#He is my defense and my refuge

[aureentuluva70]

A beautiful retelling of the Birth of Christ that I really liked.

[helaintoloki]

Back to You

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mild language, pining, fluff

notes: my bucky and yelena brain rot is off the charts which is how this came about

summary: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

“I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Well, this is definitely more interesting than whatever I had planned today,” you respond jokingly as you finish stitching closed the gash on Bucky’s pectoral. “I will say, if I knew I’d be having company I probably would have tidied up a bit around here.”

Both yours and Bucky’s gazes turn to the group of beaten down misfits that occupy your living room at the mention of company. The amount of people taking refuge in your home made it appear almost comically small, but you weren’t exactly new to having to take care of super heroes- or in this case antiheroes- on a whim like this.

Before Thanos and the Blip, you had been a good friend of Steve’s. As his neighbor across the hall who also happened to be a nurse, he tended to treat your apartment like his own personal health clinic after a particularly grueling day of protecting the city. You welcomed him in without question of course, and after some time he had begun bringing friends in need of patch jobs with him. This was how you met Sam and Natasha, and eventually Bucky. You were enthralled by the turmoil swimming in his eyes and his reserved nature, and your gentleness and willingness to help a total stranger like him with no reservation had stuck with Bucky forever.

You lost touch with them all after the Sokovia Accords debacle and being turned into dust for five years, but once the work of the infinity stones had been reversed and you were able to attempt a life at normalcy, Bucky and Sam had returned right back to your doorstep.

In the years that passed, you and Bucky had been able to form a close friendship. It didn’t happen without growing pains throughout the process of course, and it took time for the super soldier to open himself up to you so intimately, but you’d been able to reach a point where Bucky could come to you for anything and vice versa. So when he’d called five minutes before his arrival asking to seek shelter in your modest home, you immediately agreed without question.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you inform him after smoothing out the bandage on his chest. Looking out to the rest of the group, you hold up your first aid kit and ask, “Anyone else need some TLC?”

You’re met with silence to which Bucky offers you a comforting pat on the shoulder before hopping off of your counter. The group looks more exhausted and defeated than anything, and he convinces you they’ll probably be fine.

“Well, in the meantime, would anyone like breakfast? I think I have some pancake mix around here somewhere,” you murmur absently, and this gets some heads to finally turn.

“Pancakes… would be nice,” Yelena offers with pursed lips and a shrug, trying to be inconspicuous as she obviously snoops through your things.

“Do you have eggs?” John voices tiredly. “I could really go for some scrambled eggs.”

“Eggs and pancakes… anything else?”

“I cannot have eggs without bacon,” Alexei notes thoughtfully only for Bucky to roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to cook all of that,” he tries to assure you only for you to shake your head in response.

“It’s really no problem, I’m just glad I went grocery shopping yesterday.”

You give Bucky a reassuring smile before disappearing into the kitchen, allowing him the chance to finally walk over and snatch the frame Yelena had been scrutinizing behind your back from her grasp.

“What are you doing?” He retorts in annoyance before setting it back down on the shelf. “We’re guests here, you can’t just touch all of her stuff.”

“She has a photo of my sister,” the blonde rebuffs defensively, “I have a right to touch it. Why does she have it?”

“Before she was my friend, she was Steve’s friend. He introduced her to Natasha, and they became friends too. Good friends.”

“Hmm,” she replies thoughtfully, finally easing up a bit as she takes in the information. “If Natasha considered her a friend, then I will too.”

“Yeah, I think she’s good on friends right now,” Bucky scoffs. Yelena raises a brow at his annoyance before a coy smile begins to form on her lips.

“Are you threatened by me, Barnes?” She prompts with a laugh, only doubling down when she notices the aggravated tick of his jaw. “Because it’s okay if you are, I understand. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, and I can see how much you love her-“

“Hold on a minute, what are you talking about?”

“Surely you cannot be this stupid,” Yelena affirms with a teasing smile that soon falls at Bucky’s flustered demeanor. “Or maybe you are.”

“I don’t love y/n,” Bucky says defensively, voice hushed to avoid any prying ears from listening to their conversation. “She’s just a good friend.”

“Well, if she’s just a good friend then you won’t mind if I go talk to her and tell her how much I love what she’s done with this place,” Yelena states plainly with a mischievous smile as she makes her way towards the kitchen only to be stopped by Bucky grabbing onto her arm.

“Don’t,” he warns with a scowl. From his spot on the couch, Alexei laughs.

“You are smart to stop her, Barnes,” he notes proudly, “my Yelena is quite the lady killer.”

“What’s the harm, Barnes? You obviously do not want to date this beautiful woman who has opened her home to us, so why can’t I?”

“If I admit I love her will you stop?” Bucky begs despite the clear aggravation in his tone. With her hands raised in surrender and lips pulled into a small frown, Yelena suspends her march towards the kitchen once Bucky finally relinquishes his hold on her arm. “Thank you.”

“Life is short, James. Do not let her sit and wait for you forever.”

Bucky lets out a long exhale through his nose at her words, and despite how much she annoys him, he knows she’s right. Bucky loves you and has always held a deep sense of admiration for the selfless woman who had taken him and Steve in without question despite the fact that it would get her into trouble with the government. You were one of the first to show him genuine kindness after spending years under Hydra’s thumb, and he’d never be able to forget that. You are his light in darkness, his saving grace, his confidant, and that’s why he’s so hesitant to fully bring you into his world by asking you to be his partner. Being friends keeps you at an arm’s length from the dangers of his life, but being the one he comes home to after a high stakes mission puts you in a whole new light to his enemies, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to put you through that just yet.

“Breakfast is on the table!” You call out from the kitchen, and Bucky watches with a wry grin as every person in the living room moves their aching bodies hastily into the dining room to get a chance at scoring some of your pancakes. You meet him shortly after and present him his own plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon to enjoy in peace away from the rest.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind so I figured you’d want to eat out here,” you explain with a careful smile before joining him on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know if these guys are up for this,” he admits almost dejectedly, casting a glance towards the dining room where the Thunderbolts sit loudly bickering over the syrup bottle.

“Hey, as long as they have you there with them, I think they’ll be okay,” you comfort reassuringly, reaching forward to give his arm a tender squeeze.

“I really doubt that, but thanks,” Bucky responds with a weak chuckle, “you keep me sane.”

“It’s my speciality.”

A comfortable silence washes over you then as you meet each other’s tender gazes and enjoy the rare moment of peace shared between you both. Bucky longs to just pull you into his arms and hold you, but he resists and instead returns to enjoying his breakfast.

“We’ll be out of your hair as soon as they’re done eating,” Bucky reassures you only for you to give him an indifferent shrug.

“That’s fine, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” You prompt with an innocent smile, catching poor Bucky off guard as he momentarily chokes on his pancakes.

“What?” He splutters, fist thumping on his chest to help the food go down.

“I mean, maybe I’m reading it all wrong, but I feel like sometimes you look at me like you want to kiss me,” you explain simply, “and I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“That obvious, huh?” He sighs with a bashful smile before setting his plate down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, well, that and also Yelena might have told me something on her way to the dining room,” you offer with an apologetic laugh.

“Oh, god, what did she say?”

“Something along the lines of if you never man up and decide to tell me how you feel that I should give her a call.”

“She’s a pain in my ass,” he grumbles irately, but his tone softens as he looks to you in remorse and continues, “but she’s right. You deserve to know how I feel about you.”

Smiling, you move closer to the super soldier so that you can curl into his side and rest your head upon his chest. His arms immediately come to wrap around your figure as he kisses the crown of your head, prompting you to let out a content sigh.

“We can figure out all the details when you get back from saving the world,” you assure him, “but just know that I love you, and I’ll be here waiting for you to come home.”

“Home,” Bucky sighs wistfully, already mourning your time together as he thinks about having to leave you behind. “I can promise you this- nothing is going to stop me from coming back to you.”

You look up to meet his tender gaze and are pleasantly surprised when he leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you savor the moment you’ve been longing for ever since you met Bucky, and by the way he kisses you as if you are the air he needs to breathe, you think it’s safe to assume he feels the same.

His heart is yours, and as you tenderly embrace from the comfort of your couch, you can rest assured that to Bucky, home is where you are.

[itsnesss]

𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | max, who always claimed to dislike public displays of affection, starts finding subtle excuses to touch you

warnings | fluff, light romance, implied public affection

word count | 1.1 k

🖇 more mv1 🖇 f1 masterlist

Max Verstappen always said that public displays of affection weren’t his thing. He said it with that serious face, almost impassive, that he mastered so well. The one he used in front of cameras, fans, and almost everyone. Except with you.

“It’s not my thing,” he had said once, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture when you saw Checo kiss his wife in the paddock. “I feel uncomfortable, I don’t like the attention. Besides, those things should be done in private.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t something that kept you up at night. You didn’t need him to hold your hand in front of everyone to know that he cared. Or at least that’s what you told yourself every time the days passed and his gestures remained cool. Polite, kind, but contained.

Until it wasn’t.

The transformation was so subtle that you didn’t even notice at first. Or maybe you didn’t want to notice. It all started with small gestures, easy to disguise. A touch on the back when no one was looking. A hand on your leg under the table. An excuse to touch you.

“You’ve got something in your hair,” he said one day, while sitting in the press room after a race.

Before you could ask, his hand was already tangled in your hair, pulling out a supposed misplaced strand. No one said anything. Neither did you.

“See?” he added, smiling as if it were nothing.

You blushed, not because the gesture was too obvious, but because you knew it wasn’t necessary. There was absolutely *nothing* in your hair. Just an excuse.

That was the beginning of the end.

Sometimes, it seemed like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Like that time in the hotel, after the team dinner, when you got off the elevator and said your feet hurt from walking too much.

