#raine's soul is still alive in her somewhere

[lollytea]

You literally CANNOT make a toh tlt au because there is no way you can get everything to make sense. The two universes just do not cooperate. BUT Willow and Gus would make such a good cav and necro duo

[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Ms. Satan

(Kim Bora X Male Reader)

You immediately know it's a dream as soon as you open your eyes. Your body is that of an 18 year old. Standing in front of a large, dark building you feel shivers run down your spine.

Your friends made you do this. A bet. A bet that could earn you 200 bucks. Is it worth it? Maybe not. And yet, here you are. Although you are scared, you still want to find out what's going on in this building.

The cold night air messes up your hair. The stars and the moon seem unusual gloomy.

There are stories of some sort of ghost or witch or something. Hiding in this abandoned building. If the stories are true, no one has gone in there for two years now.

You gulp, the palms of your hands starting to sweat. The huge double doors are covered in yellow tape. "Caution" is written in big black letters all over them.

One of the doors is slightly ajar. Not creepy at all. You try to squeeze through the gap, hoping to not make a sound.

Your backpack feels heavy on your shoulders. You win the bet, when you leave this building tomorrow morning. Hopefully alive. For now, you plan to make your way to the roof, hoping to be able to sleep up there. There shouldn't be so much potential trouble up there. The problem is just getting there.

You hear your steps echo through the empty building as you start to climb the stairs. The bright circle of light from your flashlight illuminates the walls.

A cold breeze rushes through the building. You hear some weird noise further upstairs. You stop in your tracks. It sounded like someone was walking. But the sound is gone now. Maybe that was just your imagination.

You sigh as you reach the first floor. Five more to go. The circle of light keeps dancing on the walls in front of you as you begin the climb for the second floor.

Another sound. Your heart is almost in your throat. After a second you realize it's just rain. Heavy drops hitting the building and some of the broken windows down the hall.

You get a little wet as you climb the stairs, the rain making the steps slippery. But if it rains, you can't sleep on the roof.

You groan in annoyance. Your heart stops. There it is again. The sound somewhere in the building. As if someone is walking.

You ponder if you should just run. Just run for your life without looking back. There is definitely something here. Something that already seems to know about your presence.

You reach the second floor. Your senses heightened. Should you really turn back? But that would be so embarrassing. You just hurt some stuff. Probably just the wind.

You start to take the stairs to the third floor. After a couple of steps, you freeze. Your heart almost stops. The light of your flashlight shows you a scene you never wanted to see.

A woman is sitting on the stairs. Her dark eyes seem cold. And yet they look like they can burn with fire. Her dark hair is held back by a ponytail. Most of her body is covered in a black and orange fur coat. The patterns and colors remind you of lava. Two necklaces are decorating her neck and a huge golden flower ring is slipped on her finger.

The most eye catching are her boots though. They are white and almost reach her knees. The heels look quit high, which makes you think that these can't be comfortable at all. The most disturbing thing is the fact that splashes of blood are on them. Her white boots are covered in blood.

"Hello there, hero."

"Wha-What?"

Her voice sounds sultry. Her eyes seem to stare into your soul as she keeps talking.

"You are the first one after quite a while. I was almost getting bored."

"You.... You live here?"

She chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. For some reason you expected it to sound evil. Like that of a witch.

"Of course not. But I do feel some sort of connection to this place."

You hesitantly nod. She seems nice, but you would argue that her boots say otherwise.

"What's you name, hero?"

"It's-It's (y/n). But why do you keep calling me that?"

The woman chuckles again.

"Only heroes are brave enough to face me."

"Ah."

You nod in fake understanding. This woman seems to be a little out of her mind. Or is this actually something supernatural?

"You are here because you want to feel my warmth though, am I right?"

"Your-Your, sorry, what?"

"My warmth. The people in this area send me dozens of heroes over the last hundreds of years."

What is she talking about? Is she actually that old? But she can't be human then.

"Y-You are here for over a hundred years?"

"Don't young men like you prefer an older woman?"

"What?"

Another chuckle.

"You don't seem to have a clue what's going on."

"I-I don't."

The woman slowly let's her fur coat glide off her shoulders. Her black top is decorated with some lace around her cleavage. The straps show of her naked shoulders. She rests her chin on her hand.

"I will make this night the best of your life."

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Her smile seems a little warmer now then before.

"Come closer."

She motions you with a finger to step towards her. You do so. Her boot is right next to your leg now.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?"

You blush as you shake your head. The woman reaches out. Before you can react, she traces the outlines of your dick with a finger over your jeans.

"Virgins are always the best ones. They are so eager to please."

It seems like she said that to herself.

"Let me see that cock of yours."

She has been staring at it, but is now looking up at you.

"W-What?"

"Come on,boy. Take it out for me."

You gulp. Her voice has become a little deeper. More seductive.

As you open your jeans, you realize that you don't have a choice. As if she is making you do it.

Your pants drop. And a second later, your underwear does the same. The cold air makes you shiver as you are now completely naked from the waist down.

"Not bad."

The woman let's her fingertips dance over your length. You jerk away at first. Her hand is warmer than you expected. It's almost hot.

"What is that? Six inches?"

You nod as she wraps her hand around your cock. As she slowly starts to stroke you, you feel yourself harden.

Your desire to fuck her slowly starts to rise. You were scared at first. But it seems like she really wants this.

"What do you think about making it a little bigger?"

"W-What?"

There is that melodic chuckle again.

"Don't worry. It will only benefit you in the future."

You hesitate before you nod.

Your core starts to heat up and you see your dick starting to grow very slowly. In length and in girth. Six inches become seven, then eight and then nine.

"That's more like it."

The woman stops stroking you. She sticks her tongue out, letting it swirl around your tip.

You groan. You never felt this before.

Her lips slowly wrap around you. Your dick feels heavier than before. She looks up at you as she starts to suck you off. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your shaft as she slowly takes more.

The woman retreats while stroking you again.

"And you taste good, too."

She winks, before sliding your cock into her mouth once more. The warmth heats up your whole body. Her saliva starts to coat your dick as she keeps sliding down your length.

You slowly start to enter her throat. You can feel it by the way her walls tighten around you. There is more friction now. She doesn't stop though. She keeps going and going.

Your eyes are wide in surprise and pleasure. You did watch some videos before, but none of the women were able to do it this easily. Especially without gagging. But for her it seems like a piece of cake.

You slide further down her throat. How is she taking all of that? She looks up at you, when she finally reaches your base. Your whole cock is inside her mouth and throat. Her walls massage your cock as she breaths, making you a little dizzy. How does this feel so good?

You see her using a finger to point at her throat. You crook your head the side. A visible bulge has formed in her throat. A familiar tug starts to build up in your core as you watch her place her hand on her own throat.

You feel the pressure of her hand as she pushes against her throat a little. Needing to tighten your grip on the flashlight you are holding, you try to hold it in. You don't want to cum so fast.

Your head starts to spin as she slowly retreats. Inch after inch leaves her throat and mouth. It's all covered in a thick layer of saliva.

"Does that feel good?"

Her question and her voice sound so innocent. As if she didn't just swallow your whole cock. You nod as she strokes your spit covered cock slowly.

"I think it's time to repay the favour."

She kisses your tip with her plump lips, before standing up.

"Get on your knees for mommy."

You are surprised by her calling herself mommy. And yet it does seem kinda fitting. You do as she says, kneeling down on the stairs.

The woman steps a step down, now standing almost directly above you. You are able to look underneath her black mini skirt. Her black panties have a golden miniature bell in the front.

"You have never eaten pussy, have you?"

You shake your head. You have seen it in the videos though.

"Stick out your tongue."

Once again, you feel as if you don't have choice. Before you can think about it, your tongue already leaves your mouth.

"Such a good boy."

She murmurs, while reaching out with her hand that's decorated with the big ring. Her finger slowly glides over your tongue. You feel it tingle a little, until she removes her finger.

"That should do."

The woman cups your cheek, while looking into your eyes.

"Now eat out mommy."

You reach underneath her skirt. Feeling the light fabric in your hands, you start to pull down her panties. The small bell jingles a little. It's barely audible.

You slide her panties down her legs. When you reach her boots, you fumble around a little, trying to get them over the white material. The fact that there is blood on them has already become unimportant to you.

Once they hit the floor, she steps out of them and kicks them aside. You straighten your back, now able to reach her pussy with your mouth. You are about to have your first taste, when you suddenly feel her hand in your hair. She pulls you back.

"You can't just go in there, honey. You have to start slowly."

You do as she says. You kiss her skin right above her right knee, before switching to the left. Slowly, you make your way up her creamy thighs. Her smooth skin tastes quite good. Not something you expected.

You become hungrier with every second. She sighs as you close in on her pussy, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Now that you are going slower, you can take a good look at her center.

Her pink pussy is hidden behind her folds, her clit barely peeking out. She is cleanly shaven, the skin just as smooth as her legs. You can see her lips glisten with arousal after your exploration of her thighs.

"Oh damn!"

She moans as you swipe your tongue through her folds. You have never done this before. And yet, your seem to know what you are doing. Or rather, your mouth knows what it's doing. It must be because of that thing she did with your tongue. A spell or something.

You begin to eat out the black haired woman. Moan after moan starts to spill from her lips. You push your tongue inside her pussy. Then, you swipe across her clit, drawing different shapes.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have given you this ability."

Her knees buckle as she gets overwhelmed by your new found skills. She has to hold onto your hair for support. You feel the wide sleeve of her fur coat rest on your head.

"Hold onto my waist."

You do as she says, holding her underneath the coat. Her skin feels a little warmer underneath your hands now.

"What a good boy."

She sighs and you can feel her, throwing her head back in bliss.

"You wanna make mommy cum, don't you?"

As if your body knows what to do to increase her pleasure, you nod. Because your mouth is still attached to her snatch, you make the woman's legs buckle again. The new sensation almost too much for her.

You feel her pussy becoming wetter as you feast on it. No spot stays untouched as you make sure to drive this unknown woman to her orgasm.

"Eat my pussy like the toy you are."

Her voice has become more sultry again as she nears her climax. Her grip on your hair becomes stronger. You feel her nails dig into your scalp.

"Mommy is gonna cum!"

She loudly announces her orgasm.

You keep up your work as she starts to cum. Her juices flood your tongue as she cums in your mouth. Her thighs close instinctively, trapping your head between them. Your face is pressed further against her pussy as she pulls at your hair.

You hear the woman breath heavily as she starts to come back to her senses. She parts her legs again, but doesn't loosen her grip on your hair. She pushes your head out of her pussy and makes you look up at her.

"You want to become a man?"

Her question sends shivers down your spine. You have never done this before. Especially not with a woman who seems to be supernatural.

But you know that the answer is yes.

She can see it in your eyes, her smile urging you on.

After letting go of your hair, she leans against the wall to your right. One foot on the step you are kneeling on, the other one step above.

"Come here then. Treat me like a man would treat me."

You almost jump to your feet, unable to hide your excitement. Standing right in front of her, you place your feet on the same steps like she did. She is a little smaller than you and yet, her pussy is on the perfect hight for your cock, due to her heels. It's tip grazes against her lower lips already.

"Put it in."

She whispers as she slings her arms around your neck.

"Take me."

You look down, as you start to part her folds. For the first time in your life, you start to penetrate a woman's most intimate area.

Her walls squeeze your cock tightly as you push forward. You go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She bites her lip as she looks up at you.

"Give me all of it. All of your cock."

You feel her pussy molding around you as you penetrate her further. As if her cunt is reshaping itself to fit your cock like a tight sleeve.

You groan as you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck. That's a good boy."

She bites your earlobe slightly, before whispering in your ear.

"Put your hands on my hips. And then, fuck me. Fuck me good."

You place your hands on her sides once more as you nod.

"That's good!"

You see her closing her eyes as you slowly pull out. Her pussy seems to try to keep you inside as you struggle to even pull out half of your cock.

You push back inside, making the woman lean her head against the wall.

"Faster, boy."

You do as she says, finally convinced you are not able to hurt her like this.

Your thrusts become faster and stronger. Her wetness makes a little easier to slide in and out.

More lewd words and moans are thrown your way as you start to actually fuck her. You nail her against the wall with every thrust, before you retreat. Then, you pull her body towards you as you thrust forward, pinning her against the wall yet again.

You keep your steady pace. Her moans increase in volume as she feels your cock hit the right spot deep inside her body.

"That's it. Pound your mommy like a good toy."

You fuck her harder. You pull her forward harsher, before slamming her against the wall.

The longer you keep fucking this woman, the longer your primal desires take over. You care less and less about your surroundings. You only care about her. Her and her pussy.

How rough you are with her doesn't matter anymore. You have to take from her as much pleasure as you can. Use her body to make yourself cum.

The woman seems to have sensed the change of your nature.

"That's it, boy. "

She moans into your ear.

"Fuck me like the slut I am. Use my hole until you cum."

You let out a groan as you think about cuming. You realize that you are lasting longer than ever before. When you do this on your own, it usually takes just a few minutes. But you feel like you have been fucking her four half an hour. Maybe that's another thing that changed, when she made your dick grow.

"Pound me with that cock of yours. I want to feel all your cum on my face."

Her words make you want to step up your game. You feel her increasing wetness as her juices slowly dribble out of the connection between your bodies.

"Fuck. You're gonna make mommy cum again."

You groan, close to your own orgasm as well. You don't know if you can survive her climaxing around your cock. Her pussy is already incredibly tight.

"Yes! Make mommy cum around that big cock of yours!"

You strengthen the grip on her hips, trying to use it to thrust into her just a little harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You almost scream as well as you feel her orgasm. Her walls tighten around you, trying to milk you. Her nails scratch at the back of your neck. Lewd sounds leave her mouth, which is dangerously close to your ear. Her legs buckle.

You stop thrusting, giving her time to regain her composure. It takes her a couple of moments.

Once she has come down, she looks at you hungrily.

"Increasing your length and stamina was a good call."

She traces your jawline with a finger.

"But the best feature is your cum. From now on, you will drown every woman in cum."

"What?"

You are too stunned to speak. Partially because you are still trying to recover as well, while her pussy is still hugging you tight. You believe she is exaggerating.

"You don't trust me?"

Her hand wanders to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You suddenly feel her pussy tighten around you. You can't believe she is able to adjust the size of her cunt. She squeezes you, making your cock twitch inside of her. You feel overwhelmed as she pulls at your hair at the same time. Her pussy is almost painfully tight by now.

"I trust you. I trust you!"

You sigh as you feel her releasing her grip. Both around your cock and on your hair.

"A toy doesn't question it's mommy. Understood?"

You nod.

"Good. Now be a good boy and cum on my face."

She pushes you away, making you slowly glide out of her pussy.

You watch her sit down on the stairs, like she did as you first saw her.

"Your cock looks so tasty with all my cum on it."

She takes you into her mouth, making you groan. Her lips wrap around you, her cheeks hollow. You feel her tongue dance along your cock, teasing and edging you. There is no way you are going to last much longer.

As the woman sucks you off again, you feel a tug in your stomach. It's a little stronger than it usually is. Maybe because you actually had sex? Or because you have more cum? You don't know. But it feels so good.

