#while things like vision issues and light sensitivity are completely ignored

[bunnyinatree]

Can someone who is well-versed in Witcher lore confirm or deny whether Geralt has albinism? He is listed on the wiki page for characters with albinsim, but seeing as every character with albinism that I know of isnt included, I dont trust the list very much…

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Babysitter (2)

Cookies And Cuteness

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 2- W/c 3.2k

Cookies And Cuteness Ringing the bell, you waited patiently outside the Maximoff's residence for Mr Jarvis, or Vision as Wanda had told you to call him despite what he says, to answer the door and let you in from the slight chill from the wind. After a minute or so, the blonde man appeared, dressed in another suit and ready to leave.

"The boys are inside," is all he says before brushing past you, walking towards his car and climbing in without looking back at you. You ignore his lack of greeting and make your way inside to see the twins sitting at the table, grumpily slouched over their work that's on the table.

"What did the paper ever do to you, Tommy?" you tease, noticing the scowl he was giving the sheets in front of him.

"Y/n!" Both boys cheer, jumping out of their chairs and sprinting over to you at the door frame, their small bodies colliding with your legs as they hug you. "Can we go to Mars now?" Tommy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, his brother mirroring the look making your composure almost falter. "Please?" he tries again, your heart struggling to deal with the way they were looking at you with such hopeful expressions.

"Once you finish your work," you manage to say the right thing instead of giving into them and doing as they wish. You hear a noise of complaint from Tommy and merely give him a semi-stern look to make him not argue back. You sit with them as they finish off the last few questions, Billy finishing before his brother and trying to patiently wait, his body practically buzzing with excitement.

Tommy soon completes the last question, both of their heads snapping over to you with grins on their faces. A chuckle leaves your lips at the anticipation on their faces and wonder how a game could get two boys so easily excited. The sound of your chair moving backwards has them leaping out of their seats and into the living room, you following swiftly behind.

"Pshhht, this is your captain speaking again," your hand makes the same shape as it did on Friday, a fist that was supposedly supposed to be a radio thing to talk into. "Are you ready for the Mission to Mars?"

"Yeah!" they both exclaim, standing on either side of you.

"Taking off in 5..." you let them take over the countdown once again, watching how their faces light up.

"4...3...2...1!" This time you wrap an arm around both twins, lifting them up and spinning in a circle to make them squeal with excitement and joy. You walk around the sofa with them in your arms and gently drop them onto it, their bodies bouncing on the cushions while cute giggles spill from their lips.

"Oh no," your voice feigns worry, "There's a tickle monster on Mars!" you chase the boys who scream as they rush off the sofa, running around trying to escape you. You pull Tommy back gently, trapping him with one arm while the other tickles him relentlessly. Laughter tumbles from him as his body squirms in your hold, you eventually letting him go by dropping him on the sofa again with a teasing smile. Your attention turns to Billy, whose face momentarily pales, and walk towards him, face softening. "The only way to stop the tickle monster is to hug them," you whisper, him crashing into your body to stop you from tickling him. Cuteness overloads you as he clings onto you, hugging your leg and looking up at you with a grateful smile. "Ahhhh," you fall back onto the sofa, Tommy watching next to you as Billy falls with you, "You defeated the Tickle Monster!"

The two of them start to laugh as you dramatically act dead, them poking you making you laugh as well, poking them back until you hear the sound of a belly rumble.

"Seems like defeating the Tickle monster made you hungry," you tease Billy, who shyly smiles, his brother grinning at him.

"Can we make cookies, Y/n?" Tommy questions, Billy's eyes lighting up at the idea of food, especially cookies.

"Do either of you know how to make cookies?" you sit upright, back cracking slightly as you move from the awkward position the tickle monster died in. They shake their head at you with sheepish smiles, you trying hard to remember how your father used to make them with you. "I guess we're doing it the Y/l/n style way then," standing from the chair, you make your way into the kitchen, a small 'wow' leaving your lips as you properly take in the grand room.

With the gaze of two intrigued boys on you, you search the cupboards for the ingredients you would need before placing them on the kitchen island and finding the equipment you would need.

"Have you ever helped your mom make cookies?" you ask, turning your attention from the flour bag to the twins.

"We help..." Tommy says, Billy hiding his smile behind his hands as his brother tells a half truth.

"Oh really?" they both nod their head, "What do you help with?"

"We taste the chocolate chips and make sure they're ok to put in the cookies," Billy says, his brows furrowing when he can't see any with the other ingredients you've put out. "Where's the chocolate chips?"

"I hate to break it to you but there aren't any in these cookies," their faces drop at the news but you're quick to fix it, "But you get to decorate these cookies with icing, and we can cut them into shapes." Excitement reignites in their faces, and you chuckle at how cute they are.

"So, the first thing we need to do is preheat the oven and get the trays ready," you turn the oven on to 180 degrees and grab trays to grease and line with cookie sheets, the boys focussing as they watch you prepare the basics. "Now we measure out the ingredients," you help the boys measure out the ingredients on the scales until you have 225g of unsalted butter and caster sugar in separate bowls, along with 330g of plain flour in another.

Laughter echoes around the room as flour manages to get everywhere, Tommy ripping open the bag a little too enthusiastically resulting in you being covered in flour. Neither twin tells you about the massive streak of white powder on your face, deciding it would be funny to subtly giggle when you would look at them.

"Good job," you say when they manage to get everything done, "Ok, so now we need to beat the butter and the sugar together till it's light and fluffy. Then we'll add a splodge of vanilla extract and the egg."

"How much is a splodge?" Billy asks, turning to you when it's time to add the vanilla in.

"Uhh," you say, a little embarrassed as you're not sure how to describe it. "About a teaspoon?" he looks at you blankly as he has no idea how much that is. "I'll tell you when to stop," he starts to pour it in and when you consider it enough you stop him, Tommy then adding the egg while the food mixer beats it all together. "The next step is to put all the dry ingredients together," you watch closely as Tommy holds the bowl of flour still while Billy adds two teaspoons of baking powder with your help. "Now this is the important part," you say, them looking at you with concentrated looks, "We add the flour bowl into the wet bowl, but we have to do it slowly and not put it all in at once." Carefully, you get both of them to add in the flour and baking powder, the mixture becoming a dough.

"Why are you doing that?" Tommy curiously asks as you sprinkle a little flour onto a spare baking sheet.

"Putting flour down helps stop the dough sticking to the sheet when we roll it," you explain, him nodding in understanding, "We also do this to help with that issue," your hand sprinkles a little more onto the rolling pin before handing it towards them. "Who wants to roll the dough?" Tommy decides he'll roll it with your help while Billy searches for cookie cutters.

Within a few minutes, you have all the dough cut into various shapes, some simple circles while others are in heart or star shapes, one being a weird blob as it was the excess dough that wasn't enough to fill a cutter.

"While they're in the oven, how about you two draw some designs of how you want to decorate the cookies?" Their eyes widen in excitement, especially Billy, before they rush off to grab pencil crayons and paper. You watch with a smile on your face, remembering the many times you did this with your father. While you clean up all the dishes you've used, washing and drying them in record speed and moving to grab what you need for the icing, the memory of icing sugar getting everywhere when you made it with your dad invades your thoughts, his beard covered in a white dust while he would chase you, trying to hug you and get you covered in the powder.

Around ten minutes later, the oven beeps and you take the trays out, moving them to a cooling rack and ushering the twins back to the table to continue drawing after they leaped from their seats at the timer going off. You make piping bags out of plastic wallets, hoping Wanda wouldn't mind the fact you just cut the tips off two bags for the boys to use, and fill them halfway with the icing you made.

"Ok, so you each get a few cookies to decorate," you give them each an equal amount and watch as they start to try and copy a few designs. Billy adds a few sprinkles to his in an artistic way, your lips tugging up into a smile at how happy he looks while Tommy tries to add as many as he could to get a sugar rush, you having to give him a 'sprinkle ban'. Eventually, you end up with an array of...artistic cookies? Creative cookies? You weren't sure how to describe them, all you knew was that they looked good considering the age of the twins. When you looked over them once again, your eye caught a certain cookie that Billy had made.

"This is amazing Billy," the cookie was cut into a heart shape with the white icing spread almost evenly all the way across it, sprinkles spelling out 'Mom' while also lining the edge of the cookie. His face lit up at your praise, Tommy also looking at the cookie in awe of his brother.

"Thank you, Y/n," his voice quiet as he looks up at you, "I made it for mom, I hope she likes it."

"She'll absolutely love it Billy," your hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing gently before he moves to put it on a plate. The boys place all the cookies on a large plate, you clean up the mess while they wash their hands and try a cookie each. You hear them talking about how good they are, trying to ask for another but you put your foot down and say they have to wait for their mother. "No more," you repeat when they try and give you puppy dog eyes once again, "Go and watch TV mini Maximoffs." Billy's and Tommy's eyes widen at the nickname you've given them, smiling breaking out on their faces implying they love it.

You wash the remaining bowls that were used, the sound of keys in the door catching your attention. You hear the boys call out to Wanda, excitedly telling her to follow them to the kitchen. After drying the last bowl, you turn around to face Wanda, who is now being shown all the cookies, her face softening at the one specially made for her. When her gaze meets you, an adorable laugh escapes her, a nervous smile breaking out on your face as she chuckles at you, shaking her head slightly.

"Oh sweetheart," she sighs out softly, a smile gracing her lips as she walks up to you. Frozen on the spot, you watch as she stops just in front of you, the scent of her perfume invading your senses making your body buzz at how close she was. Her fingers delicately hold your chin, tilting your head up to look at her more clearly while her other hand grabs a cloth from the countertop. Your eyes take in her features as you're so close, gaze lingering on her plump lips a little too long before snapping back to her enchanting green eyes when you feel her press the cloth against your forehead, wiping the flour streak off your face. "There you go," she murmurs almost lovingly, her fingers brushing over your cheeks for a second before returning to her side.

"Thank you," you manage out, face red at the interaction. Wanda simply smiles at you before turning back to her sons, asking them about their day while biting into the cookie Billy made for her, a sound of enjoyment escaping her which implants itself in your mind.

"These are delicious Y/n," her praise makes you smile, a warm feeling bubbling in your chest at the way she smiles at you, nose scrunching a little. "And they are decorated so nicely," she grins at her boys, bringing them in for side hugs and holding tightly to make them laugh.

"We have one more cookie to show," Tommy says, wriggling his way out of his mother's arms and finding a specific cookie hidden away. "This is for you Y/n," he presents to you the blob shaped cookie, now decorated in an abundance of sprinkles and icing making you feel fuzzy inside.

"Oh, Tommy," you say sincerely, "Thank you so much." He hands you the cookie in a tissue, you wrap it up in another so you can take it home while the boys persuade their mom to let them have another one to eat. They run off into the living room, munching away, while Wanda leans against the countertop next to you, arms wrapping around her middle as she tilts her head slightly while smiling tenderly.

"You didn't have to clean up, you know?" her fingers twirl her wedding ring around while she speaks to you, the action reminding you of the fact she's a married woman and you shouldn't be enjoying her company as much as you were.

"I couldn't just leave them for you to do, you've been working, and I made the mess," your tone is confused as she shakes her head, smiling still gracing her features though.

"Your parents must really love you helping around the house," she teases, your mood dampening at the mention of you parents, a fake smile covering up the change in spirit.

"Yeah, they must do," your voice goes quieter at the end, Wanda not noticing though because the boys start to disagree on something in the other room. Both of you go to investigate, finding them bickering about which cartoon to watch.

"Boys," Wanda says, her tone switching to a stern mother as she places her hands on her hips and looks at them. They stop but scowl at each other a little, you chuckle at how they switched from playing with one another to being mad.

"Hey mini Maximoffs," you interrupt, Wanda's brows raising at the nickname, face softening from her serious state, "Don't start arguing with each other and being bad for your mom." They look down a little guilty, Wanda mouthing a 'thank you' before she tells the boys to find something they both like.

"I'm going to head off now," you say once everything is settled, Wanda walking you to the door and paying you a more reasonable amount than last time.

"Thank you for taking care of them," her body leans against the door as you step outside, body angled to look at her."

"It was no problem, Wanda, enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too, get home safely," the door moves to close when you start to walk away, Wanda staring at your figure for a moment longer before fully closing the door.

***

Keys rattle in the door as you finally get home, shrugging your backpack off and carefully taking your cookie out your coat pocket and laying it on the table. You wander through your apartment, the only sound coming from the Tv in the living room makes you head there first.

"Hey mum..." you let the words die in your throat when you see your mother, her body slouched on the sofa, wine bottles scattered on the floor as her hand falls limp at her side. You let out a tired sigh, walking over to her slowly, picking up the empty wine glass and bottles to take them to the kitchen before going back to where she laid passed out. "Come on mum, wake up," you gently shake her, her sluggishly waking up a little.

"Go away," she slurs, trying to hit you away but failing miserably as she can barely keep her arm up.

"No come on, we need to get you in bed," you don't bother hiding the annoyance or disappointment in your voice, tired of how much she'd drink. It wasn't even eight o'clock on a Monday and she was wasted.

"Just fuck off," her words mumbled, you let out a defeated breath and making your way out of the room. You grab her a blanket and return to cover her with it, guiding her head from its awkward position and letting her sleep on the sofa.

"Love you too," you mutter in distaste, ignoring the groan coming from her and making your way to your own room. You crouch down, hands sliding under your bed looking for a box before pulling it out. Carefully, you open the lid, revealing the money Wanda gave you last week and now today as you put it in, smiling at the little progress.

With the money your dad left you and the money you were now saving, it wouldn't take long for you to have enough to rent out your own place and finally leave this home once you turned eighteen. You loved your mother like any child should, you did, but you couldn't help the way you started to hate her, despise her for the things she'd do or say to you. When you were younger you two were much closer, not as close as you and your father, but you still loved each other deeply until the incident happened and everything changed.

Before you could drown yourself in the hurtful thoughts, you pushed your body back to its feet, grabbing the cookie and taking it to your room to eat while finishing off the rest of your schoolwork. You thought back to today with the twins, a subconscious smile taking over your face when your thoughts drifted back to a certain older woman; the way her green eyes would gaze at you caringly, the soft and delicate touch of her fingers on your face, the angelic laughter that spilt from her lips.

You couldn't get her off your mind, and if you were being honest, you didn't want to.

---

I totally didn't just take the cookie recipe from BBC food guides...

I'm not allowed in the kitchen, ok? I'll end up burning the house down.

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments, they're really appreciated <3

[enneamage]

Wilbur - 3w4

Wilbur just really wants to be a Good Three

While it’s true that Wilbur has trouble staying on task, has had periods of almost complete inertia and a bit of the old over-promise and under-deliver, the kind of person that he consistently aspires to be (and beats himself up when he isn’t) is a reasonably functional Three. You can see him light up and get excited at the thought of being charismatic, persuasive, talented, and a hard worker. He will literally list these traits unprompted sometimes. It very much seems like who he wants to be, and what he imagines his best self as.

Wilbur also has a nose for artists who share his type. Bo Burnham? 3w4. Fella from crywank? 3w4 with a similar stripe of mental health issues that Wilbur has. Filthy Frank? Take a guess. He’s regularly drawn to Threes with a heavy four wing that gave them a similar caustic bite to his own, something that he seemed to take as part of himself and model himself after in ways. He was the first guy to make me wonder if it was a red flag if all of someone’s favorite artists are all their own type :P.

On being ‘effective’

Threes are known for wanting esteem, praise, and to be seen as successes. The thing about this view is that it confuses wanting fire for wanting smoke, as what most Threes are oriented towards as their main motivation is effectiveness.

Threes need to be able to feel that they’re not helpless; that they make an impact on others when they’re seen and heard (not ignored), that they’re good at what they do (not incapable), that they’re unique to others and the world (not disposable), and that they can compete (won’t be subverted or defeated.) They can’t ‘just relax’ about this because it’s essential to how they function, and if they’re in a situation where all of these things fall out at once they’ll feel a traumatising amount of shame. Usually Threes need to work towards developing a healthy, realistic amount of trust in themselves and their environment to feel safe enough to take the edge off, but they keep their goalsetting -> achievement feedback loop even when they’re healthy. 

How do you know if you’ve moved the world, let alone done it correctly? How do you measure a success, even if it’s the smallest thing you can imagine? Threes calibrate themselves against praise as validation that they’re capable people, and they’re wired to get a massive hit of feel-good energy when they do. Wilbur fuckin loves praise, but he specifies that he wants people to be critical of his output—he wants to be sure that he’s actually doing a good job.

Wilbur’s version of this has crossed into unhealthy territory, possibly due to developing some Narcissistic personality adaptations. He tends to feel like he’s not effective enough if he feels even a small bit of other people’s influence in a situation that he isn’t leading or designing. His shame reflex is incredibly sensitive, and he’s terrified of being underwhelming. This can cause him to panic and overcompensate, which can manifest as putting on arrogance, making up an alternative reality in his head where he’s cartoonishly superior, or trying to cut other people down.

A last resort of his is the ‘paradox of giving up,’ of darkly embracing a vision of himself as completely disempowered if he feels backed into a corner. This is where he weaponizes his moodiness in a last-ditch attempt to try and be effective; he will try to strongarm people into feeling bad, giving in to him, comforting him or leaving him alone. He would literally threaten to cry, I remember it clear as day. While the emotions are real, they’re still being wielded like an improvised weapon in some cases, a final grab at control.

The Four wing

In theory, an ‘undiluted core Three’ is a social chameleon that would be compelled to try and appeal to anyone and excel in any situation. However, in the case of a 3w4, the four wing moves Wilbur towards distinction and authenticity. Threes with a four wing aim to be effective in specific systems and subcultures, modeling themselves after more niche people that they consider to be ‘successful’ according to what they’ve chosen to value.  

They’re a bit more introverted than 3w2’s and like to focus more on work and external achievements than their image (but they absolutely like both.) The four wing makes them more okay with being off beat and strange, with some of them even finding it funny—Wilbur definitely has this trait. Even though it stings, they’re actually more okay with being disliked under the right circumstances because they get a bit more value from working on projects than themselves being the project.

The four wing gives him an inner critic that’s both assessing his output and how authentic it is. Wilbur can put on personas, but he can’t keep them on for as long as a 3w2 can without slipping up or getting noticeably uncomfortable, so he’s mostly stuck telling versions of the truth at the end of the day. Wilbur can lie like a true con artist, don’t get me wrong, but he’s also prone to compulsively confessing information later.

There’s an entire subgenre of music I like to call Threes be telling on themselves, where artists who are clearly Threes write songs in the most rappers be telling on themselves way possible. While this self-awareness seems impressive at a glance, it doesn’t always actually pair with a commitment to change, and instead may function like a dissociated running commentary or a self-deprecating stab done in public to feel they’ve gotten attention for ‘who they really are.’

Natures Talent Scout

Wilbur has an eye for other people’s talents, skills, and behaviors. At his best, he’s capable of hyping up other people and giving them praise and detailed feedback about what makes them great. At his worst, he gets bitterly jealous and feels inadequate when comparing himself to others. When he’s walking down the middle, he leans towards taking a managerial role with people, advising on how they can perform ‘better’ (often according to his standards.) He won’t admit it because he’s fiercely individualistic, but Wilbur has a way of merging with other people when he's in a feedback loop with them, taking them as part of himself as markers in his internal map of the world.

Threes are area-of-effect people, and some of them keep friend groups that can experience and participate in the Three’s vision of reality. It's actually a very Three thing to gather and organise talent to work together for a goal, seeing the potential in people and imagining a way for them to maximise their effectiveness according to a vision. Soothouse started as a friend group, but it takes some nerve to gather people and go “guess what we’re doing, and I’m going to be the one organising it.”

Wilbur drafted Techno and Phil to be his play-family, solidifying his ties to them using a kidding-but-not-kidding fantasy. This isn’t to say that they aren’t really friends, his positive feelings and admiration for them are very legitimate, but it was an emotionally strategic reflex on his part to tie them to him in this way. Wilbur later took on the job of mentoring Tommy (which Tommy offered gladly) and in interviews will be very proud when he explains that he was the one who saw the talent in Tommy that would eventually put the world in a headlock. It’s worth noting that Tommy was the first brother-truther before he was adopted into the SBI, so how the tables turn.

Because this is critblr and we’re allowed to mention that C!Wilbur counts as Wilbur information, I would point to L’Manburg Wilbur as him living out a pattern that he knows he’s capable of. He attempted to establish a country where he had absolute esteem and influence, but the position didn’t feel right and his fear of being ineffective kicked up, causing him to try and cheat to create a different atmosphere. This backfires, he spirals into thinking he’s the worst person ever (which is in itself a grandiose claim, the worst person in the world is actually a very ‘effective’ and irreplaceable figure if you think about it) and he makes a final power grab in a massive act of public violence, self-destructing as proof that he can do something.

