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fullsunstrawberry · 1 year

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nct dream reaction: having a wet dream about you

warnings: suggestive but doesn’t go into too much detail

{nct dream masterlist}

a/n: this as been stuck in my drafts for way to long… not one of my best :( but i still wanted to post it

permanent taglist: @vvsmydiamonds127 @erin-calling

mark:

would not look you in the eyes

he practically goes missing

he just feels so guilty

you’re good friends with all the guys and he doesn’t want you to think of him any different

you have to bribe johnny to tell you where mark is

he told you locked himself in his room

but before you can go confront mark

johnny tells you to wear something sexy with a wink

this confused you even more!!! wtf is going on

you listened to johnny and wore a low cut shirt

you barged in his room already complaining about how he was ignoring you and how much it hurt for him to avoid you

“are you even paying attention?”

when he didn’t respond, you noticed he was paying a little too much attention…not to what you were saying but to your chest

you were getting a little annoyed but weirdly turned on

“take a picture, it will last longer”

“for real, can i?”

renjun:

this boy would be STRESSING OUT

he knows you’re cute

but he never looked at you in a sexual way

so why is his dreams messing with him

the next time he would see you, unlike mark, he would watch your every move

he wouldn’t shy away from you, until you try to make any sort of physical touch

then he would freak out

you noticed how weird he was acting so you suggested having a little drink

just to loosen up a little bit

well a little bit turned into a lot a bit

he ended up telling you about the dream and you pushed him for more details

“ you think we can recreate it?”

jeno:

he would feel so guilty

when he woke up from a dream about you

he would feel disgusted at himself

not because he didn’t like it… but because he liked it a little too much

the whole day he would be grouchy

until the guys kept texting you and asking you what’s wrong with jeno

so you decided to head to the dorms to figure out what’s wrong

but he was the same jeno you always see, smiley and cuddly

it wasn’t until you guys were cuddling you noticed he was starting to get hard

“jeno, are you okay?”

“fuck, i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable” he groaned while trying to separate himself from you

when you pulled him back he was shocked

“i never said i was uncomfortable”

haechan:

you would think he would stop flirting with you..

but his flirting wouldn’t stop

usually when you would flirt back he would tease you

but now when you flirt back he blushes

then he goes silent

you would know something is up because THIS BOY NEVER STOPS TALKING TO YOU

when you confront him, he would make so many excuses

he has practice and can’t talk

hes too busy stuffing his face with food

he’s in the middle of a game

you have to corner him and border-line threaten him to tell you what’s wrong

when he wouldn’t look at you in the eyes and kept saying stuff about dreams is when it hit you

“did you have a wet dream about me or something?”

“WHAT NO WHY WOULD I HAVE A WET—“

you cut him off “aw that’s to bad” and winked at him while slowly moving away from him

“Wait! um what if i did?”

jaemin:

saw this coming

you two always flirt

EVERY SINGLE DAY

he basically expected you to show up in his dreams

but he wasn’t going to outright tell you!

the only person who knew about jaemin’s little secret was jeno

and jeno was TIRED

so in a game of never have i ever, jeno pulled out the big guns

“never have i ever had a wet dream about one of my friends”

you and jaemin made eye contact before you both took a sip of your drinks

jeno laughed and went to his own room, his job here was done

“was it about me?” you asked

“of course, who else would it be about”

chenle:

this boy is done with life

the first time you sleep over his house

he has a wet dream about you

what is he? a prepubescent boy?

when he heard you calling his name and felt your hands shaking him

a little too real to be dreaming

he shot up and hoped that he didn’t say anything in his sleep

when he got a good look at your face he felt relieved

you looked worried and not disgusted

he was about to come up with a lie before you started laughing at him

“did you have a good dream? it sure sounded like you did”

chenle always has some smart ass response but right now he was left speechless

“you know i can help you?”

Jisung:

you two are close, like VERY CLOSE

best friends who share everything with each other

so when he had a wet dream about you

he simply ask you if you had ever had a weird dream with him

you didn’t really know why he was asking this until you saw how he was blushing

so you pushed him to tell you more about the dream he had about you

when he finally broke and told you he had a wet dream about you, you laughed

you didn’t get the big deal because you can’t really control what happens in your dreams

but when you say how jisung was blushing and how he was starting to get hard, you decided to take things to the next level

you always found jisung extremely hot

“do you wanna make your dream a reality?”

#nct dream #nct dream x reader #chenle #haechan #jaemin #renjun #jeno #mark #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream reactions #nct dream smut reactions #nct dream hard hours

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talkdutchtome · 6 months

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Glitch- chapter seven (18+)

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

warning . . . this chapter contains smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, very slight fdom -blink and you'll miss it-, if you don't want to read the smut there is a border where it starts and finishes so you can skip it )

a/n . . . i think this chapter might make some of you mad but this is a love triangle fic, it's going to be a lil messy, like me. i promise we'll be back to what you like for chapter 8. feedback is always appreciated, i love to read all of your thoughts )

“No”

Max’s words swirled around Y/N’s head long after he had left. She had asked him if he wanted to come in and he just said no. He didn’t say “I’d love to, but I can’t tonight” he didn’t even say “Thanks but I don’t think I want to, let's take things slow” he just said “No”. Quicky followed up by “Okay, Bye”. She was completely dumbfounded, stood outside her flat; as Max's abrupt departure replayed in her mind, each step he took away from her feeling like a punctuation mark to their strange encounter.

The second she found herself in her flat, the uncorked bottle of wine sat on her kitchen side, beckoned to her, and without much consideration, she filled a glass to the brim. The rich red liquid seemed to mirror the swirling thoughts in her mind, each sip a bitter-sweet reminder of the unexpected turn of events. Tonight was going so well; she didn’t understand what went wrong.

She replayed the encounter in her mind, trying to dissect what had just happened. She felt upset, a sting of rejection cutting through her. Yet, there was also frustration—why couldn't Max have communicated his feelings instead of abruptly walking away. If he didn’t want to take it further, obviously she wouldn’t be mad at that, she’s not a monster; but he could of at least spoke to her about it rather than just walking away.

The room was softly lit, and Y/N continued to sip her wine, lost in her own thoughts. The wine was becoming both a friend and an escape, pulling her further into a comforting haze. The recent complications weighed on her, each sip a fleeting attempt to numb the complexities swirling in her mind.

With each gulp, she dove deeper into her contemplations, navigating through the messy tangle of feelings. Life, once simple, now felt like a puzzle missing a few crucial pieces. The familiar sounds of laughter and joy were replaced by a haunting silence, broken only by the occasional clink of the glass against the table and the distant hum of the city outside.

The glass became a conduit for her musings, carrying the weight of her thoughts as she pondered the unexpected twists, the encounters that left her head spinning, and the undeniable shifts in relationships. Everything seemed burdened, complicated. As the night wore on, the glass emptied, and her thoughts grew hazier. Eventually, the weight became too much. She remembered sinking into the cushions of her sofa, the glass slipping from her fingers. Sleep claimed her, the complexities of life blending into dreams until the room was wrapped in a deep, velvety darkness.

The next few days passed, and the day of the first Chelsea game of the season quickly rolled around. As Y/N prepared for the match, the uncertainty surrounding Max lingered in her thoughts. The absence of any communication since the peculiar end to their evening left her grappling with a myriad of unanswered questions. She couldn’t bring herself to messaging him first, after all she was left with quite the bruised ego when he left like he did; so, the silence from Max had become a palpable void, and she started to accept the possibility that she might never receive the answers she sought.

Dressed in her favorite Chelsea shirt, with Mount 19 proudly displayed on the back; she made her way to the staduim, trying her best to push everything she felt about Max down to the pit of her stomach so she could be in the right frame of mind to not only support Mason but the whole team.

At Stamford Bridge, the buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Y/N took her seat in the family box, surrounded by the sea of Chelsea blue. Beside her, Louisa, Ben's girlfriend, struck up a conversation.

"Did you ever find out what was wrong with Mason that night at the gala?" Louisa inquired, her eyes fixed on the pitch as the players warmed up.

Y/N shook her head, her gaze following the familiar figure of Mason on the field. "No, I tried asking the next day, but he wouldn't say anything. It's been a bit weird since then."

As the game kicked off, Y/N found herself immersed in the ebb and flow of the match. The energy in the stadium was electric, and emotions swirled with each pass and tackle. Chelsea was facing Liverpool, a formidable opponent, and every moment felt charged with anticipation.

The clock ticked away, and tension mounted as both teams vied for control. Then, a surge of jubilation erupted through the stands. Mason had scored, his name echoing through the stadium as fans erupted in cheers. Chelsea took the lead, and the scoreboard displayed a triumphant 1-0.

Amidst the celebration, Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Mason's goal was a bright spot in a narrative that had become increasingly complex, and as the final whistle blew, sealing Chelsea's victory, for once Y/N just let herself feel happy; freeing her momentarily of the stress of day to day life. Her team had just won a very important game, and her best friend was the reason for that.

The vibrant cheers echoed through the stadium as Chelsea celebrated a hard-fought victory against Liverpool. Mason, the star of the match, was awarded the title of man of the match, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she made her way down to the pitch to assist him with media obligations.

Amid the chaos of jubilant players and buzzing journalists, Y/N found Mason, his face adorned with a triumphant smile. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, offering a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. The elation of the win permeated the air as they navigated through the sea of celebrations.

Once Mason had spoken to seemingly every media outlet in the UK and was ready to head to the changing rooms, the rest of the team had been and gone. Anticipating this, Mason invited Y/N to come in with him as he got ready rather than her waiting outside for him.

Mason was midway through changing when Y/N decided to seize the quiet moment and address the lingering tension from the gala. Maybe there would have been a better time to do that rather than when Mason was stood shirtless only wearing a pair of football shorts, but Y/N was never one for picking her moments well.

"Mason, what was wrong with you the other night? You seemed so sad." she ventured, her tone a mix of firmness and concern.

Mason, in his usual deflective manner, offered a unconvincing, vague explanation about being stressed. But Y/N, remembering the promise they made after their tumultuous encounter in Spain, was determined to dig deeper.

"Come on, we promised each other after Spain that we would be more open," she reminded him, the charged atmosphere subtly drawing them closer.

He glanced at her, the defensive facade momentarily faltering. The seconds ticked by, intensifying the electric tension between them. Y/N, her voice now a gentle yet insistent whisper, pressed on.

"Tell me, Mason. I need to understand," she implored, their faces now only inches apart. As he sighed, wrestling with his internal turmoil, Y/N's hand found his, pulling him back towards her. Their proximity became palpable, both aware of the unspoken emotions lingering in the air.

"It was hard, okay?" Mason finally admitted, breaking the silence. "Seeing you with Max, all close and flirty. It messed with my head."

The confession hung in the air, a vulnerable admission. Y/N, her voice nothing more than a whisper, continued her quest for understanding.

"Why would that be hard for you?"

Mason, caught between the desire to retreat and the need for honesty, hesitated. Y/N, sensing the gravity of the moment, held onto his hand, their connection unspoken but profound. Their eyes locked, and Mason slowly, almost hesitantly, began to lean down, his eyes never leaving hers and his hands coming up to cradle her face. Time seemed to stretch, the anticipation building with each passing second.

Then, all at once, his lips met hers in a kiss that held the weight of unspoken emotions. It was a collision of feelings, a dance of two souls navigating the uncharted territory of their connection.

As their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, it was as if the world around them slowed down. Mason's touch was gentle, almost cautious, as if he was testing the waters of Y/N's response. His lips moved against hers with a delicate grace, and for a moment, the kiss hung in the air like a fragile connection.

But as Y/N's hands found their way into Mason's hair, threading through the strands, the nature of the kiss shifted. The softness gave way to a growing passion, a shared desire that couldn't be contained. Mason, feeling the response from Y/N, allowed himself to be pulled into the depths of the kiss. It became more than a simple meeting of lips; it turned into a dance of longing and unspoken emotions.

Their connection deepened, and the kiss became more fervent, more desperate, as if they were trying to convey all the unspoken words and unexpressed feelings through the intimacy of the moment and quickly things progressed with Y/N breaking their contact to pull her shirt over her head, leaving her stood there in just a Chelsea blue bra and skirt she wore to the game.

For the first time since he kissed her, Y/N made eye contact, gone were his soft, honey coloured eyes, replaced by dark orbs staring down at her. It was like he was trying to take a mental image of the woman standing in front of him, lips swollen and parted, very slightly panting from the breathlessness that came from kissing him.

A second passed where the pair just stood in front of each other, almost as if they were giving each other one last chance to back out before things went beyond the point of no return. The silence was deafening and after a beat they reattached themselves to each other, with Mason pulling her onto him as he backed up onto a bench and sat down, bringing her with him onto his lap. His lips finding her collarbone as his hands grabbed her ass. The way his expert lips sucked and nibbled her neck sent shockwaves through her body and she found herself grinding herself against his lap, desperate for anything that would help the dull ache coming from between her legs, eliciting a low moan from the man beneath her.