She doesn't even need to take your entire length down her throat again. Her lips have reached the middle of your cock as you feel yourself twitching.

Her eyes are wide with lust, demanding you to cum right now.

You can't hold back. A new kind of rush fills your system.

The first shot of cum hits the back of her throat, before she is able to react. She moves her head away, pointing your cock towards her face with one hand.

You have to hold onto the steel banister as you start to paint her face. Rope after rope of cum covers her perfect skin. Some lands on her lips. More lands on her closed eyelids, making them visibly heavier. It's dripping down her forehead, while the hair that frames her face is coated in cum as well.

But it still doesn't stop. You give her so much, that it starts to drop down from her chin. She tries to save it by opening her mouth and letting her tongue roam around. But a second after her mouth is opened, it's almost overflowing with your cum already. She has to gulp it down, preventing herself from choking and suffocating as more and more runs down her throat.

Once you finally finish cuming, you almost don't even dare to look at her.

Her whole face is covered by a thick layer of white, sticky cum. She can only open her eyes halfway, the cum on her eyelids weighing them down.

"What did I tell you?"

She chuckles, before she starts to lap up your cum from her face. Not just with her tongue, but her finger as well.

"This is even more than I expected. Probably because this was your first time."

You are unable to respond, still trying to comprehend what has happened in the last hour. For some reason her cum covered face turns you on again. The desire, to use her body, from earlier is slowly coming back.

When she looks up at you, you see her licking her finger for the last time. Her face is mostly cleaned up.

She seems to sense your new found desire. A smile forms around her lips.

"That's right, boy. You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

You nod hesitantly.

"You can't take your eyes off me. You want to feel every part of my body underneath your hands."

You nod again. Her words make your cock hard.

"I still have some time, before my husband comes home."

"W-What?"

You didn't even think about the possibility of her being married.

"Don't worry about him. He never pays attention to me anyways."

She reaches forward, letting her hand stroke your cock again.

"I'm always trying to teach boys like you something new. But I've already given you my mouth and my pussy."

She kisses the tip of your cock, her eyes a little darker.

"There is one more hole of mine that you can use. Make my ass cum. And maybe I will se you again after tonight."

The man on his throne laughs as he looks at the flames. His red body is glistening with sweat, screams of fear echo in the distance. Through the flames, he watches you stand behind his wife, aligning your cock with her rear entrance.

"You always corrupt the good ones."

He laughs to himself, his voice raspy and dark.

As you push inside of her, he can hear her moan, telling you to cum in her ass later.

Satan grins as he stands up, ready to punish the sinners that are burning in hell.

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

Hi everyone!

Enjoy this interlude. It wasn't planned at all, but after seeing SuA's Instagram post..... What am I supposed to say?

Hope you guys like the concept.

I'm excited for the new album.

Have a nice day!

[thesoftestmess]

this might not be canon, but personally i need furina to struggle a whole lot longer and harder with post-prophecy depression and mental illness. She's played the same tiring and painful act for five centuries, was constantly in a life or death scenario and had to hide her true self from the world the entire time and she won't just recover in a few years from that.

There's parts of her that will never ever be compatible with a simple human lifestyle, and parts of her that are irreparably broken. She isn't sure of her personality after everything that happened and the lie she had to live. She slips between personas and her archon temperament comes through like a defensive mechanism at any sign of conflict or trouble.

She's plagued by nightmares. Of the flood, of the trial, of the people closest to her conspiring against her behind her back, and of being found out in a million terrible ways. Of saying the wrong thing, making a wrong decision. Of being found out, of being found out, of being found out.

Lying or keeping a secret feels existential still. Being honest still feels life threatening sometimes. Putting herself first feels like putting both hands on a hot stove.

She doesn't live in the palais anymore, doesn't have to sit through trials anymore, but her heart and soul are still there. In her dreams she's still at the place she spent her entire life's memories at.

Yes, she can make new memories, but it'll take time. More time than she has, maybe, now that she's the closest to being human she'll ever be.

She'll never be human in the way the people around her are.

What sort of human has 500 years worth of memories after all? What human tells personal anecdotes and mixes up their centuries?

What sort of human can feel the absence of their divinity like it's a physical thing? A voice that will never speak to her again, or keep her alive? What human has no family, no childhood?

What human remembers so little, but still remembers death somewhere deep within?

She jerks out of sleep from it sometimes, gasping for air, and spends the rest of the night awake, almost frozen by fear. The flood is over, but it's hard to convince her racing heart that the danger is too.

Humans have entire family trees that go generations back, but Furina was put into this world a solitary creature, her blood heavy with sin ever since she turned human.

She owns a hydro vision now and doesn't know how to yield it, but the ocean still calls out to her some days. Sea creatures flock to her like they can smell she's not human enough.

She learns how to make little hydro companions for herself, so the darkness and emptiness of her apartment feels less ominous when she lies awake at night.

She can't turn her vision into a weapon quite yet, but when it rains the droplets seem to cling to her. She's watched them roll upwards along her arm, watched them gather in her palm like kin. She wonders if sea creatures flock to neuvillette in a similar way, or if his immense power makes them recoil. She wonders if elemental dragons can feel regret. Wonders if he, too, ever feels entirely foreign in that human body he was given. If he, too, lies awake trying to grasp faint memories of a past life.

She's extremely human in the way she's plagued by body pains from not being able to relax just one day in five centuries. The years catch up with her once she gets out of survival mode, and fatigue is a constant companion now. Sleep comes difficultly and getting out of bed was easier when the fate of a whole nation depended on it. On her. She's never lived for just herself before and some days she's not sure she wants to.

She did her duty and earned her retirement and the story turned out well, all things considered. She still has people by her side, some of them.

Still, she feels raw and tired and overwhelmed by the life lying ahead of her. As a human and as someone who will always be Something Else.

[eliteseven]

Absolutely love how you portray Tav and Shadowheart. Would you mind sharing some more domesticity HCs please?? They deserve that peaceful, full of love life so much 😭

🥹💕 thank you so much!!!! Sure, I would love to share a few nuggets of domesticity!

ShadowTav Cottage Domesticity HC’s (pt.2)

-Neither Tav nor Shadowheart have a “green thumb”. I think they’re both better at killing things, given how they’ve both spent the last decade 😅 but I feel like Arnell and Emmeline are just pure magic in the garden. They teach Shadowheart and Tav how to plant, water, compost, prune, and just generally care for the plants and trees. It’s like Emmeline’s little lessons in the kitchen. It’s a sweet way for them all to spend time with each other. Plus, every time Shadowheart’s parents remark that she’s doing something in just the same way she would have as a child, she lights up! 🥰

-Shadowheart and Tav starting a book collection 🥹 Shadowheart’s favorite smutty novels, a collection of Emmeline’s recipes, Tav’s favorite childhood books, writings that they came across in their adventures, books they pick up for each other on trips to Baldur’s Gate. They read together nearly every day. Sometimes, Tav reads while Shadowheart naps in her lap out in fields, under the sun. Sometimes Shadowheart gets a laugh out of her and reads her smutty excerpts while she makes supper in the kitchen.

-I’ve said this before but: Shadowheart particularly takes so much joy in decorating their cottage. Tav had her own quarters in her estate through childhood- but Shadowheart never really remembers a room being hers, let alone a cottage. She wants paintings! Color! Flowers, both alive, and of the dried and pressed variety! Little signs of their shared life together still make her eyes sting with emotion. Her clothes mixed in with Tav’s in the wardrobe (I HC they share everything🥰). Her equipment (sword, armor, etc) hanging beside Tav’s in their display. She never feels alone again. She has a home. She belongs somewhere, to someone, just at they belong to her.

-Shadowheart and Tav doing each other’s hair before bed. Or, perhaps, undoing is the proper term here- but I genuinely think this is a romantic, soft, domestic, meaningful ritual for them both. In days where Shadowheart wears her hair up; Tav lovingly undoes Shadowheart’s hair, part by part, runs her fingers through every silken strand. She rubs at Shadowheart’s scalp, gets her to unwind like a kitten, curling into her touch like she’s the warm afternoon sun. Shadowheart returns the favor- she loves Tav with her hair down. She brushes Tav’s hair and watches the stress of the day melt away from her shoulders. It’s something simple, really, but an act of sheer adoration for them both.

-Cottage maintenance, baby! A particularly bad storm has Tav (who…probably still isn’t the best at tinkering or fixing things bc…why would she be?) sitting on the roof, soaked to the bone, trying to patch a part of the roof that’s given out. Sure, they could put a pail under it and call it a day, but Tav is…Tav. It’s over Arnell and Emmeline’s little guest cottage, and she will be damned if she lets her in-laws sleep in the rain. She…can’t fix it. Not till morning, and not without assistance. But she and Shadowheart offer their room to her parents. Shadowheart comes and finds her in the rain, and I like to think…they just embrace it. Rain and all. It’s freeing. Probably stay out there till who knows when, just taking in the rain, embracing each other. Poetic cinema

-Tav comes a long way with the animals. She’s always liked animals, but I don’t think her past afforded her any chance to really have any pets other than her mount in the military (assuming she had one). It warms Shadowheart’s soul to wake up to Tav quietly whispering to Buttons about how busy their day is going to be, or racing Scratch and the Owlbear to the barn, or singing sweetly to Daphne while she brushes her. But seeing Tav holding the little ones: the kittens, the baby chicks, Buttons when he’s a pup…baby fever!!!!! Has Shadowheart down atrociously 😍

-not exactly a domesticity HC but needs to be said: they still train together. Tav will be damned if she lets her skill with a blade get rusty- especially now that she has a family to protect. Shadowheart, too- wits and blades always sharp, just for a different, kinder goddess now. Now, if they’re both sweaty and worked up and happen to simply jump each other’s bones afterwards, every time…. 😏 I digress

-bittersweet last one here: Tav is a human. Shadowheart will outlive her. She’s well-aware of this fact, and though she is living her best life, she worries for Shadowheart in the future. I’ve been playing with the idea that, every day, when Shadowheart is otherwise occupied, Tav slips away to write her a little note. Like a diary entry, almost- but for Shadowheart. Sometimes they’re brief thoughts, sometimes it’s as simple as telling Shadowheart how ethereal she looked that day, and how much Tav loves her. Tav saves these notes over the years as she compiles them. Hiding them from Shadowheart is one of the hardest things she ever has to do. But…one day, when Shadowheart is aching from the loss and misses her…well, she can open up this journal, or collection of notes, and fall in love with Tav all over again 🥹💕 Tav documents all these sweet little moments of domesticity, and they gain eternal life on that parchment. Shadowheart is free to relive their love and life together as often as she wants. I think she will always be Shadowheart’s home.

[daquila]

This is me trying || Gojo Satoru x Reader

Satoru spending his time thinking about the love that he lost.

genre: hurt/no comfort, angst

Satoru stumbled inside the entrance; his body was completely exhausted from work. It was like all of his life, soul, and mind got sucked out from how many exorcisms he had to do.

The sorcerer was greeted with the hanging photo frames that decorated your living room as he rolls over to the sofa. It had many pictures of him smiling without a mask, making him look more human than usual.

Satoru, really, is just a simple man— nothing more or less than that. Sure, he could be the strongest alive— but that would never erase the fact that he was still vulnerable.

The silence grew louder, which oddly drew the ghosts of his past near him. All he could envision were the memories that you spent together in that very same living room: the sound of laughter echoing as you watched your favourite show together, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns during a very cold December, and the taste of your lips after you poured your heart into him.

All he could wish for was for you to come home— but he knew that you would never return in his arms. It was his own stubbornness that drove you away.

He didn’t want to deny that you were his weakness. It was already written all over his face. The way he’d look at you, talk to you—- or even hold you were dead giveaways! Practically the entirety of the jujutsu knew about how precious you were to him.

That, of course, made his ego inflate. Everyone knew that you were his, and everyone knew that he was yours; however, it would be the same reason why you were torn apart from him.

He uses this moment to think about the depth of this situation. You were so exposed to jujutsu, and it was ripping him into shreds. After you got promoted to grade 1, the higher ups started sending you to even more dangerous exorcisms— almost as if they wanted to get rid of you. These old geezers wanted to see him break and possibly push him beyond the limits of jujutsu.

It went from spending a night without him to getting used to not seeing him for two whole months. Satoru was getting busier and busier as time passed by. No one would have thought that this was all planned out.

The rain was pouring heavily as he exercised his final curse in the outskirts of Osaka until he received a call from Ijichi. Like the idiot that he is, he forgot to charge his phone prior to going out. Satoru’s phone instantly blacked out.

“ Must be important, “ he thought, making his way to the train station to get back to Tokyo. Maybe he should just go Shoko’s office and ask her about Ijichi’s sudden call. The driver only called him whenever there was a mishap in the morgue.

While walking down the hallway, he sensed a familiar energy: it was yours. Though suspiciously faint, he thought that you must have been hurt— but his six eyes were telling him a whole different story.

The first thing he saw when opening the door was a body covered in a white sheet. No other patients were present. Shoko just gives him a pitiful glance before signalling to Ijichi for the both of them to leave the room.

Satoru already knew what was happening, but his heart was fighting for a different truth. He wanted to make an excuse for what was happening, because his subconsciousness was already starting to point fingers. Him being too busy to not be there for you wasn’t a good excuse. You were literally dying; he could’ve been there for you.

What pained him the most was that he hadn’t replied to any of your calls or texts for the past few weeks. He wasn’t able to hear you, talk to you, or even hold you. If he was truly your everything, then why did he treated you like you were nothing?

The last time he’s ever been with you was two months ago. It was raining heavily in the school, so the both of you decided to indulge in some movies. It was nothing special, and it pained him. Satoru wished that he took you out somewhere better—- after all, you deserved more than what the moon could offer.

Satoru kept on telling himself that going on constant missions were to protect you. But at what cost? Losing his time and being “too busy” to come and rescue his dying wife? It all wasn’t worth it— not even worth the time, effort, and all of that stress he went through. Your cold, lifeless body will forever haunt him. It would become a reminder of how stupid he was for doing that to you.

A/N: all I could write is angst LOL #fluffslander

[icanfixhimclub]

The Thunder Rolls || Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Pairings:Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Warnings:cheating, strong language, angst

Summary: based on the song ‘The Thunder Rolls’ by Garth Brooks

3:30 in the mornin', not a soul in sight

The city's lookin' like a ghost town on a moonless summer night

Raindrops on the windshield, there's a storm movin' in

He's headin' back from somewhere that he never should have been

And the thunder rolls

And the thunder rolls

The radio clock in his truck reads 3:30 AM as he drives through the empty streets. Rains pounding down on his windshield as he drives, his brights cutting through the darkness, providing light the moon wasn’t giving him tonight, like it knew he didn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t know how he ended up there, in her bed. He had been at the hard deck drinking with the squad, fully intending to make it home to you before midnight and hold you in his arms to drift to sleep, but she bought him a drink, and he can’t think about the rest.

A loud crash of thunder pulls him from his thoughts, the sound reverberating throughout the truck, yelling at him in a way. He swore it would never happen again, and yet it did, and Mother Nature sends him another punishing roll of thunder. He knows he should be with you, calming you through the storm. But he wasn’t.

