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cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 year

Text

Civilian Asset 3.

Polyamorous/femme/female reader x multiple

Summary: Things go from bad to worse.

Master List / Prev chapter

Warnings: 18+, Mild/brief self harm (over-washing), language, peril, first aid/wound care, discussion of terrorism, emotional break downs

Tagging: A couple folks have asked about tagging. Unfortunately tagging breaks my posts, so I don't keep lists. But I DO reply to each comment on each chapter when I post something new. So it's like a hand-written invitation delivered by butler to your inbox.

A/N: Thank you for your continued support! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Barely edited, but made with love. Keeping chapters short for quicker updates, so that Soap teaser I dropped will actually be in 4. My bad.

You can’t think beyond my face hurts and I thought I died.

The men to either side have you packed in tight, shoulders pressing against yours, knees bumping with every sway and turn. All four of the soldiers keep their eyes on the passing landscape and the road leading through it. The men only speak to make note of potential tails, to confirm or deny the presence of new threats.

You left London a while back, and you’re in the patchwork of expanding towns spilling out beyond the green belt by the time you regain enough sense to notice.

You see very little. Fewer houses. More fields.

None of it really sinks in. The inside of the car smells like gun oil, sweat, and a coppery stink you know rises from your own clothes. Your own skin and hair and empty nail beds.

You let yourself disappear for a while. For maybe an hour, you let the static blanket your mind like snow. It’s like floating on the top of the lake, and if you break that surface tension, you’ll drown, so you let it blind your senses instead. So long as no one notices you, you don’t have to exist. You tell yourself it’s just for a minute, just for a bit, just until something else goes wrong and you have to remember pain, and fear, and whatever else makes up your life in the moment. The protective blur stretches on forever, and you lose track of time.

An itch pulls you back into your body. Eyes on you. Someone watching.

You glance up, and you meet death’s gaze in the rearview. There are eyes, but no face. Only a skull. For a brief instant you think of trying to jerk awake, like you would in a falling dream, because maybe the reaper isn’t real, unlike every other horror of the day. But then you notice the cloth beneath the bone and the military headgear.

It’s just a man in a mask, the one in the front passenger seat with the rifle you noticed as you piled in behind the Scotsman.

Skull-face blinks slowly, twice, confident you won’t look away while his eyes are closed, patiently enigmatic as a cat.

The SUV turns sharply onto a gravel track, and Skull-face turns back to the window, like he didn’t just stare you down through the mirror.

The uneven jolts as the tires dip into grooves and potholes drives away the last of the static. And you blink, eyes still on the mirror, trying to come to grips with reality.

What the actual fuck?

Around the bend, a farmhouse creeps into view. It sits low over the green turf, unassuming apart from old leaded windows that make it look too much like something out of a cottage core mood board for the situation. This isn’t a space for men with guns and tac vests.

But the man in the bucket hat taps on the brakes, nods, and says, “Ghost, Gaz: clear the house.” He doesn’t change gear. Doesn’t park. Even now, he’s ready for an ambush.

You don’t think the men who grabbed you were capable of thinking that far ahead. They did find the original safehouse, though, so maybe you should be a good civilian and keep those thoughts to yourself.

The Brit who clipped the zip ties off your wrists and helped you out of the warehouse pops out with a “Yes, sir.” So does the grim reaper up front. The doors slam shut again, and the two move in concert, guns raised, sights fixed on the windows and door as they approach. The man in the mask takes point, rushing through the door the instant his colleague turns the knob, and they disappear inside.

You’re uncomfortably aware of… everything. Your breath. The ants roving under your skin. The two men still in the car with you. It’s impossible to sit still, and you peer around your enclosure like a gerbil in a hamster ball – technically safe but in no control. The wind stirs the bushes at the edge of the driveway, and you imagine people behind them who move like your escorts. Cold. Efficient. And they’re already too close.

Your neck strains as you try to see through all the windows at once, struggling to catch a glimpse of doom before it drags you under.

“You broken?”

The leader, the man behind the wheel, must be addressing the Scot. It only registers he’s talking to you when you find said Scot watching you, too. There’s more room in the back now, but you still feel crowded and exposed in a horrible, nonsensical mess.

And – oh, right, the man is talking to you.

“Hey.” He doesn’t look through the mirror. He physically turns, arm over the back of the seat, so he can look you in the eye as he asks again, and his words come slow to your adrenaline-scoured brain. “Are you broken?”

You flounder. Puzzled. That… means what? You’re missing context. Is what broken? No bones. They didn’t – technically – hurt you that badly. Everything will fix itself in time. It could’ve been worse. You know that, even if in the moment all you want to do is sprint to the ends of the earth, find a blanket, and curl up in the darkest corner at the edge of the map.

Is he asking if you’re functional? If you can make it through debriefing?

That must be it.

And, fuck, you’d physically fight all four of them at this point if they tried to stop you from passing on the intelligence you’ve literally bled for.

“No.” You’re surprised by your own conviction (and how little your voice shakes). “Not broken.”

There’s an actual twinkle in his eye – and really, how dare he? – but his approval and the uptick of those bushy, bearded cheeks is the right kind of ridiculous in the moment. The Scot huffs beside you, but you don’t have the bandwidth for any more smirks, twinkles, or other bullshittery, so you keep your eyes forward and hope to fuck someone will tell you what to do. You can only hop between so many distractions before you miss a step and fall into a heaving mess on the floor.

“Good,” says Captain Fishing Hat. He turns back to the wheel just as Skull Face comes back.

The burly man signals, and as the boss finally turns off the engine, he opens the door and reports, “House is clear. Gaz is setting up for debrief.”

Gaz, then, must be the youngest Englishman. The Scot shifts, subtly ushering you out, and you scoot along as instructed, letting the men more or less herd you across the yard, through the door, into the kitchen. They keep their heads on a swivel, and that doesn’t help your nerves. Not at all. But they don’t give you time to stop and angst over it, either.

You find yourself in the kitchen, guided to one of four wooden chairs around a square table. It’s covered in tech. A black case sits open on one of the other seats, and the empty foam imprints inside match the boxes, cables, and laptop before you.

“Ready, Kyle?” Fishing Hat asks.

“Nearly, Captain,” Gaz replies. “Working on the connection now.”

So, Captain Fishing Hat is an actual captain. You aren’t shocked. Maybe in shock, but not surprised.

But as you sit where you’re told and watch the screen illuminate, a realization dawns on you. You won’t be debriefing to these men. Someone else at the other end of this connection is waiting for the whole story, and fear flutters to life in your gut like a startled pigeon. Loud, awkward, probably diseased.

What if you’ve misjudged all this? What if it’s a ploy? The enemy of your enemy is not always your friend, and the proper authorities aren’t the only ones hungry for the information you carry. Stiffening in your seat, you prepare for another fight, lifting the prickly guard you let drop as you knelt in the back of the SUV, clinging to the Scotsman’s tac vest.

Just as you’re glancing at the window over the kitchen sink and wondering if you jump high enough to break through the glass before any of the men grab you, a face appears on the screen, and the woman says your name.

You recognize her. Or at least her voice.

It’s the woman from the phone.

You physically droop against the back of the chair, gasping in relief.

Fuck. Fuck.

You’re going to be okay.

“Glad to see you in one piece,” she says.

“Me, too.” A rasp taints your voice, and you feel the phantom pressure of an arm crushing your trachea.

“Kate Laswell,” she introduces herself. “This is a secure line. Go ahead and tell me what you know.”

It’s easier than you expect. You’ve been thinking so much about everything you need to say, turning over pieces in your head, putting it into clearer words, ordering it by importance, that now it just flows. You lean forward, desperately ready to spill. But just because you’ve gathered everything into a coherent thread doesn’t make it any less painful to acknowledge. It’s like tugging up a string of barbed wire from your gut, pulling it out of your mouth inch by inch. You worry if you have to stop, the blades will lodge in your throat.

The woman is clearly a pro, though, and she saves her questions.

You list names first: people in American alphabet agencies with ties to a particularly violent white supremacist group. If there’s any chance they could be listening, she could end the call and try again in a secure location. But she must’ve guessed something was off when the official safehouse she sent you to was compromised. This time she’s prepared, and she lets you continue.

There’s a bomb, a new alliance with ultranationalists, someone named Makarov. It’s a test. To see if the American terrorists are as good as they say, if they’re worth Makarov’s investment. There’s a promise of more if they get the body count Makarov’s set (thousands).

The man whose blood you’ll always feel, slick between your fingers as you confused the thump of the nightclub’s base with your own pulse, kept his cover long enough to get the details of the attack. Date, location, time, target. He didn’t live long enough to give you more. He gave you what he thought was most important. You hope it’s enough. You hope it’s worth it.

