#cw for … dire verse things

[lifesver]

swiping renee’s idea to talk about nosy/dusk aliases…

dallas is his normal go-to, and the one that he started off with. he just thought the name sounded cool, and the persona itself is closest to who leland already is. i.e., a gentle-hearted small town boy, a little silly, handsome and charming, seems like he’s falling for you like a puppy dog. dresses understated, smiles at you warmly and asks you to dance. his victim profile here can be anyone, just because he’s very social, will get buddy-buddy and chameleon with rowdier boys, will be a nice polite gentleman with the girls. dallas works well in most places and most situations, very versatile. he’s very much disarming, easy to trust. seems like someone fun to party with, also seems like a boy who would drive you home at the end of the night and not expect anything. his m.o. is usually getting you into his car first and then knocking you out. carries hunting knives and pistols, which when he started out were easier to kill with because he could separate a little from using like,, his own hands (like he once had to do in the basement cells w the other victims lol lmao). i think he has a couple variations of this type of fake identity, like sometimes he leans more college bro sometimes he leans more country boy, just kind of depends.

laurel is both a more experimental alias as well as a more specialized one. he uses laurel on men the most, for people who want a quick hookup mostly. it’s pretty risky in like….. rural 70s texas esp but i think he gets good at getting the right person’s attention and making them come to him rather than the other way around. he plays up something a bit more soft, batting his prettyboy lashes at u w a smile across the bar and then looking away u know how it is. laurel is v much an exploration of sexuality, a lot more brazenly flirtatious (which like. this type of seduction was pretty out of his wheelhouse until he practiced). laurel brings victims to seedy motel rooms or pulls them into alleys. sometimes to slit their throat in a private place, sometimes to walk them straight into johnny. also like to think him and maria using rosa are a fun flirty little double threat that will again, do this and lure people into back rooms or whatever together. typically uses a butterfly knife, or just turns the tables on someone w sheer strength when they underestimate him. probably the most nerve-wracking one to use to start with, but after a while he gets the whole process down to a science. anyway it’s giving ‘making out while spattered in blood from the guy i just killed’

jude is sort of experimental and sort of a way of letting out his Worse side and expending his anger. the most feral dog energy tbh. typically the default for when maria lures someone out to him and johnny to play w as well because he’s going for enforcer/guard dog. in a lot of ways bc he mirrors johnny in those moments, when they work together messing someone up. jude is a more tough guy sadistic side that again, strongly mirrors johnny in almost every way, lurks around like his shadow tbh. also gets pretty brutal, his crime scenes are a mess. he’ll use basically whatever to put someone down but sometimes it rly just is his bare hands. smile. the name jude was lowkey chosen for his saint jude necklace, complicated feelings w religion now that we’re doing murder etc etc. also is mostly used dealing w tougher guys who he’ll legit pick fights with so we can Take It Outside (to ur death) and like again this type of persona was a bit out of his wheelhouse until he just sort of used it as a physical outlet for his anger.

[gigisdoll]

Cw: noncon, dubcon, blackmail, murder, blood,somnophillia

Pairings: g!p serial killers!winrina x naive/gullible!fem reader

The horrified screams were heard all throughout your neighborhood and yet the killers have yet to be found.. When the school caught up on the news they pointed fingers towards multiple people, including you now obviously you didn't do it? But your schoolmates never listen! As they called you mean names, pushed and shoved you around there were only two people that you sort of hang out with you! But to your surprise they were... Two of the most popular girls in the school? Why would they hang out with you?

Paranoia spread all over you... Why were all the murders linked to you? Everyone who was killed was associated with you in the past, like past girlfriends, ex friends or even ex crushed you thought no one knew about but everyone knew... You were too obvious you liked them, and they did not like that! They couldn't bear to watch you throw heart eyes at girls who would throw your likeness awayso the next best thing Karina and Minjeong thought of was well... Getting rid of the competition! Yeah!

"Y/nie we promise you're safe with us! You'll never have to worry about anything harming you while you're with us.. " Minjeong told you while you sat atop of her, some may say this isn't normal in friendships like yours but you find it completely normal! Or that's what Minjeong and Karina tell you... Friends do kiss each other right? That's what they do to you, you're new to this whole friend thing so you don't really know they say it's some sort of courtesy? Well what reason would they have to lie to you? "Y/n you know we'll never let anything hurt you right? " Karina said comfortingly "Mhm" you nodded, not a thought in your head.. Why would you have one anyway? when you could rely on them instead..

Karina and Minjeong were incredibly strategic, but god was it hard to decide if they should kill u or not, u were always soo loopy and out of it, sometimes barely being able to think! They just agreed not to! I mean... Why waste such a cutie like you right? You were also so gullible too Oh..! The red stuff? Nah... It's just ketchup we swear! And.. The knife..? Uhm we were making homemade ketchup don't worry! Of course you believed their awfully made up lies!.. Why wouldn't you...?

The night where they snuck in was eerily quiet. Way too quiet for a neighborhood full of teenagers, whose only hobbies consisted of gaming, making loud noises and ding dong ditching. You were paranoid, as anyone would be. Any noise was amplified by 10 to you, and small movements would suddenly startle you. Well at least you locked the doors and windows... Now no one can get in without you knowing! Of course like the naive girl you were, you gave a copy of your key to Minjeong and Jimin cause they convinced you they would need it in the most dire of situations. They didn't. Obviously. But they were your friends they wouldn't... Would they?

Deciding you needed a good night's rest to just shut off with all the paranoia built in you, the lights shut off, the doors checked, as well as the windows. You were ready to go to bed, and sleep the night away, and you did just that as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep. And they were still wide awake, peeping closely at you, why'd you have to give them the key? Now you're in a situation where you can't get out of, let alone know about. Karina and Minjeong were well versed in your home, so much so that they knew which floor board would make a creak and ones that won't. Minjeong looked at your sleeping figure as you tossed and turned unable to really shake off the feeling of anxiety within you... But don't worry... They'll help!

In the state you were in was incredibly vulnerable, as it was also already established you were much weaker than the pair... Once it was a joke. Now it's very much not.. With a pair of hands traveling down to your pretty pink panties and another pair going up to your matching bra, they were scared you'd wake up. Not because of the fight you'll put up or the screams and cries you'll let out, it's because it's almost a guarantee you won't be alive if you do any of the two. Squirming in their hold you felt quite the bulge or... Bulges pressed up and grinding on both your back and stomach with a pair of lips kissing down on your neck making you whimper in your sleep, as Minjeong's hands held you down. Both your pants and panties were pulled down by Jimin's hands.

Your eyes' we're blurred as you stirred awake, and your arms tried pushing the two away, but too weak to actually do anything. Your limp legs trying to kick away the intruders "Y/n..." Someone in your left side said, oddly you were familiar with the tone. Something hard and warm pushed against the entrance of you and you squeaked, finally awake but unaware of who was doing this. Kicking and punching was obviously going to happen, but Jimin didn't care it only fueled her to push past the entrance and gasp as your warmth enveloped her. "Minjeong??" You cried out as your eyes adjusted to the darkness while you looked behind you, you were horrified! Jimin was bullying herself into your hole while her arms are wrapped around your waist.

Minjeong hushed you, as her dick slapped itself on your mouth as it dripped with pre. "Suck. Or you'll know what'll happen otherwise. " you knew what she was referring to, you knew whatever dirt she had in you had to be bad. With tears in your eyes you opened your mouth and an intrusion immediately inserted itself inside as Minjeong groaned out as your mouth was insanely warm "Fucking hell y/n..." Jimin bit her lip as she starting pounding inside of you. More tears flowed from your eyes as the pain settled in of Jimin pounding straight inside of you "We are sorry but we had to do this... " "We didn't want to kill you, unless you just want to disobey us? " you didn't know who was speaking the pain [and pleasure] taking over all your senses, just nodding and suckling on Minjeong's cock "That's a good girl" Jimin spoke drilling herself inside of you faster "Such a pretty girl, with pretty tears"

Your face was red and stained with tears while your eyes were wet and shameful, Minjeong almost moaned at the sight of you being so obedient to them, along with your disheveled state it was hard not to squeal at the cuteness. You hoped they would be done sooner or later, only wanting to simply sleep, as soon as the pair shot out their loads you blacked out completely, the pleasure being too much to handle. Maybe tomorrow you'll wake up more refreshed to take their cocks :)

-

[sparksintheashes]

melody in static; chapter 13

previous . index . next

what u should know;

@tiesthatbind-tf verse, quintesson-era [1930s]

cw; Dead bodies. Vague drug addiction reference. Does 'allusion to cosmic horror' count?

Apologies for the delay in posting! I ended up getting Con Crud from TFCon and I'm still not over it, but I'm at least well enough to wrap things up this week.

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Primus was not one to waste idle processing time. In a sense, they couldn't; this did not mean it was impossible to relax so much as there was always something going on in the back of their mind. True, the concept of relaxing as humans understood it was foreign to them, but Aillard and Pravda both were excellent teachers in their own way, of explaining things that Primus had before only experienced through observation. Viewing humans through such lenses as they once had access to was one thing; actually interacting was far, far different. 

Indeed, before enabling their escape, those two were the only sources it had for such data. And then Victor, for those weeks, whom himself had been enlightening and further proof of just how resilient these humans were-! More than worthy of holding their own planet, and if Primus could be of assistance, well, such would be the closest thing they knew to an 'honor' as they had ever experienced. Now living in the midst of them, those opinions had not changed. But they were growing more and more used to being surprised; whether by persons who had been trying to watch unobtrusively, to individual rituals that seemed to have no sense or logic, or even by glimpses of humanity's darker side such as quiet murmurs that it was merely here to spy on them...in a sense, Primus expected no less than one new discovery per day, at this point, and hadn't been disappointed yet.

Of course, a spacebridge opening counted only so much as a surprise or discovery - but the figure that stepped through certainly fit. For it was Victor, but he wasn't the same Victor who had spoken with Primus but an hour ago; this one resembled Pravda during an overexertion of her powers, hollow and pale and missing something. And while Primus thought there was more to it than that, Victor met their gaze and, without so much as a greeting;

"I'm from five months ahead."

Primus's eyes brightened as they calculated the implications. All of them. Nevermind the fact that they had warned Victor against time travel in the first place, citing the Quintessons' previous attempts; the fact that he had not only managed it, but tried it in the first place, meant things were dire indeed. For him to reach back and make contact...

"What are you trying to change?" they asked, only to be further surprised at Victor's wan, humorless smile.

"I believe I've managed most of them...but you had mentioned that we had spoken 'earlier'. I thought it best not to disappoint."

Oh, those implications, Primus did not like at all. And Victor's expression lost any humor as they spoke. "I would hope not. All data indicates paradoxes like that are what caused the catastrophes we spoke of." They took a moment to look about, noting how Victor's face paled further, then lowered their voice further as they returned their attention to him in full. "Am I correct in guessing this is your first venture, overall?"

Victor wet his lips with his tongue, slowly nodding. "In a sense, I...had a few stops before here, obviously, but- I didn't know I could do this." He took a breath, then moved to take a seat on one of the smaller crates. Two were set up by a larger one, acting as a makeshift table; here in London's tunnels, actual furniture was makeshift at best, and there simply hadn't been any to afford to Aillard and Pravda despite their status as more-or-less guests. "Believe me, I wouldn't have tried if things weren't so dire-"

"Victor." Primus waited until the man was looking at him before continuing. "I know you; I trust you," they emphasized, provoking another smile that looked almost sad. But they kept speaking, filing the expression away for later. "You wouldn't have done this unless you thought you had no choice, but you must be cautious. Should you contradict what has already happened..."

