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ashesofivory · 1 year

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HIS SUNSHINE - PART 2/2 ☀️

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier Peña is everything but a perfect man- he knows, but he’ll never admit his biggest regret amongst all, was losing you.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings: mentions of smut, heartbreak, mild angst, regrets, breakup, both points of view, general sadness, sad ending.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away.

A/N: Sorry for not uploading sooner! I've been quite busy with a lot of stuff recently, I've written this in the few little breaks I have had, I promise. Also, I've had a rough time writing this, because I didn't want to see sad/heartbroken Javi. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it as much as you can. 💌

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With slow and shaking steps, you felt your heart break slowly, knowing that, as hard as you tried, you wouldn’t be able to fix it. Maybe it was all a mistake? Maybe you should try and stay here, probably quit the job and find a new one… But deep down, you knew you couldn’t convince yourself, it was too late to go back, and you didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

You finally left his apartment, your cheeks wet and shiny from your tears, which were still making their way down your face as you got in your car, to drive to your place for the last time.

After a hard time trying to open the door with your shaky, slippery hands, you managed to open it, being welcomed by the cold atmosphere of your apartment, almost empty by this point. you went ahead and started packaging the few things you had left lying around; toiletries, phone and laptop chargers, and photos.

Who would have thought something as simple as some polaroids and cheap frames would be the last straw? There were photos of your family, both recent and old, photos of you as a baby, taking a soapy bath, or on your 4th birthday, with cake all over your face, a bright, shiny smile on your face; but lastly, of course, there were photos of you and Javier, doing all kinds of things. Like a photo of you two on his desk, cocking an eyebrow at the camera, back to back, your arms crossed over your chest. Another one in which he has an arm wrapped around your waist, you looking away with a smile on your face, all red and flustered. For sure, happy memories, but at that moment, they felt bitter, sour even, because you knew that from now on, they'd become distant memories, which would probably end up in a box, at the end of a closet, in a dark, dusty corner.

You placed all the photos inside a box, along with some bubble wrap, and wrote "PHOTOS" on it, closing it with some tape, so that they would be safe in the moving process. You did the same with the rest of the boxes, the end result being over 20 boxes with your stuff by your front door. You took a minute to think to yourself. "How could 7 years fit in some cardboard boxes? How was it so simple?" you asked yourself.

However, there was a box on top of the kitchen isle, with an address written on it, one you knew perfectly, Javi's apartment. His name written in capital letters on one of the sides, in black Sharpie. You took one last glimpse inside of it; some of his clothes, which he had left in your apartment after spending the night, some mugs that he liked from your kitchen, the ones he used to drink coffee in, some of his favorite vinyls from your collection, which you two used to dance and sing to when you cooked dinner, or even some dried flowers from the first bouquet he gifted you. There were also work-related things, mostly files from the Medellin Cartel case, and some post-its that you had written, with special annotations about the case, hypothesis, ideas, suspicions...

Once you were finished, you closed the box again and head straight to bed, getting under the cold bed sheets, a slight hint of Javier's perfume on them, making you tear up a bit, but eventually, becoming comforting enough to turn it into a velvety smell, calming you down, taking you back to the good times you had spent together, in company, loving and feeling loved. Before you closed your eyes, you swore you heard Javier's faint, deep voice, wishing you "buenas noches", as he usually did.

✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, shutting it down immediately, groaning a bit, annoyed to wake up, as usual. You knew there was no turning back now, your plane would take off in a few hours, leaving what you called your life for almost a decade behind. You took a deep breath, and sat up in bed, taking your surroundings, your bedroom, for the last time, all the memories flooding your mind; when you moved in, unpacking your stuff, painting the walls… making the place truly yours. A pained smile appeared on your face when another kind of memories appeared in your mind, the ones you had shared with Javier; when he made you see the stars every night he laid on your bed, little marks on the wall due to the bed hitting the wall slightly when you had sex, when you made love to each other, when you had to change your bedframe because you managed to break the planks under it that one time you drank too much red wine, leading to hearty laughs and giggles.

But you knew it was too late. Too late to go back, so you got out of bed, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. You got dressed and zipped up your bags and suitcases, taking one last look around the cold, empty apartment, in case you were forgetting something, which you weren't. It seemed like you were just using it as an excuse not to go, to miss your flight, giving you more time to think about your options. Because there had to be another option, another possibility that allowed you to stay here, in Colombia, where you belonged, where your heart desired to be, with Javier.

You checked the time, and of course, you were running late. Typical you. Javier would probably comment on it, teasing you about the disaster that you are, nudging you with his elbow, a smug smirk on your face. You laughed quietly to yourself, making your way out of the apartment, to your car, loading the boxes into your trunk, one after another. You couldn't help but wonder, "Where was the box that kept your heart?".

As you drove to the airport, on the other side of the city, Javier thought he'd start to miss you a bit later on. But he was wrong. The moment he got in his car and sat on the driver's seat, his hand moved to the copilot's seat, looking for your thigh, to grab and caress it, writing his whole name letter by letter with his index finger on your soft, delicate skin. He turned on the radio, to try and focus on something else, but that only made it worse. He swore he could hear you sing and dance in your seat at the song that was playing on the radio, even if you didn't know the lyrics to it. That managed to get a sweet chuckle out of him, with then turned to a sad, heavy sigh. This was just the start of the day, how would he make it through it without crumbling down?

At the office, the first thing he noticed was your empty desk. He could still feel you around, your smell filling his nostrils as he closed his eyes, the sound of your heels echoing around. But it was all fake. You were gone, until further notice, as much as it hurt him deeply. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, walking away from what once was your desk, to his, sitting down on his chair, hoping Pablo Escobar would soothe his pain.

As you arrived at the airport, you parked your car and made your way to the check-in counter. The process was mechanical, and you found yourself going through the motions without really registering what was happening. Once you were through security, you found a quiet spot in the airport lounge and sat down, gazing out at the planes on the tarmac.

Minutes turned into hours, and soon it was time to board your flight. Taking one last look at the airport, you boarded the plane, found your seat, and buckled up. As the plane taxied down the runway, you closed your eyes, trying to make peace with your decision.

The flight was long, and your mind wandered back to the last few months. The highs and lows of your relationship with Javier, the moments of joy and the moments of heartbreak. You knew deep down that leaving was the right choice for you, but that didn't make it any easier.

After a few hours, you boarded into Buenos Aires, Argentina, your hometown, the place where you had grown up and where your whole family lived. You got off the plane and walked to get your bags and suitcases. At the airport, your family was waiting for you- your mother, your father, and your brother, with his little daughter, your niece, in his arms. They welcomed you with a warm, big hug and a few tears. You were so grateful to have them, and you were sure that they'd help you go through your pain and hard decisions, supporting you all the way, showing their care and love for you, as they always have done.

As you left the airport, driving back home with your family, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that you had your family's embrace to lean on during this difficult time, but sadness for the void left by Javier's absence. The city of Buenos Aires welcomed you with its lively streets, the nostalgic melodies of tango, and the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. It felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.

Over the next few weeks, you settled back into life in Buenos Aires. Your family provided a comforting and supportive environment, helping to distract you from the ache in your heart. They did their best to make you feel at home, reminding you of the love that surrounded you. Despite their efforts, though, Javier was always in the back of your mind. You spent your days reconnecting with old friends, exploring familiar streets, and rediscovering the vibrant culture of Buenos Aires. Your brother introduced you to his friends, and they welcomed you into their social circle with open arms. They took you out dancing, to lively parties and tango clubs, hoping to lift your spirits and help you find joy in the present moment.

Through the laughter and dancing, you couldn't help but compare every experience to the ones you had with Javier. The way he would hold you close and guide you effortlessly across the dance floor, the way his eyes would light up when he saw you in a beautiful dress, undressing you with his eyes, and the way his laughter and flirtatious voice would fill the room, infecting everyone around him with happiness. No matter how hard you tried to immerse yourself in the present, thoughts of him still lingered in your heart, leaving a bittersweet and painful presence. During one of those nights at a tango club, you found yourself lost in the music and lost in the arms of a stranger who moved with the same grace and passion that Javier once did. For a brief moment, you felt a connection, a flicker of what you had lost. But as the song came to an end, reality crashed down upon you, and you pulled away, realizing that no one could replace Javier.

One evening, as you sat at a café with your childhood friend, Sofia, sipping on a rich, aromatic cup of coffee, she noticed the distant look in your eyes. Concern etched her face as she reached out to touch your hand, softly.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

You sighed, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I miss him, Sofia. I miss Javier more than words can express. Leaving Colombia was the hardest decision I've ever made, but I knew it was necessary for my own well-being. I just wish… I wish things could have been different."

Sofia nodded understandingly. "Sometimes, life takes us on unexpected paths, and we have to make difficult choices. It doesn't mean it's easy, but you have to trust that you made the right decision for yourself. And who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day, your paths will cross again."

Her words offered a glimmer of hope, and you held onto that hope tightly. You realized that healing wasn't a linear process, and it would take time to fully move on from the pain of losing Javier. But you were determined to focus on rebuilding your life, finding happiness within yourself, and pursuing your dreams and passions.

Meanwhile, Javier was struggling to cope with your absence. The emptiness in his heart grew with each passing day, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on his work. He missed you fiercely and regretted not fighting harder to keep you by his side. He realized the toll the case had taken on both of you and understood the sacrifice you had made for your well-being. Haunted by memories of your time together, Javier often found himself staring at the box of belongings you had left behind. He would occasionally pick up one of the vinyl records you used to listen to together, placing it on the turntable and allowing the music to fill the silence. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love you shared.

One day, as Javier sat in his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your time together, he made a decision. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again, of not fighting for what he believed was true love. Determined to find you and make amends, he reached out to his contacts in Buenos Aires, seeking any information that could lead him to you. Days turned into weeks, and Javier tirelessly followed every lead, leaving no stone unturned in his search for you. He reached out to old colleagues, informants, and even friends from Argentina. His determination and love for you fueled his efforts, pushing him forward despite the obstacles he faced.

One evening, while sifting through a stack of files in his apartment, Javier stumbled upon a familiar name, one that sparked a glimmer of hope within him. It was the name of a private investigator based in Buenos Aires known for his expertise in finding missing persons. Without wasting another moment, Javier dialed the investigator's number and explained his situation, emphasizing the urgency and his deep desire to locate you.

Days passed, and Javier anxiously awaited any news from the investigator. He found solace in knowing that he was actively taking steps to reunite with you, but the uncertainty still weighed heavily on his heart. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and he couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away. Then, one afternoon, while Javier was lost in his thoughts, his phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. It was the private investigator, and his voice carried a hint of excitement.

"Javier, I've found her," he said, his words reverberating through Javier's entire being.

Relief flooded over Javier, and he could barely contain his excitement. He quickly packed some of his stuff, leaving behind the remnants of his shattered heart, and set off for Buenos Aires, fueled by the hope of rekindling the love that had been abruptly taken from him.

As the plane touched down in Buenos Aires, Javier's heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms again, and apologize for his mistakes. He knew he had a long way to go in rebuilding your trust, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.

Javier's search led him to a cozy café in the heart of Buenos Aires. It was a place you often frequented, and he hoped it would serve as a starting point for their reunion. Nervously, he walked through the café's entrance, scanning the room for any sign of you.

And there you were, laughing and smiling with some friends, with a young toddler in your lap, who he assumed was your niece. He wanted so badly to hold you, to kiss you, and make you his once again, this time, without letting you go so easier. But he couldn't bring himself to. He was paralyzed, unable to move, his eyes just focused on your distant laugh and sweet, melodic voice, like honey. And then, he realized, his sunshine was back, but she was no longer his. She had managed to shine on her own, to find her own happiness and mindfulness.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away. With one final look at you, he mouthed the words "Te amo", and walked away, leaving you to your now happy life, this time, behind his silhouette the one who disappeared into the crowd.

You felt a smell, a familiar one that made your heart tingle, making butterflies appear in your stomach. You looked around, convincing yourself that you weren't just daydreaming, but nothing came into sight. You let out a deep sigh and turned your attention back to your friends, trying to engage back in the conversation, thinking that this had been another trick your mind pulled.

He had found his sunshine, his love, his fuel, but he couldn't bring himself to proclaim her once more, so he just let her shine, on her own.

Taglist: @hxpburn76 @hiroikegawa @still-wanna-be-corrupted @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena angst #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #fanfic #javier pena one shot

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sparkly-scales · 7 months

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Loviatar's Blessing Tav x Astarion BG3

Loviatars Blessing

ObsidianRose96

Summary:

“Astarion? What are you doing here?” “Basking in the aftermath of your questionable decisions. You naughty, naughty, girl.” He growls. “Gods, I can still smell it on you. That sweet, musky scent paired with the smell of your blood is absolutely…intoxicating. I can’t seem to resist it.” “What are you going on about?” You ask. “Oh, don’t play coy with me, darling. I heard you back there. Hells, everyone did. But unlike everyone else I could also smell you. One of the few perks of being a vampire spawn. The scent of your arousal was ever present as you were willingly being beaten. It still is. Odd, I didn’t take you for a masochist. It seems I learn something new about you every day.” The fic in which Tav discovers something about herself.

Notes:

Hey guys, sorry for the re-upload, I just didn't feel like it was complete. I went back and added some things as well as fixed a few mistakes I caught. Anyways, this is my second attempt at a smutty one-shot between Tav and Astarion. Don't fret my Gale lovers, I have something spicy coming out here soon that focuses on our favorite Wizard of Waterdeep. As a side note I'd like to add that your reactions to my last fic, Jealous Much, really inspired me to keep writing. I've been in such a low spot recently that I thought I had lost my touch. When I saw all the Kudo's it made me want to keep going and I really appreciate that. As always, thank you for choosing to read my fic. You could have (and probably should have) chosen to read something else, but you chose to read this dumpster fire and I am eternally grateful for your support. Without further Adieu, I present to you Loviatars Blessing.

Work Text:

This wasn’t a position you had ever expected to find yourself in. Especially while you were trying to infiltrate a goblin infested temple. Your bare chest is pressed up against an unforgivingly cool wall as your companions stand back, some are horrified at what’s about to go down and some hold their breaths in anticipation, eager to watch. Why you had agreed to this, you weren’t entirely sure. Perhaps it was the powerful blessing that was promised that swayed you. Or maybe it was the incredibly sexy priest of Loviatar, with his scantily clad sculpted body and infectious enthusiasm for his goddess. Either way, you were about to experience something completely new.

“Let Loviatar hear your dear one!” Shouts the priest. You hear a loud crack before you feel a sharp, stinging, pain spread across your back. You’re not sure what he’s using to beat you with, but it does the job, causing you to yelp in pain.

“Yes child! Sing your praises to Loviatar with your screams! Show her that you are worthy of her blessing!”

Another cracking sound and the stinging sensation returns. You feel hot, wet, tears streaming down your cheeks as the pain intensifies with the second strike. You also feel yourself getting wet somewhere else.

What in the hells? Were you…were you into this? Surely not...

Another strike and you scream yet again, louder this time.

“Gods, who knew she had so much blood.” You hear Astarion say.

"Will you please stop licking your lips? It's making me rather uncomfortable.” Says Gale, chastising the vampire spawn.

If you were bleeding, you couldn’t feel it.

“One more time! Come on, let the pain set you free!” Shouts the priest. This is his hardest strike yet and you’re horrified. Not because of the pain but because you didn’t scream. No, instead you let out a loud moan. There’s a lingering silence in the room as you slowly turn to face the priest and your companions. Your cheeks flush as you scan their faces. Poor Gale looks just as horrified as you do. Shadowheart is trying her best not to laugh, holding a hand in front of her mouth to try and conceal her amused grin. And Astarion looks…hungry, as if he wants to eat you alive. Which isn’t all that surprising since you were apparently bleeding.

“That was a rather…interesting reaction.” Says the Priest. “Well done my sweet child. You bore the pain like a true believer. And from what I can tell, you enjoyed the experience just as much as I did. I am proud to have served you this penance. You've certainly earned our goddess's blessing. Please, feel free to visit me again if you’d like to bask in her glory once more.”

“T-thank you.” You say. You go to put on your armor but let out a pained hiss as its leather touches your fresh wounds. Now that your adrenaline has worn off the pain is much more intense.

“Where did my shirt go? I’m gonna have to ditch my armor for now. Does anyone have an extra healing potion?”

“I don’t think we brought any.” Says Shadowheart. “But I may be able to cast a healing spell. Let me see.”

You turn your back to her. “Good gods!” She exclaims as she gets a better look at the wounds. You wince when she touches a particularly tender spot. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not great.” Says Gale. “We should head back to camp. I think it’s best that we do not proceed until you’re healed up.”

“Head back? But we just got here!” You groan.

“I’m going to have to agree with the wizard. You’re going to be useless until this is healed.” Says Shadowheart. “You can’t just waltz around picking fights without your armor. They’ll make you a pin cushion.”

“Gee, thanks. Wait, weren’t you going to heal me?” You ask, looking up at the cleric.

“My spells alone aren’t enough to fix this.” Says Shadowheart. “You’re going to need potions and salves as well as something to prevent infection. That flog did a number on you. I’ll cast something to ease the pain for now but Gale’s right, we need to go back to camp.”

“Ughhh fine. Let’s go back then. The sooner I heal the sooner we can finish dealing with the goblins.”

The walk back to camp is agonizing as the pain from your wounds becomes more and more intense. Your blood is oozing through your shirt, staining the white colored fabric red. Astarions eyes are on you the entire way back. He’s trying to keep himself composed but he’s finding it difficult. Yes, the blood dripping down your back was enticing but there was something else emanating off of you that was driving him absolutely mad. Your arousal. You naughty, naughty girl. To him you seemed like the innocent type, a little vanilla babe that wouldn’t do more than what was necessary. But as he watched you being beaten, when he heard your unmistakable moan, when he could smell your lust, he quickly realized that there was more to you than he had previously thought. And he wanted to explore it.

“Go to your tent and take off your shirt. I’ll cast a simple healing spell for now and douse the wounds with a healing potion, but I’ll need to procure some herbs and other ingredients for the salve.”

“You have to make it?” You ask.

“Yes. It's a minor inconvenience but it doesn’t take much. It's fairly simple to make and all of the ingredients I need are around us. I just have to find them.”

Shadowheart follows you to your tent and she begins the healing process she had explained earlier. The pain is still present but it’s not as bad as it previously was. Once she leaves, you lay there and relax. You didn’t realize how much that had taken out of you because you find yourself falling asleep. That is until you hear the flaps to your tent open.

You slowly lift up your head, expecting to see Shadowheart. Instead you see Astarion with that same, hungry, look in his eye. He looks almost predatory as he starts to slowly crawl towards you, like a lion about to take down its prey. “I have to say darling, I’m so glad you agreed to let that priest beat you like that. It was quite the show.”

“Astarion? What are you doing here?”.

“Basking in the aftermath of your questionable decisions. You naughty, naughty, girl.” He growls. “Gods, I can still smell it on you. That sweet, musky scent paired with the smell of your blood is absolutely…intoxicating. I can’t seem to resist it.”

