#something about an expression of terror and also asking for help

[guy-who-likes-fish]

[slut4thebroken]

Reminisce

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | Your boyfriend of almost nine months finally reveals something to you.

Warnings | Consensual to NON CON, smut, forced breeding, baby trapping, scars, praise, forced orgasm, crying, blackmail?, past rape, lots of talk about rape, like a lot.

Words | 1.4 k

Notes | Pretend I posted this a week before Halloween like it says in the fic lol.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 19: forced orgasm

Also idk this gif just reminded me of this part “he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in.”

“Good girl… Take my fucking cock.” He gruffed, wrapping a hand around your neck, fucking you even harder. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. He was leaning over your body with your legs on his shoulders basically pushed flat against your chest, unable to do anything other than take it. 

“Jackson..” You whined. Each hard thrust was punching little breaths and grunts out of you and he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in. 

“God— This reminds me so much of our first date.” He groaned, confusing you. Your first date was at a restaurant and he only kissed you after walking you to your door… You didn’t know what he was talking about and his cock ramming into you was making it really hard to think about it. He chuckled quietly when he saw your furrowed brows. 

“You don’t remember? It was right here in this bed, you were dressed up as a cute little fairy for Halloween and I was wearing a mask…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finally figure it out. Your stomach dropped as you recalled what was probably the worst night of your entire life. “You looked so pretty crying and begging for me like that, I knew I had to make you mine.” He said with a small smile, sounding almost endeared. 

You stared up at him in shock and horror as the small scar below your collarbone started aching at the memory. There’s no way that your boyfriend of almost nine months was the one who broke into your apartment and raped you last Halloween. 

“W-what?” You said through a breath, voice barely audible. His smirk widened as he took in the terror on your face. 

“I was thinking of waiting until Halloween, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled. “Plus it’s only a week away, and I figured you might shut down on the actual day.” 

All you could do was stare at him, a huge wave of emotions crashing down on you. When the angle of his thrusts shifted a little and he hit that one spot inside of you, you suddenly remembered that he was still fucking you and you started pushing him away. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” Any malice in your tone was completely overshadowed by fear. In response, he just grinned and squeezed your neck even harder until you gasped for air. 

“You were so tight that day… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for almost a year.” He groaned, then his eyes flitted down to your chest. “And that scar… Every time I see it I remember how pretty you looked, crying and begging under me as you took my cock like a good little girl— just like you’re doing now.” 

“Get off!” You yelled, the tears in your eyes beginning to fall as you thrashed under him. He shushed you and just grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head with one hand while the other moved to trace over the scar. 

“You know… The first time you got all choked up when I asked about it, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.” He chuckled quietly, looking between your face and the scar with an almost fond expression.

“Stop!” You screamed, becoming hysterical. “Jackson, please.” When you broke out into a sob, he cursed under his breath and moaned loudly, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 

“God- you were crying just like this…” He groaned, dragging his gaze all over your tear streaked face. “Only last time you weren’t about to come on my cock.” He said smugly. 

You shook your head almost violently, but you could feel your orgasm still approaching, despite what you just learned. 

“And, between you and me… based on how hysterical you were last year, I was worried you wouldn’t be interested in a relationship at all— let alone sex…” He said teasingly, but his voice was becoming breathless as he neared his own release. “But you surprised me.” He chuckled quietly. You could barely focus on his words with how hard you were crying, feeling completely frozen underneath him. “You were so desperate for it too. I guess that’s normal though… Something about reclaiming control over your body and what not.”

“Jackson, please stop.” You sobbed brokenly, but he wasn’t deterred at all.

“Stop? But you were just moaning like a little whore for me two minutes ago.” He said coyly. 

“I hate you!” You suddenly screamed, making him laugh again. 

“No. You hate yourself because you’re about to cream all over your rapist’s cock.” The hand not holding your wrists down moved to rub your clit and your crying intensified. 

“Stop!” You shrieked, thrashing under him uselessly. 

“Beg harder, baby… I’m close.” He moaned as his thrusts sped up. The smirk on his face that used to make you blush, made you sick to your stomach this time. 

You were mumbling incoherent protests and pleas and he let his head drop down as he moaned loudly. His fingers never faltered on your clit and you could feel your unwanted orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“No… No— please.” You sobbed weakly, making him look at you again. 

“Do it, slut. Come on my fucking cock while I rape you again.”

You were crying almost violently now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you practically started hyperventilating. “Please..” You whimpered, squirming under him weakly. The coil of arousal in your belly wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge. “No,” you sobbed and Jackson groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl…” He cooed, making you cry harder. “That's it… Cream all over my dick, baby.” His usually smug tone that used to fill your stomach with butterflies, now just made you nauseous. 

“Stop! Please stop, Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, unable to hold back your moans and whimpers as his fingers continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. 

His lips parted in a silent moan and his eyes closed as his head fell forward, landing on your chest. With one final grunt, he bottomed out, his cockhead pressing against your cervix uncomfortably. You whined through quiet sobs, all while Jackson moaned… savoring every last bit of your suffering.

“Fuck..” He said through a breathy laugh once his orgasm finally faded. He leaned up, taking in the sight of your glossy eyes and quivering lip, then grabbed your cheeks to hold you still, letting him kiss you. No matter how hard you tried to turn away, he was stronger. He only released you once he was completely satisfied. “Mm… good girl.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You were completely frozen under him, only able to let out hiccuping sobs. 

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, his voice overly sweet. “But you’re not gonna leave me.” You stared at him, trying to keep a brave face, but you knew he could see your fear. “Raped twice? You’re damaged goods, sweetheart. No respectable man is gonna want you now.” You let out a choked sob and closed your eyes, hearing him coo again. 

“Plus…” when his voice turned a little serious, your blood ran cold in anticipation, “you’re gonna need me to stick around for our kid.” 

Your lips parted and you stared at him with both confusion and fear as you trembled. “What?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Lucky me, finding a girl who’s selfish enough to make sex feel less good— all because of the ‘hormones’ and side effects of birth control.” He sneered, his voice cold but with a cruel, almost playful lilt. Then he casually added, “You should be pregnant by now. I’ve been poking holes in all the condoms for almost two weeks.”

“Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, not even knowing how to react. 

“I know, honey, but I’ll take good care of you.” He pet your hair gently, then wiped away the tears on your face. “Your boss should be getting something in the mail soon. After he fires you, you’ll finally be able to live up to your full potential. You can move in with me and only have to worry about taking care of the house and our kids, and servicing my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” All you could do was cry and shake your head. 

“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”

[quietplace26]

Another SAGAU au idea, but this time mixed with SAHSRAU?

I'm basing this idea off this post (the creator is called @suiana. give them love!) where the MC lands in Honkai: Star Rail and every character, besides the Trailblazer, Pom-Pom, and the Aeons, hates them.

Warnings: Cringe worthy content. OCness from the characters. HSR characters (minus Trailblazer and Aeons) calling MC an 'it'.

Notes: This is mostly crack, so don't take it seriously. I only included certain characters that I felt comfortable with since I'm not good with keeping characters in character. So, if you want, please send me any suggestions about shenanigans the Genshin crew and MC could get mixed up with while trying to get back to Teyvat, or just how they would interact with the HSR crew.

Basically, the MC is stressed beyond belief. Besides Trailblazer, Pom-Pom, and the Aeons, everyone MC once admired in Honkai: Star Rail, hates them, calls them an it, tries to hurt them, and even tried to KILL them on many occasions.

And when everything becomes too much, they kind of break down? Maybe wishing they landed in Genshin Impact instead.

Then because of Aeon shittery, as the MC is their darling and want them to be happy, MC's wish is granted... and the next moment, characters from Genshin Impact start appearing on the Express... and they all know the Reader!

Reader is quickly surrounded by worried Archons and vision holders, and their chosen Traveler was hugging them, saying they were worried as your presence just disappeared!

Needless to say, the Astral Express becomes more crowded, and you gained a whole bunch of bodyguards that weren't afraid to throw someone down for your honor and safety.

One thing I think would be hilarious if Nahida met Dr. Ratio. He's like all, 'I'm above you or something', because one, she's a 'child', and second, she was with that... thing (the MC).

But then Nahida just tears him down with a sweet smile and quick wit... and then he finds out this 'child' was actually a Goddess of Wisdom.

And speaking of children, the child vision holders become absolute menaces to the HSR characters.

The MC had to on many occasions stop Aha or one of the more chaotic Aeons from blessing the Genshin children.

Especially Klee.

MC and Jean: "Klee where did you get that bomb?!"

Klee: "Masky gave it to me!"

MC: "AHA!"

Klee is definitely Aha's favorite of Teyvatians. She's just so naturally chaotic it brings them joy!

The Aeons as a whole find the Teyvatians to be... interesting, but this could probably be because the MC was very fond of them, so of course the Aeons would be interested as well.

Did the Archons count as Teyvat's Aeons? The Sovereigns? Maybe?

If Long somehow pops in, alive, jump scaring the Vidyadharas, and just zeros in on Zhongli and Neuvillette.

Long's like, dragons? But not mine, not Vidyadhara? There's more like you two (Zhongli and Neuvillette).

And then MC's telling Long all about Dvalin, Azhdaha, Apep, Mini Durin, Ajaw, and goodness knows, all about Natlan's adorable and amazing Saurian population.

Long would also probably find the Melusines fascinating as well because they were born from the blood of the dragon Elynas. And there's 48 of them???

Childe would definitely pick a fight with an Aeon, only for either the Traveler or the MC to grab his ear and pull him away.

Yae Miko would go about trolling the Foxians and spending time with the MC via asking them to help her go over potential new novel ideas. Because this whole experience would no doubt make the best novel to hit Teyvat.

Ei would be like MC's protector like the others but would help them relax via teaching meditation... and if one of the HSR characters butt in, they're in for a nasty shock to the ass.

Zhongli and Neuvillette casually dunking on Dan Heng and the other Vidyadhara, both of which are in awe and slight terror as these true dragons...

...who only spends time with it (the MC) of all things!

Zhongli, for shits and giggles, shifts into a tiny, chunky form of his Exuvia form, his Chonkli form if you will, and lets MC cuddle and smother him with affection all the while Dan Heng and the Vidyadhara are watching in disbelief.

Like this man was like an elder Vidyadhara, a TRUE dragon... and he was waddling around in a tiny, chubby undignified form, and lays on its (MC's) lap like a common house cat!

Zhongli only innocently bleeps his tongue at them before making biscuits on MC's lap and curls up to for some cuddles.

Neuvillette immediately joins in so not to be out done by the Geo Archon, but his form is rather large, so he tends to squish the MC but they only giggle and return the cuddles.

He's so big and long that he scares most of the Honkai characters away while MC naps with him.

If MC starts feeling nervous or scared, Furina dramatically swoops in to steal MC away, drawing their attention by retelling a story of one her many plays as she helps MC with their hair or clothes, maybe even pulling them into a small performance with her Hydro familiar's while Neuvillette stands guard.

Wriothesly helps with MC's self-defense after they admit about feeling scared whenever the Trailblazer, he, or the Aeons aren't around. And considering how the most of the HSR crew treats you... he becomes MC's self-defense coach.

Though afterwards he always asks you to join him for some tea, which usually leads to Neuvillette or others always inviting themselves to join.

When the Genshin crew gets to know the Trailblazer some of them make a connection that they reminded them of the Traveler... A bit of a more feral and raccoon like Traveler.

And since they were kind to MC, protecting them when no one else on the Express was willing to, the Trailblazer was automatically granted access to any of the nations of Teyvat if they wished to visit once the Teyvatians made it home.

Except for the Trailblazer, no one else from the Astral Express was given this permission. In fact, any special guilds, explorers, Stellaron Hunters, and especially the ICP was banned from setting one foot in Teyvat.

Nanook and a few other Aeons made sure to emphasize on this... after setting an example with the first few foolish ones that tried to force their way in.

And that's how Teyvat quickly becomes something like vacation spot for the Aeons whenever any of them wanted to visit MC.

[harryhighkey]

rest, baby.

hi - here is part four of my frontman x reader series!

spoiler: they finally kiss! sorry but not sorry for the slow burn for that moment. hopefully the wait was worth it!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

"Open your eyes now." Player 001's voice sounded out in front of you, his voice was so calm compared to the constant loud terror that had stayed in your head during Mingle.

You did as he said and you were met by his gaze in the little yellow room. Slowly, you removed your hands from your own ears. In-ho's hands were still over the top of yours so they fell from your face too. All of the terrible noises of the worst game yet were over now. The nursery rhyme, the screaming, the fighting, the gun shots, dead bodies being placed into boxes with thuds, it was all over.

But there was another sound that you'd only heard once, that had taken place right before the game ended. A neck breaking. Your eyes did a quick sweep of the room, the man who had snuck in here when you fell to the ground was gone. You looked back to Player 001.

