#I have scars that I gave to my ocs to deal with having them

[dazzlerazz]

Saw your tags, incredibly based I do the same of unintentionally intentionally making my OCs start off as bi ace unless smth suits em otherwise/better. Loved reading the tags tho :0 fun plot trope u got there

AIOHDSGFJ9-FUGIOHGI9-0FOIHJGI=es()OXFIG=soiXFH9isFG0[S OH GOSH HI

It's very easy to fall into "this oc is just like me fr" island because of self projection lol

I genuinely don't think I have any straight ocs, and that's a very weird thing to see compared to how I used to write my ocs when I was like 8-12, but it's not a bad thing! I enjoy it!

Thanks for the ask lol I love to talk about ocs

[xxnomadsxx]

Nomads AU! Branch’s second in command..look I haven’t finished a drawing for them yet ….BUT it’s coming

Originally I wasn’t gonna have them in the story. They were just used to be a reason for why Branch was in the feral troll village, but then I got the idea for a brother rivalry between them and Brozone and I was like “OH! I have to do that!!!!!” (I am so sorry I really wanted to make an Oc please don’t unfollow 😭)

Branch’s Second in command is basically a replacement brother? (no one sure what gender they are? So Branch just calls him his brother?with a question mark) Honestly, the relationship is like SUPER toxic, like I’m talking about his second command has accidentally tried to eat him on a couple of occasions and has gotten him hurt multiple times on accident. (They’re also a huge reason on why is kind of more paranoid and aggressive troll that he is today) also they occasionally just bite Branch, maybe on the arm, leg, or just nibbling on his hair (I promise they won’t eat Branch they just like biting stuff) the biting freaks Branch out a lot (poor guys trauma won’t ever leave 😔)

What they look like is basically a description I gave of the feral (trolls?) a while back claws, tail, sharp teeth, messy looking, slitted eyes, and pointy ears the second in command/brother? wears half a cloak that only really covers one of their sides while also having the most stitched together outfit known to anyone in the village, arms and legs basically covered in bandages and scars surprisingly their face is scar free, their hair is similar to Bruce’s with how it cascades down his back, The only difference is it’s way messier and pitch black sometimes say to Branch how it makes them look more like family (which is cute in my opinion) They have shark teeth and sort of just has this look on there face of “I will bite you if you get close to me and if you’re not close to me, I will still bite you.” Their hair has some branches and leaves in it, but still pretty clean. Sometimes they lay on the ground and just pretend to be a carpet (I mean with how much hair they have it just completely covers their body) people have walked over them on accident before.

The second in command/brother? Doesn’t really have a name. Everyone just calls them Thing and that just became its name. Thing is maybe just really bad for Branch’s mental state, but they genuinely do really care for him. I mean the whole reason Branch is here is because Thing got one look at them and said “new little brother” and sorta just kinda adopted him.

Thing is is like the most insane feral (troll ?)(whenever they do something their motives behind it is either baby brother or feed there is an in between ground of just both) Thing is the head of the militia, and surprisingly is the most trusted with the village, due to their survival instinct/ tactics, and overall mindset of protection they’re kind of dumb though (so branch doesn’t really leave him in charge a lot for long periods of time but still trusts them over anyone else)

Random facts Thing owns a mug that says best big brother? on it, and it is like his most prize possession(and only possession) They once tried to eat a troll egg. Their excuse was omelette.(the egg was fine don’t worry) they are basically the most feral feral troll, (which is honestly really hard to do so claps for him I guess) He has tried to eat Creek on multiple occasions, the only reason he stopped is because they now have some weird deal going on (Creek just feed him bits of his hair.) They constantly run on all fours like a gremlin usually having their claws out just to climb trees and over buildings around the village. The trolls and feral(trolls?) just sort of got used to them and they’re weird freaky antics (they’re surprisingly really well respected and a lot of people quite like them… they just get super scared of them) As a kid they basically saw Branch as a pet until after like a week they were like “OK this is my baby brother now.” Similar to how trolls put their babies in their hair they sometimes just put Branch in their hair (Which Branch has gotten used to he just doesn’t mind it as much anymore but still hates it.) Nonetheless, no one is quite sure how old they are or where they came from in the village they just sort of been running around for years and then one day just showed up with a troll.

Thing can speak! Most of the time they prefer to just make weird animal noises or hiss and growl. They really only speak to Branch and anyone who has a genuine concern or anything (I mean he still has to be a good second in command) and even when they do speak it’s always in this raspy sounds like it hasn’t been used in like weeks voice. Has the most broken English ever they also speak in 3rd person quite a bit. (They can’t read and just ask a bajillion questions to anyone about anything or just run their own “tests” on stuff to see how it works)

I’m going to give it to you straight, the only reason Thing exists is so I can have a brother rivalry between them and Brozone I mean Branch’s biological brothers who he loved very much as a kid vs the creature who cared and raised him for 20 years after they left (The scenarios would be amazing!!! 🤩)

Branch and Thing have a very good relationship, Branch really loves them since Thing hasn’t abandoned him like everyone else and raised him with love (never mind how toxic of a home it was and still is)

[orginllazyblog]

Where Are You?

Summary: Yuu stopped showing up in the HoM mainly because of the canon story still processing. This took place before and during Book 7.

Note: Gender-neutral Yuu (can use your Yuu oc for this)

It has been an exhausting day in school for Yuu. They just dealt with Idia's and Ortho's overblot a few weeks ago, and now Yuu has started to gain awareness. They notice how each overblot resembles the Great Seven's by the vivid dreams they are having, and now worrying for the next one. 

"*Sigh* I need to get ready for work. Just need to rest for a while before dinner." 

As minutes went by, Grim woke up Yuu to remind them that it's about to be dinner time, well, mainly to remind them of his tuna. Yuu couldn't blame Grim for this one, he did get kidnapped and probably never eaten his favorite food. 

"Sure, Grim. Let's go to Mr. Sam's shop. Maybe get more than three this time."

"Fnagh? You will?"

"Yes, I have been saving up from my job. Remember?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well then, let's go in a hurry as I have to go to work in about an hour."

*

*

*

In the House of Mouse, Yuu serves the food to the great sevens as they are the only waiter who wasn't afraid of them. Also the fact they can handle it. Yuu also knows about their evil deeds from their vivid dreams, but after dealing with the OB boys, they kind of got used to them and see the similarities between them. 

After their work hours, they are on their break so they went to the seven's table to chat with them.

"So Yuu, how's your day in Night Raven College?" (QoH)

"Busy as the upcoming exams are coming next month." 

"If you need help, you can ask one of your classmates. Why not ask Azul? I'm sure he'll help you without paying any debt." (Ursula)

"I'm pretty sure they'll ask Riddle as they are not what they call "shady" Ursula." (QoH)

"Aren't you forgetting that Leona is wiser than those two. He's even older than those brats." (Scar)

'Oh boy, here we go.' 

"Oh wait! I forgot to mention that I won't be able to come back to work."

"So when will you be back from your exams?" (EQ)

"I would say about a week or two. I'm not sure how long it'll take considering it's a different school system from my home world, but I know it won't take long."

During the conversation, Yuu didn't bring up another overblot incident, which happened to be the shroud brothers. They didn't want to make them worried, but Yuu still needs to tell them about their vivid dreams and know the truth about them. They just need to wait until the time is right. 

After hours pass, the clubhouse is about to close. Yuu farewell to the great sevens and the other disney characters as they left. Mickey congrat them and gave them their paycheck of 5,000 thuamarks. 

"Thank you, Mickey."

"No problem, Yuu."

"By the way Mickey, I won't be able to work in the next couple of weeks. I have an upcoming exam so I would need time to study and a small break as well."

"Oh okay, thank you for reminding me, Yuu. Remember to take it easy. I'll have to tell the other staff about it."

"No worries, I also told the great sevens about it. I'm sure the rest will understand my situation."

"Okie dokie! Good night, Yuu." 

Little does Yuu know this might be the last time they see the rest of the disney characters again.

________________

After a couple of weeks, Mickey and the staff were able to work knowing Yuu is busy with their education. There was some mischief going around, but it was only from Pete, and one of the great seven's shows up one time only. So far, everything seems normal. Nothing can go wrong… right?

It's been about a month, and the whole House of Mouse Club was panicking. Yuu should have been done with the exams. Where are they? Did something happen to them? 

Of course it wouldn't make sense, Yuu wouldn't just quit their job as they need money to buy their needs or send a message to Mickey or anyone to let them know. 

Even the great seven's were wondering what happened to them. Someone like Maleficent, who has access to travel to Twisted Wonderland world only to find out she can't.

 As if there is a barrier that she can't enter. That's when things are going downhill.

Mickey and his friends try to calm everyone down, but nothing seems to work. Until the lights went dim, the front stage, the screen went black. Then the loading screen started, which is not just any loading screen but the twisted wonderland loading screen. Everyone then quieted down as they sat down at their table as they watched how book 7 started.

*

* half an hour later…

*

With all there is, the screen went black again. With half of them, questions to what just happened and the sleeping beauty cast, now know what's going to happen next. 

Then again, 2 months later, the theater screen went black and the twst loading screen play. Now playing Book 7, chapter 2. 

"Hey Mal, do you know what's going on?" (Hades)

"How I'm I supposed to know? I can't enter Twisted Wonderland because the canon story is happening so I can't interfere." (Maleficent) 

"But do you know what will happen? This is where he will began to overblot." (Jafar) 

"Let's just watch it. There's no way my descendant won't-" (Maleficent)

*Malleus OB by end*

"..." (Maleficent) 

"You were saying~?" (Scar)

"Shut up." (Maleficent)

_______________________

Knowing there's like 5 chapters in Book 7, I have no clue for how long will I continue writing. So I just stop at where chpater 2

[thesugarclubs-blog]

What a Feeling - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: fantasy au, knight bucky barnes, princess oc, one-bed, grumpy/sunshine, smut, 18+

word count: 12.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1327974550-what-a-feeling-merari

Masterlist

“I would rather chew off my own fingernails than go back to that place,” Merari flicked her hair over her back, the gold bangles around her tiny wrist banging together in the hot summer air as Bucky moved around her giant white horse. 

He tugged roughly on the saddle buckles, making sure the leather straps weren’t going anywhere as he listened to her complaints with a disapproving expression on his cranky face. His large scarred hand ran down over the mare's neck, giving the Princess’ horse a few extra scratches behind the ears.

 “Your father only wants-” he started. 

“My father would sooner have me hog-tied and sold to the highest bidder than deal with me in the palace for a single summer.” She poked her head around the mare, her long red hair cascading down around her face. 

“The Convent is exactly where you should be,” Bucky grumbled. 

The heat was causing the dark green dress she wore to stick to the base of her spine and sweat to drip between her breasts. She wiggled her shoulder blades in a meek attempt to loosen the itchy fabric from her skin but nothing worked. She watched his dark blue eyes, enjoying the way he watched her back. His dark hair was clean for once and pulled into a half knot at the back of his head, highlighting the sharp curves of his scruffy jaw. 

“Well then perhaps you should join the nuns this summer if you believe them so special.” She rolled her eyes at him and she could have sworn his lip turned upward but when she studied his face she found only his mean scowl staring back at her. “Maybe they can teach you how to smile.” She shrugged and lifted her skirts to hoist herself atop the mare. 

“I know how to smile, your highness.” 

Merari glanced down at him from her perch on the horse, eyes narrowed as she studied him. He was concentrating, tongue peeking between the straight line of his lips as he double checked everything, ensuring their supplies for the trip into the capital were secure. 

“I’d never believe it,” she sighs, “and how many times must I tell you to call me by my name?” 

“I’ve lost count, but I can assure you that if I had a penny for every time, I’d be sitting on your father’s throne and not carting you across the land… your highness.”

She narrowed her eyes down at him again, a light smile tugging at her lips.

“Huh, that’s a view of a kind.”

He only responded with a raised brow, but she swore she could see a glint of amusement flash across his face before he turned to his black stallion. He hoisted himself up gracefully, in some may always more than the last time, and nodded for her to join beside him.

Merari let her eyes wander down to look at his butt that was gently swaying along with the stallion's movement. Then she gave her mare a tender kick with her heels and let her walk next to his. 

Their knees were only inches apart as the two rode next to each other on the narrow cobblestone path. 

"So, Bucky..." she started after five minutes. Only hearing the sound of the horse's hooves on the stone path was driving her nuts.

He turned his head towards her and she could see two strands falling out of his half knot, framing his face beautifully. 

"Why are you always the one accompanying me? My father has dozens of men, but every time I end up with you."

She watched him attentively, her lips twitching upwards as his jaw ticked almost in slow motion. The glow of the unrelenting morning sun slipping through the trees around them highlighted his features perfectly. Bucky turned to face forward and shook his head. 

"Oh come on Sir Barnes, you always do this," he whipped his head back to her quickly and Merari raised a brow. "Act all tough, silent and broody. We can't possibly spend this whole godforsaken ride without speaking." 

"I'm here to do a job, my lady. To protect you. If you must know why I'm always the one assigned to you, you should ask the King. You may ask for a new guard if you are not pleased with me." he gruffed.

"No need to get your braies in a twist, Bucky." 

Merari tried to suppress a laugh as she saw the stoic man's expression twist and his lips pursed as he let out a frustrated huff. She would never get over the satisfaction she got out of riling him up. It was just too good. A little part of her wondered how long it would take to watch him break.

“Just keep your eye on the path, Princess. You know how easy it is to lose track before we get to the main road.” 

Merari rolled her eyes but straightened up on her horse. She loved leisurely rides around the castle grounds but the trek into the capital was always tiring and monotonous — just the clip-clop of their horse's hooves and her own voice as she tried to make conversation. 

“Fine,” she huffed, catching him spare her a glance, his eyebrow raised. “Or should I say ‘yes, sir’? Isn’t that how the likes of Rogers and Wilson address you?” 

“They are under my command, my lady. You, are not.”

“Much to your chagrin, I’m sure.”  Merari huffed, spurring her horse ahead by half a length, putting Sir Barnes and his deep frown out of view.

As much as he was a treat to look at in his leather armour, unmarked by her father’s crest and always a lot cleaner than the man himself, he was an insufferable grump who always spoiled her fun.  Always so stoic, so in control, Sir Barnes was a stalwart knight of the realm; what more fun could be had on this trip than to tease him?

The pleasant dappling of sunlight through the leaves in the wood had begun to falter.  Through gaps in the canopy, she could see clouds passing over the face of the sun, causing momentary waves of gloom.  A chill passed with shadows and, had she not been so engrossed in thinking about Sir Barnes, she may have noticed the way her mare knickered and shivered at the withers.

Merari glanced over her shoulder, taking in the path. The trees seemed to bow and sway in the wind, touching and tangling together to create a darkened dead end behind them. 

“My Lady?” His voice came through the sound of raindrops littering the leaves above them. 

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as another shiver crept through her tense posture. 

“It’s just rain, calm yourself before you spook your horse.” His voice was stern and laced with growing frustration.

"I am calm," she snapped, her voice laced with worry as her view of him began to eclipse under the darkening sky. 

Her mare moved quickly to the side as the tree branches swayed into their path. Merari leaned down atop her and tried to soothe them both by digging her fingers into her mane and scratching lightly. 

"We're alright, Luar. It's an ok sweet girl," her voice was gentle as she tried not to let her fear show.

The rain poured heavily from the dark sky, drenching her gown in rainwater. But before she could worry about the state her garments would be in a thunderous rumble sounded through the air. Luar lifted her forelimbs, making Merari tumble off her saddle onto the now muddy ground. Somehow, Bucky got a hold of Luar's reigns before she could run off too far.

"Whoa, easy girl," the knight murmured softly, blue eyes flooded with concern as he looked at the Princess. "Are you alright?" 

Merari winced, sitting up as Luar whinnied above her, trotting impatiently in Bucky's well-trained grasp. The ground was soaked from the night before's rains and now mud and rainwater caked the skirt of her fine damask dress. 

A stinging sensation started in her hand and Merari spotted a small stream of crimson on her palm. There was the sensation of blood running down one of her knees as well, but she shook it off.

"Just a few stones embedded into my skin, no worries," Merari laughed shakily.

“We’ll find shelter in the first town, we can’t stop here. Not with this rain and Luar so distressed,” he stated — gruff and sure in his words as he held out a hand. 

“Bucky…” Merari spoke his name softly in protest, the way she had only ever done when the times didn’t call for formality. She’d be stronger about it if the gritty stones in her palm weren’t stinging something horrid. 

“Here, hop up. I’ll walk her the rest of the way.” 

He wouldn’t take no for an answer, stubborn as always, and he hauled her up onto his stallion. His warm hands steadied her as she settled in front of him, shifting until her back was pressed to his front.

“Comfortable?”

Merari’s hand was still throbbing but she nodded softly in response to give him the okay to keep going. Luar protested for a moment causing the horse they were on to stall but with a few coaxing words of praise Bucky got her moving. 

“You are good with her,” Merari groaned, flexing her fingers to distract how uncomfortable their current situation was. “She hates all the stable boys,” she laughed wearily. 

“She doesn’t know the stable boys. They rotate too often, she just needs a familiar face,” his voice low and calm against the side of her head, barely loud enough for her to hear him over the downpour. 

“Is that why my father sends you?” She dared to ask. “Strictly speaking of horses.” 

“Yes Merari,” he used her first name and sent shivers running over her skin. “That is why he sends me.”

The princess nodded silently, her cheeks warm despite the humid chill. 

“Strictly speaking of horses, that is,” Bucky repeated in what sounded like a pained whisper.

His calloused palms were still wrapped around the reins, yet she swore she could feel the warmth of his touch linger on her waist.

His touch was an unfamiliar thing, one that had the damp hair on the back of her neck rising to attention. Even now, with his arms loosely around her and his chest occasionally bumping the very top of her shoulders in what couldn’t be more than a graze, her skin felt as though it could barely contain her.

Merari supposed she could blame that on the hot blood rushing to her wounds.

The storm let up slowly as they rode in silence to the sound of their horses galloping until they reached the main road. The air was chillier around them despite the lack of trees that surrounded them on their way now and Merari could feel her wet clothes sticking to her skin. She tried not to squirm much as she tried to find comfort again until Bucky’s large warm hand on her waist stilled her movements. 

“We’re almost there,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

It was not the stiff wind breezing through her wet clothing attached to her body that made her shiver. It was the way it reacted to his touch, a warmth spread in her lower stomach and goosebumps pricked her skin.

She shouldn't be reacting to him like this. 

Through a break in the trees, Merari spotted the town sign — the carved wood stained dark by the rain. 

“We’ll find the inn,” Bucky murmured, “somewhere to warm up so I can take a look at your hand.” 

“I just need to clean it—“ 

“I have supplies, from the castle infirmary. Let me take a look at your hand, Merari.” 

His own hand fell from the reign of his stallion as he slowed the horses, guiding them up the smaller path into the town. The rough skin of his palm covered her knuckles and he turned her hand in his so he could see the graze before he brought it up to his lips and blew softly on the wound, Bucky’s tenderness surprising her.

Merari gasped at the sensation as the coolness of his breath soothed the stinging in her palm.  She turned her head to look at her knight and warmth blossomed in her chest at the expression on his face, the small crease between his brows evidence of his concentration as he inspected her hand.  

Strands of her long hair, darkened to auburn by the rain, clung to the scruff of his beard and Merari reached out with her other hand and brushed them away.  Bucky’s eyes met hers then and she saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“It, umm, it doesn’t look too bad,” he rasped. “Just keep it covered until we can wash it.”

From somewhere inside his leather surcoat he produced a surprisingly clean kerchief.  His eyes never strayed from hers as he wrapped the fabric around her hand and gently curled her fingers closed around it.

She could feel a smile spreading across her face and tried to hold it back. Her heart pounded and the sudden closeness between them was making her shiver. Or was that the cold air? All she could focus on was how gentle his touch was, his calloused hands cradling hers tenderly as he finished wrapping her hand.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked.

"What?"

She was so lost in her spinning thoughts that she barely heard his question.

"Your hand," he clarified. His eyes were shining as he spoke, his voice slightly shaken and soft. There was that warmth again in her belly. She tried to ignore it. "Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head, keeping her breathing steady. She expected him to make a joke at her expense, but it never came. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder. 

"We should get you warm. Your father will have my head if I let you freeze to death out here."

It was only a few more minutes before he led their horses to a small inn, stopping under the cover of the stable. What seemed like a quaint tavern connected to the side of the inn and despite its size, Merari could hear the noise of the patrons outside.

"Sounds lively in there."

"Don't get any ideas, Princess," He said, sliding off the back of the horse. He reached up, offering his assistance to help her down.

She thought she had a proper grip on his forearms as she slid out of the saddle, but at the last second, she pushed her weight on her hurt hand wrong. The stabbing pain made her flinch, and she slipped.

Bucky caught her before she could fall to the ground, his arm firmly around her waist, "I got you."

Her eyes flickered up to his, shining bright blue in the glow of the tavern lights, "thank you." Merari whispered as he helped her to her feet. Strong hands steadying her as she planted her feet into the mud. She glanced around them, hoping no one had seen her tumble, taking in her surroundings, cautious of the foreign city.  