“What are you going on about?” You ask.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, darling. I heard you back there. Hells, everyone did. But unlike everyone else I could smell you. One of the few perks of being a vampire spawn. Your arousal was ever present as you were willingly being beaten. It still is. Odd, I didn’t take you for a masochist. It seems I learn something new about you every day.” He crawls up the length of your body, hovering over the open wounds on your back. "It would be such a shame to let all of this blood go to waste.” He says, tracing a finger over one of the wounds. You wince as you feel his fingertip make contact with a strip of open flesh. And without warning you feel his tongue start sliding across your back, lapping up the leftover blood that had been pooling in your wounds. You hiss at the sensation. The sting of his saliva isn’t pleasant but also not….unwelcome? You’re confused at the way your body reacts to this. You should be put off by how unpleasant this feels but the aching between your thighs tells a different story.

“There it is again. That sweet, alluring smell. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You don’t answer him. You’re not even sure what to say to that. “Being coy again are we? Darling you don’t have to be like that around me.” He continues to lap up the rest of the blood on your back, and the throbbing feeling intensifies.

“Delicious!” He declares once he’s finished. “Your blood is exquisite when it’s mixed with your sweet, sweet, lust. I still find myself hungry though.”

"Do you need more blood? I can let you feed on me.” You say.

“Oh darling, you’re such a sweetheart. I’ll be sure to take you up on that, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” You shiver beneath his touch as he slides his finger down the length of your body, starting at your shoulder blade and stopping at the hem of your trousers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go wide as you realize what he’s insinuating. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? You want to taste me? Like…down there?” You point down to your trousers.

He eyes you curiously. “Yes? I thought I made my intentions pretty clear.” He says. “So, what do you say? Will you let me indulge myself in you?”

You take a moment to think about it. Would things be different between the two of you if you allowed him the opportunity to do something so intimate? Would things be weird? Awkward? You didn’t want to ruin your newfound friendship with the pale elf, a friendship you’d worked so hard for. The man was difficult to understand and it was a task to get him to trust you to begin with. If things become difficult between the two of you all of your hard work would go to waste. But the aching in your thighs was growing ever stronger as he hovered over you, his crimson colored eyes heavy lidded with his own desire. Perhaps something like this would have the opposite effect, at least you hoped it would. Maybe if you were able to let yourself enjoy a moment like this with him it would make your bond stronger. Bring the two of you closer.

His lips find the shell of your ear, his voice low and sensual as he whispers, “I’ll make you feel very, very, good.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll allow it.” You say. “But how are we gonna do this? As you know, I can’t really lay on my back right now.”

“Don’t worry darling, I know how we can do this without hurting you further. Although, I’m not sure you’d be opposed to the idea of more pain.” He teases.

“Gods, I knew I should have brought Wyll along instead of you.” He pulls you to your feet, encouraging you to stand as he lies down on your bed roll.

“Oh please, you and I both know Wyll can't pick a lock the way I can. By the way, you may want to take those off.” He says, pointing to your trousers. “It’s going to be difficult to do this with those in the way.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you begin to undress your lower half. When you pull down your panties you're surprised to see just how damp they are. They are soaked through the fabric, wet with your desire.

“Come here darling.” Astarion purrs once you’re completely bare. You walk over to him, a little timidly. This was the first time he was seeing you fully nude. This was also the first time you were indulging in an intimate moment like this. You were still pure after all, even if the events from earlier today suggest otherwise.

He pulls you down, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he positions you exactly where he wants you. You’re surprised to find yourself seated right under his face, right where his tongue had the best access to your now throbbing, aching, cunt. You hear him take a deep inhale of you before he slips his tongue between your folds. The feeling is certainly a new one but it’s incredible. You find yourself biting down on your bottom lip attempting to stifle the moans that threaten to escape you as he indulges himself. He laps you up as though he’s been starved and you can hear him let out little grunts as he savors the sweet taste of your sex.

“Gods, this is better than I could have imagined.” He groans against you. “I can’t wait until I get you to cum for me.” And with that, he withdraws his tongue just a little until the tip of it is touching that little bud of sensitive nerves. You hiss, withdrawing yourself from his face. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant by any means, just unfamiliar. Surprising.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asks, his face is etched with concern as he looks up at you.

“S-sorry.” You apologize, depositing yourself onto his chest. “I’ve just-this is my first time.”

“Really? You’ve never had anyone-

“Nope. This is my first time experiencing anything like this. I’m still…what’s the word?”

“A virgin?”

“Yes.” You say. “I’m still a virgin.”

He looks surprised by your revelation. “Really? By the way you were acting back at the temple I would have never guessed. I suppose that explains why you seemed a little confused earlier. I can stop if-

“No. No no no. I want this. Please continue. For once you’re actually making good use of your tongue.”

He chuckles at your clever quip. “As you wish darling. But do try and stay seated.” He pulls you back to his face, taking it slower this time as he teases your clit. It’s overwhelming at first, almost too much to bear. But eventually that feeling subsides, leaving you with a pleasure you’ve never had the chance to experience. You don’t even attempt to stifle back the moans that escape your lips.

“Mmm, you want them to hear us, don’t you darling?” Astarion murmurs beneath you. "Naughty, naughty, girl."

You don’t answer him. Instead you desperately grind your hips against his face, guiding his tongue to hit all of your sweet spots. Suddenly he withdraws from you and you let out a disappointed whine.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. I’m not finished yet. I just want to try something.” His lips start to graze the inside of your thigh, searching for the perfect spot. When he finds it he sinks his fangs into you. You have no idea how delicious you are darling. To him you're like a fine wine crafted specifically for his tastes. Ever since he’s been free he’s had the chance to sample a few other thinking creatures. Enemies that dared to challenge you and your companions. They were all good, there was no denying that. But they were nothing compared to you. Especially when you were so, so, close to the edge.

He continues to take long drinks from you, indulging himself in your delicious taste. The icy sting from his fangs, the light headedness, and the adrenaline that was now coursing through your veins is almost too much. It isn’t long before you feel your body begin to tense as you come to your climax. Your thighs begin to quiver and you let out a loud cry as a tidal wave of pleasure overtakes you. Gods, that felt incredible! Astarion hums happily beneath you as he switches from your thigh back to your sopping cunt. He hungrily laps up your sweet, sweet, juices but you find that the feeling of his tongue is overstimulating. You have to lift up off of him to get him to stop.

“T-too much. Need a second.” You pant.

“How was it?”

“Th-that was amazing.” You say, still trembling from your orgasm.

“I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?” He looks up at you triumphantly, his face is covered with a mixture of blood and the clear, glossy sheen of you. You take your thumb and wipe some of the crimson liquid off the edge of his mouth. He’s always been such a messy eater.

“So, would you like to go further?” His question catches you off guard.

“What? What do you mean?” You ask.

“Would you like to have sex darling?” He asks. “And please, don’t feel pressured. You’ve given me so much already, I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” He says, absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

Of course that’s what he meant. Gods, you were so inexperienced in these matters. How embarrassing.

You take a moment to consider. You’re already sitting on top of him naked and the two of you have just shared a rather intimate moment. Why not let him be the one to take your purity? Besides, the tadpole has you constantly guessing whether or not there will be a tomorrow in store for you. If there was a time to lose your virginity, it’d be now, while the chance lay so willingly beneath you.

“Yes. I think I would.”

“I was so hoping you’d say that.” He says. He pulls you off of him so that he can unlace his trousers. His erection springs out at you, hard and ready, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. His hands find your hips and he positions you over his shaft. “I'm not sure if you know this or not but it’s going to hurt. I don’t think that will be a problem for you though, my little deviant.” He says, his lips are pulled into a devious smirk as he calls you by another one of his pet names.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“I don’t plan too.” He says. “Besides, I’m sure I can find ways to use this little kink of yours to my advantage.” He helps you lower yourself onto him and he’s absolutely right. It hurts. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, a strange combination of pressure and burning. And it’s driving you absolutely mad. How can something hurt so badly yet feel so damned good? You aren’t sure. It doesn’t make sense. None of what’s happening right now makes sense. But you don’t care. You’re just glad it’s happening, and with Astarion of all people.

He’s slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside you before he goes any further. Then he grinds himself against you, driving himself deeper and deeper into your cervix. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Tav!” He says through gritted teeth. He pulls you down close to him, holding you tightly against his chest as he bucks his hips into you. It's a bit of a task with how green you are but eventually he manages, filling you with the full length of his cock. This is an entirely new feeling and the pain is still present but gods, it feels so fucking good. You can't believe you've gone this long without ever experiencing something like this. Sure, you absolutely could have earlier in your life but no one ever really caught your attention. Astarion however, was an entirely different story.

His pace is steady, thrusting into you with quick, deep strokes, relishing the feeling of your tight little pussy taking all of him. Loud moans mixed with his name spill from your lips as you praise everything he's doing to you. Every thrust, every grunt, every dirty word that comes out of his mouth drives you closer and closer to the edge. It isn't long before that tense feeling returns and your thighs begin to tremble once more as that wave of pleasure overtakes you yet again. You loudly cry his name as he manages to unravel you for a second time.

His pace begins to falter and with a few more thrusts he too reaches his climax, spilling his seed deep inside of you. You collapse on top of him, just as Shadowheart opens the flaps to your tent.

“Oh! Oh gods! You could have at least left a sock outside or something!” She shields her eyes and quickly closes the tent flap, cursing as she walks away.

Astarion chuckles and gently moves you off of him, pulling his undergarments and trousers back on. "As much as I don't want to, I suppose I should let her have you now."

“That was…nice.” You say.

“Indeed. Perhaps we can make this a regular thing between the two of us? I rather enjoy your company, you know?” Your lips tug into a smile at his suggestion.

“I would like that.”

"Good." He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, then another on your cheek before he leans down close to your ear and whispers, “Maybe the next time we indulge ourselves in one another I’ll have come up with all sorts of delicious ways to torment you. You’d like that, yes? And I’m sure I can find all sorts of fun items for us to play with. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for a flog for my naughty, naughty, girl.”

Your cheeks turn bright red and he kisses you again, this time on the lips. He’s rough with it, parting your lips with his tongue, allowing you to taste yourself on him. A unique blend of the two of you dances around in each other's mouths as the kiss deepens. It’s divine, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. His fang nicks your lower lip drawing out a tiny bit of blood which he greedily laps up. And then he pulls away, leaving you breathless and desperately wanting more.

I'll see you later, my sweet." He says, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before climbing out of your tent.

Shadowheart returns shortly after with an annoyed look on her face. In one hand she holds that salve she’s prepared. You laugh when you see what she’s holding in the other.

“Did you seriously bring me a sock!?”

“Yes. Please do not ever let me walk in on that again. The last thing I wanted to see today was Astarions ball sack.”

“I didn’t think you got the chance to see anything with how quickly you left.” You manage to say through your fit of laughter.

“Well I did and now I’m traumatized. Thanks for that.”

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut

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turnstileskyline · 1 month

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RockSound June 3rd, 2024 – Dallon Weekes Interview (Transcript under the cut)

hello all!!!! i am still taking a little tumblr break (gonna upload and dip) but my copy of the rocksound idkhow issue came so i wanted to get these photographed and transcribed because i know i have shaky hands. (if you spot any mistakes let me know and i'll fix them asap!)

Taking Over The World (One Show At A Time)

As they close out their UK headline tour, IDHKOW's Dallon Weekes reflects on the lessons learned from taking 'Gloom Division' out on the road.

Words James Wilson-Taylor

Photos Corinne Cumming

Now that the UK tour has come to an end, how are you reflecting on this latest run of shows? Well the shows were fantastic. All of the crowds were great and it was really exciting to be back there after, you know, COVID and the album delays and everything. It's felt like it was forever since we've been back. But to be able to go back with this new lineup that I have, it was pretty special. Because I feel like the live show has grown a lot. Being able to add more live musicians to it, and rely less upon synth tracks and things like that. To have people up on stage actually doing it live, we're a little more untethered, which, must like that tour itself, was pretty chaotic. But we seem to thrive on chaos. So it worked out. It was really fun.

Did it click together quite quickly with the new band? What were the initial live rehearsals like? It was really fun for me. My heart goes out to the guys who are playing for me because they had this whole catalogue of music to learn before we hit the road, but they are such professionals and so talented too and most of them live here around Utah where I'm from. Anthony, my guitar player, still is in LA. But whenever shows come up, he flies out here so we get some proper full band rehearsals. But to be able to have really professional musicians dig into the songs and learn how to play them and have some input as well is really invaluable to me because I always really enjoy when a live show has tiny deviations from the recorded versions of the album that you might have in your collection. Sometimes bands can go a little too far from that and it can be fun sometimes. But it can also be a bummer, it kind of depends on the song, I guess. But I like having small moments or extended bits, or maybe an idea that you got post recording an album, when you're all jamming it together and someone does something cool. And you go, 'Dammit, I wish that was on the record'. So you just put it in the live show and it makes for a cool experience, I think.

With the added band members, it gives you a little extra freedom to step away from the bass at moments and explore your position as a frontman. It feels good, but it's interesting too, because that was never on my bucket list. I never had that in mind for my life to be a frontman, or a lead singer. I just always wanted to make music and write and record and have that be my job. I've been lucky enough to have achieved that goal. But, you know, circumstances being what they are, I eventually landed into that role without having it as a goal, but it's something that I do enjoy. It's something I did years ago with Brobecks. But between then and now it's been more than a decade. So I think it took me a minute to sort of relearn that role and find myself in that role again, and luckily once it started rolling, it didn't take long for me to find that footing again. But there was that learning curve where I tried to remember how to be in this spot, rather than just filling a spot on the side of that stage just playing bass. So yeah, it's been fun to be able to put it down every once in a while and have a little more freedom to wander around or spill water bottles all over the stage, which is a bad habit of mine.

It also allows for a nice relationship with the audience. I mean, that's something you've always had – it almost feels like a conversation in places. It's a little secret club in a way for all these fans. That was the impetus when it started. Because this was a secret project, no one was supposed to know about it. And I really had no goals in mind for it other than to get some music out of my head and play it for a bunch of strangers that didn't know what other bands I'd ever been in and see if that art that I was making could stand on it's own two feet without waving some giant flag saying, 'Hey, everybody, I was in this band before, come and see what I'm doing.' There was something about that which felt really disingenuous and kind of gross to me. So starting this project in secret with this ridiculous band name that no one could ever find appealing made a lot of sense at the time. But as things snowballed – and what a wonderful problem to have, I'm talking about this like it's some sort of bad thing but it's not, it's a great thing – eventually it became too late to choose a more sensible band name. But, you know, band names are ridiculous anyway, so who cares? I guess the secret is just to not care. But yeah, finding that role again. It took a minute, but it's been a lot of fun. I'm enjoying it a lot.

In terms of the newer songs in the set, did playing them live and seeing the audience reaction change your opinion about them at all? It's a similar feeling for both me and the audience. Because the way that writing and recording music works now is different from how it was 20 years ago. You used to write your song, go out and play it every night, workshop it, tighten the screws on it, and then you go record it and put on a record. Now, with Youtube and streaming services and bootlegs and things, you have to keep a tight lid on this new stuff that you're working on until it's been officially released. So now, you write your song and you record it and then you learn how to play it afterwards. So taking those out into the world for the first time on stage after you've recorded it, I think it's a new experience for the audience and for the performers as well, because you get a handle on this new thing that you've already recorded. Then night by night, kind of like I mentioned before, someone might do something different. The song sort of evolves and changes a little bit from the way that you recorded it. I think there's a lot of fun to be had in that. Sometimes those things can only happen once you are in front of people and playing those songs. It's all a really organic process and I really enjoy that.

I guess the other thing you had to consider was how best to balance this new material, which pushed you into some new places musically, with the older songs that everybody knows. It's become a challenge now because when this thing started, I hadn't recorded or released anything. It was about four or five months of playing dive bars in secret and just denying that this was even a thing while I was recording. Then by the time we did have something out there, I think we put a song on YouTube first with no record label, no radio, nothing. Then that song just kind of took off. Then we were expected to fill an hour whenever we would go on tour and we had only released five songs. So learning that frontman role and stretching bits out and filling in our set with some covers and maybe some old Brobecks songs, that was the challenge. Now, the challenge has become picking a setlist that has bits and pieces of stuff that you love and that the audience would appreciate from the past and from the current record. So it's a different challenge now, but it's one that I'm enjoying. Revisiting stuff that is important to me from the past and things that I really like playing and stuff that the audience either needs to hear, because we're promoting it, or is stuff that I know they have responded to well in the past and that they'd like to hear. So it's a combination of different factors to make a decent setlist, I think, but I try to keep all that stuff in mind.

One particularly special moment at the London show was when Will Joseph Cook joined you onstage to perform your collaboration "Sunnyside'. That was fun. He's a London boy. The algorithm sent me some of his music a couple of years back and it was a song called 'Take Me Dancing', one of his songs from maybe four or five years ago. It was one of those songs that when you hear it as a songwriter, it's so good that it kind of pisses you off, you know? Dammit, that's good. So I reached out to him to see if he wanted to collaborate on some stuff, and it's been a great working relationship ever since. Then we just pass each other ideas back and forth all the time. He hit me up and asked if he could come to the London show and I said, 'Why don't you come out on stage and we'll sing this 'Sunnyside' song that we to wrote together'. He's like, fuck yeah, so we hooked up a spare microphone and ran it on soundcheck and then brought them out on stage for the set. It was a lot of fun to be able to do that. To play it live with the person who helped cowrite that was pretty special.

So you see that collaborative relationship continuing on more songs in the future? We hung out pretty much all day that day backstage and showed each other ideas that we have floating around. After I got home, I send him some more songs. So yeah, we're definitely going to keep that collaborative working relationship going. He's a good young man with a bright future.

You have also been able to bring some more Brobecks songs into your setlist and put a new, IDKHOW twist on them. Are there any more of those older songs you'd like to re-record or perform again? I've got a shortlist of maybe four or five old Brobecks songs that I think never really got a proper chance to be a proper song, you know, whether that was because we didn't have enough money to record it properly or get it mixed or mastered or even release it. Then I eventually released the songs in a vacuum and no one ever really heard it. But there's four or five I think that I would still like to give a proper chance to. It's not super high on the priority list. But it is something that I'm interested in because I am a fan of songs. And you know, probably more so than albums as a whole, I'm a song man. There are a few from the past that I think had some potential. But I would probably have to consider, you know, the passage of time in between when I first wrote them as a young man and, if I did rerecord and release, now there might have to be some lyric adjustments or something because I don't know how well some lyric choices when you're 22 would go over when you're 42. So there might be some rewrites in order. But revisiting some of those I think would be fun because this project and that project, they aren't unrelated to each other. I very well could have easily called this The Brobecks. But whenever I started this, putting a period at the end of that old project seemed like the right move and moving on to something new that didn't have any baggage to carry along with it. It felt like the move. But yeah, that doesn't mean that that stuff isn't still important to me. It's still very meaningful and I really love playing old Brobecks songs and I think that I always will.