Laswell thinks for a minute, then asks, “Did the men who kidnapped you indicate they knew how much of this information you possessed?”

“No. They, uh – that was the whole point, I think.” You lift you hand, so she can see the missing nails. “They wanted to know how compromised they were before they shot me.”

You say it so quickly it only clicks after it leaves your mouth. They were going to shoot you. You knew that, but away from the rough hands and zip ties it feels surreal. People like you don’t get shot. People like you have car accidents and a few too many fast food dinners for your general wellbeing. But the gun against your head was real. It’s a true thing that just happened, and that means people like you do get shot. Every safe, calm moment in your life looks like a lie, a skewed carnival mirror in retrospect.

People like you get shot.

People want to kill you.

You may still get shot. That’s why you’re in this safehouse with four heavily armed men.

Time isn’t the endless resource you imaged yesterday morning. It isn’t a solid path with clear, expected landmarks with which to gauge your progress. It’s ice, and the patch under your feet spiderwebs with ominous cracks.

You realize Laswell is speaking again.

“- handle the situation Stateside. Your current location is one of my private safehouses. Not on any list. Totally secure. I think it’s best to stay there and treat it as your base of operations for now, Captain.”

The captain, leaning over your shoulder to get in frame, nods. He’s too close without touching you, but no one’s indicated your part in this is finished. So you stay put.

“Rog,” he says.

“The attack is our chief priority, but closing the active cell in England and following their trail back to Makarov is a close second. I already have taps being set on a few of the names on that list.” Laswell says your name, and she clearly tries to soften her war face, but she’s all business right now. “I’m leaving you in the custody of the 141, under Captain Price.”

He gently claps you on the shoulder, like he’s assuming command. “Understood. Keep us in the loop, Kate.”

“Roger that. Keep your heads down. Stay safe. Over and out.”

The feed cuts out, Gaz – Kyle? – closes the laptop, moving the chaos out of the way as the Scotsman appears with a first aid kit. None of the soldiers leave space for an awkward pause. They all have a mission. Somewhere to be. Something to do.

The captain pulls a second chair up beside yours, meeting your gaze with another of his disarmingly charming smiles that crinkles at his eyes. As he and the Scot begin sorting through the kit, he says, “We’re overdue for introductions. Captain John Price.”

He holds out his hand, and you tentatively accept it in a piss poor handshake, but his smile doesn’t break, and he gestures at the Scotsman. “That’s Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, or Soap.”

The sergeant waves with a handful of cotton pads and disinfectant. He points into the corner, where Skull Face lurks. “Grumpy bastard in the corner’s Ghost. He’s a lieutenant. If you were curious.”

No one offers his real name, and you swallow down every question with a vengeance. The names make them seem real, concrete, and you seize the lifeline they’ve thrown.

You make eye contact with the last man, trying to prove you aren’t a sack of potatoes in human skin and have an actual, working brain between your ears. “And you’re Gaz?”

He smiles, reaching over the table to shake your hand in a way that makes you double down on your bet that he’s the youngest. Certainly the least jaded, even if he’s every bit the soldier the others are. “Sergeant Kyle Garrick, yeah.”

Ghost pushes off from the wall and heads back towards the front door. “I’ll take first watch.”

Whether he’ll be watching the road from a sniper’s perch or chilling by a window, you can only guess, but his captain gives him another nod, and off he goes. Sociable as an alley cat.

“Let’s see about that hand, then.” Calloused fingers rasp along the underside of your wrist as the captain lifts your hand into the light. He arranges it carefully on the table, keeping his touch gentle so you don’t feel the raw bands of irritated skin where the zip ties bruised you.

It isn’t like you’re resisting. The bloody nail beds don’t look right, and you’re struggling to believe they belong to you at all. There’s an experiment where people develop an artificial connection to and fear for an artificial hand. You feel like you’re in an opposite test. Your eyes say the hand on the table belongs to you, but it doesn’t feel that way. If the captain sawed it off instead of gingerly spraying antiseptic ointment over the exposed nerves, you might just shrug it off.

The bandages hurt, though.

The pain tugs at your gut, and you rejoin your whole body with a shudder. That hurts, too. You take a deep breath, and your stomach aches. Your free hand squeezes into a fist, and the scabs on your knuckles crack open. When tears flood your eyes, you can only imagine what new agonies they’d summon if you let them fall, so you blink furiously and pretend your eyelashes aren’t so wet they stick together.

As his captain finishes treating your hand, the Scot – MacTavish, Johnny, Soap, whatever the fuck you’re supposed to call him – takes a seat on the table, pinches your chin, and puts one of those little cleansing pads he’d been fussing with to work. It stings like a bitch, and you flinch despite your best efforts.

Still holding your chin, he angles your face up and blows over a series of cleaned scrapes on your cheek. The tiny breeze might as well be a hurricane. It knocks the soul from your body, and you go entirely still, befuddled.

“The fuck, Soap?” Gaz asks.

The Scot huffs, getting back to work with a fresh gauze pad, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “You’re supposed to blow on cuts,” he grumbles, like he’s trying to sound gruff to make up for the accidental sentiment. “So they don’t sting.”

It makes you want to smile. You can’t remember how right now, but maybe you’ll think back to this moment and smile about it later.

“Thanks,” you say instead.

Soap has not forgotten how to smile. “You’re welcome, bonnie. Let me put a butterfly plaster on this, and you’ll be fit as a fiddle again.”

A nice thought, and maybe true for a soldier like him, but every screaming inch of your body informs you this is a lie.

The captain taps your knee, pulling your attention back to the fading crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He lifts a finger and leads your gaze from side to side, leaning in close to see if your pupils are the same size. “Doesn’t look like you have a concussion. Are you hurt anywhere else? Any risk of internal bleeding? Cracked ribs?”

Gaz, seeing your confusion (because how the fuck would you KNOW if you were bleeding internally?) offers some helpful context. “Did they kick you in the stomach? Any sharp pains in your chest when you breathe?”

Did they kick you? You can’t really remember. Probably. It’s all a furious blur of motion and panic.

“I’m not sure.”

It’s the truth, but it’s a bad one. The captain nods as a wintery flash passes over Gaz’s face. “That’s all right. Let us know if you notice any unusual swelling or new pains, yeah?”

“Okay.”

One more big smile – a bit forced, definitely for show – lifts his whiskers, and he climbs out of his chair, pulling it out of your way.

Gaz steps up to lead you out of the kitchen. You feel like a football – always under someone’s control, being run by one teammate to the next. But what else is there to do to, really? You follow him up a narrow flight of stairs to a pokey hall on the second level. There are three doors, and the first you pass has three twin beds crammed inside. The second is smaller but only holds two beds. And the last door leads to a bathroom. Gaz, clearly used to safehouse etiquette, fishes a washcloth, towel, and little bar of soap out of the deep, dark depths of a cupboard too high for you to reach.

He sets them on the counter in a tidy pile and says, “You really shouldn’t get your bandages wet for forty-eight hours, but I bet you feel like hell. Washing up a little with just the sink might help.”

His big brown eyes fix on you, too soft and looking for some kind of confirmation you’re okay without getting in your face.

Are you broken?

Fuck. They’re all trying to make this normal. What happened isn’t their fault, and they’ve surely seen worse. They probably don’t have to babysit damaged goods after the fact very often, though. The least you can do is try to make this normal for them, too.

“Like a bus ran over me, backed up, and ran over me again.” You think for a minute and add: “Might’ve been some Nazgul, or cave trolls, or some other shit, too.”

The soldier snorts. A grin catches him by surprise and turns his whole face bright. The effort was definitely worth it.

“Tolkien? I like it.” As he moves out of the bathroom, he points at the smaller bedroom. “Take whatever bed in there you want. Since one of us will be on watch, we probably won’t need the other one. Give you a bit of privacy. Try to get some rest, yeah?”

You can’t imagine how you’ll fall asleep, but you act like his suggestion is as reasonable as it sounds.

“Of course.”

He leaves you alone.

You soak the washcloth in tepid water and peel off your shirt. There’s a countdown of little tasks in your head, ways to delay the inevitable. How long can you linger over the soap and cheap terrycloth? What if you just lock the door and keep wake sitting on the cold floor?

Then you notice your reflection.

You haven’t thought about what you look like. It’s less your face staring back and more a collection of hurts, and you struggle to find yourself through the bruises and bandages.

Everything aches, throbs, or stings. You’re so scared you want to smash your head into the counter just in case it’s like in the movies, and time rewinds, letting you wake up in bed at the hostel with a clear head and free day to play tourist. You know how to do that. Always going, doing, seeing. Always a task, a plan, an idea.

Now your hands are empty – apart from that one fucking piece of glitter you can’t get off between your thumb and forefinger. It winks in the light, and you scrub at it in a frenzy. You clean everything in a rush, too rough with your bruises, but you’re on the verge of a breakdown, and you don’t want to fall apart in anything resembling a public space.