Every light is burnin' in a house across town

She's pacin' by the telephone in her faded flannel gown

Askin' for a miracle, hopin' she's not right

Prayin' it's the weather that's kept him out all night

And the thunder rolls

Oh, and the thunder rolls

The kitchen light is shining across her face as she stands in the kitchen. Well, not standing, she’s been pacing around the island for the last 2 hours, staring at her phone, waiting for him to call. For him to tell her he’s fine, that he got caught up in the storm, that he was on his way back to her.

She’s picking at the loose threads of the flannel she’s wearing, his flannel. She prays she’s wrong, but her guts yelling at her, telling her he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and deep down, she knew it was right. But she could pray, pray she was wrong, and she would.

A roll of thunder travels through the house, she could feel it travel up through her bare feet on the tile through her body to make her shiver. She finally stops, bracing herself on the kitchen table, tears welling in her eyes.

Thunder rolls

And the lightnin' strikes

Another love grows cold

On a sleepless night

As the storm blows on, out of control

Deep in her heart

The thunder rolls

A half sob wracks through her body in time with a flash of lighting brightening the house. As she stares down at the engagement ring on her finger, it felt cold now, she couldn’t feel the warmth of love that she felt whenever she looked at it. No, now it felt freezing, burning her hand and her heart as she slipped it off.

She knows she should just go to bed, but she couldn’t, not when she was so helpless. Not when she didn’t know where he was, if he was safe…if he was still here.

A tumble of thunder came again, and she felt it deep in her veins, in her blood, in her heart. In her heart, she knew.

She's waitin' by the window when he pulls into the drive

She rushes out to hold him, thankful he's alive

But on the wind and rain, a strange perfume blows

And the lightnin' flashes in her eyes

And he knows that she knows

And the thunder rolls

And the thunder rolls

Jake puts the truck in park in the driveway, seeing the shadow of her figure in the kitchen window. Her face was in her hands as she looks out the window and sees him exiting the truck. She doesn’t even think before she’s out the door.

He hasn’t even made it to the porch when she rushes to him, enclosing her arms around him in a sob, gripping onto him for dear life. He grips back, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. Neither of the notice that she’s still barefoot on the pavement, or that her ring is sitting inside the house.

She pulls back slightly to hold his face in her hands, squinting her eyes to see through the pouring rain and the winds blesses him with his scent. Sandal wood, jet fuel and…and then she smells it. It’s perfume, but it’s not hers. It’s cheap and smells of artificial flowers and infidelity. Her nose scrunched up as she pulls away from him.

His hands fall to his side and the lightning flashes in the sky, illuminating her face to him, giving him a clear view that she knows. She opens her mouth to say something but gets cut off by a crash of thunder. He stays at her with pleading eyes, tears streaming down both of their faces. He says her name, a faint whisper drowned out by another roll of lightning.

Thunder rolls

And the lightnin' strikes

Another love grows cold

On a sleepless night

As the storm blows on, out of control

Deep in her heart

The thunder rolls

The thundering of her sobs as she’s running away from him and into the house will haunt him forever. He follows after her, calling her name, desperate for her to hear him over the storm. He follows her to the dark bedroom and makes out her figure hunched over the dresser, shaking with cries or anguish.

Lightning forces it’s way through the windows, and it’s only then that he realizes the silver band is missing from her left hand that’s desperately gripped the edge of the dresser. “How could you?” He barely heard her, could barely make out her voice over the sound of the wind blowing outside and his own heart pounding in his ears.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, searching for the right thing to say, but decided on a pitiful “I’m sorry.” Chills wash over him as she turns around slowly to face him, tear stained face and dangerous eyes,

“You’re sorry? That’s it? Fuck you, Seresin! I hate you! I’m leaving!” She shoved past him, into the kitchen to grab her car keys as he follows like a lost puppy, begging her to stay.

“No, please don’t go, not now. I get it, and I’m so sorry, but please don’t leave, it’s not safe, I’ll even sleep on the couch, just please stay for the night.” He had swallowed his pride and had ended up on the ground, clutching her arm for fear life, begging for her not to go.

Her heart tightened at the truly broken look on his face and she fought back another choked sob, “Fine, but I’m sleeping on the couch.” Jake nods desperately, anything as long as she was safe. He even went to get her a blanket and pillow from the closet, setting it up nicely on the couch for her and setting out one of his freshly washed t shirts for her to change out of the soaked flannel.

She brushed past him wordlessly into the living room and he doesn’t hide the heartbroken sound that leaves his mouth. He goes to leave the room, but hesitates in the doorway, unable to look at her, “Goodnight, I-I love you.” He waits a second for a response, but is met with silence.

He makes his way to the bedroom, silently stripping into pajama pants and a plain white shirt. He crawls into bed, hating how cold it felt without the warmth of holding her against him. He reached for her pillow, holding it against him and breathing in her lingering scent.

In the living room, she’s in the same position, wrapped impossibly tight in the blanket and pulling his shirt up to her face, breathing him in as she tries to keep her sobs low and undetectable.

The storm continues outside, a roll of thunder rumbling through her and she can’t help but cry, thinking of how similar she felt to the sound in an unexplainable way.

[otherworldlyhope]

So Far Away

You can either read it here or on my Ao3

Summary:

This time was different though. This time ended with sharp voices and barely veiled tears. This time had yells that filled the rooms they walked through and harsh words that neither parties really meant. Or maybe they did, maybe it was words left long unsaid. This time ended with Grian and Scar in separate beds for the first time since they had moved in together. ~ ~ ~ Grian and Scar fight, then make up in their own way

Words: 1,318

They fought again. 

It wasn’t to say that fighting wasn’t unusual between the two. In fact it was one of the things they were really good at. But usually the fights were accompanied by laughter and sarcasm, and eventually forgiveness. They would make up only to fight again about something stupid and harmless, because that’s just the way they were. 

This time was different though. This time ended with sharp voices and barely veiled tears. This time had yells that filled the rooms they walked through and harsh words that neither parties really meant. Or maybe they did, maybe it was words left long unsaid. This time ended with Grian and Scar in separate beds for the first time since they had moved in together. 

As Scar rolled over in his sleep his arms absentmindedly reached across the bed for warmth. All his fingers touched were cool sheets and empty space. A frown settled on his lips as he stared at the space where Grian usually was. The emptiness reverberated in his soul, pressing tightly against his lungs and heart. Grian’s familiar scent filled his nose and assaulted all his senses. All at once the anger returned and he forced himself up, slipping on a pair of shoes.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he just needed to be anywhere but there. Anywhere but the place that had Grian in every part of it. The door clicked shut behind him in the night, casting the usually lively apartment into cold darkness. 

On the other side of town Grian couldn’t sleep. In fact he hadn’t even really tried since he had showed up at Pearl’s place, soaked from the rain outside. She had let him in with no questions, only offering him dry clothes and a warm fireplace. Once he had settled himself on the ground in front of the fireplace he hadn’t dared move. His back ached from leaning over the now lukewarm cup of cocoa in his hands. It wasn’t even halfway gone, but he still hadn’t let it slip from his fingers. It gave him a reason to stay awake, make sure you don't spill on Pearl’s expensive rug. 

Her place was nice, much nicer than the one bedroom apartment Scar and him rented out from their seedy landlord. With high vaulted ceilings and wooden furnishings it had a rustic feeling to it. That had actually been the premise of their whole fight in the first place. Still it was stupid and Grian didn't want to think about it.

He thought it would end like all their petty fights did, with jokes and a compromise of some sort. But Scar had gotten defensive in a way Grian hadn’t seen since they first started dating. They both said things that had gone too far and Grian had left with a huff, his face red and his heart hammering against his chest. 

See the thing was that he wasn’t angry at Scar, he didn’t think he really could be. He had just got caught up in the moment, and had taken it too far past the line. He regretted it now, but he was also too stubborn to go back. So instead he pulled himself to his feet and placed the mug on the counter. 

There was somewhere else he could go, somewhere he hadn’t been in a long time.

It was barely drizzling as he stepped from the building. He had changed back into his wet clothes for Pearl’s sake, no use it getting her things wet as well. He would have called a cab, but he needed the walk to clear his head. Despite the rain and early hour the city was alive. Lights flashed and club music rang through the streets. 

Maybe if it was another night Grian and Scar would be among the people on the street. But instead he walked alone, glancing into still open businesses as he passed. When he reached his destination he paused, the door was already unlocked. For just a moment he feared it had been broken into, but then he heard the music. 

At first it was just a few tentative notes, testing to see if the piano was still working. As Grian slipped into the building, scales and arpeggios filled his ears. Distant memories of those exact scales played in that exact order flashed through his mind as he peeked around the corner. In the corner of the room sat Scar, his back to the doorway. His fingers slowly moved across the ivory keys as he finished his scale progression. 

In the early days of their relationship Grian would sit beside Scar and watch as he played dozens of songs. It always floored him, the way that Scar could make it look so easy, how he could create such beautiful melodies with only his fingers.

Grian watched as his shoulder rose and fell with a deep breath before he started to play. Unlike what Grian was used to, this music wasn’t gentle and calm. No it was loud and harsh, booming across the entire space with ferocity. Scar’s fingers danced across the keys as he pulled them away quickly, creating sharp notes that cut through Grian’s ears. 

He could feel the burning anger that Scar had only alluded to during their argument. His music said what he hadn’t, and it hurt. The notes were livid, screaming in a way that Scar couldn’t bring himself to. It was still beautiful though, in a raw way that Grian couldn’t even begin to describe. Scar’s shoulders tensed as he reached the climax of the song, his hands a whirlwind of movement as he played with an anger he never had before. 

Slowly the music calmed and settled into a single melody that Grian couldn’t forget, not even in death. His feet moved him forward before he could even think and he sat beside Scar on the bench. Scar jumped at his sudden appearance, his fingers stuttering and bringing the music to a sudden stop. Grian pulled his hand onto the keys, playing the counterpart to the melody that Scar had stopped. It was the only thing he knew how to play thanks to Scar teaching him so long ago.

While Grian wasn’t the music type, he poured his heart into the little that he knew. His fingers said what he couldn’t say aloud. I’m sorry, I love you. His heart was thrumming in time with the music as he waited for Scar’s response. His fingers hovered over the keys as the next part was Scar’s. 

Scar seemed to realize he wasn’t here to continue the argument, and relaxed. The smallest smile found its way onto his lips and made Grian’s heart soar. His hands slowly found their way onto the keys and when he played it brought tears to Grian’s eyes. I know, and I love you too. The sweet melody picked up as Grian started to play again. The two contrasting melodies finally coming together into a harmony that was enough to make them both smile. 

Grian leaned against Scar’s shoulder and closed his eyes as he let his brain continue the task without him. He knew the song by heart. Scar’s cheek pressed against his unruly hair and Grian heard him sigh. With that he knew they would be okay. While they still might fight and hurt each other, they loved each other enough to apologize, even if it was without words sometimes. And that would be enough.

The world kept spinning on. People on the streets said hello as they passed, people in the clubs danced the night away, and people at home slept through a cold storm. No one knew about the two sitting in an abandoned building, declaring their love to each other in the best way they knew how. And that was fine with them, because all they needed was each other.

[oceansssblue]

[THE BAD BATCH] — Soulmate AU

ECHO/OFC

WARNINGS: SOME ANGST (HAPPY ENDING), ECHO WITH SOME SELF-BODY ISSUES.

Echo stared at his now metallic forearm. He could almost picture it; the way his tanned skin used to show her name, the strange irreplacable ink shaping the five small letters that had changed everything back when he was a kid. His soulmate's name. His mark. His bond.

Echo had been nine when the five letters had suddenly sewed themselves onto his skin. It was just an uncomfortable itch at first; then, it burned. When nine year old Echo had dragged his right sleeve up to check his forearm, he had found a name.

<< Raine >>

Five small letters that gave him hope and cursed him all the same. His first feelings had been –after shock and confusion– pure joy and affection. Someone, somewhere in the galaxy, was destined just for him; a true match to his particular soul. Not his brothers, not just any clone; His.

Then, that joy and hope had been squashed away. Taken with greedy hands and harsh words. He still remembered the lecture the kaminoans gave him, amongs a few other lucky –or unlucky– clones. The hope and joy was replaced with fear, guilt, and sadness. Someone, somewhere, was destined to live in constant worry for him, or worse, forced to experience his loss with or without the chance to getting to know him. Because he was just a clone, engineered to fight a war for the Republic; and nothing else mattered at all. Not that name; not his bond. Not Raine.

Years passed, and little Echo kept growing into the soldier he was now with strict rules and a clear objective in mind; becoming an ARC trooper, protecting his Jedi general and the Republic, surviving fight after fight among the brothers who could. Survive. All thoughts of his soulmate were burried under a million worries and more than a dozen closed calls; under the grief he held for the death of too many vods and the anger and rippling sadness that threatened to bury him alive. Just keep fighting. Dont give up. It became his new mantra; and that he did, until the option was taken away from him too.

His memories of Skako Minor were, at best, hazy and mixed up. He saw numbers. He saw Fives, and Rex, his squad and all the manuals he had learned by page. He saw, but he didn't think. Or live. He was just something; part of the technology, of a system, not even a clone right then. He didn't realise how much he liked and needed to be just a clone until he started his long way to recovery after Anaxes and found out just how different he was from the rest of them now.

The death of his twin had been even more difficult to process than getting used to his new body and mind. He didn't recognise himself in the mirror; didn't recognise who he was without fives. But the Bad Batch showed him who he could be. He had hold onto that new oportunity while he learned how to cope with his new shape; how his complex interface worked, how to filter huge amounts of data in his head, how his legs and scomp moved. It hadn't been easy. It still wasn't. But he had learned to leave the past behind; how to focus on what he still had, and suddenly, with time, Clone Force 99 had become family in his eyes. After the fall of the Republic, he had sticked with them. One day, Echo would contact Rex and join the Rebellion, return to what he did best; until the Bad Batch found a safe haven, a place for Omega to grow without the fear of getting caught by the Empire constatly hugging her, Echo would cover their backs.

(•••)

"I'm still unable to comprehend where I could have made a mistake. I have considered every option I have been able to come up with; but something must obviously be escaping my mind. Your prothesis are failing to recuperate their full movility and speed and I can't seem to find the error in order to fix it so..."

Echo tried not to chuckle at Tech's constant mutters and rambling. They had just finished a mission for Cid in Ackerton three days ago, in which once again Echo had used his new abilities to infiltrate in an external security system to get the doors that they needed oppened. He had done that with no problem at all; but his legs had buckled right after achieving it and he would have had hit the floor if Wrecker wasn't there to catch him in time. It had appeared to be just a minor shock to his system, back then; with Echo quickly regaining his foot and finishing the mission swiftly with no other complications at all. However, the strange malfunction had repeated at least twice per day since then; and Tech, to the resident genious own greatest frustration, handn't been able to find the reason yet. That's why they were currently walking towards the supposedly best ingeneering workshop in a nearby planet, Osk; to, for once, get some external help.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Tech", Echo answered with his usually calm, soft voice, trying to put his brother at ease while he continued directing them through the route he was visualising in his head. "We'll get it fixed in no time".

Tech frowned in evident irritation. He was also worried for Echo, even if expressing in annoyment his lack of knowledge was the only way he knew how to.

