#North Cascade Range

[thorsenmark]

Mountains in Southern Oregon on a Flight out of Medford by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: An airplane window view looking to the north while on out of Medford, Oregon. What I wanted to capture with this image was the view of mountains that I had been amongst for the past few days. This just happen to be in Oregon, but I had experienced quite a few wonderful views in California earlier in the week. I initially let the camera set a focus for this setting, but I then made manual adjustments with the lens ring in order to bring more of a focus that I’ve found is sometimes required for a view looking through an airplane window.

#Airplane Window View #Azimuth 348 #Blue Skies #Blue Skies with Clouds #California and Oregon Road Trip #Cascade Range #Crater Lake Area #Day 10 #DxO PhotoLab 5 Edited #Flight MFR to PHX #Flying over Oregon #Jet Airplane #Long Mountain #Looking North #Looking Outside Plane Window #Looking out Airplane Window #Looking out the Airplane Window #Miscellaneous #Mountain Peak #Mountain Peaks #Mountains #Mountains in Distance #Mountains off in Distance #Mountainside #Nikon D850 #Oregon Cascades #Pacific Ranges #Partly Cloudy #Plane Window #Project365

[rabbitcruiser]

Harsh

What do you think about my pic?  

#Newberry National Volcanic Monument #Deschutes County #Mount Bachelor #Cascade Volcanic Arc #Cascade Range #Oregon #Pacific Northwest #North Cascades #flora #nature #summer 2023 #travel #original photography #vacation #tourist attraction #landmark #landscape #countryside #USA #photo of the day #Lava Flow #Trail of the Molten Land #bush #grass

[sitting-on-me-bum]

The North Cascade Mountain Range.

Edmund Lowe Photography/Shutterstock

#edmund lowe photography #photographer #shutterstock #north cascade mountain range #landscape photography #nature #mountains #forest

[onehikeaweek]

Tidbits from West Twin Needle climb in the Picket Range

#picket range #west twin needle #north cascades national park #stephen mather wilderness #adobe express #adobe photoshop #Instagram #onehikeaweek #每週一行 #reels video

[rebeccathenaturalist]

This ties into one of the big conundrums of restoration ecology. When trying to decide what plants to add to a restoration site, should we add those that are there now, even if some of those species are increasingly stressed by the effects of climate change? Or do we start importing native species in adjacent ecoregions that are more tolerant of heat?

Animals can migrate relatively quickly, but plants take longer to expand their range, and the animals that they have mutual relationships with may be moving to cooler areas faster than the plants can follow. Whether the animals will be able to survive in their new range without their plant partners is another question, and that is an argument in favor of trying to help the plants keep up with them. We're not just having to think about what effects climate change will have next summer, but also predict what it's going to look like here in fifty years, a hundred, or beyond. It's an especially important question in regards to slow-growing trees which may not reproduce until they are several years old, and which can take decades to really be a significant support of their local ecosystem.

For example, here in the Pacific Northwest west of the Cascades, western red cedar (Thuja plicata) is experiencing increased die-off due to longer, hotter summer droughts. Do we continue to plant western red cedar, in the hopes that some of them may display greater tolerance to drought and heat? Or do we instead plant Port Orford cedar (Chamaecyparis lawsoniana), which is found in red cedar's southern range, and which may be more drought-tolerant, even though it's not found this far north yet?

Planting something from an adjacent ecoregion isn't the same as grabbing a plant from halfway around the world and establishing it as an invasive species. But there is the question as to whether the established native would have been able to survive if we hadn't introduced a competing "neighbor" species. Would the Port Orford cedars and western red cedars be able to coexist as they do in northern California and southern Oregon, or would the introduced Port Orfords be enough to push the already stressed red cedars over the edge to extirpation?

There's no simple answer. But I am glad to see the government at least allowing some leeway for those ecologists who are desperately trying any tactic they can to save rare species from extinction.

#restoration ecology #ecology #habitat restoration #climate change #global warming #anthropogenic climate change #nature #wildlife #plants #botany #trees #endangered species #extinction #environment #conservation #environmentalism #science #scicomm #science communication

[craftingcreatures]

Today I want to talk about the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus (Octopus paxarbolis).

OK, so for those who don't know, the PNW Tree Octopus was an internet hoax created in 1998 consisting of a website detailing the animal's life history and conservation efforts. It's completely fake - saying that up front. This animal never existed.

But if you look at this from a speculative biology standpoint? It's genius.

There is one, and only one, thing preventing Octopus from colonizing and being hugely successful in terrestrial environments in the PNW, and that's the fact that no cephalopod has ever been able to overcome the osmotic stress of inhabiting freshwater. We don't know why this is; other mollusks evolved freshwater forms just fine. But if you hand-wave away that one, single limiting factor, the PNW is just primed for a terrestrial octopus invasion.

The Pacific coast of North America is an active tectonic boundary, meaning the coast transitions pretty much immediately into the Cascade and Coastal mountain ranges (contrast with the east coast and its broad Atlantic plain). It's also a lush temperate rainforest, with very high precipitation. This means lots and lots of high-gradient mountain streams with lots of waterfalls and rapids and cold, highly oxygenated water, and not as many large, meandering rivers.

This has important consequences on the freshwater fauna. For one, there are not many freshwater fish in the Pacific Northwest - the rapids and waterfalls are extremely hard to traverse, so many mountain streams are fish-free. There also just isn't much fish diversity in the first place - there's sturgeon in the big rivers, salmonids, a few sculpin and cyprinids and... that's pretty much it. These cold northern rivers are positively impoverished compared to the thriving fish communities of the Mississippi or Rio Grande.

Few fish means few predators, and depending on the size of the first freshwater octopus, salmon and trout just wouldn't be much of a threat. And while these rivers don't have much in the way of fish diversity, there's lots of prey available - crayfish, leeches, mosquito larvae, frogs and tadpoles, water striders, and other aquatic insects, just to name a few. So the first Octopus pioneers to invade the rivers would be entering what essentially amounts to a predator-free environment with lots and lots of food and no competition. Great for colonization.

These ideal conditions get even better once you get up past the rapids and waterfalls, since there's no fish whatsoever in those streams. Octopus, with their sucker-lined arms, are perfectly equipped to navigate fast-moving, rocky-bedded streams and climb up cliffs. They'd also be well able to traverse short stretches of dry ground to access even more isolated pools and ponds. In fact, once Octopus overcome the osmoregulation problem there's nothing at all preventing them from colonizing land in earnest, since the PNW rainforests are so wet; there's no danger of drying out.

Finally there's the question of reproduction. Octopus are famously attentive mothers, because they need to keep the water around their eggs moving and well-oxygenated. In a mountain stream, this wouldn't be an issue, because the cold, turbulent water holds lots and lots of oxygen. Breeding in high mountain streams would be ideal, and the mothers might not even need to attend to their eggs, freeing them up to evolve away from semelparity and allowing them to reproduce more than once in their lives; their populations would thus increase rapidly and dramatically.

I think, if octopus managed to invade freshwater ecosystems in the PNW, it would dramatically change the ecology much like an invasive species. They'd be unstoppable predators of frogs, bugs, slugs, maybe even larger animals like snakes, birds, and small mammals. Nothing would eat them except maybe herons, and things like bears and raccoons would give them a wide berth due to their venom. They would rule that landscape.

The tl;dr is that the PNW is primed for invasion by cephalopods, if only they could manage to overcome the osmoregulation problem and live in freshwater. If the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus really did exist, it wouldn't be a shy and reclusive species on the brink of extinction; it would be a pest, an invasive, overpopulated menace you couldn't get rid of if you wanted to. I can just imagine them crawling up onto people's bird feeders and either stealing the nuts or luring in unsuspecting sparrows and starlings. They would sit in the trees and throw pinecones at hikers for fun. They would be some unholy mixture of snake and slug with the personality of a magpie and I am incensed that they only exist in fiction.

#long post #octopus #speculative biology #speculative evolution #spec bio #spec evo #pacific northwest #pacific northwest tree octopus #truly a shame that there are no freshwater or terrestrial cephalopods

[fatehbaz]

“Exceptionally rare animal spotted in California for only 2nd time in 100 years. Shock, excitement as second wolverine in 101 years seen in California. Wolverine spotted in California for only the second time in a century.”

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‘A trio of rare wolverine sightings in California has been verified by scientists, marking just the second time in a century the animal has been spotted in the Golden State. All three sightings were reported by different people last month in various parts of the Eastern Sierra Mountains. One was seen in Yosemite National Park and two in the Inyo National Forest, the state Department of Fish and Wildlife announced Thursday [1 June 2023]. [...] [T]here are thought to be only about 300 wolverines in the country [Lower 48, contiguous United States]. [...] The last time a wolverine was spotted in California was documented by scientists between 2008 and 2018 in the Tahoe National Forest. Before then, the last sightings were in the 1920s.’

Headline, image, caption, and text excerpt from: Cheri Mossburg. “Wolverine spotted in California for only the second time in a century.” CNN. 2 June 2023.

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For context, the current and historic distribution range of the wolverine in North America, displaying widespread local extinctions:

The closest known healthy/permanent populations of wolverine are far away in the Northern Rockies in Idaho and the North Cascades in Washington.

One of these wolverines was seen at Yosemite National Park, which is about 450 miles/720 kilometers away from the wolverine populations in the Rockies northeast of Boise, 500 miles/800 kilometers away from the Wasatch Mountains near Logan, and about 1,000 miles/1,600 kilometers away from North Cascades National Park.

[bettergeology]

The Big Obsidian Flow is the youngest lava flow in Oregon, at the juvenescent age of ~1,300 years before present. It's a product of the most recent eruption of Newberry Volcano, the largest in the Cascade Range north of the California border (Medicine Lake Volcano is the largest overall). Newberry is a bit enigmatic - it's a huge volcano with a high rate of large eruptions but is not on the main Cascade volcanic arc. There's a number of converging fault zones in this area, which probably create significant crustal weakness allowing magma to percolate through the crust quickly.

Obsidian is common in lava flows of the rhyolitic composition, which is the most evolved kind of magma. Rhyolite magma spends lots of time spent in the crust for crustal rocks to contaminate the magma body and for heavier iron/magnesium-rich minerals to settle out, leaving behind a melt with over 68% silica (quartz). Silica is the same stuff regular glass is made of, so the higher your silica content then the glassier your lava flow is likely to be on the surface. The bands present in big chunks of obsidian are the result of shearing, differential cooling/composition, and flowing during the lava flow. This is very thick, sticky, viscous lava that doesn't like to flow. As it cools, it breaks rather than bends and turns the lava flow into a moonscape of glass shards and boulders.

The large amount of obsidian at this and other flows around Newberry Volcano is interesting because the volcano is mostly made of basalt - a lava with a near-opposite composition from rhyolite. Akin to Mauna Loa or Iceland, most of Newberry's lava flows form a broad shield more than 60 miles N-S and 30 miles E-W (roughly 100x50 km). The central part of the Volcano is about ten miles (16 km) across and contains a caldera formed when the central summit collapsed ~75,000 years ago. The caldera has been filled by subsequent eruptions and by two lakes separated by a big pumice cone. This means that the volcano produces - simultaneously - a wide range of magma compositions, indicating a complicated and long-lived magmatic system. Hazards from Newberry (to the 200,000 people living on its slopes) are not limited to fluid basalt eruptions that slowly blanket the landscape but also major explosive eruptions. The Big Obsidian Flow is a representative of the latter. Ash and debris from that eruption is found as far away as Idaho, and is many meters deep near the eruption's vent.

#oregon geology #geology #lava #magma #obsidian #volcano #volcanology #newberry volcano #central oregon #bendoregon #Cascade Volcanoes #PNW Volcano #rocks #oregon

[yourmaximoff]

Midnight Sins

Summary: Ever since Princess Wanda began to be disturbed in her dreams by a succubus, her life has never been the same.

Paring: Princess!Wanda x Succubus!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: (+18) top!reader, botton!wanda, non/dub-con, dirty talk, degradation, sonophilia, public mind sex, fingering, oral, vampirism (reader is vampire-succubus, so feeds on cum and blood)

Words: 10k

A/N: hey hi again, this is definitely hot, it has a lot of obscenities, but it is so sweet in a way. I hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write ♡

(English is not my first language, sorry for any translation errors)

𓆩♡𓆪

The silver moonlight gently spilled over a magnificent Renaissance castle located in the north of Romania. Towering spires rose in various parts of the castle, their sharp silhouettes cutting through the dark sky like a gleaming knife.