It’s all been too much for too long.

You open the door carefully, peek up and down the hall, wary of minding eyes. Then you nearly trip over your own feet getting into the smaller bedroom.

Door shut.

Shoes off.

Everything else stays on, every layer between you and the world outside a blessing as you bury yourself alive under a stiff, scratchy blanket that probably came from a secondhand shop two decades ago. Your breath catches when you breathe in, like you’re choking on the stuff you need to live. The air bubbles out in gasps. Painful. On the verge of sobs. But that would be too loud. You must be quiet and still or something awful will find you again.

It's a good thing tears are silent. You soak the flat pillow with them, hiding in the dark under the covers.

Impossibly, you do sleep. It takes a while, but your body screams for rest, and it pulls you deep as you cry yourself out into nightmares of voices arguing just behind your head, and eyes that send beams of light around shadowed walls.

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #141 x reader #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #fanfiction

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dotster001 · 1 year

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A Sweet Taurus Throuple

Summary: Silver x Epel x Reader. What a polyamorous relationship looks like for NRC's hottest Aries'.

Sagittarius Capricorn Aquarius Pisces Aries Gemini Cancer-coming soon

How it happens

All three of you are really playing the long game here. You and Epel can't help but fall for Silver with his beauty, grace, and strength. You and Silver can't help but fall for Epel because of his independence, strength, and how firm he is in staying true to himself. Silver and Epel can't help but fall for you because of your strength (surprise surprise), your brilliance as a "beast tamer", and just your kindness and empathy towards the both of them.

So what do you three do with this little love triangle?

Nothing.

For FIVE YEARS!!!!!

Enter Lilia and Rook.

Who could have ever predicted that you would be staying in the Valley of Thorns, and Silver would be assigned as your escort, while at the same time, Epel is shadowing Rook, as his photography apprentice, also in the Valley of Thorns?

What are the odds?

And when the three of you need a little push after rekindling your feelings for one another, in come Rook and Lilia with romantic mood music, and a heart wrenching song about unrequited requited love that would melt the hardest of hearts.

None of you stood a chance.

What these Tuarus' get up to

Silver is so scared of dating for so long because of his sleeping condition. But when he gets with you two, you and Epel make it clear that it's not a problem, and there's no way you'll let him sleep alone. One of you tries to stay with him at all times, so that you can cuddle him, and be there as a source of comfort when he wakes up. But when the three of you are together, the cuddle game is so insane. Tbh, the three of you are such snuggle bugs. And, yes, Rook and Lilia have far too many photos of the three of you sleeping and cuddled up under a blanket.

The biggest fight the three of you ever have (if it could even be called a fight, and not a passive aggressive standoff) is where you all live. Silver always imagined settling down in the Valley of Thorns, and serving under Malleus, until the day he died. Epel always imagined he would settle down in Harvestown, and take over the family orchard (also he had an image of himself chopping lumber while the two of you applauded him, or whatever). And you've always imagined ending up in your own world with your lovers, and since that is pretty much out, you'd started to formulate your own new plans. None of you is ready to change these life plans, so you'll somehow have to find a happy medium.

The three of you are living the most epic of cottage core vibes. Including, but not limited to, picnics. Silver and his animal friends know the best, coziest, most isolated spots. And Epel has perfected a myriad of apple treats and juices. The three of you, and your animal friends, all sit and chat about everything and nothing, and eat well. Then you all nap in the warm spring sun, wake up to each other's sleepy kisses, and return home to cuddle some more. (Be warned: sometimes you will return to find your home invaded by nosy dads. *Cough* Rook. *Cough* Lilia.)

You don't need words to express your love. You express your love in goodbye kisses. You express your love in gifts and baked goods. You express your love in snuggles, and hugs, and hand holding. And if that didn't get it across, the three of you start color coordinating without even thinking about it.

Your loyalty to one another is the only thing that proves to people outside of your relationship that any of you can get "overly emotional". If anyone says anything bad about either of your partners, or if someone tries to hit on one of you, there is a sudden righteous anger that takes over.

In summary, it's an unexpected trio, that works, and is probably the sweetest one we've visited so far.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver x reader #twst silver #epel x reader #epel felmier #twst epel #epel x silver x reader #silver x epel x reader #epel x reader x silver #taurus #taurus reader

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baa-bah · 14 days

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the comfort cottage; full system

@r4dqu33r-d0gb0y

please message me before using/forming this system!! (i have more refrences and info for u plus i can answer any questions)

the comfort cottage is an semi-programmed adaptive/willogenic hivemind with 14 active members.

some are more in depth than others, sorry about that.

name + nicknames: bug, buggy, worm

age + birthday: 13, june 7th

pronouns: they/it/xe

gender: xenogender hoarder, demiboy

species: human otherkin

beliefs: radqueer

language: english

(dis)abilities: wheelchair and AAC user

identities: transDDNOS, perma2020, transsteampunkaesthetic, permaCOCSA, transgroomed, transsinner, chosenpunk, dog zoo

personality: bug is a bright kid, they know a lot about their special interest (transIDs) and loves to infodump about them, especially xir own hoard of IDs. it wears a lot of colors and loves the early 2020core alt/indie aesthetic. bug loves candy AND kandi, cats, bugs, moths and butterflies.

appearance: pink hair, purple eyes, pale skin with freckles, 2020 alt/indie clothing style, bug wears many accessories, bug has an AAC and a wheelchair.

role + modifiers: host/core

emoji signoffs:🐛🪲🐜

attraction + relationship type: pansexual polyamorous hyperqueerplatonic

name + nicknames: kitty, kat, kitkat

age + birthday: 16, july 17th

pronouns + gender: kit/kitty/kitten, catgender hoarder

species: kitten human hybrid / neko

beliefs: peacequeer

language: english and russian

(dis)abilities: AAC user

identities: transkitten, transcat, transfeline, transpawpads, transcatpaws, transcatears, cisneko

personality: kitty is a russian blue kitten that appears as a humanoid catlike creature, kit is extremely sociable and loves to interact with others, kitty is the emotional protector and processor but kitty does not display negative emotions outwardly. kit loves to play and explore.

appearance: blue hair, blue eyes, pale skin, basic clothing style, no accessories, no extras

role + modifiers: emotional protector, emotional processor

emoji signoffs:🐱🩵

attraction + relationship type: polyamorous, aroace, sex repulsed, romance favourable

name + nicknames: axel, axxie, rose

age + birthday: 15, april 7th

pronouns + gender: he/they/zir, demiagender demiboy

species: human

beliefs: radqueer / paraphile / transid

language: english

identities: punk, medpunk, chosenpunk, choicequeer, queerpunk

appearance: purple hair, black eyes, pale tan skin, punk clothing style

personality: axel is a reserved guy, he prefers to stay in the shadows than to be in the spotlight, he hates cops and authority figures, he likes frogs, chains, the colors black, gold and purple. he doesnt talk much and prefers to listen.

role + modifiers: timekeeper, medical caretaker

emoji signoff: ⛓️💜

attraction + relationship type: demiromantic, demisexual, gay man

name + nicknames: bun, bunbun, bunnybuns, honeybun

age + birthday: bunage (intra 7), no birthday

pronouns + gender: bun/bunny, fembunnygender

species: humanoid rabbit creature

beliefs: radqueer

language: english and korean

(dis)abilities: high jumping skill

identities: cistransbunny, transpink, cisblind, xenomelanin, muteflux, transAACuser

appearance: pink hair, no eyes, pink skin, feminine clothing style, no accessories, no extras

personality: bunnybuns is the program holder for this system, bun has many programs and is very severely traumatized, bun is very reserved and sensitive, bun doesnt talk much.

role + modifiers: program holder, princess program, doll program, epilson program, go insane program, isolation program, jewel programming, abbreatiction program, color programming, baby talk program, beta program, chi program

emoji signoff: 🐇💕🌸

attraction + relationship type: greyaroace

name + nicknames: rocco

age + birthday: 11, july 9th

pronouns + gender: he/rac/coon, gender hoarder, raccoongender, browngender, blackgender, greygender, softgender, fluffygender, mascgender, fem presenting

species: raccoon humanoid

beliefs: spritequeer (reclaimed/recoined kandiqueer) transid paraphile

language: english and dutch

(dis)abilities: wheelchair user

identities: raccoon, zoo, transspecies full raccoon, transnational canadian, transsexual male, cisviltiligo, transgrunge, transferalsona, transeyecolor brown, transnecro

appearance: brown hair, brown eyes (contacts), brown and tan skin, grunge clothing style

personality: rocco is a small critter who chitters a lot, they usually front when alone and or outside. he likes to cuddle and play in nature, exploring and making maps. going through trash to find new things to bring home to his den.