"It is not nothing. If it were, I would have obviously found the malfunction and..." He started, but was quickly cut out by Echo's voice as the soldier stopped right on his track and scanned the building in front of them with interest.

"Clanks&Screws, that's our place right there" announced Echo, making Tech go silent for a tiny while he too scanned the workshop from the outside.

Echo nodded and walked towards the entrance without bothering to check if his vod was following or not.

"Can't believe we're leaving this in hands of a shop with a name like that..." Tech muttered, but entered the work place just the same.

At least the shop was kept clean and only slightly disorganized. Some chips, wires, drivers and half projects where abandoned here and there; but otherwise it didn't give off the impression of someone who just wanted to get money doing a shitty half job. Tech examined the space without hiding his curiosity; while Echo tried to locate the resident ingeneer, who was no where to be found.

"Be right there!" Shouted a voice from an adjacent room, right then, and once recovered from the surprise both clones waited patiently for the workers arrival. They could hear a feminine mumble across the opened door behind the counter. "Just make sure it doesn't crumble again, little bug".

They didn't have much time to ponder to whom she was talking to –though by the nickname, and considering where they were, it was probably some kind of techno droid– before a tall girl with chocolate brown hair tied up in a messy bun and black grease stains across her cheeks and hands walked towards them. She had caramell eyes, a small button nose and a very un-flattering work overall on. Even with her figure hidden from stranger's wandering glances, Echo couldn't help thinking how beautiful she was.

"What can I help you with, boys?" She asked, after scanning them in a fraction of a second that felt too long and yet not enough to the former ARC trooper.

Tech was quick to jump into his endless explanation and, surprisingly, the –probably in her mid twenties– woman patiently listened and nodded along. Further from feeling annoyed or irritated, she seemed to cling to each word as if she were gratefull to have someone who had done some research and knew what they were on about for once. She payed special attention at how Echo's neural system worked; her eyes turning to steal a glance from him here and there while Tech continued discussing posibilities and his thorough research. Echo awkardly –yet patiently– waited for the two ingeneering experts to come to a conclussion.

"Have you checked his neural interface, then?" She cut out, once she knew the googled man wasn't going to point out any adittional relevant information anymore, and Tech looked at her stunned.

"Oh, I can't believe I didn't evaluate the posibility of the malfunction coming from his central system! I went straight to the prothesis without taking into consideration that his neural conexion may have been seveered while tapping into the defence code web and..."

The young mechanic chuckled and turned to Echo. Those were two interesting men.

"Have you been having some sort of visual or processing weird alteration too, handsome?"

Echo blushed involuntarily and tried to remember.

"I... I have, actually. I didn't think too much about it, but I've been able to process data almost too fast. Faster than my usual rythim, at least. But that's not exactly a bad thing, right?" He asked, wearily.

She hummed and crouched down to grab a case of tools and placed it on the counter in front of her.

"Not painful, but not a good thing either" she answered distractedly, her hands roaming through the tools in search of a specific one. "It might be a sign that your prothesis aren't sending the necessarily signs to your neural system and therefore making it able to speed the conexions of other functions. Imagine your body is a circuit. If you eliminate or lower the charge on the colateral one that goes towards your legs, the other conexions will be able to work faster. That way you can sort throw data better, but loose movility, range and speed."

Echo didn't ever think that he would feel that atracted to brains; even if it were a desirable trait, he would have imagined that it would be more of Tech's thing. However, this woman knew what she was talking about; and he found the determined way she talked and moved and her easy, collected disposition refreshingly attractive. It helped she was pretty, too.

"Alright, let's have a look" she announced, once she finally found the rounded tool she was apparently looking for, and pointed at one side of the room to him "Can you sit on the stool over there and take off your shirt?"

Stating that Echo's cheeks burned brighter than a star would have been an understatement.

"W-What?" He could only managed to stutter, paralised.

The young mechanic laughed –a true, un-restrained, melodic sound– and showed him a loop-sided amused smirk.

"Not like that, handsome" she soothed him, albeit with a entertained twinkle in her caramel eyes. "I've seen a pair of similar neural systems like yours before, and you guys usually have a double entrance point to minimise the risk of overcharing and damaging a port. I assume you got one hiding there on your head implant and one on some spot on your spine, don't you?

Tech could still read the shock and hesitance on his brothers face and decided to gift him with some more seconds to collect himself.

"You are, indeed, correct. Your knowledge is impressive. I confess I had my reservations upon arrival, but I can see now that my doubts were unfair".

The young woman showed the goggled clone a small smile and waited for Echo to finally react. He did so with a million doubts and concerns running through his head. He was used to his body by now, but he wasn't used to others looking at it. He sat down on the stool regardless and slowly took his shirt off; staring down at the floor and trying not to fidget in his self-consciousness.

She seemed to understand what he was feeling and thinking about; as she quickly stepped behind his back without staring at his body more than necessary and reassuring him before actually starting to play with his head.

"I'm gonna do this as quick and swiftly as possible, okay? Just gonna plug in in both ports and run a quick scanning system first. If it is what I think it is, my program will find the severed conexion in no time and we'll get it fixed under fifteen minutes. Sounds good?"

Echo nodded in silence. He felt an electric rush zapping through his veins when the young woman connected to both of his ports; feeling slightly comforted while she talked him through what she was going to do. Her hand softly caressed one side of his neck; and Echo couldn't hold his reaction. He trembled; a feeling mixed with both panic and pleasure. She assumed it to be purely the first and her voice turned surprisingly soft and gentle.

"You alright there? It shouldn't be painfull at all. Just a few more minutes. Let me know if it does, okay?"

He nodded, closing his eyes and letting her search along his files. It felt weirdly intimate, somehow. He tried to mantain his breathing under control and not think of Skako Minor. He was safe, now; even if someone was checking him like the half-droid he was.

"Found it" her satisfied voice popped up after some minutes, making Echo open her eyes and only then realising he was crushing Tech's hand on his own one. He let it go with a small apologising glance; his googled brother completely unfased by the act. "It was just what I thought. The security interface you tried to infiltrate must have sent a shock to your system that has somehow rerouted some of the conexions between your neural implant and your legs prothesis towards other circuits. That's why you can still move them but without the same speed, strength, and movility range. I just have to carefully rerout it back to normal and you should be good to go in ten".

Both Echo and Tech nodded in understanding, and they let the mechanic perform her art. Tech studied each step; making sure nothing was put out of place and learning along the way. She diligently worked in near silence for the next few minutes; muttering to herself here and there and turning the corners of her lips up in victory when achieving each step.

She finally sighed and very carefully and slowly plugged out of the man's ports. She threw her tools back onto their case and handed Echo his shirt, standing up in front of him and showing him a small smile.

"All done. Feeling good, handsome?"

Echo re-dressed and cautiously tried to flex his artificial knees and twist around. He nodded in relief. Tech did too, satisfied.

"Yeah. I didn't even realise it before, but it did feel different than usual. Now it feels just right". He looked up at her with honest eyes. "Thank you. What do we owe you for this?"

She walked back towards the counter while she answered.

"Usual price is 100 osseks. But it was a pretty quick repair, and I like you guys, so we'll leave it at 90, how about that?

Tech stepped in and extended his hand.

"We appreciate it. Unconviniently, we only count with its equevalent in credits. Would that pose a problem?"

She shrugged and waved a hand.

"Nah. I accept pretty much any sort of payment here. Just let me call bug in so he can scan those credits for me. Not that I think you guys are trying to fool me, but scammers are getting quite creative this days".

Echo nodded in agreement.

"No offense taken" he added, and she turned to the opened door calling her droid out.

"Four-o-nine! Move your little wings here and scan this credits for me, bug!

A small red CRX-technodroid calmly flew towards them; making chirping sounds while he inmediatly followed the human's order. Tech curiously glanced at both Echo and the droid before voicing his observation.

"Curious name for a technodroid" he started, tentatively, while she waited for the red bug to finish his scan.

"Is it?" She answered, distracted, saving the credits in a safe place and getting the change for them. "I named it after someone important to me".

Tech collected the excess back and dropped it in one of his numerous belt pouches. He just had a feeling about this. Could he be right?

"May I ask who? A family member, pherhaps?"

Her face filled with melancholy and a sad smile perched on her lips for once.

"It's someone who I've never met", was her quiet answer, and Echo felt his heart beat intensifying and threatening to burst out of his chest right then. He had catched up on Tech's suspition. But there was no way that beautiful woman was her soulmate, right?

His tongue felt stuck to his mouth. Fortunately for him, Tech continued his cautious research like he always did.

"You must have realised were clones, as intelligent as you are, albeit different than the mayority of us. Am I correct in assuming that that is his CT-number?

She seemed hesitant to confirm his theory, but ended up nodding and Echo felt closer to suffering a heart attack. This was it. This could be it. This could be the moment where his whole world shifted again and...

"1409, yeah. I cut it down to four-o-nine for short" she let out a nervous chuckle, reading their postures and understanding the direction of his questions with a growing heaviness in her heart. "Don't tell me you know him? After the Republic fell I assumed I wasn't going to be able to meet him. Everyone's on the run, nowadays, and..."

She grew silent, fidgeting with the end of her sleeve, and Echo swallowed his insecurities down. He glanced at Tech, who nodded at him and gave him the rest of the strength he needed to voice his confession out loud.

"I am... I am CT-1409. I... I'm your soulmate."

A million thoughts and emotions seemed to flash in the girls eyes. She stared in shock, stunned; looking at him a few seconds later with raw hope and anxiousness etched in every fraction of her face.

"If... if this is a joke, it's no fun" she whispered, without tearing her caramel eyes of him, and Echo couldn't stop staring back even when Tech's voice intervened.

"I can assure you Echo is indeed clone trooper 1409. We have no reason to lie to you; we've already achieved what we came here for".

She tugged her sleeve up. Without looking at her right forearm, she caressed the numbers on her skin. Echo trembled at the sight. It was such a reverent gesture, filled with such hope and warmth...

Her caramel eyes searched his amber ones; the stare she gave him was so intense it seemed as if she was searching his very own soul. And he was hers. His soul.

"Tell me my name. If you're my soulmate, you must have had it etched in your skin, once, too."

She needed confirmation. And he understood. Echo knew right then that she had been waiting for him even longer than he himself had. Because while her memory had been forcebly burried inside his mind, toppled with his hard life as a soldier, he was still fresh in hers; no-one told her to shut it down, to forget about him. And Echo understood once more all the lies that the kaminoans had tried to teach them about their soulmates too. It didn't matter if they met each other or not. It didn't matter if the clones succeeded in forgetting them. Their soulmates worries and fear for them would not change. Would not stop. And neither would their love and care.

"Raine" he whispered, as if she would dissolve in thin air if her name was spoken too loud "Your name burnt my right forearm when I was nine years old. I was told to forget... But i never truly did. It was the one order I never couldn't fully follow".

Her eyes filled with tears and she tumbled towards him.

"F-Fuck. Fuck... You-You are..."

She couldn't help herself. Some part of her understood the reservations he might have to being hugged and touched; but he was his soulmate, he was fucking there, and she couldn't do any other thing that throwing herself into his arms.

Echo couldn't bring himself to plant distance between each other either. A slight panic flew through his veins with the unexpected contact; but she was there, and surprisingly, she fiercely wanted him. And Raine was all he ever wanted too, even if he wasn't allowed to feel so.

She cried on his shoulder, whispering against his armour.

"I thought you might be... With the war and the rise of the Empire, I hadn't found you yet and I thought I might never..."

Echo moved his left hand over her back in a soothing caress.

"It's alright. It's alright, Mesh'la. I'm sure it was difficult, and we've... I've been through a lot, too... But we're here now. I'm right here, okay?"

She felt strong enough to push her face back a little in order to being able to look up towards him. She was tall, sure, but he was even taller. She liked that.

"I've been calling you handsome and trying to flirt with you since you stepped inside my shop, thinking I might find myself a hot date for a change and..." she let out a teary laugh, making Echo chuckle with her, too.

"And I happen to be your soulmate" he finished for her, showing a small warm smile. "You know, that actually makes me feel a bit better. I was worried that if I ever managed to find you, you wouldn't find this..." he gestured "Attractive".

She bit her lip and some of that previously cool collected cheekiness reappeared.

"Oh, handsome, believe me" her arms slowly wrapped around his shoulders and neck, and she grinned at him "I find you hot as fuck".

They chuckled and laughed together; both unable to resist each other anymore and joining their lips in a passionate –yet gentle– kiss. She melted in his arms. Kissing his soulmate, Echo, had to be the best thing she had experienced in her life.

Later that night, when Echo returned to the Marauder with the rest of his family –they all had agreed to stay for a whole extra week in Osk to give the young mechanic time to pack her things up and join them– Raine looked down to her forearm and caressed his four digits with a soft smile.

<<1409>>

She couldn't be happier; couldn't feel prouder of having his mark on her skin. And she couldn't wait to experience all that were to come.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

AUTHORS NOTE:

That's it for this one folks! Please forgive any errors I've made; English is not my native language.

I really hope you've enjoyed this! And if you have (or even if you haven't, I accept constructive critisicsm) let me know in the comments! This is my first au ever in tumblr (i write fics on wattpad in spanish) and I'm sure I'll feel more inspired to continue if you do so.

Also, I accept requests! If you want me to write a story about a specific clone, with whatever theme or relationship you can imagine (i can also write dark stuff, smutt, WHATEVER) let me know in the comments or send me a dm!

Xx, Sky.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Darkling [Rain x Phantom x Darkling (Oc)]

Summary: She was a newly summoned ghoul and she was struggling. As someone who came from the very pits of hell, nightmares and self-doubt was nothing but expected but she wasn't sure how she was going to be able to cope; until two of her new ghoul pack mates remind her how special she is.

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort dedicated to one of my special followers! I hope this makes you feel a little better and something you can return to reading anytime you need some extra comfort! @darklylucid

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Contrary to belief, Hell wasn't the lake of fire, filled with flames and with the hot stench of death. It was cold, soul-chilling cold and it was terrifying. Terrifying because you could trust nobody, nothing in the pits of hell was your friend and you always had to watch your back. Another contradiction when it comes to hell is well...when you're in hell, you can't die. Condemned souls and demons alike were immortal because well, they were already dead. Condemned souls eventually become demons in a sense after being with the realm of Hell for such a long time. No one died there because they were already dead. But most wished they would die because demons and ferals were brutal creatures. They could tear you limb from limb and you would feel everything but you would not die; even when you feel as if you are and pass out. You'll wake up whole again with maybe a new scar or two. It was brutal.

And she hated it. She wasn't new to Hell, not old enough to progress into sanity where you lose all the memory and humanity you had left like most of the souls and demons of the Pit. So it was worse off for her, she was deemed weak because she still held onto the thread of her humanity unlike those who had theirs turned off after centuries of dealing with the brutality and horror of the Pit.

That is not to say that she remained with memories of her life while alive, time did pluck them away little by little, but she knew that she had been loved by many people. She imagined that she had friends and family that missed her dearly but besides that; who she was, what her name was, what she loved to do...all of that was just a blurry mess. Not that she had much time to wonder about those things when the screams of the damned and demons alike invaded her cranium with their ungodly screeches bringing with it the iron grip of fear and need to run; run and survive another godforsaken day in the pits that never ended.