(Remember, it’s only leadership if you’re willing to work in service to the people that you’re organising, otherwise it’s just sparkling dependency.)

Pull and Push

Chasing the love and admiration of people is one thing, while being influenced by steady human attachment is another. Wilbur’s conflict between wanting to be effective socially while also not wanting to be ‘subverted’ can really mess with his social life, love and otherwise. This is the root of his ‘love of the chase,’ and why he can shove people away once he’s reached a place of security with them. When he’s expected to behave like a friend / boyfriend / coworker, although one part of him wants to maintain attachments and have a stable healthy social life, another part of him can hate feeling controlled or obligated. Sometimes he’ll push someone away and then try and win them back again, which makes for a really confusing hot-and-cold experience.

I once came across a Three (who wasn’t too healthy) who said that they didn’t like being known for an extended period of time, but loved making first impressions and meeting new people. This was layered- they normally have a lot more control and ability to tailor their first impression of another person to what they think the other person wants, and it’s gratifying to get confirmation that they can be charming or persuasive to other people. Thing is, extended exposure tends to bring out their actual personality, which tended to be a lot different from what they had put out at first.

Pure Imagination

Wilbur’s attachment to “Privately Owned Spiral Galaxy” kind of speaks for itself, but fantasy and the ability to imagine alternate futures and realities play a big part in Three life. Wilbur exercises his talent for social shapeshifting and finding ‘effectiveness’ in roleplay, but it’s worth noting that he really does find it fun, on top of all the weirdness. The thing is, Wilbur takes his mind for fantasy and finding potential in ideal futures everywhere, even in real life. Usually it comes in handy since content creation is in the weird gap between fantasy and reality, and he can give situations a good beginning-middle-ending structure. However, when he’s just trying to live day-to-day, he can get lost in what he sees as potentials and what ‘should’ be rather than what is.

Wilbur can be eager to escape into an idealised world that he has created in his mind, while casting the people around him in certain roles. This doesn’t have to be unhealthy, but it crosses a line when he over-writes or strongarms other people into playing the role that he wants them to, sometimes backhandedly punishing people when they don’t. For example, Wilbur used to take his perfectionism out on Tommy, snapping at him for not being his perfect comedic prodigy. (There was probably some jealousy there as well.)

Silver Tongue

One of the easiest, simplest ways to ‘make realities’ and bring people into them is to talk to someone. Wilbur really wants the ability to be persuasive and charming, which he can definitely be at times. While he doesn’t seem to admire any one particular politician, he does find the idea of politicians compelling both for their power and their ability to use words to affect entire countries. Big public speaker energy.

You really need to watch what he does over what he says, because when he’s ‘on’, his go-to is his language. Wilbur’s vice is the empty promise of good ideas, which he may actually ‘believe in’ at the time, with an allergy to feeling like he has to follow through with them. In theory he might be able to get past this one day, but it will ultimately be up to his willingness to put in the work to change.

[lavenderfluorite14]

Such Sweet Delirium

Reiji Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Laito Intrudes on an experiment gone wrong. Reiji loses his cool.

Explicit, 18+ |TW: Dubious Consent/Non-Con, Drugged Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Blood Sucking, Ownership Kink, Female Reader, Breast Worship, Hickeys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Possessive Reiji, Light Edging, Canon Typical Reiji Cruelty, I couldn’t just write porn I had to write a character study too lol, Slight Laito x Reader, Tagging non-con for the consent issues surrounding drugged sex, Reader is conscious and responsive but very high

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Please be mindful of the tags! This is the most explicit thing that I have ever written lmaoooo 🥂

Read it on AO3!

Reiji’s lab spun in a nauseating carousel of color. The last thing you remembered was drinking a beautiful, shimmering liquid that Reiji said he had brewed himself. It fizzed all the way down your throat, an insistent warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. Now sprawled across his sofa, you surrendered to dizzying oblivion. Somewhere above you, Reiji scribbled furiously in a black notebook, tutting irritably.

“Tell me what you are feeling. Be specific.” You swallowed thickly at the order, begging your tongue to move.

“The…...the room…..the room is-”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“S-spinning. The room….is spinning” you slurred.

“How fast?”

“Fast.”

“I said how fast?”

“I….I can’t….”

Reiji tsked angrily, snapping his notebook shut. Flinching, you tried to turn away from his sharp gaze but a cold hand pinned you flat against the couch. Your delayed reaction time was no match for his vampiric strength.

“I can feel your heart racing from here,” he said, curling over you, pinning your wrists above your head. “Had I known you were such weak prey I would have given you a smaller dose. It isn’t as fun when you can’t fight back.” You wriggled underneath him, jerking weakly against his cruel grip. Reiji laughed, amused at your feeble attempts to escape.

“Although, I don’t hate this delirious expression,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by his hungry stare. “I suppose this isn’t bad every once and a while.” His rich baritone rumbled in your ear, his proximity making you tremble.

“I didn’t think I’d interrupt this so soon,” interrupted a dark chuckle. Laito lounged against the doorframe of the lab, eyeing your entwined forms. “You must really like this one, Reiji,” he teased. Reiji’s iron grip tightened around your wrists and you whimpered pitifully. “It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking,” Reiji spat imperiously. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer!” Laito insisted, his eyes glinting with mirth. “But now I can see you were a bit distracted.” You lolled your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Laito’s smirk widened.

“Christ, what did you do to her?���

“Such language is atrocious. You shouldn’t speak that way.”

“You fucked up the dosage, didn’t you?” Reiji shot up quickly at the accusation, swiping his notebook from the couch as he crossed briskly back towards his desk. Laito’s smirk cracked into a grin.

“Do you need something, Laito?” Reiji asked coolly. As Reiji began tidying his work space, Laito sauntered over to the couch, his green gaze boring into you. Crouching down, he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. You shivered under his cold touch. “I came for the aphrodisiac you promised me,” Laito said, trailing his fingers down your neck. He stopped to trace the hollow of your throat, caressing it with his thumb. “But if you don’t have it, I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time inst-”

“Of course I have it,” Reiji scoffed. Plucking a vial of blue liquid from his stores, he crossed the room and offered it to Laito. “Now please take it and leave.” Reiji’s words hung in the air like frost. Laito rose languidly, like a cobra rearing back to strike, then swiped the vial from Reiji’s gloved hand.

“Maybe next time, Bitch-Chan,” Laito said, winking at you. “And Reiji,” Laito called, pivoting in the doorframe for one last jab. “I know it can be hard to control yourself, especially this close to a full moon, but try not to tear this one up like the last one, ok? You should save some for the rest of us.”

“Get out!” Reiji snarled, storming across the room. Laito darted off, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Reiji slammed the door behind him.

The ceiling swam before you in lethargic swirls of periwinkle. You had no idea what Laito meant, but you could feel Reiji fuming in the doorway. What was he talking about? Reiji never lost his cool. You couldn’t imagine him doing something like that. “You let him touch you,” Reiji seethed.

“Reiji, I...I didn’t….I didn't want-”

“Please be silent.Your behavior today has been dreadful.” Reiji prowled towards the couch, his long shadow casting a dark pall across your face. You closed your eyes, terrified to meet his furious eyes. “You couldn't do a thing?” He queried, towering above you. “You couldn’t cry out? Or swat him away?” His voice was ice.

“I…..I froze….”

“I suppose that’s to be expected from a woman like you,”

“I’m so-sorry,”

“How should I punish my little harlot?” Finally bending down towards you, Reiji cupped your face firmly with his gloved hand. “Your pupils are still so dilated. I doubt you’d feel my whip at all.” The thought made you shiver, and not completely out of fear. Reiji thumbed your lip idly as he thought.

“Suck….my blood?” He tsked at your suggestion.

“You ask for it so brazenly, sometimes I think you enjoy it. Hands up.” You heaved your arms up over your head as Reiji smoothly rolled your top up your body, tossing it aside once it was completely off.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve been too lax with you,” he mused, settling firmly on top of you. You were particularly aware of his pelvis, pressing insistently against the cradle of your thighs. He cupped your face, drawing you close. “I need to teach you exactly who you belong to,” he said, his gaze drifting down hungrily to the column of your neck. “I’ll remind you so thoroughly of your place that even a dumb whore like you will be able to remember who owns her,” he promised, sinking his teeth viciously into your throat.

Reiji’s first bite was hard and precise, the sharp pain briefly thrusting you into lucid panic. But soon you were left with the warm afterglow of pleasure in the wake of its pain. It never stopped hurting, not entirely, but his bites always left you with a fluttering warmth. Reiji’s mouth was on you. You couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Reiji began a fast, desperate rhythm that pulled blood from you quickly, sending you reeling. You whimpered as your world whirled impossibly faster. When darkness began to flicker at the edges of your vision Reiji pulled away, burying his face into your neck. “You bring out the worst in me,” he sighed. Mouthing along your throat, he continued downward towards your collarbone. You braced yourself for another bite, but recoiled sharply when Reiji placed a delicate kiss upon your chest.

“Look at me, jealous of that pervert.” He kissed your chest again, skimming his fingers across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “Arch your back.” Curving your spine upwards, your body brushed against Reiji’s lean frame. You trembled as his hands ghosted along your back, making their way towards the clasp of your bra. Reiji unhooked it with quick ease then tossed the lacy fabric away, greedily cupping your naked breasts. A thin, breathy gasp escaped from you as Reiji dipped between them, kissing your soft curves. You tangled your hands in his hair, humming your approval. In response he tweaked your nipple harshly, sending a jolt of pain through your cloud of pleasure. You yelped at the enticing contrast.

“Let me remind you of your place. You are nothing more than food to me,” he said, pinching your nipple again with a renewed vengeance. You drunkenly brought your hands back to push him away, but he easily pinned them back above your head. “You are meat. Your blood is the only worthwhile thing about you.” Reiji sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, drawing deep from you. Crying out, you tried to ignore the pleasure his bite ignited in you, trying to focus only on the pain.

“I can taste your arousal,” he groaned between mouthfuls. “Does your masochism know no bounds?” Reiji’s insults didn’t last as he dove back down again to litter your chest with angry bites. He’d kiss you, so tenderly it was almost painful, then pierce your sensitive skin with his sharp, pointed fangs. Once satisfied, he’d lick, suck and kiss the abused spot until an angry mark began to form. He left bruises everywhere in his wake, a garden of purple hickeys blossoming across your breasts.

The drug made it nearly impossible to meaningfully fight back but you didn’t really want to. Reiji’s words stung, but you so rarely had his attention like this. Was it because the full moon was close? You knew vampires had trouble controlling their urges when the moon was full. And Reiji so desperately wanted control: of his brothers, of you, of himself. Was this frenzied beast the real Reiji, or was his protesting, rigid persona the real him? Impossibly, you knew he had to be both. Both enraptured and repulsed by his own desires and completely unable to hide it. That was really why he was mad. Reiji’s wet tongue interrupted your musings as he lapped against your sore nipple, sending a shudder through your entire body. Unable to remove your wrists from his grasp, you retaliated by wrapping your legs around his hips, trapping him against you. Now it was Reiji’s turn to shudder, rutting himself against your core. He was hard.

“My, you really are out of it,” he murmured, grinding himself against you openly. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” You panted, trying to match his thrusts. Reiji released your wrists, propping himself up on his left arm. Delicately biting the fabric across the tip of his pointer finger, he slid his glove from his hand. Ripping it away, Reiji’s bare hand skimmed down your body and over your curves. Flipping up your skirt, his fingers slid between your thighs.

“For this,” he says, tracing your wetness through your panties. Your eyes fluttered shut. “Reiji,” you breathed, arching towards his fingers.

“Say my name,” Reiji ordered softly, dipping underneath the fabric and rewarding you with long, firm strokes. You called his name again and he moved up towards your clit, circling it once before quickly pulling away. You whined at the loss.

Reiji begins a vicious rhythm, rubbing your clit with firm circles, then backing off when your pleasure mounts. He only returns to your clit when you beg him to, crying out for him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you whine in frustration as a needy ache builds inside you. Reiji just smirks down at you, enjoying your torment. When tears start building in your eyes, he finally slides a slender finger into your heat. Beckoning upward along your inner wall, he firmly massages your g spot. Mindlessly, you grind down on his fingers, chasing your pleasure.

“Who makes you feel this good?” he asks, his ruby eyes alight with lust.

“You do,” you gasp.

“I asked you who,” he demanded, cruelly massaging your inner wall. You jerk at the pressure, almost cresting over the plateau.

“Reiji! Reiji Sakamaki!” you cry, desperate for release.

“Good girl,” he smirks, thumbing your clit. You gasp in delight, the rough, consistent circles of his fingers finally hurtling you towards your peak. “You don’t deserve this,” he growls in your ear, his deep velvety voice bewitching you. “But when I see you like this, I can’t stop myself. You’re mine.” Your orgasm hits you hard, squeezing Reiji’s fingers in hot contractions. Pleasure washes over you in a wave, your entire being gently pulsing. Reiji smugly guides you through your orgasm, only stopping his ministrations once your twitching has ceased. You sigh, melting back into the cushions of the couch. Above you, a belt buckle clinks.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Reiji says, gripping your thighs and yanking you forcefully back towards him. As he settles above you, he presses the tip of his member against your eager entrance. Pushing forward, Reiji sinks into you with ease. “My little harlot is so wet for me,” he teases, before setting a ruthless pace.

Reiji fucks you selfishly, chasing his own pleasure now that he’s satisfied yours. You lay back, still enjoying the lingering effects of his drug. His thrusts pull soft, pleasured moans from you as he plunges desperately into you. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sensations, happy to let him use you. Occasionally he’ll sheathe himself all the way inside of you and grind desperately against your cervix, trying to get as deep as he can.

“I can’t believe you like this. That you like me,” he pants softly, definitely to himself. Reiji lets you pull him down so that he is completely flush against your body. “I do. I like you, Reiji.” A groan rips from him and he stills, spilling himself inside of you.

You stay that way for a moment, holding each other tenderly in the afterglow of your love-making. You wish you could stay like this, enjoying the feeling of his body as it presses you into the cushions, gently stroking his back as both of your breathing returns to normal. But Reiji recovers faster than you do. “I’ll clean you up,” he offers, his tone clipped.

Reiji cleans you thoroughly with a warm wet towel, which feels strange but is not unenjoyable in your impaired state. It’s deeply intimate in a way that is definitely uncomfortable, but you think it’s his way of taking care of you. You close your eyes, pliant. His large hands drift over your body, tugging your top back over you and righting your skirt. Once he is finished you curl on your side, completely spent and ready to sleep. As you begin to drift off, you feel something warm and soft envelop you. A blanket? Maybe. Where did he get a blanket?

Reiji watches as you snuggle into the blanket he has recently taken to keeping in his desk, a genuine smile flickering across his stern features.

[boltwrites]

Misfits - Chapter 3

Fandom: Star Wars - Clone Wars / The Bad Batch Pairing: The Bad Batch / Reader (Polyamorous) Rating: M (Rating May Change) Tags: Polyamorous Relationship, Force-Sensitive Reader, Slow Burn

Work Summary: After a year working with the 501st, you've been assigned a new post - Clone Force 99, aka the Bad Batch. You're concerned about the transition - you found it hard enough to fit in with the 501st, and now you had to acclimate to an entirely new squad. As it turns out, the Bad Batch is very accommodating.

Chapter Summary: Hunter insists that you nap on the way to Kamino.

read it on ao3 | start from ch 1 | or read more below

“Get some sleep. It’ll be a while until we reach Kamino.”

Hunter gestured towards a bunk that you could tell was well used. You worried the inside of your lip, considering the offer.

This ship was a far cry from the accommodations you were used to. It reminded you more of quarters you once shared with a pirate crew – cramped, but cozy.

You didn’t mind it, per say… but it wasn’t what you were used to. On the Resolute, you had your own quarters, completely separate from the rest of the clones. It had been both a blessing and a curse – it afforded you some privacy, being the only female Captain, and working with a majority of clones who had never experienced such direct contact with a woman. It was honestly tiring dealing with their staring – which wasn’t even a majority sexual, honestly. They were just curious about you, and while you didn’t blame them, that didn’t mean you wanted eyes on you while you were just trying to get some rest.

The Bad Batch didn’t seem to be quite as bad as the 501st, and you suspected that perhaps because they were a smaller, elite squad, they had encountered women in different environments than just a club full of clone chasers like 79’s. You could feel Wrecker’s eyes on you half the time, and his curiosity reminded you the most of the 501st’s own sneaking glancing. You also caught Tech looking a few times as you set your meagre belongings in the cargo area – he had seemed flustered and turned away, datapad in hand. You had no idea what his fascination with you was, but you assumed you would find out soon enough. It was almost cute seeing how you flustered him, if only because your own men – or, former men – had grown so used to your presence that they had gotten harder to fluster.

But then, there was Hunter and Echo, who both reminded you of Rex. Rex hadn’t been bothered with your gender if only because he had worked so much with Ahsoka the years prior. You didn’t know who Hunter had worked with that made him so comfortable with you, nor Echo, but you were glad that at least your gender wasn’t causing any more awkward tension than it should. You felt strange enough barging into Hunter’s team, where you technically outranked him as a Captain, but knew about as much as a shiny when it came to this squad.

At least everyone was better than Crosshair, who avoided you like a bad smell. He obviously had some kind of a stick up his ass.

But that was besides the point – the real question was: did you trust these men enough to sleep out in the open like this? You didn’t think they would hurt you, or anything quite so dangerous, but you did value your privacy. And it seemed strange to sleep in their communal space while you still felt like an outsider. That was far too… intimate for your liking.

“I’m fine,” you tried to respond to Hunter’s offer with a polite smile and a nod. You didn’t want your refusal to read as rude – you just didn’t want to open yourself up to something so intimate as sleeping in another clone’s bed, even if it was simply a matter of convenience. You didn’t doubt that the clones crashed in whichever bunk was available – the blankets on the bottom two looked more worn than the top, which alluded to the fact that they shared these.

You denied the offer, even though you were tired. You hadn’t slept since the Resolute had returned to Coruscant, and the fatigue was wearing on you. But you were a force sensitive. You could draw energy that way, you hoped. And maybe with an extra cup of caf from the small galley on the ship.

Hunter frowned at you. It wasn’t that he was outright offended by your refusal – he looked exasperated instead.

“I know you’re tired. Rest. We don’t have private rooms like on the star cruisers you’re used to, but it’s safe.”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “No, I- I didn’t mean-“

“I know. I know we don’t have much,” Hunter shrugged, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “But it’s what we’ve got. Took Echo some time to get used to. I don’t blame you.”

You sighed, remembering Echo. Hunter’s looking at you and seeing Echo – another 501st member adjusting to a new place. And, he’s right, to an extent. Maybe you’re overthinking things. The Bad Batch has been nothing but kind to you so far.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “You’re right. It’s different from the 501st. Over there, I had a private Captain’s room. And here-“

“You’re right in it,” Hunter finished. You nodded, sighing. Hunter nodded at you, understanding, before he continued.

“Ain’t no use in separation here. Each member here was selected for a purpose, and each is an expert in that field. I’m a superior in name only – I’m more like a coordinator, if I’m completely honest,” Hunter admitted, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, you guys operate more like pirates or something than an actual military unit?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow and a little quirk of a smile. Hunter shrugged, making a little noncommittal noise.

“I’ve never worked with pirates, but maybe.”

You laughed, relaxing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, taking a nap in the open. After all, you were going to be working with these men for the foreseeable future. You had to learn to trust them, and if there were any issues with boundaries, you would work it out. It would be fine, especially if the crew operated the way Hunter said they did – you understood that structure far more than you did military hierarchies of command.

“Thank you, Hunter,” you patted his shoulder gently, well aware of the armor that covered it. “If you don’t mind, I think I will take that nap. Maybe up there, though.”

You gestured to one of the top bunks, and Hunter even cracked a smile himself.

“High ground. Good choice.”

You shared a smile, shaking your head at him as he clapped you on the back and made his exit towards the cockpit.

His touch left you warm, even thought it was friendly, the sort of thing the clones took part in all the time. You kind of hated the way your cheeks flushed as you hopped on the bunk, untying your boots and kicking them to the floor, discarding your jacket and what little armor you had (shoulder plates and forearm guards, really) at the end of the bunk.

Not only was the Bad Batch different from the other clones in terms of their operation style – casual, bound by trust rather than duty – they were also different from other clones in certain physical aspects. Hunter’s hair, in particular, caught your eye far more often than it should in a professional sense, even as you tried to ignore it. And that little smile he just gave you –

No. No, you couldn’t do this. You had to work with Hunter, and if something happened between the two of you, you couldn’t count on the fact that you both would be able to remain professional.