“Really?” he asked with a crooked smile.

Before you could nod, he already had his arm around your shoulders. Almost as if it were second nature. Almost as if he always did it.

“Let me walk you to your room.”

You laughed, confused.

“Since when do you do this?”

He shrugged, not letting go of you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you knew exactly what you were talking about. Max Verstappen, the guy who preferred to keep his distance, who said he hated unnecessary contact, now seemed to find reasons to touch you all the time. And you, deep down, started to expect it.

The most obvious moment came in Monaco. It was mid-morning, and the atmosphere was the usual: chaotic, full of press, fans, and cameras. You were standing next to him while he talked to his engineer. You listened in silence, not wanting to interrupt.

A gust of wind swept between you, lifting a few papers, and without thinking, Max stretched his arm and pulled you toward him by the waist. He pressed you against him like he was afraid you might fly away.

“Everything okay?” he asked, almost without looking at you, his hand firmly on your side.

You could only nod.

“I’m fine.”

His engineer, thankfully, didn’t react. Neither did anyone else. But you felt the world stop for a second. And the worst part was that he didn’t pull away. He kept you close for the rest of the conversation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then came Silverstone.

The rain had wreaked havoc that weekend, and you were soaked, despite your raincoat. You ran through the downpour to reach his motorhome, seeking refuge. You entered without thinking, without knocking.

Max was sitting on the couch, hair tousled and a tired expression on his face. But when he saw you, he immediately stood up.

“Are you crazy?” he said, taking your hands to help you remove your soaked jacket. “You’re going to get sick.”

“It was just a little rain,” you replied, shivering.

He huffed, took off his dry jacket, and put it over you. Then, without thinking, he hugged you. It wasn’t a quick hug. It was long. Intimate. Warm.

“I don’t like you being like this,” he murmured into your hair.

“Like what?”

“Cold. Wet. Far away.”

That last part made you look up.

“I’m right here.”

“I know,” he whispered, and this time, he looked you in the eyes. “But sometimes I have to remind myself.”

Since that day, everything changed.

He no longer hid it. He no longer made excuses. He no longer said “I don’t like affection in public.” Instead, he’d say things like “you were cold, weren’t you?” while wrapping you in his jacket. Or “let me help you with that,” while taking your hand to cross through the crowd.

The press started to notice. Fans did too. The videos of “casual” moments between you two multiplied. Hands intertwined, shared glances, small stolen smiles.

But the confirmation came in Zandvoort.

Your favorite country. His favorite track. A sea of orange everywhere. Perfect chaos.

You were watching qualifying from the pit wall, biting your nails. He had had problems during practice. He was tense, focused, cold. Or so you thought.

When the session ended, Max had taken pole. And the first thing he did when he got out of the car, even before speaking to the media, was to look for you with his eyes.

And when he found you… he ran toward you.

Without hesitation. Without looking around. Without caring about the cameras. He lifted you in a hug that took your breath away.

“You did it,” you whispered, tears in your eyes.

“You too,” he said, kissing your forehead, your hair, your lips.

And then, in the middle of thousands of people, cameras, and noise, Max Verstappen —the same one who said he was allergic to romance— kissed you as if the world didn’t matter.

And it didn’t.

That night, in the hotel room, while you watched the race replay, he appeared behind you with a tired but honest smile. He lay down next to you on the bed, resting his head on your lap.

“You know?” he murmured. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not good at this. Not like other drivers. I’m not tender, or romantic, or…”

“You don’t have to be like anyone else,” you interrupted. “I like you as you are. Even when you make silly excuses to hug me.”

Max laughed softly.

“Excuses? Me? Never.”

“And the ‘you’ve got something in your hair’?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You had something,” he replied, kissing your hand. “Something I needed to touch.”

You looked at him in silence. He returned your gaze, softer than ever.

“I’m learning,” he confessed. “Not to be romantic. To be brave. With you.”

And in that moment, you knew it didn’t matter how “allergic” he claimed to be to romance.

Because with you, Max Verstappen was learning to love in his own way.

And that was more than enough.

[kaiwewi]

Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

[dollfacefantasy]

NOT A TOY! ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you and rick play around with the piece holstered to his belt

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, gun play (humping it), praise/degradation

wc: 1.4k

a/n: um sorry gang i wanted this to be longer but my brain wasn't working when i wrote it and it lowkey still is not 😔 based on this ask tho which i loved. i hope you guys like it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 22 - gun play

"You like this?" he asks, feigned disgust dripping from each syllable, "Dirty fuckin' girl."

"It feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

He chuckles at that, the sound coming out raspy and low. It's accompanied by the smirk on his face. The nearby light of the lantern makes his eyes look as though they're flickering with amusement at the position you're in.

The two of you were on watch for the night shift. While the sun set behind the tree line, you each climbed up into the tower that sat along the wall. Both of you started off focused on the task at hand. You kept your eyes forward, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble, walker or human.

But as had been the norm for your time in Alexandria so far, nothing happened. No staggering figures emerged from the woods, nor did any cars creep down the road. You sat in the two chairs perched up there and talked back and forth about different things. You vented about different people in the group, shared stories about your lives in the old world, just normal stuff.

As the hours stretched on, you grew tired and migrated into Rick's lap. He let you settle in against his chest, expecting you to rest there for the remaining time. But like it normally went for the two of you, being so close meant you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

It started with simple making out. Your lips moved with one anothers in slow, open-mouthed kisses. His hands swept over your figure, stopping every so often to grope at your thighs or hips. He spun you around on his lap after a while to get you situated in a position to ride him.

In doing so, he went to move his gun out of its holster. The cool wooden finish of the grip brushed over your thigh, and the sensation sent a visible shudder through your body. 

His brows had raised with curiosity. Testing the idea, he dragged the weapon up your leg, and you shivered again.

"Feel somethin' good, sweetheart?" he asked.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, timidity gleaming over the small spheres. You responded with a little nod, and that was how you ended up here. The gun lodged between your thighs, the smooth grip pressed right up against your damp panties. 

You rut on the weapon like a puppy in heat - back and forth, back and forth. You're not sure if it's the thrill of using something so inherently dangerous as an object of pleasure or just something about the even curve of it that has you even more whiny than usual.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, dragging the fabric of his shirt up between them. His free hand not keeping the gun secure holds your chin. You want to drop your head back so bad. Your eyes are already so droopy with lust. You want to just melt and let loose, but he keeps you locked in this moment with him.

"Look at you. So desperate. You'll rub up on anything if it gets you off, huh?" he whispers.

Your head bobbles in his grasp, nodding yes.

"Mhm. As long as it feels good you don't care," he tuts. He boosts one of his legs to knock you closer. You topple forward further into his chest and stay there, accepting the warm expanse as refuge from the stimulation down below.

"Not my fault," you whimper, "Just feels so good."

"I bet it does," he chuckles.

Carefully, he angles the firearm upwards a bit more, letting your clit bump on the end of the grip. A sharp whine shoots from your lips, so he knows it was the right move.

You don't worry about anything right now. In this moment, it's just you and him. There's nothing to think about but humping the object below you like your life depends on it. You don't even worry about your own speed or force or anything. If there's anyone in this world you'd trust to do this with, it's Rick.

Rick who's intensely familiar with guns from his years on the force before this. Rick who's piece stays attached to his hip at all times. Rick who looks at you like you're the most precious being on earth, but who also can't get enough of reminding you what a little slut you can be. He's the only one who gets you to this level of depravity.

"Harder, baby. I know you can do better than this," he teases near your ear. You feel his breath tickle your skin, the sensation sending chills all across your heated flesh.

You try to follow what he says and press yourself down with more force. The smooth handle slots between your folds. You whine as you feel the increase in pressure, so close against you the contact almost feels direct.

His hands around back knead your ass. He gives it a small smack, beckoning you to keep up the pace.

"Want you to make yourself cum all over it. Get it all messy for me," he breathes, "I know those cute little panties are already soaked."

Your eyes flit down as if you didn't know that. His gaze follows in suit, a small laugh coming out of him. The more you rut on top of him, the darker the wet patch on the front of the delicate garment becomes. The sticky fabric adds to the friction though, making your release approach faster.

"F-fuck," you whimper. Your body tightens up at the impending sensation. The edge is right there. You don't think you could stop now if you wanted to.

"That's right, sweetheart. Making me proud. You're actin' like the perfect whore for me. Keep it up," he mumbles, each word only spurring you on.

You keep bucking your hips. Your grasp on him tightens. Your chest puffs in smaller intervals as you feel yourself racing towards the finish line. When you finally crest the peak, your back arches. You let out a strangled cry. Your body continues to rock brokenly on top of the object.

He grabs your chin again and pulls your face from where it'd been smooshed against his chest. His fingers direct you upward, forcing you to look at him.

"Look in my eyes while you cum, darlin'. Look at who's making you feel this good," he says.

Your cheeks fill with heat at the intensity of his gaze. Despite your instinct to look away, you keep your pupils locked on his blue irises, taking in all of the desire swirling there. Everything hits you harder. You tremble even more as the thing between your legs continues bringing you pleasure.

He chuckles and  drops his hand from your face. Once you're beginning the downward slope, he rubs your back, soothing you through it.

"Good girl. Let it all out. I've got you," he murmurs.

He keeps a firm hold on you, ensuring you don't fall off his lap. You continue on shuddering and riding out the rest of the high, but soon enough your body begins to settle. It feels like you're melting down into his chest. Every part of you loosens. You let out a deep sigh. And your eyes flutter.

His hand slithers down between the two of you to carefully extract his gun from the junction of your legs. He slides it out, briefly admiring the small sheen coating it. You scoot closer to be further in his arms as you hear him set the weapon on the table beside you.