There was no redemption in Hell, only pain and suffering. So as she took on another day running from the pack of ferals chasing her with insatiable hunger in their eyes while they tracked the scent of her blood from the open wounds they had inflicted on her; she realized she was running straight through a red haze; like that of a red sand storm and her world went white...and then black.

When she came to, her entire body was aflame and her head swam as it pounded so hard she swore her skull would crack open and spill her brains out on the ground. In the haze of her pain, she heard voices around her and her instincts came to life. She moved weakly trying to find the ground beneath her feet but her body was weak and she stumbled. A pair of arms wrapped around her and her body slumped against the body belonging to it as her vision spiraled with black dots in her visions.

No, not black dots...masks. Her vision cleared little by little and she found herself staring up into the gleaming goggles of some kind of black mask belonging to a man who held her up on jelly legs. Words were being said; she couldn't make it out but she saw the fabric covering the person's mouth move so they must be saying something to her right? Were they not going to kill her or tear her apart? Why were they speaking to her?

"Rain bring her back to the dorms." a man's voice with an accent spoke up from somewhere in the room. "Let's get her cleaned up and settled in!"

She wouldn't have been able to call herself a survivor if she didn't at least try to struggle a bit when she listened to the words registering but the arms around her were firm and yet gentle as they held onto her squirming body; keeping her from herself herself.

"Hey, shh. It's okay, you're alright. You're safe honey!" the masked man - Rain, hushed her gently as he bent slightly to pick her up bridal style.

A blanket was draped around her by another figure before Rain carried her from the cold dark room and the bright lights of the hallway assaulted her sensitive vision. She whimpered and ducked her head feeling the pain behind her eyes from the light.

"Oh, I know sweetheart. It's okay, we'll get you taken care of!" another voice spoke up from beside her as a hand came into view to pull the blanket over her head a bit so that the light wouldn't bother her.

The sound of murmurs behind her faded as she began to get sleepy and she rested her head down against Rain's shoulder from the exhaustion of her summoning and the confusion of her appearance. She was almost fully asleep when the softness of a bed she laid on registered in her foggy brain and as the figures began to move away from the bed she felt the sudden urge to reach out and grab at them.

"N-no!" her words came out scratchy and filled with panic. "I don't...I won't want to be alone."

Rain hesitated before turning to look at his fellow packmates and then he unbuckled his helmet and set it down on the floor before he was crawling into bed beside her. The warmth of another living creature was a comfort she wasn't aware she had been craving until the solid weight of him rested on the bed beside her.

"Oh love no no need for the tears!" the same voice from earlier rushed out to say as a second figure knelt on the floor beside her. "Trust me, I know how it felt when I was first summoned. It's tough, but your safe. You'll be alright." a hand smoothed over her messy hair and she latched onto their wrist like a lifeline allowing the hot tears to fall as the feeling of overwhelming emotions rocked her life like a boat in an ocean.

The figure gently stroked her dirty face and wiped her tears away as Rain rested on the bed beside her letting out chittering sounds in hopes to soothe her. It was working, because before long...she fell asleep in the warmth of other living creatures; creatures that didn't want to kill her, and that was enough to let her exhaustion take hold and allow her to let go of her consciousness in favor of some proper sleep.

~

Hands were gripping her and voices were murmured somewhere in the darkness but when she opened her eyes she was met with two worried faces peering down at her. Her heart pounded heavy and painfully in her chest; her face must have reflected the terror she was relived when the figures crowded her in their warm embraces.

Rain and Phantom. They were safe. They were not trying to hurt her. She was at the Abbey back home in her bed. She was okay. But the terrors of her life in the pits haunted her every night for the past month that she resided topside and she was so sick of it. So tired of all the horrors that just never wanted to let go of her. She'd cried so many tears of pain and fear that she was surprised she hadn't cried herself a river to carry her away; not that they'd let her go anyway.

Ever since the day Papa had summoned her a month ago Rain and Phantom had been her rock to reality; the strength she clung to whenever she felt overwhelmed and overstimulated by the schedule that was placed in her lap. Swiss, Mountain, and Sodo- the other three within the group she's met a few days after her summoning had been worried about her and shared their kindness with her as they too tried to help her acclimate to the surface; remembering how awful it was in Hell. But it was Phantom and Rain who had been the ones who were often at her side.

Her terrors had gotten so bad that it was not a surprise that she ended up crawling into bed with one or both of them on the regular. Just like tonight, despite the safety she knew she had her terrors would not let her go and she clung to the only line she had - them.

"Hey, honey. It's okay, your okay!" Rain soothed like he did every time when she's wail and struggle as if fighting off demons only her mind could conjure up from her experiences in hell.

"That's that. You're not there anymore... you're here with us, you're safe." Phantom echoed as he stroked her hair as she clung to Rain's arm as he cradled her to his chest.

The room was dark - probably still night or early morning and she hated the fact she'd woken them up yet again knowing how tired they'd been between practice and caring for her unstable self.

"I'm sorry." she cried "I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up! I'm sorry I cause you guys to lose sleep! I'm sorry I'm so weak, I'm sorry-"

"Hey, none of that cupcake!" Phantom chided firmly as he cupped her face and wiped her tears away. "Rain and I don't give a fuck if we lose sleep. We just want to make sure you're okay! We'd never sleep again if it meant we could help you through this. You hear me cupcake?" Phantom's dark eyes searched hers and after a moment she nodded with hesitation.

"Never apologize for needing someone, sweetheart. You're our packmate now, you're our family. We'd do anything for you. You know that." Rain kissed her hair a few times and rocked her until her shaking ceased and her cries turned into sniffles.

"But I am weak, Rain. I can't let it go...I just-" she shuddered closing her eyes

"You're not alone." Rain murmured giving her a gentle squeeze. "You'll never be alone again. We'll get through this like we did all the other times. Trust me, we went through similar experiences when each of the others got summoned too. You think Phantom wasn't a handful when he was summoned?" he tried to lighten the mood and he was rewarded by a wet laugh as she desperately tried to wipe at the tears that didn't want to stop.

"Hey," Phantom shifted closer and studied her face. "Look at me, eyes on me. Hey, it's okay. You're safe. You're here with me and Rain in this moment, your safe okay?" when she nodded she was rewarded with a smile.

"I know I just...remembering that time..." her breath hitched and she clutched onto Rain's arm tighter as flashes of her nightmares resurfaced with her doubt.

"I know, but let's try getting you calmer okay? Let's try to get your breathing right. Will you breath with us?" he coaxed trying to distract her.

She nodded hesitantly.

"We know you can." Rain smiled nuzzling her head. "Breath in....and breath out." the feeling of his chest expanding as he took a breath coaxed her to match it as she inhaled shakily; never once letting go of Rain or ever taking her eyes from Phantom.

"Good, one more time. Breathe in...breathe out." Phantom echoed as he followed Rain's lead and matched his breathing to his packmates..

He smiled when she began to slowly calm down. "Good job baby. I need you to repeat after me okay?" she nodded again.

"I am safe. I am loved."

Her brows scrunched up a bit but her voice - hesitant and a bit shy repeated them but without much conviction.

"I am safe, I am loved."

Rain smiled slightly and shook his head as he took her hands and gave them a squeeze. "Gotta say it with more meaning honey. Got to say it like you mean it."

Phantom nodded along and repeated himself but put more infliction on it. "I. Am. Safe." he waited until she echoed his words; feeling a sense of pride when her voice came out less meek. "I. Am. Loved."

"I am loved." a small smile tugged at her lips despite how silly she now began to feel.

"Good job baby. I am so proud of you." Phantom matched her smile as he leaned over and planted little kisses all over her face until she was actually giggling and squirming in Rain's hold.

"We are so proud of you," Rain chipped in as he dug his fingers lightly into her sides until she was laughing and they laughed along. "So proud."

"You feel better now?"

The woman nodded wiping at her face and taking a deep breath. "Yeah.

"Good." Phantom crawled into bed and pulled her against his chest. Cradling her against him as he stroked her hair while Rain got settled against her back and wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her close.

Legs entangled together and tails curled around each other as the three settled back into bed. It was a silly notion to think that Darkling should have anything to fear anymore. Despite what she had gone through in the Pits; she no longer lived there. Papa had summoned her and given her a new purpose. Better yet, the best gift of all was a pack she would lean on and call her family instead of being alone and scared like she was before. She had nothing to fear living topside anymore and she may not believe it all the time as she still got used to her new lif. She knew for certain that even if she lost faith in herself; her boys never would.

"Love you guys." she mumbled nuzzling against Phantom and giving Rain's hand a squeeze.

"We love you too honey."

"Always cupcake."

[fourphoenixfeathers]

[Warning: violence, loss of self, dehumanization]

Fight. Bleed. Ignore the noise. Kill. Survive. Stay out of the fog. The fog makes it worse.

The fiend trembles with pain and rage. Bodies fall, only to flake away into purple dust that burns its eyes and eats its mind.

Don't look up. Don’t look at the void. The void looks back and sees it and is all around it and is inside it.

Its rage overflows and it burns like a blood-colored flame. It rains destruction on the simulated horde, crystalized hatred and agony pouring from the arm that doesn’t belong to it.

It might be screaming. It can't hear over the noise in its head.

The fighting stops. The red bleeds out of its vision. For a moment, it is empty and quiet and still.

Then the orb beeps and fighting starts again.

The ally is back. Freight. The fiend doesn’t have a name, but it feels right that she does. It doesn’t remember what Freight means. The jellyfish doesn’t mind. The name stuck.

She watches it fight from outside the bubble. She lingers in the fog, wrapping toxic tentacles around enemies too far for it to reach. She knows it hates to chase them out into the poisonous air. The orb accepts her kills as the fiend’s.

Pause. Follow the orb. Heal.

It goes to activate the orb again. It cannot stop it cannot stay still it must keep going. It doesn't remember why.

Freight pulls it back. Stop fighting. Rest. It squirms in her hold. Its head rings and pressure builds and its claws glow with unreleased energy.

She wraps a cool limb around its head and drapes another over its shoulders. The noise stops and the rage drains out and it can breathe. It is quiet. There is nothing alive in the simulacrum except for the fiend and Freight.

And then there is sound. Not from it. Not from the ally. Not from the orb. Somewhere else. It stands and looks out across the simulated plain. Green light cuts through the abyss, lightning arcing into the sky from a distant battle.

It stands. This is the first time it has seen anything like this. It needs to know. It brushes Freight's arms away and she follows as it throws itself into the fog.

Outside of protection, the void digs into it. It burns all the way to its heart where poison has wormed inside over days, months, years of exposure. It wrestles with the pain, forcing the corruption in reverse, healing the damage it caused. It rails against the injustice of the thing that has twisted him beyond recognition, invaded his body and mind and soul. It has become a part of him, it cannot hold him back anymore.

Freight warbles behind him as he nears his destination. A safe zone. There is another safe zone. The circle is filled with strange wriggling things that call to him. Some kind of distant familiarity. He has seen them before.

The moment of clarity is broken by the roar of a great beast. The fiend turns away from the circle and fights. It's sloppy. It can't focus on healing and battle at the same time. Freight covers his weakness, tearing apart anything that comes close with the ferocity that evades it now.

It doesn't realize when the battle is over. A voice is yelling. It has been outside for too long. Every inch of it burns. It hisses through its teeth and turns back to safety.

"Stay back."

The figure in the circle stops it dead. The source of the green light. The familiar voice. The cannons on the person's back are raised and ready to fire. It does not care. This person is not a threat.

"Maglev. Discharge."

The figure points at one of the eels drifting in lazy circles around the safe zone. The creature does not heed the order. The fiend does not move, save for its incessant trembling.

"What are you?"

It tilts its head. It was someone, once. It was someone to this man. This man is someone to it.

Who did it used to be? Who is he? He can't remember. He taps his claws on his helmet, the rhythmic sound ringing in the crack that exposed his only remaining eye to the air. For a moment, it drowns out the buzzing in his head. It is enough.

"Emmmmettt," he croaks. It's the only thing he's ever said outside of Freight's name. His voice is quiet and harsh like the death rattles of the countless creatures he has killed. The fog threatens to steal the word away from him, just as it has stolen everything else. It fails.

Emmet falters. His weapons fall back to standby and he rushes forward, dragging the fiend into the bubble. The relief is so powerful, he shudders as they cross the threshold.

"Ingo? Ingo is it really you? I can't-" Emmet babbles and holds him in his arms.

Ingo. He is not Ingo. He is Ingo. He doesn't know. Emmet decides for him.

"Have you been here this whole time?"

He doesn't understand, but he nods. He manages to whisper something that sounds vaguely like "always".

Emmet is crying. Ingo-Not-Ingo brings his left hand up and rests it on Emmet's helmet. He feels like there shouldn't be anything in the way. He should be able to touch him. But he is grateful for the barrier. His claws leave shallow scratches on the hard surface.

Emmet puts a hand over his. It's cool to the touch.

"I am Emmet. I found you. I am going to get you out."

He doesn’t know what “out” is, but he feels something when he hears the words, the conviction in Emmet's voice. For the first time since he can remember, he feels hope.

[Art by @raynavan] [First] [Previous] [Next]

[lucid-heart]

before the darkness

Lottie Matthews x Laura Lee

💧Lottie makes the wilderness give her back but at what cost? Was it worth it to doom her to a worst fate? 💧

WC: 1.2k+

masterlist • read on ao3 • request

A/N: here is submission for @lottieleeweekend Day 4: Free Choice ☺️ they are nothing if not tragic

CW: Implied Cannibalism, Main Character Death, Angst

The others try to persuade Lottie to come back to the cabin after Laura Lee's plane explodes in the sky. There is no way she survived, they say. They all watched as it rained burning metal across the lake.

But Lottie is stubborn. She shoves Jackie away, much to Shauna's anger. But she doesn't have time to deal with them right now. Not when each second she spends on the lake shore is another that Laura Lee spends alone out there.

She survived, Lottie can feel her. She doesn't know how or why but after everything, she is deeply connected to the other girl. She's out there. Somewhere.

"Lottie, come on," Nat says. "You can't just go out there and-"

"No. She's alive. I know she is," Lottie snaps. "If you don't believe me, stay here. I'll go find her myself."

Eventually, she manages to free herself from the group and then she's running. Someone yells at her but she barely hears them. She can't stay here. She has to find her.

Lottie runs around the edge of the lake, water splashing under foot. She wishes she could swim towards the crash but she knows this way will be faster. The wind whips through her hair and carries with it the scent of fire and ash. She follows it because where there is destruction there will be Laura Lee.

"Lottie!"

Someone behind her, closer now. Lottie casts a look back to see Shauna of all people running after her. Lottie thinks to run faster—she won't let Shauna stop her. But the look in Shauna's eyes tell her she doesn't want to stop her.

"I'm coming with you," Shauna pants as she catches up. "Jackie- She insisted. We can't leave you alone."

And Shauna, Jackie's obedient lap dog, didn't hesitate to chase after her. Part of Lottie is grateful to have another person with her. But she also worries that Shauna will slow her down. She doesn't feel her like she does. She doesn't understand who Laura Lee is. Something might be trapping them here but Lottie won't let it take her.