You wrapped the blankets around you in a little cocoon as you tried to talk yourself down from all of this. It had been easier with the 501st. Those degrees of separation prevented you from forming those attachments. But here – this wasn’t a military structure. This was a team, a crew. You couldn’t get away from these men – for kark’s sake, they all shared these bunks.

The bunks, including the one you were occupying. They were homey – the blankets wrapped around you were plentiful. A couple were standard issue – you recognized the distinctive Republic insignia emblazoned on them. But some were clearly handmade. There were scraps of fabric entwined, one around another, weaving together to make a sturdy blanket. Another looked to be a quilt, hardy and thick, made to withstand the chill of space travel.

You were enveloped in them, completely cocooned, and you were already starting to warm up again despite the absence of your jacket. You tried to turn your brain off, for just a moment, and relax into the softness of the blankets, into the homey little bunk. The Bad Batch had obviously taken care to make their beds cozy and warm, and you appreciated it – it spoke to how they valued their space, their comfort. It was nice.

You started to drift off, and you couldn’t help but notice that even the blankets smelled nice. Not from a fresh wash, necessarily – no, it smelled more like it was pleasantly lived in. But didn’t it seem like the bottom bunks were the most used by the Batch?

Maybe this was Hunter’s bunk, you considered with a little smile, curling in on yourself. Hadn’t he mentioned the high ground? You imagined that a veteran officer like Hunter might care about things like that – about being able to get a jump on anyone trying to disturb his sleep. He would feel safer up here, like you did. The way this bunk was angled, there was a good view of the outside hatch, so Hunter would be able to see anyone trying to enter the ship.

Maybe it smelled like him, then. You could imagine him wrapped in these blankets too, maybe ones that thankful civilians gave him for his help.

You had told yourself you didn’t want to get attached, but as you drifted off into a light slumber, you couldn’t stop the visions that danced behind your eyes – Hunter in the bunk with you, his broad chest pressed to your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. If he snuggled too close to your shoulder, his hair would tickle your jaw. Maybe he would tell you the stories of the blankets wrapped around the both of you – his fingers tracing over yours as you thumbed over the handmade details, as his low voice hummed in your ear.

You drifted to sleep thinking of him, the thrum of his voice, rough hands against yours. And if those thoughts spilled over into your dreams – that was only for you to know.

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[hale-13]

Detached

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 25 Prompt - Isolation

Truth is, Peter didn’t do the best alone. He was an extrovert at heart and probably had some repressed abandonment issues he’d rather not think about right now but this was fine. He was fine.

Words: 3213, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Tony Stark

TW: Depression, Delirium, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Descent into Madness

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter groaned, squinting his eyes shut further instead of trying to open them. His head was throbbing and his thoughts were sluggish and dizzy. He could tell he was lying down but everything seemed to be spinning around him making him feel nauseous – he swallowed down the bile attempting to rise in his throat and took deep breaths through his nose. Mind over matter and all that. Once he felt a little more steady, Peter took stock.

The floor he was lying on was hard and cold and he was positioned awkwardly with his arms folded under him, tingles running through them painfully from the compression of veins and arteries. Carefully, Peter cracked his eyes open. The room he was in was dark and the air had the damp quality of somewhere underground and Peter blinked his eyes shut again. Yeah he had no idea where he was or how he got here.

With effort, he rolled over to lie flat on his back but made no attempt to try and sit up yet. The last thing he remembered was getting up for school. It was Friday and he was looking forward to going to Ned’s after school and spending the weekend having movie marathons and building the newest Star Wars Lego kit Ned had picked up with his birthday money. He remembered getting ready to leave, pulling his Spider-Man suit from his bag and hiding it in his closet (he had promised to take a break since he had been overdoing just a little over the last few weeks), he thumbed past a text from Mr. Stark – he didn’t want to read anything from him right now, fighting stressed him out and he didn’t want to deal with it…

He left his apartment. He was going to walk to school instead of taking the subway because it was hot out and he was feeling a little sensitive today and he wasn’t sure he could handle the smell. His Spidey sense had been tingling since he had gotten up that morning but it had been doing that off and on for days since his fight with…

He was walking to school. Everything was fine.

But now he’s here? How did it happen? Peter’s head throbbed lowly and threateningly as he tried to wrack his memory for the answer so he stopped and tried to make himself relax. He was probably kidnapped right? He had been kidnapped a couple times before and he knew how this worked. Once his assailants realized he was awake and semi-aware they would come in to highlight their terms, probably rough him up a bit and then Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes would track him down and break him out.

But… would Mr. Stark really come to get him now? After everything.

‘Don’t think about that Peter,’ he told himself. He was already about five seconds from a panic attack and that just wouldn’t do. He needed to keep it together. If his captors thought he was breaking so early things could get so much worse. He was fine. Just some deep breaths.

Peter opened his eyes again. The room was almost too dark to see anything, lit only by a small red emergency light in one corner that left strange shadows and distorted shapes and colors. The room was small – maybe ten feet by ten feet if he was lucky – and mostly empty. There were three large cases with water bottles and a few boxes of crackers in one corner and a metal toilet was in the other. A haphazard pile of ratty looking blankets that smelled like mildew were a few feet away from Peter.

This was new. He was almost never provided water or food in the few times he had been taken before, not that he was gone long enough to need anything.

Something felt off.

Using every bit of strength he had left, Peter levered himself up and leaned heavily against the wall while his vision span in circles and nausea crept back up his throat. Whatever he had been dosed with must have been pretty potent to leave him feeling like this. So plans. He would wait to see what the people who took him wanted. He would let his metabolism work off the drugs. Maybe he would crawl over and grab a bottle of water once he felt a little more steady and hope that they hadn’t been tampered with.

It was all a waiting game.

————————————————

Okay so this was weird.

Peter took another sip of his - up tampered thank god – water and swirled it around in his mouth. It had easily been at least a few hours since he had woken up and no one had come through the solid metal door that Perter had yet been able to break through. Someone always came in to monologue.

And it just proved that whoever took him knew he was Spider-Man since he wasn’t able to break out.

“This is fine,” Peter said out loud just to hear something. “They’re just working on a longer timeline is all.”

Truth is, Peter didn’t do the best alone. He was an extrovert at heart and probably had some repressed abandonment issues he’d rather not think about right now but this was fine. He was fine.

More time passed.

And more time.

Pulling one of the blankets around his shoulders and wedging himself into a corner Peter curled tightly around his legs. He was tired and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs or if it had been that long he had been trapped here. Regardless he figured he may as well take a nap. Hopefully it would encourage some asshole into bursting into the room to wake him up and, if it didn’t, maybe sleeping would help clear the remaining fog from Peter’s head.

His sleep was anything but easy though. He woke up continuously as if startled and it took forever to relax enough again to doze. He had nightmares; little nebulous things that made little sense and faded the second he woke up but left his respiratory rate elevated and his heart thudding in his chest. It took time but he eventually was tired enough to sleep deep enough not to dream.

When he woke up the room was completely unchanged and Peter gulped. His mind was spiraling and taking him to dark places and it wasn’t the time to go there yet. He hadn’t even been here for that long he didn’t think. Maybe not even a full day. It wasn’t time to freak out yet.

Peter distracts himself by grabbing another water bottle and a pack of the peanut butter crackers. He eats three of them and saves the rest of the pack for later. Washes it down with a few sips of water and tries to ignore the aching and cramping in his stomach as it growls. Something is telling him to ration his food and water. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be stuck here after all but it can’t be that much longer right? Mr. Stark will come to get him. He wouldn’t leave him here.

The ‘day’ passes slowly. Peter paces the full length of the room, he searches every nook and cranny for cameras or microphones. He tries to take apart the emergency light but its completely sealed and he doesn’t want to tamper with it and potentially leave himself in complete darkness. He counts his water bottles (one hundred forty-eight since he already drank two) and his crackers (forty-nine and a half packs) and organizes and reorganizes them. He paces some more and practices his breathing exercises.

He falls into an uneasy sleep.

“Okay time to come up with a plan,” Peter tells himself the next day. “A feasible plan.”

He comes up with nothing. He likes brainstorming but he’s always needed to write things down to properly organize anything and he has nothing to write with but blood and nothing to write on but the wall. He’s not desperate enough to do that.

Instead he does fifty push up and sit ups. It feels good to do something physical so he jogs around the room for what’s probably a few hours. He stops when he drains a full bottle of water in a second and he can’t do that. He doesn’t know how long he’s here and he has to ration and what if no one comes to get him and he’s stuck here forever and he runs out of food and water a human can only go without water for a few days and…

Peter gasps and collapses to his knees, bowing his face down to rest his forehead on the cool stone floor as the room spins from lack of oxygen and he tries to control his breathing. Four-Seven-Eight. He remembers that from his, very few, therapy appointments after Ben. Four-Seven-Eight. Four-Seven-Eight.

It’s not working.

Peter sobs brokenly and his throat feels like its closing, his vision is spinning and dimming his muscles are weak and-

He wakes up with a gasp and a cough some untold amount of time later. His head hurts from the panic attack and he lets himself cry quietly for a few minutes. He’s alone. He hates being alone.

How long has he been here?

The laugh that bubbles up from his chest is a little unhinged and that just won’t do. Peter needs to lock it down and get his shit together because he can’t just sit here and lose it because that is flat out unacceptable.

So he gets up and walks around the bare room. He does some yoga that he had been learning from Pepper and May and focuses on his breathing since breathing is important in yoga. When he’s done he does some cool down stretches and feels a lot better. More steady. He eats the other three crackers in the pack he opened up and drinks some water. He’s tired so he curls back up in the corner with his blanket and pillows his head on his arm.

He wakes up and the room is unchanged.

Again.

How long has he been here?

Peter’s stomach feels like its actually eating itself so he eats a couple crackers and indulges in half a bottle of water. It does nothing to make him more full but he pretends it does. He feels a little weak and out of it this ‘morning’ and he stumbles as he walks laps around the room. He hasn’t gone this long without a decent meal since he was bitten and its freaking him out a little.

The yoga worked yesterday. He’s going to do more of that he thinks.

His limbs are shakier than yesterday and he gets out of breath on some of the more advanced poses so he slows down and really takes the time to work through each new position and hold it before slowly transitioning to the next. He’s exhausted when he finishes and can barely do a short cool down due to his painful muscles so he just lies flat on his back for a while and breathes through it.

His head itches from the sweat he’s worked up and when he scratches at his scalp his fingernails come away with little balls of dead skin and blood under them and he crinkles his nose. He hasn’t gone this long without a proper shower in… a long time and he hates it. He wants to be clean. His hair is greasy and flat and flopping into his face.

He could use some of the water. He doesn’t have soap and its not the same as a shower but…

No. He needs to save the water. He can handle being dirty for a few more days. A week tops. He’ll be out of here soon. Maybe he should take a nap to pass the time? He is kinda sleepy from his workout, a nap would be nice.

When he wakes up again he doesn’t bother moving. He’s really tired and its not like he has anywhere to be so what’s the point?

He closes his eyes again.

He’s only eaten two full packs of crackers since he got here so Peter decides to gorge himself and eat a full pack of six and drink a full bottle of water. His throat is dry and his tongue is sticky and tacky in his mouth from dehydration so the food and water are like nectar and ambrosia to him. But…

He had more water right?

Peter counts the bottles and comes up two short. That’s impossible, he’s alone and he didn’t drink two extra bottles so where did they go? His breath is coming out in hasty pumps as he panics and counts again. No! He’s missing three bottles! How is this happening?

Peter stumbles up and goes to the door. Someone has to have come in while he was asleep and taken the water so that means the door was opened. He scrabbles at the edges, tearing his nails to shreds and smearing blood everywhere as he tears at the hinges to try to get it opened. It has to open!

His breath is coming too fast and his lungs are burning and his eyes are burning and he’s choking and falling to the floor and-

He wakes up curled in a ball by the door feeling out of it but more in control. He drags himself back to his pile of water bottles and, very carefully, counts them again.

And once more.

He isn’t missing any after all, he just didn’t count correctly. Peter wants to laugh. Peter wants to cry. He does neither. His muscles are tight and on the verge of cramping so he does some light stretches to try to work everything out. It helps a little but he feels too tired and out of it to do laps around the room or yoga and he’s afraid to meditate so he curls back up in the corner again. He’s hungry but he doesn’t dare eat anymore crackers since he had a full pack already today.

Or was it yesterday?

He decides it doesn’t matter – he can’t eat them right now. What he can do is sleep so he does.

His dream is about May. About sitting in the kitchen and listening to classic rock and pretending to do his homework but really gossiping about his classmates and her about her coworkers while she burns pork chops in the oven. They laugh while they fan the smoke away from the blaring fire alarm and out the open window and pull out a take out menu at random from the drawer. They aren’t picky eaters and they’re curled up on the couch watching Stranger Things with tacos. May jumps and launches her taco toward the ceiling and they spend the rest of the night cleaning avocado off the popcorn ceiling.

He wakes up with silent tears leaking down his face and a feeling of desolation eating up his insides. It feels like his heart is clenching and like his chest is closing in painfully and his stomach doesn’t ache from hunger for once but feels like a tightly clenched back hole instead. Peter doesn’t bother wiping his face, just turns over to face the wall and curls up even tighter. It’s too hard to move.

It’s a few days later that his legs start cramping whenever he moves them too suddenly and he feels like screaming from the resisting burning pain. He isn’t really hungry anymore but he forces down a couple of crackers everyday and tries to drink at least half a bottle of water. He’s losing weight as his metabolism eats at his minimal fat stores before starting on his muscles and he panics again when he notices his stomach is starting to become concave.

How long has he been here?

Peter supposes it makes sense though. Why would Mr. Stark come for him now? After what he did? His mentor may be the very definition of a helicopter parent but he wasn’t strict and if Peter would have just listened to him… but now he’s alone.

Peter sniffs loudly. He’s cried a few times since he’s been here but he hasn’t let himself break down. He’s tried to keep it together but is it really worth it? He’s alone. No one’s coming for him.

He’s going to die here. Alone.

He sobs. He wants to cry but the tears won’t come so all that’s left are painful, hitching breaths and horrible whining sounds. He doesn’t think he even sounds human anymore and maybe he isn’t. He doesn’t feel human.

He doesn’t make the effort to eat or drink that day and the next time he wakes up he’s too weak to even crawl over to the pile of water bottles and crackers. He decides that it’s a good thing. He can feel himself losing it, can feel himself falling apart and at least this way he’ll go quicker. He can’t stand this. He can’t stand being alone. He wants May. He wants Ned and MJ. He wants Mr. Stark. He doesn’t want to die and he really doesn’t want to die alone.

This isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t-

He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. He hadn’t seen May in two days before he was taken due to her schedule and now he’d never see her again. He was the last of her family and he was being selfish and leaving her alone. He’d already taken away he husband and now look at him? He breaks everything he touches.

He’s tired. He’s so tired. Peter lets his eyes close. He’s just going to nap.

“Kiddo? Rhodey he’s not responding he looks… fuck Rhodey clear me a path I’ve got to get him out of here! Peter, its me kid. You’re okay I’m going to take care of everything now so you just relax alright? Rhodes I swear to god if you don’t handle it.”

Peter frowns in his delirium. That voice sounds like Mr. Stark but that’s impossible. Peter’s dead. He was dying. He gave up right?

“I’ve got you buddy you’re going to be just fine,” the voice says again and it sounds a little robotic – just like Mr. Stark does in the Iron Man armor actually. He feels like he’s floating. “You’re aunt and I have been worried sick Petey, you didn’t even send a postcard!” The voice is trying to be humorous but is falling flat. It’s nice though. It’s been a long time since Peter has heard anything but his own thoughts.

“Just a quick little flight Webs,” he’s told, the ground rocking under him. It almost feels like being carried and it warms him just a little. His brain has been sabotaging him at every turn but at least its making his death peaceful.

“No no buddy,” the voice sounds a little frantic but its like listening through a pool of water. “Stay with me Peter, you’re going to be okay just stay with me.”

He hates disappointing the voice but he’s tired.

So tired.

Peter drifts.

[tainted-wine]

No Holding Back

Izuku Midoriya X Reader (NSFW)

(This is based on the fear and anxiety of reaching orgasm due to the intense feeling, an issue that a surprising amount of ladies face.)

“What should I do?”

“You don’t need to do anything. Just relax.”

You did your best to obey, taking a deep breath as Izuku massaged your breast. He leaned down to lock your lips in a deep kiss, his mouth moving as slowly as his hands, successfully putting you at ease. You focused on your breathing and his touch, nothing else. He was always trying so hard, trying to make this feel as good as possible for you. But it always ends with you backing out, no matter how patient he was. Why did you keep ruining it?

A tongue swiping your lips snapped you out of your stray thoughts. Izuku was staring at you with that all too familiar look of worry in his eyes. “You stopped kissing.” He said.

You tried to laugh it off. “Sorry, I’m getting distracted already. Don’t mind me.”

He only answered with a sympathetic smile, a smile that you always appreciated. No matter how many times you screwed this up, you never saw any frustration on his face. He never voiced any complaints, only reassurance.

“It’s alright, we’re probably just moving too fast.”

“Stop that. Don’t ever think that you’re ruining something for me.”

“I just want to help you reach this. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

Izuku continued with kisses at the corner of your lips before moving down to your jaw and neck. He mouthed gently at your pulse that was slowly increasing in speed. A moan escaped you when he began sucking at your skin, the warmth of his mouth sending chills through your body. He normally wasn’t one to leave marks on you, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he got a little careless just this once.

His hands never let up their ministrations, still kneading your breasts with his thumbs brushing over your now-erect nipples. His mouth moved lower, kissing your collarbone, and then reaching your mounds of flesh to replace one of his hands with his eager mouth. The hot tongue swirling around your nipple rekindled that heat inside you that you’ve grown so familiar with.

That caged pleasure that you always found, but couldn’t release.

You’ve gotten close to your orgasm so many times, but you never failed to panic and cut it short. It was difficult to explain to the love of your life. Yes, it felt good. Yes, you loved what he was doing. But the sensation of that pleasure building up more and more, that incoming burst…it was honestly frightening.

Izuku was understanding each time. He would simply hold you until you calmed down. Sometimes you couldn’t help but cry, feeling disheartened whenever you gave in to the fear and stopped whatever Izuku was doing, and he would respond by wiping your tears away. Those were the nights when you wondered if you deserved such an angel of a man.

Now the two of you were trying once again. There was never any haste in Izuku’s movements. He was determined to help you learn how to soak in every sweet sensation and to conquer your fear of losing control. As he continued to show love to your breasts, his free hand moved down to your womanhood, fingers brushing ever so lightly over your lips. The feather light touch was still enough to make you gasp.

His mouth switched to your other breast, giving it the same wet attention. You buried your fingers in his hair as he happily suckled you, the wonderful sight adding to your growing arousal. He rubbed your folds more firmly, one of his fingers teasing your opening. Your grip around his curls tightened as your back arched and pushed your breast further into his face. Izuku chuckled and pulled away from you.

“You’re doing great,” He said softly.

You were still feeling anxious. “It’s feeling pretty intense already. What if I make a weird sound?” That wasn’t a dumb concern, was it?

He peppered your chest with kisses. “You won’t. Trust me, whatever sounds you’ll make, I’m going to love it.”

You were just about to protest before a finger pushed into your wet tightness, forcing a gasp out of you as a sharp jolt shot through your body. “Izuku!” was the only thing that escaped your mouth instead.

Izuku watched your face lovingly while rubbing your insides. You tried to hold his gaze, green eyes boring into yours with such intensity that you had to turn your head away. A few minutes of slow stroking passed before he added another finger and sped up his pace. You whimpered at the tingles in your abdomen, pleasure building up like water in a dam. And once that dam breaks…

You don’t know what will happen.

“You’re tensing up.” Izuku told you without stopping his fingers. His other hand was slowly rubbing your thigh, enjoying the occasional quiver. “Do you feel close?”

“Yeah, I think,” You breathed out. “Izuku, I feel like I’m about to burst.”

“Does it feel good?”

You took a moment to catch your breath. “Yes. It feels really good.”

“Keep relaxing and concentrate on that feeling. Don’t worry when it gets stronger, alright? If it feels like it’s going to wash over you, let it.”

You simply nodded and attempted to collect yourself, an attempt that immediately failed when the digits inside you curled and pressed against a very sweet spot. You couldn’t hold in the cry that escaped you, the hot wave of pleasure catching you completely off guard. “Izuku! Izuku, it’s too mu-AH!” He was hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over, it was crippling.