Stone walls, bathed in the bright moonlight, revealed themselves in shades of gray and darkness, yet not in the least worn. The wealth and grandeur of the Maximoff royal family were manifested in every part of that carefully preserved and immaculate castle.

A vast expanse of flowers adorned a garden beside the grand castle. Flower beds exuded a diverse combination, ranging from fiery red to deep purple, from soft lilac to bright yellow.

A serene little lake rested in a more secluded area of the flowers. Its crystal-clear water perfectly reflected the moon, but also a slender crimson tail swaying on the branch of an apple tree.

Taking in a deep breath of the cozy air of the dark, chilly night, you observed the statue of a female figure in the middle of the garden. A pattern of white and red flowers surrounded the angelic figure with large open wings, her body slightly inclined downward as if blessing the flowers.

You attentively observed the statue, its angelic aura and a small crucifix on its chest like a protective necklace. You wrinkled your nose, laughing at the feeble attempt of stupid humans to keep creatures of the night at bay. Well, perhaps this statue truly kept some creatures fearful, but you felt nothing but an even greater desire to disturb that place.

The statue truly caught your attention. It portrayed a beautiful woman whom you felt drawn to know more about. Perhaps she was a historical figure, a philosopher, a healer, or even a saint? She was a young girl, nothing like the statues of grumpy men scattered around the village. It was the beauty of the statue that, ever since you first laid eyes on it, drew you in rather than instilling fear.

Your routine, ever since the statue was placed there a few weeks ago, has been to wait for the moonlight to consume the blazing sunlight, to sit on the branch of the tree nearby, just enough to remain unseen, and simply stay close to the statue. You were alone, and strangely felt embraced by the unknown marble figure.

Tonight was no different from the past twenty nights. Lying on the tree branch, with your head resting in your hands, gazing at the moonlight and only feeling the presence of the statue, you inhale deeply the scent of the flowers and let your mind drift away and wander into infinity.

Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't notice a dark-haired girl approaching the statue. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back like waves, and a delicate dress made of fine fabric gently embraced her curves.

Your eyes left the moon and returned to the statue when you caught a unique scent, a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla. Your eyes widened as they landed on the figure responsible for the fragrance. A girl with her back to you, kneeling on the ground and pushing the soil aside, creating a hole.

Her hands caressed the soil while singing a beautiful song in a language you didn't know but reminded you of French and Latin. Her slightly husky yet sweet voice sent a shiver down your spine.

The girl left the newly planted seed, took a small jug, and began filling it from the little lake in front of the tree where you were. Your heart started racing as you noticed the striking resemblance between the girl in front of you and the statue. Her ethereal aura, her prominent freckled cheeks that you could only see up close, her slightly plump lips, and her wavy hair cascading down her back only made you hungrier.

Your stomach growled silently, and your mouth began to salivate as you saw the small girl in front of you as the perfect prey to satisfy your sudden hunger. Your breath became uneven as you simply observed the delicacy with which she filled a jug with water. The sight of her pronounced collarbone and the deliciously exposed curve of her neck only intensified the uncontrollable beast within you.

When she turned her back again to water the newly planted seed, your entrance throbbed and trembled. Your eyes transformed into a vivid red with dilated pupils, and your cheeks burned with excitement.

But something inside you prevented you from attacking her. Something in your chest warmed in a way never felt before. You had such affection for the statue's figure that now that her figure stood before you in flesh and blood, with blood pumping deliciously in her veins, you couldn't think of anything but wanting her for yourself. You didn't want to kill her, you wanted to consume her, to feed on her blood, to indulge in her pleasure, and above all, to feast on her soul.

You sneaked and descended from the tree, landing your bare feet silently on the ground, inhaling deeply the scent of cinnamon and vanilla, even more prominent in the air. The girl's voice began to sing the lullaby again in the unknown language, unaware of your mortal presence just behind her.

Your chest started pounding as you took a step forward, your inner monster beginning to take control of your body, accompanied by the hunger exploding in your empty stomach. Fangs descended over your canine teeth, and your saliva filled your famished mouth.

"Wanda, dear, dinner is on the table. Clean your hands and come eat." The sweet voice of the queen, coming from the open glass door of the garden, resonated throughout the flower-filled space.

"Yes, mother, I'm coming." The girl, supposedly named Wanda, wiped the dust off her hands on her own white dress and left the garden.

You deeply inhaled the scent of her body, the delicious perfume spreading through the air as her angelic presence dissipated. You shook your head, pushing the bloodthirsty monster lodged within you back into your consciousness.

Your fangs gave way to your normal canines, your eyes slowly returned to their original color, and your tail began to wag from side to side in excitement that took over your body. Allowing your more rational and less animalistic self to return, you went back to the tree with the intention of waiting until everyone in the castle retired, to finally strike in the middle of the night.

And so it was done. As the hours advanced into the early morning, all the lights in the castle were turned off, plunging the palace into deep darkness. The only remaining illumination came from the chandeliers carried by the guards on their nightly rounds, with candles flickering in their steady hands. The chandeliers cast dancing shadows on the stone walls, while the guards' silent steps echoed through the corridors.

You left the tree and, before heading towards the castle, took one last look at the statue. Its features were identical to those of your next victim, but this replica was not perfect. It lacked her delicate and almost imperceptible freckles, her naturally rosy cheeks, and most importantly, her sweet scent. But even so, you found yourself admiring it.

Your gaze traveled across the statue's body and stopped at the outstretched arms, as if blessing the ground and the flowers around. Your eyes fixated on a small, solitary flower, separated from the others, with a freshly cut stem and voluminous petals stained with dirt. Next to it, you noticed a cluster of weeds tangled in a green mess. The poor flower struggled against the weeds, and Wanda was determined to help.

Gently, you cupped the flower in your hands and recognized that it wasn't a rose but a Black Swan peony. Its petals, arranged in multiple layers, displayed a deep red, almost black. Despite its somber appearance, its aroma was soft and sweet.

Your gaze turned back to the statue, and a strong determination surged through your veins as your mind merged the figure of the statue with that of the brunette girl.

Sneaking around the castle, your feet found support on the rough surfaces of the rocks, while your hands firmly grasped the ledges and crevices of the castle. Finally, you reached the castle's balcony, where an open window revealed itself as a passage into the princess's room.

Climbing up the edge of the open window, you breathed deeply, sensing the sweet vanilla scent filling the room. With a smile on your lips, you sneaked inside, noticing the presence of the brunette girl lying on the imposing canopy bed positioned in the center of the spacious room.

The white satin sheet stood out in contrast to the dark wooden pillars flanking the bed. A wooden plaque carved in gold above the headboard displayed the name 'Wanda' in careful and extremely elegant calligraphy.

"Wanda." You whispered each letter on your tongue, feeling how her confirmed baptismal name resonated as it left your mouth.

The entire room screamed lust and wealth but with a sweet and delicate touch in every part. A wooden dressing table against the wall, the large mirror reflected the items on the table. No dark or heavy makeup, only lip gloss and lighter colors, she surely didn't need any makeup to accentuate her beauty.

On the desk, there was a recently extinguished scented candle, emitting a delightful lavender scent that brought a calm and relaxed aura. Study papers on languages and some gouache paintings scattered across the wooden surface. And everywhere, there were small pots with simple plants that appeared to be well cared for. You approached the desk, planting a kiss on the peony, and placed it on the papers on the table.

Allowing your curious gaze to fall upon her sleeping figure on the bed, you approached with slow steps until you were mere inches away from the bed. Noble blood pumped through her veins, and the angelic aura that pervaded her room, emanating from her body as well, left you with no other thought than the fact that she was undoubtedly a princess.

A smile settled on your lips, a vivid red invaded your pupils, and your succubus tail began to sway in the air again. The fragile and defenseless figure before you intensified your unbearable hunger, lascivious thoughts flooded your mind like waves. This time, your fangs didn't appear; this time, you weren't hungry for blood. You craved orgasm, and your prey, your victim, was right in front of you, ready to feed you.

𓆩♡𓆪

A deep gasp escaped Wanda's throat, choked moans sounding like high-pitched melodies in the air. Her hands tightly gripped the white satin sheet, and her legs unconsciously wrapped around a figure between her thighs. She pushed her hips upward, feeling her blood pulsate through her veins, her legs trembling along with her hands gripping the sheet tightly. She was being consumed.

"Fuck." She gasped again in another moan, her entrance being attacked with licks and suction in all the right places on her sensitive pussy.

As her breath rose and fell, her hardened nipples rubbed against the soft fabric of her nightgown. Waves of heat crashed against her burning body, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead, and warm air escaping her lips with every moan. The overheating and the pleasure building up in her stomach were enough for her eyes to start watering.

Feeling the skillful tongue hitting all the sensitive parts of her hot core, she began to feel the orgasm slowly corroding her stomach. She started grinding her hips against the delightful sensation, but sharp nails like claws pressed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, preventing her from moving. Another moan escaped her throat, and instead of dispersing the pleasure, the pain became enough fuel for her to reach the limit, the highest sensation of pleasure she had ever felt before.

Wanda's body trembled, her hands instinctively flew to the head between her legs. Pulling strands of unfamiliar hair forcefully between her fingers, it was as if she signaled the impending release of her orgasm.

A precise and rough lick was enough for her viscous liquid to flow from her hot hole onto the hunter's tongue. She felt pleasure coursing through her veins, the sensation of spirals dissipating from her stomach, and a wave of pleasure and relief flooding her mind.

You smiled against her pussy; it tasted even better than you thought a princess would. It was as sweet as her aura, but as addictive as a drug. Sliding your tongue all over her pussy one last time, savoring every delicious drop, you planted a tender kiss on her folds and faded away like smoke from her mind.

Wanda woke up with her chest pounding and her body hot. Sweat trickled down her forehead, while her breathing was heavy and her eyes moistened with dry tears. Startled, she quickly sat up in bed and looked at the open window.

The white curtains swayed, bringing in the cold night breeze, while a fleeting figure with a red tail darted through the crack between the curtains. Feeling fear, Wanda slid off the bed and turned on the bedside lamp, but, as expected or perhaps unexpectedly, there was nothing there. She sighed deeply, straightening her disheveled hair, and approached the vanity. Looking at her own sweaty and heated reflection in the mirror, she realized she had had an erotic dream.

She had never experienced anything so vivid and real before. A wave of pleasure enveloped her in the dream, taking her to climax in an intense and overwhelming way. Now, her cheeks turned red with embarrassment as she recalled that little sinful dream she had lived. She mentally scolded herself for not looking down and discovering who was behind that pleasurable sensation.

"Could this dream be a premonition of something, perhaps the love of my life?" She questioned herself as she sat down and began to run the brush through her hair.

After a few minutes of contemplation, the orange rays of sunlight slowly started dissipating the darkness of the night. Its brightness flooded the room, illuminating every corner, while the sound of the newly awakened birds brought a sense of peace to Wanda's troubled mind.

As she looked out the window, Wanda noticed something positioned on top of the desk. Feeling curious, she left the brush on the vanity table and walked over to the desk. To her surprise, there was the Peony she had tended to and removed weeds from the garden the previous night, delicately resting on the surface of the table.

Throughout the morning, she found herself returning to her dream, and her flushed cheeks betrayed that she was thinking about something inappropriate for the moment. Amidst her duties as a princess, she found herself doodling various drawings on the sheet, depicting the possible mysterious figure. Each drawing had different features, such as the face shape, body, and even the type of hair, which was the only thing she could distinctly feel from the figure between her legs.

"Are you here, Wanda?" Her friend Monica asked, snapping her fingers in front of Wanda's focused eyes on the drawing.

"Oh, yes, sorry." Wanda shook her head, diverting her eyes from the drawings to the French teacher. "Why do I need to learn French anyway?"

"Because suitors from all languages will come to the ball, silly," Monica replied, shaking her head and glancing away from Wanda to the sheet on the table.

"And your father wants to make sure you'll be a good diplomat," answered the gray-haired, stubble-faced teacher, as he continued to glide the chalk on the board.

Wanda grimaced, shaking her head. She liked having all the privileges and not having to make an effort to achieve things. However, the whole situation of being courted by people from other kingdoms made her stomach churn. Deep down, she knew why she felt nauseous about it. It's not that she disliked attention, but the idea of having only men to choose from didn't seem as exciting as it should be.