The purest of souls, she doesn't deserve to die this way.

"Fine. Keep up."

As she turns back around, Lottie catches Shauna rolling her eyes. But the other girl doesn't say anything but falls into place.

Lottie isn't unfit but the lake is large and Laura Lee got a fair distance before the explosion. She only hopes they'll find her before the sun sets. Once lost to the darkness, there will be no getting her back.

How does Lottie know this? She isn't sure. Maybe it was part of her visions. Maybe it's the feeling she has had ever since they landed that they are not truly alone out here.

But she pushes through and keeps running.

Shauna runs beside her, breath laboured but she doesn't slow. There's something comforting about the presence of another. Maybe this is what will save the two of them. A non-believer.

Lottie keeps running and by now the lakeside they all gathered on has faded into the distance. She doesn't see the others anymore. They've likely headed back inside. Grieving because they don't believe. They don't know.

Shauna follows her all around the lake until they finally catch sight of the wreckage. It lies strewn across the shore and floats across the water, fire still burning even when it shouldn't. No one should have survived.

"Lottie..." Shauna says quietly.

But Lottie isn't listening. She tears forward and searches the lakeshore for any signs of life. Nothing, not even blood. She isn't here.

But she's still alive. She has to be.

"Lottie, what are we-?"

Shauna isn't good at this. Lottie can tell she's trying to be sensitive and pull her back from her delusions but it isn't happening. Her heart is a violent drum in her chest. She can still feel her. She isn't on the lakeshore. So she just be in the water.

"Lottie, no!" Shauna yells.

But she's too slow to stop her as Lottie plunges into the lake.

The water is ice cold and her skin burns as she submerges. She can't see a thing but she keeps swimming. She descends into the dark where she shouldn't be, pushed on by the feeling in her chest. She's here. She's here.

She's-

Lottie reaches out a hand.

And hand closes around hers. And then it holds tight.

Lottie pulls and pulls, wrestling with fate to bring her back. And at first, fate resists. Her lungs burn but Lottie refuses to surface without her. The wilderness needs her. And maybe that's why she finally succeeds and tugs her up.

"Lottie!" Shauna screams from the shore. "Lottie!"

Laura Lee splutters in her arms, coughing up water and trembling with fear or the cold. Lottie pulls her to shore where Shauna is waiting. She doesn't let go. She can't. She can't trust it not to take her even now.

"How?" Shauna breathes.

But she's stripping off her coat to cover them.

By now, the shadows have begun to lengthen. Soon there won't be any light left to guide them home.

"We need to get back," Lottie says.

"You need to get warm, we can walk-"

"No! We need to get back now!"

Laura Lee looks up at her and there's understanding in her eyes. She struggles to get feet, still clinging to Lottie. The cold has begun to sink in now. But they can't stay here. It's too dangerous. They can't drag Shauna down too.

Shauna, seeming to realise that she won't be listened to, grumbles but grabs Laura Lee's other arm. Together they start to rush back. As they go, Lottie is painfully aware of how little time they have. She can't lose her. She has to save her.

"Thank you," Laura Lee coughs as they run. "Thank you."

Lottie can't manage a response. She hasn't saved her yet.

Shauna is a solid force beside them at least, helping to drag the shivering believers from the lakeside into the trees. Once they reach the woods, the cabin isn't too far behind. It's only when they've burst through the door and collapsed by the roaring fire does Lottie finally remember to breathe.

"What the fuck?"

The others gather around them, piling on blankets and helping them out of their soaked clothes. Lottie hates being detached from her but it's a necessity. The moment they're in dry clothes she's right back beside her.

The others gather around and they look guilty for not believing her. She doesn't blame them though. If it had been anyone but her, they never would have found her.

She tested the wilderness today.

And it reluctantly gave her what she wanted.

She doesn't know what price she'll have to pay for her but it doesn't matter. Lottie squeezes her hand. She has her here and now. That is something they'll have to figure out.

When Laura Lee draws the queen, Lottie feels her whole world shatter. She knew. She knew that one day the wilderness would take back what it was owed. She couldn't just take from it without paying something. And for months, she waited.

It chose her.

Was it worth it? To doom her to this fate?

"Lottie?"

Lottie closes her eyes and knows she can't save her this time. If not this hunt, then the next and the next and the next. It is inevitable. The wilderness wants her back. It will take her.

She opens them again and looks the most beautiful girl in the world in the eye.

"Run."

And as Laura Lee flees into the darkness, Lottie knows she is never coming back.

[doctorho]

Neon lights pt. 2

hi guys!!! here's a little gift for you on this fine evening✨✨✨

i hope you like it &lt;3

Viktor x gender neutral reader, 3k words, slightly nsfw

Summary: the quiz ends, but the night continues.

tags: @writingmysanity

The rest of the night goes like this:

You sit in his lap. 

You try not to think about it too much.

It's the only thing you can think about.

How close he was. What he'd said. What he felt like. How his hand on your hip held you close, the pressure of it burning through your thin clothes. 

And what would happen after the quiz was over. 

You didn’t know; you had no idea how they usually ended these nights when they were out. Did they just leave? Did they stay to drink and hang out? Did they go somewhere else?

You don’t know. 

You hope, deep in your bones, that the night would end up with some version of you and him being alone, but you don’t know. For all you knew he could just get up and go home as soon as they'd asked the last question, and it’s not like you could stop him. 

He answers questions, remarkably calm and collected, and occasionally his thumb traces a small circle on the side of your hip. Sometimes he says something so close to your ear that it makes you shiver.

The night ticks by, and all the thoughts and feelings you’re trying to ignore trickle down your spine. It’s impossible to ignore, the waiting. The anticipation. The wanting.

 You barely concentrate on the quiz, and as soon as it's over, you straighten your posture, waiting to see what the rest of them would do. Out of courtesy for Viktor, you've moved slightly further away from him, trying to be as non-distracting as possible – even if being a distraction to him is tremendously entertaining – and he leans back with a long, deep sigh. 

"Ready to get out of here?" Jayce asks, turning to look at him.

Viktor is silent for just a beat. He swallows, and licks his lips before answering. 

"Very much so."

Mel stretches, long and languid, like a cat, and then she stands up. "I'm ready to get out of this musty air." She says, running her hand over her hair lightly. 

You follow her lead and stand up too, hoping to make the whole situation as natural as possible. Like this was a totally normal, casual situation. 

Jayce stretches, too, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. 

For this, Mel gently nudges his leg. "And you're ready to go to sleep, apparently." She notes, and then turns to look at you. "He got up before five am today. Five. "

You lift your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly. "Why?" 

"Because he is insane," Viktor answers, earning a smile from you and a poor attempt at a lazy swat in his direction from Jayce. 

"We should go before the entrance gets crowded." Mel changes the subject, and this gets Jayce to sigh, open his eyes, and get up, taking her hand. 

Viktor grabs his cane and stands up too, very pointedly avoiding your eyes. You try not to read anything into that, but it still makes something in your soul sink a little bit. In the dark room, it doesn’t sting as much, but still.

You weave through people, your anxiety slowly creeping up your spine and growing heavier by the second. You don’t know what’s going on, you don’t know what’s going to happen, what could happen, but you can feel it slipping away from you; this fragile new something. This possibility. This warmth.  

You have to talk to him.

You have to get him alone, and you have to talk to him. 

Each step towards the exit has something in your lungs feeling heavier. You couldn’t predict what he would do when you got out, but you hoped it would be something other than ‘leave immediately’. 

When you get out, the cool fresh air hits you like a very pleasant wave. The night is dark and the city is alive; breathing, pulsating with music and people and blinking lights. It’s been raining, and the wet asphalt reflects all the neon lights back at you. 

It’s beautiful, in its own way. 

Shop signs and ads and decorations make everything around you glow, adding something you never see in daylight; all this dark. All these colors, breaking through. 

Viktor is bathed in golden light, soft and sparkling, and you forget to think for a moment. When he turns, the light catches his hair and the contours of his face, and he is so beautiful it almost hurts. 

Mel and Jayce break off almost immediately, both waving at you – Jayce yawning and Mel giving you a very pointed look – and this leaves you and Viktor standing outside the entrance alone, surrounded by a slow steady stream of people and a strange silence. 

He still doesn’t look at you. Just bows his head slightly, hiding in the shadows.

And you don’t know what to do. 

Usually, when you see him, the parameters of what’s happening are very, very clear. It’s always at school, or in the library, the lab, somewhere where you know what’s going on. You do your work, you help each other, you complain about the issues with equipment and materials and teaching, you get coffee sometimes. Until now, you’ve always just navigated situations where it’s clear that you’re friends. 

And now it’s not anymore. 

This is uncharted waters, and you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he seems to be deep inside his head somewhere. Somewhere you can’t reach. Not from where you were standing.

When he starts walking away from the bar, you follow, still unsure of what to do but thankful that he was going in the right direction. That way it didn’t feel as weird. But the way he was avoiding your eyes, and hiding in this newfound silence, it was obvious that something was wrong, and you hate it . 

As soon as you say his name to ask what it is, he speaks up too, at the exact same time.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He says, still not meeting your eyes. “We can pretend nothing ever happened.”

You blink in surprise, almost stopping at your tracks, and just stare at him. 

"Viktor," You repeat slowly, "the only reason I was uncomfortable was that we were in public and not alone." Your voice feels thin and weaker than you’d like, but you have to try. You have to get this across. 

You take a breath, “I don’t want to pretend nothing happened.” 

At this, he does stop. He stops, and turns to stare back at you. 

You both just stand there for a moment, in a random street corner, staring at each other, surrounded by silence and muted lights. 

"Do you think I would have stayed if I didn’t want to be there?" You continue.

There, in the bar.

There, with them.

There, in his lap.

He just looks at you, studying something you couldn’t see. 

"Societal pressure can have a very strong influence." He says, like it’s a fact. It probably is, in general – it just didn’t apply to your earlier actions.

The tone of his voice is level, reasonable, and a little bit detached. 

Like he's staying at an arm's reach, testing a hypothesis. Testing you.

"Yeah," You agree, casually, "but I still don’t do things I don’t want to do."

He looks at you for a moment, quiet. Like he's trying to decipher something. You could practically see the gears turning inside his head. 

You don’t know what he's thinking. But you can sense the unsure confusion, the blanks he's trying to fill in.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” You lick your lips and swallow around your nerves, "on the contrary." Then, you sigh a bit. “Viktor, you didn’t do anything wrong. I liked being close to you.”

He furrows his eyes slightly, like he’s thinking it through. 

“And this isn’t–” He says, tilting his head, “just a situation of…ease of circumstance?” Again, he sounds factual, calm. He's dissecting the situation, turning it around in his mind.

Now it’s your turn to be confused. 

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs softly with one shoulder. “I was there,” He explains, like it’s a perfectly reasonable argument, like this is what he expects to be the explanation, “it was convenient. Your friends ditched you, so maybe you were lonely. It makes sense.” 

You just look at him for a moment, trying to follow this explanation. You could see how he would think that, sure, but it wasn’t right. 

He takes a breath and looks away again. “I would understand if it’s just superficial. It’s fine if that’s the case. I don’t expect anything from you.”

He sounds like he’s already accepted it. That you couldn’t possibly want anything more. 

You take a deep breath. 

"Viktor," You say again, trying to silence your own self doubt and jumping straight into those uncharted waters, "I like you."

He blinks. 

You take a breath.

"I like you," you repeat, "and no, it’s not superficial. I mean, yes, you’re hot, but it’s not just about that. I like you because you’re kind, and funny, and smart, and nice to be around, and you try your best to help people even when you don’t need to, and you're so talented it’s amazing, and you get me and–”

He smiles a little, and the rest of the sentence fades away.

“...and I’m rambling.” You continue with a small sigh. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“I know!” You answer, “but you weren’t saying anything!” 

His smile falls, and he blinks. “Oh.” He says, like he genuinely just now realized it. “Well, I, uh, like you too. In case that wasn’t…obvious.”

He’s blushing again, and somehow, it warms you too.

You exhale, slow and deep, and meet his eyes again. “So what now?”

It’s a stupid question, you know. But with how the conversation was going, you weren’t capable of anything super smart right now. 

“I want a coffee.” He says, and, to his credit, this shocks you out of any residual anxiety that was still clinging to your spine, any residual awkwardness of the earlier situation. Any doubt that things were going to be weird between you forever.

“Been craving one the whole night.” He adds, sighing a bit and nodding towards a nearby drink cart, where the vendor was still out, no doubt precisely to serve people leaving the bars.

You smile, and fall in step besides him as he starts towards it. 

“Are you sure those things you drink qualify as coffee?” You ask, grinning through the words, knowing he was going to take the bait. 

“There’s three shots of espresso in it,” He defends, sounding a bit offended on the drink’s behalf, “how is that not coffee?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s like, 80% everything else.”

He exhales a hum as he walks up to the cart to get his drink. “I’m pretty sure that’s how most drinks work.” 

“Yeah, except yours is mainly whipped cream and caramel.” 

“And it tastes very good.” 

You smile, and lean to the cart as he gets his drink, warm and steaming, in a big takeaway cup. You can smell the caramel and spices in it from where you’re standing – sweet caramel and cinnamon, and something else that you don’t recognize. 

He moves away from the cart, stepping into a nearby shop corner to put away his money. There’s no-one there, and the corner is dim, quiet, carved away from the main street. The only light there is some runoff lighting from places down the street, bright neon signs in blues, pinks and purples reflecting off the windows and wet pavement and filtering through the air. 

He inhales deeply, smiles a little, and takes the first sip of his fluffy light brown drink. 

It leaves a strip of whipped cream on his upper lip. 

Deciding not to think about it too much, you reach up and sweep off the whipped cream with your thumb, bringing it to your own lips next, licking it clean. Whipped cream with a bit of caramel and coffee on it – and his baited breath.

He stares, and blushes, and you enjoy it thoroughly. It feels like time slows down, with the way he's looking at you. Like you’re the only thing there.

You smile. “You’re right,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you can, licking your lips, “it’s good.”

He holds your gaze, and takes a deep, slightly uneven breath. 

“You’re just going to do that without warning?” He asks, sounding genuinely a little surprised and a bit breathless. Which is a something that you’re going to treasure.

“Would you have preferred it if I’d kissed it away?” You ask, lifting one eyebrow and leaning a little closer, studying his reaction. 

More blush, another uneven breath, and slightly dilated pupils. 

Good. 

Time stands still for a moment again, as you just look at each other. 

And then he takes another sip. 

Recreating the scenario.

You raise your eyebrows slightly. It’s a challenge – and you’re going to take it. 

You lean closer slowly, and wrap your fingers gently around his coffee cup, nudging it out of the way, out from between your bodies. And then you kiss him.

Pressing your lips to the whipped cream first, you can feel the shaky exhale he lets out – and then when you kiss him properly, you can taste it. Caramel and coffee and cream, and him, and it doesn’t take long for him to inch closer and deepen the kiss. 

He makes a small sound somewhere at the back of his throat, and you can’t think. All there is is him, his lips moving on yours, soft and strong, his breaths mixing with yours, his body pressing against yours, and it’s him, it’s Viktor, and it’s so, so much more than you ever could have imagined. You run your hand up his chest, and the sound he makes in response makes you shiver – something caught between a whine and a growl – and you want to hear more of it. 

