#Dreamer-Held-Captive

[azen13]

hello! could i possibly purchase the fool’s mask from the starlight pawnshop?

Love is a Fool's Game

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Fool's Mask: A red and white mask with an eerie smile. When the clock strikes twelve, its wearer shall don it and dance with his love for their affection.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Description: After escaping your lover, Sampo Koski, on Epsilon, you moved to Penacony for protection. However, one night, you fall asleep in paradise, only to awaken to a nightmare.

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Intimacy

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You hate this planet. 

You hate the dazzling lights, the unending din, and the drunk dreamers. Top to bottom, bottom to top, inside out, outside in, every which way you look at this manufactured paradise, you can only see Epsilon. However, unlike Epsilon, there are no dangers lurking beyond every corner, no chains holding you captive in their choking embrace. You aren’t completely free, but you are free enough, and that is adequate for you.

Penacony is safe, you tell yourself, from the moment you awaken to the moment you fall asleep, completely submerged in sweet dreams.

How wrong you are.

As you fall back into a dream inside of a dream, you feel as though you are falling into a black hole. Pools of light slowly begin to drain away, buildings bend until they are completely circular, and tiny pinpricks of light in the sky redden. You hear a voice chuckling, then another, then a third, more and more joining in to form a singularity of unceasing laughter, of infinite voices distilled down into one. Even through all the distortion, you know who is laughing.

He was always laughing, always smiling, always saying he would always be there. Constant and unchanging, yet as unpredictable as the wind and weather. Pulling you closer and closer until every facet of your personality crumbled under his touch. You had escaped him once before he could rebuild you, but you knew he was back.

After eons of falling, you finally feel solid ground beneath your body. Standing on shaky legs, you hear a scuffle behind you, but when you turn around, your eyes pin empty air like an archer missing their target.

“Aw, impatient to see me again, are we?” His annoying voice rings out from every direction, bouncing off walls like ricocheting bullets. “C’mon, darling, you know I’d never leave! That’s a guarantee from Sampo Koski. And Sampo Koski doesn’t go back on his word.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at the claim. It was blatantly false, a weak attempt at permeating your strong-willed mind. You had seen plenty of Sampo’s deals and promises fall through, and figured it was only a matter of time before it happened to you, too. Still, you knew his words held power. Given enough time, they would flow through your veins and fill your heart with falsehoods. You couldn’t help but remember your imprisonment on Epsilon, how he had managed to infiltrate your mind with such lies. How he was a good man who could give you everything. How he needed you, lest his heart fail him. How he could be a lover.

He lied, of course. The epiphany wasn’t sudden, but a slow realization, like a river causing a mountain to collapse. It was a slow erosion of your soul, leaving you hollow and listless.

For some time, you believed you could love him. You believed him when he said he loved you. But his words were heresy, and his love was a game. At least, you thought it was. That was what this all had to be, right? Some type of cruel joke for a few laughs, for the sake of elation.

So, you got up and dusted yourself off. “Go away, Sampo,” you muttered, walking around the dark room, feeling around for some kind of exit.

Sampo sighed petulantly; while you couldn’t see him, his presence seemed to press into you from every direction, crushing you in his love. “But I’ve missed you, babe! You wouldn’t…” the man’s voice paused, a stilted sniffle resounding in the room, “r-reject me so quickly, would you?” 

You decide he isn’t worth the effort to respond, and instead devote your energy into the search for a way out. To your surprise, it only takes a few moments for you to grasp a doorknob. Without thinking, you foolishly twist the handle.

Laughter shrieks out from empty space, swirling in your ears like tinnitus as you fall forwards. When you land this time, you stand in a harshly-lit hallway, with four fluorescent light bulbs hanging on strings periodically down the length of the room. Standing right in front of you is Sampo.

He swaggers forwards, already sure he will win this little game. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, love,” he coos, lunging forward and grasping one of your hips with a hand. After a moment, he steals your wrist in a bone crushing embrace, drawing it to his face to press a sweet, gentle kiss to it. “If you want, I can say it too,” he teases, pulling you closer, uncomfortably so. “I missed you so much, darling.” The playful spirit in his voice dies out suddenly, and it makes every bone in your body rattle in response. You have never heard him sound so serious.

“Sampo, let go,” you snarl, pulling your wrist back and attempting to use your other hand to push the man away. But Sampo holds tight. His eyes darken, turning a distilled color of green that shine thoroughly with greed. He can’t let you go. Not after you’ve wasted so much time without him by your side, like he should be.

A quiet chuckle escapes Sampo’s lips. “You drive a hard bargain, babe,” he mutters, his hold loosening. With a sigh, levity reappears on his face, a forced smile coming to his lips. “I guess I’ll just have to be…extra persuasive.” Without warning, the thief’s form dissipates into formless wisps of smoke.

After a few moments pass, you stalk to the door, a simple white wooden one with peeling paint. This time, you hardly even get the privilege of opening the door yourself; the very moment you twist the doorknob, you already hear ear-piercing laughter ringing out from nowhere.

When you land this time, you find yourself surrounded by hundreds of thousands of clones of yourself, all lying down in the same way. As you get up, the copies of you all get up, their motions synchronized. Kaleidoscopic, in a way.

You see a flash of red and white appear in dim light in the corner of your eye. Whirling around, you find nothing. Laughter floats in the air like a dead fish washing up on the shore of a sea. You take it for what it is: a bad omen. “Y’know what? I’m feeling like a generous guy today, so I’ll give you the offer of a lifetime, honey. Come back home, and I’ll be the best lover in the universe. I’ll get a trophy to prove it if you want me to. All you gotta do? Is come back to Epsilon.”

Ignoring the voice, you work your way through the maze. As you do so, his voice gets quieter and quieter, until it disappears, never to be heard again. 

The door this time is fancier, with engraved patterns and a brass handle. When you step through, you expect to find yourself back in Penacony.

What greets you instead is your old penthouse in Epsilon. To one side, Sampo leers over you with a dangerously relaxed smile on his face. “Oh, did you really think I was just gonna let you leave?” A chortle escapes the conman’s lips as he steps closer, hands looping around your waist like a chain, binding you to him. “You’ll always be mine, darling. I always win.”

[impala-dreamer]

Before The First Light

A Supernatural Story

~ With Michael pounding away in his head, ready to break free at any moment, Dean realizes he has no other choice but to do what Billie says and lock himself away forever. He hadn't planned on telling her, hadn't planned on a goodbye, but Y/N wouldn't let him leave without one more night...~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

3,126 Words

Warnings: Angsty Angst. Kissy Kiss. Saddy Sad. 

A/N: This was a commission and I def made myself cry a bit. Please give it a reblog if you read it <3 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard properly.

Something about a box and being buried in the deepest part of the ocean. Something about Dean locking himself away for all eternity to ensure that Michael stayed captive. Something about choosing everlasting torment instead of fighting, instead of looking for an answer. Something about leaving them all alone, leaving her alone.

When Mary called, Y/N hadn’t been far. She had been ‘borrowing’ a text from the library at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, something old and illustrated in gold foil. A book that Castiel thought would help. As soon as she heard the worry in Mary’s voice, she pointed her little Toyota towards Hibbings and pushed the gas pedal to the floorboard.

She stood now, silently staring into the barn; her small frame illuminated by the glow of sunset behind her. Sam and Dean were arguing, standing on either side of a large metal coffin. It was crudely made and inlaid with hand-formed sigils. The bitter scent of fading gas and burning metal hung in the air. The struggle in both of their tones struck her first; their words only becoming clear after the shock settled.

He had found a way to lock Michael away forever.

Moreover, he’d found a way to kill himself without actually doing it.

Y/N held her breath and clutched the doorframe. She knew if she moved, she’d fall; if she spoke, she’d break down.

“I won’t be talked out of this! I won’t…”

Dean’s voice hit her like a truck. Her chest ached and her stomach churned. She exhaled and bit back a cry.

Amazingly, Sam was silent. She could only see his back, but his tiny movements made it clear that he was unhappy but stuck between a mountain and a hard place.

“I’m doing this. Now, you could either let me do it alone,” Dean said, dropping the frustration and pleading with his brother. “Or… you could help me.”

She wanted to scream. At Dean or Sam, she couldn’t work out, but something needed to be said. Something needed to be done to stop him, change his mind, and slap some sense back into him.

“...But I’m doin’ this.”

Still, Sam was silent.

Y/N watched from the gap in the wooden door, awed by the way Sam seemed to give in. He shook his head slightly, looked away, and then back. He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling as the decision formed in his mind.

“Alright.” His whisper was pained and Dean closed his eyes, letting go of a heavy sigh.

Y/N snapped.

She yanked open the door and glared at the Winchester idiots. She was shaking; blood rushing in her ears like a jet engine. With a quivering lip, she let out a roar twice the size of her petite frame.

“Alright?!”

Sam was startled, all but jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck do you mean, alright?”

Dean seemed to curl in on himself. He hadn’t expected to see her, hadn’t even wanted to tell her what he had planned. He looked at her, sadness spread across his handsome face. “Y/N-”

She trembled in the doorway, her hair wild and glowing with the golden dregs of dusk. Her faith darkened like the sky.

“What is wrong with you!”

Sam turned to face her with wet eyes and a hopeless expression. “Y/N, it’s not-”

She took a step inside, body propelled forward as if it meant to strike them both down. “Don’t you dare say it’s not what I think. I know exactly what the fuck this is, Sam!”

She looked at Dean. His eyes were dry but tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how hard the last year had been for him. The possession, the release, the back and forth, and now- Michael pounding away in his skull like a thousand battering rams. Her heart broke for him and yet, she couldn’t hold back. “How could you?”

Her voice came out like a sick whisper, full of spears, aiming at the very core of him.

He flinched. He shook his head gently, unsure of how to tell her all the things he needed to. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t ready - or willing - to say goodbye to her.

“How?” she asked again, tears breaking free and spilling down her face. They glistened in the final rays of sunset while she waited for an answer.

Dean looked down at the box. He ran his fingertips over the top and closed his eyes. The first task was done and he was resolved to see it through to the next. He just had to keep himself from cracking, from splitting open as he looked at his brother and his love. He had to steel his heart, and stay the course.

His hand curled into a fist.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t manage more than a meager, breathy reply.

She laughed. It wasn’t funny, but she laughed. “You’re sorry?” Her hand fell from the splintered wood. “You’re sorry. You’re gonna do this and you’re sorry. We have watch you try to kill yourself - again - and you’re sorry.”

Again, his lips parted but nothing came out. There was no defense he could give, no reasoning that would make her OK with any of it.

Y/N grit her teeth, dug her heels into the creaky wood floor. She waited, silently begging him to say something- anything.

He looked up at her through thick lashes, his chin dipped low and his hands stuck on the lid of the coffin.

Anger and fear stormed in her chest and she shook her head, giving up.

She met Dean’s eye and frowned. “Fuck you.”

He didn’t even react. He knew he deserved it.

She turned to leave and Sam spoke up, his voice crackling with his own frustration and pain.

“Y/N, wait-”

Her head snapped back and she glared over her shoulder at him. “Oh. And fuck you too, Sam. Goddamn coward.”

The driveway was made of loose gravel and the month had been dry. Dust billowed under her sneakers as she ran from the barn, from reality, from him. She wasn’t really leaving- she’d never be able to fully walk away from him- but she knew if she stayed in that barn, she’d end up burning it down.

She heard him following. The rocks crunched under his boots and his breath was heavy. Crying while running wasn’t good for him.

She stopped a few feet from his car.

That goddamned Impala and the man driving it had changed her entire life, and she wasn’t about to change it again. Not this way. Not by losing him to a fucking box.

Dean caught up but she moved again before he could reach for her. His hand fell in the space she created between them.

“Can we talk about this?” he asked, voice gritty and low.

Y/N dropped her head and kicked at the gravel. “I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

He took a step closer. “I want to.”

Spinning to look at him, she crossed her arms over her chest, symbolically keeping him away.

He was silent for a moment, unable to begin or even decide where to.

Y/N clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Well?”

Dean dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t start that crap with me.”

“What crap?”

She sighed. “That puppy-dog, teary-eyed, apology crap. I don’t want it. It’s bullshit.”

He tensed. “It’s not bullshit.”

“If you’re sorry then why go through with it?”

Dean looked away and caught his breath. “You overheard us in there. You know why.”

“No.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear that you think the only way to save everyone- like always- is to sacrifice yourself.”

Frustration curled up his spine and Dean grit his teeth. “You can’t- it’s not that fucking simple, and you know it.”

“Oh?” She stood back and clenched invisible pearls at her throat. The fight was brewing, hot and fast. “Please, Dean, tell me what I know.”

His lips hung open slightly as he thought better of speaking and making things worse.

“Allow me,” she snapped. “I know that you’re always right and I’m just some nerdy, useless book worm that you keep around to keep Sam occupied when you don’t wanna do any work.” Her voice grew loud, her words clipped and harsh. Her hands flailed in the air between them. “I know that you’re this old, experienced man and I’m some idiot little girl who doesn’t know shit about shit. I know I’m just a fucking bootycall that happens to occupy a room near yours.”

He flinched with every word. Slow, unrelenting tears streaked down his stubbled cheek. She didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to watch the salt water leak down and disappear into the dust and rock beneath their feet. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him; didn’t want to let go of her anger.

She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t see past the redness in his eyes, the way his lips turned downward.

Her heart broke again and again with each breath and every tear that fell.

“I know that… you’re going to fucking kill yourself because you think you’re weak.” Her volume fell, her voice cracked. “You think you’re going to fail and the world will end.”

Dean closed his eyes tight.

“You think that everything that goes bad in this world is your fault.”

He pulled in a shaky breath.

“You feed on guilt, Dean. You drown in it.”

Green eyes opened, found hers in the dim light.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

His confession was barely a whisper, floating towards her like a lost feather. He was sad but resolute, unyielding in his plans.

She took a step closer, bent her ear his way. “What?”

“Guilt,” he echoed. “I do have to live with it. Because it’s mine. I did this, and I’m the only one who can stop Michael from breaking free.”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? Why like this? Because some fucking reaper who has been Death for all of five minutes says you have to? Why would you trust her?”

Dean laughed bitterly and swatted at the wetness on his cheek. “Why would she lie?”

“Why wouldn’t she lie?”

He turned away but Y/N grabbed the open flap of his flannel.

“Hey! Don’t fucking do that. Don’t walk away. Not this time.”

Dean exhaled hard and came back to face her. He closed a hand around hers, keeping her fingers locked around his shirt, not letting her go.

“I have to do this. I have to. And if you can’t understand that, then-” He shrugged. “Then I don’t know what else to say.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded as she looked down at the ground. Night had fallen while they quarreled and the only light around them was the yellow glow coming from the house. Sam had shut the light in the barn when he left, giving them time alone to do what needed to be done.