The 21st birthday gift Wanda received from her mother was a replica of herself in the form of a statue in the garden. Perhaps it was a bit too narcissistic for her taste to have a life-size copy of herself, but she didn't complain; she found it charming to be among the flowers she cared for with such dedication and affection.

On the other hand, her father's gift was to invite several suitors from various wealthy kingdoms to a party at the palace in a few days, with the intention of finding a suitor worthy of her to help govern the kingdom or govern on her behalf. Maybe Wanda was minimally lucky to have a family that loved and respected her enough not to force her into a marriage against her will. However, the idea of her fate being to marry a man who supposedly would boss her around made her nauseous.

𓆩♡𓆪

The afternoon sun slowly began to be consumed by the darkness that the moon radiated, all the rooms of the palace turning on its yellow lights, illuminating the entire darkness of the castle.

You lay on the same branch as usual, your thumb wiping the blood that trickled from the corners of your lips. Savouring the metallic taste of blood, you placed your hands behind your head like a pillow. Inhaling deeply the scent of the garden flowers, you once again felt embraced by the presence of the beautiful statue, now called Wanda. You silently allowed yourself to confide your feelings to the statue.

You were still curious to know more about Wanda, to know a little more than just the taste of her climax. This was actually something new for you. You were a creature of the night, a creature created to feed on humans, both their blood and their climax, but something about Wanda was different. You felt as if imaginary butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. That intoxicating scent of her perfume was stuck in your mind. Closing your eyes, you could feel her presence just by the memory of her perfume. Her sweet voice answering her mother, the color of her hair, the prominent collarbone on her pale skin above the shoulders of that dress. Everything was spinning in your mind, everything seemed so confusing. You had never felt empathy for anyone before, and now you have a girl in your head, a princess named Wanda.

Shifting your gaze from the moon to the statue, you descended from the tree and approached slowly. Admiring the perfection of the marble statue, your mind brought forth memories of Wanda's face. Every detail was vivid in your memory: the delicate freckles, the slightly curved nose, the eyes green like weeds, the full lips painted with a soft gloss. Fascinated, you approached the statue, gliding gently over the marble surface until your lips met those of the sculpture. Curious to feel the texture and sensation, you pressed your lips against the coldness of the stone, knowing it was only a representation, but still enjoying the illusion of an impossible kiss.

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered, but the sensation wasn't enough for them to go away. You swallowed, moving away, looking at the statue with a smile and slightly warm cheeks. Oh damn, did you really kiss a statue? You laughed at yourself, but soon released a sigh, looking at the glass door of the garden. Could you have her lips against yours? Would she ever kiss you awake?

Looking up, you observed Wanda's bedroom window with the light on. Some nearby flowers showed signs of weeds starting to grow on their stems. Wanda's careful attention to her plants piqued your curiosity about what she might be doing. Perhaps, having seen Wanda only once, the previous night, your mind created an imaginary nighttime routine for her.

Shaking off the conflicting thoughts, you took one last look at the statue and felt a wave of adrenaline rush through your veins. A visit wouldn't hurt anyone, right? You felt the urge to see her again, to observe her skin, to feel her scent.

But maybe it was a bit premature, after all, were you really missing her? Even though you saw her for the first and only time last night? Grimacing to yourself, you dismissed your own question. No, you only liked the taste of her climax, and that was it. You had no empathy or feelings for anyone.

You kept that lie in your mind as you climbed the protruding rocks on the castle's stone walls. Placing your hands on the balcony, you squinted your eyes and saw her with her back to the open window. A romantic symphony played in the room, and only the chandelier light illuminated the space as she wrote something at the desk.

You silently jumped inside the balcony and sat on the floor. Thankful that the window was open and the curtains were pinned, you could observe her attentively. The tranquility that reigned in the room started to warm your heart in a different way. Crossing your legs, you rested your elbow on the knee and, with the palm of your hand open, supported your head.

Looking through the vanity mirror, you managed to see her beautiful face illuminated by the chandelier light. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, her eyes fixed on a book in front of her, occasionally glancing down to write on the page. Her features were so soft and angelic that everything she did seemed like the work of an angel.

As if she felt your gaze, she absentmindedly looked at the vanity mirror. Her eyes met yours directly, and for a moment, you were grateful for being half-vampire and not reflecting in the mirror. Her irises gently stood out under the orange light of the chandelier, her eyelashes blinked slowly as she returned her attention to the page in front of her.

Wanda looked like a living work of art, her eyes gliding from the page to the book resting in front of her. Sometimes, she got lost in thoughts, looking around as if she sensed she was being watched. However, you were cunning and managed to stay quiet and invisible to her eyes.

A long period passed without you even realizing, and Wanda stood up from the chair, closing the book and her now content-filled page on the table. Stretching her body, she turned on her heels and glanced at the open window. As she approached, she placed her hand on the two large windows, about to close them when a thought crossed her mind.

"What if my dream came from the open window?" Wanda thought. She always kept her window closed, and the only day she left it open coincided with her dream. Did she really want to dream about that again? Was it worth the risk of leaving the window open, allowing some flying animal, insect, or even a monster to enter the room, all for just a moment of pleasure?

A hand rested on Wanda's lips, preventing any scream from escaping. A deep, seductive whisper echoed in her ears, "Come to me." The sound of that hypnotizing voice enveloped her mind, making her feel dizzy and weak. Unable to resist, she fainted in your arms, surrendering completely.

Feeling the weight of Wanda's lifeless body, you carefully embraced her and lifted her in your arms as if she were a feather. The soft touch of her skin against yours, the sensation of her warmth and fragility, brought a mixture of excitement and tenderness. With determined steps, you carried her to the soft bed, gently placing her on the delicate sheets.

Back in her quarters, you let curiosity work in your body. Gliding through the room, you could now calmly observe things in her room, without that thirst and euphoria of tasting her for the first time.

The papers on the desk were carefully organized, revealing Wanda's sweet and elegant handwriting. Next to the papers, a French study book was closed, marked by a delicate red bookmark.

A picture frame caught your attention, displaying a picture of Wanda with her parents. The three of them were dressed in luxurious clothes, revealing the wealth and elegance of the family. A diamond tiara shone on Wanda's forehead, while her makeup, slightly more intense than usual, further enhanced her youthful beauty. The golden shimmer on her eyelids and cheeks seemed to reflect the sun, adding a touch of glamour to her angelic appearance.

On the wooden shelf, there was a meticulously organized stack of books. Among the titles, a diversity of subjects stood out, including studies on plants and flowers. However, what caught your attention the most was the significant number of romance books, occupying a considerable space on the shelf.

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of Wanda being a romantic girl. Would she be the type to receive flowers? Or the type to give flowers from her own garden? You pondered on the perfect gift to court a princess like her. Surely, gold and jewelry were common gifts that she probably received abundantly, an obvious display of wealth, but Wanda didn't seem to enjoy that type of gift.

You left Wanda's room, jumped off the balcony, and under the cozy light of the night, you stealthily sneaked through the now empty streets of the village to the local library. Entering the empty library and passing by the large shelves, you soon spotted what you were looking for. Sliding your finger over the hard, brownish cover, you pulled out the book, holding it securely in your hands.

The dark brownish cover only further enhanced the title 'Dracula' written in a shiny faux gold. Your eyes gleamed, reflecting the golden glow of the book and bringing to mind the memory of Wanda's pale skin under the orange light of the chandelier. If you were to give her a gift, you would certainly use this book that revealed little, but revealed your world and your vampiric mind.

Back in her room, you placed the book on the table, along with a small note you wrote with your own pen on a blank sheet. At no point did you wonder why you were giving her a gift; you simply let your instincts guide you. Perhaps deep down, you knew that Wanda was different and that she made your heart flutter. The idea of courting her, even if she didn't know of your existence, brought comfort to you.

Your eyes dilated when you saw her lying face down on the bed, with one thigh bent and the other leg stretched out, exposing a good portion of her body. You swallowed hard, smiling as your mouth began to salivate, preparing to attack once again. To attack to obtain what you desire so much, after all, you believe you deserve it, don't you? The book on the table has a price, and that price is her.

Diving deep into her desires and darkest thoughts, you consumed her mind, invading every piece of her thoughts and delving into her darkest desires. In the cloud of emotions growing in her mind, you were able to understand some things that Wanda liked, and you would certainly use them to provide even more pleasure to her, and consequently, to feed better.

Wanda's breath started to hitch as she felt the space between her legs being attacked again, but this time it was skillful fingers delivering slow movements against her clitoris. She moaned softly and, as she tilted her head to finally see the face of her hunter, delicious lips engulfed one of her breasts.

The surprise was enough for you to sink two fingers into her walls, stretching her slowly with back and forth movements. Wanda swallowed the deep groan, gripping your hair tightly against her chest. You began to suck on her breast with your mouth, your tongue tracing around her deliciously hardened nipple, while your fingers started to thrust forcefully and quickly inside her.

"Who..." She choked on a moan, her head stretched back on the pillow, and her hands gripped your hair tightly. "Who are you?"

You growled against her nipple, gliding deep kisses along her collarbone until reaching her ear. "Soon, you'll know." You trailed kisses down her neck, where you found her delicious pulse, feeling her hot blood pumping tirelessly to her heated mind. Your mouth tirelessly left purple bite marks and hickeys on her neck. If this wasn't a dream, Wanda would certainly feel very embarrassed and self-conscious the next day explaining the marks on her neck.

"Do you want to be treated like a dirty slut?" You asked against the skin of her neck, moving back up to her ear. "There, inside your beautiful, brainless little head, you like that, don't you?" You pushed your fingers as deep as you could and began twisting them inside her, thrusting all the way in and pulling back to the edge. Gradually, her mind started to drift away, the butterflies in her stomach swirling as the pressure in her stomach increased, swelling like a balloon about to burst.

Wanda swallowed hard, and a smile appeared on her lips as she processed your dirty words. This was what she wanted, at least for now. Being treated with respect and like royalty was nice, but being treated like a whore was one of the repressed fetishes within her. Wanda needed someone to disrupt her perfect princess life, she needed a demon to consume her completely, she needed you.

You eagerly devoured her entire pussy, her legs closed around your face while you still pumped your fingers inside her. Sucking motions and your tongue tracing her sensitive clit were enough to make an orgasm explode over her stomach. A tired, guttural moan escaped Wanda's lips, her toned thighs trembling and trapping you between her legs. You gave a few more thrusts, prolonging the pleasure, and slid your mouth to finally consume her precious nectar.

𓆩♡𓆪

"I noticed you like romances. Why not give this one a chance?" Wanda read, biting her lower lip. Her eyes scanned the note again for the tenth time since she laid eyes on it earlier in the morning.

Sitting on a swing, Wanda allowed her body to be gently rocked by the breeze blowing from the surrounding nature. Her hair was disheveled, cascading messily down her back. The brunette's cheeks were lightly flushed from the wind caressing her skin, adding a rosy touch to her appearance. Wanda's hands carefully held the book she had received, positioned on her lap. A large branch from the voluminous tree served as a support point for a sturdy sisal rope, while vines from the trunk spread tangled over the rope, creating delicate flowered vines that intertwined with the swing's cords.

Once again, she was attacked by the night. She couldn't even call it an attack anymore; it was as pleasurable as the first time, but so unique that she couldn't believe her mind was playing tricks on her like this. Who could have placed that book on the table early in the morning? Her parents had already given her the birthday present, and she would certainly recognize the handwriting. The person who attacked her in the dream now had a voice, a beautiful voice that began to disturb Wanda's thoughts in the morning. It was impossible; it was just a dream. Her tired mind, seeking alternatives to relax, may have created a figure from her own imagination... right? Unless something supernatural was truly lurking around her. Wanda was aware of the existence of nocturnal creatures, but she never bothered to delve deeper into her studies on the subject. But now, with the possibility that something supernatural was truly disturbing her, she felt defenseless.

Swaying gently, Wanda was immersed in thought, trying to connect her recurring erotic dreams with the gift on the table. In a matter of days, she had been supposedly attacked with waves of pleasure and gifted with presents. Had Wanda done something to deserve these things? Was it God, if He even exists, rewarding her for being a good princess?

