  Bucky trailed off, or maybe it was just that your hearing was fading out as the loss of air pushed you towards the beckoning darkness.

You gasped when he let go again, your moans turning into sobs and tears finally rolling down your cheeks.  You’d sworn you wouldn’t let them see you cry, but you couldn’t even remember that now.

“Such a cute little crybaby,” Steve purred, slamming into you faster.  “Can’t take it anymore, huh?  It’s too much for you?”

“Please…” you whispered, so hoarse that you couldn’t recognize it as yourself.

“‘Please’ what, doll?” Bucky pressed, massaging your neck in his palm.

You didn’t know what you were begging for, truly.  Bucky choked you again, grinning up at you and fucking you rougher than before.

“I know what you want: you wanna come again, yeah?  So needy… this’ll be, what, the fifth today?  Go ahead, princess, show us how bad you need us.”

They all started to blend together after that.  Just one big haze, interlaced with so much sensation that you couldn’t parse any of it into separate incidents.  Steve leaned forward to suck a mark on the back of your neck; Bucky used his free hand to twist your nipples and slap your tits, before moving down to roughly rub your aching clit with his thumb.  Bucky came first but stayed inside while Steve roughly pumped into your ass.  Without the distraction of Bucky’s movement inside you, you became more aware of how far Steve’s cock was stretching you.  He came with a cry and Bucky’s fingers pulled another orgasm from you, too.  He never stopped rubbing you there, not even when they’d both stopped moving and you were too exhausted to do anything but take it.  It made your body jolt even though your muscles ached and begged for rest.  You vaguely remembered begging for rest, too, but you didn’t get it until Bucky was satisfied.

When they both pulled out, you could feel the hot sticky mess gush from your holes; it was disgusting, and yet you felt a weak pang of arousal run up your spine.  Bucky slipped out from under you with an exhausted groan of his own, leaving you to flop down onto the bed lifelessly.  

“Get some rest, honey,” Steve encouraged.  “We’ll help you shower when you wake up.”

Any other day and you would’ve needed to shower first before you could fall asleep again, not to mention having your wrists freed from the chains.  But you were already nearly gone by this point, your eyes heavy again as your mind went blank.

The last thing you heard was a heavy steel door slamming shut: thunk.

[katwritessometimes]

In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint. 

5kish words

 @bobawithpomegranate ​ & @miscellaneous-bnha ​ thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house. 

You don't notice it at first,

 He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch. 

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that. 

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs. 

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous. 

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now. 

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air. 

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer. 

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had. 

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving. 

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called. 

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

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The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch. 

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house”  the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed. 

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath. 

 You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out. 

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch. 

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep. 

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly. 

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept. 

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core. 

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”  

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses. 

“My good girl.” 

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

You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail. 

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm. 

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state. 

 An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

 A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear. 

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them 

To my lovely granddaughter, 

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age. 

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel. 

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall. 

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink. 

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost. 

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly. 

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face. 

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.” 

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers. 

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly. 

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms. 

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure. 

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you. 

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed. 

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight. 

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls. 

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

 With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already. 

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body. 

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair. 

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate. 

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out 

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth. 

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress. 

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over. 

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long. 

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate. 

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself. 

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper. 

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back. 

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words. 

As if you had a choice. 

​

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,577 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: STUFF. IS. HAPPENING! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The Hilltop and Alexandria are well into preparations for the war against the Saviors, and someone goes missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

A couple weeks later

It had been an eventful couple of weeks. Alexandria and Hilltop were well into preparations for the first hammer blows to fall against the Saviors, but the Kingdom, the latest community Jesus had introduced you to, had just decided to join in the fight after shit went sideways. You and Daryl had stayed there for a few days to help before heading back to Hilltop. The biggest relief was finding Carol safe and sound, although changed from how both you and Daryl remembered her. You knew it was weighing on the archer, but there was simply too much to do to spend more time there and try to figure out exactly what was going on...

The intel from Dwight so far had been untested but consistent. He was keeping you all apprised of the Saviors movements and what Negan seemed to be focused on. There had been some concern after the discovery of the bodies that you and Daryl had been responsible for out by the survivalist cache, but the Saviors seemed to think it was a chance one-off skirmish with some other group and no more heat had come your way. Of course, Negan continued to pressure and terrorize Rick and Alexandria, but they had been able to keep him placated so far with supplies. But that wasn’t going to last forever, and it was almost time to kick the hornets’ nest.

The fine weather, moderate temperatures and ample sunshine, were in harsh contrast to the anxiety and worry plaguing you as you all prepared for a war that you were sure would result in heavy losses. That particular day, Daryl found you down by the armory, helping to sort and finish weapons that had just come from the blacksmith. His tall frame darkened the doorway, and although Daryl was well aware of how worried you were, you still always had a smile for him. He stopped and leaned on the table across from you, drinking in the sight. “Hey.”

“Hey. What’s up?” you asked, setting aside some broadhead arrows.

“Ya still wanna do that pick-up from the ammo cache today?” he asked.

You nodded. “I think we have to.”

He straightened up and nodded. “Yeah. I think so too. I’ll get the gear and my bike. Ya about done here?” he asked.