"But how would I know?" Victor countered, sounding frustrated. "Other than some of Rhisling's energies seeming strange - which I tried to avoid," he quickly added, seeing Primus's aghast reaction, "I haven't any idea if I'm doing this properly or not. Or if there is a proper way," he added gloomily. "I've tried to limit what I've done to making sense, at least of how I recall things, but..."

"...but that is quite a lot in itself," Primus noted, pensive. After a moment of thought, they shook their head. "I don't know what help I can be to you, Victor. I'm not sure what my future self said, but- what I do know is that timespace wants to move in a certain direction. While you may be able to alter some parts, I would be slow to make any extreme changes - such as trying to stop a war," they said with as much dry humor as they could manage.

To his credit, Victor managed a soft but real smile in response - apparently seeing what humor there was to be seen. "Tempting, but I think we've long passed that point," he drawled - and Primus nodded once more.

"The further back you go, the more difficult things would logically be - as Rhisling still 'tethers' you to when and where you came, if the Quintessons' notes on the matter are correct. They believed severing that tether through extreme action was what triggered the collapse into black holes, as the timeline could no longer correct itself as necessary and so abandoned what changes had been made."

The man was quiet for a long few moments, clearly considering Primus's words. When he spoke, his words were slow, cautious. "I've already been told I met someone in the past, but I have no memory of it...and there's something I want to try, but I don't know if it would be considered 'extreme' or not. Who defines such a thing?" he wondered, rubbing his face wearily, and once again Primus noted how pale he was. An overexertion of energy, no doubt, and they moved forwards to touch his shoulder in reassurance.

"You said you managed most of what you needed?" At Victor's nod, Primus squeezed with their long, thin fingers. "Then I would strongly urge you to return. You need rest - if you did meet someone before, then it is possible it was from a later transport - the nature of time travel allows you to put things off for a later date without much trouble." Again, that dry humor. "So long as it is done - in a sense, it already has been done. Do you understand?"

It took him a moment, but Victor nodded before too long. "I believe so. But there's one more thing I need to do," he insisted, voice firm. And Primus could only nod, sliding back to give him room.

"Then go. I can only hope that I've given you what you needed during this stop."

Once more, there was a smile. "I do believe you have."

—---------------------

So long as it is done - in a sense, it already has been done.

With these words, Victor traveled back further. Primus was right, that he needed rest - or at least to return, and see how things had fared, if his actions had done anything. But before he did, there was one final stop, one final need- and perhaps it wasn't directly related to Soner's machinations, but this? This was important. 

And so, as Victor stepped out of Rhisling into the battle-mussed laboratory, he was all nerves and strained senses, tense and ready to flee if need be. There'd been none of that strange energy to warn him, so he could only assume that his intentions were 'minor' enough to not strain the artifact. But that just led into questions as to how it knew his intentions in the first place...

...time enough to wonder about that, later. For now, it was eerily quiet, and with good reason; Victor was within Inquirata's laboratory just after he had made his escape. Indeed, the only sound he could hear was sparking wires and machinery; the low murmur of voices he had once been so used to was silent, and about him...

He could never forget the sight, but seeing the two bodies up here were more than enough to make him shudder. There were others, down in the pit, but he'd take care of those in a moment; first things first. Even from here, he could tell there was no hope for Shane; the man was still and unmoving, skewered through the stomach. But the other one...

Victor hadn't had the chance to see what had happened to him, but now he knew; Hei still breathed.

Immediately, he rushed over, kneeling by the crumpled form of his friend. Months, it had been, and perhaps he had only known Hei for weeks - much less time, trusting him as a close ally. But Hei, like others, had fought for Victor, even hardly knowing what he was doing in the first place - and as Victor rolled him onto his back to take a closer look, he knew, deep down inside, that he was finally repaying the favor.

"Stay with me, my friend," he murmured, assessing the other's state as he brushed some blood from his forehead. Hei seemed unconscious, but considering the last Victor had seen of him he'd been thrown into machinery - perhaps that wasn't surprising. He certainly looked worse for the wear, and Victor couldn't quite tell from where that blood had been seeping. Perhaps he could bring him to Aillard and Primus, perhaps he could evacuate them all to the Underground before the Quintessons came…

But one step at a time. He reached forwards pulling one of Hei's arms across his shoulders and moving to first his knees, then slowly to a stand as he bore the man's weight. The motion provoked a soft groan from the other, which was, all things considered, encouraging?...or so Victor hoped. Either way, he turned towards the edge of the floor, where the rest of the group that hadn't fought no doubt were trying to decide if it was safe to come out...

Movement. Just out of the corner of his vision- he frowned a bit, turning his head, half-expecting to see a glimmer of gold - but instead, he inhaled sharply at the mass of black that was swirling about like smoke. In fact, the only thing keeping him from calling it smoke was the fact there was no source-

-and, for the briefest of moments, it mimicked Hei's form before swirling once more and moving upright.

Victor instinctively took a step back, throat clenching with a nameless horror at the sight. Everything in him screamed wrong, that this was the precursor to something terrible, and yet he was rooted to the spot as the not-smoke began to - stagger? Slide? - towards him. He remembered nothing like it before, not in Inquirata's lab during his time in it nor in any other memory, and yet something deep within him understood that the mere presence of such was a disaster.

And it was still coming closer.

The realization freed him of his paralysis. Fueled by terrified instinct, he reached for Rhisling, hope-praying he could return when it was safe and absent of this - this thing! But the action seemed to trigger it, too, into movement - it lunged for him, and he choked back a shout as he fell backwards into the spacebridge, still clinging to Hei.

The thing followed.

Within Rhisling, its presence seemed to expand; suddenly, Victor was not looking at a mass of smoke. He was looking at an impossibly large figure, something that seemed to wrap around him in every direction at once. And Rhisling's space, which had grown almost comforting in its familiarity, grew dark - and even darker by the second. 

And within his fast-beating heart, Victor knew that if it grew much darker still, then it would be the end. Nothing can escape, not even light- what hope would he, a mere human, have in the face of such a force? 

At his side, Hei stirred. Victor risked a glance to him, having half-forgotten about him through the overwhelming panic. A fresh surge went through him at the realization that it wasn't just himself he'd damned in this space; Hei, who very well could have lived through whatever happened next, was as trapped as Victor himself was.

Only- he wasn't trapped, was he? But where could he go? There was no time to figure it out, because it was growing even darker, and Victor desperately reached forwards, forwards-

Forwards.

If Rhisling was anchored to his present, then surely- surely the future could be changed, if he somehow brought this with him into it. With that frantic thought, Victor grabbed hold of Rhisling, hardly caring when or where he went so long as it was away from the shadow-maw that was now closing in, like a great beast-!

The daylight was blinding.

Victor fell onto the ground, Hei grunting as he landed next to him - and stirring, thank god. But there was no time to be thankful, for Victor was looking back over his shoulder before grabbing Hei's own and shoving him down to cover with his own body as a shield. There was a great bestial roar as something dark and dire surged just over their heads before suddenly bursting into countless fragments with a sound like shattering glass.

In the silence that followed, Victor finally, finally let out the breath he'd been holding all this time, and sagged heavily on to Hei's form. The younger man turned his head just enough to blink owlishly up at Victor, his wide brown eyes confused and disoriented.

"Nn...nani kore?"

Victor could only offer him a shaky smile. "Whatever it was, I think it's gone," he replied, the fading adrenaline leaving him all the more weak in its wake. He closed his eyes and breathed as Hei slowly untangled himself, and Victor could hear him slowly getting to his feet and making a soft sound of wonder. And when Victor opened his eyes once more and let himself take in the surroundings...

He could see why.

The cities of his memory - well, London, really - were bright and vibrant, but nothing like this. They were tall, building straining towards the heavens like fingers from an outstretched hand. Crowded, but outside their little shelter of an alley...

Outside was like another world.

Hei lingered only to help him to his feet, and this time, was the one to help Victor move forwards; the two stared slack-jawed at the sights just beyond. 

Every color Victor could imagine was either plastered on someone's clothing, or on a wall, or on a screen that was so like one of the tablets except enlarged, a moving poster that Victor couldn't help but recognize as, of all things, an advertisement. It cheerfully invited the observer to visit Wyatt Toys, and another, just past, seemed to be some sort of report? And the buildings-! If London was a hand, then these were spears, great towers that seemed to brush the clouds themselves. Victor's neck hurt as he craned up to try and see the tops, but as he looked back down, once more those colors caught his attention - but this time, he took in just how many people wore them. The streets rivaled London's busiest hours, people bumping shoulders as they carried out their business without a single look back, a few street vendors hawking their wares.

Best of all? There was not a sign of the Quintessons.

People were smiling, laughing, chatting freely without casting constant looks over their shoulders - and if any had seen or heard the thing, they had quickly dismissed it and gone back to their day. That knowledge, alone, made Victor's heart more light than he could ever remember it being, aside from his wedding day - but being here, now, after everything?

"We make it through," he whispered, unsurprised to feel his throat hitching once more - but this time, with emotion other than fear. "By God, we make it through."

So long as it is done - in a sense, it already has been done. Did that connect to will be, Victor wondered? And if so- his throat seized once more, and he looked back towards where the shadow had splintered, but he saw nothing, felt nothing, heard-

"Ah-!" That was Hei, pulling away - Victor wobbled for a moment but managed to stay on his feet by putting a hand on the wall, right as the young man dove into the crowd without hesitation. "I smell food!"

True, there was the scent of something hitting his senses- but Victor, wide-eyed, reached for Hei with a hiss of, "Wait!" To no avail, as the other quickly became lost from his sight. Victor pulled his hand back in uncertainty, staring at where he'd last glimpsed that messy dark hair, and his mind raced as he thought of all the things that could happen to him, he might even have had a concussion, he needed a doctor, he needed-

a drink

Victor's hand flew to his face as he groaned softly, because god, he was tired. Bone-weary in his exhaustion, he was in no state to go after his friend without passing out. Perhaps he could come back and find him again...but Primus had been right. He needed to rest. Hoping that Hei could manage himself at least for a few hours, he took a deep breath and retreated further into the alley, only briefly noting what looked like a figure covered by refuse as he opened Rhisling and stepped through.

He'd been through so much already, there wasn't room for anything else. Not until he'd rested, at least. He just had to remember when he'd left Hei, that was London, yes, he could at least remember that- 

-he stumbled, tried to catch himself, and then fell to his hands and knees as he returned to the only-so-familiar room. A control panel, blood, no Soner in sight - but he didn't care, he was so bloody tired that it was all he could do to keep from passing out for the moment. Once he caught his breath, he'd look to see where the man had gotten to, he hadn't forgotten that he still had to be dealt with but surely missing half his arm would keep him quiet...

"You."

[artoni-arts]

sparks in the ashes; chapter 3

previous . index . next

what u should know;

@tiesthatbind-tf verse, quintesson-era [late 1920s]

CW; children in cages, anxiety attack

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To say Sadie didn't remember much of her life before meeting Victor would have been a lie; she remembered plenty, such as evading Guardsmen patrols, working with the other kids to try and scrounge up something edible that wouldn't make them sick, sitting in the remains of a bombed building and making up the most outlandish way to live 'when all this was over'. Because Sadie remembered it wasn't always like this; she distantly remembered having a mum and da, though their faces were hard to remember by now. She used to dream of being a princess, she thought, at least until the up until hearing news the King had died and the monarchy was more-or-less gone; no use being royalty then, now, was there?

