#Camp Dream Obedience Camp

[campdreamfanzine]

The main 7 campers!

Art by @jammybamfbammy

#dsmp #dsmp fanzine #dsmp zine #camp dream obedience camp #dreamsmp fanzine #dsmp au #fanzine #dream smp #dreamsmp #dreamsmp au #dsmp art #quackity #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #Ranboo #jschlatt #niki nihachu

[bamjammy]

Camp Dream doodles

#dsmp #mcyt #dream smp #dsmp art #dsmp au #tubbo #tommyinnit #camp dream obedience camp #dream smp fanzine #dreamsmp au #dreamsmp fanzine #benchtrio #ranboo #awesamdude

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Nightmares of past misadventures continue to haunt you. In desperation for comfort and a full night's sleep, you seek out the only person capable of calming your mind - Halsin.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

You're startled awake.

Gasping and coughing, you try to control your laboured breathing but the tension inside your chest renders you choking.

It was all a dream, a vision made up entirely by your brain. All of the scenes were mere reflections of what you've been through. None of it happened the way you'd dreamed.

And yet your hands are shaking.

The insidious whispers from your nightmare ring in your ears like an echo: It's your fault. This is all because of you.

Each rustle of the forest trees or a branch broken in the distance makes you jump. Shaking pines sound like the sinister laughter of something too old to be remembered even by nature. The shadows surrounding the camp seem darker and more vigorous as though they have a mind of their own. They lean over you, elongating and reaching to swallow you whole.

Laying on the bedroll, in front of the campfire, you feel more than exposed to whatever strange entities might reside in the woods.

Tears of fear are pooling in your eyes as your breath quickens again. You have to fight your own body to move it.

As your frightened mind focuses on finding a source of safety, your legs are already guiding you in the direction of Halsin's tent. Considering his strange sleeping hours, he's probably still awake.

Not having much care for etiquette in your current state, you call out for Halsin while already lifting the flap entrance. He's lying on his side on top of the bedroll. Judging by his attentive, open eyes, you really didn't disturb his sleep. He's half-naked, even on a chilly night like this.

"You're awake," Halsin says. It's hard to say whether he's asking or stating a rather obvious fact.

"Yes, about that..." you hung your raspy voice. On the one hand, you know that he probably won't mind but don't on the other, it's still mighty embarrassing to tell him why you've come. Isn't it childish to look for comfort in someone after being startled by your own imagination? "Would you mind if I slept with you?" you ask hesitantly. Your voice is breaking, reminding you of the inexplicable dread still residing in your abdomen. "I just- I don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

A deep lion's wrinkle appears between Halsin's eyebrows. His expression, normally quite polite, falls into something more tense and sombre. He's worried.

"Come to me," he says in a soft voice.

Obediently, you lay next to him. A strong arm wraps around you protectively, pulling you close against Halsin's body. He's warm, excessively so. Your face nuzzles into his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat inside his ribcage. As the druid's shoulders rise and fall in slow, relaxed breaths, you feel yours becoming less laboured.

"Thank you." Your whisper is barely audible, even in the dead of night.

"I'm glad to be the one you've sought out in the moment of need."

He doesn't let up his tight hold around you while you stir to look up at him. The sombre tension that crowned Halsin's face is now mostly gone, residing only in his bright eyes. It seems that despite dissipating his initial worry, the druid remains wary, prepared for your inexplicable fear to come back at any moment. As much as you appreciate the fact that he's not enquiring about what exactly had sent you into panic, you know that he very much desires to know - only then can he aid.

"Of course, I did, Halsin," you answer. For a moment you recall how your legs guided you towards him, although your consciousness had been plunged into chaos. Some primal part of you thought him your guardian, saviour. "It's always you."

The druid takes a sudden deep inhale as if your confession stirred something vulnerable deep inside him. Is this what being loved feels like? Feeling sunshine on your skin after a cold, winter night? Or seeing your favourite painting for the first time again and again?

"Then I'll always be there, mo chroi. Whenever you need me."

Halsin's oath is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. Little did you know but he stayed awake for quite some time after that. Partially because he revelled in the sensation of holding you close and in part awaiting for the terror to strike again, startling you awake once more.

But that moment never came.

Instead, restful sleep has found you, washing away the tender taint left by your nightmare.

___

mo chroi - "my heart" (Irish Gaelic). Dude is a druid, Gaelic fits him like a glove

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin fanfiction #halsin fanfic #halsin imagine #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 imagine #bg3 tav #baldurs gate

[star-suh]

Straight as A Line

Park Jinyoung x Male Reader

cw: homophobic top jinyoung, rough sex, dubious consent, hickeys, college au, swearing at each other, cheating, feminization, porn with a little of plot, a redemption arc for jinyoung lol… 

an: lmfaoooo that redemption arc happened when my music suddenly changed to lana del rey's songs changing the whole mood, i'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted anon 😭🙏

this was a request.

—

the university where y/n was studying was planning a trip to go camping in the mountains. it was a dream trip for y/n, he could be close to nature and breathe that pure fresh air but all that sounded too nice to be true. 

"i don't know if i want to go on the trip, fuckass jinyoung is going and i don't feel like arguing with that son of a bitch" y/n tells his friend. 

jinyoung is one of those rich guys who have a lot of ass-lickers behind them, they do whatever he asks just for the money, also the guy is a fucking homophobe, when he found out that y/n is gay he started to make his life miserable. throwing slurs and swearing almost everyday towards the guy…

every student had an assigned seat “are we in school or something?” mocked jinyoung, his smile slowly fading seeing that he has to sit besides y/n “what the fuck? who put this pillow muncher beside me?” he yelled, “can you just shut the fuck up? you're not that important dude no one cares where you sit stop being a manchild” responded y/n making jinyoung's blood boil in anger.

“listen here, cocksucker. i don't want people like you near me you disgust me” he spat while signaling towards y/n with one finger. “stop signaling me you weirdo. you know that usually men who make fun of someone who is gay do it to cover up their homosexuality .. like why are you mad about me sucking a dick that's not so straight from you, jinyoung..” a grimace of laughter finding its way onto y/n's face while jinyoung's was red for the anger, y/n swear he can see the steam coming out of his ears.

jinyoung quietly accepted he lost this time and sat beside y/n ‘this is not going to stay like this’ he thought, crafting his revenge towards the guy.

it was night already, all the tents are ready and everyone is going inside them, y/n was getting ready to sleep in his sleeping bag when suddenly the zipper of his tent opens “what the fu-” a big hand covering his mouth to prevent him from making any noises. “hello motherfucker” jinyoung smiled “you thought i forgot what you said on the bus dirty whore? i think someone should teach you manners and how to be a nice obedient bitch, what do you think?”.

managing to get away from the strong grip of jinyoung's hand on his mouth y/n says “what the fuck are you talking about you fucking psycho, get out of my fucking tent before i start to scream”.

jinyoung's big veiny hand found its way towards y/n neck squeezing it hard “do it and what i'm gonna do next it's gonna be worse, you hear me?” scared by how menacing the words came out of his mouth y/n just nodded, “what do you want then, a public apology?. fucking asshole”.

“you see.. i was talking with my girlfriend and i got so horny-”, “and? do i look like some type of… friend to you? i don't wanna know shit about it” interrupted y/n. “anyways as i said” jinyoung continued “i'm so bricked that my dick is poking his way out of my shorts, so i was looking for a way to calm it but the rest of the bitches are sleeping and apparently you're the only one bitch awake so… i thought why not use this opportunity to help you be my obedient slut. after all you like cocks” he slapped gently y/n's cheeks. “fuck you” are the only words coming out of y/n's mouth…

“shh be quiet” whispered jinyoung while forcing his cock down y/n's throat, the gagging sounds making him more horny “you're so talented at cocksucking, truly a whore. you do it better than my girlfriend” he snickered while thrusting his thick cock. 

“never thought i would see you this fucked up” jinyoung was stroking his cock while y/n was laying down panting, trying to catch his breath, with spit and cum covering his face “talking about dirty whores when you can't keep that thing inside your pants. coming here like a needy bitch looking for a hole to fuck”.

jinyoung just stared at y/n with a smirk on his face “i'm not done with you slut, look at this” he pokes his rock hard cock making it bounce a little “i'm gonna wreck your boypussy. come here” his hand snaking around y/n's shorts and discarding them quickly, along with the underwear. “leave me alone whore” y/n tried to push jinyoung with his feet but the bastard was so strong… and sexy.

jinyoung spat on his fingers and rub it on y/n's rim the cold fluid sending shivers up his spine “hngh.. stop it manwhore…” the pleasure clouding his thinking. jinyoung slap his fuckmeat on the rim and slowly introduce it, drawing a loud moan grom y/n due to the stretching “shush be quiet. you don't want someone to find us right? or is that what you want? woah what a pervert” y/n just ignored the comment and sucked on jinyoung's fingers.

“is that all you got, fragile masculinity slut?. not gonna be surprised if your girlfriend kicks you, you suck at fucki-” a slap landed on y/n's cheek. “stop being a loud motherfucker and let me fuck your pussy” his anger being canalized into fucking y/n “i don't give a fuck if you like it or not” he growls “i’m only here to use you like you let other men do”.

“fuck i love the sight of your gaping pussy. after being passed around the whole university is still so tight… even more than my girlfriend's”. “can you stop mentioning her you asshole?. she deserves a better man than you” y/n says, accommodating himself to ride jinyoung “let's get this over with, i want you gone”.

everytime he goes down y/n makes sure to do it hard causing jinyoung to moan very loudly, “look who's the loud bitch now. you call yourself a man and can't even handle me”. jinyoung laughed quickly grabbing y/n by his ankles pulling them towards him folding y/n in the process, his dick going in and out. y/n squirmed, his eyes rolled back and mouth agape, feeling that cock reaching so deep inside him, no other cock has made him feel like that.

“what happened pillow muncher.. too much to handle?” he starts sucking hickeys in the back of y/n's neck. “i'm gonna breed this pussy and after this you're gonna be mine you hear me?” he whispered while flipping y/n a fuck him while he leans on his back “no… i don't belong to.. to anyone not even to a loser like you” the older just ignored it and continued looking for his pleasure.

“guess you're not that straight macho after all” y/n murmured drawing jinyoung's attention, “just because i'm stretching your boypussy and about to cream it right now doesn't make me a homo… i'm straight as a line..”. y/n with his hooded eyes make eye contact with the top, smiled and caressed his cheek “even the straightest line can be curved dumbass” he then kisses his forehead “c'mon cream this fucking pussy… isn't this what you want hurry up before someone wakes up” fucking himself in jinyoung's dick y/n also searched for his pleasure his cock splurting with cum minutes later landing on jinyoung's chest and abs, while that happened he squeezed so hard that jinyoung came without realizing it, emptying his balls in the insatiable hole of y/n. 

jinyoung tried to catch his breath resting his head on y/n's chest falling asleep, followed by y/n minutes later.

the ride back to university was surprisingly quiet, jinyoung didn't say a word about sitting next to y/n, everyone was surprised. one by one they got off the bus with jinyoung and y/n being the last, the tall one grabbed the shorter one by the hand so that he wouldn't come down yet. "i'm going to break up with my girlfriend... what i’m doing with her is not right." "wow, at least there's some empathy inside that empty skull" y/n responded. jinyoung just laughed looking at y/n with a fond smile "sigh... i'm so sorry for what i’ve put you through all these years... i know that's not going to change the damage i've already done but i want to start being a good person… wanna go eat lunch? it's on me".

surprised by the sudden change y/n wondered what happened with him last night “are you okay? did you eat something strange this morning?”. “no fucking asshole i just… i just wanted to change my behaviour… you know if the straightest line can be curved that means that we can change and it's never too late to do it” y/n just stared at him dumbfounded “are you being serious right now? are you philosophizing over a silly phrase i just made up…ugh fucking corny anyways is free food and i can't say no to that so text me where is it and see you there. i guess..” y/n was about to get off but turned around, stood up and pet jinyoung's head, a slight blush covering his cheeks. jinyoung just stood there watching y/n get off the bus with a smile slowly forming in his face.