“Done. Let me just drop these few off to be sharpened. I’ll meet you down by the gate.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and headed to your trailer to collect the gear you would need. He was just about done, zipping up his pack, when he heard hurried footsteps coming up to the door, followed by urgent knocking.

Daryl spun and rushed to open it. Jesus was standing on the top step looking deeply concerned. “I think we might have a problem,” he said.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, when was the last time anybody saw the little weasel?” you asked, pacing the length of the trailer anxiously. Maggie, Sasha, and Enid were gathered too.

“That’s what I mean. I’m not even sure,” Jesus said. “He’s just been holing up in his office drinking lately. By the time I realized he wasn’t around anywhere I couldn’t even tell how long he’d been gone.”

Daryl let out a low growl. “We shoulda locked his ass up. Guarantee he’s runnin’ off to find some Saviors,” he roared.

Jesus looked dumbfounded. “I never thought he’d actually try something like this. He’ll be lucky if they don’t kill him.”

You rubbed your hands over your face and shut your eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t go back and stop him, if that’s really what he’s up to. The only thing we can do now is prepare for what’s going to happen.” You met Daryl’s eyes. “Our timeline just accelerated. We need to get word to the Kingdom and Alexandria ASAP.”

Daryl nodded gravely, a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. “Did he know ‘bout that radio of theirs we’ve got?”

“No. He definitely didn’t,” Jesus said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” Maggie said. “I’ll handle gettin’ the volunteers here all armed and come up with a final defense plan. I’m sure they’re gonna be knockin’ sooner rather than later.”

Sasha shook her head, anger plain on her face. “I’ll set extra watches on the wall. Thank God we didn’t cut him in on our plans.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, straightening up. “Never trusted the bastard. If I see him, he’s a dead man. We’ve got one thing goin’ for us at least. They’re gonna think we ain’t armed or prepared at all. They’re gonna think they’ll be surprising us, but they’re wrong.”

Jesus sighed heavily. “I’ll contact Rick and The Kingdom and then stay glued to that radio. If I hear anything, anything at all, I’ll make the rounds.”

You all had your plans and you watched as everyone cleared out of the trailer. Daryl turned to see you frozen and your face dark with worry.

He moved around the table and stopped in front of you, his hands reflexively landing gently on your hips. “Hey. This ain’t it. It ain’t over,” he said.

You nodded and met his blue eyes. “I know. That’s what scares me. It’s just starting. All the—all the death and destruction is coming. It’s like being on a set of train tracks with a locomotive bearing down and nowhere to go.” Your eyes turned downward, but not fast enough to hide the glassiness in them.

“Hey.” Daryl gently clasped your face and your wide eyes met his again. “Everything is gonna be alright.”

“You don’t know that…”

Daryl nodded and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. “Ya. I do. ‘Cuz we’ve been makin’ these plans, and they’re all good. Smart. It’s like ya said. Timeline gets bumped up, but they ain’t winnin’. And I will do everything I have to, to keep ya safe. You and every one of our people.”

There was still some seed of doubt in your eyes, but your fear seemed to have diminished some and you nodded before looping your arms around his neck and hugging him against you tightly. Daryl sank into you, breathing in the semi-sweet scent of your hair and smoothing his hands over your back. “I’ve got you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. Even despite the bad news, Daryl couldn’t help but smile.

“Mhm. And I got ya.” He was still bewildered by your constancy and how each of you seemed to carry the other when you most needed it. It was a give and take he had hardly known in his life. There were no strings attached, no deals or bargaining. You were just there.

The rest of the evening was chaotic as you rushed around preparing for what could come at any moment, but it was almost midnight and still there was no word over the radio that the Saviors were moving.

“If he went on foot, he won’t be anywhere near the closest Savior outpost until tomorrow. And that’s assuming he somehow manages to survive,” Jesus said.

You glanced toward the gate and the inky blackness beyond. “Closest ones we know about…” you said quietly.

Daryl shifted a little anxiously, your worry being his. “Jesus is right though. We best try and get some sleep while we can. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

You sighed, but Daryl saw you soften. “Yeah.” You placed a friendly hand on Jesus’ shoulder. “Wake us up if you hear a single peep over that radio.”

He gave you a tight smile and nodded. “You got it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Daryl drawled, falling into stride behind you back to the trailer. He shut the door behind himself and simply watched you drifting about the space for a moment, getting ready for bed. You felt his eyes on you and paused, turning to read his expression.

“What are you thinking?” you asked the archer.

He shrugged and drifted toward you. “Nothin’. Tryin’ not to.”

You nodded and turned to face him, unable to stand the space between you any longer. You pushed the curtain of dark hair framing his face out of eyes and gently rested your hand lightly along his jaw. “You’re so strong, Daryl. Whatever else happens, I at least know you’re gonna come through this just fine. Hell, you’ll probably be the one to put Negan in the ground.”

“Hey.” He grabbed your hand in both of his, and marveled at how small and fragile it felt, despite how strong he knew you were too. “ What’d I tell ya? We are gonna be just fine.” He pressed your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. You smiled at the forcefulness of his assertion followed by the tenderness of his action afterwards. “C’mon. Let’s at least try and catch a little sleep.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bed and you were eager to comply, falling down heavily with your head on the pillow. Daryl moved behind you until he could press his body against you. This time he was the one who moved until he could tangle his legs with yours. He draped an arm over your waist and his fingers tickled against the bare skin of your side, exposed by the way your t-shirt was draping. His hand suddenly sought more of that contact, pressing lightly, skin to skin.