He holds you there for a moment, letting you calm down. It's dark out now. Everything's quiet except for the sound of your breathing. His fingers massage the nape of your neck while he looks out at the pitch black expanse outside the walls.

Even though his attention resides elsewhere for the moment, when you shift around, you feel his bulge nudging the plush underside of your thighs. Reaching down, your fingers toy with the button on his jeans.

That same smug expression from earlier returns to his face as his eyes find yours again.

"You want more already?" he teases.

"That was just the warm up. I want the real thing," you say with a tiny smile.

"The real thing, huh? Greedy girl," he tuts playfully. But he adjusts his position a little in a way that you know you're gonna get what you want. "Let's see if you can handle the real thing without waking everybody up."

[quiet-onset]

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 

[hedwig221b]

Do you by chance have BAMF Stiles recs? I'm reading your stories and all you rec so thank you for being awesome!!

Thank you so much! One wouldn't know by looking at my fics, but I absolutely adore BAMF!Stiles lol. He's a delight!

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek. Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

A Tangled Refuge by wanderingeyre

The Hale House has been rebuilt for the past five years and for all five of those years, it’s been a sanctuary for supernaturals that needed a place to stay, a halfway point, a place to recuperate, or a place to be safe from whatever was on their tail. Word traveled quickly in the small world of the supernatural and now they rarely had to seek out people who needed help. Most came to them.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up. When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.

Dangerous by jjmash

There are a lot of things that the pack doesn’t know about Stiles. Some of it is little things he simply has no reason to mention, like how he almost failed organic chemistry his first semester at Stanford. Some of it is bigger stuff that he just can’t bring himself to think about, like the nightmares that still plague most of his nights and trap him inside his own mind in increasingly horrific ways. But most importantly, the pack doesn’t know all the ways in which Stiles has transformed during his time away from them. He doesn’t need fangs and claws to be dangerous.

The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.

Something More Than Human by gatergirl79

Stiles Stilinski has a secret, a huge secret. A secret that will change the way everyone sees him. No, he hasn't been bitten by a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski is the product of a government experiment to create the perfect soldier, a human weapon. As a second generation transgenic, Stiles has been living a normal life with his dad in Beacon Hills, playing the role of klutzy sidekick to his werewolf best friend. All that changes however when Derek saves his life, Stiles finds himself slowly embracing who he really is. - But at what cost?

Red Witch by rootbeer

The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning. Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.

Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter

A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.

Now with part 2!

[masterpost link]

[joelslastofus]

Forbidden Distraction

Part 1

[SUMMARY: When someone from your past arrives to Jackson, Joel becomes protective over you, leading to a connection that he never expected to have with you.]

*this story takes place from season 2 episode 1*

Angst, smut, mentions of assault.

Joel knew what you wanted and maybe it wasn’t the best remedy but hell if it meant keeping you away from anyone near Jake he was ok with that.

“The hell is he doin’ here?” Joel stormed into the room Maria was in as she looked out the window.

“I take it you saw him too” she responded calmly as she turned to him with crossed arms.

“He can’t stay here”

“Unfortunately that’s not for you to decide and you know that.” He knew she was right, hell if it was all in his control he would’ve dragged him out with his bare hands. Sitting down in frustration he rubbed his temple just as Tommy walked in.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Jake. He came in with the refuges” Maria explained.

“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Tommy immediately became defensive knowing what happened.

“He’s got some damn nerve showin’ up back here.”

“Are you gonna tell her?” Joel sat at the desk looking up waiting for a response from Maria or Tommy.

“No. She doesn’t need to know he’s here yet, that’ll just throw her off” Maria responded.

“How the hell are ya gonna let him stay after what he did?”

“Joel-“ Tommy attempted to interject.

“She’s my sister, Joel. How the hell do you think I feel with him in here?”

“You’re part of the damn council, have him removed”

“It’s complicated” she shook her head. Joel stood silent, his hand balling into a fist on the desk as his eyes moved between the two of them.

“If he so much as looks her way-“ he brushed his hand over his lips with furrowed brows.

“I ain’t responsible for what happens after that.” Joel walked out of the room as Maria took a deep breath knowing damn well he meant what he said.

It was five years ago when you were attacked by Jake. Joel didn’t give a shit that ‘he was only 17’ when it happened, it seemed to be an excuse the rest of the council used to give him another chance. That and the fact that they didn’t know how bad the attack actually was. He didn’t deserve no second chance, no matter how much he begged for it. The only ones who knew how bad it was were Joel, his brother and of course your sister Maria and you preferred to keep it that way. The only reason Joel never killed Jake was because he got away and after all these years here he was, back in Jackson and you had no clue.

You were 22 now, for today you were put in charge of organizing patrol groups and so you went about your usual daily routine…but as you did, you noticed Joel looking at you strangely. You knew that look. He looked worried yet focused…but you couldn’t figure out why.

“Ellie, you’re with Dina today, please for the love of God listen to the one in charge of your group” you sighed before looking back at Joel from afar then back at Ellie.

“So are things better with you two now or-“

“Great” Ellie responded coldly.

“Give him a chance, he’s just worried about you,” you sighed as she walked off with Dina just as you were approached by a man you had never seen before.

“Hi” he looked down with a smile, amused by your confused expression. He must’ve come in with the refuges that morning.

“Hi, can I help you?” you spoke as you continued checking off a list in your book. Joel watched from afar as this man spoke to you, taking a step forward he realized this man was someone who had come in with Jake earlier. He didn’t know how close they were and he didn’t care, all he knew was that he knew him and that was enough to strike a nerve.

“Joel” Tommy approached him watching how he stared down the man talking to you.

“Who the hell is that?”

“That’s Kyle, he’s new here, been a great help-“

“He’s friends with that asshole” Tommy looked at Kyle strangely as Maria appeared beside him.

“Joel,” she spoke softly, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“I know your concerned but-“

“She’s gonna see him sooner or later and when she does, then what?”

“Then I will deal with that matter, she’s my sister. I can handle it” Maria assured him before walking off.

“Are you going tonight?” Kyle proceeded to ask you after introducing himself.

“New here and already know about tonight huh?”

“What can I say, I’m a guy that’s all about the fun” he grinned.

“So…are you going?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess am” you smiled, the guy was cute, flirting with his eyes, looking at you up and down.

“Well, I’ll see you then” he winked before walking off leaving butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in so long. Joel could see the excitement in your eyes, the excitement mixed with anxiety. After what happened, he would see you turn down any man around you. You didn’t trust anyone, of course you didn’t trust Kyle either but finally you decided to listen to your sister and try to be more open to others. It was something you had been struggling with for a while now but tonight you made a promise to yourself. No more holding yourself back.

That night Joel walked in to a scene he didn’t expect, clearly you had a little more to drink than you should have and you were dancing around with Kyle. Maria and Tommy watched as you laughed and danced, they watched you enjoy yourself for the first time in a long time. Joel’s shoulders were tense, his hands on his hips as he watched the way Kyle held you until the song finished.

“I know what you’re thinking” Maria whispered to Joel beside him as he silently watched you and Kyle together.

“Oh yeah what’s that?” Sarcasm in his tone.

“Look, Jake didn’t show up to this tonight so she still doesn’t know he’s here. She’s enjoying herself, she hasn’t in a while, just let her be. Unfortunately, this won’t last” but Joel was no longer paying attention to anything Maria had to say. Watching Kyle touch you aggressively, grab you and pull you towards him, there’s no way you could’ve been okay with that.

“Joel!” Maria called out just a moment too late as he charged in your direction and yanked Kyle to turn him around and face him.

“Hey, what the hells your problem man?!”

“Slow down with her” he spoke low, a warning in his tone.

“Joel it’s fine” you stood beside Kyle but Joel was lost only focusing on the man with his hands on you.

“You heard her she’s fine-“

“I mean it. Slow down.” Kyle laughed it off pulling you against his body only making Joel grab him by his collar.

“Joel!” The entire room staring at you, embarrassed you stormed out of the room as Tommy and Maria separated the two and held Kyle back.

“So fucking stupid” you muttered to yourself walking off in the cold when you heard the door open and shut behind you. The sound of Joel’s voice calling your name making you stop in your tracks and turn to him, ready to tell him off but when you did you noticed his entire demeanor change as he looked past you.

“Get back inside” he spoke low, God he hoped you wouldn’t turn around. He hoped you wouldn’t see who was behind you walking by.

“Why?”

“Get inside” he repeated himself but curiosity got the best of you and when you finally did turn, you felt as if your chest caved in. There was Jake walking by not even noticing you or Joel until he looked up and when he did, he stumbled backwards.

“H-hey, guys…I’m-I’m sorry- please don’t-“ he ran off not even finishing his sentence as you stood there in disbelief. Joel knew what this did to you, it was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Silently he walked up beside you and there it was, the same broken look in your eyes you had that night.

“Let’s get you inside, honey” he went to reach out to your arm but you shoved it away.

“No!” Anger taking over you, you felt at a loss not knowing what to do with yourself. The sight of Jake sobering you up quickly, reality felt different. You didn’t want to go back into the party, you didn’t want to go home, you began speeding off charging to God knows where.

Joel followed continuing to call out your name but you no longer heard him. Tears running down your face you stopped moving, looking around not knowing where the hell you were.

Joel could see the panic in your eyes, the rush of emotions you felt that he knew all too well.

“C’mere, let’s get cha inside” Joel’s voice a blur of noise in the background.

“We’re right next to my place, come on” he showed up beside you, very slowly he placed his hands on your arm and began to guide you to his home. Your emotions clouding your mind, you hadn’t even realized you were right in front of his house. It was as if you had no control of yourself in that moment, moving wherever he led you, he watched your step going up the stairs, being as careful as he could with you.

Closing the door behind him he turned to you to see you looking around the room in a panic.

