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#am now just finding a name within it lol—
iced-souls · 2 years
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Big boi bird form…….
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BIG FRICKIN BOI BIRD GUY
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starkeysbaby · 10 months
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I just thought of Rafe with a sleepy gf reader who falls asleep anywhere anytime. His truck, midsummers, party’s, in the middle of a convo. Idk why but I love the concept
omg i absolutley LOVE this concept!
A/N: I APOLOGISE FOR LATE UPLOAD. I HAD MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK, BUT IM BACK NOW!
Sleepy Girl
pairing: rafe cameron x sleepy!reader [est. relationship] 
warnings: none i think lol? [lemme know if you find any]
summary: numerous scenarios of when rafe cameron takes care of his sleepy girl
rafe cameron masterlist main masterlist
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in his truck
It had been half an hour since you had told rafe that you were tired before ending the two hour long facetime call you two had been on. It had been half an hour of you trying to get to sleep. Despite being tired, you couldn't manage to fall asleep which was surprising for you as you'd usually be out within minutes after your head hit the pillows. After a few more minutes of struggling you decided to see if rafe was still awake.
*messages with rafe*
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About ten minutes later you got a text from rafe saying he was outside. While he would usually come get you himself, at night you told him it'd be best if waits in the car so you guys don't wake your sleeping parents. "Hi beautiful" you heard him say as you got into rafe's truck and put your seatbelt on before he could ask you to. His free hand immediately found it's place on your thigh like it always did during your drives. "Hi, thanks for this" you blushed at his compliment from seconds ago. "Anything for you" he smiled as he started driving with no indication of where he was going. This wasn't the first time the two of you would go on drives when one of you was restless (almost always you) so as usual he would just drive around the obx until you both called it a night.
You continued on your drive having small, random, meaningless but interesting conversations as some random song quietly played through the speakers in the background. As you heard rafe talk about his new project with his dad at cameron development, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling proud and happy at how much his relationship with his dad has improved and how his attitude towards life in general has changed for the better. The sound of his voice and his thumb rubbing against your thigh lulled you sleep causing rafe to gently pull over and place the blanket he kept in the back over you. He looked over at your sleepy form at a red light and couldn't help but to admire you "love you, my sleepy girl"
at parties (imagine this in a reality where kooks and pouges get along lol)
Kelce had thrown yet another end of school party despite it already being halfway into summer. The teens of the obx were always looking for an excuse to have houseparties, keggers, get togethers, you name it. If it had booze, drugs and people their age, they were down. Not that you were complaining though, you loved having a reason to get all dressed up and spend a night with your best friends and boyfriend. Although you were quite tired today and when vocalising this to rafe and your friends they all replied with something along the lines of "when aren't you". JJ in particular begged you to come and dared you to not fall asleep before 2 am. After a little persuasion and a bet formed between you and jj stating that the loser cleans the others car/bike for the next month, you were down.
At around 1:00 am you all (you, rafe, sarah, kie, cleo, john b, jj, pope, kelce, topper, barry and some other mutual friends) had found yourselves sitting on kelce's rather large balcony alternating between random convos and playing stupid party games such as truth or dare. You were sat in rafe's lap with his arms around you, one of his hands stroking your thigh whilst the other held a beer.
Feeling yourself grow tired you moved your face to bury it into rafe's chest almost forgetting about your bet with jj before you hear barry's voice booming. "YO THORNTON" causing jj to divert his attention away from a clingy kie "looks like mrs country clubs called it a night, pay up" you heard causing you to jolt your head up earning a groan from barry and a chuckle from jj and rafe. "Are you guys betting on me?" you asked putting two and two together. "Hey it's not just us, everyone is, even your boyfriend" jj pointed above you at rafe to get the blame off of himself.
This pulled whatever sleep you had in you away as you sat up and looked at rafe who had a sheepish smile on his face. "Explain" you said staring at rafe. "Well um-" he stuttered earning giggles from kelce and topper who rarely saw rafe at a loss for words "we all bet on who we think is gonna win the bet between you and jj" he explained. "Topper, kelce, john b, and cleo think you're gonna win and kie, barry, pope and sarah think jj's gonna win" he finished. "And you? who do you think is gonna win rafe?" you asked interested to hear his answer.
Some giggles from sarah and john b had you guessing you weren't going to like his answer. "well... baby you know i love you, but my money's on jj" he smiled down at you again with that sheepish smile. "really?" you laughed "you're betting against me?" you fake pouted, not really caring about something so silly. "Sorry baby" rafe laughed kissing your forehead. "Well imma stay up now just so i can see you lose" you smirked up at him "and so i don't have to clean jj's bike for the next month" you added on.
A while later you began to feel sleepy again as you drowned out the conversation between rafe and a few of the others. You looked up at rafe with sleepy eyes and he could swear that he'd never seen anything cuter. "Is it pass two?" you asked him in a pleading voice that had him send a quiet prayer to God that it had passed two so you could stop torturing yourself. He checked his watch, annoyed to see that it was 1:41 am meaning you couldnt sleep for another twenty minutes. Not having the heart to break it to you he just nodded causing you to bury your face into him as you layed against him, sleep immediately taking over you.
He bought his finger up to his lips and looked at everyone else with a death glare, a silent threat to everyone to not ruin it by telling you the actual time or else. He looked back at you sleeping then to jj who had a smirk on his face as he'd just won the bet. Little did jj know that there was no way on earth rafe was gonna let his girl wash jj's bike causing rafe to smirk to himself thinking of how he would deal with jj tomorrow, not caring how annoyed the blonde would get, you won't have to lift a finger. And that money he won from the other bet? He was already planning on how he was gonna take you out with that money and treat you the following day. "goodnight my pretty, sleepy girl" he whispered as he placed one final kiss into the top of your head before resuming his conversation with everyone else.
at midsummers
So far, midsummers had been everything you dreamt and more. You wore a stunning emerald green satin dress which complimented your skin tone and eye colour so beautifully. Your parents were so happy to see you with rafe enjoying midsummers remembering their own first midsummers together whilst the camerons wouldn't stop complimenting you. You had always been family to them being sarah's bestfriend since you both were three but they loved you even more after you started dating rafe.
The hours flew by as you danced with your parents, kie, sarah, wheezie, rafe and a few of your other friends. You even shared a dance with ward as he thanked you for bringing his son back to him. After a while you, kie and sarah went to grab a drink away from your parents hoping to get something alcoholic into your systems. After a while, not many people were left. Your parents had gone home without you once you told them you'd be staying at tannyhill with rafe and sarah tonight. You, kie and sarah were talking when you saw sarah roll her eyes at something behind you before feeling a pair of hands grab your waist. You turned you head to see rafe smiling at you pulling you away from sarah and kie leading you to the dance floor.
A slow song was playing as you both slowly danced to the music with your arms wrapped around his neck and your head was rested against his chest. Rafe's hands stayed at your waist and hips as he moved your body with his bringing his lips down to your ear "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered. This caused you to giggle "only about a milion times". He chuckled at that and you felt butterflies emerge in your stomach at the rumbles from his chest "well that's not enough, lets make it a million and one" he started before peppering some kisses into your hair "you look gorgeous princess" he finished with one final kiss. You smiled feeling nothing but comfort in that moment in that calm atmosphere "i love you" you whispered earning an "i love you more" from rafe. You continued to dance as you felt your eyes get heavier, sleep taking over you. Rafe also felt your body get heavier as you gave into the sleep leading him to gently carry you to his truck, "let's get you home my sleepy girl"
at a picnic date/mid convo
"oh my god rafe, this is so cute" you beamed at rafe as he took out a little picnic blanket and placed it over the grass "i know, you want some strawberries?" rafe smirked in a cocky tone, proud of himself for coming up with a successful date. "yes please" you said sitting down next to him. As soon as you sat down you felt rafe's arms pull you into his lap and before you could say anything to object, he stuffed a strawberry into your mouth.
You two proceeded to talk about many things going on in the obx particularly your night at midsummers just yesterday. With your head in rafes lap, you looked up at him whilst he sat upright against a tree peering down at you and mindlessly playing with your hair. When rafe started describing his favourite moments from midsummers, trying find a few pictures topper had managed to snap, he heard your hums get quieter and less frequent as the seconds passed. Shrugging his brows he moves his phone away so your face was no longer blocked, only to find you sleeping with a small smile on your face. He couldn't help chuckle, not only at the small bit of whipped cream on your nose, but also at how his sleepy girl had fallen asleep on yet another date. Slowy, he quietly snapped a picture of you before putting his phone to the side whilst dropping his head down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, bringing it back up as he continued to admire you.
This was a picture rafe loved.
An image he wanted imprinted in his mind.
His favouite sight.
"sleep well my sleepy girl"
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mo0nfairy · 11 months
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !
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summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 5.8k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.
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jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .
possessive, dominant, & stalker
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──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.
Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.
Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.
Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.
Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.
Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.
There is nothing now.
Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.
She would be happy. And you would be, too.
Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.
Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.
Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.
A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?
What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.
Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.
It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.
A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.
Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.
A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.
She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.
The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.
A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.
You.
Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.
"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.
Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.
Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.
This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.
Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.
It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.
The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.
With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.
As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.
A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.
Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.
An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.
Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.
Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-
A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.
The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.
In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?
With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.
How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?
Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.
Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways? 
You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.
Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.
The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.
There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.
In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.
A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.
"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.
Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva. 
Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.
Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.
As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.
With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.
Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.
Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.
Oh, one day. One day...
Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.
Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.
Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.
Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.
Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.
You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.
You're the first to break through the quiet.
"What the fuck?"
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⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ RECURRING VISIONS
OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞
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for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!
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changbinsboiledegg · 4 months
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skz with a very needy!sub??? 👀
btw your so cool i could give you a big smooch on the cheeks please never stop being cool
Thank you for thinking I am cool. What are we?
GN? Reader X SKZ
(Tried to keep some terms general, if that makes sense. No specific body parts were mentioned except for, yk, d1ck.)
MDNI!!!!!!!!
Warning: Dom x Needy Sub dynamic?, swearing, usage of vulgar language, teasing, some are hard doms, some are soft, usage of seggs toys, semi-public seggs mention, smut (only a little), protected or unprotected seggs— that’s up to you. Lol.
Note: I’m so sorry this is late, it’s been a shit month (year). I’ll learn to spell s*x properly when I’m rich. Until then, it’s SEGGS. (Joking) But regardless, here you go lovely. As always, if no one has told you, Ilyyyy 🫶🫶 If you see any typos, please bypass them I'm sorry.
♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
Chan
He doesn’t give in easily when you’re very needy. Surely you’re aware of this by now.
But that doesn’t stop you from trying everything under the sun to turn him on and need you just as much as you needed him.
“Please!” You begged, literally on your knees in front of him. He just looked down at you, unphased.
“Please what?” His gaze held you captive.
“Please…” you couldn’t finish that sentence, you brain turning to mush. You mentally cursed, hating that he made you nervous after you so confidently stripped in front of him slowly.
“Come on. Can’t fuck you if you don’t know what you want.” Chan stood firm on his role as your dom.
“Please fuck me.” You finally mustered out, meeting his gaze. Chan smirked.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Lee Know
Minho knew you were needy when it came to sex, but he specifically knew when you were needy.
He always knew what to do to make your neediness increase. He loved seeing you get so turned on.
Of course, he wasn’t evil. He always gave you the satisfaction you wanted, however, he definitely was going to play with you first.
You squirmed in your seat, trying to control your breathing as Minho remotely controlled the vibrator inside of you. He continuously changed modes, either sending you close to the edge or fueling your need for more.
“Had enough yet?” Minho asked. It was clear that he enjoyed teasing you. You whimpered as the vibrations send shivers through your body.
“I want you!” Your tone a pleading one. Minho took in the sight of you for a moment— a complete mess for him by him.
“I guess you’ve earned it. Come here.”
Changbin
When you were needy, Changbin didn’t waste a second. He wanted to give you what you wanted while still being in control.
You came to him, being extra clingy, knowing the second Changbin became just as touchy with you, he would make you feel so good that you would have trouble remembering your name for the minutes that followed.