You smiled at the sensation and your heart raced a little with him seeking that intimacy.

“S’this alright?” he asked softly, his breath tickling your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, smoothing your hand over the back of his and pulling him more tightly against you. You shut your eyes and breathed out your tension. You felt Daryl relaxing against you too, and despite all the fear and anxiety of the day, you both were soon fast asleep, feeling safe and like you were safely at home.

_ _ _ _ _ _

By the time the sun was up, you and Daryl were both awake and busy. And it wasn’t long before Jesus came striding up with a grave expression on his face, the radio in his hand. You felt your stomach twist. “What is it? Are they coming?”

He only nodded. “They’re moving out this afternoon.”

“To where?” Daryl asked gruffly. “Just here?”

“I think so,” Jesus said. “I haven’t heard any mention of Alexandria. But if Gregory did make it and did spill everything he knows, they’ll be heading there eventually.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you for a brief moment before you steeled yourself again. You brought forward the image of your brother in your mind. You thought of the workers trapped in the Sanctuary with no way out, of Negan’s ‘wives’, of everything he had done to Daryl and to you and countless others… And your fear and anxiety didn’t dissipate, but it took a backseat to determination and anger. You gulped. “Fine. Good. Let them come. We’re ready.”

Daryl felt a swell of admiration for you and he nodded. “We are. That’s what all these plans have been for.” He glanced back at you, knowing you weren’t going to like the next thing he was going to say. “I gotta go check the drop-off location. Dwight might have more info,” he drawled.

A shadow darkened your expression. “What? Now? Daryl, they’re headed our way!”

“I gotta check. It was the plan. He’d get us word if shit was kicking off.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t like it. You’re gonna go out there? What if—what if you can’t get back in time. What if—”

Jesus seemed to sense that the two of you needed a moment. “I’ll go start spreading the word, get everyone to their assignments.” He rushed off, leaving you behind staring at Daryl with renewed worry.

“Daryl, you can’t—”

He gulped, admittedly not liking the idea of separating from you while you were all seemingly standing on the threshold of potentially the hardest fight of your lives. But he had to go. He had to check. What if there was information waiting that would save lives? What if the Saviors somehow had found out you had that radio and this was going to be misdirection? “I gotta go. This was the plan.”

“Fine, then I’m coming with you!”

“Nah. Ya can’t. Everybody needs ya here. There’s too much to do to get ready.” He paused to read your expression. You looked pissed. “Ya know I’m right.”

You were wrestling with another upwelling of fear. But this was Daryl. He was a warrior. And he needed to do this. It wasn’t fair for you to try and selfishly keep him behind the walls with you when there could be critical information waiting out there. You sighed and shut your eyes for a moment and nodded. “Okay… alright.” You pointed at him vehemently. “But you come back in one piece, Daryl Dixon! I mean it!”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at you. Your tone reminded him of so many times you had scolded him for ignoring an injury or being stubborn. He nudged his nose up at you. “I will. I’ll come back to ya. Promise.”

Your anxiety wasn’t relieved but you nodded. “Okay… Come here,” you said, your tone softened.

That was all Daryl needed. He paced over to you, chewing his bottom lip a little thoughtfully, and just waited for your touch. Your hands rested lightly on his sides and you looked up and met his blue eyes.

“I mean it. Come back.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I will.” His arms looped around your lower back and pulled you against him. He watched, still amazed every time, as you shut your eyes and arched up onto your toes so your lips met his. Your kiss was gentle and soft at first, but he deepened it, tangling his fingers in your hair and relished the way your lips moved effortlessly with his, the taste of you and feel of you all he needed. When you finally broke apart, your eyes stayed linked with is for a long moment.

“Be careful,” was all you could whisper. Daryl nodded and slipped from you, heading for his bike by the gate. You crossed your arms over your chest like a shield, still feeling the ghost of his hands and lips on you, and watched his broad shoulders until they disappeared.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You purposely kept yourself so busy you hardly had a moment to think while Daryl was outside the walls. You were stocking ammo at strategic locations around Hilltop when Maggie came bounding up to you with a relieved smile.

“He’s back,” she said.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding since he left. You nodded and murmured a thank you, before glancing at the pile of supplies you were sorting. She laughed. “I got it. Go on,” she said kindly, taking your place.

You reached him as he was climbing off his bike and Daryl gave you a smile that made your heart jump. “How’d it go?” you asked, nervous to hear what info he had, if any.

“No problems. Couple walkers,” he said with a shrug.

“And nobody saw you? And you didn’t see anyone?” He shook his head.

“Not that I know of. I was careful,” he drawled. “Got somethin’ though.” His tone changed. There was tension in his voice and it made the gravel more pronounced.

You felt your throat constrict with nerves. “Okay. What is it?”

Daryl pulled out a small piece of paper, left in the agreed upon location by Dwight. “He’ll be here.”

“Negan,” you said. It wasn’t a question

Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he hummed. He looked about how you felt. Determined, disgusted, and angry.