Now that you have had some time to reflect since the release of 'GLOOM DIVISION', how are you feeling about that collection of songs now? It's interesting how your perspective changes on things. When I first recorded it, and was getting ready to release it, I was so excited and I thought this was the best work that I've ever done. Then even with the good reviews that it has gotten and the fan response, there was still more mixed reviews, or mixed feelings, about it than I thought there would be. But seeing that happen has given me a sort of step back, trying to be more objective, which is hard to do when you're making art, you know, because it really is for you. That's still number one for me whenever I make art. It is for me, and I want to like the thing that I'm making. That's the most important bit and if anyone else happens to like it, that's just a really great bonus. But I made this record and I loved it and I thought that surely everyone else would too. All of my favourite records and the things that I draw inspiration from are not popular records. These are not things that were at the top of the charts. You know, even on some of my top 10 Records of all time – Elvis Costello's 'This Year's Model' or The Flaming Lips or Ben Folds Five, all of my favourite stuff, these were never people that lived at the top of the charts. So, to me, the response kind of makes sense. As long as you're making something that you like, and you're not trying to play to the gallery, then whatever their response is, so be it.

UK artists in particular seem to have always had a big influence on you. I've been a sucker for everything British since I got into the Beatles, and if it was from the 60s and it was British then I was all about it. Even in the 90s, | was a big Britpop fan. In the post grunge-90s, Britpop in America was not the cool thing to be into, but I was all about it. Blur was my favourite. I loved Pulp and I liked Oasis too. That was my shit back in the 90s while everyone else was listening to Rage Against The Machine, which I can appreciate more now. Back then, I viewed it as the stuff my older brother and his friends were into and they're all bros. So I was being kind of a little hipster about it. But I love Rage now. But yeah, back then in the 90s, again I was into stuff that wasn't living at the top of the charts.

It must have been particularly exciting to finally come over here and play shows for the first time. Yeah it was very cool to be there finally and see where rock and roll...wasn't born but where it had been fine tuned and perfected. We may have done it first but I'm always of the mindset that y'all did it best. There's no pride in regards to, you know, who did what and when. I'm a fan of what y'all do. I love it over there.

One UK show that must stick in the memory was when you played Brixton Academy in 2016 with Panic! At The Disco just after David Bowie had passed away. That must have been quite a surreal but special moment. I remember waking up in my hotel that day to the news and being hit with it harder than I probably thought I would have ever been. I'd always been a big Bowie fan, but sometimes you don't really realize how much you like something until it's gone, which is kind of fucked up. So I woke up to the news that he had died and I cried a little bit, you know, which kind of surprised me. Then I went out walking the streets, because we had a full day before we had to be at the venue for soundcheck, and his music was everywhere. Walking past that mural that's down the street from the venue where people had made this makeshift memorial, there was this awesome sense of community. That was a great reminder about the importance behind art and behind music. All of these people walking the streets, they might not share anything in common, but at least for today, or that day, everyone's sharing this art that this man made. There's something so special about that. Whenever an artist passes along from this world, you hope that your art that you make continues to be enjoyed by people and that way you get to sort of live on and still impact people. So that's the hope. I certainly hope that's the case with me and I'm sure I'm not alone in that. Playing that venue in particular, or really any historical venue where I know for sure that someone I love has played there and has walked down this staircase to the stage just like I'm doing, I always think about that right before we're about to take the stage. There's something intimidating about it and something comforting about it at the same time.

Similarly, when you played Camden Electric Ballroom with IDKHOW, that is another venue with so much history. There is a plaque outside in memory of when Prince performed there. That's another reason why I really love playing in London because there's so many choices. You throw a stone and there's a gig happening somewhere and you have your choice of just about anything under the sun that you can go see. So the fact that there are people on the other side of the world that would choose to come see this project and watch us play the songs that I write here in my basement is nothing short of a miracle to me. This last round of shows that we played over there, particularly that last show in London, to be able to have that venue full of people is so special to me and does not go unappreciated.

#dallon weekes #idkhow #idkhbtfm #i dont know how but they found me #the brobecks #brobecks #gloom division #my run-on sentence liege .#long post

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brambleghastblast · 6 months

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rather nice updates on the chuggaaconroy situation

ive thought about this thing. a lot. literally so much. chugga and trg are the only (formerly) consistently uploading youtubers i actually love watching. most gaming youtubers are just too angry or negative for me to get into. so i've been really bummed honestly. i have stopped watching chuggaaconroy and trg completely since january

but i've gotta say..

the fact that chuggaaconroy is taking therapy and fixing himself seriously, and has been doing this since before being called out, and the main allegation being from 2009.. i'm going to be completely honest. while i will never defend what he did, i am fully willing to forgive him.

many youtubers just post a short apology and go right back to making content and never change. but chuggaaconroy is seriously taking this to heart. he is clearly trying to change for the better and i really respect that

that, combined with all the good he's done for the gaming community in the past and how much happiness he's brought others.. i can't stay mad at him. he screwed up but like. humanity is all about changing and growing, making mistakes and then fixing yourself afterward. and the updates from nintendocaprisun really show he's taking this seriously.

i mean.. if i'm not mistaken what is calling out if not exposing the bad deeds of one and then making them change? i dunno, i just can't get throwing someone away entirely for some mistakes they regret. that sounds cruel.

and i don't think i'm alone, actually. the trg reddit and youtube comments were initially extremely angry and disappointed in emile.. but checking them again, they're now actually full of support, after tim's updates. people saying they overreacted, people wishing him well in therapy, youtubers he was friends with expressing support and saying they're still friends, people saying they miss him.

the situation was awful because it blew up everywhere and so many people hopped on. clout chasers trying to profit off drama, ableists using it as a ticket to bully autistic people, undying defenders claiming emile did nothing wrong, it was a horrible mess and such an awful time to be online.

but now that it's in the past and we get to hear actual fans and geniune peoples opinons, i think things are really leaning towards the better and more positive.

i don't defend chuggaaconroy, i am disgusted by what he did, but i will absolutely forgive him because he's geniunely working on himself and i believe forgiving regreted mistakes is the most human thing i can do, so long as he never does anything like this again.

#chuggaaconroy #therunawayguys

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archiveikemen · 1 year

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'Wicked Love Blooming In The Dark Night' Story Event: Chapter 2

Roger Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

???: Thank you so much for waiting, Roger!

The person who approached Roger was a young man with brown hair.

Young Man: This is…?

Roger: Ah, she’s my lover. She insisted on sticking to me today, so… yeah.

Kate: Huh? I did n—

Young Man: Ah, I see! Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, and I’m a pharmacist!

Kate: I’m Kate. Did you and Roger arrange to meet here?

Young Pharmacist: Yes! Ever since I first met Roger at this tavern, we became great buddies.

Young Pharmacist: At first, I felt embarrassed because I was a mere pharmacist, compared to the Royal Physician.

Roger: Haha, you say that and yet you’re the one inviting me for daytime drinking these days.

Outsiders must never know about the existence of Crown.

Therefore, “royal physician” must’ve been the alias Roger used with outsiders.

Urged by Roger, the young pharmacist sat down and started talking happily.

(Fufu, they seem to be very close.)

Roger: This guy may be young, but he’s one talented chap. Rumour has it that the drug you buy from him is exceptionally effective.

Roger: Apparently, even long-term chronic illness can be cured instantly.

Kate: That’s like magic!

Young Pharmacist: Magic? Ahaha, right. If only I could really become a magician who magically heals the sick.

Roger: …

The three of us continued our lively conversation—.

…

(Leaving his wallet with someone to pay the bill for him. How convenient.)

I paid the bill and went outside to look for Roger.

(Ah, found him.)

Kate: Roge—

(Huh…?)

In the alleyway, Roger slipped “something” into Ben’s hand.

It was money.

Roger: Then, I’ll see you “again”.

When Ben left, Roger noticed my presence.

Kate: Roger, just now—

Roger: Ah, I purchased some of that miracle drug from him and gave him advanced payment.

Kate: Drug?

Roger: If the drug he made is truly that effective, we should have it in stock for the palace or Crown.

Kate: I understand that, but why did you have to do it in such a shady place?

Roger: Purchasing drug for the palace means that there will be less of it available for the people. Won’t that look bad if done openly?

(That's a reasonable explanation. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with that.)

(But something feels off.)

Kate: … Roger, is that really all?

Roger’s eyes that rarely ever showed his emotions flickered.

Roger: You suspect that I betrayed someone. … Right?

(...)

Roger: It's up to you to decide whether I’ve betrayed anyone, and whether my actions were good or evil.

Roger: Haha, your thoughts are written all over your face.

Roger: Young lady. You want an answer from me, but it’s not going to be that easy.

Roger: Even if I do give you an answer, you can't be sure that it’s the truth, can you?

Roger’s eyes were fixed onto me — like a predator eyeing its prey.

(He’s warning me. I’ll get myself into trouble if I go any further.)

Crown’s purpose was to fight evil with evil, they existed in a dark world that no one should step into.

(I feel like I’m being skinned alive and having all my weaknesses exposed.)

Putting my safety at risk was not part of my job as a fairytale writer, I was sure that no one would hold me accountable for backing out.

(However, I agreed to become a fairytale writer to save my life.)

(... I want to be accountable for my own decision.)

If not, I might lose myself in this dark world.

(Therefore…)

Kate: … I’m not going to back out. I said it myself that I wanted to spend the entire day by your side.

Roger: … Huh?

Roger: I like it, this side of you. Courageous and earnest. … I’m almost moved to tears.

Roger ruffled my hair with his tough hand.

Kate: H-Hey

Roger: Haha, you’re so cute. Come on, let’s get going. You said you’re not chickening out, right?

Kate: Y-Yes!

…

(Where are we…)

We arrived at an abandoned warehouse after sunset.

And then—.

Young Pharmacist: Sorry to have kept you waiting, Roger. Here’s the drug I made.

The young pharmacist took the drugs out of his leather bag and held it out to Roger.

Roger: So this is the cure-all drug called— “blue pill”.

Young Pharmacist: Yes! Taking this drug can cure you of all your ailments instantly.

Young Pharmacist: That’s why the price is a little bit on the high end—

Roger: The price doesn't matter to me. But is this all the stock you’re selling?

Young Pharmacist: Huh?

Roger: I was thinking that it'd be good to stock up on this “superior quality” drug at the royal palace.

For a split second, I thought I saw the look in Roger’s eyes change.

His gaze was sharp, calm, and yet angry at the same time.

Young Pharmacist: Of course! I still have some of this drug in stock.

Roger: Where are you storing them?

Young Pharmacist: Where, huh. … Erm, it's a warehouse I rented nearby Euston Station.

Roger: Euston, A501XXX—

Young Pharmacist: Wha.

Jude: I already did my research on that place. The trading company has also been eyeing that area.

I turned in the direction that voice was coming from, and saw Jude and Ellis standing on the second floor.

(Why are the two of them here?)

(No way— that means this is…)

Roger: We’ve got the evidence. Go to that warehouse and seize all the “blue pill”.

Ellis: Understood.

Jude: Tch, that place is far from here. How troublesome.

Young Pharmacist: What’s all this about, Roger?

Ellis: … Roger.

Ellis tossed Roger’s hunting rifle down from the second floor.

Roger caught it and pointed it at the young pharmacist’s forehead.

Young Pharmacist: !?

Roger: Doctors and medicine exist precisely because illnesses aren't so easy to cure.

Roger: And yet, you had the cheek to take advantage of and trample on that.

Roger: — Save your apologies for the afterlife.

— BANG.

(Ah…)

(... Wh… wha…)

My field of vision was dyed bright red with blood.

My heart hammered hard against my chest, I stood there petrified as Roger put down his rifle and approached me.

Roger: I took the initiative to approach that pharmacist, built a trusted relationship with him, then I betrayed and killed him.

Kate: …

Roger: Here’s the question, young lady.

Roger: Was my betrayal evil or justified? What are your thoughts on it?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story event #roger barel #niki translates

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campoverlook-if · 6 months

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I FIXED IT!!!! (sorta...)

Had to do a bit of a compromise because I was just doing too much at the end of the day.

Now when you talk to K and D about meeting someone before them you'll only be able to mention one person and not the other.

So if you met both D and J before meeting K, you'll only mention meeting D, whereas if you only met J then you'll only mention them.

I could probably change it that you can mention both, but I'm honestly ready to move on and finish episode 1 before going back and making sure that section works. If you notice any more bugs or mistakes let me know.

Also newbie MC may still experience this problem because I totally forgot this string of text exists on that route and I have already uploaded the new file on DD and I'm too lazy to do it again, it is 12:30 am and I am ready to sleep. If only my ass was a teenager again.

(And I still need to go through the story at some point and make sure that ALL variations are actually showing up properly. Hoorah.)

#camp overlook #god that stressed me out #update

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daebraeksan · 2 years

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Reader feels lots of regrets, and Bokuto helps comfort them

Genre comfort, established relationship, domestic, gn reader

Wc 2164

Contents: hard on self, difficulty eating when stressed, food positivity/neutrality (intuitive eating/nonjudgemental eating), and of course comfort

a/n back at it again i 2023 lmfao bet you thought you’d seen the last of me etc etc lmfao haven’t uploaded in so long that i forgot my format whoops also i made a discord server hopefully the link works otherwise that would be embarrassing thanks

requested by @heart-an0n hope you like it and that it’s somewhat relevant to what you had in mind/wanted!

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The future is uncertain, and the past is a mistake, and the present is shit, so where are you supposed to be?

You can’t seem to shut down everything at once. If it’s not turmoil in your brain, then it’s in your tummy or chest. No wonder you hate being in the present moment, if the only time you’re ever in it is when you’re in pain.

You have no one to blame but yourself. As usual.

Your shame spiral swirls around you, thoughts smeared all over your brain, viscous and gluttonous. There’s nothing you can do when the overstimulation comes from within yourself.

Right?

That's how you feel, at least.

You wait.

That’s all you can do.

You wait.

You won’t be comforted. Not on your own. No comfort tv, no coloring books, no pets, no music.

You want someone to do it for you. Is that so wrong?

You shame yourself for being too dependent and lazy while you wait for Bokuto to come home, which is taking a bit longer than expected, since he stopped on the grocery store on the way home.

See? He’s doing something for you again. You can’t do anything! Leech leech leech!, you chant at yourself, just in case being mean to yourself was going to fix all your problems.

It hasn’t in the past, but what if it works this time? Don’t know until you try.

The front door clicks open and you hear rustling as Bokuto shuffles around, entering your shared abode.

“I’m home!” he announces.

“Welcome home,” you say. You’re not sure he heard you. But you know he trusts that you said it, and so even if he can’t hear it, you have to say it.

He kisses the top of your head on the way to taking the groceries to the kitchen. You want to get up and follow him but you don’t have the energy. You thought seeing him would magically blast you with the superpower to get up but alas. Some things not even Bokuto can fix.

You can’t unthink the thought. You wish you could. You wish you didn’t like scaring yourself with worst case scenarios.

He starts dinner and comes in to check on you.

“Have you eaten?” he asks.

You shake your head.

Bokuto never judgmentally sighs at you because he’s too nice. But if he was one to do that, the long pause in the air would have been the time to do it.

“Do you want a snack before dinner?”

How can you eat at a time like this?

“Chips?” he asks.

It’s so funny because you’re an adult! You can do whatever you want! You can have ice cream for dinner! Or chips as an appetizer! You can ruin your appetite however much you want!

But there’s still a nagging thought in your head before you do it like some judgmental parents are going to get you in trouble if you do.

But you can’t ruin an appetite you don't have.

Bokuto goes back into the kitchen and rummages around.

He returns with a bag of chips and eats one in front of you, then waves the bag over to you.

You sigh at yourself. You take a chip.

You see Bokuto move like he’s almost going to do a fist pump but then he stops himself. He’s not going to throw chips all over the floor. Again.

“Do you want to hang out with me while I cook?” he asks.

You really can’t say no. It is all you want. You wrap the blanket around yourself and follow him.

He smiles at you in amusement.

“What?” you ask. “Don’t say I look like a penguin,” you say, at the same time he says,” you look like a penguin.”

You level him with a look. He knows you don’t mean anything by it, so he blinks innocently.

Bokuto really is content to have you watch him cook. He doesn’t ask you to help at all. But if you didn’t think you’d get in the way with your blanket, you would.

But.

You need the blanket more than you need to feel useful.

You’re already at rock bottom, so who cares?

“How was your day?” you ask, cutting Bokuto off succinctly.

He knows how you are. He lets you distract them both with his day first. He tells you about his workout, media appearances, meetings, whatever funny stuff happened with his teammates, travel agents, room assignments, reality shows.

He chops and steams and stirs.

He washes his hands and holds your face carefully.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“It’s the same old stuff,” you mumble.

He squishes your face.

“It’s okay, I can listen again,” he says. “I love listening to you talk, and also supporting you.”

“Okay,” you said, but it sounds like “waaauuuuu” because he is still squishing your face.

You and he set the table and sit down to eat.

You serve yourself the portion size you think you can stomach while you hate yourself and feel awful, and Bokuto doesn’t say anything, because maybe you’ll feel better later, and you’ll be ready to have a snack at this point. It’s more important that you eat whatever you’re comfortable with now, than eat nothing at all, and he would never shame you for your eating habits. You’re allowed to make your own choices.

You start your story with “you know ______” and you’re always amazed at what he does remember (the most intricate tiny details) and what he doesn’t remember (stuff that you think is really obvious, but it’s not because he doesn’t listen, or anything. Honestly it’s just funny at this point.)

And you explain the situation and what the trigger was as to why you are thinking about past regrets now.

And you know he wants to stop you because you are going into a spiral and it doesn’t really help to spiral. You don't think you’re really learning new information at this point.

But you just want him to know all the facts and details and how wrong and bad you are so he can make an accurate assessment of the situation.

He looks at you and listens attentively throughout your story.

You sigh. “Okay. I’m done,” you say.

He opens his mouth and you burst out, “oh also,” and finish up some last details.

He listens.

“I’m done for real this time,” you say.

“If you have more to share, that’s okay, too, and I want to listen,” he says. “But I’m going to respond now, if that’s what you want?”

You nod.

He sighs.

“The most important thing is that you learn,” he says.

Shame bubbles in you. Of course he’s going to think you’re wrong and bad. You also think that. You weren’t telling him so that he would absolve you of guilt.

But it still feels bad to have your worst fears confirmed (that you already believe about yourself.)

“And you already have,” he says. “Numerous times.”

You know this. You know that this is the only thing someone can say to you. You wished it helped.

“What would help?” he asks.

You sigh. You’ve never thought about it in that way. You don’t know.

“I wish it never happened,” you say.

“Other than that,” he says.

You look at your plate. You look at a scuff on the wallpaper. You look at the line where Bokuto’s eyebrow hairs shift from pointing up to pointing to the side. “I just wish I wasn’t wrong.”

“It’s okay to be wrong,” he says. “It’s actually super okay and normal. People are wrong all the time. And some people don't even care! Some people are horribly wrong and just keep being that way, forever.”

You know this. If everyone cared ten percent as much as you care about being wrong then maybe the world would be less…like this.