#jinyoung x male reader #park jinyoung x male reader #jinyoung x male reader smut #park jinyoung x male reader smut #got7 x male reader #got7 jinyoung #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

[hufflegruff]

girl the way i RAN when i saw you asking for requests as a break from a knowing look!!! if youre down to maybe do something like hurt comfort vibes? with sebastian x MC? like mayhaps they’re fighting and MC gets hurt and protective Sebastian comes out? literally in love with everything you’ve written!!! you’re amazing! <3

I was meant to write a drabble but somehow this became a NOVEL?! Good lord. I really wanted to do it justice!!! I hope you guys still enjoy it!!!

It takes a disaster

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Word Count: 5k Contains: Fluff, angst, making out!!! Requested: The lovely @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky had similar requests about protective Seb x hurt MC so I combined both :)

Summary:

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled. She winced at the loudness of his voice.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?” His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing.  She stared at him, mouth agape.  Sorry, was she dreaming? What was that he just said? 

It takes a disaster

When she first resigned to the pitiful fact that she was very likely in love with Sebastian Sallow, she accepted her fate. Doomed to suffer in an unrequited love she held for her best friend. 

Merlin, it was such a cliché. 

Honestly, she would have laughed at herself if it didn’t also feel so pathetically miserable.

Somewhere along the way, amid catacombs and restricted sections and ancient relics, she found herself becoming dissatisfied with just friendship. And before she could even catch herself, she had already fallen. Buried ten feet underground by the weight of her own despicable, cavernous feelings. 

Because they’d been best friends for long enough for her to know that Sebastian Sallow flirted like his livelihood depended on it. If courting witches was a sport, he’d be a professional. It came to him as naturally as breathing. 

That was why Cressida Blume battered her eyelashes so feverishly everytime he was near. And why Samantha Dale had been so Goddamn adamant on being her potions partner, so she could siphon hints on how best to charm the Slytherin for herself.

And why she would never entertain the idea that any of Sebastian’s pretty words could be anything more than lip service. 

So she went out of her way to find reasons to keep herself busy. Taking jobs and doing favours for townsfolk in the vicinity, so that she wouldn’t have to sit with her own feelings. Or Sebastian himself. Hoping that by the time it came for them to leave Hogwarts, that she would find peace and leave her feelings for him in the deepest depths of the castle. 

The distance would help. It just had to. 

Unfortunately for her, when she had said that she was heading to the poacher camp up in the Poidsear coast by her lonesome, Sebastian insisted that he absolutely had to come along.

“Don’t be daft. Of course I have to come with you. Who else is going to swoop in when your sorry arse needs saving?” He teased.

She was almost offended, “I don’t need a babysitter, Sebastian.”

“Not a babysitter,” he clarified, “A knight in shining armor,” with a dashingly flirtatious smile.

She felt her heart flutter, and cursed his annoyingly perfect fluffy hair for it. What business did it have looking so attractive? Honestly, the cheek of these Slytherin boys to say such rousing things.

Ominis, Sebastian and herself had been lazing in the grass in front of the main school grounds. But with a deft wave of his hand Seastian beckoned over his broom, and it zipped obediently over. 

“Come on. Let’s go.” Sebastian said easily.

“What? Right now?” She replied in disbelief.

“Well, I don’t see anything better to do. Do you?”

From beside him, Ominis piped up annoyed, “Um, excuse me. Did we not agree that we needed to finish our group project today so as to not suffer the wrath of Sharp’s horrid temper?”

Silently, she thanked Ominis for the diversion and prayed Sebastian would take it.

“Like I said. Nothing better to do.” Sebastian reiterated shamelessly. 

Ominis rolled his eyes, “Absolute moron you are. Whatever. Take him off my hands for all I care.”

Well that didn’t go at all the way she hoped.

“But I’ve… not even stocked up on my potions.” She said weakly.

Sebastian wasn’t having it.

“Come on, it’s just a routine poacher clear out! I’ve got a couple of Wiggenwelds on me. You know it’s going to be a cakewalk for the both of us.” 

She could never say no to him. Not when he looked at her like that. She imagined that most girls couldn’t either. An ugly, decrepit feeling bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. But she willed herself to push the unhelpful thought down and out of sight. 

“Fine.” She caved with a haughty flip of her hair, “But try to keep up. I don’t want to have to take care of you out there.”

In a ridiculously exaggerated display of chivalry, he offered her his hand and led her onto the broom with a coy smile.

“Ladies first.”

This boy was going to be the death of her. The ride to Poidsear would all but confirm that. 

Sebastian had insisted that she sit in front of him to steer — and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how she had willingly agreed to put herself in this position. His breath was right in the crook of her neck, and his warm hands were wrapped all too tightly around her waist. Did he really think that she could steer like this? She was appalled at how totally inconsiderate he was by being so oblivious to her feelings. 

She could hardly hear her own thoughts — not even the intrusive ones — let alone focus on the fly.

Was he doing this on purpose? Because it was annoying.

The singularly, most vexing thing he could do in fact. She had a mission to concentrate on. She didn’t need to be sidetracked. She hadn’t even wanted him and his distracting face to come along in the first place.

“Merlin. Hold me any tighter and I might burst, Sebastian.” She tried her best to make it sound casual. With the light cadence of a joke, and not the high stakes affair it felt like.

“Well, I can’t risk having you falling to an untimely death under my watch. I’d never hear the end of it from Ominis. Or Samantha. For killing her potions partner at such a crucial time in the academic year,” He joked. 

His tone was teasing, but she hated that his words sounded so… carefree. Completely unbothered. It bruised her heart more than she liked to admit, but it hurt her to know that he probably thought that this was the same as being in close proximity to Anne. 

And why the bloody hell did he have to mention Samantha Dale at a time like this? Unprompted and all. Teenage boys really had no tact. If that had been a glimpse into Sebastian’s mind, she didn’t want to see it. Lock it up and throw away the keys and unleash it into the depths of the black sea to never be found. 

If she just ignored it, and never faced it head on, maybe her heart would break a little bit softer. 

“Right.” She replied curtly, willing the dejection she felt to go away.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No.” 

He paused in contemplation, before declaring, “You’re upset.”

He had said it so matter of factly she almost couldn’t disagree with him. Almost. She cursed herself for not being able to hide the bitterness in her voice better. She cursed him for noticing this of all things.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not.” She retorted harshly.

When the words left her mouth, she quickly regretted them. She felt guilty for how unnecessarily rude it sounded. But she couldn’t talk about this. There was objectively no good way to explain why she seemed so irrationally bothered without emotionally vomiting her feelings onto him.  

But before she could apologise, he chose to let it go. 

And she didn’t know if she felt relieved or even more devastated.

The rest of their journey to Poidsear was endured in silence. When they finally arrived, they landed just at the precipice of the poacher camp. It was time to get serious, she mentally chided herself. There was simply no time to torment herself with such frivolous nonsense.

They kept out of sight behind a mountain of crates next to a tent. Making sure to stay hidden, she briskly surveyed the scene. She could see from the corner of her eye, a family of hippogriffs chained in cages by the Eastern front. But getting to them would be no easy feat; the area was littered with Ashwinders at every corner. 

“God. There’s more of them than I thought.” She whispered to herself.

“Worried? How very unlike you.” Sebastian raised a brow in response.

“Not at all. It’s just you would think that these degenerates would have more productive things to do with themselves than taking magical creatures as prisoners.” She whispered with a scoff.

She had not even one ounce of respect for the Ashwinders, especially those of the poaching variety. Those who made a nefarious career out of hunting innocent, majestic creatures for blood sport were the worst of them.

To her surprise, when she turned to look at Sebastian, he was looking straight at her with an enigmatic smile.

And then suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

“What?” She whispered nervously.

Sebastian murmured warmly, “This is a little nostalgic is it not?”

“How so?”

“You. Me. The exhilarating thrill of getting caught at any moment. Feels like fifth year doesn’t it?” His voice was lower than usual, quieter, with a hint of something dastardly alluring. 

It made her heart skip an alarming amount of beats and her skin shiver at the sound of it. She felt an outrageously girlish impulse to snog him and hex him and run far, far away from him all at once. What she would give for him to have a taste of his own medicine. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, maybe she still could grab him by the collar and kiss him silly until his lips were bruised. 

Maybe that would finally fluster him. 

Because by God, he deserved to be put in his place for all the bloody grief he unknowingly gave her.

He was looking at her so affectionately, and that was just so uncalled for. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed to flirt so skilfully even in the face of imminent danger. In the near vicinity of bloodthirsty dark wizards. If she wasn’t so conflicted by it all she would be impressed. She imagined that Sebastian Sallow could probably flirt with Death himself and get away with it. 

Perhaps that would be a rather useful quality in an Auror. Perhaps, when they were back in the safety of the castle, she would suggest it as a fitting career path for him—

“Look what we have here. A little far from Hogwarts aren’t we?”

She felt her blood freeze over at the sound of the new voice. Sebastian stiffened. A sinister chill ran up her spine.

When she turned, she was greeted by the menacing smile of an Ashwinder, cloaked in shadows. And almost as if the Hermes had struck her himself, the girl wonder retaliated at reckless speeds and pointed her wand with venomous hostility at the dark wizard in front of them.

Fuck. She cursed internally. Her guard had been irresponsibly down. She hadn’t even heard him approach them.

Sebastian probably sensed her panic, and squeezed her hand twice.

Once to comfort her, the second to ask her to follow his lead.

Raising his hands up in mock surrender, Sebastian said sardonically with a wry smile “Sir, we were just passing by the area. We didn’t know that this was private property. Terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you allow us, we’ll be on our way now.” 

The Ashwinder scoffed, “Save it kid, I know exactly who you two meddlesome brats are.”

“Oh well that’s unfortunate.” Sebastian said patronisingly.

Her grip on her wand tightened. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but she knew that she had to be ready. 

“Why’s that?” The Ashwinder asked with a laugh.

“Because that means I have to do this.” 

And suddenly, with a swift motion, Sebastian lunged forward with his wand. And almost as if by blind, brazen instinct, her own hands followed suit. 

“Confringo!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

Red, green, and blue. The colours of their spells cackled at lightning speeds against the howling wind. 

But soon enough their commotion caused a ruckus, and it became an army against two measly bodies.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed under his breath.

And frankly, she had to give it to them to their credit, these Ashwinders proved to be pretty formidable adversaries. They moved faster than the others did. And their spells missed her more narrowly than they normally did. But still, actually hitting her was the aim. Close enough wasn’t good enough, and she was determined to make sure that they would never achieve it. 

She’d make sure of it — they didn’t call her the girl wonder for nothing. 