In-ho was still looking at you, he knew what you were looking for. He'd deliberately waited until the guards had removed the dead body from the room before telling you to open your eyes. His eye contact was strong, you still found comfort in it, but something had shifted ever so slightly. You were having an internal battle over if what he had done made you trust him more or less.

He had just killed someone with his bare hands. For you.

"It's over?" You asked, needing him to confirm.

"Yes." He told you and you felt the invisible weight of panic that had been crushing you lift from your chest.

You took in a deep breath but winced as the action hurt your side. Quickly you flinched, your hands going to where the pain struck.

"Are you okay?" In-ho frowned in concern, his hands landing on your shoulders to steady you.

"Just hurts a little."

"Can I see?"

You nodded and your hands went to the hem of your shirt, lifting it to see your side all red from where you had been kicked. "Looks like it hurts a lot." In-ho said, he moved one of his hands so his fingertips just barely brushed the surface of where your skin was red and hot, his jaw clenched. He was furious at the person who hurt you like this.

"I'll be fine." You pushed his hand away and put your shirt back down.

"You don't have to do that with me."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine when you're obviously hurt."

"Well, when I just have this and all those people died, then I'm fine, Young-il." You snapped at him.

He didn't respond, instead silence fell between you both. His expression gave nothing away, you hated knowing how readable your face was whilst his was the opposite.

What you didn't know was the constant internal battle he was facing between being the Frontman and Player 001. Being the man who ran these games but also being the man who wanted to save you from them.

You snapped at him about people dying here, which he was to blame for but he didn't care about those people. He only cared about you. He cared so much about your life and at the same time, he was the reason yours had been put in this dangerous situation, he had to be the reason you get out, too.

"Sorry." You dropped your eyes, shaking your head at yourself. This man had literally just carried you to the finishing line - a finishing line that secured your life - and you were snapping at him? He had just helped and carried you through the worst panic attack you'd ever experienced so you would survive. He killed for you. You tried not to think about that last fact too much.

He had looked out for you more than anyone ever had your whole life.

"Don't be." He shook his head, dropping his head down. "You've been through a lot. Too much." Because of me. He thought.

"So have you." You reached for his hand then, he intertwined his fingers with yours. He kept his face down. "Young-il," You called out to him. In-ho hated that you still didn't know his real name, he wanted to tell you it. He looked back up to you. "Thank you for looking after me. For saving me."

His spare hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your skin. You're saving me. He didn't say that out loud, instead he said, "I told you I would."

"I know, but when I had given up during the second last round. I thought that was it for me."

"But it wasn't, I was never going to let that happen."

"I know that, I just thought I was stronger than that. I should've been able to keep going. I should've been able to handle it." You were disappointed in yourself, dropping your gaze from his now.

"No," In-ho shook his head, his face almost looking pained at what you had said. Both of his hands held your own two. "You shouldn't have to, (Y/N). You are not the problem. What happens here, the people who thrive here, who enjoy it, they're the ones who are wrong." He moved his face closer to yours, barely brushing his nose against yours, you looked back up at the contact, the movement bringing your face closer to his again. You could feel his breath on your lips, your heart thundered. "Not you, pretty girl. You are too good for this place, it's beautiful that you don't belong here."

Your breath hitched as your eyes dropped to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. You tilted your head a little, rubbing your nose against his, your lips just grazing his, inviting him in.

He accepted.

Player 001 closed the distance, his lips meeting yours, finally. The kiss was tender and heavy, you'd both felt like you had been waiting so long for this despite it being just a few days. Your brain felt dizzy as all the terrible things you'd experienced slowly began to dissipate and all you could think about was how perfectly his lips meshed with yours. His hands let go of yours and found your thighs, you sighed into his mouth at the feeling of his strong grip on your legs.

"Come here." He mumbled against your lips. In-ho started to pull you forward and you followed his lead. Between kisses, you lifted yourself so you could settle into his lap and straddle him, your hands holding onto his shoulders, your front against his. You broke the kiss so you could catch your breath, but he wanted more, he was no where near close to being done to having his mouth on you.

Wet kisses were left to the corner of your mouth, your chin until he found your neck. You whined and tilted your head to give him more access, the feeling of it so delicious, you could feel a wetness already forming in between your legs. "That's my good girl." He said, briefly looking at your heavenly face before his lips came back to your neck where he began to lightly suck, his hands moving to your ass. You bit down hard on your bottom lip and whimpered, already feeling so turned on, you wanted to hear him call you that every day.

He started dotting kisses down your neck now, lingering a very hot, open-mouth one to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. "I can't wait to taste all of you." He gripped your ass and you rolled your hips into his. "You want that, baby?" He asked you, lifting his head once again to be right in front of yours. Your cheeks were already growing pink.

"Yes. Please, yes." You nodded, crashing your mouth against his once more. He met your kiss with ease, he was getting drunk on you already and there was still so much more of you waiting to be explored by him.

You were so blissfully surrounded by him, the perfect distraction from everything else you had gone through this day. You'd felt a constant flutter in your chest anytime he had touched you since that first night when he had rubbed your head until you fell asleep. Now that flutter was more alight than ever, bursting with each skilled movement of his lips.

You rolled your hips again, seeking a sensation against your throbbing centre. "Baby," In-ho broke the kiss with a puff of air at the feeling of your pussy grazing over where he had grown hard in his pants. You met his gaze. "Not here." He told you, placing one last peck to your lips and running his hands further up your back. As much as he wanted you, he wanted to make sure it was where you two were truly alone. Your pleasure was for his eyes only.

You whined and dropped your head onto his shoulder, letting out a loud sigh.

He laughed, turning his head so his lips grazed against your ear as he spoke. "That turned on?"

"Shut up." You laughed too.

"I'll take that as a yes."

-----

"To give you some time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow."

50 vs 50.

The vote had come out to a tie.

"No." Your voice was barely audible, you felt hopeless.

Everyone turned to walk back, only you and Player 456 were left standing in place. Gi-hun was staring at the numbers on the screen in disbelief. You were watching the guards as they started getting ready to leave.

You knew you wouldn't make it through another game and you didn't want Player 001 putting himself in danger again to keep you safe. You wouldn't forgive yourself if anything were to happen to him. You were desperate to get out.

Briefly, you turned to look back, looking for the man who had become your solace. He was already walking back to the bunks. You looked at him for a few more moments before turning back to the guards, they had all started to turn away to leave. If you had taken a few extra seconds to think about, maybe you wouldn't have acted so impulsively.

But you didn't.

"(Y/N), no!" Gi-hun attempted to stop you as you broke out in a sprint towards one of the guards, he reached out to you but you just slipped out of his grip.

Others turned at the commotion, the people who voted 'O' hoping to see you run right to your death, the people who voted 'X' were worried.

When In-ho turned at the sound of Gi-hun saying your name and he saw what you were doing, he swore his heart stopped beating. "(Y/N)! Stop!" He screamed at you, voice full of distress. Just like Player 456, he ran after you, but he was too many steps behind now. He could control what happened to you when the games were taking place, but if you were running at the guards to attack them in front of all the other players, he couldn't control the outcome of this and it made him panic.

Just as you were about to grab a guards gun, they turned around at the sound of their bosses voice, seeing you right behind them and immediately holding their gun up so the barrel pressed right against your forehead.

You froze and sucked in a breath, the other guards turned and pointed their guns at you. You waited for the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came. You thought for sure this was going to be your end, this was not behaviour they tolerated.

What you didn't see was the Frontman glaring at them with a warning gaze. His face was hardened in fury at the idea of any of them shooting you and he ever so slightly shook his head to tell them no as subtly as he could without anyone else noticing.

"Move back." The guard commanded at you.

For a moment, you thought about trying to grab the barrel for a last attempt to steal the gun, you knew the speed of your hands would be no match for the trigger on this weapon, but your desire to leave was so strong you considered trying. That was until Player 001's voice sounded out. "(Y/N), listen to them. Come back." You imagined how you would feel if it was him with the gun aimed at his head, the thought of it even too much. So you started to step backwards. The guards kept the guns pointed at you. You could not believe they let you get away with this.

You kept walking backwards, and when your back hit against someone's front, you jumped.

"It's me." Player 001's voice was right in your ear. He grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him. Protecting you again.

-----

"What were you thinking?!" Once the guards had left, In-ho didn't let go of your hand, he pulled you to your bunk with him. He was furious at you for risking your life like that.

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking." You answered him honestly.

"That is clear. That was so stupid, (Y/N)."

"Don't call me stupid."

"Don't be stupid and I won't."

You huffed, crossing your arms as you sat on the side of your bed. "After we lost the vote, I had to try something. I'm not going to make it through another game, I know it. I'm dying tomorrow. That was my last chance to escape."

"I told you, I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know you did, and you got me through today. But we don't know what's coming tomorrow. You can't guarantee that."

Yes I can. He thought, but he couldn't tell you that, not yet. Instead, he let out a deep breath and crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. He tried to catch your eyes, but you avoided looking at him. "Hey," His hand grabbed your chin, halting your movements and forcing you to look at him. "I can keep you safe if you're next to me. But, with what you did just then to the guards. I have much less of a chance of keeping you safe." But still a chance, he was the Frontman after all. "Do you understand?" He was trying to let you know you would be okay, his role was high and important here.

Plus, after learning Gi-hun's plan for tonight, he had his own plan to finally get you out.

-----

Bullets were flying everywhere, it was chaos, it was loud, it was a war-zone. The third war-zone you'd experienced today. First, it was the game, Mingle. Second, when everyone had started attacking each other when the lights went out. You had hid next to Player 001 during that, your eyes squeezed shut, head tucked away in his neck with his arm around you and his hands covering your ears. Third, was now this. Player 456's plan to take over the games, find the Frontman and end all of this.

Through all of it, In-ho had made sure you were by his side. Currently you were between him and Player 388, who was about to go and get more bullets.

"Dae-ho, are you okay?" You leaned in closer to ask him, you could see on your friends face he wasn't handling this well. He had become more quiet, his face turned pale. You experienced your own panic attack earlier today and you were sure he about too as well.

"Yes." He answered you quietly. It wasn't believable.

Everyone else was too distracted by the fight, busy shooting the guards, but you felt concern for your friend. "I'll go back with yo-"

"No." In-ho interrupted you then, his voice demanding. You turned to look at him and his face was deadly serious. "You are staying with me." He was so close to getting you out, he wouldn't let you go back now. Especially not when bullets were shooting everywhere and you could get hit.

"But, he-"

"He will be fine."

You clenched your jaw tight then.

"(Y/N)," Dae-ho called your name and you turned to look at him, concern displayed all over your face for him. "It's okay, stay here with Young-il. It'll be easier for just one of us to go back than both of us."

You nodded and then leant forward to hug him. "Please be careful."

"I will, you too." He pulled back from the hug to look at you. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

In-ho watched you watch him retreat back. He saw the worry on your face, he knew you cared for him and it made him sick with jealousy. He couldn't wait to get you on your own.

"(Y/N), we have to move now."

Player 456 & 390 went one way while you and Player 001 went another.

He kept his body in a place where it would shield you from the direction the guards were shooting from. Although it seemed that the bullets coming in your direction had significantly lessened. Maybe more guards were on the side Gi-hun had taken.

You hoped they were going to be okay.

Each time you reached a new path that broke off into more than one direction, Player 001 chose which way to go so confidently. You were starting to get anxious at the idea of getting closer to where the people who ran these games were.

"Young-il," you reached out for his hand to stop him.

He halted and immediately turned to you. "Have you been shot?" His eyes scanned over your body, searching for blood.

"No, no," you shook your head. "What's going to happen when we find the people who run this?" You spoke with a panicked tone.

He held your eye contact for a few moments before answering you. "You already have." He admitted.

"What-" Before you had a chance to question or even fully process what he had said, he pulled you into him and kissed you. You allowed him to, more than allowed, you completely welcomed it. Your heart instantly speeding up at the feeling of his skilled mouth on yours.

You were so distracted you didn't see him reach into his pocket for the syringe, he almost felt bad at how easy this was. Almost. He didn't because he had convinced himself this was going to be best for you.

When the needle pricked into your skin, you broke apart from him with a gasp, but his strong arm kept you in place.

"You'll be okay." Was what he told you as your vision very quickly blurred, your body going limp in his hold around you. He scooped you up into this arms.

You attempted to speak, to say anything at all, but you were fast succumbing to what had been injected into you. All you managed to do was let out a little whimper.

"Shh, (Y/N)." In-ho said into your ear, and everything started to go black for you. "Enjoy your rest, baby."