“This ain’t how you were suppose to find out” you instantly froze, his words feeling like bucket of ice cold water being thrown at you.

“W-what do you mean? Wait.. you mean…my sister knew..?” He stood silent realizing what he just said only sending you into a bigger rage. All you wanted was a normal night, a normal hook up, normal fun for once. It was all you needed, it was all you craved. Blindly you walked towards the door until Joel caught you by your arm.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Back to Kyle”

“Woah woah woah, no ya don’t” his arm now completely blocking your chest, pulling you back.

“I just want to forget everything, Joel” you cried pushing past his arm but he wouldn’t let up. Of all men to give yourself too, he couldn’t let it be with him.

“You don’t understand” you whispered in tears looking up at him.

“Try me” his voice was low yet smooth. For a moment you stood calmly, staring into his big brown eyes and suddenly you did something you never expected to do. Desperate for a distraction, desperate for control, you took hold of Joel’s face and kissed him. He didn’t move, your lips on his, he stood in disbelief before slowly placing his hands on yours and gently pulling you away.

“I can’t” he whispered making you take a step back. Angrily you shoved your fists into his chest.

“So then let me go!” But he couldn’t have that, he couldn’t allow you to give yourself to a man that was friends with the man responsible for your trauma. Still, he could see the desperation you felt, eager to feel normal, eager to give in but he couldn’t let you make the mistake with him.

“Let go of me!”

Joel knew what you wanted and maybe it wasn’t the best remedy but hell if it meant keeping you away from anyone near Jake he was ok with that. Unexpectedly he grabbed your face and kissed you, stopping you in your tracks. Your words muffled by his kiss, he felt you soften up in his arms, you were no longer pushing him away. One hand moving into the crook of your neck, while the other pulled you closer against his body, he found himself getting just as lost in the moment as you were.

He knew it didn’t look right, he was suppose to look out for you, not…not this. But the more he kissed you the more excited he became. Wrapping your arms around him, the two of you stumbled running into the wall until you made it to his bedroom. Shaking off his jacket he threw it to the floor before slamming the bedroom door shut behind him. Joel seemed to be caught up by your touch, your smell, the sound you made as you felt his weight on top of you lying on his bed.

This was what you wanted, this was what you needed. Never in a million years did you expect this from Joel but in that very moment you didn’t care what was expected or not. You could feel him aroused between your legs, his hands digging into the mattress before he stopped. His hips aching to move against you, his lips parted from yours as he looked down at you hesitantly.

“Please, Joel…don’t stop now” he knew what he wanted to do next but his job was to keep you safe, not sleep with you.

“Please…” you thrusted upward against him, the sound of desperation in your voice, he quickly gave in. His large hands making it quick and easy to undress you and himself, you soon felt his warm skin against yours. You didn’t care how quickly he moved, it had been so long since you wanted to feel anything like this on your terms. You pulled him closer with your legs and that’s when you felt the tip of his manhood poking at your entrance. Joel’s breathing was heavy, his touch grew more hesitant as he realized exactly what he was doing, as he realized he himself hadn’t had this in quite some time.

“Are ya sure?” He whispered looking down at you, until you grabbed his face, focusing in on his eyes.

“Joel please…” and with just those two words Joel entered you with one hard thrust. You gasped loudly, your hand around his neck, your fingers grabbing onto his curls. He remained still allowing you to adjust to his size, already wet for him, only making it easier for him to slide in. His face now hidden in the crook of your neck, he couldn’t believe what he allowed himself to do, but he couldn’t stop now.

“Again” you whispered. And he did.

Joel did exactly what you wanted him to do but still, a part of him holding back knowing what he could do, knowing how rough he could unintentionally be.

“Yes..” you moaned feeling each thrust take over you. A grunt against your ear as he sped up the pace, your nails digging into his back just as he lifted his head up to see you lost in pleasure. Pleasure he was making you feel…pleasure you didn’t think you’d ever allow yourself to feel again.

“Joel?”

His eyes quickly founds yours like a deer caught in the headlights, ready for whatever you needed to say, even if it was to ask him to stop.

“I wanna get on my knees” you whispered breathlessly.

“Whatever you want, baby” his voice was deep, his eyes devouring you for one moment more before he pushed himself up and allowed you to turn around in position. His hands taking hold of your waist, you waited patiently until you felt him slide back in. A breath of relief as he filled you from a different angle and moved his hips in a rhythm that made you moan loudly.

“Pull my hair” you panted. He did just as you asked but you could feel him going easy on you although you wanted the complete opposite. You were tired of being treated like a fragile piece of glass that could break in any moment. You wanted Joel to take you the way he wanted.

“Joel…harder please” you begged but little did you know, Joel himself had a lot of pent up tension inside him that he needed released and you underestimated his strength. With one hard tug you screamed as he pulled your hair practically pulling your body back against him. Joel’s arms held you up against him as you grabbed onto his hand that wrapped around your waist, gasping for air. This was exactly what you wanted.

A rough sound coming from Joel’s throat as he sped up his thrusts against you. His lips against your ear as you whimpered, pleasure completely taking over both of your bodies. Joel was very quickly realizing he needed this as much as you did. The headboard slamming against the wall he was no longer holding back and he was about to cum. Losing complete control of himself he squeezed your body tightly against his as he thrusted one last time and when he did, he made a sound that made you melt. The sound of a man that had been aching for this for so long, he didn’t let you go feeling himself throb inside you. Turning back against him, he looked as if he was lost in a trance.

Joel lay beside you, thinking about what he had just done. This wasn’t how he was suppose to help you. A conflicted expression on his face, he felt you lay beside him and he felt you tremble, quickly he sat up turning towards you.

“You alright?” He whispered, his hand covering your waist. Oh Joel, no matter the situation he was always making sure you were ok.

“Perfect…” you smiled reaching up to caress his face.

“That was-“

“I wasn’t suppose to do that” he spoke low looking away.

“Which part?” You teased as you rolled out of bed, Joel’s eyes following your backside as you walked around the bed and proceeded to get yourself dressed.

“I’m serious” he stood up and began to dress himself.

“I think there’s uh, somethin’ I could get for ya at the pharmacy” he felt you turn to him and quickly looked away, slightly feeling ashamed with what he let himself do.

“Well, let’s head back before my sister wonders where I am” you walked out of the room as he followed.

“Wait a minute, we need to talk” he grabbed your arm turning you to him.

“About?”

“You need to tell the council what happened-“ your eyes instantly changed.

“Joel-“

“Ya need to tell them or he stays here and I can’t have him near you. Tell them the truth-“

“Stop! Just let me enjoy this! I don’t have to say anything to anyone!” You screamed as he silently stared down at you. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you but he hated that no one knew the truth.

“This is the most normal I’ve felt in years and you know what….I know you felt it too” you whispered looking up at him. And you were right, everything going on with Ellie, the feelings of uncertainty over powering him, this was the one he was certain felt good.

“Please, just let me have this” Joel watched as you walked out of his house and into the cold, he hated to admit it but he knew that you were right..

Tags: @moonpascal @katmoonz @joelsteinfeld @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @heartpatch @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @lonely-ey3s

@elliesr1fle @ro-nahime-things @southernbe @dendulinka6 @laliceee @just-mj-or-not @iamtoriasworld @katwriteshardy @gwend0lyne @lily-mylove @antobooh @sukivenue @keileighr

@readingiskeepingmegoing

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - January 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. Homes built with clay, grass, plastic and glass: How a Caribbean island is shying away from concrete

“[… Clay] traps moisture which then evaporates and pulls heat from the surface as it goes. […] The roof is covered in old recycled advertising banners and piece of a water tank, the other half of which is used to house some of Rahaman-Noronha's fish [… and] multi-coloured glass bottles inset into walls provide an avenue for streams of light and colour.”

2. To Combat Phoenix’s Extreme Heat, a New Program Provides Sustainable Shade

“The neighborhood workshops allow residents to get a shade plan tailored to their community’s needs and identify the locations where officials can plant trees. Meanwhile, the workforce-development side of the program creates the jobs needed to keep the trees alive for generations[….]”

3. Conservation corridors provide hope for Latin America’s felines

“[… S]cience has shown that to maintain healthy populations there needs to be connection between individuals. [… A] protected area that is close to another has more species and more potential for their survival.”

4. Social program cuts tuberculosis cases among Brazil's poorest by more than half

“The decrease [“in TB cases and deaths”] was over 50% in extremely poor people and more than 60% among the Indigenous populations. […] "We know that the program improves access to food [… and healthcare…] and strengthens people's immune defenses as a result.””

5. Geothermal has vast potential to meet the world’s power needs

“New geothermal systems could technically provide as much as 600 terawatts of carbon-free power capacity by 2050[…. C]ountries could cost-effectively deploy over 800 GW of geothermal power capacity using technology that’s in development today[….]”

6. New D.C. Catholic archbishop is pro-LGBTQ+ and anti-Trump

“In 2018, he objected to the blaming of gay priests for the clergy sexual abuse crisis, “saying that such abuse was a matter of power, not sexual orientation[….]” “We must disrupt those who portray refugees as enemies [… and] seek to rob our medical care, especially from the poor.””

7. Chesapeake Bay Will Gain New Wildlife Refuge

“The Chesapeake Bay area will have a new wildlife refuge for the first time in a quarter century. […] “This new refuge offers an opportunity to halt and even reverse biodiversity loss in this important place, and in a way that fully integrates and respects the leadership and rights of Indigenous peoples and local communities.””

8. Inside Svalbard seed vault’s critical mission to stop our favourite fruit and veg from going extinct

“[… T]he world’s largest secure seed storage […] sits proudly in a massive former coal mine[….] Right now, there are over 1,331,458 samples of 6,297 crop species. […] “During 2024, 61 seed genebanks deposited 64,331 seed samples, including 21 from institutes that deposited seeds for the first time this year[….]””