Izuku kissed your inner thigh, drifting closer to your pussy. “That’s it. You sound so nice. Let me hear you.” His breath brushed against your sex as he pumped his fingers at a rapid pace.

There was a powerful pressure coiling within your lower body and was slowly expanding. Out of reflex, you tried to crawl away from the frightening sensation, only to have a strong hand grab your waist and hold you in place.

“You’re almost there. Don’t back out now. You’re about to feel so good.” He looked up at you from between your legs, voice sounding so deep and breathless that you would think he was the one being pleasured right now.

You tried to settle down again, shutting your eyes tightly while ignoring your usual urge to flee from the incoming climax. Among the thunderous sound of your heartbeat, you heard Izuku’s voice again.

“Just feel…”

The friction against your g-spot was becoming mind-numbing.

“Take deep breaths…”

Tears were pricking at your eyes in excitement and fear.

“And cum for me.”

A pair of wet lips latched onto your swollen clit without any warning and started sucking hard.

It’s like all of the orgasms you’ve held back returned and came crashing down on you all at once, enveloping you in white hot pleasure. You’ve lost complete control, just like you worried, but your mind was too clouded to give a damn about that. The spasms were violent, reducing you to a trembling mess, trapping a very excited mop of green hair between your legs. Were you screaming, or was your mouth just hanging open? You couldn’t tell. In fact, you couldn’t properly perceive anything. Your vision was nothing but colorful flashes, and the only thing you heard was the blood pulsing through you.

All you knew was ecstasy.

The delightful throbs felt never ending, but you felt your senses slowly return. A gentle hand caressing your face brought you back to earth.

“You did it!”

Oh right, Izuku was here.

He leaned down to kiss your dampened forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You didn’t give up on yourself.”

You managed a giggle, your body still shaking with each exhale. “You’re making this sound like a training lesson.”

“Well, it technically was. You learned a lesson about letting go, didn’t you?” He swallowed, bashfully turning his head away. He had absolutely no right acting so shy after what he did to you.

You smiled and brought his head down for a kiss. “I had one hell of a teacher.” You shuddered at just how intense that moment was. “It was still scary, honestly.” You said quietly. “But it wasn’t a terrifying scary, it was exhilarating. It really does feel good to lose control sometimes.” You gave him another kiss. “Thank you, Izuku.”

Izuku settled beside you and pulled you in for some cooldown cuddles. “You cumming was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - percy meets a real life pirate

Hi! I'm just gonna let you guys know now that I don't really have an updating schedule thus far. The only thing I'm doing it making sure that I get a chapter out at least every 2 days.

I hope you guys are enjoying this so far, and please don't hesitate to correct me if I make any technical mistakes. Sometimes my beta and I will both miss something.

This would not have been possible without my amazing beta reader, nightskywithrainbows, so tysm you are a lifesaver. You keep this story from being absolute shit.

As a reminder, this story is also on FF, Ao3, Inkitt, Webnovel, and Wattpad. If you prefer those places, just go check out the story on there. Now, on with the good stuff! Stay safe and happy reading!

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

The first thing Percy felt was aching and stinging pain coming from his side. He groaned and tried to sit up, but found that he was tied down to a gurney with leather straps. So they think I'm a psycho. Nice to know, Percy's ADHD brain thought.

The bright lights caused his vision to swim for a second before they could focus and perform a quick surveillance of the room that revealed to Percy that he was in some sort of metal box. The walls had hexagons on them and there was a metal table with two metal chairs in the middle of the room. Basically, everything was metal.

In the corner, there was a camera with a blinking red light, so Percy knew that he was being watched. That meant he couldn't try an Iris Message unless he wanted some interesting questions from his captors that he didn't have answers to. He wasn't an idiot.

Speaking of his captors, nobody had come in yet, but they clearly knew he was awake. That meant that they were trying to scare him. Little did they know, it would take a lot more than isolation to scare him. Specifically, something less mortal.

Deciding that it would be best to try to calm himself, Percy willed his muscles to relax and closed his eyes. On the outside, it seemed like he was sleeping, but on the inside, his mind was flitting from topic to topic faster than light. It went from freaking out, to figuring out how to escape, to Annabeth, to his mom, to sleep, and back to freaking out. It was an endless cycle.

"You aren't that good of an actor, you know," a voice shocked him out of his thoughts, causing him to attempt to jump up again.

The attempt resulted in his wrists undoubtedly getting bruised, and his side to feel like he just got kicked in the ribs. Remembering that, apparently, Hill shot him, he started to freak out again. When he looked down, he could barely see the blue liquid dried on his side. So they had poisoned him then?

"You poisoned me?!" he exclaimed, finally meeting the eyes of the voice.

It was a middle-aged man with a starting of a receding hairline, with smile lines around his eyes. He was wearing a simple suit with an outline of a gun sticking out on the side, so he was another agent, but he kind of reminded Percy of Paul with how he presented himself.

The man gave him a small smile, "Agent Hill only used a tranquilizer. My name is Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcements and Logistics Division, or SHIELD."

Percy raised his eyebrows, "That's quite the name, and I thought you were the FBI. Also, would you mind telling me why I'm strapped down? I haven't done anything."

Percy thought that the best course of action was to stick with the innocent story, considering that it was partially true anyway.

"Well, I don't think that's completely true, Mr. Jackson. You assaulted our agent. We have every right to prepare for any other outbursts from you," Coulson said.

"She wanted to arrest me for no reason. I don't know what you guys want from me, but I can't help you. I'm a completely normal guy," Percy insisted, hand slowly sliding down until it rested against his pocket. He let out an involuntary sigh when he felt Riptide.

Coulson kept a cool face as he responded smoothly, "A completely normal guy wouldn't say he was completely normal."

Schist, Percy swore in his head. If Annabeth was there, they would've been free already. But with his luck, he would end up in some world-ending crisis again.

But then he heard a voice in his head. Not the kind of voice crazy people hear, but it was his father's voice, speaking to him like it used to during times of trouble. If this was serious enough to gain Poseidon's attention, then it was an issue Percy should be worrying about more. A demigod's life is never at peace...

"Stay silent, Percy. These are the ones working with the Avengers and the Norse god, Thor. They have not proven their trustworthiness yet. You were sent here to learn more about them. I'm sorry, Percy," his father said, voice somber and apologetic.

Percy gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to call the Fates a lot of colorful names. But that would just provoke them, so he stayed silent. He moved his gaze from Agent Coulson to the ceiling, trying to ignore the world around him. Unfortunately, that's impossible for someone whose mind is constantly alert to his surroundings.

Coulson sighed and tapped something on a tablet that Percy hadn't noticed, "Would you mind explaining this video?"

Percy tried to not look, but it was so tempting! So, he glanced over and saw himself, in his swim trunks, holding his hands out while thousands of gallons of water rose up out of the East River. Percy's eyes widened unconsciously in panic. He hadn't known there were cameras there, let alone that the Mist hadn't covered it up. Wait! The Mist.

"What do you see?" He asked, letting his head face Coulson again in question.

Coulon made a face that said he had just had a question answered for him. What that question was, worried Percy.

"I see a man, who looks a lot like you by the way, with extraordinary powers saving a lot of people. I just want to know if that man was you, and why we at SHIELD didn't know about your abilities," Coulson answered, staring Percy down.

The stare was like one you'd get from a teacher who had just asked you why you never turned in an assignment. It made Percy feel like he couldn't look away, but it almost hurt to keep looking.

But his father's voice rang in his head, reminding him to not reveal anything important, so he stayed silent.

Coulson sighed and stood up, "Very well, then. Let us know when you want to talk."

And then he left through a door in the wall that disappeared as soon as he was gone. Percy was seriously considering just using Riptide to slice his way out of there, but then he felt an unwanted feeling in his chest: Fear. They were in the air. How he had not realized earlier, Percy didn't know, but that wasn't his first priority in that moment. He was focused on getting OUT of the air and ON the ground, where he had no chance of getting electrocuted by his diva uncle.

The sky rumbled in the distance, but Percy ignored it. He had grown used to that happening whenever he thought ill of the gods, and it had stopped having an effect on him long ago.

He sent a silent prayer to his dad asking what to do. Annabeth's plans had never covered what to do when taken by a secret spy organization! He was clueless in this situation, as per usual.

All the answer he got was a gentle sea breeze blowing through the room. That's it. It was comforting, but not exactly clear on what the answer was. But that's how the gods do everything, anyway.

"Tell them you were born with the powers. You don't know where they came from, and you only wanted to help. You don't know anyone else who has them. Earn their trust, and figure it out from there. I trust you, son. Be careful," His father's voice flew through his mind.

Well, guess that answers that, Percy thought.

With yet another sigh, Percy called out to nobody, assuming they would hear him through some hidden microphone, "I'm ready to talk!"

Not a minute later, there was a click as the hidden door opened once again, letting in an asian woman in a skintight suit. She looked like the stereotypical spy, that's for sure.

She came over to him without a word and released his hands first, cuffing them with the same glowing handcuffs, before letting his legs free, too. She was clearly waiting for him to bolt, so Percy tried his best to make his body relax. If they were to trust him, he needed to cooperate fully.

The woman kept a permanent scowl on her face the entire time they were together. She was a little violent, too. She was practically shoving him the entire short walk. When they reached their destination, they were in a room with a huge screen table and three tvs on the wall. It was a whole lot of technology, and it made Percy on edge. Demigods and tech within two feet of each other are a big no-no.

The woman took his hesitation as a sign of escape and jabbed him in the small of his back, making his chest push forward immediately. Even though he had lost the Curse of Achilles, that one point on his body was still really sensitive. He turned his head around and shot a glare at the small lady on instinct. He tried to hold it back, but she had just poked his weakest point, what else could he have done?

"Move it," she growled out, meeting his glare with one of her own.

It didn't faze him, though. Lupa's was much scarier.

He sighed (he seriously needed to get a handle on the sighing), and sluggishly moved forward into the room. He just kept telling himself that the faster he got through this, the faster he got to see Annabeth again.

When he looked around the small glass room, he saw Agent Coulson, along with four others. Another, younger asian-looking woman (but she was in normal clothes), a tall brooding man in the corner dressed like an agent, a ginger-haired woman, and a nervous, curly-haired man. His eyes immediately drew to all the possible escape routes and any of the weapons, or things that could be used as weapons, in the room. The brooding man seemed to notice because he stood up tall and took a threatening step forward.

Percy ignored him, though, and looked straight at Coulson when he asked, "Why are they here? Tell them to leave."

"You don't give the orders here," Brooding man said before Coulson could speak.

Percy finally turned to the other Agent with a smirk, "And you don't either. And I don't remember asking you."

It's not like he TRIED to get in trouble with authority! It's more like authority seeks out trouble from him. This moment was an example (not that Percy would call the brooding man authority).

The brooding man took a couple more steps towards Percy, until he was right in front of him. He looked like he was used to towering over others, but Percy wasn't short or weak. He could confidently say that he could beat the man in front of him, so he kept his troublemaker smirk and stared the agent down.

"Watch it, Jackson. I'm not the one in handcuffs here," brooding man said before going back to his corner after a pointed look from Coulson.

"Are you sure about that?" Percy rebutted, holding his very uncuffed hands up in the air.

He couldn't help it, truly. It just slipped out! He had been unconsciously working on getting his cuffs off the entire time, and he had just broken free when the perfect opportunity came up.

Everyone in the room immediately either jumped forward to push him down or pulled out some sort of weapon. Except Coulson, that is.

"Stand down, guys. He's not gonna do anything. Isn't that right, Mr. Jackson?" he said.

Percy rolled his eyes, "Yeah. Of course not. If I wanted to get out of here, I would've a long time ago."

Turns out that wasn't the right answer because the first asian woman shoved him into the screen table, making him almost fall over. He held onto it for support, apparently touching something because a file with his face on it popped up. Percy immediately jumped back on instinct, fearing a monster would pop up out of the shadows. Except, the picture was from his junior yearbook photo...

"Why'd you guys have to use that picture? I look constipated!" he whined, scrunching up his nose in uncomfort.

The younger asian woman snorted, but tried to cover it up after her team glared at her. Clearly, she was the only one on the aircraft capable of feeling, Percy decided.

"We aren't here to discuss embarrassing yearbook photos, Perseus. We are here to talk about your abilities," The first asian woman stated.

"It's Percy," he corrected on instinct, and the woman glared at him even harder.

Before the situation could escalate any further, Coulson cut in again, "Could you please tell us what you wanted to tell us from before?"

"Yes. What do you want to know?" Percy said, putting his hands into his pockets and playing around with Riptide.

"Where do your abilities come from? How long have you had them?" The ginger asked.

Good, Percy thought with a smile, I know how to answer these ones.

"I was born with them, so I don't know where they come from." he stated simply, shrugging.

The ginger looked a little bit disappointed by that answer, but it didn't stop her from interrogating him more, "What are your limits? How have you kept your powers hidden for so long? Can I have a urine sample?"

Percy had decided that she was a scientist. With the way that everyone else was letting her ask all the questions, they probably thought she was the most capable. And plus, she was getting WAY too excited about pee.

"I don't know, I haven't really been hiding, and NO!!" he answered, giving the woman a look of disgust.

Now that he thought about it, it probably wouldn't be good if they got ANY DNA from him. He had never been told what it looks like with half of him made from the gods.

The ginger looked like she was going to ask more questions, but the curly-haired man rested a hand on her shoulder, seemingly calming her. Percy noted that the two were close.

"Any other questions?" he asked calmly, looking around.

Just as the brooding man looked like he was going to speak, the younger asian woman broke in, "Your powers are awesome! How much practice have you had with them? I would really love to see what else you could do with them!"

Ok, so the girl was probably a hero groupie. She didn't look like an agent, so that left the question of why she was on the plane with the rest of them.

Speaking of the plane, "Why are we flying? Can we finish this up on the ground PLEASE?"

Percy was already pushing his luck by being there for that long, let alone staying on here willingly.

The brooding man spoke, "How do you know we were flying? And unless you want to jump, no."

The brooding man was getting way too much joy out of Percy's fear. Like, phobias are real people!

"Ward, if you don't stop talking, I'm going to let Mr. Jackson have a go at you," Coulson said calmly, "Now, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Jackson, if you're willing to listen."

Percy figured that it couldn't hurt, so he gave the man a small nod. He was really trying to think before acting because he had a bad feeling that the conversation would change the course of his life for the better, or for the worse.

The other people in the room didn't seem to have prior knowledge of what Coulson was talking about, and that just made Percy more worried. What could possibly be important enough that Coulson hid it from his team (or that's what Percy thinks they are). His ADHD brain started to wonder where Hill went, but he quickly pushed that thought away. He needed to focus on the present!

"The Director would like you to join SHIELD. Officially, you would be a consultant. But unofficially, you would help us when we need your gifts." Coulson said, shocking literally everyone in the room.

Two beats of silence went before the team started into chaos:

"What?!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Why weren't we told about this?"

"Am I even considered a consultant?"

"I'm sorry?"

Before it could get too out of hand, Percy spoke up, which seemed to silence everyone else, "Are you out of your mind? I thought I was a criminal!"

He wasn't admitting to being a criminal, but that's how they had been treating him. He might as well address their behavior.

"We need the full story from you before we can move forward, but the Director was clear in his orders," Coulson said.

Percy considered what the best option was. There really wasn't one, but what else was he gonna do?

"I want to speak to the Director in person before I give my answer," Percy came to his conclusion.

If anyone was going to learn whatever story he came up with, it would be the top dog in SHIELD. Nobody else, even if he's not allowed to reveal the gods.

Coulson thought about it for a second before answering, "Ok. He's in the interrogation room right now."

Before he could hold it in, Percy full-out laughed. Of course a spy organization would anticipate what he would want. Why not?

The rest of the team didn't seem to know about their guest either, though. Wow, Percy thought, Somebody needs to work on keeping everyone in the loop.

Then, Percy just walked out. Nobody tried to stop him, which meant that everyone was waiting until he was gone to truly let it show their lack of trust in the team. It took awhile to get there, but when he reached his cell again, he noticed that the door was very obvious from the outside and that it really wasn't that big of a room. He was surprised that they would put the boss inside a place they kept criminals.

Before he had even finished closing the door, Percy heard a deep voice speak, "Welcome, Mr. Jackson. I thought you would want to speak with me directly. I'm Director Nick Fury of SHIELD."

Turning around, Percy came face to face with a spy pirate. No seriously, the guy was wearing a long, black coat with an eyepatch over his left eye. The guy also had dark skin with a bald head. It took all of Percy's willpower to not burst out laughing at the sight. Plus, the guy was called Fury!

"Yeah. I'm only willing to tell you some things," Percy said.

"Understandable. What is it you would like to tell me? And does this mean you are agreeing to my proposition?" Fury asked.

Just as Percy was about to deny everything, his father spoke to him again (that was happening a lot that day), "It's okay, Percy. You can trust him. He doesn't know it, but he is a legacy of Nike. Zeus agreed to it."

Percy gave the Director a once-over before deciding it was safe, "Yeah, I'm in. And I need you to swear on the Styx that what is said in this conversation doesn't leave this room. Ever."

He may have had permission, but Percy wasn't just going to expose his entire family without some security first! He wasn't a total Seaweed Brain, despite what some people thought.

"Yeah, sure whatever. I swear on the Styx that this conversation won't leave this room," the Director sighed, clearly not liking Percy's stalling.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Taking a deep breath and pushing past any natural instincts he had, Percy spoke something he never likes to say to a mortal, "I'm a demigod."

Ω ♆ Ω

My boyfriend is out of his mind! Annabeth screamed in her head.

She was currently walking up to the Big House after gathering all of the cabin counselors, praetors through IM, and the rest of the Seven. After Percy was taken, she had immediately left for camp. She had understood what Percy was trying to tell her before, and she was happy that he had actually thought a little about his actions before doing them. Given, they were stupid actions, but it was improvement.

Annabeth hadn't told anyone what was happening, just said that it was an emergency and that it involved Percy. That was all they needed to know it was important. Honestly, everyone had been anticipating Percy to mess up sooner than he had. They had made it an entire year before something big happened! Once again, improvement for the son of Poseidon.

As she walked into the rec room, she watched as everyone's eyes turned to her. At first, it was a little unsettling, but she steeled herself over before any signs of weakness shown through. She had to keep a strong front for her friends, especially since Percy was mis- no, taken, again. She refused to say Percy was missing. He promised he wouldn't leave her again, and she was holding him to that.

After she had taken a seat, Chiron spoke, "What happened, child?"

"Yeah! What's Prissy gotten himself into this time?" Clarisse grunted.

Annabeth ran a hand through her hair once, a habit she had picked up from Percy, before answering, "He's been taken by the FBI, or someone impersonating them. They seemed too skilled to be the FBI. He told me to get you guys for help."

"Of course he has," Nico muttered from his spot next to Will Solace, "Cuz why not?"

Annabeth gave him a small smile, "I have a plan. We're going to break him out from wherever he is. We'll figure out where he is by IMing him, and then we'll storm the place. I want our heaviest hitters making a distraction while Nico and I break him out. Got it everyone?"

She had said that all in one breath. She really didn't have time to go over it again, and her face must have betrayed that, so everyone just nodded along.

"We'll IM him and then see who we need to bring," she said, already pulling out a drachma and a rainbow maker, courtesy of Iris.

Making the rainbow, she said, "O Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Percy Jackson, location unknown."

The mist shimmered before showing Percy in a metal box, talking to a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch. From the sound of it, they hadn't noticed her yet, so she cleared her throat. She didn't care if the eyepatch man saw her, she needed to see if Percy was okay.

Both men looked over at her and her relieved smile grew into a scowl when she saw that Percy looked completely at ease, "Perseus Jackson! Where are you, and why haven't you contacted me?!"

She distantly heard Leo mutter 'whipped' before Percy stammered over a response, "A-Annabeth! I-I'm fine! I was just going to call you, too!"

Her face was probably a tomato of fury, "Like Hades you were!"

"Can we please stop using my father's name as a curse?" Nico asked, but nobody paid any attention.

"I swear I was! I just finished making a deal!" Percy exclaimed.

"He was, whoever you are. I assume you are his girlfriend?" the eyepatch man said.

She rounded on him, but before she could start her yelling, Percy spoke up, "Wise Girl! I. AM. FINE. I just made a deal that will let me go. I will tell you about it when I see you again, but I can't do that if you're yelling at Fury!"

Percy's eyes widened at his ambitiousness, and he seemed to be about to take it all back, but Annabeth spoke first, "If you aren't at camp in an hour, I'm coming to find you."

And then she swiped a hand through the message before Percy could try to apologize. Gods, that boy is in a world trouble, Annabeth thought before storming out of the room and towards the Poseidon cabin without another word.