You started out slow, mindlessly playing with his hand before it ended up resting on your thigh. Then slowly, he’d find himself sliding it towards your inner thigh, gripping and squeezing the flesh under.
Then he’d feel the result of your neediness and within a few seconds, he’s inside of you, taking you hard to satisfy your neediness.
At least in that moment, that is.
Hyunjin
He’s used to your neediness by now and even enjoys the fact that he’s able to turn you on without having to do anything.
He loves seeing the way you react to his actions, no matter how simple. Hyunjin doesn’t like making you wait, though.
One minute he’s running his fingers through his hair, the next he has you bent over and taking him so well, you forgot about everything troubling you.
“Hnng! Hyun-Hyunjin!” You felt his hand clasp over your mouth as he took you harder— faster.
“Shh, don’t want the others to hear you cum, right?” He whispered sharply close to your ear. You shook your head, but in the back of your mind, you thought about how you wouldn’t mind anyone else hearing how good he’s making you feel.
Han
“Can we sneak to the bathroom or somewhere private?” You asked Jisung, feeling particularly needy that day. Turns out you tend to feel needy at the wrong times.
“Why? What happened?” Jisung was oblivious at first, showing genuine concern. He thought you were having a good time at this party, and you were, but you wanted a different kind if fun.
“It concerns your dick.” You whispered, feigning innocence for the partygoers around you two. By the look on his face, he seemed just as needy to be inside of you in some way.
“Okay, I see now…” he immediately looked towards the nearest bathroom. “What if someone hears—“
As soon as you caught his gaze, you pulled him towards the bathroom. Jisung chuckled, “you know I’m in control, right?”
“This isn’t about control,” you shut the door and locked it, then immediately lowered to your knees. “It’s about need. And I need you now.”
Felix
You’d begged all day, the need for him to touch you in any way that he could was gnawing at you.
And still, Felix continued to tease you, making you beg more just for begging in the first place.
“Felix, please. I’m going to die if you don’t—“
Felix drowned your next words out by crashing his lips onto yours, his hand cupping your jaw just enough to keep your head in place, but not to hurt you.
“Tell me, darling. What is it you want exactly?” Felix’s breathy voice filled your ears once his lips departed yours.
“I need you. Whether it’s inside of me or-or…” you were trembling. Not from fear, but from the aching feeling between your legs. Felix kissed you again, softer this time.
“Lay back. I think you’ve earned it now.”
Seungmin
“No.” Seungmin said, not wavering in his response to your neediness. He knew you’ve been in a constant state of arousal since the event started but he wasn’t about to cut it short just to give in to your desires— or his, for that matter.
You felt a wave of disappointment but understood. You just wished he would do something immediately.
Seungmin looked over at you and discreetly placed his hand on your thigh underneath the table you two were sat at.
“Don’t look so sad. I’ll reward you when we get home.” He winked before gently squeezing your thigh, leaving shivers of need running up and down your body.
“Can you hold out for another hour?” He added in a low whisper, “or are you going to be impatient like last time?”
You wanted so badly to answer ‘yes’ to the second question, knowing your release would be delayed, but at least he’d start immediately.
But your patience always earned you the best orgasms. Fuck. You had to think carefully, and Seungmin was awaiting your response with a half raised eyebrow.
“I can hold out.”
Seungmin smirked, “good.”
I.N
Jeongin was never one to make you wait or delay your release whenever you were particularly needy for him.
Sometimes you wondered who was the dom and who was the sub.
of course, when you two were alone, you were reminded of your role as he filled you up while his hands tightly gripped your wrists, pinning you down into the mattress.
Even as he pounded into you, your body feeling the shocks of relief from the pent up tension between you two, you still felt needy for him.
“Ohmygod—“ you gasped, leading into a wordless cry of pleasure as you felt that familiar knot building up in your stomach.
“You’re so cute. You act like this is the first time I’ve fucked you like this.” Jeongin grunted, his pace unrelenting.
You knew by now that you were in for a long night.
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silkval · 5 months
Text
♠】 find out what goes on behind the scenes with the darling of your choice!
send an ask with the name of your darling and the question numbers you would like answered, and you will get your request!☆
》 content desc/warnings
absolutely feral blade, like kneeling at ur feet n panting kinda feral, reserved-ish blade, reader does not hesitate to knock down blades ego (and he finds it hot), a little fluffy, but also mentions of corpses lol, …and fucking around said corpses, honestly not a lot of smut just suggestive, both reader and blades anatomy is not specified so go wild
★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★
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Ⅱ 》 what is the strangest place they've had sex with you?
not exactly a place in particular, but- yknow, in front of a few… not-very-alive looking bodies. what? he couldn't help himself- how could he, when you just looked so damn good after a fight? chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, that sharp gleam in your eyes and a vicious snarl curled at your features… it took less than a beat before he was dropped on his knees in front of you, panting like a dog in heat and practically drooling as much as the surrounding corpses bled… safe to say that was certainly one of the most ‘messy’ lovemaking session you two indulged in.
Ⅲ 》 do they wear lingerie or anything special for you?
honestly, the guy is a little reserved- at least when he first met you. always stayed modest when training; wearing a plain compression shirt when training compared to some of his other colleagues who went shirtless, preferring to change within his own quarters than in the changing barracks, so its safe to say it took him a while to muster up the courage to start wearing more revealing casual wear around you. it started with the occasional silk blouse with a few buttons loose- flustered and nervous about his little attempt of showing off to you yet you'd never guess from his blank stare, aside from the faintest tint of red on his cheeks. but now? oh, he will not hesitate to show off- now, half the damn time you see him he’ll be shirtless; comfortable as ever in your presence, he absolutely bathes in your attention now with no shame.
Ⅳ 》 what is the one kink they have they will never admit they have?
…teasing. oh, does it get to him. since he's always in such a position of power (except with you, of course), he's used to never getting any backtalk or any kind of retaliation- so when he first heard your idle challenge of his skills, sly drawl in question of his abilities or a smug grin with a dare of him to prove himself- he went weak. you had expected a haughty retaliation or at least a roll of his eyes- but certainly not… this. your darling had esssentially just turned into a mess; pupils blown wide, lips holding a slight quiver and silent as ever- before hastily snapping out a jumbled reply as he averted his gaze although it was painfully obvious how affected he was by just a simple tease.
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...did not expect that many asks 4 blade but I am so not complaining. he is such a loser and I luv writing for him
also tysm @sh1-n0bu!! i was so surprised to see ur username pop up in my inbox cuz I've looked up to your writings sososo much and oml you are such a sweetheart tysm💙💙
(also trying something out- just posting as usual instead of replying to an ask as the reach on my last post was. shiiit)
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whimsywilde · 7 months
Text
Astarion's Mirror
I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the idea mentioned somewhere. (A TikTok comment maybe?) I haven't written fanfic since DAI. How am I back at this again? I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I fiddle too much, I'll lose interest and it will disappear in the WIP folder. lol Enjoy!
Thank you Larian Studios and Neil Newbon for this incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking character!
Recommened Listening: THE FEELS by Labrinth
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“Astarion…” she paused, hesitating, uncertain if the thought that had just danced across her mind would actually work. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire. His lack of burning up in the sun tended to put his condition out of her mind. The mirror in his hand, however, had brought it back in stark relief. But… what if?
“As adorable as you are when thinking, I can’t help but feel there was more you wanted to say than just my name.” He smirked at her.
She resisted the urge to fall back into their playful banter. “What if you could see yourself… I mean, sort of.”
“What?” It was more of a whispered plea than a question. “How?”
“I’m not sure if it will work. But, the parasites… they’ve let us see into one another's minds before. It makes sense that we could see more.”
She hadn’t really been looking at him while she spoke, her eyes focused on some invisible point in the distance. Turning her attention more directly to him, his expression caught her off guard. She’d never seen him so vulnerable.
“We don’t have to. I’m not even completely sure it would work. I’ve never really tried to use it before. I just thought….”
“Would you try?” He interrupted, his voice still unnaturally hesitant, absent of the bravado she was used to. “Please.” It was almost an afterthought but may have been the most sincere she’d ever heard him.
She smiled tightly, worried now she’d be unable to connect that way, before closing her eyes and reaching for that alien presence within her mind. She hated the feeling of the cold shiver in her skull as she consciously connected to it and then, taking a breath, eyes tightly shut, reached out to where she felt she’d find Astarion. 
At first the connection was light, barely perceptible, like cobwebs in the breeze. After focusing on it for a few seconds, reaching out to it with uncertain hands, it seemed to expand. With her eyes still tightly closed, it was the tide of emotions slowly rolling up in the shore of her mind that hit her first. The anticipation, hopeful expectation, fear and worry. She resisted the urge to retreat from the intensity of his feelings and the jumbled, wordless thoughts that came with them and, again, focused past them. After several seconds, she was surprised to suddenly find herself looking through Astarion’s eyes at herself. She stilled to allow the image of herself solidify in her mind. 
Her eyes opened slowly. She allowed her gaze to linger near Astarion’s feet as gained confidence in the connection. The impatience he was feeling rushed to greet her through the bond.
“Look at me.” It was something between a command and a plea.
She opened her mind to him as completely as she could, wanting him to know that she had no motivations behind her actions and lingering gaze other than to allow him to see himself clearly, to be a mirror. She took a deep breath, centered herself and began to slowly lift her eyes up his body. Her gaze was gentle and curious, more that of an artist studying their work, rather than the lusty intensity of a lover. She followed the narrow slope of his hips up his chest and across his shoulders, her eyes lingering for mere moments before moving on. As she reached his neck, there was a brief glance to the scars that had made him the creature he was, before following his perfectly coiffed hair around his face. 
Part of her still wanted to tease him, to play. They’d been having fun, taken next to nothing seriously while they traveled and fought together. Even when she allowed him to drink from her, always standing since him hovering over her had felt too intimate, she typically pushed him away afterward with a joke on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. It was easy and had been so natural to keep him just close enough without letting him in. The intensity of his feelings pouring into her now was more than she bargained for and she had a moment of regret for offering to even try. She didn’t want to feel so much. It left her vulnerable. Opened her up to much more than she wanted to be aware of. Her eyes had frozen at the base of his throat. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look up? She didn’t like the answers her heart was trying to give. His fingers curled lightly under her chin, lifting her face upward, pulled her attention back. 
Her eyes snapped up to his suddenly and he gasped. The light from the campfire flickered and flashed across brilliant crimson. My eyes. Those are my eyes. His thoughts came through their link in sharp clarity. Her attention refocused on allowing him to see his face after so long in the dark and allowed the intensity of what he was feeling to drown out her own heart. She didn’t need to exist for this moment. She was giving this gift and she allowed herself to fall back within to the place of an observer. With her surrender, it allowed him to direct her eyes across his features. He took himself in fully and they stood in hushed stillness, eyes and minds locked together. 
With their minds so fully blended, she almost didn’t notice her hand absentmindedly reaching out to rest lightly on the side of his face. He didn’t pull away. She used her thumb to pull gently at his bottom lip, exposing his fangs to her gaze. 
They passed several seconds that way before her hand dropped, her vision swirling and darkening. She felt her body sway heavily and would have fallen if Astarion hadn’t caught her. Her head was pounding while her stomach churned. She sent up a silent prayer, to whatever god may be listening, that she wouldn’t vomit.
Astarion supported her body against his gently. When she tried to push away from him, he lifted her carefully and carried her to her tent, laying her down on her bedroll. 
“You pushed yourself too far. You need to rest,” he scolded. She wanted to protest; to throw out some snarky remark in an attempt to catch him off guard so that they could go back to the superficial game they shared, but she couldn’t seem to measure out enough strength to respond. Sleep was quickly overtaking her. She was never sure if he’d actually turned to look at her before leaving the tent and whispered a strangled thank you or if it was just part of the fevered dreams of the night.