"I'm serious," he rasped as the warmth of his hands disappeared from her, "We're here to get you warm and clean that hand before it gets infected. We aren't here to make friends with the locals." 

Merari's lips quirked upwards at his demands. He knew how she tended to speak to anyone and everyone, friendly or not. "Whatever you desire, Sir Barnes." She teased cupping her hand to her chest. 

Bucky's eyes narrowed at her and she watched as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip in the way it did when he was frustrated with her. She would never admit that sometimes she'd frustrate him with purpose only to see the movement. 

His hand wrapped around her bicep again, leading her to the door. "Let's go."

Bucky released her as they climbed the two steps to the inn. Using both his hands he pushed on the doors with a loud grunt. Swinging them open to expose everyone inside to the rain and wind. 

The Inn was bustling with an assortment of patrons. Bucky watched Merari carefully, clearly gauging her reaction to the people around her. She had never seen so much diversity and it made her heart flutter with excitement despite the discomfort in her palm. 

“Stay close,” he looked back at her, his eyes scanning the packed pub floor of the Inn. “We’re looking for the owner,” he said gruffly to a drunk-looking man hanging off one of the long wooden banisters just inside the massive doors.

“Yer lookin’ at ‘im” the man belched, laughing loudly as Bucky grimaced, waving him off as he searched the room. Merari looked away from Bucky, tapping him on his arm when she found a man behind the bar, watching everyone. 

“Pretty sure it’s him,” she said and took off across the room, hearing Bucky curse and stomp after her. 

Merari reached the bar and sat down before Bucky could stop her, planting herself firmly on the stool and grinning at him when he pulled up short next to her. He glowered and turned his dark expression to the man they thought was the owner.

"Excuse me-" he said gruffly, his voice low to avoid attention before a sudden, musical voice cut him off. 

"Good evening!" Merari chirped, a bright grin on her rain-soaked face. "Are you the owner of this lovely establishment?" 

Bucky looked up at the ceiling, his eyes rolling back. He swiped his gloved hand across his face in frustration. This failed to keep Merari from leaning forward across the bar at the giant fellow cleaning glasses before them. 

"Yes, actually, I am," he replied in a more playful voice than she expected as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Friends call me Korg. Which you can call me too. If you want to be friends. No big deal." 

"Of course! This is Bucky and I'm-"

"Look," Bucky interjected, stopping Merari before any else could fall from her pouty lips. "Could we just get something to eat, please?" 

Her brows kissed in confusion as Korg shuffled off towards a set of wooden cabinets above a small fireplace. Bucky whipped around to the princess, eyes blazing in annoyance. 

"Do you want to announce to everyone here who you are? Maybe stand up on the table and shout it out?" he growled, the low rumble of his voice making Merari's face heat up with anger and something else impossible to think about. 

"That actually sounds like a fantastic idea, Sir Barnes." 

Merari went to stand from the stool, her drenched cloak falling down from her shoulders. A broad hand shot out and gripped the fabric at one hip. 

"Princess," Bucky whispered menacingly, fully demonstrating the reason why he was the most feared and respected knight in their kingdom. "If you get up from this stool, you will not like what happens next."

“Spoilsport,” Merari huffed, pouting. She was behaving petulantly, she knew that. But she was finding great joy in seeing just how many of his buttons she could press before he would pretend to hide the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

“I mean it, Merari. One foot on the floor and—“

“And you’ll what, Sir Barnes?” 

Behind them, Korg cleared his throat. 

“Hello. Sorry. I thought you’d like to know what’s on offer today?” 

“Please,” Bucky sighed, exasperated. 

“It’s stew.”

Bucky nodded dismissively, “great, we’ll have—“

“Made it myself, there’s a special ingredient.” 

“Sounds delightful, Korg!” Merari beamed, “we’ll have two bowls please.”

Merari glanced back at Bucky, a sly grin spreading over her face as she slowly and very deliberately lifted her foot and touched the tip of her toe to the wooden floor.  Bucky’s jaw ticked and he drew in a breath.

“Princess…” he began, but a bellowing shriek echoed through the inn, cutting short his warning.

In less than a second Merari found herself pressed against the wooden bar as her knight moved in front of her with a dagger in his hand that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.  He scanned the room, searching for any threat to his Princess, determined to protect her at all costs.

A strange whistling noise sounded and the screaming stopped as abruptly as it started.

“Hey mister, sorry about that,” Korg shrugged and whistled again.  “It’s the goats.  They get a bit cranky at dinner time.”

He was too close. His body pressed against hers, the way his muscles seemed to twitch and tense even beneath thick leather and cloth. Merari felt like she was going to explode. She had to do something, and it didn’t help that rest of the patrons were staring at them. Merari gave Bucky a shove. 

“Get off of me!” She snapped. Bucky stumbled slightly and turned around, his eyes narrowed as Merari grabbed his dagger and threw it onto the ground. “And point that thing somewhere else! You said you wanted to be discreet. This isn’t being discreet!” 

“I'm doing my job, Princess. And if you want to talk about discreet, trying to jump on barstools and behaving like a...”

As he trailed off, his jaw ticked. She could see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as his chest heaved. She liked to rile him up. Merari’s breath remained quick, eyes darting around the Inn as people slowly went back to their drinks and conversations. 

“A what?” Merari challenged, taking a step toward him. 

“Nothing.” He spat the words out like poison. 

“No. Finish your sentence, Sir Barnes.” She glared at him, cocking her head to the side. “Tell me what you really think.”

She could see him straining, holding back anger as lightning flashed in his eyes. In her periphery, she could see two bowls of stew resting on the bar counter for them. 

“I think the only thing you’ve done since we got here is make my job difficult. Now do as you’re told for once and eat your dinner. Quietly.” 

Rage bubbled in her chest. He sounded like her father. Merari turned, snatched the bowl of stew off of the counter and began to shovel it into her face, making sure to be as messy as possible.

“Oh for the love of..." He trailed off with a huff and focused on his own food. For a few moments, his attention was directed somewhere other than at her. A moment of peace. She faintly wished they could have more of those too-close-for-comfort moments from earlier, instead of always getting on each other's nerves like this, but of course, it could never lead to anything.

She hated being a Princess sometimes.

Merari slurped her stew, glancing over her shoulder as a trio of musicians started playing music by the large fireplace.

With Bucky preoccupied with his food, an idea formed in her head and a mischievous smile crossed her face.

She deserved some fun if she was to be locked up in that awful nunnery for the next few months, right?

She waited until his head dipped into his spoon, bringing the stew between his lips completely oblivious to the mischievous plan forming in her mind. The music made her heart flutter with excitement, it had been so long since she was able to just move her body. She ached for a dance that didn't involve a thousand precise steps with a man that didn't smell of stale beef and dust. 

"I must relieve myself," she blurted, slipping from the table before he could wrap his grumpy hands around her wrist and hold her in place. She heard him call out to her but the crowd closed around her and she found herself one step closer to the freedom she chased. She leaned over the section of the bar that was free to her and called to Korg. "May I have a pint?" She asked and he nodded. 

"This should cover our stay and food," she pulled two of her solid gold bangles from her wrist and the man's eyes widened. 

"That's too much," he said sliding one back alongside a tall mug of ale. 

"The second one is for the trouble," she smiled, holding the large mug between her hands and gulping it down so fast it spilled from her lips into the front of her dress. 

"The trouble?" Korg questioned but she was already backing away with her pint, moving her hips to the sound of the sweet guitar and shrill, fast paced violin.

Merari lost herself in the beats, feeling the energy of the inn travel throughout her veins, adrenaline surging until she was laughing, spinning in circles to the music. 

She could feel eyes on her everywhere, only one pair standing out but she ignored them, smiling and winking at everyone who met her gaze.

Coppery strands of her hair whirled around her face, obscuring Merari's vision as she felt the unmistakable boost of letting herself go for just a moment. No one to stop her and no one to judge, no one who would tell her father or her parents. No one except the darkly brooding knight leaned against the bar, jaw clenched tightly as he took a long drink from his mug and turned away. With a giggle, Merari spun gleefully once more before someone stopped her. She looked up into the greasy face of another bar patron, a burly man whose smell reminded Merari of the river near her home. Her nose wrinkled up in disgust as he leaned in close, his fist clutching her skirt in the same place Bucky's had been previously. 

"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be dancin' alone," the man breathed into her face as she pressed her hands to his chest, trying to push him back. His weight nearly had her pinned against a nearby table, close to the wall. 

"That's funny because I was doing...just...fine," Merari grunted and shoved with each word, turning her head from the unwelcome intrusion. A little bit of panic bubbled up in her chest and she took a deep breath, not knowing if she was going to scream profanities or call out for someone to help. For Bucky to help. 

A dagger flew through the air, whizzing by Merari's soft waves and slicing the cheek of the man towering above her. He howled blood gushing from just under his eye before turning to face an enraged Bucky, a second dagger clutched in his grasp. 

"The first one was because my lady is present," Bucky growled, fury blackening his ocean tinted eyes. "The second one won't miss." 

Merari’s eyes widened, but not at the sight of him flinging the knife or the almost perfect execution. She smirked, leaning against a beam in the centre of the pub as if there wasn’t a man with a bleeding face or Bucky gearing up to strike again. 

“Your lady as in, you serve me or your lady as in—“ 

“Not the time, Merari.” Bucky grunts out, “get to safety.” 

Merari raised an eyebrow. 

“Please, for the love of all things holy,” he sighed, just as another drunken idiot dared to swing a fist.

Bucky caught the guy’s hand before he could make contact and wrenched his arm around. A sickening crack sounded and his attacker let out a strangled cry and cradled his now broken wrist. Bucky shoved him away and turned to Merari, thrusting the hilt of one of his small daggers into her hand before pointing angrily over to the corner of the bar where it met the wall.

“Get. Over. There,” he gritted, shoving his elbow back into the face of another assailant, flattening his nose in a spray of blood. “And if anyone comes near you…”

“I know, I know, stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Merari grinned.

As she ran for a set of doors near the back of the bar, Merari heard a deafening roar coming from one of the incredibly drunk patrons. When she glanced back, she caught Bucky blocking a hit from a large knife. He ducked and weaved out of the way as the drunken man tried swinging at him again. Merari pressed herself against the door, her own knife clutched in her hand as she watched Bucky handle the man with ease. 

He thrust his dagger into the shoulder of his assailant before he leaned back one leg and kicked him in the chest, knocking him backward. The man let out another scream as he collapsed to the ground and Bucky strutted toward him, bending down to remove the blade. As he wiped it off on his tunic, another man charged at him from across the bar. 

“BUCKY!” Merari screamed.

Without missing a beat, Bucky turned to his left and hurled the blade and Merari watched as it made a sick squelching sound when it hit the man’s eyeball. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, falling to the floor as a river of crimson poured down his face.

“I told you I don’t miss,” Bucky snarled. He held out both arms as he turned to face the patrons who were cowered in the corner. “Does anyone else have something they’d like to say to me?!”

There were splintered chairs, spilled drinks, and sticky ale all over the floor from the fight. Merari rolled her eyes as Bucky smirked when nobody answered him.

“Yeah!” The Barkeep shouted. “You’re paying for that!”

Merari slid the last of her gold bangles off, and slid it across the bar, "Uh, sorry. I didn't think there would be quite so much blood."

When no one else approached, Bucky turned his attention back to Merari, storming across the bar toward her.

"Can we get our room key?" She squeaked at Korg. As Bucky grabbed her, the barkeeper shoved the key into her hands.

Bucky heaved Merari over his shoulder, "You. Are in so much trouble," he hissed, marching them up the stairs.

He balanced her tightly against him, his strong grip digging into her thighs even through her thick, damp dress. 

"You can put me down now you giant oaf," she squirmed against him but it only made him hold her tighter. "You're only fun when your violent," she griped, propping her face up on her hand with her elbow against his back. She waved politely to a drunk patron at the top of the stairs, his face between the maid's breasts and his hand up her skirt. 

"Stop," Bucky shifted her weight. "Every time you open your mouth a man finds five new reasons to shut it for you." 

"You haven't yet," she quipped as he snaked his hand around his back, his blood-soaked hand was palm up. 

"The key," he growled, and she dropped it for him. "And trust me, I've thought about it. Do not run." He said before finally setting her down and spinning her in the direction of the door to their room which he had propped open with his heavy boot. 

"No," she said, whirling around to look at him, her long red hair whipping him across the chest. "There's only one bed."

Bucky stood in the door, looking down at her, his expression the same as a stone. She only ever saw him like that once, years ago when she invited some locals over to their castle’s library to teach them how to read. Bucky wasn’t amused in the slightest. Still, after days, he wasn’t talking to her, only if necessary. 

“I’ll take the floor, your highness.” his stoic expression was back. 

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor, Bucky.” She shook her head. “And I told you, it’s Merari.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step towards her and the princess stood her ground, tilting her head back slightly. Merari tried to emulate her mother, ruling coldly from a distance, but the knight before her was making her resolve melt quickly. 

"So," he asked with a slight smirk on his handsome face. "You are going to share a bed with me, princess?" 

The pull to take the next step and close the distance between them was strong, almost tangible in the smoky room. 

"You aren't the first knight that I've...lain with," Merari clipped back, stumbling slightly over her choice of words as Bucky's nose flared and his jaw twitched. Something like jealousy flickered in his eyes before he stepped around her, removing his belt. 

"What are you doing?!" Merari shrieked as Bucky unclasped his cloak and tossed it on a nearby chair. 

"We've been riding for hours, I'm not sleeping in this, my lady," he replied with snark, removing the leather and chain mail he wore over his woollen tunic.

Merari’s gaze tracked over him, with each layer lost a new form of definition revealed itself. From the sleeves of his tunic taut across his arms to the way it rose slightly at his hips as he lifted the chainmail up and over his head. 

She was so lost in her admiration of him that she completely missed him speaking to her until he appeared blurred before her, fingers wrapping around the wrist of her injured hand. 

“Merari,” he rumbled, dipping his head so she would meet his eye. “I still need to clean this, take a seat while I fetch a jug of water.” 

For once Merari did as she was told, lowering herself down until she perched on the edge of the bed.  The hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as, with a hum of approval, Bucky turned and made his way across to the other side of the room, rolling up the sleeves of his linen shirt until they reached his elbows.

Merari couldn’t help but watch as he busied himself at the dresser, pouring water from a large jug into the accompanying wash basin.  His shirt was of a fine enough weave that she could see the muscles of his back moving fluidly as he lifted the heavy jug and found herself becoming completely lost in the way the leather of his trousers hugged the curves of his ass and thighs.

He rooted around in the dresser drawer, grumbling under his breath. Normally, she would have teased him about it, but her mind was.. elsewhere. 

“Take the wrap off,” he told her, glancing over his shoulder. Probably to make sure she was actually sitting down. Merari just stared at him, her jaw slightly slack, eyes still wandering up and down his strong legs. “Merari, are you listening to me?” 

His tone was slightly sharp, pulling her back down to reality. 

“What? Oh, um… of course.” She shook her head and unwrapped her hand as Bucky stepped toward her with a damp white cloth clutched in his fist. 

He knelt down in front of her, his massive body making a thunk sound as he hit the floor. He grasped her wrist gently with one hand and began to clean her wound. She felt heat gathering beneath her dress and swallowed hard. His gaze was focused, brows knitting together as he worked. But Merari could see a blush gathering along his jawline, betraying him as it crept up into his ears.

“You don’t have to kneel in front of me,” she whispered.

“You’re a Princess, my lady.” He looked up at her, his eyes shimmering and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s my duty to kneel for you.”

Merari was at a loss, her tongue dragging over her suddenly parched lips.

Bucky held her gaze, "Just as it's my duty to protect you."

The intensity of his gaze suddenly shifted, and he smirked, "Which is why I'm the one who stands guard at your door. Every. Single. Night."

He finished cleaning her hand and raised himself up, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her face when he spoke again, "Would you tell me, Princess, when you had the chance to lay with any other knights? Because I would have gutted anyone who came to you will ill intent." 

Merari could feel the goosebumps as they appeared over the skin on her arms, if she tilted her chin up her nose could brush against the soft scruff of his tense and angry jaw. She could feel his breath and with it the hungry desire to show her just how badly she had been caught in her lie. 

"You think you know your princess because you stand guard?" She quipped, and even then as the burning rush of fear coursed through her she steeled herself, she had never lost an argument against him, and she wasn't about to let him get the best of her that easily. "Then you already know all the sweet sounds I can make without the help of a man."

His blue eyes grew dark with challenges as they flickered over her face, hesitating only for a moment on the pout of her bottom lip before he spoke again, "I have every single soft, sweet whine that has ever left those lips," he inched closer, trapping her on the bed between his strong arms and pressed his lips to her ear, "memorized."

Merari felt her body melt as one of those whines started to slip through her teeth. She stopped it halfway, breathing heavily through her nose as she felt Bucky’s lips press into a grin against the skin of her earlobe. 

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin an inch, her nose brushing deeper into his long, soft curls. He smelled of rain, sweat and the iron tang of blood. 

“Merari…” Bucky whispered, turning his face slowly, lips trailing along her skin,  brushing against her jaw until he was at the corner of her mouth. 

She parted her lips slightly, taking a breath, feeling her lower lip touch his upper one.

“Tell me,” he whispered against her lips, “what is it that makes your mouth leave those pretty noises at night when you think nobody is listening?” his mouth was just inches away from hers.

“Tell me,” he demanded in a soft tone which made her lower parts fill with more heat. 

His hand slowly caressed her arm up and down, his hot breath still just inches away from hers. When he slowly brushed the fabric of her dress to the side, his bare hand on her sensitive skin, she couldn’t resist a small whimper.

“Exactly like that, princess,” he grinned in satisfaction, getting that kind of reaction out of her.

"Don't," Merari whispered and Bucky's hand moved away from her like he was burned by the flushed skin across her collarbones. 

"No," she breathed with a soft laugh. "I mean...don't call me princess. There's no one else here, for the gods' sake." 

Her exasperated tone made his eyebrow quirk up, but he said nothing. The palm of his hand caressed her cheek as he leaned closer, the other hand coming around her back to keep her close. Close to him is where she belonged at all times if she had her way. 

"As you wish," Bucky smiled softly, his tongue darting out over his lips before rubbing his nose against hers.

She bit her lip and found every fleck of grey in his blue eyes as he watched her face for any sign she was scared. 

"Tell me what you want...Merari."

“I want…” she started, senses heightened with the warmth of his breath and delicate brush of his nose. 

“It’s just us,” Bucky reminded her, voice soft and low and only for her in the quiet lodgings.

“Kiss me?” 

Not as bold as she’d have liked with her request, her eyelids fluttered closed as Bucky dragged the tip of his nose lower, lips ghosting hers. 

“Things might change if we do this.” 

“I don’t care, kiss me. Touch me, Bucky. Show me how you would unearth the sounds you overhear.”

She could feel the muscles of his arm tremble under the delicate touch of her hand as if he were at war with himself.

“Bucky,” she whispered against his mouth, “please.”

A low groan left his chest and the last thin thread of his restraint snapped.  His hand slid from her cheek to cradle the back of her head as he closed the final hair’s breadth between them and captured her lips with his.

She whimpered against his mouth, her own so unsure and timid in response. She’d never been kissed like this before. The way his stubble scratched her skin, surely leaving marks behind, the desperation in the way he held her, it was enough to make her head spin. 

But the lie that she had told him about laying with other knights sat like a knot in the pit of her stomach. He was going to know by the way she kissed, or the way she was beginning to tremble beneath him. He was gentle and tender, pulling moan after moan out of her as he took complete control. One of his hands rested on her waist, warm and inviting despite her soaked dress, fingers playing at the soft leather cords that kept it fastened to her body. 

He pulled back, his pupils nearly black and his throat bobbing up and down in his throat nervously as he studied every inch of her face. She felt warm beneath his gaze and his lips formed a sly and wicked smile.

“You’ve never lain with a Knight, have you?” He asked.

“I told you I have.”

His smirk grew wider.

“You and I both know that’s not true, my dove.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “I'm outside your bed chamber every single night. If you want this, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this,” she practically whimpered.

The words tumbled from her lips and Bucky pulled back, nodding his head. 

“Can I undress you?” 

Her eyes widened and her chest got tighter and tighter with each breath she took. She was just trying to keep herself upright.

“Yes.” 

He turned her around to face the bed and she could feel her legs struggling to hold her up. Suddenly, the leather strings that kept her dress fastened began to loosen and one of Bucky’s calloused hands drifted up toward his shoulder to push the fabric down. He left soft kisses and a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“I’ll be gentle,” he assured her, warmth stitched into his voice. “I promise.”

Her dress fell loose, the cool air licking at her hot skin as his other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest tightly. Her skin connected with the damp fabric of his tunic and she scowled, needing to feel his skin. 

"There are too many layers between us Knight," she whined. She nearly melted as his chest rustled against her in a quiet laugh. He carefully moved her hair over her shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the base of her neck as he tried to hide his amusement. "Are you laughing at me?" She asked, trying to pull away. 