Ω ♆ Ω

Remember to like, comment, reblog, and follow me! Stay safe and happy reading!

- your author

other chapters :)

[rvmmm21]

just realised it’d probably be a good idea to actually post some hybrid stuff instead of just shouting myself out, huh. 

jindo!seungwan x vampire!joohyun.

‘come here, little puppy’

...

thwack!

Razor- sharp fangs were at the ready as the trap went off. A shrill yelp filled the cool air and sent a flock of birds scattering into the midnight sky. Setting up a trap was very un-vampire like, but she never cared for the chase. She was impatient; wanting to sink her fangs into her prey as soon as possible. It had been a while, too long in fact, since the vampiress had had a fresh meal of any sort. The modern day and age often left her with little choice but to resort to prepacked blood bags from local vending machines. They were as bland as they were pricey, and Bae Joohyun had found herself increasingly unwilling to spend that much money on stale tasting pigs’ blood.

Freshly caught meals were a rare luxury, and Joohyun smirked as she readied herself for the first kill of the night.

Rounding the tree from where she’d been waiting, she gracefully made her way over to the tiny shifting bundle shrouded in the shadows. Her enhanced vision told her something was amiss about this meal; mainly the fact that it was not in the shape of her usual deer or other small animal, but very, very human.

Well, kind of human.

Joohyun was processing newer information with each step she took. She would’ve automatically passed the hectic bundle under the thick, roped net as a human. A human girl, no less. That was until she noted the pair of soft, pointy ears nestled between thick locks of layered golden-brown curls and the fluffy tail behind her.  

Ah, a hybrid, she thought, stepping into the moonlight and making her presence known to the oblivious little heap thrashing about at her feet.

She stood there, unmoving, and fighting every urge to just pick the little thing up and carry it home right then.

The captured girl froze in her tracks when she felt a sudden cold gush over her, making her shiver and prick her sensitive ears towards the direction of the stillness.

How cute.

Yes, she wouldn’t lie. Joohyun had fully intended on devouring anything and everything the night (and net) brought her. The squeals and struggles of her usual kills gave her no pause as she drained them dry and carelessly disposed of their carcasses. However, this. This was different. She surprised herself with how instantly infatuated she was by this adorable little hybrid. The way her ears were pressed flat against her head, weighed down by the heavy rope. The way her tail quivered ever so slightly, in fear no doubt, and those big, soft brown eyes with the unknowing ability to pierce right through her cold, dead soul. If she had a heart, it would’ve been fluttering and doing backflips by now, she was sure of it.

The vampire was so consumed by her captive that she forgot to be angry that she’d been swindled out of tonight’s meal.

The girl, on the other hand, was completely terrified as she beheld this elegant vampiric beauty with sleek raven hair casting a looming shadow over her trapped form. Her skin was flawless, un-kissed by anything other than the moon and it seemed to shimmer ethereally under the light of the stars. Her heart was going a million miles a minute, audibly thumping against her ribcage as her canine senses picked up on a peculiar warmth to this woman despite her deathly steely exterior. The woman began circling her, and she followed the movement with wide, shaky eyes.

Her attention snapped to the figure now crouching down beside her.

“Well look what we have here,” she sneered, making a show of licking her blood-red lips as the girl squeaked in fear, “A lonely puppy, all for me to snatch up.”

Joohyun had decided not to eat her, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t toy with her a little.

The terrified girl gave a small whimper and tried to scoot back as far away from the vampire as she could. But the net was small, and she’d pulled it taut in no time, exhausting all her options of escape.

The woman chuckled darkly and closed the distance between them once again. She didn’t miss how hard her little captive was panting, chest erratically rising and falling with every panicked breath.

“Nowhere to run, I’m afraid,” Joohyun paused when she caught sight of the girl’s neck; the paleness enhancing the way her pulse point on her jaw throbbed madly, and so deliciously bare.

My my, is she really? If she is… then this is too good to be true. Oh, this is Christmas.

“Oh dear, little puppy,” she smirked, feigning concern to which she already had the answer to, “where’s your collar? Do you not have an owner?”

Her smirk widened as her suspicions were confirmed when the girl meekly shook her head, ears flopping over and drooping sadly.

Poor thing, a stray. How could such an endearing creature possibly be a stray?

Anger bubbled up inside her thinking about who could’ve done this. It was obvious that this was a pedigree, and a fine specimen, at that. Definitely the type to be bred and bred from the finest bloodlines, only purpose in life to serve in show business or to be bought by filthy rich families who hadn’t the time nor a clue on how to properly raise a hybrid. It made her sick to her stomach. But she hastily brushed her emotions and opinions aside, focusing on the more important issue at hand.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“S-Seung-w-wan…” the girl barely even managed to stammer.

It was settled then. Seungwan needn’t worry, for she had found herself, willingly or unwillingly, a new home. Never had the vampiress made up her mind as fast as she did tonight, wanting nothing more than to keep this shivering little puppy warm and safe at all costs. It was so perfect, she almost forgot she’d come out tonight to feast, and her fangs had long since retracted. She’d been contemplating getting a pet ever since moving into her new place. Despite appearing aloof and reticent to the public eye, Joohyun had to admit that it did get more than a little lonely having to live with oneself day to day with nothing but your own lifeless soul for company. She desired companionship, and she was just waiting for the right time to acquire it.

But it seemed like fate beat her to it, in a night of unadulterated bloodlust.

“Well then, Wannie, it’s time to go home,” she said nonchalantly, pushing herself from her position and straightening up in preparation to cut the net.

She looked down at the shivering girl at her feet, curled up in a tight ball and burying her face in her fluffy jumper. The vampiress inwardly kicked herself for knowing she’d just as good as given the poor thing a heart attack.

Okay, façade’s up you idiot. Time to play nice.

Having had basic knowledge of dogs and the responsibilities that came with them from the time she was a young vampiress and her family had gifted her a Dachshund pup for her 100th birthday, Joohyun bent down once again to calm Seungwan down, hoping hybrids were the same. She'd adored Mr. Wiggles, but learning to come to terms with the loss of a pet was a grievous path known to animal lovers of all species, human or vampire. She had been far too upset for the next thousand years or so to even consider getting another pet, for fear of forgetting him and feeling as though he was easily replaceable. But it wasn't just a pit of despair, though. Pets were lovely; their warmth was like no other. You’d often find yourself questioning what on earth you had done, never quite sure how you’d come to deserve such boundless, unconditional love.

And Joohyun couldn't have felt more undeserving.

Ignoring the scared flinch she received for reaching into the net, she carefully extended a limp hand, as Seungwan strained her neck forwards to take cautious little sniffs at it and at the air around her, trying to detect any sort of potential threat. Of which she found none. Joohyun then began oh so gently scratching soothing circles on the puppy’s head behind her small floppy ears. Seungwan immediately let out a small, heart-breaking whimper as she tensed at the sudden contact, however, visibly relaxed when she realised the fingers weren’t hurting her, after which she instinctively sighed into the affectionate touch.

Joohyun let out a shaky breath of relief when it worked.

“There, there,” she cooed, taking care not to scratch too hard as she carefully observed Seungwan’s expressions, “Sorry for scaring you, little one. But I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Seungwan wasn’t sure how much of that she could actually trust, but in her current state of affairs she had little else to go by but the words of this bizarrely tender vampiress.

And she seemed to be keeping to it… for now, at least.

Seungwan just about rolled over in submission when Joohyun took one of her warm little ears and started rolling it softly between her fingers. Shivers ran down her body and her tail began unconsciously swishing back and forth. She’d never been touched like this before, and the poor thing shocked herself with how her body naturally responded to the simple caresses. She was so depreaved of any physical touch, affection aside, that the little that Joohyun was doing now overwhelmed her enough to willingly go along with it; to be taken in and taken care of, despite having her qualms about stranger danger.

“I’m going to take care of you, but you have to be a good girl and come home with me,” the vampiress couldn’t stop an escaping giggle at the sight of the girl practically drooling as she continued to roll her soft, velvety ear; eyelids heavy and pink little tongue lolled out at the corner of her mouth.

“Okay, puppy?” she inquired, taking her hand from out of the net.

The little dog whined at the sudden loss of contact, but unexpectedly nodded up at her with sad, glazed brown orbs.

We’re not even home yet. Wannie-ah, are you trying to kill me?

It was only when Joohyun was sure the girl had calmed down significantly to the point where she knew Seungwan wouldn’t try to run, did she give the net a quick slice with the small knife she kept handy at all times. She hurled the weight off and Seungwan’s ears sprung up, one sticking straight up and one happily folding over as she innocently glanced around, apparently not yet realising she was free. It was murderously heart-wrenching to behold; Joohyun had to thank her lucky stars she didn’t have one. She made quick work of crafting a makeshift noose and lead out of the remnants of the trap.

Holding the noose up in front of her with trembling hands, Joohyun held her breath, warily eyeing the unmoving girl as she carefully inched her way closer, utterly terrified that she’d make the one unfavourable movement that would cause Seungwan to bolt.

But it never happened. The puppy stayed put, head cocked and eyes on her the entire time.

“Okay Wannie, don’t be scared, I���m just going to put this around your neck. It’s only for now, I promise. It won’t be long.”

The vampiress was more than prepared. She was prepared to have to chase the girl down, subconsciously readying herself for when she’d make a run for it. A small part of her also prepared to give in, to accept the fact that she’d lost her little pet and resign herself to loneliness once more until she found someone or something that tugged at her as deep and effectively as Seungwan had tonight.

What she wasn’t prepared for, was abruptly being nose to nose with the girl in less time it took to blink, feeling her hands that were still clutching the noose now lightly grazing the tips of her shoulders. Joohyun had to forcefully blink the disbelief away before settling her gaze back on the floppy-eared girl now standing inches away from her, breath tickling her chin. A seismic shock wave threatening to wipe the earth would’ve flustered her less, as her entire being froze in this completely unprecedented display of dangerously blind trust only a puppy could boast.

So she just about keeled over and perished, as the terms and conditions of being immortal would allow, when the irreproachable honey-toned words left Seungwan’s mouth in the tiniest, almost punishingly lovable question.

“Take Wannie home now?”

[kylo-but-not-to-me-ren]

Thoughts on The Rise of Skywalker

Just a disclaimer that this post contains TROS spoilers 

Hi there, it’s me again sharing my views on the latest Star Wars as a Reylo, fan and former film student (the latter may show at some point but it’s mostly a fan view). 

I had pretty high expectations for this movie and I was not not happy leaving the screening, but I had some things that I thought would go down differently so here’s what I think. 

Rey

I really like how organic Rey and Kylo’s connection and intimacy is portrayed in The Last Jedi, and J.J. expanded a bit on that which I think it’s very nice (and apparently they can teleport things via ForceSkype now which is an interesting take but I understand the reasoning). 

One thing that I didn’t really like is that Rey is a Palpatine. I’ve seen one theory on this and it makes sense now, yet I was a great supporter of the theory that Rey was really a nobody, that she came from nothing like Kylo said. She could’ve been just like Anakin who didn’t have either Jedi nor Sith ancestors. 

On a more positive note, Rey’s conflict with herself is an ongoing theme in this trilogy and I believe it was really well developed and has come to a satisfying conclusion. I felt like she was a bit lost in the beginning and I thought it was going to be an issue later on but thankfully it got better before it was too late. 

Also Rey is so goddamn powerful and strong with the Force I love her so much.

When Rey and Kylo are battling in the old Death Star and she stabs him with his own lightsaber but then she feels Leia’s gone and immediately realises what she has done and without second thought she kneels to heal Ben crying. My heart exploded I felt so many things at once I can’t explain. 

“I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand.” hsdcsgfyufgyufgeryfcgeif i died. 

The ForceSkype teleporting feature I ALMOST FAINTED BECAUSE I GENUINELY THOUGHT SHE WAS GOING TO KILL BEN INSTEAD OF PAPLS WHEN THEY EXCHANGED LOOKS I WAS SO RELIEVED AND HAPPY WHEN SHE GAVE HIM ANI’S BLUE LIGHTSABER. 

DARK REY WITH HER DOUBLE RED LIGHTSABER. 

THAT YELLOW LIGHTSABER. I WANT IT. NOW. 

Also maybe that “I am all the Jedi” line is a nudge to Avengers: Endgame? (*cof* hi Disney *cof*) 

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo 

Next up is ma boi Kylo Ben, who has been my favourite character this whole trilogy and hell Adam Driver portrayed him so wonderfully. In TLJ he grew so much as a character, not only as a villain but a person who went through a lot, has an abusive master and is constantly being haunted by the guilt of killing his father. 

To start this off, I want to talk about those first scenes. OH MY GOD KYLO TAKING ALL THOSE PEOPLE IN THE FOREST IN SLOW MOTION AND HIS SOLO JOURNEY TO EXEGOL. After that I got mad at Palps when one of his first lines was “I have been every voice you have ever heard inside your head” because it means Ben has been manipulated his whole life and didn’t really have a choice other than turn to the dark side. 

Kylo’s arc is by far my favourite and in my (completely biased) opinion the best written one. When he’s introduced in TFA, he’s a promise of a new Vader but he’s not quite there yet. Kylo has conflict inside him, a spark of light still, and to put out that spark once and for all he’s instructed by his master to kill Han Solo, but as we’ve seen it has “split his spirit to the bone”, to quote Snoke. 

Later on in TLJ when the ForceSkype starts we begin to see more of Kylo’s vulnerable side, specially when Rey is talking to him in the hut. Kylo takes his fcking glove off to take Rey’s hand and that’s when Reylo became canon and you can’t change my mind. 

Fast forward to TROS, Kylo is already the Supreme Leader and he’s as strong as Rey (but most likely more skilled because he had extensive training while Rey had only a few lessons and read some books?) and they are Force Dyads which makes them absurdly powerful together. 

One thing I noticed is that every time Rey and Kylo claim to have seen the future both of them are always on the same side, either Dark or Light, but always together. They’ve never mentioned a future where they are apart and/or on different sides. *all the Reylo feels*

Then when both are battling in the old Death Star and Rey stabs him but heals him shortly after and Ben is ready to let Kylo Ren die to become Ben Solo again is brilliant. And that dialog with Han made me shed a tear or two. (a random side note is that I got a tiny bit upset when he threw his lightsaber away because his lightsaber is so cool and I just got one myself but I absolutely understand the need to get rid of it). 

I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN MY BABY BEN SOLO BURST INTO PALPATINE’S CHAMBERS (?) WITH ONLY A BLASTER AND LOOKED SO GOOD. Also I almost cried when he took the blue saber and beat the shit out of the Knights of Ren. 

LITERALLY THE RISE OF SKYWALKER. 

BEN HUGGING REY’S BODY RIGHT BEFORE RESURRECTING HER. 

“Ben”

THE KISS. THAT SMILE.

BEN SOLO DESERVED BETTER. 

And yes, I believe Ben Solo isn’t truly dead and Rey can help him come back and they can live happily like they deserve to be. 

Thank you Adam Driver for being the highlight of this movie (and dare I say, trilogy) and bless us with amazing acting. 

Poe Dameron 

I love Poe, he’s great and I loved that they gave him more screen time and I get they were trying to build another trio like in the OT but maybe making Poe, who was already a great pilot like Han also be a former (spice) smuggler is a bit much? We could use new characters and it’s okay if you wanna recycle the idea but please don’t make them identical. 

Another very important point is why do you need to make up a female love interest for Poe when there’s clearly one already? During the whole movie I felt a sexual tension between Finn and Poe just not to have them together in the end, I was very disappointed. MAKE STORMPILOT CANON YOU COWARDS. 

Finn 

To be honest, Finn is not one of my favourite characters and I believe it’s mostly due to poor writing. Finn is a great character and had so much potential being a deserter of the First Order but his arc wasn’t so well developed in the trilogy as a whole and one of the arcs I least enjoyed in TLJ was Finn and Rose’s adventure in Canto Bight. It all felt like a distraction even though they were doing something seemingly important but failed at the end. 

In TROS, Finn finds a group of other Stormtrooper deserters and I thought maybe it’d push his storyline forward but not so much. I was a bit disappointed but there were also lots of other things happening that I didn’t pay much attention to Finn, one of the reasons being that I already didn’t care much about him before so now it was kind of meh. 

I said it before and I’ll say it again, MAKE STORMPILOT CANON. 

A positive thing on Finn is that now they explored how Finn is Force-sensitive and now he finally realised he doesn’t need to run away and is willing to fight. 

Rose Tico

As I’ve mentioned before, her arc with Finn wasn’t my favourite in TLJ but that’s okay because you can’t make everyone happy all the time, yet I saw many people complaining about her character and even Kelly was attacked that she left social media. And now there were so many complaints that they decided to basically ignore Rose and she’s in like three scenes. 

I don’t think they even gave a plausible explanation why Rose couldn’t come along with Finn, Poe and Rey other than the fans didn’t like her character and they were trying to recreate the original trio. 

General Hux

Well, to be honest I was almost certain he would die at some point but killing him off like that? He deserved a bit of dignity. But his scenes were funny, which I’m not sure if it’s good or bad because he’s a First Order general so... he’s supposed to be more serious, I guess? 

As weird as it is, I kinda get his motives for being the spy, to see Kylo Ren fall so he could ascend to the Supreme Leader position, but things didn’t work out but at least we got a bit of that Kylux tension, right? *sigh* 

Knights of Ren 

One of my great disappointments of this movie.

They didn’t say a word, were only referred as murderers (not sure about the word exactly but it was something like that), had a couple of fight scenes and died. I wish they made an appearance in TLJ but they were only mentioned in Rey’s vision and Snoke mentioned them once but that was it.

They had some really impressive costumes and weapons, though. 

Overall a great movie, lots of nostalgia, would recommend.

So there it is, my thoughts on The Rise of Skywalker after watching it for the first time. Please feel free to share your thoughts as well and let’s talk :)

[warzofstarz]

star wars Thoughts at 4 am

ok so rise of skywalker happened,,, and i have mixed feelings. i didn’t hate it but i didn’t love it either (and i usually love star wars movies), so i am in desperate need of a little rant about both the good and the bad in the conclusion of the saga

DISLIKE

1. JJ ABRAMS DISREGARDING ALL OF THE DEVELOPMENT WE EXPERIENCED DURING LAST JEDI. this is what i am most upset about. you don’t have to like tlj, but you can’t pretend it never happened. it’s like he was trying to completely backtrack on everything that happened in tlj bc it was ~his~ vision for the franchise. i think that is disrespectful to not only rian, but to fans who grew attached to the development of the characters. we see finn revert back to first movie finn (lovesick puppy lowkey), rey become an invincible child of the sith, the end of the skywalker family line, complete abandonment of rose, and a total shift in the message of the trilogy. all jammed last second into the film. the next few points all have to do w this

2. the fact that in tlj it is revealed that rey is truly nobody- she’s not some all-powerful descendant or some with royal blood- and tros completely ignores this and makes her a palpatine. the whole point before was that she’s normal, but that doesn’t make her any less powerful, smart, or strong. the message from the first two movies was that you don’t have to be in these elite categories to be special and powerful, which is an important message to every single child and adult watching. it empowers us as viewers to believe that we have the capability to be great, no matter our status, birth name, ethnicity, class, or where we are from. you can find family when you have none. you have the power to change your life. when jj decide LAST SECOND to make her a palpatine, with no clues thrown into the first two movies to lead us to believe this, it feels like a joke. the rey we had come to sympathize with is suddenly an all-powerful sith, seeming stronger than even anakin and yoda, even though she had never even completed training. this reveal is not emotional and literally loses respect rather than gaining any from the audience. a cop out. i felt less emotionally attached to rey than in the previous two films bc of her sheer perfect power

3. rose being 100% sidelined even though her character was incredible in last jedi. her arc was one that i truly couldn’t wait to see finish and sadly we never got it because she was completely abandoned so it could just be a trio once more. i love her. the disrespect.

4. the sudden introduction of zorri just so that poe has someone to flirt with??? like if you wanted to prove he was heterosexual make him flirt w someone he has actual on screen history and chemistry with, like uhhhh idk? rey?????? dont get me wrong tho she is a badass and i love how she shuts poe down!! queen

5. how they throw it in there that finn is force sensitive but don’t fully explain it?? and he never even tells rey??? this is SUCH a cool concept yet it’s never even hinted at until the third movie and its not further developed as to why. likewise i wish we saw the stormtroopers before they left the first order. see what they dealt with and the abuse they endured bc it’s such an important facet of the trilogy and literally drives finns character

6. how we never touch on why poe felt it when rey was tortured?

7. i wish leia hadn’t died and she rallied support w lando

8. if they are a dyad why didn’t rey and ben fight palpatine together?? then no one would have died??