[bangchansdirty-slut]

🍊hi I'm the one who requested the jay fic

First it was so good(I've read several of your fics so I'm not surprised)

I was thinking of a park 2 were sunghoon is the cold member of the friend group and finds out about jay and m/n but thinks jay bottoms and follows m/n after school cause he is secretly curious about bottoming

(Also I'm nervous to ask this but do you write for ni-ki cause I had a cute story in mind w/ no smut cause I know some people who get really heated about this)

Ps it's OK if you don't I just thought it would be OK to ask cause you seem chill and not likely to go ballistic on me(it's happening before so it give me anxiety)

Our Secret Part .2

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Top!Jock!Jay x Switch!Nerd!Male reader x Bttm!Jock!Sunghoon

Genre: smut

Requested

Pt.1

More: Masterlist

A/n: Thank you all for the requests. I'm currently working on them, so I don't know when my next post will be, but stay tuned. Requests are still open. Also, I write for all the members of Enhypen. Also, I hope this is what you requested and I did it well.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

"You're going to be late for your math test, Jay," Sunghoon called out as Jay lingered by the lockers, his eyes glued to M/n's retreating figure.

Jay nodded absently, his mind still swirling with the memories of their last secret encounter. "Yeah, I know," he murmured, pushing off from the locker and heading towards his class. He couldn't shake the feeling that Sunghoon had noticed something different about him, but he brushed it off. He had always been the quiet, stoic one of the group—his friends wouldn't suspect a thing.

As the days passed, Jay and M/n's secret grew stronger, fueled by the stolen moments in the bathroom and the risky glances they shared in the hallways. Each meeting was a clandestine dance of desire, the thrill of discovery heightened by the fear of exposure. Jay felt alive in a way he never had before, the excitement of their secret trysts overshadowing the mundane routine of school and the increasingly dull camaraderie of the ENHYPEN.

One noon, as the bell rang and the hallways filled, Sunghoon lingered, his eyes narrowed as he watched M/n slip into the bathroom. His curiosity piqued, he waited, his thoughts racing. He knew Jay had been acting differently, and the whispers of their secret had reached his ears. He couldn't help but feel a strange mix of jealousy and fascination—Jay, the golden boy of the group, breaking their unspoken code of heteronormativity. Sunghoon found himself drawn to the bathroom door, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the minutes ticked by, he heard the faint sound of the lock turning. He waited, his breath held, until the door opened a crack. Jay stepped out, his face flushed, and their eyes met. For a split second, Jay's expression was one of pure terror, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk. "What's up, Sunghoon?" he said casually, as if he hadn't just been caught in a compromising situation.

Sunghoon felt his own face heat up, unsure of what to say. He'd never been one for confrontation, preferring to keep his thoughts and feelings buried beneath a layer of stoicism. But something about the situation, the raw passion he'd glimpsed, had shaken him to his core. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice firm.

Jay raised an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Can it wait until after school?"

Sunghoon's curiosity won out over his nerves. "No, it can't."

Jay sighed, the tension in his shoulders visibly releasing. "Fine." He led the way to an empty classroom, the silence between them charged with unspoken words. Once the door was closed, Jay turned to face Sunghoon, his expression unreadable.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. "What's going on with you and M/n?" he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his stomach.

Jay leaned against the desk, his eyes never leaving Sunghoon's. "What makes you think anything's going on?"

Sunghoon's voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't lie to me, Jay. I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you touched him in the bathroom."

Jay's smirk fell away, and he took a step closer to Sunghoon, his eyes searching for any sign of judgment or disgust. "It's not like that," he said softly. "I just… I can't explain it."

Sunghoon's gaze never wavered. "You don't have to. But if you're going to keep this up, you need to be careful. The others can't find out."

Jay nodded, his throat tight. "I know. Believe me, I know."

Sunghoon studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "But why M/n?" His voice was filled with confusion and a hint of accusation. "You could have anyone you want."

Jay looked away, his eyes misting over. "It's not about who I can have. It's about who I want. And…who makes me feel alive." He took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And it's not just about me. It's about you too, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Jay took a step closer, his voice barely audible. "I know you've been watching us. And I know you've been…curious." He paused, watching Sunghoon's reaction closely. "You've always been so closed off, but I've seen the way you look at M/n when you think no one's watching. The way your eyes follow him, the way you get all tense when we talk about him."

Sunghoon's face grew hot, his heart racing. He hadn't realized his feelings were so transparent. "What are you saying?" he managed to choke out.

Jay stepped even closer, his voice a gentle murmur. "I'm saying that maybe you're not as straight as you think you are." He reached out and placed a hand on Sunghoon's arm, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through Sunghoon's body. "And if you ever want to explore that…I could help you."

Sunghoon's mind raced. He had never considered the possibility that his curiosity about M/n went beyond mere fascination. The idea of Jay guiding him through this uncharted territory was both terrifying and intriguing. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to Jay's hand on his arm, then back up to meet his gaze. "What are you proposing?"

Jay's eyes searched Sunghoon's, looking for any sign of rejection. "I'm saying that we could all learn from each other, you know? M/n and I, we've got this… connection. And maybe you could find something like that too." He paused, his voice dropping even lower. "I know you're curious about bottoming. I can see it in the way you watch us."

Sunghoon felt his cheeks flush, his eyes darting away from Jay's intense gaze. "How did you…?"

Jay gave a knowing smile. "It's not that hard to see, Sunghoon. And I've been there. I know what it's like to have those thoughts, to wonder." He took a step closer, invading Sunghoon's personal space. "But you don't have to wonder anymore. You can experience it."

Sunghoon's breath hitched, his eyes locked on Jay's. "How?" he whispered, the word barely audible.

Jay's smile grew, a hint of mischief playing on his lips. "Well, we could start with you watching us. Or, if you're ready, we could try something with you." He leaned in, his breath hot against Sunghoon's ear. "I'd be gentle, I promise."

Sunghoon's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and fear. He had never allowed himself to act on his curiosity, always pushing it down, telling himself it was just a phase. But Jay's words resonated with him, whispering the promise of a freedom he had never dared to dream of.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice shaky. "I'll join."

Jay's eyes lit up with excitement, and he gave Sunghoon's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Good," he said, his voice filled with a gentle confidence. "Meet us in the bathroom after school. We'll make sure it's empty."

The rest of the day was a blur for Sunghoon. He couldn't focus on his classes, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. He found himself glancing at Jay and M/n during lessons, his imagination running wild with what the two of them had been doing together. The anticipation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his entire world was about to change.

When the final bell rang, Sunghoon's stomach twisted into knots. He gathered his books, his legs feeling like jelly as he made his way to the designated bathroom. He checked his watch, ensuring that the coast was clear, and slipped inside, his heart pounding in his chest. The tiles were cold under his feet, echoing his nervousness as he approached the last stall.

The door was slightly ajar, and he could see Jay's shoes peeking out. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly. "It's just me," he murmured. The door swung open, and Jay's warm smile was the first thing he saw. M/n was there too, looking equally nervous but with an unmistakable spark of excitement in his eyes.

Jay stepped aside to let Sunghoon in, his hand lingering on the small of his back. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes flicking to M/n, who gave him a tentative smile. "I… I think so."

Jay's hand slipped away, and M/n took its place, his touch feather-light. "We'll go slow," he promised, his voice soothing. "You can tell us to stop anytime."

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting between the two of them. Jay's gaze was filled with understanding, while M/n's was a mix of excitement and apprehension. They both knew the risks involved in what they were about to do, but the allure of the unknown was too tempting to resist.

M/n reached out and took Sunghoon's hand, leading him into the stall. The space was tight, but the three of them managed to fit, their bodies pressing against each other in a way that was both awkward and thrilling. Jay leaned against the wall, watching as M/n began to undo Sunghoon's pants. "Relax," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Sunghoon's.

M/n's hands were gentle as he pulled Sunghoon's cock free, his thumb tracing the vein that pulsed with desire. Sunghoon's eyes closed, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt M/n's warm breath against his skin. Jay's own erection was clear, pressing against the fabric of his jeans as he watched the scene unfold.

M/n took Sunghoon in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip before taking him in deeper. Sunghoon's breath hitched, his knees threatening to buckle. He'd never felt anything like this before—the wet heat, the suction, the way M/n's eyes never left his own. It was like he was being claimed, and he couldn't get enough.

Jay stepped closer, his hand sliding around to cup Sunghoon's ass, pulling him closer to M/n's eager mouth. "Look at him," Jay whispered, his voice thick with lust. "You're doing so good."

Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open, meeting Jay's intense gaze. He felt exposed, but also protected, like he was part of something intimate and beautiful. Jay's hand began to move in slow, firm circles, massaging the tension from his muscles as M/n continued to suck him off. It was a sensation like no other, and Sunghoon found himself letting go of his inhibitions.

Jay leaned in and kissed Sunghoon, his tongue probing the depths of his mouth as M/n's tongue swirled around his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had Sunghoon's toes curling in his shoes. He felt Jay's hand move down to join M/n's, the two of them working in tandem to bring him closer to the edge.

The kiss grew more passionate, Jay's hand gripping Sunghoon's ass tighter as M/n's pace increased. Sunghoon's hips began to move, his body taking over as he lost himself in the moment.

M/n's eyes flicked up to meet Sunghoon's, a silent question in his gaze. Sunghoon nodded, his eyes glazed with desire, and M/n took that as his cue to push him over the edge. He sucked harder, his hand moving in time with his mouth, until Sunghoon was panting and trembling, his release spilling out into M/n's eager mouth.

M/n pulled away, a smear of cum on his lips, and looked up at Sunghoon with a smug satisfaction. Jay stepped back, giving them space as M/n turned to face the newcomer. With a swift movement, M/n pulled his own pants down, exposing his already hard cock. He bent over, his asshole puckering slightly, and reached back to spread his cheeks. "I want you inside me," he murmured, his voice filled with a need that was impossible to ignore.

Sunghoon's eyes widened, his own cock still pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He stepped closer, his hands shaking slightly as he positioned himself behind M/n. Jay watched, his own erection straining against his boxers, as Sunghoon tentatively pushed the tip of his cock into M/n's waiting hole. M/n's breath hitched, his body tensing before he began to relax, allowing Sunghoon to slide in deeper.

Jay's eyes darkened with need as he stepped behind Sunghoon, his own erection demanding attention. He quickly shimmied out of his pants and boxers, revealing his hardened length. Without a word, he pushed into Sunghoon, who gasped at the sudden intrusion. Sunghoon's cock was still semi-hard, and the sensation of Jay's thickness entering him was a shock. But as Jay began to move, Sunghoon felt his body respond, his cock swelling back to life as he pushed into M/n.

The two of them started to move in sync, creating a rhythm that was both erotic and slightly uncomfortable in the cramped stall. Sunghoon's hands gripped the divider for support as Jay's hips slapped against his ass, driving him deeper into M/n. The sound of their muffled moans filled the small space, mixing with the rustle of clothing and the slick sounds of skin on skin.

M/n's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt Sunghoon's cock push into him, filling him in a way he hadn't experienced before. The mix of pleasure and pain was exhilarating, and he couldn't help but push back, urging Sunghoon to go deeper. Jay watched, his own desire building as he saw M/n's body react to the new sensation. He knew exactly what M/n needed, and he was eager to give it to him.

With each thrust, Sunghoon felt himself growing more accustomed to the sensation of being the one in control, the one to give pleasure. His own cock was hardening again, and he couldn't deny the excitement of having Jay's thick length inside him as he claimed M/n. The feeling was strange, but not unwelcome. It was like he was discovering a new part of himself, a part that was just as hungry for connection as the rest of him.

M/n's moans grew louder, his body shuddering with each powerful push. He reached back and grabbed onto Sunghoon's hips, pulling him closer, urging him to go harder. Sunghoon's hand found its way to M/n's cock, stroking him in time with their movements. The three of them were lost in the moment, their bodies moving together like they were made for this.

Sunghoon's grip tightened on the divider as Jay's pace grew more insistent. He could feel Jay's cock pounding into his ass, and the friction was driving him wild. He pushed into M/n with renewed vigor, his own climax building. M/n's cries grew more desperate, and Sunghoon knew he was close.

With a final, powerful thrust, M/n came, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Sunghoon felt the warmth of M/n's release spill over his hand, and the sight of M/n's face, contorted with pleasure, was almost too much for him to handle. He came, his own cock pulsing inside M/n, filling him up as he buried his face in the crook of M/n's neck, biting down to muffle his own cries.

Jay watched, his own climax approaching rapidly. Cumming inside Sunghoon was an intoxicating thought, but he held back, wanting to savor the moment. He leaned in and whispered into Sunghoon's ear, "You're doing so good, baby." His voice was thick with lust, his breath hot against Sunghoon's skin.

Sunghoon's eyes met Jay's, and he felt a rush of emotion. He had never felt so wanted, so desired. He pushed back into Jay one last time, and Jay's cock slammed into his prostate, sending him over the edge. Jay groaned, his own orgasm ripping through him as he filled Sunghoon with his cum.

The three of them stood there, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. They were a tangle of limbs and desire, a secret no one else knew about.