When she looked back up, she was crying. Heavy, hot tears lined her eyes, and Dean sucked in a quick breath at the sight.

“I can’t let you do this,” she whispered.

“You’re not letting me do it,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I… I don’t care if you like it, or you agree with it. It has to happen. It will happen.”

Her lip trembled. She shook her head. “No…”

“Yes.” He went on, speaking slowly without a hint of indecision in his tone. “It will. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I should have been better to you. To Sam. I… I should have been better at everything. I should have been stronger. But this is what it is.”

Y/N grasped for any new idea, anything she could say to keep him with her. “What if we find something, what if Rowena… or Cas-”

“They’ve looked.”

She thrashed against him, trying to rip her hand away. “What if we find something and we can’t get you out! You’ll be trapped and we can’t get you out!” She pelted his chest with her fist, desperate to make him listen. “What if Chuck comes back and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What if he comes back and can fix it again like with Amara! He could do that!”

He grabbed her other hand, halting her attack.

“Stop it,” he breathed, trying not to hurt her. “Y/N, listen to me.”

“You’re the one not listening! Dean!”

She tugged her arms back, but he held her tight, dragged her closer.

“Why would you do this?” she sobbed, twisting in his grasp. Her wrists burned but she struggled all the same. “Why! You can’t! You can’t leave us!”

Lost and exhausted, Dean dropped her hands and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. He locked his arms around her back, crushed her into his warmth, refusing to budge or let her loose.

“Shh…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Shh… please…”

He rocked slowly side to side, soothing her as she splintered like a tree struck by lightning.

“Dean-”

“I know.” He kissed her again and loosened his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back and stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The whole world was shattering around her and all she could see was him.

Tiny hands moved up his chest, clawing at the buttons, bunching up the black tee beneath.

“Dean…”

He felt the touch like the strike of a match and bent to kiss her lips.

She breathed into him and then pulled the air right back. She wanted the oxygen they needed to be the same; wanted a moment of connection before he was gone forever.

Dean needed it too. He came alive as his hands roamed her body. He dug his fingertips into soft flesh, pawed at her breasts, licked deep into her mouth.

Y/N backed up as he advanced and leaned on the cold metal of the Impala. Dean caught up quickly and tore at the thin shirt that covered her. She tugged it away; tossed it into the dirt.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered as he lifted her up, her lips shoved against his ear. “You can’t…”

Dean moaned as she spread her legs and let him slide between. She kissed every inch of his face, every freckle that she could see. He melted into her; fire and ice, anguish and lust fighting inside of him.

She licked at his lips; he snuck his hand into her jeans.

She nibbled at his ear; he moaned and rocked against her.

She clung to him like letting go would kill her.

He memorized her body so he could carry the touch with him until the end of time.

“We should go inside,” he croaked, breaking away enough to look down into her beautiful eyes. Strands of hair fell into her eyes and he swept it away. “It’s getting cold.”

Y/N dropped her hand down his body, her eyes following suit. “Don’t want to,” she confessed, her voice deeper and tinged with goodbye. “Not yet.”

Dean sighed, his soul heavy, his mind a mess. He cupped her face, holding her between his big, warm hands. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He’d asked it a thousand times before in jest, but this time it felt different. This time it hurt.

Hooking two fingers behind his belt, she tugged him forward an inch. There was hardly any space between them, but she needed what was there to shrink away.

“You can give me tonight,” she said sadly. “You can give me one last night before you go.”

He kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek.

“OK.”

The backdoor creaked open like it always did; the springs in the back squeaked when he lay down.

Y/N stood in the open air, stripping slowly while he watched from inside. Head propped up against the window and long legs stretched out over the bench seat, he stared at her silhouette. Haloed by the soft glow from the house, she looked like an angel- soft and beautiful and so perfectly made for him that his heart ached.

He reached for her and she slipped inside, climbing onto the worn leather and closing the door behind her. She sat on his thighs with her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and her hands on his stomach.

“You can still change your mind, ya know.”

Dean lay his hands on her legs and caressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs with his thumbs. He was unblinking, unyielding; certain.

“I won’t.”

Y/N nodded gently before falling down to kiss him again. If this was it, then she wanted to remember every second. No more talking, no more tears. Nothing but hungry lips and searching hearts, Dean and the rising moon.

It was cold in the car but they kept warm. They slept in each other’s arms, just a simple roll over from falling off the seat. Dean held her close and Y/N counted each beat of his heart. She realized sadly that one day her own heart would stop and his would still be going, kept alive for eternity by the Archangel trapped inside. She would be dead and Dean would live on and on forever, locked in torment until the universe collapsed and reality disintegrated, and maybe not even then would he be allowed to rest. Michael could keep him as long as he wanted, perpetually frozen in time even as time wore on.

She’d be dust and he’d be flesh and blood.

She’d be a memory and he’d be in his self-made hell.

He was sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to move, but she had to go. There was a pain in her chest that expanded with each breath, a hole inside that grew with every second that she stared at him.

Carefully, she slid from his arms and out into the morning air. She gathered her clothes and grabbed the keys to her little Toyota.

She glanced back at the house, at the barn housing Dean’s final resting place. Sam would help him, she was sure. Mary would talk some sense into him. But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t watch him go, couldn’t bear to see tail lights fade into the horizon.

The sky was changing: black to indigo and on to pink.

Y/N backed down the gravel driveway and was gone before the first light.

[alyrasturnz]

hii! I love your writing💕💕. I was wondering If you could write matt and bookworm!reader ? I hope you have a nice dayyy!

MY BOOKWORM

❐ summary » matt rarely finds solace in the written word, preferring the tangible world around him. y/n, on the other hand, is a dreamer, her heart and mind forever lost in the pages of books, where every story is a new adventure

❐ pairings » bf!matt x bookworm!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » the workload this week is diabolical af  •  1.31k

┆ bf!matt who loves to watch you get lost in the pages of your favorite books, your eyes lighting up with every twist and turn of the story.

» "what's happening now?" he asks, his eyes studying your expressions intently, watching the way your brows furrow and your lips curl into a smile, even though he hasn't read the book.

"oh, it's so good!" you say, your excitement radiating through every word, making it almost tangible. "the main character just discovered a hidden passage."

he smiles, captivated by the way your animation brings the story to life, each gesture and expression a testament to your passion. "sounds intriguing. maybe i should read it next."

you laugh, the sound bubbling up like a spring, filling the air with a sense of joy that seems to ripple outward, "you haven't read a book since high school, matt."

"true," he confesses with a quiet intensity, "but for you, i'd read anything."

┆ bf!matt who surprises you with rare editions of your favorite books, his face lighting up with pride when he sees your reaction.

» matt entered the room, his steps deliberate and measured, a wrapped package held carefully in his hands. "hey, i have something for you. i think you'll like it," he said, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of excitement, like the first hint of dawn breaking through the night.

your eyes widened with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "what is it, matt?" you inquired, your hand extending towards the mystery that lay within his grasp.

he extended the package towards you, a grin slowly spreading across his face like the rising sun. "open it and see for yourself," he urged, his voice brimming with anticipation.

with eager hands, you meticulously tore open the wrapping paper, each tear revealing more of the treasure within. as the final piece fell away, a rare edition of your favorite book lay before you, its presence almost surreal. your breath caught in your throat. "oh my gosh, matt! this is incredible!" you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of astonishment and joy.

matt's face illuminated with a radiant pride, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "i knew you'd love it. i found it at a little bookstore and just had to get it for you."

overwhelmed with gratitude, you enveloped him in a warm embrace, your emotions pouring forth in an unspoken gesture of appreciation. "thank you so much! this means the world to me," you whispered.

he held you close, his embrace firm yet gentle, his voice a soft whisper that seemed to wrap around your heart. "seeing you this happy is all the thanks i need."

┆ bf!matt who listens intently as you excitedly recount the latest chapter you’ve read, even if he doesn’t fully understand the plot, simply because he loves hearing you talk about what you love.

» matt's eyes were fixed on you as you excitedly recounted the latest chapter you'd read. his expression was soft, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if your words were the sweetest melody. you paused for a moment, noticing his intense gaze, and tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. 

"are you even listening?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your voice carrying a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

matt blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "of course," he replied, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed him. 

you narrowed your eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "then tell me what happens next," you challenged, crossing your arms and leaning back a little, waiting for his response.

he let out a small sigh, his smile turning sheepish. "okay, fine," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "i might have gotten a bit lost in your words... but i just love listening to you talk about your books."

┆ bf!matt who gently teases you about the stack of books on your nightstand, but secretly loves how passionate you are about reading.

» matt strolled into your room, his gaze immediately locking onto the towering stack of books on your nightstand. with a playful grin, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "are you planning to read the entire library?" he teased, his voice light and affectionate.

you rolled your eyes, a knowing smile beginning to tug at your lips. "hey, a girl can never have too many books," you retorted, your arms crossing in a gesture of playful defiance.

matt chuckled softly, his laughter a warm, comforting sound. he stepped closer, his hands gently encircling your waist as he pulled you into an embrace. "i know, i know. it's just impressive how you manage to juggle so many stories at once," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

you shrugged, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "i just love getting lost in different worlds, you know?" you murmured, your eyes momentarily drifting to the stack of books as if each one held a universe waiting to be explored.

he reached out, his fingers delicately brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "and i love how passionate you are about reading," he said softly, his eyes shimmering with admiration. "it’s one of the many things that make you so incredible."

your cheeks warmed at his words, and you couldn't help but smile, a soft blush spreading across your face. "thanks, matt. and for the record, i might need a new bookshelf soon," you replied, your eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and playful anticipation.

he laughed, the sound rich and full, before pulling you into a warm embrace. "i'll help you build it," he promised, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear, as if sealing a pact between kindred spirits.

┆ bf!matt who occasionally reads you to sleep. each sentence he utters is a lullaby, a melodic cadence that dances through the air, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort and serenity.

» the room was bathed in a subdued luminescence, the bedside lamp's soft glow casting intricate, whispering shadows upon the walls. you were nestled comfortably under the covers, your form gently molded against matt's, his back supported by the headrest. 

your body reclined against his, as if he were a living, breathing mattress, the book resting delicately on your lap. his arms enveloped you from behind, a tender embrace that spoke of unspoken promises and silent serenades.

matt's voice was a soothing melody, weaving an intricate symphony of words that cascaded through the air like a gentle stream, each syllable resonating with a calming cadence that lulled the senses into a state of serene tranquility.

you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids growing increasingly heavy as the tendrils of sleep began to weave their way through your consciousness. "you always know how to make bedtime feel magical, matt."

he smiled, a gentle curve gracing his lips as he closed the book softly, the pages whispering secrets as they met. "it's my favorite part of the day, getting to share these moments with you," he murmured, his voice a tender caress in the quiet room.

you reached out, your fingers intertwining with his in a delicate dance. "i love it too. it makes me feel so at peace," you whispered, your touch conveying a depth of emotion that words alone could scarcely capture.

matt set the book aside with a gentle thud and slid under the covers, enveloping you in his embrace. "sweet dreams, love," he whispered, his breath a warm caress against your ear, filling the space with a tender intimacy.

you snuggled closer, feeling the enveloping warmth and safety of his embrace. "goodnight, matt," you murmured, your voice a soft whisper as you drifted into the realm of dreams, the echo of his voice still resonating in your mind.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo

[cera-writes]

A Bite of the Big Easy — A Remy LeBeau Vampire AU pt. 1 🩸

Hoooookay! Here's the first chapter of the Vampire!AU. Not gonna lie, this was fun as hell to write. FYI, This is set in a modern day setting>

Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader

Tags: alcohol, violence, swearing, mentions of infidelity, a bit of fluff

Prompt: Reader is spending her bachelorette weekend down in New Orleans with her bridesmaids. She meets a mysterious stranger with a Cajun flair that shakes things up for her. But will it be more than what she bargained for?

The rhythmic pulse of the music thrummed through the thick New Orleans air, vibrating the cobblestones beneath your dancing feet. It was your bachelorette weekend, and Bourbon Street was a sensory overload in the best way possible. The air hung heavy with the scent of spilled daiquiris and fried seafood, punctuated by the melodic wail of a lone saxophone from a nearby balcony.

You and your girlfriends, a symphony of tipsy laughter in too tight clothing, were jammed into a corner booth at Fat Catz, a legendary French Quarter nightclub. The stage was a riot of color, a burlesque troupe shimmying and swirling under the flickering red light. You were three drinks in, the potent sweetness of a Sazerac warming your stomach, when a slow, bluesy number began.

"This one's for the dreamers," the sultry voice of the emcee announced.

Your girlfriends squealed, grabbing your arms and pulling you towards the dance floor. But before you could join them, a deep, accented voice cut through the music.

You were blissfully unaware that there were a pair of eyes watching you. You didn't have time to really react until a smooth creole voice like velvet rang in your ears amidst the vibrating music.

"Mind if I cut in, cher?"

You turned to find a man standing beside you. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with somewhat long, pretty reddish brown hair that gleamed under the dim lights. His eyes, a startling hue of what looked like the color crimson, held a hint of something ancient, something that sent a shiver down your spine despite the humid night air bellowing inside the door as patrons entered and exited the bar.

"I, uh…" you stammered, momentarily flustered by his undeniable charm.

He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Don't worry, mon ami. I won't tread on your toes, not literally. Name's Remy. Remy LeBeau."

He extended a hand, amusement dancing in his eyes. You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, an electric current that left you breathless.

Wait. This shouldn't be happening. What would your fiance think? Hell, to be honest, he was probably with his buddies back home having the times of their lives... preferably at a strip joint. One dance couldn't hurt.

As he led you onto the dance floor, you stole a glance at his profile. There was something about him, an aura of mystery that you found utterly captivating.

"You seem like a woman with a story," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers down your spine.

"Well, um, I'm actually here with my bridesmaids." You sheepishly smiled, nodding over to them as they swayed tipsy on the dancefloor across from the two of you. Remy was certainly beautiful in a strange sense. But there was something odd about him too. His touch was cool, almost like ice as he placed a hand on the skin of your back. You were just wearing a pair of skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a backless tank top. So when he'd placed his hand there, it nearly made you jump from how ice cold it was.

He made sure to spin you around, twirling you under the muse of the jazz band playing as they took the stage. You felt dizzy, like this was some sort of ritual.

—

Remy's POV

—

A flicker of amusement danced in my crimson eyes as you stammered, your cheeks flushed a charming shade of rose. The scent of honeysuckle and something altogether more intoxicating, a nervous energy perhaps, swirled around you. It had been centuries since I'd indulged in such a human pastime as dancing, but the way you moved, lost in the music, was a melody I couldn't resist.