role + modifiers: self soother, gender hoarder

emoji signoff:🦝🖤

attraction + relationship type: polyqueerplatonic monosexual ambiromantic, pansexual panromantic panqueerplatonic

name + nicknames: nikki, nik, nikolaus, nikola

age + birthday: trans10 cis19, august 9th

pronouns + gender: any prns, agender

species: human

beliefs: radqueer fultist transid paraphile

language: english and greek

(dis)abilities: wheelchair user

identities: transchristian, cishijabi, transage (19->10), transhobby (sewist), transavian, transwings, transfeathers, transclaws, transAAM

personality: nikki is a christian fultist who is constantly talking in greek, they

appearance: hijabi, blue eyes, tan skin, modest clothing style, carries a bible, notebook and rosary, wears a blanket

role + modifiers: religious trauma holder

emoji signoff: 📿☦️🛐

attraction + relationship type: panamorous transaroace

name + nicknames: anthony, ant eater

age + birthday: 11, october 29th

pronouns + gender: he/fawn/aer/soft/ant

species: deerlike human

beliefs: radqueer transid paraphile

language: english

identities: transjackalope, cisdeer, transantlers, transbunny/transrabbit/transhare

personality: anthony is constantly fearful, he submits to any threat and if not, runs away as fast as fawn can.

appearance: brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin, monotone acadamia clothing style, no accessories, horns/antlers

role + modifiers: fawn response

emoji signoff: 🦌 🌺 🍃

attraction + relationship type: pansexual polyamorous

name + nicknames: nat, nathan, natasha

age + birthday: 14, july 7th

pronouns + gender: ask prns, genderfluid

species: human cat hybrid

beliefs: radqueer transid paraphile fultist

language: english

identities: transniquab, transmuslim, tranarab

personality: nik is loud when they are presenting masculine and quiet when presenting feminine, while fem she wears a niqab and while masc she doesnt. her personality is split and very tied to her religious beliefs,

appearance: black hair, brown eyes, grey and white ski, lazy clothing style, part time niqabi

role + modifiers: archivist, social protector

emoji signoff: 🪦🧁🐾

attraction + relationship type: aroace transpansexual polyamorous

name + nicknames: amorana, ama, ana, mora

age + birthday: 12, april 1st

pronouns + gender: sea/her/aqua agender demigender merfolkgender

species: water creature / merfolk

beliefs: ghostqueer transid paraphile

language: english and merfolk

(dis)abilities: wheelchair user (has a merfolklike tail instead of legs)

identities: transbioluminescent, transseacreature, transfish, transstingray, transpolyspecies, transmerfolk, YAP, zoo (attracted to humans)

personality: amorana is a young fishlike creature who roams the seas, sea likes to collect things and organize them. she likes reading and playing in the water, she takes showers for comfort reasons and has trouble maintaining eye contact for a long time.

appearance: blonde hair, blue eyes, blue skin, grunge clothing style

role + modifiers: hygenist, swimmer

emoji signoff: 🧜‍♂️🐠🌸

attraction + relationship type: polyam pansexual YAP

name + nicknames: devlin, wolf boy

age + birthday: 14, august 3rd

pronouns + gender: he/it/woof/paw, wolfboy

species: wolf humanoid

beliefs: pawqueer

language: english, can howl, woofstimmic

(dis)abilities: can shapeshift

identities: transwolf, transbrown, transfluffy, transkiller, transferal

personality: devlin is a demihuman wolf boy who loves to play and hunt, he is known in the system as being the main epilson program. he is trained to attack when necessary and even sometimes when its not needed.

appearance: brown hair, dark and tan skin, black eyes, dark grunge clothing style, wears a collar

role + modifiers: epilson program, physical protector

emoji signoff:🐺⛓️🪦

attraction + relationship type: pansexual polyamorous panromantic

name + nicknames: spike, spikez, radz, punkz

age + birthday: 15, january 15th

pronouns + gender: he/they/xe/zir, demigender neoboy

species: human wolfkin

beliefs: radpunk

language: english

(dis)abilities: prosthetic left arm

identities: transabled (transitioned), ampusoma (transitioned), medpunk, chosenpunk, ciselfears

personality: spike is a striking young lad who loves all things punk and anarchy, they believe this is the revolution and the start of a better world, xe hates cops and loves the homeless. spike is loud and proud about who he is and what ze wants.

appearance: black hair, brown eyes, pale skin, punk clothing style, so many accessories

role + modifiers: aestetive

emoji signoff: ⛓️🪦☕️

attraction + relationship type: ambiamorous vincian

name + nicknames: zomby, zombz

age + birthday: ageless/deadage, no birthday

pronouns + gender: it/zomb/creature, deadgender, deathgender, decaygender, fungigender

species: fungi infected zombie crowkin

beliefs: post radqueer, pro-c necrophile

language: broken english

(dis)abilities: limp, speech impediment, amputated right foot, prosthetic foot, body is sprouting fungi fruit.

identities: transslow, transretarted, transdead, necrophile, fangs

personality: zomby is very laid back, it likes to collect small shiny things (like a crow does). it keeps its collection in a collection room in its bunker. it lives in a bunker in headspace and rarely comes out of it. zomby likes smoking, drugs, the apocalypse and other zombie or zombielike creatures.

appearance: black hair, grey eyes, greyish green skin, ripped clothing, open wounds, stitches, missing a foot

role + modifiers: traveler, explorer, hunter, eater

emoji signoff: 🧟🪦☠️

attraction + relationship type: aroace objectum

name + nicknames: keira, kai, kiyo

age + birthday: 17, november 18th

pronouns + gender: she/they/he/xe/it, genderfluid xenoflux

species: human

beliefs: radqueer

language: nigerian and english

(dis)abilities: paranoid personality disorder

identities: POC, disabled, transmelanin (lighter patches), transshapeshifter

personality: kiyo goes by keira when presenting feminine and kai when presenting masculine as well as kiyo when presenting androgynous or gender neutral, kiyo uses she when fem, he when masc, they when andro/neu and always uses xe/it no matter the presentation. kiyo is outgoing and very sociable, xe doesnt like being around others for extended periods of time as its social battery runs low quite quickly.

appearance: pink hair, brown eyes, dark skin, minimalist clothing style, choker as an accessory, no extras

role + modifiers: physical protector, fighter, socializer

emoji signoff: 🩷⭐️

attraction + relationship type: ambiamorous pansexual hyperplatonic

name + nicknames: honey, honeybloom, bloom, venus, lilac

age + birthday: 24, may 5th

pronouns + gender: she/they demigirl neowoman xenogirl

species: human fairykin

beliefs: radqueer

language: english and elven

identities: transfae, cottagecore, plantgorebodic, transplant, transpeaceful

personality: honey is a chipper young lady who loves to garden and collect and dry flowers, she also uses her home grown food as ingredients for her stews, soups, salads, and other meals. she loves baking bread and making clothing, her ideal home would be a mossy cottage deep in the woods.

appearance: blonde hair, green eyes, pale skin, cottagecore clothing style, wears a veil

role + modifiers: internal self helper, janitor, clenser

emoji signoff:🍯💐💛

attraction + relationship type: polyamorous lesbian

#baabah #pro transid #transid safe #build a headmate #alter packs #build an alter #build a system #transprogrammed #system packs #pro rq 🌈🍓#rq please interact #rq community #rqc🌈🍓#rq 🌈🍓#rq safe #rq

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powerpolyculeshowdown · 1 year

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Canon Polycule Showdown

(vote for your favorite! check the description if you don't know them)

[ID: 1. Art of Kieran, Cristina and Mark from The Dark Artifices. 2. Art of Tessa, Will, Jem from The Infernal Devices. /end ID]

Meet the contestants!

Kieran/Cristina/Mark

Status: Canon

Description: Starts off with Cristina falling for Mark while he's already dating Kieran, turning into a love triangle. Kieran and Mark fell in love while part of the Wild Hunt but eventually broke it off when Kieran accidentally betrayed Mark. Cristina becomes friends with Kieran, and the two of them fall in love, soon all three of them get together in a polyamorous relationship. Kieran became king and couldn’t have any mortal consorts while living in Faerie so they’re bending the rules and live together in a little cottage that is neither on mortal nor fey land.

Tessa/Will/Jem

Status: Canon (Implied)

Description: Tessa loves both boys, and they both love her with no competition. In fact, it’s more like they believe the other one’s more deserving of a relationship. Also Jem and Will are parabatai which is like a platonic soul marriage.

*I have been informed Tess/Will/Jem are not canonically a polycule, however it is heavily implied and supported by the author, so I decided to keep the Canon status and just add Implied in parenthesis instead of fully changing it on round 3. Their image has been changed from the book covers to official art.