9. i’m just really sad that they chose to kill ben because even though rey takes their name, the skywalker bloodline is gone, while a palpatine lives on. the entire purpose of the first six movies is anakin bringing balance by defeating palpatine. somehow, palpatine survived this (never explained!!!!), which completely defeated the purpose of the first six films and strips anakins chosen one status and ultimate sacrifice of any true importance. in the end of tros, the palpatine bloodline lives on while the skywalker bloodline is gone, and i can’t help but to feel like that contradicts the theme of the original saga in which the skywalkers defeat palpatine and hope lives on.

10. lastly, i just don’t think george lucas would have wanted ben to die. when people kill off main characters to make the movie more emotional, he has literally said “i don’t like that and i don’t believe that” he goes on to say that he hates when main characters are killed, stating “the whole point of the film, the whole emotion that i am trying to get at the end of the film, is for you to be real uplifted, emotionally and spiritually, and feel absolutely good about life. that is the greatest thing we could ever possibly do.” so, i’m sure some of you could see why i have a little issue with killing someone who has finally recognized the error of their ways and wants to be better. yes, he has done awful things that cannot be separated from his new identity as ben, but i think that it would have been even more impactful to make him live with the crimes he has committed and still make him keep fighting his demons to join his legacy on the light side. overall, bens death left a sour taste in my mouth, and for that reason i don’t walk out feeling uplifted. i just wish i knew what george lucas is thinking right now.

LIKE

1. ben solo’s arc and han. now, before some of you pop off at me, i still think he was awful and horrible and didn’t deserve instant forgiveness, but i also think that someone who has grown up his entire life being treated like the spawn of satan by all adults who are supposed to love him would fuck him up majorly, like it would to anyone else in that situation. i think that he deserved another chance at experiencing love and happiness, and i absolutely adored the scene with him and han solo. it was honestly one of the best parts of the whole movie. thank you harrison ford. the whole “i don’t think i’m strong enough” and him tearing up to his dad CUT DEEP. AND THE “dad-“ “i know” LIKE LITERALLY MY HEART. bringing back the “i love you” “i know” so they are LITERALLY TELLING EACH OTHER THEY LOVE EACH OTHER!!! i’m at peace. adam driver’s acting was absolutely phenomenal. so much respect for him. truly incredible.

2. i loved poe and rey’s bickering. lowkey thought it built some chemistry between them. and how poe seemed quite jealous that finn knew stuff about rey that he didn’t, literally asking him more than once (1nce) about it, like???? han leia vibes. tea. but also poe and finn

3. i really liked jannah SOOO much (and i usually am not one for introducing a character so late) but, like i explained in detail above, i wish they had built that backstory better and introduced her a little bit sooner with more screen time. but i loved her and finns connection and understanding of their trauma.

4. FINN AND POE BEING THE CUTEST HUMANS EVER. that’s all. i just love how they care so very much about each other like stop. cogenerals.

5. ALL THE JEDI VOICES WERE SO FREAKING COOL. CHILLS.

6. i honestly think that’s all. i don’t have anything more

7. OH WAIT HUX BEING THE SPY. i ate that shit up. yes. we stan. AND the hint that he was going along w poe’s phone call in tlj so that the resistance could escape (that’s how poe KNEW it) like YES

8. the animation of young luke and leia made my heart weep

9. that lil sketchy bitch babu and the new cone droid that talks,, mmm

10. OH THAT THE FORCE BOND LETS THEM TRANSMIT OBJECTS THRU IT LIKE THE VADER MASK SCENE WAS ICONIC

11. this is so sad that i am putting this in my “like” parts but the fact that they didn’t kill chewie and that they showed him being so torn up about leias death

12. OH AND CHEWIE GETTING HIS MEDAL THAT WAS SO HYPE

13. rey burying the skywalker lightsabers and looking into the sunset, perfectly tying back to luke doing the same 42 years ago

overall, if i don’t think too hard, i did like it and felt kind of at peace. BUT it could’ve been much better @ JJ :/ i feel like it didn’t do the saga justice as the “conclusion of the saga” bc there is still so much left unanswered. but, like i said, i did enjoy it a lot and have so much love for this world. rant over. i love u star wars. thank u for everything. <3

[aesthetixallyexo]

frost bite ; osh

word count: 6.7k

genre: smut/slight angst

warnings: vampire!sehun, well most of exo are vampires but we’re focusing on sehun here, slight blood kink, wax play, friends (almost) to lovers, character death

‘ in which everything changes when you get involved with the harte family’

**fic is cross posted on my ao3**

__________________

Your family was sitting in the living room, something common once dinner and the dishes were done. The TV was on, meaning your family could afford to pay the bills this month. Some generic sitcom was on, not that you were paying attention. You were much too worried.

Your parents were struggling with money, situated beneath the poverty line. They could barely afford the heating required during the dead of winter. There was a an alleged solution, but it was less than favourable.

Rumour has it that the Harte family would be making an announcement between the mid afternoon to late evening, offering a solution to struggling families. The solution? Giving up the town's young women for a settlement.

Part of you doubted how credible the other girls in your town were, who used the family as their source of gossip. Despite your doubt, part of you was still on edge.

The Harte family was a group of vampires who lived in a large manor just outside of town. They weren't quite a family, as none of them were biologically related. Very few things were known about them. It was common knowledge that they were all men, reportedly handsome and always impeccably dressed, older than one hundred years old, and indeed feasted on human blood; preferring that of which belonged to young women.

Despite so little knowledge, they were universally feared.

Pretty much everything else known about them was rumor. Some would say the oldest would take and eat young children who went out to play at night as their tactic of making their kids behave. Some believed the family didn't exist at all, and was a hoax used by the government for some secret agenda. Many girls used them as personification of their fantasies; dreaming of the handsome men to sweep them from their undoubtedly boring lives.

Your mother noticed your uneasiness, and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. It was obvious she knew about the announcement, not that it was shocking.

In a town as small as yours, news travels fast. "(Y/N), you have nothing to worry about. Even if the Harte's are looking for young women, there are so many girls around here it's unlikely you'll be chosen."

"Your mother is right." Your dad said, obviously trying to be helpful, without looking up from the tv. You sighed. "Thanks mom. I really hope so."

Within five minutes, the sitcom your parents were watching began to mix with static. At first, you didn't think much of it. Television signals were often very weak.

But then an automated voice came on.

This is a public service announcement issued and paid for by the Harte family.

Dread sank into the pit of your stomach.

A handsome man's face appeared. "Good evening. My name is Kim Junmyeon. My family and I are looking for young women under the age of thirty with type O negative blood."

All colour drained from your face as the man spoke. O negative was your blood type.

"If you meet this description, please be in the town square at noon sharp tomorrow," He spoke, but you couldn't hear what he said next. Tears pooled in your eyes. You would have to leave your family, your friends, your life to die at the hands of vampires.

"However, if you think you can hide, We personally guarantee it won't end in your favour. We will find you and take you by force." A smile was on his lips as he spoke, a deep contrast from the words he was saying.

"To those who do apply, we thank you for your sacrifice. To the families, you will be awarded a monthly compensation for the sacrifice your daughters will make." With that, the announcement ended, the regularly scheduled programming continued.

Your mother turned to you, speechless. "(Y/N)," she said, trying to find anything comforting to say. By now, the hot tears were sliding down your cheeks. "I'm going to die, aren't I? That's why they need girls like me. I'm just food to them." While your parents wished they could say no, what you said was likely the case.

"That may not be the case. They live in a large house. Maybe they need maids?" Tears were in your mother's eyes too. She didn't want to face the facts. She pulled you into a tight hug.

Your father was never the emotional type, but he joined the hug, even shedding a few tears. "I don't want to go." You whispered. Despite the words of encouragement your parents tried to cheer you up with, you had already accepted your fate.

"I should probably go pack my things. Its getting late anyways." After saying your goodnights and giving them both a kiss on the cheek, you left go to your bedroom.

The tv was now off, leaving the house eerily silent. You were gathering clothes and books, packing them n your backpack you typically used for school. Once you felt it was late enough, you collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, you pretended as if it were any other Saturday morning. You got up, ate breakfast, and took a shower. When you exited the bathroom, you heard your parents talking. Being curious, you paused and listened. "I can't believe (Y/N) has to go be with that terrible family." You father said.

You could practically hear your mother nodding. "Although, you must admit that the compensation will be helpful." As she spoke, you felt your heart sink.

Was this really what she was thinking about? Money?

He muttered in agreement. "That is true." You could feel your heart shattering at their words. Sure, money was tight, but did your parents really favour compensation over your life?

Sadness faded to anger. If they cared more about their finances, you didn't have to be around to hear it. Packing up any last minute belongings, you left the house without so much as a word to your mom and dad.

It was just past 11:30 am, meaning you had about a half an hour before someone from the Harte family would come for you. You walked around the town, saying your goodbyes to the town you called home.

Eventually you found yourself in the square, just a little after noon. There were no other girls around, just a tall man dressed in a suit standing in the shade. Dread filled the pit of your stomach.

At least with other girls in the manor, the men wouldn't have you as their only food source.

I gotta get out of here.

You didn't get very far, though. "You must our lucky lady." The man's voice caught you off guard, startling you a little. More like a lot, actually. Tall and beautifully intimidating, he could only be a member of the Harte family.

Standing in his presence, you began to panic. "Actually, I think you may have the wrong girl." His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but a knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

"Really? You're standing in a place where I'm supposed to meet a girl with O negative blood, under the age of thirty. Unless you've been frequenting the fountain of youth, you can't be thirty. As for your blood," he paused to lean into your neck, inhaling deeply and trailing his nose by your pulse.

"I could smell you from a mile away." Unsure of what to do, you ran in the opposite direction. He stood there for a moment, thinking how it was only fair to give you at least a brief head start.

This was a bad decision on your part. Regardless, you ran until your leg muscles began to tense up, ending up in a small wooded area just beyond town.

You tripped over an exposed tree root, twisting your ankle in the process. At this point, Sehun wasn't far behind, using the scent of your blood as a tracker. With your limited movement, you crawled and hid by the base of a tree.

Before you could even register what happened, Sehun had caged you against the tree with his strong arms. "That wasn't a good idea, was it?" Still taking in breaths, you shook your head. A look of satisfaction settled into his features, as he knew you wouldn't put up much of a fight.

It was silent. Your erratic heartbeat and breathing were the only sounds that could be heard. He had you under some sort of spell, causing you to involuntarily expose the flesh of your neck. Sehun's lips dragged over the sensitive area, searching for your pulse.

Gently kissing the area, you to gasped out. The gasp quickly turned to a scream, as you felt his fangs plunge into your skin. Cries of pain tumbled from your lips as he lapped up your blood.

You became light headed, on the verge of unconsciousness. Accepting your fate, your eyes began to close and your voice was silent. Right before the darkness came over you, Sehun was practically ripped away from you.

"Sehun, when I asked you to retrieve the girls who applied to the announcement, I expected you to simply bring her to the manor. Was that too much to ask?" You couldn't see very well, but you could see a familiar man scolding your attacker, who you now knew was named Sehun.

He sighed. "Sorry Junmyeon. In my defence, you did say that running wouldn't end in her favour. I think it's safe to say I delivered. Besides, I wanted to make sure she was actually O negative." You didn't need your complete vision to know that Junmyeon was pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Just pick her up and we'll go home. You've probably frightened the poor girl half to death."

Well. He wasn't wrong there.

You were lifted from your spot on the ground as if you weighed nothing more than a feather. Sehun slid on your backpack and carried you bridal style, ignoring the little bit of blood still dripping down your neck. He was struggling though.

Junmyeon tried to swipe up the dripping blood, but Sehun growled. "Don't touch her." He retreated, before running of towards the manor. Sehun followed suit, but a little quicker. By now, you were completely unconscious and leaning comfortably into his hold.

He couldn't help but admire how peaceful you looked. In the matter of a minute, Sehun arrived at the manor. His brothers were outside, all awaiting your arrival. When they saw your unconscious state, they collectively groaned.

It was safe to say nobody was surprised.

"You just had to ruin it, didn't you?" Baekhyun practically whined. Sehun didn't bother responding, as the grimace etched into his face said a thousand words.

And all of them were Fuck off.

The off-putting glare on Sehun's face didn't deter the rest of his brothers from firing as many questions as possible at your unconscious form.

"What's her name?"

"Is she the only one?"

"Why does Sehun get to touch her and I don't?"

Sehun became annoyed quickly. "In case you dipshits can't tell, she's unconscious. Back off and wait until she's awake before bombarding her with questions. I'm going to take her inside."

Nobody else could get a word in as Sehun hurried inside. He brought you up to his room, laying you down onto the bed. Blood was still slowly pouring from your wounds, so he lapped up the rest with his tongue and put a bandage on your neck.

He was going to leave, let you wake up on your own, but a thought occurred to him. If he left you, his brothers could very well come in. And the thought of his brothers with their filthy hands on you angered him.

Sehun didn't know what it was, but something about you was compelling. He didn't know much about you, but he felt like he needed to protect you.

To keep you all to himself.

Joining you on the bed, he pulled your comparably small form close. You were shivering, skin cold to the touch. Perhaps as cold as his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, letting one hand fall into your soft hair.

He sighed in contentment, breathing in your scent.

The sweet scent of life.

As tempted as he was to drink from you again, Sehun needed you to wake up. He felt it was only polite to talk with you a little before taking your blood once more.

Your breathing was calm, fanning across Sehun's chest. It seemed you were more asleep than unconscious. As much as he would've liked to sleep as well, that ability left him nearly a century ago.

He simply shut his eyes, and waited for you wake up.

•

You first came to live with the Harte family nearly a month and a half ago. They were interesting, to say the least. With immense speed, strength, and what you could only describe as hypnosis, each of the men used their powers to their advantages with their individual personalities.

Yixing was the oldest. He was lazy, often getting one of his younger brothers do things for him. He was also quite the pervert, and you frequently caught him staring at your ass or chest. Despite that, he was nice and could be gentlemanly at times, when he wasn't looking at your body or making an obscene comment.

Baekhyun was very childlike. You'd swear he was the youngest. He enjoyed candy, and had an overall youthful look to him. Appearances were deceiving, as he was very quick tempered, and would fight the others for your affection. What set him apart from the others was his motivation for doing so. Unlike Yixing, he didn't want anything physical, just your complete and undivided attention.

Junmyeon was the leader of the family. If they didn't have him, the household would completely fall apart. He was a peacemaker, stepping in if an argument got too heated. Similarly to Baekhyun, he didn't want anything physical from you, and treated you with the utmost respect.

Chanyeol was very protective of you. He was possessive, and sadistic. With him being almost a foot taller than you, he was terrifying. However, he was awkward in his approach, which brought a sense of comedic relief to his overall character.

Jongin was a bigger perv than Yixing, if that was possible. He talked a big game, but couldn't really act on any of his claims. He probably would get a lot further, if it weren't for his brothers. He was very handsy, with tendencies to try and kiss your neck at every opportunity.

Then there was Sehun. He was the youngest and quite possibly the scariest of the family. He was the most sadistic, possessive, aggressive, and violent of them all. Every time Yixing made a comment, every time Baekhyun would fight for your attention, every time Chanyeol would try too hard, Sehun would be there in an instant to make them back off.

It seemed as if Sehun really liked you. However, you convinced yourself that it was simply because he needed your blood more than his brothers did and it was easier to get your blood by being nice, rather than by force.

All that being said, you were very close with him. In fact, he had been the only one to feed from you since your arrival. Chanyeol had tried once, only to leave the ordeal with a sprained wrist, black eye, and a multitude of scratches on his face and chest.

Because of your "friendship" (if you could call it that), you weren't surprised when Sehun invited you to skate on the frozen over lake near the manor with him.

Being the dead of winter, any exposed water was frozen solid, a prime opportunity for you to practice some skating techniques. Before Sehun had even asked you about the excursion, leaving the manor and skating to your heart's content for hours on end was a regular pastime.

Before you had resided with the Harte family, attending the annual ice skating competition was the only thing feeding your competitive spirit. As soon as the ice froze over, any free time was dedicated to practice. And it had paid off greatly, winning you first place for the last three years.

Despite being held up in these unfortunate predicaments, ice skating was one thing you wished to hold onto the most. And to your surprise, a little obedience here and there goes a long way. Eventually earning you the reward of pristine figure skates, just before the lake completely froze over.

So like a normal person, you figured going out on the lake with Sehun would be a great opportunity to get some practice in.

The two of your made the lengthy journey to the lake, arriving just as the sun was setting. After strapping on the skates, you glided onto the ice with ease. To your surprise, so did Sehun. He must have taken notice of the look of disbelief on your face.

"Ha, you're not the only one who can skate well." Sehun boasted about his skills, being the cocky person he is.

You let this go on for a few more minutes to let him relish in his satisfaction. Clearly he wasn't aware of the annual skating competitions, and who exactly was winning them.

"Okay, I admit you're pretty good, for a vampire." You faked a sigh, as if being defeated by his skill.

"This isn't the only thing I'm good at dear." With a wink he continued to circle around you on the ice.

"Whatever your say, but I bet you can't do this." With the utmost grace, you took off at a high speed making long, skillful strides. Once at your desired speed, you lunged slightly on your left leg, using it to propel yourself into the air. Managing two complete rotations, you landed on your right leg and glided across the ice with ease. Arms extended at your sides, you completed a few more maneuvers, all while Sehun watched in awe.

Once satisfied with the little show, you skated back over him, making sure to spray him with snow as you stopped. "So, what did you think?"

"W-what the hell, since when can you do that?"

You chuckled lightly at his dumbfoundedness. "I don't know, maybe since the last three or so years."

"Well, sure you're good, but you'll never be as fast as me."

You cocked an eyebrow at his remark, using the your new found confidence to an advantage. "Care to bet on it?"

A smirk set widely across Sehun's face, "Gladly."

"Alright then, how 'bout a deal. I'll set a timer for one minute exactly. During that time frame, your goal is to catch me while I skate around the ice. The only exception, you can't use any powers, so that means no super speed or strength. Understand?" You leaned on the pick of your skate with crossed arms, surely he wouldn't be able to catch you without using his powers.

"Sounds good princess, now when I win, what's the reward?" Sehun casually skated around you, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know what makes you so sure of winning, but here's the rewards anyway. If I win, and you can't catch me before the minute is up, you aren't allowed to feed on me for a month."

He merely rolled his eyes in response, "Fair enough, go on."

"If you win, well..." To be honest, you hadn't really thought about him winning or not. "Okay, if you win, you're allowed to do whatever you want to me for twelve hours. Those are the rules, let's just get this started."

"After you (Y/N)." With that you skated off to the middle of the ice.

Here goes nothing I guess.

With the countdown for the timer hitting zero, the game had finally begun.

Sehun, with impeccable reaction time, immediately propelled himself forward in your direction. You had to admit he was pretty fast, but with your experience, you were ultimately faster.

Effortlessly dodging him, you skated in the opposite direction, earning a frustrated grunt from his part. He used this exact move a second time, to which you could evade oh so easily. Sehun furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, and it was only around 15 seconds into the game.

"Can't seem to catch me, huh?" You teased him as he slowly followed behind you. Without his powers, Sehun was no match for you.

"Don't get to cocky now princess, the game's not over yet." Whilst skating you took out the timer, holding it up to show that 30 seconds remained.

There's no way he's gonna win at this rate, right?

Your legs were slowly tiring, resulting in a slower pace. Not even a few seconds after you slowed down did Sehun have something to say.

"Oh, what's this? Is (Y/N) getting tired?" He chuckled lowly at your worn out form.

"What? No, just figured I would give you a chance seeming as to how bad you are at this." You attempted to control an exhausted sigh, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, look around you."

For a second you were confused as to what he meant, that was until you realized. Sehun had you cornered at the edges of the skating area. But he wasn't moving towards you, just idling a few meters away.

"Looks like someone's trapped, what are you gonna do now?" Sehun gave his signature smirk, as if he planned this all along.

You frantically tried to plan an escape as the timer ran out. Only ten seconds left and you were frozen in your spot. The only way out was to your right. With a burst of adrenaline, you lunged for the opening. For a second it seemed as if he had failed to catch you.

However that idea shattered as you felt a tight grip wrap around your wrist. And with a yank you were propelled backwards into the air, falling freely towards the hard ice beneath. But the impact never came, instead two strong arms enveloped themselves around your torso.

You slowly lifted your head in shock, only to see the cocky expression plastered on Sehun's face, his blonde hair covering it slightly. You felt frozen under his intense gaze, despite the timer on its final seconds. If he was to say something that sent shivers down your spine, his next words were most definitely it.

"I win."

•

It had been two weeks since Sehun had won your little skating challenge, and you thought he was ignoring you.