Spells collided and echoed around her, the acrid scent of fire filling her nostrils. If peril were a smell, this is what she imagined that it would smell like.

And in the midst of the chaos, without a surge of power erupted from one of the Ashwinders. Like a strike straight out of God’s hand — with a single, severe flash of light — a calamitous spell was unleashed, enveloping the camp grounds in a sheathe of blinding white. 

And when the light became less blinding, she found herself separated from Sebastian. 

Panic welled up within her as she searched the battlefield, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Sebastian!" She called out.

Where was Sebastian?

Fuck. That wasn’t good. She needed to find Sebastian. 

Like insidious tendril vines, fear crept into her veins. Yet she willed the anxiousness in her brain to focus; willed it to calm down. Sebastian was a capable wizard. He could handle a few pesky Ashwinders. 

Just as capable as she was. 

Because with a flick of her wrist, shields shattered and hexes were deflected. With every spell she cast, the wind sang as her curses hit bodies, like a force of nature answering her call. One by one Ashwinders fell under the weight of her unyielding assault. 

But then a piercing hex sliced right through her defences. 

Her protego shattered, and she was thrown backward into a mess of limbs onto the ground. 

“Crucio!”

The sound of the spell sent chills down her spine. It brought her back to the scriptorium. It brought her back to a shadow of Sebastian that she had been trying to forget. 

But before she could run, scream, dive or react — it reached her. 

And just as torturously as it had the very first time she endured it, pain erupted through her body as she was thrown backward, limbs contorting as she crumbled in agony onto gritty soil. Back then, it had felt as if lightning had struck every single nerve ending in her body. This time it felt like she was burning under a flame that was twice as brutal.

The pain was relentless. Her mind screamed for respite, for any brief release from this torture. She clawed at the ground, gripping her nails deep into the dirt, as if seeking solace in the earth itself. But there was no escape. No reprieve.

Through the haze of pain, she caught glimpses of the Ashwinder that had casted the curse. Even through her blurry vision, she could see that they were gloating. Content at how they had reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, broken vessel.

And God, that pissed her off immensely.

If they could sense the literal thunder in her veins, she wondered if they would be so cavalier?

She didn’t think so.

Through gritted teeth; through sheer determination, she struggled onto her feet with her body shaking in defiance. Summoned the last remnants of her ancient magic, her wand trembling in her shaky hand. A surge of energy flowed through her veins. The air above the tips of her fingers crackled with raw power as she channeled her magic, focusing it into a singularly devastating spell.

And when it hit the Ashwinder, it eviscerated them in waves.

In between all the fighting and screaming and surviving, she didn’t remember much of the details.

But all of a sudden, it was silent. 

And all of the sudden, it was just her standing alone in plumes of dust.

When the air finally settled down, she felt herself start to cave. The adrenaline had done its job and was quickly leaking out of her blood stream. As if she had exerted and drained every last ounce of her spirit and was on the verge of collapse.

Was it just her, or were the skies starting to fade?

The pain in her chest was still excruciating. This cruciatus curse felt different from the one that Sebastian had casted on her before. 

This one was lingering. 

Like it was clawing onto her heart and gripping onto it in a chokehold with a resentful vengeance. Despite having just won, she didn’t have a spare moment to feel relieved. The pain was quickly growing and air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs fast enough.       

But Sebastian… Where was Sebastian? The panic began to rumble within her. She had foolishly let her own guard down, and let him out of her sight. She mustered what little energy she had left and moved her head frantically in search of him. 

How could she ever forgive herself if she let him die? 

But when she saw a figure barreling head first towards her, even through blurry eyes and the crackle in the depths of her tired limbs, she knew that it was him. And like an oasis in the blistering desert, the comfort she felt from seeing his face was a brief solace to the pain. 

If this was where she was destined to meet her end, she hazily deliberated, at least she could draw her last breath in peace knowing that he was safe. 

(Not to be dramatic or anything.)

When Sebastian finally caught up to her, he laughed and bursted out breathily, “Merlin… Whatever you and your ancient magic did back there was insane.”

He was safe, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for a conversation, let alone banter. She needed to preserve her last scraps of her battered stamina to make it back to the castle and patch herself up in solitude.

And one thing was for certain: Sebastian could not know.

“I think we managed pretty well.” He said with a tired smile.

“Yeah,” she replied breathily, “W-we did good.”

She sounded a mess. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

To her dismay, the look on his face immediately switched into that of deep concern. 

He interrogated hurriedly, “What wrong? You sound a little off. Are you hurt?”

Everything was wrong. The discomfort that gripped her chest was getting worse with every passing second. Standing was starting to become too taxing of an undertaking for her. 

But needless to say, she didn’t want another thing to worry about, and Sebastian would always make an unnecessarily big fuss anytime she was hurt. Even if it was just a minuscule scratch. He was always too distraught; too tender. It was one of the things she adored most about him. 

And she absolutely loathed him for it.

So her stubbornness was persuaded that suffering in silence was the easier of two fates. 

Indignantly, she retorted, “How rude. I’ll have you k-know I’m perfectly f-fine.”

Her words were starting to slur, not that she noticed. But Sebastian clearly had. Assertively, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him.

“You’re not fine.” He declared demandingly.

As he frantically searched her eyes, arms, back, legs for signs of what was wrong, she found herself nuzzled in the nook of his chest. She felt her willpower wither slightly in his flustered hands. 

In the shallow breaths that she took, she could smell him. The musk of pinewood and sputtering fireplaces and late nights drifting in the restricted section. An aromatic cocktail that was overwhelmingly intoxicating. 

Now she was getting angry. And drowsy. And dizzy. Why couldn’t Sebastian tell that he was being so selfish by being so considerate? He needed to stop touching her so carelessly. She was lightheaded enough as it is, she didn’t need his excessive gentleness to add fuel to the flames of her absurd delusions. 

But maybe if she just closed her eyes and rested for this brief moment. Sebastian would take the hint and just leave her be. Maybe all she needed was a quick lie down and he would see that she was perfectly fine. 

“Oh fuck, there’s so much blood— hey, hey!”

She could see Sebastian calling out her name, but she couldn't hear it. And soon enough she realised, she wasn’t fighting it anymore. And soon enough, Sebastian was no longer in sight. Soon enough, she found herself alone in a quiet, soothing darkness. 

Something was twisting at her to give into slumber. Into solitude. Into emptiness. She vaguely remembered from one of Sharp’s more riveting lectures that when poisoned - one should always fight the urge.

But she could still feel the warmth of Sebastian’s hands on the small of her back, and the comfort of it lulled her to relinquish control. After a few ambivalent moments, drifting in and out of awareness, she surrendered to sleep.

When she woke, she was greeted by a horrendously pounding headache. She had no sense of place, but a low groaning ache in her bones. Her eyes struggled to open, but she could feel the warm sun on the tip of her nose, and the tips of her cheeks. The softness of the sun quelled a little bit of the soreness in her body. 

She deduced that wherever she was, it was warm and safe. Despite the ache in her bones, there was also a weightlessness to her body. Therefore, she somehow rationalised with herself that this was very likely heaven. 

Or any other religious equivalent afterlife. 

She wasn’t picky. Any one would do, really.

When her bleary eyes finally pulled themselves open, the fragmented parts of her vision pieced together a faint picture. Of pristine white linen and crisply casted grey brick. A peculiar blend of sickly artificial peonies and concentrated chemicals flooded her nostrils. 

Which was odd. Because she hadn’t imagined that the afterlife would feel quite so sterile.

“Fucking hell,” spoke a voice she could never not recognise, and she was shocked. 

Did heaven include conjuring up a phantom Sebastian from the figment of her deepest imaginations to keep her company for the rest of eternity?

“Sebastian?”

“You’re awake.” His voice was hoarse.

When her eyes finally focused, she saw him properly. It was definitely Sebastian Sallow, the boy that had her heart leaping acres across the Hebridean seas. But in all her years of knowing and pining for him, she’d never seen him look so terrible. His hair was disheveled as if it had endured a torrid storm. His eyes were heavy and solemn, as if they had tolerated an eternity of grief.

This seemed all too real. Too visceral. 

Maybe this wasn’t heaven.

“Am I dead?” She thought to confirm.

He laughed a humourless laugh.

“No. You’re in the hospital wing.”

So this was real. She was in pain because her body had been bruised like a peach. 

When she finally looked around, she found herself neatly tucked into the covers of an infirmary bed. She couldn’t recall how she got here, and only remembered a few little scraps of the event that led up to Poidsear. But if she had to be certain of anything, Sebastian must’ve brought her back to the castle.

“I guess that makes sense,” She said with as much mirth as she could muster, “Heaven couldn’t be this quaint.”

Clearly Sebastian hadn’t found it funny at all, which is why she was met with silence. 

As she cleared her throat, she asked, “What happened?”

For some reason, Sebastian was doing everything in his power to avoid her eye. 

“An Ashwinder hit you with a modified version of the cruciatus curse. She tampered the spell and combined it with a blood poisoning hex. You… could’ve died.” He said through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he struggled to even get the words out. 

In an attempt to diffuse the graveness of his tone, she made a joke.

“Unlucky. Maybe next time they try to kill me they’ll actually get it right.”

But once again, Sebastian didn’t laugh. If anything, he only got more aggrieved. She felt his grip on the edge of her bed frame tighten so fiercely, she could see his veins pop and his knuckles turn red. He was being so serious — and she was not at all used to serious Sebastian. She had only seen this side of him once or twice, and only ever because of Anne. 

“Are you … upset?” She asked cautiously.

“I’m fucking furious.” He said. 

She was gobsmacked.

“Why?”

Finally, he looked at her straight on and her stomach flipped at the sight of it. He looked absolutely distraught. Like the splintered shell of a boy who had been cracked open and drained dry of his will to live. Behind the hard look in his eyes, radiated something cloudy, tempestuous and devastating. 

“It was my fault that we were even there.” He said

She hadn’t known that a voice could carry such grief and anger simultaneously. But Sebastian’s voice was laced with insurmountable despair. And it broke her heart irrevocably to think that she could’ve caused him so much pain.

Did he think that he was to blame?

That was ridiculous.

“I thought-” he started to say again, but his voice cracked. 

I thought I lost you? I thought I’d left you for dead? She wondered if that was what he was going to say.

“Sebastian…” She finally began “It’s not-”

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled.

She winced at the loudness of his voice. 

“I didn’t think-”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?”

His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing. 

She stared at him, mouth agape. 

Sebastian himself looked shocked by the words out of his own mouth. 

Sorry, what was that he just said? 

Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Had Sebastian Sallow really said that he loved her? Her? Complicated, chaotic, haphazard her? Even if her brain couldn’t quite process what she was saying, her heart had certainly understood. It was battering against her ribcage so firmly that she swore it would no sooner burst out of her chest.

“You… love me?” Even as the words sat in her mouth, even as she tasted it meticulously on the edge of her tongue — she still couldn’t believe them. 

With his head buried in his hands, Sebastian groaned. 

Obviously that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, and that terrified the living shit out of her. He looked as if he considered going back on it. Saying that it had just been an emotional slip of the tongue. 

But to her surprise, he stood firm. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, “Isn’t it fucking obvious?”

His words still weren’t fully sinking in. Her brain was running so fast that it was on the verge of failing her entirely. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Was it obvious? To who exactly? By what egregious definition? And did he expect her to just take his word and say that this little detail was always hidden in plain sight for her to find? 