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bbrissonn · 7 months
Text
𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢
summary: in which no matter how much you tried, you were never good enough for him and you decide it was time for things to get messy within the hockey team
disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 
warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  
pairing: luca fantili x reader
wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)
a/n: i gave some guys on the team a girlfriend, completely random name so don't go trying to find them lol
guts masterlist
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I am light as a feather, I’m as stiff as a board
I pay attention to things that most people ignore
And I’m alright with the movies
That make jokes ‘bout senseless cruelty, that’s for sure
And I am built like a mother and a total machine
I feel for your every little issues, I know just what you mean
And I make light of the darkness
I’ve got sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket, best believe
Yeah, you know me, I
You tried, you really did. You took note of every little things he’d mention, hoping that it would be useful in the long run, hoping he’d noticed how much you cared about him. You waited and waited and waited, but it never happened. All the efforts you made to be the perfect girlfriend for him always went unnoticed, brushed to the side. 
You always made sure you looked your best whenever you’d go to his game, wanting to fit the role of the stereotype hockey girlfriend, even though you were far from it. Your body wasn’t as slim and fit as the others and you didn’t have a model like face, but Luca always though you were perfect. You didn’t believe most of time, there were hundreds of girl, prettier girls, that would jump at the occasion to be his girlfriend, so why had he chosen you? 
You went to every single home game, even if it’d meant you’d have to stay up late to do homework, you even went to the games at Michigan State. You were always there to support him, but he was never there for you. You knew it was hard for him to always be free, not having access to his phone for a solid three hours during the afternoon, and when he’d get back to his dorm, he’d fall asleep right away. You never really saw him much during the days, with him having all his classes in the morning, while yours were mainly in the afternoon, nights were the only time you could see each other. 
Even when you spent time together, it was rarely alone. He was close to all his teammates and apparently spending all afternoon together wasn’t enough for them and they always needed to spend their nights together. You two barely ever got alone time, but you tried not to think about it too much since Luca was always more focused on you than his teammates sprawled around his shared dorm room. 
His teammates liked you, you were nice to all of them the moment you met them and they could see how much Luca liked you. Some of them didn’t really understand what he saw in you, something you wish you didn’t know as you overheard them one night during a get together at the senior house. 
You had been outside for a while now, talking to your mom on the phone as you walked around the small backyard of the senior house. Luca was with you for the first couple of minutes of your call, talking to your mom a bit before heading back inside and letting you have alone time with her. As you started making your way back to the backdoor, you saw a couple of figures standing there, nothing unsual. You were planning on just walking past them, smiling at them and letting them go along with their conversation until you heard your name. 
“Wait, who are we talking about again?” Dylan asked the others, before taking a sip of his beer. 
“Y/n.” You heard Johnny answer, and you stopped dead in your tracks. You knew you shouldn’t, it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see you since you were on the side of the porch, and no lights were they, you were like a ghost. 
“Oh, yeah, totally agree with you man. Don’t get me wrong, she’d nice and all, but like she barely ever talks.” The Duke boy said, making a couple other guys agree with him. 
“Exactly, what does he even see in her, anyways?” One of them said, making your smile drop. 
“She’s just shy, doesn’t like big groups, that’s all. Once you get to know her, she’s always talking, it’s great ‘cause Luca leaves me alone now. She’s makes him happy, that’s all the really matters.” You recognized Adam say, making your smile grow a little. Over the last six months, you had grown quite close to your boyfriend’s little brother, and hearing him defend you warmed your heart. 
“Dude, all we’re saying is he could do better.” 
“Whatever, I’m going back inside.” Adam said, and soon you heard the door open and all the figures disappeared. You stood there for a while, thinking about everything that you had heard. Your feelings being hurt a little before shaking it all off and walking back inside, quickly finding your boyfriend, who was standing with his brother. 
You never told Luca, or any of them that you had heard their conversation. You knew Luca would get mad at his teammates, and that was the last thing you wanted. You did realize that after that night, Adam started being even nicer to you, always telling you how happy you made your brother, and how thankful he was that you were the one making him this happy. He truly felt like your own little brother in a way.
But something in you changed that day, whenever you’d be having the smallest interaction with any of them, there would always be a voice in the back of your mind reminding you of that conversation. So, you didn’t make much effort to become good friends with any of them, clearly most of you didn’t even think you should be dating their teammate so why would they want to be friends with you? 
Luca wasn’t exactly happy that you weren’t that close to anyone, but you were with Adam, so he considered it a win. He always reminded himself that just because his teammates were his best friend didn’t mean they had to be yours too, he just happy none of them hated you. 
As time went by, you’d now notice some of the weird looks his teammates would give themselves whenever you’d hug Luca after their game, or when you’d be with him at a party and his arms was always around you. But you didn’t let it bother you, you were happy in your relationship, you didn’t need the opinion of other’s, and honestly, they didn’t really have a right to be judging two people for being in love with one another. 
You didn’t know whether or not your boyfriend knew about how some of his best friends felt about your relationship, but you really hoped he didn’t. If he did, it would break you, that he knew what his friends were saying and thinking, but didn’t defend you like his brother had, or that he hadn’t told you about it. 
That all changed one cold night in February.
You were currently standing outside of the Yost arena, Luca had texted you barely minutes before telling you to go wait outside for him. You didn’t really understand why, considering how cold it was, but you did anyways. No one else was around, all the spectators had left almost an hour ago, and all the other girlfriends were waiting inside, in the warmth of the arena. 
“Hey.” You heard your boyfriends voice, making you turn around with a bright smile. 
“Hi, baby. You played amazing!” You told him, rushing over to his warm body and hiding in his arms. The boy chuckled a bit before wrapping his arms around you. 
“I need to talk to you about something.” He mumbled after a couple of seconds, making you pull away from his body. Your hands reached down to his arms, that had fallen from your shoulders, your mittens covered hands holding his bare ones. 
“What’s up, loves?” You asked, only to be met with a sigh from him. Your smile dropped right away, what was going on? 
“I need you to know that I am sorry, okay?” You nodded slightly, confused as to why he was saying that. “I think it’d be better if we weren’t together anymore.”
“What?” 
“I just- I need to focus on hockey, and school.” 
“Oh.” You whispered, your hands letting go of his and falling next to your body. A heavy sigh left your mouth as you tried your hardest not to cry. “O-okay.” 
“So, we’re good?” His question broke you. Not you weren’t, you were far from good. The boy you had fallen in love with in early September had just broken up with you, how were you supposed to be okay with that?
“We’re good.” You lied. Luca smile brightly before giving you and small hug, and before you knew it, he was gone. You were left all alone outside in the freezing cold as he headed back to his friends, ready to enjoy their night, while you were left heartbroken. 
Maybe his friends were right after all…
Forgive and I forget
I know my age and I act like it
Got what you can’t resist
I’m a perfect all-American
The next week was hell, everywhere you went, you’d see one of his teammates. It was like they had all mutually agreed to just be everywhere you were, follow you around just to make you remember every single second of every day that your relationship with Luca was over. 
But clearly he hadn’t even told him, the text from Adam asking if you two had gotten into a fight since you hadn’t been to their dorm in a couple of days, and Luca was talking about everything but you. Your feelings were hurt a little, that he wasn’t even acting like your break-up fazed him at all, like everything in his life was perfect. It hurt even more that you had to be the one to break to news to his brother, scared that Adam would choose to break off all links of communication the two of you had. 
Luckily for you, he didn’t, if anything, to him it just gave you an extra reason to become even closer to him. He knew how much you loved his brother and how much Luca loved you, so he truly didn’t understand why his older brother had done it in the first place. Just because you and Luca weren’t together anymore, didn’t mean you had to lose him too, were his exact words. You knew in that moment that you had a real friend in Adam, one that you wanted to keep for the rest of your life. 
You hadn’t gone to any hockey game after that, no matter how much Adam begged, you weren’t ready to go back to the place where your relationship ended. But when the team had made it to the semi-finals of the big ten championship, facing off again Ohio State, you knew you had to be there. Even though you weren’t physically at the games, you were still watching from home, your heart dropping every time Luca’s name would be mentioned. 
Being back felt weird, it was a place you had grown so fond off, watching your boyfriend and your so-called friends play the sports they love with each other, befriending all the other girlfriends, it was truly special. But it was so different now, you felt like you didn’t belong here anymore. Adam had tried to convince you to seat in the same seat Luca always had for you, but you didn’t want to, not wanting to face all the other girlfriends yet. 
You came with your best friends, so you wouldn’t be alone, and made sure to be near the back rows, you knew the boys always liked to spot people in the crowds, and you didn’t want them to know you were here. You had made Adam promise not to tell anyone you were here, and that you’d wait for him after the game in your car all the way at the end of the parking lot. He was the only one on the team you wanted to see tonight, you came here for him and only him, and because your best friends wouldn’t shut up about going. 
Unknown to you, Luca had spotted you the minute he stepped onto the ice. He hated to admit it, but his eyes still searched for you in the crowd, only he was always met with disappointment when he would not find you. Tonight was different, you were here. Part of him felt like he should be happy you were, or even sad, seeing as it was the first he’d seen you since the break-up. But he wasn’t, no he was angry. Why? He didn’t know. 
After the game ended, with Adam getting two goals and two assists, your friends had gone home right away, tired from all the yelling they had done during the night. So, you waited alone in your car, making sure to park right under a street light so Adam could spot you easily, and so you could see if any weirdos were approaching. 
Luca had left before his brother, Johnny and Gavin walking next to him as they walked out of Yost, and that’s when he saw your car. He knew he should’ve just ignored it, kept walking home, but he couldn’t. He knew you were here for his brother and him only, Adam had told him after Luca corned him after the warm ups. The right thing was to just leave you alone, pretend he didn’t see you, but his legs were moving faster than his brain was. 
The loud knock on your window made you jump, yelping at bit at the sound. You looked to your left, only to be met with an angry Luca. You bit your lip slightly before rolling down your window enough so you two could hear each other. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked. His tone was harsh and mean, something you had never heard from him before. 
“I am here for Adam, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to step away from my car and leave me alone.” You answered him, matching his tone. If he wanted to be a bitch to you after he broke up with you, then he better be expecting the same energy back. 
“You shouldn’t be here.” 
“And who are you to be telling me this? Last time I checked, this is a public parking lot, so I have every right to be here.” You said, you knew that wasn’t what he meant, but you didn’t care. He had no right to walk over here, and talk to you like this. 
“You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” 
“Am I not allowed to cheer for my school? Is that illegal now, Luca?” You said harshly. Luca’s eyes were staring into yours, and you could tell he was holding back from yelling, which scared you a little. 
“You have some nerves-” 
“Oh, I have some nerves? You broke up with me, Luca, not the other way around, and your stupid if you think that’s gonna stop me from coming to see Adam play. I am not here because I wanted to see, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Adam. So, get whatever stick you have shoved up your ass out of it and leave me alone.” You said firmly before closing your window and going back on your phone. Luca started knocking over and over on your window, but you didn’t move. You were done with this for the night. After about a minute or two, the boy ended up sending you a text, making you roll your eyes. 
Luca 
ur so fucking petty omg, grow the fuck up and get out of your car
You let out a scoff before turning to look at him with a ‘are you serious’ face. If you were being petty, you didn’t even know what word was describing him at the moment. Thankfully, Adam arrived and the two of them began bickering like little children until the older boy eventually walked away, not before sending you a death glare, and the younger one joined you in your car. 
You started driving immediately, neither of you talked, but you feel Adam’s gaze on you every once in a while. This was exactly why you didn’t want to come to the games before, something was bound to go wrong. 
“I am sorry.” He mumbled after a couple of minutes as the car was stopped at a red light. When you turned your head to look over at him, his eyes were already looking in your direction. 
“It’s whatever. He’s an asshole.” 
I am light as a feather, I’m as fresh as the air
Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair
I got class and integrity
Just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear
With love to spare, I
About a week later, you were laying in bed, your laptop on your lap as you watched the team celebrate their win. Adam had played wonderfully and you couldn’t be prouder of him. Your heart still dropped a little every time the commentators would mention Luca, and even more when they showed the boys after the game. 
You knew it was wrong, you shouldn’t be thinking this way, but you couldn’t help it. He looked so good with his slightly damp hair, the wide smile on his face as he hugged all of his best friends making you smile as well. But you quickly reminded yourself of what he had done and said, making you close your laptop in a heartbeat. 