If anything, she figured, she was a princess of the streets. And that suited her just fine; she hadn't wanted a new da, but Victor was close enough to an uncle that she didn't mind staying with him. He was nice, if a bit stern at times, and in dire need of cheering up in others; something she took to with gusto, as seeing him smile or even, more rarely, laugh reminded her of better times that she couldn't fully remember. Warm and fuzzy feelings, at least, not unlike a good meal. And while he'd fretted at first, he'd seemed to grow to accept that she wasn't always going to sleep over, wasn't always going to come back with something or other, and certainly wasn't always going to behave.

Which was why how upset he'd seemed, back then, still bothered her. He hadn't hurt her or anything, but it was the first time he'd ever been aggressive like that. Sure, she'd played keep-away once or twice, but that was play. This had been her left staring at the door for a few moments before squaring her jaw and immediately going to shove open the window. She'd figured that the other two wouldn't be long, and just as she'd thought, they'd been out before she could come to terms with her mixed feelings.

She wasn't angry at Victor, just...trying to think of what else she could have done, maybe, to make things turn out better. No use worrying now, though, she had to focus on guiding Aillard and Pravda through the city. They'd already had a close encounter, with Pravda abruptly grabbing her coat to haul her back. Aillard motioned for silence before she heard the tell-tale hum; it quickly loudened, and within seconds, a pair of squiddies were slinking down the street, making those strange sounds she assumed was them talking to each other. The three of them held their breath until the sounds died down once again, and then moved once more.

"How far to go?" Pravda murmured, and Sadie glanced over her shoulder towards the woman. The tall, big woman. Whom Sadie was tempted to ask for a piggy back ride from at some point, but-

"We go down over here," she explained, nodding towards the remains of a railway station. Unlike the one that was commonly used by the squiddies, this one hadn't been cleaned up at all from the invasion; anyone looking at it would have assumed it'd already been scavenged for supplies, and that there was nothing but more rubble underneath. Indeed, it was difficult to find the entrance - only someone who already knew it could find it easily, and even Sadie still had trouble trying to remember which underhang, which twist, "No, wait, wrong one, go back...aha!"

"How can you tell this from the other?" Aillard asked, baffled. Sadie just grinned and tapped a set of scratches - or what looked like them, at first.

"Coz it's got the Underground's mark!"

Pravda reached out, tracing the crude shape. But Sadie wasn't willing to wait out here for her to look even closer - she ducked down under a broken archway, using the handrail to stabilize herself as she moved down the steps. And maybe she wasn't as familiar with the tunnels as the boys, but what was the worst that could happen?

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

As soon as he was able to breathe, Victor was moving for his coat. Nevermind the fact he was allotted a few more hours of rest before his shift; walking as a Guardsman would e the only way he could be safe. Pravda's words echoed in his mind - one of the Quintesson's tools - but he pushed them aside as he slung it over his shoulders. His baton, too, just in case, though he briefly hesitated as his hand clenched around it.

A tool, indeed. Perhaps one day he'd have the courage to use it in another way - but was it courage to throw one's life away like those two youths from yesterday? They perhaps killed a Quintesson, yes, but how many of them and their friends had been killed?

How many would be killed, once the Quintessons found out their hiding spot?

...it wasn't to think of, right now. He needed to find Sadie before they did. Squaring his jaw, Victor set out, only briefly gazing at the tray Aillard had laid out for him earlier. The food, which had been so delicious and savory, now sat poorly in his stomach; nerves, no doubt. Perhaps a more paranoid man would have suspected poison, but it wouldn't be the first time (or, likely, the last) that a meal hadn't settled well. Instead, Victor swallowed to try and help calm his stomach as he moved for the exit.

"Prentiss?" Victor paused, briefly, glancing up at the voice. Morgan - one of his fellows, who took on a more center-city patrol, had his head sticking out of his own door with a frown, and a moment later, was stepping out to block Victor's way. "Did I hear someone else in your quarters?"

"Sadie's friends- look, I'm afraid I don't have time, I-"

"Your shift isn't until later." The suspicion on his face grew. "Where are you going?"

Victor clenched his jaw before deciding there was nothing else for it, and stepping forwards. "Not that it's any of your bloody business," he spat, hoping his (quite real) anger hid his unease, "but I'm following a lead. Now, if you'll excuse me." Without bothering to wait for a response, he reached and outright shoved the man out of his way, enough to move past. He heard something indignant, but couldn't spare the time nor effort to try and process if they were actual words or just a curse - Morgan could go suck up to the squiddies by tattling on his disrespect for all he cared, his record was spotless and there was no reason to tolerate his nonsense.

Every reason to keep moving. The air tasted of ozone; not the sort that came from the metal constructs of the Quintessons, but of incoming rain. Adjusting the collar of his coat, Victor moved at a quick pace, trying to mentally organize all of Sadie's favorite lurking spots - or any of the children's, really. As long as they knew he was looking for her, they'd keep their own eyes out, perhaps even pass on a message if he asked.

He wasn't sure he'd want them to. What would he say, I'm sorry? Better said in person, he thought, and there crept in another thought; if I can find her. For the streets - generally empty as a rule, aside from someone going to or fro on business or another Guardsman, or the rare Quintesson - seemed hostile in their silence, the tension he'd sensed yesterday still present in a twisted way.

When he spotted a Quintesson transport near one of the childrens' favorite hiding spots, his uneasiness grew. As he approached, he could see a pair of Enforcers, one manning the vehicle while the other was working in the back - which was odd, they rarely came out to man the streets themselves, but perhaps given the circumstances it wasn't so odd. He bowed when one warbled at him, immediately fishing out his identity card;

"Victor Prentiss, Night-Guardsman..."

[It is not night,] one of the Quintessons cut in, its red eyes narrowed and unamused. Victor noticed a fresh injury to its armor and decided caution was the better choice, here.

"I wished to assist beyond my shift." Hopefully, he wouldn't be rounded up in to whatever they were doing - but how else could he explain myself? "As such, I was patrolling for any citizens who had broken curf-"

[Irrelevant,] the other said, waving its braided arm-tentacles dismissively as Victor grew quiet. [Unrequired. You will return to your dwelling and await your shift.]

"...of course." There was no arguing with a direct order, but Victor thought he might persuade a little leeway as he opened his mouth to continue - before motion in the vehicle caught his eye.

Quintessons didn't bother dealing with dead humans, short of having them directed to a location for 'harvest and disposal'; even in death, they were given no peace, though some managed furtive funerals and burials in places they could find ground loose enough to dig a grave. The only time they collected humans was when they were collecting subjects for new experimentation - or if they had found an unauthorized 'nest'.

Simon's familiar eyes stared back at his, and the boy opened his mouth before a hand flew over it. Behind him, Joel leaned forwards, hissing a warning before meeting Victor's gaze at well, brow furrowed as a spark of hope entered his face. But at Victor's helplessly horrified expression, it quickly faded, and he swallowed before Simon managed to pull his hands down.

Sadie could be there, with them, but- no, if she was, she'd have already pushed her way to the front, wouldn't she? Even so, the sight of 'his' children being collected had him consumed in dread, and only when the Quintesson stepped in between to loom over him did he manage to recover. [Are your aural sensors damaged, human?] it demanded, prompting another low bow of subservience.

"No, I- I'll be off."

[Hold.] He froze in place, and tried not to shudder as the cold skin of its tentacles forced his head up. He instinctively wanted to pull back, away, and it took every ounce of self-control to hold himself still as it seemed to examine him, poking lightly at his ears. It looked him over - reminding Victor so much of how he'd seen someone once study a dog that had been whining from pain - before seeming satisfied enough and not-quite-shoving him away. Still, what strength was there was almost enough to knock him off his feet, unsteady as he already was, and he was unashamedly relieved when it turned its back on him. [Go. Report to the Third Spire before the end of the week for full examination.]

That was not a relief - quite the opposite, really - but Victor dared not err further and risk an additional correction, however benign it might have seemed at first. He stumbled away, numb, the vision of Joel and Simon trapped in that vehicle burned in to his memory. They weren't the only children there, he realized, but he didn't know the others.

He knew them.

So, what, the others don't matter?

Once more, only that innate sense of direction kept him from being lost as he turned a few corners - and then sagged against a wall, covering his face with his hands just as the first few drops of rain started to fall.

charred, burned alive

"-Quintesson's tools-"

He couldn't breathe, he was back in line for modifications, there as a Quintesson scanning them all and Scarlett squeezed his hand reassuringly, murmuring that whatever happened, at least they'd be together

the Quintesson pausing before the two of them, eyes locking on Scarlett's form

"This's for Yorkshire!"

no, he was back trying to shore up London's defenses, for King and Country neither of them could fall, water was falling heavily, now, soaking him to the bone

"Squiddie-Guard!"

he wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. His brother, his only brother, shot by some bastard in the trenches, Victor could only hold his parents as both of them sobbed freely

hands pulled at Victor's hair, his own hands, he distantly realized. Because he was still in London, and trying frantically to ground himself by whatever means necessary. The physical pain was all he had to distract himself from the pandemonium in his head, his heart, and he bit his lip as well to muffle whatever sounds he might have made in this state. Perhaps the noise of the rain may have covered it, but did he dare risk such a thing?

Oh, God. But how could a so-called kind and loving God allow any of this? His eyes watered, and he didn't fight the tears that began to spill as he shuddered in upset. How could anyone allow monsters to come from the stars and upheave their lives, enslave their world, use their children as fodder to say nothing of what other atrocities were happening day to day-

How could I allow it?

For, Victor understood, as much as he'd tried to convince himself otherwise - he was complicit. He may have been trying to stay alive and to mitigate the harm caused, but he was still a part of the system, and he had reached his limit. He simply couldn't do this anymore, and it sickened him to think that it took this long to realize such. And he had no one to turn to, no shelter to seek. Not unless he wanted to drown himself in alcohol, or worse.

It was that thought that had him finally release his hair, instead wrapping his arms about himself as he fought to regulate his breathing. To stop this- this wibbling. It was easier thought than done; his mind kept going back to Joel's face, to Simon being silenced, to him silencing Sadie...

I need to find Sadie.

He had to know whether she'd been taken in or not. And short of tracking down Renard - whom, if he was smart at all, was keeping his head as down as possible and keeping to himself, which meant Victor would never find him - he had precious few options. Perhaps...

Perhaps Old Mac's?

Keenly aware of how much time had passed, he staggered to his feet, using the wall to stabilize himself and make sure his footing was steady. Belatedly, he realized he'd been collapsed by an old storefront - a half destroyed sign indicated it might have once been a candy shop. The glass was long gone, the inside dark and full of debris. Useless to him, but for a moment, just a moment, he was struck with nostalgia for times long gone. This place must have once been full of people of all ages, hunting down a bit of a sweet treat - now, such things were only memories.

Except- the black markets had such things, still, hadn't they? He licked lips that were somehow still dry as he pushed himself forwards, considering. Somewhere in the city, someone was able to get sugar, or whatever it was they needed to create such things - he could have sworn he'd seen Sadie surreptitiously snacking on such, once or twice. Somehow, the people of the city kept what normalcy they could in a world gone mad, where over three-quarters of the city was tasked to mine the Scar. The others weren't exempt from being worked to the bone; all told, as a Guardsman, he'd had a rather cushy life. Was that part of the reason he tried to convince himself this was an acceptable life, that things could have been so much worse?