“Even if you’re the villain in someone else’s story, you don’t have to be the villain in your own story. And just because that other person doesn’t forgive you, doesn’t mean you can’t move on. And even if you’re the villain in your own story, you can make different decisions next time. You learned. You grew. You want to do better. That’s all that matters.”

You feel tears peeking out. He swiftly moves to your side and hands you a tissue.

You rest your head in his chest and a sob bursts forth. You always cry the most (the best?) with Bokuto. He’s the only person you feel safe enough to be like this with.

Except now you're crying so you can’t intellectually remember all that because your ears are filled with the sound of your own crying. Your brain is filled only with that audio, and the sensation of cold tears on your hot cheeks, and the heaviness of your nose running, and the solidness of Bokuto as he lets you press yourself against him. He will not let you go until you are ready.

He pats your head and back and hands you more tissues.

You look at him, watery and poised for another outburst.

“I don’t want to be a bad person,” you sob. “I’m sorry I’m a bad person.”

He says your name softly and presses soft kisses to your head. He hugs you.

You breath through all the fluids and your chest feels emptier. Your head feels clearer. You’re afraid to feel shame again. You’re afraid to let this go in case you make another mistake again.

You don't want to make another mistake again.

It’s always hanging over your head, all the mistakes.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say.

“Do you want to talk some more?” he asks. “Do you want some water?”

You nod.

“Water?” he asks.

You nod again.

He goes and grabs your water bottle (how he knows where it is when you didn’t even know will remain a mystery) and opens it for you. You take a small sip. The coldness in your throat and tummy feels like a wall between you crying and you now.

“I love you so much, no matter what,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

“Seriously,” he says. “I know you know, but I am telling you.”

You nod.

“Even if you do stuff that makes you think you’re a bad person,” he says.

You shake your head.

“Don’t shake your head at me,” he says.

You’re working on the part of you that thinks you don’t deserve him, that he’s too good for you, that you’re not good enough for him. You’re working on that part. But it makes its presence known, during your lowest moments.

But Bokuto loves all parts of you. Even the parts of you that are painful for him. He loves all of you and knows that you are a person with a whole past and habits and attitudes and beliefs. And he knows that you love him and are trying your best every day, just like how he loves you and is trying his best every day.

“I love you no matter what you dom” he says. “Being a good person and a bad person doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not real. We’re all just people. I love you so much because you’re you.”

You’re learning to accept that, but even if there’s a part of you that doesn’t believe it, Bokuto loves that part of you, too. And you love all of him, so if logic decides to ever work one day, you’ll be set.

“You’re beautiful and amazing, but that’s not all there is to you. It's okay that you’re not perfect. That’s not why I love you. That’s not why I started loving you, and that’s not why I love you now. I think you’re perfect for me, but that’s because I know that we’re both choosing this life together every day. I’m so grateful and think you’re perfect and amazing because you’re my partner. We’re in this together.”

You nod. You hug him and he hugs you back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Okay,” you say quietly, because a part of you still feels like if you’re too loud about your happiness, it might get taken away.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I’m proud of you and love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says. “Thanks for letting me be there for you.”

He makes you drink some more water and you help him put away the leftovers (which you’re probably going to dip back into in a few hours when you’re feeling snackish—and when you do, a little part of Bokuto will relax with relief, because even though he never judges you or pressures you, he wants you to be healthy, happy, and nourished. He loves you so much and wants the best for you. And he feels so lucky because he knows you would do the same for him.)

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unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men · 10 months

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Pairing: Demon Lloyd Hansen/ Reader

Summary: Going to hang out with your friends on Halloween but what ends up happening is anything but normal.

Word Count: 3,448

Warnings: Smut,rough sex, sex with a demon, dub con (reader consents but is initially wary) use of pet names, Dom/sub vibes,P in V, Oral Sex (female receiving), swearing,blood,gore, violence, Demon Lloyd Hansen (he’s a warning ok)

Thank you to @jessybarnes my Tumblr bestie for the wonderful bingo card,@firefly-graphics for the consent divider and @saradika for the wonderful dividers and reblog dividers.

(Sorry this is WAY after October but I plan to upload more from this bingo board for Do It Up December. Also all mistakes are mine and mine alone google docs can only fix so much lol)

After working you wanted nothing more than to get home, put on your softest pj's and watch something and crash, hard. But your friends had planned a sort of Halloween thing and you were practically forced to go, sighing you sent your friends a text letting them know you wanted to change and grab some snacks before heading over. Putting down your phone you made your way to the bedroom and changed into what you called “lazy” clothes, a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt. Heading back out you grab the snacks you purchased a few days ago and bagged them before grabbing your phone and purse just in case and locking the door behind you. Walking the short distance to your friends house you had no idea it would be the last time things would ever be the same.

Walking up to your friend's house you frowned seeing no lights on “The hell?” taking out your phone you notice your original message was never opened, banging on the door you sigh “Hey this isn’t funny! Open the damn door! Bunch of morons….” Sighing, you slide your phone into your back pocket and glance around, finding the “special” rock you slide a key out from under it and open the front door. Walking in you glance around “Guys? If you're planning on scaring me I’m going to leave!”

Mumbling to yourself you walk further into the room, frowning you trip over something and stumble falling to the floor “What the hell” Your pants feel wet and your frown increases, moving to stand your hand slips on something. Turning on a nearby lamp a scream slides out of your mouth as you finally take in the scene around you, all your friends are dead laying lifeless and mutilated on the floor. Scrambling to get up all you end up doing is covering yourself in their blood and some vicera, fighting the urge to gag you manage to press into a corner.

Standing shakily you realize you were in a giant pentagram “The fuck happened here?!?!” Suddenly you hear a low chuckle and a voice “Well you see Sunshine you fuck around with things you don’t understand and well shit happens” Eyes wide you turn towards where the voice came from seeing nothing but darkness, swallowing hard you look at your hand seeing it covered in blood. “Aww first time seeing this much blood Sunshine? Good thing you weren’t here for the real fun….it got even messier”

Shaking your head you eye the door and hear someone clicking their tongue “I wouldn’t recommend that Sunshine, would really hate to kill you for something silly” Swallowing you shiver slightly “Well I would rather not stay uh here…pretty sure I’m going to puke” You hear velvety laughing making you shiver again “How about we talk about things somewhere less likely to make you throw up? Because we have a lot to discuss Sunshine” Mutely nodding you close your eyes and feel a hot breeze.

“Go on Sunshine, open those pretty eyes, you're safe for now” Slowly you open your eyes and see your back at your place frowning,you glance around seeing nobody “Uh thanks? Where are you?” More laughter this time much closer, turning quickly you see nobody. “Now the question Sunshine is, do you want to see the real me or the form I use the most?” Swallowing you, think for a second “Can I see your real form?” You can almost feel him smirk as he answers “Sure Sunshine if you think your pretty little head can handle it”

Nodding knowing he will see it you clear your throat before answering slightly annoyed “I wouldn’t have asked if I couldn’t handle it” This time the laugh sounds darker and almost sinister “You always such a spitfire Sunshine? Most of the times when people act like that with me it doesn’t go well, kind of like your friends, but you I don’t mind it. Does that mean I’ll keep liking it? Who knows” Again you can almost feel him at you neck smirking, goosebumps form on your skin as you wait for whatever is going to come next.

Suddenly the air feels charged, almost electric and it makes you want to close your eyes again and huddle into the corner. But you don’t do either, keeping your eyes focused to where you think the voice is coming from you slowly see a figure moving. The darkness manages to keep him well hidden until he steps out, the first thing you notice is the legs. Long and lean but muscular you frown slightly until you see the hooves, your eyes widen and he grins stepping out more. His torso is the same as his legs lean but muscular, thick arms and even larger hands draw your attention.

You’re both fascinated and horrified at the same time, you hear him chuckle drawing your attention back to his face. You would have gasped if you had any air in your lungs, his chest was broad and wide but not comically so. His face is what had you speechless, he was handsome and it made you imagine some sort of greek statue of one of the gods. His short black hair was meticulously groomed along with the mustache, taking another look you realized there were horns on the top of his head.

“Well this has got to be a first Sunshine, normally this is the point where people beg, plead, and offer whatever they have for me to leave and right now you're eyeing me like I’m the last piece of pie” You swallow and notice a tail moving behind him, sitting up you lean to get a better look making him laugh again “All you have to do is ask Sunshine, I don’t bite well not yet at least” He winks at you and you find yourself blushing at it, turning his tail flicks out almost annoyed. Then you notice the wings and you find yourself suddenly up and moving closer to him.

“Well aren’t you just a fascinating person Sunshine, well go on and get a good look if it will sate your curiosity” Licking your lips you are almost touching him, the heat radiating off of him is almost too much and yet not enough, reaching your hand out you gently touch his arm. The skin is soft, softer than it looks and your hands move to touch his horns. They feel just like how horns should, frowning as you move to his wings touching them almost cautiously. “Don’t be getting shy on me now Sunshine”

You nod slightly and gently stroke the wing, you hear him make a noise and you look at him with a blush creeping up on your face. He winks at you and you quickly turn away from him and lightly touch where his tail connects to him, and you swear you hear him groan “Sunshine I get your curious but better what what your touching” Pulling your hand away quickly you find yourself apologizing “Uh sorry….I don’t know how to ask this nicely so I’m just going to ask, what are you?”

He smiles and gently takes your hand kissing the top of it. “Some call me Lloyd, well the ones I like do” You nod “And the ones you don’t like?” He grins and you see the sharp canine teeth “Oh they don’t get to talk Sunshine and trust me when I say you would rather have me like you” You nod knowing he’s right “And for what I am, well I’m a demon. Your little friends were playing with a Ouija board thinking they were having a good time, well they did until they didn’t. See, messing with something like that is already stupid but messing with one and thinking you know what you’re doing well it gets you killed.”

You nod knowing that it was a dumb idea to play with anything that “opened” doors “That explains you but what happened to my friends?” Lloyd grins again “Oh they thought they could control me, guess they figured out real fast that wasn’t happening. And I don’t take too well to being controlled so I killed them” You should feel upset, mad, hell even sad but they got what they deserved. Who in the hell thinks they can control an ACTUAL demon? You look at him suddenly “Uh why haven’t you killed me then?”

Lloyd moves closer to you, almost touching but not quite, you could smell what smelled like a very expensive cologne and it made you want to press closer to him, nuzzle into his neck. Shaking your head slightly you look at him and see his smug smirk “Well you see Sunshine I came here because of you, these idiots happened to just be here.” You look up at him confused “Me? I don’t understand” Again Lloyd moved closer now touching you ever so slightly “Oh Sunshine have you forgotten already?”

“You’ve played with a Ouija board yourself a time or two haven’t you? But unlike these idiots you actually know what you're doing with one, and I have been watching you for such a very long time and I figured it was time to pay you a proper visit. And what a better time than Halloween when the veil is at its most thin, so here I am and here you are.” Suddenly you remember playing on a Ouija board as a little girl having the best time, and then once again as a party trick in college.

“Ahh she finally remembers! Little did you know you summoned me Sunshine and now that I’m here I have some ideas about what we can do” The last part makes you shiver, your body reacting and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself. “And what are your ideas?” You cringe slightly hearing how breathy your voice sounds, there was no way you were getting turned on by a demon who had literally just murdered your friends. Lloyd laughs this time a full laugh and if it doesn’t make you clench and your pretty sure he knows it “See I knew you would be receptive to this Sunshine”

“And for the record my ideas are exactly what you think they are, I have been waiting for this moment for years and after the long wait I can’t find myself wanting to be patient any more” You should move away from him but you instead move closer “Stop making me do this!” You feel Lloyds hand move through your hair “Oh Sunshine I’m not doing anything to you … well not yet at least, this is all you for the moment and I suggest just enjoying it. Now let’s take this somewhere more comfortable” You close your eyes and feel a thumb tracing your lips opening your mouth slightly. You take the thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently.

“So eager aren’t you Sunshine, but I need a taste first, it's only fair after such a long time waiting for you” You have no time to react,and suddenly you're thrown onto your bed and staring up at the ceiling and a hand pulling off your pants and panties. You can feel him looking at you and you feel the urge to squirm, your shirt is suddenly off and you're now totally bare. Grinning Lloyd looks you over and licks his lips “Well so far this has been worth the wait Sunshine, now I suggest you stay still wouldn’t want to accidentally hit something. Would hate for you to bleed out or die”

You nod and it seems like an eternity until you feel him touching you, he runs his hands up your legs and you feel one his claws gently tracing a pattern. Moving higher up he spreads your legs open and you let out a soft whimper but he hears it smirking “Well look at this, someone is excited to have a demon defile her, I knew you were worth the wait Sunshine” You feel his mouth suddenly at your core and you tense before you feel the first lick at your folds,almost hesitant as if testing you, gasping you realize his tongue is forked and you have the urge to want to feel it deep inside of you.

“Oh I intend to Sunshine no worries just lay there and behave like a good girl and maybe we can both enjoy this'' Giving you no warning he begins to eat you out like a starving man at a buffet, you try your hardest to no succeed in enjoying it but it's been too long and it feels too good and soon enough you find yourself moaning and grinding into his needy mouth. Lloyd smirks and takes your clit into his mouth sucking hard as his forked tongue licks and laps at every spot it can. You try your hardest to stay and not enjoy this but your body is telling a different story “Mmm Sunshine I can feel you clenching around me”

You blush trying to shake your head but you know he’s right, a low needy whimper slides out of your throat making him chuckle his tongue moving deeper. Your eyes close and you arch again sweat pools on your forehead as you're ravished by his sinful tongue and mouth, his mustache rubs against your walls sends a jolt into your very core. You feel the coil tightening and soon you hear yourself begging him to let you cum “Please….” the word tumbles out of your mouth, shaky and hoarse. One of his clawed hands grip your hips harder, puncturing the skin but you're too far gone to notice or care.

“Oh Sunshine you taste divine and the begging well I’m almost tempted to let you cum just because it was so good, but we have lots of time and I want to explore you fully” Letting his tongue continue to lap at your juices he looks up at you, and you moan seeing his mustache wet with your arousal. Large fat tears roll down your face as all the sensations become too much “Need to cum! Please!” Lloyd looks at you and strokes your cheek smirking “Aww Sunshine is it too much for you? Let me help you” Your gaze moves down to see his thick hard cock nudging your core, your eyes widen and a sliver of panic sets in “That will not fit!” Lloyd laughs and smirks “I appreciate the compliment but it will I’ll make sure of it Sunshine”

You feel him thick and hot pushing harder and you find yourself opening your legs wider for him, your hand moving to your clit rubbing it as you moan loudly “Fuck Sunshine look at you going to make you mine, well you were already mine this seals the deal” Gripping your hips you feel him slam into you fully taking the breath from your lungs, the stretch brings tears to your eyes but that soon give way to unrivaled pleasure. As he thrusts into you, your eyes close and your hips grind into him pushing him deeper “Oh god, I’m so close!” Leaning down to look at you he smirks but there is another look within his eyes but your too far gone to appreciate it “I’m going to fill you up Sunshine and you’ll never be alone again I swear it”

His thrusts become more and more erratic as he slams into you, your body bouncing as his hand continues to grip your hips, his free hand rubs your clit and you almost scream his name “Can I cum please? Please please please!” Lloyd grunts with each thrust and chuckles “How can I deny you when you ask you pretty Sunshine, go on and coat my cock and I’ll fill you up nice and full. You nod and feel him thrusting faster and harder, his hand rubs your clit faster and the coil inside of you snaps, with a loud moan you shout his name as your orgasm crashes into you. You can vaguely feel him throb and twitch as he buries himself deep, pulling you up he kisses you hard and you can taste yourself in his mouth. He smirks and his voice is low, almost a growl as whispers into your ear “You’re mine Sunshine forever” You feel his claw like nails moving along your skin leaving hot angry scratches behind making you whimper softly.

Lloyd grins and bites down on your lower lip as you hear him growl, his cock jerks hard and he explodes and ropes of his thick seed pump into you. You can feel every bit of it being pumped into you and you find yourself moaning loudly, black spots fill your vision as you finally accept this. Wrapping your legs around him, he smirks and holds you close to him as he continues to thrust and fill you. Your eyes drift close and you hear him laugh “Aww wore you out Sunshine? Get some sleep I’ll make sure you're nice and full” You sag into him feeling him continuing to pound into you.

Waking after what seems like hours, you feel someone stroking your hair.. Groaning softly you press into a warm body and your eyes shoot open and you glance around trying to get your bearings, hearing a soft chuckle you look at the man stroking your hair “About time you woke up Sunshine, I thought maybe I had actually broken you” You glance at him and talk but your voice is raspy and hoarse from moaning “Lloyd?” He smirks and nods “The one and only Sunshine, and now you’ve seen both my forms. This one is less fun but also less likely to have a mob on my hands” Looking him over he looked almost the same, minus the horns,tail and cloven hooves you almost liked this form better.

“I’m wounded Sunshine and here I thought you loved my horns and tail, now shall we discuss things?” You nod slowly, your body feels like a semi ran over it then backed over it about a hundred times “Alright uh what things are we discussing?” Lloyd smirks and you catch the faintest glimpse of fang “Your marriage arrangement to myself of course” Your eyes widen and you're suddenly very much awake “My whatnow?!” Laughing Lloyd looks at you and the room feels suddenly smaller and darker a chill moving through your body “Aww Sunshine you’re breaking my demonic heart here, see little did you know that when you played with those Ouija boards you had actually made a vow to me that one day you would be mine, and well here we are.”

You look at him shocked. “What?” Lloyd strokes your cheek and smiles “See should have been paying better attention Sunshine, see when you were graciously giving me orgasm after orgasm I was reciting what comes down to a marriage pact and when you were moaning my name and calling me god that is what sealed the literal deal. Don’t deny that you wanted this Sunshine, some darker part of you did, your life was nothing and at least now you have me. Besides, the only way out of this is if I break the contract but we both know we don’t want that.” You stare at him before realizing his words are true, you did want this well not this exactly but you wanted more.

“So what happens now?” Lloyd grins and places a kiss on your bare shoulder trailing a long jagged scratch with a smirk. “Well Sunshine I stay here with you, and after 3 months when the wedding happens you get to come with me forever” You swallow hard and he kisses your cheek whispering softly “I can feel your tension from here Sunshine but you’ll fit into your role, I have no doubt about that. Now you relax and let me take care of you” You nod slowly letting everything sink in, realizing that things were definitely different … and you hoped that you could handle it.

#chris evans #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x fic #demon lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #smuttober #this is so late I'm so sorry

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k-kasuga · 1 year

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Well, first of all, I must give as an excuse that I have been very stressed and overwhelmed by exams and work for the last two months, and one of the ways of survival that I found was reading the beautiful AU Spider Nephew by @hermesserpent-stuff

As it may be that I was a bit fixed on this AU, I even dreamed about it. And then I will relate the parts of my dream that I remember and that inspired me to upload these drawings in the first place;

The dream was in the 3rd person, as if I were a reader/spectator of everything. I was aware that we were in the Spider Nephew AU, and I just wanted to know what was happening now. Suddenly there was a scene with Hammerhead and Sally Avril, where they were arguing because Hammerhead almost hit her with he car or something, and she was very upset.