You nodded. “Okay. So, he’ll be here. So, what? Doesn’t change anything,” you said. Daryl was watching you carefully, worried with the realization that this would be the first time you’d have to see him since busting out of the Sanctuary. It would be like if his own father suddenly showed up at the gates. It would be understandable if you were a bit apprehensive or shaken up at the idea. But instead, to his continued amazement, you just looked pissed. Maybe you were trying to hide how much it was affecting you, but Daryl couldn’t see anything other than determined anger. He licked his lips a little nervously and nodded. “They ain’t comin’ to fight. This time. They’re comin’ to give us a chance to give up. Probably think that once we realize Gregory has snitched that we’ll fold.”

You scoffed. “Not gonna happen.”

Daryl glanced down at the paper in his hands one more time. “They’re goin’ to Alexandria tomorrow. Same thing. After that, they’ll get ready to fight us if we don’t give up.”

You nodded. “I guess it’s really starting then.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” He reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “But we’re ready.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“I don’t understand why we’re here to chat instead of hitting them before they know what’s coming,” Simon said vehemently, matching Negan’s long strides as they approached the heavy wooden gate to Hilltop.

Negan turned a piercing glare to his lieutenant. “People. Are. A resource,” he growled. “Dead people don’t work for me, do they, Simon? They don’t gather supplies. They don’t work in the Sanctuary. They don’t do a damn thing except rot in the sun or feed the dead, do they? There is a goddamn good reason why I am in charge instead of you. And this is the last time I’m going to remind you of that. In fact you should be grateful you aren’t out on the fence after all of this was happening right under your oversized nose.” The look on his face was dangerous, vicious, his lip almost curling.

Simon hung his thumbs in his belt and averted his gaze down toward his boots. “Right. Sorry.” But he was biting back anger.

“Don’t question me again,” Negan growled, pointing at Simon with his trusty sidekick, the barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat he called Lucille. Negan of course knew that all of you inside knew he was already there, but he raised a cheerful sounding hello at the gate. “Hello! The Saviors are here!”

Two guards appeared over the top of the fence, glaring down at the convoy of trucks and assembled men. “Ah, there we go. Would you mind opening the gates and letting us in?” Negan asked, keeping his manufactured charm thick.

“We won’t be letting you in. Not today. And not ever again.” This was a new voice, and Sasha appeared over the top of the fence now too, her trusty rifle clutched in hand.

Negan laughed and grinned up at her. “Oh, I remember you,” he said. “Well, is there someone else here I could have a civilized conversation with? There are some very important matters that need discussing.”

“Everyone in here will tell you the same thing,” Sasha spat back at him. “And that’s ‘Go to Hell.””

There was a quick flash of rage in Negan’s eyes, like a lightning bolt, but it was gone immediately and replaced with another charming smile. He laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, now! I know just who you have in there that I would just love to talk to! WHERE’S MY DARYL AT?!” he roared. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”

Sasha only glared down at Negan in disgust.

“Huh. Not very friendly, are they, Simon?”

“Not friendly at all, Negan,” Simon answered.

“I don’t know what you think you’re hiding back there,” Negan said, gesturing toward the gate with Lucille. “Because I have all the inside information I could possibly want courtesy of one of yours.” Negan snapped his fingers. “Dwight! Bring my best friend Gregory out here!”

Gregory was pushed forward through the crowd and Dwight grabbed his elbow and led him forward.

“You see, Gregory here has already told me that The Hilltop and Alexandria are working together. And I know that there are some more of you Alexandrians hiding out here while Rick the Prick is back there plotting my downfall with enthusiasm. But the thing is you can’t win. We are better prepared, and better supplied, and there are simply more of US. So, I thought we’d come on down here and give you one. last. chance. to do the right thing and fall back in line.” He paused and looked thoughtful, keeping up his charming, amiable act up until this very last part. “Because if you don’t, we will rain death and hellfire down on you. And believe me when I say that I do not want to do that. But I will.”

You and Daryl were backed up against the outer wall on the guard stand, right beside Sasha, keeping out of sight. But Daryl saw just a split second before you did it that you were barely keeping your anger in check.

“Y/N—Don’t—” he whispered harshly.

But you couldn’t just hide anymore. You stood up and peered over the wall, immediately meeting Negan’s eyes.

You were surprised to see that he looked surprised. “We’re not taking any more of your bullshit, Negan. You’re done. This is your last chance to walk away.”

But instead of responding to what you were saying, Negan was simply peering at you for a long moment before he resumed his usual persona. “You have got to be kidding me! Y/N? My wife is with you people?” He clicked his tongue and clenched his jaw. “Ain’t that just a kick in the crotch? And here I was thinking that you just took advantage of the chaos of my Daryl breaking out to escape again… You always were the type to get restless. But it seems maybe I need reevaluate that chain of events!”

Negan seized the back of Gregory’s neck hard and yanked him forward. “You know, it’s funny, because I specifically remember asking for the names of everyone hiding out in Hilltop and Y/N, your name, never came up,” he growled.