The bright sunlight pierced through the dense clouds and bathed Wanda's face, temporarily blinding her vision. She furrowed her brow, feeling the intense heat against her skin, and instinctively raised the book to create a protective shade over her face.

As the shadow offered relief from the blinding glare, her thoughts began to organize. Her eyes scanned the words printed on the book cover: "Dracula." A shiver ran down her spine as the word gleamed before her eyes. A sudden idea erupted in her clouded mind like a flash of lucidity. That was it; she needed to delve deeper into the study of nocturnal creatures in order to discover what exactly was disturbing her.

Wanda crossed the village and entered the local library. Her princess attire was completely concealed beneath the large traveler's cloak with a hood, keeping her royal aura hidden. Wanda always wore this cloak when escaping the confines of the castle, seeking solace in an empty spot in the library to read or breathe the fresh air among common folk.

With hands positioned behind her back and her head slightly tilted forward, Wanda stepped into the library with soft and cautious steps. The distinct scent of old books and knowledge permeated the air, enveloping her in a literary atmosphere.

Wanda proceeded, lightly gliding her fingers over the spines of the volumes within her reach. Her senses were heightened as if the library itself whispered in her ear, revealing clues and directions to follow. After a few minutes of relentless searching, her keen eyes captured an intriguing sight: a solitary book resting on a dark and less frequented shelf of the library.

Wanda reached out and took the book, feeling the rough and worn texture of the leather in her fingers. The title bore inscriptions that seemed to have been carved by someone hundreds of years ago. Carefully, she opened the old, yellowed pages, sensing the scent of aged paper wafting into her nostrils along with a cloud of swirling dust.

𓆩♡𓆪

On the night preceding the ball, Wanda entered the garden, holding a book firmly in her hands, and approached the tree where you were. Watching her hands closely, you recognized the book you had gifted her, held tightly between her arms, pressed against her chest. A knot formed in your throat, and you began to rise, consumed by the fear of being seen by her. However, as Wanda turned her back to the tree, settling down on the ground and resting her head against the trunk, a silent sigh of relief escaped her lips.

Curiously, you observed as Wanda's delicate fingers opened the cover of the book titled 'Dracula'. Her white dress spread out on the grass, contrasting with the vibrant green surroundings, while her pale skin extended forward, touching the softness of the lawn.

"Jonathan Harker's Diary," Wanda said aloud, and you immediately recognized the beginning of the book. She stretched her legs up to her knees and carefully rested the book on her lap. Her enchanting voice echoed throughout the garden, enveloping the surroundings with a gentle melody.

Lying back on the branch, you smiled as you gazed at the moon and the stars, while Wanda's reading spun through your mind. You were thrilled that she was actually reading something you had given her, and you were certainly even happier that she was enjoying the experience with you. Even though you weren't by her side, you felt minimally connected to her angelic figure.

Each paragraph slid perfectly off her tongue like a song. The perfect diction and the slight accent lingering on certain words added an extra charm, bringing a touch of acidity to her youthful and angelic appearance. Her fingers delicately turning the next page as you slowly closed your eyes to absorb more of her soft voice and the story. Engrossed in her voice, you didn't notice when she closed the book slowly and let out a deep sigh.

"Is it you?" she asked, her voice filled with emotion, a slight tremor perceptible in her words.

Your eyes widened as you shifted your gaze from the moon to Wanda's hands, just below you, resting on the closed book. Watching her intently, you narrowed your eyes and noticed a slight nervousness, evident in her trembling fingers pressed against the book. Knowing exactly what she was asking about, you pondered for a moment whether you should actually answer or if she was just asking the question to the wind and to herself.

"Yes," you replied, curious about her reaction. You weren't sure if she had seen you and was aware of your presence or if she was simply asking the question into the void and to herself.

"Why me?" She asked, rising from the ground, her head slowly turning in your direction, but her eyes tightly shut.

You carefully descended from the tree, landing softly on the ground. Before you, she stood with her eyes tightly closed. Your eyes traced every trace of benevolence etched on her face. However, her trembling hands clutched the book firmly, revealing an imminent fear pulsating within her being.

"Why not you?" you whispered calmly and seductively in front of her. "A little princess protected by guards in a grand castle," With slow and intentionally heavy steps, you walked around her. "Is that not enough to keep a creature like me away from you?"

"I hoped it would be," Wanda murmured, her voice trembling, her hands tightly pressing the book against her chest. "I needed to find out what was happening." She sighed deeply, trying to dispel the fear from her body. "I thought you were just a dream, but apparently, I was wrong."

"This might still be a dream, princess, and I might just be part of your imagination," you whispered in her ear, purposefully making the gears in her mind spin frantically. "Or I could be real and truly a great danger to you." You could feel every heartbeat, every pulse, and the speed at which the blood flowed through her veins. "But I won't kill you."

"Why?" Her trembling and emotional voice lingered in the air.

"Because you have what I want," you whispered in her ear, moving around her, each firm step echoing through the space as you positioned yourself in front of her once again.

"And what do you want?" Taking a deep breath, she inhales air into her lungs, trying to normalize her breathing and her heartbeat.

A dramatic and deliberate silence envelops both of you, stretching like a veil of anticipation in the air. The subtle sounds of the surroundings seem to fade away, allowing only the echo of her racing heartbeat to be heard.

The soft, diffused light of twilight stretches across the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of golden and orange hues. Behind her, a gentle, diffused light spills over the landscape, slowly dissipating the shadows of the night. Her brunette hair takes on a coppery tone, a dark cascade of shimmering strands, resting on her chest, moving in sync with her erratic breaths. Her pale, delicate porcelain-like skin seems to acquire a soft bronze hue as the copper rays of twilight embrace her fragile and helpless form before you.

"You," your voice resonates like a gentle breeze of relief in her ears, dissipating the unconscious expectations she didn't even know existed.

Slowly, her eyes open, finally discovering what you are like. Her irises, green like a forest during rain, gain an increasingly intense sparkle as she analyzes every detail of your being. A gentle smile begins to form on her lips, almost unconsciously. It's as if all the nervousness and insecurity that consumed her until now dissolve in an instant.

Unconsciously, she lets the book fall to the ground, extending her trembling hand towards you. Her fingers glide smoothly over the fabric of your blouse, sinking into the material until they find the cool skin hidden beneath. Her eyes seem to shine intensely as they fixate on your chest, as if finding a long-awaited confirmation there. It's as if all doubts and uncertainties dissipate in that moment, giving way to the certainty that all of this is real. The tangible proof of your presence, your concrete existence, is beneath her fingertips.

With gentle and careful movements, your hand glides over her wrist, tracing a delicate path until reaching the palm of her hand. The fingers naturally intertwine as if finding their destined place. The warmth emanating from her feverish hand merges with the naturally cold palm of your hand, bringing a warmth that your cold heart has never felt before.

With eyes still locked, Wanda slowly draws closer. Her other free hand glides softly over your chest, an instinctive and silent gesture that seems to invite her to come even closer. In a deep sigh, you draw closer, and your lips finally meet in a soft and delicate touch.

Your lips meet in a perfect fit, like pieces of a puzzle that finally find their missing part. It's as if sin meets the sinner, and light meets the scorching sun in the twilight, the same twilight that paints the sky behind the both of you.

Two completely different souls, each treading their own path, now intertwine in the bright moonlight, merging into a single soul.

You separate your hands, sliding gently over her jaw, deepening the kiss even further. Meanwhile, she traces your neck with her warm hands, in a possessive and affectionate gesture.

The heat of the bodies intensifies, the physical proximity almost painful, as hands explore the contours of hungry bodies. Desire grows in a symphony of muffled sighs, restrained moans turning into murmurs of shared pleasure.

In the dimness of dawn and twilight, you found yourself in your usual spot, nestled in the familiar tree. However, this time, you were sitting with your head resting against the trunk, allowing your fingers to intertwine in her long, brunette hair, cascading onto your thighs. With affectionate and gentle gestures, your hands caressed Wanda's scalp.

The soft and serene moonlight was enough to illuminate the pages of the book Wanda held, allowing her to continue reading even in the darkness. In this tranquil silence, the gentle sound of pages turning and her sweet voice carried by the wind filled the air with the romantic terror of a vampire named Dracula.

𓆩♡𓆪

The imposing windows adorned with white curtains and golden details filled the room with the grace of moonlight, accompanied by the crisp air of a cold autumn night.

Stately pillars rose from the walls, enveloped in a delicate golden hue, exuding sophistication and elegance. The grandeur of the hall was impressive, with a lofty ceiling that seemed to disappear into the heights, where Catholic paintings depicted celestial angels and warriors in a divine battle.

The floor, clear and polished like a gleaming mirror, perfectly reflected the golden light emitted by the chandeliers punctuating the hall. The grand crystal chandelier, majestic and opulent, occupied the center of the hall, emanating a dazzling radiance.

Wanda wore a small diamond tiara delicately positioned on her head, while the moonlight caressed each precious gem. A silky fringe gently rested on her face, gently pushed aside by the tiara's graceful presence.

A generous yet elegant neckline accentuated her delicate collarbone, while the thin straps of the white dress softly rested on her shoulders. Delicate handcrafted embroideries danced along the skirt and around the bodice, displaying patterns and symbols reminiscent of royal heritage. The golden threads, silver accents, and embedded pearls captured the golden light throughout the hall. The dress embraced her figure with a perfect fit, emphasizing her noble and delicate posture.

As her thoughts drifted away to a place she truly wished to be, Wanda finished filling the glass with the refreshing rosy liquid of the punch. Indifferently lifting it to her lips, she took an uninterested sip. Her eyes wandered to the window, lost in a distracted gaze, oblivious to the bustling activity around her.

The wind played among the treetops, gently swaying them. On one branch, a pair of birds nestled together, seeking warmth and comfort amidst the cool breeze. As she observed this simple scene, Wanda found herself immersed in her deepest thoughts, pondering if the problem truly lay within her.

Around her, there were plenty of interesting and genuinely kind suitors, willing to enjoy her company. However, something seemed to be missing, something she couldn't find in those who surrounded her.

No matter how hard she tried to engage with each of them, their interactions amounted to mere empty words. She couldn't even hold a conversation beyond two words without boredom quickly setting in. Something was lacking, someone capable of bringing a fervent passion that would ignite her perfect life, someone she knew exactly who.

"May I have this dance, princess?" A familiar voice broke the silence, bringing her back to reality with a mix of surprise and excitement.

Wanda's arm hairs instantly stood on end, an electric sensation running through her body as a warm and familiar presence approached. Turning to confirm she wasn't going crazy, her eyes widened upon encountering someone unexpected, or perhaps not, dressed elegantly like everyone else around.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asked, her tone laden with surprise.

"How rude of you, princess," you replied, shaking your head disapprovingly as you grabbed a glass and started filling it from the nearby table. "It would be more respectful to acknowledge my presence and accept my request," you added, innocently raising the glass to your lips, a pretense she knew didn't exist, in your voice.

"Are you courting me?" Wanda asked, a curious smile dancing on her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I suppose that's the word, courting," you answered, swallowing the last sip of your drink with an expression of satisfaction. "My beautiful princess, would you accept a dance with this poor soul?" you invited, your intense gaze revealing a mix of desire and longing that couldn't be denied.

"And if I refuse, what will you do?" Wanda challenged, her rebellious princess demeanor intensifying even more.

"I squeezed myself into a corset that's squeezing my tail and all my organs for nothing?" you replied, making a theatrical grimace. "Are you really going to be mean to me, princess?"

"I don't remember inviting you," she retorted with acidity and mischievous innocence playing on her plump, rosy lips. "The exit is to the right."

Wanda spun on her heels, leaving the glass on the table and heading towards the dance floor where everyone was gathered. It was a silent invitation for you to follow, and like an obedient puppy, you did.

You couldn't resist the impulse to follow her scent, to watch her wide hips sway and her glossy, toned legs shine in contrast to her pale skin under the orangish light of the palace. Though there were several other girls around, equally well-dressed as her, none of them were her. None of them would ever be your princess Wanda.

Bodies of princesses and princes danced poetically to the sound of classical music echoing from the king's private orchestra. The violins, bass, drums, guitars, and flutes resonated throughout the palace, filling the air with a grand melody that made the floor tremble beneath your feet.