Then there were other more intrusive thoughts she couldn’t shake. Like what about all the girls that fawned over his every word. What about all the other girls that were softer, prettier, more endearing than her? She just hoped that whatever she chose to say, that she wouldn’t let out the intrusive ones first.

“...What about Samantha?” She blurted practically incoherently.

Oh Merlin. Why did she say that? Why was that the first thing she said to him after she had just been on the verge of death? After he had just confessed his love for her.

Never had she felt so exasperated with herself for being so dumb.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian looked at her as if she’d just grown three heads. She also considered that maybe she had enunciated so poorly that he hadn’t understood a single thing she said. Either way, just as she was about to laugh it away - change the subject - he responded.

“... What about Samantha?”

Suddenly, she felt too shy to ask. But she knew she had to follow through.

“... You’re not in love with Samantha?” She asked meekly.

Sebastian stared at her in absolute disbelief. 

“Are you crazy?” he began incredulously, “You think I fancy Samantha Dale?”

It wasn’t that crazy of a thought, she wanted to retort. 

But before she could even get a word in, Sebastian bulldozed on.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve mentioned her name all but three times in the last six years I’ve been in this castle. All I talk about is you all day everyday, which makes Ominis go absolutely livid! All you have to do is say my name and I’d stop everything at the drop of a fucking hat to do literally anything you ask for me—” 

Did he know what he was saying? She wanted to scream. The feelings in her chest were so intense she feared that she might just throw up. 

Could he hear the absolutely ludicrous and inconceivable things coming out of his silly mouth? Did he know what in Salazar’s name he was saying to her? 

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“—I look for you in every hallway, every classroom, every corner in this bloody castle! For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even begin to fathom how you could not know that I’m stupidly love with you—”

Despite herself. Despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Despite the stitches in her lungs. She lunged her body forward and pushed her own chapped, split and desperate lips onto his.

And when their lips met — good God. 

She had no idea how she had waited so long to do this.

And she hoped for his sake that Sebastian hadn’t said any of that lightly, because now that she had finally had him, she was never ever letting him out of her shaky, unpracticed hands. 

At first, Sebastian had been taken aback. His mouth unmoving, eyes open in disbelief. It was as if he was observing the scene from outside of himself.

But then soon enough — he was all in, and he had his hands cupping the curve of her cheek to pull her closer to him. Soon enough, Sebastian was kissing her like he was looking for something. Pushing, pulling, scouring the shape of her mouth like she was a puzzle to be deciphered. Gripping tightly onto the sides of her waist and the small of her back like she was a prized to be possessed.

And she obliged. 

Whatever he wanted to know she’d tell him. If she were a prize, she'd use every cheat every ruse in her arsenal to make sure he'd win.

She just hoped that her needy moans conveyed her willingness to be compliant in his competent hands.

Her limbs ached, her bones groaned. This kiss was too wild, too strenuous, too demanding for her worn out body. But she didn’t care. The floodgates had opened now, whether either of them knew it, and this feeling was unquenchable. 

He tasted like home and aftershave and salt and all those silly peppermint candies he ate all the time. If she could fasten herself to him with an irreversible stitch, she would. If she could seal herself into a perfect mould of his arms, she would. If the shivers that raced down her spine could etch themselves permanently into her nerve endings in her skin, she’d gladly bear the mark.

In between peppered, sloppy kisses, she managed to gasp, "I'm in love with you too."

There was no time for pauses. She had no use for breathing; no use for air. She had no use for anything that didn’t include his lips. 

His laugh was gravelly and tired and breathy. But it was filled with relief and tenderness all the same.

“Thank fucking god,” Sebastian murmured.

Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling into the strands of his. She revelled in the texture of him. In her daydreams and her undisclosed fantasies, she had always wondered what it would feel like. Would he be as gentle as his charms implied? Or was he as abrasive as his words could be?

But despite his devouring intensity, despite how ardently he consumed her — everything about Sebastian was soft. His lips were soft. His body was soft. His hands were soft.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. Which immensely disappointed her. And she wasn’t shy to let it show on her face.

"Be careful. You're still recovering." He managed to get out, but it was weak.

Yes, that was true. It was very lovely and sensible of him to say.

But frankly, she couldn't give two fucks.

"I wouldn't mind dying today," she replied breathlessly, her voice laced heavily with longing.

He groaned into the edge of her mouth, "Way too soon."

She smiled wryly. Was it wicked of her to take delight in how protective he was being?

Silence hung in the air. 

"Please just... just be careful next time?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.

She looked into his eyes, "I will."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she hoped that he knew that she truly meant it. That by definition, her feelings for him meant that her assurance was very much real. Because if not with words, she needed him to know through this gesture that she too looked for him in every inch of this castle. That she too would drop everything at his beck and call.  

He squeezed her hand back in return.

Message understood?

“And as much as I’d love to keep kissing you," he whispered with a playful glint in his eye, "I would hate for Nurse Blainey to shun me from the infirmary for so shamelessly accosting one of her patients."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the tension easing between them. "You're right. We wouldn't want that," she replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

—

A/N: This is deffo a little different from the normal soft/simpy Seb that I write. I tried to go for overly flirtatious and wildly charming Seb and a pining MC this time to shake things up!! I still think they're cuties.

Gosh, I hope you guys liked it!! I'M STILL WORKING ON OTHER REQUESTS and of course my bb A Knowing Look! They will be taking a while but I promise I will be putting my heart and soul into them.

xoxo gruff

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagines #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #requests

[moodymisty]

Listen I know the wall husbands heads are full of concrete but I'm interested in what you could do with a black templar

Maybe having a cleric darling (Thinking more of a lay person vs someone like a sister of battle) so there can be some delicious religious subtext

But I also know some black templars are very much into seeing when normal baseline humans can overcome the odds and rise above with their own zeal.

Maybe she isn't a combatant but by the God Emperor she will help out however she can even if it is just passing him boltgun magazines.

I got ideas for Black Templars but they're all over the place! Maybe you can make more sense of my ramblings and since it's still on the brain it could be Yandere or not just however you can make a Black Templar with a Darling work

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: So... I went apeshit. I apologize. I just fucking love doing religious subtext and whatnot. Also the frail maiden with her knight. Combining them? Awooga. Like this is my dream prompt. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

Relationships: Unnamed Black Templar/Fem!Reader (there aren't pronouns used but the lady/knight vibe is super intense)

Warnings: A smidge lewd but not NSFW, Vague traditional gender roles-like talk (being gentle/needing to be protected etc), Religious under(over)tones, Forbidden romance undertones, Vague yandere/yandere beginnings, Armor kink if you squint, Brief mentions of blood and murder, General 40kness

Word Count: 2209 oops uwu

Ceramite boots thud against the floor like the thunder overhead, echoing in the high, vaulted ceilings.

He hears a tile crack underneath his right boot as he shifts his weight onto it mid-step.

He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.

'Leave him, he’s off to go for his prayers, and to stalk the locals.’

His one battle brother had laughed at the other’s comment, as he left them all behind to return to the cathedral. It's far from his first time here, in these sanctified halls. He finds himself returning here after almost every patrol, every outing, every moment alone.

His armor shifts with his movement, and he rolls his left shoulder during his walk. He’s had the armor fixed after a stray round hit him in the shoulder, but it still feels off. Like the motion is ever so slightly delayed in comparison to his other interface ports.

He'll get it looked at again. For now he has a different pursuit.

It’s the dead of the night, moon high in the sky as he walks through the nave past pews filled with nothing but air. At this time of night he knows it will only be you here, keeping candles lit and rolling scrolls. A stray servoskull might flutter past every now and again, but other than that, you remain in complete solitude.

No distractions, no needless fluff. You're always busy, fluttering about, making yourself useful where you can. You aren't able to fight, not this threat, but your obedience in cleaning armor- weapons when an Astartes allows- and other such duties has earned you enough to stay where your fellows have left.

Many of the other human refugees have been shipped off at this point, to become the Militarium's logistical problem. You and a few others however have earned your keep. At least in the eyes of the Black Templars.

You'll be far safer here than in a Militarium camp stuffed in with hundreds to thousands of others; Like animals waiting to be shipped off world.

You'll be far safer here with him.

There you are. He can spot you from across the cathedral, and a part of him wonders why it has such an effect on him. His hearts beat faster and his neck tenses; It feels like how he does whenever he's about to fight, but also distinctly different. It almost makes him feel like he's sick from an illness he can't explain.

The moment you hear him however, knowing the sound of an astartes this late and this far away from his brothers could only be him, your back straightens. You've been leaning over for awhile, and your body makes uncooperative cracks as you stand at his approach.

He stops in front of you, at the bottom of the ambulatory steps that rise up to the main altar. You stand at the top of them, quickly moving aside so he can come closer. When he does, you can feel his gaze through the lens of his helmet. It always feels heavy, even when his helmet isn't tilted you way you swear you can feel whenever his eyes are on you.

With both hands he unseals his helmet with a soft hiss, grasping it by the rim before handing it to you. It’s almost too heavy for your grip, but you manage to hold it close to your chest and avoid dropping it. Meanwhile he takes a knee, elbow on his knee as he drops his head in prayer.

His chainsword shifts on his back, over top of a long, tattered cape that's stained with mud and blood at the bottom hem. Astartes don't leave their armor during war, and so the cloth holds the weeks long stench of iron and rotting flesh. It simply burns however, until a few minutes later and then you can no longer smell. For the best, more than likely.

The cathedral is cast in complete silence, his shoulders shifting underneath plates of ceramite. He always is whenever he prays, unlike his brothers in the few times you've seen them. Perhaps it's just a quirk of his. Or maybe they're the odd ones.

Then again, they aren't the ones visiting an empty cathedral in the dead of night, only to meet a single person. Over and over again.

When he rises, he gently takes his helmet from your hands and latches it onto his belt. You speak up for the first time since he appeared.

"Have you made good progress out there? The weather seems to only be getting worse."

He looks down at you; His short, hastily chopped hair dry and pressed in odd places from the pressure of his helmet. It's mostly dry now, but you can tell it was wet not long ago. He must've taken his helmet off in the rain and was instantly soaked to the bone.

"The Emperor watches over us. We will prevail despite the deluge."

Said deluge batters on the tall glass windows of the cathedral, and thunder cracks not much later. The sound gives you a momentary jolt. This particular storm has been going all day, but the area has been battered with rainstorms for weeks now on and off. It might not slow them down, but you can see dried chunks of mud where they've had to trudge through it to progress. Most of it is washed away on him now, the rain having cleaned his armor significantly.

Your hands grasp each other tightly, no longer having his helmet to act as some sort of grounding.

"I tried to pray like you do, this morning." His eyes noticeably brighten ever the slightest, as your voice echos in the empty cathedral. "I wanted to pray to the Emperor that you stayed safe out there."

You don't know if he finds it amusing; But the corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly anyways.

"Then pray for our victory, not our safety. What matters is that we succeed," He states.

You hear the mechanics in his armor shift as he leans slightly more on his left leg than right. It's like the armor is simply an extension of himself, and you suppose it is.

He is the first astartes you've even seen, so your knowledge is sparse. A small part of you has so many questions you'd wish to ask him, not knowing if he'd even entertain you with an answer.