You’re storing every second of this to permanent memory, you’re drinking all of it in, you’re soaking in every point of contact and every small sound he makes. Your hand travels up to his hair, running through it, and his breathing falters.

Your world narrows down to this and only this; this moment, this small hideaway bathed in neon lights, this warm glowing lightness in your chest. His lips on yours.

He tastes like the drink, sweet and warm and dizzying, and when he moves from your lips to the side of your throat you feel like you melt. It’s a perfect, delicious pressure, his lips and tongue tracing over your skin, his teeth lightly grazing at your pulse point, and before you realize it you’re letting out a breathless, quiet moan. It would be embarrassing, probably, if his reaction wasn’t so good in return; he presses closer, and makes a sound you more so feel than hear, a quiet low growl that reverberates on your skin. It ends with an exhale, and a small quiet word that might be a curse, you’re not sure. Either way, it’s perfect, and makes heavy desire drip down your spine and pool at the bottom of your stomach. 

It’s sweet and heavy and perfect, and you want more of it.

“I wish I could touch you.” He breathes, words brushing against your skin, “but unfortunately my hands are full.” 

He says it casually, but this, too, is more than it sounds like; it’s a gentle offer to take the lead. He’s holding out the option to either diffuse the situation – or make something more of it. 

It’s up to you.

You sigh a little, and shift away enough to glance down; one hand holding the coffee, one hand gripping his cane.

“Pity.” you answer, “Think we could fix that?” 

He smiles, a little, and meets your eyes again briefly before looking somewhere past your shoulder. Then, he hums a little, thoughtfully. “I don’t live that far from here.”

You smile, and lick your lips.

This is an offer, too; one that you’re going to take. 

You hum through your smile, and take the coffee from his hand gently. He lets you take it, and doesn’t say anything when you bring it to your own lips, taking a slow sip.

“Good.”

Next (i lied this has more than two parts now)

[yuulina-vre]

Fear - Chapter four

Summary: Y/N lives the life she always dreamed about. a job she loves, a fiancé that does everything for her, and a house she dreamed of. There are hiccups on the way, but Y/N's still pretty satisfied with where she stands in life. Though a word can be powerful, especially if it's said to the wrong person. Y/N would never have thought that she ever gets to experience how bad it can turn out. For her and the loved ones around her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, panic attacks

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

The rain rattles against the window. Fast, strong, and loud, driven by strong gusts of wind. A few branches of the big tree in front of the window bang against it now and then, creating a horror soundtrack for the sleep-driven mind.

I open my eyes, feeling somewhat unfocused for a moment. I rub my eyes tiredly, feeling like I’ve only been asleep for an hour, though I can’t really remember when I even fell asleep. Everything from leaving Wanda to now is a bit fuzzy. Thankfully I’m alive and not in a hospital or crashed somewhere on the street.

I rub my eyes a few times, nuzzling back into my pillow. I try to remember what I did after getting home. I know my energy level was near to empty, so I probably had just enough strength to lock the door and get up the stairs. I can’t remember if I even turned the lights on. From the heap of clothing on the floor, I know that I must have undressed at least. A quick glance under the blanket reveals me in practically nothing but my panties and a pretty short and revealing tank top. So, I got in my sleep shirt, at least. Huh.

Though I doubt that I took a shower. My hair’s dry, and with such low batteries, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stay any longer than necessary.

I practically fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. That much is clear.

Sleep-drunk, I turn around again, this time to look at my other side, searching for a body that should be lying there, warming my back, snuggling, and pulling me into a warm embrace. Protect me from raging storms outside and nightmares inside.

But Bucky’s not there.

The bedside me is as cold as if he had left it hours ago. I rack my brain to try and remember if he even had been in bed when I crawled in. If he had been home at all. But I come up empty. If he’s on night shift, he won't be home till at least eight in the morning.

A sigh leaves me that sounds more defeated than I feel. Just a few more hours, and I can make up with Bucky. Apologize and coddle him. Maybe even with a nice breakfast?

I snuggle up into my blanket and pull Bucky’s sleeping shirt up to my nose, inhaling the familiar and calming scent. It smells intensely of him, of his aftershave, a bit earthy but pleasant, as if he had worn it just a few minutes ago. It’s so incredibly calming. I slowly fall back into a light slumber, thinking of the morning when I will see him again. Of his eyes, his smile, and the tight hug I’ll wrap him in.

But then I get an oppressive feeling. Something feels off. Different. It’s weird. I can't really point out what it is, but it makes me feel uneasy, haunted. As a child, I would imagine red eyes behind my window, creepy figures under my bed, or a monster in my closet. Now I know that all these things aren’t real and for the eyes, no one can look into the windows on the first floor.

My dream from hours ago pops back into my mind, and panic grips me again. Is someone in the house? A burglar? A killer?

Instantly my eyes are wide open, staring into the darkness of the bedroom without seeing much. All the sleepiness and tiredness I felt seconds ago is blown away. My senses are sharpened instantly.

The smell in our room is somehow different than usual. However, I can’t really pinpoint what exactly smells different. Otherwise, nothing’s moved, there’s no noise in the house, and even the stupid neighbor's cat meows her little soul out of her body, like every night, even despite the rain and harsh wind.

Everything’s the same. The fact that everything seems to be as it should doesn’t reassure me at all. Instead, all these little facts increase my panic and fear. There’s nothing unusual in this room, and yet I know something is wrong, like someone’s watching me. Should I go check it out? No, you're crazy. Just because you can't hear anything doesn't mean there's nothing here. Go and hide! Or call Buck.

I look around, contemplating where to hide. Under the bed and in our walk-in closet are pretty obvious hides. In every novel and horror movie are theses the hiding places victims go for. So, I look further around. A chest of drawers, a mirror, bedside tables, lamps, the small couch at the foot of the bed, bathroom.

Where should I go now?

At lightning speed, I reach for my smartphone, which has been charging on my nightstand, grab my robe from the foot of the bed, and run to the bathroom door. I rip it open, rush in, press it close again, and quickly run the lock. I look around in a panic. What's next?

I know that such a small thin door won’t hold possible intruders off for very long. If someone wants to get in, they will. One way or another.

My eyes flicker around, but even in this room aren’t as many hiding options. I could squeeze beside the toilet and the wall, try to empty the towel cupboard and squeeze in there or sit down in the bathtub. I decide to take the bathtub, even though it's not better than hiding in a closet. I pull the dark blue shower curtain close to protect myself from possible glances, risking that I can’t see anyone incoming as well.

Just then, I manage to take in a somewhat steady breath. I begin to tremble because suddenly, despite the warm summer temperatures, I am freezing cold. Restless, I look in the direction the door is in.

“It's okay, Y/N. No one's getting through. You locked the door. I guess your fantasy is playing games with you, and you're scared for no reason. And now you’re talking to yourself, great.” Trying to talk courage to myself… doesn't work.

It never has for me. I usually need someone else to hold me, talk to me, and calm me down. And usually, this someone is Bucky or my brother.

This feeling I have now, though, is not entirely new. I’m just not used to it anymore, haven’t felt it in a long time. I always was good at feeling when something is different around me. When people are oppressed and don’t want to show it to anyone. If someone lies, it’s even easier. I usually know it instinctively, but I never say anything. I have learned that sometimes it's better not to dive into things or talk about them. I can feel changes in the atmosphere of rooms, which doesn’t necessarily mean I know what’s wrong. I just know something is wrong, just like now.

My gaze wanders through the room again, slower this time. No weapons are recognizable except for Bucky’s razor or my hairbrush. The display of my phone flashes briefly. A text from my service provider. Bucky smiles at me from my lock screen, and a big wave of longing overcomes me. Suddenly it hits me.

Bucky!

I quickly enter the pin to unlock my phone, redoing it two times because of my shaking fingers, but finally, I manage, and a picture of Bucky and myself flashes in front of me. It’s from the day he proposed. I was so happy. Steve had made the picture and sent it to me later on. Bucky has me tightly wrapped in his arms; my feet are lifted off the ground as he swings me around. Or faces showing all the happiness in the world.

I quickly click on the icon for my address book, then find Bucky among my favorites, and without hesitation, I click on it. I don’t think about it, don’t think about the possibility that I might be overreacting and disturbing him. My brain is frozen in panic, and all that might be of help is him. I can feel my chest hurting with my fast breathing, which makes my mind panic a bit more. I curl into myself, trying to make myself as small as I can as it rings and rings. The robe is thrown on my lap, a weak attempt to keep my bare legs warm against the cold bathtub. The call rings and rings, but then, finally, his voice.

“Y/N, sweetheart. Hi.” Bucky sounds surprised, and I don’t blame him. After a week of radio silence, and now suddenly, I’m calling him in the middle of the night with heavy breathing, I probably would be surprised too. “Why are you awake? Though you would be sleeping by now.” He stops speaking as if waiting for an answer, but all I can do is listen to the silence while I still try to calm myself down enough to even breathe normally. “Um… Listen, doll. It’s bad timing right now. Can we talk when I get ho-”

“Bucky!” It bursts out of me, sounding more breathless than I would like but still loud enough that I wince. My eyes fly to the bathroom door, despite the curtain blocking my view. “C-come home. Please,” I whimper, and I know it sounds pathetic. “S-something’s wrong. I’m scared. Please!” Suddenly his voice becomes deadly serious, and he falls into a professional attitude that he rarely shows to me. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“N-no.” I feel the tears finally welling up, and I sniffle. My throat blocked with unshed tears. “S-somethings off.”

“Is someone in the house?”

“Yes. N-no. I-I don’t know, Bucky.” A sob breaks loose, and I quickly try to stifle it by shoving my free hand to my mouth to cover it. “P-please come home.” I sob aloud again, feeling the tears run down my cheeks. There was a brief silence. Then his voice sounds again. “Okay, sweetheart. Try to calm down for me, yeah? I’ll leave right away. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Are you somewhere safe?” I start nodding until I remember that he can’t actually see it, so I stutter out a short reply. “B-bathroom.”

“Okay, that’s great. I want you to stay there and be as silent as you can. I’ll be there in a few and get you. Okay?” Silence, then he asks again. “Okay, doll?”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

“Good… I love you. Everything will be all right. I promise.” And then silence; not even his breathing can be heard, just the steady beeping of a dead line. He hung up. I take a few seconds to try and breathe, to stop the tears flowing while my fear has a tight grip on my throat, squeezing it shut with each inhale I try to take. And then the guilt slams in. What am I doing? What if I just imagined this? What if he comes home for nothing?

My thoughts wander back and forth, unable to decide between ifs and buts. It adds to my panic. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, feel my throat squeeze shut. In a last attempt to calm down, I wrap my robe around me. It aids as a calming blanket and keeps me as warm as a flimsy thin fabric can. But even that only manages to comfort for a minute or two before the spiraling starts anew.

I can feel the full-blown panic attack. Shivers run through my body, leaving me cold and sweaty. My breathing is so fast and erratic that it almost feels like I'm not breathing at all. My grip is tight on my phone, so it might break.

Blood rushes through my ears, so loud I’m not really able to hear anything past it. In general, all my senses seem to be subdued to the barest minimum. Since the lights are shut off as well, I can’t really see much anymore. And every sound that might be in the bathroom is strangely distorted and echoey.

Doubt spreads, even though I had never been wrong with my assumptions, at least not gravelly. Surely there are occasional situations in which I am not on point. Scared when I think someone is around, and it turns out it’s just a stray cat or a raccoon in our trashcan. After all, I'm not a psychic, and no one is infallible. Nevertheless, I am right more often than not. Oh, how I hope that this time is no different.

I can't tell how long I've been sitting there, squeezed as small as I can be, clinging to my phone and robe. My eyes are squeezed shut, so tight that I can already see stars dancing. My chest hurts, rising with quick, harsh breaths that don’t provide enough air. My head is fuzzy, and I feel dizzy and nauseous. A whimper leaves me as I hear something. A sound, almost like a banging.

More banging, like doors that are pushed open with such a force that they hit the walls. The thump of something falling over. Heavy footsteps in the house. Something pounding and rattling breath sounds nearby. The dripping tap seems unnaturally noisy in the otherwise silent room, and in the window, I imagen seeing eyes. Red, dark, and evil, lingering for me to be inattentive just to strike then.

My skin tingles with tension, and it feels like hundreds of small ants are walking over it. I shudder, burying my face deeper into my knees, bending more forward. It gives me more security, though it makes it harder for me to breathe than it already is. Somewhere in my mind, I recognize that I might pass out if I don’t calm down anytime soon.

I try to concentrate on my surroundings, try to find four things I can feel. My skin, my phone, the robe, the bathtub.

Three things to smell. “Candle. Bucky’s shaving cream. S-soap.” I start whispering, hoping that my own voice might calm me, though it’s nothing more than a breathless sound in the air.

Two things to hear. “Thunder. F-footsteps.” With wide eyes, I realize that I don’t just imagine them. They are really here. Someone is really walking through our house! A panicked sound escapes me; my eyes transfixed on the spot of the curtain I know the door is behind.

The handle of the door turns. I can hear it rattling, and the slight squeak Bucky still hasn’t fixed. Scared, I hold my breath, not able to look away, though it quickly throws me into a coughing fit that I try to stifle. My chest hurts as if someone squeezes it so tightly that I can't properly inhale.

It turns once again. Absolutely frightened, I let a squeak slip, instantly slapping a hand over my mouth to silence myself. Someone knocks on the door, with more and more force.

Then, boom. Boom.

I flinch violently, hitting my head against the tiled wall but don’t dare even to make pained noise. My nerves can't take it anymore. I watch the handle turn again, and I don't know what comes over me, but suddenly hysterics overwhelm me, and I start screaming while hiding in my own legs again. “Go away! Leave me alone… Please.” The last word is nothing more than a frightened whisper. Tears stream down my cheeks, my own crying ricocheting from the walls, sounding louder than they should be to my oversensitive ears. I throw my phone somewhere to my feet to cover my ears, shutting out any kind of noise. I slowly rock back and forth.

“Doll! Y/N! Open the door. It’s me. It’s Bucky! I brought Sam.”

“No. No! Go away. Leave me alone!” I cry out, shaking my head, hoping to drown out the false voice. “Y/N, please. Listen to my voice.” I shake my head. I don’t want to listen. I want them to go away, to leave me alone. I want Bucky.

“You called me fifteen minutes ago. You said there’s something off. Remember? I came as fast as I could.” A hand slaps softly but urgently against the door. Pleadingly. “Please let me in.”

I kinda do recognize the voice. It’s so familiar, so comforting. “B-bucky?” I whimper his name, it’s no more than a silent breath, but he still hears it. “Yes, doll. Can- Can you open the door for me, baby?”

Nothing keeps me in the tub, then. I scramble up and shove the curtain away, almost stumbling over my robe as I practically jump out of the bathtub. The rug slides a bit on the floor, sending me stumbling to the door. I crash into it but ignore the pain in my right shoulder. My hands tremble so badly as I try to grab the key. It slips out of my hand for a second, falling to the floor and slithering a few inches away from me.