M/n pulled away, panting heavily, his body spent and trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Jay followed suit, his cock slipping out of Sunghoon with a wet pop. They both stepped back, giving Sunghoon a moment to process what had just happened. He looked between them, his eyes glazed with a mix of confusion and exhilaration.

"Was it good?" Jay asked, his voice hoarse from his own recent release. Sunghoon nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "It was… intense," he managed to say, his voice shaking slightly.

M/n straightened up, his own pants back in place, and handed Sunghoon a wad of toilet paper. "You did great," he said with a gentle smile, the air between them thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

Sunghoon took it, his hand shaking as he cleaned himself up. He couldn't believe what he had just done, but there was no denying the satisfaction that hummed through his body. He looked up at Jay and M/n, their expressions a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "I… I liked it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jay stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Sunghoon's waist. "I knew you would," he said with a wink. "But remember, this stays between us."

[heartzfromel]

undercover

detective!agnes x fem!model!reader

summary; agnes has a bit of trouble in the makeup department. tony is useless, and rio is busy. luckily, miss texas is bored out of her mind in the room next door, and just so happens to be looking for something to do.

tags; queer awakening question mark, age gap but nothing overly crazy

a/n; jen mentioned who cheered, fyi reader doesn’t know she’s queer, also its the 90s so take that as u will, ignore any mistakes

chapter 1 | chapter 2

your stylist, jen, glared daggers into the back of marvin’s head as he paced around the room, answering several phone calls per minute and overall just distracting her from her work, which just so happened to be your hair.

“does he ever stop that?” she mumbled, leaning over your shoulder to grab hairspray.

“i don’t know,” you whispered back, “sometimes i think he’s a robot who got sent to spy on me by my father.”

“wouldn’t put it past him,” jen smirked, combing her fingers through your hair as she fluffed it up, “et voila! all done.”

“thank you kindly jen, your’e a lifesaver.” you grinned, showing her out.

once jen had left, you pushed your door closed and threw yourself onto your bed, rolling over to turn the cd player on, before closing your eyes, basking in your moment of silence.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

“what?” agnes deadpanned.

“we don’t have anyone to do your makeup.” tony mumbled, repeating himself.

“are you joking?” she spat.

“no…” he began, “we sorta thought you’d be able to do that yourself.”

“tony.”

“yeah?” he replied terror evident in his expression. he loved agnes dearly, but it didn’t take away from the fact that she was possibly the most terrifying woman to walk on planet earth.

“do i look like the sort of person who would know how to do my own makeup?”

tomy paused. now that he thought about it, he had never in his life witnessed agnes in a dress, nevermind makeup.

“get out.” she spat.

“huh?”

“get out! is that so hard for you to grasp, tony? i said GET OUT.”

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

you groaned, the sound of a woman yelling filling your ears as you tried to get 20 minutes of sleep. now normally, you would’ve just got annoyed but left the situation alone, but this girl sounded MAD, and you were bored out of your mind by now, so you decided to go investigate.

when you left your hotel room, you realised that the yelling was coming from the room next door. huh, these walls must be thick, you thought to yourself, because the yelling sounded like it had been coming from somewhere a lot further down the hall.

the pristine white door lay wide open, and a man with dark hair was anxiously listening to the woman’s angry voice, before she yelled at him to get out.

before she slammed the door, you caught her.

“hey, everything alright out here?” you asked, shooting her a smile. this was the first time you had gotten a look at her, and quite frankly, you thought she was ethereal. her long dark hair tumbled effortlessly down her shoulders, stopping at her hips, and her skin was glowing, despite the obvious stress she was under. her eyes were piercing and as blue as sapphires, and she was in nothing but a plush white dressing gown.

“oh everything’s fine, hon!” she grinned back, giggling slightly, as she leaned on the doorframe.

“you sure? didn’t sound like it a second ago.” you replied, curiosity getting the better of you.

“well, that was my agent.” she began, “he just came to tell me my makeup artist couldn’t make it on this trip, she had to cancel.”

“oh, well that’s terrible! do you think you can do it yourself?”

“sure! i’ll be fine!” she reassured you, but something in her voice just wasn’t quite right.

“you don’t sound so sure. here, let me come in and help you out.” you offered.

she looked taken aback to say the least, and you were almost worried you had overstepped. that tended to happen with the other pageant girls. you had a really hard time getting them to like you. marvin told you they were just jealous, because after the pageants were over, you had a dozen magazines and perfume shoots booked, but you weren’t so sure, so whenever someone showed any sort of interest in interacting with you, you would jump at the chance, and sometimes you could be a bit much.

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in as she stepped out of the way of the doorframe to let you in.

you smiled, and she smiled gratefully back at you as you ushered her to the chair that sat in front of her vanity.

“you got any makeup with you?” you asked.

“i’m afraid i’ve only got this.” she replied, ruffling through her bag, before holding up two bottles, foundation and concealer, looking at them as if she wasn’t fully aware of what they were.

“wait one second.” you grinned, before running back to your room, grabbing your bag and rushing back to the woman’s room.

“i got stuff!” you spoke, excitedly, laying various makeup products out on the vanity.

“oh, thank you doll, you’re a lifesaver.” she sighed, the nickname sending a shockwave through you as it slipped from her lips.

“so- uh, what’s your name, anyway?” you mumbled, trying to brush whatever that feeling was as you kneeled down to her level, pinning her hair out of her face.

“agatha harkness, you?”

“y/n y/l/n.”

“that’s pretty.” she sighed, closing her eyes as you began to apply her foundation to her face.

as you continued to do her makeup, your knees began to get tired, causing you to have to stretch them out every few minutes.

“are you hurting, y/n?” agatha began, “here, get up.” she added, gesturing to the vanity. you let out a sigh ad you sat up onto it. you tried not to notice the fact that her eyes never left you, trailing up and down your body every so often, but you didn’t see that part.

“better?” she asked, and you nodded. as you leaned in to do her eyeshadow, you could feel her breath, caressing your face gently. your own breath hitched as the action, mixed with her unbroken eye contact, sent shivers down your spine. what was happening to you?

you shook it off as you picked your favourite red lipstick off the table, leaning in to paint her lips. as her rich, amber scent enveloped you, all you could think about is how beautiful she was, how inviting her scent was, and how you just wanted to fall into her lap and kiss her right there and then, you hands running through her luscious dark locks and her stunning hands gripping your waist. you tried to shake the feeling off, not knowing what was going on. she’s a girl, you thought to yourself. oh my god, am i-

“am i all done?” agatha asked, staring up at you.

“uh, yeah. all done! i’ll see you later, yeah?” you gushed, not fully aware if you’d been staring at her or not. you quickly rushed out, grabbing your things.

“alright!” she smiled, “thank you!”

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

agnes was in big trouble. she didn’t know how she’d managed it, but she’d managed to fall for the one person that she couldn’t, and it was made worse by the fact she couldn’t tell anyone. if this didn’t go away, she’d be done for. she had known you for twenty five minutes and was already struggling to keep her composure around you, which was a really bad thing, considering that her whole goal here was to keep her composure.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door. she groaned, moving to open it, before being greeted with tony’s dropped jaw.

“you look fantastic!” he began, “i saw y/n leaving, by the way. how did that go?”

“uhh..”

one thing was right. and that was that agnes o’connor had messed up.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

taglist; @hannah-0730 @m1vfs @creaturesaphique @push-on-me @chiar4anna (comment to be added)

[mismaeve]

Honor's Downfall

↳ Honor's Downfall, Boromir x Fem!Reader, Bodyguard AU ↳ Request: may I request a !bodyguard Boromir for our dear reader ?? I imagine something with mutual pining. Make it as yearning as you may like ! (requested by anon) TW: angst, mutual pining, hurt/comfort Word Count: 1.7k A/N: I had so much fun writing this! It felt like it took on a life of its own, so I apologise if this is not what you had imagined. I tried to portray pining but I'm afraid that it might have come out as angst in stead. I really do hope you like it, and let me know your thoughts!

“How many times do I have to tell you to address me by my name?” you asked, your tone expressing your annoyance ever so clearly as you watched your bodyguard straighten his back after the ridiculous bow he insisted on performing whenever he greeted you.

“At least one more time, Princess,” Boromir gave his usual answer while his fingers moved to adjust his suit. Impeccable as always, almost to a fault.

“This may come as a shock, but “Princess” isn’t exactly my name,” you frowned.

“How awkward. For almost a year I’ve gone around and thought it was your name,” he dared to mock you in the face of your misery.

Boromir chuckled quietly as you sighed in defeat and rolled your eyes at him. It was pointless to continue your mission of trying to persuade him to abandon his manners and spit in the face of protocol. He was too noble, too honorable to do so. While it was what you admired about him – his unwavering sense of duty – it was also what broke your heart. How could you possibly dream of feeling his hands on your body when even his lips refused to utter your name?

Countless nights you had laid in your bed, imagining how sweet it would sound – your name carried by his velvety voice. Fantasizing about those strong arms around you, holding you tight against his chest - the safest place you could ever be. What you wouldn’t give to have him love you the way he guarded you – fiercely and unapologetically.

It wasn’t unheard of – you naively had tried to reassure yourself on several occasions – to develop a crush on a bodyguard. Days and nights often spent in close proximity after escaping possible danger, practically living together more often than not, the sense of security he provided when tensions were high, the cool and confident calm he always exuded – how could you not fall for his promise of always keeping you safe?

It was during those private moments away from prying eyes that you would catch a glimpse of the man hidden behind the stern exterior. His boyish smile that lit up his face when it reached his eyes, his warm laughter – so contagious and carefree you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. In those precious moments, you almost felt normal.

At least one more time, Princess.

Little did he know that there was no more time. You could no longer wait for his honor to crack.

“Well, as someone so fond of our customs, you’ll love this one – we’re going on a date,” you announced in exaggerated cheer as you got up from the couch, throwing aside the magazine that had previously rested on your lap.

“I don’t follow,” Boromir’s face morphed into a question mark, his eyebrows furrowed together as he no doubt tried to decipher your vague statement while his eyes tracked your movement across the living room.

“Tradition dictates that the royal family members must marry to secure alliances and ensure prosperity and well-being of our country.”

Boromir froze. He hadn’t expected his body to betray him like this, not when he had ordered his thoughts and desires to the deepest darkest corner of his mind. A painful ringing in his ears resonated throughout the rest of his body, suspending and trapping him in this state of cold and paralyzing terror.

He hadn’t seen this coming. His job and sole responsibility had always been to foresee any possible threats, and he had failed to see this – the greatest threat of all. The possibility of losing his princess. It’s what you were and always had been, from that very first awkward meeting when you had averted your eyes with a timid smile on your lips when he had bowed before you. His princess. Boromir had always known that he would gladly die for you, in less than a heartbeat he would willingly and gratefully give his life for yours, never suspecting that a different sort of death awaited him.

All those moments spent together, his eyes tracking your every step, admiring the graceful way in which your body moved. Boromir had often wondered how it would feel to dance with you, to mold your body to his as you glided along the music – blissfully ignorant of the world around you, endlessly lost in each other. It almost felt wicked, pretending that he was doing his job when he knew that he would gladly follow you anywhere either way. You were his sun, warming his soul with your cheerful laughter, your sparkling eyes more beautiful than any precious gem. His princess. His everything.

Now slipping through his fingers.

Boromir blinked and noticed you studying him. He cleared his throat and gathered what little of his professional composure was left at his disposal.

“I wasn’t aware of this custom,” he admitted in earnest.

“Arranged marriages are quite common for royals,” you answered plainly while your gaze still lingered on him, making him wonder if you suspected his inner turmoil.

“I thought it was only for those first in line for the crown.”

“Not always.”

“I also thought that you weren’t one for tedious customs,” Boromir remarked, surprising himself by the bold choice of words that had spilled over his lips. If you hadn’t suspected it before, you certainly would now.

From the day you met, you had fought ferociously against the weight of your title and birthright. Countless battles had been fought inside the walls of your apartment where you would demand that he disregard your noble birth and address you by your given name. Boromir had never given in, not once, even when his heart had screamed at him to oblige you. Even as you had confided in him, after suffering yet another assault by the ruthless and entitled paparazzi, about never having wanted this life, this so-called privilege - his morals hadn’t faltered once. Boromir had witnessed your struggle but had never once offered you the reprieve and normalcy that you so desperately craved. His code of conduct would not permit him to make you happy. Only ever safe.

“What do you expect me to do? I can’t even convince you - my own bodyguard - to do as I say,” you snapped at him, compelled by your own frustration.

Boromir’s words had ignited your anger, your resentment of your title reaching a violent culmination. Bitter tears stung your eyes, blurring his immaculate frame from your vision. In the face of your outburst, he stood quiet, his silence telling you what you always had feared – he would not bend for you.

You closed your eyes, forced to admit your defeat. You had to accept the cold and harsh reality – he would not allow himself to love you.