You're fascinated by him; You wonder if he thinks the same of you. The way he acts lends you to think so, but you don't know how to feel about it.

In the corner of your eye you notice movement, and turn to the right just a bit and see someone walking across the nave. But when they catch sight of you and one of the Black Templars, the scurry out of the main hall like death was on their heels.

It isn't the first time someone has made a conscious effort to avoid you, now that you have an astartes taking such an interest in you. People are keen to spend as little time around them as possible- as despite them being the primary source protecting you all, they have more than displayed their fickle nature. One misspoken word and you could be gone. It's happened before. You know of a few faces that have disappeared with little a word.

You must look away from him for too long, as suddenly his armored hand grasps your jaw, turning your face back to him. The awkward angle due to his height makes your neck ache, and you grasp at the seams of his gauntlet for any sort of support.

"Are you going to try and run like they did?"

He says, watching you like he's looking for something more than a simple answer.

You wonder what he sees. If he notices the way your heart has begun to race in fear and something else, as he overtakes your vision. That something else was only for those rare moments of solitude where your reasoning left you, and your mind wandered to areas it shouldn't. If you'd known any better, you might've thought such things were blasphemous, or something of the sort.

Suddenly, you remember that he's waiting for an answer; You watch as the scars on his face move when he shifts his jaw.

"No."

He takes a step closer and with no more room your back presses against the altar just behind you. You risk nearly bending over it from how close he is, his dominant leg taking root just close enough that your legs have to part to let his knee past.

The shadow of the window mullions decorate the back of his armor, the light making the shadows against his face even harsher. You can even see the shadows of large rain droplets against his pauldrons, sliding down as if they've actually fallen on him. You can hear them hit the glass as the wind whistles outside and rattles the glass.

You watch him wondering; His eyes and face are completely unreadable. Astartes are so stoic, any little emotion is held invisible deep within themselves. Trying to figure out what he's thinking is an impossible task, though it's clear the interest he has in you is no longer just curiosity. That thought makes your heart pound against your chest as if it's trying to escape, your blood hot.

His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

It feels like he's toying with you; Experimenting with something new as he watches the way your soft skin gives under his armor. Your hands and gentle skin have faint crumbles of candle wax and ink on them from your work, as they grasp his armor.

You're terrified. You want more of him. You'll be happy to burn if that's what it requires.

"You'll come with me, when we are finished here."

You whisper his name, telling him yes as if you were foolish enough to think you had a choice in the matter. No one but him is here to hear it.

If someone was you wouldn't be able to see them from the way his massive armored form overtakes almost all of your vision, swallowing you in a sea of shadow and pitch black armor. They would see as he leans down, his thumb leaving your lips. You can feel his hot breath on your skin. The way he almost seems to suffocate you with how much of his body looms over you, just to get close. You can hear your own heartbeat so you just know he can, his eyes dilated and nearly total black.

Your back hurts pressing against the edge of the altar, feeling vulnerable underneath his unreadable stare. The fabric of your clothing bunches in places and rises up on your body, catching on the seams of his leg plates. His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.

His lips hover over yours, brushing as if he's so thoroughly detailing every step of this. Savoring each moment, or perhaps just toying with you. Watching the way a human so much smaller than him writhes under his grip at his mercy. You want to finish it, but the hand clamped around your jaw won't allow you, as much as you want to yearn and beg and plead to k-

'Brother. Return from toying with the refugees, the chaplain has returned with an update.'

Suddenly audible is a deep voice shaken by vox distortion emanating from his helmet; His head turns ever so slightly in it's direction. The bow of his upper lip brushes over yours as he does so. His brow furrows and he seems visibly irritated, interrupted during the worst possible time. You are as well, though it's more of desperation as you try to silence the way the your body aches for just him.

But as quick as it had begun it all ends, as he rises to his full height and removes his hand from your jaw. It complains with the promise of a hefty bruising, as he uses the same gauntlet to one handed slip his helmet back onto his head.

You can feel him stare at you even through the lenses, as he shifts in his armor and walks past where you stand splayed against the altar, clothes a mess. Your legs wobble as if about to give out from underneath you without his support, a weight like a rock in your lower belly.

He walks down the ambulatory in silence and leaves you alone once more, but you know it won't be for long.

#if you want me to name him and design him feel free to say! but for now you can make him the astartes ken doll of your dreams #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #black templar x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Favorite Books I Read in 2023

I read a ton of good novels last year- 36 in all (and uh, 78 manga/graphic novels, but we'll examine that in another post). Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.  

I reread a ton of Discworld this year, and it's as spectacular as ever. But what about new reads?

Well, here are my favorite books I read in 2023!

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado

This is an autobiographical memoir about the abusive relationship the author went through with her ex-girlfriend. It's absolutely gut-wrenching, and at times, achingly beautiful. Machado uses the house she shared with her girlfriend, which she calls the "dream house", as a back drop. It's a place she always wanted and also a place she became trapped in, Machado's language is beautiful as she explores the relationship from different lenses-- The Dream House as Lesbian Cult Classic, the Dream House as Noir, the Dream House as Creature Feature, the Dream House as Stoner Comedy....All facets of the relationship are explored in a way that grips you by the throat and makes you remember everyone who ever tried to suffocate you-- but it also explores the hard work of moving on, of picking up the pieces, of living and embracing tenderness along with hardship.

I especially related to Machado's struggle to talk about abuse between queer lovers because of her fears of giving homophobes more ammunition...and when she says "we deserve to have our wrongdoing represented as much as our heroism, because when we refuse wrongdoing as a possibility for a group of people, we refuse their humanity", I felt that deeply.

This wasn't just one of my favorite books this year, it goes on the list of all-time favorite books. I wish I had this kind of writing style. I'll be returning to this again and again.

Zachary Ying and the Dragon Emperor by Xiran Jay Zhao

A middle-grade novel about a Chinese-American teen who feels a bit alienated from his heritage, which becomes a bit of an issue once he finds out the First Emperor of China has possessed his A.R. Gaming Headset. Now he needs to close a portal to the underworld with the help of other kids possessed by emporers.

This was a whole lot of fun, and often quite poignant. I was unsure if I could really enjoy middle-grade books as an adult, and this absolutely proves I can. There's a lot of really interesting Chinese history blended with action-packed fantasy, and exploration of the complicated feelings a kid can have about their own heritage . The dynamic between Zachary and Qin Shi Huang was so entertaining with the Emperor being villainous, heroic, charismatic, detestable-- and Zachary realizing how his complicated feelings about him mirror his relationship with his culture at large. There was also a lot of fun with other historical figures, and Xiran's take on Wu Zetian is a joy. (Also, if you like Yu-Gi-Oh!, you'll probably like this, since Xiran says it was one of their influences).

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Rose is young woman who's raised in a fundamentalist Christian household, and she's a devout, obedient daughter. But some weird things are happening. She's seeing a terrifying demon everywhere, insects are coming out of her mouth....and she's possibly having feelings about other girls. What's going on?

Yes, this is by the Chuck Tingle who makes all those Tinglers. But THIS one... will make you tingle with fear! It's a great horror novel! It's skin-crawlingly creepy at times, but also does a great job digging into how fundamentalist dogma harms queer people, and the hypocrisy of such beliefs. The conversion camp aspect is handled tastefully, and overall it was a great spooky read that's also ultimately very affirming, cathartic, and hopeful.

Qualia the Purple by Hisamitsu Ueo

You might go into this thinking it's just a quirky yuri light novel about a schoolgirl and her crush who sees everyone around her as robots (like literally, when she looks at someone she sees a robot instead of a human). But it quickly becomes surreal queer psychological horror steeped in absolutely wild applications of quantum mechanics and thought-provoking time travel.  Some of the quantum mechanics  exposition dumps were a bit much but I deeply enjoyed having my mind cracked open by this book. 

It's one of the most interesting takes of time loop stories I've seen. But it definitely covers a lot of rough subject matter, including a relationship with a serious age gap and extremely messed up relationships, so be cautious if you have triggers.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

This book follows Miri, whose wife goes missing on a deep-sea submarine mission for six months. Miri thought her wife dead, but she miraculously returns one day...but her wife has changed. She's like a stranger. She may have bought the horrors of the sea home with her.

This is a gripping exploration of grief and loss combined with a delicious, slow horror that creeps under your skin. There's excellent Lovecraftian and body horror elements to the novel, but it works very effectively as a metaphor for a loved one going through trauma, and a relationship starting to crumble because everything seems different. A moment that really stuck out to me is when Miri copes with her wife's disappearance by frequenting an online community where women roleplay as wives with husbands missing in space. The way the online drama of the community interacted with her grief was  both funny and heartbreaking. 

This is another example of a book that makes me deeply jealous with its lyrical writing, and another one for the ever-lengthening all time favorites list.

Otherside Picnic Volume 8: Accomplices No More by Iori Miyazawa

The latest entry in a series about two girls exploring an alternate dimension full of creepypasta monsters, while also falling in love with each other. See my other reviews here and here.

This volume has the payoff to a lot of careful character work and relationship building, and it was completely satisfying. In fact, it was...show-stopping. Spectacular.  Incredible. I loved the exploration of how love, sex, and romance are so different for different people and it's impossible to put it in neat boxes. The frank and messy conversation our leads have about their relationship was perfect and so was that absolutely  bonkers, wonderful finale. This is another one for the all times favorite list, and I loved it so much I wrote a extremely long review/recap here. 

Queer Ducks (and Other Animals): The Natural World of Animal Sexuality by Eliot Schrefer

This was a well-researched, well-crafted, easy to read book that explores queerness (mainly homosexuality, bisexuality, trans and genderfluid expressions in animals, and even the question of if and how animals can related to gender) in the animal kingdom. Though it's definitely aimed at teens, I learned a lot from it (who knew female bonobos were such life goals) and it presented its information in a fun way. It included some interesting examinations of how proof of homosexuality and bisexuality in animals was historically suppressed and filtered through homophobic assumptions. If you want to learn a little animal science in an accessible format, definitely check this out.

Night’s Edge by Liz Kerin

The story follows Mia, a woman in her 20's living with her vampire mother. Her whole life revolves around not drawing suspicion towards her Mom. She also has to make sure to feed her Mom some of her blood every night--lest her mother fall back in with her abusive boyfriend and start hunting humans.  But when Mia meets a cute girl, she starts to dream of living her own life...

It was a really interesting use of vampirism as a metaphor for both living with a parent struggling with addiction and having an abusive parent. It's just a well-told, heartwrenching tale that got deep into the character's mindsets. I thought the ending was bit abrupt and rushed, but it did make more sense once I realized this was the first in a duology. It's a fascinating take on vampires, and I'm interested in seeing more.

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

This novel follows a middle-aged Muslim female pirate living around the Arabian Peninsula. She's supposed to be in retirement, but wouldn't you know it, she's lured in for one last job! I she rescues a kidnapped girl,  she'll have all the riches she needs to set her family up for life. So Amina begins her adventure of fighting demons and monsters and ex-husbands. But the job might not be all it seems.

This novel is full of all the entertaining swashbuckling action and shenanigans that any pirate story should have. It's a rollicking good time, and feeds my craving for middle aged women going on quests and kicking ass. Amina's journey is a fun, wild ride full of dynamic characters and interesting mythology!

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

Juniper is friends with a successful Chinese-American author, Athena Liu, and has always been deeply jealous of her. When Athena dies in front of her, Juniper decides to steal her manuscript rooted in Chinese history and claim it as her own. But plagiarism might catch up with her...