Then Hammerhead convinces Sally to talk and go to a safer place, there she told him, very upset that she had had a very strong fight with her parents and did not want to return home, and having exhausted the possibilities of who to ask for a favor, Hammerhead allows him to stay in his house.

Another day Sally met Peter and Harry again, (the Enforcers, Hammerhead and Tombstone were gathered here for some reason.) and they tell her (in summary and hiding details) how they came to be part of this family. Sally, shocked, tells them with shame that she left her house because her parents were racists and they found out that her boyfriend was Randy and they wanted to force her to break up and never see him again. And going out with Flash (Apparently her parents wanted her to marry him since she was little.)

Everyone is very surprised and upset by this, especially Harry and Peter who know that Randy is a great guy and that, despite the stereotypes, Sally's group is very mixed. (hinting that he would have to get away from all of them)

Let's just say that there the plot of the dream is left aside in favor of funny and fluffy moments. Hammerhead and Sally being an uncle-niece duo with very clashing personalities, fighting a lot, but loving each other nonetheless. Hammerhead teaching Sally boxing, so that she is strong and can defend herself in case he is not there. Sally being a bit protective of her pseudo cousins Harry and Peter. Hammerhead telling Sally that she reminds her sister that she raised him and protected him from her abusive father. And a scene that I really liked, where Sally introduces her new family to Randy, who doesn't judge them and is still a great guy, and Tombstone, who is also there, is between nervous and happy to meet (without anyone know) the son of his old friend whom he has not seen for years, but hears that he is doing very well.

Well, I stop raving a bit, and I take the opportunity to thank @hollowsart for her beautiful design of Hammy, which inspired me to draw him.

And I apologize in advance if I have any spelling mistakes or if something is not understood, English is not my first language.

#tssm #tssm hammerhead #tssm sally avril #spiderman #spectacular spider man #spider nephew AU #hermes what did you do to me #spiderman fanart #hammerhead #spiderman hammerhead #sally avril

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a-tale-never-told · 11 months

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Important annoucement!

//*Sighs* I didn't want to do this again, but with the state that I'm in, I feel as If I have to at this point.//

//Greetings amazing readers, Mod Sam here. As you can obviously tell by the thumbnail, this is a very important announcement that I have to make. Because I have been thinking this over and I feel like I can't do this to my health anymore.//

//Currently, I'm on a downward spiral of constant paranoia about how I'm treating the blog in general and insecurities about my writing. I had a conversation with Mod Freeze earlier this morning in the DMs about my concerns about doing the ask blog thing and feeling like I killed the story by doing the ask block in the first place. Obviously, this is incorrect as I've received multiple asks this morning about the last story chapter I just uploaded, which eased some of the tension in my head.//

//But at the same time, I feel terrible that I even decided to do it in the first place, as it only just interrupted the flow of the story, and only just disappointed some anons that didn't like the ask block. To be fair, no one likes the ask block. I don't like the ask block either, which puts into question why I even did it in the first place. I just got so paranoid about this fact that I thought that the reason why people didn't send asks related to the other story posts was because of that factor.//

//And that is another significant thing I want to talk about as it's concerning to me and how I write these chapters: I got almost no asks related to the last two posts I made. The only asks that I got from the whole heartfelt moment between Hajime and Natsumi, which I worked my ass off to complete, weren't even related to the moment itself. It was instead related to an ask about fixing Hajime's car, which I answered, and I have gotten 5 asks related to that. Yes, 5 asks had nothing to do with the moment itself and instead were talking about a random ask about Kazuichi. Two of those were basically the same ask back-to-back.//

//Another thing is that I got a few asks related to the moment when Hajime and Natsumi showed up at Hajime's house and Natsumi was giving her peculiar intro. It was only three asks, Three. Obviously, I know this might not be a big deal, but it sets a big precedent about how I'm writing these chapters because I put so much effort and work into making these story chapters after school when I'm tired and I want to lay down on a bed and watch Die Hard. But to see the amount of asks I got for the last two days, and almost no likes on any of these posts sets a question: What am I doing?//

//What exactly am I doing wrong that is preventing my ability to get more asks and likes? Is it the writing? The sense of humor? The worldbuilding? Everything?! I honestly had to think clearly about what's hurting the blog, and most of these mistakes and faults can mostly be attributed to my own shortcomings as a writer. Obviously, I needed to determine a reason as to why this was the case, and I eventually found it in the form of these issues//

//First, the amount of asks and anons. I hate to bring Mod Bubbles, Poi, and Freeze into this, especially Bubbles since he's one of my good friends on this website, and considering the amount of stress and problems he's going through, which I sympathize with completely and I pray that he feels better eventually. But it's just... frustratingly hard to not feel jealous when I see an ASOOT story post or NVPM story blog post and I look at my count and think "What am I even doing?"//

// I completely understand that ASOOT and NVPM have been here far longer than I have, and had extensive time to build their blogs from small story blogs to being almost the gold standard about how to write and do a story blog, and I feel like I can do the same. It's just that even though I try my best a whole lot, I still end up getting a few likes, but obviously more asks. The ask count is truly confusing as it's extremely high on some days, only to turn out next to nothing in the following days. Compared to Bubbles and Poi, who I'm guessing are bringing in asks by the hundreds and people adore their stories a lot.//

//In fact, Mod Freeze! Mod Freeze, a relative newcomer to the Dr story blog community, and someone that I appreciate a whole lot, is pulling in more likes than I do. His most recent story post is sitting at around 12 likes. 12!. Which is significantly a far higher count than mine, almost to the point of Bubble's levels if I'm being honest. I don't quite get it to be honest with you. Mod Freeze has two arcs, compared to my one, which could explain why he's more successful than me, but at the same time, It honestly makes me look like a fool because my average like count for a post is like 4 or 5. And that's the peak of the mountain! I'm starting to lose it, I honestly cannot comprehend what's happening with my head. Like, is the writing of the New Future that good? It is according to my eyes, but do people really don't like my writing? Is that the main issue?//

//Another main issue is the tagging. Now when I tag a post or an ask, I do credit those who send me the asks by using "Anonymous" like everyone else, as well as those who don't go by anonymous, like "Hypergamming999" for example. But when I tag a post with the Danganronpa tag, I put it as "Dr2" or "Dr" like to shorten the sentences. This is incredibly awful because it's giving off the negative impression that I don't really care about the story or Danganronpa at all, which is quite the opposite, I can assure you. It just gives off a terrible look that I look bored and not motivated to do it, which I'm not. The issue is that I'm tired every day from school, and when I finish my assignments, I feel so tired and my brain can't even focus clearly when I make a post, so that's why the writing is so subpar for most of the time.//

// I looked at the tags for ASOOT, for The New Future, and for NVPM and Dr. Suvivor, and they all put the tags with proper pronunciation and how it's very much supposed to look and resemble like how a normal DR tag would look like. But then you look at my tags, and it just screams tired all over the board. ONLY NOW did I actually start putting the Danganronpa tag, but the fact that these sorts of tags have been on my posts for about a month at this point is quite embarrassing when you self-reflect. When you take this long to realize that the way you tag your posts is shitty, lazy, and unimaginative, you know that you've done something wrong as a writer.//

//Speaking of writing, we got the dialogue. I honestly am trying my damm hardest with the dialogue, and I wholeheartedly believe I do amazing when it comes to historical moments, worldbuilding, or emotional and heartfelt moments, but the rest of the dialouge is just so incredibly poor. That scene with Hajime freaking out over the atrocities of the Soviet Stalin era? What was even the point of that conversation at all?! Just to do some more worldbuilding at least? Chiaki saying that they are going to save the world, even though she doesn't know that she is going to save the world? What the fuck is this?//

//I think you get the picture here. The dialogue is so confusing that I almost believe this was done by an amateur who hasn't gotten used to writing, which is me. Sometimes the characters act like themselves, like Fuyuhiko for example. I think I nailed his personality pretty well, and he's possibly one of the characters that I think is written accurately as to how he would behave in a situation like this. Hajime is this too, especially in the serious scenes. That conversation with Natsumi about her insecurities is honestly what I think Hajime could say in a situation like this. But then you get people like Hiroshi and Keiko and even Ibuki in some instances, and they act almost completely different from their original canon selves. It feels like they're not even the same person!.//

//I haven't seen ASOOT Season 2 yet, so that's why Hiroshi and Keiko feel far different from what they would originally do and say. But then, we have Ibuki and she's been relatively calm for the most part throughout the scenes she's in, instead of the hyperactive, cheerful, energized, rockstar girl that she usually is. Not once did Ibuki act like herself in this blog, aside from a few key moments in the plot. Overall, the dialogue is inconsistent in how it's presented, and the execution varies from time to time.

//And YET another issue is the timing. I don't know how the schedule for DR story blogs works officially. Is it on Saturdays? Sundays? Mondays? Because I see most story blogs active on Monday or Wednesday! What's the schedule here, can someone please explain me? I haven't seen Poi's blog yet, so I can't compare her timing to mine, ASOOT seems to upload in the evenings, and Creeper does it in the early mornings, though he is from the UK so I can at least understand why he uploads so early since Uk time schedules are far different here in America. Freeze, I don't know exactly when he updates. I believe he updates on the weekend or whenever he has time to. But these are minuscule little issues compared to the mindboggling upload schedule I have .//

//I upload constantly Every. Single. Day one I finish school and not only does this mean that you see a post from me each day, but also stresses me out quite a lot because I come back from my classes, drained out and exhausted, and then I have to come back, do a post or an ask, and then stop and wait for said anons to come back with more asks. It is painfully exhausting and as of writing this, my arms have gone so numb that I can actually feel the numbness getting to my wrists. Obviously, the answer is to get a better schedule like I said a few weeks ago, but I have not committed to stopping where I should. And that is a mistake that I now have to learn or else I'll continue burning myself out untill I cannot handle it anymore.//

//Another reason is that I want to finish this arc early. Keep in mind that we are at the near end of October by now, and I definitely don't want this to continue into January of next year. But at the same time, my mind and brain are so drained out that I can't even focus on what I'm doing most of the time and it ends up making the posts look disappointing as a result. To have the arc end in January or even February would be incredibly embarrassing for me, as it proves that I can't even finish a single arc without taking months to complete. That's why I try to upload on a daily basis to reduce the time I have, but that has obviously not aged well, so what can I do?.//

//But the single, systematic, significant issue of this entire blog, the one problematic and complicated issue that brings this thing down is, without question, the premise. Now, it's a very interesting premise to be honest. A bunch of ragtag teenagers forms a team to fight back against the forces of pure, sinister sin on this earth that is communism and the Soviet Union, while also trying to change and bring the world out of its stagnation, both technologically, and socially, in order to lead to a better future. That sounds like a pretty amazing premise and an incredibly unique one for a story blog, that is if you ever heard or learned history before.//

//The lack of knowledge of the rest of my fanbase about history is truly what I think holds this entire story down. Obviously, it's not your fault at all, I blame the schools for not making history a mandatory thing, as it's really interesting, I just want to clarify that? But let's be honest: How many anons and story blog anons, out of everyone here know what the Soviet Union is? The Civil Rights Movement? The Cold War? Vietnam? John F Kenndey? The Aztecs? Egypt? Germany? Who here knows a single clue about history or what they're talking about?//

//I think the answer is clear, as while there are several anons that do know about history quite a bit actually, the majority don't know, and that's a massive issue. Given how so few people, especially in the Dr story blog community, know about history other than a few facts, is mindblowing. And I feel like I'm the main person to blame for not teaching you all what I'm talking about before I started the story, as to give you all a better understanding as to what the setting is and what exactly our characters are in right now. I promised all of you that I would explain the events and lore behind everything, but I haven't really done it, didn't I?//

//The fact that we are now at the point where Hajime has to deal with a Stasi agent attacking his family, despite almost everyone not even knowing what the Stasi even god damm is, is so embarrassing and astounding, I can't even fathom why I didn't do a review of this earlier. It would have been so much more easier, wouldn't it? Explantation to the audience is key, especially when it comes to things that people don't know or haven't had a clue is key, as it allows them to clearly understand what's going on, and how they can comprehend what they're listening to and what to do in this case. Clearly, I have failed in this as we're a quarter into this, and people still don't know what's happening.//

//When you fail at even explaining to your audience the fucking premise of the whole story blog and what it actually means, something is clearly wrong with you as a writer, like seriously. To fail at something so simple as explaining a premise to people is a thing that I cannot even put into words, as it's just unbelievable. What is the point of even continuing if people don't know what I'm talking about?//

// *Sighs* I'm not trying to sound constantly negative all the time with these things, I'm really, really not. I don't want to be a Nerderotic or Mauler, because those guys are just pissed off over any conceivable thing that they don't like, and give rather god-awful takes, though the takes are more on Nerderotic's part than Mauler's because he has some decent takes, albeit with questionable ones as well. //

// The point is that I'm so overwhelmed, stressed out, and tired as fuck at this stage, that I just want to finish this post and stop uploading for the day because this is just too much for my mental state to handle. Yet I keep going because I want to see this blog be successful one day. Everything for the past three months has been nothing but constant stress and work for me, and it's reached a point where I need to think and self-reflect on what I'm doing or there's no going back for me.//

// I'm just... *sighs* I can't even say anything other than the fact that I'm sorry for expressing my emotions. I guess I cannot express my feelings on this in a stressed way, can I? I just have to take it, do I? Sorry for having some creativity in my life, and trying to think outside the box! *sighs* To those of you who support me, @a-student-out-of-time @thenewfuture @tired-writer-in-progress @alizachan @spyrkle4, and the rest of you, thank you so much for this support that you guys give me throughout this. I'll be fine, I just... need a minute to catch myself, but I cannot understate how much I value your support and kind advice through this difficult time throughout this, and making this blog a reality. I greatly appreciate your support and wish all happy blessings in the future.//

// I formally apologize if this turned into a vent about my insecurities as a young writer, but I felt like I had to address this at some point because this was going to be an issue, and I felt that if I didn't address this, something worse was going to happen that I would regret wholeheartedly. I'm just... drained out and done with writing this post, and I hope you all can understand why I feel this way and how I want to improve this story blog for the better.//

//This is Mod Sam from A Tale Never Told, signing out. Have a good one and... I'm just so tired and done with doing more posts today. God help my soul...//

#mod talks #a tale never told #announcement #story blog

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biggerbetterbat · 2 months

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WITH YOU II | [15] TIME OF DECISION

Daryl Dixon x oc!Charlie

Summary: Charlie once again doubts Rick’s decisions. She’s not convinced to the rightfulness of the mission. She has to pick who she wants to protect. Her choice brings consequences.

Warnings: guns, language, walkers, mention of killing, and typical twd things if I missed sth

Words: 4.258

A/N: Hello :) I would like to apologize for not uploading a chapter, but I finished it just moments ago. I was busy with exams for the past month. I promise that next chapter will be published sooner as I want to finish it today/tomorrow. Thank you for reading and your comments, I absolutely love reading them!

Rick had called a meeting, and everyone in Alexandria had gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. The church, once a place of peace and reflection, now felt like the heart of their troubled community. Charlie glanced at Andy, who stood silently beside her. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and the faint lingering traces of candle wax. The evening light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the floor. Rick stood at the front, his presence commanding attention.

"We have food. But they're not giving it away," said Rick. "Those Saviors, almost killed Sasha, Daryl, and Abraham. Now, sooner or later they would've found us, just like those Wolves did." he said, looking around at people's faces. "Just like Jesus did. They would have killed someone or some of us. And own us. Then, low on food, we would loose. This is the only way. But this needs to be a group decision." he added after his speech. "If anyone objects, raise your hand."

"Isn't it already made?" Cass asked, fixing glasses on his nose.

"You sure we can beat them?"

"I have the same question."

"After everything we've been through...yes. I'm sure," Rick nodded.

What we Rick was talking about? - was Charlie's first thought. Because Alexandria's residents were still green when it came to fighting, guns, weapons, and walkers. They had survived, yes, but they had done so mostly behind the safety of their walls, relying on the seasoned fighters like Rick and his group. The Survivors group was experienced. They had been hardened by countless battles, losses, and near-death experiences.

"Then that's what we tell them." Morgan interrupted Charlie's thoughts.

"They don't compromise." Rick shook his head.

"It's not a compromise," Morgan disagreed. "It's a choice. It's a way out for them and for us."

"We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety." answered Rick with annoyance in his voice. "We have to come for them, before they come for us. They always come back."

"They comeback when they're dead, too."

"We'll stop them. We have before."

"I'm not talking about the walkers." Morgan's words hanged in the air.

She had seen her fair share of death, had lost people she cared about, and each loss left a scar. These scars weren't just physical but etched deeply into her psyche. The faces of the dead often visited her in quiet moments, their memories a constant reminder of what she had lost. Charlie knew better than anyone what Morgan's words meant.

There was a palpable tension between the two men, a silent battle of wills. Morgan's stance was calm, yet resolute, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated belief in his pacifist philosophy. Rick, on the other hand, was a warrior, a leader who believed in fighting to protect what they had built.

"Morgan wants to talk to them first. I think that would be a mistake, but it's not up to me. I'll talk to the people still at home." Rick said. "I'll discuss it with people on guard now, too, but who else wants to approach the Saviors, talk to them first?"

"What happened here, we won't let happen again." said determined Aaron. "I won't."

"Well, looks like it's settled." Charlie said, catching Rick's eyes. Just by this short interaction, he knew that Charlie wasn't on his side. Not by her own will, at last. "We kill them all."

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, a calm settled over the walls of Alexandria. The air grew cooler, carrying with it a sense of relief after another day of tension. The day had been long. But now, in this quiet moment, Charlie and Daryl found solace in each other's presence. He leaned back against the bed, while Charlie nestled herself closer, feeling the warmth of his presence. They didn't need to speak at first; the silence between them was comfortable, a shared understanding that words weren't always necessary.

"I feel as if today lasted ten years."

Daryl chuckled.

"I'm glad you're here, Daryl. With me."

He turned to look at her, his blue eyes meeting her gaze. "Always gonna be here, Charlie. Ain't going nowhere."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Good. Because I don't think I could do this alone...Not anymore."

They lapsed into silence again, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Charlie leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder, closing her eyes briefly. "Do you ever think about what it would be like if it all was suddenly gone?" she murmured.

"No."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"We have bigger troubles now," he answered.

"Hmm."

Charlie's mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last. She felt a tightening in her chest, the weight of fear pressing down on her. She nestled closer, resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a calming rhythm that began to ease her anxiety.

"You've been quiet," he remarked. "What's on your mind?"

"What if everything gets worse?"

"It always might get worse."

"But now it feels as if we're asking for it."

"Don't worry," he said, closing his eyes. "I'll watch your back."

"You're good at it."

Daryl chuckled, sensing the double meaning in her words.

He thought about the rare moments of laughter they shared, the bond that had grown between them. In a world filled with so much darkness, Charlie was a beacon of light, and he was determined to protect her at all costs. He tightened his hold on her, his mind settling into a quiet contentment.

With fingers tangled in her hair, and a thought of her, he fell asleep.

Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air. Charlie stirred, blinking awake. She sat up, stretching the sleep from her limbs and glancing over at Daryl, who was still asleep beside her. Carefully, she stood and made her way down to the kitchen. The wooden stairs creaked softly under her feet as she descended, the smell of cooking drawing her toward the kitchen. As she stepped into the warm, sunlit kitchen, she found Carol busy at the stove, her hands deftly moving as she prepared breakfast.

"Hey," Charlie smiled. The woman was deep in her own thoughts, so her sudden voice made her jump.

"Hello, Sweet Thing," she forced smile on her lips. "Hungry?"

"No. I don't think I'll swallow anything," Charlie said and walked closer. "Carol."

"Hmm?"

"Could you help with my hair?"

They moved to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow on the worn furniture. Carol settled on the couch and patted the space in front of her. Charlie sat down on the floor, her back to Carol, and handed her a hairbrush. As the older woman began to brush Charlie's hair, the repetitive motion was soothing her nerves. Charlie closed her eyes, letting herself relax under the gentle touch.

"You used to do that a lot in the past," Charlie smiled, feeling Carol's fingers working fast.

"Sophia never had hair like that," she said. "Always keeping it short."

"I remember," Charlie nodded lightly, remembering the little girl. In her mind, Sophia was still a little girl, but she would be a teenager now, probably around fourteen or fifteen - like Carl. She pictured her with the same kind, intelligent eyes. Her hair, likely a dark blonde, would fall in waves, maybe even with a few braids like the one Carol had just done for her. "I miss the quarry."

"Really?" Carol raised her eyebrows.

"Things seemed simpler then. I wish I could just go back and tell myself what I know now."

"What do you mean?"

"Rick and Michonne," Charlie said out of nowhere. "Do you know when it started?"

"Maybe when we were apart?"

"Yeah...Maybe," she sighed. "What I mean is that things were simpler at the beginning. All we had to worry about were the Walkers. But we were together," she sighed. "Now we have to worry about those people, Hilltop, Saviors...And I don't even remember when I saw all of you. Together."

"We're together," Carol argued.

"We live next to each other," Charlie corrected. "But we're not together anymore."

Carol stood still, the words sinking in. Looking back in time, she saw the small group of people working together, the shared meals, and the nights spent around the fire.

"Oh, Sweet Thing."

She thought back to the early days, when their group had been smaller, more intimate. They had leaned on each other for everything, their bond forged in the fires of constant danger and loss. But as time had passed, as they had settled into a routine, something had shifted.

"Can I ask you a question?" Charlie asked after a rather long moment of silence.

"Sure."

"Why are you calling me Sweet Thing?"

"Well...Because from the very beginning you were so sweet to me," Carol explained. "You were taking care of Sophia. And then of me..."

Charlie froze in her spot. Her heart sank in her chest, knowing so well that being sweet was never her intention. At the beginning, since four men were pointing their guns at her, everything was a strategy. She was helping them, smiling at everyone, but in her head she was judging every single person, Carol included. "I've never been sweet," she answered. "I was trying to survive. And by being an awful person to you...All of you would have made me leave."

"Charlie..."

"No, really," she shook her head. "I've always been a bad person. I...Sometimes I think that me losing my family, or that everyone I care about dies, or my mental condition is just karma."

Carol's heart ached at the raw pain in Charlie's voice. She looked at her friend, seeing not the flaws Charlie saw in herself, but the strength and resilience that had kept her going through unimaginable hardship. She stepped closer, her expression softening.

"I think I never told you this...I love you, Sweet Thing." Carol leaned in and wrapped her hands around the younger woman. "You're not a bad person, Charlie. You're one of the strongest, most caring people I know. We all have our demons, but that doesn't make us bad."

Charlie felt the weight of Carol's words settle into her heart, a warmth spreading through her chest. "I don't feel strong," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Most days, I feel like I'm barely holding on."

"It's okay to feel that way," Carol's voice broke. "Just remember you're not alone."

In Carol's embrace, Charlie could almost imagine that she was a child again, seeking comfort and reassurance from her mother. The warmth and security she felt were unlike anything she had experienced in a long time. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but they were tears of release, of letting go of the burden she had carried for so long.

The air was crisp, filled with the promise of a new day, yet the tension among the group was palpable. Today was the day they would confront the Saviors. The convoy of vehicles rumbled down the dirt road, dust kicking up in their wake. The forest next to the road was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird. She walked over to where Andy stood, her heart heavy with the weight of what was to come.

"You don't have to do this," Charlie said.

She understood the importance of showing unity and giving everyone a chance. Andy had shown promise during training, but he lacked the experience and composure that seasoned members of the group possessed. This mission required precision, focus, and a deep understanding of the stakes. Charlie worried that Andy's inexperience could jeopardize everything.

And what's more important that he would end up dead.

"I know," Andy nodded. "But I want to prove my worth."

"Andy, you better find a different way of proving whatever you need to prove and leave this thing to experienced people."

"I have to do this," he argued. "Even Carl is better than me. A teenager with one eye," Andy said nervously, but calmed himself as he met Charlie's warning glance. "Look, I have to be here. Even the priest is here."

"Which isn't a good omen, too." Charlie mumbled under her breath, stabbing Gabe in the face...just in her mind, of course.

Gabe caught her whispered words. He turned to her, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I've been called worse omens, Charlie," he said, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "But last I checked, divine intervention wasn't something to scoff at in times like these."

"There's no turning back now." she rolled her eyes at his witty comment.

"I could walk. Maybe run a little, maybe a lot. I'm not going anywhere. Your people taught me for a reason."

"Yeah, for a reason unknown to me," Charlie scoffed and passed him, hearing Andy's fast steps behind.

"I don't get it," he said. "Why do you hate him so much."

Charlie's mind whirred at the question. She hadn't really thought deeply about her animosity toward Gabe. It had always been there, a simmering undercurrent of irritation and mistrust. She searched her feelings, trying to pinpoint the root of her resentment. Was it his unwavering faith that seemed naïve in such a brutal world? Or perhaps it was his calm demeanor, which she found frustrating in the face of constant danger?

Maybe it's because he represents something she felt she had lost. Hope. Faith. Things buried under layers of survival instincts. But none of that was something she was ready to unpack, especially not now. "I just do," she shrugged. "Now, stop thinking about him, and focus."

"I am focused."

"I'm serious, Andy," she said, realizing how his small smile was annoying her, as if it was some kind of game for him. In the face of danger, Charlie realized how close she got to the young man and how sue cared about him.

"I know," he nodded his head. "We got this."

Charlie caught sight of Maggie behind him, her strong yet weary figure standing out among the others. The sight of her brought a rush of conflicting emotions. She had insisted on coming, despite the dangers. She was resolute, driven by the same need for justice and retribution that fueled them all. But seeing her there, so close to the impending conflict, made Charlie's protective instincts flare.

She found herself beside Glenn in no time, his face etched with worry but his resolve unbroken. She couldn't hold back her concern any longer.

"You asked me to protect her, Glenn," Charlie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And now you risk her life?"

Glenn turned to her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his inner turmoil. "It's not up to me, Charlie," he replied, a note of sadness in his voice. "You know her. Once Maggie sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her."

Charlie clenched her jaw, struggling to accept the truth in Glenn's words. Maggie was strong, resilient, and fiercely independent. She had every right to fight alongside them, but that didn't make it any easier to watch her step into danger. "I get it, Glenn. But sometimes you need to step up and be a man."

His eyes hardened, and he took a step closer to her, lowering his voice so the others wouldn't hear. "Do you think I don't care? Do you think I don't worry about her every second? This isn't about being a man or not. This is about respecting her."

"So, what?" Charlie glared at him. "You just let her walk into danger because you're too afraid to stand up to her?"

"She's not a child; she's a survivor, just like the rest of us," he answered. "I know you're scared," Glenn's voice softened. "Trust me, we all are."

"But what if anything happens to her..."

"Nothing will," Glenn interrupted, a fierce determination in his eyes. "Because we're going to do everything in our power to protect each other. All of us."

Charlie nodded, feeling the last of her frustration melt away, but not entirely. She knew Glenn was right. They needed to be united, now more than ever.

Their attention was suddenly captured by Rick, who had stepped forward, his face set with grim determination. He raised a hand, signaling for everyone to gather around. The murmur of voices ceased as the group fell silent, eyes fixed on their leader.

"We're gonna take a look around, try to get a feel for how many people are in there." said Rick. "We like how it looks, we go in. A couple hours before dawn. The guards outside'll be tired. Everyone inside'll be sleeping," he explained a one way. "We don't like what we see, we head back, make a new plan," he said. "They don't know who we are. We'll keep Jesus in the shadows. This is how we eat."

As the group began to disperse to their positions, Charlie approached Rick, her mind racing with concerns. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, looking at the man who was immersed in his thoughts.

"I don't want Maggie here," Charlie said sternly, even though Rick wasn't looking at her.

"She's guarding the perimeter," he answered, still not giving her a glance.

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "She's pregnant."

"It's her choice."

She couldn't believe Rick was so dismissive of her concerns. How could he put Maggie in such a dangerous position? It felt reckless and irresponsible.

First Glenn and then Rick.

Men - Charlie rolled her eyes.

"She's with a child, it's no longer her choice."

Rick finally turned to face Charlie, his eyes meeting hers directly. There was a flicker of something in his gaze - maybe understatement or maybe she annoyed him."I want to stay with her," Charlie insisted, her voice steady even as Rick scrutinized her. "And Andy will be with us."

Rick's face tightened with resolve. "Well, this whole thing's a race to the armory," he said. "We need as many people inside as we can get."

"You have just enough people," Charlie shrugged, pointing her head in the direction of the group. "I made a promise to keep an eye on her."

"Did Carol and Andy make that promise too? I had a very similar talk with her earlier." Rick tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Charlie's heart sank. If Carol was voicing concerns, it meant she wasn't alone in her worries. "Very well. Even Carol is concerned, so that should tell you a lot."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of their unspoken words hanging in the air. Rick's expression softened slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "You don't talk to me, Charlie," he said quietly. "It's been weeks since we've really talked. You said you were sorry for doubting me, and here we are," he sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "What happened to you? You used to be my biggest ally."

Her thoughts raced. She remembered the early days of their journey, how she had always stood by Rick, trusted his decisions, even when they were difficult. But things had changed. The constant danger, the endless battles, it had all taken a toll.

"This thing? It's not the same as before," she said after a while, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "I don't see... I can't find a point in this," she shrugged, struggling to put her feelings into words. "And I don't want to ever make a choice who to save, a baby or its mother."

Her last words hit Rick hard. She could see the pain in his eyes, the conflict. It was the truth, and he knew it. The weight of their decisions, the moral dilemmas they faced every day—it was tearing them apart. Rick took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"I'm staying with Maggie," Charlie said firmly.

Rick looked at her for a long moment, the silence between them thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But Andy goes with us."

The night had settled around them, casting the forest in deep shadows. Charlie, Carol, and Maggie crouched near the Savior's base, their breaths quiet and steady. The cool night air wrapped around them, the sounds of the forest a backdrop to their tense vigil.

Charlie's thoughts drifted to Andy. She had been annoyed by his presence, questioning his readiness and his place in their mission. She agreed on him going here, because she thought he'll be near her. The only reassurance was the thought that Daryl promised to keep an eye on him. He had a way of taking care of people, of bringing out their strengths. If anyone could guide Andy through this, it was him. She hoped that Andy would rise to the occasion, proving her doubts wrong.

Charlie glanced at Carol, whose usual calm demeanor seemed strained. Her eyes were darting around more than usual, and her breathing was just a bit too quick. Charlie's instincts flared; something was wrong.

Her eyes met Charlie's again, and she offered a reassuring nod, even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange of concern and determination.

Then, the sharp, piercing sound of an alarm shattered the silence.

Charlie's heart sank, a wave of dread washing over her. Her mind immediately jumped to Daryl, Andy, and Glenn. Were they safe? Had something gone wrong?

She felt a surge of fear and panic, her thoughts racing. The alarm meant the Saviors were alerted, and everything was about to get much more dangerous. She couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone, especially not the people she cared about most.

"They're in trouble," Carol said urgently as she started moving, giving an order to Charlie. "Stay here with Maggie."

"What?" Charlie began to follow Carol, her heart pounding with worry. She heard another pair of footsteps behind her.

"I'm going with you," both Maggie and Charlie said in unison.

"I said stay here!" Carol snapped, frustration evident in her voice.

"No!" Charlie retorted, her determination unwavering.

"Damn it!" Carol cursed under her breath.

"I have to!" Charlie argued, reaching out to pull Carol's arm.

"No, you don't!" Carol insisted. "Both of you, stay here."

"Yes, I do," Maggie interjected, pushing Charlie to the side with unexpected strength.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Carol asked, the question burning in everyone's mind.

Maggie furrowed her eyebrows, defiant. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to be someone else!" Carol's voice was harsh, the weight of their situation pressing down on her.

Before anyone could respond, the alarm blared again, louder and more urgent. The noise was a constant reminder of the danger closing in on them.

"They need our help," Maggie said, her voice resolute.

A low growling noise broke through the alarm. Charlie turned swiftly, her knife already in her hand, and plunged it into the head of a walker that had crept up on them. She wiped the blood off her blade, her heart racing.

"You're staying here," Carol commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "With Charlie."

As Carol looked at Maggie, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she took out her gun. Before she could react, Charlie had already fired, hitting a man but only managing to wound his arm.

"Maggie, don't," Charlie warned, her voice tense, when she saw her walking to the wounded man.

"Let's go!" Carol urged, ready to move.

"Not unless it's done," Maggie said through gritted teeth, her gun trained on the wounded man.

Suddenly, Charlie felt a cold metal barrel press against the back of her head. A click echoed in the air, sending a shiver down her spine. "Stop!" a woman's voice commanded. "Or they are both dead!"

Carol, Charlie, and Maggie froze, their breaths hitching in unison. The woman, her eyes cold and calculating, held her gun firmly against hers and Carol's heads. Charlie's eyes darted to the side, where she saw two other women, each armed and ready to shoot.

"Guns, knives on the ground, right now," the woman with ginger hair ordered, her voice brooking no defiance.

Carol glanced at Charlie, a silent exchange passing between them. Reluctantly, they began to lower their weapons, placing them on the ground slowly. "Do it," Carol whispered, her voice strained but calm. "We need to stay alive."

Charlie nodded, her heart pounding as she followed Carol's lead. Maggie hesitated, her eyes blazing with defiance, but she too began to lower her gun.

"Good," the woman said, a twisted smile on her face. "Now, stand back."

Charlie's mind raced, looking for a way out of this. The alarm continued to wail, its relentless noise making it hard to think clearly. She glanced at Carol, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. They needed a plan, and fast.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl twd #daryl x reader

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asimplearchivist · 1 year

Text

ℂℍ. 𝕀 — 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕥

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🗡 ⤏ cade yeager’s older sister never knows what she’ll find in their barn upon returning from her routine antiquing trips—the submission box at the driveway is often littered with junk of all kinds that they try to fix for a living. ⤏ you just never would have expected for him to take on the task of repairing a cybertronian. pairing 🗡 bayverse!optimus prime/yeager!reader word count 🗡 8.7k a/n 🗡⤏ i've been cleaning out my docs drafts debating on whether to upload certain unfinished works, seeing as some of them are partially complete (like this one). this was going to be a longfic that followed the events of aoe and would go on to tlk, but i lost steam for it pretty early on. there are a few more snippets that wouldn't stand well enough on their own to be posted, but i thought these three chapters would express the vibes i was attempting to convey. ⤏ this is an aoe ua where lucas didn't call the government about optimus right away, cemetery wind didn't find him immediately, and cade has an older sister by one year. the reader is ex-military and protective by nature, and not one to be trifled with - especially in regards to her family, as she would gladly sacrifice her life for theirs. she suffers from a psychosomatic limp in her right leg after sustaining a gunshot to her left shoulder while serving in afghanistan years prior. still suffering from ptsd, she's turned to exercise and bodybuilding as an outlet. she spends her time and makes money restoring antiques and furniture and occasionally collaborating with cade on his robotics. ⤏ this is kind of silly looking back on it (also not as well written, seeing as i created it back in 2017 [oh my god that was six years ago]), but i've promised myself i would try to work against my internal criticism and not cringe at something i spent a lot of time and love to make. i saw a few posts on tumblr floating around about posting old drafts and i thought i might do that with this, among others, so keep your eyes peeled for those.⤏ let me know if you see any glaring grammatical mistakes/spelling errors i missed, but more importantly, please enjoy this gem of my past! :)🗡 MASTERPOST 🗡 🗡 ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🗡

Tessa woke dreamily, a pleasantly warm haze dampening her thoughts as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Shimmering sunlight streamed in through the window, lighting up her room and causing motes of dust floating in the air to gleam like tiny flecks of gold. She stretched slowly, enjoying the feeling of tension releasing in her muscles. She smiled when she remembered that finals were over. She was free. (Until she went to college, that is. If she went to college.)

Though with the bliss of waking up to a quiet morning, she realized that it was actually quite out of place. It was suspiciously quiet. There wasn't any shouting from the landlord trying to sell the house again, or explosions coming from the barn. It was awfully peaceful, and Tessa really didn't know how to feel about it. It was only when she closed her eyes in contemplation of dozing off again that she remembered.

They had a transformer in the barn.

"Dad," she groaned, rubbing at her face and sitting up slowly.

A week had passed since Cade Yeager had unknowingly brought home a wanted, illegal alien (a literal alien, funnily enough) in an attempt to dismantle it for salable parts. But of course - of course it had to have been her dad. It couldn't have been anyone else's, because that's just what her life was: hectic and chock-full of crazy shit. So why not add housing an Autobot to the list?

She still couldn't believe her dad had managed to talk both her and Lucas down from making a call to the government about their accidental find. She didn't know how he did it - but he'd kept haggling and nagging and pushing until they'd acquiesced, and now they had a half-destroyed thirty-foot robot living in their barn.

Tessa couldn't say that she disliked Optimus, however - on the contrary, she was rather intrigued by him. He was very benevolent and soft-spoken (only did this show after their initial scare - Lucas wouldn't step close to the 'Bot for a solid two days afterward), and his voice never failed to soothe her with its otherworldly rumble. He was quiet, though, and didn't talk much - at least around her. Her dad said that he spoke with him very frequently, usually while he was repairing or constructing a makeshift part for the injured Autobot, and that entailed them being alone.

Cade had told her, the first night after he’d convinced her and Lucas not to call in the government, that he intended to let Optimus stay there for as long as he needed - until Cade could get him back into fighting shape, at the very least. It was wrong, what the government was doing to the Autobots - hunting them down like animals - and Cade sympathized greatly. Tessa admitted that she did, too, now that she knew the government wasn't actually targeting just Decepticons, but she was scared of the repercussions that it could potentially have on her family. Her father had assured her that nothing was going to happen to them, and that helping Optimus was the best thing that they could do right then. And he was already getting better info on robotics, just by looking at the 'Bot's inner mechanisms - not to mention that the Cybertronian made the continuous effort to answer any sort of question that Cade asked him. It was benefiting them already, he'd said. Tessa had sighed softly, pushing the tray of already lukewarm dinner into her father's hands before returning to the safety of their room.