Wanda glanced back as she slowly walked towards the center of the ballroom, making sure that you were indeed following her. A deep laugh escaped her lips as she noticed your eyes fixed on her legs and hips. When she caught your attention on her face, you winked in a flirtatious manner, without any sign of embarrassment for being caught.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the ballroom, she sighed deeply, feeling the scent of masculine and feminine perfumes blending in the air, and soon after, she felt your warm presence behind her.

"I thought you'd be uncomfortable here," Wanda murmured, turning to meet your gaze.

"I'm just making sure the royalty is having a good time tonight," you replied, placing your hand on her hip and pulling her close to your body. A soft moan escaped her lips, but without protest, she rested her hands on your shoulders and locked them behind your neck.

"You truly are a gentleman," she said, rolling her eyes with flushed cheeks, allowing the music to flow through her body.

"A gentleman ready to rescue the princess from the evil villain," you stated, swaying your bodies to the rhythm of the orchestral music that surrounded them. Subtle and warm touches were exchanged at her waist, your fingers pressing with enough firmness to feel her skin beneath that delicate, thin dress. "Or I could be the villain who kidnaps the princess, the choice is yours."

"Being kidnapped by you would be much better than staying here," Wanda teased, shaking her head. "Doing something more interesting..." She glanced away with a mischievous smile.

"You know I don't always need to be hungry to play with you, don't you?" You let out a deep laugh, tightening your grip on her waist and making her look back at you. "I can do whatever you want, just ask me."

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, accentuating her round, rosy cheeks. Her long, dark eyelashes fluttered gently, emanating innocence. However, behind that angelic expression, a mischievous gleam appeared in her green eyes, shining intensely under the golden light of the palace, revealing a silent request that only you could understand.

"Do you want this, princess?" you ask, leaning closer to her ear. "Do you want to be a vixen in the midst of all these people?" You whisper each word slowly into her ear.

"Yes, please," she sighs.

"As you wish, Your Highness," you whisper in her ear. A beam of red magic plunges over your eyes, completely painting her irises and dilated pupils.

Sinking your hand beneath the delicate fabric of her dress, you slide your hand between her thighs, holding her waist firmly. A mischievous smile forms on your lips as you feel the warmth and wetness that moisten your fingers. Carefully, you push aside her delicate satin panties, sliding three fingers over her closed slit, and in response, a deep, throaty moan escapes her lips. She gently rests her head on your shoulder, seeking support and security. Her hands grip tightly around your waist, holding on with strength and seeking stability.

The music of the orchestra gradually became a mere murmur in her ears, while her mind was wrapped in a fervent and exciting intensity. Your seductive aroma delicately penetrated her nostrils, and the sweet melody of your voice chilled every inch of her body. They surrendered unreservedly to the burning passion that enveloped them.

"Your Highness you are a mess." You whisper softly in her ear, as you gently slide two of your fingers into her folds. Gradually, her juices begin to trickle over your fingers, letting little droplets fall onto the shiny wooden floor.

Wanda lets out anguished, whimpering moans against your ear, feeling your thumb caress her clit sloppily. The deliberate slowness almost makes the sensation painful, causing an intense mix of pleasure and torment to her mind.

"Do you want something majesty?" You ask with devotion, but a feigned innocence. "You need to tell me what you want."

"I... I" She lets out a moan followed by a deep sigh against your ear, her legs trembling with small involuntary spasms. "I need you..." The words come out in a whisper laden with desire and urgency.

"You need me...?" You ask cynically, your fingers working on leaving her in rags. "You're a slut aren't you? You want me to have you here in the middle of all these important people who never look at you the same way again." Your voice takes on an acidic tone, echoing the awakening of your dark side. Your inner monster manifests itself, taking over your body and inflaming your soul. The fangs you used to hide now emerge from your canines, pressing their sharp points against your lower lip.

You were never good. You fed on the desperation of others, finding pleasure in the agony you caused people. To see someone beg and suffer at your hands was ecstasy for you. And that's exactly what Wanda was doing, giving in and surrendering her noble body to you.

"Come on princess, beg for what you want." Your husky voice whispered against her ear, enveloping her in a cloud of burning desire. Every part of her being is imbued with the seduction and magic of a succubus. Your captivating voice, the enveloping aroma, the fatal appearance and your warm skin... Everything conspired to lead Wanda's mind into the valley of the temptation and manipulation of a succubus.

"Oh fuck, yes." She moans, her dress sticking to her hot, sweaty body. "Please, I need you, I need your fingers inside me." Her fragile, needy voice is like a sweet melody to your ears.

You withdraw your fingers from her clit, but soon push them into her warm, moist hole. Your index and little finger slide against her swollen folds, while you begin to slowly stretch her with your middle and ring fingers.

The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, drowning out the orchestral music that had long since been forgotten. Wanda's moans escaped her throat like howls, rubbing against her teeth and reaching directly into her ears like music.

Wanda's mind was no longer here, she was so drunk with pleasure that she didn't care about anything anymore. She didn't care if anyone saw, didn't care if her father or her mother saw her being consumed by you. She desperately needed you to make her cum, she needed to release this pressure on her stomach, she needed to break free from the bonds she had always been taught.

She longed for more than being a queen stuck with housework and caring for a handful of children while the prince explored the world outside. She longed to be the protagonist of her own adventures, to explore the horizons beyond the limits imposed by her royal title.

You had a deep conviction that inside Wanda's body dwelled a rebellious princess, just waiting for the right opportunity to reveal herself. A princess determined to rule the kingdom in a unique way, without bowing to the wills of princes or kings. You believed that all the inhabitants of the kingdom would one day bow down before the feet of your true queen, Wanda Maximoff.

And like a good soul devoted to your princess, you knelt before her and gave her what she so desired. With one of Wanda's legs resting on your shoulder, you plunged your fingers even deeper, taking advantage of the perfect angle. Your tongue caressed her clit with skill and speed. An intense moan escaped Wanda's lips, echoing through the palace, as her angelic voice mingled with ecstatic moans.

"Please, more... I'm so close!" pleads Wanda, gripping her hair tightly for support, as her legs are so sensitive that, without your hands holding her thighs, she would have fallen to the ground long ago.

Slowly, raising your face to observe her closely, a sensation overwhelms you. Your chest palpitates uncontrollably at the heavenly vision in front of you.

Her slender, delicate neck, stretched backwards, was bathed in the bright, golden light from the large chandelier in the middle of the hall. Her defined jaw, which displayed an elegant and striking bone structure, and her subtly visible laryngeal prominence trembled slightly with each moan that escaped her lips. Her hardened nipples rubbed against the fabric of her dress, while her breathing was ragged. Her cheeks flushed and the golden makeup smeared, dripped over her reddened skin, the result of the intense heat that took over her face.

A primal feeling comes over you as you notice the pulsing veins on her neck, and the smell of her excitement fills your senses. You brought your face closer, pressing your nose against the warm skin of Wanda's neck, feeling the rapid pulsation of the blood in her veins, you continued to stroke her with your fingers.

"Come to me, princess," you whispered, as you moved closer to her neck, feeling your mouth salivate and your sharp fangs take hold of your canines.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as your fangs penetrated the delicate flesh of her neck. The sensation was the fuel needed for the orgasm to burn in her stomach and for her to release.

When your fangs penetrated deep into her skin, a stream of blood gushed into her mouth, flooding her with its metallic taste. Your lips closed around her neck, enveloping it with a pleasurable suction, greedily absorbing every drop of the precious noble blood you so craved.

Waves of pleasure coursed through Wanda's body, relieving all the tension built up in her stomach. When you withdrew your fangs from her flesh, Wanda, exhausted and trembling, rested her head on your shoulder, sighing with a satisfied smile.

"That was good, wasn't it?" you asked as you pushed Wanda's shoulders back, trying to look her in the eye. With your tongue, you wiped away the blood that was still present at the corners of your lips.

Wanda's eyes slowly opened, and she smiled as she looked at you. The sound of applause echoed through the palace, filling the room. Wanda's face blushed slightly, as if she remembered the situation they were in, but soon realized that the applause was directed at the orchestra, which had just finished another one of their beautiful songs.

Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise, Wanda's eyes narrowed as she looked around, searching for any sign of recognition. It seemed like no one had noticed what had just happened. Not even the other members of the royalty who were close to her seemed to have noticed. She turned her gaze back to you and found a victorious and proud smile on your face.

"Don't worry, princess, no one noticed you daydreaming," you wink at her, releasing her waist and stepping back, turning to leave. Taking advantage of the wave of applause and the attention focused ahead where the orchestra was, you suggest, "If I were you, I'd go to the bathroom to clean up this mess." Your words are thrown as you turn only your face to her before disappearing into the crowd in the hall.

Wanda shook her head, still processing what had happened. Her eyes widened as she felt a pulsation in her intimacy, and a viscous liquid began to trickle between her legs. As she put her fingers on a painful spot on her neck, she noticed a few wet drops on her skin. Lowering her finger, her gaze fixed on a small droplet of blood dripping from her index finger.

A strong wind blew through the windows, gently swaying the white curtains and caressing Wanda's flushed face. She turned her head and briefly caught sight of a reddish tail swiftly passing through the curtains, fading into the darkness of the cold night. A smile illuminated Wanda's face as she remembered the first time she felt your hair between her fingers, the second moment she saw you crossing the window when you consumed her for the second time, and the third true encounter in the garden. Now, on the fourth occasion, under the bright moonlight, Wanda felt that her heart belonged entirely to you.

#Wanda maximoff #Wanda smut #Wanda x reader #Wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff smut #Wanda maximoff fanfic #marvel imagines

[outofgloom]

EYES

The first thing you noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from Outside, beyond the gate. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched beneath your feet and the feet of your companions as you marched along the track which wove between the many dunes.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt. The fore shaded his eyes against the diffuse light in the sky ahead and looked further down the track into the great shallow bowl of Karda.

“We are near,” he said, moving back up the path now and opening his pack. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied, bracing against the wave of weakness which followed mask-removal. The fore-Matoran went down the line and placed a semi-transparent object into the visor of each mask, indicating to replace the mask afterward.

When he reached you, you asked: “What is its purpose?”

“Unknown,” the fore said. “Replace your mask.”

You complied. It was a lens of some kind, covering your eyes. Perhaps a dust-shield. You got used to it quickly, like it wasn’t even there.

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The Central Construct was vast: a shimmering shape at the heart of the desert. Protometal ribs rose into a sphere-like form, joined by horizontal crossbeams at regular intervals. The lower two-thirds of the sphere were already complete, and a web-like scaffold ringed the Construct, allowing access to the upper levels.

Sparks showered from the welding points around the scaffold, and there was a sound of tramping feet as pallets of newly wrought protodermis were marched up the circular ramps. Cranes lifted and distributed other materials for the workers to use in the construction.

You were stationed on the north hextant of the scaffold, one of the many welders who worked tirelessly to build up the Construct’s outer shell. A grid of metal lines filled the space above you, feeding out the safety-line that attached to your own harness. Below, the inner shell was visible, mostly complete at this point: a dense weave of struts and metal plates which concealed the interior of the Construct. Very soon, the inner shell would be entirely enclosed by the outer. Perhaps another ten cycles, you estimated.

The tone rang in the air, signaling the rotation of workers. You leaned back from your welding and looked it over. The new beam was fixed in place, ready to hold another set of shell-plates. You secured your tools, checked the safety line, and stepped across the gap, back onto the scaffold beside you. The next shift was already on its way up the ramp. Your group would now return back through the gate in order to rest.

Too late you saw the flaw in the protometal beam beneath the one you had just added. It bent suddenly under the strain of the newly-added structure, and its hard edge cut clean through the scaffold you were standing on. A cascade of snapping pins and rods followed, and you were falling down, down through crisscrossing metal into the dark space below. 

Your safety-line went taut, as it was designed to do, and decelerated you abruptly a bio before you hit the ground inside the Construct. Tools and other debris clattered and rang on the hard surface below, and your mask came off with a pop as the air was forced from your lungs. Then you were just hanging, suspended, and your heartlight was beating very fast. 

Voices echoed down, and there was a commotion as additional braces were pounded into place and spot-welded. You were the only one that had fallen. They would reel you up any second now.