"Ah, bachelorette festivities, cher," I murmured, my voice a low caress. These nights in the French Quarter were ripe with opportunities, mortals seeking a taste of something forbidden before settling into their preordained lives. But there was something different about you, a spark of defiance in your eyes that intrigued me far more than the usual bachelorette bravado.

"Your friends seem to be enjoying themselves," I continued, watching your gaze flit between me and your giggling companions.

The scent of guilt mingled with the honeysuckle as you bit your lip. This innocent flirtation, fueled by the music and the carefree spirit of the night, was clearly a delicious transgression for you.

"They are," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "But something about you..." The sentence trailed off, leaving a delightful space for unspoken curiosity.

A slow deliberate smile spread across my lips. This little dance had just begun, cher. And in the heart of the pulsating French Quarter, under the cloak of anonymity, I planned to savor every step.

—

Your POV

—

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, yanking you out of Remy's gaze for a sec as you paused your little dance with him. Pulling it out, you saw a text from your fiance.

"Hey beautiful! Having a blast in NOLA? Miss you already! -A"

A stab of guilt hit you. You should be texting back excitedly about daiquiris and burlesque shows, not secretly flirting with a handsome stranger, nor entertaining him with a dance. But Remy's amusement was a delicious lure.

With surprising speed, you typed a reply to your fiance. "Hey hon! Havin' a great time! Dancin' the night away with the girls. Miss you too! See ya soon! 🫶."

Shoving the phone back in your pocket, you looked for a quick excuse to clear your head. Remy's lips quirked up in a knowing smile. "Someone important, cher?" he drawled.

"Hold that thought, I've drank too much and need to use the restroom," you waved it off, cheeks flushed from a rush of adrenaline.

—

Fiance's POV

—

The silk sheets felt like a decadent shroud around Alex, the remnants of their hurried encounter clinging to the air. A satisfied smile curved his lips as he reread your text. "Having a great time! Lots of dancing and fun with the girls. Miss you too! See you soon! 🫶". Everything seemed perfect. The carefully crafted response, the reassurance, the subtle reminder of your impending return. It was a well-rehearsed dance they performed every time you went out with your friends.

Alex tucked his phone away, the soft glow of the screen momentarily illuminating the woman sprawled languidly beside him. Her blonde hair, a tangled mess across the pillow, framed a face flushed with desire. A throaty chuckle escaped her lips, and Alex felt a pang of excitement shoot through him. This stolen moment, this secret affair, was a world away from the life he was about to return to – a life filled with your predictable smiles and picture-perfect expectations.

He knew it was wrong, a gnawing betrayal that twisted in his gut. But the illicit thrill, the intoxicating novelty of it all, was a potent aphrodisiac. Alex traced a finger down the woman's arm, the touch sending shivers down her spine. He reveled in the feeling of being desired, a stark contrast to the comfortable routine he shared with you.

Pushing the guilt down deep, Alex closed the distance between them, the woman's eager embrace momentarily erasing the echo of your name on his lips. Little did you know, the life you were about to return to wasn't nearly as picture-perfect as you believed.

—

Your POV

—

You squeezed your way back through the dense crowd, phone clutched tightly in your hand. The fleeting escape to the restroom offered a moment to clear your head, but the lingering guilt over your conversation with Remy gnawed at you.

Just as you rounded a corner, Remy, his back to you, was surrounded by your bridesmaids, their laughter a touch too loud for your taste. You shouldn't have cared who Remy was talking to, yet a strange possessiveness bubbled within you.

If anything, your bridesmaids had every chance to go home with him, but you were taken. You shouldn't be feeling any sense of jealousy. You literally had no cause to feel the way you did, yet you couldn't help it and it irritated the hell out of you.

You. Had. A. Fiance.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Remy's posture shifted. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze directly. A silent excuse passed between your eyes, and with a smooth word to your bridesmaids, he excused himself.

The crowd parted for him as he effortlessly weaved his way towards you, a secret smile playing on his lips. "There you are, cher," he murmured, his voice a delicious caress. "Ready to pick up where we left off?"

"Um, actually, I think I better be retiring for the night. It's getting late and my hotel isn't too far from here." You replied, glimpsing back towards your bridesmaids. They were ordering even more drinks at the bar, like they hadn't had enough already. But who were you to tell them not to have a good time?

"Thank you for the dance. It was fun," you quickly flashed Remy a smile before turning on your heel to at least tell your friends that you were headed back to the hotel. It was only three blocks away. Surely you'd be fine making the walk back. You had your trusty pepper spray on you, tucked into your other back pocket just in case some asshole tried something tonight on your way back.

Guilt gnawed at you as you weaved through the throng of French Quarter partiers spilling out of the bar. You shouldn't have cared that Remy was surrounded by your friends, and yet, a strange possessiveness bubbled up. You quickly shook your head, ignoring that stupid thought away.

It really shouldn't have mattered to you. They were a bit too tipsy to really stop you from making the trip alone, but honestly you needed some peace and quiet after what had just happened. You were sure he'd resort to flirting with them after you left anyway. And that was none of your business if they wanted to go back to his place for the night. You all knew what you were getting into on this trip.

The fresh air would clear your head and the walk back to your hotel would help sober you up. Slipping out of the bar unnoticed, you felt a strange sense of relief when the throng of bodies thinned and the sounds of drunken laughter faded as you finally turned the corner from the ever so rowdy, raucous Bourbon Street.

The night was thick and humid, the dimly lit streets casting long, menacing shadows. New Orleans really did have a haunting feel to it late at night.

You quickened your pace, the rhythmic click of your boots echoing on the sidewalk. Lost in thought, you didn't notice the figure detach itself from a darkened doorway and begin to follow at a discreet distance.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a boarded-up storefront. "Hey, doll," he slurred, his voice laced with menace. "Looking lost. Mind if I walk you home?"

You froze, hand instinctively darting towards your back pocket. "No thanks," you replied curtly, voice laced with a tremor of fear. You backed up on instinct, making sure to keep a good distance from the strange man.

The man took a menacing step closer, a predatory glint in his eye. "Suit yourself, sweetheart," he sneered, pulling out what looked like the hilt of a knife from behind him.

Just then, a dark shape materialized beside you. Remy, his movements silent and swift, materialized out of the shadows, placing himself between you and the threat. But the night was so dark and everything was cast in an ebony shadow, that you couldn't make out the other person too well.

"Looking for someone to play with, mon ami? Consider lil' ol' me," Remy drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The mugger scoffed. "This ain't your business, buddy. Move along."

Before Remy could respond, you whipped out your pepper spray, finger hovering over the trigger. "Get back!" you shrieked, aimlessly pointing the canister directly at Remy.

Fear clouded your judgment, and in a split second, you discharged the spray. A cloud of capsaicin erupted, momentarily obscuring both Remy and the mugger. You squeezed your eyes shut, coughing as the fumes reached you.

When you opened your eyes again, a horrifying sight met your gaze. The mugger had lunged forward, a glint of metal catching the dim light. He plunged the knife into Remy's side, a sickening thud echoing in the night.

Remy, momentarily stunned, stumbled back, a surprised look on his face. But to your astonishment, you couldn't tell there was any blood yet, no sign of a wound. Just a faint hiss escaping his lips as he swatted away the lingering cloud of pepper spray.

"Well, that was certainly interesting, cher," he muttered, his voice strained but oddly amused.

"Shit, Remy?!" You eyes went wide but before you could say anything else, he lunged at the mugger with unnatural speed, easily disarming him with a single, fluid motion. The mugger, wide-eyed with terror, crumpled to the ground with a groan as Remy delivered a swift blow to his pressure point.

Remy straightened, dusting himself off with an air of nonchalance. But you noticed a slight grimace on his face, and your eyes darted to where the knife had struck him. Seeing it finally, there was a small puncture in his shirt, a single red stain blossoming around it.

"Remy!" you gasped, rushing to his side. "You're hurt!"

He glanced at the stain, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Seems that fella managed to snag me after all," he admitted, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry, cher, it's jus' a mere scratch. But perhaps you wouldn't mind patchin' me up when we get back? I'd hate to ruin a perfectly good shirt."

Then it hit you. "You were following me weren't you?" You scoffed. "Jesus...how was I supposed to know you weren't gonna pull the same shit as him?" You scoffed, casting a glance over at the guy he'd just knocked out.

"Trust me cher," Remy winced, "If I hadn't have come you'd probably have just pepper sprayed him to death. Better to leave em' knocked out." He smirked.

You sighed, crossing you arms. "Dammit, okay...we gotta make this quick. You sure you don't need me to call someone? An ambulance?"

Remy shook his head. "Not necessary, cher. It's not that bad."

You glanced down at the red stain on his shirt. "Not bad? Your shirt is practically soaked with blood now. C'mon," you huffed, "it's the least I can do for you after you saved my ass and I pepper sprayed you."

Remy simply grinned. "Thanks cher."

"Don't mention it."

He followed you one more block to your hotel. It was over on Ursuline Street so things were much quieter in that part of town. "Hotel Villa Convento. House of the Rising Sun. You've got taste, cherie." He smirked, following you into the elevator.

"Bridesmaids booked it. They wanted the free parking." You shrugged. As the two of you made it to the king suite on the top floor, you made haste and ushered him inside quickly after sliding your room card through the slot.

"We gotta make this quick, okay? They'll probably be heading back any second. I don't think having a strange, rather pretty man in the room with me alone is a good look." You mentioned, pulling him into the bathroom.

"Heh, you think I'm pretty?" He teased. You cast him a look that said 'drop it'.

He took the hint and didn't press you any further much to his amusement. You left him leaning against the bathroom counter to go find your med kit.

"I have a first aid kit in my luggage. I'm always prepared for emergencies." You said, digging through your suitcase before you finally found it shoved underneath a pair of shorts.

"Got it," you quickly met back up with him in the bathroom and realized that you wouldn't be able to dress the wound without getting him to take off his shirt first.

You bit your lip, torn between frustration and a weird sense of exhilaration. Here you were, in a hotel bathroom with a stranger who was undeniably attractive, tending to a wound he got protecting you. This entire freaking night had been a whirlwind, and this situation was just the cherry on top.

"Alright," you started, forcing a business-like tone that you weren't entirely sure you were carrying off. "To patch you up properly, I'll need you to take off your shirt."

Remy, who had been watching you rummage through your kit with amusement, raised an eyebrow.

"Just the shirt, cher? No need to get hasty." A playful glint flickered in his eyes, a hint of his earlier amusement lingering.

"Seriously, Remy?" you countered, a touch of exasperation creeping into your voice despite the unexpected flutter in your stomach. "This isn't some kind of game. You've got a wound, and I need to see it."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Alright, alright, cher. You win." He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glimpse of toned muscle underneath. The red stain from the knife was more prominent now, spreading outwards with a concerning urgency.

You quickly averted your gaze, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. This was serious. "Hold still," you muttered, reaching into your kit and pulling out a pair of antiseptic wipes. "This might sting a little."

As you cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his cool skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You fingertips grazed one of many numerous scars that adorned his body. He winced slightly, but remained silent, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins, your hands were surprisingly steady.

"You know," Remy murmured, his voice a husky whisper, "you mentioned not wanting a strange man in your room. Maybe I wasn't being very reassuring back there."

You paused, glancing up at him. His dark eyes held a hint of something...else, something that made your breath hitch. The implication hung heavy in the air, and a blush crept up your cheeks.

"That's one way to put it," you mumbled, focusing on applying a generous amount of antibiotic cream to the wound. You fumbled for a bandage in your kit, the white sterile squares suddenly seeming much too small for the situation.

"Look," Remy said, his voice softer now, "I appreciate you patching me up. You really didn't have to."

"Well, someone had to," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You secured the bandage as best you could, the awkward intimacy of the situation making your heart pound a little too fast. "There. All done."

You stepped back, suddenly very aware of the space between the two of you. The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Remy's gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, sending shivers down your spine. You cleared your throat, breaking the spell.

"I, uh, maybe you should get going," you stammered, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

"My bridesmaids could be back any minute."

Remy's lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. "As you wish, cher. But this isn't the end of our conversation, is it?"

The sheer motherfucking audacity of this man—

He'd waltzed in, danced with you, followed you, then gotten himself stabbed protecting you, and now he was leaving with a suggestive question hanging in the air? You should be relieved to see him go, to finally have a moment to catch your breath and process the chaotic turn your night had taken.

Instead, a strange sense of disappointment settled in your stomach. "I don't…" you stammered, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, you didn't know what this night meant. Remy was a stranger, a captivating enigma who'd saved you from a potential mugging or worse, but you were getting married in a few days.

Remy chuckled, a rich sound that danced along your nerves. "Don't worry about it, cher. Think of it as a…favor owed. You saved me from a dull evening, and I returned the favor. Consider us even." He took a step closer, his dark eyes gleaming with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"But," he continued, his voice a husky whisper, "perhaps you could offer a more…personal repayment sometime. Name the time and place, cher. I wouldn't dream of saying no." With that, he winked, a gesture that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

Before you could stammer out a reply, he turned and you soon heard the click of your room door, leaving you breathless and bewildered in the sterile confines of the bathroom.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you thrilled at the unexpected encounter, to the danger and intrigue and mystery that swirled around Remy. But another, more sensible part, reminded you of your impending wedding, of the life you'd built for yourself.

With a sigh, you forced yourself to focus on the practicalities. You cleaned up the supplies you'd used, shoving them back into your first-aid kit with trembling hands. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins began to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.

Slipping out of the bathroom, you found your room empty. The faint sounds of laughter drifting from down the hall told you your bridesmaids were headed up, blissfully unaware of the drama that had unfolded just steps away.

Undressing and stepping into your silken night gown, you crawled into bed and pulled the covers up tight, as the events of the night replaying in your mind like a fever dream.

Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with fragmented images of blood colored eyes, a dangerous smile, and the echo of a question that hung heavy in the air: what had you gotten yourself into?

[caramelt4me]

Secret — (Yandere Idol X Kidnapped Reader)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

𝕋he crowd roared, voices blending into a deafening wave of cheers as the members of Twilight Dreamers, the hottest K-pop boy group of their generation, stepped onto the stage for their closing act. The stadium was electric with anticipation, and when the opening notes of their iconic song, "Endless Echo," filled the air, the energy reached a fever pitch. The song was more than just a track; it was an ode to their devoted fans, Moonbeams, an anthem of eternal connection that tied the fans and idols together in an unbreakable bond.