Whimper after whimper leaves me as I pick it back up and fiddle with the lock until, finally, the heavenly sound of the door unlocking sounds. I throw the door open and instantly fall into the open arms that await me, not even checking if it’s actually Bucky. The warm embrace is comforting, though, and the smell that instantly hits my nose lets me know that the man is who he said.

I start wailing like a frightened animal. I sob and cling to him, bury my face in his chest and my nails into his shirt as his arms come around me, surrounding me with a feeling of calmness and safety. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’re safe.” He speaks softly to me, lips brushing against my hair and ear, hands drawing patterns on my back.

Slowly he guides us back to the bad, step for step. I barely feel him sitting down and pulling me on his lap. My senses are filled with the comforting smell and familiar touch of him. Just him.

Just my Bucky.

Taglist:

@cjand10

[sidhewrites]

20! I've lost the plot completely! It's fine! It's the first draft and things will be better in the rewrites! Who's ready for SKELETONS

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By the time Josie and Lucy are at my front door, I barrel through them both, shaking off the feeling of dread that comes with walking through Lucy, tailing the quickly-fading trail of what I assume to be ectoplasm. Magnus has taken Renfield back out into the night, across the street, and right back to the graveyard, which has me feeling a little crazy for going back and forth so many times. He's gone right past the main walkway, past the old church, and into the oldest parts of the graveyard -- the ones that even I don't visit. 

Wild roses and scrub grow thick and thorny, choking the rotting fence of the churchyard. There's a grim buried here somewhere, and I can't help but flinch at the sudden shadow that leaps out at me from the darkness. A massive, shapeless thing that barks like a dog. I barrel past it, hoping it understands that I'm not here to disturb the dead but return one specific dead back to his eternal rest.

I hop the fence, hissing as splinters burrow into my hand, and follow Magnus through the overgrowth. Thorns and twigs pull at me, but I don't have time to care. I can't lose him. The footprints fade too quickly, and I trip over my own feet at the last minute, falling face-first into the dirt and bolting back upright with a curse.

But, at least, there's no need to run anymore. Magnus has come to a stop. He sits in the moonlight, a perfectly white cat now, eyes trained on a moss-worn hunk of stone.

"Your grave." Why come here? What's he trying to do?

He twitches, but doesn't turn to face me. "Do you know what is inscribed on this headstone?"

"R-I-P?" I guess.

He snorts -- then sneezes and coughs at the attempt at breathing through a nose like Renfield's. "Magnus Sunthorpe. Loving father and husband. May he rest in peace."

"Okay, so, yeah. RIP." I sit up slowly.

"Do you know why we bid the dead a peaceful rest, Miss Kaz?"

"Are you seriously gonna start monologuing again?"

"Not quite," he says. A deep laugh rumbles from Magnus's chest.

"What--" 

Before I can say any more, the ground beneath our feet start to rumble. Something whacks me in the back of my head and I yelp. By the time I recover and look up again, bits of debris and loose stone float around the ruined gravestone.

"As we get closer to Hallow's Eve, young Kaz, we ghosts grow more powerful. I'm sure your lady friend has felt things change, eh?"

The very air seems to come alive, pins and needles shooting along my limbs as the smoke starts up again, emanating from the long-settled grave dirt. Cracks begin to appear, and far below the ground, something begins to knock.

"What are you doing?"

"Means to an end, darling girl. Means to an end."

Josie and Lucy finally arrive behind me. Josie grabs hold of my shirt and drags me out of the way just as the ground explodes. We fall backwards, through Lucy, and in a pile on the ground. Stone and soul rains down on us, and I do my best to shield her from the worst. Once it ends, we look up, shaking off the heebie-jeebies, to see the grave standing open.

Beams of light shine out from the old coffin at the bottom of it. Something inside thumps, knocking on the ancient wood. It's weak at first, still gathering strength. And then, after a moment, it knocks again. A single skeletal fist bursts out, then the other. It rips at the wood, throwing planks aside, before it stands up, still wearing the half-rotted funeral suit it had been buried in.

Magnus-the-cat levitates in front of Magnus-the-Skeleton. [Fancy magic shit happens. Magic light.]

When the light fades, it's just Magnus-the-Skeleton, standing in his coffin.

Renfield's body lowers to the ground slowly, lifeless. I don't care about anything else -- no weird ghost magic, no potentially murderous walking corpse. Nothing but my poor, stark-white cat.

I scoop him up into my arms, holding him close, my own pulse hammering as I try desperately to feel for his. I can't breathe, can barely think -- until I find it. Faint and fluttering, but there.

He's okay.

My baby boy is okay.

I look up, seeing Magnus-the-Skeleton brush off his fancy old-timey pants and pick up a fancy old-timey top hat. He puts in on, almost dignified. And then he looks up at me, green pinpricks of light forming eyes in his empty sockets and filled with a venomous glee.

"Hello, dearest Kaz," he says, teeth chattering together. He takes a step forward, and I think for a second that he's going to scramble out of the grave clumsily. But there's no awkwardness or uncertainty here. Magnus simply flicks his wrist, and he begins to levitate, floating up and out of the grave. Some of the glowing dust around him coalesces, forming into something resembling skin to hold the skeleton together, though his bones remain all-too-visible underneath.

And as Magnus finally comes to land on solid ground before me, I feel myself lifted up in turn, pulled by unseen spectral hands until I'm on my feet as well. I hold Renfeld closer, jaw set as he looks me over with those uncanny eyes.

"You really are a curiosity, aren't you?" he says, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

I'm a bit at a loss at the moment, so I simply settle on, "God...you're, like, really ugly man."

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say to a magical ghost-skeleton-man bent on silencing the town forever, because Magnus simply scoffs, and waves a hand. I'm thrown aside, turning to land on my shoulder and keep Renfield safe.

"Kaz!" Lucy shouts, running my way.

"Not a chance." Magnus waves another hand, and she's thrown in the opposite direction.

"Leave her alone!" I sit up with a snarl. "Josie, take Renfield and get somewhere safe."

"Like hell I am. I'm the only one who has half an idea of what to do here."

"And, pray, what would that idea be?" Magnus steps in between us, folding his hands in front of him. "Come now, girls. Don't leave me out of the fun."

[Something. Kaz tells Josie to go get the book.]

"I wouldn't try that if I were you." Magnus flicks his wrist again, and a bolt of ghostly energy flies her way. 

But rather than knocking Josie off course, it simply hits her in the back. She grunts, but shrugs it off with little more than an ow.

Magnus tries again. This time, Josie faces him and takes the attack in the chest. Something glows around her neck, and she smirks, gesturing to the [protective gem] pendant around her neck. "You'll have to do better than that," she says.

While she's distracted, I throw myself bodily at Magnus, giving Josie the chance to get the spell book.

Even as Magnus throws me off him, I can't help but watch her go in confused awe. "Crystals," I say. "Who knew?"

"Kaz--?" Lucy says, giving me just enough time for Magnus to throw a solid kick to my jaw, and mutter under his breath. The blow leaves me with a split lip, and I spit the blood his way, hoping if nothing else that it stains his gross old funeral pants.

"Enough," Magnus hisses. "I have work to do." He raises an arm, and this time, a wave of ectoplasm rises up from his grave, colorless light shining from within. 

At first, it seems like nothing happens, save for a bit of dirt falling into the empty hole.

And then more dirt. A bit of grass. A few loose rocks.

Soon enough, it becomes clear. The grave is sucking things into it, a black hole to swallow the town whole.

Tag List

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@halfbloodlycan

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[huntinglove]

🌧 rain, ☄️ comet, and 🌈 rainbow for your choice of s/i! ✨️

Hi hi!! Thank you so much for the ask!!

🌧️ Rain: What was the saddest moment in your lore for you/your self-insert? Who in canon knows about it?

In A Double Sided Mirror Erica moved to a new town after a bad break up with her ex, she caught them cheating and it completely broke her heart.

She's an impulsive person so she just gathered a few of her things and got herself in a whole new country instead of just moving towns.

The nervousness of being somewhere so unfamiliar and having no one to fall back on is genuinely horrifying to her, but she's been slowly opening up to new friends, one of which being Jeremy.

He's one of the only people who knows the vulnerable spot she's in, especially considering that he's the one who managed to get her to stop drinking. They became friends because of how often she visits his work!

Charlie also knows about this, but she has no idea that he does just yet.

☄️ Comet: What was a moment where you/your self-insert really shined? This can be a badass moment, a moment where you felt important to the overall lore, or just a really cool and important moment!

In Adventure Time and Fionna & Cake it's pretty rare to see Ocean Princess fighting, but when she does it's something genuinely mesmerizing!

Her emotions usually speak over her reasoning which makes her just absorb as much water nearby as she can possibly reach, it makes her very large, like a kaiju

No ability is spared when she's in combat. Tentacles, multiple limbs, waves as tall as buildings, a giant maw full of sharp teeth, tridents and spears, she'll use it all to take down anyone in her way

Even the bravest of heroes have a reason to fear the ocean, not because of the water, but because of who, what, lies beneath it.

🌈 Rainbow: What was the happiest moment in your lore for you/your self-insert? Who all shared that happiness with you in canon?

In Hazbin Hotel, it was definitely the moment Eris was able to see Pentious again!

She had been summoned to heaven after they had been sending each other letters back and forth, thanks to Emily, so Eris was scared that they made her go there so she could be publicly executed or something along those lines...

However, when she saw Emily and Pentious waiting for her she couldn't hold herself back from just grabbing on to his suit and pulling him in for a kiss. He was real, he was alive, he was still hers!

Both of them cried a lot and her visiting day was all about them catching up and making up for lost time. They couldn't be taken from each other until the very last moment. Eris was incredibly well behaved and kind while in heaven, after all she's technically a hellborn, not a sinner!

Sera and Emily can research what will happen if a hellish and a heavenly being interact. Will she corrupt Pentious or will he help redeem her soul? Whichever the case may be, she's just overjoyed to be able to have her lover in her arms again

[lady-lycany]

The list with my most important and noticable identities that I've mentioned yesterday. I knew it would become more text so feel free to read only what interests you the most :}

Let's start with the Werewolf which is the most common here. There was a time in life, where I heavily tried to deny it but never really succeeded. But in that time, it was more the desire to howl and to be on all fours. To be free. But I dealt less with phantom limbs like ears and tail (which are now again almost always there. Especially the ears) I count my multiple fantasy worlds into this one section cuz, yea it's all wolf. Doesn't matter if it's Wolf's Rain, Wolfblood, Teenwolf or the story with Mark, that I've going on for about half a year now lol. As I got older, I noticed, that not only I definitely don't want to be in the alpha role, but also, that I was wrong with only wanting to be a wolf. That's the problem of being a werewolf. When you're too long in the role of a human, you'll eventually need a break, but so the same with only being a wolf. You'll always need both in your life, but at the same time you'll never really belong somewhere.

InuYashas Wife. Yea, it's stupid to be in love with someone fictional, I'm aware, but even tho, I still can develop crushes on other guys, my heart still somehow belongs to him. He saved my life and spent so many ears on my side, that when we went different paths, it felt like a part of my soul left me. It got so quiet in my mind (so quiet, and lonely, that I became depressed again). I still miss him and wish I wouldn't have fcked it up (which was more the fault of my ex bestie, but I realized that a bit too late). Two years ago, I fought my blockage and spoke to him for the first time again, because he came up to me with the information, that he has a daughter now. I instantly developed mother feelings for her. I still hope, that we'll get closer together in the future again, but right now it's probably for the best if we stay apart. It hurts, but I pretty much got used to it. I still can't really rewatch the anime or amv's. It's not as bad as it was a few years ago but yea. The feelings are still there and there's still a part of my soul missing that he took with him.

Then we have Invisible Vectoria (short VEC). Some people might heard of her before. She's my OC kin and a mix between Laughing-Jack and a Diclonious. Just as I miss to run on all fours and have a tail and ears, I miss my vectors pretty badly. She was the part of me, that pushed my werewolf-self aside and made me deny it. She was the one, who was my salvation and my curse at the same time. Because she was there, I could let out all the madness in my mind without actually living it out (Even tho, she wanted to do it so badly). She was the main character of my stories that I wrote, where she could do everything she wanted. Now I'm in a state, where I try to deny her again, but it's just not so simple. Violence still kinda turns me on. I don't want to feel like that but yea... Just as I never really got rid of being a werewolf in the times where I tried to, I can't get rid of her.

Then there's the Shinigami (Kuroshitsuji) part of me. The only dream job I felt like was made for me, was being a shinigami. If I had the validation that, just as in the anime, suicide would turn you into a shinigami, I wouldn't have hesitated at all. In that time I met Eric and Alan, which are still the most important beings in my life. It already hurt when Inu left me. But if these two would leave me, I wouldn't know how to stay alive. ((Grell was my best friend back then until my exbestie forced me into a relationship with him. So he was the reason, why I felt like I cheated on Inu. Stupid huh? I know. But that's how loyal I am.)) I spend many years in the Shinigami role, and I truly miss it. I'm thinking about rewatching the anime, but I know what will happen- I will have shifts of that personality for a looong while again and many many bittersweet memories will flood my mind. I can bet on that lol. Oh yea, also, for the first time, I was glad, that I had glasses myself. The werewolf side always hated them and their unnatural feeling and so, when I was a kid, my mom had to train me, to keep em on. Every evening, when I kept my glasses on for a day, I got a little toy figure. Like a dog gets a treat when he did what he was supposed to lol. I still wish, that I wouldn't need them, but the shinigami part of me was proud and happy and I could accept them for the first time.

And also the dragon(rider) from httyd. I would say I'm more of a rider but I still wonder, where my phantom wings come from, that I have from time to time lol. I had already multiple dreams of riding on the back of a dragon and also own two Skrill dragons. Well, one is more like a good friend who visits me often but still lives free. And then there's my Skrill kiddo, that hatched from an egg in my presence. She's completely pink (the underside of the wings and her chest are light pink. I already posted a pic of her here) but her eyes are more blueish. I called her Nyssa (which translates to Fairy) and she's not the best when it comes to flying. She's still very clumsy, but I think she'll get better the older she gets. Me and Dagur were best friends and he also teached me how two write in ruins. I also miss this world a lot cuz I rarely spend time there.

And last but not least we have Spirit (stallion of the cimarron). To be honest, I still don't know if he's an actual kin of mine, but I still have a strong connection to him, the movie and the soundtracks. Every song fits perfectly to me or a situation I was in. His whole life story kinda happened in my life as well. Of course not in the literal way. More theoretically. The song "get off of my back" was translated into "bleib bloß von mir weg" which means "just stay tf away from me" in german and so all lyrics could also connect to my werwolf side.

There are also still some other things like the whole thing with the fallen angel, something zombie like and the phantom wings but I still can't seem to figure them out.

All these things are still a big part of who I am, but in the last years, I always put my werewolf-self in the front and put anything else back. And I'm not able to connect them all. I mean how would I? But it annoys me, that if someone would ask me "hey I can send you into a reality that you want the most" I couldn't respond and wouldn't know which one to pic. I want the body of a werewolf, but so I want vectors. I couldn't live without Eric and Alan but also would forever miss and hate myself for not picking Inu. And watching my little dragon grow up and live a life so free on the back of a dragon, who would want to miss that? I really couldn't decide.