Your mask lay on the ground below you, out of reach. The floor was polished silver, running up in a smooth arc to meet the wall just in front of you. The wall had a mirror-finish; you could see your reflection in it. And behind you, the rest of the space opened up into

The rest of the space opened up into

The space opened up into

Opened up

Opened up into

Eyes

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The first thing you noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from Outside, beyond the gate. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched beneath your feet and the feet of your companions as you marched along the track which wove between the many dunes.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt. The fore shaded his...eyes...against the diffuse light in the sky ahead and looked further down the track into the great shallow bowl of Karda. Then he looked at you.

“We are near,” he said, moving back up the path now and opening his pack. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied, bracing against the wave of weakness which followed mask-removal. Except you. Your mask was already off, for some reason. The fore-Matoran went down the line and placed a semi-transparent object into the visor of each mask, indicating to replace the mask afterward.

When he reached you, you asked: “What is its purpose?”

“Look at me,” the fore said. “Look at me.”

You didn't want to. You grabbed at the lens in his hand.

“I need that,” you said. “Give it to me.”

“Look at me,” he said.

You managed to snatch the lens away from him at last. You placed it into the visor of your mask, and slapped the mask back on your face.

“Look at me,” he said.

The lens wasn't fitting right. You pressed the mask harder. It was too...reflective. Not transparent. It reflected your eyes back into...into your eyes. Into your eyes.

And behind the reflection of your eyes there was something else, off to each side. It was moving and moving and looking at you. It was trying to pry its way around the sides of your face, around your eyes.

Look at me.

You pushed harder.

Look at me.

You pressed your face against the mirrored surface, but you couldn't shut it out.

It moved and moved and looked at you with eyes and eyes and eyes and

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The cable-reel whirred to life, and the line coiled up bio on bio, loop on loop. The damaged scaffold had been reinforced, and a medic-Matoran had already been summoned. Work had ceased all around the Construct, and the faces of many workers looked on as the operation proceeded.

Bio on bio, loop on loop the line came back. Slow but steady, the cable piled up on the reel, and at last, you appeared. Straight up out of the inner shell you came, still wrapped in your harness, up to where the pulley was affixed above the scaffold, and many hands reached to haul you in.

The medic set to work immediately, checking limbs and joints and heartlight. Another Matoran stepped forward quickly. It was the fore-Matoran. He stopped in front of you, and his eyes widened.

“Your mask?” he asked.

There was a moment of silence.

“Your mask,” he repeated, gesturing. “Is it still below?” He pointed down toward the inner shell.

I nodded slowly.

“And your tools, did they cause any damage to the interior?”

I shook my head.

“Very well.” He turned to the medic. “Injuries?” The medic indicated no damage. “Good,” he continued. “You will not need to be replaced.”

“Thank you,” I thought, then realized:

“Thank you,” I said with my mouth.

The harness was still tight around my waist. I realized this when they loosened it, and the sensations I had been feeling–pain, pressure–began to lessen. They helped me down the ramps, down to the ground. The fore was there ahead of me, along with the rest of my work group. He had retrieved a new mask for me. He immediately placed it on my face. The rush of energy felt...good.

The next shift was already starting at the top of the scaffold again, repairing the damage and moving forward. Simple as that. We would return to relieve them on the next cycle, apparently. For now, it was back into the desert, back to the gate.

I looked forward to it.

∵∴∵∴∵∴∵

The first thing I noticed was that the sand of Karda was not like the sand from the Outside–the real Outside, where I had been born, before They stuffed me in here with these Matoran to mindlessly regulate Their dials. It was all grains of pulverized crystal. It crunched nicely beneath our feet as we marched through the dunes. The other Matoran didn’t really appreciate it like I did though.

Ahead, the fore-Matoran stopped beside a stone marker and signaled a halt, then he looked further up the track out of the great shallow bowl of Karda, as always.

“We are near,” he said like clockwork, moving back down the path now. “Align yourselves and remove your masks.”

Everyone complied. Even me, though I didn't like the weakness that followed. The fore went down the line and carefully removed the semi-transparent objects that had been fixed in the visor of each mask, placing them back in his pack.

When he reached me, I asked: “What was its purpose?”

The fore stopped and squinted at me. “...Unknown,” he said slowly.

“Would you like to know?”

“Replace your mask,” he said after a confused moment, “and avoid redundant questions.”

I complied. Wearing a mask was new to me. All of this was, really, but I was getting used to it. I was malleable like that. I was made that way.

The gate was ahead. Soon I’d be out. Very soon, and then…

My mind flicked back for a moment, back over the crystal-sand, back into the metal shell, the metal prison that They had built for me, back into the wet writhing thing there that was Me, and I heard the thoughts of the other mind I’d left in my place while I was away. 

Obviously you were not made for this. You were trying feebly to move your too many limbs, trying to look out through your too many eyes.

But in the polished silver space, there was nothing to see. It was mirror all around, reflecting and refracting, so that all you could see was you…me…you. All you could see was–

“Eyes,” you were saying, or thinking rather. “Eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes.” You had…I had…You had no mouth, after all.

Just eyes. Eyes everywhere, all around.

“Eyes eyes eyes eyes,” you were thinking.

You are thinking it right now. 

Don’t worry. I just need to stretch my…legs, yes. See the scenery. I won’t be long. They’ll find me out sooner or later, and then They will send me back, I expect. To tend the dials again.

“Eyes eyes eyes eyes.” 

I know, I know.

You’ll get used to them.

#bionicle #art #writing #fanfiction #outofgloom #works #tren krom

[thorsenmark]

Mountains in Southern Oregon on a Flight out of Medford by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: An airplane window view looking to the north while on out of Medford, Oregon. What I wanted to capture with this image was the view of mountains that I had been amongst for the past few days. This just happen to be in Oregon, but I had experienced quite a few wonderful views in California earlier in the week. I initially let the camera set a focus for this setting, but I then made manual adjustments with the lens ring in order to bring more of a focus that I’ve found is sometimes required for a view looking through an airplane window.

#Airplane Window View #Azimuth 348 #Blue Skies #Blue Skies with Clouds #California and Oregon Road Trip #Cascade Range #Crater Lake Area #Day 10 #DxO PhotoLab 5 Edited #Flight MFR to PHX #Flying over Oregon #Jet Airplane #Long Mountain #Looking North #Looking Outside Plane Window #Looking out Airplane Window #Looking out the Airplane Window #Miscellaneous #Mountain Peak #Mountain Peaks #Mountains #Mountains in Distance #Mountains off in Distance #Mountainside #Nikon D850 #Oregon Cascades #Pacific Ranges #Partly Cloudy #Plane Window #Project365

[mapsontheweb]

Mountains in the Contiguous U.S. by Rise Above Surroundings / Jut

by u/Gigitoe

Jut is an indicator I developed to quantify how sharply/impressively a mountain rises above its surroundings, factoring in both height and steepness. A mountain with a jut of X rises as sharply/impressively as a vertical cliff of height X. Roughly speaking, the higher the jut, the "bigger" and more imposing a mountain appears.

Some things to note:

Jut hotspots (places with the most impressive mountains) include the Cascade Range, North Cascades, Glacier National Park, Grand Teton National Park, Yosemite National Park & Central/Southern Sierra, and Mount San Jacinto. The highest jut in the lower 48 is measured atop Mount Rainier (jut = 1312 m), a massive stratovolcano in the Cascade Range of Washington.

Even though the Colorado Rockies have a high elevation, they have a lower jut than some other mountain ranges in the West, as they rise from a high plateau. The Grand Canyon in Arizona has similar local rise as the highest peaks of the Colorado Rockies, despite having a much lower elevation.

A point with a jut of 10 – 100 m is perhaps more aptly described as a hill. Points with a jut below 10 m do not rise significantly above their surroundings, so they were not included.

Mountains in the rest of the world can have a significantly higher jut. The Matterhorn in the Swiss Alps has a jut of 1451 m. Aconcagua in the Andes of Argentina has a jut of 1827 m. Mount Everest has a jut of 2211 m. The North Peak of Denali in Alaska has a jut of 2549 m. Annapurna Fang in Nepal, the apex of the biggest mountain face on the planet, has a jut of 3395 m, the highest in the world.

This visualization was made possible with Google Earth Engine, MERIT DEM, GeoNames, and QGIS.

#maps #Gigitoe #us #mountains

[catboybiologist]

If as a name Sierra doesn't work out have you thought about Grand-Teton?

If I'm running down mountain ranges in North America, night as well go freaky with it and just call myself Cascade

[onehikeaweek]

#picket range #west twin needle #north cascades national park #twin needles #stephen mather wilderness

[turtlesandfrogs]

"These trees are the Pacific Northwest’s iconic western redcedars (Thuja plicata). 

To many Indigenous peoples, who used the trees for houses, clothes, weapons, tools, medicines, art and canoes, they’re known as the Tree of Life."

"The government report cites previous research showing that by the end of this century the western redcedar’s range is likely to disappear at lower elevations west of the Cascades and will disappear almost entirely from eastern Washington, shifting north and eastward into the Rockies in Montana and Canada."

"Western redcedars, which aren’t as good as many other trees at slowing water loss during warm and dry conditions, seem to be especially vulnerable to droughts, and the researchers’ findings point in that direction. 

The major climate event impacting the trees, say the researchers, has been the drought. 

According to the U.S. Drought Monitor, which is cited in the report, both Oregon and Washington have been in some form of drought since the start of this century.

To be sure, the two-decade period included both wet and dry periods.

But lack of precipitation alone doesn’t define a drought. Which is why the monitor, and scientists generally, use more complicated metrics that track factors such as soil moisture as well as heat and drought stress on plants, all of which are affected by warm temperatures.

Temperatures over the two-decade period were warm, trending higher than previous decades—leading to dry soils and stressed plants. Buhl says this longer trend helps explain what’s happening to western redcedars."

Source:

#not good #climate change effects

[majesty-madness]

A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x Reader (nsfw)

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Word Count: 5000+

Warnings: scared Bucky, flirty 40's!Bucky, small 40's!Steve, brief angst (if you squint), another movie reference (cheers to anyone who finds it), awkwardness

a/n: Somewhat proofread & edited. Also I tried to keep Bucky and Steve in character based on the bits and pieces we see them acting like normal people in The First Avenger. I got stuck a few times so I really hope at least someone enjoy this.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

They were in the middle of the fight when off to his right, he saw a black hole appear into thin air, casting a blue-orange light against the concrete floor and walls. 

After he knocked out the last HYDRA soldier, Bucky’s eyes shifted to the black hole only to see it wasn’t quite a black hole. 

He could see inside it and the moment he could, Tony flew right through it and crashed into the wall behind them.

Then he turned his attention back to the black hole and soon saw Tallis kick himself up from the ground and strike Y/N into her side causing her to stumble back. 

And before she could recover from it, Tallis swiped her legs off from under her body, making her body start to fall back. 

Bucky opened his mouth to yell her name, but the closing of the black hole stopped him from doing so and now he could no longer see her. 

Panic began to rise within his chest when not even a minute later, he heard her yell, “He took off, I’m currently chasing him down, heading your way, Cap!”

Steve promptly responded back, “Be careful, he could lead you into another ambush!”

Only a few seconds passed, and before they even knew what happened they heard a grunt, like someone had just been tackled then nothing else. 

It was only static. 

The team made quick work of all the HYDRA agents that came out of the woodwork, and Cap spoke over the radio again. 

“Sound off.” 

“Natasha.”

“Tony.”

“Bucky.”

“Sam.”

“... …”

“Y/N?” They heard Cap say. 

“Y/N, you there?” 

Nothing. 

Bucky, and Sam exchanged looks of worry before Bucky looked at Tony who had stood up. “Where is she?”

“Friday, scan the area for any last known locations on thermogenic signatures.”

He paused right where he was as his A.I. scanned the entire building they were in, including the sublevel basements. 

Then a small blip of a sound rang out from Tony’s helmet before Friday spoke. “Last known location on thermogenic signatures is 600 feet North of your position.” 

Bucky sprinted in that direction, leaving Tony and Sam in his dust. 

His heart pounded against the wall of his chest, sweat collected on his temple, and he could feel the fear tingling up his spine. 

The echoing sound of his rapid footsteps bouncing off the concrete walls did nothing to distract his thoughts from the sick sensation clawing into his stomach.

When he reached, what he guessed was 600 feet, the spot in which Tony had called out, his heart fell to the floor. 

She wasn’t here.

His blue iris’ danced about the tight intersection of the hallway, connecting four ways, trying, hoping to find some sign of where Y/N could be and came up absolutely empty. 