Asher, the main vocalist, took center stage, his sapphire-blue eyes sweeping over the adoring crowd, each face lit with joy and tears. His voice rang out, pure and emotive, pouring out the heartache and passion of the lyrics, which spoke of unending love and loyalty. Every note resonated with raw emotion, drawing tears from fans who clung to each word, each line of "Endless Echo" reverberating through the stadium like a heartbeat. Damian and Theo stood by his side, hands stretched out to the crowd, their harmonies blending perfectly with Asher's voice. They swayed, matching the rhythm, while fans waved back, each hand reaching for the connection they felt with their idols. In the back, Clade and Nex held their ground, hyping up the crowd with smooth, effortless dance moves and infectious smiles, their playful interactions adding a layer of excitement to the heartfelt moment.

However, unlike their other performances, each time this song would play – it would be Asher who captivated them all: His eyes closed as he sang the final high note with a soulfulness that held the power to break million hearts in a blink.

When his voice faded, he opened his eyes, and the stadium erupted. He looked at his bandmates with a warm, grateful smile, and together they side-hugged, bowing to their fans. The roar of the crowd echoed like a euphoric pulse that had yet to settle. As they exchanged looks with wide grins, their hearts raced, riding on the thrill of their last performance for the year.

All the members would be focusing on their respective solo projects and taking much needed rest until their comeback scheduled after six to seven months. Thus, this performance meant a temporary farewell gift to their fans – who would eagerly await their return. They shared a final wave with the fans, relishing every cheer and lightstick that illuminated the stadium like a sea of stars.

But as they left the stage and stepped behind the curtain, the lights dimmed and the magic faded.

By the time they climbed into the van, a sense of quiet had already settled over them. They slipped into their usual seats, the atmosphere inside shifting from celebratory to subdued.

The contrast was stark: only moments ago, they were flawless idols, bathed in adoration, embodying the unreachable ideal their fans cherished. Now, they were just five young men, caught in the strange in-between of fame and reality.

Theo chuckled at something on his phone, while Nex's face creased with a deep frown as he scrolled through messages. Clade peered over Nex’s shoulder, momentarily concerned before his lips curved into an amused smirk - entertained by the maknae’s frustration, while Damian lay back with his arms crossed, eyes shut, brows knit as if blocking out the exhaustion that lingered beneath the night’s high. The thrill of the stage had drained away, leaving a quiet, almost hollow void in its wake.

Everyone knew that being an idol demanded a crafted image, a painstakingly curated persona. The industry sold a dream, one that promised perfection, a fantasy that kept fans enthralled with illusions of beauty and personality, setting a standard almost impossible to live up to. And yet, some fans blurred reality with their fantasies, forming attachments that were built on half-truths and well-practiced smiles, all too easily crossing lines in their devotion. But it wasn’t just the fans who played with fire; each of the members had their own way of dealing with fame’s side effects.

Damian and Theo, frequently spotted with vape pens or packs of cigarettes during livestreams, leaned into the group’s "bad boy" reputation, a rebellious streak that only made them more beloved among their fans. Clade and Nex, on the other hand, had their fair share of dating scandals, but were skillful enough to dodge serious trouble each time. The four had also earned the title of being quite the party animals - although, that was given due to the industry they were in. Their agency of course, was more than willing to cover for them, knowing that Twilight Dreamers was a lucrative powerhouse, their pristine image essential to the label’s success. Even when the recent shocking rumors of the youngest member's ties to an underground drug lord surfaced, their devoted Moonbeams stood by the boy-group, fierce in their loyalty, ready to defend their idols at any cost.

And then there was Asher.

Though Damian was the official leader, Asher was the group’s true center of gravity. Scandal-free, disciplined, and with an almost untouchable demeanor, he had become a paragon across fandoms, adored as much for his mystery as for his charm. The "Ice Prince," as he was fondly dubbed, seemed almost otherworldly in his restraint, his reputation unblemished by any hint of controversy. Fans clung to every word he wrote, especially the lyrics of Endless Echo, the song that dripped with romance and longing, exposing a softer, almost vulnerable side that surprised everyone. His fans dreamed of a partner like him, someone both devoted and complex, whose quiet allure only made him seem more perfect—and entirely out of reach.

But that too of course, was far from the truth.

The van came to a halt, and Damian, now awake, pushed the door open without a word. Theo and Clade scrambled after him, the former calling out to their leader, “Wait up, Daim! Don’t leave us behind!”

Damian strode off with his jacket thrown back on his shoulder, not looking back.

"Let him go, Theo," Clade chuckled, eyeing the red-haired male's frustration. He slipped an arm around the youngest’s waist, leaning close with a teasing glint in his eye. "We all know the real party doesn’t start until our maknae decides it’s time. Isn’t that right, Nexie?~"

Nex flinched, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly masked it with a smirk. “Yeah, why the rush? The night’s still young,” he shot back, brushing off Clade’s arm with an annoyed look. Clade chuckled, his amber eyes catching the faint blush creeping onto Nex's cheeks.

As the maknae moved to step out, Asher’s hand shot out, gripping his arm and pulling him back. His face was calm, but his icy-blue eyes held a warning that sent a chill down Nex’s spine. “Don’t overdo it,” Asher said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t cover for you this time.”

The pink-haired male swallowed hard, caught off guard by the eldest member’s intensity. “W-What do you mean, hyung? You said it’s ok to party once in a while. Our tour just ended so—”

“You know what I mean,” Asher cut in, his voice like steel. “You’re walking a thin line. Next time, it won’t just be a hiatus. Try jail time. No career to come back to.”

“Hey, back off,” Theo spoke up, frowning. “It’s not like you��re someone to talk—”

“Theo.” Damian’s voice sliced through the tension, as the three younger idols turned to see that their leader had retraced his steps. The raven-haired male gave Theo a look, a silent command to drop it, an unexpected lifeline from Asher’s icy scrutiny.

Asher raised an eyebrow, glancing at Damian, before his gaze stiffened upon realization.

 – they knew his secret.

His jaw clenched as he waited for the raven-haired male to make a move – his icy gaze a sliver away from insanity. Instead, Damian chose to play dumb and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Can we go already? My head’s killing me.”

The others gratefully took the cue. “Y-Yeah,” Theo muttered, nudging Nex and Clade, who quickly fell in line, all of them carefully avoiding Asher’s unyielding gaze as they filed out of the van.

Asher’s cold blue eyes followed their retreat toward the party, just another in the countless string they’d gone to since turning legal. His expression remained unreadable as they disappeared from view.

The low hum of the streetlights cast a dim glow around them as the van sat idling in a quiet backlot. Asher leaned against the open door, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, unaffected by the nervously fidgeting manager who had just stepped out of the driver’s seat.

“Mr. Baek,” Asher said coolly, still not turning his head. “Were you just admiring the view, or did you manage to handle the situation at the club?”

Baek’s hands fumbled as he clasped them together, his laugh a little too forced. “Y-Yes, it’s all done, just as you asked,” he replied, clearing his throat. “The laced drinks have been swapped for regular ones, and by morning, the supplier will be…handled. I’ll have Nex’s phone bugged again after he crashes. Just like last time.” He chuckled nervously. “I thought the little rascal had learned his lesson, but old habits, huh? Still, um...” He hesitated, glancing at Asher’s unreadable expression. “...won’t the boys eventually catch on? I mean, they might suspect you’re involved.”

Asher let out a low laugh, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Why? Do you plan to snitch on me to our Dear Leader-nim just like the way you did about the Cabin.”

Baek’s face drained of color, his breath catching as he grasped Asher’s arm in panic. “N-No! I’d never! Did…Did Damian say something? That—” His words faltered as Asher’s gaze turned ice-cold, and he pulled his hand back as if burned. “Please, Asher, believe me! I didn’t tell him anything. That day, he must’ve overheard us on his own—I swear, I didn’t—”

“Relax, Mr. Baek,” Asher said smoothly, clamping a firm hand on the manager’s shoulder. "I was just kidding."

He smiled, although that didn’t reach his cold eyes. “You have been dedicated to our group since its inception for several years now. Moreover, I’ve known you since I was a kid; you’re like an older brother to me. I trust you wouldn’t betray that.”

Baek’s face broke into a hesitant smile, relief flooding his features—until Asher tightened his grip on his shoulder, the smile widening ever so slightly. “At least, not intentionally,” he added, voice laced with something unspoken. “And it seems our Leader-nim is is content to stay out of this, so it’s all good.”

The manager seemed to regain life as he sighed in relief, but that only lasted for a solid second before Asher yanked him forward by the back of his head, their faces mere inches apart. His voice dropped to a whisper, sharp enough to slice through the tension. “Consider yourself lucky no one else overheard. If this ever leaked to the media… let’s just say I’d have my own way of ‘handling’ it. You might not come out so lucky, Baek.”

Baek fell to his knees, his voice shaking as he begged for forgiveness. Amusement flickered in Asher’s eyes as he watched Baek ramble on, looking hauntingly beautiful and distant, like some vengeful angel. After a moment, he placed a patronizing hand on Baek’s head, gently patting it as if he were a loyal pet.

“It’s alright, Mr. Baek,” he murmured, a twisted gentleness in his tone. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. Mistakes happen.” He ran his fingers through the manager’s hair before gripping a handful tightly, making Baek wince. “But surely you understand that we learn from our mistakes, don’t we?”

“Ah! Y-Yes, absolutely, Asher! I’ll never slip up again—”

“I wasn’t finished.” Asher’s voice turned frosty, pulling Baek’s head up so they were face-to-face, blue eyes gleaming with a hard edge. “When I said I wanted surveillance, I meant complete surveillance. Not just Nex—I want full access to all their chats and calls. Nex may have messed up, but the others aren’t far behind. They’re all barely holding it together.”

He paused, something shifting in his gaze, a flicker of wistfulness. “I get it,” he murmured. “I was worse than them. I gave you quite the hard time, didn't I ? You must be glad when it all ended. When I met… her.”

At the mention, Asher’s usual composure softened, his face momentarily flushed.

Baek, still held firmly by the hair, nodded quickly, swallowing his discomfort. He knew Asher’s past all too well—the meltdowns, the outbursts. The scars on his body were hidden now, erased by the country’s top surgeons, except for the one on his cheek, left as a reminder.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing they know my secret,” Asher mused aloud. “Maybe they’d stop running from their own shadows and find someone to call only theirs.” His grip relaxed, and Baek exhaled in relief, nodding along. “So long as it’s nothing worse than a dating scandal or some partying,” Asher added, shrugging. “Anything else is too risky. Am I clear?”

Baek gulped, scrambling to his feet. “Crystal clear, Asher. I’ll bug their devices after the party—and I’ll make sure to answer your calls in private from now on.”

The blue-eyed idol smirked, letting him go and stepping back, while Baek slumped, catching his breath. “That’s more like it,” he said with a hint of satisfaction. “I expect no next time. Don’t let me down, alright?”

Baek straightened, nodding furiously as he fixed his disheveled clothes.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Asher’s voice was casual again as he reached into his pocket. “Leave me the keys to the other car. I’ll be heading to the cabin tonight—I have no reason to stay in the city with the tour done.”

“Yes, of course. I moved your brand shoots and interviews to later in the month, as requested. I did my best to buy you time, but Mr. CEO insisted—”

“Spare me the details, Mr. Baek,” Asher waved it off, holding out his hand. “I know you must have tried to handle the old man. It's fine. As long as he protects what’s mine, I’ll be nice and keeping being his ‘golden goose.’"

The manager handed over the keys, nodding obediently. Asher’s gaze thawed as his fingers tenderly felt the familiar bad-crocheted bunny key chain attached to it. “Also, don’t disturb me unless it’s urgent,” he added softly.

Baek bowed his head, backing away, leaving the two-faced idol to his thoughts as the van finally disappeared into the night.

Asher threw his bag onto the passenger seat of his car, and started the engine. He sighed, impatient to drive off into the night – to the place he always retreated to when he got a moment to breath from his hectic schedule as an idol.

The Cabin.—a place he considered more of a home than his luxurious studio apartment in the same celebrity neighbourhood as all the rich and famous A-listers.

A place that held his kryptonite.

His everything.

You.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

[nintendo-b1tch]

hiya! can i request reactions to a reader/ player humming songs- which they probably shouldn't know [at least in the eyes on the chain, As well as other themes,] like- the ballad of the goddess, or epona's theme. maybe zelda's lullaby. song of storms etc.

I’m making this a series with each person! This one is with Legend!

Hope this is good, I’m not very confident about anything I write!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you began setting up the stage, you couldn't help but notice a group of men nearby. A small smile crept onto your lips, knowing that you would have an audience to share your musical gifts with. Delicately rummaging through your satchel, you retrieved a worn and weathered notebook—a treasure chest of your innermost thoughts and inspirations.

Carefully opening the notebook, your eyes were greeted by a sea of meticulously crafted words and hauntingly beautiful melodies. This notebook held the key to your dreams, capturing every detail and emotion that flickered through your mind. Each song was carefully composed, with melodies that echoed the very essence of your dreams. It was a tangible representation of your imagination and creativity—a cherished possession that held the power to transport you and your band to magical realms.

Last night had been no exception. In the solace of sleep, you had experienced a dream so vivid and extraordinary that it had become the foundation for the song you planned to share with your audience. The dream had woven a tapestry of vibrant colours, intricate plotlines, and ethereal harmonies, all of which you had painstakingly transcribed into the pages of your cherished notebook.

As you sat down, the warm sunlight gently caressed your face, illuminating the words that spilled forth from your pen. With each stroke of the ink, you imbued the song with a piece of your soul, allowing the audience to experience the very essence of your dreams and aspirations. The notebook served as both a conduit and a sanctuary, capturing the delicate balance between reality and imagination that fueled your musical genius.

In this moment, surrounded by the sights and sounds of preparation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and purpose. The group of men became silent, captivated by the sight of you pouring your heart onto paper.

As you stood amidst the bustling stable, your observant eyes keenly captured the men engrossed in their own individual tasks. Amidst this sea of faces, your gaze effortlessly homed in on a certain man, his presence seemingly emanating a captivating aura. It was in that moment of connection that your eyes ventured towards his unique attribute—a whimsical pink streak, playfully intermingling with his tousled blond locks. A sense of intrigue filled your being, prompting an involuntary smile to grace your lips, which he quickly averted in response.

A tinge of disappointment subtly crept upon you as he shifted his attention elsewhere. However, just as reality began to quell the excitement within you, your dearest friend, Violynne, materialized, her familiar touch landing on your shoulders. A melodic laughter escaped her lips as she delighted in your startled reaction.

" Hello there, dear dreamer! Our setup is now complete, and we eagerly invite you to partake, " she announced, bearing a radiant smile that transported you back to those cherished childhood memories. This endearing nickname had been affectionately bestowed upon you by your mother, recognizing your innate tendency to wander in the realm of dreams. Through your enchanting melodies, which were born from the depths of your slumbering mind, you effortlessly weaved tales that spoke to the hearts of all who listened.