You then sent a text to Adam, congratulating him for their victory before going to bed. Well, you just laid in bed in the dark, your phone’s screen being the only source of light. Adam answered you almost an hour later, thanking you and saying he’d call you the next morning. You went to sleep not too long after answering him, wishing him a good night and a safe flight home. 
It was almost noon when the younger Fantili boy called you the next day, you could tell he had gone to bed very late, well early this morning. His voice was still a little stuffy like he had just woken up, making you giggle. The two of you chated for a while before he informed you the hockey team was throwing a party that was pretty much open to all students. He hadn’t invited you directly, but made sure to state very clearly that you were always welcomed if you wanted to stop by for a bit. 
You almost laughed at his words, he was a little delusional if he though you’d like the spend the night with your drunk ex who’d probably be making out with a girl the whole time. He was a little sad when you told him you probably wouldn’t come, but he understood, especially after whatever Luca had said to you last week. 
Weirdly enough though, as the clock hit seven at night, you were standing in your bathroom, getting ready for said party. Why? Revenge. You knew deep down what you were about to do was fucked up, but you didn’t care. They deserved it, all of them, Luca more than the other, but they still did. All those people who pretended to be your friend, only to act like you didn’t even exist the moment you and Luca broke up. Not to mention that conversation you over heard was constantly replaying in your head since your break-up. Yeah, they deserved it. 
Realistically, your plan wasn’t that mean, you’d just be ruining a night celebrating a victory they had worked so hard for during  the whole season. You had gotten some information through Adam that the boys always “shit talked” some of the other girlfriends, of course without mentioning what you had heard from them. Long story short, at least one of them all had a problem with someone’s girlfriend, but they never said anything to the boyfriends. Pretty fake in your opinion, because truth be told, they weren’t really brothers like they always said, they didn’t like some at least. 
When you walked into the senior house, the place wasn’t that full, but this wasn’t any surprise to you considering it had started almost four hours ago already and most people had probably went home by now. Finding Adam was pretty easy, he was in the kitchen refilling his cup when you gently tapped his shoulder. A wide smile appeared on his face when his eyes met yours and his arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 
“You came?” He asked surprised as the two of you pulled away and he grabbed an empty clean cup for you. 
“Got a little bored, I guess.” You told him, filling your cup with water. You hadn’t came here to get drunk out of your mind like all the others here, you came here with an endgame. 
“Well ‘m glad you did. I think I saw that girl you always talk about from your English class, you-” 
“Cool, I’ll go find her!” You lied before walking away from him. Honestly, you didn’t really care that she was here, your eyes not bothering to find her as you walked through the house, spotting the group of girlfriends immediately. They were all chatting between them, but quickly stopped when they realized you were standing there. 
“Oh, please, don’t let my presence disturb your little conversation.” You said with a smirk, only making all of them look at you with weird looks. 
“What’re you doing here?” Ethan’s girlfriend, Hailey, asked. The two of you were never really close, same with Nolan’s girlfriend, Taylor. 
“I just really wanted to say how it’s so cute that you’re all able to be friends with each other and like one another, unlike all the guys. Real cute.” 
“The fuck does that mean?” This time it was Jacob’s girlfriend, Bianca, who spoke. You looked over at her, sending a massive grin before answering. 
“I am just saying, some of them are real good at pretending to be your friends, but then go shit talk about you to each other.” You said, before showing them the text message Adam had sent you. It clearly stated that they all talked about the other guys’ girlfriends badly, but never in front of whoever they were dating. Clearly just showing that they’re “we’re brothers” thing they’d always say whenever a new girlfriend was introduced was complete bullshit. 
“How do we know it’s not fake?” 
“It happened to me too. Heard a couple of them talking about me outside one night. Go ask your boyfriends if you don’t believe me.” You shrugged before walking away from them. A smirk was plastered on your face as you stood outside, sipping on your water, knowing the girls were confronting the boys at the same moment. 
You were standing outside for a couple of minutes before Adam joined you, giving you a stern look.
“What’d you do?” 
“Nothing.” You said, your smirk only growing as you looked inside, the house now empty of all the strangers. The only people left were the players and their girlfriends, who all looked like they were not having a pleasant conversation. Well, that was until all the guys started yelling at each other. 
“Y/n.” Adam mumbled sternly, making you roll your eyes. 
“I just told them the truth. About how you all talk shit about them behind their backs, but then none of you have the guts to say it to each other. I mean, why would they right, you couldn’t tell me or Luca.” Suddenly, you found yourself angry at the boy in front of you. He had let both you and Luca that your couple was loved by all of them, let you believe they were all your friends. His face turned white at your words, only making you scoff. 
“Y/n…”
“It’s pathetic really, all that bullshit about you guys being like brothers, but then you pull some shit like this.” You cut him off. Right as Adam was about to say something else, the sliding door behind you opened and your body was pulled inside the house.
Forgive and I forget
I know my age and I act like it
Got what you can’t resist
I’m a perfect all-American Bitch
With perfect all-American lips
And perfect all-American hips
I know my place
I know my place and this is it
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Someone asked as you now stood infront of everyone, all the guys looking at you with angry eyes, while the girls all hugged each other, some of them crying. 
“I think the real question here is, what the fuck is wrong with all of you? Talk shit behind our backs and then acting like your our friends five minutes later. If you don’t like someone, don’t fucking pretend like you do and then shit talk them when they can hear you.” You spat, your eyes looking between all of them until you spotted Luca, who was standing all alone in a corner. “Hoping that your “brother’s” goes to shit ‘cause you don’t like who they’re dating. Seriously, how old are you? How insecure of yourself do you have to be to say things like this?” 
The house was silent after, all the girls were nodding at your words. The boys, well at least the guilty ones, all looked at the ground, while the innocent ones looked angry and pissed, but not at you anymore, at each other. 
When none of them said anything for a solid minutes, you just scoffed and made your way out of the house. You had done what you came here to do. You started walking down the sidewalk, back towards your dorm, when you heard someone call out your name. You turned around, only to see Luca chasing after you. 
“I didn’t know, I swear-” 
“I know you didn’t, Luca.” You cut him off with a soft smile. 
“I didn’t break up with you because of them. I really like you, I really do. You’re amazing, Y/n. But, I just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” He explained, your smile turning into a sad one. 
“I get it. I want you to be happy, Lu, and if that means us not being together, then I’m okay with it.” It pained you to say it, but it was true. All you wanted for the boy was to be happy, and if that meant you having to leave his life, you were okay with it. 
“‘M not saying never, though. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Like… I don’t how to explain it-”
“Right person, wrong time?” You asked with a slight smirk on his face, making the boy in front of you smile slightly. 
“Yeah.” 
“Let me know whenever the right time comes, yeah?” You asked softly, the boy nodding slightly before resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’m sorry about how I broke up with you, you deserved a better explanation.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he let his body relax. Your right hand moved up, cupping his cheek and you could feel him lean into your touch. 
“It’s okay, Lulu.” 
“But it’s not. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done it that way. And I shouldn’t have came to your car and talked to you like that. I am so sorry, baby.” He said, as snow started falling from the sky. You could tell how deeply he meant his words, his voice cracking slightly. 
“Hey, look at me.” You whispered, gently tapping his cheek that you were still holding. After a couple of seconds his eyes opened and stared right back at yours. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.”
“You should hate me.” 
“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Luca.” You admitted, bitting your lip gently as the boy smiled down at you. “I really need to go home.” 
“I’ll walk you.” 
“It’s alright. I think they need you more than I do.” You said, nodding towards the senior house, making Luca sigh a bit. 
“Always have to clean up your mess, don’t I?” He joked, making you giggle slightly. 
“I’ll see you around, Lu.” You mumbled before pressing a kiss to his other cheek and walking away from him. The Fantili boy stood there for a bit, a smile on his face as he watched you make your way back to your dorm. Once you disappeared at the end of the street, the boy turned around and slowly started making his way back to the house. 
When he walked in, all the girls were gone, and the boys were now just all yelling at each other. Some were trying to calm the tension that was rising in the room, but didn’t succeed. Only, when Luca walked in, the room went quiet and everyone looked at him. Luca’s eyes found Adam’s, and the younger boy immediately knew what had happened out there, well almost. He for sure thought they had gotten back together, but he was close enough. 
“God, don’t tell me you got back with her?” Johnny said harshly, making Luca’s smile flatten as he looked over to his “best friend”. 
“Why do you care? Last time I check, who I date isn’t any of your business.” Luca sassed, making his younger brother smile slightly. 
“She ruined the night!” One of the guys called out, making Luca roll his eyes. 
“She said the truth. Maybe if you guys hadn’t talked behind their backs, none of this would’ve happened. I’m going home.” The boy mumbled before leaving the senior household once again, Adam following behind him. 
“So, are you guys back together?” The forward asked after a couple of minutes of them walking back to their dorm. 
“No. But, in the future we will, I know it.”
All the time
I’m grateful all the time
I’m sexy and I’m kind
I’m pretty when I cry
Oh, all the time
I’m grateful all the time (Greatful all the fucking time)
I’m sexy and I’m kind
I’m pretty when I cry
When summer came around, you had promised both Fantili boys you’d keep close touch with them, especially Adam since he’d be heading off to Columbus next season, which pained you a little, but you were happy for him. 
As the months passed by, you and Luca talked more and more every day, something Adam noticed and was quick to bring up to his brother. Luca was smiling at his phone all the time, and overall was just in a better mood than when you two had broken up. The older brother shrugged him off, claiming he was imaginating things, but they both knew it was a lie. 
You were over the moon when you arrived in Michigan, only to find that both brothers were already there, and a time to meet was quickly set. During your little hang out, it was clear to Adam that you and Luca were truly meant to be together, you both had giant smiles whenever you’d be talking to the other. For a majority of the night, it was mainly just the two of you in your own little world, but Adam didn’t care, Luca was happy, you were happy, and that’s all that mattered to him. 
“Don’t fuck this up, dude.” Adam whispered in his brother’s ear as the two of them hugged goodbye. Luca had admitted to him that he was planning on asking you out soon, something that almost made the younger boy scream. 
“I won’t.” And he didn’t. He asked you out, again, and you said yes, again, a week later. The two of you were just hanging in your dorm, you were complaining about how much homework you already had when he just blurred the question out. You were a little shock, but quickly agreed. 
When Luca told his teammates the two of you were back together, he received some questioning looks, but he just ignored them. He thought you were perfect, and that’s all that mattered to him. He didn’t care if his friends didn’t like you, he did and they’d need to learn how to deal with you being around even if they didn’t like you. 
You made him happy, and that’s all they should care about.
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Cold as ice II
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a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍
summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.
This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.
warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.
"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.
"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.
Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.
Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.
If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.
"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.
"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."
That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.
"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.
You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.
You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.
"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.
"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".
All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.
"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.
This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.
"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.
"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.
Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.
Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.
"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.
"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.
"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.
"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.
1K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 2 months
Text
she's like the wind
knight!luke masterlist
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
summary: you and luke get a reality check.
a/n: ive been on the hurricane train lately but knight!luke still has me in a chokehold lol so here's a lil blurb for you all! based off of this request; title from the patrick swayze song bc are you kidding me "just a fool to believe i am anything she needs" UGH you're everything she needs it's just that neither of you know it yet
wc: 1.8k
warning(s): angst lol! discussions of arranged marriages, luke is sad, princess is sad and a little mean bc she goes into princess mode, they both place their duty above their feelings </3
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okay sooooo
last time we left off you and Luke had a nice lil moonlight dance in your room after you both had to get through a ball 
and things have been pretty good since then! nothing is awkward between the two of you (sometimes being oblivious towards the depth of your feelings is a good thing) and you’re back to joking around w each other all the time
but you’re the princess and things can never be easy for you. Your whole day (and not to be dramatic but basically your whole life) is ruined by a private meeting with your parents. 
It’s marriage. obviously it’s marriage. 
Your kingdom needs allies at a moment like this and marriage is the easiest way to do it so. like. the sooner the better princess!!! 
and like you KNEW it was coming. You knew there was really no way to avoid it. that doesn’t mean you naively hoped you could. 