#the dark artifices #the infernal devices #polyamory #polycule #polyship #canonpolyculeshowdown #pollycule #canonround3 #tournament poll

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bultaoreunheyyy · 6 months

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❄️🌪?

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

here's a bit from a fantasy au I found in my docs (@katiesdailystruggle posting about aus reminded me about this lol) where jk is a witch healer and the others are traveling to find help for human taehyung, who's under a curse...I started this like 6 months ago and I want to finish it soon

🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags.

I'll do this same wip:

alternate universe - fantasy, hurt/comfort, polyamorous bts, witch jeon jungkook, human kim taehyung, fairy park jimin, elf jung hoseok, fairy min yoongi, human kim seokjin, human kim namjoon, cursed kim taehyung

Even under the cover of darkness, out of sight of the villagers, Hoseok doesn’t dare remove his hat to reveal his pointed ears, just the same as Jimin and Yoongi keep their heavy coats on over their wings to keep them out of view.

Seokjin sits against a tree trunk, the driest spot he can find, holding Taehyung in his lap. He fusses with the coat around the younger man; Taehyung barely stirs, his eyelashes fluttering slightly against the fever-flush on his cheeks for a moment until Seokjin is happy with the way he’s bundled up. Then, Seokjin keeps as still as possible, his hand cupping the back of Taehyung’s head to keep it in place against his chest, eyes trained on the cottage in the distance where the supposed healer lives.

The others spread out in pairs to gather firewood. It’s misty and cool, the air thick with a fog that makes them all shiver relentlessly. Surely, they’ll all catch cold out here in the damp, chilly air unless they can quickly find more dry fuel for their fire. Even Jimin and Yoongi are huddled together, the pair of them sneezing in turns as they collect branches and twigs despite their upbringing in a cold climate– their sensitive fairy noses are still no match for this kind of weather.

Namjoon’s own nose is a dripping mess, and he tucks his scarf tighter around his neck, burying the lower half of his face into the woolen fabric with a wet sniffle.

“Joon,” Hoseok says when he hears the sound, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Take my hat.”

“Give it to Yoongi or Jimin. I’m worried they’ll get sick out here.”

Hoseok pauses, listening as Jimin sneezes a tiny sneeze just at that moment somewhere nearby. He turns back to Namjoon.

“I’m more worried about you, Tae and Jinnie.” He picks up a piece of wood, splintered at both ends, and tucks it under his arm. “Are we really going to wait until morning to knock on that door?”

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darksideoftheshipps · 5 months

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/info: tento článek byl začat psán 27.12.2023 a dokončen byl 14.2.2024 (ano, byla, jsem a budu líná kůže) hodně prokrastinuju/

Zdravím mí drazí přátelé. Rok s rokem se nám sešel a na ČT 1 opět dávali Daddyho Krakonoše. (26.12.2023)

Samozřejmě se dívala, celá naše rodina.

Sranda však je, že já a moje paní sestra @non-human-feelings

shipujeme strašně moc lodí a tak se tomu nevyhlo ani Krakonošovo tajemství. To znamená, že kdykoliv ti tři Adam, Krakonoš a Jiráček, byli spolu ve scéně (ať už dohromady, nebo odděleně) vždy jsme se na sebe potutelně podívaly, abychom si daly vědět, že myslíme na to samé.

A teď slyšte, slyšte.

Teď vám sem vložím několik svých a sestřiných headcanons které nám leží v hlavě:

Jiráček spolu s Adamem a Krakonošem měli být cottage, polyamorous husbands. S tím že by žili s Krakonošem napůl v jeho hájence a napůl v chatce po Lidušce (vysvětlím v dalším bodu). Tam by čas trávil hlavně Pravoslav, když by potřeboval být sám a mít klid ke psaní dalších, svých knih. Nebo si jednuše odpočinout od těch dvou. O to víc, pokud by Adam s Janem chtěli provozovat nějaké to fyzické intimno. U toho Pravoslav úplně být nepotřebuje.

Liduška by si svou rodinu nastěhovala k sobě do zámku a časem by si našla manželku. S tou by adoptovaly nějaké to mimčo ze sirotčince a žili by jako jedna velká, šťastná rodina.

Adam, Jan a Pravoslav by byli strejdové.

Liduščinu manželku si představuju jako Marušku ze Dvanácti měsíčků

Krakonoš bere Lidušku, jako svou dceru a je velice overprotective. Takže ještě předtím než Liduška oznámí, kdo ukradl její srdce, Krakonoš o Liduščině nápadnici už ví všechno.

Maruška je myslivec 🤌🏻a to Krakonošovi imponuje. Nemá proto námitek (ne že by na nich záleželo) když Liduška všechny tři pozve na svatbu.

Jan po dlouhá léta neměl nikoho s kým by mohl být ve fyzickém kontaktu. A tak je hodně touch starved. A ačkoliv to nikdy nedává najevo, je strašně vděčný Adamovi za sebemenší dotek či pohlazení.

Co se týče Jiráčka. Spousta z vás by si řekla, že se musí cítit jako páté kolo u vozu, ale není tomu tak. Od Jana a od Adama se mu dostává dost pozornosti a lásky, jen v jiné podobě než si prokazují oni dva.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Tohle je už spíše nastínění na povídku než pouhopouhý headcanon

Postupem času začne Krakonošovi docházet, že jeho dvě spřízněné duše nebudou žít navždy. A tak se rozhodne najít posledního lesního ducha, který by jim mohl pomoci s jejich situací. Ale kde se skrývá dřímající duch, to ani sám Krakonoš neví. Myslel si, že všichni zmizeli a on je posledním zde na zemi. Ale čím více přemýšlel nad jejich bezútěšnou situací, začnou se mu zjevovat vize a sny, které ho přesvědčí o opaku. Ještě jeden tu je a pomůže jim. Naděje umírá poslední.

(chci jen říct, že bych to nedržela úplně jako pohádkový příběh)

Nevím jaká by byla přesně zápletka, nad tím jsem nepřemýšlela tolik, jelikož to nenapíšu. Dlouhá léta jsem nic dlouhého nenapsala. Tady naděje už umřela :')

Vím jen že...

Duch jim sdělí, že on je tu pouze jako náhradník, kdyby se něco stalo s Janem. Prakticky se mu nic stát nemůže, ale nikdo nikdy neví.

Jan původně ani nevěděl o co konkrétně žádá. Ano, žádá o pomoc, ale jakou?

Duch jim sdělí jediné řešení na jejich situací a to, že je ochoten dát svojí sílu. Ale jenom jednomu z nich a učinit ho tak duchem lesa spolu s Janem.

Pravoslav se jím ale stát nechce, a chce dožít svůj lidský život se vším všudy. Chce ho dožít se svými nejbližšími.

Tedy problém s tím kdo dostane duchovo sílu není, ale tady nastává další háček.

Do roka a do dne musí Adam zemřít Janovo rukou. Tím získá sílu pozůstalého ducha. Avšak není jisté jestli Adam přijme duchovo energii. Přijme ji jen pouze v případě, že je dobrým člověkem.

Krakonoš má spoustu výtek, že to nedává smysl. Duch mu ale v klidu sdělí, že pokud nadále nemá zájem o tuto možnost, mohou odejít a on upadne zpátky do hlubokého spánku.

Krakonoš chce odejít. Rozhodnut, že za to riziko, to vůbec nestojí. Že by nakonec přišel o oba dva. A o jednoho dříve, než by musel.

Adam ho ale zastaví, s tím že to chce podstoupit. Že budou mít celý rok.

Janovi ani Pravoslavovi, se to vůbec nelíbí. Ale respektují Adamovo rozhodnutí.

Adam má strach. Pochybuje že by byl dobrým člověkem, ale pokud je tu nějaká možnost strávení věčnosti s Janem, chce to riziko podstoupit.

Dohodnou se tedy s duchem lesa. Ten poté zmizí. Že za rok se opět sejdou na stejném místě.

Určitě k tomu ještě něco vymyslím. Ale strašně ráda bych slyšela i vaše nápady. ❤️

Je pravda, že vidím přímo před očima scénu, kde Jan musí usmrtit Adama.

Let me tell you more:

Nejdříve se o to Jan pokusí nožem. To je hlavně Adamův nápad, jelikož chce umřít v náruči svého drahého. Ale Jan nebude schopný tento čin vykonat. Emočně to nezvládne. A tak ho Adam za ruku dovede ke srázu. Mladší muž si stoupne zády k propasti velice blízko k okraji. Jana chytne za předloktí a tím druhého muže přinutí udělat to samé i jemu. "Takhle to bude lepší. Stačí jen, když do mě strčíš." Adam se smutně pousměje.