Several pairs of footsteps, and the sound of bootjets rushed down the hall in a cascade of noises converging together. 

Bucky didn’t need to look up to know that Steve was now in front of him, shield held tightly in his hand. 

Every single one of them looked down to the floor, following Bucky’s gaze. His gaze so fixated on the one spot on the ground that it looked like he was attempting to will Y/N to appear right before their eyes, but they knew better. 

He felt nauseous, utterly sick, borderline terminally ill. His throat grew tight, it was getting hard to breathe, and a heavy pain grew inside his heart. 

Barely audible, he whispered a single sentence. 

“Where are you?” 

________

It couldn’t be. 

How was it even possible?

Tony’s words from earlier rang through her head.

I believe they are quantum particles, and they are faintly warping the atoms of this time.

Was Tallis able to manipulate time and space?

That seemed to make the most sense, Tallis had traveled through time in order to escape and for some reason that escape led to the past.

“Ma’am?” The younger version of Bucky asked. 

Y/N snapped out of her stupor staring over to him, seeing his eyes filled with concern. She realized then that they were still standing in the middle of the road. 

She took a few deep breaths, trying to gain control of her body back from the shock. “Uh what?”

“I asked if you were okay…” He replied, briefly looking back to the car. 

Y/N still stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times as she tried to force her brain to work. “Y-yeah, I think so…”

“Is she okay?” Another familiar voice asked as another male jumped out of the car. He rounded around to the front as well standing just behind Bucky, and there was Steve.

Y/N had to stop the gasp from leaving her throat when she saw Steve so small and skinny. She rationalized that it must be before Bucky went to war and before Steve got the serum. 

Somewhere before 1943. 

“You’re bleeding.” Steve pointed out, his eyes drifting up to her temple. 

She reached up and felt around her head, hissing in pain when her fingers glided across the spot that Tallis had side kicked her. Pulling back her hand, there was the obvious smear of blood over her fingertips. 

“Right. He hit me…” Y/N mumbled out without meaning to. 

The tension skyrocketed as Bucky took in a sharp inhale and Steve gave him a knowing look. 

“Did someone hit you?” Bucky asked, voice pinched. 

That made Y/N focus up; she couldn’t let them know about Tallis, no she had to tell them something else, something believable. 

LIke a switch, Y/N went into ex-SHIELD agent mode. 

“Yeah; I was walking through the alley..” she gestured behind, “And this guy jumped him, tried to take my purse. I fought back, but he ended up hitting me during the struggle and took off with my bag.”

“Do you want us to take you to the police?” Steve asked kindly. 

“No!” She blurted out loudly causing Bucky and Steve to flinch. 

She cleared her hoarse throat from all the fighting and running around. “No, there’s nothing they could do anyway. I didn’t even see his face.” 

Bucky took a look around, a question forming in his mind. “Well, is there anywhere we can take you? Like family or maybe a friend's house?”

Shit. 

She had to think of something fast so she replied with what came to mind first. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have any family or friends here. I was just visiting New York; wanted to see what it was like.” Y/N nervously laughed as she tried to play off the lie. 

At that moment, Bucky’s mood did a 180 and he grinned at her. “Well I’m sorry your first visit ended with you being mugged. Despite what people say, Brooklyn isn’t so bad.”

“I’m sure it's great,” She grinned back, watching as both Steve relaxed when Bucky did. “But anywho, I probably should get going. I don't want to keep you in the middle of the road.”

Y/N began to step away, but Bucky stopped her. “Wait, didn’t you say your bag got stolen? You gonna be able to find a place to stay without your purse?”

“Oh my god, you’re right.” She closed her eyes for a brief second as she realized that he was correct. Sort of. 

She didn’t have a purse with her to begin with, and she wasn’t a tourist wanting to see the city. However, she most certainly was not going to be able to stay someplace with money. 

Though she doubted even if she had money, it would’ve been useless considering money in the 40’s looked very different from the money in 2016. 

Most likely scenario, she’d be arrested for suspected counterfeit.

“You know…” Bucky began, “if you’re okay with it, you could always stay with us until you get back on your feet.” 

Y/N’s eyes lit up and not because she was excited. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. I’ve already been so much trouble for you two, I wouldn’t want to impose.” She frantically explained away, fiddling with her hands as she did.

Steve stepped forward that time, a gentle look in his face. “You wouldn’t be imposing, it’s the least we could do.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky quickly agreed. “We did almost hit you with a car.”

“To be fair, I stepped out onto the road.” Y/N retorted playfully. 

Steve smiled at the retort while Bucky chuckled. “Regardless, you could probably at least use some place to sleep; maybe clean yourself up.” He gestured to the dried blood on her head. 

“I- “ She started, but the grumbling sound coming from her stomach caused her to clamp her mouth shut. 

“Why don’t we talk about it over dinner? There’s a diner a couple of blocks down; Steve and I were heading that way anyway. So what do you say?” Bucky suggested kindly. 

Y/N tucked her arms across her gut, heat blooming in her cheeks in embarrassment. “Uh..sounds good.”

Bucky beamed at her response, already backtracking to his car. He reached out to the door handle and pulled open the back passenger side. “Why don’t ya hop in and we’ll be on our way.”

All Y/N did was nod, making her way to the back and smoothly slipped into the seat of the car, leaving Bucky to close it shut for her. 

Soon Bucky got back inside the driver's seat and Steve was quick to follow in the front passenger side. A few seconds later, Bucky turned over the engine and music began to play from the radio. 

It sounded as though a song had just ended and a man began to speak. 

“That was ‘Green Eyes’ sung by Jimmy Dorsey, here! Live in New York City. Next are the Andrew Sisters singing a real toe tapping tune; ‘The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy!’”

Then the sound of trumpets played rapidly followed by three female voices. “He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way. He had a boogie style that no one else could play.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull as she immediately recognized the song.

It was by pure chance. 

It reminded her of those early afternoons at her grandmother’s house when she was a kid. Her grandmother loved the song and explained it was because of how fast paced it was, she even had it on a rare vinyl record with a record player to go along with it. 

Wait, when was her grandmother born again? Is she even alive right now?

Y/N thought to herself as her eyes focused on the passing buildings. A lot of them had the same rustic look, seemingly old and forgotten. However, every once in a while she'd see a shop with a bright sign, begging people to just step inside. 

The notion of extravagant signs pulling people to come visit wasn’t unfamiliar, though most of the older buildings back home looked just as shiny as the new restaurants and stores so they all blended together in a plain blur. 

But here, one can very easily tell which was open for business for the night and as they made their way down the street, briefly stopping at a traffic light, Y/N peered outside to see a growing crowd of people going in and out of one particular diner. 

Many of the people grouped together, several couples having their arms wrapped around each other as they laughed along with their friends. 

It made her think of-

“That’s the diner I was talking about.” Bucky motioned outside his window.  

Her eyes flicked to him as he spoke then returned to the crowded restaurant just as fast. “It sure is busy.” 

“That’s how it usually is on Friday nights.” Bucky casually addressed, turning the car left into a big open parking lot. 

Okay, so it was a Friday evening sometime before 1943. 

Y/N rolled her eyes at the realization since there were indeed many Friday evenings in the 1940’s; a specific year and month would be nice. 

Bucky smoothly pulled into a parking space then turned the car off, pulling the key out to put it into his pocket. 

“You think we’ll be able to get a seat?” Steve asked, staring out at all the people.

“I’m sure we’ll figure out something.” Bucky reassured as he gripped the door latch to push the door open. 

Steve didn’t add anything else while he followed Bucky’s lead to get out.

Y/N stared down at the door handle for a moment too long for her liking before figuring out how it worked; pulling the latch then getting out too. 

Immediately they all strolled up to the front of the diner, and stepped inside. The laughter of the numerous patrons overwhelmed her hearing for a second, seeming like a thunderous boom causing her to cover her ears.  

Her eyes darted for the floor while keeping her ears covered. She tried her best to look where she was going, but she ended up bumping into Steve having not realized he had stopped walking when Bucky paused in the middle of the aisle. 

“Sorry..” She mumbled out, hoping Steve heard her. She knew he had when he gave her a polite nod. 

“Hey!” Bucky shouted over top of the crowd, “there’s a booth right back there!” 

No sooner had he said that did he continue walking forward, Steve and Y/N following him. 

They arrived next to the booth quickly and when they did Y/N was the first one to slide into the seat. Bucky gestured for Steve to sit down first and then he too, slid in next to Steve. 

Y/N began to twiddle her thumbs as she waited for a waiter to come by. Her leg bounced up and down when she saw that a waitress was heading toward them, but got distracted with another table that had motioned for her. 

“I never caught your name.” Bucky said, loud enough for her to hear. 

She perked up. “Oh it’s Y/N, Y/N L/N.” 

Bucky then extended his hand out toward her. “I’m James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” He winked at her, causing a sudden warmth to rush to her cheeks. 

He retracted his hand and then gestured next to him. “This is Steve.” 

“Steve Rogers.” Steve stuck out his hand.

Y/N shook his hand too. “It’s nice to meet you. Both of you.” 

“So what I mentioned earlier..” Bucky started but Y/N interjected. 

“I know you offered me your place to stay and I do appreciate that, but you don’t really even know me that well.” 

“Yeah that’s true, however, I can’t just walk away knowing you have nowhere to go.” Bucky insisted. 

She glanced away from him for a second, contemplating what to say when he spoke up again. 

His face had taken on a sudden serious expression, voice no longer playful. “If you’re worried that we might…” he gestured between himself and Steve, “try something with you, you know, you don’t have to worry because we’re not like that.”

“No, we’re not.” Steve said adamantly, shaking his head as if to further prove Bucky’s point.

“Oh no, I’m not worried about that!” Y/N reassured them, waving a hand at the idea. She knew better than that. “The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. It’s just…are you really sure?”

“I’m positive.” 

“I know I keep harping on the subject, but if I stayed with you, I couldn’t pay you.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but the waitress that had previously been busy finally walked over, a pen and paper in hand. “What can I get you three?”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries, and a coke.” Bucky answered, his attention fully on the waitress. 

She scribbled down what he said before her eyes flicked over to Steve’s small figure. 

“I’ll have a cheeseburger too; pickles on the side, with fries and a coke, please.” 

The waitress then turned her attention to Y/N, however, her bored expression shifted into one of confusion. 

Y/N immediately caught onto the change and quickly realized what it was about her that made the waitress make such a face. She gazed down at herself realizing that the skin tight battle suit (much like Natasha’s) looked definitely out of place here. 

But she didn’t comment on it, only letting out an airy scoff, to herself as she thought of a reply. “Um..I’ll just have what he’s having.” She said, briefly pointing to Bucky. 

The waitress just kind of nodded, not knowing what else to do as she slightly back tracked away from their table toward the diner’s kitchen. 

When the waitress was out of earshot, Bucky coughed. “As I was saying; you don’t have to pay me. That’s not why I offered, alright?” 

“Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have someplace to sleep tonight.” Y/N finally agreed with a jerky nod. 

Bucky sent her a quick nod. “Well there ya go, now let’s get onto a much less serious topic. Where are you from? You said you were from out of town.” 

“Uh..Ohio.” Y/N blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“That’s a bit of a ways from here. Did you ride the bus? Or did you drive yourself?” Steve asked, becoming more interested in the conversation. 

Y/N faced Steve. “Oh I rode the bus; it felt like it took forever.” 

“I’ll bet. Which town did you grow up in?” Bucky continued to ask about her life. 

“There’s this small town called Knockemstiff. You two ever heard of it?” 

Bucky and Steve shook their heads. “Can’t say we have.” 

Y/N waved a hand at them with a bashful laugh. “I’m not surprised, it’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere.” 

God, listen to me. I’m just making this all up. She silently scolded herself as she lied to their faces; which a part of her felt guilty for. 

There was a pause, leaving the three to listen to the racket of the other customers while Y/N wracked her brain.

“Um, were you born here in Brooklyn?” Y/N asked Bucky. 

He smiled. “Yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life with my mom, dad, and younger sister.”

That bit of information made Y/N perk up inquisitively. “You have a sister? What’s her name?”

Bucky grinned at her question. “It’s Rebecca, she just turned nine last month.” 

“That’s nice. I don’t have any siblings of my own, but when I was younger I always wished I had.” 

“Even though it’s just her, Becca can be a handful.”