But it’s one thing for a prince to court you at a ball for the night and forget him as soon as you get home. 
It’s another thing entirely for that prince and his parents to visit your kingdom and stay for a week. which is exactly what’s going to happen. 
During that meeting, your parents tell you that the prince of the kingdom that held the last ball (the one that both sets of parents want you to marry, the one that gave you a tour, the one that is the most boring man alive) and his parents will be staying in the castle
And while your parents will be talking with his, trying to secure an alliance for any kind of protection, they’ve encouraged you to spend time with him, make him feel welcome, forge a bond, make him like you. 
“Why?” you ask. You know the answer, you know what they’re implying, but you want them to say it out loud. You want them to resign you to this fate themselves. 
“Because if all goes well, he will be courting you within the month,” your father says, and yeah, it does make you feel worse now that he’s blatantly said it. you didn’t really know what your plan was there. 
“It is the best decision for all of us, darling,” your mother says. 
You fight them over it. obviously. but it’s no good, and you leave the room absolutely fuming. 
Thankfully, Luke is busy training, because you don’t think that you could explain this to him right now. 
But you don’t tell him even when he later accompanies you to the library. Or when he asks you how your day went. Or when he asks in five different ways if you’re okay. 
Luke knows something is off almost immediately when he meets up with you again because 1. he knows you. 2. you won’t look him in the eye 3. HE KNOWS YOU BFFR
but he doesn’t push it, and you’re eternally thankful. 
Why, you may ask? Because you don’t want to talk to Luke about this kind of thing. 
Why, you may ask again? Because you’re in love with him and don’t know it yet. 
But because you don’t know it yet, you just feel weird talking about stuff like that with him. Even thinking about it around him. It was bad enough when Luke had to accompany you and the prince around the past week—you can’t imagine Luke being around when you’re trying to charm this guy. 
He’s going to find out eventually, namely when said prince arrives in the castle, but you just can not bring yourself to tell him. 
Thankfully, you don’t have to! Because he’s one of the kingsguard and one of the first things they do that next morning is discuss security for the incoming royal family. And even though Luke figures it all out pretty quickly, he figures it out even quicker with the immediate gossip through the servants and maids. 
And listen. 
He knows his place. He knows he’s a knight, he knows he’s your knight, and he knows that his duty is to keep you safe no matter what. He knows just as well as you do that you would be married off eventually, but just like you, he chose to naively ignore that fact for as long as he can. 
And it’s not just you that he has a promise to—when he asked your father to let him be your personal guard, he swore himself to your protection and to stay away from you in that regard. Luke lied and said he would never think of it, but he’s had a thing for you since you were kids. 
Luke guesses he thought he would get over it as he grew, but he’s only fallen harder for you with the years. He’s got himself stuck between a rock and a hard place and he’s got no one to blame but himself. 
But he feels like his teeth are going to crack with how hard he clenches his jaw during the entire meeting. It was difficult enough maintaining his front while the prince showed you around the castle—Luke doesn’t know how he’s going to survive your parents’ most open attempt at arranging marriage thus far. 
At least he has a reason to go see you right after. He is your guard, after all. 
The bigger problem is the correct timing. Luke can tell that you’re upset the instant he’s in your proximity, and he doesn’t want to upset you further in his quest for answers. 
But near the end of the day, when he’s escorted you back to your room after dinner and you’re beginning to take off your jewelry, he finally speaks up. 
“Princess,” Luke said, standing in the doorway, “may I have a word?” 
Your body tensed and your hands stopped on the clasp of a bracelet. You knew what was coming, but you nodded nonetheless. You didn’t know if you would be able to speak with the dryness of your throat. 
You heard the door close behind you, and you busied yourself taking off the rest of your jewelry as Luke began. 
“I’ve heard the royal family of Birchmund is visiting,” he said. 
You wet your lips and swallowed, trying to alleviate the cotton in your mouth. “You’re correct.” 
“And I’ve heard… other things,” he continued. “Of their prince. And you.” 
You closed your jewelry box with a bit too much force. “The decision of my parents.” 
“I figured.” Luke cleared his throat, and you still couldn’t stand to look at him. “What… what is going to happen?” 
“Luke,” you started, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.” 
“Please, princess,” he said. “I… merely want to know what to expect. If you are to be accompanying him most of the week, I’ll have to adjust my own schedule.” 
You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, steeling yourself before you finally turned around to face him. “My parents want me to get him on our side, Luke. It will be easier to forge an alliance if we have a good relationship, and it will be easier to—” You paused, closing your eyes for a moment before you finished. “To negotiate a marriage if he already likes me.” 
And Luke just stared at you. You didn’t know what he wanted from you, why he wanted to hear you say it. Probably the same reason you wanted to hear your parents say it—to know it was truly real. 
“You don’t want this,” Luke said. His voice was quieter, but his posture hadn’t changed. Always a knight. 
“What I want doesn’t matter,” you said. 
“You’re a person too,” he insisted. “You deserve to go after what you want.” 
“I am a princess before I am a person.” You turned back around and started removing your jewelry again—you needed something to focus on. “I want what is necessary for my kingdom.” 
“Princess.” Luke sounded a little desperate, now. “This— it’s so formal. This isn’t how we talk to each other. We’re friends above everything.” 
Your skin burned where his fingers brushed over your neck, where he held you while you danced. Luke was your closest friend, but— but you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him so close and yearn for so much that you can never have, while the prince you might have to marry stood on your other side. 
“Maybe my priorities have been wrong.” You planted your hands on your vanity to prevent them from shaking. “What I want doesn’t matter. If I can prevent a war by offering my hand, it is my duty to do so.” 
“We…” you swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. “We cannot keep doing this. It would be an embarrassment to any prince for his betrothed to be so attached to her knight.” 
“We’re friends,” Luke insisted. “We always have been. No prince that desires your hand could understand even the slightest bit of what we’ve been through together.” 
“No,” you agreed. “But that means little in the scheme of everything else.” 
Luke’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “This can’t possibly make you happy.” 
“What I want doesn’t matter,” you repeated, stronger this time. “This kingdom matters more than— than my childish desires. They depend on us for their protection, and I owe it to each and every one of my people to do all I can to ensure that protection.” 
“Princess—” Luke started, because you both knew what you were referring to, but you held up a hand and it stopped him in his tracks. 
“You are my knight,” you said. “And I am your princess. Eventually, I will be queen. My parents have told me I need to look to the future, to stop with silly trifles before they become more.” 
“It’s more than that,” he said quietly. “You’re my best friend. You’re the reason I’m standing here today.” 
“You act as if your duty is to die for me,” you continued. “But your duty is to keep me safe. And this is how I stay safe—by following the word of my parents and securing it myself.” 
“So this is your solution,” Luke attempted. “To try and ruin our friendship in the name of a marriage you don’t want.” 
“You may retire for the night, Sir Castellan,” you said, and your words rang hollow. “I’d like to be alone.” 
He stared at you, dark eyes indecipherable, but he nodded and moved to the door. Before he shut it, his gaze met yours again. 
“You may not care about what you want,” Luke said quietly. “But I do. And my loyalty is to you, princess. Not your parents. And certainly no prince.” 
Then he bowed, and he closed the door quietly behind him. 
but that night, when you settle into your silken sheets and luke takes his place in the barracks, you think of each other as you fall asleep and you dream of each other once you are.
the ties between you are not so easily broken. 
304 notes · View notes
sailoryooons · 9 months
Note
Okay hear me out, but maybe a little bit of enemies to lovers, little bit of smutty goodness between witch hunter!yoongi and witch!reader?? Idk why this popped in my head but I’m kind of desperate to see a little something now lol.
Also, I love you ❤️
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❀ Pairing: Witch hunter!Yoongi x f. witch!reader
❀ Summary: For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 
❀ Word Count: 4188 
❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, a hint of angst, smut
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
❀ Warnings: On screen character death (not permanent though), depictions of blood and intense action sequences, scary demon thing, depiction of weapons, hints at violence between two groups of people, mild world building, a bit of angst, explicit language, explicit sexual content featuring light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional sex, a lot of spit, UNEDITED. 
❀ Published: August 3, 2023
❀ A/N: I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to control myself with some of these ideas because god dammit Sarah, I want to turn this into more than ~4k of a work. Like this idea inspired me so much, you have no idea how insane I wanted to go on this but I had to CONTROL MYSELF because I promised that this year I would keep it tame. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that this is like 90% plot and 10% smut but I kept inching toward 5k and I was like I HAVE GOT TO STOP MYSELF JESUS CHRIST and dkfgjdiogjfoigjg I am telling you right now, I want to come back and revisit this fic and makie it like a four chapter thing or something because GOD I LOVED THIS IDEA AND YOU KNEW JUST WHAT TO REQUEST. Also this is unedited!!!!
❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Song Inspiration |
Most nights, Yoongi dreams of you. He knows better, and yet he can’t help himself. It’s like you’re living under his skin, a virus that has taken root in the marrow of his bones. He doesn’t know how he would dig you out if he tried.
If he tried. 
If anyone from the Conclave knew the dangerous game that Yoongi is playing, he would be ousted or killed. Killing would be the mercy, but he’s garnered enough hate within the elite members of the Conclave to know they’d rather him suffer cut off from his resources. His friends. His family. 
Still, Yoongi walks a dangerous line. He knows it’s wrong, letting a witch infect him like a sickness. He is sure that he’s under your spell. There’s no other explanation for the way he always lets you slip away. For the way he closes his eyes and imagines the flutter of your heart against his, the sound of your gasps, the warmth of your hands.
Stars explode behind Yoongi’s eyes as he presses the heels of his hands into them. He’s exhausted, limbs heavy and sore from a day of bloody work. The activity downtown has only worsened the last few months, making Yoongi hunt multiple times a day and return home banged up. 
The pain he can handle. Witches and their demons are nothing new to him. But he knows there’s something he’s missing, something lurking beneath the surface of the increased activity and the strong demonic presence in the city.
Yoongi knows he could ask you. He’s thought about it a few times over the last few weeks but he’s talked himself out of it each time. The curiosity has always lingered there, waiting for him to ask in those moments where you cross his path, coy and sharp as ever. In the minutes you linger, shooting him insults he thinks you don’t mean and playing little word games. 
He doesn’t ask, though. And you never offer, despite the fact that your sharp eyes and knowing smirk lead him to believe you know he wants to ask. 
Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t. Not giving you what you want is part of the fun. He likes the way it makes you bristle, magic crackling at your fingertips. He loves the way it makes you narrow your eyes at him, lobbing empty threats that make him want to purr. 
Whatever this effect you have on him is potent. He can’t shake you off, can’t outrun you. 
And worse, he doesn’t want to.
Rain begins to beat on the bedroom window outside. Though his limbs are heavy from slogging through the sewer system downtown after a witch and her ivax demon, he’s a little too keyed up to sleep. Yoongi senses something staticy in the air, an energy that he can’t name.
Opening up his phone, he flips through his text threads with members of the Conclave. It seems everyone is in it tonight, the demonic activity buzzing and the monsters worse than usual. He frowns when he sees Seokjin mention a prowler crawling through the warehouse district. Yoongi knows that’s where you live and an unexpected sense of unease slivers down his spine.
He locks his phone and tosses it on the bed. He doesn’t need to worry about you. You’re one of the most skilled witches in the city and you’ve killed scores of demons and others alike. He should remove your head for the number of hunters you’ve put in the ground, but you’ve killed triple that in witches. 
Which is why you’re alone. It’s not lost on Yoongi that you’re a witch without a coven and with unusual alliances living in a warehouse all alone with a prowler on the loose. If you know it’s there - you have to know it’s there, being you - he knows you’ll go after it. 
“Fuck,” he sighs at the ceiling. 
Grabbing his phone, Yoongi sends off a quick text. 
Yoongi: Anyone dispatching to take care of the prowler?
Councilman Haer: Negative. The Conclave will not be dispatching. The Warehouse District is not critical and it’ll go back down after it’s satiated. Prowlers aren’t controlled by witches, it might even take a few out for us.