It was evident the effect that Y/N was having on Mason from the growing hardness that she could feel under her, and when she removed herself off of his lap and dropped down to her knees Mason had thought he had died and gone to heaven. For the first time since Mason had kissed her, one of them spoke, “Is this okay?” she asked him, her hands hovering just above the place where he needed her the most, prompting him to nod his head ferociously. “Yeah it’s good”

With that conformation, Y/N settled herself between his legs on the floor and began to place soft barely-there kisses down his stomach until she reached the waistband of his shorts. Mason was squirming, she hadn’t even touched him yet, but she seemed to have full control of him, something he had never experienced before. The second that Y/N’s hands went to lightly tug at his shorts, Mason was lifting himself of the bench, allowing her to pull down his shorts and underwear in one go.

The sight of Mason’s dick slapping his stomach as his shorts were pulled down was one to behold. Y/N would be lying if she said she had never imagined this, put one thing she never considered was that he would be this big. She watched the way it throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the way a bead of precum spilt from his tip. And then in a move that made Mason whine, she placed her hands at the base of his dick, and darted her tongue out to catch the droplet. The taste of him was musky, almost sweet; and the most addictive thing she had ever experienced. She went in again, very slowly placing her mouth around his tip and swirling her tongue around it.

“Oh fuck Y/N yo-” Mason’s voice was deeper than she had ever heard as he called out for her, but when she took him further in her mouth, his voice gave out. His hands found her hair, grabbing in into a makeshift ponytail as she continued to bob her head up and down on his dick, swirling her tongue as she did so.

It was becoming all too much for Mason, the sight of his best friend on her knees for him, making him feel this good. He quickly found himself close to cumming, but not wanting this to be over, he used his grip on her hair to gently pull her off of him.

“That felt so good baby, but I don’t want to cum yet” he told her when he caught sight of her pouting at the loss of contact.

“I need to be inside of you Y/N, need to know how you’d feel squeezing tight against me” His words were sinful, and they made her desperate for him. He stood up, grabbing her hand to bring her up from her knees to before gesturing at her to sit down in the place he had vacated. Then he dropped to his knees, placed her legs over his shoulder and moved the fabric of her skirt out of the way, letting him see her soaked through panties.

He dived in, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on her clothed pussy, running his finger ever so gently across her, before hooking it under her underwear and pulling them off. The sight of her cunt, glistening and wet made him again, wish he could take photos with his mind. Never wanting to lose this image for so long as he lived.

“Please Mase” Y/N spoke, her voice breathy and desperate.

Mason didn’t need to be asked twice, bringing his mouth to her, licking a long strip across her slit before attaching his lips to her clit. The way he sucked at and nibbled her sensitive bud made her see stars. And when he brought his hand up to start pumping his fingers inside of her whilst still attacking her clit with his mouth, she quickly found herself close to the edge. His expert fingers curving up to her, making her legs tremble and her toes curl.

“Oh Masey, I’m so close please don’t stop” she whined in between heavy breaths. At her words, Mason sped up his actions, bringing her closer and closer to cumming until she finally reached her climax with a squeal, trapping Masons head between her legs as she squeezed them together in the sheer exstacy she was feeling.

Once she had released her grip on the man's head, he came up to kiss her, the kiss was needy and desperate, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was utterly filthy, and she never wanted it to end. If she could, she would stay in this moment with Mason forever, wrapped up in him and their pleasure, nothing else. Nothing complicated or uncomfortable, just simply pleasure.

Mason pulled himself off of her lips and took his place back on the bench, swiftly pulling her onto his lap. His manhood nudging itself against her warm core. His lips reattached themselves to her neck, suckling and biting; leaving marks peppered against her skin. He pulled back and admired his work, admired how good her skin looked littered with his marks, the way it made her look like she was his, she was only his.

“I’m going to fuck you now, is that okay?” Mason said, reaching for his hard dick beneath her, pumping it in his fist, prompting Y/N to nod her head frantically, desperate for him. “No baby I need words, tell me you want this” He spoke again, wanting to be sure that this is what she wanted, wanting to be sure that she wouldn’t regret this.

“I want this, please Mason I want this so bad” she told him, becoming desperate, her wet cunt clenching around nothing in anticipation.

So, Mason did what she asked, and lined up his cock to her pussy, gripped her hips and brought her down onto him; strings of moans and cries falling from both of their mouths as he began to stretch her. Wanting to take control, Y/N placed her hands on Masons chest and began to ride him, grinding down onto him after each bounce. Mason was quickly becoming unglued, the way that that best friend bounced on his dick, clenching around him made him go crazy.

Y/N quickly found herself becoming closer and closer to the edge, and when Mason started to rub circles on her clit, she fell apart. Calling out for the man beneath her as she came on his dick, her cunt squeezing him tight. The sight of Y/N reaching climax meant Mason was not far behind. He spilled out inside of her, filling her up with his cum as he kissed her deeply, moaning into her mouth.

For a second, he stilled inside of her, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath. She kissed him one last time before getting up off of him, feeling his cum run down leg as she did so. She tried to find something to say, anything to say; but she came up with nothing. What could she say? What did this mean? The cloud of lust had dissipated and the gravity of what just happened began to sink in.

After they had come down from the high of the moment before, the air hung heavy with an unspoken tension. As they both processed what had just transpired, a palpable awkwardness settled between them. They found themselves in a silent ballet of getting dressed and composed, each movement filled with uncertainty. The room seemed to echo with the weight of the unspoken. In a fragile quiet, they avoided eye contact, unsure of what to say or how to navigate the aftermath of their unexpected moment together. The atmosphere became a canvas painted with uncertainty, the seconds ticking away in awkward silence.

It was in this vulnerable moment that Ben casually strolled into the changing room, unwittingly disrupting the delicate balance that lingered in the air. "Where've you two got to?" he asked, sensing that something unusual had occurred. Mason responded a little too quickly, "Just got to talking. Lost track of time."

Ben eyed them with a confused look, sensing there was more to it but deciding not to pry. "Well, we're going out for a few drinks to celebrate the win. You two coming?"

Mason nodded, "Yeah, I'll come."

Y/N, still caught in her own thoughts, didn't immediately respond. Ben noticed her distraction and asked, "What about you, Y/N? Coming for a celebratory drink?"

She hesitated, glancing at Mason. "I, uh, I've got some work to do," she started, realizing it was a flimsy excuse.

Ben raised an eyebrow, "Work? On a match day? Come on, just one drink."

Caught in the moment and not wanting to draw more attention to herself, Y/N reluctantly agreed, "Fine, just one drink."

The bar buzzed with celebration as the team and their partners reveled in the victory. However, amidst the cheerful atmosphere, an undeniable tension lingered between Mason and Y/N. It wasn't the palpable anger like last time; instead, it felt like an uncharted territory of discomfort, as if both were uncertain of how to address the recent shift in their relationship.

Y/N found herself sitting in a sea of voices, yet she remained silent, her gaze fixed on her drink, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavily. Ben, ever the most observant yet oblivious man in the room, couldn't help but notice a string of subtle marks on Y/N's neck, a telltale sign of a love bite. With a mischievous grin, he couldn't resist teasing her.

He grinned, "Looks like someone had a good time. Max, huh? You guys enjoy yourselves?"

The question hit the room like a sudden chill, drawing Mason's attention. His jaw tightened, and he clasped his glass a bit more firmly, an expression of annoyance flickering across his face. Reece, seated nearby, picked up on Mason's reaction, his eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation by offering a half-hearted explanation. "Oh, that's just a burn from my hair straightener."

Ben, persistent in his teasing, pressed further, noting, "But you have naturally straight hair, don't you?"

Y/N squirmed under the spotlight, feeling the discomfort escalate. "Well, I straighten it every day," she mumbled, her attempt at normalcy faltering. Before Ben could continue his line of inquiry, Y/N's phone rang, offering a timely escape from the awkward conversation. She quickly grabbed her phone, signalling a temporary reprieve from the scrutinizing gazes and the unspoken tension between her and Mason.

The night air felt cool against Y/N's skin as she stepped outside and glanced at her phone, revealing Max's name on the screen. She felt her stomach drop at the sight of his name across her screen; she had accepted that she wouldn’t hear from him again. Hesitating for a moment, she considered not answering, still stung by the abrupt way he left.

Eventually, she sighed and pressed the answer button. "Hi," she greeted cautiously, uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Can we talk?" Max's voice, though warm, carried an undertone of hesitation.

Y/N swallowed, the remnants of hurt and confusion lingering. Nevertheless, she nodded silently, a tentative "yes" escaping her lips.

As Max began to unravel his thoughts, Y/N listened, her emotions swaying with each word. "I'm sorry," he confessed, a heavy sigh preceding the admission. "I panicked that night. I've been bouncing around, one meaningless nightstand after another, and I don't want us to be like that. All I wanted was to stay with you that night, but I want more than just a moment. I want us to be more than that. These feelings make me uncomfortable and weird, and I'm so unsure about everything in life. Except for one thing – I'm sure I want you."

Tag list-

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cloudninetonine · 5 months

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The Player and the Dollmaker

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry I haven't been as active for the past few months! Life and just general stuff got into the way, plus I've been feel extra anti-social :') But I'm gonna try and get back into the swing of things!!!

This story is based on my friend @next-hero-in-line's awesome new oc, the Dollmaker and by @batrogers's amazing fanfic based on said oc!! The Dollmaker for anyone who wishes to read it!

Warnings: Bad language (as usual to Player), blood/gore, temporary character death, reversed character death, hinted at a slighter darker Hyrule(?), also probably a lot of spelling mistakes I've been struggling with sleep lately piuhgfpiuf

Hyrule’s timeline was…something.

You were expecting it, truth be told, playing the very first Legend of Zelda game came with not only a huge reality check but the rude residents of the traveller’s Hyrule that had you close to tossing your device from the frustration of their snide remarks and coldness. With the troubles that brewed in the depths of the land, you couldn’t really blame the population- but there was no need to be snarled at for simply asking for directions.

“Mark my fucking words,” You growled, tugging at the material of your hood as you wondered through the village, monologuing to yourself like some crazed villain. “Mark them, goddesses, because trust if one of these nasty arse villagers sasses me again it’ll be between them and you.”

Yeah, you were not happy. Having to deal with the terrible crowds all day, your levels of cranky raised to the max and you were not about to deal with another one of these terrible people- even all the children were damn brats!!!

And to top it all off, it was raining, just perfect.

Huffing, you turned another corner, boots squelching against the mud of the (once) dirt path as you made your way back to the village outskirts, the camp resting deep within the crooked woodland that bordered the homes. You could catch the silhouettes of cloaked figures just by the bushes, speeding up your pace the slightest bit with your face relaxing from your raged scowl to a relieved smile.

Splitting up was not something you were fond of, especially in Hyrule’s land but with his flaming reputation with the locals that only further engulfed that of the Chain’s when they had first been seen in public with him would have been worse than just being seen as a weary traveller looking for some food and shelter. The stories of him being chased out of towns, to having rocks tossed his way and worse- you wanted to slam your fist into the nose of the first (definitely not) innocent bystander.

How could they treat their hero like this? Expendable? Like dirt beneath their boots? God, you hated it.

But, unfortunately, there wasn’t quite much you could do, was there?

You raised your hand, a yell at the tip of your tongue as you got closer to the cloaked heroes only for a sudden body to walk ahead of you, walking out from between the homes and right into your path- your yelp their only indication of their mistake as you bumped right into their side and had them near tumbling to the floor.

You were lucky this adventure had gifted you with faster reflexes.

“I’m sorry!” Your hand quickly grabbed their wrist, tugging them back up to a standing position before they could collapse into the mud. “I’m really sorry- are you okay?”

You caught bright blue eyes before anything else- well, eye, the other covered by her lucious, midnight purple locks- her hood did well to hide her features but that you could make out. Not many in Hyrule had quite striking attributes as she did and your mind rolled the many franchise characters in your mind in a curious search to see if she was familiar-

But no, you didn’t recognise her.

The woman blinked, studying you for the moment but her pretty pink lips stretched into a smile.

One you didn’t like.

“Hello.” She grinned with teeth as she once again looked you up and down. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You wretched your hand back like her skin was hot metal, keeping it protectively against your chest as you went to take a step back. “Pardon?”

“You were looking for health items in town.” She clarified, still smiling and still very disturbing before your eyes. “I have just the thing.”

Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home- “Oh? And- uh, what’s that?”

Your heart skipped in relief when she dug into the back hanging from her shoulder, plump with her own items and quite loud as she rummaged through until she made a small sound of victory and then proceeded to produce a…a doll. Her eyes looked over it proudly, her eye sparkling with a glee that made your stomach churn in a nervous rut, watching as her nimble fingers quickly straightened out the little toy’s clothing before handing it over to you- all the while still grinning that same smile she had been for the past few moments (had she even breathed?).

“For you.” Her voice was near giddy but still laced with her eerily calm demeanour. “A good healing item.”

“Uhhh, how much…?"

She giggled, airy and light. “A ‘thank you’ will suffice.”

Common sense had always told you not to take things from strangers, especially creepy ones that emerged from dark alleys with smiles that read trouble, eyes like a predator’s that shone with a lust for violence and blood- but, with a quick glance to your companions still waiting just ahead you felt the need to hurry this exchange so that you could return and be rid of this whole damn day.

So, managing to force a grateful smile, you accepted the item. “Um, thank you.”

You held back a cringe when her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

Your eyes fell to the doll in your hands and you felt the air harshly exit your lungs, mouth a slight gape as you caught the familiar stitched face staring back at you.