Y/N nodded knowingly. “I bet, girls can be just as rambunctious as boys at times.”

Bucky laughed fondly as he thought about his sister. “Once she gets comfortable with you; she’s usually shy in front of people.” 

“I think that’s with every kid.” 

Y/N smiled albeit awkwardly before she focused her attention back to Steve. “What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

Steve shook his head. “Unfortunately no. My mom and dad only had enough time to have me.” 

“Oh, why’s that?”

In a small insignificant motion, Steve briefly made eye contact with Bucky whose expression dropped a little and then took a deep breath as he shifted in his seat. 

It was obvious to Y/N, from her years of being an agent, that Steve was slightly uncomfortable with the question, but he began to answer her anyway. 

“Well let’s just say that they barely had the means to care for me and themselves, let alone another kid. Then some years later, dad joined the army, got killed and eventually my mom worked as a nurse in the T.B. ward. She did that for a while before she caught it, then died some years ago.” 

Y/N’s face fell, saddened by the story of Steve’s life. She was aware that Steve did exactly have a glamorous life growing up, but she never knew that it was so lonely. 

Had she not been looking at Steve she would've seen Bucky staring her way, gauging her reaction to Steve’s story. 

It wasn’t that he thought she would speak ill towards him, but there were times when Steve had shared something about himself when a girl joined them for whatever reason and the annoyance coupled with slight resentment permeated their eyes. 

It really irked him. 

Yeah, he loved the girls but if they couldn’t stand his best friend, he couldn’t stand them. 

However, he was pleasantly surprised with Y/N. 

Her expression was endearing, eyes soft, and mouth pinched in sympathy; not a hint of irritation. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

Steve shook his head. “That’s alright. Luckily though, I had my best friend.” He nudged Bucky’s side causing him to smile. “I couldn’t have gotten through it without Bucky.” 

“What are you talking about? I’m your only friend.” Bucky snarkily commented. 

Steve rolled his eyes at him as he rested her arms on top of the table. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at them, even now they seemed so close; like brothers. 

“Well you know,” Y/N began hesitantly. “If all goes smoothly, maybe we could be friends too.” 

As soon as the sentence had left her mouth, she felt as though she were intruding on their friendship and was unnecessarily inserting herself into something private. 

That thought was dashed though when she saw Steve’s pleased features. “I would like that.” 

She smiled back at him, a relief chuckle leaving her mouth as her eyes flickered to Bucky. He was already looking at her with the same kind of face. She could almost describe him as happy. 

He looked so handsome when he was happy. She wished she could see more.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Bucky voiced excitedly, glancing between Steve and Y/N. 

For the rest of dinner, Bucky and Steve continued to ask her questions about her life and she reciprocated in kind. 

A lot of the information that they shared were things that she already knew seeing as how she was dating Bucky and close friends with Steve in 2016. 

But she had to admit, hearing about their lives in this time, in this setting, did make it feel like the first time. 

She only hoped that she wouldn’t let herself get too carried away with the two boys, she knew things about them that they hadn't told her yet and she needed to keep her distance. 

It might be Steve and Bucky but it wasn’t her Steve and Bucky. 

They couldn’t know the truth of why or how she was smack dab in the middle of Brooklyn. 

Once the three finished their meal, they all got up from their booth and left. Though not before Bucky left the money for the meal on the table top. 

Y/N immediately took note of the warm night air rushing over her skin. She recognized that it had to be somewhere around Spring or Summer. New York was never warm unless in the weather of those two seasons. 

The ride back to Bucky and Steve’s shared apartment was met with an odd sort of silence.

Regardless of the fact that they had spent a majority of the night getting to know each other (again), Y/N still wasn’t ready to completely let herself relax in their presence. 

Somehow she had to keep the gap between them so she wouldn’t hurt them when she’d return to her own time. At least, she hoped she could return to her own time. 

Luckily the silence didn’t keep up when Bucky turned down an alleyway, slowly moving the car forward as he looped to a back lot where other cars were parked. 

The moment Y/N got out of the vehicle, she memorized every single step up to Bucky and Steve’s apartment. 

She memorized the sound of the squeaky front door of the apartment complex, the ding of the elevator, the clicking sound of the button when Bucky pressed the number five on the panel, the sound of their footsteps as they trekked down the tiled hallway. 

Everything. 

It hadn’t been something she consciously did; her brain just did it. Every intricate and unimportant detail she was committing to memory like somehow she’d need to refer back to it later. 

“Here we go, home sweet home.” Bucky said, pushing open the wooden door. 

He stepped to the side, letting Y/N walk in before him and Steve and carefully watched her as she walked out into the middle of the living room. 

Barely ten steps in and Y/N could make out near the entire apartment. 

The living room in which she was standing had a single couch pressed into the wall to her right with a small coffee table sitting in front of it. To the couch’s right side was a fabric covered chair and a tall lamp sitting between them. 

A couple of feet back behind the lounge chair was a dining table complete with four chairs and another lamp to light that section of the room. Along that side of the apartment’s wall, next to the dining table was a window that overlooked the street down below. 

Connected to the same room as the dining space was a compact kitchen. She turned to face that direction, seeing a simple but clean kitchen. 

It looked like a narrow hallway almost; on one side you had the refrigerator in the corner, some counter space next to it, then the stove and oven beside it. On the opposite wall was the sink with a shelf hanging above it. And on both sides were cabinets lining the wall. 

Off to the left of the kitchen was, from what Y/N could make out, the bathroom; the wooden door half open to reveal a sink and mirror. 

Her eyes traveled the expanse of the apartment, over Bucky and Steve’s figures as they stood by the closed front door. Eventually her eyes came across two open doorways which could only be their bedrooms. 

Despite the small size of the place, it was rather quaint. 

“We know it’s not much but it’s home.” Bucky suddenly said, hands in his pant pockets. 

Y/N whipped her head back to the boys who had been waiting for her to get a feel for the apartment. 

“I like it.” She admitted fondly as she took another look around. 

She didn’t see as the two men exchanged surprised looks. Steve was the first to step forward. “Really?”

“Yes, it looks homey.” She beamed, finally turning to face them. 

Her response made both of the boys grin at her then to each other. Bucky, lifted his hand to scratch at his temple, bashfully making his way over to Y/N’s side. 

“Glad you like it.” 

Y/N took another few seconds to take it all in then she sighed contently, looking up to Bucky’s towering figure. “Could I bother you for a change of clothes? Sleeping in this suit is kind of...”

“Oh, of course. Just give me a minute.” Bucky quickly walked off, disappearing into one bedroom sitting closest to the living room. 

Y/N and Steve stood in quietly, keeping their focus on something other than each other but they did end up making eye contact a few times and awkwardly smiled at one another to possibly ease the tension. 

The sound of rummaging clothes was the only sound in the apartment besides the cars on the road near fifty feet down from their current location. 

It hadn’t been too long when Bucky walked out of his room with a folded white shirt and a pair of striped pajama pants in hand. “Will these work for you?”

Y/N softly took them from his hands. “Yes, these should do just fine. I’m just gonna go change in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, please go ahead. Do what you need to do.” Bucky kindly offered while watching Y/N already making her way to the bathroom. 

Once she closed the door to the bathroom and switched the light on, the tension in her shoulders sank down and out from her body. This was the one moment she finally had to herself. 

She tossed the extra clothes to the edge of the sink, gripping the porcelain with both hands. She let her head hang low, eyes staring at nothing while she tried to focus on the beating of her own heart. 

Her mind raced through everything that happened up to this point: fighting Tallis, accidentally getting teleported back in time, having dinner with Bucky and Steve before her parents were even born, spending the night in their apartment. Y/N wondered if she’d be able to process it all. 

Could this be one of those vivid dreams where the world around her felt real? 

On that thought, Y/N lifted herself up to see her slightly dirt covered cheeks and temple covered in dried blood. 

She looked tired, damn it, she was tired. Most of the day, Y/N spent fighting HYDRA and then Tallis. 

Stupid Tallis. 

With a shake of her head, Y/N grabbed the towel on the nearby rack, holding it under the faucet of the sink to run it through water. Once wet, she dabbed a corner of the towel over the cut on her head and wiped the skin clean. 

Over the next several minutes, Y/N spent shifting out of her skin tight battle suit and into Bucky’s pjs. However, she couldn’t keep the pants on as they were far too large that they wouldn’t even prop awkwardly around her waist. So she left them off. 

Luckily, the white shirt hung just above her knees, long enough to cover the most intimate parts of her. 

A shrug of her shoulders then Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. She saw Bucky and Steve stand to attention when the bathroom door squeaked open, but what followed made her cheeks heat up. 

Steve had taken one look at her and awkwardly coughed, turning his thin body away from her. And Bucky’s deep blue eyes couldn’t look away from the alluring sight of Y/N’s exposed legs. 

What Y/N had considered fairly tame must’ve been very scandalous to them. 

“Uh…the pants were too big.” Y/N explained, beginning to fidget where she was standing. 

Bucky then shook his head, blinking rapidly to break himself out of his thoughts. “Th-that’s okay, whatever makes you comfortable.” 

She nodded, trying to bury her embarrassment as she pointed to the couch. “I uh..I can sleep on the couch.” 

“Oh no, that’s alright-” “You don’t have to do that-”

“You can sleep in my bed.” 

Bucky and Steve paused as they turned their heads to look at each other, both their faces hardened with expressions that’d only be described as ‘seriously, dude.’ 

Y/N’s eyes grew wide upon hearing them both say the same thing, and a hearty laugh made its way up her throat. 

That caused the boys to whip their heads back to where Y/N stood. “I appreciate the offer, from both of you, but I can’t sleep in both beds at the same time.” 

“Right, that would be impossible” Steve tried to joke, a little shyly. 

She could tell Bucky was trying to think of something to sort this out, so she suggested an idea first. “You could try ‘rock, paper, scissors’?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Bucky smirked then directed his attention to Steve. 

The pair held their hands up, one hand laid out flat and the other a fist. They looked at each other with dead seriousness, out of place for the game they were about to play. 

“Rock, paper, scissors!” Both said, fists beating against the palm of their hands before resting at the end of the chant. 

Bucky had laid out paper and Steve, rock.

Y/N watched Steve exhale in defeat as Bucky smugly sauntered to his bedroom doorway. “This way, if you please.”

She bit her lip to suppress yet another laugh bubbling in the back of her throat while hurrying into Bucky’s room to hide her face. 

Bucky stood in the doorway for a couple more seconds with Steve half-heartedly glaring at his best friend. 

The tall man sent Steve a shit eating grin and a small wink causing Steve to nudge his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

Then Bucky laughed as he turned to walk inside his room, Y/N already standing next to his bed. 

He’d be lying if he said wasn’t picturing a much more explicit scenario but he forced it out of his mind when Y/N turned towards him. 

“It looks cozy.” 

“It can be, but it gets a little chilly in here at night.” Bucky said, coming up to grab the top of the comforter and pulling it back. “But these blankets are thick so they should keep you warm.” 

She nodded, keeping her gaze elsewhere as he was only a couple inches away from her. “Thank you, I appreciate this.” 

“No problem, hope you get a good night's sleep. Oh, and if you need anything I’ll be out there on the couch.”

They both stood there for a couple of seconds before Bucky realized that he should probably leave her alone. “So anyway, uh…Good night.” 

He took a couple backwards steps then grabbed the doorknob ready to leave. 

“Hey Bucky?”

She’d never seen him perk up so fast, his blue eyes focused on nothing but her. It nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. “Yeah?”

“I want to seriously Thank you, a-and Steve, for everything you’ve done for me. You don’t know me and you two really went out of your way so, thank you.” 

He smiled for the hundredth time that night (was it because he liked her or he was just a cheery guy, who knows), “You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

“You too.” 

Softly, Bucky closed the door with a soft thud, leaving Y/N to ponder on her own. With one more once over of the bedroom in its entirety, she moved the thick blanket back some more to slip under it. 

The material was softer than she expected, a fact which she was happy about. Then she carefully rested her head against the squishy material. 

She took a small breath, letting her body completely succumb to the plush surface of the bed. 

Now the exhaustion finally set in, washing over her every nerve ending and bone in her body. Only her mind was functioning, and the last thing on her mind was of the Bucky she knew from her own time. 

The Bucky that had been through war, torture, and so much devastation. 

She missed him so much. 

a/n: All I have to say is, thank you for making it down this far.

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