Yoongi stomach flips as he squeezes his phone tight before getting up. He’s tired of the Conclave’s inaction. He knows he’ll get in trouble for going after something so dangerous without backup, but he can’t ask Seokjin and Hoseok to back him up on this one. Not unauthorized, and not for something so dangerous. 
Unsanctioned hunts is exactly how Yoongi has ended up at the bottom of the pool among Conclave members, but he doesn’t care. Politics can’t erase the fact that he’s the best fucking hunter in the city, and no councilman who won’t get their hands dirty can give him grief for doing what needs to be done.
This isn’t about the Conclave, though. Yoongi knows it. Seokjin would know it, if Yoongi told him what he was doing. But the thought of a prowler tearing through the low-income streets in the Warehouse District doesn’t resonate with him. Neither does knowing that you are one of the witches in the line of fire. 
Yoongi dresses and arms himself with military proficiency. A black, long-sleeved shirt with a form-fitted leather vest over it to prevent most stabs and cuts, knives sheathed along the ribbing of the vest, breathable pants with a tactical belt and pockets full of hunting necessities, and his necklace with the Conclave helix. 
At the last second, he grabs a jacket and pulls the hood up to keep the beating rain from soaking him through. While he has some talent with magic to help him heal faster and make his blows stronger and faster, he’s not skilled in the way of weather or anything advanced enough to keep him dry and comfortable. 
Nervousness settles into him as he takes the subway to the Warehouse District. It’s not far, but the train is empty and filled with dirty puddles left behind from passengers. Lights flicker above as the subway rockets unevening on the tracks, making him dizzy. 
When he steps off the train and into the wet underground of the station entrance, he knows something is amiss. His fingers twitch as he jogs up the steps, boots splashing loudly as the rain comes down. Wind whips at him here and when he hears a crack of thunder too loud and rumbling to be human, his instincts kick in.
Yoongi takes off running. He knows where your warehouse-turned-loft is. He’d originally scouted it out to eliminate you. Now, it’s something he’s always kept an eye on, steering other hunters away from your home. It’s silly, he knows. You’d call him weak if you knew, probably. And yet he does it, diverting danger coming your way when he can.
Now, danger is already there. 
The storm rages harder as he heads your direction. Wind pushes at him, making Yoongi lock his muscles as he fights the freezing cold rain and the debris that blows down the street with the force of the storm. He hopes that it keeps people indoors and away from the prowler. 
But Yoongi sees the purple lighting lance out of the sky, an explosion of radiant beauty for a moment before it strikes nearby, blowing transforms into white sparks and he realizes what is so uncanny about this storm. 
It’s you. You’re the storm. 
A roar of rage shakes the air as he comes around the corner to your street. The warehouse you live in is at the end of the road right up against the bay. The wind is mixed with salt spray, stinging his eyes as he runs towards the shadowy outline of your building, nearly impossible to see in the rain and night.
Yoongi manages to roll one of the heavy doors open to your loft, muscles screaming with effort. Stepping inside, chaos greets him. The ceiling is blown out above your home, rain pouring in from the sky. It tastes like lightning and blood. No doubt your storm is what ripped the ceiling apart, but when he sees the prowler, he doesn’t blame you. 
A massive creature stands ten feet tall, rippling with leathered hide and spikes on its back. Long, gangly limbs drag on the floor with black, sharpened talons on the end of each of its three fingers. The prowler walks awkwardly and Yoongi notes the scorch mark in its left shoulder, making it lean as it drags itself toward its intended target. 
Which is you, laying on the ground bloody and rain soaked. Yoongi doesn’t even think. He has no idea if you’re conscious or not, but he’s moving across the room, putting power into his step as he pulls out two of his daggers and jumps high up into the air. 
Yoongi’s intent is to land on the back of the prowler and sink each blade in as he falls. He doesn’t anticipate the demon to turn away from bloodied prey, but it does, swinging its arm wildly to bat him away. He’s lucky that the forearm catches him in the stomach and sends him flying and not the flaws.
Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Yoongi is surprised when he doesn’t slam into a wall. He opens his eyes to see himself floating toward the floor, suspended briefly before the phantom energy drops him gently. He lands with shock, looking up to where you’re sitting up, one hand extended toward him.
At least you weren’t out cold or dead. Yoongi is really happy that you’re not dead, but it’s cut short as the prowler charges him. 
This time, Yoongi’s ready. He runs at the beast, waiting until he’s right outside of the window of its swiping claws before he dives to his knees, sliding under the creature and between its legs. He twists his hands, cutting the inside of the creature’s thighs as he goes.
It shrieks, shaking the building and scattering Yoongi’s thoughts. He feels fizzy and confused for a moment, the mind breaking scream of the prowler enough to make him vulnerable. He feels a hand on his face and he looks up, momentarily stricken with the thought that he sees an angel. 
“Thank you,” you breathe, and he recognizes your voice. Usually it cracks like a whip, but this is soft. Strange. It terrifies him. “I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. Just know that I liked our game, Hunter.”
“What are you doing, Witch?”
Your smile is like the sun. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. Your face is covered in blood and rain, turning your neck scarlet as it runs. There’s a gash above your brow and he sees a blackened wound in your stomach. 
It is amazing, how a creature like you, bred to be an evil, wicked thing can look radiant. Holy. Wonderful. Your hand is cradling his face and it feels warm, despite the rain and blood on your hands. Your thumb is soft as it sweeps across his cheek, a touch more reverent than he’s ever known. 
“Witch,” Yoongi starts, unsure what you’re doing. 
“I’ll miss that. Take this.” 
Before Yoongi can react, your hand falls from his face. You move past him with absolute confidence, lifting your chin. You have a limp as you do, and Yoongi reaches after you but you’re already out of his grip.
Something stirs in the air. He’s only felt power rippling like that once before when he was a child, and the entire Conclave worked together to slaughter an Eldritch Witch that had attacked them and taken out more than half of their hunters.
Now, Yoongi feels that dark presence again, energy buzzing against his ears as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. The prowler senses the power disturbance too, backing away from you as dark particles begin to gather around your hands.
Above you, the rain hovers, disrupted by the frequency of your magic. The buzz in Yoongi’s ears gets louder as he climbs to his feet, clapping his hands firmly over his ears, wincing as it gets higher and louder. He thinks it might burst his ear drums or crack his skull open. 
Disks of dark particles circle you as you approach the demon, which is now roaring once more, trying to disrupt your thoughts. It doesn’t work, the air vibrating with dark matter. You’re at the center of the swirling darkness, the rings rotating around you like an access.
The sound stops suddenly, and for a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s deaf. Black matter pulses from you, exploding outward. Yoongi hits the floor, realizing if he gets hit with your magic, he’ll die. Never before has he witnessed the Eldritch Blast of a witch, but he knows that it's only used as a final stand.
I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. 
The finality of your words shreds him open as the shockwave of your magic barrels at him. He thinks he’s going to die as it expands toward him, but instead, it arches over him, battling down against a magical barrier. 
Take this. Yoongi realizes you’ve warded him from your destruction, keeping him safe as your blast levels the world around you. He feels the magic beating down on your ward like raging fits, vibrating and shrieking under the pressure of the magic. 
It even keeps him from being injured by the collapsing debris. 
Yoongi looks at you as the world falls to pieces. You go down to one knee, then the other, swaying as the darkness cascades around you in a final flutter of power. Then you fall over, heavy and unmoving as the rest of the building comes down. 
All he can do is scream.
-
Most nights, you dream of Yoongi. You don’t know when it started - perhaps that first night after you met him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that at some point, the hunter poisoned you from the inside out, a disease taking root and rotting you all the way through to your core. 
You always knew that dreaming of him would get you killed one day. But Yoongi was different. Wiser than the rest of his wretched Conclave. Smart enough to question his way of life and his faction’s merciless killings. You think he’ll start asking the right questions soon, that maybe he’ll start seeing the signs that who he has sworn loyalty to isn’t who they say they are.
But Yoongi never asks questions. 
It’s easy to tell he wants to. There’s always that little pause at the end of your meetings. You used to think it was perhaps he was trying to decide whether or not to kill you. Perhaps it was that at first, but now it’s something a little different. A little more. Like he is on the edge of finally asking you what exactly is going on in the city that he protects from monsters.
Yoongi is simple, though. He likes his little life tucked away in the Art District and he likes the wash, rinse, repeat of killing demons and corrupted witches nightly. You think he likes your little run-ins.
Now, you’ve finally paid the price of letting him live these last two years. Had someone told you before you’d met Yoongi that you’d sacrifice yourself for him and the rest of a small neighborhood, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t a hero, though some might think slaying your own kind and their creatures was worth praise. 
Penance and praise are not the same, though. 
Dying seems like a good way of paying off your list of wrongs. Especially to save Yoongi. If only to save Yoongi, if you were being honest. 
Witches have a lot of lore about death and where one goes in the afterlife. You’re not sure where you are, if you exist, or if you’re even really a thought. It feels like nothingness and everything all at once, a void of floating consciousness. There’s no pain, but you remember the warehouse. Remember the prowler ripping down the door and coming for you specifically. 
And him. You remember Yoongi coming in, looking like a fucking angel of old as he leapt through the skies. Together you might have taken on the beast. But prowlers are notoriously difficult to destroy, and you were in no shape to protect Yoongi, much less fight by his side as a reliable partner. 
That left you with one option, and though you knew it would end you, you’d done it anyway.
Yoongi’s face swims in your mind. Soft and round, eyes like the bottom of the ocean, a single pink scar carved through his right eye. Mouth soft and petal pink, hair silky and dark, reaching to his shoulders. He’s small for a hunter but he’s strong and broad, his mind his best weapon. 
Witch, Yoongi had said. The last words you’d hear from him, spoken with a softness that you’ve never heard from him before. Rain-soaked and wide eyed Yoongi, looking at you like you held the flame of life, like you were something more than a creature on the other side of the trench. 
The best thing you could do for him was die.
So you summoned your magic from deep within you, that ancient, sleeping thing. You try not to think about what Yoongi’s last memory of you will be, an eldritch horror that will remind him of the creature that slaughtered his family as a child. 
Yoongi will never get to ask his questions. You’ll never get to tell him why you haunt the streets killing your own kind. Yoongi will never know the softness of your kiss. You’ll never know the gentle press of his hands. 
Something brushes across your forehead. You feel now and you frown. Or can you frown, in whatever plane of death this is? You’re not sure, but you feel… the weight of your own body. The beating of your own heart. The rush of air through your lungs as you breathe.
Awareness prickles at the back of your neck like a needle. Slowly, you begin to feel solid. Your fingers twist in soft sheets, and when you turn your head, you feel the plushness of a pillow. Smell petrichor and cedar. 
It smells like… Yoongi. 
“Hmmm?” you feel the vibration in your throat at your unspoken question, nothing but a rumble of noise and confusion. Something cradles your face. “Hunnn..?”
A deep, throaty laugh. “Mmm, I take care of you for a week straight and we’ve moved on to endearments?” 
Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy. The world swims into view, a little blurry as your eyes try to focus in the dimly lit room, taking in the bed you’re in and the face hovering above yours. 
“Yoongi,” you breathe, your heart expanding with unfettered joy. 
“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”
“What?”
“Say it more often.” He leans forward and you watch as his dark eyes drink you in. “And never do that to me again.”
Before you can ask him what that is, Yoongi’s mouth is pressing against yours. You melt immediately, going boneless in a bed you’re unfamiliar with, lost in the citrusy taste of his mouth and the gentle press of his lips. His kiss is soft soft soft, blurring reality as he pulls at your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.
Eyes fluttering open, you stare at him in wonder. He hovers above your face, haloed by inky-black hair. “Yoongi.”
He smiles. “It sounds much better than hunter. Hun can stay, though.”
“You’re not calling the shots.”
“You’re in no condition to fight me.”
“I killed a prowler, I think you’re no problem.”
His eyes glow. “I think perhaps you’re right. But for now, you’re at my mercy.”