9. Medical debt will be erased from credit reports for all Americans under new federal rule

“The rule will affect more than 15 million Americans, raising their credit scores by an estimated average of 20 points. [… S]tates and localities have already utilized American Rescue Plan (ARP) funds to support the elimination of over $1 billion in medical debt for more than 700,000 Americans[….]”

10. 'Forgotten' water harvesting system transforms 'barren wasteland' into thriving farmland

“"The process started with the community-based participatory planning[….]” 10% to 15% of the water will actually soak into the ground to replenish the water table, creating a more sustainable agricultural process.”

December 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Erin Reed at Erin In The Morning:

On Tuesday, Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris announced that her pick for Vice President is Tim Walz, the governor of Minnesota. In recent years, as trans and queer people have come under attack from over a thousand proposed bills, Walz is expected to serve as a source of optimism for LGBTQ+ people. The governor’s long track record on LGBTQ+ rights positions him as a strong oppositional force against what has become a national attack on LGBTQ+ people, particularly transgender individuals.

“I am proud to announce that I've asked Tim Walz to be my running mate. As a governor, a coach, a teacher, and a veteran, he's delivered for working families like his. It's great to have him on the team. Now let’s get to work. Join us,” read Harris’ statement on Twitter. Walz has taken decisive action against attacks on transgender people in surrounding states, making Minnesota a refuge for those seeking care. In 2023, he signed an executive order protecting transgender people from out-of-state prosecution if they seek care within Minnesota’s borders. The executive order also issued a bulletin to health insurance companies, mandating coverage and initiating investigations into health insurance denials in the state.

In 2024, Walz signed a bill banning the gay and transgender panic defense. This defense is often used to help individuals avoid murder charges or receive lighter sentences by asserting that they were "deceived" by a romantic partner who was gay or transgender. According to one study, the transgender panic defense has been used at least 351 times. Walz's pro-LGBTQ+ record goes back much further than his time as governor. In 1999, he sponsored the first gay-straight alliance at his high school while working as a teacher. In Congress, he co-sponsored the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act and voted to repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz (D)’s track record on LGBTQ+ issues has been stellar, dating back to his pre-Congress days.

This makes me glad that he is the nominee.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (3)

Following Instincts

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,279

Work count for Story: 12,632

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Outside the break room, Yoongi is in Alpha space, catching your scent of sweet peas as it changes into a moldy pea soup smell after the comment from the redheaded playmate. Turning with a low and threatening growl, Yoongi’s eyes have gone to his hybrid's bright golden-yellow cat eyes as he blocks you from their sight. Zeroing in on the playmates, tail raised and puffed out, tip twitching back and forth with a snap of irritation, making them all step back and quiet down.

Hearing you murmur something in his native tongue and then the frantic footsteps, Yoongi snaps his head to watch your fleeing form disappear into a room down the hall. Taking a quick look back at the playmates, office staff, and then his pack, Yoongi huffs and quickly follows you, unable to fight his Alpha instincts.

The rest of the BTS packmates follow their bonded one closely behind as they feel his need to protect you from the others in the office. Namjoon catches Yoongi by the shoulder, stopping him from attempting to enter the room where you sought refuge. The rest of the pack forms a barricade around their Prime Alpha and packmate, who has entered Alpha space. They all are standing on guard, facing the rest of the people in the office, watching closely for any danger, and keeping the rude humans away. 

“Yoongi-hyung, you need to give her space. Remember, she is human and might get scared of Alpha Yoon. What is happening? I need you to get enough control to explain what is happening?” Namjoon calmly speaks to his older packmate. Pushing out calming scents, trying to bring him out of his Alpha space with soothing strokes along his shoulder and back. “Can you come back and explain why you are protecting Miss Y/n?”

Barreling into the front of the group of observers with his tail bushed out and scent smelling slightly panicked and concerned, Derek comes up to the defensive line of BTS, “You have to let me get to her. You have to let me help calm down Y/n. Can’t you scent her distress? She is not doing okay by herself. You can even smell her over the scent-blockers!  I am the closest thing she has to a family. Please let me in to make sure she is okay. Please.”

One of Yoongi’s black jaguar ears twitch back, hearing the urgency in Derek’s voice. He looks at Namjoon, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to Derek with normal dark eyes, taking in his shifty behaviors and now partly distressed scent. 

Shaking his head slowly to Namjoon, Yoongi steps between his packmates and face-to-face Derek. “You are the closest thing to her family?”

“Yes, she and I were hired together when they decided to start this branch. We work together and spend time together at my den or her apartment. I do my best to protect her from situations like this because of her past,” Derek shares with a furrowed brow. Then he glares at the snobby-faced Playmates and says, “I normally try to keep her away from the Playmates in general so things like this do not happen.” 

“She is only here today because there was no convincing her otherwise. Since in the meeting yesterday with your manager and what was said on the phone, she thought it would be disrespectful if she were not in attendance,” explains the fidgety hybrid.

Looking Yoongi in the eye, he continues, “She was bullied a lot before, and while it is not something that is okay, unfortunately, it still happens to this day. I really tried but I couldn’t do anything to keep her away. She had to be here even with little to no sleep because of her nightmares.”

Bowing slightly but keeping an eye on the pack, Derek demandingly pleads, “Now, please, Mr. Min, please let me pass. Everyone can smell that something has happened. I think she is hurt in more ways than one.”  

The last comment got the attention of the whole pack on him, and everyone looked concerned. Several eyes flashed as their hybrid halves showed their displeasure with the news. Yoongi continued to fight his Alpha instincts with a deep growl and even breaths.

“How can you tell?” Namjoon asks from next to the door. He can smell the scent left in as you ran through the hall, but it tells him nothing for a few reasons: 1. He has never smelt Y/n and 2. Not all scents are pleasant to start with.

“That moldy smell, like veggies gone bad?” inquired Derek, watching the pack of hybrids start sniffing, searching for the smell, and scrunching their noses once it hits. “That is why I know something is not right. Y/n, her scent turns like that when she is hurt. I am not sure if it is just emotional. It could be physical, too. I can’t tell how bad it is because the scent-blocking measures she took for your arrival are still dulling it down.  Now again. Let me in to help my friend. I may be a Beta but she is a pack member and I will protect her.”

“Fine, but I am going in with you. I was the one who knocked into her and failed to keep her from falling. My Alpha instincts have gone haywire, and I need to protect her,” his eyes glaring back at the playmates, “from certain people here. Most of all, ensuring she is okay and make amends for my mistake,” Yoongi states without room for argument, moving to the side, nodding to his packmates to make room for them.

Once the two are through, the pack retakes their defensive stance, keeping everyone else out. They understand where their mate is coming from as they also want to keep the group of Playmates away from you, their disgusting words looping through their heads.

Namjoon shuts the door for privacy and protection while he stands guard just outside, with one ear listening to what is happening inside the room and one ear on the rest of the office. His mind racing from the powerful wave of rotten scent that has built up in the room.

The scent-blocking measures no longer mask your distress and pain causing your scent is much more robust in this room. This makes Derek and Yoongi to whine at the smell and quickly move to your side.

Derek pulled you into a tight embrace, pushing his scent out and over you and scenting the top of your head while murmuring soft, reassuring words. Yoongi comforts you with his own calming scents, pushing down the desire to pry you out of Derek’s hold to take you into his own. Much to their relief, your tears slow, and your breathing calms after what feels like hours.

“Derek, my nightmares, they came true. I ruined everything. I should have stayed away like you and Evie said. I should have been looking where I was going. Reina was right. The one with the black tail, did I hurt him? He... He tried catching me. Me! I weigh a ton,” you ramble as your panic is still racing in your mind.

At that last comment, a deep growl resounds throughout the room. It takes half a second to realize it is not from the hybrid holding you. Catching your breath and snapping your mouth shut, you cautiously peek through your hair to look behind you to see none other than Mr. Min Yoongi, who turns out to be the owner of said black tail, now snapping to and fro with irritation. 

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, your mind racing to figure out a way to get out of this situation without causing any further damage and how best to word your resignation letter.

“Miss Y/n, let us address a few things. Firstly, you do NOT weigh a ton, nor will you ever refer to yourself in that manner again. Secondly, I am not injured, nor could you injure me, as I AM an Alpha in my own right and am stronger than I look, even if I am not the Prime Alpha of the Bangtan Pack,” declares the hybrid, his eyes flashing a different color.

You shrink down to try to make yourself smaller. Seeing your reaction and realizing that his Alpha is trying to be in control again, he takes another deep breath to calm himself, looking between you and Derek. He can almost hear his Alpha stomp around his head, demanding to get you out of the other hybrid’s arms and keep you as his.

After a few controlled breaths, Yoongi says, “Lastly, would you be so kind as to allow my Alpha to inspect you for injuries? I came out of the observation room door unannounced and ran into you. I tried to prevent you from falling, but we are close in height, and I could not do much other than take what I hoped was the brunt of the fall.”

Turning more towards him but still staying in the safety of Derek’s hold, you look at him with confusion. “Your Alpha? Like your hybrid-side is not yourself?” Looking over your shoulder at Derek, you see him with a smirk and a chuckle on his lips.

“Missy here,” Derek looks at Yoongi, “has never met an Alpha male before. I am a beta, and her best friend is an omega.” Turning his attention back to you, “Unlike Evie and I, an Alpha has an inner animal that they can change into fully at will and it allows them to go into Alpha space to assist in protecting, hunting, and mating.”

You look at Yoongi with wide eyes, “You turn into a black cat?” 

“I am not a black cat,” he huffs in annoyance, eyes flashing a different color briefly. “I am a Black Jaguar hybrid, and I am trying my best to keep him at bay because he can sense that your emotions have calmed down, but you are still in pain.” 