Scratch that. You knew he was ignoring you. You could tell by how he didn't swoop in when Jongin got too flirty or when Yixing would stare at your ass for more than five seconds.

So when he called you into his room one day, you didn't know what to expect. You knocked on his closed door, to which he said "Come in."

His bed was littered with papers and stationery, dimly lit with various candles. "I need help with this homework Junmyeon gave me." You sat down across from him. "What exactly is it?" You asked, looking over some of the papers.

"Novel studies. He's got me reading To Kill A Mockingbird and I have to answer some questions. I'm stuck on a lot of them."

You tried to look off the paper, but he wouldn't turn it towards you. "Sehun, I need to see the sheet." You leaned a little closer, but he held the sheet farther away. A brilliant idea popped into his head. "(Y/N), why don't you move a little closer to me?"

You did, but he didn't let you see the sheet. "A little closer." He said, a slight smirk on his lips. Once again, you did as he said. At this point, you were quite possibly as close as you could be.

It still wasn't enough though. Eventually, he just pulled you into his lap, causing the skirt on your dress to rise up ever so slightly. "Way better, don't you think?"

The question was rhetorical, so you didn't answer. "So, what exactly do you need help with?" You asked. While Sehun wasn't the most perverted brother in the Harte family, you could tell something was up.

Where you were seated was a dead giveaway.

He showed you the sheet, which was filled with questions. You had to give credit to Junmyeon for putting together such tough questions. You had studied the same novel in the last term of school before you came to the manor, and you still struggled a bit.

It took about an hour, but the two of you managed to get about three quarters of the way through the questions. "Wanna take a break? I know a fun game we can play."

Feeling like you had no choice to agree, you nodded. "What kind of game?" Sehun chuckled. "It's one Jongin showed me. Have you ever heard of a game called Fire Truck?"

You shook your head. Part of you was worried, as you knew the game couldn't be all that innocent, since it was something Jongin has told Sehun about.

"It's simple. I am the fire truck." He placed his hand on the top of you knee. "My hand starts here. It'll slowly move upwards. When you get even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you say red light. Understand?"

The game seemed simple enough. Part of you still worried about Sehun's intentions with the game, but you quite literally were in a position where you couldn't refuse. "I understand."

With that, the game started. Slowly but surely, his hand was creeping up your leg. With each centimetre he moved, your breathing became more irregular. He noticed, and decided to take it a step further by digging the pads of his fingers into the skin softly.

Once he was a little over halfway up your thigh, you had reached your limit. "Red light." You blurted out. Sehun's hand stopped, but it didn't leave your leg. He chuckled a little bit. "But you see (Y/N), firetrucks don't stop for red lights."

As that was said, his hand continued its path up your thigh. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

"Whether you like it or not, the twelve hours starts now." You had no opportunity to respond, let alone react. He had you underneath him and pinned down in a position from which you couldn't escape.

His hands slid across the bare skin of your thighs. He squeezed the area, digging his fingertips into the supple flesh. They alternated between squeezing and massaging, focusing on your innermost thigh.

The sensations caused you to raise your hips, allowing them to meet with his. Sehun took it as the opportunity roll your body against his, keeping you steady by moving his tight grip from your thighs to just above the hipbones.

It wasn't unlike him to be rough with his actions, and this was no exception. You could feel bruises forming beneath where his fingers harshly stroked bare skin.

Soft whimpers were the only sounds you could manage to make. He smirked, obviously foreseeing all of this when he called you into his room an hour ago.

You rolled on top of him while he was off guard, looking for a more comfortable position. His lips met yours immediately after you found your place in his lap, practically sucking the air out of them.

The kiss was hungry and intense, making it seemed as if Sehun was releasing some kind of pent up urge. Your hands found themselves in his hair and his were around your midsection.

Sehun's incisors dragged at your lower lip, following his tongue. The surprising action caused you to involuntarily jerk your hips forwards. It made his arousal evident, as you could feel him hardening beneath your body.

Access was granted, and he didn't hesitate at all to allow his tongue to dominate yours.

It wasn't long before hands left their original positions to tug away at clothing. You were soon stripped of your dress and the buttons on Sehun's shirt popped away to reveal toned abdominal muscles.

Now having a new area to explore, Sehun's lips left your own to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. Love bites were strewn across your chest and collarbones, along with fang scratches.

Your bra joined the growing pile of clothing. Sehun wasted no time in bringing one of your breasts to his mouth, rolling his hot tongue against your nipple. Taking it a step further, he even dragged the tip of his sharpest tooth across your sensitive flesh.

He alternated between licking and sucking both breasts, you couldn't even think of holding back your moans.

Sehun pulled away finally, leaving a strand of saliva connecting his mouth to your chest. An involuntary whine of need left your mouth, which left a smirk on Sehun's face. He admired your body and all the lasting impressions left on your skin.

You were catching your breath, an overwhelming feeling of heat spreading throughout your core. Unsure of what to do with you next, Sehun's eyes travelled around the room until landing on the collection of red candles on his bedside table.

His smirk turned devilish as he slid you underneath him and plucked one of the longer candles. Droplets of wax were steadily dripping from the tip, cooling halfway down. He carefully brought it over, ensuring that none of the liquified wax spilt onto the bed.

You were too dazed to even bother thinking about what he was doing, a gasp of shock left your lips when the first drop landed on your skin. A brief sting of pain spread across the skin as it landed on your collarbone.

He tilted it slightly, allowing more and more drops of the red wax to spill onto your marked skin. The splashes of heat were oddly pleasurable, and you found yourself gripping at Sehun's thighs every time one fell.

Once your chest was coated in enough wax droplets to his liking, he used his sharpest tooth to break them off. Each droplet left a slight red tint to the skin, although it very well could have been a burn.

The rest of his clothes, along with yours, were discarded to the floor.

He had you in his lap again, your back against his chest. His lips ghosted across the most sensitive part of your neck. Your breath was heavy, and the was his tip teased your entrance didn't help.

Without warning, he thrust his length to the hilt. You let out a small shriek of pain and surprise. Sehun graciously gave you a few seconds to adjust. Those few seconds were cut short, as he lifted you by your waist and lowered you back down onto him.

Pain slowly turned tingles of pleasure. You moaned audibly and circled your hips, sending a new form of pleasure to spread throughout your body. "Fuck!" Sehun growled, thrusting up into your tightness.

He guided your hips, angling your body ever-so-slightly, so he could reach as deep as possible. The lewd sounds of skin on skin mixed with his growls and your moans were definitely not silent, meaning that there was a good chance the rest of the family could hear.

That didn't stop either of you, though. Your noises motivated Sehun to continue, thrusting at an inhuman speed.

His hands traveled along your body, stopping to grope your breast or grip your hips tightly.

You were beginning to reach your limit. Your voice became breathier, and your hip movements became slower. Sehun guided your body, hitting where you needed it as your got closer and closer to the edge.

Right as you climaxed, his fangs plunged into your jugular. Your last few moans turned quickly into cries of pain. He had fed from you many times before, but never had his fangs go that deep.

Your blood tasted so sweet to him, especially since it was post orgasm. Everytime he ran his tongue along the bites, your cries turned into louder shrieks.

Sehun made sure not one drop was spilled, especially since the sheets were pure white. His pupils were blown, his deep brown iris tinted with crimson.

It got to the point where you couldn't scream, couldn't breathe. You lost the feeling and circulation in your limbs. He had no idea you were slowly dying.

So caught up in what what he was doing, Sehun didn't realize when your pulse began to fade and your body went cold.

When your blood flow began to dwindle, Sehun pulled away to find your body limp and heart unbeating. He placed his head near your chest, trying to find signs of breath and panicking when he couldn't.

He needed to get you help. He left your body on the mattress, covering you with a thin sheet. In a frenzy, he quickly got dressed, resulting in him running out his bedroom door without doing up the zipper on his pants and doing the wrong buttons.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway just beyond the door. He poked his head out the door, relieved to see Junmyeon. "Hey, I'm having a bit of an issue. Do you mind helping me?"

All this came out in a frenzied panic, with Junmyeon just barely understanding what he said and Sehun failing to notice that Yixing was standing there too.

Junmyeon safely assumed that Sehun needed some help with his homework, which the younger one received only hours ago. Upon entering his room, he and Yixing were met with the sight of strewn about papers and hardened drops of wax all along the floor near the bed, not to mention a lump under his sheet that looked vaguely like your body.

Sehun looked on edge, a little nervous too. "What did you do?" Junmyeon asked, eyes scanning your lifeless form under the blanket. "Well, (Y/N) was in here, and things got a little carried away." He was obviously a little uncomfortable with the conversation, the way he scratched at the back of his neck being a tell-tale sign.

Wanting to investigate a little further, Junmyeon removed a portion of the sheet. It wasn't much, just enough to assess the damage. Yixing, on the other hand, wanted to assess your form from under the sheet.

His eyes wandered, trying to make out whether any ripple under the blanket was a curve of your body or just an illusion from the sheet. Sehun trusted that Junmyeon wouldn't overstep his boundaries, but Yixing not so much.

When he got a little too close for Sehun's liking, he made sure it was known. "Yixing, back the fuck away from her, she's mine." That last part came out more as a growl than anything, leaving Yixing smirking slightly.

"Not even a little peek?" He crooned in an amused tone, leaving Sehun with a scowl and clenched fists.

Being the peacemaker he was, Junmyeon quickly stepped in. "Please listen to Sehun, he's not in a good frame of mind right now and the last thing I need is to bandage the both of you up. We have something more important to deal with right now."

There was nothing else Yixing could say, nothing that would end in his favour anyways. Instead, he stepped back and let Junmyeon do what he needed. "Sehun, I'm going move the sheet a little so I can see what happened. Is that alright?"

He nodded, watching carefully as Junmyeon pulled the sheet back, revealing your neck and collarbones. He stopped before your breasts were exposed, but he didn't need to see them to know what Sehun did.

The visible areas of skin were bruised and scratched terribly. The red marks from the wax was mostly faded, but some remained. Your eyes looked as if you had cried, evidence being your damp cheeks.

Junmyeon ran his fingers along the bites, feeling their depth. "You killed her, Sehun."

While he obviously knew that, he didn't want to admit it. A wave of emotion spread through him, but he wouldn't let it show. "There's nothing we can do to save her?" There was an eerily silent moment, before Junmyeon broke the silence.

"There is a chance she turns."

More eerie silence.

"Seriously?" Yixing asked, who had surprisingly been standing there quietly for the last few minutes. Junmyeon nodded. "Sehun bit her deeply, and she's practically drained. If I'm thinking correctly, because I haven't turned someone in a long time, she should turn."

Something spread through Sehun. Perhaps it was excitement. "Junmyeon, you and Yixing wait outside. I'll get (Y/N) dressed." While Junmyeon headed to the door without protest, Yixing stuck around. "I'm going to help you dress (Y/N)."

An unimpressed look spread across Sehun's face as his brother smirked. "No you won't. Get the hell out of my room." It took a few moments of bickering before Yixing was practically thrown out of the room and the door was shut.

Sehun gathered your undergarments and dress, dropping them on the bed beside your body. Before re-dressing you, he gathered the discarded work papers and threw away any bits of wax by throwing them into a wastebasket.

The bed was made. He opened a window to clear away the scent of sex. Candles were relit, and the curtains were drawn. The room looked the same as when you entered, maybe just a little neater.

Your body was reclothed and briefly cleaned with a warm, damp cloth. He took a blazer of his and slid it on your shoulders. While your dress' neckline covered a good portion of your chest, the blazer crossed over to cover the remainder.

The only visible marks were your bites, curtained by your soft hair.

Sehun stroked your cold cheek, hoping you'd awaken soon. You looked so peaceful, similarly to your first day at the manor. He kissed your cheek, before stepping outside his room to meet his brothers.

They were murmuring amongst themselves, trying to figure out what was going on. Junmyeon and Yixing were playing dumb with the rest of them, as per Sehun's request. He was met with a hailstorm of questions, to which he remained silent.

Sehun didn't respond, but instead opened the bedroom door. The boys saw your still body, and quickly began to pick up on what happened. Not that it took geniuses to figure that out, but your pale skin and the visible bites were tell-tale signs.

"What exactly happened?" Chanyeol asked Sehun, who's eyes were fixed on your body to detect any movement. "I got a little carried away."

Chanyeol wanted to retort with a sassy comeback, but Yixing's hand on his shoulder told him not to.

Baekhyun grasped your hand, feeling for even the faintest sign of a pulse. "Is she gone?" He asked no one in particular. Junmyeon reassured that you should turn and it was a matter of time before you awoke.

Speculation was made as to what lead up to your death, but it wasn't long before it was revealed. Jongin moved the blazer, revealing some of the bruises on your skin. "Sehun?" he asked, causing the youngest to turn around.

"You're not slick." The blazer was moved even more, revealing more and more of the abused skin. "What the hell?" Chanyeol boomed, startling Baekhyun a little bit.

While Yixing already knew of Sehun's actions, he wanted to get in on the yelling. Soon enough, the four were yelling at each other, with Jongin claiming he had dibs and Sehun saying that he had no chance.

In the midst of this all, your eyelid began to flutter. Baekhyun, who had been standing by the bed, was the first to notice. He tried to alert Junmyeon, but he was trying to break up the argument between the four.

It took several minutes of Baekhyun shouting before Sehun paid attention to him. Before he could finish speaking, your eyes were open and you were sitting up on the mattress.

Chanyeol, Yixing and Jongin were still bickering, obviously not aware of your conscious state. "What's going on?" You asked Sehun, who simply smiled.

"Welcome to the family, (Y/N)."

THE END

[azhorratha]

     @aviuslux​: 5, 10, 15, 20, and 25 for sephiroth

(physical/appearance) hair

     Naturally, the Silver Elite is spot on when it comes to Sephiroth’s shampoo and conditioner business. What they didn’t add was that it can take hours for him to get it as clean as he’d like, particularly because he wants to make damn sure it’s taken care of. His hair is the one thing on his body he was fully control and he’s damn well going to do it, regardless of whether anyone else likes it. 

Air drying it is normally what happens. He’ll sit in his recliner in the living room, watch the news and scoff at misinformation for a while, and keep it draped over the back to drip on a towel he set down beforehand. If he’s in a bind, he’ll deal with blow drying it but not often. He hates the sound the blow dryer emits and he’d rather crush it than use it half the time.

Otherwise, he doesn’t do much of anything to it. Braiding it is a necessity at times when it absolutely cannot be loose, such as being in the infirmary or during one of Hojo’s experiments. He has, at times, braided it for formal events to switch things up a bit. Admittedly, he also does it to see what people’s reactions will be. Two of his favorite go-tos are this and this.

(physical/appearance) pain

     Sephiroth has quite a high pain tolerance to the point that it can be dangerous for him. Due to Hojo’s continued experimentation on his body without the use of anesthetics (a paralytic is used more often simply to keep him in one place), he can generally handle most things. This doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel pain at all but it’s a lower degree than another person’s. 

A gun shot, stab wound, punch to the face; all of those general wounds tend not to get much more than a soft grunt or scowl from him. A good example of Sephiroth’s pain tolerance can be seen in a thread with @zankokukami​‘s Zenos, where Zenos delivered a life threatening wound to Sephiroth’s abdomen and he was still trying to get up to fight him. 

However, the worst experimental surgery he’s received from Hojo had quite a bit to do with his spine and brain. A test of how he perceives pain. As extensive as it was, Sephiroth only managed to get out of it that day by proving he could remain conscious during Hojo’s tinkering. Now, when he hears mention of his spine, Sephiroth refuses to go near the labs. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t trust Hojo not to cause permanent damage.

(self) strengths

     Physical strength has always been something that Sephiroth has maintained. He doesn’t believe that his mental health has anything to do with how well he can swing his sword so he doesn’t bother with it. 

Pre-Nibelheim, he finds that it’s never posed much of an issue for him but that would be a lie given his sleeping issues and various others. 

Post-Nibelheim, Sephiroth sees himself as a God. There’s little that could truly kill him and he’ll happily find his way back as long as Cloud breathes. On that note, he does look forward to Cloud’s future death so he may take Gaia as his own and enact his Mother’s plans. 

One ability he’s never talked about much is the fact that he can play music by ear. He’s heard piano and violin pieces and recreated them in front of Professor Gast. His ears are so sensitive that he can hear a sour note in the middle of an orchestra performance. Sephiroth no longer bothers with music much but that doesn’t mean that he won’t tap a few keys every time he passes by a piano, he can’t help that.

(self) desires

     Sephiroth doesn’t want for much. In general, he wants a quiet place to relax (his apartment) and time to himself away from the wars of Wutai. He does want a challenge. Battles become tedious and boring for him to the point that he’ll often go off and do his own thing during combat related missions. 

After Nibelheim, all he desires is more power and to see the world burn. At first, he wanted the world to feel his anger and pain but now, he simply cares for anger. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing but his mindset has been completely changed. He has a purpose now, at least in some way, and he’s fully committed to seeing it through no matter who or what stands in his way. 

He desires to sail through the cosmos with Gaia as his vessel and rule any and all planets that come across his vision. Sephiroth is certain he won’t be denied.

(self) pet peeves

Maybe a bit better in list form:

Slow walkers

People who talk loudly on the phone, either to him or around him

Noisy eaters

Lip smacking during eating

Talking with their mouth full

Whiners

Slow drivers

Shitty/Rude drivers

Interrupting him when he’s speaking

Making him repeat himself

Tapping, fidgeting, clicking pens, and bouncing knees

Buzzing noises

Leaving a light on in a room and leaving without turning it off

When people stand too close to him or stare for too long

Unnecessary noise

Willful stupidity/ignorance

People scuffing their shoes when they walk

People eating food off his plate or fruit from his many bowls in his office (quickest way to get your hand stabbed. unless he offers, don’t do it)

Having to listen to people bite their nails

People trying to touch his hair. Just don’t.

Taking photos of him without his permission

Meetings that could and should have been an email

Staring

[jaehyukiewrites]

after rain

1.6k words | slice of life, angst, fluff if u squint

↳ badgirl!reader + planter!jisung

↳ ↳ 📁summary: y/n has always gotten herself into trouble and jisung, being completely in love with her, always drags her out of it.

↳ ↳ ↳ 📁warnings: mentions of sex (not w/ jisung), drugs, violence

“If it’s her, then promise me young man you’re going to let her know.” - dermot

Jisung always wondered what you were up to. Where were you? Were you okay? Did you eat today? He was so infatuated with you. Your laugh, smile, the way you would scrunch your nose when you had an itch, and the way your voice would crack when you were loud. He knew your cold persona was just a front to hide the soft interior you held inside. But of course, Jisung would never tell you these things in person, he was far too scared of you laughing in his face. Even though you two have been friends for many years he just couldn’t get past the thought of something going wrong.

And while Jisung would stay home at night, tending to his plants, you were out partying. Sleeping with whoever you pleased, never actually giving it a second thought, taking any drug you could get your hands on without paying for them. You were a party animal; every night was like this and every morning it would be a different room with a different guy. Jisung knew all these things about you, but he never let any of it change his feelings for you, even if it hurt him knowing you were in someone else’s embrace.

This night was different. You did the usual, had a few drinks, flirted, did some dancing and when it came time that you needed your fix you hunted high and low for Taeyong. You pushed through all the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, the music so loud you could feel the bass through the floor. You spotted Tae at a table in the back corner. He took a sip from his cup as he watched you make your way towards him. The way your black dress hugged all your curves he couldn’t help but stare. You truly were so beautiful. You smiled at him once you reached his table, taking a seat beside him.

“Funny seeing you here.”

“Good one y/n. What do you need this time?”

“Something fun. I’m so bored.” You whined. He chuckled and reached into his coat pulling out a small bag of weed. You looked at the bag and frowned.

“It’s all I got baby girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the name. As you went to grab the bag, he pulled it away. Your eyes widened.

“You can’t keep getting this shit for free. It cost.”

“What if I make it up to you hm?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever you need me to do.” You hand trailed up his thigh, making your way to his crotch. He took a mental note of every movement you made, a smirk plastered across his face.

“You want to be a good girl, or a bad girl for me tonight?”

“Good girl.”

“Then you’re going to follow me into the restroom and your going to let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Dirty talk was your favorite, and he knew that. It wouldn’t have been the first time you two hooked up.

“What if I don’t want to suck your cock hm?” You teased, pushing his limits. He hated when you were bratty, and you just loved to see the way his eyes would darken with anger.

“Good girls suck cock and you want to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded sheepishly, “Yes sir.”