Needless to say, Tessa made sure to give them both ample space. She would rather not have another missile ricochet through the house.

Tessa yawned, stood, and trudged into her bathroom, already resigning herself to cooking breakfast (again). She figured that the typical eggs and bacon would suffice - she just sincerely hoped that her dad hadn't pulled another all-nighter. Optimus had urged the stubborn human male to rest accordingly before, so maybe he'd done the same the previous night. She'd noticed that her dad was starting to get dark circles under his eyes.

After taking a soothingly hot shower and dressing for the day, she wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. It was methodical, routine, how she went about cooking the eggs and frying the bacon to her dad’s taste. Soon the savory smells were wafting from the stove, and when she heard the dull thumps of heavy, uneven footsteps descending the staircase she breathed out a sigh of relief. Cade shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes and tugging the hem of his shirt down over his stomach. His hair was mussed, his movements stiff, and Tessa lamented her lack of foresight in not setting up the coffee pot beforehand.

"Morning, Dad," she said, flipping the bacon as it sizzled and hissed up at her. He mumbled something that could have potentially been English, trudging over to the fridge to pop the door open and draw a glass bottle of soda from its depths. He twisted the cap off, tossing it haphazardly towards the trashcan tucked into the corner of the kitchen (and effectively missing it by a long shot) before sinking into the chair already pulled out from beneath the table. His head fell into his hand, his shoulders slumping as he mumbled under his breath.

He was tired.

"How late did you stay up last night?" she asked him, transferring the now crisp bacon over onto the plate already loaded with heavily salted and peppered eggs. She moved over to him, setting it down in front of him before shuffling back to grab him a fork from the drawer.

Cade, obviously still submerged in a half-catatonic state, made the mistake of plucking up a strip of bacon. He jolted up, hissing and cussing as he swiped his fingertips against his pajama pants. Tessa gave him a scolding look, handing him a fork.

Cade sighed, taking it. "Eleven...?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, cocking her hip and planting a fist above it.

He averted his gaze guiltily, looking entirely like the man-child he was. "...Maybe closer to two. Or three. Or was it three thirty...?"

"Dad," she groaned, tugging at her hair in frustration. "Nothing good is going to come out of this if you work yourself into the ground! Optimus doesn't need to be repaired in the span of four nights-"

"Tessa - honey, you don't understand!" he interjected, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the window. "I've already been able to make three of my inventions work because of him! He's helping me build these things, and the sooner I can sell them, the sooner we can get some money rolling in."

The young blonde opened her mouth to argue further, but the genuine look in her father's eyes made her stop short. She hesitated, and he took the opportunity to stand and grasp her arms gently, drawing her into a tight, reassuring hug. She resisted but for a few seconds before sighing and giving in, wrapping her arms around him and breathing in the familiar scent of mechanical grease and sweat. Memories lingered in the back of her consciousness. This was her father, what embodied him. Comfort and grease.

How lovely.

"Tess, baby," he murmured into her hair, brushing his fingers through it slowly, "I promise this will turn out okay. Just give me a little time. Optimus is genuinely grateful for what we're doing for him, and he's trying to repay us in any way that he can." He squeezed her affectionately. "We'll get out of this soon. Everything will go back to normal."

"I sincerely doubt that," she mumbled into his shirt, though secretly she was soothed by his words. He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before they both drew away from each other. Cade returned to his seat, digging into his cooling breakfast while Tessa moved over to the coffee pot to get a fresh brew going. She knew he was going to need it, if he was going to function at all that day.

"Did Lucas get those parts you need?" Tessa asked, popping the top off of the coffee maker before grimacing. She hadn't made coffee in a week, how old were these grounds? Yuck.

"Yeah. Most of them," Cade said through a mouthful of eggs. Tessa sighed, but did not scold him. "I'll have to order some. If I can fix up that old tape recorder, I've got a buyer on Ebay. Fifty bucks."

"Hmm." Tessa tossed the old filter out, disposing the forgotten bottle cap while she was at it. She opened up the cabinet, straining on her tiptoes to reach the filters and grounds. Curse her short genes.

"Optimus says that a lot of his self-regenerating systems have kicked in now that he's out of emergency stasis-lock. Whatever that means." Cade swallowed before shoving a wad of bacon into his mouth. "But he's still looking pretty rough. I think he needs a good wash."

"But won't that make him more obvious?" she asked, filling the pot up in the sink and pouring it into the tank. "Won't the government be looking for his old paintjob? Maybe we should paint him a different color or something."

"He mentioned that he changed his vehicle mode while on the run from that ambush," he said. "Combine that with all the rust he's got, I don't think he'll be easily identifiable for a while. But, still..." He polished off the soda before sighing. "I feel bad for him. He seems to be in a lot of discomfort, and I'm pretty sure he's still in pain. He's cooped up in that barn, having to crouch or sit all the time. The guy can't even step outside for fear of satellites seeing him..."

"Maybe he can go out at night," she suggested, sympathizing greatly. Texas heat sucked sometimes, and some days in the summer you couldn't even step outside for fear of suffocating on contact. "He can stretch his legs a bit without so much fear of being seen."

Cade visibly brightened. "Good idea. I didn't think of that."

Probably because you're just running on fumes, Tessa thought wryly as she flicked on the coffee pot.

"In any case," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. She jabbed a finger at him, giving him a firm (and faintly pleading) look. "I want you in bed before midnight tonight."

Cade grinned around his fork, his eyes glittering with faint amusement. "I'll try," he said, swallowing, "but I can't make any promises."

"I'll make Optimus lock you out of the barn," she warned, knowing full well that the thirty-foot mech would most definitely agree to it. They both knew it. "Just...try, okay? Or I'll spike your dinner with melatonin, too."

Cade shuddered, cringing. "Okay, okay, chill," he said, picking up the last strip of bacon before standing with his plate and wandering over to the sink. "I'll go to sleep at midnight."

"Before midnight," she pressed.

"Before midnight," he acquiesced.

Cade washed off the plate, chewing studiously on the bacon like a tobacco addict while Tessa stepped over to the fridge and unraveled the loaf of bread. She dropped two slices into the toaster when Cade's cell phone began to ring.

He growled softly, flicking the faucet off before fumbling with his pajama pants. "It had better not be that damn..." He drew out the phone from his pocket, squinting at the name before the blood drained from his face.

Tessa's face creased in immediate concern. "What? Who is it?"

Cade's trembling thumb slid across the screen before he lifted it to his ear. "Heeyyy, sis..."

Tessa felt her blood run cold, a thrum of nervousness welling up in her stomach. Cade cast her an anxious glance before rubbing at the back of his head. "I'm fine. Tessa's fine...wait, you found a what? That's awesome!"

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as it died just as quickly as it had come when Tessa gave him a sour, pointed look. "Uh, yeah...Tessa finished up her finals. Yeah. No, I haven't finished that...you found a part for it? Nice." He fidgeted where he stood, leaning against the counter and rubbing at his mouth. "Listen, we've, uh...I made a big buy here a few days ago...no, it wasn't...okay. I, uh..." He grimaced, his teeth bared as he ran his fingers through his hair. "How long's it going to be 'til you get here?" He paused, listening intently, before the barest iota of relief relaxed the muscles in his shoulders. "Okay. This evening? Later? All right...yeah, see you then. Love you, too. Bye."

The second he lowered the phone from his ear and ended the call, he let out a prolonged, hissing curse through his teeth. Tessa worried her lower lip between her teeth, waiting for the ball to drop. Cade sank back against the cabinetry, his head hitting the upper section with a dull thunk. "We're screwed. I completely forgot about..." He shook his head slowly. "She's coming back tonight, maybe around seven. We've got to hide Optimus somehow."

Tessa stared at him incredulously. "How? He's a thirty-foot robot!" she hissed at him. "She practically lives in the barn, and that's the only place he can hide! She'll sniff him out in minutes!"

"I know that," Cade pressed, shoving the phone back into his pocket so he could scrape his hands down his face. "But she'll kill me when she finds out-"

"What, that you accidentally bought a literal illegal alien and now you’re trying to fix him?!" she cried exasperatedly. "Of course she's going to kill you!"

"We can't tell her," he insisted. "She's ex-military. Who knows how she'll react when she finds out we've got a Cybertronian in the barn."

"We can't keep it from her," she protested. "Even if we do manage to hide him at first, she'll find him eventually. She spends as much time in there as you do, if not more - which is stupid," she muttered. "And you'll have to continue repairs on him eventually."

Cade sighed resignedly, dropping his face into his hands. "At least make spaghetti for her," he mumbled, voice muffled. "The most we can do is butter her up before we tell her. I...I need at least tonight, so I can think about how I'm going to tell her."

Tessa stared at him for a long moment, but the tense silence that threatened to fall was broken by the toaster popping. At least that was one device in the house that Cade hadn't tampered with.

"Don't worry about it," Tessa told him, trying to offer some relief to his nervousness. "I'm sure once you explain everything to her, she'll understand. Like you said, he's helping out a lot with your robotics, so it's not a completely fruitless endeavor. And, once he's fixed up and leaves, we can call the government and point them in the opposite direction. That way we'll get the money but we'll throw them off his trail."

Cade looked up at her, a slow smile tugging the corners of his mouth apart. "I love you," he cooed. "You're smart like your mother."

Tessa flushed, turning to she could both pluck her toast out of the toaster and hide the smile that split her face in two.

It turned out to be a terribly hot day, as was typical of an early Texas summer. The only respite against the blazing sun was the industrial-sized fan humming near the barn door and the tin roofing reflecting most of the sun's oppressive heat. Sunlight streamed in from between the wood paneling and the opened loft window, providing enough illumination to cast dark shadows against the interior of the barn not under its direct assault. But, despite the dust and rust and grime clinging to his plating, the few unmarred spots of Optimus' armor gleamed.

Cade swiped an arm over his forehead, the beads of sweat and friction serving to wipe away at least some of the grime that had collected there. He had half the mind to take off his shirt, soaked and sticking to him in all the wrong places. He felt about as dirty as he probably looked. Even still, he doubted that Optimus would appreciate seeing a half-naked human - especially a half-naked human that was as dirty and unkempt as Cade knew he was. Or maybe the mech wouldn't care at all. Either way, he wasn't going to risk it, particularly since he was working with hot metal. He'd experienced the repercussions of that before and it had been no bueno.

Hefting the heavy-weighted hammer and setting the rounded metal casing against the molding sphere, he tapped out an angle that had been too sharp. The shift and scrape of metal on concrete almost made him flinch, but the movement in his peripheral reminded him of the barn's other occupant. Optimus was clearly uncomfortable, hunched over and grimacing every time he jostled one of the chains hanging from the ceiling or bumped against the scaffolding Cade had set up so he could reach his chassis. It had struck Cade how clearly he could read the mech's expressions - he was certainly human-like, despite the vastly differing components that made up the Cybertronian's faceplate.

"You took a hell of a hit, you know," he said, squinting at the casing with a merciless eye before wandering over to the standing cutting torch. "The missile just missed your power source."

The massive mech blinked, tilting his helm slightly, before he glanced down to the exposed internal workings within his chassis. His spark flickered erratically, casting an eerie glow against the dim shadows within the barn. "We call it a spark," he responded softly. "It contains our life force...and our memories."

Cade stilled, staring up at him in surprise. He hadn't thought... "Yeah...we call it a soul."

Optimus ex-vented slowly, his optics flicking away. He absently scratched at part of his pectoral plating, rolling his shoulders slowly. Cade inwardly winced at the metallic grating noise, trying to remember if he had some car grease. Yeah...add that to the growing list of things he was going to have to fix.

God, this guy was a mess.

Optimus grimaced suddenly, glancing down at his armor and plucking at a sizable shell casing embedded in the rusted, peeling metal. He tugged it free, staring down at it rather apathetically before flicking it away. Cade heard it bounce off the side of something somewhere to his right with a sharp cling. "Cade..." The Autobot hesitated, blinking as his optics shuttered, making the mechanic wonder if it indicated deep thought. "...why are you willing to help me?"

Cade paused, fiddling with the nozzle of the blow torch. "I guess maybe because you trust me to," he mused, leaning back as the torch roared to life and illuminated everything around him in a flaring orange glow. He quickly popped the welding mask down over his face, adjusting his grip on the round casing before bathing it in the spurting flame. Optimus watched his actions in rapt attention, seeming to absorb the human's reply.

When the metal was glowing as orange as the flames that were heating it, Cade shut off the torch and trotted back over to the ball bearing before pounding out more angles. He eyed it one last time before trotting over to the barrel of oil he'd had for years, dipping it in gingerly and being wary of the flames that flared and licked up at his hands. He then doused it in the barrel of water he'd set up next to it, turning his face away from the steam that hissed and shot up into the air. When he lifted the mask again to admire his handiwork, Optimus leaned over slightly as though to look at it, too.

"It look okay?" Cade asked while popping the mask back up onto his head, turning and walking up to the massive 'Bot so he could inspect it. The Prime nodded and reached out with an open servo, taking the casing before slowly and carefully fitting it around the flickering blue light within the depths of his chassis. He let out a heavy gush of hot air that ruffled Cade's oily hair, not quite a sigh of what must've been relief but probably the closest thing he could come to it.

"Thank you, Cade," he murmured sincerely. His shoulders slumped as though he finally had the chance to relax. Cade supposed he would, too, had the physical manifestation of his soul been so exposed for so long - and around strangers, no less.

Around strangers who were the same species as those who had made him wary of them in the first place.

"Hey, Optimus," Cade began tentatively, drawing out his syllables as he tried to conjure up the right words to inform the Autobot of their growing predicament. He didn't really know how he was going to react. "I've...got some good news and some bad news."

This seemed to set the mech on his guard, as his shoulders drew up again subtly with a tenseness that Cade suddenly regretted inciting in him. His optics shuttered, narrowed, and focused wholly on Cade, quiet and waiting. Of course, the moment he'd finally had a chance to relax, Cade had to go and ruin it.

The inventor sighed, pulling the mask from his head and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Good news is my sister is coming back." He looked back up to Optimus. "The bad news is that my sister's coming back."

Optimus shifted restlessly, optics flickering rapidly between extreme dimness and flaring brightness. "Is she one that could pose potential danger?"

"Not really - at least, I don't think so," Cade added hurriedly. "I just...I don't know how she's going to react to...this." He gestured towards Optimus vaguely, for lack of a better word. Or any word, for that matter. "She's ex-military, and I know you guys worked with them for a long time. I don't think she ever worked with the Autobots, though, since she was discharged before the first attack in Qatar, but..."

Optimus stilled, tilting his helm slightly. "Do you wish me to tell her the circumstances of how I arrived here?"

"No - no, it's fine," Cade responded, "I can handle it. I've just...I've been trying to figure out how to tell her."

"Tell her the truth," Optimus said simply, gently. "That is was an accident. It was most definitely not your fault." He paused. "If she should wish me to leave, then I will be on my way. I do not wish to cause dissonance within your family."

It's a bit late for that, he thought wryly, but didn't voice it. "Optimus, we've been through this - I want to help you. I want to help you get back on your feet, if nothing else - it's just not fair how these guys are chasing you around like you're some wild dog." He frowned, anger beginning to simmer low in his gut. "I think she'll understand."

...At least, I hope she will.

Dear God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, it was good to be home.

You pulled off of the interstate onto the highway branching off and directing you closer to your destination. You hummed softly along with the radio playing just over the rumble of your tires rolling over the pavement. Your arm was probably well sunburned by this point, having laid across the open windowsill for five days straight. The wind tugged at your tightly-bound hair, warm and dry as the sun brushed the edge of the horizon. The scent of flat, grassy plains - the scent of home - had you finally, finally relaxed after your trip.

Finding fixer-uppers for Cade and yourself to restore proved to be something you'd long ago gotten into the habit of doing - every three weeks you'd pack up your truck and trailer and drive around your proud home state in search of potential quarry. Scholarship opportunities for Tessa, as well as acceptable colleges, had recently been added to your list. None particularly met your standard, but...it was your niece in question, and you had always been protective of Tessa. Perhaps more so than Cade, in your mind. Maybe it was a Yeager trait.

You breathed out a sigh as you slipped your sunglasses off the top of your head and over your eyes. The sunset was certainly a sight - vivid oranges and reds melting together like a forge, blazing just as hot. You couldn't wait to take a long, hot shower and sleep in your own bed - cheap inns and motels be damned to the seventh circle of Dante's hell, honestly.

Paris, Texas welcomed you soon enough. There were a few people lingering in the streets or stores, but it was quiet for the most part. You waved towards a few acquaintances as you drove by, feeling relieved excitement bubbling up in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to home. You couldn't wait to work with Cade on some of the things you'd found in your brief travel. You'd even bought a couple of things for Tessa that you could freshen up and give her for her college dorm as a going-away present.

God, you were going to miss her. But...it would be nice to have the house to Cade and yourself again. Just like the good old days.

A flush of warm contentment washed over you when you pulled onto the familiar old farm road, dust swelling up from your tires and rising up in a thick cloud behind your trailer. You slowed down as you approached the rickety old mailbox and the metal crate welded beneath it, turning in slowly. You stopped when you saw that the electrical lines were crossed.

Oh, boy...maybe you shouldn't have gone on this last trip.

It seemed that your arrival was well anticipated. The robotic mut you and Cade had built what seemed to be forever ago was already whirling around in circles, yapping on and on about voice recognition and dialing nine-one-one. You could've sworn you'd fixed that. Cade was standing on the front porch, arms folded over his chest and fingers drumming against his arm.

He was nervous. What the hell did he do this time?

Parking and disengaging the engine, you grabbed your duffel and purse out of the passenger's seat before sliding out of the truck. Cade stepped down from the porch to take them, to which you waved him off and instead pulled him into a tight hug. The strong, familiar scent of motor oil and grease filled your nose. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he said, arms resting on your back. He rested his cheek against the crown of your head, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Drive back was okay?"

"Yeah. Didn't shoot anyone."

"Always a good thing." He pulled back, grinning and grasping your arms gently. "Tessa made spaghetti."

Your hunger, now making itself apparent in the way your stomach twisted and growled irritably, predominated your rising suspicion. "Praise God. I've had enough McDonald's to last me three lifetimes."

Your brother's warm laugh, more relaxed than his tense body language had been moments before, followed you into the house as you both went inside. The hearty smell of the Yeager family spaghetti sauce filled your nostrils and your mouth watered immediately, the tension draining from your limbs as you cast a glance back at Cade. "Let me go put this up real quick," you told him, trotting up the stairs. You heard him acknowledge you with a grunt as he turned into the kitchen.

The upper floor was dark and quiet, and it allowed you to breathe in the scent of home as you made a beeline for your room. You entered, tossing both bags onto your bed and making a flying trip to the bathroom to relieve yourself. You made quick work of washing your hands, simply wiping off the warm water on your jeans as you descended the stairs. You heard Cade's voice before you got to the doorway leading to the kitchen, the urgent, low tones initially obscuring Tessa's lighter whispers. Your suspicion returned, but you couldn't make out what they were saying because of the music playing softly from the radio.