"Lepší? Adame, co když to nevyjde?" Mladší ucítí jak v jeho milenci narůstá panika a tak si ho přitáhne blíže k sobě. Jednou rukou pustí jeho předloktí a přitáhne si jej za zátylek do něžného polibku. Polibek je plný smutku a vroucího přání, aby se ještě mohl opakovat. Jan je vyvedený z míry a toho Adam využije. Začne pomalu couvat do té doby dokud necítí půdu jen do půli chodidel. V tu chvíli promluví. "Ale vyjde, Jane." Pohladí jej po strnulé tváři a usměje se. "A teď mě strč."

Okay, možná ještě něco připíšu. Chci tu hodně komentářů, mi drazí. :))))))))

(Asi vás budu vydírat. Ano.)

Je to celkem shit. Ale po dlouhé době jsem něco sesmolila a i když to není plnohodnotná povídka, tak mám ze sebe radost. :))))

#torri writes #čumblr #krakonošovo tajemství #adam #Jan z Hůrky #Jiráček #pravoslav Jiráček #píšu česky #lodění #ff #headcanons #hezky česky #ČT 1 #they are husbands

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jjksblackgf · 2 years

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three of cups (m) | namgi

pairing — witch!namjoon x witch!reader x witch!yoongi summary — in the Three of Cups, three young people are dancing with each other in a circle, raising their cups in a toast of joy and celebration. They are bound by their emotional connection and friendship. Unlike their tarot counterparts, these three young people are also bound by their sexual chemistry. genre — supernatural, smutt rate — 21+ word count — 2.9k warnings — explicit sexual content, supernatural themes, mentions of death, mention of blood drinking, polyamorous romance, mention of alcohol intake, threesome, unprotected sex, anal sex, double penetration author's note — the biggest of thanks to @yoon2k for the amazing, genius, groundbreaking, sensational banner!! she saw me struggling and lent a helping hand, as the kind person she is <3 everyone say thank you, fi <3

❖ BBCS Sip, Vibe, & Create Event: Double Double, Toil in Trouble hosted by @btsblackcreatorsociety ⤞ Category: witches ⤞ Theme(s): nature, spells ⤞ Kinks: double penetration, threesome

🕸 NO-FACETOBER hosted by @bangtanbathhouse ⤖ 「 Day 1 」 : eerie ⤖ 「 Day 9 」 : cauldron ⤖ 「 Day 18 」 : candles ⤖ 「 Day 25 」 : mystic

My arms were almost elbow deep in the soil as I worked to make room for some new vegetable plants. The leaves of the forest were starting to change colors, announcing that the weather was about to get chilly, so why not plant some brussel sprouts?

I placed some Citrine crystals and covered them with dirt before sowing the seeds. I heard some steps coming in my direction, but that didn’t deter me from my work. The soft wind shifted towards me, and I smelled Namjoon’s perfume close by. I could feel his gaze on my back now.

“Are you sure you want to put the citrines under the seeds?” he asked, sounding not entirely confident in my planting skills. “I usually just plant only half of them, so the other half stays above ground…”

“Yes, I am sure,” I replied, a little exasperated, a little amused. Of course I should expect some observations and notes from Namjoon. He always liked his work done a certain way. “Are you done harvesting for dinner tonight?”

“Almost…” he said, abashed. I didn’t hear another word from him, so he must’ve scattered to the other side of the garden.

A regular day in our coven of three consisted of tending our garden, doting on our cute cats, and sharing laughter and joy with each other. Our regular nights also had a routine. We’d eat a spell blessed meal together, right before we devoured each other.

Yoongi spent most of his days at his crafting table, each and every time coming with more creative and functional pieces to fill our small cottage. Namjoon and I shared a love for nature, so our hands were always full of ingredients, and we made sure our house always smelled like fresh flowers.

We also joined in prayer for devotion to our Gods. Brewing potions and casting various spells around the forest surrounding our home. Our cauldron would always be the center of attention, placed underneath the thicker branches of the spruce trees that decorated our front yard.

And today was no different from our general routine. That was until we reached nighttime.

The wind whistled through the tree branches above, and Namjoon shivered. The darkness of the night was troublesome. The new moon usually gave more of a stage to the bright stars, but those were also nowhere to be found. All I could hear were steps disturbing the fallen foliage.

None of us knew what to make of the sound of steps coming your way. Or the disturbing darkness that was trying to engulf our cottage.

Did we do something wrong? I thought to myself. Maybe we accidentally conjured something we shouldn't in our earlier ceremony…

I wanted some reassurance from Yoongi, but he was busy casting a spell to protect our house from whatever came to visit us tonight. That left only Namjoon and me, neither with enough knowledge to fight this by ourselves.

Bottled in glass jars, I placed the banishing spells along the tree branches and trunks, and lit candles along the path. Namjoon’s knowledge of the forest gave him an instinctual sense of where to place everything, and I was relieved to just follow along.

The unknown steps got closer and closer, riling up the wind within its proximity. But neither of us ceased our work. Some of the candles gave up under the powerful gush, and I wondered if there was time to go back and light them up again. I heard a different set of steps coming in our direction, and my heart almost stopped, fearing getting cornered by the shadow. But I relaxed when Yoongi’s voice filled my ears.

“Let’s go to the cauldron,” he said. His voice was a little troubled, and I could see the fear buried deep within his eyes. He helped Namjoon with the spell jars, while I focused on relighting the path back to the cottage.

Yoongi had everything ready for our collective spell. Ingredients were correctly placed, and the words glowed on the page as we read them in our Grimoire. The wind got worse, and we could hear the wind chimes rustling with intensity. We finished reading the inscriptions, and with a loud scream, our visitor fleeted the scene. The sky suddenly cleared and we got to see the stars again.

We stared at each other for a moment. I could see both relief and fear mingled behind their eyes. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, steading myself. I was still a bit shaken. I’d never seen anything like that before. I’ve never felt such dark energy.

My hands went to my face as I stood in front of the cauldron. I could still feel the heat of the cast iron warming my feet. Suddenly, I felt two pairs of arms embracing me. I didn’t realize until then that I was sobbing.

“Shh, it’s over now, honey. It’s okay now…” Yoongi cooed, caressing my arm. Namjoon hugged me the tightest, and I could feel his lips at the top of my head. “Let’s get you something to eat, hm?”

We decided to cook our meal outside, using our spells cauldron for extra protection. Yoongi went inside to gather the ingredients, while Namjoon maintained the cauldron warmed with fresh wood. I didn’t sit idly either, relighting some candles for extra brightness.

I wanted my hands busy, to do something useful and be the asset I always saw myself as, but both of them insisted I take it easy. Frustrated, I sat on the ground, on top of our outside blanket. Namjoon followed not long after, taking me in his long arms. He hugged me tight against his chest and hummed a song I didn’t recognize, and it calmed me down a little.

With our food prepared, and our prayers done, we sat down and communed in silence. Until Yoongi pulled out the bottle of wine.

I hadn’t realized we talked all night. The sky turned from deep black to lighter and lighter shades of gray. It took me by surprise, and I felt a mixture of awe and embarrassment. These men sure knew how to keep me distracted.

The bottle of wine was dry for many hours now, and I could bet none of us felt the buzz anymore. Every now and again I’d remember the night’s events and tremble, but another conversation would always be more interesting. I didn’t know if that was intentional. I didn’t have that much time to think about it, honestly.

But after the initial shock, I was starting to settle into a deeper despair. Imagining and calculating how close we’d come to death… I stared at the beginning of the path to the forest, the candles almost burnt to the very end. I felt the urge to follow that path. In the daylight I could calculate the damage better…

Namjoon laughed loudly, distracting me from my musings.

“Oh, c’mon! That’s literally the worst story you ever told! You never did that! Stop lying to us!” He chortled, half annoyed, half curious. He just couldn’t believe Yoongi had ever come face to face with a Siglas.

The legend of the Siglas was a very common one. Everyone involved with the supernatural world had heard of it. It’d even reached human ears, and now the story lived through many cultures, with many names and interpretations.

Siglas, God of good fortune and ambition, had a wife named Varok. They roamed the Earth spreading their love far amongst other beings. However, there was a demon, Renag, who became jealous of their happiness, and plotted to destroy them.

So Renag took Varok hostage and demanded eternal servitude from Siglas, in exchange for his wife’s freedom. However, Siglas found a way to meet his wife in secrecy. But when Renag found out, he killed Varok and scattered her soul across many nations. Heartbroken, Siglas followed suit, in hopes to put his wife back together.

Now, many pieces of Siglas’ body wandered through the planet, transforming itself into a blood drinking demon, draining whoever he believed housed a piece of his wife’s soul.

No one ever reached a consensus if we should believe the legend or not. The stories of people who encountered a Siglas were almost nonexistent. They either never met one or were drained by one. Or so the legend says…

Yoongi was sitting at my side, quietly laughing. One hand on the ground supported his torso while the other casually hung over my shoulder. “I guess I don’t have a piece of Varok in me,” he joked.