His eyes roam over your figure, stopping when he notices you are cradling your right wrist. Standing up and motioning to a nearby chair, he asks, “Please, can I inspect you for injuries? I can see you are being careful with your right hand.”

With a gentle push from behind you, you move to the chair Yoongi gestured to. Derek also stands up but keeps his distance, watching how the two of you interact.

Yoongi kneels before you, “I have to let my Alpha see for himself. I promise he will not harm you. Mr. Gulley can attest to that at this point, my Alpha would have much rather hurt himself than you.” 

Glancing at Derek, he nods with a knowing smile while taking a seat a few tables over, so as not to interfere. Taking a moment to collect yourself, running your good hand through your hair and fixing your shirt, you look down at the hybrid.

With a slight smirk, he looks at you with kind eyes, “Miss Y/n, please allow me to check for injuries. You have no reason to be nervous. You look perfect as you are.” 

Blushing slightly at his words, you nod and tuck your hair behind your ear again. You watch him closely as his dark brown eyes slowly change into a stunning golden-yellow color, with the pupil elongating into a pointed oval. His ears and tail moved this way and that, never quite settling in one position for very long. Your scent turns slightly back to sweet peas as the sight makes you smile softly. 

Cautiously, Yoongi kneels closer to you to become within reaching distance. Taking your left ankle gently in his hand, he rotates it, bends your leg at the knee, and sniffs at each joint. He repeats the process with the other side as well. Finding that nothing in your legs seems to be hurting, he looks at your face again with a short, pleased chirping sound. 

Scooting a little closer, he reaches out to your left hand, bends your elbow, feels along your fingers one by one, then rotates your wrist and again seems to sniff along the joints. 

You fidget in your seat, knowing what comes next will hurt, but you don't know how the hybrid in front of you will react. Noticing your movements and the slight change in your scent, Yoongi wraps his tail around your ankle to offer support. A slight sense of pride fills him when your scent calms down at his gesture of comfort, even if you do not realize it. 

Taking your right hand, he follows the same steps, pausing slightly before he rotates your wrist. You let out a yelp of pain and bite your bottom lip as you try to pull your hand out of his grip, which only causes him to hold it just a little bit tighter with one hand while the other quickly reaches to the nape of your neck to bring you into an awkward hug. Your head is now resting on his shoulder with your nose breathing against his neck, your good hand going to his side and gripping his shirt. 

Once the pain has dulled, you realize you smell the rain, not like fresh rain but like petrichor or the earth after a good downpour. It is comforting and relaxes you even more until you hear a soft chuffing noise and remember who you are smelling. 

Pulling away, you shyly look back at Yoongi, still observing you with golden-yellow eyes and holding your wrist firm but gently. “Umm... I think I just landed on it wrong. Just some ice and pain meds should be okay. I will be good as new tomorrow,” you say with a false smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.

However, Yoongi’s ears flatten, and his feline eyes narrow at you while nodding down to your wrist. Following his line of sight, you now see that your wrist is slightly swollen and is covered with a lovely purple color. “Okay, maybe I won’t be as good as new tomorrow.”

Derek stands up and approaches the two of you to see the damage done. Taking a sharp breath, he looked at Yoongi and froze, noting that the Alpha was sternly watching his every move. 

Outside the breakroom, Mr. Johnson, the director of PMS USA, was informed there was an incident and is now standing with Manager Sejin outside the BTS barrier. He had ordered Reina and the other playmates to be escorted back into the conference room by some other staff. 

To say the Playmates didn’t attempt to excuse away their behaviors or tell a specialized version of the story would be lying, and BTS’s reaction quickly caused them to shut up and hide in the room like they were told to in the beginning.

Mr. Johnson had hand-picked you to be the friendly first face of PMS because you light up any room you walk into and are always willing to put in the extra time to help make things perfect on or off the clock. 

“Hello, I am the director, I really should go in there and make sure my employee is okay, Manager Sejin,” Mr. Johnson states, glancing at the members of BTS as they continue to block the door and growl at anyone who walks near them. 

“Why are they not letting anyone near the door? I am sorry. I know about hybrids from the symposiums and conferences but rarely interact with many. I typically leave that up to my staff,” says the director, glancing over at the hamster hybrid.

“Namjoon-ssi, do you want me to answer that, or would you like to?” Manager Sejin asks while watching Mr. Johnson. Namjoon redirects his attention from the breakroom door to the seemingly incompetent human before him. 

Taking a few slow steps forward, Hoseok takes over guarding the entrance. Namjoon comes to stand with his pack, but nearer to Mr. Johnson and Manager Sejin, he says, “Mr. Johnson, we are a pack. More so, we are a pack of Alpha hybrids. Ranging from prey to predator types. We are a bonded pack on top of that, which means it’s all or none. We all are protective of something or someone if one of us feels the need. When one of us is hurt, we are all hurting with them.”

Looking at each of his packmates, Namjoon is filled with a sense of pride. Though they don’t know the extent of what has happened, they still support their mate to the best of their ability in a foreign country without question.

“Yoongi-hyung is feeling protective of Miss Y/n because of a few things. Miss Y/n is injured because of an accident caused by hyung. She is not in a good emotional state because of your Playmates’ behavior due to the same accident,” the Prime Alpha says as he looks back at the Director, trying to maintain a more neutral expression to hide his disdain for the women now in some office somewhere.

“As an Alpha, our animals require us to hold ourselves to a higher standard than other hybrids or humans. We like to try and ensure those around us are happy. With a very select few, we want to make sure they are also healthy and protected, among other things. In Yoongi’s Alpha space, he has failed to meet these standards when it comes to Miss Y/n. It is now beyond his control, so to speak, to do anything other than fix his mistakes and ensure Miss Y/n’s safety, recovery, and happiness. This means the Bangtan Pack is now responsible for the same.”

“Oh well. Um. I see. I can reassure you that Playmate Services has a good doctor who can tend to her if she needs one, and of course, she can have the rest of today and even tomorrow off. No need to make a fuss,” says the director, trying to dispel the sense of doom he is feeling due to the power emanating from the six remaining Alphas.

A deep growl rips from behind Namjoon, causing everyone to look and see that Taehyung's eyes are flickering crystal blue. His scent of burning ebony wood crashed over the pack.

Speaking through gritted teeth, he glares at the director, saying, “You seem to be in over your head, Mr. Johnson. Your company is built for hybrids, and you have hybrids working for you, yet you know nothing. Your incompetence is allowing bullying. From what one of your staff says, it has been happening for quite some time and yet you do nothing about it. Did you not hear our Prime Alpha tell you that she is ours now. We will take her to get treated by our medical professionals. We will take care of her to ensure she heals properly and regains a better state of mind. Not. You.”

“Hyung, it’s okay. Calm down, please. We don’t need two of you in Alpha space right now. It will not help Miss Y/n or Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook says as he steps up next to Taehyung, scenting his neck gently as his snickerdoodle scent pushes out, causing the blue to flicker to stop and remain his natural dark brown. 

With a last glare and a mumbled, “Pathetic, oblivious, 리더십이 부족한 사람, human.” He moves closer to Hoseok and, in turn, you. Jungkook quickly follows in an attempt to keep the high-tempered White Southwest African Tiger calm and get closer to you as well. 

“You may have misunderstood me, gentlemen. I have tried to deal with the playmates and their disrespectful actions towards Y/n and some of the other staff. Sadly, Reina is the top female pick and brings in a lot of money. Since we are the newest and smallest branch, the corporate office wants to refrain from taking any disciplinary actions for fear that she will quit. They think that any of the office staff are replaceable, whereas reliable Playmates are harder to find,” Mr. Johnson explains.

“Mr. Johnson, while that may be the case prior to today, their bullying has gone too far. Manager Sejin,” Namjoon says, “I believe it would be wise if the director took care of the bullying by the playmates and joined them for the time being. We need a few moments without interruptions to assess what is happening and how the Pack will move forward with this office, if at all.” 

Dismissing the director to be dealt with by Manager Sejin, Namjoon walks back to the door, which is now being guarded by Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. The scent of snickerdoodle, ebony wood, and lilac mix together with the pack scent of vanilla underneath.

“... can’t tell?”

“Can’t tell what?” Namjoon asks the small group.

“Hobi-hyung can’t tell,” replies Jungkook while Taehyung nods in agreement. 

“The boys say that their Alphas are reacting to Miss Y/n but I can’t tell if mine does or not. You spoke to her, stood right in front of her. Namjoon, can you tell?” questions Hoseok with his arms crossed and hip cocked to the side.

“Oh? Hmm, I guess I haven’t really paid attention. After what happened with… you know who… I guess I have been pushing my Alpha to the back as much as I could. I have been focusing on taking care of you guys, my mates, first and I couldn’t do that with him pacing in my head so much. She really tore Yoongi-hyung, Jimin-ah, and well you, Hobi, apart inside with what she said,” reflects the Prime Alpha.

Namjoon started thinking back to hearing your voice, full of determination and strength, over the phone yesterday. Your care, intention, and respect for the pack that you have shown today. It would be simple to say that his Alpha was at least comfortable around you, and from how the pack’s scents have been, he wasn’t the only one who was.

“My Alpha is comfortable with Miss y/n, but I wouldn’t say that he is reacting in any particular way.”

A soft whine leaves Jungkook before he says, “Why do the older mates always walk with blinders on? Huh! You need to really let your Alpha look at her. My Alpha hasn’t wanted to look away from her since we walked into the office.”

“Joon-hyung, I am with Kookie on this one,” Taehyung nods, still in the bunny hybrid's hold. “While I wasn’t drawn in right away, I trust Yoongi's Alpha not to react this way with just anyone. So, when he ran after her, I was the closest one to the door, and before the pack’s scent took over, I could smell vanilla with something rotten. At first, I thought it was a candle or something, but I looked around. There are no candles.”