"Perhaps," he mumbled, gripping her tighter. He nibbled at her ear lobe, running his sharp teeth against her sensitive skin as his fingers drummed gently against her hip above her skirts. "Be patient Merari, the storm rages still outside and I plan to take my time with you before we are shoved back to the world that awaits us when the clouds break."

Despite his words, his hands moved to unlace the layers she had on underneath, pushing her skirts past her hips, hands following the path of the fabric until they fell away above her knee, falling to the floor, leaving her only in her chemise. 

Bucky’s hands slowly slid back up the fronts of her thighs, one hand sliding around to the side, sliding on the fabric and just barely cupping her ass. His other hand trailed lightly across her front, crossing over her covered mound, with the slightest hesitation, continuing on up her stomach to the bottoms of her heaving breasts. 

“Tell me, Merari,” Bucky whispered, hovering just behind her, not letting the cold fabric of his tunic touch her warm skin. “Would you have me undress first, or shall I finish what I started?”

"It wouldn't be very chivalrous of you to leave a lady wanting," Merari breathed with a lust filled grin, leaning back as his thumb and index finger wrapped around the base of her neck gently. "But I would like to see you first." 

Turning in his arms, Merari met Bucky's gaze and realized just how far gone he was. There was a longing in his eyes that pierced her chest and made her heart swell. 

With slow movements, Merari unlaced the strings at his throat, exposing soft planes of muscle and dark curls of hair that made her mouth go dry. Bucky merely watched her trembling hands as they lifted his tunic over his shoulders and she laid eyes on him for the first time. 

The familiar golden skin was littered with scars, sword slashes and small jabs covering his chest and abdomen. The hard muscles spoke of a life spent in service, built for battle and bringing death. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him once more gently, the soft swirl of his tongue so different than she would have ever imagined. Each kiss was like something different and now that her hands were on his bare skin, she craved more.

Merari had often stared at Bucky with longing - while he trained, when he guarded her, and when he was at ease with some of the other knights he called friends – daydreaming about what lay under his armour and his tunic.  Now, pressed against the heat of his bare chest that was littered with the scars of his devotion to her safety, Merari realised that her imagination had failed her spectacularly in her envisioning of his beauty.

He stilled as her delicate hands explored the geography of his musculature, allowing her a chance to discover for herself all of his wonders.  Each cleft and ridge of taut muscle, goose-fleshed skin, and a light shiver that followed the ghosting of her fingertips over his nipple.  Her doe eyes met his, hooded and dark with fettered lust, but still, he held for her.

In a moment of bravery, Merari laid a gentle kiss upon his chest, over a particularly nasty-looking scar.  One she recalled he had gotten saving her from a boar on a picnic several years ago.  Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed heavily through his nose.  All the ladies in waiting liked to talk about how the men would moan if a lady placed her lips just so.

Merari continued, kiss after tender kiss until, when almost kneeling, her fingertips lingered on the ties of his britches, and he flinched.  Bucky’s hands snatched hers away swiftly but gently.

“Hear me well, my Lady,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.  “I can’t deny that I want this, and have for some time.  But I won’t have you prostrate yourself before me when it is my place to kneel at your feet.”

Merari’s breath hitched in her throat as Bucky walked her backwards until she felt the bed bump softly against the back of her legs.  She sat automatically, lost in the reverent depths of his eyes as this giant of a man sank to his knees before her for the second time that night.  His hand found her cheek, cupping it gently as his thumb stroked across her cheekbone and then down over her mouth, dragging her bottom lip a little on the calloused pad.

A rush of heat flowed through her just from the intensity of his stare as his eyes flickered over the planes of her face before coming to rest on her mouth.  She felt his fingers flex on her cheek just a little before he pulled her towards him and kissed her with a fervour even greater than before.

He pulled her top lip between his, his other hand reaching up to cage her face, and Merari sank into his embrace.  Draping her arms around his neck she couldn’t help but open her legs wider, aching to feel him closer.  A desperate moan left her throat as his hand, once on her face, now slid over her knees and made its gentle but determined progress over the soft skin of her thigh.

She shivered against the metaphorical flames that licked her skin as Bucky’s tongue pushed and swirled against hers. His fingers danced along her skin, moving at an almost agonizing pace and she lifted her hips a little, aching for more. More of him, more of his mouth, anything. A small whimper filled the room that made Bucky chuckle against her mouth. He pulled back, his hand moving higher and higher until he was tracing letters along her inner thigh and she realized he was spelling his name. Leaving an invisible mark. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she clenched her teeth so hard she thought they would crumble in the back of her mouth.

Bucky’s lips curled into the warmest smile she had ever seen. Her eyes raked over the scars and soft freckles on his chest. She began to trace them with one fingertip, going lower and lower until Bucky grasped her wrist.

“Undress me,” she commanded, trying to put some authority back into her voice. 

Bucky merely chuckled and his fingers found a spot between her thighs that made her eyes widen the second he began to circle it. There was a beautiful pulsing sensation that made her rock her hips, and her head fell back as she let out another ragged groan. 

“You might have authority out there,” his voice gruff as he dragged the tip of his nose up and down her throat. “But not in here, little dove. Do you feel where my fingers are?”

“Yes,” she rasped, choking on another moan.

“Good. I’m going to put my mouth here, okay?”

“Your mouth? Wh—"

“Yes or no, Merari. That’s all I need to hear.”

Her head swam with lust and she nodded her head, letting a soft, “yes” nestle between them. Suddenly, the warm breath on her face vanished and Bucky’s face was nestled between her thighs, his head concealed by her chemise. She felt his lips gliding along her skin, and the roughness of his beard made her whimper. And then his tongue found that spot and she covered her mouth with one hand before opting to bite down hard on her knuckles as she let out a strangled cry.

Bucky stopped suddenly, silencing her protest with a kiss on her inner thigh, and using his fingers again where his mouth had been a moment ago.

"My lady, I want to hear you scream," He rasped, pushing away the hem of her chemise so he could see her better. His stubble was dripping with the dampness that had formed between her legs, "Don't you dare swallow those beautiful noises."

Merari nodded, "Yes, yes! Just don't stop!"

He chuckled, diving back in with a long, slow, torturous lick up her folds before sucking on that sensitive spot again.

"Oh, oh! Bucky!"

His hands spread her thighs further apart, his fingers coaxing her folds apart, getting coated in thick wetness.  As he sucked on that one spot, above where his hand was, he gently pushed a finger inside her. 

“God! Bucky, oh my god, how- it’s so-” Merari couldn’t finish her sentence, overwhelmed and feeling strangely full yet empty at the same time. 

“If it’s too much, I’ll stop,” Bucky said, a head popped out from her skirt, stilling his hand with his finger mostly inside her. 

“No! I want this, I want more. Please Bucky?” Merari asked, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him.

It was strange, the taste of herself on his tongue, but feeling the rumble of a groan against her lips had her throbbing again. She moved impatiently against him and Bucky gripped her thighs, gently holding her in place.

"Patience," he chastised, a stern look on his handsome face. "You deserve someone who will take their time." 

Bucky kissed the apple of her cheek and she giggled softly, feeling his hands slide the fabric of her chemise up until she was exposed to the warm firelight. 

"Someone who will give you everything you need," he murmured once more. 

This time, his mouth sucked at the unblemished skin of her neck, making Merari keen and gasp in his arms. It was like a bite, but it sent shockwaves straight to her cunt. His tongue soothed the mark before Bucky raised his head. 

Dropping down to his knees once more, his hands kneaded the soft flesh of her thighs and Merari groaned as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Someone," Bucky breathed as her legs splayed open in his grasp. "Who will bow to you and enjoy every second of it." 

It was as if he knew exactly want she wanted, all those years of watching and waiting leading to this. He probably knew her better than she knew herself and he took it out on her body with skilled precision. 

As his tongue delved deep inside her, Merari gripped the thick locks of dark hair that brushed her thighs. 

"Oh my," she gasped with a breathless laugh, shocked at the sudden sensation. "Gods, Bucky."

Looking down beyond the scrunched-up fabric of her chemise, the exposed plane of her tummy and the soft curls of her mound, she met Bucky’s eyes as he devoured her eagerly.  The thrill and stifled embarrassment she felt joined seamlessly with the intense pleasure building with each kiss, each lick, and each wicked suckling his mouth made.  She threw her head back and moaned, gasping as if her breath had been stolen, and all Bucky did was smirk, his twinkling eyes full of mischief.

It was all too much, and yet not enough.  The sharpness of her pleasure, exquisite in its ferocity, was too much to take.  She bore down, clenching around the absence of Bucky’s finger, the feeling almost enough.  Almost.

“Please…”

Her begs were like sobs, wracked with desperation until she felt him at her entrance once more.  He circled teasingly as he consumed her, his finger dipping inside deeper with each intrusion.  The slight sting caused her to gasp but he shushed her and soothed her with kisses to her inner thighs, gently stroking deep inside her.  His deft finger added more pleasure once he returned his lips to their sworn task.

The bedsheets twisted into a knot within her clenched fist as Merari tried to ground herself against the intensity of the feelings that coursed through her.  It was as if a spring were being wound inside her, tighter and tighter with every movement of Bucky’s finger, every lave of his tongue.

Her other hand found its way into his hair, twining themselves through his locks and urging him ever on.  Her hips began to buck against his face, small movements at first that grew as pleasure began to overtake her.

“Gods, more Bucky, please!” She begged through gritted teeth, almost screaming as he slid a second finger inside her along with the first.

“That’s it Merari, let me hear you.”

Her screams threatened to crumble the walls, but she didn’t care. Bucky’s fingers seemed to be hitting a spot inside of her that lit up every nerve ending— that combined with the pressure and pace of his tongue… She felt like weeping, and she didn’t know why. 

Merari felt like an elastic band stretched so tightly that when he crooked his fingers, she cried out again, a tidal wave of pleasure drowning her as her muscles began to tremble. Bucky continued to lap at that spot and move his fingers at a deliciously slow pace while wave after wave of pure bliss consumed her and forced strangled cries from her throat. 

She was coated in sweat and when it was all too much, she squeezed his head between her thighs and whimpered. Every muscle contracted and relaxed as Bucky withdrew his fingers, climbing on top of her while she sucked in the cool air.

“I told you I committed every single one of those sounds you made for me to memory,” he said softly, one hand gliding up her waist and cupping her breast. She felt sparks as he dragged his thumb across her nipple. “But I don’t think I’ve heard them all just yet.”

She swallowed the invisible wad of cotton lodged in the back of her throat.

“I-- I was bluffing,” she choked out, humiliation washing over her in the aftermath.

Bucky chuckled, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I know.” Another kiss. "It's alright. I'll guide you. I belong to you tonight, Merari."

As the tremors eased away, Bucky nuzzled Merari's neck, kissing and nipping at her skin.

"You ready for more, my dove?" He asked, pausing in his affections to check on her.

"More?" She asked, amazed that there could be anything better than what she had just experienced.

"Of course," He whispered, "That was just the beginning."

Bucky pressed more kisses to Merari’s neck, trailing down her chest until he was sucking her nipple into his mouth, fabric and all. She gasped at the sensation, cool silky fabric getting wet with his warm saliva and breath. 

Merari held his head to her chest, her fingers buried in his long locks, pressing up into his mouth as his hand cupped her other breast, fingers rolling and gently pinching her nipple. 

“Bucky, please, I need-“ Merari stopped herself. 

“Tell me, my dove, what do you need?” Bucky asked as he pulled back, her chemise soaked, the air cool and making her nipple harden further. 

“I need, whatever more is,” she murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his jaw, losing herself and pressing more kisses up to his neck to his ear. “Please good sir, I need- I need you.”

Bucky turned to catch her lips with his own as he lifted her up, her thighs clenching around his stomach as they slid further up the bed. She let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden motion and Bucky let out a gentle laugh. 

Settling down between her thighs, his hips dug into her skin as he rocked against her, the leather pants rough but slick against her cunt. 

"Bucky," Merari whined as she laughed. "Stop teasing." 

"After all the time I've waited," Bucky drawled above her, her nails digging into his shoulders as he dragged his hips against her slowly. "I think I've earned a little bit of teasing...Merari." 

At the sound of her name on his lips once more she whimpered and kissed him hard, panting with need. Her hips rolled against him, in slow, steady waves as Bucky reached down to unlace his breeches.

“We go slow,” he rumbled, that raspy voice making more heat flare in her chest. “You tell me if it’s too much.” 

He grasped one of her wrists and brought her hand up to wrap around his cock. She gasped softly at the size of it and Bucky let out a groan, guiding her hand to stroke him slowly. He was already falling apart and quickly, Merari began to get the hang of it, even gliding her thumb over the tip. It seemed to make him shiver. She liked that.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” His head rolled back, along with his eyes until she saw the whites of them. “Fuck.”

She continued to stroke him, but every second he wasn’t inside of her was pure agony. She felt a deep ache, almost like a hunger inside of her and wound her legs around his waist. It was then that she realized how much she had wanted this, all of the back and forth between them, the barbs they traded, the insults… none of it mattered. She let it all fall away.

“Please,” she begged.

He chuckled.

“I could get used to hearing that word from you.”

“And I could get used to you kneeling,” she quipped. 

Bucky smirked as Merari guided his cock toward her slick cunt, pushing the tip against her entrance; testing herself. He let out a whine and dipped his head, kissing her softly.

“Anything for you.”

Slowly, he began to push inside of her. It stung, and he was careful to go as slow as he could. Bucky kissed away the tears that stained her lashes and all Merari could feel was warmth in her chest, spreading slowly to every part of her body as he filled her up. Pain began to turn to pleasure as her body relaxed and she took him deeper and deeper. Bucky kissed the tip of her nose when he noticed her breath getting shallow.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Her breath hitched in her chest and she nodded a little desperately, her hands sliding up from where they had migrated to his hips, up his back and to his shoulders. She clung to him, broad and filling up all her senses, the tang of sweat and blood still in the air as they moved, joining with the scent of sex, creating a heady atmosphere that Merari let herself fall deeper into. 

Her back arched as Bucky’s cock brushed against a spot inside her, making sparks light up the blood in her veins. A moan left her lips and Bucky smirked, a groan leaving his own lips as Merari tightened on him, responding to the pleasure she felt.

He kept his promise, rocking his hips slowly while peppering her face with sweet kisses. Merari was already beginning to fall apart. She raked her fingernails down his back, feeling a topography of scars along his skin, tracing the elevation of each and wondering where he got it and how. She wondered if he cried, or took each wound with his teeth gritted. There was no doubt in her mind that Bucky was strong. She could see it, but part of her always thought there was a softness to him. It was difficult to find through his arrogance and icy exterior.

Merari’s moans grew louder and louder as her body moved with his, the bed creaking beneath them and they became lost in each other. 

“I’ve needed you for so long,” he confessed through moans.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, gliding her thumb across his stubble.

"How long?" She asked.

"My whole life."

Merari felt the familiar sting at the corners of her eyes return once more, only this time it was because the man she lived to aggravate, torment with her silly notions and acts of rebellion had turned into someone she would need for more than just tonight. 

"Bucky," she whimpered feeling him settle completely within her. She wiggled and writhed beneath him forcing herself to become accustomed to his size and only driving her pleasure as her body moved. 

He dipped his head, leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline, down the column of her neck and in between the swell of her breasts. "Say my name again, Merari." Bucky requested, the tone in his voice was needy but with enough rasp that caused her skin to gooseflesh. 

"Bucky," she moaned feeling his hips pull away from her almost completely before slowly driving himself within her again. His name was long and drawn out with the movement only to be accompanied by the sweet sound of his own pleasure escaping from his lips against her sweltering skin.

Merari wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him close to her, forcing him deep inside her, his hips grinding and making short little thrusts. 

Every movement of his hips had his cock pressing against that spot from earlier, the one that made her feel alight. 

The feeling kept building, and Merari couldn’t hold it back, this fire raging throughout her as she screamed her pleasure, shouting out her knight’s name.

She was overcome with bliss, and Bucky began to fuck her with wild abandon, hitting that spot over and over again until she was quivering beneath him.

“I’m gonna—“

“Please,” she begged. “Please, Bucky?”

Every muscle coiled beneath her touch and Bucky’s hips stilled as he spilled into her, his broken cry forcing her back to arch as he pulled one more climax out of her. Finally, he collapsed, mouth gliding against hers as they breathed heavily. She wanted to say something but there was nothing to say, and her mind was half gone anyway. Merari wasn’t even sure if she would be able to write her own name after that.

He pulled back and smiled at her.

“Are you okay?”

She laughed and her fingertips brushed his cheek, but his eyes were desperately searching hers, checking in, making sure he hadn’t hurt her.

“I’m wonderful, Bucky.”

She kissed him again to reassure him.

Merari felt him melt into her kiss. She wanted to kiss him like this every day, every hour for the next eternity of their lives. It seemed to be hasty but as he pulled away from her and the blue in his eyes had returned where the usual stoned anger sat, was now something softer and littered with warmth. 

Bucky slowly rolled from her and off of the bed. Merari watched as he tucked himself back into his trousers as he moved towards the dresser and the bowl of water. 

"What are you after?" She asked, propping herself up onto her elbows. Her voice was quiet with disappointment that his warmth was taken from her. 

He glanced over his shoulder, working one of the clean rags in the water and gently wringing it out. "A rag," Bucky started as he turned to her and made his way back to the bed. He sat beside her, "let me clean you up?" He asked gently, holding the rag carefully in his hand as he waited for permission to touch her. 

She wasn't sure as to what he meant but she trusted him. Merari laid back with a soft nod only wincing slightly at the chill from the water hitting the inside of her thigh as Bucky worked smoothly to wipe up the remnants of their need for one another. 

"You don't have to do this," she said softly, watching the way the muscles in his biceps moved with him. 

Again those blue eyes met her with the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen, "I do because it is my duty to take care of you, with or without the armor."

Merari’s heart swelled, a smile and blush overtaking her face, making her turn and bury her face in the pillow. 

Bucky returned to the dresser, wringing out the rag and setting it to dry, hesitating only a moment before turning around. 

Merari lifted her head, gazing at Bucky beyond the edge of the bed. “You’re not going leave me cold here, are you?” she asked, sitting up, propping herself up on her non injured hand, reaching down and pulling at the bed covers.

Bucky grinned.

“It would be foolish of me to ignore a beautiful woman in my bed.”

She arched a brow.

“Your bed? I paid for this room.”

He climbed onto the mattress and she felt it dip beneath his weight as he pressed a kiss to her lips. She giggled against his mouth, but Bucky seemed to savour the sound like he was afraid of losing something. His hands cupped her face and he broke the kiss, staring at her.

“Every day I thank the gods that I get to wake up and look at you.”

She bit her lip.

“Even when I frustrate you?”

“Especially when you frustrate me,” Bucky laughs, grasping her injured hand tenderly and pressing kisses to her knuckles. Bright blue eyes caught hers and her heart felt like it was cracking. Bucky lifted his head. “Merari, I—"

He exhaled softly and tried to speak again but all he could do was shake his head. Merari pressed her finger to his lips. She knew what he was trying to say, the words that were caught in his chest as he took a breath. Her mouth covered his again and she pulled him down on top of her, her legs winding around his. If she asked him to run away with her right now, the desperation in his kisses told her he might say yes. 

Merari broke the kiss and Bucky smiled. 

“We should sleep,” he murmured.

"Will tomorrow be different?" She blurted, the sudden fear of her life and the idea of this night ending swarming her. 

Bucky's tongue ran over his bottom lip as he considered his answer. Though a part of her knew she wouldn't want to hear it. 

"Tomorrow will be just like any other day," he started as he righted her chemise and rolled next to her tugging the quilts up and over their bodies, "you will frustrate me to no end and I will wish to the stars that we will not part," he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her to his chest, "but," his voice dropped gently, "you are a Princess though you disdain the word with every fiber of your being, there are duties you have to uphold as do I." 

"So your answer is yes," she said hiding the crack in her voice through a whisper as she tucked her head into his neck. 

"I wish that it was not." 

Merari sniffled softly hoping he wouldn't hear her but his hold on her grew a little tighter reassuring her that at least for this night, he was not going anywhere. 

Soon, she fell asleep listening to the quiet thundering of his heart raising her white flag to a night she wouldn't forget. 

Morning crept in slowly and as rays of sunshine filtered through the dusted windows Merari's eyes opened slowly. It was quiet in the inn below. The boisterous noise from the night before had settled leaving the soft creaking of the wood settling and the gentle rhythm of her breathing. She rolled over, finding the bed to be empty next to her. She splayed her hand across where Bucky had laid his head for the night, the sheets still warm from him. 

It was only then she heard the faint sound of voices just outside the door. She tried to listen for a moment and could hear the unmistakable sound of Bucky's morning voice getting closer to the wooden door before it slowly pushed open. 

He was still in the leather trousers he wore from the night before and the tunic had returned to cover the mapped-out scars she had committed to memory. His hair was a little curlier from sleep and the stubble that peppered his jaw had darkened a tad bit with the new morn. 

"Good morning," she said catching his attention. 

His body tensed at the sound of her voice. He clutched an envelope in his hand and balanced two bowls of porridge in the other, "Good Morning Princess." 