Gregory was shaking from head to toe. “I—I’m sorry! I got her name wrong! I didn’t remember—”

Negan looked like he was ready to strangle Gregory when your laughter broke through his pleading. Negan’s eyes shot back to your face. “That should give you some idea of the quality of information you’re working with from him. You might want to rethink things,” you said, leaning on the top of the fence casually, like you were discussing the weather.

You knew that if there was one thing Negan hated more than anyone defying him, it was being made to look weak.

He ran his thumb thoughtfully over his bottom lip as he stared up at you.

“You cocky little bitch,” Simon suddenly drew his pistol and pointed it straight at you.

You didn’t even flinch, but Sasha and the two other guards all had their guns to their shoulders and aimed right back at Simon.

Negan was furious as he turned toward his lieutenant. Simon felt Negan’s eyes like they were burning a hole in his skull and he waivered. Negan spoke to him through a growl. “Put your goddamn gun down. Now. I told you, she comes back to me alive.” Simon lowered his gun.

You felt your stomach twist. You weren’t sure whether Negan had meant for it to be heard or not, but the effect on you was an instantaneous, overwhelming sick feeling. You managed to keep your expression blank, but you knew that if Negan did ever get you back alive, you would be in for a fate worse than death.

Daryl’s hands landed lightly on your hips from behind and he gently pulled you slightly back, stepping forward, protectively putting his body in front of yours, glaring Negan down.

Negan noticed and it was like he suddenly flipped a switch back to his old persona. He grinned and chuckled. “Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…” He took in how close the two of you were standing, how Daryl was guarding you, and he realized… “So, what’s this? You two? You’re together? Really? Daryl, you and Y/N? I mean, I don’t know, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense to me.” He chuckled again as he watched Daryl’s chest heave with angry breaths.

“Wow. Alright. I don’t get it but, hey, some women like dumpster diving.” You watched Daryl’s entire body tense and you laced your fingers with his, resting your other hand on his arm, wishing more than anything that you could just shoot Negan in the fucking head right at that moment.

Negan knew what effect he was having on Daryl. He saw it. And he went on, grinning. “Did she tell you about all the things we did together? Dirty, dirty things…” He bit his bottom lip and cultivated a starry-eyed and vague smile on his face, remembrance. “And she is either a fantastic actress, or she was having just as much fun as I was, because I really didn’t have to do any convincing. I mean, she is good… I still dream about it and wake up rock hard…” he trailed off, grinning widely as he saw your face burning with anger and humiliation. You couldn’t help but be extremely aware of the fact that the entire Hilltop community was standing right behind the gate, listening to every word exchanged. You felt like you’d just been outed. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, his fist clenching.

“Oh my God,” Negan laughed, his eyebrows lifting. “Don’t tell me you two haven’t fucked yet?” He chewed his bottom lip, nodding, knowing exactly how much this was torturing both of you. “Oh, Daryl. You don’t know what you’re missing! This is some biblical level shit. I’m talking Whore of Babylon! I mean, really, you have no idea what—” But Negan had to duck as Daryl pulled his gun and fired a shot that whizzed just past his head and struck the truck behind him. Instantly, about fifty guns were aimed your way. The archer’s chest was heaving with anger as he glared through the drifting cloud of gun smoke. And this time when Negan straightened back up, the cocky smile and manufactured charm was gone. His eyes were dark and cold with rage. “Now, that—that was a mistake, Daryl.”

“Nah. You made the mistake,” Daryl growled. “And ya will pay for it.”

[heliads]

Over the Edge

Based on this request: “One shot of reader getting shot and hides from everybody including Wanda. She ignores it and continues to fight sword agents. At the end reader faint due to the injuries she has and Wanda take him and goes to the cabin where she cries.”

masterlist

You feel as if you’re standing on a precipice. One push, one shove, and you’ll be falling down, beyond the reach of anyone save a dark-winged angel.

You’ve always known that there will come a moment in time when your life will end. An injury, a sickness. A battle, maybe. You could sense that something would stop you from living life until the last- old age may be a guarantee to some, but to you, it was a privilege that you would never attain. No, you would die a moment too soon, a time before all others.

You had a certain affinity for seeing into the future. Your gift was frustratingly vague, always coming when you least wanted or expected it and never showing the final result. Your death was one of the first things you had ever seen. It was fitting, in a way: your birth of power was used to show how you would die. You would be alone, maybe. Whatever it was, it would be before you got the chance to grow old.

Ever since you’d gotten that first vision, witnessed the horrible sensation of something utterly wrong happening to snuff out your last breath, it was as if you’d been haunted by the promise of what would happen. You always checked behind you for someone watching your back, for an attacker or accident that could fulfill your vision. For a while, you were safe in the knowledge that your death wouldn’t be coming for a while as you had visions involving a future you, but you have no idea when those would run out, spelling the end for you.

The Avengers had come for you after the rumors spread. They always seemed to show up for cases like yours, cropping up like flies before the bodies can rot on a battlefield. This time, you’d predicted something too well: an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D. in the form of a HYDRA mole. You had seen the entire organization crumble as friend turned on friend, and no one had believed you.

Your family and friends had laughed. HYDRA? Shield? Girl, you’re stuck in fairy tales and ghost stories. Then it happened, the Triskelion falling flame to fiery explosions. Suddenly, your freak hallucinations weren’t quite so funny after all.