“How do you even know that was a Siglas?” I pressed, not believing it myself.

“There was something about his eyes… the pain in there. Too intense,” he answered.

“Maybe you had an allergic reaction to mushrooms and were actually hallucinating,” Namjoon teased. “It wouldn’t be the last time…” he trailed off, a sly smile curving his lips.

“Probably,” Yoongi shrugged, but his answering smile was cocky. “But I’d rather believe I’m just that powerful.”

“We’re just so lucky to have you…” Namjoon mocked, the teasing smile never left his lips. I chuckled with Yoongi as he got up. “I’m going to feed the cats. It’s almost sunrise. They’ll be hungry.”

We watched him leave for a second, before Yoongi pulled me towards his chest and laid us on the ground with a swift movement. I got comfortable immediately, placing my ear to his heart, and hitched my leg while hugging his waist. He hugged me tighter and kissed the crown of my head.

“Y/N?” Yoongi asked hesitantly after a minute, his voice almost a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He continued, caressing my arm with just his fingertips. His voice sounded distant now, almost as if he regretted saying something in the first place.

“Anything. What is it?” The curiosity was thick on my voice. He took a deep breath, and I expected the question then. But it didn’t come.

I looked up at his face. He was looking at me with intense, worried eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows before speaking again.

“How are you feeling?”

Dramatic, much? I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

“I’m feeling fine, actually,” I lied. He didn’t seem convinced. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Maybe he knew me too much. The furrow of his brow didn’t change, and the corner of his lips turned down slightly.

“Don’t lie…” he warned. His intense gaze didn’t let up for a second. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” I finally answered. “I just never experienced something like that before, so it shook me up a little, that’s all.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked

“Distracting me has been effective enough,” I confessed, wiggling my eyebrows, and he chuckled.

He then held onto my hips as he shifted us. He was on his side, almost on top of me, a leg hitched in between mine. His knee softly caressed my inner thigh, and my body reacted. He held himself up by his elbow, and his free hand went to cup my throat before he kissed me passionately.

The give and warmth of his full lips made me sigh. His tongue lightly pressed against my lower lip, and I purred under his touch. He trailed my jaw with kisses, before settling on my neck.

“Why do you two always start without me?” Namjoon complained at a distance. “You know I get jealous.”

“You say it like you’re not the one that has the most fun,” Yoongi said, shifting us again so this time I’d be straddling him.

Namjoon shrugged. “Still, it’s nice to be included.”

“Come here and let me include you, then,” I joked, grabbing his hand for him to join us.

“I don’t want your pity kisses.” he said, but he was already licking his lips, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“My pity for you can go a long way, actually,” I teased, and his eyes perked up.

He kneeled at my side and my arms rested on his shoulders. His lips were intoxicating. I was instantly begging for more. My lips were fierce when molding to his. I shivered when I got to taste his tongue, and a moan escaped my lips unexpectedly.

Yoongi’s hands made themselves known when he caressed my thighs underneath the skirt of my dress. His hands traveled upwards and palm pressed firmly against my skin, before he gripped my ass cheeks.

Then, I could feel another set of lips on my skin. Yoongi settled on kissing my neck while I entertained myself with Namjoon. But my attention was diverted when his kisses trailed below my collarbone.

His tongue swirled on my skin as he indulged in the cleavage of my dress. He cupped my breasts with his palms, and I got annoyed by the fabric separating my nipples from his fingers and tongue.

I yanked the buttons open. They were both shocked at my sudden desperation, and I couldn’t seem to care. I grabbed Yoongi’s head and pressed against my chest. He got the clue and his languid tongue swirled against my nipple.

He knew my body. He knew which buttons to push. How to caress my body just so. When to kiss, where to lick, when to pull my hair… He sucked on it and I was entirely absorbed. He laid on his back, dragging me along with him while he continued to bless me with his mouth and teeth.

The hem of my dress was at my waist at that point, and I turned my head to see Namjoon lick the tip of his fingers while sliding my panties to the side with his free hand.

He touched the moistened fingers directly at my clit, and I moaned again. He used his thumb to travel between my entrance and my clit, the friction getting smoother and more pleasurable each time.

He slid his middle and ring fingers inside me, and I bit my lower lip. A low purr escaped my throat with the sensation. He pushed his fingers back and forth, each time hitting my spot just right. My walls clenched in anticipation and he picked up speed.

Yoongi stopped to pay attention to what was making me a moaning mess. He looked at me with a big taunting grin and said “Prepare to get utterly distracted.”

Before I could make sense of his words or even pay attention to them, his fingers were in my open mouth, just long enough for a small amount of makeshift lube.

His digits pressed my ass, and I understood at once. He circled the area, and Namjoon hummed in expectation. He inserted his fingers slowly, paying attention to my expressions and asking permission with his own. He kissed me again once his fingers were completely introduced.

“It’s my turn, now,” Namjoon said, his voice a little too excited.

“I’m already in so I got dibs,” Yoongi teased.

“No one has dibs on my ass,” I interrupted, scolding them. But they ignored me.

Namjoon placed himself behind me and Yoongi removed his fingers. I pouted slightly and Yoongi chuckled beneath me. I then felt Namjoon’s tip enter me, and I gasped as I adjusted to his girth. He continued slowly, and we cussed when he was fully inside.

Yoongi took that time to free himself from his pants, and once he saw I was fully comfortable, he began to tease my entrance with his tip. Namjoon’s slow and deep thrusts became shallower and faster with each stroke. I started to rock my hips to his pace, meeting his hips halfway. He cussed again and grabbed my jaw, turning my head so I could look into his eyes.

Wanting to tease him, I licked my upper lip with exaggerated fashion, and I earned a smack in the ass. I increased the power of my hips, and Namjoon closed his eyes, growling. An animalistic sound coming from his chest.

I became arrogant, feeling myself more than I expected. But before I could act on it, Yoongi used the momentum of my hips to thrust himself inside me. I faltered, gasping by the overwhelming sensation of them both. My walls clenched hard in desire, and I had to stop my movements.

Their strokes were different in the beginning. Namjoon’s fast and shallow approach contrasted with Yoongi’s nice & slow method. But they eventually found a rhythm of their own, and I was speechless with the sensation.

I wanted to move my hips again, savor even more the delicious feeling of being filled by my boyfriends. But my legs were weak. I wouldn’t have that much time to savor them anyway. I felt a warm knot in my stomach, the fluttering of my heartbeat, my mouth gaped open as I gasped quietly. And sure enough, I reached my climax.

My torso felt limp onto Yoongi’s and he kissed me before cumming inside me. Namjoon was the last to finish, retrieving his member and massaging himself to completion.

We were all panting, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t bicker again.

“I got ass dibs for next time,” Yoongi said, his voice tired.

“Fine, I’ll be a bottom for a day,” Namjoon grumbled, resigned.

“Stop negotiating like I’m not here,” I said, rolling my eyes.

But this fight was useless. It honestly didn’t matter the position. I’d always be open to getting wrecked like this again.

#namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #nofacetober #bangtanbathhouse

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mixy0trix · 1 year

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I did a thing. I made the kids as I see them. Tried to keep it ambiguous as to whether they're adopted or not.

Mikaela Collins

Oldest of the kids by 6 years. Been with Tank since birth. He has trouble breathing because of accident when he was 3. Takes after Tank with how defensive over his family he is. Is a wolf shifter. Polysexual and polyamorous, has the hots for the shaw kids.(the shaws dont date each other)

Nathaniel(he/him) and Gabriella Shaw

Gabie is the oldest. Nathan is a hard worker but tends to neglect himself a bit too much. He is a shifter and Gabie is a fire elemental. Gabie is straight and Nathan is unlabeled. Both like Mikaela but NOT each other.

Sap(right) and Riv(left) [last name]

Identical twins. Both use it/its. Trouble makers of the group. Youngests of pack kiddos. Telapaths. Sap is with Tilly. Riv is alone.

Tilly Greer

Uses xey/xem. Dreamwalker. Brain go zoom. Plays Minecraft with Angel. With Sap.

Shara Solaire

Spoiled by Will. Contra earth elemental. Nocturnal like their fam. Loves cottage core.

this is the damn fam's other de(a)mon child. I haven't thought of much for them so feel free to give any suggestions.

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tens-girl · 30 days

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My latest Who Omens crossover fic is now complete on AO3! The Edge of the Cliff…

Neatly summed up in the tag ‘Angst and Fluff and Smut’… It’s Zee’s birthday and Aziraphale has organised a special weekend away with Crowley, the Doctor and Jack. The gang stay in a cottage by the sea, there’s a fancy dinner on the first night, and a sexy surprise for the second. But the best laid plans must compromise to accommodate unintended feelings (whether denied or expressed) and an increasingly out-of-control telepathic bond that is driving Crowley and the Doctor crazy, and risks giving up their secret…

The Doctor is also grappling with an escalating awareness of his feelings for Jack, while also finding his relationship with Zee becoming more intense. Poor guy, he’s really going through a lot right now!