Victor paused, motion even in the rain catching his attention. He peered across the street, then sucked in a breath and quickly darted in to a shadow as a dim glow was just perceptible through the open entryway of the 'pub'. Movement again - another Quintesson Enforcer, this one, just visible within the building that housed Old Mac's. No vehicles in sight, but it was clear it was doing some sort of investigation, holding up some sort of device as it moved out of sight. Not an option, Victor concluded, not anywhere near brave enough to risk another encounter. For all he knew - and he wouldn't have been surprised for it to be the truth - one Quintesson knew what the others knew, and if he was sighted still out on the streets, he'd be soon joining Joel and Simon against his will.

But he had to do something. Go somewhere. His hand curled against the wall, a grimace spreading over his features as his fingers brushed the scratches

and then he froze, and spread his fingers once more. His head turned, and though the dim light of this shadow, there it was-

The Union Jack. Rough and crude, only recognizable to those who knew such a thing, but - such was the Underground's symbol. Which meant that he was very, very close to one of their entrances, and perhaps desperate times did cause for desperate measures. Victor could have laughed, feeling just a bit hysterical - for what, indeed, were his options?

Perhaps they'd simply take his gear and throw him out on the street. Odds were, though, they could still use it better than he had. Steeling himself, Victor followed the wall until he'd found a small stairway, and another Jack on the wall - and without any further hesitation, strode in to the depths.

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Warmth

Pairing: Alpha Beefy Bucky x Female Mutant Reader

Summary: Being paired off with Bucky Barnes on a mission was hard enough. Hell, the two of you being a part of Hydra a long time ago was already hard enough. But when the two of you are forced to seek shelter in an Avengers safehouse, it gets even worse.

Because there's only one freaking bed.

Will you survive the night with the grumpy Alpha by your side? Or will you rip your hair out?

Who knows. The nights are unpredictable.

What you do know is, is that Bucky Barnes is too fucking hot for his damn good.

Maybe you just might pull your hair out.

Warnings: Heavy A/B/O dynamics. Mentions of past torture from Hydra for both Bucky and the Reader. This Bucky is sort of a mix between CW!Bucky, (hence the beefy!Bucky), but also TFATWS!Bucky bc I love grumpy old man, sassy Bucky. Some angst/hurt/comfort, because I'm a hoe for angst. No heats/ruts in this lil fic, just good ole rough smut. Some biting and some mild blood too. This sex would be considered unprotected irl, but in the a/b/o verse, I don't think you'd need protection??? Who knows. Italics are for when Bucky and the Reader are talking in Russian. The Reader also has a nightmare, which ties back in with the whole mention of past torture from Hydra. If I missed any other warnings in this, let me know and I'll make sure to add them!

Additional Notes: This was written for @agentofbarnes's writing challenge! Congrats on 7k, Zee! I'm sorry this took so long. I started writing this in July, and let it marinate for far too long. But it's here now. I hope you enjoy!

All writing mistakes in this fic are mine, as usual.

Word Count: 4,602

Hell.

This was absolute pure fucking hell.

As you and the former Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes himself stared at the front door of one of the safehouses for the Avengers in case of emergencies, you couldn't help make eye contact with him.

Great. This was just great.

No one, not even Clint had told you that it would be snowing in freaking January in rural Ohio, of all places.

Then again, you had faintly remembered doing gymnastics before you had been taken by Hydra with some arrogant Alpha guy named Lance. He had been a real pain in your ass and you remembered you had made him cry once. After you had escaped from Hydra, you had bumped into him again. Funnily enough, he was still just as scared of you as he was all those years ago. Which, you know, was nice.

But what was not nice was the Alpha that was currently looking back at you. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, Buck, White Panther, Jesus, Bionic Staring Machine- (the last three nicknames, all given to him by the Alpha Sam Wilson himself), scowled at you. His blue eyes even narrowed at you.

You wouldn't call what you and Bucky had a friendship. You two weren't even enemies. Heck, colleagues? Teammates? That was just putting it lightly, the relationship you had with the Alpha. Even when you had been captured and brainwashed into serving Hydra, the two of you had never crossed paths. It had been only after Hydra had fallen, did the two of you actually meet in person. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Nope. No with a capital N.O.

"Come on, let's go." Bucky all but grumbled. Realizing he didn't have the key to get inside, he looked at you. Like you had the key or something.

"James, I don't have the key." Bucky groaned. "Do you have a bobby pin, Omega? Something?" He asked in Russian. You plucked a bobby pin from your hair. A stray piece of hair fell. Putting the flat side in, you managed to unlock the door. You turned to look at him, giving him a toothy grin.

"Learned that from Pit Pocketing for Dummies, 101."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. You just sniggered as you opened the door, greeted by cool air smacking against your face.

It made you shiver.

Because, unlike Bucky, you did not have any of that good ole supersoldier serum in your veins.

You were a mutant that could control water. Sometimes, you wished that you had the ability to control fire, because then, at least you could be warm in such dire situations such as these.

Taking your shoes off and putting them at the door, you surveyed the place.

It was a small house. Like a cozy little cottage. Probably only had at least two rooms at the max. It certainly gave off that vibe. There was a fireplace in the living room. A fully furnished kitchen, complete with a little wooden table with benches instead of individual chairs near the window.

Your grip on your bag of clothes became tighter as you realized that you needed to take a shower. Your stomach grumbled, alerting Bucky that you were hungry. Your comms had died. The two of you could contact no one until you charged them.

Which meant for at least tonight, or whenever the snowstorm outside stopped, you only had Bucky Barnes for company.

Well. That certainly would be pleasant.

"Go and shower first. I'll make dinner."

***

After your shower, you walked back into the kitchen, your sweet smell that reminded Bucky of deserts that his Ma used to make for him and his younger sisters back in Brooklyn drifted towards his nose. Thanks to the serum, he had already smelled it a mile away.

Cinamon rolls. Apple turnovers. Apple pies. Pumpkin pies. Bucky felt his Alpha rumble at the smell. Even Winter stirred at the familiar scent he loved so much.

When Bucky had gotten the trigger words wiped away from him due to Princess Shuri's genius, the Winter Soldier hadn't gone away from him. Rather, Winter had become a part of Bucky. Winter had been what Bucky became to survive Hydra. Winter was Bucky, only darker. More possessive. The deepest, darkest thing of him that the Wakandan Elders had helped him find again and reconcile with.

It was during times like this, making dinner in the kitchen that reminded him so much of his time back in Wakanda. Taking care of his farm and his pet goats, (that he sadly couldn't bring back with him when coming back to America), that he missed the most. It was domestic, in a way. He could almost feed into the fantasy, the thought that you were his Omega, his Bondmate, and that he was just making dinner for you.

From an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like Bucky didn't like you. That he just tolerated you. Treated you like how he treated everyone else in his life.

But it was the contrary.

He liked you.

He liked you very, very much. Other than Steve, Natalia, and heck, even the winged pigeon- you were one of the only people to truly understand him. You were probably even on the same playing field as Natalia, because you knew what it was like to be controlled by the Russian government. You held him at an arm's length at most, and you never treated him like he was some fragile, broken man. When you treated his wounds, you never fretted like other Omega's. Nor did you dottle. Ask him if he was okay every five seconds. It was disappointing in a way.

Bucky turned his head, just as you hopped yourself onto the counter, away from the conduction stove.

The smell of butter pasta was filling your nose. You watched with rapt attention as Bucky shut off the stove, grabbed the freshly grated cheese, and dumping it in. To hell with calories. Stirring quickly for a few seconds, he stopped. Turning his head to look at you, he gave you a low smirk. His scent of something sandalwood, oceany filling your nose. It made your Omega preen.

"Get some bowls, will ya doll? And forks too." Hopping off of the countertops, he heard a chirping, yet sarcastic reply.

"Yes, Sarge."

He felt his pants tighten at the thought. Hearing you grab all of the stuff, he swallowed.

Not that he would tell you that.

No.

Never.

***

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking with me."

So, as luck would have it. There weren't two bedrooms.

Nope.

There was only one.

Not only that, the entire room was fully furnished. A closet was on the left side of the door, against the wall. There was a window and just a bit to right, in the middle of the room, was a queen-sized bed, all made up with all the fluffiest blankets, comforters, and pillows imaginable.

"And you're sure this is the only room?" Bucky said. "Yeah! It's the only one, James. It's either this or the couch. And I'm not sleeping on the couch. It's too cold. Whoever built this safehouse didn't have any heaters built in either. Fuck, is this how I die? Freezing to death?" Your voice was getting higher with concern.

Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"No, doll. You're not to freeze to death. We're going to share that bed."

You turned your head towards him like he had just grown a second head. "What?" you exclaimed. "No. No, no, no. Noooo. James. Nu-uh. Uh-uh. I'm not going to sleep with you in my tank top and underwear. the least you've seen me in is a pair of short shorts and a tank top."

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Get yourself together Barnes.

Don't throw her over your shoulder.

Don't do that.

"You're a water mutant, doll. You're not a fire mutant. You aren't a supersoldier either. I'm not letting you freeze to death. I'll keep you warm all night. Better yet, don't sleep in your tank top and shorts. Our body heats will do just fine." Bucky snapped at you. You were still trying to collect your thoughts.

And then the realization, the reality of your situation, smacked you right across the face.

Bucky was asking you to sleep naked.

With him.

In the same frigging bed together.

Oh you were going to die. You were going to die and go up to wherever other spirits went to after they died. You weren't really all that religious nor spiritual.

But tonight though?

Yeah. Maybe you believed. Maybe a little.

Just the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay," you grumbled, "I won't wear any clothes. Better yet, I'll even give you a show. That'll even out the odds, James."

***

Warm.

He was just oh so warm.

Your back was flush against his front, feeling skin-on-skin.

You had stopped shivering about an hour ago.

Bucky had scouted the safehouse, to see if there was actually a heater, in case you had missed anything.

Nope.

There were no heaters in the safehouse.

Absolutely none.

Not to mention, all of the blankets weren't as thick. From what Bucky had observed a few hours ago after dinner while you had tackled the task of doing the dishes, was that the safe house had been abandoned for a while. It was either that, or nobody had stocked this place up for a while.

He had chosen the latter.

With his strong arms wrapped around your stomach, he pulled you close. You were asleep. Dead asleep. Bucky felt and saw your body rise up and down as you slept, your breaths all evened out.

It was nice, almost. Outside was quiet. Bucky could hear other than your breathing only the soft wind blowing due to the snowstorm outside.

For a moment, Bucky was lulled into a sense of calm. His mind was clear. His Alpha and Winter were quiet. He didn't have to fret. Or look over his shoulder. Didn't have to second guess himself or his actions anymore.

And then he heard it.

Soft whimpers coming from the sweet-smelling Omega that he was currently holding in his arms. You had begun to squirm, arms thrashing out. Your legs smacked on his knees, trying to desperately claw yourself free from his tightening grip on you.

"... I'll be good... just don't chuck me in the freezer again... please sir... I hate it there... please don't chuck me in the freezer, please..." you were sobbing in your sleep. You started to blubber, continually trying to claw yourself out of Bucky's grip. The metal plates of his Vibrainum arm shifted as his metal fingers tightened around your stomach. Bucky knew not to apply too much pressure on you- you weren't like him, Steve, or Natalia. You didn't have the serum in you.