You stepped onto the stage with a smile as you adjusted the hair pin that held your bangs back. The hair pin was a blooming flower, and adjusting your hair pin was a nervous habit. You closed your eyes to listen to the melody your band mates began to play. You slowly swayed to the melody before you began to sing happily.

" Sleepers wake, dreams will fade...

Although we cling fast...

Was it real, what we saw?

I believe... "

Your eyes locked onto the group of men, and you noticed the one with a pink streak in his messy blond hair was extremely tense as you continued to sing.

" Lost in dreams, we sleep on…

Tossing and turning…

Stay with me, by my side

Never leave... "

As you poured your heart into the song you sang, it was evident that this particular melody held a special significance for you. Its origins traced back to the ephemeral realm of dreams, where your subconscious vividly painted a tale of a heroic figure who unwittingly stumbled upon an enigmatic island. This island, as the mysterious whispers revealed, was not a tangible reality but a mere fabrication conjured by an omnipotent deity.

As the narrative of your dream unfolded, you couldn't help but empathize with the protagonist's emotional journey. The pain that he had endured upon discovering that the object of his affection, the girl he had fallen deeply in love with, was naught but a figment of an otherworldly imagination cut deep into your soul. The sheer disappointment and heartache that he must have experienced mirrored your own heartfelt emotions as you belted out the lyrics, punctuating the tender chords strummed by your bandmates.

Together, your collaborative efforts infused every note with an intense and bittersweet melancholy, painting a vivid sonic landscape that encapsulated the essence of the hero's tumultuous odyssey. You moved in perfect synchrony with the music, swaying and letting the rhythm guide your emotions as you embodied the pain and longing that permeated the hero's every breath.

Within this extended rendition of the song, you found solace in the knowledge that your heartfelt performance resonated with the universal human experience of confronting illusions and facing the inevitable moments of disillusionment. The immersive power of music allowed you to capture the essence of the hero's struggle, giving voice to the unspoken depths of his sorrow and regret. With every carefully crafted lyric and expertly executed musical phrase, you sculpted an auditory masterpiece that touched the hearts of all who listened, inviting them to dwell in the nuanced tapestry of emotions that you wove into the very fabric of your performance.

" What if the worst comes?

If someday this sweet reverie ends

We too, our memories, for real

Fade us by... "

Your eyes were intensely fixated on the group of men who seemed to be in a state of desperate flurry; their efforts to comfort the distraught individual with the unmistakable pink streak in his hair were apparent. It was evident from the violent tremors that ran through his body that he was grappling with an overwhelming sense of distress.

Intriguingly, you found yourself making eye contact with one of the men in the group. His eyes spoke volumes, silently pleading for assistance, as it became increasingly clear that their efforts were falling short and they were unable to assuage the inner turmoil of their comrade.

Without a moment's hesitation, you swiftly descended from the stage, propelled by a potent mix of concern and empathy. Though you were unaware of the exact cause of their distress, a resolute determination to lend a helping hand coursed through your veins, urging you forward.

" Excuse me, could I try? " you uttered softly, gently tapping the shoulder of one of the men who had been valiantly striving to bring solace to the troubled hero. Sensing the urgency in your voice, he stepped back, granting you an opportunity to offer your aid. You instinctively pulled the distressed individual into your embrace, guiding his head to rest against the comforting warmth of your chest.

As the haunting melody you had just performed on stage lingered in the air, you slowly resumed singing, the melodic strains weaving their way around the tense atmosphere. With every dulcet note resonating through the space, a sense of tranquility descended, wrapping its soothing tendrils around the agitated man. A tender smile graced your lips, highlighting the genuine affection that emanated from deep within your soul.

Your fingers, seemingly guided by an invisible force, caressed his dishevelled blond locks, gently untangling them with each tender stroke. The delicate touch of your fingertips served as a calming balm, soothing the frayed edges of his distressed spirit.

As you reassured him, " You're okay, you're okay now, alright? " In a gentle and soothing tone, a warm smile slowly formed on your face. Looking into his eyes, you noticed a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, indicating that your comforting words and touch were having an effect on him. He leaned towards your touch, seeking solace and support in your presence, and it melted your heart to witness his vulnerability.

However, it was the heartbreaking mumble that escaped his lips next that truly struck a chord within you.

" Don't leave me too... " The desperation laced in his voice made it clear that he not only craved reassurance in that moment, but he also dreaded the thought of being abandoned or left alone. His fear and vulnerability resonated deeply with you, igniting a sense of empathy within your being.

In response to his plea, tears of empathy welled up in your eyes, but you quickly composed yourself, determined to provide him with the reassurance and support he needed. Your smile softened even further as you leaned in and gently pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, aiming to convey your unwavering presence and commitment to him.

In that simple, intimate gesture, your intention was to assure him that you would never leave him. The gentle warmth that your lips offered to his forehead was a physical manifestation of your emotional connection and promise to stand by his side, even through the darkest of moments.

As the vibrant sun gracefully descended beneath the horizon, casting a warm and gentle glow over the surroundings, you found yourself in a position of comfort and solace. It was in this serene moment that you gently aided the man, now affectionately referred to as Legend, in finding peaceful repose. With utmost tenderness, you supported his head against your thighs, a gesture that invoked a flicker of contentment within your heart. A soft smile adorned your face as your delicate fingers mindfully glided through his silky strands of blond hair. Seemingly lost in the tranquilly of the scene, his hat lay peacefully nearby, a testament to the connection you both shared.

Yet, as your eyes wandered beyond the partnered hush, you couldn't help but notice the penetrating gaze of the other men. Caught off guard by their unspoken curiosity, you broke the silence and sought an explanation for their inquisitive stares.

" What? " you inquired, a hint of puzzlement lacing your voice. Uncertainty lingered as to why the sight of you and Legend together seemed to evoke such intrigue.

One of the men, his countenance adorned with distinctive facial markings, stepped forward, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and intrigue. " It's just, " he began, a hint of awe colouring his words.

" We've come to know Legend as a man who rarely succumbs to the solace of sleep. " This revelation nudged your curiosity towards the forefront, urging you to delve deeper into the intricate layers that made up the enigmatic character that was Legend.

With a thoughtful gaze, you studied his slumbering form, tracing the contours of his face with gentle admiration. It was then that your observations brought forth the telltale signs of weariness etched beneath his eyes, appearing as delicate lines reminiscent of the weight he undoubtedly carried. The realization of his sleep-deprived state deepened your understanding of the complexities woven into the fabric of his being.

A second man, adorned in a tunic blending shades of green and brown, broke the silence, his voice carrying a trace of vulnerability and compassion.

" When he does finally surrender to sleep, " he confessed, a hint of trepidation present in his words, " it often leads him down a path plagued by haunting nightmares. " The gravity of this revelation hung heavy in the air, painting a vivid picture of a man who stood on the precipice of sleep, forever entangled in the clutches of his past.

In that moment, the significance of your presence and the solace you provided to Legend transcended mere comfort. Through your touch and unwavering support, you symbolized a sanctuary from the terrors that beset his slumber. And as you continued to tenderly caress his hair, you understood the profound impact of your actions. You had become the guardian of his blissful reprieve, a silent protector ushering him into the realm of restorative dreams, free from the relentless grip of his haunting nightmares.

" I see... " you mumbled, absorbing the information given by the group. They had just discussed their plans to leave the stable tomorrow, but the mere thought of your companion experiencing a violent breakdown during a nightmare tugged at your heartstrings. It was in that moment that you made a firm decision—you needed to stay by his side.

Unable to bear the thought of him suffering, you mustered up the courage to ask, " Can I come along? I can't stand the thought of him enduring pain alone. Please, allow me to join. I may not have experience using a sword, but I have received some basic self-defence training. " As you glanced around the room, your eyes fixated on the swords that were positioned beside each of the men. Their presence intimidated you, yet your determination outweighed any fear.

After a brief pause, one of the men responded, " Well, if you're willing to fight the monsters we encounter on this journey, then sure, you can come with us. "

Relieved by their acceptance, a smile formed on your lips. However, curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't help but inquire about their names. It was then that Time took the initiative to introduce the group, pointing to each man as he spoke. " You can call me Time. This is Sky, " he gestured towards a man with a cloak and green tunic " Wild, also known as Chef, " he continued, indicating a man who had a blue tunic and ponytail. " Four, or Smith, " Time pointed to yet another member, whose steady gaze exuded a sense of reliability. " Hyrule, or Rulie, " he said, motioning to a man with a brown and green tunic. " Twilight, or Rancher, " Time indicated a figure with a mysterious aura. " Warriors, sometimes referred to as Captain, this is Wind or Sailor " he spoke of a man who emanated authority with a flowing blue scarf and a teen with a blue shirt. Finally, he revealed the man you were holding onto, saying, " And the one you're holding is Legend, though many call him Veteran. "

As the names of these individuals echoed in your mind, you began to piece together the diverse group before you. Each name held significance, representing facets of their personalities and strengths. It was clear that you had joined a band of resilient warriors, ready to face the perils that awaited them on their journey.

With a smile and your heart brimming with anticipation, you eagerly embraced the upcoming adventure. The anticipation was almost palpable in the air. But as excitement engulfed you, your joyous mood was abruptly interrupted when Warriors unexpectedly clasped onto your arm and forcibly guided you towards the stable. The suddenness of this action caught you off guard, resulting in a surprised squeak escaping from your lips.

" Wa-Wait! What about Legend!? " You blurted out, your voice filled with concern, as you were whisked away into the stable against your will.

Inside the stable, as Warriors began examining your attire and diligently taking measurements, you were left puzzled by his actions. What was he doing? Why did he seem so focused on your outfit? These questions swirled around your mind, only adding to your confusion.

" Since you are joining our ranks, wearing a dress simply won't do. Your movements must be unhindered, and you must be prepared for combat at all times, " Warriors explained earnestly, his voice carrying a touch of authority. His words resonated with you, triggering a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. As your mind raced to grasp this sudden change in attire, Warriors assured you that your new outfit would be ready by the following day.

With these words ringing in your ears, you swiftly made your way back to Legend, who lay anxiously in the designated area. His distressed state was evident as he trembled, tossed, and turned, desperately reaching out for your presence. It tore at your heartstrings to witness his unease.

Determined to soothe his worries, you hurriedly approached and embraced him. His trembling arms clung tightly to your waist, seeking comfort and reassurance. As his head nestled against your stomach, his once-tense body gradually relaxed, surrendering to the familiarity of your touch. A genuine smile delicately crept upon your lips as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, ensuring him of your undying devotion.

[meiluu]

Welcome <3

My Masterlist

*just a little note I would like to thank you for stopping by and checking out my stories I hope you like them! and as I grow more confident with my writing I'll open up requests for some of the characters I'll be writing for*

{also don't be afraid to comment on my posts, I would love to interact with y'all. but don't feel pressured either, just a simple like really helps me in letting me know that you like my content.}

TWISTERS (Movie, 2024)

Tyler Owens

Dreamin' about cowboys: SMUT 18+, pregnant!reader imagine

DC

Bruce Wayne, Batman

Bats: FLUFF Bruce Wayne thoughts,imagine/drabble

SPIDER-MAN

Spider-Man 2099, Miguel O'Hara

Fangs: SMUT

Good girl: NSFW drabble

Soft Tunes: FLUFF drabble, Mermaid AU, Dad! Miguel

Spider-Man, Peter Parker

Merry Little Christmas: FLUFF, drabble

Fight Our Battles: FLUFF, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, one-shot

Tis' The Season: SMUT 18+, one-shot

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Edward Cullen's Mate: SMUT 18+, one-shot

FINAL FANTASY VII

Cloud Strife

Just a thought about Cloud Strife: SMUT 18+, drabble

Pillow Princess Cloud: SMUT 18+, drabble

Cloud?: SMUT 18+, ANGST, drabble

Everything and You: SMUT 18+, one-shot.

RESIDENT EVIL

Leon S. Kennedy

His Sanctuary: SMUT, post-re:4

Good Boy: SMUT re:2 drabble

NSFW alphabet: A-D, E-H, I-M,

Stress reliever: SMUT re:2 drabble

Stray: FLUFF, can be any leon past re:2

Infected: SMUT, post re:4 if Leon didn’t get cured of the plagas

Flour: SMUT, drabble

Sleepy: SMUT, one-shot, re:2

Heat: FLUFF drabble, any Leon past re2

Black veins: SMUT re:4 plagas!Leon

Halloween fun: SMUT, re:4 AU, oneshot

"Touch her, and I'll kill you.": SMUT re:4, plagas!Leon

THE SANDMAN (NETFLIX SHOW)

Morpheus a.k.a Dream

Dreamer Held Captive: one-shot of Morpheus saving you and bringing you to the dreaming.

Morpheus' Return: one-shot of when Morpheus returns to the dreaming.

Lover's Embrace: one-shot, you and Morpheus' journey of your pregnancy.

CALL OF DUTY (MODERN WAREFARE 2 [2022])

Simon Riley a.k.a Ghost

Comfort: one-shot, ghost helps you after a rough mission.

Let me protect you: pt.1 , pt.2 , SMUT in pt.2. a surprise confession opens the door to a new relationship.

MISC. WORKS

Ghostface: pt.1 ,

[midnightsunnyday]

Hold Back The Dawn (Lucifer x Reader)

********

You held him in your arms, groggy and yawning. Soon, you both would part, and all the warmth would follow. But before then...

"Did you sleep well, my love?" Lucifer's kisses were lazy and without aim across the top of your forehead. He too, dreaded mornings as much as you did.

You nodded, head still heavy with sleep, a small whine escaping as he spoke the accursed words:

"It's time to wake up."

You tugged him closer, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He assumed this meant you weren't moving.

He assumed right.

Lucifer sighed, your grip tightening in protest with every movement he tried. Such behavior was common place, yet he simply smiled. "And here I thought I'd present you with my three realm famous stacked pancakes. Yet if you insist on holding me captive..."

Your grip lessened, yet not by much. "Give me a minute."

"Very well. Yet only a minute."

And so he stilled, cradling you as your breaths fell and rose. In the Devildom, not many creatures alerted the world of waking. Yet in your realm, he'd forgotten how loud mornings could be. How the birds celebrated the coming day with chirps and beating wings. He could hear your neighbors stumbling and stomping through their forced rituals. The popping of a car's engine as it struggled down the road. The blaring of today's top 40 hits. The laughter that followed over it. Mornings in the human realm were noisy indeed, yet a fair price to pay to lay beside the one he loved.

The sun began to crease the darkness, beckoning the rest of its dreamers to wake. It was almost sinful to disturb the peace they'd made here. But the world would not wait. Not even for a moment as lovely as this.