“You’re dismissed,” your whispered words were barely audible. You couldn’t trust your voice not to betray your pain and reveal the heartbreak that was in the making. He had to leave, his once reassuring presence now becoming unbearable. A living reminder of the kind of life you would never have, the kind of love that would never be yours.

Boromir stood still, his body seemingly frozen solid. Only his heart pounded a punishing rhythm, each pump echoing your dismissal of him over and over, turning his blood to ice. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, the sudden surge of emotion threatening to suffocate him.

The sight of you pained him, the urge to close the distance between you and take you in his arms to hold and comfort growing stronger by every tear that rolled down your flushed cheek. His own aching heart battled and fought against the weight of his sworn oath. What good was honor when it prevented him from soothing your soul?

You’re dismissed.

“No,” Boromir heard himself growl, the sound startling you into opening your eyes. The grief and suffering that he saw in them was enough to break the last of his resolve and jerk his body into action. Within a heartbeat he was right in front of you, his arms going around you and pulling you in for an embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere, Princess,” he promised as he held your trembling body tightly against his own, your sobs reverberating through his soul. He held you through the worst of it, his silent patience allowing you to unburden your heart.

It was quiet now. Neither of you moved, save for the measured manner in which Boromir’s fingers trickled through your hair. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heart where your ear was pressed against his chest, the sound oddly comforting. You found peace in this moment, tucked away safely in his arms where you had yearned to be for so long. If only it would last.

“You really should go,” you whispered meekly, your heart not wanting to let go.

“It’s the one thing I can’t do,” his voice was equally quiet. “But by all means, you should fire me because I can no longer work for you,” he added before pulling away enough for his eyes to find yours.

“Truth be told, I should have been fired a long time ago. A decent man would have walked away but I don’t think I am that man.”

His eyes searched yours, for what – you couldn’t tell, but the fire that burned deep within his grey irises made you hold your breath in anticipation.

Your bodyguard cupped your face, causing a soft gasp to escape your slightly parted lips in surprise. Boromir closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours, a heavy breath leaving his chest.

“I cannot do my job when all I want to do is this.”

Just as soon as the words had been uttered, his lips claimed yours in a kiss filled with longing equal of your own. Warmth exploded and swept over your entire body, burning away any trace of the grief you had felt only moments before, making your heart flutter and swell in response.

The kiss felt like it lasted for hours, both of you lost in the other, trying to make up for the time that had been lost. And when you finally came up for air, Boromir whispered only one thing.

Your name.

General Tag → @heilith @kanafinwe-makalaure @eunoiaastralwings @snowtargaryen @aduialel

@a-contemplation-upon-flowers @fizzyxcustard @dawn-petrichor-world @fckmini

→ If anyone wishes to be either added or removed from my taglist, let me know! ♡ → Maeve's Taglist

Gif by @gifsofhubris-a

[scoobydoodean]

The thing is that when Cas first laid a hand on Dean in hell he was lost, and not actually because "For the first time, I feel". Cas had felt before he knew Dean. We know this because we know Cas had rebelled before. Naomi tells us Cas never did as he was told—that Cas had a "Crack in the chassis straight off the line" (something Chuck later echoes in a rage).

Cas's rebellion is far older than Dean and that rebellion is a function of what he feels. Cas just doesn't get to remember feeling. Each time he does, he's stripped of the memory of it... but subconsciously he starts to understand it as something he must keep secret.

Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?

Cas is in love with humanity, and we conflate this with Dean because Dean is the narrative heart, and the subject of Cas's greatest love, and because the concept of humanity and Dean are so deeply linked they're almost one in the same. We are not at all wrong to conflate the two, but make no mistake—Cas is in love humanity.

You misunderstand me, Dean, I’m not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town.

Cas calls humanity a work of art, and the camera pans to Dean sitting on the bench beside him. Dean represents humanity. Not just as precious works of art, but also because humans get to feel. Humans don't get lobotomized for feeling. Dean encourages Cas to feel. He encourages Cas to feel by asking him to—begging him to, and by feeling for others, and by existing and deserving to be loved himself.

Dean echoes free will to Cas like a call from the wild. He's the beauty of humanity. He's the liberation and beautiful terror of choice. The reason "You always have a choice" and "There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it" works is because Cas already feels, already hopes, already loves.

You were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me about all this, before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me -- now. Please.

The function by which Dean gets through to Cas is through Cas's own feelings and convictions. He gets through because Cas is "not a hammer, as you say". Cas has questions. Cas has doubts.

Cas is in love with humanity, and every time he remembers it, he gets packed off to Bible Camp and he forgets. But he can remember again. What it takes is a push. What it takes is a hand reached out in the darkness. The day Cas rescued Dean from hell, two people were saved. A hand clawed out toward Cas too, breaking through his own torturous prison and offering him escape. For the first time in a long time, he felt.

Dean's importance is that he touches Cas. He makes Cas remember. And he keeps making Cas remember. Through touch, through words, through the expression of his own affection for Cas and for others. Because Dean cares, Cas cares.

[leo-artista]

Hey. So. About that frankenstan comic I was making. I may have turned it into a oneshot that I wrote at like 2am. It's not very well written, and it's also pretty short, but I thought it was decent enough that I could post it instead of the comic (that I will not finish because burnout is kicking my ass rn)

So enjoy some of my rare mediocre writing I guess, because I will not be doing this again anytime soon (also constructive criticism is welcome and very appreciated)

Stanley Pines had died.

He couldn't remember exactly how. Every time he tried to piece together the events that transpired, his memories would get further and further repressed into his subconscious until all he was left with were vague feelings and snippets that he couldn't be sure were memories or a dream he had once. Which, frankly, is expected. Why would his brain want to keep that in his head when it would most likely only give him night terrors? Yeah, no thanks. He already has enough of those as is.

Still, part of Stan wished he knew what had happened. He had tried asking Ford, once, about a week after he "woke up". That was a mistake. Ford didn't say anything. He just looked at him with an expression that Stan spent the next few days regretting having put in his brother's face. Afterwards, they hugged for a long time, until Ford quietly spoke against his heart: "You were murdered."

He didn't try asking again.

Sometimes, it kept him awake at night, making him recount every instance in his life where he almost died. Running from the police, freezing inside his car, getting chased by Rico, starving in the streets, chewing his way out of a trunk- there were so many ways he could have kicked the bucket. So many instances where he had thought his luck had finally ran out, and this time he wouldn't make it. In the end, he had been right about one thing- there was no way his life would end peacefully. Dreams of getting rich and growing old were something Stan had given up on long before his time was up. There was no point in seeking that out anymore, no hope of actually living a life. Only surviving.

Until Ford decided to say fuck you to God and bring him back to life, that is.

When his brother told him what had happened, Stan didn't know what to think. Not because of the whole yeah so I'm Victor Frankenstein now I guess deal- honestly, that was the least surprising part of the whole story. If there was anyone on earth who could manage to figure out a way to reverse death- something no human has succeeded at in centuries of existence- it would be Ford. His brother was just cool like that.

He was more surprised at the fact Ford had done it for Stan, of all people. The man who ruined his life. The guy who couldn't leave his childhood dream behind and grow up. The con-man and criminal who never managed to make up for his countless mistakes. The worthless one.

"Why did you do it?" Stan asked one evening. "Bring me back, I mean."

Ford looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "What?"

Stan shrugged, "Just... seems like way too much effort just to bring someone back, y'know? I'm not sure if I'm worth all of that."

Ford's expression quickly turned sour. "What do you mean by that?"

Stan sighed. "I'm just saying, it would be one thing if I was at the hospital and you came over to help or something. But I was dead, Ford. You can't just come back from that."

Ford's eyebrows scrunched up and his mouth trembled, as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or upset. "If that was true, you wouldn't be here right now." Instinctively, Ford's hand snatched Stan's wrist, his thumb pressing right above his pulse point. Stan could feel how much that small action calmed him.

He swallowed. "Yeah. Because for some damn reason you thought turning me into fucking Frankenstein was a better idea than just mourning me and moving on with your life."

The hand holding his wrist squeezed harder.

"You act as if it would have been easy." Ford hissed. "Like your death was something trivial, unimportant." He looked into Stan's bleak eyes. "Do you honestly think I would have spent all this time working to get you back if that were the case? What, did you think that- that I wouldn't care?" he said, offended.

"I didn't say that." Stan replied. "I just- fuck, Ford. I thought you hated me for all those years."

Ford looked like he had been slapped.

"But bringing someone back from the dead? Spending months fixing their body- replacing limbs, stiching new skin, getting new organs from God knows where? That ain't something you do for just anyone. And sure as hell not for someone you hate." He released a breath he didn't notice he was holding. "And... I don't know what to do with that."

A long moment passed where neither of them spoke. Then, Ford lunged at his brother, griping him with all the strength he had.

"You" Ford croaked, "are an idiot. Of course I would do the impossible and more to get you back. You're not allowed to leave me. I don't care how mad I was with you back then, none of that mattered. You always mattered." He leaned his head against Stan's shoulder to hide the tears pricking his eyes. "I just wish it hadn't taken you dying for me to show that."

Stan swallowed the lump forming in his throat, putting his arms around Ford and squeezing. One of his hands -the few parts that had been preserved from his original body- went to Ford's head, caressing his scalp in the same way he always did back when they were kids. He felt Ford sigh and sag against his shoulder, breath gently ghosting his collarbone.

"Thank you." Stan murmured lowly against his head.

Thank you for giving me this. For forgiving me. For still caring about me, even if I don't deserve it.

Ford didn't reply, but he squeezed back.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello author!! I hope you're doing great, and if not I hope it'll get better for you hehe <3

I would like to request a Tokyo Debunker fic with Alan Mido x Female reader where he gets protective of Reader and gets in a fight, Reader snaps him out of it and then thanks him and comforts him when he starts to feel anxious because he doesn't want to hurt Reader 🥸

thought of this in the shower lolol have fun with it and thank you in advance!! 🙏🏻

lots of love, mwah <33

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry this took so long. I really loved writing this! I hope you like the fanfic!

Gentle Hands

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Alan Mido x gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k (1,804 words)

This fic can also be read on AO3!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When some general students at Darkwick start giving you trouble, Alan steps in to defend you. But when the dust settles, Alan's fears and insecurities start coming back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s the one I was telling you about. The honor student. The investigator.”

You heard the derision in the voice of the general student as you passed them by but paid no attention to it. You’d heard a lot worse from the students at Darkwick in the last few months. And some of those things were from people you now considered to be friends. Or at least as close to friends as you could get with some of those ghouls.

But the voices followed you as you walked down the hallway, never growing quieter as you heard footsteps behind you.

“I hear there’s nothing they’ll disagree with. You can say anything to them and they’ll just nod their head and bite their tongue.”

A snicker followed this as a second voice joined in. “I’ve heard that goes for asking them to do things as well. The professors order them around all the time. So do the ghouls. Reckon we’d have the same luck?”

“Let’s see, shall we? Hey, honour student!”

You’d reached the courtyard by that stage and the yell bounced off the surrounding walls. You paused and, against your better judgement, turned around. Two second years stood in front of you. While they didn’t seem physically menacing, you were suddenly aware of the lack of other students in the courtyard.

“Yes?” The less words you said, the less they could torment you. You hoped.

“I left my bag back in my room this morning, could you go get it for me?”

You frowned. “If you left it in your bag this morning, you can go get it yourself during lunch break.”

The student on the right’s brow furrowed. “Ah, but honour student, it’s your job to help out right?”

“It’s my job to help out the ghouls. Not general students. And not about something as small as a forgotten bag.”

The faces of both students darkened. “So you’re saying we’re not as important as the ghouls, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Just that I’m not here to be ordered around by you.”

At this, both students turned furious, yelling insults and derogatory comments at you. One took a step forwards, raising a hand as if to strike. Instinctually, you took a step back. But your back bumped into something firm and warm. A squeak of terror escaped you as you whirled around.

Alan stood there, arms crossed, his face the dark glower of barely contained anger.

The tirade from the students trailed off as they took in the sight of the newcomer to the conversation.

“Are they bothering you?” As Alan’s eyes fixed on yours, his expression softened, concern flickering in his gaze. You weren’t sure if he knew quite how obvious he was about his affection towards you but you weren’t going to rush him. He’d come to you in his own time.

Your shoulders dropped in relief but even as they did, you shook your head. “It’s alright. I was just explaining to them what my role as honour student means. They seemed confused.”

“Confused? You’re the confused one here!”

Alan turned his focus back to the general students, his expression during stony again. “I think the only ones confused here are you. You shouldn’t be talking to them like that. People deserve respect.”

“Oh yeah? Even ones that do whatever a ghoul asks them to do?” The student nudged his friend, offering up a suggestive smile.

But before the other could do more than present a shaky smile in return, Alan had moved from behind you and was standing in front of the general students, raising a fist. It slammed into the jaw of the general student on the right who crashed to the floor, yelling in pain but otherwise unmoving.