"Doll? Hey, doll. C'mon, wake up. It's not real." Bucky tried shaking you awake to no avail. You had continued to thrash in his arms.

Sniffling loudly, your Omega was thrashing in her cage, in the confines of your mind. She was whispering, yelling at you to wake up.

"Omega. Wake up."

Bucky didn't mean to use his Tone. But you were being so hysterical, shaking, and crying to the point where it was beginning to worry him. Your sweet scent had begun to twist and turn into something more burnt. Singed. It made his eyes water.

You stopped thrashing in his grip. Your body froze up at his use of his Tone. Your Omega stopped throwing her temper tantrum too. She had paused for a second.

Her Alpha had given her a Command.

So why wouldn't she listen?

Peering from her cage in the confines of your mind, she sighed happily.

Alpha. Alpha cares about us. She whispered in your ear.

Slowly returning to consciousness, you struggled to know where you were for a second.

You had been having a nightmare.

A full-fledged nightmare.

You hadn't had one of those in a while.

"... Where am I?" Your voice was gentle but confused.

You still didn't know if you were still in that godforsaken Hydra facility or not. But you just wanted to make sure.

"Here, doll. You're here with me. We're in Ohio, remember? Sharin' one bed together cause I don't wanna be a bad Alpha and letcha freeze to death." Bucky said.

You couldn't help it. You snuggled into him, hearing a deep rumble coming from his chest. Bucky's Alpha was pleased. Very pleased. Winter was quiet. Which surprised Bucky. The little shit was usually more vocal about his own needs these days.

For a moment, it felt okay. You felt that weird fog lifting. Your brain slowly settling in your current surroundings. Your sweet, filling scent that had twisted and burnt into something smoky and burnt was slowly wearing off.

You were still a little shaken up. You could still hear your screaming echoing in your head. Your voice trembling, and because you didn't know if you were still stuck in the facility, "How long?"

"Not long."

Bucky watched as you lifted your head up, blinking once. And then twice. And then again, just to be sure.

Your body felt like it still wasn't physically here. Your body still felt like it was back in the cryo chamber, stuck in that damn freezer. Bucky watched your chest heave up and down. Taking in deep breaths.

Then you flopped right back into your previous spot, your back facing his front. Bucky pulled you back with his metal arm. You heard the metal plates in his arm readjust and move. You couldn't help it. Your vagina throbbed at the sound. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wiggled a little bit.

A deep rumble had come from Bucky.

The metal-armed Alpha had pushed a little bit of his weight down on you. Making you feel all warm and safe with the sandalwood and salty scent wrapped all around you like a cocoon.

You wiggled up against him again, trying to get comfortable. Your eyes closed.

A deep groan came from Bucky.

Was he asleep?

You stopped moving.

Another groan came from Bucky. His arms were wrapped around you. Not tightly, but still. It was kinda nice in a way. You could feel every muscle on his broad chest against your back.

Maybe Bucky had the right idea to sleep naked after all.

You shifted again. Trying to wiggle out a little out of the embrace.

A deep growl rumbled from Bucky. His grip on you tightened. You squirmed against him again.

Voice gravelly, "Stop moving."

Your eyes flew open.

He was awake.

And you had been-

Letting out a hiss, Bucky pushed his entire weight onto you and grinded his half-hard cock against your ass cheeks. Not even caring about if his entire weight would crush you, because of the serum.

He saw red.

Pure absolute red.

You choked. A needy little whimper filled the room.

Bucky's metal hand traveled down, all the way down to your pussy, his knee pushing your legs apart. You were panting in anticipation, eyes wide as saucers. His metal fingers were shoved deep, all the way to the knuckles. A pitiful whine left your lips. A needy whine too.

When he entered you, a choked sob escaped from your lips. Your hands curled into fists, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the formerly brainwashed assassin let out a growl.

"So sick and tired of you teasin' me," was what the former Winter Soldier growled under his breath, hissing at the way your cunt wrapped around him. Slick was smeared around your inner thighs, and you couldn't help but sob at the feeling of being so full.

Bucky was groaning above you, his hands nearing shaking.

Never had he ever thought he could ever get to do this again.

Because Bucky very much still liked sex. He very much so was a sexual creature. Being inside you gave him flashes of his life before Hydra. It made him remember a much skinner, smaller Steve. A much duller, war-stricken Brooklyn. It made him remember the giggles of Omegas. It made him remember his Ma's cooking growing up. Rebecca's giggles in his ears. Just like the old times.

Not for the first time in his life, he didn't feel trapped.

He felt free.

This was freeing to him.

And when he began to move, position his hips against your back, smacking roughly. Good enough to leave marks in the morning.

Wet, squishing noise echoed noisily every time he bottomed out of you. Every thrust in, filling you, completing you. It sent you gasping and crying out into the pillows. His hands- both metal and flesh, reached under you, to grab ahold of your breasts in a tight grip that only made you sob for more.

"More, more, more, please James, please-"

Something snapped in him.

Broke.

Bucky had never felt this feral before. The last time he felt this feral had been the hours when he first presented.

You whined loudly when he slid out of you, crying out at the empty feeling. Your Omega screeched in alarm.

Why had her Alpha stopped? Why?

Grabbing ahold of your legs, he lifted them up. Before he thrusted back in again, filling you up to the brim. It was deeper than last time, and his cock hit that spongy part. Hit your g-spot so good that you screamed into the pillows.

You were coming. You were coming so fast, that deep coil inside you snapping like a bomb wire being cut that you never got the chance to feel your programs. Your body jolted, spasmed. Your legs lifted off of the bed or at least tried to. Bucky's body weight was still keeping you down. So all you could do was grip the bedsheets when Bucky started to pound into you again, taking all he could.

You couldn't help yourself. You glanced back, just to take a glimpse of him.

James Buchanan Barnes looked downright feral and your pussy clenched around him deeper at the sight. as if she knew.

Every thrust made him go deeper, hitting your cervix every time. It made your second orgasm piggyback off of your first one, sobbing into the pillows. It was only when your second orgasm came, your walls clenching down onto his cock that Bucky's teeth sank into your shoulder, shattering, breaking the skin there. The taste of copper filling his mouth. Bucky let out a grunt as he came. Filling you up with so much of his jizz that he was sure it would drip from you tomorrow morning.

Bucky lifted his mouth from your shoulder.

Pants filled the room as the two of you tried to regain yourselves.

Bucky shifted, moving off of you and lying beside you. His eyes weren't black anymore. They were back to their normal blue. They reminded you of the sea in the morning on a peaceful day.

Your hand came to touch his face. Your hand faltered, trembled though. Because you were nervous.

"It's okay," his voice was deeper, huskier. It made your pussy throb. "You can touch me. It's okay."

Your hands came to touch, cup his jaw. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft. Your lips moved together, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss became deeper. You hadn't expected it to become deeper. You had been just going for an innocent kiss.

You swore.

Like- you really did.

You didn't expect to be fully making out with James Buchanan Barnes.

But it wasn't like you were complaining though.

Because you weren't.

Bucky was the first one to pull away. He could see how red, bruised your lips looked. He didn't recoil from your gentle touch on his face. He welcomed it. He truly did. Hands holding your hips, he looked at you.

His lips traveled down to your mating gland. He touched over it with his tongue, giving it a broad lick. His teeth sank in, piercing the skin.

Your ears popped. You cried out. His grip on your hips didn't falter.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasped. Bucky lifted his mouth up from your gland, before sinking his teeth back in and biting again. Making his mark all that deeper.

It was only when he lifted his mouth from your gland, wiped your blood off of him with the blanket did you come at him, sinking your teeth into his gland. It made him grunt, even groan. His flesh hand came to your head, pushing your head down, making you sink your teeth even deeper into his gland.

"Yesss," hissed Bucky, his flesh hand sinking into your hair, gripping it. "Deeper, doll. Go deeper."

Winter and his Alpha completely agreed.

Theirs.

You were theirs.

After what seemed an eternity, you lifted your head up. Wiping your mouth on the blanket, you spoke.

"I missed you. What did you do to get us paired on this mission? I thought I was going with Sam," you said to your Alpha. A smirk stretched over Bucky's lips. "Ah," your Alpha said, still smirking, "I might've put something in his drink to make him vomit his guts out. He got sick."

A noise came from you.

"You gave him food poisoning? James!" You scolded him. Bucky leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry doll, it'll wear off when we come back to the Compound. Bird Brain won't even know what hit him."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, Sasha. Did you teach Natalia that trick, too? Hmm? She and all of your Widow students?"

Bucky was still grinning ear to ear at you when he responded back.

"Well little bird, someone had to teach them. After all, I was their teacher. They all called me Yasha. Speaking of my Widow students..." he trailed off in Russian. You looked at him.

"You've contacted one of the KBG? About that leaked Russian tape with the orange man that is, unfortunately, our President?" He asked you. You nodded. "Yeah, Sasha. Everything's going as planned. Although, I think assassinating the orange man would've been a much better option. We would've gone in there and made it a done deal by now! Fuckin' Steve and his righteous self." You grumbled unhappily.

"Hmm. It would've been great as a date night. Don't you think, doll?" Bucky drawled. You gave a serious nod.

"Although... seeing him freak out on Twitter is much, much better. The tea is better when it's hot." You grinned. Bucky just let out a sigh.

"I'm restricting your phone privileges. And your TV privileges. You need to stop watching those drama channels, Mega."

A noise of deep discomfort came from you.

"Sasha!" you whined, "then what will I do while you're gone on missions?"

"Wait for me to come back?" Bucky suggested. You just sighed. Even shook your head in fondest. You happily snuggled up to your Alpha, your nose rubbing up against your Mate's gland. "I always wait for you to come back, Sasha. I wait and I worry. I love you, James."

A deep rumble came from your Mate.

"I love you too, Little Omega."

Your head peeked up.

"So, can we tell the rest of the team when I leak the tape?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with mischief.

Bucky burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes, yes. We can tell them once you've wreaked havoc, Omega."

"Good." You were nodding seriously, in complete agreement. "It'll be fun. And... also, I forgot to tell you."

The joyful expression on Bucky's face was suddenly replaced with one of worry.

"What? What is it?" He asked gently. "When you were gone for your last mission two months ago... I... I came off of my suppressants. I'm ready, James. I want a family with you."

Shock flickered over Bucky's face. And then he was shoving you back into the bed with a shriek coming from you.

"When's your pre-heat?" He demanded.

You felt it. A cramp. It made you whimper.

"N-Now, James. Now," you stammered. Your Alpha pulled your legs apart roughly before he thrusted back into you, making you gasp.

"Say it," he hissed. "Say you want it. Say you want my knot. Say you want my pups."

"I want it, James." Your voice was a low whisper, even staggering a little bit. "I want your knot. I want your pups. Please. Please, Sasha."

His hands, both metal, and flesh gripped your shoulder tight as that vein of his neck nearly popped. His eyes were black with want. Soon, his Rut would be upon him and he'd breed you. Put his pup in you. You'd carry his pup. He'd have the pack that Winter and his Alpha desperately wanted after all these years.

A whine came from you when he pulled out, only to let out a scream when he thrusted back in. Hitting that part of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

His pace was brutal, not even letting you hold onto him. Your hands were left to grip the bedsheets again. You gripped them so tight that your knuckles turned white and you thought that they were going to pop.