This is a strong example of a book I thought was really well-done, but one I'm probably never going to read again. The way it depicted Twitter drama is just too accurate and I got anxiety. It did such a good job putting you in Juniper's awful shoes so you can feel the pressure close in along with her. The book's commentary on the insidious racism of the publishing industry was effective, and it made a horrible character's journey fascinating to follow. I was so intrigued yet anxious I had to force myself to finish the last few pages.

Bonus read:

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldtree

A very cute novel about an orc named Viv who decides to retire from the violent life of a bounty hunter and run a coffee shop instead. She ends up getting a lot of assistance from a succubus named Tandri...and my, is that a slow-burn coffee shop romance brewing? This book reminds me a lot of various cozy slice-of-life anime, and it's nice to be getting more of that feeling in book form. I wish there was a little more specific to the fantasy world rather than making it a coffee shop that line up 1 to 1 to a modern day shop, but it was definitely a sweet read.

#year in books #my reviews #our wives under the sea #in the dream house #zachary ying and the dragon emperor #camp damascus #qualia the purple #otherside picnic #queer ducks #night's edge #legends and lattes #the adventures of amina al sirafi #books #queer lit #yellowface #r.f. kuang #xiran jay zhao #carmen maria machado

[mammalsofaction]

HUMAN PERRY AU BACKSTORY

I've been having a lot of thoughts lately about Human Perry headcanons as I read a bunch of fic and rewatch phineas and ferb. You know you're hitting the nail on the head when scenes from a fic you might never write dog your every waking step and haunts your dreams so, I thought putting it on paper will help.

A lot of fics like to suggest that Perry's full name is Peregrine, which is understandable, but ever since I've rewatched 2D and found out their first name for him was actually Bartholomew my life was never the same. So Perry's actual name is Bartholomew. But nobody actually calls him that least of all himself.

FAMILY RELATIONS

-I really like winding headcanons that Perry is Ferb's biological mom's BROTHER, which honestly makes so much sense as to why both he and Ferb have green hair. Here are some add-ons that may get depressing;

Ferb's mom was Eve, or Evelyn. Her codename was E, for Echidna...because egg-laying mammals native to Australia. They were both orphans, and attached to the hip. They were each other's partner in crime.

-They were scouted for OWCA one day, bc the agency liked picking up kids with potential as young as possible. So Perry and Eve were trained for the agency since the start (which is why Perry is such a good agent at what seems to be a young age)

MY HEADCANONS FOR OWCA

-Owca is a largely independent authoritarian enterprise with branches all over the world. They aren't the only ones, obviously.

-OWCA also prefers training agents as early as they could. Sometimes that entails scouting talent. Sometimes that means taking in kids of employed agents. Either way, this means OWCA has elementary and high schools that are more akin to militant training camps. It's not cruel. The kids are well cared for and well fed, but OWCA prioritized competency, obedience and discipline.

On every level of OWCA recruitment, training and employment, there is a fedora, and band to mark whichever level you are on the totem pole.

1) Middle school kids are given a bandless fedora.

2) High school kids (soon to be graduates) are given a white band

3) Fresh graduates, training into full employment, are Yellow Bands. Here you start being assigned to full branches, and trained by field work professionals. Think OWCA Files.

4) It's fairly easy to graduate from Yellow Band into a Purple Band. Purple Bands are largely refereed to as Junior Agents, but that's not quite accurate. Purple Bands are the highest reporting authority in any division that ISN'T FIELD WORK. The OWCA Tech, Clerks, RnD and Science Divisions all have Purple Bands to signify they are fully employed, or Superior Officer. Pinky has a Purple Band.

5) It's VERY DIFFICULT to graduate from a Purple Band to a Black Band, not least because there IS NO PREDETERMINED TEST. Black Band agents are Superior Agents, only one level below Division General. There's no telling what could turn you from a Purple to a Black, because the agent has to prove unwavering obedience and faith to the agency in dire circumstances. It's saying "I am willing to do anything for the Greater Good."  Often it entails a death of some sort. OWCA often says Black is the band soaked in blood. Black Band agents have licenses to kill. It's why Black Band Agents are few and precious far in between.

6) After a black band, and you live long enough to retire, you can choose a bunch of things. Most agents choose to become Division Generals or Branch Managers: think Major Monogram. They're basically glorified "Guy in the Chair". Some agents choose to become educators, in which case they are given White Fedoras. White fedoras arent exclusive to black bands though; there are plenty purple band white fedoras. In fact most educators are purple band white fedoras.

-Perry's Black Band Event was Eve's death

-At the time of Eve's death, she had already been married to Lawrence. Ferb was barely a year old, maybe 10 months old?

-Lawrence was told it was a car accident: drunk driver. Truthfully it was a mission gone wrong, involving an underground child trafficking ring, and she stayed behind to give them all the chance to escape. She didn't have the chance to escape when security explosives around the building detonated, and she got caught in the crossfire. Perry had to leave her behind.

-This is why Perry refused to get a partner btw, aka his Lone Wolf tendencies come from.

-In the aftermath, OWCA agents approached the family to give them their condolences, and offer to take Ferb into the fold. For the first time since Eve's death, Perry practically lost it. He didn't hurt anyone, he's much too professional, but he knew Eve didn't want Ferb to get wrapped up in OWCA, and for good fucking reason. Due to their training, neither he nor Eve had much of a childhood, and he refused to subject Ferb to the same kind of life experience.

OWCA was NOT happy. Things were tetchy for a while, at least until Perry was approached by Major Monogram. Francis had a wife, and a son, and he understood where Perry was coming from. He suggested taking a permanent residence in Danville, which was his branch division. It was more stability than Perry ever had working in England, where he and Eve was originally stationed, and it was easy enough to come up with a work-related story to convince Lawrence, who was more than ready enough to leave the house where he and Eve originally lived.

-It was after moving did Lawrence meet and fall in love with Linda.

Edit; I've decided to change Ferb's bio mom's name bc I found something that fits better to me :) She's Eve now

End Backstory.

#the ending is a bit abrupt but i hope the post was comprehensible #so he did basically help raise Ferb until they moved to the states #and he meets Heinz yadda yadda yadda #I like the flavour of angst in his backstory #and why he enjoys the peace that comes with stability in Danville even despite all the chaos #bc then OWCA doesn't really bother him since he has his hands full actually #I also like giving depth and dimension to Francis #instead of making him just like. This bad guy #Because he didnt want Monty to be a part of OWCA either #perryshmirtz #perry the platypus #human perry au

[geralts-yenn]

Geralt-Yenn's Masterlist

Hi! Thank you for taking a look at my materlist! Here you find a bunch of stories in which I put all kinds of Henry Cavill shaped characters.

Most of these stories contain content not suitable for minors, so if you're under 18, please do not read!

Do not copy, translate or post my work anywhere else! I explicitly forbid using my work to feed AI!

What I do encourage you is to reblog my stories. Every little bit of feedback is welcome!

List by character under the cut:

Your majesty (drabble; VampireKing!August/reader) 🔥

a lesson in obedience (VampireKing!August/reader/ofc) 🔥

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

bonfire (Sy/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: After months you finally see Sy again. But how will he react to you after he cancelled his date before he left?

Something like that (Sy/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: follow-up of bonfire - Sy finally takes you on a date

Part 1, Part 2

mother's day (drabble; Sy/reader) 💕

Yearning (drabble; Sy/reader) 🌩 💕

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

I need you now (Evan Marshall/reader) 💕

summary: After an accident your cute neighbor takes care of you

Brothers and Beers (drabble; Evan Marshall/reader) 💕 (Evan's pov on 'I need you now')

Fighting demons (Evan Marshall/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕 part 2 of 'I need you now'

summary: You've been in a relationship with Evan for a while now, but somehow you are still stuck on first base. You start questioning if he's really that into you.

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

Ray of Sunshine (modern AU Melot/ofc) 🔥 💕

summary: just some fluffy, smutty summer dream with a tattooed biker Melot

Hearts Too Big (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: Nina goes on a camping trip with her boyfriend Mel and his cute neighbor Mike. Plenty of feelings - that’s the whole plot

Bubbles (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Bottom (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

A very merry birthday (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

summary: The boys are celebrating Christmas and more importantly, Nina's birthday

 the natural thing to do  (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: After another breakup, instead of your best friend you only find her brother Mikey at her home. The guy you had a crush on since you were 12…

pranked (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: your babysitter job took some turns that you couldn't have forseen...

caught for sillyrabbit81’s milestone celebration 2023 (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

follow-up of pranked, but both stories can be read separately

date night with Mikey (drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

ice cream, brownies and a hug (drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

Hearts Too Big (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: Nina goes on a camping trip with her boyfriend Mel and his cute neighbor Mike. Plenty of feelings - that’s the whole plot

Bubbles (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Bottom (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Fakin' it (Mikey/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: To win back your ex-boyfriend, you decide to fake date your best friend. What could go wrong? 

Zoom (mini drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

A very merry birthday (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

summary: The boys are celebrating Christmas and more importantly, Nina's birthday

anahita (Napoleon Solo/ofc) 🔥

summary: After a hard job in Isfahan, Napoleon tries to lose some tension in the hamam of his client, the Shah

Memories (Walter Marshall/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: At your brother's wedding you have to face a ghost from your past - Walter Marshall - and you find yourself lost in memories

Part 1, Part 2

Hollow Hearts (Walter Marshall/reader) 🌩 🌩 🌩 (💕)

summary: you break up with Walter but you just can't let go

Hollow Hearts (bonus chapter) (Walter Marshall/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: you and Walter take care of each other (basically porn without plot, can be read without knowing the main story)

Headcanons / multiple characters:

Lazy morning sex 🔥

On-going series:

Inspo boards for my stories

Fluff = 💕 Smut = 🔥 Angst = 🌩

Collection of all my stories - follow to get notifications on new fics:

Yenn-writes

#my masterlist #henry Cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #syverson fanfic #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall #mike (hellraiser) #mikey hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike (hellraiser) fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) fanfic #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker #melot fanfic #melot fanfiction #melot #napoleon solo x ofc #napoleon solo fanfic #napoleon solo fanfiction #evan marshall fanfiction #evan marshall fanfic #evan marshall

[cloudninetonine]

The Hero of the Oracles, was a man that radiated optimism. Despite his pig-like appearance, being the following Ganon of King and the preceding of Famine (not that he didn’t look to the brighter side, but he certainly didn’t radiate it) he was one of the more welcoming Ganons from within the group.

A contrast to your familiar pinky hero- Oracle kept a more positive view on things: to him there was always a solution to any problem, to him there was never any need to fret because to him, everything else was already so much better than what he had faced decades ago.

Similar to the villain Ganon, Oracle was originally a thief after losing his parents to only the goddess knew what at such a young age. He had to fend for himself, he was alone for so long before his first adventure had even begun and he had told you all this quietly amongst the flames of the campfire when you struggled to sleep on one of the many nights that your horrid memories seemed to crawl into your dreams and stain them with terrors beyond you imagination. He didn’t leave out the details and he didn’t sugarcoat any of what he told you- his honesty was nice in a way. These men weren’t perfect. They weren’t even on the side of light, they still served the God Demise and they were only the heroes to keep the balance as their Hylia seemed to strive for “Purification” in her eyes, anyway.