Merari's heart cracked at the use of her title. No longer was she just Merari, no the formalities of their relationship had returned. "What is that you have?" 

She raised a long painted finger to the letter. 

"A letter from the kingdom." He answered, setting the bowls onto the dresser before holding out the letter to her, "It's addressed to you." 

Her brows furrowed gently as she took the envelope, opening it and scanning over the words. She felt her eyes widen and covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the gasp lodged in her throat. 

"He's dead." Was all she could muster. 

Bucky sat down next to her on the bed, taking the letter from her and reading the words confirming that the King had been murdered during transport back to the Castle. She ached to feel almost nothing for her father's death only horror at how the letter described it. "This means that--" 

"You're Queen." He finished for her. Their eyes met as silence fell between them. 

"Queen," Merari tested out the new title that felt more foreign than Princess. 

He leaned forward, his hands cupping her cheeks as he discarded the letter, "My lady, this means you return Home, not to the nunnery and-" The words became stuck in his throat like molasses. 

"I don't leave you nor you leave I," this time it was her that finished for him. 

He shook his head, a sad smile spread across his lips as he leaned into her, pressing his forehead to hers, "Today is different my dove but it is the start of something much greater." 

"You are under my command?" She asked, knowing the answer. 

She felt him smile as his lips brushed hers, "I was always under your command, Merari."

[bigbadbatch]

The Light We Feel - Ch. 1

Prologue

Hunter x fem!OCKeep reading

Jedi OC meets the Bad Batch for the first time.

Chapter One - Thea’s POV

“And then we blasted the creature out of a window!” I laughed at Omega’s excited story, the girl so expressive as she told her tale, she nearly knocked cups off the table she sat at. “No wonder your brothers went on this mission without you. You are the perfect size snack for an angry sarlaac.” I finished wiping down the bar counter and sat with Omega at the sabaac table. The table lit up, the game blinking into the starting positions. Omega huffed. “The only reason I didn’t go is because of the sand. I hate sand. And that’s all Tatooine is. Sand.”

She made the first move. I took a moment to study the board. This is how it had been for the past two weeks, ever since Marko dropped me off. Omega’s brothers had been away on mission, and she had been so excited to meet me. “Cid doesn’t play against me anymore. Not since I wiped her of credits.” Omega had complained. Since working for Cid I had become not only the resident bar-keep, but Omega’s confidant and ally. In these past two weeks, the we had formed a sort of bond. Though I had easily ten years on Omega, a sisterhood had bloomed. I must admit, it felt good. I had spent months isolated, and with the constant moving and running, friendships were brief. Omega was so easy to talk to, and so smart. It amazed me how quickly she picked up on things.

Those first few nights we had talked for hours. About Omega’s past, her brothers (Clones- can you believe it? A squad of defective clones who deserted the empire as it rose) and of my past, too. “I’ve lived all over the galaxy” I’d say. “Loth is my home world, and I miss it very much.” I’ve found the most compelling lies also hold fractions of truth.

Omega believed that I had been an archeologist, traveling the planets surveying and eventually dealing in artifacts. The story was that I refused to sell an artifact to a rivaling faction of the culture it came from, and had to flee and go into hiding. “That’s why Cid took me in”. I’d said, the first time I’d had to share my new story.

But now I sat across from Omega, having made a series of moves that I actually thought would finally earn me a win against the young girl.

“Omeggaaaa, where’s the Mantell Mix, I’m starving!” A loud booming voice echoed through the bar as a hulking shape stepped through the doorway. “Wrecker!” All thoughts of the game abandoned, Omega hopped up and ran to hug who I had come to assume was one of her brothers. My breath caught. In walked four clones, but these clones didn’t look how I expected them to. They were all of varying heights and build, and were tattooed and adorned with a myriad of scars. Still my heart pounded, and I struggled to calm the beating. Clones. The sound of blaster fire echoed in my memory. My body tensed, ever so slightly, and I struggled to remind myself- You’re safe. I took a few quiet, deep breaths and plastered a smile on my face. Show time.

“Hi.” I said. “You must be the band of brothers I’ve heard so much about. I’m Thea.” Wrecker, an immensely tall and broad man, bald with a blind eye shook my hand vigorously. “Nice to meet ya. Thanks for keeping Omega company while we were gone.” A tall thin man looked up, his goggles reflecting gold. “Yes Cid mentioned over comm that she had a new recruit she’d taken in. Pleasure to meet you, I’m Tech, you’ve met Wrecker.” A shorter man, with droidian appendages and additives nodded and chimed in with a simple “Echo. Pleasure.” I turned to the last man and my heart stuttered. He stared at me, his eyes flicking over my form. He seemed to study me, seeing past my facade and into the very heart of me.

He knows.

But he didn’t reach for a blaster, didn’t make to carry out that world-ending order as other clones had. He gave a terse nod, his long hair falling into his face. He had broad, strong shoulders and arms, a tight lipped smirk above his stubbled jaw. The tattooed skull half of his face seemed to grin as he said, “Name’s Hunter. I’ve gotta get this to Cid. Nice to meet you.” And he was off. I exhaled. Perhaps he didn’t have some sixth sense after all.

Omega prattled on to her brothers, regaling them of our talks and our games, her infinite wins against me, and of the time I roughhoused two patrons out the door with only my bare hands after a bar fight had broken out. “She’s really strong! Wrecker, she might could take you in an arm wrestling match!” I laughed. They laughed. And my fears eased. I smiled at Omega and got up to grab the men some caf. Hunter walked back into the bar, and his eyes met mine. He smiled softly as I handed him a cup. “So.” He said. “Cid has your first mission with us ready to go. Feel up to it?”

I nod.

He smiles again.

And we begin.

Chapter 2

[ciarax]

Fallen pt.1 | H.H.

Alastor x Fem!OC

Summary - In Hell's tumultuous depths, Neriah executes Lucifer's grim tasks, only to be rewarded with a temporary relief from the agony etched onto her skin. Stained and scarred, Neriah is faced with the consequences of her rebellion.

Warnings - Angst, mild description of injuries, Lucifer being an asshole?

A/N - I'm not really sure how this whole Tumblr fic post works but I'll figure it out. For now, enjoy this little prologue. I usually don't write reader, but for any requests I'll gladly accept.

Also, feel free to suggest how to improve, English isn't my mother language.

The air in Hell hung heavy with a mixture of sulfur and echoes of damned souls, Pentagram city bustling with energy, yells and screams of sudden battles at every corner. The remains of the demon she had just dispatched on Lucifer's behalf were scattered across the unforgiving pavement. The Overlord, with dangerous ideas of rebellion and suggestions of toppling the Morningstars from their privileged positions, had met a gruesome end. Despite Lucifer's temporary absence from the throne of Hell, his influence was still potent, especially when threats to his power or, more importantly, his daughter Charlie, arose.

Neriah Sighed, barely cleaning her hands on her teared dress, irremediably stained with blood and who knows what else. She didn't care, though, that was a job Lucifer had oh so kindly asked her to do despite no deal what made between them, but the reward was made Neriah gave in every time. The dead body of the Overlord was left to root in a desert alley, it would be found by a drunk or a prostitute, who knows.

The soft, red tufts on Neriah's head, resembling fox ears, twitched slightly upon hearing some grunts from the body left behind her. Despite being a fragile human soul, Neriah had to admit how that demon was quite adamant on surviving her wrath. Tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes, she approached the still groaning form. The demon, reduced to a battered state still managed to lift his head, locking eyes with Neriah, defiance and pain etched across his features and dark blood tickling down what remained of his face.

“Persistent, aren’t you?”, Neriah mused, her voice low with a detached curiosity, “most demons would’ve succumbed by now.”

Her words stirred an involuntary growl from the demon, a mix of pain and resentment, evidently struggling to form coherent words but still determined to survive. Only having the energy to follow with his eyes the crouched figure of Neriah, her light hair stained with fiery red tips and some of his blood.

“You cling to existence with an admirable tenacity. Why resist the inevitable?”, her voice was not as emotionless as before, Neriah’s sapphire eyes mixing with the bloody red’s of the demon in front of her who, despite being on the verge of fading away, still managed a crocked smile showing his charred pointy teeth.

“Death’s embrace ain’t appealing as you might think, fallen angel. I have my reasons to linger”, the demon replied, his words punctuated by labored breaths.

“Reasons?”, Neriah mused, fox ears twitching slightly at the demon’s words, “Everyone has reasons, yet, your kind rarely survives my judgment.”

Neriah didn’t wait the answer of the demon, rising up to her feet and towering over him, her expression unreadable as a small flame on her hand quickly grew in size and heat, completely surrounding the former overlord of the Seventh Circle. The flame danced and kept burning until ashes where the only thing left on the barren ground, the warm light merging with the slightly charred limb on Neriah’s back, the once white feathers barely responding to the manifestation of power. With the task completed, she turned away, blending once again into the chaotic streets of Hell.

The air in Lucifer’s grand chamber was still and dusty as if none bothered to live in that huge castle anymore, its existence left to itself. Neriah stepped forward without sparing a glance at the almost abandoned furniture, her eyes focused on the slightly bored expression on Lucifer’s features. A sinister smirk twitched on his lips as he observed her arrival, lounged on his obsidian throne which kept Lucifer on higher height.

“Ah, Neriah, how delightful of you to grace me with your presence.” Lucifer’s tone held a hint of amusement, aware of the upper hand he got against the woman in front of him, her sin permanently etched on her body.

Neriah’s ears twitched, her eyes narrowing as she carefully studied the amused expression on Lucifer’s face, “Your nuisance has been dealt with… I did you what you needed. Now, you give me what I want.”

“Sharp as always”, Lucifer chuckled, summoning the same ointment that gave him the possibility to require Neriah’s assistance whenever he thought useful. It was the price to repay all the favors Lucifer asked her to do, as Neriah couldn’t deal with the aftermath of her sin by herself.

Neriah was quick to catch the small bottle, her sapphire eyes, slightly torn toward a much yellow hue studied the ointment with care before nodding satisfied. Her expression stern as she turned around, however, she was halted by the voice of the King of Hell, his tone cutting through the air with a warning.

“Have you ever considered the possibility of redemption? A Virtue such as yourself, Neriah, fallen to Hell for your rebellious act. It sounds quite pathetic, don’t you think?” Lucifer's words hung in the air like a venomous whisper, a calculated taunt that sought to destroy Neriah's composed facade.

Lucifer couldn’t see the expression on Neriah’s face, her body still turned away from him and showing nothing more than her torn and stained dress and the cause of her constant pain. The cause of her constant pain was laid bare for the King of Hell to see—the remaining fragments of what was once a beautiful, pure-white wing. Now charred and with singed feathers, the appendage devoid of any practical purpose other than to serve as a permanent reminder of what had caused Neriah's expulsion from Heaven. The twin wing was missing, leaving behind only a permanent, open wound scarred onto her skin, slightly lower on Neriah’s back than the usual position of the wings for an angel.

“Redemption is a luxury I cannot afford, Lucifer”

Lucifer’s chuckle turned into a smirk, “How come, the vessel of change who can’t redeem herself? And here I thought yours wasn’t only a child tantrum, my dear Neriah.”

For once it hadn’t been hard for Lucifer to see a change in Neriah’s usually stoic expression, the subtle twitch of her atrophied wing gave him a glimpse of how he had struck a nerve. It was precisely what he wanted—to provoke a reaction, to peel away the layers of her composure.

“Are you the one talking about being redeemed, Lucifer? The first angel who crashed down here in this hole of damned souls”, Neriah tilted her head slightly, her once sapphire eyes now tinted with yellowish hue as her lips turned up into a not-so-subtle grin of amusement. Satisfaction radiated from her face once she noticed the growing irritation on Lucifer’s face, his eyes starting to turn red as his ego inflated with anger.

Before Lucifer could answer, though, Neriah vanished in a mist of black dark red fog, the echo of a smile reverberating in the huge, barren hall.

The air clung thick with an unsettling weight, and eerie tapestries adorned the walls where Neriah reemerged, depicting angels in descent and demons rising. Neriah's footsteps echoed against the cold stone floor, each sound reverberating through the desolate halls like a mournful lament. As she made her way towards the towering gates, the colossal entrance groaned open, revealing the sprawling expanse of Pentagram City below. The symphony of agony and chaos gradually faded as she ventured deeper into the heart of the abyss of the less populated area of the city.

A small, solitary sanctuary tucked away from the chaotic heart of Pentagram City. The air was thick with the oppressive weight of her surroundings, the stone walls, adorned with shadows that seemed to dance in the flickering candlelight.

Closing the heavy door behind her, Neriah gingerly removed the tattered remnants of her dress once she reached her bedroom. She winced as the cool air met the exposed skin, the atrophied wing on her back throbbed incessantly.

With a sigh, she cautiously traced her fingertips over the remnants of her atrophied wing, the pain was a twisted reminder of the rebellion that led her to the depths of Hell. Neriah's thoughts drifted back to the events that had led her to this forsaken place. She remembered the misplaced act of compassion and the thrill of defiance that had coursed through her veins as she stood against the celestial order, the echoes of betrayal that had haunted her every step as she plummeted into the depths of Hell.

The remaining wing on her back was the witnessing of the Dominion angel she defeated, while her own wings were securely tucked away from prying eyes, this one wasn’t possible to do the same, attached on her skin the moment she fell in Hell, the visible remainder of her sin.

Neriah struggled to reach the charred wing on her back, gingerly trying to apply the salve, the angles and contortions causing her to wince with each touch.

The echoes of her musings were interrupted by a sudden, low chuckle. The shadows in the room seemed to dance as Alastor materialized from the darkness, his grin both charming and unsettling. Neriah's sapphire eyes met his when Alastor’s voice cut through the silence.

"My, my, what have we here? Struggling again, my dear Neriah?"

Alastor's piercing eyes met Neriah's in the mirror as he approached, his gloved hands reached for the ointment, offering his assistance, his touch surprisingly gentle.

The magic-infused salve provided only temporary relief, its soothing warmth offering but a fleeting respite from the constant ache that gnawed at her soul.

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - VII

“I take the longest path if it’s safer and I have no qualms about hiding, Norm-boy. Some call it cowardly, I call it cautious. The Wastes are dangerous enough for a hunter alone, no need for unnecessary risks.” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to fight like others to be a fighter. You’re out here, ain’t you? That’s fighter enough for me.”

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VIII

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Words: 4.551

Warnings: Talk about Wasteland Typical Violence. Talk about near-death experience.

VII

Norm knew last night that he was in trouble. He just had underestimated how much, because as day broke and they were on the road again, he had a true notion of it. And it didn’t look good for him.

“So… Goose escaped from slavery. And Mika?” He asked at certain point in the morning, trying to distract his mind and eyes from that God-damned deep red-pinkish hue covering Marigold’s lips.

Lipstick. In the damned Wasteland.

Ever since his hormones started acting out in his teenage years, there was always something about a woman wearing it that called to him – and most of the ones still in the Vault had a hue so tame compared to that one.

He didn’t even know when she had applied it, just that it had been a shock. And the shade fit so well with her golden-brown skin, highlighting her lips in an almost impossible way to ignore, especially when she gave the extra-trouble cheeky grin.

How the hell was he supposed to deal with that?

“He never actually told us.”

Oh finally something that actually distracted his mind.

“Never?”

“Nope. Catarina found him… Twelve years ago, when she was coming back from Filly.” Marigold’s voice softened, eyes lost in the horizon. “He was wandering the desert, covered in blood. It wasn’t his.”

“How did she know that?”

Marigold looked at him, lips in a line – damn it, Norm, focus.

“He only had his boots on him. There were scars, but no fresh wounds. He was also dehydrated and pretty clearly suffering from sunstroke. After he recovered and we started to understand his signs, he just… Fit in with our routine. Didn’t ask for anything, even after he started helping in the ranch. At first mostly kept to himself, but was really good at helping Goose with Moth, then the twins and later Lily.” She raised her rifle with a smile. “And our guns have never been better. We don’t know from where he came or what happened before that day, but at this point we don’t care. He’s my brother, one of us. That’s all that matters.”

Norm blinked then nodded, crossing his arms. He couldn’t deny the “one of us”: it had been easy to see that Mika fit well in the family. That he was trusted.

At least there were no lies, just a lack of knowledge. This, he could understand.

“Why the signs? Does he have hearing loss?”

“Nope. Actually the better hearing of all of us, always knows when a gun is weird just by the sound. He just really hates to talk. Knife.”

Norm groaned in frustration, but crouched down and took the knife. Marigold looked at him, critical, and pursed her lips.

“Again, but keep your eyes on me from now on, don’t look down. You need to always be certain of where everything and everyone is.”

Norm sighed, but did it: sheathed the knife, then took it back, staring at Marigold the whole time, watching the critical look, the frowned eyebrows, the stern curve of her God-damned lips and that damned lipstick more than he… Hoped to – it would be a fat lie if he said he didn’t want to look.

She nodded for him to sheath the knife again and kept walking.

---------

Norm was looking forward to their lunch stop. They had passed some of the plants Goose’s notes described, and Marigold hadn’t objected to stopping to gather them, even at the consequence of slowing them down. She had helped him, cutting and digging where needed, correcting if he made a mistake.

Marigold may not have the deepness of Goose’s knowledge, but knew enough how to differentiate similar looking leaves, flowers, fruits and roots, keeping Norm from mixing up beneficial and poisonous ones.

As a result, he had a bunch of things on his coat’s pocket, and he wanted to store and organize it all better.

Marigold’s hand blocked and stopped him. Norm looked at her, and she touched her nose then made a sign for silence with that hand, the other taking her rifle. Frowning, Norm raised his head slightly, sniffling…

A slight sugary smell in the air, easy to miss if not actively searching something.

Marigold poked his shoulder and pointed down. She was scratching the point of her boot at the sand, and he saw what looked like a line of holes, a slight shimmering along it, almost as if the sand was wet. Just a few more steps and they would’ve stepped right in the middle of it.

He looked the path ahead, and it seemed clear of more of those tracks. To one side, a line of bushes and tall dried grass cut his view, but to the other he noticed a tall pile of rubble, the tracks circling it. Marigold climbed the pile up, steps silent, and looked around.

Norm also looked around from his position, and after almost a minute Marigold sighed and relaxed, crouching, hunting rifle relaxed, and beckoned him over.

“Here.”

She offered her arm as support, whispering, and Norm perched on a lower level of the ruble, not letting go of her arm. It was tall enough for him to see: giant ants in the distance, scampering quickly around a portion of the desert, carrying… Something, it was hard to see.

“They’re bigger than I thought.” He whispered, still watching, noticing the differences in sizes and bodies.

“No, these are actually bigger than the ones we have in the desert around the ranch. More black too. I also can’t see an entrance to their tunnels. Either not around here or hidden.”

“What’s worse?”

Marigold chuckled at that, mirthless.

“Both. They are fast and sneaky, so if it’s hidden you only notice when they’re upon you. I also heard of some tunnels extending for miles underground, so not around here can just mean we will stumble into it later, but I really hope not. C’mon.”

Norm got down with her help, and she stopped beside him.

“What’s the plan?” he accompanied her and imitated how Marigold carefully stepped over the tracks, not disturbing the damp sand.

“Pay attention for tracks and don’t disturb them. Less likely for the ants to get our scent and follow. Postpone lunch until I’m sure we ain’t at risk of being found by a pack of them. Not recommended to hunt them alone or without preparation.”

---------

They kept walking, paying extra attention to the path and stepping over tracks. Marigold explained that the shimmering was a substance called “ant nectar”. It was a culinary ingredient, but when pure it had chem effects, usually used by heavy workers to improve their performance, at the risk of addiction.

At certain points the tracks were so dense that they could only skirt around and try to find a clearer path. Marigold kept a hand on his shoulder the whole time, the other around the rifle’s butt, head turning this and that way and avoiding thick bushes and big piles of rubble. Clearly doing her best to make sure no giant ant would get the jump on them.

They were in the middle of the afternoon and it had been almost an hour since the last track they had found. The walk had been tense, and Norm felt his stomach tied in knots as they stopped briefly, not even sitting down, and barely able to nibble on the piece of dried radstag she shared with him.

“You think we’re in the clear now?”

“Possible. I still hope to find a place with all four walls and no broken windows for the night. And no basements. Better not to take risks.” Norm nodded. “Did we stray too much from what we planned?”

Norm pulled up the map, adding their location as “ant tunnels in the proximities”, and frowning at what he saw.

“Not exactly, but we did got turned around enough that we moved more south than we wanted and now are closer to those denser and taller ruins you pointed.”

“Aw, fuck, really?” Marigold looked over his shoulder, then took the binoculars from her backpack and squinted through them at the horizon. “Shit. Yeah, there’s some tall buildings over there. Fuck.”

“Skirt around them or cross the middle?” Norm looked up at Marigold, and she started to nibble on her lower lip, eyes still on the horizon, hands automatically storing the binoculars back – apparently they could cost a small fortune, so she preferred to not flaunt them around.

She stayed like that almost a whole minute and Norm had to consciously look at something else – damn lipstick.

“It will depend.”

“From?”

“Where there’s rubble blocking the path and radiation.” Marigold bit into the dried meat and looked at the map again, chewing.