“This-” Your eyes raised to meet…nothing. Nada. Zilch. Body twirling frantically to search for the woman who had once stood before you, face still stricken in slight horror before you let out a breath from your nose. “Typical.”

Gently, your thumb ran over the careful thread of the doll, taking in the very obvious features of yourself: your cape, your tunic with it’s gold accents, your hair and the discolour buttons for eyes, stitching of blue running down its face to its stubby little arms and a smile to top it off. Yes, this was you indeed and you knew exactly what this was.

“One up…?” You muttered, feeling dread settle on your shoulders.

Why would you need a one-up?

Your hands shook, thoughts racing through your mind as you continued to stare down at the small doll with anxiety bubbling in your gut. Was this a warning? Your fate decided? Were- were you close to death? Or did this Dollmaker find of your existence and wish to merely meet you? You weren’t quite sure, uncertain if being left in the dark was better or worse about the future with this item-

A hand came to rest over yours and your eyes flew up, meeting the frightened ones of Hyrule. Eyes of brown clashed green stared back into your own, pupils pin pricked with a similar fear to your own before he let out a breath and pushed the doll to your chest, his voice a soft whisper.

“Put it away.” He gently squeezed over your knuckles. “Don’t think about it- I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hyrule-”

“It’s okay, I promise you.” He managed to smile at you, not quite reassuring but soft nonetheless. “Nothing will happen.”

You looked at him with apprehension. “...Link, I’m scared.”

His face hardened, eyes shining with a determination that you had seen time and time again. “I will protect you.”

…You couldn’t fight his words, you knew from his tone he would keep him promise no matter what. You knew that look, you knew this man and you trusted him, you could leave your life in his hands and he would keep that promise in his heart until his very last days.

But just because he could keep a promise didn’t mean fate couldn’t take over.

You stuffed the doll into your bag and took his out-stretched hand, letting him lead you back to the cloaked Chain so you could all return to your temporary abode within the woods.

You felt the stare of eyes on your back the entire way.

----------

The past few days had been uneventful, save for the few black blooded and some more cruel Hylians of Hyrule’s homeland, everything had been pretty quiet and tame- yet you could still feel the unnerving tremble in your belly at every waking moment. Glancing around wildly, refusing to step away from the group, you don’t think you had even released Hyrule’s hand for those past few days, too afraid and too cowardly.

Even if the doll was in your possession, even if it brought you back- you would die.

You didn’t want to die out here.

But it seems, like you had expected, fate had decided to take that into its own hands.

It was Legend’s turn to watch for the night, sat in front of the flickering campfire with eyes focused on the surrounding trees and bush. His back was towards you when you woke, blinking away sleep and rubbing at your eyes when you felt the overwhelming need to use the toilet. Well, find a spot behind a tree, after all when was the last time you had seen a proper toilet? You shuddered at the thought.

“Where are you going?” The Veteran grunted, watching as you waddled through the sleeping bodies.

“Toilet.” Your voice was hoarse with exhaustion, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna converse with the Shadow.”

The man huffed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Whatever.”

That was all you exchanged, carefully manoeuvring through the shrubbery to get a good distance away from the men. Not thinking, your mind still too seeped in sleep, forgetting the doll you had kept in a death grip these past few gruelling days as you hopped and shuffled to get to a sufficient spot to do your business then head back to camp. It didn’t occur to you that this may have been the moment fate needed, nor did you think about it being your last.

Done with your business, you took a few steps back towards the light in the short distance. Far enough that you couldn’t see Legend’s full features but close enough that you were still in sight, the hero had his head down towards the flames, not focused on you at all.

You sighed.

Then-

…You felt a burning.

Your whole body tensed- seized as the pain began to grow from a dull throb to a near rolling inferno, your breath suddenly ripped from your body as you felt the sensation of hot liquid begin to slowly bubble up your throat while you looked downed to the cause of the pain- a crossbow bolt punctured right through you, dirtied with red hot blood that idly drip, drip, dripped from the tip of the arrow right onto the dirt below.

Breathing only resulted in the blood to rise faster, tasting the copper in your mouth as you coughed and sullied your white tunic with maroon and felt your body sway as you felt your body quickly begin to lose it’s balance, your vision blurring with tears.

It must have caught your lung…were you drowning in your own blood?

You reached a hand out towards the camp.

“...Li-nk-”

You fell to your knees, then to your side, choking on more of the liquid.

----------

Hyrule awoke to a scream.

Loud and violent, his whole body jolted at the sound as he lept into a seated position with his sword pulled ready, eyes scanning the camp frantically for the threat he had expected.

Only to see nothing. Merely his brothers in spirit, jolted awake and alarmed similarly to him as they all glanced around and wondered about the sound that had woken them all from their slumber.

Hyrule’s hand moved towards your body.

And his stomach dropped when he didn’t feel you there.

“No…”

It was happening.

When the silhouette of Legend began rushing back into camp, bloodied and panicked the traveller knew already what had happened- he didn’t need to glance at the mass in the Veteran’s arms to know it was you, the bolt still protruding through your ribcage as the small blonde screamed for them all to do something- ready the potions, ready the fairies, anything. His hysterics would have been almost comical if the brunette didn’t feel like his world was crashing down around him as he watched your hand limply hang, unmoving.

“Oh dear Three-”

“Put them down, quickly!”

“We must remove the bolt!”

Hyrule pounced when his body finally snapped back into attention, rushing to your side like a bat out of hell when the blonde had carefully handed you towards the Captain and the Old Man- the soldier carefully snapping off the fletching of the arrow to slide the item out of your chest, the horrible bloodied squelch making the brunette’s stomach twist and churn in horror and fear.

He didn’t see Warrior’s fingers against your pulse, nor the slow head shake towards the horrified Time.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered gently, soothingly, as his hands glowed a familiar white.

“Traveller-” Warriors started.

“You’re going to be okay, I’m going to make it stop.” He pressed his hand over the wound, ignoring the blood blooming around his fingers and soaking them in red. “I know it hurts-”

“Traveller.” Time’s voice was firm, his hand landing on his shoulder. “Stop.”

Hyrule held back from decking the old man where he stood. “”WHAT?! NO!! Are you INSANE-”

“They’re already gone, Hyrule.”

Wild’s voice was…gentle. Gentle and pained as he kneeled next to the frozen hero, carefully moving his hands from the puncture wound to stop the man from further staining his hands in your blood. The Champion’s face was broken, ears down turned and eyes blank as he looked over your broken form- the spark that once danced in your eyes now gone with the gentle rhythm of your breaths.

Hyrule waited.

And waited.

Your chest did not move.

Warriors hand gently ran over your eyes, closing the lids so that they no longer had to see the dead stare aimed towards the trees ahead. He moved to softly kiss your forehead after with an even softer apology.

“I…..I promised…” Hyrule muttered, eyes glazing over as tears began to blur his vision of your dead body, still warm to the touch. “I promised-”

“I’m sorry, brother.” Wild whispered, moving to hold Hyrule gently. “I’m sorry.”

The silence hanging over them all was heavy, save for the small sniffles and hiccups of the few. Twilight was trying to console a near uncontrollable Legend, bloody hands roughly grabbing the fur of his hide as he sobbed and choked on tears. Wind was turned into Four, the shorter man holding him close and away from the visceral scene. The rest were stock still, quiet and unsure of what to do, of what to say, as they continued to stare at your…corpse.

Warriors bowed his head. “We should give them a burial.”

“No-” Hyrule gasped, feeling both rage and a cold emptiness within him. “No, I- I need to-” “There isn’t anything else you can do, traveller.” Time’s voice was soft but firm. “Our only option is to bury them…and if we find our way back to their homeland, return their belongings to their mother.”

Hyrule perked up, head swivelling round towards your bag a little ways away.

Belongings…

The

Doll.

His heart surged and in a moment of pure adrenaline, he shoved Wild to the side and dived towards your rucksack, ignoring his brother’s grunt or the other yells.

“Link!”

The brunette grasped the thing frantically, near ripping the strange contraption you called a zipper as he rummaged messily through your back, tossing your things wildly as he looked for the wretched ‘gift’.

“Traveller, stop this!” The voice of Four called, trying to grab his arm. “What are you doing-”

Hyrule didn’t even feel remorse when he roughly shoved his elbow into the nose of the short hero and sent him flying onto his arse.

More yells of his name were heard but they were quite easily ignored when his eyes finally laid eyes on the doll of your likeness, aggressively snatching the carefully crafted toy with a desperation and anger he hadn’t felt for years. He turned back to scramble towards your body, the doll gripped in his hand like it was his lifeline only for Sky and Time to roughly grab his arms, their voices falling on deaf is as he wildly scratched and bit at them, trying to fight his way out.

“Release me!” He roared, catching Sky by the cheek and causing the Skyloftian to wince in pain. “Let me go! I can save them!”

“Enough of this, Link!” Time yelled, both desperate and firm, his own face riddled in anguish. “They are gone! Let them rest in peace!”

Hyrule’s heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of you dead, lost to him forever more before he pushed himself harder until he caught the arm of the Old Man and sunk his teeth into the skin, the Hero of Time crying out in pain and finally releasing him- Chosen quickly diving to aid the blonde as the traveller rushed to your side and pressed the doll against you.

“Do your job!!” He yelled into the night air, “Heal them! Bring them back!”

Wild and Warriors pinned him this time, Hyrule’s face pressed into the dirt with them both keeping his arms down to stop him from swiping or nipping at his brothers once again.

“That’s enough!” Warriors’ commanding voice bellowed, pushing Hyrule’s face further into the ground. “Calm down or else, traveller!”

Hyrule’s eyes bore tears once again, struggling once more with both pleas and threats falling from his mouth, merging into a mess of gibberish the further and further he spiralled into a wobbly heap of tears and sorrow beneath the other Links. This couldn’t be the end, the doll couldn’t be a dud- it was supposed to bring you back. You were supposed to be here! You weren’t dead! You couldn’t be dead! He didn’t want you dead! This had to be a nightmare, conjured by Ganon’s monsters to torture him and break him. You- You-

There was a popping sound behind them and heads snapped towards it.

“What was that?” Time asked, still nursing his bleeding bite mark. “Where did that come from?”

Wind’s eyes were wide. “The doll just…exploded?”

Hyrule’s breath stopped.

…

Just as yours returned.

Shaky and hoarse, your body moved with a violent inhale of breath, shaking from the strain and following with heavy coughs as you breathed like it was the first time, lungs born anew. The others watched in a curious shock as you continued to hack and heave, pushing your body up from the ground- the doll falling from your chest into the dirt below.

The toy's chest held a puncture, white wool stuffing blooming at the hole with a few stray curls falling into the dirt.

Hyrule sobbed in relief.

“(Name)!” Wind threw himself at you, arms wrapping around your neck tightly as he shoved his face into your shoulder. “You’re okay- You’re okay!!”

You continued to gasp for breath, the many men around you rushing to your side to aid your effort as Hyrule pushed himself to his hand and knees, smiling a wet and wobbly grin as he listened to you, alive, once more- returned to him from the realm of the dead. You were back, you came back and his heart swelled with a plethora of emotions that made his entire being shake.

Hyrule crawled over to you, frozen and still not sure of your own surroundings as his hands came to engulf your face, his eyes looking back into your own- glazed in confusion and lingering fear that made his heart squeeze in regret.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I am so sorry- I broke our promise.”

Your mouth opened then closed. Then opened and closed once again. Looking for the words to express the feelings behind your petrified gaze, your throats managing noise but that alone in an seemingly endless cycle of struggle and torment. Only when you whimpered, tearing up with a shaky sob did the man embrace you and hold close- careful to keep the bloody hands off you. He didn’t want you to see it.

The dolls never did quite clean up the mess.

----------

Hyrule trekked through his woodland, bumping through branches and harshly knocking away bushes as a man on a mission. Eyes narrowed with anger, the flickered with the flames of hell and rage as he stomped his way towards his destination.

“Where are you going?” Time had asked, watching the traveller pull on his cloak. “Don’t you think it unwise to leave when they just got to sleep?”

You laid in a comfortable heap in your sleep mat, wrapped in both your own blanket and the brunette’s, Wind and Wild laid comfortably beside you and Wolfie acting as your pillow. All were resting, vanished into the land of dreams with the many other men around camp. They were close too, like bodyguards they surrounded you afraid of what had already happened.

Time was left for watch and Hyrule took his opportunity.

“I have some business to deal with.” His voice was void of his usual softness, a growl of a predator with the malice near sharp as Ganon’s himself. “I’ll be back.”

Time narrowed his eye. “We will search for whoever did this in the morning.”

“That is not what I am doing.”

“Then what is? Tell me, traveller, what could you possibly be doing?”

Hyrule’s hand grabbed the doll, his hand tight enough to near pop its beady button eyes right from its wool skull.

Hyrule pulled his hood over his head.

“I will return soon.”

Hyrule ripped another branch from his face, eyes finally narrowing in on the large house in the distance. Like he had seen it once before, warped beyond comprehension yet still perceivable to his naked eye. It haunted his dreams now, echoes of a horrid encounter that shook him to the core and left invisible scars that still marred his soul-

She was there once again, the exact same spot as the time before, the exact same position, her arms crossed over her chest with a menial smile plastered over her lips that only grew as the Hero of Hyrule stepped out from the shadows of the trees, still tightly gripping the ruined doll within his grasp.