Rated E, featuring group sex as well as the usual polyamorous multiple pairings throughout. Should also warn that there is gratuitous use of 1980s pop music in chapter 3!

#doctor who fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #crossover #doctor who #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #tenth doctor #jack harkness #oc #fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 link #angst and fluff and smut

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gus-bug · 2 months

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About me:

My name is Fungus, I am 20 years old and I'm an age Regressor. I'm genderfluid and pansexual. I have a partner but I am looking for a girlfriend because we are polyamorous. I am chubby I have short brown hair, brown eyes, and I'm 5'8. I have a lot of mental illnesses I'd like to think I'm very kind and sweet. My current hyper fixation is cottage core, bees, mushrooms, fairies, and frogs, anything nature really. I collect yellow markers and can tabs. I don't have a lot of little gear but hopefully within the next 3 years me and my daddy will move into our own place and I'll get my own little room and have more little gear. (You are still valid even if you don't have little gear)

Some of my favorites:

Color: yellow 💛

Movie : the last unicorn 🦄

Favorite genre: horror 🫣

Favorite book: maximum ride 🦅

Favorite song: yellow hearts 💛

Im going to have 5 tags

#about Gus <- info about me

#fungus' diary <- about my day/ week

# Fungus' spam <- spam of pictures or colorings I did

#gus speaks <- random notes

#Gus answers <- when I get a question

My DNI

-> if you hate for no reason

-> if you sexualize my little space

-> are NSFW

-> are kink

-> are ddlg

-> if you sexualize diapers

-> if your page is not safe for children

#age regressor #sfw little one #agere caregiver #sfw littlespace #about Gus

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karnakthegreat · 2 years

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Right. Here’s your karnak lore

Before we get into it this is me and my kids

And this is my petition to be the tumblr sexyman of 2023

We also have a company (not real) called RTC RP CO™️. @brunos-rat is second in command, @anony-knifey is head of fanfics and @justexistinghere122 is the lore master and Foreigner relationships Minister. I am the Bossnak. If you want a position send in what you want to be in the asks and we can go from there

I have two mothers. They both raised me in England in the north. I lived in a small cottage in the middle of no where with a farm behind it. It was about a 30 minute walk from the closest village. There was also a forest close to my back yard

Threw out my childhood I was homeschooled by my mothers (one of which was very into the occult while the other was very ‘cottagecore’)

I joined mainstream schooling when I was 11. By the time I was 13 I realised I wasn’t straight OR cis by any means. So I went from cis straight female to genderfluid polyamorous bisexual in a matter of a few months. I was also in a band for a short period of time but that was very short lived

On my first day of school I became good friends with a girl called Elizabeth. She collected haunted dolls and we bonded over my doodles werewolf and vampire erotica

In my teen years I began to enjoy the occult so I began doing tarot card reading with my friends. That was when I also found myself enjoying metal and ‘emo’ music

I then became friends with a student from Ukraine who moved to the UK for a bit called Tamara. She later moved to Canada and then back to Ukraine

Towards the end of my schooling my friends and I decided to play a prank on some of my teachers. We got puppy’s,kittens and bunny’s and let them out in the middle of lessons to distract everyone

After this I moved back in with my two mothers

I then began dating Elizabeth (we broke up later on because she shipped me and Virgil and called us Kargil)

Then came the first whipped cream incident. This was when myself, Elizabeth and Tamara tried to fill a swimming pool with it when we were 16. We were unsuccessful

We soon went on a family trip to Canada to a small town called Uranium to meet up with some family friends. We went to the Blackwood Cafe and there I met Virgil

I was sitting alone while my parents were shopping. I eventually got hungry so I went to buy myself some cake. He offered to buy it and I denied however they insisted that they buy me it.

Shortly after I got back to my original seat and he joined me with a shortbread cookie that they had bought for me. He then began asking me about the book I was reading (Pride and Prejudice) and we had a very good conversation over it

We saw each other again at the ‘fall fair’ and he suggested we ride the cyclone. I said no because it gave a bad vibe so instead we went on the Ferris Wheel and then played some games. Virgil won me a teddie bear

Eventually I had to leave so he gave me his email and address so I could contact them either way

We would email every day and they told me how they were very impulsive and had a very big family. I told him that I always wanted to go to Ukrainian, Amsterdam or France.

After a while we met up again in Canada. We planned it in advance and when we met we realised we were in love. I spent the entirety of my visit with him. He showed me his home, his family and even his bass guitar.

On our 4th date he played the bass and sang some songs to me. They were country songs. That was when my mild country faze started. I learned some songs and sang him Dolly Parton to try impress him

When I went back to England they planned on coming back over to see me very soon. He took a liking to England and asked if he could move in with me. Of course I said yes and soon we both lived together in our own English farm

Then there was ‘The Great Ah Fuck’. This was when Elizabeth accidentally let slip that Virgil wanted to propose. Tamara then made the first ever version of my emergency knockout drink, gave me it and then I forgot the past 24 hours so the proposal would be a surprise. It was called ‘The Great Ah Fuck’ because when Elizabeth let it slip both her and Tamara said ‘Ah fuck’.

Virgil proposed to me on Halloween.

The night before my wedding was the second whipped cream incident. This was when they covered me in whipped cream and rolled me down a hill. Virgil had to catch me at the bottom to stop me from getting concussed

Then got married. It was a quiet wedding on our farm with our close friends and family.

At our wedding I walked down the isle to La Vie en Rose and Uranium suite was our first dance song (there was a version we made that was mainly the melody and riding the rollercoaster was a metaphor for our love)

Quite a bit of our time was spent with my telling them about my hyperfixations. They were Rammstein, the occult, Romeo and Juliet, A midsummers nights dream, Ukrainian history and culture, German history and culture, knitting and Phantom of the Opera

Yes I had a musical faze Phantom of the opera will never die fight me my favourite songs were masquerade and think of me they are beautiful

A few years later we had our first child Ophelia. Soon after came sister Nancy and then their brother Jacob. Ophelia was very kind and always wished the best for people, Nancy always wanted to stand up for what she thought was right and Jacob always wanted to be involved in everything I did. Their birthdays (in name order) were October 25th, January 15th and February the 26th. And between you and me Ocean is also one of my biological kids. She was about 1 when I got turned into a machine so I had to adopt her to re-get her as a child now.

They all loved me and their father very much and life was perfect.

I regained my interest with the occult and began doing research. I learnt lots but I wanted to know more and more

To feed my hunger for knowledge I summoned a demon to teach me the secrets of the world. The demon taught me THE LANGUAGE OF THE ANCIENTS

The demon then thought I was getting too power hungry so as punishment it wanted to turn me into a machine. The commotion caused Virgil to hear as he ran upstairs and got caught in the crossfire and became a rat. I never learnt what happened to my children…

I lost all of my memories and eventually found myself meeting Virgil for what I thought was the first time but was actually the second behind a Tesco express. Eventually we began to fall in love again. And so we traveled to Uranium with a circus

We stuck threw it all together and after the Cyclone Accident we got transported to limbo. There we regained our memories of our past life.

While in limbo we adopted Noel Jane and Ocean (and recently Ava) as they reminded us of our children.

When Mischa first came to Canada I payed for all of his medical bills and tied a welcome home balloon to his bed. This is because when I was close with his mother her and I promised that should anything happen to us the other would look after our children.

Noel taught me more about French culture (something that I wasn’t that fond of as I found it too complicated) however afterwards I soon began to love it.

I’ve adopted Mischa. He’s my son and I love him

I found out Ophelia is alive and well…very happy

At 00:21 on the 31st of October 2022 UK time I became human once again

Turning me human wiped ocean of any memories of me. Oh and just found Nancy she doesn’t trust me or believe that I’m her dad. Working on that

I agreed to turn back into a robot to save Nancy and oceans memory’s

Then I became a robot again. Stefan was being a total bitch until one of my kiddos made him change me back

And now I’m human…again

Then I had an uwu faze yeah that was weird

And now I’m going full dilf mode

Ștefan is now in love with me and profusely flirting

I have also met the cyclone they’re very nice and part of the family now

We found Jacob and now I’m so happy

Oh and the demon is moving in

And now I’m here. Adopting more and more children. I will pin this post and add things as and when (I’ll let you all know when I add things) Any questions?

#karnak rtc #dadnak #karnak stirs the pot #electricity rtc #virgil rtc #ride the cyclone #Karnak lore #dadnak for all #bossnak #rtc rp co.

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