As Alan turned to the other student, he was met with a responding strike to the face. He barely reacted, instead grabbing the student’s hand and lifting it high into the air. The student screeched in pain and clawed at Alan’s arm in an attempt to release himself.

“You don’t say that sort of thing about them. You hear me.” Alan’s tone was measured but his anger clearly poured through. His fist tightened around the general student’s arm and the student screamed louder.

You rush forward. As much as you appreciated him defending you, you couldn’t let Alan send more than one student to the hospital. His reputation was already bad enough as it was.

Placing a gentle hand on Alan’s arm, you stepped in front of him. His lip was split and there was a trickle of blood running down his chin. “Alan. Put him down. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

Alan’s eyes snapped to yours and for a second, the burning rage in his expression turned on you. You couldn’t help the flicker of fear you felt move across your face and you saw the moment it registered in Alan’s mind. He let go of the general student and took a step away from you before turning back to the students, now both laying on the ground.

“They’re under my protection and if I hear you say anything like that about them again, you won’t be walking your way to the hospital.”

The students nodded, scrabbling to their feet and beginning the trek to Mortkranken.

As soon as they were out of sight, you turned to Alan, intending to offer your thanks. But he was striding away across the courtyard.

“Alan!” You started after him. “Come back, where are you going?”

There was no response. If anything, he seemed to speed up.

“At least let me thank you?”

He rounded a corner and by the time you reached it, he had vanished from sight.

You sighed. You knew what was going through his mind and you knew where he was going. You pulled out your phone, sending a quick message to Sho.

Hey. Let me know when the captain gets back, okay?

A flurry of responses came through a few minutes later.

He just showed up.

Honestly, can you two just get a room already?

You didn’t need me to tell you when he was gonna show up here.

Lover’s intuition, I swear…

You smiled at the messages.

Be there in a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you entered Vagastrom, Sho was working on Bonnie. You tapped his shoulder as you passed, making him look to the wrong side before correcting himself. As soon as he saw it was you he sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Should have known. Well, go on. You don’t need me to tell you where he is. Seems like you know everything about him already.”

You smiled. “Thanks Sho. I’ll come by the food truck tomorrow to show my appreciation.”

Sho turned back to Bonnie, grumbling. “Sure, sure. Show your appreciation by makin’ me do more work, I see how it is.” But he wasn’t quite able to hide the smile on his face from you.

You made your way upstairs to Alan’s room where the door was predictably closed. You rapped your knuckles against the door.

“Alan? I know you’re in there. You going to let me in?”

Silence.

“Come on. I’ve got to say thank you properly for earlier.”

“No you don’t. Go away.” Alan’s voice was gruff and you sighed. He could be really stubborn sometimes.

You were about to contemplate your next course of action when someone sighed next to you. You turned to see Leo looking the weariest you’d ever seen him.

“Take this.” He handed you a key. “Don’t ask how I got it. I can’t stand listening to another moment of the captain sulking in there. Just deal with it.” And he walked away before you could answer.

Baffled, you turned back to the door. The key fit the lock and the mechanism clicked open when you tried it again. Pushing the door open, you peeked through to the room beyond.

Alan was huddled on his bed, legs drawn up to his chest, fists clenched and held away from his body as if he was worried they’d burn him. 

“Hey.” Your voice was gentle but Alan’s head snapped up regardless.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” His voice dropped until you could barely hear it. “I might hurt you.”

Your heart squeezed painfully and you crossed the room to sit in the bed opposite him.

“You could never hurt me. You defended me earlier, what other proof do you need?”

Alan’s lip was still split and as he moved, you saw it crack open again, fresh red spilling from his mouth.

“Let me help with that.”

“You don’t have to.” Alan was quick to refuse your help but you reached across to his bedside table where you knew he kept emergency first aid equipment. You pulled out a cotton bud and some antiseptic. Returning to your previous position, you reached a hand out for Alan’s face. He shifted away but you were fasted, gently grabbing his chin. He froze and you guided him closer.

You tipped antiseptic onto the cotton bud and gingerly pressed it to his lip. He sucked in a breath as it touched the wound, twitching in your hold.

“Sorry.” Your voice was a whisper.

You cleaned him up in silence. Only when his lip was no longer bleeding did you speak again.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me, you know. I trust you.”

Alan’s eyes refused to meet yours. “But I scared you today. I hurt people and you were scared of me. I don’t want that.”

“Yeah, I was a bit startled when you started swinging but you were defending my honour. And I couldn’t ask for more.”

Alan’s brow furrowed and you brought your hand back to his chin, guiding his face so he had to look at you.

“I. Trust. You.” You said each word clearly. “You, Alan. I trust you not to hurt me.” You took a deep breath before saying your next words. “I care about you so much and it hurts to see you beat yourself up about this.”

Alan’s eyes widened. “You…care about me?”

You nodded. “I do.”

“In what way?”

You smiled. “I think you can figure that one out. You’re pretty smart.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Really.”

Alan’s hands shook slightly as they reached towards you, hovering near your shoulders. “Can I touch you? Can I hug you?”

You nodded and Alan brought you close, hands as gentle as if he was holding glass.

You made yourself comfortable, doubting you’d be moving anytime soon. Before long, you started to feel sleepy, wrapped in the warmth of Alan’s arms.

Just before you slipped into sleep, you felt Alan press an almost imperceptible kiss to the top of your head. His voice was a whisper as he spoke.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

Also, consider showing some love to my AO3 account which can be found here! All of my fanfics are cross posted to there so if you really liked one, you can bookmark it over there to read over and over. Thanks for your support!

[griffinkru]

　｡ﾟ･ ✧ ˚ ° ｡ㅤ

✧˖*°࿐ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!

girlfriends, modern au! | requests - open ⭑

𐙚 | in which.. when the most amazing girlfriend you ever had asks you to hang out after school, how could you possibly say no?

a/n - this is my first request guys! please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any suggestions or find any errors in any fic at all! have a great read <3 (also do we fw the banner?^)

　｡ﾟ･ ✧ ˚ ° ｡ㅤ

alicent always wanted helaena to make friends, so when she started hearing helaena talk more and more about you, she didn’t think much, finally glad helaena had someone to talk to who shared the same interests as her.

you and helena had one class together, first period. but the moment the two of you started getting closer, she switched around two other class times to be with you. now with three out of four classes together everyday, it wasn’t impossible to see that something was clearly happening between the two of you and when helaena ‘let it slip’ to her mother that she had a girlfriend it didn’t take much of a genius to figure out who it was.

five months later, between various hang outs and outings you found yourself slipping back into her room, quietly shutting the door behind you before speaking.

“i just walked past one of your maids in the hallway, she asked me to tell you dinner will be done in about fifteen minutes” you say, placing the cup of water down on the nightstand and slipping into the bed with her, only getting a hum in return. “tired?” you ask, laying on your back and moving your hand to run your fingers through her hair. helaena turns on the bed, laying her head on your chest as she wrapped her arms around your torso, with her eyes closed. “mhm…i could sleep for hours.” she responded softly, as she curled up closer to you. letting out a soft sigh as she enjoyed feeling your fingers move through her silky platinum blond hair.

“hm” you hum to her with a small nod “well after dinner when i go home you can sleep for the rest of the evening and the whole night, if you’re lucky you might get ten hours” you say letting a small smile form on your face and poking her side, knowing her bad sleeping habits you couldn’t help but tease her just a bit. helaena lets a soft smile fall over her lips at the jab before furrowing her eyebrows and lifting her head up off of your chest, and propping herself up on her elbows. looking at you with her tired grey eyes she mumbles softly, as her eyes seemed a little glassy. “you can’t stay for the night?”

“i don’t think i can today , my love” you mumble while looking down at her. a small pout formed on her face as she stared into your eyes “please?” she asked, practically begging you to stay the night with her as her hands moved up to the sides of your face. helaena always slept much better when she was with you. The nights she slept without you, never ended well. after a beat of silence passes you let a hum escape your throat before voicing a question “why do you want me to stay so bad ?” you ask, moving your free hand over hers on your cheek.

“my bed’s too big and lonely without you.” she mumbled, as she moved to rest her chin on your chest and look at you. she had a little frown on her face as she looked at you. wanting you to stay with her so she could have a peaceful night sleep for once. without a night terror waking her up in the middle of the night. “i can ask my parents” you say moving your hand back to her hair and the other hand to her back. her expression immediately brightened up when you said that. a small smile forming on her face as she stared down at you, with her chin still on your chest. “can you text them now?” she questioned you softly, as her other hand had gone to your chin. her thumb lightly moving across your bottom lip. “mhm” you hum to her with a nod while running your hand up and down her back. a small sigh left her lips when she felt you rubbing her back as she scooted up higher on you, until her face was mere inches away from yours. she lightly bit her bottom lip as she stared down at you. her eyes staring right into yours as her thumb was still moving against your lip.

“come on” you mumble, lightly squeezing the skin of her hip “give me a kiss” the words feel past your lips easily. a small grin formed on her face when you squeezed her hip, and she leaned forward until her face was even closer to yours. her eyes glancing from your eyes to your lips, before leaning up and gently pressing her lips against yours and it wasn’t long before you reciprocated the act. pulling away after a few moments and letting your eyes look over her features. “i love you” you declare before leaning up and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

and it was needless to say the rest of the night was spend under the sheet, exchanging brief kisses and sharing soft laughs over everything and nothing.

　｡ﾟ･ ✧ ˚ ° ｡ㅤ

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back. 

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone. 

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression. 

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind. 

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore. 

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe. 

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret. 

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast. 

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later. 

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in. 

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage. 

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly. 

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss. 

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you. 

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic. 

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you. 

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst. 

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers. 

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing. 

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin. 

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule. 

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'. 

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch. 

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself. 

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms. 

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point. 

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them. 

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town. 

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on. 

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you. 

You couldn't sleep. 

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself. 

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night. 

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company. 

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away. 

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway. 

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor. 

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors. 

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest. 

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad. 

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down. 

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted. 

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least. 

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. 

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out. 

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did. 

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks. 

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again. 

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk. 

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take my hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

[arlechinav-blog]

Types of Trancework & The Mysteries

(Pictured: Kore & Demeter with initiate.) This is going to be a long one.

Being a dance ethnologist, I have focused a lot on the practical techniques for trancework utilized by Mediterranean peoples past and present. If I had come from a classics background first and did not have a solid background in dance history and methodology I think the outcome of my work would be expressed very differently. A lot of the folks who read this blog do have some kind of background in classical Hellenic studies and are also interested in how to utilize this stuff in the context of the Mystery Religions of the ancient Med. If you are one of those people, this post is for you. Happy reading, friends, and feel free to ask questions if you have them. A Quick Overview of the Types of Trancework I break the different types of trancework used in the Med down into 4 categories based on the methods used and the purpose of the trance. This is specifically something you would get from looking at it from a practical perspective--How do we do it? What does it take? What is it for? 1. Basic Trance--For joy, celebration, experimentation, work, sleep, pain management, and things that are not specifically spiritual. 2. Catalyst Trance--Shapeshifting, heroic embodiment, bilocation, and things that might be described as magical workings. A lot of the things this is used for relate directly to archaic folk religion. 3. Spiritwork--Any type of trance that involves interacting with spirits other than your own but are not gods. Death spirits, nature spirits, and wind spirits being the big 3. 4. Euphoric Trance--Deity bridalwork, prophecy, coming into the presence of divinity. Each type of trance builds on the skills and cognitive developments supported by the previous category. I have done a full blog post on some of these categories so if you would like to explore deeper definitions for those, follow the links.

*Also check out: Training for Trancework

(There are a lot of ways to break down trancework--which is helpful if you want to puzzle out the different methods in use and what they are used to do. You could have a completely separate category for every purpose if you wanted to. It really only affects how you think about trancework. I use these 4 to give us some common understanding so we can build from there but if it helps to think of it differently then go for it.)

(Image: Sailor pulling rope. Sea shanties are excellent examples of basic trance in action.)

Understanding Basic Trancework

Just about everyone in the ancient world would have understood and participated in basic trancework from infancy until death. It would have been something they were very familiar with even if they didn't put words to it. This is because trance is and was everywhere in daily life. Lullabies are trance. Work songs that are used to time things and coordinate movements are also trance. Prior to industrialization it was just how things got done. -Sing a song that lasts X length of time while kneading dough to make bread. It is and was a popular method for detemining how long it takes to complete a task. -Songs are used to keep a working rhythm for weaving, especially works that take multiple people like weaving cords of rope. -Threshing and harvesting songs keep people working long hours under hard conditions to reduce exhaustion. -Rope handling and rowing songs are used by sailors to coordinate feats of strength that have periods of muscular rest and tension.