You walked out of the club, your lipstick smeared, mascara running down your face, heels in hand. You took a puff off from the blunt as you took your normal route home. The street lights flickered, and every once and a while a car would drive by. You took a short cut through an ally way. You saw two girls standing against the brick wall but you just ignored them, taking another drag.

“Hey you gonna share?” One of the girls called out to you. You pretended you didn’t hear anything and kept walking.

“Hey bitch! We’re talking to you.” The shorter one called out, making you turn around.

“Excuse you? Do I even know you?”

“You’re about to.”

They walked towards you, but you didn’t flinch.

“What’s got you all fucked up huh.” The taller one snarked, pointing at your smudged makeup.

“What is it to you?”

“Girl if you don’t quit with the attitude.”

“Um, you’re the one who started yelling.”

The girl laughed but you kept eye contact with her. You didn’t know what the issue was or why the fuck out of all nights they choose to fuck with you tonight but all you wanted to do was go home and take a nice, hot shower. You didn’t have time for this shit.

You turned on your heel walking away.

“Where you goin? We was having fun!” The tall one shouted at you.

“We can have fun once you learn how to speak right.” You waved goodbye as you continued to walk.

You made it to the top of the alley before you felt a sharp pain hit you on the side of the head.

“What the fuck!” You screamed, turning around.

“Dumb ass bitch.” She went for another punch, the blood rushing to your head. The mix of the drugs and being hit made your vision blurry and you helpless. You covered your head trying to block the girl. Her other friend kicked your leg, making you fall.

“Fuck.” You groaned.

They kicked and kicked and kicked until you couldn’t feel it anymore.  

Thunder rumbled loudly, as rain started to pour out of the sky. The girls made a run for it, leaving you lying on the ground; helpless.

It hurt. Everything hurt. You reached for the phone that was in your pocket.

You sniffle, tears streaming down your face while dialing Jisungs number.

“Hello?” he picks up immediately, like he always does. He always has time for you, sometimes you take advantage of that by accident. He really was such a good guy.

“Jisung?” a sob gets stuck in your throat when you say his name, you wince in pain.

“Y/n? what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” his voice is filled with concern and strangely enough it gives you some comfort.

“C-can you please come get me? P-please.”

“Y/n what hap-“ You harshly cut him off.

“Please.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “The alley way we always take when you walk me home.”

“O-okay I’ll be there in a few. Please be safe y/n.”

You waited for what felt like hours until a pair of headlights shined down the alleyway. You squeezed your eyes shut, sensitive to the light. You heard the car door slam shut and a pair of feet hitting the cement.

“Oh my god Y/n are you okay?” He asks worriedly, helping you up. You wince in pain and shake your head no.

“C-can we go back to your place. I don’t want to be alone J.”

“Of course.”

You laid on Jisung’s bed, dressed in one of his hoodies and basketball shorts. He sat at the edge of the bed with a bunch of different herbs that he had grown on a little tray. As stupid as you thought it was, he was very persistent on how herbal medication is good for you. He pulled apart an aloe leaf and you watched the gel-like inside string apart.

He gently grabbed your leg, a shot of electricity shot through your body, and he placed it on his lap.

“It’s going to feel really cold and wet alright?”

You nodded and watched him rub the gel onto your scrapped-up knee. You winced a little and he looked up at you.

“It doesn’t hurt right?”

“N-no. It’s just my side.”

“Im sorry, I don’t think herbs work with bruises.” He smiled at you, making you laugh.

He continued to rub the aloe onto all the open wounds. Usually, you would think nothing of Jisung touching you, but maybe it was the drugs, but every time he touched your skin it felt like your insides were on fire.

You watched him swallow hard.

“What? What is it?” You asked.

“I just, hate seeing you hurt.”

You felt your chest get heavy. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“I respect the fact that you like to have fun, Y/n, I really do.” He placed the aloe back onto the tray and turned to face you.

“I just…” He took a deep breath, trying to form the words

“Jisung what is it?” You knew in your gut where this was going. It wasn’t like Jisungs feelings for you were particularly hidden in your eyes.

“We have been friends for years and I know you like I know myself. You have been there for me whenever I was upset, or angry. You’ve been there for some of my favorite memories.”

“Jisung…” You trailed off

“No please Y/n, let me get this off my chest. I’ve been thinking for a long time now, and you don’t know how many nights ive stayed up thinking about this, I need to tell you this and I can’t keep it hidden any longer. Y/n I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched. Love, something you strayed away from for so long. Countless nights in different strangers’ beds…you have never truly felt love. And here was Jisung, being so vulnerable, ready to love you unconditionally.

“Jisung…I-I don’t know what love feels like. How am I supposed to tell you the same?”

“Then let me show you.” There it was…always so kind.

“We can take things slow and you don’t have to say it back but y/n…I really want to be with you.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks flushed red.

“Jisung why do you care for me? I’m such a dead-beat.”

“Because, I know you’re not just what you seem from the surface.” He reached to grab your hand. He rubbed his thumb against it.

“I believe that you are more than you think.”

[vulpinesaint]

Nyctophobia - Ch. 6

Sebastian trusts one person entirely and completely-and it certainly isn’t the strange boy who washed up on the shore of his island kingdom.

After a disastrous turn of events, however, the pair are forced off on an adventure through a land that neither of them know anything about. With a bard, a spy, and maybe a bit of magic, they’ll have to fight hard to get back home…

Wherever home is.

link to chapter one

link to all chapters (mobile)

link to all chapters (desktop)

Chapter Six - The Boat In The Ocean

In the whole time that the boat floated aimlessly across the water, Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Robin had fallen asleep a few hours before midday. In the time before that, Sebastian hadn’t said a word. His mind raced, attempting to process, trying to understand.

He’d been prepared for this. Theoretically. The possibility had always been there, but it had never felt real, not until it had actually come to pass and he was woefully unready.

He’d never considered it to be a real possibility, he supposed. There were things that were real—the castle, the sea, the people who wanted to kill him. Death. Plans of escape. An attack on the castle had always been inevitable, and when he was incapable of stopping his own worried thoughts, he would run through plans in his mind; a sort of rehearsal where he killed intruders and stood his ground next to his mother, fighting alongside her to protect their title and their lives. On particularly bad days, when he couldn’t imagine any way that their defense would word, he would imagine an escape. Two people, in a small boat, headed to the mainland to regroup.

It looked like he’d imagined. The boat. The sea. The only thing wrong with the picture was the other person in the boat.

He hadn’t thought that his mother was capable of dying. The two ideas had never gone together. Sebastian felt sick, and it wasn’t just the rocking of the boat.

His grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger, still in his hands. He swallowed, and looked up at Robin.

His companion slept soundly, slumped against the side of the boat. They both sat on planks that served as benches, facing each other with the solitary sail between them. Robin had adjusted in his sleep as so not to fall out of the boat, but he hadn’t done anything to block out the sun. His skin had already started to redden. Sebastian remembered what it had looked like after his last boat trip. It had to have been extremely painful; the redness had been sensitive to the touch, even after the blisters had faded.

Sebastian felt something like a twinge of guilt for letting Robin sleep while he burned. Methodically, almost reluctantly, he leaned over to retrieve the spare shirt from his pack and carefully laid it over the young man’s face. He did his best not to wake him.

He didn’t know just how susceptible Robin was to the sun; his own skin was darker, and he didn’t need to worry as much. He figured that the long night clothes that Robin wore would protect him enough for the time being, but he really didn’t know. He resolved to ask him when he woke up. He’d let him sleep while he could.

Skies, who knew what they’d face on the mainland?

Sebastian felt numb, detached. The waves gently tossed the boat back and forth, over and over again. The smell of salt was almost overpowering. He still couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. It didn’t feel real. He knew, somewhere deep down, that it was true; but it didn’t feel that way. There had been plans for this situation, but Sebastian had never gone through those in his head. There had never been any need. He’d never even considered it, even on the worst days.

“Sebastian?”

He started, gaze pulled up to Robin. The young man wore a bleary expression as he pulled the shirt off of his face. He winced as the fabric rubbed against his skin. An experimental touch to his cheek resulted in another slight wince.

“I’m burned, aren’t I,” he said, dismayed and resigned.

“Cover your face,” Sebastian told him; his first words in hours. His voice was rough. Robin obliged, pulling the shirt over the messy light brown of his hair. He looked a bit ridiculous, but Sebastian wasn’t in the mood to laugh just then.

Robin looked as if he wanted to say something. He got a look of pity and concern on his face that made Sebastian’s stomach turn, and the latter turned to redirect his attention to the sea. He clenched his jaw.

“Do you know?” At the sound of his voice, Sebastian turned back somewhat reluctantly to face Robin. The blue of his eyes held uncertainty. It almost looked like fear. “Where we’re going to end up?”

Sebastian shrugged, noncommittal, ignoring the small twinge of sympathy that shot through him. The life had left his own expression. His face had never been characterized by joy or by excitement, but by determination—and even that had gone. “The mainland, probably.” He kept his answers short. He didn’t want to talk. He felt trapped in that space, by the size of the boat and the presence of another person.

It had occurred to him that if they had set off at an unfortunate angle, it was possible that they could bypass the mainland entirely and just float on forever, until they drowned or starved or died of dehydration. He said nothing of it. In fact, he attempted to ignore the thought himself, reaching under the bench to take a drink from one of the water flasks that had been stored there.

“Oh.” A series of emotions flickered over Robin’s face, unidentifiable. He moved his gaze down to his shoes. Sebastian couldn’t help but watch his expressions; he was so open, so easy to read. Robin knew how to hide his emotions. He knew how to guard his expressions, Sebastian knew that from the time they’d spent together, but the young man had never made any attempt to do that when it was just him and Sebastian. What did that mean? That he didn’t care what Sebastian saw?

Sebastian’s heart squeezed when he realized that it meant that Robin trusted him. That odd protective urge rushed over him again.

“A bit ironic, isn’t it?” Robin asked, voice soft and careful. Sebastian leaned down to replace the water flask, tilting his head slightly in question. “Your…” he drifted off for a moment, eyes flicking down as he searched for the word. “Your ancestors, I suppose. They came from the mainland, right?” He looked back up at Sebastian, almost tentative. “They left all those years ago. And now you’re going back.”

Sebastian absently hummed his agreement, looking back out to his right at the ocean. He didn’t think about his lineage often. History bored him, and he had no reason to care about the actions of the dead, besides where it had placed him in life. He was the last, he realized, of his family tree. The final descendant of a line of people hundreds of years old. It had only been his mother and him for so long, but now…

He felt isolated.

Hours passed as he grappled with the unspoken issue. The sun set.

“Sebastian?” Robin’s voice carried the same soft tone. In preparation for sleep, they sat at the bottom of the boat, backs up against the boards they had sat on earlier. It was neither comfortable nor convenient, but it was the best they could do just then. Robin had Sebastian’s spare shirt behind his head as a sort of pillow.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments before he responded. “Yeah?”

“The history book said that you left the mainland because of religious tensions, right?”

Sebastian nodded. The use of ‘you’ to describe his family line as a whole felt strange, but he said nothing about it. His head rested against the side of the boat, and his vision focused in on the grain of the wood. He was tired; it had been a long day, and his head felt foggy from fatigue.

“So…” Robin didn’t sound sure of his next words. Sebastian’s gaze flickered over to the young man. “You don’t believe, then. In the Lady?”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and he raised an eyebrow. He didn’t recognize the term.

“The mainland religion,” he clarified.

That was strange. Sebastian didn’t think that he’d seen any mention of the deity being called ‘the Lady’ in any history book he’d been forced to read. Then again, he couldn’t remember any alternative. He shook his head. Another beat passed. The sound of the waves lapping against the side of the boat padded the quiet. “Do you?”

Robin got that conflicted look on his face again. “I don’t know,” he said, sounding pained. “I might, but…” he drifted off, shaking his head. His plaintive, wistful expression conveyed more than his fragmented sentences. “It feels like it should be important,” he confessed. His voice was soft. Vulnerable.

Sebastian felt another twinge of sympathy, and got a strange idea. He shifted to sit up straighter. “Do you—” he cleared his throat. “Do you want a hug?” The words felt foreign in his mouth, and he suddenly felt extremely awkward.

Some mix of surprise and confusion flashed across Robin’s face before grateful relief. He nodded.

Sebastian avoided his eyes until they’d moved to a position where they could hug without tipping over the boat. Robin ended up on Sebastian’s side of the vessel, and before he knew it, Robin’s arms were around him, face buried in his shoulder. It took a moment of hesitation, but Sebastian reciprocated.

Robin’s hugs and his mother’s were very different. Ceola’s hugs were strong, tight, as if she were afraid of losing her son every time that she pulled him into her arms. She had always held him as if he would fall away once she let go. It had always made her son feel safe, secure. Robin, at first, had felt as if he were grounding himself as he held on to Sebastian. After a few moments, his arms relaxed, and the action was warm; not as strong, perhaps, but warm. It was comforting.

It was almost a strange feeling, Sebastian thought. Not many people actually touched him, and even his mother used physical contact sparingly. It took a bit to adjust, but it was nice. Far preferable to sitting alone, anyway. He closed his eyes and let his chin rest on Robin’s shoulder, sinking into the feeling of comfort and trying to block out the thoughts that had plagued him all day.

“It’s alright to be sad, you know.” Robin’s voice, soft and muffled against Sebastian’s shirt, broke the gentle rhythm of the waves against the boat. “I know you’d prefer not to talk. That’s alright, but…” he broke off, as if unsure, and tightened his arms around Sebastian. “You’re allowed to grieve.” His voice was still so open, so empathetic, so caring...

Something twisted in Sebastian’s heart, and before he could stop it, he started to tear up. An involuntary sob racked his body, and he held tighter to Robin. He fought hard not to cry. It didn’t work.

He hated crying. He hated it. It made him feel weak and vulnerable. He didn’t even allow himself to cry when he was alone, much less around others. This time, though, he felt powerless to stop. Every thought in his head was pushed aside by how alone he was, how powerless he felt, and skies, how much he missed his mother.

When he finally managed to pull away, he wouldn’t meet Robin’s eyes. He wiped the tears away and did his best to maintain a stoic stare out at the reflection of the moon on the water. The feeling of crying hadn’t entirely dissipated.

Blessedly, Robin said nothing else for the rest of the night. Sebastian was loathe to admit it, but he was glad when Robin made no move to go back to the other side of the boat. The other young man’s presence to his left was sort of comforting in itself. At the very least, he felt more like a companion than simply a witness to his weakness.

When Robin woke up the next morning, the sky was still dark, and his head rested on Sebastian’s shoulder. He was the only one awake. Bleary and tired, Robin went back to sleep, leaning into the warmth of Sebastian’s body next to him.

Sebastian woke as sunrise broke over the horizon, sending beams of gold spilling into the water. The sudden light momentarily blinded him as he opened his eyes, and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes. A sudden rush of panic came over him as he realized that he wasn’t in his bed, and that there was someone next to him, touching him. He tried to breathe slowly, calming his heartbeat as he remembered where he was.

Robin slept on against his shoulder. Sebastian did his best to stay still.

The stubborn part of his mind reminded him that he didn’t need to care whether Robin slept well or not. A different part, a louder part, reminded him that he wanted to protect Robin. He let his gaze rest on the young man’s sleeping face. He looked peaceful. Far more so than usual, anyway; there must have been some permanent melancholy in his face when he was awake. Sebastian, loathe as he was to admit any softness, didn’t want to disturb him.

Besides, it was kind of… nice, to just be close to somebody. Especially Robin.

Sebastian muttered a curse under his breath. He despised feeling sentimental, emotional. He wasn’t supposed to care about people. He wasn’t supposed to get attacked. That sort of thing made you weak, got you killed; his mother had been very clear about that.

He trusted Robin, though. It was hard for him to admit, but he did. They were out in the middle of the ocean, anyways. What was the harm in letting himself rest for a moment?

As he looked out to his right, he got the sense that his mother would be disappointed in his actions. He felt guilty. The view in front of him was nice, but he couldn’t appreciate it. Not right then.

He watched the sun rise and tried to block out his thoughts.

It didn’t take long for Robin to wake up. Sebastian avoided his eyes once more. He hated what he’d done the night before. Trust or not, emotional weakness was not something that he liked to or was supposed to display. He heard Robin inhale and tensed, bracing for any comment concerning his breakdown.

Sleep blurred Robin’s words as he sat up. “The sunrise is rather pretty, isn’t it?”

Sebastian relaxed slightly. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear Robin’s quiet breathing. “Yeah,” he agreed, though he hadn’t taken even a moment to actually appreciate the sunrise. It had been a distraction. Gaze still focused on the sun over the water, he let himself take in the sight. It really was beautiful, he supposed.

“Yeah,” he repeated, softer.

A touch on his hand startled him, and his gaze immediately flicked over to Robin. The young man smiled, somewhat sympathetically, but Sebastian could see more than the pity that he’d seen in Marin’s face when his father had died. Robin curled his fingers around Sebastian’s. It was more than pity. It was care, Sebastian thought.

He turned his hand in Robin’s until he could truly take his hand. He offered his own small smile. His sorrow wasn’t lessened, but he felt as though he could manage it when he looked into the blue of Robin’s eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t alone in this. Maybe, since Robin’s arrival, he’d never been.

They were still holding hands when land appeared on the horizon, and both young men let out a breath of relief. They approached a wide beach, devoid of people. Sebastian didn’t know how to get the boat to shore. Robin didn’t either. They allowed the vessel to float closer to shore, and once the water was waist-high, Sebastian jumped out to pull it the rest of the way to shore. Robin protested and offered his help, but Sebastian chose to ignore it. There was no point in getting the young man’s clothes wet when he could pull the boat through the water on his own.

He felt something of a rush, doing this. He was on the continent. He was somewhere that he’d only ever heard about in dismal lessons with his tutors; somewhere he’d never actually expected to be. He was away from home, away from all of the resources that he’d always had access to, away from the life that he’d always known. Skies, who knew what the continent was going to be like? He was left to fend for himself, all alone—

No. He looked up at Robin, who gathered up their things before disembarking on the sandy shore. He wasn’t alone.

He got that guilty feeling again, as if he were dishonoring his mother. He closed his eyes for a moment, pushing the thought aside. He couldn’t focus on that right then. He had to do what his mother would have wanted for him, first and foremost. He had to survive.

“I think I got everything,” Robin told him, holding up Sebastian’s pack and the canvas bag that held their remaining rations. He looked sort of ridiculous, in sleeping clothes and boots, standing in the sand of a beach. Sebastian couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. It faded soon after. Robin looked around, and Sebastian followed suit; the beach bled into an expanse of grassy hills, and for how unsettlingly foreign it was, the whole scene looked strangely like the isle. “Where to now?”

Sebastian stood next to him, searching the landscape for any sign of civilization. He couldn’t see any buildings. No plumes of smoke signified a town, which wasn’t strange, considering the warmth of the spring day. It felt strange, being outside with noone around for what must have been miles.

There was a breeze along the beach of fresh spring air. It felt colder against Sebastian’s clothes, now wet. He realized with considerable distaste that his boots were being coated with sand. It would dry off eventually, but sand had a nasty habit of getting everywhere possible.

After a few more moments of staring, he made an arbitrary decision, pointing up and to his right. “That way.”

When he glanced back over at his companion, Robin nodded in agreement. Sebastian set off in front, and Robin quickly caught up. He looked hesitant, as if he wanted to do something.

“I can take my pack,” Sebastian told him, extending his hand. Robin handed it over. Once Sebastian had swung the pack onto his shoulder, the young man held his hand out, a tentatively questioning look on his face. After a moment’s hesitation, Sebastian took it, and they continued to walk, side by side.

He could do this. He was going to get back to the isle, avenge his mother, and take back his place as ruler. A flare of burning anger at those responsible for the death of his mother accompanied the thought. He was going to kill them all. He would raise an amy, if he needed to, to get back there. The first step was to learn everything that he could about this new environment. He would survive. And then he would do whatever it took.

And with Robin’s hand in his? With that, he felt a strange spark of surety that he could do anything at all.

-

hey, everyone! i finished another chapter!

hopefully this chapter was gratifying for you, too. it turned out a lot cuter than i was expecting it to be. you should have seen my first attempt at writing this chapter: sebastian almost single-handedly destroyed his relationship with robin, and that was muy no bueno.

anyway.

i’ve got some more stuff for you today! that’s right, even more stuff. i don’t think any of you on here have read my stuff before, but i make playlists for all of my books, and—special for this book—i have a world map that i totally forgot to share on this platform. anyway. here they are!

Nyctophobia Playlist (Spotify)

world map

hope you enjoyed, everyone! see you next chapter!

~ love from rai ~

TAGS: @virgils-jacket , @nemothesurvivor , @deathshadowrules , @yayroos , @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars , @rainykingdoms