You had decided to tag her as ‘Martinet’, as it perfectly described just how worse she seemed to be.

It seemed the OG Hylia wasn’t all the bad anymore.

Oracle liked to knit, and sew, and crochet, and so much more of the textiles arts you had almost lost count. A thing similar to Legend, Oracle had grown an attachment to the arts after having to repair garments one too many times while on the road. It was a useful skill. A skill that he enjoyed, so it wasn’t rare to see him working on his own little project in the quieter moments- he had even sewed some pretty flowers into your tunic after seeing all the tears!

It was his peace offering at your bumpy beginning.

Oracle couldn’t go into town. Neither could Famine, or Betzalel, or Power or Pestilence- when you looked like a hulking moblin it would make sense to avoid towns like the plague, if you were in a group of moblin looking bastards you knew it would only end bad for you to ever step near civilization. So it made sense, the men staying at the camp to take care of everything while the other men strolled through the people for the journey’s supplies.

You were clutching carefully at Tide’s coat, like a child with his mother, attached at the hip. He didn’t mind though. The man preferred it actually, able to keep a better eye on your smaller form in the crowds- you were so “small” after all, was what Tide argued and, well, he wasn't wrong.

Didn’t stop you from trying to fight him about it.

These moments did give you time to glance around the area. Eyes rolling over the stalls in the markets, ranging from everyday food to magical items for daily use. What an interesting sight it was. Never in your life would you have ever expected to hear a salesman screaming about his “magic wares- good for the husband for his upcoming travel!” What kind of magic item was it? A protection ring? Blessed weapon? Leaning in a little, you tried to spot just what the guy was speaking about.

Only to be tugged along with Tide as he moved to the next stall. Following obediently, you made quick haste in order to keep up with the giant’s massive strides-

When a stall caught your attention. 

Your pause also had the older man stopping, not that your strength did anything but simply due your lacking grip when you turned to face the stall with the assortment of fabrics and crafting materials.

“My child?” He edged closer to the table also, looking over the stock with mild interest. “Is there something that interests you?”

The clerk, a Rito woman, chuckled lightly before her wing gently brushed the table over what you were looking at- the glowing blue fur that dazzled in the light of the evening sun.

“It seems you have grown a likeness to our blupee fur.” At your aghast expression she tutted playfully, “Come now, don’t think of me so cruelly! I would never kill such a beautiful creature! Not that I think there is a possible way to as such….these furs where shaven.”

You looked over them carefully, your hand gently moving over the material- this was reason blupee fur, you could feel the familiar magic of the mountain lord buzz in your hand. “You were able to shave a blupee?”

The bird woman laughed once again, “Me? Goddess no- my father, however, has his own secrets on taming the creatures. The magic of the furs allows for the greatest luck with rupees, adjusts for the environments and blessed with protection”

“Really?”

“Yes, the Lord of the Mountain does flow through each and every one of the creatures.”

You hesitated slightly with your next words, “When you say protection, you mean projection against evil….right?”

Tide’s hand came to gently rest on your back, a gentle reminder that he was here and whatever fear that currently tried to fight to your heart could simply buzz off.

The clerk looked sympathetic, “The furs are known to help in moments of panic, be it against evil or simply lost on a path, the magic will be there to aid you.”

It was certainly promising. As much as you didn’t want to part with your beloved cloak (a gift from Wild- your Wild, a reminder that one day you would return to them, at least you hoped you did…) it was definitely time for an upgrade. And an upgrade that could be handy if you have to deal with….them again, you could take that over sentimental value.

“I’m going to guess these furs do not come cheap?” Tide joked, pulling out his rupee pouch.

“500 rupees is the lowest I would go.”

“I’ve got it.” Tide watched as you pulled out your own coin pouch, balancing 3 silver rupees with a small handful of purples following, “Is there any other fabric that goes good with the blupee fur? Magical or not?”

“Hold on, I have a small deal that comes with the fur- discounts for such lovely customers.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Returning later than evening, Nature had started on dinner as soon as you had all settled down. Priming the pastry top for a nice smelling pie with the goods he had gathered from the market. Your stomach rumbled for the dish, the fire alluring you towards where it cooked on the gentle fire- but it would still take time for such to be ready to feast upon.

Which is why you used the time to approach Oracle, talking animatedly to Famine who listened to his younger self quietly, eyes focused on polish his weapon- his chopped ears twitching in a way which showed his was listening.

“Uh, Oracle.” The two giants faced you, Oracle with interest and Famine in acknowledgment, “Could-...could I ask a favour?”

“Of course!” He replied, lightly with mirth (You didn’t understand how such a kind giant could come from King, but then again King would have been the equivalent to an angsty teen with all his counterparts. “What is it you require? Does it have something to do with the fabrics laid in your hands?”

You felt heat run up your neck, your hands shakily moving towards him “I- I was wondering if you could make me a new cloak?”

“A new one? Put your one this moment is perfect! Why do you wish to part from it?”

You hesitate.

There was a constant fear that nagged right at the back of your mind. Always there, fleeting but present- it would probably never leave you for as long as you continued to live. But maybe, just maybe, there would be a way to hide from it. This cloak was your answer, promised protection from what in the shadows of Hyrule, both monster and not. You needed this, not wanted, but needed to feel safer, even with a placebo effect.

“I don’t want to…I need to.”

Oracle paused, as did Famine. The two shared a look, eyes reflecting a similar look of concern as you continued on.

“The woman at the shop said it’s guaranteed protection and I need- I just- Ganon can you please just-”

A large hand came to rest upon your head, like a giant sun and casting a shadow in your vision that almost blinded you before your locks were ruffled.

“If it is truly needed then I will happily make you another cloak.” Taking the the materials he looked over them in interest, whistling lowly “Such rich fabrics- it must have cost you an ear or two.”

“....are you sure you’ll be able to make it? Do you need other tools?”

“You doubt my skills?” he joked, going through his bag to pull out some items you did not recognise, “I could create the most majestic of cloth with my eyes closed, my dear, there isn’t a need to worry.”

…you trust him, why would he lie after all?

Walking closer, you move to sit next to the man but Famine tugs you into your arms and places you right on his shoulders instead. It’s your seat now, if you’re not walking with the men your on one of their shoulders- they didn’t mind though. Your weight to them was like a empty rucksack over their shoulders, weighing almost nothing on the expanse of their build.

Crossing your arms, you laid them to rest upon the head of Famine as you watched Oracles hands move- skilled and precise.

In the following few days you would have a new cloak, dazzling in the sunlight and just the added protection to what stalked you in the burrows of the bush. It would not laid rest the fear that kept true to you but at least you would have that added relief to it all.

Oracle’s hands moved so smoothly.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #linked universe #lu #player au #a player's aid #mess au

[campdreamfanzine]

Art by the lovely @nobledragonflying !

#dsmp #quackity #art #dreamsmp au #dreamwastaken #dreamsmp fanzine #fanzine #dsmp fanzine #dsmp art #dsmp zine #dsmp au #camp dream obedience camp #tommyinnit #georgenotfound #wilbur soot

[bamjammy]

Hello new people who find this post! This project has already begun, and there is now a discord server for those interested in joining, and a blog for the people who want to support ( @campdreamfanzine ). Thank you!

Hello DSMP people! Artists, writers, appreciators…

Welcome to Camp Dream!

Ok, well, not quite yet.

Camp Dream is a POTENTIAL CONCEPT for a DreamSMP fanzine, except it takes place at a summer camp! Specifically the Camp Dream Obedience Camp.

I want this to be a collaborative zine, something me, my friend @tabithamoonstone , and a multitude of other artists and writers work on at our own pace.

This is an idea I’ve very hastily come up with, so as of now, there isn’t a plot, or even a plan, and the only art I have right now is the shitty logo featured above. The only plans I have so far are that Dream, George, Sam, Phil, and Techno are counselors, Dream owns the place, George is a nurse, and everyone else is a camper. I want this zine to be something me and my fellow collaborators create together.

Aka please don’t make me do this alone!!

I’ve never done anything quite like this before, and if you are an artist or a writer or even just someone who is interested in reading it,

Please reblog this post!!

And if you want to participate and create, add the tag #Camp Dream Obedience Camp, and I’m hoping I can throw together a discord server if I get enough people on board! (I don’t need very many people, even just 5 would be enough, but I would love to have a variety of different art included!)

Enjoy your stay at Camp Dream Obedience Camp, and stay out of trouble!

#dsmp #mcyt #dream smp #dsmp au #dsmp art #fanzine #dsmp fanzine #fan zine #dsmp zine #wilbur soot #tubbo #quackity #technoblade #tommyinnit #ranboo #philza #dreamsmp #c!dsmp #Camp Dream Obedience Camp

[dresden-syndrome]

For the ask game:

Obedient/docile whumpee! The opposite of defiant whumpee.

Whumping in EESU: Obedient whumpee

Whumpee is walked to an interrogation room. They've never tried to fight the officers, resist the guards' grip or otherwise act out yet they're fully restrained every time they leave their cell. Whumpee dreams they won't have to wear them one day. EESU laws say no matter the behavior, restraints are a must.

Whumpee is on a detention medical check, silently hoping they won't be deemed fit for hard manual labor.

After several horrible interrogations, whumpee finally writes down their confession, watching their tears falling on the paper and mixing with fresh pen ink.

Test subject whumpee having to go through another long and invasive examination, staying still as the doctors bend, move and observe their body; they won't say it out loud but in their mind they've been begging for it to stop thousands of times.

Test subject whumpee watches themself being covered in restraints, unable to move at a cold medical table, hearing the researchers discuss the oncoming procedure. The sense of dread fills their body, the silent tears run down their face, unseen and unheard.

Labor camp whumpee, overworked and exhausted, struggling to move from muscle pain, silently carrying themselves to work in hopes of getting a shorter sentence or being eventually promoted.

Class 4 whumpee getting a gift for their compliance - a task to mop the floors within their allowed part of the facility. A menial chore for workers, a first opportunity to walk out of the cell for the subject; even in the tight leg cuffs, they're glad for that tiny piece of freedom they can get.

Whumpee starting to know more and more about their facility's work, see more things facilty workers do and hear conversations they have; in a state of horror and pain for their fellow subjects, unable to do anything about it, they feel utterly helpless.

Whumpee trying to cope with knowing the terrible things EESU government, such a fine system from the outside, has actually been doing all along.

Whumpee tries to brace themselves for resisting the guards or asking questions yet every time the facility guards open the cell door and call their new name, a four-digit ID number, all they can do is obediently walk to them as if they've been hypnotized.

"Personal property" whumpee finally standing still while their owner tightens their old collar again; they know how much pain they'll be in if they try to refuse.

Whumpee bringing food, drinks and requested loads of paperwork to their owner's table, looking confused, powerless and pathetic among the powerful, confident, relaxed high-rank officials gathered in their owner's office.

"Long live the European Communist Party! Long live the Supreme Commander! Long live EESU!", whumpee automatically repeats when asked to, almost unconsciously, as they learned from a long time of repetition, discipline and punishments.

Class 2 whumpee writting letters to their family every time they come home from work; their loved ones are so close but letters are the only way to keep in contact since they haven't received a permission to leave their labor commune yet.

Whumpee, a relatively innocent political convict, becoming conditioned to fully believe they are an enemy of the state and they deserve what it brings upon them.