Humans are musical creatures. We have done a lot with those skills. Bluring the lines between secular and sacred in daily life.

(Image: Kallikantzeroi. Boogeties associated with winter mischief. These roles were actually played by people as shapeshifted humans terrorizing anyone who went out at night.)

Understanding Catalyst Trancework

Catalyst trancework involves utilizing a fuel source to power the trance effects. This allows the trance to go on longer without being laced to a type of labor. Without having a job to repeatedly perform and get lost in, entheogens and powerful emotions can be used to keep it going for long periods of time. There is also a fuzziness to the mind that occurs during catalyst trance that does not feel the same as the wandering mind more commonly found in basic trance. You are more likely to have an active imagining mind while engaging in basic trancework and a bit more of an empty head caught in current sensory experiences with a catalyst trance. (More likely but this is not a hard and fast rule--humans come in a lot of varieties so it is hard to generalize about experiences.)

In the context of the Mystery religions, catalyst trancework is not done by everybody. Anybody can get drunk and trance but that is an entirely different thing than the coordinated and specific efforts that go into a mystery tradition. Catalyst trancework is used in Mysteries that involve heroic embodiment--becoming a hero and engaging with a ritual play that involves what some might describe as sympathetic magic. All of the traditions described in my blog post titled, "Ancient Agricultural Rites Hiding in Plain Sight" are examples of heroic embodiment and catalyst trance. Catalyst trancework is strongly tied to heroic carnival traditions like Anthesteria and Quirinalia. Anything that involves an appearance from the entourage/ thiasos.

Regalia for this often involves masks and dressing up as named characters (every region has their own names). And the whole thing is fueled by whatever the local favored alcohol is--and there is a lot of variety. The fact that it is local is important to carnival traditions. It isn't just a matter of opening any ol' bottle of something, it is opening the locally produced something that honors the spirits of the area you are in.

The difference between heroic embodiment and shapeshifting is rather skin deep. Shapeshifting is the embodiment of animals and wild spirits while heroic embodiment involves taking on the mantle of hero, being the hero. Shapeshifters are frequently (but not always) cast as boogeties, monsters, and spirits of death. Heroes are the ones that ritually fight them in dance battles that may or may not involve trading actual blows. Their objective is to battle it out in rituals of sympathetic magic where life triumphs over death.

Catalyst trancework can also describe the act of drunken trancing without any purpose. So, it does not refer strictly to any Mystery religion but it is one technique among many that was and is utilized in some mystery traditions. More on that later.

(Image: A wind spirit. The personification of passion (in the illness sense, not in merely feeling an emotion). These bodiless beings like to take possession of human bodies so that they can experience their preferred physical sensations but the byproduct of that is a troubled mind for the human host--aka the Bride.)

Understanding Spiritwork

This is a category that has the least amount of written material out there about it but it is the one I have studied in living traditions most extensively. Spiritwork can be divided into possession or communication based. To an outside eye, possession and heroic embodiment look very similar. Both involve the use of regalia and can involve the entranced interacting with named spirits. The differences appear on closer examination. For one thing, it is usually done without mind altering substances. No alcohol or emphasis on emotional connection to the music to kick things off. And secondly, possession is thought of as a spirit marriage between a human and their possessing spirit. There can also be more than one possessing spirit at any given time hovering over the Bride. For heroic embodiment and shapeshifting, there is only one role per person at a time. Also a Bridal relationship is permanent while heroic embodiement and shapeshifting are often temporary--usually lasting a period of about 9 years (unless it is a hereditary tradition, this can change from region to region).

Possession is always permanent from a reconstructionist standpoint. Exorcism (as a ritual and thoughtform) did not enter the equation until somewhere around the 1st century CE. So, there are living traditions of exorcism in the Med but they tend to relate to monotheistic concepts about the hierarchy of the spiritworld. Excorcism is being defined here as a removal of a spirit who has attempted to form a Bridal relationship with a human. Spiritwork can encompass rituals of exorcism, I just don't do it because the recitivism rate makes the point nearly moot. (It is ridiculous, something like 97% of exorcisms relapse within the first year.) Ancient peoples knew this and understood it but a lot of people really, really wanted a quick and easy fix to this problem so there was a ripe market for anyone offering exorcism services.

Possession is tied to two categories of spirit--nature/wild spirits & wind spirits. Nature spirits are tied to romance and intimacy while wind spirits are tied to mental health. At their core, these traditions are ancient methods for dealing with anxiety, intrusive thougts, obsessions, addictions, and things that make life difficult. That is what these spirits are and the rituals we do with them are methods of keeping them in check. This is why it is expressed as a marriage. By externalizing these things, they can then be isolated and managed where otherwise living with them would be debilitating. It doesn't affect everyone but the harder a life has been, the better the odds of requiring these kinds of rituals to keep life in balance and allow a person to be more functional while also keeping the onus of the blame somewhere else. Because a person will have a harder time healing if they cannot separate these things from the whole of themselves. It is a kindness.

The other kind of spiritwork relates to what we might think of as mediumship. Essentially communicating with spirits, including the spirits of the dead. This is also not considered voluntary as far as I know. The ability to do this is passed down in families, though not genetically. It can ricochet off your aunt who married into the family and land on you. Usually there is some kind of story or reason for this ability to spontaneously appear, it afflicts widows more than anyone else. And I say affliction because this is not exactly thought of as a purely positive thing. Not everything can be defined as good or bad and this is one of those mixed blessing, grey area, cursed with awesome sort of things.

Spiritwork features prominently in the customs associated with Summer Dionysos as well as the goddess Kybele. Dionysos as a god of madness (there is that mental/emotional health connection) and Kybele as a mother of monsters (winds). More on that later.

(Image: Persephone and Demeter in iconic regalia.)

Understanding Euphoric Trancework

Euphoric trancework is a big deal. It takes the most dedication, the most preparation, and the most formality to successfully pull it off. It utilizes skills acquired from all the other categories of trance as well, which means to my eyes that this is not something to rush into before exploring at least some of the other forms of trance first. However, this seems to be the one that a lot of folks make a beeline towards when starting out. Which can really shoot you in the foot if you actually want to experience everything that it can do.

Trancework has physiological and neurological components to it. It is not something that you can just believe whatever you want about and expect to get the same results as someone who picks and follows a specific known path to get there. All trancework makes you feel funny. If you want to feel a little giddy while dancing around and dedicate that to a deity, that's wonderful but it is not what I am talking about here. Euphoric trancework is something very specific and difficult to do on accident.

I break it down into deity Bridalwork, prophetic Bridalwork, and coming into the presence of divinity--just being in close proximity to a deity. It cannot be treated casually if you want to experience these things in a similar way to how these things were experienced in the ancient Med. Deity Bridalwork and Prophetic Bridalwork are extremely similar to each other but they have different ritual objectives.

Deity Bridalwork is essentially making yourself into a horse for a deity. This is a culturally encoded concept that means "your body gets possessed by a god." Pay close attention whenever a sacred legend talks about a deity or daemon being strongly associated with horses, that is often a pretty big clue that they are frequently associated with these types of rituals. Bride is a gender neutral term in this context.

This is done in ecstatic rituals where the deity is expected to be present and presiding. Non ecstatic rituals where the deity is expected to be present and presiding will involve a statue as a substitute for this. Ecstatic rituals are occasions where miracles take place and people get to interact with an embodied deity in the limited ways that would be appropriate--engaging with their prefered rituals tools, foods, colors, scents, drinks, and anything relevant to the current place in the calendar cycle.

Prophetic Bridalwork involves all of that plus the added bonus of receiving a truthful statement about matters beyond human perception. That phrasing is important. If a prophecy is truthful and useful then it is divine. If it is untruthful or not useful (or just gibberish) then it comes from some other source--most likely a daemon. The ability to do this accurately and to be able to spontaneously compose it in verse on the spot provides proof of state. In other words, the proof is in the prophetic pudding.

Coming into the presence of a deity is done without any kind of embodiment. It is merely a matter of singing the right songs and doing the right kind of dances. These are (usually) stately and highly formal. Most of the gods are dignified in their conduct but there are a few yahoos in the pantheon that prefer a bit more crash and chaos. (Looking at the entourage of Dionysos and Kybele here.) This can be done without a lot of messing around with other forms of trance but you should at least be able to reliably get yourself in and out of a basic trance before giving it a go. The goal of this one is just unity, oneness, feeling close to divinity. It has a positive impact on the mind, body, and spirit of the participant and that is enough of a reason to do it.

How this Applies to the Mysteries

I would love to give an overview of each Mystery Religion and be able to say, "X trance category is used in Y Mystery tradition," but (alas) things are a wee bit more complicated than that. The complicating factor is that in some of the more involved Mysteries, like the Eleusinian Mysteries, there are multiple kinds of trance utilized by different people at different times depending on the role being performed--the initiate experience is going to be very different from that of someone who is embodying a deity or a hero. So, it isn't as simple as saying "X category of trance is used for Y Mystery."

Also, the Mysteries are strongly associated with trancework in popular imagination but they are not the only place where it can be found. Trancework is involved to some degree in just about every avenue of traditional worship. Any religious occasion that features music and dancing will feature trancing as a byproduct. It can be fancy stately well-coordinated trancing in a large circle dance that goes on for a long time. Or it can be goofy drunken reveling that goes on for a long time. Holy is holy. We don't discriminate in this house. Both of those examples are of basic trancework done in a religious context because the goal is just to dance with the community, the trancing is a happy byproduct. The trance produced by it is not used to do anything beyond keep that dance going. Context is everyting.

The other thing to keep in mind is that different types of trance would be used in the same type of mystery in different places. As an example here, in the wider pattern of Grain Mysteries, the fellahin of Letopolis would basically all practice ritual heroic embodiment instead of it being just a limited number. Whereas the Arkadian methods would have called for a separation between the duties of pilgrim first timers and old-hat locals, with limited numbers of people performing heroic embodiment with a whole separate ritual selection for who gets to do it/has to do it.

I try to simplify things and show you what to look for so that you can apply those concepts to whatever Mystery or tradition you happen to be studying. It is easier to take a look at a known ritual occasion and just ask yourself, "What kind of trance experience is being described here?" That being said, I'll get into some of the low hanging fruit to give you some examples to start working from on your own.

Dionysian Trancework

Dionysian cults do it ALL. They do not pick a lane. Each method is utilized for something different in the context of Dionysian trancework. Basic trance is utilized during harvesting and in the process of pressing fruits to make wine. Spiritwork is heavily involved in the trancework done for Dionysos in the summer months (like Tarantella). In the cold months (during carnival season) it is almost entirely about heroic embodiment--which is Catalyst trancework and that makes sense because it is when the new booze becomes available. And then there are the Orphic hymns which, to my eyes, are primarily intended for euphoric trancework.

So, if you want to engage with Dionysian trancework, you really can't go wrong. Any category you want will engage with some aspect of it. But if you are looking at your calendar and trying to plan out what kind of ritual you want to participate in: Harvest = Basic Trance Summer = Spiritwork Winter = Catalyst Trance Whenever = Euphoric Trance

If you read in between the lines here you can also imply that the Orphic hymns are suitable for Euphoric trancework--which can be done at any time or at specific points on the calendar that hold some meaning for you or the tradition that you are engaging with. Shapeshifting rituals are most likely to take place during the colder months. Possession rituals happen in the warm months. It helps to structure and pace things a bit. There is a cycle to it.

Grain Mysteries

The Grain Mysteries are not confined to the rites of Eleusis but those are probably the most well known. The Grain Mysteries rely quite heavily on heroic embodiment. It is a major aspect of the ritual process and one of those neat little details that does not get discussed much in classical texts about it. It is extremely prominent in living traditions and folk religion though, so that is where I am coming from with this. There are 4 dates of importance for those who participate in the heroic embodiment dance battles. In the Christian world, they map onto the four embertides--Ash Wednesday, Pentecost, The Exaltation of the Holy Cross, & St. Lucy's Day. These correspond to 4 Grain Cycle festivals of the ancient world (I'm going to pick on Rome for this since their dates are fixed and easier to chart):

Quirinalia on February 17th Robigalia on April 25th Consualia Aestiva on August 21st Larentalia on December 23rd

(Not everybody has calculated their calendars in the exact same way over the last 3,000 years so be aware that dates will not line up exactly, which is why I generalize it a little bit.) These are the days when those who have been chosen for a role as a hero or as a boogety will get dressed up and beat the stuffing out of each other in dance battles that go bonk. Those are all catalyst trance rituals.

Drinking kykeon as an initiate would not be catalyst trance unless it is done in such a volume (or recipe) as to produce intoxication. Intoxication is not required to produce a trance but a lot of modern folks with no background in trancework sure like to emphasize it. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. I don't know. To my eyes, it sounds like it was used as deiknumena (a hypnotic trigger that produces an expected dromena/responses). In this case, it sounds like the initiate drinks the kykeon and the mere act of drinking a single sip of it is holy enough to induce feelings of euphoria. Given that the purpose here is to come into the presence of a deity, I would categorize it as a type of Euphoric trance that happens to involve a sip of something (alcoholic or not).