Representatives of the Avengers had shown up after that. No one knows about S.H.I.E.L.D. until after they come, that’s the way it always is. Yet you had known, and you would have to explain it all. You were sure that they would kill you for knowing, and that’s how your abrupt death would begin. However, you weren’t to be granted that reprieve of life just yet- when they offered a gun, it wasn’t a barrel pointed at you but a handle offered to you. A job, not a death sentence.

You took it. Of course you did. There is no way to politely turn down an organization with that much power, with that many members willing and able to dole out death like a greeting card. You had agreed, taking the job, and flowing along with the tide wherever it took you. No matter where you went, though, no matter how many prophecies you made, you always kept returning to the precipice. Somewhere, somehow, you would die. Did anything before that really matter?

The knowledge haunts you. It is hard to avoid. You might have saved yourself from certain death by taking up the Avengers’ offer, but by starting down that line of work, you might have damned yourself even more. Death threats and violent confrontations were a cup of coffee in the mornings with the Avengers, and by involving yourself with them, you increased the amount of times you could die. Sometimes, you wished you had never spoken those words allowed, never made the prophecy so they wouldn’t have found you.

Then you met Wanda Maximoff, and that was when you realized it might have all been worthwhile after all. She was like you- fleeing death, doing her best to do it on her own times. She practically sang with the tune of the dying, of her city and parents and brother. People tended to avoid you, afraid that you would see their end and they’d have to live with it just like you. Wanda, on the other hand, was not afraid. She’d seen enough death to know that you were no harbinger, just a Cassandra born to speak aloud. Why fear the speaker if you’ve seen enough of the stories?

The two of you stayed together. She woke up screaming on nights when the air was cold and the sights reminded her of all the damage she’d lived through. You didn’t want to speak for days at a time, when you’d had another vision and were horrified by what would come to be. No matter what happened to either of you, you’d always be by each other’s side.

It was good for a time. Maybe too good. Maybe you should have known then, that nothing in this world ever stays good for too long. You’d seen enough stories fracture to never place any trust in hope. Yet when you had that vision, seen the Infinity Stones brought together under Thanos’ watch, it had still torn you utterly apart.

You had told the Avengers, been the first call to muster the forces and prepare for war. It didn’t do much in the end. They still fought, bled, and died. Thanos snapped his fingers, and you were one of the first ones to go. Wanda had reached out to you just before you went. She was just a hair too far away. Her outstretched hand was too slow to reach you before you turned to ash and dust. In your last moments, you weren’t afraid at all. You had known it all along, hadn’t you? One last step off the precipice. You had seen it coming for years.

You had expected that to be it, that Thanos’ snap and your resulting death fulfilled your very first prophecy. However, your eyes still opened on the battlefield. From what they told you, it had been five years. You had spent a very long time in the dark, forced to behold hundreds and thousands of prophecies. Your mind felt like it could scream and tear itself apart from all that you had witnessed, yet you kept fighting as they asked. A wind up soldier, dealing out destruction wherever they pointed your weapons.

You knew that the fight wouldn’t end, even after Tony Stark sacrificed his life to save you all. The precipice would still loom. You had found Wanda in the fight, and she had finally wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close. Later, she would tell you that not being able to reach you in time had been one of her greatest regrets. It was one of the first times you had truly been separated in many years. She had never felt more alone as she died, even though it would bring you closer to the same home in the dark.

You had found her after the battle, after the funeral. You had told her in a trembling voice of all that you had seen, the countless prophecies and visions you had witnessed. If the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about them, they would send you down to record everything until your mind ran dark with blood and you went mad. Some of the visions weren’t yours to tell, you knew that, but spies have rarely cared for the price of secrets. By now they would already know that you had seen too much, and already be on the move. You had seen people following you for the past couple of days. It had already begun.

You didn’t know what you thought Wanda would say. You weren’t the mind reader, and you had only seen bare glimpses of what she would do in the future: a rushing wall of red, loud sobs, a house in the mountains. Twin boys. You had no idea what any of it would mean, just that she would continue to live. That alone was enough for you.

Wanda had stayed silent for a minute. You were used to her silence, welcomed it as much as a hearty conversation. At last, she rose, taking your hand to guide you back to the road. We will have a home, she had said, and they shall not hurt us here. When you arrived at Westview, New Jersey, you at last understood. You had seen this very sign when you were dead, and you had seen the scarlet barrier before even as Wanda casts it now. The very scope of her powers is astonishing, but everything was proceeding as it had been foretold. There is nothing you can do to stop the tide of time from flowing, nothing to stop the precipice from drawing ever closer.

When you look around you again, you’re still in Westview. Technically, your feet haven’t moved an inch. But the town itself is different- walls are brighter, people are happier. If you look closely, you can tell that something is wrong. This isn’t the way people are supposed to move, like they’re being jerked around on strings. This isn’t the way time progresses, or the way everyone seems to look at you like they’re screaming for help. This is wrong, horribly so, but it’s so tempting to be safe for once that you can glance away and pretend not to see.

It’s just so good here. So nice. Wanda smiles at you, and you smile back. They cannot hurt you here, cannot reach you. There are no labs or interrogations or people begging for details on your visions. For once, you’re not living in the future, but the present. You haven’t made a prophecy since you came, and your head is blessedly yours. Wanda understands what it is like to be a prisoner of your own powers, and she’s given you a chance to live.