[Masterpost link]

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #historical whump #military whump #prison whump #lab whump #pet whump #whumpee #captive whumpee #obedient whumpee #conditioned whumpee #whump ideas #whump scenario #whump stuff #whump tropes #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump prompt list #whump writing

[republicsecurity]

Remembering

M10EW: You remember those endless drills back in boot camp?

IOT5E: (smirking) Oh, how could I forget? It felt like they were trying to turn us into machines.

M10EW: Yeah, but you know what's weird? After a while, I kinda started to like it. The rhythm, the discipline—it all grew on me.

IOT5E: (nodding) Same here. At first, it was grueling, but then it became a sort of comforting routine. And look at us now, watching a movie after a day of duty, fully conditioned and all.

M10EW: (laughs) Who would've thought we'd become nostalgic for those drill days? It's like the conditioning worked its magic.

IOT5E: Maybe they knew what they were doing. Turn us into disciplined conscripts who appreciate a good movie after a day of service.

IOT5E: Yeah, they always said the conditioning was tailored to our personalities. I guess they nailed it, didn't they?

M10EW: (grinning) Either that or we've become so conditioned that we believe it's a perfect fit.

IOT5E: (chuckles) Maybe a bit of both. But hey, at least we're here, enjoying a movie, and not questioning the quirks of our journey.

M10EW: (nodding) That Drill Instructor's voice, always booming in our helmets. It was like a constant reminder of authority.

IOT5E: (smirking) And if you dared to lower your visor during the drill, you'd get an earful about discipline and focus.

M10EW: (imitating the Drill Instructor) "Attention, conscripts! You will maintain focus, or you will face consequences!"

IOT5E: (laughs) Good times, right? But seriously, it did help in shaping us into what we are today.

M10EW: Yeah, I can't deny it. That discipline became a part of us.

M10EW: (leaning back) You ever think about that "awe mode" they used in the recruit helmets?

IOT5E: (nodding) Oh, the one that made the Drill Instructor's voice sound godly? Yeah, it was like they found a way to stimulate that religious reverence in our brains.

M10EW: (smirking) Suddenly, every word they barked at us felt like divine wisdom.

IOT5E: (laughs) And all it took was a tweak in the helmet settings. The power of conditioning, my friend.

M10EW: Yeah, after we survived the initial shock. Remember the debriefing sessions? That's when they spilled the beans on all the psychological tricks.

IOT5E: (nodding) They wanted us to understand how it all worked. Almost like breaking down the illusion and showing us the strings behind the puppetry.

M10EW: (thoughtful) It's a strange mix of manipulation and education. They condition us to respond in certain ways, shape our behavior, and then unveil the mechanisms behind it.

IOT5E: (grinning) And we eat it up, thinking we're part of some grand narrative. Living the conscript dream.

M10EW: (smirking) The awe mode, the conditioning, the whole package – it's a mind-bending experience.

IOT5E: (nodding) Pain, discipline, and the whole package. They've got ways to ensure compliance.

M10EW: (leaning back) Resistance is futile. We learned that early on. It's easier to go with the flow.

IOT5E: (smirking) Plus, they always remind us that the conditioning is for our own good. Keeps us in line and doing what we were meant to do.

M10EW: (sarcastically) Right, because we'd be lost without our helmets, suits, and the grand plan they've laid out for us.

IOT5E: (grinning) The happy boyscout package indeed. With our cheerful smiles and perfect obedience, we're like the poster children for a utopian society.

M10EW: (chuckles) I remember the days when we used to question things. Now, it all seems so clear, doesn't it? Follow orders, stay happy, and enjoy the benefits of our perfect conditioning.

M10EW: (smirking) Can't argue with that. The conditioning did wonders for our physical fitness. And having a clear sense of purpose certainly adds a certain satisfaction to the routine.

IOT5E: (nodding) They knew what they were doing when they designed this system. Keep us fit, happy, and ever so loyal.

M10EW: (grimacing) Yeah, I remember that too. Poor lad never quite recovered from it. Heavy pain, constant drills, and a total breakdown – they molded him into something else. I heard they assigned him to site security. You know, the kind of duty where you don't need much thinking.

IOT5E: (nodding) It's a harsh reality. They break you down and reshape you into whatever they need. But most of us, we come out of it alright. Fit, loyal, and strangely content.

M10EW: (sighs) It's a fine line, though. Conditioning for efficiency and loyalty is one thing, but turning someone into a mere shell – that's a whole different story. And who would've thought we'd end up bonding over a movie about a conscript befriending Godzilla? Life is strange in the Patrol Division.

IOT5E: (smirking) Strange but strangely fulfilling. Now, let's get some rest. Another day of patrolling awaits, and we wouldn't want to disappoint our AI overlords.

M10EW: (laughs) Right you are, my friend. Goodnight, IOT5E.

IOT5E: Goodnight, M10EW. Sweet dreams of happy conscripts and friendly monsters.

[raiswanson]

Camp NaNo update!

Ayyy I can’t remember if I even announced camp this month but I’m doing it!! I set myself a Smol Goal knowing I’d be distracted and slow this time around and yea. That was a good choice lol. But I am writing! The Silent One is moving!!

Not much to say beyond that aside from hehehe I’m about to reach a character I’ve been wanting to introduce since the book appeared as a concept uwu Soon....soon... Meanwhile! Have an excerpt! (It’s a bit longish so more under a cut!)

~*~

  I halted mid-step, twisting to set my balled fists on the railing. Stewing, I gazed across the open horizon at the sky beyond, watching the sun begin to descend toward the water. I watched orange spread across blue both light and dark, casting warm light over the cresting waves.

  More thoughts whirled. I chewed on my bottom lip, not caring how unseemly it was.

  Before I could think to stop myself, I spoke, “Sir Lethen, is there anything else you wish you could have done with your life? Any other dreams?”

  The only indication I’d startled him with the question was a short breath through his nose. He collected himself immediately and cleared his throat. “This is all I ever could have imagined doing, Your Majesty,” he replied.

  It was the perfect answer, just as his last had been. Just what an obedient knight should have said. Exactly what was expected of him. Beneath the words was a truth I knew he wouldn’t say aloud—all his other options had been taken from him early on. He’d never been given any other choice.

  I knew that. I’d known, since he’d been brought to me. But I’d hoped...

  “But have you ever considered serving another? Has no lord or land ever drawn your eye?” I asked, raising a hand to shift direction before he could repeat himself or try to play to my ego. “Before you were sworn to me. Before you began your training, even. Was there anything else you liked? Any other aspirations? Something you wanted, before...this?” I gestured vaguely around us as I spoke, hoping he would understand. Hoping he would give me something, anything to work with.

  His answer was a lengthy, silent pause.

#writing #writeblr #camp nanowrimo #The Silent One #rai writes camp nanowrimo #rai writes #ilu kiara. ilu lethen. sorry about all the *gestures to the entire book* #you are stressing your knight OUT kiara. dont drop this stuff on him out of nowhere!!! what is he supposed to think when you ask him this!! #this book is a delight but oooohhhh kiki. oooh girl. you hurt the me.

[natsarrownecklacx]

Forever Neverland Pt. 1

Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: Not all dreams come true. But thankfully yours has. Now you have to face the possibility that this dream could turn into a nightmare.

Word count: 889.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnappings, allusion to death n torture but not really.

Series Masterlist

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The rough threads of the rope binding your wrists together dig into your skin. Each time you move your hands, even slightly, the friction of the rope against your skin causes a sting to rise there. It’s not too tight, you can still feel blood flowing through your hands. It’s better treatment than you thought you’d get. But the ropes serve their purpose in limiting the use of your limbs.

Each step you take feels heavier than the last. You know where you're going, in a sense, but it feels like you’ve been walking for hours.

Every so often you're pulled to a stop, a flask of water gently nudged against your lips in offering, you accept every time. 

The journey continues on. One foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, left foot, stumble, be yanked upright before hitting the floor, left foot, right foot, repeat. The repetitiveness is boring. Mind numbing. Frustrating. But at least you're not back at the camp.

No one speaks, not even a word. You know why, but it doesn’t help to ease the tense atmosphere the silence creates. 

The silence is good, you remind yourself. It means you're less likely to be caught. These are his woods, he has eyes and ears everywhere. The quieter you are, the faster you go, the more likely it is you will make it to where you're going. Though, to be completely honest with yourself, you're not entirely sure you want to make it there either. 

As you trek through the seemingly never ending woods your mind wanders. Eventually you slip completely from your surroundings and lose yourself to your inner thoughts, your body moving on autopilot as you're led through the forest.

You’d know this would happen. From the moment you were taken from your village and forced to join the lost boys you knew you’d somehow end up here. Being led, a piece of fabric covering your eyes, toward the Scarlet Duchess. The infamous ship belonging to none other than Captain Hook. 

It’s common knowledge amongst everyone in Neverland, the long standing rivalry between Pan and Hook. No one is quite sure why the two seem to hate each other as they do, though there are many rumors about the cause of their never ending conflict. Some even say their hatred for each other has lasted centuries, though you find that hard to believe. 

It’s always made sense to you that you’d somehow end up where you are now, caught in the crossfire between the two. After all, the Captain has no reason but to believe you to be anything but loyal to Pan, a good and obedient partner of his that she could use to for… well you don’t know what for, but still.

In all honesty you’ve been hoping for this to happen, to be taken by her and her crew. It was an evitable really, but the thought of it got you through your worst days. At least now you won't have to see him again. Either they’ll kill you or keep you as a prisoner. Both options are better than staying where you were. With him. That’s why, as you are led by Hooks men, one on either side of you, you do not put up a fight. It’s why you didn’t struggle when they’d grabbed you from the camp. Didn’t make a fuss as they bound your hands in front of you with rope. You wanted to go with them, at least in part.

Your compliance confused them, but they didn’t question it, it just meant things would be easier for them.

Feeling the ground under your feet become less solid and more shaky brings your attention to the fact that you are now aboard the Captain's ship. A feeling of dread washes over you, the thought of where you are now being somehow worse then where you were before is hard to believe, but still, it is a possibility. 

Hearing the chains of the anchor being wound up brings a sigh of relief to pass your lips. He won't be able to get to you now, not as long as they stay moving. The Scarlet Douches is famous for its seemingly unmatchable speed. As long as this ship stays at sea and the crew keep vigilant, he shouldn’t be able to come aboard. 

“Well then, men.”

A voice comes from somewhere to your left. Hook, you realize. It has to be. She speaks with the authority only someone with her reputation could. That, along with the accent she is known for laced into her voice, gives away whose presence you're in. The infamous Captain Hook herself. 

Only her voice has the opposite effect on you then you’d imagined it would. It doesn’t scare you or make you want to run, like his does. It’s soothing, warm and inviting. There's a certain lure to it that makes you feel as though you want it to wrap around you. Want to hear it whisper sweet words to you all hours of the night into the early hours of the morning. Want so desperately to sink into the comfort it would provide as it tells you it’s okay, you're okay now, you're safe.

“What have you brought me?” The voice sounds again, an almost smug knowingness weaved through it.

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Part Two

A/n: This is just a short first chapter to get things started. Hope you guys like the story so far :) I have the next two chapters done already so it won’t be to long before their out.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff series #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Pirate!Wanda Maximoff x Reader #Wanda maximoff x Princess!Reader #Pirate!Wanda maximoff x Princess!Reader