You really hoped they hadn't broken something they shouldn't have. Didn't matter if it was a law or piece of equipment - if Lucas had been messing with your punching bag again, you'd be wringing his skinny little neck soon enough.

You made a show of yawning, stretching your arms over your head as you clomped around the corner. Cade turned to you, holding a pitcher of tea in one hand and a glass of ice in the other.

"I'm assuming you wanted tea," he said.

"Yeah, that's fine," you said, taking the glass after he filled it and sitting at the table. Tessa was distributing spaghetti on three different plates, as well as corn and salad. She set it in front of you with a swift one-armed hug around your shoulders, which you readily returned. "Heard about your finals. Good job, kiddo."

"Thanks!" she said, smiling and practically oozing pride in light of your praise. She meandered over to the oven, popping it open and grabbing an oven mitt to draw out a tray of garlic bread. "Want one?"

"Yes, please," you breathed, plucking one from the tray when she proffered it to you before dropping it on the edge of your plate to save your fingertips from the hot sting.

Cade plopped down in the seat across from you, reclining back and exhaling deeply. He rubbed at the dark circles beneath his eyes. You squinted at him, about to ask if he had been staying up late again, when Tessa, too, sat to your left.

"Pray?" she said, glancing between the two of you. You nodded, and all three of you bowed your heads so you could utter a brief prayer of thanks. Afterwards, you scooped a generous forkful of spaghetti into your mouth, practically melting in your chair as the warmth and flavor blossomed over your tongue.

"Oh my god, Tessa, never change," you told her firmly after swallowing. She flushed, hiding her smile behind her glass as she sipped lightly.

"How was the trip?" Cade asked, tearing the slice of garlic bread apart and stuffing a chunk past his lips.

"Good, for the most part," you said, reaching for the salad dressing to drizzle it over the chopped lettuce and tomatoes. "Got a few things that I can fix up pretty quick. Joe Anderson's been nagging me for a table for three months now. I think it's Amy's birthday soon and he's looking for something to give her."

Cade breathed out a sigh of relief. "I've almost got a couple of doohickeys fixed. Got a couple of buyers on Ebay. I think I'll be able to pay the electric bill with them."

You looked up at him, your chewing slowing to a stop. "Is that why we're borrowing the neighbor's electricity?"

Both Cade and Tessa stilled, exchanging a hesitant glance. The nervousness in the air was palpable.

"Is that what's going on?" you asked, voice simultaneously firm yet gentle. "You've been acting weird. Were you not wanting to tell me?"

You didn't miss the very pointed look that Tessa directed at her father.

"I thought I shouldn't have gone on this trip," you muttered. "I'll try to get that table done tomorrow. The sooner we can pay it, the better."

Cade shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing at his neck anxiously. "That's...not what I wanted to tell you."

You raised a brow. "Is it about that 'big buy' you made?"

"I...yes," he replied hesitantly. "It's a truck."

You blinked. "A truck."

"Yes - an old truck. A semi. A cabover. I was planning on dismantling the engine for parts to sell."

"Planning on it?" you asked curiously.

"Yeah. I...ran into some...trouble with it." He straightened, fiddled with his fork. "You'll have to see it for yourself."

"If all you needed was help on it, all you had to do was ask," you told him gently. "But we'll start on that in the morning. I'm tired. You look tired - have you been staying up late again?"

He flushed, opened his mouth perhaps to protest, but Tessa interjected with a flat expression and a strong nod.

"Sleep," you pressed firmly, "and we'll tackle it when we're both fresh. Comprende?"

"Sí," he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

"Good." You smiled, half affectionate and half exasperated. "I'll cuddle you aggressively if you don't."

"Resistance is futile," Tessa chimed in, spearing a chunk of lettuce with her fork.

You reached over and squeezed her arm with a grin, directing it at Cade. He finally met your eyes, and after a long moment he returned it, looking as tired as you'd ever seen him.

You had once been a very deep sleeper. When you were younger, back when Cade was smaller than you, he always thought something was wrong whenever he would get up in the mornings and fail to rouse you unless he were to practically scream in your ear. You slept through thunderstorms and fireworks alike, never once stirring from your oft dreamless slumber. Very rarely did you dream, even rarer did you suffer from nightmares.

Unfortunately, that was a long time ago.

After graduating from high school and enlisting your services in the marine corps, you'd quickly learned that sleeping deeply was not an asset useful to a soldier. Countless times of interrupted rest trained you to be instantly alert at the slightest of noises or potential dangers. It had served you well, the night your base in Iraq had been attacked - you'd heard the distant rumble of non-American military engines across the way and you'd saved your troop by waking and warning them just in time to escape your bunker before it was incinerated into smoke and ash.

The ambush had been long and violent. They'd come in under cover of the dunes on the far east side, near a mountain range, and had wreaked havoc on the base, killing many and injuring more. Snipers, unfortunately, were present - when you'd gone to rescue your superior officer from a burning quonset, one had nearly managed to blow your left arm out of its socket. It was only by God's grace that your squadron's medic had gotten to you in time to staunch the bleeding. Your arm barely survived, and as a result of some psychological bullshit, you now had a rather inconvenient limp in the opposite leg. Unnoticeable to you (and your family) now that you've all gotten accustomed to it and have dealt with it long enough that it wasn't as bad as it used to be. Only if you had one of your spells did it act up again.

And by 'spell', it obviously meant a full-blown anxiety attack courtesy of your PTSD, which used to be triggered by anything ranging from the sound of someone dropping a pen to having night terrors. The night terrors, in themselves, were not particularly bad - you'd gotten used to the images of blood spattered across the sand and the sounds of screams and explosions ringing in your ears, echoing over the rivulets of time and memory. No, it was the aftereffects that you hated; waking in a cold sweat, trembling all over, nausea and lightheadedness threatening to send you over the side of your bed. Over the years, however, you'd gradually recovered - returning home after being medically discharged and falling back into a semi-normal, tamer routine certainly helped. The night terrors and your spells grew fewer and farther between as the years drew on. Having Cade and Tessa as a support system helped majorly, as well.

But, as is the case with everything, there were always exceptions. Sometimes, out of nowhere, you would dream of the ambush - crying out in your sleep as a result and never failing to draw Cade into your bed to wrap you up in a tight, warm embrace. His presence, the sound of his heartbeat and his gentle murmurings and reassurances helped to calm you down, but it still frustrated you every time that it would happen. You thought you were getting better. You thought that you'd forgotten the terror and the pain. But revisitations of it were inevitable.

Tonight, it would seem, would be one of those nights.

The air was cold. The sand was cold. Your heart, heavy and lodged in your throat, was thumping painfully as you crouched low and wide-eyed in a grenade-blown pit, avoiding crossfire and the sight of the enemy. You were trembling, deep and wholesome panic thrumming through your entire body as you tried to think, tried to comprehend what was happening, tried to articulate what you needed to do. A distant murmur of sentimentality in the back of your mind told you that you should go back to your bunker, try to salvage what few belongings you were permitted to have. Shock and the ingrained soldier's sense would not let you.

Gun. You needed your gun. You needed your gun so you could fire back, save others, protect your squadron. Where was it?

In the smoldering remains of your bunker, along with everything else you'd owned.

Another grenade clattered against the smoldering side of the communications center, falling dangerously close to an armored Jeep and rocking it on its wheels with its concussive explosion. You winced, shied away from the flash of fire and shrapnel, and looked wildly, desperately around for an ally, someone you knew, someone you trusted.

"Yeager!"

Your head shot up, eyes focusing in on the medical facility. The chief medic was hunched in the doorway, clutching an IV bag in one hand and its partnering needle in the other as he stared straight at you.

"Merendsen!" he shouted. "Merendsen's trapped in his bunker!"

Now given an order, a purpose, your mind locked onto it with renewed determination. However, when you told your body to move, it did not budge. You shook and shivered, but your limbs would not accept the commands given to them. You heard an unintelligible shout from another point in the camp, closer to the medicinal facility, and the chief medic looked back to you with furrowed brows. "They're readying a mortar! We've got to evacuate!"

To this day, you still don't recall ever getting up. All you remember is no longer laying in the sand, only running headlong through the crossfire and explosions and yelling towards the bunker where your commanding officer dwelled. The building was half collapsed, crackling and hissing with flames that licked against the shadows of light. You stumbled to your knees, digging at the crumbling and charred cement and hoping you wouldn't get hit. You gasped and cursed when you scorched your hand, but you were rewarded when you heard a groan amidst the rubble.

"Sir!" you gasped, trying to find the location of the sound. "Merendsen! Captain Merendsen!"

"Yeager...?" he rasped, and grunted when you shifted a rather large chunk of rock.

"Help me, sir," you panted. "I can't get you out by myself."

He groaned, though whether through pain or delirium you didn't know. You saw his bloodied, swelling fingers poke out from between a gap in the debris. Several painstaking and anxiety-riddled moments slid by, and as soon as his shoulders were visible you grappled for him and tugged him free of the debris. He choked out a curse, blood dripping from his head and hands as you dragged him onto the sand.

"We - we need to evac," he wheezed, glazed eyes taking in the decimation that was once home camp.

"We're working on it, sir," you managed, using a sizable chunk of concrete for cover as you tried to plot the best route to the medical facility. There was heavy fire being exchanged through the main route, several of your comrades hollering and bleeding while trying to hurl back as much as was being given to them. None noticed your predicament.

The medical facility. If you could get him there, he'd be safe until everyone got organized. It was the most well-protected place in camp (or what used to be the camp).

"Can you walk?" you hollered above the blast of fire swelling around a Jeep that had been turned over on the edge of camp.

"I'm fine!" he shouted back, gritting his teeth and trying to get his legs beneath him. His pupils were blown. He had a concussion. "Let's move! We need to get out of here!"

You hauled his arm around your neck, drawing his weight into your side and hefting both yourself and him to your feet. You huffed and strained beneath the extra weight, eyes stinging as sweat and dirt and smoke blurred your vision.

It was painstaking, bobbing and weaving through debris and smoke for cover. Your comrades made way for you, giving you cover-fire when crossing areas where you were plainly visible. Your commanding officer was grunting and cursing due to pain, trying his best to support his weight despite the fact that his leg was bent at a rather unnatural angle.

You rounded the corner, spotting the welcoming entryway to the medical bunker, and somewhere in the back of your conscious mind you recognized it - recognized this moment - and began to dread despite not being able to change the events of the past. All you registered was the distant flicker of red right before Merendsen was hollering in your ear. Your mind and focus clicked into place in that instant - sniper. Deeply ingrained instinct kicked in and you threw your weight to the side, shoving your captain into the sand as pain unfathomable exploded in your uncovered shoulder.

The next thing you knew was Merenden's face over yours, mouth moving but no sound coming forth. You realized you couldn't hear - not just him, but everything else. Your ears were ringing, body cold and frozen. Your heartbeat, hot and painful, throbbed in your shoulder (or, in retrospect, what was left of it).

Turning your head in an attempt to gain your bearings, you saw the sickening color of scarlet staining the sand beneath you, splattered over Merendsen's pinched face as he hunched over you protectively. He dug his palms into your shoulder, eliciting a weak, breathless gasp as pain bloomed across the forefront of your psyche. You felt the squish of blood against your torn and rent flesh. Your vision flickered, the dark draw of unconsciousness tugging at the edges of your consciousness. You were suddenly tired. Tired, and dazed, and hurting.

"...eager! Yeager! Stay with me, soldier! Don't you dare give up on your family!"

You blinked slowly, eyes listlessly returning to Merendsen's. His face was twisted into a pained, worried grimace.

"You've got a niece to go home to!" he shouted above the din, and you vaguely recognized the shift of sand as someone else skidded to a stop beside your head. The chief medic's face, illuminated by fire, swam on the side of your vision as though submerged in water. "Your brother needs you! Your family needs you!" Merendsen lifted his hands away from your shoulder so the medic could replace them, and your captain moved to grip your limp, trembling hand with his own. "Don't let go, soldier - that's an order!"

You remembered smiling, thanking him with a broken and soft and terrified voice. Then you remembered no more.

You remembered the pain, and its clawed grip upon your rapidly fluttering heart, and that was the first thing you felt when you jolted awake - except for the fact that there was no pain, and no slick, stickiness of blood soaking your shoulder and the cold sand beneath it. Your heart was still beating, though, thumping in your temples and throat and making quite the impression of itself on the inside of your chest cavity.

You blinked and sat up slowly, sucking in several lungfuls of cool, clear air. Your brain began to reboot slowly, gradually swimming out of the dark depths it had submersed itself in. You exhaled shakily, your hand going to your left shoulder. A pang of remembered agony tingled through the damaged nerve endings. Damn phantom pains.

Several tense, quiet moments passed. You breathed, focused on your heartbeat, closed your eyes against the vestiges of fear and shock. Your heart calmed, your body stopped trembling. You brushed your dampened hair away from your neck and grimaced as you registered the sweat clinging to your skin. Your eyes settled on the band of moonlight shining through your opened window, allowing the pleasant night air passage. A cursory glance towards your alarm clock assured you that yes, it was far too early to be awake.

4:21. Great.

Your eyes adjusted slowly, and you frowned when you saw your bedroom door still secured tightly shut, realizing your brother's warm presence wasn't currently wrapped around yours.

Cade hadn't come. He always came. He always knew. Where was he?

The distant clatter of metal against wood caused you to freeze. Your senses focused in on the sound, ears straining to hear anything else. Instead, dead silence settled over the outside world once more.

Your hand slipped silently under your pillow, the familiar bite of cold metal a comfortable weight in your hand as you settled your fingers around the grip and drew it out into open air. Your pistol gleamed in the moonlight as you slid your legs off the bed and slowly eased your weight into your feet. The floor did not creak nor groan as you crept to your window, peering around the edge to scrutinize the yard below.

No signs of life, nor disturbances. All was quiet.

Your eyes narrowed, and you made your way into the hall to check on your brood. Tessa was asleep beneath her sheets, hair strewn out over the pillow beneath her head. You closed the door silently. Cade, too, was in bed (thankfully), snoring and sprawled out over his mattress. He was deeply under, you could tell - how much had he been working before you'd returned?

Assured that they were safe, you padded down the stairs and made your way to the back door, grabbing a flashlight on your way by and stealing outside without a sound. You kept to the shadows, prowling towards the barn warily. Though every fiber in your body was tensed and focused on making your approach undetectable, your mind was buzzing. Who would be in your barn at this time of the night? Your first thought went to some wayward teenager or young adult looking for a quick buck, but you found that unlikely given you hadn’t heard a vehicle approach. A glance to the field and road beyond your home also proved that fact, as there was not a vehicle in sight. It could've been a raccoon, but you found that unlikely. Maybe something had just fallen over?

Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to check. You just really hoped that you wouldn't have to use your gun. You really weren't in the mood to shoot anybody.

Circling around to the back of the barn where the larger door rested, you readjusted your grip on your gun and tucked it behind the barn’s door handle. You braced yourself, taking a steadying breath. In one smooth motion you clicked on your flashlight and raised it level with your head, throwing the massive but relatively light door open before raising your gun to the immediate darkness within. "Whoever the hell you are, raise your hands - and don't make a mistake you'll regret, because I will shoot you!"

Two wide, startled, glowing blue eyes blinked down at you from inside the depths of the barn.

Shocked out of words for a split second, you froze. Then, "What the actual f-"

You had only a moment to register that the eyes belonged to a gargantuan, alien frame. It seemed that it, too, had been stunned by the mutual shock of discovering the other, but not for a moment longer. In that same instant, the gargantuan, alien frame lunged for you.

Screw not being in the mood to shoot somebody.

You raised your pistol and your finger twitched over the trigger, but the unknown figure was faster. A massive hand swiped out at you from the shadows, knocking both the gun from your grip and your entire body off of your own feet. The breath gushed out of you as you made harsh contact with the ground, the jolt stunning and dazing you. You scrabbled for purchase on the dewy grass beneath you as the figure leapt to loom over you, blocking a huge portion of the sky and casting a dark shadow over you. That same massive hand slammed down into the soft soil next to your head, fingers groping for your comparatively tiny body. You rolled away, stuttering out a curse as your hand found purchase on something cold and metal and heavy enough to be used as a weapon. Without thinking (not that you had the capacity, with your mind scattered and adrenaline coursing through your limbs), you found the creature's glowing, narrowed eyes in the dark and chucked the object at its crested head.

The clang of metal meeting metal rang out with the brief flash of sparks right before it was drowned out by a deafening bellow of pain. A disk-like shape fell from the creature's head and you had naught but a second to again roll to safety before it sank into the ground like a blade while your flashlight clattered a few feet away from you, light flickering across the ground. Green fluid spurted freely from the figure's cracked skull, but you were distantly confused to see electrical sparks shooting from the open wound.

Cade's shocked outcry of your name snapped you back into focus. Your head whirled to see him jumping from the front porch, sprinting straight for you and your still growling attacker. The ground shook beneath you and you were startled to hear the unknown figure (danger threat protect) garble out a roughened, pained version of your brother's name before its massive hand made another move to grab you.

"Optimus, no, don't-!"

"Cade, stay back - this human has a gun!"

"What the hell?!" you cried, staggering to your feet and away from the - holy shit, was it-?

Was it a transformer?

"Cade, get back!" you shouted, your eyes now finding the metallic sheen gleaming off the figure's silhouette. "Get back, get the shotgun!"

"Wait, just - wait a second!" Cade sounded panicked, worried, though you realized with terror he was running for the transformer and not you. "Optimus, wait!"

'Optimus'? Why did that...

The gargantuan figure froze as the human male stopped between it and you, waving his arms frantically and looking as pale as a sheet in the moonlight. "Please, just hang on a second!" He glanced wildly between the both of you, eyes pleading. "Let me explain!"

Both you and the transformer stilled, chests heaving and eyes looking from Cade to the other with suspicion and wariness.

"This is your sister?" the robotic alien rumbled, taking you off guard. It eased onto its haunches, sitting up and allowing the moonlight to illuminate its figure. Rust and peeling paint caught your eye, dust and grime obscuring much of what must've once been shiny metal. Its face was twisted, mouth pinched as it turned its glowing gaze to you. You realized that the disk that had fallen from its head was one of two ear-like arrays with sensor finials. The open wound(?) was still dribbling that same green substance. Blood?

"Yes, Optimus, this-" Cade exhaled heavily, hands and voice shaking with relief as you both stood down. He looked to you, guilt and apprehension forming in his eyes as he gestured towards the mechanical being behind him. "I..."

A short silence settled upon the three of you, tense and anxious. After a beat, you sighed and glanced up at the transformer, leveling it with a pointedly non-aggressive look. You saw the stiffness in its metal-plated shoulders relax minutely, then looked back to Cade only when you were sure the unspoken ceasefire was cemented.

"So..." you deadpanned, a wry, weary quirk forming at the edge of your mouth as you rubbed your sore cranium. "...who put him in your basket?"

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #transformers #bayverse #aoe #transformers: age of extinction #optimus prime #reader insert #optimus prime/reader #mine

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