Despite her calm disposition, he could so clearly see the hunger in her eyes, even from his spot. “Did your friend like my gift?”

Hyrule’s hand twitched to his blade, hanging from his hip opposed to his back- easier and faster to draw. “I should kill you where you stand.”

The Dollmaker’s chuckle held a twisted humour like poking a sleeping, starved bear. “You should- but you won’t.”

Hyrule’s eye twitched. “What do you want with them? They have no power- no fighting capability or anything you could possibly want.”

“Ah,” She tapped her nose with the constant smile. “You will come to know. Or maybe you won’t, wouldn’t it be more fun to find out yourself?”

“Stay away from them.” He stepped up to her door’s steps, eyes manic in rage. “Leave them be.”

Her already massive smile grew.

The Dollmaker was not someone Hyrule liked to encounter. When her dolls appeared death usually followed, mostly his own, the many sawdust filled dummies gathering dust in the darkness in his bag as a constant reminder of what you had been through during his adventures. Sometimes he saw different ones, of faces he had only glimpsed at in towns or villages, but he saw them- he had seen one of her own long ago. Saw the damage dealt to it’s surface when he had the unfortunate chance of crossing into her shop looking for some magic items he was already lacking.

She liked to collect them; that was the idea he had conjured anyway.

Raising your doll high, he presented the damaged little soft toy towards her and saw how her pupils grew at the sight. While her hands were gentle to grab it she practically snatched it from his hands and cradled the thing close to her chest, gently caressing the spot where the hole had formed.

“Even a cursed doll, you handle them gentle.” Her comment made him huff, his arms crossing to hold back from doing something he regretted. “I showed them mercy, you know.”

Hyrule ground his teeth. “You think shooting them in the chest is mercy?”

“Compared to what else I could have done, yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s only fair if I have my fun.”

The Hero turned his head away. “You’re sick.”

And the Dollmaker hummed. “I will return with another.”

She disappeared into the darkness of her house, footsteps gently fading off as Hyrule stood just below the doorway, pearing in and hoping to see the mystery of her disorted abode. No luck however, his eyes only soaked in the dark abyssal, his ears twitching at the sounds of creaking floorboards and groaning wood of the walls, focusing and focusing in a near trance until the sight of her eye peering through the darkness made him take a cautious step back.

When had he climbed the steps?

“Here.” She said, once again both calm and giddy as she presented the doll to him- another little you, with a stitched little smile like the last. “I hope they enjoy it.”

Hyrule carefully snatched the doll away before jogging down the steps and headed back towards the forest without another word.

“It didn’t feel right to use sawdust.” The brunette paused, slightly moving his head in indication that he was listening- not that it mattered. He knew she would continue on, even if he had trudged off. “I felt they needed something a little more…lively and I of course couldn’t brush off the idea of using the finest of sheep’s wool. I think it suited them much more, don’t you agree?”

…Hyrule kept walking.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #next hero in line #Squid #batrogers

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purpleyoonn · 2 years

Text

My Witch

Summary: It was Halloween night and you were in the old church fulfilling a dare your friends tasked you with. Little did you know you were being watched, and he had been waiting a long time to finally make you his. Now, you were his, and he wasn’t letting you go.

Pairing: Demon Taehyung x Human (witch) Reader

Genre: soulmate au, demon au, bts au, angst, smut

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: bad pranks, demon whispering, spells, rituals gone wrong, prank gone wrong, reader is really a witch, Taehyung is a demonic guardian, dom Taehyung, sub mc, bondage, orgasm denial, praise kink, breeding kink, pretty much just pure smut, pure filth,

Masterlist // Navigation

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Six candles stood on the borders of the circle you resided in. The white chalk on the floor marked in an intricate shape as copied from the book in your hands. There was no way this was going to work, and you would be out of this damned house in a matter of minutes, ready to pummel your friends for making you do this as your dare instead of something else, like licking the bottom of your friend’s foot for example.

You had been at your friend, Yeri’s house with a large group of friends, playing games before you all went out for Halloween. You were in the middle of playing truth or dare when you stupidly picked dare. You were told to go into the old church and recreate the ritual that you had been shown in your class. The class was about magic and the occult, and was a huge hit for the youth in your religious small town.

Lighting the last candle, you finished the circle of salt around your body as you placed the book on the floor, looking at everything to see if you got the ritual right. When you had everything confirmed, you stood tall, book in your hand again as you moved to read the small inscription underneath one of the diagrams.

You barely managed to get one of the Latin words out of your mouth before the lights started to flicker.

“Okay guys! This isn’t funny.” You yelled out, the flickering lights stopping making you believe your friends left the room, your back to the door as you faced the window.

“Okay…let’s do this so I can get back home instead of going out. I’ll need a large glass of wine when I’m done.” You say aloud, needing the eerie silence in the room to be gone. You hated the silence, how your thoughts seemed to try and fill the void.

You start the chant again, this time closing your eyes, not wanting to know if your friends try and prank you again. They knew you were scared, knew you didn’t want to do this. You were the only one in class who paid attention to your professor, knew exactly what these words meant, and it terrified you.

A creak sounded from your right causing you to open your eyes, head moving to the direction only to see nothing there. Taking a deep breath to ease your nerves, you finished the incantation quicker, not knowing you most likely butchered some of the words. You just wanted this to be over with.

You waited a couple seconds, sighing in relief when nothing happened, not even a slight flicker of the light coming from the candle’s flames. Choosing to keep the candles lit for light, you begin to clean up the chalk on the ground and the salt, along with the small gems your friend Joy gave you for the ritual.

Another creak sounded, this time form behind you as you jumped to your feet, spinning on your heel to come face to face with someone you didn’t know.

His dark eyes were locked on you, as if drinking in the sight of you. He had black hair that curled into his neck, longer in the back as he has it pulled into a half ponytail at the top of his head. He leaned against the door frame, your only way out of the dark room. He appeared relaxed as he looked at you, like nothing was amiss even as the candles blew out and the only light now came from the moonlight leaking in through the window.

“Who are you?” You asked the tall man, not moving from your spot. Your voice wavered, not liking the way this went in your head.

“Oh baby. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” He had a deep voice that made tingles shoot down your spine, straight to your core. He smirked at you, the corner of his lip turning upward as if he knew exactly what reaction his voice gave you.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was shaky now, the entire vibe and atmosphere of the room becoming cold. Something was not right and your mind was coming up with way too many awful scenarios, the main one being that the stupid ritual actually worked.

“Now, darling. You are the one who spoke the incantation…my little witch.” He started walking forward, his pace leisurely as he kept his eyes on you.

“Each potential witch is born with a demonic guardian, courtesy of the Devil herself. I just so happen to also be your mate, who you’ve just summoned into the physical plane.” You were shaking your head, not believing his words as he kept moving closer. Your body was frozen where you stood, your feet physically unable to move.

“I’ve been watching you since you were little, making sure nothing happened to my darling mate. I, however, was getting tired of waiting. So, I may have whispered into your “friends” ears tonight to get you’re here.” He stopped in front of you, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other coming up to cup your jaw.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way? My perfect little bride.” You were dressed as a bride tonight, a joke done by your friends seeing as you’ve never been in a relationship. But now, you think it was this demon whispering again.

“This isn’t funny. So whichever one of my friends that paid you to do this, I’ll give you more money to leave me alone.” You whisper, voice weak from fear as he stares down at you with lust in his eyes.

He was silent, his eyes switching back and forth between your own as he looked at you. Taehyung didn’t know what to say to make you understand what you did, how you brought him here and started the mate bond with him.

“When you do a spell at this scale, make sure you speak slowly and pronounce everything correctly, or you might just bring your soulmate to the physical plane and begin the mate bond with them.” Or Taehyung can just bite the bullet and say it bluntly.

He knew he had you when your eyes began fluttering in thought, as if you were reading words sitting in the air. You always did this when you were thinking, like you were reading an invisible paragraph that no one else could see. He watched your expression turn from thinking to panicked as you tried to pull away from him.

“Sorry, my love, can’t have you trying to run away from me now, can I?” His grip on your jaw tightened, tilting your head to the side as he brought his nose to your neck and took a deep breath in. When he pulled back, he had a deep grin on his lips, eyes flashing with amusement.

“All of that fear can’t hide the lust you feel for me. It scares you, doesn’t it?” You squeeze your thighs together, your mind becoming hazy with lust as he continues to stare down at you. You begin to feel hot and clammy, the need building within you the longer he has his hands on you.

“Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. Let the feeling take you over.” He whispered in your ear, biting into your lobe as he did. He didn’t need you trying to fight the bond, not when you already started it. Not when you put it into action. Not when your spell accepted him as your mate.

Not when you were finally his.

He could see the tears forming in your eyes as you tried to fight the pull to him. He could smell your arousal dripping from your folds and his had him fighting himself. He wanted to take his first time with you slowly, making sure you felt everything he gave to you, only his name leaving your lips as he made you come, again and again. However, the longer you tried to fight him, the more he wanted to make you beg.

“Let your body succumb to the pleasure only I can make you feel.” He didn’t like that you were shaking your head. That you were still trying to fight the pull you felt for him. He blinked, one second you were in the old church, the next you were lying on a bed.

You were in your bra and panties, jewelry you had never seen before now littered your body. Numerous bracelets covered both of your wrists; you even had a couple of anklets adorning your ankles.

You sat up, moving to bring your legs to your chest as you looked around. A weight on the bed had you catching eyes with the demon who you accidently summoned. His eyes were completely black, the candles lit on the side tables flickering in his gaze.

You moved back until you were back against the headboard, no longer in the middle of the bed. The demon tutted, shaking his finger at you. He moved forward, grabbing ahold of your ankles and slowly dragging you back until you were once again laying down in the middle of the bed. Your hands now bound to the headboard as your ankles remained free.

“You know, if you didn’t try and fight the pull you feel to me, I wouldn’t have to do this. You are mine. You always have been.” He now hovered over you, his finger caressing your jaw as you tried to move your head away. Your thighs were clenched together, the only physical indication of your growing arousal and need for the man on top of you.

Your body craved his touch, had you wanted to lean into him, but the small part that was quickly dying out inside of you was telling you that this was all wrong. That you shouldn’t be doing this.

Taehyung noticed the fight quickly leaving your body, the arousal becoming greater as it fell and created a damp spot on your panties. He decided you needed a little nudge.

“You smell so sweet. My very own nectar.” His fingers trailed down your side, caressing your hip before moving over your panties.

He could feel how damp your underwear was, your slick now covering his fingers just from touching your underwear. His eyes rolled back into his head as he brough his slick coated fingers to his lips. You let out a gasp as he brought his hand down again, ripping your underwear off in one quick motion before running his fingers through your folds.

“That’s it darling.” His voice caressed you just like his touch. His spread your legs open, moving to rest his own in the now open space as he brought his finger to your core again, his index finger now pushing in slowly, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling.

“Just relax babygirl, I’ll take good care of you.” His finger moved slowly against your walls, pumping a couple of times before adding his middle finger, the two rubbing against the spot that had you moaning out.

Taehyung watched you as you moaned, your eyes were closed from the pleasure, your body finally giving in to the bond. He could see you relax into the bed, the only tension in your body coming from your abdomen and core.

When he noticed you getting close, he pulled back, causing you to whine, your eyes opening to see the smirk on his lips. He brought his fingers to his lips again, this time putting them in his mouth so he could suck off the slick coating them. You could see his shoulders tense and his chest move up and down as he tried to catch his breath. The taste of you on his tongue had all reason thrown out the window.

He was back on top of you again, his clothing missing as the weight of him presses you against the mattress. You could feel him against your hip, could feel his balls as the rest against your clit. His head was directly over your own, as if searching again for any sign of defiance. When he didn’t get it, he moved back down your body, kissing every couple seconds.

He left open-mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck and collarbone, marks left in his wake as he reaches your breasts. A small testing kiss is placed right next to your nipple, causing a whine to leave your lips and laughter to leave his.

“Oh baby? Is this where you want me to kiss?” He wastes no time before taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking on you harshly. The groan that leaves your lips has him wanting more, the hand not on your other breasts moves down to your core again, fingers rubbing at your clit.

You were music at his touch, so vocal for him, Taehyung thought, absolutely loving the way each touch from him had you singing.

He had you almost reaching your high another two times, wanting to drag this out as long as he could. He waited way to long for you, and he wasn’t going to let this last less than he felt you both deserved. Each whine he brought forward from your lips, the closer he became to losing all control.

“Shhh baby. I’ll make it all better.” He cooed in your ear as he brought his tip to your core, rubbing it in your slick, coating his cock with the juices he brought out of you.

You couldn’t help but to remember he was a demon, his masochism showing as he edged you three separate times. You were about to push him away and handle things yourself when he finally pushed in, your body almost pulling him in, not wanting to be edged again. It was, again, as if he read your thoughts. (Taehyung knew you so well he could practically read your mind.)

Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling of him touching your cervix, his hips pressed against yours as he moves your legs to wrap around his shoulders, the position making him reach new places and making more tingles shoot down your spine.