Taehyung’s comment on smelling vanilla caught Jimin and Seokjin's attention. Turning to join the conversation while trying to maintain the barrier, Jimin speaks up, “So it wasn’t just me. When Yoongi-hyung and that man went in, I smelled vanilla with almost a compost-like smell. After that, my Alpha wanted nothing but to keep everyone, human or hybrid, away from this door. He is really fighting to be at the front.”

“I figured that our muscle bunny was just leaning into his instincts of being a bunny when he was speaking about Miss Y/n in the conference room. Yet it didn’t explain to me why my Alpha felt awkward at her bowing to me when I spoke to her before going into the room,” adds Seokjin with a stern but thoughtful look. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok moves away from the door slightly, his expression confused and frustrated. “Are you telling me that you have all had some kind of reaction from your Alphas for the human lady behind the door? Some of you smelled vanilla, too?”

Nodding, they all look at Hoseok and then at Namjoon, waiting for them to come to the same conclusion. After a few tense moments passed, it was like a lightbulb went off over Hoseok’s head as his lilac scent burst with more hints of rose and vanilla.

Everyone now focuses on Namjoon.

Namjoon’s head is racing over every moment that has happened since walking in the door. As Prime Alpha, his responsibilities for the pack are more significant than others, and with what the boys are hinting at, the next few moments will change so much. 

“Her reactions were top-notch with our pack, and her showing an exceeding amount of respect to the packmates could be just her professionalism,” he thinks aloud, trying to find a non-life-changing reason for the situation only to be met with more whines and a few soft growls.

Looking up, Namjoon makes eye contact with each of his mates before continuing, “However, only the vanilla scent can mean one thing which won’t be easy for the human woman.”

Taking a deep breath, the pack turned their attention to the door.

“We have an American Mate.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop

[ravensliterature]

Sentinels' Siege

A/N: Yeah, it has definitely been a minute. Saw the new X-Men 97 show and got inspired. Please enjoy this!

pairing: Magneto (Erik) x GN!Reader

warnings: Character death

w/c: 784

Prompt: The reader here has forcefield powers. The sentinel is attaching Genosha and the reader saves Erik at the expense of their own life.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the heart of Genosha, amidst the ruins of a once-thriving nation, the sentinel's ominous presence cast a shadow over the land. Its metallic form, a symbol of oppression and fear, loomed tall against the crimson sky, its mechanical eyes scanning the desolate landscape with ruthless efficiency. But amidst the chaos and fear, you stood as a beacon of hope, your powers of forcefield manipulation shielding not only Magneto but also civilians of Genosha from the sentinel's relentless assault.

Two spheres of energy shimmered in the air, each pulsating with the strength of your will. One enveloped Magneto, the other surrounded you and the civilians seeking refuge within your protective embrace. It was a delicate balance, maintaining both shields amidst the onslaught of the sentinel's attacks, but you refused to falter, driven by the unwavering resolve to protect those you loved at any cost.

As the sentinel unleashed its barrage of energy blasts, your forcefields flickered and crackled with energy, absorbing the brunt of the attacks. Beside you, Magneto watched in awe and gratitude, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of your unwavering determination. But beneath the surface, there was a surge of panic within him as he witnessed your struggle to maintain both shields.

He reached out to you, his voice a plea amidst the chaos. "Y/N, my love, you mustn't—"

But his words were lost in the cacophony of battle as your forcefields strained to their limits. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to break through your defenses and claim you all.

Flashbacks of your time together flooded your mind, each memory a bittersweet reminder of the bond you shared. You remembered the first time he had entrusted you with his secrets, the way his eyes softened as he spoke of a future where mutants could live without fear. You remembered the stolen moments of tenderness, the quiet nights spent gazing at the stars, finding solace in each other's company amidst the turmoil of their world.

But amidst the memories, there was the harsh reality of the present—the sentinel's relentless assault threatening to overwhelm your defenses. Your forcefields flickered and waned under the strain, cracks forming along their surfaces as they struggled to hold back the tide of destruction. Yet still, you refused to yield, your determination unyielding even in the face of insurmountable odds.

Magneto watched in silent anguish as you stood as the bulwark against the storm, his heart heavy with the weight of your sacrifice. He reached out, his hands grasping at empty air as you fell, the light fading from your eyes even as his world plunged into darkness.

In that final moment, as the sentinel loomed over Genosha victorious, Magneto could only cling to the memories of the love you shared—a love that had been both his greatest strength and his deepest sorrow. But though you were gone, your spirit would forever be etched in his heart, a guiding light in the darkness that now enveloped him.

And as he gazed upon the devastated landscape of Genosha, a vow ignited within him—a vow to carry on the fight in your honor, to ensure that your sacrifice would not be in vain. For in giving your life to protect others, you had shown him the true meaning of heroism—a selflessness that transcended even death itself.

But amidst the chaos and despair, there was one final moment of connection—a silent exchange of love that echoed across the battlefield. As the sentinel's onslaught reached its crescendo, engulfing you in a blinding blaze of light, you locked eyes with Magneto one last time.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around them fading into insignificance as you mouthed the words that echoed the depths of your soul, "I love you."

Though no sound escaped your lips, the sentiment rang loud and clear in the silence of the battlefield. It was a declaration of devotion, a testament to the bond that had transcended the trials and tribulations they had faced together.

Magneto's heart clenched with a mixture of grief and gratitude as he returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. And as the light consumed you, engulfing you in its brilliant embrace, he could only watch in silent agony as your form disappeared amidst the chaos.

But though your physical presence had been extinguished, your love would forever burn bright within his heart, a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped him. And as he stood amidst the ruins of Genosha, a solitary figure against the backdrop of devastation, he vowed to carry on your legacy—a legacy of love, sacrifice, and unwavering strength in the face of adversity.

[rayroseu]

Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.

So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.

Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.

But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans

But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)

Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--

I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:

"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls

This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... 😭💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.

And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp

[noirscript]

sanctum | chapter one

Pairing: Yandere Preacher x Reader Description: You came because your friend said it would help—just a quiet retreat, a place to clear your head. But from the moment you stepped through the gate, you felt it: the way Father Caelestis looked at you, not like a stranger, but like someone he'd been waiting for… someone he'd already claimed long before you ever arrived. Warning/s: Yandere | Religious themes | Cult-ish | Brainwashing | Manipulation Note/s: Enjoy the first part of the series. Let me know what you think about it. Also, commissions are open. Links are below. :) Also, tags will be added tomorrow. I'm too sleepy to add them tonight.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Commission | Tip Jar | Dark Roast 50% Off

Chapter One | The Pilgrim’s Arrival

“You did not wander here. You were called.”

The journey to Eden’s Refuge starts before the road, before the iron gates and the immaculate gardens. It starts in the cramped, dimly-lit living room of your apartment. The curtains are drawn, letting only thin slivers of daylight cut through the suffocating air between you.

“You can’t keep living like this,” she says, her voice sharp but threaded with concern. “You’re drowning, and you don’t even see it.”

You cross your arms, the defensive posture a reflex against her words. “I’m fine, Mia,” you snap. “I’m dealing with it.”

Her laugh is short, bitter. “Dealing with it? You call this dealing? Skipping work half the time, avoiding my calls, shutting everyone out?” She leans forward, her elbows on her knees, her gaze burning into yours. “You need help.”

You stand, the motion sudden and jerky, as though you can outrun the weight of the conversation. “I don’t need anything,” you say, pacing to the small window. Outside, the city hums with life—cars honking, people shouting, the world moving on without you.

“You’re not listening,” Mia says, her voice softening now, the sharp edge dulled by something warmer. She stands too, coming to your side. Her hand rests lightly on your shoulder, and you almost flinch. “This isn’t your fault, okay? The world… it’s not kind. It’s broken. And it breaks people like us.”

You glance at her, suspicious. “What are you trying to say?”

She takes a deep breath, her hand dropping to her side. “There’s a place,” she begins, carefully. “A retreat. Eden’s Refuge. It’s for people like you. People who need to get away, to heal.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need a retreat.”

“You don’t even know what you need,” Mia counters. “And they can help you figure it out. I’ve been there, and it…” She falters for a moment, her eyes flickering with something you can’t place. “It saved me.”

You stare at her, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread. “You?” you ask, incredulous. “Since when do you need saving?”

She looks away, her jaw tightening. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d react like this. But yes, me. I was lost too, and Father Caelestis—he showed me the way back. He can do the same for you.”

“This is insane,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re talking about some… some cult leader.”

Her expression hardens, the warmth draining from her eyes. “It’s not a cult,” she says, her voice clipped. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And you do?” you snap, voice sharp with disbelief. “God, Mia, listen to yourself.”

You take a step back, then jab a finger at her. Accusing, trembling with frustration. “This… this…” you drag your eyes over her with a shake of your head, like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. “…isn’t you.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” she snaps, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of something truly unsettling in her gaze.

The conversation ends there, but the seed is planted. Over the next few weeks, Mia doesn’t let up. She calls you daily, her tone oscillating between gentle encouragement and thinly-veiled exasperation. And each time she mentions Eden’s Refuge, the knot in your stomach tightens.

“You need this,” she says over the phone one evening. “I’ve already talked to them. They’re expecting you.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” you protest, but your words feel weak, hollow.

“You don’t have to agree,” Mia replies, her voice calm, almost patronizing. “You’ll thank me later.”

And so, here’s you are, sitting in the passenger seat of her car as it winds its way through the dense forest. The air outside grows heavier with each passing mile, the trees crowding the road like silent sentinels. Mia hums softly to herself, her fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with a tune you can’t place.

“You’ll love it,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence. “The peace, the quiet… it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you stare out the window, your reflection fractured by the passing trees.