Norm did the same, his eyes tracing the expanse of apparently empty land surrounding the ruins.

“Why not go through the desert around?” Marigold sighed.

“I normally would in a heartbeat, but what we just went through indicates extensive underground ant tunnels. For all I know we would stumble into more giant ants or even fall into the tunnels.”

He looked at the markers close to the ranch’s location.

“And it’s not like your hunting routes back home, where you’re already familiar with the tunnels and their entrances.”

“Pretty much. Right now, either we cross the ruins or skirt very close to them.”

Norm nodded and let his arm fall, nodding for Marigold to guide the way.

---------

Night was starting to fall when they stumbled into what looked like an old road store still standing, door swinging in the wind, lock broken. There was still some good distance to the ruins, and Norm hadn’t objected when Marigold said that it was better to take a look at them with sunlight.

She went ahead, hunting rifle in position as she stopped under the doorway, Norm some steps behind with the knife in hands. There was a skittering sound and a shot.

Silence again, and it remained for long moments, eventually broke by Marigold reloading her gun.

“Fucking radroaches. At least just one. C’mon, Norm-boy, it’s clear.”

The store was small, and someone had already gone through the trouble of barring windows and the back door with wood in the past. An improvised mattress was behind the counter, a layer of dust over it. Empty tin cans and soda bottles were scattered amidst metal shelves. Marigold easily moved one metal shelve to keep the door closed, after throwing the radroach out – no way to light a fire and cook it.

Norm was actually thankful for that.

Just then the both of them finally sat for the day, a unified groan as they used the excuse of a mattress as seat, and just sat for five whole minutes in silence, using each other’s shoulder as support.

“You think there’ll be giant ants after the ruins?” Norm managed to ask when Marigold lighted her oil lantern.

“Fuck, I really hope not. Catarina and Sarah never mentioned them, so I’m praying they are exclusive to this side and the two of them just use another path.”

Norm straightened his neck, staring as Marigold searched her backpack.

“Who’s Sarah?”

“Catarina’s wife.” Marigold didn’t even look up.

Norm blinked at the back of her head, opened his mouth… Then closed it again.

He couldn’t say why he was surprised. Marigold had three parents, all married between themselves. One of her siblings had two wives. Why two women married to each other was such a shock after this?

“A-ha! I knew I still had some!”

She pulled two cans from her pack, manually welded just like the ones she had sold Ma June, holding them like a prize.

“What’s that?” he asked just as she opened one and handed it to him alongside a fork.

“Cooked Brahmin with tato sauce. It’s even better when hot, but after sidestepping giant ants, it’s just what we need.” Marigold was already opening her own can and digging in, back against the wall.

Norm smelled it cautiously, and it was actually pleasant. The color also wasn’t that weird.

The meat was soft, and it made him remember Salisbury Steak. It was well seasoned, and together with the sauce – thick and red and melting on the tongue –, it was actually… Quite good, after all the insects he had eaten.

“You mentioned Brahmin before. Two headed, right?”

“Exactly. Basically what cows became. The meat is not easy to come by around these parts, fewer creators after Shady Sands was bombed, and most use them only as pack animals, so it can get really expensive.”

That explained the similar taste.

“Goose that made?”

“Hm-hm. It’s not something we usually eat, caps go all into materials for the ranch, but the whores in Filly pitched in for Moth’s last birthday.” She commented, turning the can to get the last dregs of the sauce.

Aaall right, that sounded interesting, but how did he ask details without sounding outright weird? He knew what whores were, sure, but it was really just used to refer to surface people or an insult in the Vault at this point – one that he had seen used only once, in a very heated argument about if someone had actually cheated or not that he had overhead when working in the kitchens; it had been the most fun he had ever had in that job.

Why would the ones that were presumably actually working with sex spend so much on Moth?

His silence must’ve lasted too long, because Marigold looked at him, cleaning a bit of sauce from the corners of her lips – damn it, Norm, focus.

“No whores in the Vault.”

“Nope.” He finally said, not going into all the other minor things, and taking another bite from the Brahmin meat. “But I know the meaning. Just… Curious about why they did it.”

“Goose’s natural meds helps them a lot. When they get sick, problems with pregnancies, avoid pregnancies and so on, they always end up in the ranch, and she charges only enough to cover materials, never more, even if they want to pay more.”

“But she couldn’t deny a gift for her son.” Marigold grinned and made finger guns.

Norm kept slowly eating, absentmindedly watching Marigold clean the can – sand and an old rag, then a clean rag dampened with unpurified water – and store it away. Nothing wasted. Ingenious.

Probably some days earlier he would be shocked at all that – someone helping whores without charging too much, the whores wanting to repay in some way and so on. The Vault didn’t paint them in a kind light, mixing them in with all the other savages unable to think and make their own informed decisions.

Probably the key thing was that at some point, in that short time since leaving Vault 33, he didn’t thought of the people in the surface as savages anymore.

Whores gifted expensive meat for a boy’s birthday because his mom was always helping them. Yeah. It made sense.

“Knife.”

Norm gave Marigold an incredulous look, his train of thought interrupted. She gave him the extra trouble cheeky grin.

“I’m eating.”

“Don’t care, the Wasteland don’t care. Now knife.” Grin still in place.

Norm rolled his eyes, left the fork inside the can and stretched to get the knife.

He looked towards his boot, and then her hand was around his wrist, twisting his hand away.

“Ouch.” It didn’t hurt, but it startled him.

“What I told earlier?” No cheeky grin, but also not a judgmental or scolding look.

“Don’t look away from you.” He answered and Marigold nodded.

“Again.”

Balancing the can on one hand, eyes on hers – and not on her lips and how the half-light deepened the color –, he extended his hand.

He avoided her hand before he reached the knife, but she managed to stop him from actually taking it out.

“Good. You know why?”

Norm scrambled to try and actually think about whatever the hell she was trying to teach. Fighting was Lucy’s hobby and strength, his was…Video Games. Discovering things.

“Before… I… Didn’t reach the knife.”

“And…?”

“I have done it now. And you need to keep me from taking it out.”

“Exactly.” She let go of him and nodded for him to keep eating. “It was about to become a fight for control of the knife, with one of my hands busy with keeping you from using it.”

“Marigold, I think it’s pretty clear you could’ve taken the knife from me easily.”

She frowned heavily at that, lips a straight line; it was the most serious Norm had actually seen her.

“Don’t ever underestimate yourself when you’re trying to keep yourself alive.”

That made Norm took her him again, almost as if it was the first day he was seeing her.

The scars had just become a part of her, and most of the time he barely noticed them now, but they were there. As were the others, covered by her clothes. Someone or something had put them there. Had gotten close enough, despite how good of a shot she was.

“You’re talking from personal experience, aren’t you?”

---------

Marigold watched his frown, distinctly worried. Fuck. He was perceptive and then some. It would do him good in the Wastes and with less savory folk, but, fuck, that wasn’t something she enjoyed talking about.

But she needed to.

“Yep. While we do our best, the Wasteland is not safe and survival ain’t easy.”

Norm opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything.

“Go righty ahead, ask away.” She waved him on.

“It’s just… You don’t really need to talk about it or whatever if you don’t want to, Marigold.”

Aw fuck, this man was just too sweet. The women in his Vault were insane for letting him slip away – well, more for her, for as long as they traveled together.

She sighed and let her body settle more in place, giving him a wry smile.

“Thanks for the worry, but I can deal with some discomfort if it helps you understand and survive.”

He pressed his lips in a line, his stare searching, then nodded, finishing his food; Marigold took the can and cleaned it, letting him gather his thoughts.

“… You’re not talking only about mutated animals.” It wasn’t a question. She still answered.

“No. Do you want details?”

There was a long pause; she looked up, and Norm nodded, face set with that determined look she had glimpsed in other moments. Still looked good on him.

Marigold couldn’t avoid scratching her nape before starting.

---------

Norm bent his legs and hugged them loosely, watching as Marigold focused on the oil lantern instead of him, the shadows along the burn scar towards him all angles and divots.

“I can’t tell for certain how old I was the first time I killed someone. But I know it was through the barrel of a gun, I was keeping watch in the ranch, and it was a raider. That was easy, they taught me well how to shoot and the distance… It’s just easier to do it when they are barreling and shooting at you and you have a gun and the higher ground.” A shrug, a sigh and she crossed her arms, a leg stretching in the dusty sandy floor. “Then I was seventeen and Ma started to let me go hunting alone.”

“Was it scary, hunting alone?” Norm managed to ask, his mind swimming with even more thoughts. If she was leaving her home to hunt alone at seventeen… She should be barely more than a kid the first time she killed someone.

Meanwhile in his Vault, at seventeen they were all worried with keeping track of their close relatives so they could avoid sleeping with them or whatever. Still important, but… The perspective and worries were just so different.

“Not much. I knew the routes and the desert and its animals. Ma wasn’t wrong on calling me a ‘child of the desert’. Anyway, I was a scrawny teen. Not great thing. Tall, all right, but I struggled to drag a radstag carcass towards home. Nowadays I can actually carry one on my shoulders for some good time.”

He tried not to think on how strong she actually was, because the sight of the radstags was still fresh in his mind and she talked as if carrying one was easy.

“So you didn’t just pop up from the sand all tall and muscled.” Norm let his eyes drag up and down Marigold, doing his best to ignore the heat he felt rising up his neck. With what he could see, a scrawny Marigold was something hard to imagine.

That made her laugh, not overtly high or long, but… Genuine.

“I wish, things would’ve been easier.” She finally said, voice quieter.

“How so?”

She looked at him, face almost blank, a hand at her nape.

“I was out alone when a Bounty Hunter got the jump on me. Really big guy, think Moose to more, metal armor, a ripper on his belt and hand on it. You haven’t seen them yet, but they are fucking nasty, chainsaw-like. Only really useful to cut something off or cause pain. The moment I saw that, I knew that he would kill me, no matter what, and would enjoy prolonging it.”

Norm remembered the scar on her shoulder. He didn’t like where that was going.

He still kept listening, attentive, unconsciously hugging his legs tighter.

“He started asking about this bounty of his. Promised that he wouldn’t kill me if I just helped him.” At this point Marigold rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Motherfucker didn’t even bother pretending the words were true, his hand never left the weapon. Then he showed me a drawing of the bounty, and it was Goose.”

Norm dry-swallowed. That explained the “avoid Bounty Hunters”.

“Why?”

“Because some motherfucker out there still thinks of her as property. I did my best to distract him before trying to get the ripper and use on him, I was too close to use my rifle except to butt him.” Marigold grimaced, scratching at the scar on her nose. “He was onto me and managed to break my nose before getting himself the ripper and coming at me with it. The fight was nasty and he almost cut my arm off before I managed to get the ripper and cut his head.”

“How did you… He almost cut your arm, I saw the scar, you should be bleeding heavily.”

“I managed to find a stimpak in his things and jabbed my arm, but then I blacked out. Woke up at home. Dad and Moose found me before the animals.” She raised the arm that had the scar, flexing her fingers. “Ma pulled some favors to get more stimpaks and some more heavy meds to help me not lose any movement.”

“That bad?”

“Yep.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Ehh, sometimes it pops and if it gets too cold, yeah, it can hurt some, but that’s it. Anyway. After that, Dad made everyone train hand to hand combat a lot more than before. That, plus some of his other training, helping carrying the carcass of big animals and so on, really made me put on the muscles.” Marigold shrugged.

Norm nodded at that, her words of “not underestimate yourself” making a lot more sense: Moose was big, the Bounty Hunter was bigger… And she had survived.

Still, he couldn’t help remember how the attack in the Vault had gone and he had frozen and then hidden. He wasn’t certain he would be able to fight the same way like her. Like Lucy had done when Monty showed his true colors.

He wasn’t a fighter. It was easy to sneak around and hack into terminals and discover things if there wasn’t a crazed raider breathing down his neck.

“Norm-boy.” He looked up at her, and Marigold had a knowing look.

“Yes?”

“What’re you thinking?”

He thought about lying, about deflecting… But after what she had just told, it seemed unfair.

“That I’m not a fighter.”

Marigold nodded, something in it sagely.

“Fair enough. What you think is my greatest asset?”

Norm immediately opened his mouth to say “your ability with your hunting rifle”… And stopped. She only had shot once since they had met. She was deviously good with it, sure, but it wasn’t what she had actually been doing most of these days.

Not even the night they had meet.

“Your knowledge, about the desert and animals in it and so on.”

She gave an extra trouble cheeky grin and flexed her arms – oh damn it, he was trying not to stare.

“Certain it’s not these babies?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s your knowledge about giant ants and so on that saved us today.” Norm managed, coughing to try and hide his embarrassment.

Marigold’s grin became an actual smile, that sweet, pretty one he had seen when she talked about Goose’s arrival, arms lowering.

“There you have it. Fighting doesn’t depend purely on strength or agility or whatever, it’s about everything and anything and how you use it. Catarina can’t punch to save her life without breaking her fingers, Goose is the worst shot ever, Moose walks around as if trying to kick a hole in the ground, Regina can’t take a fucking paper cut without crying, Mika needs his beauty sleep or he’s pretty much useless and a pain in the ass.”

“And your parents?”

“Are you crazy? If I start on them, Ma will pop up from the ground to pinch me again.”

“Ah, the old ‘speaking of the devil’.” Norm chuckled, shaking his head. “You conveniently left yourself out of the list.”

“Oh, I thought it was clear.”

“It isn’t, Marigold.”

“I take the longest path if it’s safer and I have no qualms about hiding, Norm-boy. Some call it cowardly, I call it cautious. The Wastes are dangerous enough for a hunter alone, no need for unnecessary risks.” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to fight like others to be a fighter. You’re out here, ain’t you? That’s fighter enough for me.”

Norm tried to remember if he had used “coward” when talking about the attack. He could only remember about the hiding part. His throat tightened, and he forced himself to take a sip of water. When he looked at Marigold again, she was smiling.

“Thanks.” She nodded, and he spied the hour on his Pip-Boy. They were at it longer than he thought. “Watch tonight?”

“Busted lock, so yes. Take the mattress, I’ll go first.” She got up and sat on the counter, legs crossed and hunting rifle over her thighs.

---------

It had taken some time for Norm to lie down, properly storing the plants he had collected. Marigold had remained tense the whole time, expecting more questions, but none came.

And then he was asleep.

Marigold relaxed and watched, a wry smile at how all curled up in the mattress he was, then made a mental note to get a blanket for him if they stumbled into a trader.

Then a sigh of relief left her. One that she had been holding the whole talk.

Thank God he hadn’t asked how exactly she had distracted the Bounty Hunter.

[silkcloud03]

✧. ┊THE DARKNESS ISN’T SO BAD,

WHEN YOU’RE SURROUNDED BY THE WARM LIGHT OF THE STARS.

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◦ warnings! ◦

→ second person for this person but reader is male or anyone that identifies as masculine\male!^^ so female aligned people dni please or you’ll be blocked. :]

→ you can imagine either trimax! vash or tristamp! vash in this. there might be some slight spoilers but it’s not really that much.

→ mentions of blood, descriptions of treating a bullet wound, talking about scars, and gun crossfire. very teeny, tiny bit of my trigun oc’s backstory and qualities for reader if you squint. also i’m horrible when it comes to describing fight scenes so i apologize in advance. overall, there’s fluff, comfort, and a very worried vash taking very good care of you! :]

→ NOT PROOFREAD.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

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-the ground shook as explosions, houses collapsing, people screaming trying to run away from the assailant’s causing such great destruction, and (not surprising) the tall blond dressed in a bright red coat is in the midst of this.

-you threw your head back in exasperation as you were cornered with vash trying to defuse the situation peacefully which you subtly rolled your eyes and grumbled to yourself to just wanted to crash in a cheap hotel room and rest after being chased out from town to town.

-“oh i’d kill to have a shower right now, can i just get this over with, blondie?” you cocked your hip whole turning to the man they call ‘the humanoid typhoon’.

-“can yo please not do that?” vash gave you a pointed look while trying to calm these greedy, money hungry men that want the money, you pouted in response.

-at this point you gotta swallow your urge to just finish these guys off yourself. everything was slowly simmering down until someone just impatiently tried to attempt to take out vash before other men started to berate the man and now everyone is brawling calling first dibs on taking out the man in the bright red coat.

-vash laughed sheepishly while you looked at him deadpanned at the switch of events. this man was either a magnet for disaster or just a lucky duck when it comes these situations — there’s no in-between you concluded after traveling with vash for a good while now.

-taking the chance to sneak past the men that were just fighting in the middle of the path not until the blond just sneezed very loudly from all of the dirt that was being picked up making you and the men brawling freeze and look towards , catching the attention of the group fighting between each other.

-“HEY! DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE!”

-you flicked his forehead. “never a dull moment with you, pretty boy.”

-“owww.” he whined in response and rubbed a hand on the stinging pain before he was cut off by the rain of bullets coming your direction as he shrieked and dodged them, starting to make a run for it in one direction while you ducked behind an alley as bullets were flying everywhere, taking cover while you reloaded your gun only realizing that it was your last round of bullets left after using most of your ammo dealing with the attack from the town before arriving to this one.

-now you’re just annoyed.

-you hit the back of your head against the barrels you were hiding in while cursing under your breath, shielding your face while bullets still hit the concrete wall, scattering dust and debris above you.

-“you can’t hide there forever, [C/N]!” a man yelled.

- “no need to be so hostile with me, boys. how about we try and work this out?” you yelled back in fake sweetness, slowly peaking from the side of the chipped wood, quickly dodging the bullet that flew towards you. you cringed at the name they gave on your bounty now that your involved with vash the stampede. you honestly didn’t really expect to have after laying as low as you could with the underground work that you used to do but you just shook your head to get back to the current predicament you are in right now.

-seeing that there was a few men hiding behind a car, guns drawn towards where you were from what you could see. you strapped your gun back into its holster before you pulled out your dual blades that were hidden in your coat.

-a grenade landed next to you, you quickly jumped through the window next to you as you took cover from the blast that shook the entire metal skeleton foundation as you used the smoke to conceal yourself as you sneaked around the car and used your blades to slice specific points on their body. it wont be lethal but enough so that they’ll stop persisting you. vash doesn’t really approve your way of taking people out but it’s better than killing them off.

-they cried out at the sudden pain, immediately dropping their weapons, you took the chance to make a run for it. your coat whipped behind you, hopping and weaving through the debris and damaged cars along the way, trying to search for the blond in a bright red coat around all of the chaos going around.

-“fellas!” he chuckled nervously with a closed-eyed smile, his hands up even removing his finger from the trigger off his gun that’s almost the size of his forearm. “there’s no reason to do all this just to get to me!”

-you spotted him with his back facing you as he tried to talk some sense with the men that pointed their guns at him while he had his own drawn. although you could not hear what they were talking with all of the noises going around. you aimed one of your daggers that was hiding in your boot to the man sneaking up towards vash while he wasn’t looking.

-you grin in satisfaction while the blade successfully hit the hand of a scrawny looking man that was gonna pull the trigger.

-he yelped from the sudden pain, the weapon in his hand falling to the ground and his attention now turned towards you who shouted orders to shoot at you to pay back what you just did. vash went around the men and used the back of his gun to hit the back of one’s head and then used his other arm to flip over another man, taking them down with ease.

-“we have to get out of here!” the blond suddenly ran towards you, grabbing your arm to drag you to along. you cursed at how fast he was going with those long legs of his while following his lead from dodging and weaving through alleys.

-“we got to split up, vash!” the men were still on your tail even you tried to shake them off. you shouted over the noise of bullets flying past you, “they keep coming in waves, we can’t shake them if we stick together!”

-vash glanced back, giving you a nod and a reassuring squeeze on the hand he was holding. although you couldn’t see his eyes behind those glasses of his but you knew that he was worried with those big cerulean eyes of his that reminded you of the clear sky.

-“be safe,” he says reluctantly before letting you go. “i’ll come and find you after this clears.”

-“you better, pretty boy.” you winked before jumping, using a metal bar to hoist yourself up and jump swiftly on the rooftop.

-“don’t let either of them get away!” a man shouted noticing you jumping from rooftop to rooftop, shooting rounds now drawing their attention towards you as you ran across the rooftops and different platforms.

-you noticed the men got bold enough to chase you down but that just made you smirk since this was your specialty. you cut around a corner swiftly which made the two guys that were hot on your tail stumble into each other and fall from the collision. grabbing a sturdy pole, using your momentum to go around and shove the three skinny looking guys off the ledge which wasn’t that far down so they’ll live.

-you jumped back when a guy swung at you with a knife, you ducked low and sweeper the man’s leg to get him to lose balance, using your strong arms to pick him up and throw him to the incoming men, making them tumble down like dominos. you bit back the chuckle that was bubbling in your chest at these guys laid out around you groaning and moaning from being knocked down while you didn’t use your blades made them surrender by either slumping or scrambling away in fear.

-you sheathed your blades back into their place, grabbing your gun from its holster and put the last round of bullets in. you stepped behind a pillar as a bug man with a advanced looking machine gun fired at you. your eyebrows furrowed in thought while checking over your gun. “now that’s something you don’t easily get at the shop.”