It'd well gone past a minute, yet Lucifer found that time only acted as a nuisance than an aid when with you. He could view a million sunrises and still they'd never compare to how he felt in this moment, stroking your face as you finally rose, with a smile as bright as first light.

For the sake of this moment, and many more after, the son of morning would gladly go against his namesake, standing before the horizon and holding back the dawn itself.

[zapreportsblog]

Wish Upon A Star

➥ summary: (y/n) is just a overworked young adult who’s only real passion in life is living her best life for the man in the posters above her bed, Miguel O’Hara

➥ a/n: this was created and inspired by this post by @jayden-killer

The city sprawled beneath the night sky, its neon lights casting a vibrant glow that clashed with the darkness above. Among the countless inhabitants of this metropolis, a young adult named (Y/N) stood on her apartment balcony, her weary eyes tracing the familiar landscape. She was overworked, exhausted, but deep inside, she couldn't care less. Each day, the promise of returning home to her "husband" was enough to keep her going.

(Y/N) had always been a dreamer. In a world where connections were formed through screens and virtual spaces, she had found solace in a poster hanging on her bedroom wall. It depicted Miguel O'Hara, the iconic hero of her favorite comic series, Spider-Man 2099. With his sleek black and white costume and mysterious allure, Miguel had become her escape from the monotony of everyday life.

As she closed the front door behind her, (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. Another day at the office was over, and the weight of responsibility gradually lifted from her shoulders. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet apartment as she made her way to the bedroom, anticipation bubbling within her.

Finally, she stood before the poster, illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The image of Miguel O'Hara stared back at her, his confident smirk captivating her heart. The room was transformed into a sanctuary, a haven of fiction where reality momentarily faded away.

(Y/N) cherished these moments, basking in the imagined warmth of her "husband's" presence. She whispered secrets and dreams to the poster, seeking solace and understanding from an imaginary companion. Although she knew Miguel wasn't real, his portrayal in the comic series had resonated deeply with her, offering a sliver of hope amidst the mundane.

One fateful evening, as (Y/N) prepared for bed, a glimmer caught her eye through the window. A falling star streaked across the heavens, painting a trail of ethereal beauty across the night. Without hesitation, she found herself making the same wish countless others had before her, the words slipping from her lips with an intensity born of longing.

"Miguel O'Hara, please be real."

She watched the celestial display until the star disappeared into the horizon, its journey seemingly complete. Yet, little did (Y/N) know that her heartfelt wish had sparked a chain of events that would forever alter her life.

The following day began like any other, with (Y/N) immersing herself in the familiar routine of her professional life. As the hours slipped by, her mind occasionally drifted to the memory of the falling star and her wish. But as time went on, the magic of the moment waned, and doubts crept into her consciousness.

Weeks turned into months, and the memory of that night began to fade, buried under the burdens of reality. Yet, unbeknownst to (Y/N), forces were at work beyond her comprehension.

One evening, upon returning home, (Y/N) noticed an unusual package resting on her doorstep. Curiosity tinged with apprehension coursed through her veins as she picked it up. The box was unremarkable, devoid of any distinctive markings or labels. With trembling hands, she tore away the packaging, revealing its contents.

Her breath hitched as she stared at what lay before her—an advanced piece of technology, a device unlike anything she had ever seen. A note accompanied it, bearing a simple message:

"To (Y/N), from an admirer. Enjoy."

An enigmatic smile played upon (Y/N)'s lips as she held the device, her heart pounding with anticipation. It was an augmented reality visor, capable of projecting immersive holographic experiences. A gift that held the promise of transcending the boundaries between fantasy and reality.

Without hesitation, (Y/N) placed the visor upon her head, feeling a gentle hum as the world around her blurred into a realm of endless possibilities. A menu materialized before her eyes, showcasing various experiences to choose from.

And then, there it was—a simulation titled "Miguel O'Hara: Enter the 2099." Her heart skipped a beat as she selected the program, eager to explore a world where her beloved hero truly existed.

As the visor's holographic projections enveloped her, (Y/N) felt a surreal sense of belonging. She found herself standing in the futuristic streets of Nueva York, the cityscape stretching out before her. The sights and sounds were indistinguishable from reality, a testament to the technology's incredible capabilities.

And then, from the shadows, emerged Miguel O'Hara, the hero she had longed to meet. His presence was tangible, his voice resonating through her very being. For a moment, disbelief mingled with joy as she beheld the face of her cherished companion, finally real and standing before her.

But was this just a dream? A creation of her imagination brought to life by advanced technology? As (Y/N) engaged in conversation with Miguel, her doubts began to dissolve. There was a depth to his character, an authenticity that defied explanation. It felt as though fate itself had conspired to grant her wish.

Days turned into nights, and (Y/N) found herself spending more and more time in the augmented reality, forging a bond with the hero she had always yearned for. Together, they explored the futuristic world, fought against villains, and shared intimate moments of vulnerability.

Yet, as time went on, (Y/N) couldn't help but question the nature of their connection. Was her relationship with Miguel genuine, or was it merely an illusion, a projection of her deepest desires? In the midst of her internal struggle, she realized that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred beyond recognition.

Little did she know that this convergence of worlds was only the beginning of a journey that would test the limits of her beliefs, reshape her understanding of existence, and challenge the very fabric of her reality.

•••

In the immersive realm of the augmented reality visor, (Y/N) found herself standing amidst the bustling streets of Nueva York 2099. Buildings towered above her, their futuristic architecture reaching for the sky, while hovercars zipped through the air with a gentle hum. The air crackled with energy, creating an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation.

As (Y/N) navigated through the bustling crowds, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Miguel O'Hara approaching. Dressed in his iconic black and white costume, he exuded a mix of confidence and humility. His eyes held a glimmer of curiosity and intrigue as he met her gaze, his voice laced with warmth.

"Welcome to the future, (Y/N). It's a pleasure to have you here," Miguel greeted her, his voice resonating through the air.

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mingled with disbelief. This wasn't a mere simulation; it was an encounter with the embodiment of her dreams. She took a moment to collect herself, her voice trembling slightly as she responded, "Thank you, Miguel. It's an honor to meet you in person, well, sort of."

A knowing smile danced upon Miguel's lips as he extended his arm in a welcoming gesture. "Come, let's take a stroll through the city. There's so much I want to show you."

As they walked side by side, Miguel guided (Y/N) through the vibrant streets, sharing stories of his adventures and offering glimpses into the intricacies of life in the future. (Y/N) was captivated by his tales, her eyes wide with wonder as she absorbed every detail.

They paused near a holographic display showcasing the latest innovations in technology, Miguel pointing out various advancements and their impact on society. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as though they had known each other for years. The barrier between fiction and reality blurred, replaced by a profound connection.

(M/Y) couldn't help but express her amazement. "Miguel, everything here is incredible. It's like stepping into a dream come true."

Miguel chuckled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "That's the beauty of the future, (Y/N). It's filled with infinite possibilities, limited only by our imagination and determination."

As they continued their leisurely walk, (Y/N) couldn't help but ask the burning question that had lingered in her mind since the day she made her wish. "Miguel, I have to know. How is it that you're here, in this augmented reality? Are you really real?"

Miguel's expression softened, a flicker of contemplation crossing his face. "Reality is a complex concept, (Y/N). What you perceive as real depends on your perspective. In this realm, I am as real as you want me to be. My essence, my personality, it exists here, within this experience. Whether that translates to the physical world, well... that's a question we both grapple with."

(Y/N) absorbed his words, her mind swirling with a mix of fascination and uncertainty. She couldn't deny the profound connection she felt, but the lingering doubt about the true nature of their relationship troubled her.

"Miguel, do you think it's possible for dreams to become reality?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Miguel's eyes held a gentle understanding as he replied, "Dreams possess immense power, (Y/N). They fuel our aspirations, guide our actions, and shape our perception of the world. Whether they can manifest in the physical realm is a question that defies simple answers. Sometimes, dreams inspire us to push the boundaries of what's possible, while at other times, they serve as reminders of our desires and unfulfilled wishes. What matters most is how we embrace and pursue those dreams, allowing them to shape our lives in meaningful ways."

His words resonated deeply with (Y/N), stirring a sense of purpose within her. She realized that the encounter with Miguel, be it in this augmented reality or a creation of her imagination, had ignited a flame of inspiration and hope within her soul.

As the sun began to set on Nueva York 2099, casting a golden glow across the city, (Y/N) and Miguel found themselves standing on a rooftop, gazing out at the sprawling metropolis below. The hum of the city below mingled with their conversation, creating a symphony of sights and sounds.

Miguel turned to (Y/N) and spoke softly, his voice carrying a profound wisdom. "Remember, (Y/N), the power of your wishes and dreams lies within you. They are the sparks that ignite the fire of change and possibility. Embrace them, nurture them, and never be afraid to pursue the path they illuminate."

As the two continued to talk, their conversation meandering through a myriad of topics, (Y/N) realized that this encounter was more than a mere figment of her imagination. Whether Miguel existed in the physical world or not, the impact he had on her life and the inspiration she drew from their interactions were undeniably real.

As the night sky enveloped the city in darkness, (Y/N) and Miguel shared one last conversation before bidding each other farewell, their connection lingering in the air like an echo of their shared moments.

Walking away from the augmented reality visor, (Y/N) carried with her a renewed sense of purpose. Miguel O'Hara, whether a projection of her imagination or a manifestation of her deepest desires, had become more than just a dream. He had become a catalyst for her own growth and the pursuit of her dreams, a reminder that sometimes, the lines between fiction and reality blur in the most extraordinary ways.

And so, as (Y/N) ventured back into the world outside her apartment, she carried the memories of their conversations and the lessons learned. The journey had only just begun, and the path ahead, while uncertain, promised infinite possibilities.

[kathyprior4200]

Hazbin Hotel S1 E1: "Overture: The Story of Hell" Introduction

“Once upon a time, there was a glowing golden city protected by Golden Gates known as Heaven. God created the universe and remained in the background to see how His creations would learn and grow. Heaven was ruled by beings of pure light. Many were Seraphim and Ophanim hybrids, beings whose heads were golden flames, a large eye in the center, surrounded by spinning wheels with eyes on them. They wore white robes and had six large white wings with more eyes on them. Some were smaller and some were larger. These beings worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Many theorized that Sera, a Seraphim woman, protected the universe from a chaotic dark being with red eyes that may have been called Roo. Sera had a younger sister, Emily, who desired peace, music, and love for everyone.

Lucifer was one of these powerful, six-winged angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. He would sing incredible songs, and conjure vibrant fireworks and confetti with his magic. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the Elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. They considered his ideas and creations “too loud,” “too wild,” “too materially focused.” So Lucifer somberly watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. Sera, the Seraphim leader, helped create Earth and approved the idea to create a new race: mankind. From the dust of the Earth, the angels created the first man, Adam, and the first woman, Lilith in the Garden of Eden. Earth was intended to be a beautiful paradise where the animals, plants, and humans lived in harmony. Adam and Lilith were created as equals, the first of mankind. Adam was strong, beautiful, and blonde, as was Lilith, with her golden blond hair, reaching past her curvy waist.

But despite this, Adam demanded control, dominance in intercourse and daily life. Lilith refused to submit to his will, and she fled the Garden. Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Lucifer comforted her as she sat with her head in her hands. He held her hands in his. Lucifer knew that Lilith was supposed to stay with Adam, but he was captivated by her stunning beauty and personality. He saw himself in her: an individual stuck in a limiting environment where creativity and autonomy were disregarded. Lucifer and Lilith wished to share the magic of Free Will with humanity. Eve, Adam’s second wife, sat next to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Lucifer, in serpent form, slid down from the branches and materialized in his angel form to Eve, Lilith standing faithfully by his side. The two of them told Eve about the freedom and knowledge she could obtain from eating the glowing red alluring apples from the tree.

Little did they know that the tree of opposites was connected to a dark mysterious being of chaos. It was warned that the Tree of Knowledge was dangerous, for free will had both its good and bad aspects to it. The Tree of Life, in contrast, was purely divine and neutral. Lucifer offered the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted. Eve, too, grew tired of Adam’s dominating ways. She ate the glowing red fruit. (You will notice that in this version, Adam did not eat the fruit, therefore he was pardoned by God and Heaven. To further protect Heaven and ensure order, God granted Adam his angelic powers after his earthly death.) The gift of free will came with a curse. With this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth.

What was this kind of evil? Black eldritch tendrils formed a clawed hand that grasped the new planet Earth. The primordial Roo-t force that counteracted the divine light of Sera and God and the beings of light and order. While God desired creation, the opposing force Roo craved destruction. Love manifested as kindness, forgiveness, family, understanding, and creativity, among many other things. Sin manifested itself as rape, murder, lust, and a misuse of human choice in general. The more the angels and demons fought, the stronger Roo became. Eve had opened up a Pandora’s box of knowledge, unknowingly allowing the force to break free from its root prison. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin was born; covered with red eyes, a realm that would eventually become Hell. The order that Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. Earth had a metaphorical deep crack that tore through it, sending Sera and the angels reeling back in shock.

Eve, Lucifer, and Lilith, of course, did not know of the hidden evil inside the Tree, for they were only focused on the good that could come of out the knowledge of free will. (Why God had no guards to protect the Tree, no one knows). As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created. (Notice that in this version, Lucifer and Lilith fell at the same time. Lucifer did not appear to hate humanity as an angel, nor appeared to be jealous that God favored them over the angels. What of the rebel angels and God’s angels fighting? What of Michael? Perhaps more will be known.) Soon, Lucifer was unable to see the good that came from humanity…only the wicked. Humanity grew more into sin, the more that they had forgotten about God…and the more Roo’s power spread. Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream, instead manifesting his powers to create his own circus-like kingdom in Hell. For if he could not help humanity, he could at least rule over the former humans who had died, allowing them to sin how they wished, despite their suffering. Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

As for Eve? No one really knows what became of her. She may have been left to die on Earth. She may have fallen to Hell, waiting for a chance to help humanity and make amends.

Or perhaps…she had been corrupted by the primordial force itself, becoming a vessel for the feminine Roo to enact her dark destructive desires. The universe itself was being tugged at by powerful legends: one man-turned angel who wanted perfection, one sinister force who wanted destruction, one woman-turned demon queen who wanted freedom, one fallen angel who wanted creation, and one innocent woman hopelessly caught in the middle.

While Lucifer and Eve felt lost, Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and her songs, and as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.

Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. Even Sera herself, somberly agreed to this, for she felt there was no other choice. The evil had spread to Earth, so why couldn’t it eventually reach Heaven? For the angels, sinners and demons in Hell were already assumed to be corrupted forever by the dark force. So every year, Adam, now the Exorcist general, would send down an army, an extermination to ensure that Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. Lucifer himself agreed to this, for by allowing the exterminations to occur, the royal family was spared from their attacks. The first man was slaughtering his own descendants, cocky of his elevated status. But Lilith’s hope remained…and her dream was passed down to their precious daughter, Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of Hell.

Charlie, heartbroken by the recent extermination of her people, vowed she would do something to change things. Lilith’s fiery power flowed through her daughter’s veins, yet Lucifer’s angelic dreamy nature was also passed down to Charlie. In essence, Charlie was both demon and angel, a subtle symbol of hope and unity of the two afterlife realms. With the help of her girlfriend Vaggie and her goat guards Razzle and Dazzle, she pitched her idea to Hell’s 666 News Station. Charlie’s dream was to create a rehabilitation hotel called “The Happy Hotel,” a safe refuge where sinners could find friendships and work on healing themselves of their sins. With more ex-human sinners being redeemed, they could potentially go to Heaven and be reunited with their “winner” former human family counterparts. Heaven would gain more denizens, thus Hell would also be cured of the over-population problem. Carmilla Carmine was a woman who made and sold angelic weapons to demons, weapons that could kill anyone, even angels themselves.

The news anchors, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, mocked Charlie’s idea, claiming that no one in Hell would think twice about becoming a better person. Charlie’s song was disregarded, too. A spider demon, Angel Dust, soon arrived at the old hotel building, after helping his partner in crime, Cherri Bomb fight a serpent inventor called Sir Pentious. Burdened by drugs and his pimp boss, Valentino, Angel Dust accepted the offer to help Charlie in exchange for free room and board. It wasn’t long before Charlie’s mother sent a powerful demon to protect Charlie, Alastor the Radio Demon. He agreed to help Charlie start her hotel…if only to manifest his own chaos along the way. Lilith had vanished for seven years, working to create a rebellion against the angels. She and Lucifer knew of the dangers of trying to convince the angels to redeem sinners: they feared Charlie would be hurt just as they once were hurt by Heaven. But at the same time, they admired Charlie’s determination to dream…but thought she wasn’t ready to know the whole story.

More individuals arrived and stayed at the hotel: Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, the hyper cyclops maid Niffty, and the gambling bartender cat demon Husk. Later characters would include Baxter the fish scientist, Alastor’s flapper friends Mimzy and Rosie, among others. Thanks to Alastor, the Happy Hotel was changed to the Hazbin Hotel.

But there were more villains besides Adam, and his right-hand woman, Lute. Many Overlords ruled Hell, exerting their authority over businesses and souls in Hell. The Three villainous Vs were powerful former humans who worked together to dominate Pentagram City: Vox the hypnotizing TV demon, Valentino, owner of Porn Studios and Velvet, the demon of social media. They wanted nothing more than to kill the angel invaders, brainwash their subjects, and make Charlie’s redemption plan fail. For the more people they could get under their control, the more power they could keep.

In a complex universe where good and evil breeds in every realm, Charlie must gather the courage to stand up for what’s right, allow her companions to grow on their own, and use her magical musical powers to help heal the rifts caused by centuries of chaotic confusion.

The large red book closed, the words “The Story of Hell” shining in gold letters on the cover. Charlie gripped the black Sinner’s Key, after it hovered above her hand, a gold aura around it.

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make you proud.”

The Hazbin Hotel is now open! Enjoy your stay!

[impala-dreamer]

Captive Audience

A Story from The Boys Universe

~Y/N gets invited to a party but fails to realize that she's the favor...~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader

1,700 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sex and Drug Use. 18+ ONLY

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo . "Lick it and find out." Please show some love and reblog. Reblogs are important!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Green. Green. Green. Everything about him reminded her of a forest. A deep, dark, mist-covered wood that should have scared her, but managed to ensnare her every single time.

Dark green eyes like the leaves; body solid and long like a tree trunk.

Looming over the table, he cast a shadow across her nakedness, blocking the light and noise from the party raging beyond the swinging kitchen door. It was loud, obnoxiously so, flooding the big house with new wave rock and roll and the unmistakable sounds of ecstasy cresting.

But none of that mattered.

There was nothing in her eyes but him, nothing on her mind but the delicious nervousness of wondering what he’d do to her next.

Ben had tied her up good, wrapping prickly kitchen twine tight around her wrists and forcing them above her head. They dangled off the end of the wooden slab and he had attached the rope ends to the closest table leg, keeping her stuck there in place. Her arms ached already, but she was happy to be on display for him.

Blunt nails dragged up her bare legs and dipped between her thighs. He pulled away with a grin.

“Nice an’ juicy. I like that.”

His voice was slow and certain, not a hint of flirtation lingering in his tone. He didn’t need to charm her anymore, she was already right where he wanted her and there was truly no escape.

Not that she’d try anyhow.

The table was cold but warming to her body heat more and more every moment. Her top was warming as well, both from his hands and his gaze. His eyes were like laser beams working their way up and over every curve of her form, and she wondered if x-ray vision wasn’t one of his powers. Patience surely wasn’t one, as he reached for her tits, callously closing his big hands around each globe and kneading almost too roughly. She hissed at the touch and moaned when his thumbs grazed over her nipples.

“Fuck…”

She whimpered. He grinned.

“Oh, you’re gonna be a blast, arentcha?”

Pleasure sparked through her system as his nails dug like pinpricks into the dusky shadow around her nipples and she chewed her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered when he twisted; her breath caught when he tugged.

“K-keep going and find out, soldier,” she teased, hoping to earn another hard twist.

He obliged and her back arched off the table.

“God!”

Ben chuckled under his breath. “If I had a nickel for every time a broad called me that, I’d be… well, I’m already rich, so...”

Y/N shivered when he pulled back. “Rich, handsome, kind of a jerk- what else you got?”

Amused by her flirtatious bite, he stood back and dug into his pocket.

“Got some party favors,” he replied, pulling out a small baggie full of white powder.

“Thanks…” Y/N licked her lips. “I’d love some.”

He laughed and sucked his teeth. “Oh, this ain’t for you, dollface.” The plastic tickled her stomach, but he warned her through gritted teeth to hold still.

She held her breath too, just for good measure, and closed her eyes as Ben drew a line of cocaine down the center of her.

“This is new,” she whispered.

“It’s fuckin’ hot is what it is,” he corrected.

His breath was like steam on her flesh, the thick shadow on his cheeks beautifully distracting.

He bent over her and pressed his nose to her chest, breathing in the drugs and her scent from tit to clit.

Ben stood up with a jolt and wiped at the powder on his nose.

“Fuckin’ hell, that’s good shit!” He shook himself and his pupils dilated, eclipsing the green. The surge invigorated him and Ben dropped down again, this time running his tongue down the length of her, following the pale trail the coke had left behind.

Her moan was loud and needy.

“Delicious.” He hummed against her soft skin; tongue lingering at the peak of her cunt. “Does your cunt taste as good?”

Vibrant eyes flashed upwards and Y/N melted, spreading her legs for him.

“Why don’t you lick it and find out?”

He cocked an eyebrow and then grabbed at her, strong fingers peeling her thighs apart even further. The skin burned under his touch, bruises readied themselves to spring up once the pressure was gone.

Y/N sucked in a heavy anticipatory breath as he exhaled against her folds. She was soaked already, throbbing just imagining the feeling of his lips on her cunt.

She didn’t have to imagine for long.

Ben kissed her clit.

She gasped.

He dragged his tongue down her slit.

She whimpered.

He jabbed two thick fingers into her.

She nearly screamed.

“Don’t be shy,” he urged, curling his digits deep inside. “Ain’t a real party if no one can hear you having fun.”

Y/N’s arms twisted against the ropes, desperate to drop a hand to his head and tug on the gorgeous tawny locks. “I’ll be sure to keep that in- holy fuck!”

Mid-sentence, Ben jerked forward with his mouth and bounced his tongue against her clit, sending sparks through her system. He licked fast and hard, almost to the point of hurting her, but he held back just enough to make it worth every ache.

Right at the brink, he pulled away. He gazed down with a smirk on his plump, ruddy lips and laughed.

“You seem stressed…”

Y/N thrashed on the hard table, denied and pitiful. “Frustrated is more like it.”

He winked.

The bastard winked at her, knowing full well how close she’d been and how bad she wanted it.

With a seeming snap of his fingers, he was naked next to her, clothing tossed haphazardly onto the floor by the door. His shoulders were huge, arms like thick branches, chest hard and twitching with every movement. His cock already hard and hanging down on his left thigh. Y/N’s eyes shot to it instantly and Ben puckered his lips, enjoying her lustful stare.

He wiped her juices from his face and rubbed them on his cock before stroking slowly. “You like that?”

She nodded. “Mmm, I do.”

His fist bobbed over the tip. “How much? Tell me.”

Y/N wriggled, stuck and hungry for him. “Love it so much. Fuck, your cock is so perfect. I need it…”

“Yeah?” He picked up speed; his upper lip twitched.

“Please… I need your cock so fucking bad.”

Teeth bared, he breathed deeply; chest heaving and biceps flexing as he jerked off in front of her. He put on a show; stepping up on his toes and arching his back as he thrust into his hand. He was crazed and wild-eyed; preening like a porn star. He always loved a captive audience.

Y/N was near to drooling; every bit of her wet and desperate for him. She squirmed and pouted, begging with everything she had.

“Please, fuck me, Ben. Please!”

“You need it bad, don’t you, doll?”

Y/N rolled her hips against the air. “Please!”

Ben licked his lips and looked her over. “So many choices…” Finally, he moved to the head of the table and pressed his legs against the edge. His cock dangled aside her face and he looked down, face glazed with authority and thirst. “Open up.”

Her jaw dropped immediately and her tongue shot out, reaching for his swollen head.

Instead of a gentle slide inside, Y/N earned a hard slap against her cheek. His cock was solid and smooth. The hit stung. She winced and it came again, another quick hit, this time against her lips. Y/N pushed her tongue out as far as she could and Ben rubbed his cock over it, tapping a few times before jabbing into her mouth.

He hit the back of her throat and Y/N swallowed down a retching gag.

He was big and unrelenting.

“Fuck, you take my cock so good… Knew you would. Fuck!”

Her neck was twisted, throat full and struggling. Her breath was quick and her body shivered. Every thrust rolled her eyes deep’ every pull back left with a tight pop of her cheeks.

Ben was vibrating, fucking her throat deep and hard. He sneered as she sucked; head tossed back and eyes glazed.

“So fucking good!”

When he could feel it surge, he jerked away from her mouth and climbed onto the table, straddling her hips. She tugged at the ropes, wiggled beneath him, but there was no release for her in either way.

Bending close, he squeezed her tits, thumbed at her nipples again. Y/N moaned loudly, screamed when he bit down hard on her right tit. His teeth dented the flesh, nearly breaking the skin. He licked it clean and sat back, fisting his cock once more.

“You want this?” he asked, jaw set tight, eyes narrowed on her lips and the longing in her eyes.

“Yes, please!” She gasped, body aching badly.

He sat back, crushing her thighs. “You want all this? You want my cum?”

Unconsciously, her mouth hung open again. “Please!”

His lip trembled, his wrist quickened.

He came with a roar that echoed in her bones.

“Fuck!” Ben doubled over and sprayed her stomach with his hot cum. He rocked into his fist again, shooting another quick load that landed on her chest.

He grinned and took a beat, breathing deeply, laughing with satisfaction.

“You…” He wagged a finger at her. “You’re a fantastic piece of ass.”

He was gone before she could reply, hopping down from the table and scooping up his clothing from the floor.

She watched him dress, lying helplessly on the table, still bound and painted in his cum.

“But…”

Y/N whimpered and he spun around, seemingly remembering she was there.

“Oh, yeah…”

Ben came close and pressed his lips to her ear. She held her breath, waiting for a kiss that never came. He exhaled against her throat and left her with a few words that sizzled in her brain, forever rattling around and reminding her that he was not one to take home to mama.

“Thanks for the fun.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05  

[luminous-jinx]

HUH?! ANOTHER CHAPTER ON THE SAME DAY?! AND THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE PROLOGUE AT THAT?!

Chapter 5 of "Dreamer of Music: Prologue" the last chapter!

Here is a taste of it:

Mixed POV

As Eralin entered the training area, a sense of disappointment lingered within her, evident in the way she rubbed her neck. Her last mission had been a few days ago, a solo endeavor tasked to her by Felassan. The objective seemed straightforward enough: disrupt the transport of slaves, eliminating the guards and guiding the captives to safety. Yet, an unexpected turn of events had occurred when one of the guards managed to catch her off guard, grabbing her mask and tearing her head covering along with it, exposing her face. It was a breach of her anonymity, a risk she couldn't afford. Determined to ensure no witnesses remained, she swiftly dispatched the guards before completing her mission and returning to Solas' estate.

Sighing deeply, Eralin fought against the urge to dwell on her lapse in caution. She had successfully completed the task at hand, but the close call served as a stark reminder of the dangers inherent in her line of work. Casting her gaze upwards, she pondered her current circumstances and how drastically they had changed since her liberation.

It had been a couple of years since Eralin's release from imprisonment, and she was eager to immerse herself in learning and self-improvement. While Solas had encouraged her thirst for knowledge, he had also emphasized the importance of rest and adjustment to her newfound freedom in the beginning. "It's not to discourage you, but rather for your own well-being," he had advised, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “However, you're welcome to explore and use any facilities available to you during this time. If you decide to leave instead, please inform me so that I know it's your choice." With a slight smirk and a bow, Solas had left her to her own devices, his hands clasped behind his back as he disappeared from view.

“ I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then, he was being kind of an ass, ” Eralin giggled at her thought. 

"You just thought something insulting again, didn’t you," Solas observed, his tone more statement than question, while he stood before her in the training area. His attire was simple yet elegant, a green tunic with gold trimming paired with gray trousers and leather wrappings around his feet. Positioned opposite her, he held his staff with a relaxed yet authoritative air, his stance conveying a sense of readiness.

Eralin met his gaze with a smile that held a hint of mischief, her eyes glinting with playful defiance as she readied her scythe, its blade retracted. "I’m unsure as to what you mean," she replied, her tone sweet yet tinged with sarcasm, while she prepared for their sparring session. "I would never do such a thing, Hahren ."

A small chuckle escaped Solas, shaking his head, the corners of his lips quirking upward in amusement. Despite their banter, he couldn't help but appreciate her spirit. She remained as captivating as ever, her silver-white hair intricately braided and pinned into a bun, her attire practical yet stylish—a light blue tunic accentuated by a black belt and trousers, with daggers strapped to her thighs. Her footwear, a creation of her own design made with hardened cotton, keeping her feet warm while also creating friction on the ground; it spoke of her resourcefulness and attention to detail.