Bucky continued to push, continued to shove his ejaculate deeper and deeper inside of you. A mixture of your slick and his ejaculate smeared all over your thighs and trickled down your legs, and you just didn't know what was happening. Your hindbrain was telling you that this was what was needed. That your designation wanted, nay, demanded this. After all the shit you had gone through, your Omega had found her Alpha and now, now she was determined to have a family. Have the pack she desperately desired.

"Mine."

A harsh thrust made you sob.

"You're mine now. I waited for you for so long. Wanted you for so long. You're mine now. Got my Mark. Got my clothes in your nest. Gonna give you my name. Gonna give you my pups. You're mine. All mine. Say you're mine. Say it!"

You came screaming. Your orgasm making you see white. Bucky continued slamming into you, the wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy becoming louder and louder the more he pushed in. Your teeth sank into his flesh shoulder, shattering and piercing the skin there. You tasted copper in your mouth.

Bucky came with a shout. He shoved you back completely, making you shriek. And then he was leaning in again, sinking his teeth into your gland. Making another deep mark. It made you fall limp into the bed as his knot swelled, locking the two of you in place.

He lifted his head.

Being inside you... knotted inside of you... it was bliss. It was just as good as cockwarming. His cock all nestled deep inside of you whenever you two would sneak off to sleep together.

"Bite me again. Give me your mark, Omega." he panted. Slowly, your head went up, you slowly sat up, before taking in a deep breath and sinking your teeth back into his gland.

Home.

You had brought Bucky home. He held you tight, whispering in your ear how much he loved you and how much of a good Omega you were.

"I love you Omega." His voice was rough.

Lifting your head from his gland. Blood still trickling down the corners of your mouth. You offered him a smile. A genuine one. One that made his stomach all fluttery.

"I love you too, Alpha."

[wh0lemilk0vich]

With Halloween around the corner let me tell you about one of my favorite things to write and think about, monster-boys!gallavich

CW: hard Vore (just in case under the cut)

So I loooooove monster-boys and monsterfuckers and I have this headcanon verse of vampire!Ian and were-bear/wolf! Mickey. Like I imagine them living in this huge plush mansion and Mickey basically an overgrown pet who grows and gets massively hungry around the full moon. So vamp!Ian will hunt at bars and find guys to take back and feed to big mean monster. Like the way I see it Mickey's like a big maybe 350 in human form but he has a half shifter form that's like a foot taller and fatter and then when he's fully transformed he's like a vaguely humanoid dire-bear. So Ian will let out his trapped little playthings in a hedge maze and let monster mickey chase them around and eat them up, and when he transforms back into his boy shape, he ends up really big and fat until he starts to metabolize it and get hungry for the next moon. Ian likes sex after his feedings cause Mickey's super docile and pliable and he likes to praise and reward him for being a good boy and just play with all his new blubber. (And maybe Ian starts keeping boys in a dungeon and fattening them up to be more satisfying and filling for mickey as he grows and requires more). Like this image by sweetpsuedopod

[shadowsong26fic]

Index Post

This list will be updated as and when I remember to. My fanfiction is primarily hosted on AO3 (though I do have an old FFN account if you can find it), but I figured this would be a good idea/make things easier to find, especially for the content that’s Tumblr-exclusive, as well as my original fiction which is hosted elsewhere.

Stories marked with an * are complete.

My AO3

Star Wars:

Precipice

An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall.

…well, that’s where it starts, anyway. Our Heroes reunite with some old friends and pick up some new ones; Sidious find substitute apprentices…the story continues on for several years after the breakpoint, with the Rebellion gradually taking shape and the twins growing up, as well.

Content warnings for war, genocide, strongly implied child abuse (not from any of Our Heroes; Palpatine is raising a child), the Emperor is a POV character.

On AO3

Bonus Fic 1: Father’s Day; Untitled*

Bonus Fic 2: 100k; Margins*

Bonus Fic 3: One Year Anniversary; Secrets*

Bonus Fic 4: Valentine’s Day; All My Love, - A*

Bonus Fic 5: Mother’s Day; Untitled*

Meta, answered asks, deleted scenes, etc., can be found in the Precipice Verse tag

Updates (theoretically/ideally) approximately once every week/two weeks, usually somewhere between Thursday and Sunday night.

I have been on semi-hiatus for the past few months due to getting super-busy at work and then Moving, but I’m planning to get back on track for June, so we should be back to regular updates in the near future! ::...knocks on wood::

Distaff

In which Anakin Skywalker is a cis lady and the twins' gestating parent.

This story’s working title was The Crack AU That Takes Itself Too Seriously. In essence, Anakin Skywalker is a cis girl. So is Padme. Anakin still somehow gets pregnant. She is very confused. Everyone is very confused. And then ROTS happens...

Content warnings for war/violence; also, while no one is, has been, or will be assaulted, the topic of sexual assault does come up a couple times. I believe I’ve left a note on all the chapters where it comes up.

On AO3

Bonus Fic: Mother’s Day; Untitled*

Meta, answered asks, etc., can be found in the Distaff tag

Updates as and when I complete material, does not have a fixed schedule.

Masks

A near-canon AU in which Emperor Palpatine has a daughter.

An In Spite of a Nail AU, for the most part; though I tend to operate in a blended Legends/official canon. For those of you who follow Precipice, this is essentially Lavinia’s story if she existed in a canon-aligned timeline, rather than a true AU.

On AO3

Meta, answered asks, etc., can be found in the Masks Verse tag

CURRENTLY ON HIATUS

Auxiliaries

This is an AU in which Queen Amidala’s ship stopped someplace other than Tatooine for repairs. (The rest of TPM goes basically as in canon–someone else blew up the control ship, I’m sort of handwaving that detail, at least for now).

Eventual ObiAniDala; either Anakin-centered vee or full triad, I haven’t decided. There will also be at least one key OC involved, though I haven’t actually introduced her yet. This is the most divergent timeline I’ve written (or probably will write) for SW, but I have a lot of fun with it.

Auxiliaries is a little different from how my other stories are structured, in that it’ll be told as a series of short fics/vignettes in the overall AU (the title of which will be explained in later sections), not necessarily in chronological order.

General content warnings for war/violence/slavery; anything else that comes up in a specific story will be tagged accordingly.

A Day at the Races: Part One; Part Two [upcoming]; Part Three [upcoming]

                  Around three years after the Naboo Crisis, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is sent on a mission to Malastare, and meets a certain champion podracer for the first time…

Bout*

              Five years after meeting Anakin Skywalker on Malastare, Obi-Wan is back at the Temple, observing a senior initiate saber class.

Updates as and when I complete material, does not have a fixed schedule.

The Phoenix

About halfway between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, Luke and Vader crash onto a planet that is essentially a typical fantasy world.

A crossover with my original fantasy world, The Farglass Cycle

Content warnings for some body horror, slavery, impending genocide, some mostly oblique references to previous genocide, other violence.

On AO3*

On Dreamwidth*

In theory, there are two other parts to this story, working titles The Caladrius and The Hercinia. I do intend to put them up eventually and have been poking at them off and on, but do not have an estimated completion/start date or anything at this time. So it’s less a hiatus and more a…waiting for the next season to start, I guess…?

AU Outlines

Heralds of Star Wars (Jedi of Valdemar?)

              Crossover/fusion with the Heralds of Valdemar series.

The Rabbit Hole AU: Part One; Part Two

               Temple-raised Palpatine

Bail Unfucks the Timeline

               Exactly what it says on the tin.

Distaff Variant 1a

               A Distaff AU in which Palpatine’s solution to the problems presented by Anakin’s pregnancy is to poison her and induce a miscarriage because yes I do in fact write AUs for my AUs. CW for discussion of miscarriage/abortion, as well as the same as the main/actual story.

Ventress and Her Tiny Time-Travelling Conscience: Part One; Part Two

               In which ten/twelve-year-old Luke Skywalker walks through a Magic Canyon and lands about a year/year and a half before the end of the Clone Wars.

Everyone Is Time-Travelling and No One Will Admit It

               Okay, okay, so the title is a little bit disingenuous; the entire PT trio is time-travelling (but they’re the only ones), Anakin and Obi-Wan have told each other but no one else, and Padme is keeping things entirely to herself. CW for some portions that could read as suicidal ideation (i.e., the last like ten minutes of the animated BatB movie ‘maybe it’s better this way,’ with a side of Act Five of Cyrano de Bergerac.)

               (Also, I may end up redoing/reworking this one at some point)

Distaff Variant 2

                 A distaff AU in which Anakin decides to go to Utapau with Obi-Wan. Which, if she weren’t, y’know, pregnant, would probably have been the best possible thing for her to do...

Let’s Go Steal a Crossover: Part One (Background); Part Two [Upcoming]

                 A crossover between an AU of Masks!Verse (specifically, the Lavinia Organa AU, the background for which is described in Part One above) and Leverage.

You can also check out the AU Outlines tag

One-Shots:

Sanctuary: Tumblr; AO3*

              Rey wants to find her place in all of this. When she finds a reference to Mortis in one of Luke's books, it seems as good good place as any to start looking…

To his family, send him*

                In a world where Shmi survived, Obi-Wan brings Luke to safety.

It’s Like Déjà Vu (All Over Again)*

                 Three days ago, Padme Amidala closed her eyes for the last time in a sterile white room on an asteroid at the edge of nowhere. Three days ago, she opened them again in a sleek, chrome starship, watching Dorme put the finishing touches on Corde’s headdress, her own weighted braids a comforting blanket on her back.

                Padme decides to change things, decides she can save Anakin this time. Except, as time passes, she starts to realize things aren’t happening exactly the way she remembers…

                   Content warnings for war, violence, referenced genocide, referenced murder, these two dorks and their AOTC angst…

The Magic of Midwinter*

                  A little more than a year after the start of the Clone Wars, Padme, Obi-Wan, and Anakin celebrate Naboo's Midwinter together.

                  Written for JediFest 2017 December Drabbles exchange; Prompt: ObiAniDala, Holiday

These Three Remain*

                  Immediately after the Festival of Light (and Obi-Wan's stint undercover as bounty hunter Rako Hardeen), Anakin and Padme leave Coruscant on impulse, in response to an anonymous tip sent to Padme's office about vital intelligence hidden in a cache of stolen goods. But things go terribly wrong, and they find themselves stranded and injured, with limited resources and no one knowing exactly where they are.

                  Meanwhile, back on Coruscant, when Padme and Anakin don't return as planned, Obi-Wan does everything he can to find them and bring them home.

                  Their situation, dire though it is, forces the three of them to process everything that just happened, and what it might mean for their relationship, moving forward.

                     Written for SWBB 2018.

Untitled Mother’s Day Ficlet*

                       Quick, meditative little ficlet about Shmi and Anakin and lullabyes/bedtime stories.

Original Fiction:

The Farglass Cycle

This one is very difficult to summarize. It’s a big, sprawling fantasy world with loads and loads of characters. The main plot has to do with a war with Feredar, one of the major nations on the continent. Principal characters involve certain members of the Feredar royal family, members of the royal family of the City of Glass, who are primarily fire-mages; a water-mage pirate captain and her lover and sister; a water-mage who was held captive in Feredar...The war is kicked off when a prince from Glass goes into Feredar as a spy, to find out if the situation there regarding the enslavement of mages is serious enough to justify a war.

Content warnings for war, violence, slavery, impending genocide. There’s also a serial killer subplot, and some espionage and murder.

(...I need to get better at summarizing things...)

This archive, as a note, is incredibly out of date—I think I last updated it in December of 2014.