-you shook your head as the grip on your gun tightens slightly, glancing over your surroundings only to realize that you’re cornered. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, clicking the safety of your gun and blowing the messy strands of hair away from your eyes. “gotta make them count.”

-you weren’t as precise as vash, you only use your gun unless absolutely necessary but you were still familiar pretty skilled with it. swiftly taking aim and taking the first shot, the shot landed at the guys ground next to his feet, successfully making him stumble clumsily. you took the chance to make a run towards the other side of the platform you were currently in while taking the second shot to the machine gun, knocking it from his grip but it just spun out of control and bullets were flying in all kinds of directions before it overheated and exploded.

-“shit!” you were alarmed by the chaos that was happening but before you could react, you were sent flying and knocked off the platform you were on. the air was knocked out of your lungs as you landed in a pile of scraps of wood and metal. stars danced around your vision, searing pain suddenly shot through your side making you gasp for air while bringing a shaky arm to clutch it as you groaned weakly, trying to push yourself upright.

-“[Y/N]!” you almost shrieked by the touch of hands grabbing your forearms and pulling you up from the pile of scraps you were buried in. “woah, woah, hey! easy there it’s just me vash!”

-you looked up to see the tall blond in front of you, bright blue eyes filled with worry after he saw you the explosion sending you flying and ran towards where you landed, holding you while he scanned you over. a bit dazed from the impact you nodded when he asked if you are alright and holding you steady when you wobbled a bit.

-“sorry about this.” he says, grabbing your gun that was on the floor and picked you up. before you could protest, you were already hoisted over his shoulder, prosthetic arm holding your waist tightly as he started to run towards a direction.

-“hey, put me down!” your gloved hands gripped the back of his coat tightly to not slip off, the adrenaline making you forget the blow you took to your side from the fall. “i have two working legs y’know!”

-“after a fall like that, i’m not putting you down.” your words fell on deaf ears as he shouted over his shoulder, sending a apologetic grin your way. “i found a motel where we can lay low, so just hold on tight until we get there!”

-you slumped in his hold, giving up on trying to make him put you down.

-well at least you get to enjoy the view of his back while he took you to the motel.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙

-eventually everything died down as the town went back to normal. the sun was now setting, beautiful hues of orange gently brushed across the sands in a halo. the sand move in small ripples as wind picked them up, taking the small grands to a waltz across the horizon and golden sky.

-turning the key, you unlocked the door of the room you’re staying at from the motel you’re staying in for the time being. pushing the door open with a stumble as you tried not to crumble into the wood floors from the searing pain that’s going through your body from the wound you received, adrenaline now dissipated. you threw your bag on the bed and immediately regretted it when the soreness on your back reminded you the pain on your side.

-vash booked two separate rooms dispute your protests in spending too many double dollars on separate rooms but he only chuckled and said to take it as a small apology for the mess from being chased out from towns back to back. he grabbed your hand and placed the room key on your palm before nudging you to start walking to your room for the next few nights crossing your fingers that you stock up on supplies before getting chased out again.

-kicking the door closed, you noticed that there was a full body mirror placed at the corner of the room next to the window. you walked up to the mirror as you took in your disheveled appearance, there was dirt and soot littered all around your attire and face, some places on your clothing was either scratched or torn (you made a mental note if you had some spare needles and threat to patch your clothes up).

-you were reminded yet again from the wound you got as it ached painfully making you hiss quietly. you slowly peeled off your jacket, letting it fall on the ground then unbuckling your holster, and placing your blades on the table next to the on the nightstand next to the bed.

-you noticed how your shirt clinging into the side where the wound is making you grimace at the dark path of what you assumed to be blood as you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pull it up to reveal a nasty gash on your rib age to the small of your back, there was also some bruising starting to form around the wound.

-your mouth fell open at the sight, you were surprised that you didn’t lose a lot of blood since it wasn’t that deep but it will leave a scar which you didn’t care since it was just another one added to the many scars littered around your body from all of the torture and experiments you went through in the past.

-you brushed off the memories, pulling the shirt off, you grabbed your bag that was on the bed and placed it in front of the mirror as you sat down on the stool you dragged in front of the mirror while pulling out your personal supply of first aid after washing your hands to put stitches.

-you cleaned the wound with a small washcloth that you found in the bathroom drawers, gritting your teeth when you disinfected it as it stung like hell. your hand shook slightly from the pain but you pushed through, starting to loop the first stitch into the wound, using the mirror to look where to place the next stitch.

-you were in full concentration stitching until the door of your room suddenly opened and came in vash without his signature coat and what it looked like he was wearing a loose long sleeve and pair of sweatpants that hugged his attire comfortably compared to his usual attire with a paper bag in his hands, glasses now pushing back the messy strands of blond hair at the top of his head, seeming to have already cleaned up and was already ready to crash for the night. “i want out and got some food! i was wondering if you were hungry—“

-he stopped mid sentence when his eyes took in the sight of you shirtless and and frozen from mid stitch. his ears started to burn from the attractive sight of you shirtless but immediately looked away in embarrassment from walking in without knocking.

-“has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to barge in someone’s room?” you tried to grab your jacket to cover yourself but groan lightly when your wound strained from the sudden movement, you silently cursed at yourself for not locking the damn door.

-“be careful or you’ll open the wound again.” gentle hands wrapped around your own to halt you from any harsh movements, taking the needle from your hand and placing his free hand on the space between your shoulder blades. “here, let me help you.”

-you were about to yell at him to get out but the unreadable expression that vash is making stopped you from saying anything and let him assist you. you sighed and muttered a silent ‘fine.’

-you adjusted your position on the chair as vash knelt down so that he’s eye level in front of your wound, he placed the bag on nightstand as he started working where you left off, steady hands worked patching you up.

-you didn’t dare say anything, uneasy if you said anything the blond would start scolding you but there was an occasion winces when the needle went through a particular sore spot.

-the silence didn’t last that long, vash spoke up. “was this when you fell into the pile of broken parts?”

-you nodded silently, biting your lip when vash tugged the stitch a little too hard.

-“were you going tell me?” he locked eyes with you while he tied off the last stitch, cutting off the extra suture, patting your leg to let you know he was finished.

-“i was too delirious from being the fall to notice it after all the chaos that was going around.” you looked away. you didn’t know why but seeing vash’s piercing gaze boring into you like he’s reading through you made you look away before quietly adding. “and i’m pretty used to it.”

-you let out a shaky sigh when vash’s gloved fingers lightly traced over the scar on your shoulder, he retracted his hand at the reaction but noted you didn’t shy away from him so his fingered hovered over your skin, making you shiver slightly from the touch as he continued to run your fingers ghost over the other scars that littered around your back and arms.

-“you shouldn’t be feeling that way.” his voice was so soft that it caught you off guard, normally used to his cheery and loud tone. you turned your head towards him, seeing that he’s now quite close to you as he thumbed over the various dips and lines across your skin, sky blue eyes looking into yours with such softness. “you don’t deserve the amount of pain that you must’ve went through.”

-“i would be saying the same to you.” you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat, addams apple bobbing nervously, bringing a hand up to lay on top of the blonds larger one that was resting on your shoulder, lowering it on your lap so that you can turn to face him. “you are always carrying the world in your shoulders every single day. you keep everyone in arms length whenever we depart as if like you will never get to see them again.”

-“i don’t deserve to feel happy.” vash was aware that you had a very difficult past. he never ride to pry into it, he sometimes wondered what you went through but you were very guarded whenever someone tried to ask you so he never even tried to even though you two always enjoyed the deep conversations you shared around the campfire. a melancholic smile was etched onto his lips as he was silently enjoyed the feeling of your fingers playing with his on your lap. “but i don’t enjoy watching you get hurt without thinking that i could’ve done something to stop it.”

-you frowned at his words, your free hand cupped his cheek to turn to look at you when he tried to look away. “but you do deserve to feel emotions even if you feel like you drive everyone away with that title that those idiots decide to call you without even trying to get to know the real you.”

-vash closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch. it wasn’t the first time that the two of you shared these tender and intimate moments; ending up in very awkward positions while hiding in alleys from the people chasing you down, having your arms wrapped around each other when situations really took a toll on you, intertwining pinkies to try not to lose each other in a dense crowd, sharing cramped beds (both too stubborn to let either one to sleep on the old floor boards) from the cheapest hotels so that you two won’t freeze to death most nights out in the desert since it was what you were able to get with the double dollars that you two only had at the time, even if it meant you weren’t able to eat anything. both of you grew accustomed and comforted by each others presence.

-you smiled to yourself at how he nuzzled into your touch like the stray cats that come up to you demanding attention. your heart thumped wildly in your rib cage as anything this man does never fails to surprise you.

-letting yourself appreciate vash’s relaxed expression while he enjoyed your touch; his long lashes that gently rest on his cheekbones, you thumb the mole that is prominent under his left eye gently which made the blond melt even further into your hand, your eyes flickered down to his soft, plumed lips. you didn’t realize that you slowly begun to lean in closer before you quickly stopped yourself, opting to rest your chin on top of his head, careful with his glasses while bringing your other hand from the blonds hold as you patted his forearm to catch his attention.

-“hey, um.” you leaned back, your body screamed at you to clean up so you let out a awkward chuckle as you spoke up, “can you help me walk to the bathroom? i’d like to clean up before wrapping the bandages around the wound.”

-“got it!” vash immediately stood up straight after breaking from his daze, laying his prosthetic hand at the small of your back to push you up and off from the stool, stabilizing you when your legs almost buckled from the soreness that wracked through your thighs from running so much.

-you noticed that he turned around commencing to take his leave, you grabbed his wrist to stop him, you looked down not meeting his confused gaze, the ground looking much more interesting than making eye contact to the tall man in front of you. you quietly struggled to form the words you wanted to say, taking a sharp inhale through your nose when nothing wanted to come out.

-“do…you want me to stay?” as if he read your mind, you nodded before letting go of his wrist and placing the same hand against the doorframe of the bathroom to not lose balance.

-“i…just don’t want to be alone right now if that’s okay with you?” there was a small haze in your eyes as if you were having flashbacks from a certain moment in your life. vash knew that feeling all too well.

-“if that’s what you wish.” vash smiled at you even though you didn’t see it as you were too embarrassed to use your own voice, he sat at the edge of the bed ushering you off to take a shower.

-you thanked him after grabbing some clothes and shutting the door behind you. you leaned back against the door, hiding your face in your hands when you felt warmth creeping up your face.

-this man is going to be the death of you.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙

-you walked out of the bathroom with a relieved sigh, placing the towel that you used to dry your hair around your shoulders, now feeling much more comfortable with in your sleepwear instead of the tight clothing you use for traveling.

-“hey,” vash greeted you with a small smile before gesturing to the gauze he had on his hand and patting the space next to him. “feeling better now?”

-“yeah, it was very nice.” you nodded and sat down next to him, returning the smile while you lightly patted you damp hair from excess water. “kind of missed it not gonna lie after traveling for so long.”

-vash chuckled before gesturing to the gauze that was in his hand. you quickly understood what he was implying, lifting your shirt just enough for him to have easier access so that he can start wrapping it around your torso. his fingers were a bit cold compared to your warm skin, it was a little ticklish whenever he accidentally brushed your side.

-“i’m going to tie the ends together,” he warned, halting his movements to look up at you with an apologetic look. “its going to hurt a bit so let me know if it’s too much. i apologize in advance.”

-you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath and giving him a nod. he nodded back before pulling the ends, feeling the cloth tighten around the wound made you hiss from the sudden pressure as you tried to breath in and out but struggled, the pain burning your side.

-“sorry.” he grimaces at your reaction as he knows how painful some wounds can be. “got to keep it tight so it won’t risk for it to bleed out.”

-“it’s okay, it’s nothing new.” you let out a small laugh, cringing when the bandages restricted your breathing a bit.

-now it was vash’s turn to frown at your words, his fingers traced the edges of the bandages while the other fidgeted with the fabric of his shirt nervously.

-you gently picked up the sunglasses that was resting on top of his head and placed them on the nightstand.

-“what are you doing?” vash looked at you curiously on what you were doing, his hands hovered over your form as you slightly struggled moving around and getting comfortable on the bed.

-you didn’t reply to him, you patted at the spot next to you, offering him a small smile.

-vash suddenly felt shy from your gesture. sure, this wasn’t the first time that the two of you shared a room or shared beds but this time felt…different and he can’t put his finger on it.

-he didn’t realize he hasn’t moved for a good minute before you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards you. he let out a small ‘oomph’ when he landed into your warm chest.

-his body froze at the sudden movement before slowly melting into your embrace once you started to run your fingers through his messy tresses. a small sigh of satisfaction left through his nose as he buried his face into your pectorials, letting himself relax under your comforting touch.

-“comfy down there?” you chuckled.

-“you’re so warm.” vash looked up towards you with a small grin growing on his handsome face while nodding. “makes me want to pass out immediately after the craziness from the days prior.”

-you tilted your head with a lopsided grin while your nails gently scratch his scalp soothingly making the tall blond lean into your hand some more.

-‘cute.‘ you thought.

-“why thank you. only i can pull off this cuteness y’know.”

-now it was your turn to get flustered.

-“you’re such a little shit.” you tried to look away, trying to hide the furious blood rush that’s creeping up your neck with the back of your bandaged hand.

-“don’t hide your handsome face from me.” vash whispers, gently grabbed your wrist and pulled it towards him while resting his cheek into your open palm. “i’d like to look at you for as long as you let me.”

-you were pretty sure that your face was red by how much its burning.

-but your mind wants to ask the question you’ve been thinking for a while. you ran your thumb across his surprisingly smooth skin. you cleared your throat lightly to catch his attention. “what are we vash?”

-“what are we?” the blond echoes tilting his head at the question

-“like…are we friends or are we more than friends?” you bit your lip anxiously while waiting for him to answer as he mulled over the question.

-it was quite obvious that the two were friends but you felt like it was something more considering how much both of you flirted back and forth and were more touchy with each other compared to meryl, milly, and nicholas. the others always gave you either knowing looks or smiles whenever the blond would gush about how the two of you went through so much together traveling before you met the insurance girls then nicholes.

-you were honestly unsure since vash isn’t really a person that tends to open up on what goes through his head beside the wall of his default façade that you were able to lower and yet you were still in the dark when it came to some feelings that he likes to guard very well.

-“i apologize.” you lowered your head after some time in silence. “it was a stupid question, i shouldn’t have asked without thinking and ruined the moment—“

-your eyes widened when suddenly vash placed one of his fingers to lift your face and placed his lips on yours.

-you immediately kissed him back as you tangled your fingers into his hair to pull him even closer. the blond understood the hint and climbed on top of you. his toned thighs straddling your hips, one of his hands rested on your upper torso (being mindful of the wound) and the other was on the back of your neck, gently playing with the ends of our hair.

-“i love you. i always have since the day that i met you.” the blond murmurs between desperate kisses that just took your breathe away. the grip of his fingers in your hair tightened making you groan in return while vash’s kisses swallowed all of the noises that the both of you made as you tried to pull his lean body even closer to yours. “i can’t even believe that i finally get to kiss you right now.”

-a small sigh escaped from you, slowly relaxing and enjoying the moment while melting in his arms. so much warmth bloomed in your chest at the thought of vash finally being open with you with the thought of tall blond reciprocating your feelings which made you want to jump to the moon.

-your hand that was still tangled in his hair, gently tugged some strands which made him whine at the sensation, making you smile into the kiss at he reaction as the kiss slowly escalated which you had to pull away to get some air.

-vash rested his forehead on yours while the two of you panted and recovered your breathing. he placed a small peck on the corner of you mouth while slowly lowering himself on top of you to rest on you and propping his chin over his crossed arms on your chest with a playful smile on his lips as he looked at you with so much adoration. “does that answer your question?”

-“crystal clear, pretty boy.” you fixed the messy strands of his hair with a smile while leaning in to give him another small kiss on the beauty mark under his eye. “i love you too.”

-he giggled at the action and nuzzled his face into your neck once more like before letting out a small yawn while he tiredly traced small shapes on your arm before placing a small kiss in your neck before slowly dozed off to the feeling of you running your fingers through his messy blond strands.

-you are very well aware that every day on traveling and running away from greedy bounty hunters that want vash dead for his bounty is risky as it is but you are wishing that at the end of the day you get to have him in your arms like this to shield him from the pain and pressure he carries every day.

-if there’s one thing that’s very clear in your mind while you held vash in your arms: you will love this man until your last breath.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙

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a/n: AAJAHSDKAFG I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS AND HAD TO REWRITE IT AGAIN😭 but FINALLY after finishing finals I’m now able to start writing and drawing again.😩

-also! i’m currently taking requests so feel free to send me little scenarios to write since my brain is drained from all of the art projects of this semester LMAO. -i can write trigun, honkai star rail and genshin impact at the moment since i am obsessed with them at the moment askjfhkja.

-i hope you enjoy this oneshot! -i love vash so much 🫶 he deserves all of the kisses and hugs i’d love to give him. i wanna spoil him so bad :’))))

-also- would y’all be interested if i start to post my art here???👀 i’m a little hesitant since i’m afraid that my art can be stolen :-: but my friends are encouraging me to post them so i’m thinking about it^^^

-anywhooooo- i hope y’all are enjoying your day and i’ll see y’all on the next post. <33333

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[gsstories]

First Kunoichi: Origins

Alright, it is 5 am where I am, I cannot sleep and seeing my moot @fernnshxj draw Joan so beautifully with their oc Miori gave me inspiration to tell Joan’s origins, let’s begin! (Btw, I took some liberties and added some stuff of another fandom cause it was pretty interesting-)

Okay, starting off, Joan is not originally from Japan. She is actually from Sweden!

As I stated before, she was the middle of three sisters and they all practiced witchcraft, which wasn’t uncommon in Sweden (and is still practiced nowadays, just not as much I think) All three specialized in in different magical aspects: the eldest, spirits and souls; the middle, magical artifacts and weapons; and the youngest, potions and spells. The eldest was the brains of the group, the leader, the one to come up with a plan against enemies, the mastermind basically. The youngest was the heart, the healer, the one who would help anyone out if they needed it, the sweetest of the three. And lastly Joan, the middle child, she was the body of the trio, the tank, the shield, the most physically strongest one compared to her sisters. They all really loved each other despite their differences in personalities.

They all created the Kunoichi mask and Codex so that each of them could use each other’s abilities without any hindrances and to document every creature they came across. Unfortunately, not soon after creating them, they had been ambushed by those who called themselves ‘The Bishops of the Apocalypse’. War, Pestilence, Famine, Chaos, Death, they all attacked the sisters, who had little to no weapons to defend themselves at the moment aside from the mask. The battle was brutal and long but the sisters won… well, Joan won. The youngest died at the hands of Chaos after taking out Pestilence and Famine, the scene making Joan cry out to her and attack Chaos, who was the one responsible in leaving that nasty scar on her face. After dealing with it, she saw her eldest sister fighting War and then… gods, she wishes she didn’t see. She saw how her sister summoned a weapon, a large sword that soon penetrated through her own heart and War’s, ichor and blood oozing from their wounds. Horrified, now it was Joan against Death, the most dangerous and sadistic of the Bishops. Joan knew she couldn’t win against them like that… so she put on the Kunoichi mask. Without holding back, she slashed, stabbed and ripped Death apart, tears of rage in her eyes after the demise of her sisters. Ichor stained her sharp heels once Death has fallen, a wide grin on their face before inevitably dying. Panting, Joan- First Kunoichi- fell to her knees and started crying, screaming her heart out. Days passed, and she made graves for her dearest sisters, grieving them for weeks, months even after taking sail across the land, scattering the Bishops’ crowns so they could never be found again.

From three to two then to one in less than a second. How awful is that, to lose the only family you have to the worst villains you have ever faced? Truly, this was the tragic beginning for the First Kunoichi.

Before meeting the Ninja, Funo (First Kunoichi) took it upon herself to become a traveling warrior, taking out any beast she came across that she deemed a threat. She never took off her mask, for it was the only thing that brought her comfort, the last thing made by her and her sisters. She was afraid to put her guard down so she became cold, snappy and paranoid at everything and everyone. Except the children. Never the children…

She often reminisced at the idea of a family. Her family. Her sisters had wanted to find love, to have children of their own, they spoke quite a bit about it. Joan thought, that was not the life for her. She never understood love or saw the greatness of having a child but still, she had supported her sisters til the very end. Now she does her best to not scare any of the children, for they remind her of the future her sisters had wanted but would never get.

Funo traveled far and wide, slaying beasts of old across the lands. She never gave much thought to it until she came across a beast… one who was just a child. She was conflicted, she had sworn to kill any beast she encountered but also promised to never harm a child. The child beast was already dying, she realized, and they asked one thing: to help her see the ‘shower of lights’. Funo was… confused but regardless helped the child. Getting to a cliff with a nice view in the middle of the night, she put the child beast there, who sat next to her as the show started. A meteor shower. The child was in total awe at the sight as Funo stared. This child was a beast and yet it was so innocent… Just how many did she slay that were truly innocent? Just how many did she brought to their demise when they only wanted to live a peaceful life?