Deity Bridalwork could also be involved here with the Lesser Mysteries in Anthesteria (February-ish) and the Greater Mysteries in Bodromion (Sepember-ish). They function like book ends for Death Season.

I'll have to make a Part II to include some of the fun ones like the rites of Mithras and those of Aset/Isis. This should give you plenty to chew on for a while though. As always, let me know if you have questions.

[trainer-from-unova]

spider under the moon

english ao3 🕸️ spanish ao3 🕸️

SHIP: moon knight x spiderwoman!reader SUMMARY: after the incursion you ended up in another dimension without being able to go back to your dimension or your ex's, but there's a man (or rather three) who look like his twin, so you can't help want to be close to him AU: post-incursion (post-Doomsday and Secret Wars) C/W: light angst, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, stalking, crush confession, bittersweet ambiguous open ending A/N: english isn't my first language, sorry if something's weird expressed WORD COUNT: 1138

The first time she saw him she didn't pay attention to him, she couldn't imagine how important he would be in her life, or rather, how important he wouldn't be — besides, she was busier fighting on the battlefield of the new world that had emerged from the incursion. Part of her wanted to believe that everything would work out, that he would find a way to fix everything since he was an expert in the multiverse and that one day she would see one of those orange, hexagonal portals appear in front of her again, but the more realistic part of her conscience told her to forget about those fantasies and accept her new life once and for all.

Moon Knight was identical to him in physique and even, dare she say it, in (a) personality (and even one of them speaks Spanish). He was so close and yet so far away... Even though she knew he wasn't really him she wanted to get closer and hopefully have the same relationship she had with Miguel, but she didn't know how. With Miguel everything was more natural and easy, maybe because they had more things in common, but with Moon Knight everything was more complicated: he had several personalities, he wasn't a Spider and he was a lone wolf. She was only lucky to meet him a couple of times, guarding the streets of New York at night. She thought about offering to team up with him, but she suspected there was little chance of them agreeing, and deep down she knew it was better to stake out separately, to cover more ground and protect more people.

Still, even though she knew it was wrong deep down, she sometimes stalked him. It was the closest she could get to him, and she also knew it was pointless, but she couldn't help it. She followed him at a safe distance, swinging between the buildings from web to web. But that night, for a moment, she lost sight of him. She landed on the roof of the building where she last saw him, glancing in all directions over the edge of the cliff. When she gave up she raised her hand to throw another web and leave, but it was cut off by a sharp object thrown behind her before she could jump.

Surprised by the attack from behind and the fact that her spider-sense hadn't warned her, she turned quickly to throw another web, not to swing away but to catch and immobilise the attacker, but he dodged it.

"Moon Knight!?" she asked completely surprised and confused to see that the attacker was him, changing her pose from an attacker to a defensive one. He was a superhero but there was always the possibility that he was controlled by a villain or something like that. "Why did you attack me?" she asked concerned and even a little hurt.

"Why are you stalking me?" he asked seriously, pointing at her with a nod of his head. She felt less terrified now that she knew he wasn't being controlled by any villain and didn't really intend to fight her, so she relaxed her pose. But the terror was still there, mixed with embarrassment that she had been discovered. She wanted the earth to swallow her up.

"I wasn't-" she said nervously, feeling her eyes watering. "I just-"

"Don't play dumb with me," he said seriously and now also annoyed as he magically removed his mask, showing that familiar face and facial expression. Instead she had to reach up to remove hers. On the one hand she didn't want to be seen by him like that, but on the other hand she thought that hopefully he would take pity on her when he saw her embarrassed face, apart from the fact that if she was going to cry and she couldn't help crying under it, it was uncomfortable as she couldn't wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she hastened to say, and thought it best in that situation to be honest. "I like you," confessing that once and for all felt like pulling off a band-aid — painful but by doing it quickly the pain was short-lived.

"...What?" he asked still (and even more) surprised and confused, but also calmer and making the decision to slowly approach her. As she watched him approach, she felt her cheeks grow redder with each step he took.

"I know it's hard to believe," she said overwhelmed, "but-"

"No, I believe you," he said. "I've noticed the way you look at me when we meet, when you're not wearing a mask," he reported matter-of-factly (though thankfully without a mocking tone), and she grimaced in annoyance at the information and blushed even more when she realised how poorly disguised she was with her eyes and expressions.

If it wasn't for the incursion she would be patrolling the streets of her universe's New York or be in 928, in the Spider Society with Miguel and many others who understood her perfectly, and not living this embarrassing moment with him. She couldn't help but shed a few silent tears from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.

"It won't happen again, I promise," she nodded apologetically, looking in another direction, not daring to look him directly in the eye, especially at that moment when he was so close. "Now, if you excuse me..." she said as she quickly wiped her eyes and cheeks, pretending to put her mask back on and run off with the web between her legs.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just... I don't know," he asked with a shrug, genuinely curious as to why she liked him and why she thought it was a good idea to stalk him, and also wanting to stop her and even comfort her after seeing how concerned she had been by this encounter and conversation, "to ask me out?"

"Mmm... I suppose," she said sighing apologetically, "but I didn't dare. Watching you from a distance seemed like a better option," she confessed as she shrugged, still not daring to look him in the eye, let alone dare to say the word "stalking" aloud.

"There's no need to cry or to be afraid of me, I don't bite, you know?" he asked, or rather, he reminded in an attempt to make her feel better, trying his best to sound as kind as possible and not too tired, but such an emotional situation was beyond his abilities. He wasn't very good with feelings (specially romantic ones), that was Steven's thing, and he didn't want to give him control of the body because it was his turn and he also didn't want her to think he was uncomfortable enough to run away and change personality.

"Yeah, that's the problem," she thought, remembering Miguel once again.

[jordanstrophe]

More Walter and Gabriel? 👁👁 perchance?

Critical roll - I don't even know what timeline this is anymore

CW: Parental whumper, chained, captive

Gabriel shakily pulled his pant leg up. The thick cold chain had been left on his ankle far too long and was starting to bruise.

Sometimes the man felt kind enough to give him a break and take it off. With strict supervision, of course, but his mood had been sour lately.

He could ask, and would probably get it; but the thought of approaching the man and speaking to him willingly threw the pit of his stomach in a storm.

His ankle wasn't looking well, however.

He swallowed past the pit in his throat and stood behind Walter, who was on the couch reading the latest newspaper. It was the only news the man consumed, and Gabriel was forbidden from it.

Probably because his sudden disappearance was still being printed. He saw a glimpse of it once in the trash can. 'Search for Missing Man Intensifies: Vehicle Still Unfound, Whereabouts Unknown. Authorities Urge Public to Report Sightings.'

"Can I ask for something?" Gabriel softly spoke. Walter tilted his head back, his once scorn expression turning soft.

"My Dove," He smiled and extended his hand for Gabriel to take. He didn't want the man to grab him but didn't dare disobey. His hand was taken as Walter pulled him onto the couch beside him.

"Look at you speaking up. What is it I can do for you, my son?" Walter hummed and stroked his face. Gabriel huffed and blinked his eyes closed. He gritted his teeth hoping his voice won't come out in terror.

The man didn't seem to like that kind of voice. Said it made him feel like a "monster" to see Gabriel terrified of him.

"The chain," Gabriel half stuttered. "It's bruised and starting to hurt. Can you.... Do something?" He asked.

He watched the man's eyes dart to his ankle and stiffen. "Oh, Dove, I forgot about that. Why didn't you say something sooner?" Walter scolded. He reached to his belt and unhooked his dozen-keyed ring. It jingled as he fiddled for the right one, then waved his hand.

"Leg up, on my knee." He ushered. Gabriel sighed as he lifted his leg into Walter's lap. He winced as Walter firmly gripped his ankle and he felt eyes burning his soul.

"Do you remember the rule?" Walter asked lowley.

"Never to leave your sight." Gabriel quoted in a mimicking tone.

"That's my boy." Walter beamed up as he ruffled Gabriel's hair. There was a rusty click as the chain popped off his leg and was lowered to the floor. The lack of weight felt overwhelmingly freeing. Gabriel pulled his leg out of the man's lap and curled them to his chest, rubbing his ankle.

"Thanks." He flatly mumbled into his leg. He knew the rule; he was not to leave the man's presence. They watched a movie, he helped cook dinner and he played the piano with the man lingering over him the whole time.

He hated every second of it. But having the chain off was even better.

-------

I would have so much fun rewriting the entire story from scratch with my current writing style. My boys. My beautiful boys. I miss them

ALSO LOOK THEY GOT FANART FROM @nials-stuff

Look with your eyes, it is so in front of you 

[molluskmirage]

the boogeyman effect following Bbh from purgatory 1 has been a very fascinating phenomenon.

there is alot of residual and lingering opinions of Bad from both characters and fans and its been interesting because having watched Bads pov he really didnt do anything more then what others did in purgatory. Q!Phil is mad because Bad terrorized his team but bad had far less kills then Tubbo, and plenty other teams were around terrorizing others Fit slaughtered Tina and soulfires farmers (most of which then never returned)

Q!Tubbo is mad for ‘day 12’ for a poor decision Bad made, but Bad was carrying the team mostly alone for many many hours the whole 2 weeks (the most out of anyone on the team) I think he could be forgiven for not having the clearest decision making skills running ragged and getting killed.

Q!Bagi feels betrayed by bad and has been more comfortable around tubbo since p1 but tubbo murdered her before she could say a word in p1 and Bad asked for her consent first before doing so.

Q!Etoiles is salty about the 2v1 but he and Fit started it by attacking tubbo alone who then had to run to bad and it was a 2v2 before then becoming a 2v1 as Fit backed away injured

Q!Phil has also mentioned that bad has not taken responsibility for his actions and this is echoed a lot in fan spaces but Bad is constantly taking on blame for things he may have only been adjacent too. He’s said he’s killed a lot of people, he jokes that he’d do it again. He doesnt often show remorse for his actions which I think is more what some are after but he does acknowledge things he doesn’t pretend it never happened. He told Pepito he was a monster. And anytime some express anger towards bad he respects their feelings (that doesn’t mean he’d chose to act differently or feel remorse in such actions but he doesn’t tell anyone theyre not allowed to feel that way)

its a fascinating subject to me because this effect has carried over so strongly within the space despite the fact Bad didn’t even have the highest kills in p1 for soulfire (it was Tubbo by quite a margin) yet Tubbo is often unnamed as the wrongdoer. Bagi set up Bad for death, while it didn’t come to fruition she still did that to Bad. Bad could not do anything but run when red team took on the bounty system which was excruciating to watch. Red also showed no mercy when the boats arrived and killed Bad the sole player for blue leaving his body in a zone that would kill a naked player.

Bad did do wrong he spawn killed Jaiden. However his stalking home bases and killing others in general was no different then all of the other skilled players repertoire. Bad had to play offensively for his team the majority of the time as he was one of the few that could, yet the boogeyman effect holds onto him and warps even his own members perceptions after the fact. Q!Tina as an example very enthusiastic about letting Bad loose in p1 too then scolding him for actions he took under her instruction.

The fan narrative has been the most acutely difficult to manage as the effect is almost to mystic proportions and finding disdain for even mundane actions Bad takes and reading into those as disingenuously as possible always set on more then retribution but truly an end to his character. Which again having watched Bads POV I havent been able to discern anything remarkable that any other character hasnt also partook in.

The difference I have noted is that Bad will always consider himself in the wrong regardless if his actions had justifiable reason behind it. Dapper told Bad to win in purgatory. After purgatory Bad put himself and Dapper down as ‘oh thats just something Dapper would say hes just bloodthirsty, but narratively Dapper has committed self harm in order to protect his siblings and other islanders ((an issue Dapper unfortunately sees in his father and perpetuates himself)) believing he is nothing more then a tool to help those he loves, he would not risk his siblings lives for bloodthirsty humor. Bad knows this but when faced with the hate others saw in him he waves off both his and his sons merit buckling down. Bad and Dapper have dark humor but are always making gifts and finding ways to help others. There is nothing on the island Bad is more set to protect then the eggs and this thought with Dappers message, Q!Bad really thought he needed to go all out to protect them, even still he held back a lot and would 2nd guess because he wanted to be absolutely certain of the egg’s safety.

He wasnt without reason yet with the boogeyman effect looming over his reasons never seem to be able to hold a candle to the more popular characters, and he often concedes a lot to it. He says it with a laugh, tease, and is sassy with it but still he concedes to others perceptions of him as he doesnt want to override others feelings. It can be a bit exhausting as things are blown out of proportion to what they were in originality but on a social breakdown of how things and information travels its very very interesting and I have been enjoying the dive even if it stings sometimes with reflective thoughts.