Solas relished their sparring sessions, observing with pride as Eralin grew stronger with each passing day. She wielded her abilities with precision and ingenuity, harnessing the power of her magic in ways that impressed even him. He had helped her uncover the connection between her music and her magic, realizing that her melodies could amplify her spells to a remarkable degree. The soldiers under his command had bestowed upon her the moniker of "The Reaping Song," a fitting tribute to the haunting harmony of her music and the deadly efficiency of her scythe during battle.

As they prepared to spar once more, Solas couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Eralin had yet to best him in combat, though she had come remarkably close on several occasions. He secretly hoped that today would be the day she finally succeeded. Chuckling, he raised his staff, his demeanor relaxed yet focused.

"Let us begin, and see if today is the day you finally best me," he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes. Erecting a barrier around them both, he ensured that their spar would be safe yet challenging. "Expect some bruises, but nothing serious."

Eralin assumed her stance, her movements fluid and deliberate, she prepared to face him. Her expression remained neutral, a testament to her discipline and focus. Solas couldn't help but admire her ability to conceal her thoughts, recognizing the value of such skill in their line of work.

"She's mastered the art of concealing her thoughts, " Solas mused silently, a note of pride evident.

Then she was off; Eralin quickly took a step forward with the right leg, then spun and directed her staff towards him, unleashing a chain of lightning. Solas quickly side stepped, dodging out of the way of it, however, he soon realized that it was merely a diversion; Eralin had deftly fade-stepped to his other side, launching a swift strike with her staff. Solas raised his staff in defense, absorbing the impact of the blow and staggering back several feet under its force. Glancing up, he caught a fleeting smirk on Eralin's face before her expression returned to its usual neutral facade.

Refusing to remain passive, Solas sprang into action, twirling his staff with practiced skill. Swiftly moving, he cast an inferno spell around Eralin, aiming to catch her off guard. She managed to evade the flames at the last moment, rolling away to safety just as her foot narrowly avoided being singed.

For a brief interval, the two exchanged spells in a flurry of magical prowess, their mana slowly dwindling with each passing moment. Eventually, they reached a stalemate, pausing to catch their breath amidst the intensity of their spar. Both of them stood motionless, their chests rising and falling with exertion.

Summoning her resolve, Eralin surged forward once more, launching a relentless assault with her scythe, the blade still hidden. Solas met her blows with calculated precision, matching her speed and strength, all while he retaliated with strikes of his own.

In a sudden move, Eralin tapped the bottom of her staff twice onto the ground before swiftly thrusting it towards Solas’ head. Solas instinctively dodged to the side, anticipating her next move. “ Fenedhis! ” He knew the pattern well from their countless sparring sessions. As expected, the blade of her scythe sprung out, catching him off guard as it came out on the side closest to him.

Realizing he was vulnerable, Solas attempted to evade the impending attack, but Eralin’s movements were too swift. She pulled the scythe downwards with all her strength, forcing Solas to duck forward to narrowly evade the deadly strike. However, before he could recover, Eralin released her grip on the scythe, allowing it to be thrown aside. Her timing impeccable, she swept Solas’ legs out from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground in a controlled sweep.

Solas hit the ground with a resounding thud, momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. He attempted to regain his footing, but before he could rise, Eralin was upon him. She swiftly mounted him, pinning him down with both daggers poised at his throat. Solas looked up at her, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickering in his eyes. "You have bested me, lethallan. You have finally won," he conceded with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender.

Read more at my Ao3!

Hope you enjoyed!

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Recovery

15x20

Aeryn POV 

Muse: Fine Line by Kapa Boy Instrumental 

Summery: Aeryn and the boys returned to the Bunker after rescuing her from the vampires.  

@squirrelnotsam @impala-dreamer @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @winchestergirl-13 @spnfanficpond

The Bunker was quiet. My nerves were shot, and I was expecting a vampire to come out of nowhere. My memory was fuzzy after seeing Dean and Sam before collapsing. I had stayed awake to watch over the teens that the vampires held captive. I lost track of the days after nearly three days. My powers had started to slip out of my control. The time over the vampires’ heads had gone from years when they first captured me to days. That had been my only solace, knowing that a rescue was coming. 

There was a fuzzy memory of arriving in the Bunker and being carried to my room. Someone, Dean most likely, had changed my clothes into a tank and sleeping shorts. I slipped into a deep sleep soon after. Hunger woke me. I hoped there was something in the kitchen that would be easy on my stomach.  

The lights were off save for the one over the stove. It was enough for me to be able to see. A soft noise carried on the air and my body tensed, ready to fight.  

“Aeryn?” Sam stood there in his gray tee and semi matching gray lounge pants.  

“Sam?” The tension melted away from my body. “What are you doing up?” 

“I should ask you that.” 

I gave an amused sound. “I got hungry.” I eased my way over to the fridge to be intercepted by Sam. 

“Come sit and I’ll get you something,” Sam said, half guiding me over to the table. “What do you want?” 

I didn’t fight Sam, still exhausted from the lack of sleep and food. “Something easy on the stomach. Water to drink.” 

My body half slumped onto the table once I sat. My mind started to drift off into that state of semi-unconsciousness where I could hear Sam moving around and could fall asleep.  

“When did you two know that I was in trouble?” I asked in an attempt to remain awake. 

“When you hadn’t checked in with us.  We followed your trail.”  

“And finding me in the barn?” 

Sam went quiet even as he continued to move about. I don’t recall doing anything to draw attention to the barn. 

“Sam, what is it?” I wanted to get up and walk over to him, but my body refused.  

“It was Cas.” 

My mind emptied of every thought. The last time I saw the angel, he had been taken by the Empty in the attempt to kill Billy. After he confessed his love to Dean. Dean hadn’t dealt with any of that and I had attempted to open a door to the Empty.  

“H...How?” 

Sam shrugged. “He didn’t say.”  He finished getting food out and started heating it up. “Cas did say he wanted to talk with you. When you’re ready to.” 

I stifled a yawn and leaned onto the table. “Maybe after more sleep.” 

“And this.” Sam put a bowl of soup in front of me. “Chicken noodle. And water.” He stepped away for a moment and returned with a piece of bread. “It’s not much...” 

“It’s the best meal I’ve had in four days.” I flashed a smile with a spoonful of the broth in my mouth. We sat there, I eased the soup into my body and Sam nursed his own glass of water. Part of me sensed he wanted to talk about what I went through on the case but did not push the issue. The soup had gone luke warm by the time I finished it. 

“Thanks for making the soup,” I said.  

“You’re …” Sam’s attention turned to the door.  

My gaze followed his to see Dean standing there in a black tee and boxers. I flashed him a weak smile. The tension in Dean’s body fell away as he walked into the kitchen. He walked over and rubbed my upper back. I leaned into the touch.  

“You okay?” Dean asked.  

“Yeah. I got hungry.” A yawn escaped. “Think I might try sleep a bit more.” 

“Come on, then.” 

“I got the dishes,” Sam said as he stood.  

I watched him move from the table before easing to my feet. Dean was a couple steps behind me, ready to catch me if I fell. I got a couple steps away from the table before feeling an arm wrap around my waist. I leaned into Dean as we made our way down the hall. For the moment, I was safe. 

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Augsnippets Day 5: Path of Comfort: Feverish Caretakinng

Still catching up on @augusnippets !

Day 5 this time.

Word count: 390 words.

Context: Takes place in the same universe my Day 2 snippet occurs. Sansa, the PoV character here, is a friend of Joanna.

Tagging @ba-bhump @dreamer-in-sleep and @starlightasteria

Sansa is sure that she has talked her throat hoarse by now. Yet, Joanna does not budge. Looking at the young man on the bed, his body trembling with fever chills, she feels a twinge of guilt for asking what she does. Guilt that is only made worse when Joanna tiredly shakes her head. “No, Sansa. I am not leaving him alone. I cannot. What if something happens when I slumber on? Once my son is on the road to recovery, I can sleep all I want.”

“Joanna,” tries Sansa, futile but earnest, “he would want you to rest.” In the admittedly frustrating conversation on both sides, they miss the slight movement on the bed.

Joanna, shaking her head out of habit by now, stops mid-motion at the quiet, hoarse voice that intercedes. “I do.” Joanna jerks her head towards him. “Jaime! Little lionknight, are you in pain?” “No,” he answers, his glazed gaze on his mother. “But the lady is right. You should sleep, mama.” “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart, you need your rest to heal.” He raises a brow, fever burning still in his eyes and on his skin, still held captive by the rigours of fever. His teeth chatter as well. “You look w-worse than I do. You sh-should sleep.” “I refuse to, as long as you need me, child.” “Then I shall refuse laudanum as well.” Joanna’s eyes widen. “Jaime! Do you even understand…” she trails off as the stump of his right arm reaches to her on instinct. “That is nothing compared to the pain I feel, knowing you suffer for my sake.” His voice bridges and breaks, tears shimmering in his eyes.

Joanna melts, she can see that on her face. “Have I ever refused you, my little lionknight? Sleep I shall, as you wish.” She smiles then, nudging him. “Move over. We have a shortage of beds and you are hogging this one all to yourself.”

Her son bows his head, moving over as she asks. “My apologies, Lady Duchess,” he winks at her.

As Joanna settles in, the brief surge of energy he had gives way to exhaustion, his head lolling on her shoulder. Joanna, still smiling, sets it comfortably on her shoulder, dropping a kiss on his messy blond hair.

Sansa smiles back, sitting back with a book on her lap.

[deanwinchesterswitch]

October 2023 Fic Rec List

It was an overwhelming month, but I did manage to sneak in a few moments here and there for some wonderful reading.

Enjoy

Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume; heed the warnings for each fic.

~Big Sky~

Welcome to the Neighborhood ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: The new interim Sheriff moves into the airstream across the way.  It started out just being neighborly.  But with an attractive neighbor like Beau Arlen…

~MCU~

Wildflowers At Sunset ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: Bucky uses an inopportune time to let you know how he feels about you.

~Supernatural~

Five-Finger Discount ~ @talltalesandbedtimestories. Author's Summary: It’s supposed to be a simple case. A little undercover. A little burglary. A little spell. Dash of salt and burn. No muss, no fuss. So, why the hell are you getting these uncontrollable thoughts about Dean’s… hands?

The Haircut ~ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior. Author's Summary: Y/N is trying to Dean a favor. How can he repay her?

Halloweenaversary ~ @thinkinghardhardlythinking. Author's Summary: Dean and Y/N spend their Halloweens together every year, but year, something is different

Heart of Stone ~ @jensengirl83. Author's Summary: None (Dean x Reader)

How Much Can I Take-Take it All ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: Part 2 to How Much Can I Take.  So much for a One Shot.

Louder ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Dean’s got you right where he wants you…

No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: (None; Dean Winchester)

No Title ~ @supernaturalfreewill. Author's Summary: (None; Drabble; Dean Winchester)

Underneath It All ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Jensen’s grown out his beard, hair, muscles for The Boys, and Y/N has some issues with all the extra hair. Luckily, together, they find a new kink that neither knew he had…

What Happens In Vegas Stays Doesn’t Always Stay in Vegas ~ @rizlowwritessortof. Author's Summary: Sam and Dean head to Vegas, this time for Halloween. Dean’s pumped about the huge Halloween costume party being held at their hotel, and he can’t wait to dress up as his favorite superhero.

The Winchesters Care About Your Titties!!! ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: Now that she’s gone to the exam.  They are pretending NOT to be waiting for her when she comes home.  

~On Patreon~

Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)

Captive Audience ~ Author's Summary: Y/N gets invited to a party but fails to realize that she's the favor... (Soldier Boy/Ben x F!Reader)

Eternal Charm ~ Author's Summary: Waking up next to your lover has never looked so hot. (Chris Evans x F!Reader)

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious ~ Author's Summary: Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...

Tourniquet-Chapter One and Two ~ Author's Series Summary: Y/N has been by Dean's side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment's peace.

Try It On ~ Author's Summary: Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...

thinkinghardhardlythinking

Someone To Watch Over Me-Parts 28-29 ~ Author’s Summary: (AU) Y/N is married to a very rich, decidedly unscrupulous and powerful man.  A man whose inability to trust means he hires someone to watch over his wife while he isn’t around. He hires Dean Winchester, a handsome stranger to Y/N, who is soon to become a very big part of her life.

[deepfriedhopesanddreams]

Okay let me explain a bit about the Lazy road au

1. Dreamers Den (Bumblebee) [or literally, Lazy road]

It takes place inside and outside of Bumblebee's head. Explore what happens to the other bots, while also learning what Bumblebee has been doing. He was at his edge and decided to stop the war at once by cramming everyone physically into his head, sure it works, but he got some issues as well. Now one year after that and he's still hanging on, trying to keep himself together.

But inside, a small group of bots are trying to find a way out. In Bumblebee's technicolor fantasy world will do whatever it takes to keep them in.

Bumblebee's section is called the "Escapism point". He's doing the best he can to delude himself in this false heroism... Luckily someone outside is going to stop him...

2. Test subject "Eve" (Shutter)

Follow Shutter (Test subject "Eve") as she was held captive inside of a facility, Taurus Tech facility. She'll slowly descend into madness and agony. But she'll learn something more than just horrible acts of crime... She'll learn about us... The readers... Somehow... But eventually she will manage to leave the facility and locate someone familiar...

There is a different version of this fic, but this one here is more definitive.

Shutter's section is called "Denial". She refuses to believe that she's doing everything wrong for a long time... But will soon understand that... She needs to stop denying her actions... Denying the readers...

3. Cermin Island (Rajair) [okay, I'm still working on a good name for this section]

Follow Rajair, a former vehicon, crashing on earth, in a small country called Brunei, and trying to find peace from the war. He arrived, familiarised himself with the locals, fought a "Genali" (mythical creature that looks like a snake), got himself so injured he passed out... But another vehicon brought him to Cermin Island to be repaired. Now over 900 years in stasis, Rajair wants to find that other vehicon.

But he'll soon realise that, there are bots who are lost on earth looking for energon. He brings them here and tries to convince them that everything is okay and we'll... Their species is totally dying... So he convinces the surviving bots, regardless if they're Autobots or Decepticons or any, accepts them all onto his new plan. They die peacefully on this planet. Yeah they don't really have anything else, not enough energon to bring them back home so... They're just waiting for death... But soon realise that... It's a lot harder than it sounds, they'll form bonds, and learn more of what happened to the "main bots" (the one's with Bumblebee)

Rajair's section is called "persistence". He'll keep trying to carry on no matter what. Finding that mysterious vehicon, and keeping everyone happy on the island to die in peace.

Yes, all of these sections take place inside the same au!