Her train of thought was interrupted when the child hugged her, sobbing softly before saying:

“Thank you…”

The child passed away in her arms…

…

Since that day, Funo did more traveling than slaying. Meeting people from other cultures while fighting the occasional bandit and such. She learned a lot and so she wrote everything in the Codex, for some of that information came in handy at times. When traveling, she met the one who became her new nemesis: the Sorceress.

For a long time, these two were at each other’s throats, looking to tear each other apart until that one fateful day they met their respective soulmates. The Sorceress met the Sorcerer, who brought chaos and destruction as she did. Frankly, now more of a pain in the ass for Funo but she had to deal with them. That is when she met him. The First Ninja. A skilled, intelligent yet kind of stubborn man who banished the Sorceress to the Realm of Shadows. Their actual first meeting was her having a knife to his throat because he got a tad bit too close to her. Reflexes by now.

The two didn’t exactly like each other, at all! They argued, fought, and treated each other like a nuisance than an actual danger. It took a while but Finja saw her around and she was never, and I mean NEVER without her mask and so he asked about it once. Funo stated “The last time I let my guard down, those I love died and I couldn’t do anything. I’m not letting it happen again.” She was afraid that if anyone she got close to got hurt, she would have failed her mission. She didn’t want that, she wanted them safe. So far though, she never stayed long enough to make meaningful bonds with people so there was really no one close to protect. Aside from Finja but does he really count? (Yes girl)

It took quite a few months, but Finja was able to break the walls Funo had built over the years to protect herself. The first time she took off her mask, she felt very vulnerable and was always on edge, even around Finja- Or, well, Yoshi without the mask (Yes, we called him Yoshi lol-). She still had some trust issues, she slept with a knife. Over time though, she started trusting Yoshi, little by little, and eventually she started feeling SOMETHING towards him. She was confused when her heart started racing when she saw him or how her face turned red when she saw him train.

Like “Dammit heart, what is your deal?!” kind of thing.

Yoshi was experiencing a similar situation but he was probably dealing with it in a more calm fashion. The two sparred together often, either with weapons, using magic or hand to hand combat. In less battle centered settings, they were pretty calm towards each other now, friendly even.

You see what I am going for, they fell in love! It was Yoshi who confessed his love for Joan first and she, well, she blue screened at that before becoming a mess of stutters and trying to come up with words and when they didn’t come out, she punched a wall. Her hand had to be healed.

At the beginning of the relationship, it was pretty much the same as before the relationship. The two… did not know how a couple was supposed to act. PDA was not a big yes for them, they liked to keep that private, a bit of hand holding at times but other than that, nothing more. Yoshi ended up learning more from Joan once a bit of time passed. She told him about her origins, her sisters, their goal, the Bishops… everything. She broke down as she told Yoshi, who brought her into his arms and cried in his chest. This was the most vulnerable Joan has been in years. She cried so hard, she got a headache. Her started calling her ‘Moonflower’ when once stating she liked them and it just stuck.

After a near death experience with one of the Sorcerer’s monsters, Finja did the one thing Funo thought would never happen: he proposed to her. He said “If I am to leave this world soon, I wish it happens knowing I had someone worth it all in the end.” Funo was a blushing mess as she chuckled and said “You’re a fool…”. She accepted and so the term of endearment ‘my fool’ became a thing.

…

After the Sorcerer’s defeat, Joan started feeling ill. She couldn’t fight for as long as she used to, her head hurt, her body burned, just everything started going wrong. Yoshi wanted to do something to help her out but Joan didn’t want him to leave. Every day, she kept getting worse and worse and Yoshi feared for the worst. Joan had accepted it and only wished for Yoshi to hold her when she took her last breath. He did as she wished. He cried and cried as he felt her heart beat no more.

Her grave was made near their home once upon a time, Yoshi visiting it often even after learning The Ultimate Lesson. He doesn’t remember how he met this woman but he knew she meant a lot to him. His dear, his beloved, the ying to his yang…

And most importantly, his Moonflower…

[jacksdinonuggets]

Hell's Little program Chapter 3

Thank you to @onceuponahotel for letting me use their Oc

After Vaggie put all the little ones to sleep, she sat in the rocking chair and sighed. She was worried about Blake. All charlie had said was that he had a panic attack. What would’ve caused it? Vaggie knows what it’s like to deal with them, being a caregiver to Rhea, another traumatized little there.

About 15 minutes passed since she put them down for a nap, the door opened. She looked up and saw Hez, one of the nursery workers. He was another fallen angel so they got along pretty well. He was a flip so sometimes he would regress while trying to help the babies. It was fine though, Vaggie didn’t mind taking care of him as well. She took care of him most of the time with Rhea. He was basically her big brother.

Hez walked in and closed the door slowly. He was carrying a big box in his hands. Charlie said that they were running out of diapers and pull ups and needed a refill soon. So he was on errand duty. Once he finished stocking up the changing/bathroom, he changed his pull-up (incontinent) and walked out again into the nursery.

“Hey, Hez? Can I ask you something?” Vaggie whispered to him.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” 

“A little had a panic attack today. We don’t know why but it’ll be beneficial if we did so we can stop it from happening again. Since you’re familiar with panic attacks, do you mind talking with him? Or get him to open up?” She asked. He often had them and she usually was the one to help him calm down. However, he was even better at helping Rhea calm down, if they are both little.

“Sure, I can do that, who was it?” He asked, wanting to know which one had it. He knew Rhea wanted to play with the older kids and was worried that it was her who had it.

“A new little. His name is Blake, 16 years old, trans male. From what we know, he had abusive parents and regresses to cope with that,” Vaggie gave a brief overview about him. Hez was a bit relieved it wasn’t his baby sister.

“Poor kid, so young too. Hellborn?” Vaggie nodded

They waited a bit for the babies to wake up. Hez looked over Blakes crib. He noticed a few scars along his arms and frowned. He studied him a bit more and saw a few tears leak out of his shut eyes. Most likely he was having a nightmare. Hex didn’t want to wake him up, as he heard it wasn’t good to wake up someone having a nightmare/terror.

After a few more minutes had passed, they woke up. Blake was the last one to wake though. While Vaggie was in the bathroom, changing the other littles, Hez decided he should try talking with him.

“Hey, baby, I’m Hez, I work with Vaggie. I got word that you had a panic attack earlier today, do you want to talk about it?” He asked, taking him out of his crib and setting him on his lap.

Blake hesitated, not saying anything. He just hugged his stuffy

“That’s a cute bear you have there, what’s their name?”

“Huggies…” Blake answered.

“That’s a cute name. Does he give good hugs?” Hez asked.

Blake nodded and hugged it tighter.

“I understand that it may be scary, but I’m not here to judge,” Hez ruffled his hair a bit.

Blake didn’t know why but he felt safe with him. Like he was there to help. He sounded really kind and caring.

“Omebody ma’e fun of me…” He mumbled, “nd my bwain got mean…” 

Hez looked at him with concern. It wasn’t normal for other littles to make fun of each other. 

“I’m sorry, Blakey, do you know who it was? I can talk with them?” Hez suggested.

“My fault. Was too annoying…” He curled in on himself. Hez combed through his hair with his fingers

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetie. Babies are just more high maintenance. It's not your fault though,” He promised. Blake felt a bit better and hugged Hez.

As the last little came out of the bathroom, Hez picked Blake up and carried him in, not wanting him to miss getting changed. It would be bad to leave him in a wet diaper all day. Once he was finished, he carried him back to the floor where they were going to do crafts. They would be making spaceships out of toilet paper rolls and construction paper. Blake was really excited for it.

Blake was having a blast while doing arts and crafts. He loved making things, no matter how young or old he was feeling. He even got a cool sticker when he finished. He had completely forgotten about the mean words the person had said to him.

[luminlunii]

This isn't a request, but what inspired your Ocs into existence? Mine was that I wanted more people in Rocky's corner! So, I gave him a mom friend named Sadie Churchill or also known as Lucille Grace. She's known as the sweet motherly and unsuspected cleaning lady at the little Daisy Cafe/Lackadaisy, the unknown Siren Killer to the law and the crazy witch from a coven, killing all the people that were involved in the murder of her husband and baby to her victims. Along side an angry spirit known as a Wraith with a common enemy as her. Then, there's also the significant other to Rocky! Clarity Sable, Sedgewick's niece. Who is also a part of the same coven as Sadie. No, Sedgewick doesn't know about this. All he knows is that his niece was sent to live with him at 13 for reasons and she's 20 now.

That's so cool! I'll be explaining below. It's very long, whoops.

For me, it was mostly for fun? And then I got really into it. The girlfriends I mentioned before, Lavinia and Yvaine, are just my oc's as Lackadaisy characters. And then I kind of just had this thought of 'Rocky doesn't have any parental figures...Might as well make Lavinia and Yvaine his parents lmao'. I thought it was funny.

The twin's were really just an excuse to have more doctor characters. I have names for them now! They are of Japanese origin, Rin and Minoru, and because they moved to the U.S. at a young age they had to change them. Wren, was close enough to Rin, and Moreno, close enough to Minoru. They also had this little sister on her way, their mother was 3 months pregnant with her at the time. Originally before they moved her name was going to be Emiko, it then changed to Emily shortly after.

Wren was in training to become a nurse back in WW2 and when she came back home she was rather...prickly. She died due to being involved with a deal gone wrong with a gang and Moreno was left to take her place, quite literally. Since then Moreno had to study extensively about medical practices to really impersonate her. Grief was what motivated him. Atlas May found him and later employed him.

Then comes around my fifth character. He's Russian and officially named Anastasiy Baladin. He was originally going to be a buff lady. Not much going on with him except he was basically disowned by his family shortly after an incident. He has this really large scar that runs up and down his spine widening at the center of his back. Like the shape of a diamond. I was going to push him to be Rocky's love interest because I thought it would funny if Rocky fell for someone tall and intimidating lmaooo

I think I'm going for it anyway because I still think it would be funny.

[dapperbasil]

OC Kiss Week: Day 4

Manor de Sorrez. Spring, 1213.

Despite the consequences awaiting them, a terrible wrong has been righted in the eyes of Lady Thalia de Sorrez. Now the biggest question on her mind is how to deal with the familiar knight with a stranger's face.

Thalia/Tulio belongs to @mountainashfae! I've been super excited for this one all week, I hope you enjoy :3

At first, the Lord of the manor was confused. “What do you mean he hasn’t returned?” The question was posed to his servants when he was informed that his knight was nowhere to be found. He had been sent on a simple delivery hours prior, the ghoul should have returned long ago. “Clearly you simply did not check everywhere he could be. Check everywhere, the gardens, the Guard captain’s quarters, failure will not be tolerated. I need to speak with him.” As the hours passed and sunlight began to peek over the horizon, Tulio’s confusion turned to worry upon hearing from numerous sources that they never were seen returning to the estate and they were nowhere to be seen.

Nights passed, and there was no sign of the ghoul. His delivery had arrived that very same night, and the shop keep remembered seeing the knight but not where he had gone afterward. Every possible lead went to a dead end, and to say the Lord was distraught was an understatement, though he did not allow it to show. It was almost as if their knight had disappeared without a trace. There were those in the early nights who suggested that the ghoul could have run away, but the noble considered such words slander against their knight and themselves, which was dutifully punished. He knew better, something must have happened to their most devoted servant.

Only after the Lady’s sire insisted on her resting from the search after an entire month had passed did they begin to relent. There was no way that her knight had survived this long, especially without being fed by now. Antonio may have been correct but that did not stop her from holding out hope and praying for their safe return, even if she wasn’t sure what kind of merciful God would take their knight from them so suddenly. There never was an answer and eventually she simply had to move on with her unlife, with or without him.

It had been three years since the night her most trusted ghoul went missing. Thalia stared across the room at the figure knelt by the door, unease permeating the silence. It was so different to what she remembered of them. Short chestnut hair replaced with ash brown locks far down their back. The marks and scars that adorned their skin were no longer there, replaced by one notably recognizable scar down the center of their face. Their physique had even changed but Thalia could still recognize the knight despite the years having changed so much. The voice she had only heard cry and sob after the Elysium, it was the same as it always had been. Those eyes as well, beautiful brown eyes that once matched the knight’s hair.

“Come to us, childe. We wish to take a look at you.” Thalia straightened her back as she watched the figure walk forward with tender steps. The childe’s eyes did not leave the floor as they approached, only daring to glance upward towards the Lady once they stood before her. There was no doubt in Thalia’s mind and heart, her knight had finally been returned to her, clan Toreador be damned. She took her time examining them, taking in the differences, wondering what exactly had happened to her ghoul in those three years. Though she yearned for the answers, they were in no shape to answer. Her hands rested on their cheeks, rubbing away at the dried blood stained there from tears. “My knight… My dearest-” Thalia was cut off before she could truly address them, taking her by surprise.

The knight spoke for the first time since Elysium, a tremble in their voice. “Please, milady. Do not refer to me by that name I once held. If you are merciful, I will never hear that word cross your lips again.” Thalia gave a solemn nod, pulling the once proud knight into her arms and holding them close to her. A request from them was rare, and one so earnest she could not help but oblige.

“If that is all you ask of us, then we will never speak that name again.” Her fingers began trailing through their hair, shushing and soothing the former ghoul for as long as it took her to choke down her own emotions. She peppered kisses into their hair and tilted their head up once more to take a better look. The night had been a whirlwind for both of them, and Thalia had a feeling it would take both of them quite some time to adjust to what would be their new normal. That was alright with her, they had all of eternity for it, after all. “We thought we had lost you, mi corazon.” Thalia left one final kiss on the forehead of her knight before clearing her throat and pulling away from them. She stared down at them as they stepped back, bowing their head in reverence of their Lady. “Consider this an order, my knight. You are to stay with us, until final death. We will not accept anything less.”

[raphianna]

OC Infodump Tag, R.A., Dragonborn; ft. 5 Other OCs

@skyrim-forever I wasn’t tagged, but your questions intrigued me :] I hope you don’t mind me doing this. I also hope you and/or anyone else who reads this enjoys :]

What is your OC’s name? Why did you choose it? Were there any other names you considered?

How was your OC raised? What kind of background?

What values do they have? How were they instilled in them?

What does your OC look like? Have they had other designs? How has their look changed?

Does your OC have a family? What do they define as family?

Does your OC have a mentor or someone they look up to? Why do they look up to them?

What has been the most significant event in your OC’s life? How has this affected them?

Who does your OC care about? Is it reciprocal?

What are your OC’s hobbies? How do they relax?

What should we understand most about your OC?

This is pretty long, so it’s going under a Read More ^^’

Her name

‘R.A.’ Originally, it was the shortened version of my online name, ‘Raphianna’, but as I fleshed her out more, I gave her her own name, ‘Raelyn Ava’. I don’t usually put too much thought into names, I admit. I chose Raelyn Ava because it could still be an abbreviated version of R.A., but I genuinely love it now.

Her full name is Raelyn Ava Waterlily, and I chose the name Waterlily simply because it sounded pretty lol.

When she was younger, everyone called her Raelyn Ava, Raelyn, or Rae. But as of now, she’s shortened her name to R.A. and dropped her last name entirely, because she wanted as few ties to her childhood as possible.

How she was raised, background

She had a loving, albeit distant relationship with her parents.

Keyword: had.

They were killed in front of her when she was 9, when their village was attacked by a branch of Volkihar vampires. They’d tried to trade her for their own lives. She lived as a captive for 7 years afterwards, until she was 16, when she escaped. She wasn’t really ‘raised’ past the age of 9 per se, more so fought to survive.

Before, she lived a simple life, and was eager to learn archery, and was skilled in parkour. (I bring up parkour, cause my mama calls me a goat in the game since I can scale almost anything :P)

Her values

R.A. relies heavily on self-discipline. Those 7 years were hell, and she was never willing to talk about it after she escaped. There wasn’t anyone to talk to anyways. It made her emotional to think back on what she went through. Strangers didn’t need to worry about the weight of her wounds. And later on, her loved ones shouldn’t even have to imagine what she experienced. Her view of self discipline was a bit warped at first, but she learns how to understand it in a healthier way after she opens up to people.

She also has a tight grip on loyalty. When she learned that she could trust people, whether it be from the promise of money, deals, or genuine admiration, it was life changing. And when that loyalty started coming from real relationships more often, she was that much more determined to protect it. She has very negative feelings towards Mercer and Astrid because of this. (Though she believes Astrid deserved a second chance in the Void.)

Her looks & design

R.A. is a Wood Elf. She has shoulder length black hair, completely black eyes, and tan skin. She’s thin and 5’6”. She has a scar in the shape of a handprint across her mouth. (It’s the handprint from the warpaint option, but I made it into a scar.) There’s scarring across her throat also.

My first design for her was a Redguard, cause when I first started playing Skyrim, I literally just copied my mama as she played. (Redguard, heavy armour, two handed weapons.) My character had the same hair, but with silver eyes. She also still had the handprint across her mouth, but that was only because I thought it was cool at the time :P

I changed her to a Wood Elf when I learned that they were inspired by Native Americans. It was strange when I learned the races’ inspirations. I remember talking to my dad about it, and how I wanted to switch to a Wood Elf, since I’m also Native American, and he encouraged me to. Thus, the creation of R.A. really began.

But I still loved the silver eyes. I was bummed that wasn’t an option for the Wood Elves, so that’s why I chose the completely black option for her eyes. But R.A. did have silver eyes when she was younger, but they changed over the course of her life. Her hair also used to go down to her hips, but she cut it after she escaped.

Who’s her family

Right off the bat, yes, she has two adopted children, Lucia and Blaise.

But she also has two older siblings: a brother named Taon, who’s 35, and a sister named Erissa, who’s 31. Both Taon and Erissa left for Skyrim when their mother was pregnant with their sister; Taon was 16 and Erissa was 12. R.A. never knew either of them growing up, but her parents often talked about them.

Taon has green eyes, upper back length black hair in a high ponytail, and pale skin. Erissa has white hair that goes down to her mid back in a low ponytail, green eyes, and tan skin.

It took R.A. a long time to warm up to them, especially when she found out that they knew their mother was pregnant when they left.

By the time R.A. arrived in Skyrim, Taon lived in a cabin near the Eastmarch hot springs, and Erissa was Archmage of the College of Winterhold (canon who).

She does eventually get to know her siblings, and they become super close. Taon and Erissa feel horrible for essentially leaving R.A. behind, and they do their best to make up lost time with her.

They’re a really great aunt and uncle to R.A.’s kids.

R.A. gets Taon initiated into the Thieves Guild, and he and Erissa are among the few people who know that R.A., Karliah, and Brynjolf are Nightingales.

The Waterlily siblings also have two cousins, however.

Their names are Elision and Kyn Nightshade. Elision is 29 and Kyn is 28. (Pronounce Kyn like the beginning of Kynareth.)

Elision is a priest of Kynareth in Whiterun, and Kyn is a bard in Solitude. They learn about their cousins when Elision sees R.A. heal the Gildergreen with sap from its parent tree, and he sends a letter to Kyn.

Elision has black hair up in a ponytail much like Taon’s, golden eyes, and tan skin. Kyn has long black hair cascading down her upper back, purple eyes, and tan skin.

The Waterlilies are wary when meeting the Nightshades, since they never thought twice about their parents or any family they might’ve had.

As far as they’re concerned, their parents are dead to them.

But they become friends with Elision and Kyn, and the two cousins are just as angry at the Waterlily’s parents when they hear about what happened.

R.A. is the baby of all of them at 19.

However, blood doesn’t matter to R.A.. If she decides you’re family, you’re family.

She’s close friends with a Khajiit named Ji’zaka. He’s 26 years old, and they met as captives of Volkihar when R.A. was 10 and Ji’zaka was 17. Ji’zaka escaped with R.A. at the age of 23 when she was 16. They unfortunately were separated shortly after they escaped, and lost contact for 3 years.

Ji’zaka doesn’t know what happened for 2 out of those 3 years, but he found himself in Skyrim during the third year. Not welcome in any of the cities, and not really fitting in with any of the Khajiit caravans, he was initiated into the Dark Brotherhood and was an assassin for them when he reunited with R.A..

When she was named Listener, he was the only one besides Cicero who fully supported R.A.’s new role.

Ji’zaka has light grey fur that fades into white with black tips on every other end of his fur. He has red eyes, sharp claws, and multiple piercings in his ears.

He lives with R.A. at Lakeview Manor, and often ends up being a jungle gym and bed for her kids. They love him.

(All of them make one of the most chaotic groups to ever travel across Skyrim)

Who's her mentor

Delvin, which even she found odd, she’ll admit. They had a rocky start when they first met. R.A. was secure in her skills by the time she came into the Thieves Guild, and didn’t appreciate him assuming he knew better than her. She told him as much, rather harshly with her words; as much as her damaged vocal cords would let her, anyway. It was silent after she told him off, and R.A. did worry about making a bad impression, until Delvin laughed, and said he liked her attitude.

She was drawn to his offers of having a drink every other time she came back from a job (she never actually drank, just had some tea). He often seemed to know when something was wrong, and let her know he would listen. R.A. took Delvin up on his offers, and he was the first person she actually opened up to.