Lux

It’s the thirtieth century, and the Biblical Apocalypse is about to begin. Translator Mariko Anders gets swept up in the action when she meets and falls in love with the titular Lux, an Alien whose species she can’t quite identify. There’s also an immortal wandering around who periodically gets his memories erased, a sprawling human Family that traces itself back a thousand years, the newly-awakened Horsemen, the Antichrist and the Second Coming are growing up in hiding, and, of course, angels—some terrifying, some warm, some a little bit of both.

Basically: the Apocalypse. In Space.

(With lesbians.)

(Archive last updated in December of 2014.)

Battlestar Galactica:

Serenissima

Joseph Adama is the Doge of Venice, which is in graceful decline from its peak of maritime economic and naval power. His younger grandson, Zak, has recently eloped to King Louis' court in France with one Kara Thrace, and a dangerous politician, Thomas Zarek, is soon to return from a twenty-year exile related to the untimely death of a previous Doge.

Between Don Zarek's imminent return and the likely imminent increase in the Serene Republic's long-standing rivalry with the Ottoman Empire, Doge Adama wants to shore up a few alliances. He arranges for Laura Roslin, a widowed noblewoman, to marry his similarly-widowed son, Commander William Adama. His elder grandson, Lee Adama, is likewise engaged to the young daughter of Cardinal Gaius Baltar. The first wedding is to take place immediately, the second in approximately a year.

In Istanbul, the Sultan, John Cavil, is indeed scheming and preparing to launch a massive attack on Venice, while internal politics within his own family and court may not be quite as clear-cut as he thinks.There are spies everywhere, and nothing is certain but that looming problems foreign and domestic promise trouble for the Serene Republic in days to come...

A Total AU set in Baroque Venice, somewhere between 1650 and 1750. One key OC is involved, because I like my OCs. Cowritten with tigerkat24.

Currently more or less on hiatus.

For Sorrow Sung

Nineteen days before Baltar's trial is set to begin, a teenage girl is shot just outside of Dogsville. Helo investigates.

CURRENTLY ON HIATUS

Nothing AO3; Livejournal*

Alternate ending to Crossroads: you never know how you'll meet the end until there's nowhere left to run.

End of Line*

Poetry; stream-of-consciousness in prison, persona poem.

[I believe that’s everything I actually posted; I may update this if I find something else digging through my archives. I know I wrote some bits that I never posted anywhere for various reasons]

Supernatural:

Note: I’ve more or less fallen out of this fandom, so pretty much everything listed here can be considered on semi-permanent hiatus; though I’m happy to discuss them if anyone’s interested.

Heaven on Their Minds

An In Spite of a Nail AU where Judas Iscariot is a key player.

Arc One: Livejournal; AO3*

                  While Castiel tracks Crowley down, looking for the Colt, Bobby finds a reference to a Weapon that can banish anything. Seeing a shot at a Plan B, Sam and Dean go to meet with a professor who might be able to help them track it down. From there, they are put on the trail of Judas Iscariot, who is not exactly what history claimed he was.

Arc Two*

                  It's been eighteen months since Lucifer and Michael were trapped in the Cage, and Sam now has his soul back at last, but things aren't going as smoothly as hoped. With the war between Raphael and Castiel heating up, Gabriel scrambling to keep his old lies from coming back to haunt him, Judas AWOL, and whispers about Purgatory floating around, it isn't going to be easy to keep things from totally falling apart at the seams. Again.

                  Then, one day, Dean gets a call from Jo about an old friend wandering back into their lives...

Arc Three*

                  Gabriel is struggling to control the chaos in Heaven in the wake of Castiel’s destruction. Meanwhile, with Castiel gone, his wall gone, Lucifer and Leviathan everywhere, Sam gets closer to Judas. After all, no one knows psychic pain, and guilt, and the long, hard road to redemption, better than the two of them.

Sidestories

                  These are bits and pieces that take place in the Heaven on Their Minds universe, but, for various reasons, didn’t make it into the main story. All of the ones up there take place either prior to or during Arc One, but reference a significant spoiler.

There were further arcs planned, but I don’t anticipate them turning up, due to the aforementioned falling out of the fandom.

The Promises of Angels: Livejournal; AO3*

Nick has never been anything more than a pawn, and he knows that--but even a pawn, strategically placed, can change the game for everyone.

It's a world full of angels, demons, and humans all fighting for control of the board. And while all he's really playing for is what he was promised in the first place--peace that never seems to come--Nick finds himself dragged back into a high-stakes game he can't afford to lose. No matter how much he wants to break free, it becomes increasingly clear that something buried deep inside him has changed, in ways he can't possibly understand; ways that just might keep him involved in the horrors that Heaven and Hell both inflict on humanity and, in the end, make things better--or worse. Along the way, there are friends and foes, wardens and protectors, and those who would try to use him to shape the future they want to see...

This is canon compliant until, depending on how you’re counting, Swan Song or Goodbye, Stranger; most of what happens up through Goodbye, Stranger could theoretically happen alongside canon events/doesn’t contradict anything we see onscreen, but sets up the significant AU from that point on.

There were originally sequels planned, but as I’ve largely fallen out of this fandom, I doubt they’ll materialize.

Cartography Verse

Named for the Seanan McGuire song.

Moving On*

                  While Dean is in Purgatory and Sam is in Texas, Jody joins a grief support group and stumbles onto a case. Canon-compliant through 10x23.

Compliance*

                  Three years after meeting Nick, Jody learns the rest of his story. Canon-compliant through 10x23.

Fragments: Livejournal; AO3*

                  In an attempt to talk Sam out of seeking Lucifer’s help with the Darkness, Dean tracks down the next best thing on Earth--Nick. As it turns out, he’s closer than they think, and the trace of Grace left in him when he was dispossessed may be vital to defeating the Darkness. Unfortunately, Sam and Dean are not the only ones chasing Archangel fragments, and at least one other person on the trail seems willing to kill Nick to get what they need...

the summers die; one by one: Livejournal; AO3*

                  The aftermath of Hammer of the Gods. CW for discussion of canonical character death.

Avatar: the Last Airbender

UNDER CONSTRUCTION. I’ve more or less fallen out of this fandom, as well, though there’s a chance I’ll get back to it at some point. Almost everything I wrote was one-shots, and they’re scattered around in several different places. I don’t expect to put out any new content in this fandom for the foreseeable future.

I’ll probably dig around and put together a specific link list at some point, but for now, a lot of it is on AO3, some of it is on my LJ, under the avatar tag 

Miscellania

Lighter than a Feather*

               Wheel of Time fanfic;  The night after Rand and Nynaeve cleanse the taint from saidin, Mazrim Taim goes to deal with an Asha'man who recently snapped. CW for murder and saidin-taint madness. Some alternate character interpretations, as well. Spoilers through Winter’s Heart.

              This was originally going to be the springoff point for a much longer AU. I don’t know if I’ll ever write it, even if I fall back into this fandom, but I may take some of the concepts/plans and file the serial numbers off for an original fantasy story.

The Epic Crossover RP OF DOOM

               (I linked the Tumblr tag because it’s easier)

               A crossover between Precipice, Marvel/MCU, BSG, The West Wing, Castle (technically), Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, The Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries, Thin Man, Thrilling Adventure Hour: Beyond Belief, and The Phantom of the Opera.

               Cowritten/RP’d with tigerkat24. OCs abound.

The Blood to be Repaid*

               A crossover between The Farglass Cycle and Pirates of the Carribean

Support of Family*

               Sequel to The Blood to be Repaid

The Hands of Cain*

               A crossover between The Farglass Cycle and Criminal Minds

[mxndwitch]

                              CANON AVENGERS MCU VERSES

The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children ( pre AOU ) This verse is set before the events of Age of Ultron, including Wanda’s and Pietro’s childhood, as well as their time with Hydra.

The hero dies in this one ( AOU ) Set during the events of Age of Ultron, potentially also depicting the days leading up to it.

What would I give if I could live one more day with you ( post AOU ) Everything that takes place between Age of Ultron and Civil War, including Wanda’s beginning with the Avengers, Pietro’s loss, training and getting used to living in America

Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy ( Civil War ) This verse recapitulates the events shown in Civil War, dealing with the Accords, Wanda’s mistake and the dire consequences for the Avengers.

Learning to live again ( post CW ) The two year time gap between Civil War and Infinity war. Everything that happens during Wanda’s time on the run, her separation from the team, living in Scotland and getting used to a new life. NOTE: I do NOT ship Vision and Wanda necessarily ( only if it has been plotted and there has been chemistry ), so my verses will NOT include him in her time in Scotland as a love interest.

From the ashes we will rise ( IW ) Everything that takes place during Infinity War can be found here, up to the moment Thanos snaps his finger and everyone we love died.

The remains of the day ( post IW AU ) An AU in which Wanda was not one of the people who disintegrated during the end battle, but is left with the rest of the survivors to brave a new world and find solutions to the problem that is Thanos.

These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence ( future post IW  ) My current MAIN future verse, where Wanda returns from the dead and has the chance to continue her life

[sparksintheashes]

melody in static; chapter 15

previous . index . next

what u should know;

@tiesthatbind-tf verse, quintesson-era [1930s]

cw; Description of infection.

THAT'S IT, WE DONE FOR THE YEAR. Yes it's arguably another cliffhanger but arc 3 WILL happen, and I am a very tired/drained bean so if I do any writing it's going straight to buffer. >8U

Once again thanks to @artsy-hobbitses for letting me play in the sandbox. I hope I haven't broken anything. 8')

A full day later, and Victor had not awoken. 

That alone was not surprising, and given the fact that the flesh about his wound was red and inflamed? Perhaps it was for the best. But as Pravda and Owais searched through the Spire, first ensuring that there were no Quintessons en route to reclaim it anytime soon - a quick connection through Primus ensured that things were, for the moment, safe. That said, there had apparently been a move to try and catch some of Titanomachia's activities; they had miraculously pulled back some days in advance, reportedly, due to a 'timely warning'. 

Pravda didn't realize how timely until she had reported Victor's status to Primus and Aillard, and heard a long stretch of silence on the other end. She waited patiently, knowing her friends would tell her if they were ready...but she hadn't expected what they were going to say.

"He did what?" 

Primus's voice was ever-calm, ever-serene, despite the dire news of their companions' injuries. The stronger connection through the Quintessons' systems allowed a full audio link, much like a telephone; still, she could only imagine Primus's expression as they continued their explanation. "Traveled through time as well as space to warn us of Soner's machinations. I would expect the stress of the journey has led, in some part, to his deep sleep."

"And you did not think to tell me he could do this!?"

There was a long exhale on the other end - Aillard, she recognized. "Pravda, from what Primus has told me, this is an extremely delicate ability. In some cases, not knowing something is the best way to utilize it - we could not warn Victor before he had warned us, for example."

"Not without risking paradox," Primus agreed. "And based on the data I possess from previous experiments, such is to be avoided at all costs."

It was Pravda's turn to let out a long, slow breath as she reached up to rub her face. She trusted Primus's judgment, Aillard's too, but she still couldn't help but feel as if she had been kept in the dark. More than she'd realized; with Soner being responsible for many of the troubles and delays along their path, she was berating herself for not having seen the signs, not having been able to protect Victor from him, allowing her own feelings to get in the way…

"Pravda." That was Aillard, and she lowered her hand with a rueful expression. She could all but see her friend before her, giving her one of his soft, understanding expressions. "None of this is your fault. And you said that the...whatever it was, the monstre was dealt with?" 