You can tell which people are being manipulated by Wanda’s magic, which people are given scripts and lines to rehearse. You are not among their numbers; Wanda wants you to be you, and that means that you two can have your perfect future. It’s not a prison, it’s a refuge, and that means that you won’t need protection from her.

For the first time, you have the chance to grow old. You have always loved Wanda, and it is so easy here. There are no wars, no guards, no soldiers. You pick wildflowers in the park and present them to her with a flourish, she makes the entire town look like your favorite sitcom so you can practically be living in your favorite reality. You are both fighters who have bled for too long, but for once, you are whole. It’s an opportunity you wouldn’t give up for the world.

When the sky begins to fall, you pretend you don’t see it. You’re silently begging with the future, pleading it not to come. It has never listened to you before, but you can’t help but hope it will stay its hand this once. You see Agnes become Agatha, see the twisting wires of purple magic infiltrate the red. You see S.W.O.R.D. arriving outside the town, and you turn away. Please, you ask, just this once. Let me live this once.

Your pleas are ignored. They send people through the barrier, then armored trucks and weapons. Suddenly, your picture perfect home is shot through with rot, your happy future crumbling away to ash. You try to find Wanda, but she is gone, locked away with Agatha. Everything comes true. The cycle will always turn. You cannot find your love, and you cannot live as you hope.

When it breaks down fully, you know what must happen. So does Wanda. She finds you before she takes down the barrier, holding you in her arms. You can feel her on your hands, breath hot against your cheek. You’ll never stop being on the run from the precipice, from the watchers who want your visions. At least you had this with her. It was worth it, all of it.

The fight begins as they always do. Guns rattle, people cry out in terror. You have seen this scene before in countless different ways and places. However, you’ve taken part in enough battles to know how to continue. Knock out a soldier, take his gun. Keep fighting. Wanda is by your side, lovers staying together once more.

You hear the gunshot from across the town square. Distantly, a voice in the back of your head cries out in relief. This is it, what you’ve seen all along. The bullet hits you a moment later, a piercing pain that seems to shake your very bones. Your hand presses to your stomach, and when you pull it back only a second afterwards, scarlet is already starting to dye your shirt red. You look up, searching for Wanda. She doesn’t know yet. No one does.

Clarity is falling upon you. This is it, at last. The precipice. You stand up, forcing yourself to keep moving. You have always been born to die. At least let your last moments be worth something. S.W.O.R.D. agents fall, but it’s not enough. Will it ever be enough? You don’t have a choice. Wanda is turning to you now, eyes widening as she at last sees the red smear on your side.

When your head hits the pavement, you realize that it’s finally over. The gun falls from your head, clatters to the pavement. Wanda lunges for you, but she arrives too late again. Why is it that she is always one step too far? You don’t have any more visions of yourself, just of her. You’ve always been looking at her. When you die, you have a smile on your face.

Death is not peaceful. It never is for you. Your eyes are forced open by invisible hands, and you watch once more as the future is laid bare for you. I’m dead, you want to shout, stop making me see any more. But the prophecies keep coming. You are the one who sees them, and so you must see the world through. That is how it works.

Wanda, however, is not willing to give you up so easily. You’re not sure what price she paid to put breath back into your lungs and keep your heart beating, but when you wake, you’re in a cabin in the woods. You’ve seen it before, you realize, when you died the first time. This means you’re still alive, and you’ve eluded the precipice once more.

Wanda is leaning over you, relief written in every line of her face. When she sees you look at her again, she starts to sob in earnest. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I can’t take your death.” It is a shame, then, when you know how it ends. For now, though, you manage to crack a smile. “I don’t much enjoy it either.”

Death still weighs upon you, heavy as an anvil. There will come a day when even Wanda’s magic won’t be enough to save you, when love falls through the gaps and you will finally be laid to rest. The precipice still looms, as it always will. But for now, you sit up and take Wanda’s hand. At least when you face that fight, you will have your lover by your side. You can look far enough into the future for that. For now, you can keep on fighting, even when the precipice seems inevitable. You’ve accepted your death, but you would live for her.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

[missamyrisa2]

A simple request... how would you tickle and edge a helpless and crazy ticklish cock and balls to put a boy through hell🙈

I would do you up nice and dramatic. You'd be bound to a chair, legs gently spread. The room is dark until the heavy door creaks open. A beam of light shines on you, temporarily blinding your vision as you hear my footfalls. I'm dressed to work and tease~ one of my more known tickle outfits, the tiny shorts and flower belt with a black cropped top adorned in crimson roses. My long blonde hair is in a sporty high ponytail, bouncing and swishing as I approach. I love to wear a tickle outfit for a helpless ticklee, because I get to tease you with spots that you can't touch. What's going to be happening soon could surely stop if you could tickle my completely exposed navel~ but you won't be able ~ With a smirk, I wave a red feather at you. In my other hand I grasp a clear jar. Setting the container on a table nearby, my eyes blink and direct between your legs. I wait for you to glance down and see the pink cradle over your boyhood. Maybe you felt the silky sensation and didn't want to look down, didn't want to acknowledge how good those panties feel on your penis and balls. They hug your royal parts perfectly, and the gentle pastel pink is so adorably cute. Or maybe you feel like a cute girl is rubbing against you, and those are her panties. I snicker seeing the blushes bloom on your neck & cheeks. "Aww, does someone like their little underwear?"