Delvin became a sort of father figure to her, someone she could safely confide in. She counts him among her family.

(I’m upset that you can’t insist you know what you’re doing with Delvin or Vex, so R.A. gets to do so from a story point. :P)

Most significant event

Talking with Serana throughout their quests with the Dawnguard. Specifically the conversation in the undercroft of Volkihar castle. R.A. never realised how much she loved family until then. And seeing Serana so resigned to her own father’s fate helped her move on from her parents’ betrayal. It wasn’t forgiveness, it likely would never be forgiveness, but she could let go of it. And seeing Serana in such vulnerable moments helped R.A. see her in a different light. She never hated or disliked Serana, but she tried not to get close to her at first. The amount of trust between them near the end nearly made R.A. weep.

Who does she care for

She cares about her kids, her siblings, her cousins, Ji’zaka, Serana, and Kharjo. Yes, the care is reciprocated, without question.

(Fun fact, I’ve played R.A., Taon, and Kyn in Skyrim :D I couldn’t play Erissa, cause I suck at mage characters, and I think the next OC I wanna play as is Elision, since he gives me paladin/healer vibes ^^ I wanna play Ji’zaka, but I’m unsure about fur colours and patterns.)

Her hobbies & relaxing

Relaxing is relatively new to R.A. and Rayya had to tell her in the gentlest terms that patrolling her house all night wasn’t typically relaxing; not if you were constantly on lookout. Rayya said it was primarily her job, and she urged R.A. to find another way to relax.

Kyn got her enrolled in the Bards College, and R.A. took to playing the lute. Her kids love to sit with her and listen while she plays. They often fall asleep like that.

Gods help you if she finds her favourite book series. You can’t get her attention for hours.

When there’s no enemies around, she loves to roam around Falkreath and the Rift. They’re her favourite Holds.

What should you understand the most

R.A. has a lot on her mind. Thane, factions, crises, the complexity of a possible chaotic afterlife-

It takes a lot to slow her mind down, and in some cases, make her see reason. She’s not reckless, but she knows when and where to target her rage. She shouldn’t have to bear these kinds of responsibilities, but she does. She’ll push through them, because she knows it will give others options she never had in the past.

Nothing can really be done when she gets like that. The best you can do is follow her and see your next quest through.

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes Prologue

Gif credit: hellodollfac3.tumblr.com

Note: This prologue hasn’t been proofread, if you find any mistakes let me know please! I’m looking for someone who might be willing to beta read the story if at all possible. Also, this story is going along with my experiences as a trans guy. Everyone’s transition is different. For me, I have little bottom dysphoria, so I use typical terms for AFAB genitalia when writing smut between my oc and Daryl. I also chose not to use HRT, which is how I wrote Pheonyx as well. In regards to passing, I write sometimes about Nyx having some more “feminine” aspects to his appearance, because this is an issue I have with passing in public. If any of these things are a trigger for you, please proceed at your own risk. Take care of yourselves, lovelies! Remember, every trans person transitions differently and I’m simply trying to portray my experiences as a trans guy.

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this story, please let me know!

Summary: Pheonyx Greene is the oldest of the Greene siblings. He’s always been different than the rest of his family; having endured abuse from his biological father as a kid and growing up as bisexual/transgender in conservative rural Georgia. He loves his family but the past has made him weary of strangers and love. He finds himself on the family farm recovering from top surgery when the world falls apart. As the dead begin to rise, Pheonyx finds himself becoming the sole protector of the farm as his family lives in denial about the Shadows of loved ones past. His life is changed the day Rick Grimes shows up on the farm, and shortly after a certain gruff archer as well. Daryl is drawn to younger man but how does he deal with the internal prejudices he’s grown up with? As the search for Sophia ensues, Daryl is forced to group up with Pheonyx. Will he push him away? Or will Daryl allow himself to put the past aside and let Pheonyx in? 

Series Trigger/content warning: Homophobia/transphobia/biphobia, zenophobia/racism/sexism(Merle), age gap romance(11yr difference. Pheonyx is 28, Daryl is 39 ), sexual assault/rape, child molestation, canon character deaths, body mutilation, child abuse, torture, hunting, smut 18+( P in V, unprotected sex(please practice safe sex!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, marking/biting, oral sex, sub/dom undertones), animal deaths, scars, blood, corpses, depression/anxiety, body dysphoria, religious trauma, menstruation mentions

Chapter Content Warnings: Transphobia/biphobia, religious trauma, child abuse, depression/anxiety, childhood molestation, self harm/suicidal thoughts, puberty, bullying, menstruation talk, body dysphoria, sexism 

Next Chapter

Pheonyx Greene spent the majority of his childhood hiding. So much so, it became second nature to him. 

From the day he was born to the age of 8, he hid from his father’s fists and hateful words that he didn’t understand. Words he wouldn’t understand for years to come. Bruises and lashes were concealed behind baggy clothes. Practiced smiles and rigorous play with neighborhood kids disguising the pain of every movement. His mother, Annette, would stare at him with guilt. Guilt for not having seen the abuse for 5 years, not wanting to see what was going on when she wasn’t home. Guilt for not noticing the flinches at innocent touch. And guilt for letting it continue as she worked to pull away from the monster that held them under his thumb. She never spoke of it to Pheonyx. Simply holding him after each “punishment”, silently cleaning his wounds and wiping his tears. That silence hurt worse than the switch on his back. His eyes begged for just a word from his mother. Something to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That she was there for him or that she was going to do something to protect him. But those words never came. Annette gave birth to his brother, Shawn, when he was 6. 2 years later, they finally escape Pheonyx’s hell. The scars littering his body and the night terrors were always a reminder that he never fully escaped, though. 

At 8, Pheonyx no longer had to hide from his father, but he had to hide from other things. Schoolyard bullies tormented him. They asked him why he only wore jeans and long sleeves? Why did he play with boys instead of the “other girls”? Why did he cut his hair short using the scissors in art class? Why did he roll around in the mud while the girls were playing House on the other side of the playground? They would pull his pants down in the cafeteria, laughing about checking to see if he was a boy or a girl. It confused him. Why did it matter? Couldn’t he just be himself? But apparently it did matter. He would spend his entire schooling years, hiding from those bullies. 

     At 9, his mother married his stepfather, Hershel. He was a nice man. Much older than his mom, but he accepted and adopted, both Pheonyx and Shawn. He had a daughter, only a year younger than Shawn who had just turned three, named Maggie. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her. While devastated about the death of his late wife, Hershel was strong and took on the role of a single father. He and Annette met at the local grocery store. A wailing Maggie in his arms, Hershel was trying to find the right formula product for his growing daughter. Annette was a godsend, taking Maggie and calming her before helping the man find the correct food for his daughter. They exchanged numbers and were married not many months later. The way Pheonyx’s stepfather tells the story, the older man fell for Annette the second she held Maggie in her arms.  

    Hershel was a good father to both Maggie and his stepsons. But Pheonyx was weary of the man at first. His only father figure was a devil of a man and the young boy waited for months for the other shoe to drop. It never did though. He would purposely break dishes or get bad grades at school, just trying to see what would be the final straw before his step father finally punished him. But aside from a small scolding and increased chores for his bad grades, Pheonyx was left unharmed. Hershel was kind and he treated his step children as if they were his own. He would often take the boys on house calls with him, whether it be helping birth a newborn calf or checking a swollen ankle on a neighbor’s gelding. Pheonyx loved the animals and looked forward to any time he could spend helping Hershel with his duties as a veterinarian.  The only thing Pheonyx hated about the man was how devout Hershel was. Pheonyx went from never going to church, to going every Sunday and Wednesday. Plus attending all holiday functions, youth group trips, and bible camps. He had lived in true hell for 8 years. The Christian version seemed like child's play compared to his father’s belt. It was at the church he also had to hide. Hide from the side eyed glances of older neighbors. Hide from the whispers wondering why he refused to wear a dress or why he didn’t act like a “proper young lady”. He had to lie when his mother asked why he didn’t want to attend Sunday School with Shawn and Maggie. He couldn’t explain that the teacher looked at him with evil eyes. That the man’s hands were cold as he slipped them under Pheonyx’s button up blouse. That the touches made him feel worse than when his father would make him kneel and count the lashes. 

When Pheonyx hit puberty, around the time his half sister(Beth) was born, he began to hide within himself. How did he explain to his mother and stepfather that the sight of his budding breasts made him want to claw his own skin off? How did he explain that when he got his first period, he contemplated taking all of his mother’s antidepressants and putting an end to the feeling of wrongness in his body?  How did he explain that everytime someone called him “miss”, “sweetheart”, or “girl”, he felt physically sick? What would he say when his mom knew that he kissed Caroline Allen under the maple tree at school? That same week he also kissed Jeremy Mason by the soccer field. Both of those kisses made his stomach flutter in ways it only should with a boy.  The preacher that previous Sunday had told them that any desire for people of the same sex was the ultimate sin. How did he explain to his mother and stepfather that, in their beliefs, he was destined to go to hell? He couldn’t. So he hid everything. The depression from not feeling at home in his body and from not being able to be himself at home. The anxiety of not fitting in with southern conservative values. The disgust with his own appearance as he let his hair grow and wore dresses to get his mom to smile. The weight of it all became too much. 

Maggie found him one day, crying in the barn, a razor held to his wrist. The 20 yr old thought Maggie would be mad, but she wasn’t. At just 13, the girl was wiser than most adults. She had seen her sibling struggling. She didn’t understand it, but she listened as Pheonyx explained what was wrong. Maggie held him as he cried and led him to the house. There, she helped Pheonyx cut his hair. The cut was jagged and patchy, as all they had were some dull kitchen scissors, but he loved it. She called him her brother and it felt like the cloud of depression and anxiety disappeared for a short amount of time. It was the first time Pheonyx felt truly accepted. That night, Maggie held Pheonyx’s hand as he told their parents and siblings everything. Beth was mostly too young to understand and Shawn was just confused. As were Annette and Hershel. They tried to tell him it was just a phase and that it was normal to be confused at such a young age. They refused to even consider the possibility of him being a boy. Of God having made a mistake when he was forming the child’s body. Despite their non acceptance, Pheonyx felt freer than he ever had. He had been working for 5 years at local horse stables and also as an assistant for Hershel at his clinic, so he used his savings to buy more masculine clothing. Maggie was the one who suggested the name “Pheonyx”. The meaning behind it felt right to him. From that day forward, he went by Pheonyx Archer Greene. 

The years following were rough. Maggie accepted him, never once misgendering or dead-naming him. But the rest of his family continued to have issues with it. Shawn and Beth picked it up faster than his parents. It took 3 years before the older couple even began to come around to the idea of Pheonyx being trans. They consistently pushed him to go to Church, to repent, or to go to “counseling” with the local preacher. This created a divide between the family and Pheonyx, one that still existed even after his parents began gendering and naming him correctly 75% of the time. 

He lost his innocence the day he turned 22. His body, that he had finally begun to love, became a broken shell. A layer of grime covering his already marred skin. No matter how hard he cleaned or tore at his skin, the filth never disappeared. The state of Georgia was suddenly a prison. The rolling pastures and never-ending forests that were once home suddenly held memories he needed to escape.

Once his physical body healed, Pheonyx took the first flight out of the Bible Belt and landed in Michigan. He took shitty jobs just to get by at first. Long hours with little sleep just to avoid the memories that haunted him at night. Solace came in the form of a friend, another trans guy that frequented the diner Pheonyx bused tables for. Small talk became long conversations over burnt coffee. The other man offered him a job at his tattoo shop, Zombie Ink, as a receptionist/custodian.  From there, he healed. Slowly. He had more nightmares and more scars than before but his skin finally felt clean.

He kept in touch with his family, but he avoided visiting. The memories were still painful. It took 6 years for the man to finally gain the courage to go back to his home state. His impending top surgery being the motivation to finally put his demons to rest. He would need some help after his surgery, and truth be told, he missed his siblings. Even his parents. So, he opted for a surgeon closer to his hometown. Afterwards, he would spend the next month healing on the family farm. Pheonyx didn’t realize that by making the decision to put his nightmares to bed, he was changing the whole course of his life. 

Maybe it was fate that brought him back home just shortly before the world collapsed. Or maybe it was just shitty luck. Pheonyx wasn’t sure. All he knew was that everything changed. 

Next Chapter

[blue-jester]

Hey, I'm wondering what's the whole deal with your oc Magiajam? What are they like?

Oh! Ok so

Magia is a lot.. Different from others that are considered divine, I'll explain their backstory first to make this more coherrent [and to give tumblr a better explaination because I realize I don't tell you guys enough about anyone other than Bast]

So! They were born of the magic of paradise, a god formed from the very energies of the most divine and holy place in the universe, on the younger end of the pantheon too. They started out as a small ball of flame that grew with their element [magic]-

Though while they remember paradise as being this perfect, unimaginably peaceful place... They did have one person who'd always, ALWAYS ruin their day. Raver.

[Raver is my evilest oc and I have ABBADON]

Anyhow, Ravers the god of chaos and trickery and as a kid the only one who he could pick on was Magia because they were the only one younger and thus not a threat. So he'd constantly steal their food, trap them somehow and dunk them in the water or pick them up with his tail hand and just generally bully the poor thing. This.. Caused Magiajam to be somewhat of a recluse, hiding in burrows instead of socializing with the other gods which made them crave attention, but they were scared to look for it for a time.

So they would do things for the other gods, they gave Aradite her wings, they gave Faye a sword, they were just... The guy you go to to get things, really. That's all anyone ever visited them for, anyways... But don't be fooled, they were egotistical even despite all this- all gods were. They thought themself the strongest greatest thing in the entire universe and that they should be recognized goddamnit! [and they they should be allowed to maul Raver to death- wait what]

So, after some planning, they thought up the best way to get the recognition [and love] they deserved!

They'd challenge the matter gods.

Now.. The matter gods, they're the strongest beings to ever have sentiance, stronger than the one they were spawned from... Void Termina. The very embodiments of their element, the matters which make up every single thing in the universe... Nothing can fight them. Nothing except maybe a Kirby and the power of friendship and Love [and an incredibly pissed off catboy who dragged his kirby to beat their asses but that's way far in the future- and in an au]

So Magiajam, drunk on their own power thought THEY could take them down. They didn't want to take over- they didn't wanna shake things up.. They just wanted attention. In that fight, they made one fatal error- they wanted to win so badly they went all out in the battle and accidentally destroyed a bit of paradise and disturbed the peace- waking souls and scarring the land.

This is considered an unforgivable sin, to disturb the peace in the holy land of bliss. And so,

The matter gods went all out as well. Taking control of the poor things body and slamming it hard to the ground, spearing them with hundreds or thousands of heart spears so they could torment the mind until Magia physically could not fight back and even until they were crying and pleading for them to stop, they would not. They tore off their wings and said let it be a lesson to the rest of the pantheon. Do NOT cross the four matter gods.

Then, Magia was banished from paradise, thrown far across space, far far until they landed on a hellscape planet known now as Halcandra, there they cried and cried, their flames burning cold and small under the weight and despair of their situation- they had just been banished from their home. The birthplace of a god is perhaps the most holy place one could have, without it... They're not whole. They were separated from their origin- like a small child ripped away from their mother. A hole in their aching heart that could never be filled.

However, when their divine tears hit the boiling surface of the planet, they formed into the first halcandrians, who mewed for their gods attention and pulled them out of their hysteric state.

The god had no idea what to do with them- why they couldn't look after a whole species- they didn't deserve to raise one anyways.. They were a monster. only monsters were banished from paradise.... But, they wanted these little cats to have the best chance possible at life, so they taught them about how to live, how to survive.. How to use magic.

Their heart hurt too badly for them to stay long, and they ached to return home, to paradise... They didn't want their creation following them in their metaphorical pawsteps though, so they did something they thought would stop the pain... They tore out their heart, and threw it into a volcano, which turned their heart into a mortal halcandrian known as King Jorrolor, the first king of Halcandra. They'd put him in charge of leading the species, a good leader who would protect and nurture them- then, they left "to find paradise" and redeem themself

They tried. And tried. And tried to reach paradise again- but when they finally found the gates they were turned away and harshly talked down to- they could never return, they could never redeem themself.. And now, the paradise gods lead by Raver would decide it easiest to take their anger out on them, harass them- over all the banished god would become the others punching bag and take the title of the "evil god" by the rest.

From then, they'd drift across the universe, granting any mortal who could find them a single good natured wish- because if they made all that effort to find them, they deserved something in return...

Magia doesn't want to be seen as a god. Not by the halcandrians that worship them, not by anyone. They don't deserve it and honestly? They just want.. A friend. To be treated normally and as an equal- not lesser like the gods see them, not some untouchable divine force like mortals view them- as just another person who is alive.

As for their personality now, I'd say they're very sweet if not a little bashful and anxious, they have panic attacks and suffer ptsd from the beatdown the matter gods gave them but if you can get past that they're kind, gentle and warm, they find comfort and fun in mundane tasks- they can be sarcastic at times though or irritable depending on circumstance. They're a lot nicer than any other gods you'll meet I can promise you that!

Also by warm I mean both personality wise and literal. In mortal form this fucker is basically a living space heater- or an ultra fluffy cat that's been sleeping in front of a heater for seven hours. God form is made out of literal magic flame so don't touch that though unless they're sad [they're cold when they're sad]

Uhh, got anymore questions! I'd love to hear em!

[platoapproved]

okay okay my shadow and bone season 2 hot takes are burning me from the inside out so here we go:

these are in no particular order but sadly it did feel kind of like a miss for me with nikolai :/  i was worried it was going to be way worse but there were a few changes that were just Not It for me. like you CANNOT just bring in Dominik and have him still be alive. he should’ve been dead the whole time, because that’s nikolai’s whole thing.  he has his charming prince / dashing privateer / all around witty fun guy façade, and underneath it is grief. over a normal commoner, who died wastefully in an unimportant battle.  it MATTERS that that death matters so much to nikolai

AND it’s really not the same for him to get randomly wounded 0.02 seconds before the civil war is completely over, and then later realize some weird magic shit is going on with the wound.  like instead of being DELIBERATELY made into a monster and then spending weeks? months? however long as a mostly mindless monster, unable to help his friends or his country and lowkey maybe eating people.  like that’s that 👏 good 👏 shit 👏 .

it also matters that he’s not visibly scarred afterwards? like literally “king of scars” hello? even if people outside his inner circle don’t know what really happened they still think the darkling tortured him for months or whatever.

anyway the point is the show needed to hurt nikolai a lot more.

kaz was perfect i love him, love how they delivered on his story, definitely the thing this season landed the best.

BUT it does somewhat irk me that pekka is still in the mix after kaz’s takedown.  he runs away, and then just as he’s thinking about maybe coming back, inej finishes it and he’s just OUT. the last chapter of the duology is him just being like “i can’t DEAL with how vicious these teens are i’m too old for this shit i’m FINISHED”.  i just think kaz brekker would not be satisfied with him still being in hellgate having any power whatsoever.

LOVED how little mattias content there was.  cut him out entirely. five of crows.

giving the darkling a weird underling with bad bangs and 90s lipstick and spending so much time on her was a strange move considering how many other things they were trying to cover, like y’all don’t have room to be adding new OCs.

JUSTICE FOR DUNYASHA why was inej fighting some random taxidermy man instead.  her appearance in crooked kingdom always DELIGHTS me because she just shows up out of nowhere declaring herself to be inej’s great rival and being psychosexually obsessed with her and inej is just ?????? because she has no idea who this fucking person is. changing her to some random dude is a homophobic attack on me personally.

i am glad they gave jesper some serious moments this season finally, but also a little sad with how much they rushed the grisha stuff for him. i think it’s probably an inevitable book-to-movie thing but they didn’t do enough with how much hiding his powers was fundamental to who he is. it’s like, the root of his frankly suicidal recklessness and addiction and shame.  his feelings about his powers are tied to his mother and her death but also to his father and how he taught Jesper to lie about himself and also made him feel ashamed/guilty to have powers.  AND most importantly it’s not just parent stuff, it’s a response to the world around him where grisha are hunted and persecuted and kidnapped and enslaved and conscripted and experimented on.  it’s not just that he’s sad about his mom.  it’s one of the many responses we see in the books from grishas towards a world that is so hostile to them.  you can’t just make it about the personal circumstances.  the social and political ones have an impact too.

i do get why they never get into it but man. i also missed jesper’s pathetic fucked up crush on kaz.  just another moment where the show provided the outer show (jesper being charming and having plenty of little flings and encounters) but not the knife-twist beneath it (him pining for kaz all those years and both of them kind of knowing it but never saying anything about it, and kaz just absolutely 100% not into him like that but not NOT stringing him along with little bits of kindness, unintentionally or intentionally).  like one of the things that is great about wylan and jesper is that it’s jesper deciding finally that he deserves more than waiting for little scraps of nothing from kaz and just going on a date with a nice boy, y’know?

i wish nina and inej had more friendship moments :c they haven’t known each other as long in the show. :c they’re supposed to be besties. :c i need them to be in love. :c

okay that’s all the hottest of my hot takes i think, overall i had a lot of fun with it and the main takeaway was that the kaz stuff was /chefkiss