At her sound of affirmation, Primus took over, voice grim. "There is a high possibility that the creature was, in fact, Soner himself. There are critical failures in the experimentations, especially if one's genetic sequence is still volatile; it is possible that Soner found some sort of trigger to destabilize his own. Killing him was as much a mercy as it was necessary."

At that, she snorted. "He deserved no mercy," she groused, thinking over what they'd told her - what Victor had told them. It was still difficult to imagine that the man had been able to accomplish such a feat. It certainly explained his strained appearance, though that could also be attributed to blood loss…

Speaking of. There was no way to travel quickly, spacebridging aside. Which left a very, very important question to be asked; 

"What do we do with him?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder towards the others. The Beastmen were at home, here in the Spire's vast vivarium, albeit now without a lock on the metaphorical gates; they roamed in and out freely, with efforts being made to connect the ocean level to the ocean itself to allow their kin to fully escape. The question as to what the others were going to do was still in the air; they knew they could only stay here so long. The fact was, Quintesson forces could notice the lack of communication at any moment and come to investigate; the sooner they could fully evacuate, the better. 

But as Owais said, some could not survive on the outside - at least, not yet. And while Primus was certain they could assist with further modifications to allow them to do so, the fact was, Primus had no way of getting here with Victor unconscious.

The situation was well evident to the other two, as well. She could hear Aillard letting out a slow breath of his own, and could easily visualize him rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The Quintesson equipment there might be able to help him," he said, glum despite the suggestion. "But, with all respect, Pravda-" "-I would not dare touch it myself," she agreed. "We would need Primus to manage it." And they'd already established that while Primus could access systems with a remote connection, it was quite another thing entirely to direct the systems in any heavy use. "None of the others here seem as if they could control it, either," she continued, thinking of Aillard's affinity with the tech as her eyes rested on the small shelter that housed Scarlett and Victor. It was clearly meant for two people, and she suspected that she knew the other resident, but for now, she kept such thoughts to herself. 

For now. She would not have a repeat of Soner.

Scarlett had barely left Victor's side since the end of the battle, though her lack of digits made it difficult at best to tend to him; for that, Haytham had assisted, his nimble fingers making light work of the wound tending. But even with what Quintesson resources they could utilize, the flesh was a hot, angry red. A sharp contrast to the rest of the man's pale skin, despite the fever that had risen in him. It seemed all they could do for the moment was to treat him and hope his body could fight off the rest, but…

"I have reached out to Titanomachia," Primus noted. "They are willing to offer shelter and resources if you can get to them, but they dare not risk sending an escort with the Quintessons still looking for them." 

Again, something Victor's abilities would have overcome with ease. Had they begun to rely on him too much? Pravda made a face, glad her expression was hidden for now. Using him, indeed. "I will keep that in mind. We would need a new guide - I am not certain I could lead us back, but perhaps one of the others."

"Keep us updated," Aillard sighed. "We will reach out, as well, if other options arise."

"Of course. Be safe, my friends." Waiting only long enough for their own farewells, Pravda then set down the tablet and leaned back against the tree. Her eyes closed as she tried to imagine the trek back with an injured man; she only had so much knowledge of the condition, but from what she did know, the longer Victor remained unconscious, the less likely it was that he'd wake up. As much as she hoped that she was worrying about nothing and that he'd come to in a few hours, she couldn't dismiss the worst case scenario that he wouldn't wake up.

The guilt was sharp and bitter. Damn you, Soner, she thought, clenching her hand without realizing it. If Owais hadn't trampled him into pulp, she would have pummeled him into it herself. Or charred him with her plasma - one of the two. Perhaps a mixture. It was a cold comfort, but one she clung to nonetheless before opening her eyes as she heard footsteps.

It was Sylvia - the wolf-woman. In her hands was a plate of food, which, while simple fare, still smelt better than Pravda'd had in some time - she was no cook, herself, but it seemed that some of the Beastmen were. Offering a thin smile of thanks, she accepted the serving, then tilted her head at Sylvia gesturing towards a small group holding their own meal.

"Owais would like to hear of your news, when you're ready to share."

Seeing no reason to put it off, Pravda pushed herself up to her feet and joined them. Owais was there, of course, though no others she recognized apart from Sylvia; a younger man who seemed to have been crossed with a hare, a woman that was perhaps some weasel, and another whose animal she couldn't quite make out - some sort of lizard? They all seemed pleasant enough, and Owais himself nodded in greeting before offering introductions.

"Shen, Portia, and Cerma. Pravda." After a moment, he continued, somber; "Shen found Peyman in the walls - we believe Soner may have killed him first." 

Again, more betrayal. She grimaced. "I am sorry to have brought him here," she grumbled, to which Owais waved a hand.

"You say you did not know; I believe you." He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "We will hold a ceremony for him and the other two who fell during the fight, later. Will you be joining us?" She didn't even think about it. "If you would have me. They fought bravely." 

A nod. "We will remember them. What of your own?" He cast a pointed look towards the shelter Pravda had noted before. And as she related what she had gathered - which wasn't much, only that their options were few and they would have to find help as opposed to wait for it to come - he made a thoughtful sound, considering what he himself had at hand. "The people here come from all over; I do not doubt there is someone here who could help, and it is the least we can do to provide an escort of our own."

Pravda let out a slow breath, glad that Owais had brought it up himself. She had been worried that the man would be firmer in blaming her for his losses; perhaps him pulverizing Soner had been for the best. "Thank you," she earnestly said, only for him to offer a dry chuckle in return.

"I doubt Scarlett will leave Victor at this point," he wryly observed, drawing forth a wan smile of Pravda's own. "And while you both fight well, there is more to face out there than Quintessons. Haytham would be invaluable to you, and he has already volunteered." "Haytham?" She tilted her head, thinking of the avian-man...and then, Mina. She slowly nodded in agreement, remembering how useful the scout had been back on the first part of their journey. "If he is willing." "There is something else." 

Speak of the devil. Heads turned towards the voice, and there he was - brown feathers and dark skin broken up by the blue-greens of his tight garb. Most of those here wore loose wrappings, so the fact he had made an effort to keep his as close to his body as possible was curious in itself; perhaps a matter of culture or personal preference. It hardly mattered at the moment; Pravda was more interested in what he had to say, though by the looks of things, he was having trouble finding the words. Still, the group waited patiently as he started, halted a few times, then made a noise of frustration before speaking in another tongue to Owais.

Owais tilted his head and listened patiently before his eyes began to grow wide. He questioned Haytham in return, who nodded and pointed back towards whence he'd come. Owais followed the gesture, narrowing his eyes slightly before nodding and turning his attention back towards the group as Haytham quickly headed off.

"Are you set on Titanomachia?" he asked Pravda. She blinked, considered for a moment, then shook her head.

"Not if there is a closer option." "I do not know about closer, but..." Owais looked at those gathered. "One of our people once studied the workings of Al-Kimiya. A kind of alchemy," he clarified at the puzzled expressions he was given in return. "Though they are long out of practice, they had a fellow student who excelled - and even if she is gone, their teacher might not be." Another quest to seek a possibly-dead figure? Pravda couldn't help but frown at the thought. "I am not eager to rest his life on a 'might'," she admitted, and Owais made a sympathetic noise.

"I thought not - but Iesa has joined us only within the past few months. Until then, they were in close contact - and they were attempting to hybridize the teachings with Quintesson work." 

That changed things. Recent information...Pravda reconsidered. She would have to doublecheck with Aillard and Primus, but from the impression she had gotten, Titanomachia did not have many skilled doctors - that was to say, more than was necessary to keep it alive. Yes, they had scavenged Quintesson technology, but how much of that was more than war-science? But - alchemy? It was hard to overcome a bias, a thought that such was little more than dabbling witchcraft.

...but perhaps that was exactly what they needed, she realized. Something to combat the Quintessons' own. "We would need to speak more," she allowed, "but I would learn about this, yes."

—-------------

After speaking with Iesa, Aillard, Primus, and even Logos - who confirmed Titanomachia's situation - Pravda was left sitting by Victor and watching him rest as she mulled over the options. It had been made clear that this was her decision, and while she did not begrudge such, there was the childlike desire to take someone else and throw it in their hands. To have someone else take responsibility, and if it succeeded, all the better for she cared not for credit. But if they failed…

If Victor died, not only did they lose one of their greatest assets, but she would lose a friend. Oh, she had thought she already had lost him, but that frantic apology, that look in his face when she'd pulled him off the ground - that was the Victor she remembered, that was what had caused her heart to twist with a realization she had not yet understood. And she had lost so very many friends over the years, to lose another as he came back from a place he had not gone to of his own full will...

She looked up as Scarlett seated herself on the man's other side. She, too, was pale, though not nearly as bad as her husband; instead, she was drained for another reason. Which Pravda could understand, but at the same time, as she cast a glance outside the shelter...

"Were you going to tell him?" Pravda couldn't help but ask. Scarlett blinked for a moment, then followed Pravda's gaze - and then let out a slow breath as she closed her eyes.

"I wanted to." She opened them after a long moment, gaze back down at Victor before she began to busy herself with investigating his dressings. "We have...a lot to talk about, and I wouldn't keep it from him. Do you think less of me for it?" she abruptly asked, looking up. 

"For finding someone else? No." Scarlett eased, but only for a moment, as Pravda wasn't done speaking. "For pushing him away...?"

Her smile was bitter, but - it was a smile nonetheless. A tight one, full of pain and regret, and Scarlett dropped her eyes once more. "He told you, did he," she murmured, her claw resting on the cloth. Pravda studied her face for a moment, then moved her hand to gently push Scarlett's aside; it took the other woman a moment to realize what she was doing, but when she did, she allowed Pravda to start undoing the work. It gave her a chance to turn, to reach for the clean cloths, to keep busy as she spoke. "I thought I was saving him. All I could think about back then, was that I needed to protect him, and if they were after me...at least one of us could survive. I didn't know," she added, voice tightening as she shut her eyes once more. "I didn't know they were going to take everybody, I thought...I thought I was saving him," she said again, voice cracking. There was a long pause. Pravda had nothing to say, and so she said nothing; that, and she could tell there was more to this. 

And there it was- "And then, once the changes started happening, once I was moved here...I thought I'd never see him again." Scarlett's voice was a miserable whisper as she slowly, almost numbly offered Pravda the wet rags to clean the wound. "Haytham and I...it's only been a year. Only," she repeated, before almost laughing. "I'd given up that I'd ever see Victor again, and I knew he'd want me to be happy, and I thought- I thought, perhaps if he was still alive, perhaps he knew I'd want him to be happy, too." 

Another stretch of quiet. They finished in silence as Pravda mulled over the words, and if Scarlett was awaiting her judgment, she offered no sign. Still, when Pravda had finished securing the new wrappings, she reached for Scarlett's claw once more.

"I do not think less of you," she began, "but I will if you do not tell him what you have told me, once he wakes up."

Scarlett swallowed. "You think he...?" she asked, not able to finish her hope.

Pravda thought back to what Aillard had told her, to what Primus had told her - and what Victor had told them. And for the first time in a long while, she managed a small - but real - smile of her own. After all, Aillard had mentioned that sometimes ignorance was for the best, and perhaps in some cases this was true. But in this one...

Victor, apparently, had at least one more trip ahead of him. And knowing that gave her a strange sense of hope that she herself hadn't felt in some time - except it wasn't just hope. It was something more.

"I know he will."