I'm next to you now, cooing and chuckling darkly. "Ah yes, these pink panties. So delightful. Silly boy. There's no hope you must realize. No escape for you now. You're in my world. And I can show you delights beyond measure" My nails trace the outline of your balls through the panties, I delight at your longing quivering reaction as the soft material relentlessly caresses you. And then I suddenly seize them with a firm grasp. "So be still. And let Amy take you." I cackle at your squeak and pose, showing off my exposed tickle spots along my belly and hips and legs. "You love seeing tickle spots don't you? I'm not even naked or anything and I can tell this is exciting you. I have a fun experiment for deviants like you. And like me~" I laugh and pick up a remote. Suddenly I'm behind you, whispering in your ear as my long purple nail begins creeping down your inner arm. "See, I have this let's say porno collection. Except it's not really porn. It's totally innocuous to the naked eye. But to a lovely depraved tickle bug, this is going to ignite that fire, and you won't be able to do anything about it except let those little panties love on your silly ticklish boy parts"

I click my remote and a projector flares to life. The wall is illuminated with an image of a cute girl bearing her bellybutton and tiny cute feet on the beach. The slideshow starts. A lady holding her perfectly manicured nails over her perfectly pedicured feet. A collection of carefully curated images follows - celebrities, models, candid captures. Each one is a beautiful soul exposing a tickle spot, or some even being tickled in totally innocent circumstances. Flirty touches. Tickle outfits. My nail traces your belly and dips into your navel, in and out, as I whisper about each one. "Does that excite you? Look at this belly they're showing. It's so oily, perfect for tickles no?" The panties hold your growing erection tightly. The more aroused you get from the images and my taunts, the more the fabric strains yet holds, stimulating you further. Your balls are in a silken prison themselves, brushed with every writhe in your body on the chair.

At last when I have you aroused to my satisfaction with your penis poking out the top of the panties, I pick up that red feather and start tracing the underside. I follow the vein carefully, letting the soft tip kiss it. "Such an eager volunteer for tickles" I murmur, my other hand randomly grasping at your thighs to massage and pinch the muscles to keep you giggling. Occasionally I reach and start slowly and gently tickling with my fingers under your balls, humming a melody of jingle bells. But while my one hand wanders and plays, that feather refuses to let up on your swollen manhood. The ultra soft tool reaches the head and performs a twirling circle before taking the long trip back down. It takes detours to every sensitive spot it can find on your cock before trailing along the pantyline and heading back up. "I think your penis is very ticklish cutie. And I think you like me tickling it. You love this feather. You love your tickles. Don't fucking lie to me now, or it's the wand for you~ and when I get the wand out, I'll make you ticklegasm over and over until there's nothing left~"

I grin at your cowering under the threat of the multiple ticklegasm treatment, my other hand now constantly readjusting the panties to keep them grazing different parts of your royal parts. Once I have them set to my satisfaction, I pick up a shiny silver bullet and hold it by your ear. With a click the tiny toy buzzes furiously to life, and I exchange my red feather for one with a black and yellow pattern. "I call this the feather bee~" I snicker and plant a raspberry on your belly before taking the feather just under your cock's head. I hold it steady and start running the bullet's vibing surface along the fibers of the feather, sending the quill trembling on your hot spot. "Oh yes, must extract only the purest of giggle nectar from cute boys. And we need to fill this whole jar, yes we do." I cackle at your reactions and desperate thrusts, keeping the vibrating feather just barely touching enough to edge you along.

Once I have you thoroughly dizzied from the feather bee, I retrieve my fluffy blush brush. The handle is a sparkly purple. The hairs are black on the outside but I flip it up to show you the center threads are purple, forming a heart shape. "Isn't it just so adorable? I've been calling her Heather. No idea why, I just like that name for a tickle toy." I take the tool and start tracing your balls through the material. My fingers are tickling playfully at your tummy, grasping at your abdomen and spidering your sides. Heather twirls up and starts painting your exposed shaft. All those tiny fibers at your skin, urging your arousal further into the heights. You're so tickled already but this tender sensation, these tiny caresses are too sweet to resist. You could pass out were it not for my graspy tickle attacks following every time your head lulls. "Are you gonna? Yeah? No? Uh-oh! Uh-oh! What's gonna happen? Mmm? Tickle tickle? On your pickle?" I start jingling your balls again, Heather brushing madly on your head and down the underside. "I want all of it now. All of it. Alll of it. If you don't give me all of that royal cream we're gonna start all over. And I will get out my wand too." I hold the jar close to your head, Heather endlessly dancing on your hottest tickle spot. I don't care how long it takes, I will only grant you the softest giggliest ticklegasm, and I will be there to catch all of it. "Beg me to cum now. That's all I need to here. Okay? Okay. Yes, you can go cutie. Anytime. I'm gonna tickle you all the way through now baby. And afterwords~ we can review the footage and maybe I'll give you a nice snuggly tickly post-ticklegasm handjob for being such a sweet tickle toy~"