He didn’t hesitate to find a rhythm, knowing you wouldn’t feel any pain from, him only pleasure as your mate. His pace was quick and deep, hitting your cervix and rubbing against your spot with every thrust. All inhibitions and control leaving Taehyung’s body as your walls clench against him. He could feel the pleasure coursing through your body.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Such a good girl.” He pushes out through his clenched teeth, eyes locked on your own as he changes position, this time he moved your legs to wrap around his hips. He seemed to reach even deeper than before, matching his thrusts so he was going harder and deeper.

“My good girl. Gonna fill you nice and full.” Your mouth was open as the knot in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter. You had no clue if he even realized what he was saying, but you couldn’t help but to clench around him at his words.

“Oh, you like that idea? Want me to fill you with my seed? Want me to breed you like the good little mate I know you are?” He could feel himself getting close, his body betraying his mind as he had you underneath him for the first time. Despite his desire to drag this out, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

He brought his lips to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as he rubbed his index and middle fingers against your clit, wanting to make you cum as he felt his high coming closer.

“Such a good girl.” He breathed out as you came, your walls clenching tightly around his cock sending him into his own release. He didn’t stop for a couple more thrusts, wanting to push as much of his cum into you as possible before he stopped at the hilt, pressing his hips harder into yours for good measure.

He remained in you for a while, wanting to make sure you remained filled, with him and his cum. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and the scent of his cum in you would be the best way to do that.

He looked down at you again, your eyes hazy from the pleasure.

“Such a good girl.”

#bts #bts au #bts v #bts taehyung #bts taehyung x reader #demon taehyung #demon au #human reader #bts one shot #taehyung one shot #angst #smut #bts smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #purpleyoonn

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echo-goes-mmm · 7 months

Text

Silas and Wren #2

Masterpost

Warnings: brief mention of future non-con

The carriage ride back to his home was… awkward. Now that he had someone to talk to, what was there to say?

He had to encourage the slave to sit on the carriage bench and not the floor. The slave sat obediently, staring at the floor.

“Is the wood so interesting?” Silas joked. The slave startled.

“I’m sorry, Master,” said the slave, who wrapped his arms around himself.

“No, I mean-” Silas sighed. Off to a great start. “I’m sorry. I’m Silas. Do you have a name?”

“Only what you wish to call me, Master.”

“Well, what did your mother call you?” The slave looked up at him, surprise on his face. He looked away, out the window.

“She called me Wren,” he said, wistful.

“Then that’s your name.”

“Oh! Thank you, Master.” Wren smiled at him, a tiny happy thing. He was pretty when he smiled. His freckles stood out more and they matched well with his reddish hair.

Silas noticed a mark on the back of Wren’s left hand. It was raised, a perfect circle with an S in the center. A brand. He searched his brain for a pleasant conversation topic. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Have you ever been over the border?” he asked.

“No, Master. I don’t know anyone who has.”

“Oh. Well, it’s very nice. Lots of trees.” He could have smacked himself. ‘Lots of trees’? Really?

“Um, that does sound nice. I like trees.”

They lapsed into silence again. Wren had taken to watching the countryside go by.

Maybe things would go better at home.

___________________

He paid the driver and tipped well. The estate was small, compared to his family home, but Silas preferred ‘spacious’ over ‘enormous’. He didn’t need more rooms to emphasize that no one visited him.

He had converted part of the east wing into a kitchen and pantry for his human, and ordered plenty of food. Hopefully Wren wasn’t allergic to anything.

His home didn’t have many original widows, so he had a few made. He would just figure out a way to avoid them if he got a cold.

Wren’s bedroom was also in the east wing. His was in the west. Silas didn’t want to intimidate Wren, so neighboring bedrooms wasn’t an option.

He prayed Wren wouldn’t avoid him. He wasn’t sure if could stand the prospect of more rejection.

He led Wren to his bedroom, and his eyes were as big as saucers.

“This is all for me? Really?”

“Do you like it?” asked Silas, nervous. “I wasn’t sure about the color, but it could be painted again. And I could get you a different rug if you want. And anything else you want.”

“I- I don’t need anything else, Master. You don’t need to waste your money on me.”

“It’s not a waste,” said Silas. “I just want you to be comfortable.” He shifted a little. Wren looked like he was about to cry.

___________________

It was all for him. The bedroom, the brand new kitchen and fully stocked pantry, he even got his own bathroom and shower.

The door even had a lock on the inside. He could lock his Master out, even if only technically. Vampires were far stronger than a bit of copper.

He thought Master Silas was pretty scary, but maybe he wouldn’t be so bad. Wren had put up with a lot without all of these nice things. Surely having them would make whatever Silas wanted to do to him easier to bear.

Master Silas’s house was so impressive, he could give a slave a room better than most Masters reserved for themselves. Dark wood panels, vivid wallpaper, a plush rug, and a full furniture set (including a couch!).

The star of the room was the queen-sized four poster bed. He ran his hand over the comforter, almost afraid to touch it. It was so soft.

“I’m sorry,” said Master. “I didn’t buy you any clothes.”

Wren could have cried right then and there.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Master,” he wiped his eyes, “I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Do- do you want to see the rest of the estate? Or we could play a game?”

A ‘game’ could mean anything, so the tour it was.

“I would like to see your house, Master.” Silas smiled at him.

Master showed him the library (it was impressive, but Wren couldn’t read), a very nice sitting room, the drawing room, sun room, and finally Master’s own bedroom.

Master’s room was large, and clearly meant for two. It was in what Master Silas called the ‘family wing’, but Wren hadn’t seen another soul in the house. There must be a maid service that he hired, because there was no evidence of servants despite the lack of dust and unpolished furniture.

Wren had never lived without at least a few people around him. He couldn’t talk much to free people, but he made friends with other slaves, even some servants.

It would be an adjustment for him.

Master also showed him the garden, which was a little confusing. He thought vampires were burned by the sun. It was cloudy out now, but why bother with a beautiful garden when Silas could only enjoy it when the weather was bad?

He could be wrong. After all, he was only a slave and not very smart. And people who avoided the sun didn’t have windows in their homes, much less in their own bedrooms.

But more importantly, when would Master Silas drink from him?

When would Master want to bed him?

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone

#lore drop: vampires burn in the sun when they get sick or are otherwise unhealthy. Its very inconvenient.#like damn i got the flu and now a massive sunburn? why me #Silas and Wren #my writing #slavery whump #whump #vampire whump

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smoshpostiing · 2 months

Note

Omg new games video Courtney says Shayne's name, flexed her left hand, made a face at themselves, and then proceeded to cover her left hand.... 11.50 mark

okay not gonna lie.... this is a little bit of a stretch and bordering on a little bit too far.

i definitely did notice that court seemed to be looking at that one ring a lot during the video and it does seem like a new one possibly??

that being said it doesn't necessarily mean anything... but there were definitely some other cute shourtney crumbs in the video!!

i hope you dont take this the wrong way anon i appreciate your ask, im just mindful of trying not to overstep when it comes to s+c <3

#smosh #shayne topp #courtney miller #shourtney #smosh cast #smosh courtney #smosh shayne #smosh shourtney #shartney #smosh games #love them sm

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peachy-panic · 1 year

Text

Not My Father’s Son

Shh it’s a surprise. Roughly 15 years after the beginning of Do No Harm.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, collar mention, fear of medicine, scar mention, bad family relationship

The kid perched on the twin bed can’t be much older than him, if not several years his junior. At his own twenty-one years, that would put this rescue right at the border of legal age for entry into the system. But after three years immersed in active rebellion work, he is no longer surprised by the ease with which WRU ignores their own rules.

He crouches into their line of sight, keeping a solid 3-foot distance. Their sharp, green eyes track his every move; wary, in direct contradiction to their body language. It’s still eerie to witness, no matter how many times he’s seen it in action—the way the ‘training’ embeds itself so deeply in each person’s psyche, so much so that they are able to convey a false openness, a mockery of calm, even in their most desperate moments of terror.

And this rescue is terrified.

“Hi,” he says, keeping his voice low and even. “I’m the shelter coordinator here. You can call me KT.”

Rule number one is no full names at intake. It’s not a pleasant thought, and certainly not one anyone in this work likes to think about, but the new rescues don’t always stick around. Sometimes they’re taken back by force, sometimes they are pulled back in by the demons those people planted in their heads. But once they’re back in WRU’s clutches, delicate information has a tendency to spill out. People have a tendency to get hurt.

The volunteers—the people who help run these shelters and perform under-the-table medical care and go on emergency extraction missions—know what kind of risks they’re signing up for when they dedicate their lives to the cause. But he has seen too much loss in his life at this point not to enforce every precaution.

“I heard you were having some trouble with the medicine,” he begins. But no matter how softly he makes the statement, their eyes lock up with renewed terror.

They dart their gaze to the small table beside the bed. On it is a plate, mostly empty save for a couple empty sandwich wrappers and crumbs, and—most notably—a small paper cup with 2 pills still inside.

“It’s okay,” he says calmly, showing his palms. “First thing you need to know is you don’t have to take anything that is given to you here. We are not like them.”

They never believe it the first hundred times, but it’s always worth stating.

“Second thing,” he continues, “Nothing we give you here will harm you. And I’ll prove it.”

He pulls a small bottle from his pocket and shakes 4 pills into his palm, then stretches out his hand. “Pick two,” he says. “Any two.”

Their eyes dart between the offering and his face, searching for any sign of a trap

“Go ahead. It’s okay.”

He patiently waits them out, as long as it takes, but they finally reach out and pluck two of the pills from his palm, careful not to let their fingers touch skin.

“Cool.” He nods then lifts his hand in a half-hearted cheers gesture. “Bottoms up.” He throws his head back and swallows the pills dry.

They are staring at him when he opens his eyes, and he offers a small smile.

“See? That would be one hell of a game of roulette, and I’m not that brave. Promise.”

It takes a few more seconds of hesitant thought, and he is prepared for the likely possibility that it won’t happen today. That’s okay—he’ll try again tomorrow. But then, without a word, they bring their hand to their mouth and pop the remaining two in. Tempering his own joy to the smallest smile of encouragement, he picks up their water cup and hands it over.

As they tilt their head back to swallow, his eyes dip unwittingly to the band of discolored skin around their neck; a tan line from the collar that would have been severed and destroyed before they came anywhere near the boundary of the shelter. Without having to look, he knows there will be another mark of newfound freedom in the form of a freshly stitched line just behind their ear.

For a moment, he is overtaken by a memory, seared in technicolor behind his eyelids: a piggyback ride in his childhood playroom. His forehead pressed against a soft bed of blond curls. His own little fingers coming up to trace a line of pink, raised skin he had never noticed before. One he could only see from that angle. “Sev, you have a cut.”

He blinks himself back to the present. The rescue is staring down at him with eyes that are eager to trust through layers of wariness.

“Thank you,” Kade whispers sincerely. “You did great.”

Two knocks behind him startle them both. He turns over his shoulder to see Jordan, the nurse practitioner on night shift, in the doorway.

“Torley,” he says. “Need to steal you for a minute.”

Kade sends a meaningful glance in the direction of the frightened rescue. “Is it urgent?”

Jordan’s deep brown eyes hold his for an extra moment. Kade has known him long enough, both professionally and personally, to read the answer there.

“Okay,” he breathes, turning back to the rescue. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to step out, but I am around if you need me, okay? Ask anyone to page me and I’ll head this way. Yeah?”

Hesitantly, the rescue nods. It will have to be enough for now.

The door has barely closed behind him when Jordan curls a soft hand around his elbow.

“Jesus, Kadence, you can’t do the pill trick every time. At this rate, your liver is going to fail by age 30.”

“Maybe I had a headache,” he counters. “Or maybe I’m making up for the rebellious teenage years I skipped out on.”

“You mean you’re not still in them?”

Kade smiles, leaning a little bit into his warm touch.

When they reach the end of the hallway, something in Jordan’s demeanor changes. The teasing smile slips from his face as he scrubs a palm over his mouth. He pulls Kade to the side, turning to face him and lowering his voice so that only the two of them can hear.

“What’s wrong?” Kade asks before he can explain. “Is it another emergency rescue? Two in one night?”

“No, it’s…”

“Jordan?”

He meets his eyes again, and by now Kade is well and truly nervous. “It’s your brother.” He drops the bomb, watching it land over Kade’s expression. “He called for you.”

Kade blinks, trying to wrap his head around those words in that order. He hasn’t spoken to Stephen in almost a year. Jordan knows that, along with most of the reasons why.

“Tell him to fuck off,” he says, though his voice is a little pinched.

“Kade—”

“No.” He shakes his head, starting to walk away. “I… I have work to do, I don’t have time for… And he should know better, after that fucking disaster last Christmas—”

“Kade.” Jordan pulls him back, forcing him to pay attention. “He said it’s about your father.”

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader @pinkraindropsfell

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #do no harm #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#whumplr #whump community #whump writing #whump drabble

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theworldwalkersdiaries · 1 month

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📝 for the ask game!

Oh my gosh I have so so many projects at all times (it’s the undiagnosed/unmedicated adhd sjsjdhshshsh) but the big one occupying a lot of my brain rn is an embroidery journal, where you do a piece of microembroidery once a day FOR A YEAR

It’s a huge challenge but it’s so so fun and rewarding. I am. Like a full month behind lmao BUT IT’S OKAY I KEEP A LIST

I got some fresh photos for u :3

This is the full 14” hoop. January’s borders are in blue, February’s are in pink. For scale, that’s my thumbnail that’s visible on the left.