“Kiss me again.” You lift your hands and bring them toward his face, brushing a finger over the bottom of his scar. “And don’t stop this time. I’ll ask my questions later.”
“Of course, witch.” 
Yoongi’s kiss is hungrier now. Desperate. Full of all the questions he never asked and you meet him with equal fire. You don’t care that you’ve beat the odds and lived. You don’t care about anything else but the weight of Yoongi straddling your waist and the feel of his velvet soft skin beneath your hands. 
Every inch of him is warm, filled with the heat of the hunter’s fire that burns through every member of the Conclave. This hunter burns brighter than the rest, though. Warmth blooms where your fingers press over his stomach and chest, ridding him of his shirt. Fire burns where you grab his arms, arching into him as his teeth skim your throat. 
You’ve never felt this in sync with someone, bodies twining together like you were made for one another. Yoongi’s hand is scorching as his touch ghosts down your body, his touch light and teasing as he lowers his mouth to your hardened nipple, catching it and giving a gentle suck.
Honey-dipped moans slip from your mouth. Yoongi’s mouth is wet-hot against your skin, tongue laving hungrily as his hand seeks the heat between your legs. Your thighs open for him easily, giving Yoongi access to the dripping mess of your folds. He curses when his fingers slide between your slit, gathering slick to circle his digits around your clit.
“Fuck,” you hiss, hips twitching. “Don’t bother. I can take you now. Want you now.”
“I told you that you were at my mercy.” You summon your magic, rattling his shelves. Yoongi leans over to your neglected nipple and plucks it with his teeth, making you squeal and shiver, pleasure rattling you. “Fine,” he agrees. “Greedy witch. Should have known.”
“Not greedy,” you shoot back as Yoongi sits up and sheds his pants. Your hands follow him, tracing the faint scars on his stomach, pressing against the muscle of his tapered hips. “I’ve waited for months for you to do something. To say something.”
“I’m not good at that.” 
You hum. “It takes me dying for you to take initiative?” 
“A lesson hard-learned and never to be repeated.”
Yoongi’s cock is hard, bobbing heavily as he shuffles you under him and presses your thighs open for him. The brown tip is sticky with precum, his shaft long and thick enough to make your cunt ache for him more.
“Nice cock,” you tease as he pumps himself, hand gliding and spreading his precum down his shaft.
He grunts. “Can’t wait to feel this fucking pussy,” he mutters, leaning forward and pressing the tip to your entrance. You make a breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure-pained stretch. “Think you can take it, witch?”
“Yes.”
Yoongi sinks in and you second-guess your statement for a second, but the stretch of his cock pressing you open feels good. Deliriously so, your back arching as he bottoms out. You feel him in your gut, deeper than anything ever before and you whine as he draws his hips back before snapping them forward, punching the breath from your lungs.
He sets a deep, hard pace. You grip his biceps, feeling the muscle flex in his arms. Every part of you is on fire, lit up from the closeness of your bodies as Yoongi leans down and melds your mouths together, continuing to fuck you so deep you know you’ll never forget what it feels like.
Every brush of his cock against your g-spot drives you mad. Every whisper of your name - your name, not witch - makes you shudder. His tongue is hungrily as it brushes against yours, his moans deep and throaty as your pussy grips him tight. 
“Fuck,” he pants, sliding a hand down your body to grab your thigh and hoist your leg higher. It changes the angle, making his stroke somehow deeper. Your eyes roll back and your head digs into the mattress as you fist at the sheets. “You can fucking take it.”
“Keep going.”
“As if i could fucking stop.” 
You never want him to stop. Fucking you, kisses you, teasing you, shadowing you as you take on the world. You want every part of your life colored with Yoongi. You want him to be a part of your mornings, your fights, your weaknesses, your strengths. You want to rile him up, needle him with little insults that get him going. Tease him to make him laugh and share that secret smile. 
Every moment has led to this. You don’t know how you never saw this outcome, here with him, crying out his name as your orgasm crests into an unstoppable force. When you come around him, it’s with his name in your mouth and so much need for him in your heart that you think you might explode with energy for a second time. 
After, when you’re wrapped in Yoongi and you feel his hunter’s skin blaze against you, sweat-slick skin pressed close, you think that finally, he’ll ask those questions. You’ll give him answers. 
“Don’t do that ever again, witch,” Yoongi warns. “I will follow you into death.” 
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Prompt: "You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror."
Pairing: Dire Crowley and GN!Prefect/ Yuu/ MC
Genre: Yandere (platonic)
TW: Yandere Dire Crowley, crow man's delusional and literally does not give two fucks, just generally creepy vibes all around.
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AN: I am so, so, so sorry for what you are about to read now lol. If you get too confused in the middle, don't worry, I was just as confused writing this but my brain just wouldn't rest until I finished and posted this so here we are. The basic summary of this is that Yuu or the Prefect is trapped in an endless cycle because Crowley overblotted. You might have to read this twice or thrice to understand the how and why <3
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He knows.
From the moment he sees them, he remembers.
He remembers and he watches as they do it again.
And again.
And again.
A puppet, unaware of their being handled by someone else, someone kinder and gentler who just wants to keep them safe and sound.
Even if it means trapping them in an endless cycle.
Even if he is the only one who sees and notices and remembers.
Dire Crowley cuts an imposing figure as he stands in his office, facing an ornate mirror. Not the Dark Mirror, no. This particular mirror has its roots in mystical arcane magic, from the times of Jupiter and when the Titans roamed free. Dire has a faint memory of his mother, the Crowley Matriarch, telling him to be careful with it, to pass it down to his heir as she had, to him.
Crystal clear, it beckons to him to reveal himself. To bare himself, imperfections and flaws laid out in the privacy of his office for it to see.
A selfish, sadistic desire to pick apart every carefully constructed lie, each bejeweled facade to show the utter mess of a man that lies beneath it all arises in him; he finds himself indulging in it more often than he likes to admit.
The masked man removes his mask for what is not the first time, and most certainly would not be the last. Sharp golden eyes look on as black ink, once held within the confines of his mask, drips down his face. Times like these make him wonder and marvel at how he has not met his demise yet.
Fingers adorned with golden claws rise and touch the blot, marveling at how cold it feels as it stains his skin. Lesser mages would have been dead long ago, Crowley knows this. Slight dread rises in him at the thought, knowing that his magic reserves are long finished; he lives on borrowed time and magic.
But then again, who cares? As long as he can have them here, where they belong, safe and sound-
A knock resonates through the room, startling the headmage. He quickly puts the mask on his face again and clears his throat, saying, "Come in."
He watches as they walk in, no doubt to complain about something, or to talk about their financial situation. Perhaps he should increase their allowance? After all, it is their being, their magic that sustains him, and allows him to live through these lifetimes watching over the unassuming, now magicless human he had imprinted on and the students they had endeared themself to.
Crowley watches as they speak, unable to stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He hems and haws and lies through his teeth about not being able to find them a way back.
He sees the light in their eyes dim; it is a small change, one that doesn't stay for long. But the magicless human is precious to him, and so he observes them. He watches them leave his office silently, a stark contrast to when their impatience and indignance have them cursing his name to the skies. No outcome, no outburst of their emotions will be able to move his cold, frozen heart to thaw, however; they belong to Twisted Wonderland, as Twisted Wonderland belongs to them.
In their first lifetime, Crowley recalls with the fondness of a father thinking of his grown-up child, they did possess magic; far different in nature, but magic nonetheless. And powerful too, considering the aura of it radiated from their being even as something stopped them from being able to use it.
Crowley wonders if it was so that he could see how invaluable, how indispensable they were.
How the entirety of Twisted Wonderland was made for them.
He did try, the first time, to find them a way back home. Endless efforts were dedicated to researching the existence of universes and multiverses. Of course, such exhaustive research would take time, time which he saw them spend getting close to the students of Night Raven College and fighting overblots.
Seven overblots, in the span of one year.
A record untouched by any other being, mage or otherwise. A record they kept making each and every lifetime they spent in the loop. A record that became his new normal, so much so that he no longer gives more than a cursory glance to the overblots and their aftermath.
He knows how it all ends, after all.
In their first lifetime, his efforts had bore fruit. His studies revealed a way to connect the Dark Mirror to their plane of existence, through the use of the very mirror that was hidden behind his back. His blood had run cold at the revelation, and he spent the next few weeks? months? looking for alternatives. For other ways to be able to send them back.
Until one day, the Prefect found out.
As they angrily interrogated him for the reasons behind his silence, asking him why he would not send them back even though there was a way, he realized exactly why he was hesitant about sending them back.
Crowley had no spouse, no children. But the mirror, the mirror which had been in his family for generations, needed an heir. One who could gain control over it, rather than have it control them like it did with so many of his ancestors, including his mother.
Surely the one dubbed a beast-tamer could tame such a dangerously powerful magical artefact?
He desperately begged and bargained with them, trying to change their mind. Trying to entice them into staying forever in Twisted Wonderland, as his heir. He offered them gold and silver, riches beyond what one would expect a man like him to have. He offered them the immense honour and prestige that came with being a deity that the entirety of Twisted Wonderland bowed to.
But they... they refused to stay. The only thing that was in their mind was to go home. Why couldn't they get it through their head that Twisted Wonderland was meant to be their home?
The aftermath of that argument... Crowley's memories are hazy at best. He remembers waking up in a pool of blot, the sticky ink covering his hands and the top of his face, dripping constantly. He remembers the mirror glowing as he dragged himself to it like a mindless moth flies to the flame even with the risk of getting burned.
Words had slipped through his mouth like the prayers of the devout at the altar of their deity, the faint and familiar hum of magic accompanied by a slight crackle of dark miasma.
"Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor... My proud, beautiful flower of evil. You are truly the fairest one of all," he had spoken, not knowing exactly what spell he was casting. All he knew, was that he was succumbing to the mirror, the same way his mother had; the same way all of his ancestors had, giving into the madness that such unchecked power and magic could create.
"O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat... Reveal unto me the visage I seek.." A vision of them, standing on the other side of the mirror, had Crowley try to reach out to them. His hand grazed the solid glass, before passing through it. He watched as their eyes widened and they took a step back.
"You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth... If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror." A shiver of thrill ran up his spine as they gingerly placed their hand in his after giving his words some thought, even with all the doubt in their eyes. He curled his fingers around their warm hand, and pulled.
He later found out that, during his overblot, he had managed to trap a significant portion of their soul in the mirror that was his family heirloom. The mirror rejected their magic, foreign as it was, and somehow those powers transferred themselves over to Crowley.
The words Crowley spoke, was the way to invoke their soul and bring them back each time they left Twisted Wonderland. A reset button, if you will.
Every time they show the slightest hint of wanting to leave, the slightest glimpse of understanding that he is the one they need to defeat in order to go home, he resets. Memories get wiped and Twisted Wonderland moulds beneath his gold-plated fingertips to what it was before. They say time waits for no man, but then again, Dire Crowley is more monster than human now. And so it bends to his will, but not without taking away his memories as well.
But then he sees them.
And he remembers.
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guardian5tiger3 · 3 months
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Pick a Group Tarot !
What's up ?
1. 2. 3.
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Group 1 .
I'm actually picking up on past energy, like maybe 2000's , early 2010's .? It depends for everyone, the point is it's a message about the past, your past self. Something about your future has something to do with your past. Ok, of course. I mean, it's being suggested that you should go back in time, enjoy stuff you used to like that might make you nostalgic. Music, shows, movies, anything really. Especially around middle school age . Once again, it depends , but for a lot of you that's about the age I'm talking about, I believe. For some of you this is way off lol. The point is to relive some stuff from your past, bring back some memories. It'll open up your heart somehow. You'll feel a lot about it if you do, and find the right stuff. It may motivate you and give you a lot of energy moving forward. Hell. Yah. You guys. What more needs to be said. This is a sweet reading , if you ask me. A lot of you come up with so many questions and thoughts, yo why not just take the advice and try it out and if it works it works. Okay some of you are kind of struggling right now. For whatever reason, though, this is what I'm supposed to tell you. In general what spirit wants for you is to open your heart up and feel in your heart. Also weirdly specific but, something about a croissant.
Group 2.
Y'all need to be strong within yourselves at this time , maybe even more than usual. I'm getting this could very well be socially especially or for some in a work environment. Why am I picking up on a movie theatre. Mainly the popcorn. You guys seem like you're just kinda waiting for something to happen, and you're hoping this something happens, and it's good I'm seeing that you guys are dreaming big and stuff ya know.
Ohhhhhh. Y'all know what. Some of you need to maybe rethink a situation you rejected cause you're wanting someone specific and waiting for that. You literally might have just walked right past exactly what you want deep down lol. You guys!!!!! W.t.f. lol. Take your time to think about stuff and reflect. You may not even know what or who I'm talking about . Y'all gonna have to sit back for a while and contemplate maybe. Maybe you have too many standards or ideas but the universe knows what you want and need even more than you do. Dude I see this being a raw blessing. Y'all lmaoo!!! Serious. It may not seem appealing cause of whatever you've been taught to think or just your perception at first, but I'm telling you!!! Just, think about it, ok. You guys seem great by the way, good vibes. Just a little judgemental maybe. But I mainly feel lighthearted. I think that's lowkey your true natures, so, yeah. Peace and love ya goobers. Dang.
Group 3 .
You guys, sometimes you don't actually have to literally win the game to win the game. Sometimes playing the game and enjoying the game is where you really win, at the end of the day. Y'all get what I'm saying? Don't be too serious, don't be too hard on yourself or anyone else. You might need to have some heart healing taking place. Someone must have been harsh to you at some point in your life. You just need to reflect on that if that's the case, maybe and be nice to yourself and rebel against that. I'm also picking up the general concept of becoming your own best friend , being an appreciable character personality. Mainly a lot of what I'm getting is just reteaching yourself to be nice to yourself and enforcing respect on ya name. If you might be a little scared of personal development in some specific way though you know deep down it's good for you, know I can sense people will actually like and enjoy you even more afterwards.!
:)
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wings-of-ink · 5 days
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Update!
Hey everyone, just wanted to check in with you. I hope you all doing well!
Right now, I am feeling good about getting chapter 3 out by 4/30. It's a crunch for sure, but barring any disasters in the work itself or my personal life, I feel like it is doable. My aim is to get it to a point where it is release-worthy but will still need fine tuning after the fact. I generally like to edit things a couple times at least and have it play-tested, but I won't have time for all that. But, this is a work in progress, and I can always make improvements as I go. There are also a couple segments that I did not have time to add, but they're not pivotal to the story. I will add them if I find the time before the 30th (sorry to those who wanted to make a tasty cake for someone).
So far, I have gone through chapters 1 and 2 again and made some corrections to typos and grammar. I added a white hair option with some flavor text, and some other flavor text for purple eyes. The option to have your MC's hair turn grey (streaked or fully grey) from stress/illness was added, but I did not do it in the way I needed to, so if I have time, I'm going to fix that before release. I also updated some of the variable values of certain choices. A name bank was added for anyone who might struggle to come up with a name for their MC. I made all but one of them correspond to the marks. There's a wild card in there for the adventurous, lol. The codex was also updated.
Today, I am editing chapter 3. My very gracious boss encouraged me to take the day off, and I'm feeling pretty good, so I'm using this as an opportunity to get some serious work done.
If you're curious and don't mind my rambling about my life, you can read about my ordeal below!
I am feeling much better. I had a couple rough days in the past week, but mostly brought on by medication my dentist wanted me to take to stave off possible infection in a broken tooth. I had a less-than-stellar reaction to it, and it gave me insomnia and anxiety. Simply fantastic.
But, I had the root canal yesterday (got lucky and they had a cancelation so I was able to go in 5 days early). I am happy to report it was not bad at all. In fact, it may have been the easiest dental procedure aside from cleanings that I've ever had, lol. I was in and out within half an hour, and the endodontist numbed the fuck out of my mouth. The biggest pain was the drive there and back since I live so far away.
I chilled the whole day and took a glorious 2 hour nap, and have been sore but totally good. I even watched one of my favorite comfort-animes, Natsume Yuujinchou. If you are ever feeling poorly and down in the dumps or just need to relax, it is cute, a bit funny, and lighthearted - so I highly recommend it. So, all in all, I feel recharged and more than ready to see chapter 3 with fresh eyes!
Thank you to everyone who sent me encouraging messaging about the root canal. It really truly helped me show up for that appointment without feeling completely vulnerable. I was still anxious, because that is just what my brain do - I can't even see my GP without my hands shaking, lol. But, going into it knowing what your experiences have been helped so much.
Anyway, sorry for prattling! I'm going to get back to it now! ^_^
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vyl3tpwny · 10 months
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why it ourple
ok.
i'm going to tell you the story of how purple became my favourite colour. and then, where the name vylet pony came from.
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ch.1 the mace windu incident
once upon a time. I really liked star wars. i kind of still like star wars i guess. but when i was a kid, i REALLY liked star wars.
in my room, i had a mace windu poster.
i still can't find the exact poster. it looked something like this
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mace windu was my fav star wars character for an inconceivably long time. with that, i also became fascinated with his purple lightsaber. nobody else had a purple lightsaber. i loved it. staring at that poster constantly made me really like the colour purple. ever since the poster started exerting its technicolour pressures and whimsies upon me, i became fixated on the colour purple. forever.
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"hai!~ im mace windu and i loveee Videos!" - mace windu, star wars episode iii: revenge of the sith
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ch. 2 the viny scratch era
fast forward like 7 years. i am in the my little pony fandom now. i am 13 years old. i really like vinyl scratch. she is pictured here:
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my first online presence in the mlp community was as a vinyl scratch / dj pon3 roleplay account. for a good year, people called me vinyl and "vy".
however when it came time to start releasing music in the fandom, i couldn't go by vinyl scratch at the time. this name was already being used by the artist who currently goes by Scraton!
this is still one of my favourite songs by them:
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anyway. i actually held a really insane, irrational grudge against scraton for being named "vinyl scratch" as a music artist before me. i got past that after a while, because i had to stop being 13 first. i stopped being 13 and eventually fell in love with their music and we became friends later after!
but it's 2013 and i can't be vinyl scratch anymore. people already called me "vy" because of being a vinyl scratch persona.
so.
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ch. 3 it's vylet time-wait is that can opener? CANNI?
it started on december 28, 2012. i posted to my then-instagram account this image:
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you may recognize this as my oc canni. here's their reworked look in the 2022 album (10 years later) can opener's notebook: fish whisperer (illustrated by @astroeden):
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can opener's original name was "ultra vylet". their colour scheme was originally intended to be the inverse of vinyl scratch's, as a sort of strange protest to not being able to be vinyl scratch. i was like ok. well if i cant be vinyl scratch, i am going to make a character that swaps the main colours. within a few months of "ultra vylet" existing, i discarded the design in favour of a completely different one:
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this would be the only time vylet consistently had purple in her design until 2018 or so.. lol.
then. on april 15, 2013, i posted this to my instagram:
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i had essentially combined three things:
The fact the people called me "vy'
The fact that my favourite colour is purple (violet)
The fact that I wanted to be vinyl scratch (dj pon3) before
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ch. 4 vylet pony ≠ vinyl scratch
that is to say, i never really put a lot of thought into "vylet pony" as a name. i just made it when i was 14 and now i am going to be 25 soon. will i keep vylet pony as a name forever? not sure. do i take great pride in its insanely snarky origin? absolutely.
after i had decided firmly on "vylet pony" as a name — after dropping the "3" from it — i made a new instagram account. the very first thing i posted to it was this:
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illustrated by my friend, shade.
now that looks slightly vylet-like, design-wise, oc-wise. oh. but now she is grey and black? ok.
she stopped being purple from 2013-2018.
here is how her design progressed through the years:
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the first one is by my then-partner sara. this is when vylet's cutiemark was still an upside down music note, reflected from "ultra vylet" / can opener's original design. i'll show how it became a puzzle piece next.
the second one is by shade
the third one is by chibadeer
the fourth one is by astroeden
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ch. 5 the puzzle piece
to this day, i still cannot find the fanart in question. but over instagram, someone asked to draw fanart of my pony. in doing so, they misconstrued the shape of the upside down music note as a puzzle piece, like this:
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i've been looking forever for the original fanart/fanartist that made this mistake. because ever since that art, i just stuck with it anyway. i like puzzles and puzzle games. i'm also a puzzling and enigmatic person. and the puzzle piece can go into so many different things. all sorts of problem solving is like a puzzle. music fits neatly into that category in my opinion. so because of its intrigue and ability to mean so many different things, i just went with it. i never looked back.
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ch. 6 that is the history of the colour purple and vylet pony character design
i hope this answers the question "why it ourple"!
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frodo-with-glasses · 6 months
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More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company
Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT
It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.
“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣
“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—
Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT
“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??
Also teehee crack
Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on
The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL
“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED
I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.
F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you
Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me
I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY
“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.
Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!
If only he knew just how far he was really going
“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody
And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS
“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL
Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into
“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—
Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"
Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL
I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5
I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.
Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.
Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold
Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL
Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"
And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5
Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5
And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.
Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."
I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.
Sam's canonically good hearing returns!
Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol
Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.
Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"
I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D
Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.
Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"
GILDOR!!
GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE
I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY
"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho
The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"
FINROD MY MAN
I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.
The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"
Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD
I love him
And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly
....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.
Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!
Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.
The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"
Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute
Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE
“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—
"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS
Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO
SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5
Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".
Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all
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fizzigigsimmer · 2 months
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This has been nibbling at me for days, but "Billy's Fantasy Girl" is such a weird awkward as fuck inclusion in the VR game. Allowing for the fact that I am not male, and I do not know for certain how the average hetero dude is conceptualizing their existence and processing their deepest desires and insecurities, but it just feels incredibly clunky and odd that Vecna is filtering Billy's weaknesses through a female of no face and name.
Do men project their weaknesses onto their partners and search for meaning within their relationships just as much as women do? Abso-fucking-lutely. My issue is not with Billy's Fantasy Girl's existence within his psyche, but with how she exists and why she exists. FG exists to reveal to the audience something about Billy. Several things, in truth. One of them, quite deftly, that Billy has all the insecurities of a budding abuser himself. His fantasy woman is someone so broken and desperate that she will put him first in everything, because he's the only one or thing that can make her feel like she has any kind of value or presence in the world (because that's how he feels). And before anyone climbs down my throat about it, lets just all agree that this is the bed soil of many a toxic relationship.
Because Billy is never going to find that, the resentment/pain/frustration will continue to build and it is likely he will seek to control his partners in the future and try to force them into the shape he needs - keep them locked in the trunk and by his side. We see the seeds of this developing in the canon with him and Max. He cares about her whether he's accepted that or not, and when she steps outside the box or does things that put her or him in harms way he lashes out.
The second thing FG exists to do of course is flip the script and show us just how broken Billy is. How worthless and desperate he feels, because he is a victim right now. More important than any potential abuse he could visit on some imaginary girlfriend or wife of the future is the abuse Billy has suffered and is suffering right now, which has made him the perfect target for The Mind Flayer - an abuser, who has literally come along to tell Billy that he's seen, understood, and he can have everything he wants if he just literally gives up control of his self and devotes himself to the monster and his monstrous desires.
All of that tracks, and is frankly the kind of deep exploration of trauma cycles that the Duffer Brothers failed to do. My issue with it is that there were much cleaner ways to make the same points, without filtering Billy through a female lens. Choosing to focus on a female and filter Billy through that female is what we call A Choice. They did not need to do it, and in just about every way there were easier ways to get the same points across without risking loosing less media literate players in the muddy waters of nuance, metaphor, and symbolism.
We could have seen Billy filtered through the eyes of the wounded child again. Vecna could have promised him a picture perfect family, like maybe his mom never left, or maybe he gets to punish her for leaving and Neil for being a piece of shit. IDK there are just dozens and dozens of ways they could have shown us he is love starved and just as desperate to give up control as he is to control his world, without literally forcing the audience to imagine a female and then saying - this is Billy btw. LOL like, y'all don't understand. Choices were made.
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