Here are some of my fave individual squares, just because:

In order of appearance, left to right, these are: Elmo ART meme, a unicorn’s horn with a 20 and a 1 in the corners, a micro portrait of my purple tiefling Winter (he is in profile, facing left), a tiny ps5 controller with a ❤️ on the touchpad, a micro portrait of my teal tiefling Hope (in profile, facing right), a teeny bird, a lit torch, and Gale Dekarios’ Netherese Orb mark with a teal heart in the middle

Each one has a reason I picked it, and it’s all in the list I keep for reference. Originally I was thinking of making it a pillow when I was done, but I like the big hoop so much I might just mount it in one! I’d probably upgrade to a 14.5” or 15” hoop tho, give the borders a little more room to breathe.

Thanks so much for the ask!!

#asked and answered #embroidery #microembroidery #embroidery journal #WIPs #mads makes stuff #Tav: Winter #Tav: Hope #Gale Dekarios #bg3

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countessviolet · 4 months

Text

Family on Fire - Ch. 2 - Drunk!Olaf alert

"Y...yes!" Klaus rejoiced as he counted out the 65-point word his play in Scrabble awarded him.

Violet groaned, not bothering to think what her letters could do for her. There was no way she or Sunny could catch up to him now.

"LUPUS. I can't believe it," she muttered. "Count on the guy who read through the dictionary twice to come up with that."

Klaus shrugged, picking up the faux silk bag to collect new tiles, frowning at its light weight.

"Where are..."

Violet grinned mischievously as a light crunch came from their left.

"Sunny!" Klaus gasped. Violet chuckled as her baby sister reluctantly spat out an 'L' and an 'E', a fresh tooth mark smiling back at him.

"Sorry, they tasted like chicken," Sunny babbled.

"Ugh," the young scholar complained as he wiped the tiles clean. "Well, at least it matches the board now."

Violet laughed, helping her brother and sister put the game away.

Saturday evenings were, oddly, calm in Count Olaf's home. Being that the Baudelaires used the day to finish the few chores they couldn't keep up during the week, and cook for that night and Sunday night if they had the time. With Count Olaf and his troupe at play practice or some other strange, often bordering on illegal occurrence the Baudelaires didn't care to know the details about, this left the majority of the day at their disposal. Violet would work on a new invention to make their lives easier, Klaus would study in the library while Sunny looked through recipe books on loan from Justice Strauss's library.

And, guiltily, it granted them a few hours without Count Olaf. The Baudelaires had grown used to Olaf's presence in their lives, and it was fair to admit the siblings had learned a few things, more about human nature than theatre more often than not. Still, it was nice for the Baudelaires to engage in their former hobbies and activities, pretend they were the same children they were before the fire.

It wasn't easy to do such things with Count Olaf lurking about. Sure, the momentary ceasefire didn't make up the other six days of utter chaos they endured, but it was a much-anticipated reprieve the Baudelaires reveled in.

"So you two want to - "

Any further plans the Baudelaires may have had were immediately off the table at the sound of Count Olaf's car screeching to a grating halt in the driveway.

"Uh oh," Sunny babbled.

"Yeah, he's back early," Klaus agreed. It was barely past 10 o'clock, he noticed with a glance at the giant clock in the living room. Yes, that was way too early.

Still, the chorus of Olaf's troupe rang from the sputtering car outside, their toon out of sync and saturated with cheap and probably unpaid for liquor.

"Oh no," Klaus groaned as he and his sisters peeked out the living room window. "They are drunk."

Violet winced as the troupe member of indeterminate gender swayed into the mailbox, the bald man glancing back long enough to grab them by the ankle and drag them up the pathway. Count Olaf lingered by the car, leaning against the hood in a way that meant he was the one who drove them back but should not have been the one to do so.

"Okay," she breathed. "We can do this."

"We've done it before," Klaus shuddered.

"Too many times," Sunny babbled.

"Right," Klaus said as he placed Sunny to her feet. "Sunny, go make as much coffee as you can. And I think there are some sandwiches left in the refrigerator."

"Toppy," Sunny babbled, which meant something along the lines of: "I know what's in my kitchen, thanks."

Violet was already tying up her hair when Klaus joined her in the entryway. They could hear the troupe's caterwauling grow louder the closer they got. Klaus was already poised at the door, ready to let the personified chaos hoard in.

The doorknob shook as the troupe struggled to enter, finding the situation much more humorous than it was.

Klaus took a deep breath, gripping the elaborate door handle with a sweaty palm.

"Ready?"

Violet gulped. "No, but..."

"Yep..." With that, Klaus grabbed the door handle and yanked - just missing the hook-handed man's hook.

"Oh!" he laughed, patting Klaus' hair. "Sorry youuuuu!"

Klaus swatted away the cackling man's hooks and then the other troupe members grazed as they pushed and pet him.

"Great Scott, they're completely inebriated!" Klaus called to his sister as she ran ahead of the troupe, moving some of the more breakable items of Count Olaf's hoard out of their path.

The Baudelaires developed this system early in their arrival. Following the predictable moves of Olaf and the parade of drunks and how those steps intertwined with the placement of the count's things helped them protect said things from damage, not to mention Olaf's misplaced blame the following morning.

"I swear I will have to drain your fortune when I get my hands on it just to replace all the damage you orphans have caused!" he often bellowed the morning after a craze as Violet, Klaus and Sunny, on their hands and knees, picked up and swept away broken glass and porcelain.

"You and your troupe did this!" Klaus groaned for the hundredth time in his and his sisters' defense.

"Besides, you can't charge us since you stole half of this -"

"Zip it!"

Anyway, it was one less chore to do the next morning. And so far, their well-choreographed operation was working brilliantly.

Klaus wiped his brow as he and Violet finished subliminally leading the troupe members to the living room to sober up. There were throw pillows all about the living room as Count Olaf's troupe began to drop left and right, their most vulnerable body parts protected from the corners of dangerous furniture pieces. Sunny was pushing a rickety metal cart with strong coffee and sandwiches of various combinations to them, quickly moving away as the drunks swarmed on the food.

Violet sighed tiredly but nodded with satisfaction. "That went great."

"Surprisingly great," Klaus said, looking around the room before grimacing. "Too great. Where's Olaf?"

Violet tensed as she looked around the foyer for their wayward guardian. Usually not seeking Count Olaf lingering about the first floor, watching their every move, mocking their grief or their inability to complete some of his more obscene chores. But with his troupe here and he very obviously not, certainly something was amiss.

"Sunny, watch them for a minute, okay?"

"Caup!" Sunny scolded, her babble coming out to, "Oh great, thanks!"

Violet and Klaus carefully looked around the foyer and dining room just in case he'd taken a detour or passed out somewhere. Klaus jogged outside to check the car, pausing at the sight of the obscure car's wide-open driver door. All the lights were on as well, the cloudy headlights glaring two orange beams into the neighborhood. The young scholar gulped, looking into the dark night and hoping nothing was out there.

A light yelp nearly made Klaus, figuratively and literally, jump out of his skin. He was back in the foyer in five very long struts.

"Violet what's..." He followed the hand that wasn't clutched over Violet's chest to the staircase where Count

Olaf was curled into a very tight ball, clutching at the ragged staircase fabric as if the weary threads would keep him in place.

"What..."

"I don't know," Violet gasped. "I checked to see if he came through the back door and he was here when I got back."

The siblings dared stepped closer, trying to access Count Olaf's state in the limited stairway light.

"Look," Klaus pointed at Olaf's forehead.

"He's bleeding," Violet observed before turning her frown to Klaus. "We've never had to carry him upstairs

before."

"What's that thing dad used to say?" Klaus mused. "There's a first time for everything?"

Violet chuckled fondly. "I guess this is that first."

Klaus shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow as he tried to assess how to touch him without...touching...him.

Violet shrugged, very much on the same page with her brother. She tentatively grabbed at Olaf's coat sleeve, testing the cloths' strength.

"Maybe we could - "

Violet never finished that thought. It wouldn't be her who solved the dilemma of getting Count Olaf to bed at all. All ideas froze inside the young inventor's head when Olaf suddenly sprang up and grabbed her wrist, yanking her down hard to his level on the stairs.

"You!" Olaf snarled, his breath so heavy with liquor Violet's began to water, but it was the terror she felt from him suddenly grabbing her that caused them to spill down her cheeks. Despite living in his home for months and having what she thought was every insult, every bit of hate he stored in his body thrown their way, he had never looked at them the way he was now. Like he wanted nothing more than to watch them die.

With his glare resting solely on her, it was like all that rage and hate seeping off him was directed at Violet.

And Violet felt devoured by it.

"You killed him! Why Bea? Why would you..."

His words began to jumble together as exhaustion began to take hold of him. Klaus used the opportunity to unravel Olaf's fingers from Violet's arm and pulled her free.

"You okay?" Klaus inquired as he looked Violet over, gently grazing over where Olaf had grabbed her, the patch of skin was red and warm from his grip.

Violet nodded, daring to look at the mysterious, unconscious man on the stairs.They watched in astonishment as he twitched about, muttering strange words and names neither Baudelaire could quite make out. He began to still a few moments later, but his fingers continued to flex at a space on the stair just above his head.

This time it was Klaus who reached out to test the consciousness of the count. Olaf retaliated once more, but it was a much weaker attempt and mainly consisted of hissing, of all things.

"Just...move," Klaus growled as he pulled on Olaf's arms.

"No," Count Olaf groaned out suddenly, the word leaving his throat sharp and alarmed. "Don't move me! I want to stay with him!"

"Him?" Klaus muttered, looking at the space of stairs Olaf was clutching at. "Stay with who? There's no one here."

"He..." Olaf sputtered off, slipping into unconsciousness as the alcohol finally finished seeping into his bones.

Klaus and Violet looked at each other with concern as Olaf snored unevenly. Neither thought their guardian could conjure anything but bitterness and sarcasm. Unfortunately, they were very wrong.

"Here," Klaus instructed, taking one of Olaf's arms and throwing it over his shoulder. After making sure Olaf was still very unconscious, Violet followed suit, and other than the strange angle the siblings had to walk in to get up the staircase, she and Klaus got Olaf to bed with little trouble. Klaus situated the count on his stomach while Violet pulled off his jacket. She wanted him to be somewhat comfortable but blushed at the idea of taking off his belt - and grimaced at the idea of touching his shoes.

"He's fine," Klaus said, nose wrinkled. "He can undress himself when he wakes up."

Violet nodded, quickly grabbing a glass off his dresser and filling it with water from the connected bathroom as Klaus covered him, checking his breathing once more. He watched how Violet lingered next to him for a moment longer but turned to follow her brother, eyes cast down.

Klaus closed the door after her, sighing tiredly as they went downstairs to join their youngest sister. Sunny was sitting on the edge of the dining room table, the members of Olaf's troupe snoring in the places they passed out in. Sunny had not through and covered each of them with whatever blanket or covering they had.

"Great job," Violet said as she picked her up. Sunny shrugged as she yawned and rubbed her face.

The siblings turned off any light they saw as they dropped the coffee things in the sink to deal with in the morning. They shared a groan at the mention of tomorrow, of the messes and the strange schemes that only got them into trouble.

Klaus turned to comment on the matter to Violet but found her gazing at the darkened door at the end of the hall.

"Bea? Do you he was talking about Mom?" she inquired softly.

Their mother's nickname weighed heavily in the hall, somehow tainted not just from being spoken in the thick, dusty air. Klaus wanted to answer her, wanted to bring up good, loving memories of their mother. But all he could think about was the sheer hate in Count Olaf's voice when he said her name and the bruise forming on Violet's arm. He didn't want to think of what strange way that man wanted to sully his mother's name.

"Don't let him get to you, Vi," Klaus whispered. "He's a lush. Nothing he says makes sense."

Violet shrugged. "It's very specific, don't you think?"

Klaus hummed as he turned on his bedside table. "He knew our parents. We knew that already."

"Hard stuff?" Sunny guessed.

"Yeah," Violet muttered, unsatisfied but too tired to prod the issue much further.

The siblings tucked themselves in and turned the lights out, sparing no further thoughts to the strange man at the end of the hall or the other unanswered questions that seemed to slip further and further into obscurity.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #asoue fic #violet baudelaire #count olaf #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #family on fire verse

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fiixer · 9 months

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“Jordi?” A gruff hum leaves Aiden’s lips before he squints at his companion, “What did you say? I can’t hear you down there.” And then his lips twitch, a smile threatening to appear, if he wasn’t trying so hard to put on his normal air of nonchalance.

unprompted // @vryolakas

Really? Aiden really wants to start down this road, huh?

Okay, sure, that's a choice.

One upon a time, this would count for taboo between them. Invisible lines in the sand marked boundaries neither dared or cared to cross, too wrapped up in their own worlds to make the connection, to see what may have built years prior, had their focus been allowed to branch. Anything akin to friendliness between them was all business, nothing more. At the time, that was okay. He'd preferred it that way, as it avoided the inevitable mess if and when things went south between them. Over time, though, everything began to change. No longer was it off limits in their world to spend their free moments sharing each other's company solely for the sake of doing so, thus here they stand on the balcony of Jordi's posh apartment and talk like friends. Still it remains a strange thought. It's one of many new pleasantries with which he's struggling to acclimate, but he's trying, if only for the fact that Aiden, too, seems to be in the same boat. And apparently, sharing that boat meant jibes about the height difference between them. One. Single. Goddamn. Inch.

Any variation of fuck you would theoretically suffice, but were it not for one little detail. Jordi caught it, that telling twitch at the corner of Aiden's lips, a sight as rare as chicken teeth that borders on disarming. For anyone else, perhaps it – well, to be frank, anyone else may have missed it completely, but he can't. He knows Aiden far too well to miss something like that, because it is so unusual a sight. Because of all those years when that never happened, and now that it's allowed, it's a breath of fresh air he can't refuse.

And, most importantly, because of the soft blow to his pride. The ass. Whatever, that's fine, two can play that game.

"Oh, Aiden, Aiden, Aiden - I know you're proud of that inch, and you really … don't have much else going on for you, so y'know what? I won't take it away from you, but, uh -" A breath of a pause, the corner of his lips traitorously tempted to mimic the little flash he caught on Aiden not a second prior. A hand claps to Aiden's shoulder, a poor mockery of a gesture meant as comforting. "I think I'm seeing the real problem here. You keep denying it and putting it off, but I think it's time."

"What d'ya say, we take you for those hearing aides today?"

#v; bend the rules #vrykolakas

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lunapwrites · 11 months

Text

Interview Music Tag Game

RULES: Put your playlist on shuffle. For each of the 10 interview questions, select a lyric from the random song that comes up. (Skip if there aren't any lyrics and make sure to drop the name of the song in your interview answer!) ❤️

(Many thanks to the supremely lovely @femme--de--lettres for the tag, this is 100% my shit.)

So uh. I used my "liked music" playlist for this (which has been compiling music for a decade) so it wouldn't have a particular flavor, and apparently it chose one anyway, and that flavor was violence.

I apologize beforehand lmao.

1. First off, how would you describe yourself in one sentence?

"But I'm okay in see-through skin; I forgive what is within 'cause I'm in this house, I'm in this home all my time." - Crystals, Of Monsters and Men.

2. What kind of [Cancer] are you?

"Holding our breath now, we're screaming without sound, we're trembling as everything falls completely apart." - The Calamity, Trivium

3. You're visiting your favorite spot. What are you thinking about?

"Drift in and out, the light of the morning drags me back. I need release. Separate this body from my mind." - Ebb And Flow, Misery Signals

4. If your life was a movie, what do you think the first review would say about it?

"Finding a way to die alone is better than what I was shown." - Dissociation, The Dillinger Escape Plan (ouch.)

5. Say you get a book deal, what are you titling your memoir?

"Sidetracked." - Low Light, Pearl Jam

6. What would you say about your best friends?

"So believe in me, believe them, you think I'll let you down? Well I won't." - You Won't Know, Brand New

7. Think back to when you had everything figured out in high school, what was your life motto as a teenager?

"You have to live before you die young." - Ghost of Perdition, Opeth

8. Describe your aesthetic now.

"I walk to the borders on my own and fall in the water just like a stone, chilled to the marrow in them bones - why do I go here all alone?" - Riverside, Agnes Obel

9. What's a lyric that they'll quote in your eulogy?

"Who else would take your place and hold and keep me safe?" - Marked For Death, Emma Ruth Rundle

10. And for our final question, say we believe in soulmates, what do you think their first impression of meeting you will be?

"Gorgeous was his savior, sees her drowning in his wake." - Tremor Christ, Pearl Jam

RUDE OF YOU, SPOTIFY. VERY RUDE.

Also because I'm The Most, I've compiled this all into a separate playlist. So enjoy or something.

Anyway I am going to tag @bluesundaycake @allalrightagain aaaaand maybe @felixantares would also like to play. :) And of course, anyone who I may have neglected to add while I'm suffering from mortal wounds over here lol.

#tag game #responses #interview music #these are deep cuts #doubled that entendre ha #real talk though #that misery signals album #is hands down one of the best of its genre #no skips #immaculate #but also mean to me #using dillinger to insult me I'm wounded #also apparently my aesthetic is pathetic wet cat of a person #which #fair. i guess.#lp listens

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piccolina-mina · 2 years

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YOU WATCHED THE WILDS!!!! FINALLY.

"My chaotic (if we must) het ship pairings are more cracked and unexpected, so I actually think Martha and Kirin..."

Alright, spill! Marty and Kirin? You kinda sold me a bit. I thought Marty/Josh or Marty/Bo... But now I need you to tell me the others cuz... what? You have my attention.

I did. I did Yellowjackets and The Wilds back to back. Loved them both.

Hahaha! I haven't goofed off with ship stuff in a minute, so bear with me. Also, don't judge.

Martha & Kirin- Yes. Martha is such a truly sweet girl, but she also has some fire to her, and I think someone like Kirin will bring that out and love every second of it. Martha will not take any of Kirin's shit. She'll call him out like crazy BUT she's also the only girl who will probably see through his dude bro persona instantly, and she'll make him feel seen. And that's something he doesn't get often and will respond to... her softness and sweetness. Her nurturing gentleness. Whatever Kirin's background is, because clearly he has a rough one, Martha gives him what he needs and craves. I think he fronts as a lothario type, but I think his sexual experience doesn't instantly make him an asshole. I think he's experienced but can be gentle, patient and soft with Martha as she pushes her boundaries with sex. He can make her feel comfortable. He's clearly very protective of people, likely from his personal experiences, so he's a guy, an actual male figure that makes Martha feel safe while also drawing her out of her shell and making her laugh.

Fatin & Scotty- Hear me out, the tol queen short king energy is just too good to pass up. Both will literally cut a bish to protect their people. Just totally fierce, protective, cares too much while trying to pretend they don't care at all qualities. They would have the best flirty banter that borders on ribbing each other but ends up being sweet. Scotty is mouthy as hell so he talks a good game but when Fatin offers to take him up on it, the boy is shook, but mark him down as scared and horny. Fatin will have him wrapped around her finger, and he'll enjoy every second of it. They're both used to both leaning into and yet turning preconceptions about them on their heads, so they'd have a mutual respect because of that. They're both savvy, quick witted, and sharp tongued... their outlook on life is somewhat similar too. And it's amusing that the rich girl and the kid from the other side of the tracks would gel so well together. It explores some interesting things with Scotty who grew up knowing he had to get his or get got and Fatin is the girl who had it all and knows the game too. They're both hustlers. Both driven. He'd literally spin the hell out of this situation and see her star potential... they basically would have all the power couple vibes.

Dot & Henry- I mean for their similar dry, sarcastic, dark humor alone, this would be the sh*t. Survivalist baes, they'd probably have the nerdiest, darkest, realest conversations. I can totally see them quoting song lyrics and debating which bands are best. They're both incredibly observant and keyed in on human behavior, and it would draw them to each other. Because they'd both succeed in getting through to the other when they aren't okay and it slips under the radar. They're both used to people turning to them, so they have this space to confide in each other or just be...because they don't have the answers to everything. Henry is used to not being seen and sort of blending into the background and in a way, Dot has the same quality. They'd see and get each other though. Henry takes some of the burden and weight of responsibility off of Dot which she always needs. And Dot gives Henry a judgment free zone while also serving as his gateway into actually bonding with others. They can both handle the darker parts of one another without fear of judgment and just feeling safe in that.

Rachel & Josh- I know this is totally wild, but just go with it. Because of her lifestyle, diving, being this star athlete and pushing herself to the extreme in limits, you get the distinct feeling that Rachel never had time to just be a teen girl, experiencing typical teen girl stuff. She wasn't allowed to be a young woman, only a machine. She ate, slept, and lived her sport. There wasn't any space for dating or entertaining romance like that, and as self assured, confident, headstong and dominant she comes across, she's likely inexperienced in a way. And she's probably used to coming off too strong, hence why Nora's boyfriend found her intimidating among other things. I think Josh is soft and kind. He can handle Rachel's strong presence and if anything, he'll be drawn to it. He can pull out that softer side of her that she's not used to showing, and she can let her guard down with him because he's more submissive and not threatening... and he'll probably make her think of Nora a bit, and she has a renewed appreciation and fondness for how her sister balanced her out. But Josh can make Rachel feel wanted and longed for something other than being a spectacular athlete, and he'd appreciate her strength instead of trying to change it, and it'll probably be refreshing and new to her that someone can find those qualities often deemed bad or unattractive in a woman beautiful and attractive.

Meanwhile, Rachel could find an unexpected kinship with Josh. Their dynamic will have some entertaining points when he's rambling too much and she barks at him to STFU, but it would work for them because they wouldn't hold things against each other. Rachel wouldn't coddle him. She wouldn't treat him differently as a victim. Josh has an unexpected darkness, bitterness, and jadedness to him that would intrigue and be relatable to Rachel. She'd encourage him to be real... really settle into all parts of himself. They would be this fascination harmonious dichotomy. This really interesting feminine/masculine energy where they have heaps of both and draw one or the other out of each other or counter each other in that regard which again makes them oddly harmonious. But Josh definitely has a lot of love to give because he doesn't get much in his former life, and Rachel is someone who hasn't opened herself up to be loved until she got to the island and definitely not romantically.

---

So yeah. As I said, my Wilds het ships are cracked and not the most obvious routes to take.

#the wilds #the wilds season 2

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ismahanescorner · 4 months

Text

The Remnant Chronicles | Series Review

Author: Mary E. Pearson

Genre: YA Fantasy, Romance

Publisher: Henry Holt & Co

Release Date: 08/07/2014 - 07/07/2015 - 02/08/2016

Rating: 3.75/5 🌟

Synopsis:

The Kiss of Deception: 4/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟 In a society steeped in tradition, Princess Lia’s life follows a preordained course. As First Daughter, she is expected to have the revered gift of sight—but she doesn’t—and she knows her parents are perpetrating a sham when they arrange her marriage to secure an alliance with a neighboring kingdom—to a prince she has never met. On the morning of her wedding, Lia flees to a distant village. She settles into a new life, hopeful when two mysterious and handsome strangers arrive—and unaware that one is the jilted prince and the other an assassin sent to kill her. Deception abounds, and Lia finds herself on the brink of unlocking perilous secrets—even as she finds herself falling in love.

The Heart of Betrayal: 3/5 🌟🌟🌟 Held captive in the barbarian kingdom of Venda, Lia and Rafe have little chance of escape . . . and even less of being together. Desperate to save her life, Lia's erstwhile assassin, Kaden, has told the Vendan Komisar that she has a magical gift, and the Komisar's interest in Lia is greater than either Kaden or Lia foresaw. Meanwhile, the foundations of Lia's deeply-held beliefs are crumbling beneath her. Nothing is straightforward: there's Rafe, who lied to her, but has sacrificed his freedom to protect her; Kaden, who meant to assassinate her but has now saved her life; and the Vendans, whom she always believed to be barbarians but whom she now realizes are people who have been terribly brutalized by the kingdoms of Dalbreck and Morrighan. Wrestling with her upbringing, her gift, and her very sense of self, Lia will have to make powerful choices that affect her country, her people . . . and her own destiny.

The Beauty of Darkness: 3.75/5 🌟🌟🌟 💫 Lia has survived Venda—but so has a great evil bent on the destruction of Morrighan. And only Lia can stop it. With war on the horizon, Lia has no choice but to assume her role as First Daughter, as soldier—as leader. While she struggles to reach Morrighan and warn them, she finds herself at cross-purposes with Rafe and suspicious of Kaden, who has hunted her down. In this conclusion to the Remnant Chronicles trilogy, traitors must be rooted out, sacrifices must be made, and impossible odds must be overcome as the future of every kingdom hangs in the balance.

Review:

BOOK ONE:

okay, so yeah, this one actually lives up to the adequate hype it has! honestly, it should have more hype since it’s much better and well plotted than most new releases!

anyways, the first half of the book was a game of who’s who?! and it legit had me pulling my hairs out!!! cuz i sooo wanted her to fall for the prince but these shitty stories always have the princess falling for the rugged broke bitch … ugh!! i was all nerves!!! thankfully, around the 70% mark, we get the truth out !!! anywho, really like this one. i’ll be picking up the next in a couple of days! highly recommend the audiobook too!!

BOOK TWO:

unfortunately, this one suffered from “sequel blues”! it wasn’t bad per se, but it didn’t have the mystery element of the first one that kept me reading! that element could have easily been swapped for who is “the betrayer” the book is named after (ie: **** ******)! the exposition of the events wasn’t as gripping as in the first book either! still the ending offered a good fight scene and a resolution to the current situation so i’m not too mad at the book!

I hope the final book is more like the first than the second!!

BOOK THREE:

this one wasn’t as gripping and thrilling as the first, but it didn’t suffer from sequel blues like the second. the events that transpired in the last 10% weren’t exactly my cup of tea and brought my overall enjoyment down, thus the 3 stars instead of 4 stars! hey at least we got peace and no stupid draconian border treaties!!

📷 Mary E. Pearson on Twitter.

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skionline · 2 years

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Persona 4 golden switch

This may not be a use case many players run into, but it is frustrating-especially because Persona 4 is such a long game, it's well-suited to cloud saves letting you swap to a laptop to play away from the desk. When I played more on my desktop and loaded into a different save file on my laptop, however, the game played just fine. I couldn't tell what triggered the crash, as it didn't always happen at the same moment, but I couldn't progress more than a few minutes before crashing. On my laptop, I picked up from a save file I'd started on desktop (thankfully Atlus built in Steam Cloud support) and kept experiencing a crash within five minutes of playing. This happened three times in a row, but I was eventually able to successfully apply my changes and play the game with no issues afterwards. On my desktop, I found a recurring crash that triggered when I changed the game's resolution setting in fullscreen mode. On both desktop and laptop, I've experienced some odd and abrupt crashes to desktop with P4G. (Image credit: Atlus) There are a few issues, including crashing There's thankfully a fast-forward option for cutscenes, but I wish it didn't make a VHS tape-scrubbing noise the whole time. Disabling V-Sync, for some reason, seems to cause the limit mentioned above. Update: With V-Sync enabled, P4G can actually run up to 144 fps and above. It would've been nice to be able to lock the framerate to 144 fps on a high refresh monitor, but for a game that's mostly dialogue and turn-based combat, it's a minor quibble. On both desktops, the framerate stopped short of hitting the 130 fps mark, which seems like it might be a limitation of the game engine. On the GTX 980 desktop with the rendering resolution set to 200%, the framerate fluctuate quite a bit, from around 60 fps up to 125 fps, but I never noticed any stutter or issues from the changing FPS. I'd be fine playing through the whole game on my laptop with those occasional dips, since the VO kept playing unimpeded. It's bordering on visual novel territory-point being, while the graphics are there to add personality to a scene, the animation tends to be pretty simple and simply augment the dialogue. Outside of combat, Persona is a very dialogue heavy game. But even then the VO played just fine without slowdown. I only encountered one scene, with a large number of 3D characters on-screen at once, where the framerate dipped below 30 fps and was noticeably sluggish. Performance wasn't great, but mostly fluctuated between 30 and 40 fps, bouncing as high as 60 fps if there wasn't much going on on-screen.

I played a couple hours of Persona 4 on the laptop, running at 1920x1080 and 100% resolution scaling. The integrated HD Graphics 520 weren't exactly powerful in 2015, and are basically decrepit now. Unsurprisingly, the game runs well on both desktops, but it's also playable on my laptop, running nearly five year old hardware.

Laptop: i5-6200U, Intel HD Graphics 520, 8GB RAM.

I tested Persona 4 Golden on three PCs with a range of hardware:

I think even with serviceable mouse/keyboard controls, the game will still be most comfortably played with a controller. Q and E pan the camera, which works okay. Unfortunately it doesn't let you use the mouse to control the camera in-game (though you can click to recenter the camera behind you). Unlike some other PC ports of older console games, Persona 4 supports the mouse in menus, so it feels like a proper PC game, though with a bit of residual weirdness. It would be nice to see an in-game limiter with options like 30, 60, 144, etc., but still, it's wonderful to see a Japanese PC port of a decade-old game with an unlocked framerate. But that's because it's seemingly unlocked (a bit more detail on this in the performance section below). No fancy options here, and at first I was worried not to see framerate listed at all.

Keyboard (not pictured: Customizable keybinds for each input.

Audio language (not pictured): Choose between English and Japanese voices.

I did notice some screen tearing on a low-end system with it disabled, but if you have a variable refresh rate monitor, you likely won't need V-Sync. Thanks to rendering scale, not much reason to choose a resolution other than native.

Display: Resolution - Configurable in fullscreen or windowed.

Display: Screen mode - Windowed, Fullscreen, Borderless.

Graphics: Anti-aliasing - On or off only.Shadows have Low, Medium, High, while anisotropic filtering only has Low, High, and Off. Graphics: Anisotropic filtering and Shadow quality - Very basic options here.Graphics: Rendering scale - 25% increments all the way up to 200%, letting you run the game at lower than your display resolution, or supersample from a much higher res.

#Persona 4 golden switch

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

iii. Luthor

read on ao3

She got hit by a bus. She definitely got hit by a bus.

No, no, wait.

She's-

"You're awake. Oh, thank God."

When her eyes blink open, it's to the extremely bright florescent lights of the DEO med bay. Senses come back to her slowly; the sharp smell of alcohol, the dry cool sheets against her skin, and Alex.

Alex's voice, then her heartbeat.

She tries to sit up but Alex puts a hand on her shoulder, gently pushes her back down.

"Ugh," she groans as dizziness overtakes her. "How long was I out?"

"30 hours, give or take. You need to take it easy, Kara,” her sister sighs. “You’re lucky we got to you when we did. Lillian got away though, I’m sorry.”

“T-they had Kryptonite, Alex.”

“I know.”

She breathes in deep, lets it out through parted lips, hand coming up to massage her temple.

“Lena? Where’s Lena?”

“Nia said she found her passed out on your bed,” Alex says, adjusting the sunlamps so it isn’t glaring into Kara’s face. “She’s been staying vigil by your side since yesterday. That woman needs to learn how to rest. I swear to God, the both of you—”

“What?” she asks.

“I wanna go home,” she tells her. Alex makes a sound of protest, so Kara argues, “You know you hit two stones with one bird if you keep us together.”

She hears Alex halt in her movements.

She squints against the remaining brightness of the unadjusted sunlamp. Her sister arms frozen mid-way.

Alex is giving her a strange look.

Alex’s eyes narrow at her.

“What did you say?” Alex demands. “Just now, what did you say? Did you say two stones with one bird?”

Kara shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts enough to rewind back the last few seconds. She finds she can’t remember. She was saying something about Lena, about-

Going home?????

Her head feels fuzzy. Heavy.

“Mm’sorry must still be a bit out of it.”

“I’m doing another scan,” her sister says, words final and Kara groans loudly.

“Ughh, Alex. Please. I want to go home. There’s probably nothing wrong.”

Alex wheels her out nonetheless.

******

Something is wrong.

Something is very wrong.

“Alex?”

She doesn’t understand, why is- why does Alex look like that? Alex’s eyes are bloodshot. What- Why is her head fuzzy? Why is she-

She pulls a hand to her temple. She can’t. A metallic clang echoes.

She’s cuffed; strapped and held-down. There are restraints around her ankles, her waist even.

And then it occurs to her, the whole room is bathed in red.

Red sun emulators.

What?

Why?

There is a familiar buzzing in her ears, too. Tinny. Painful.

Kryptonite.

“Alex,” she croaks.

Her sister is standing stiffly at the far end of the bed (if you can even call this piece of metal a bed.). Her lips set in a thin line. There are dark bags under her eyes. Kara feels like shit. But Alex, Alex looks like shit.

“W-what’s happening? Wha- why am I—”

Rao, even her mouth feels disgusting.

“Wha-what happened?”

******

Game night comes early. It’s only the middle of the week, but everyone had decided to camp out at Kara’s living room floor after her kidnapping and mini-coma adventure just last night. So, Wednesday game night it is.

Everything is warm and good, Kara thinks, as she hums contently under her breath.

She’s filled with potstickers and wine. Her head on Alex’s lap, her sock-clad feet and calf being massaged by Lena on the opposite end. Nia is laughing loudly at something Kelly said, and Kara lets herself melt against the couch cushions.

“Darling,” Lena says, tapping a hand on her thigh. Kara looks at her, sees her gesturing at her empty glass, and promptly removes her legs off of her lap.

Alex’s fingers stop running through her scalp, as she reaches across to hand Lena her wine glass, too.

“Hey, Luthor, can you also-”

Everything goes black.

******

It happens so fast.

Alex was just deciding whether or not to switch from wine to brandy, when Kara lunges straight for Lena.

J’onn instantly transforms into Martian form at the commotion, and Alex is still sitting there; stunned, wine glass still clutched by the stem, as she watches Kara pin Lena to the floor, as she hears Lena shriek, as the room bursts into action.

Alex sees the glow of Kara’s eyelids, and it sparks her into action. She jumps from the couch and latches onto Kara’s back.

Her hands press into her sister’s eyes and immediately she can feel the heat filter through her skin. “J’onn!!” she shouts, Alex manages to pull Kara off of Lena, as J’onn grabs the brunette to safety.

Kara growls, stands up with Alex clinging. Kara grabs her, flips her over. She crashes on the floor with a sickening thud. Kelly gasps out her name. From here, she can see how Nia has wrapped her girlfriend and Lena into a bubble of forcefield.

Just as Kara is about to turn around and head for Lena, J’onn flies straight at her, grabs her sister by the arm, and crashes into Kara’s TV. J’onn manages to wrestle her into his grip, and he flies them out through Kara’s window.

Brainy picks her up from the floor. Her heart is beating so fast in her chest. How did she miss this? What has gotten into Kara?

Alex is panicking, all of them are panicking really.

What the fuck just happened?

“Brainy,” Alex says, voice firm, the cloudiness from the alcohol finally clearing. “Get the Legion ship, we need to track down Kara and J’onn. Disperse Kryptonite on sight. We have to detain her.”

Alex looks around the room, Nia retracts her forcefield, Kelly goes straight for her.

“Go,” Kelly says, “I’ll take care of the neighbors, I’ll take care of the mess here. Go. Find Kara.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Nia pipes up and Alex gives her a stiff nod.

She looks at Lena, red marks already blossoming on her neck.

“Are you o-”

“Do not ask me that.” Lena warns. “Now, let’s go. I’m coming with you.”

******

“You’re in the Legion ship,” Alex tells her sister, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

The base of her skull throbs with pain. “I-I don’t- I can’t remember. Ugh. Alex, can you- can you turn down the Kryptonite? Please, please?”

“I can’t, Kara. I’m sorry, please. I can’t-”

“Why?” Kara rasps out, her eyes closing shut.

“I need you to listen to me, Kara,” her sister says, she hears her stepping closer. “I need you to keep calm when I tell you.”

Kara’s heart beats faster, skin crawling at every awful thought curling from the depths of her mind.

“I-I’m calm. I’ll keep calm,” she promises, “please, Alex. Please, tell me.”

“CADMUS did something to you, Kara.”

******

Kara’s going to be sick.

She hurt Lena. Oh, Rao, she hurt Lena.

“Kara, Kara, listen to me.” Alex’s voice is distant, far-away. “Lena is fine. She’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

But it was her fault. She hurt her, her hands wrapped around Lena’s fragile human neck, and she almost lasered two holes into her pretty skull.

Oh, Rao. She almost killed her.

“Don’t let her near me,” she instructs, voice firm but eyes flashing with unshed tears.

“Kara, no. I don’t think she—”

“No. No, Alex, listen to me,” she urges her sister.

“Keep her away from me.”

*****

There are wires connected to her temple and her spine.

Brainy is sitting next to her bed, typing away on a little screen in front of him.

Her hippocampus and most of her somatic nervous system were experimented on, it seems. It was Kelly who cracked it, they tell her.

Kara’s brain was reconditioned in the short amount of time she spent in that CADMUS facility. A code word implanted to trigger her.

Luthor.

What a cruel joke.

*****

The next time Kara wakes, she is warm.

So warm, and-

Not alone.

She gasps loud. Lena is here. Lena is tucked to her side. Her breaths tickling Kara’s collarbone.

Lena is not supposed to be here.

Kara’s squirming seems to rouse her.

“Mmmm, stop thinking so loud, 'm trying to sleep.”

“Lena—” Her voice is bordering on hysterical.

“Shhhhh.” Lena shifts, ignoring Kara’s racing heart, ignoring Kara’s protests, just presses closer to her, lips kissing her collarbone.

“Nothing could ever keep me away from you, y'know," she slurs sleepily, "not even you, Kara Zor-El.”

Lena’s eyes are still closed, and Rao, Kara doesn’t even remember the last time she saw her like this. So pretty, so peaceful, so relaxed.

“Lena, you’re not supposed to be here. It’s not safe. Please, listen to me.”

Tears fall down from Kara’s cheek onto Lena’s skin. The contact seems to finally wake Lena.

“Oh, oh, darling,” she coos, hands coming up to cup Kara’s face. The blonde leans into the touch, presses her lips to Lena's palm, uses the touch to stifle her sobs.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Kara. You’re not,” Lena tells her, resolute and so full of trust.

Kara can still see the marks on Lena’s neck where her fingers have dug into her skin, and this time a sob breaks free from her throat.

“Lena, I could hurt you, please. Please, leave now.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena murmurs, “you know I could never do that.”

Why is she so effin stubborn?

“I’m not scared of you, you know?” Lena whispers. She hooks a finger under Kara’s chin, “Look at me, look at me, Kara. I am not afraid of you. I am not going to leave you. I will never leave you.”

“You don’t understand. Lena, I hurt you.”

“No,” Lena answers her, “no, you did not hurt me. They made you hurt me. That wasn’t you, Kara. You will never hurt me.”

“No,” Kara echoes, voice breaking, eyes shining, “no, I would never hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Lena wipes the tears flowing on her cheeks, kisses them away. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Nothing can keep me away from you, you hear me?” Lena tells her, and all Kara can do is nod silently, sniffling. Lena presses a soft kiss to her lips and lets Kara break apart in her arms.

#do i think this fic is a disaster?#yes yes i do.#but im still gonna post it cos duh.#hopefully tomorrow's prompt will be better #AND HOPEFULLY IT'LL BE FLUFFY.#self can u please stop with the angst now?#supercorptober 2021 #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #if u see a typo no u didnt

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