When the gates of Eden’s Refuge appear, your breath catches in your throat. They rise high, ornate and foreboding, their iron surface gleaming in the waning light.

“We’re here,” Mia announces, her tone light, as though you’ve just arrived at a vacation resort.

The gates creak open, and you feel the weight of your decision—or rather, her decision—settle on your chest.

As soon as you step out of the car, you’re greeted by a woman in white, her smile wide and unwavering. “Welcome, beloved,” she says, her voice soothing and strange all at once.

You glance at Mia, but she’s already moving ahead, her expression serene, as though she belongs here.

The others emerge from the shadows, their movements synchronized, their faces glowing with an unsettling mix of joy and reverence. “You’ve finally come,” one of them whispers, and the words send a chill down your spine.

And then, he appears.

Father Caelestis.

He moves through the crowd with an almost otherworldly grace, his white robe billowing around him. His features are flawless, his eyes piercing, and his smile warm—too warm.

“You were lost,” he says, his voice as soft and heavy as a prayer. “But now you are found.”

You feel his gaze lock onto yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. His presence is magnetic, suffocating.

You want to run, to turn back to Mia and demand she take you home, but she’s standing beside him now, her expression one of pure devotion.

“The world out there is cruel,” he continues, his voice wrapping around you like shroud. “But here, you are safe. Here, you will heal.”

His hand extends toward you, and you hesitate before taking it. His grip is firm, his touch cold, and it sends a shiver through you.

The others nod, their faces glowing with fervor.

“Come,” he says, and before you can protest, Mia is at your side, her hand lightly resting on your arm.

“Trust me,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “This is where you belong.”

You let them lead you deeper into the compound, your dread growing with every step. The air smells of flowers and something else, something metallic and faintly acrid.

Your room is pristine, its white walls bare save for a single verse written in looping script: “Be still, and know that you are loved.” The bed is draped in white linens that smell of floral water, the air thick with its cloying sweetness.

That night, you lie awake, the silence pressing against you like a physical force. You can hear the faint hum of chanting in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment.

When you wake, the first thing you notice is the symbol beneath your bed. It’s drawn in ash, its jagged lines forming a shape that makes your stomach churn.

You want to scrub it away, to pretend it isn’t there, but fear holds you back.

At breakfast, Mia sits beside you, her expression calm, her movements deliberate.

“They’ve been waiting for you,” she says, her voice soft but filled with something unsettling. “We’ve all been waiting for you.”

You glanced around the room, your unease growing as you notice the way the others look at you—with reverence… with expectation.

Father Caelestis enters, his presence commanding the room without a word.

“The outside world has left its mark on her,” he says, his eyes scanning the congregation before settling on you. “But she is strong. She is chosen. And together, we will help her shed the weight of those lies.”

Mia nods, her expression one of quiet devotion.

You want to protest, to tell them they’re wrong, but the words catch in your throat.

When he places a hand on your shoulder, his touch light but unyielding, you feel the weight of his control settle over you.

“You’re safe now,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “No more noise. No more confusion. Just peace.”

But his eyes betray him. They’re not soft. They’re not kind. They’re possessive, unyielding, and they tell you one thing:

You are not leaving.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya

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[crystaleclipse10]

A look into the Ninja's powers

Welcome to my analysis of the powers of each of the 6 main Ninja. How each power feels and its source for each Elemental Master, and how it reflects in their personalities. This has headcanons and canon explanation. Hopefully it all makes sense

Cole: Cole’s power comes from deep within the ground. He can feel the power of the earth in his guts, strong and steady. It’s grounding. It’s constant. The earth is always somewhere below him. No matter where he is, somewhere there’s earth—whether it’s deep within a mountain, everywhere; or leagues under the sea; or so far beneath the sky it is practically invisible—it will never not be there. It’s reliable. Yet it takes different forms: dirt, rocks, magma, sand; it’s all part of the ground, versatile. It’s protective; it encases and preserves ancient ruins and fossils, it gives shelter to those seeking refuge. It connects all living things—it reaches every part of the world. It cannot be forced to move, but it can be guided. It is the foundation of everything.

“You've never been farther underground. Never been more surrounded by the very thing that powers you. The Skull Sorcerer thought he was burying you, but what if he was actually bringing you closer to the earth? To the source of your elemental power?” “So what do I do? Try to connect with the earth?” “Perhaps. Or perhaps you just have to stop worrying so much and let the earth connect with you.”

Zane: Zane can sense his ice powers in his mind. It can exist in the coldest of climates, and when it melts, turns into something just as powerful; it is not wasted. It carves its way through anything—glaciers. The rivers of ice creep forward slowly but surely, taking everything in its path. It’s steady and cold, but its bite can be unrelenting. Frostbite, hypothermia—just as cold as ice is. And icicles, especially when shot as a projectile, are like daggers; sharp and dangerous. But it can numb pain. It tames something burning hot into something pleasantly warm. It is hard and strong, but it can crack—and if that happens, it can be made whole again with a little time. It is reliable and quiet. It can create a protective barrier. It’s there when it needs to be.

“This isn’t about numbers…it’s about family.” “He’s protecting us.” “I am a Nindroid, and Ninja never quit. Go Ninja, go!”

Jay: Lightning. He can feel it buzzing on his skin and nerves, able to be condensed and controlled. Pure energy, electricity. It’s volatile and dangerous. But it can be essential to life. It’s everywhere—thunderstorms, static, neurons firing in the brain. If it wasn’t for electricity, the brain would cease to function and life couldn’t exist. It’s quick—blink and it’s gone, just a thread of light that comes and goes. But its impact is remembered. A thunderous boom, a scar of soot, sometimes even a blaze set in its wake. Its glow is practically too bright to look at; a source of light for even the darkest of caves. Just one spark can start a fire or illuminate a building. It’s a source of power—for vehicles, technology, buildings. Even though it is not always visible, lightning and electricity are all around, ready to be called upon.

“Control the power inside you. When you feel a surge welling up, harness it.”

Kai: Kai’s power over fire comes from the breath—air is fuel for fire, and controlled breathing can control the blaze. It is not a matter of force—though hot anger can stoke fire—but harnessing the buzzing potential in the air. Fire can be destructive; a wildfire is chaotic, unyielding, and intense, burning everything in its path. But it can be life-giving, too. It’s cozy. It provides warmth on the coldest of nights. It can cook food, boil water, ward off frost. It is the essence of the sun—the largest blaze that allows life to exist. It burns with passion and ferocity, but if it loses strength, there will always be an ember remaining. Almost nothing can beat back a big, hot fire. It can be a weapon or a defense; it hurts to touch, and no one without immunity would dare go near. Without fire, life could not be sustained.

“I just wish I still had my powers. I was Master of Fire. I could've made a new fire like—like...like this.” “Oh, do not worry, Kai. Elemental Power comes from within, like courage. Sometimes it wanes, sometimes it waxes, but it cannot be stolen.”

Nya: The power of water flows through her veins. Water is ever-changing and powerful. Even the strongest rocks erode under the power of water. It’s relentless. It can defeat ghosts because it is always changing and shifting, while ghosts are stuck trying to be one thing and refuse to change. It cleanses and heals. The first thing to do for something dirty is to wash it with water. And it’s part of blood, something vital for people to live. It’s restless. The ocean never stays still; it does not like to be contained. The tides are as constant as they are powerful. The entire ocean moves with the tides; the constant in and out of so much water shapes the coasts. Rivers bend and flow around obstacles; no matter what is in the way, it will eventually reach the ocean—the largest body of water filled with plants and animals. Water supports life and creates ecosystems. It’s the heart of the wild.

“Jay, the ocean's good for much more than food. As we go deeper, I can feel its elemental power growing. It's almost overwhelming.”

Lloyd: Perhaps the most vague but also the most powerful element is Lloyd’s. Is it Power? Creation? Energy? Life? Lloyd is connected to the Source Dragon of Life, not Energy. Whatever the case, it comes from his heart. If it is Life, that is where it is strongest—the beating of a heart shows life in a living being; it is impossible to live without a heart. It’s everywhere—inside Lloyd, in his comrades, his students, his masters, nature around him. His love for the world is his true self and makes his heart powerful. His goodness gives him strength. His drive to save the world fuels his passion. Life is inside of him, but it can also be taken away. It can heal, but also hurt. When it is taken away, overused, or corrupted, it leaves him weakened and sick. But it can save his life in a fight—and it has. It is a combination of the core elements of Creation: Lightning, Ice, Fire, and Earth—LIFE (thank you @secretlyharumi for helping me realize this!). They can be utilized individually, but also combined into something potent and beautiful. Without life, nothing would exist. It is the thread of the universe, stitching together things similar and different; big and small.

“I’m already the Golden Ninja. How much more power do I need?” “You’ve only scratched the surface! You have the potential to move mountains. Power of the First Spinjitzu Master!”

I like the idea the Ninja's personalities and powers are mixed

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[nelumbonuciferagaertn]

Doey (poppy playtime) x Reader

Warning: Slightly implicit, injury Relationship: Romantic with Doey, colleague with the Player, family with the smiling creatures Reader's gender: Not mentioned Summary: The first time Doey was frozen, the reader used their/his/her fire powers to warm him up and hugged him.

!The reader is not the Player; they are two different entities!

***

You're looking for Doey. You have something to tell him, but you can't find him in the refuge. You ask a little dog toy if he knows where the dough man is. Following the little guy’s directions, you set off toward the location he mentioned.

Walking down a dimly lit, gray hallway, you’re not entirely sure where you're headed, but you press on. You open a metallic door, glance to your right, and see a wall. So, left it is. You continue until you reach another intersection. Looking to your right, you spot a passage—or at least, you think it's a passage. It’s too dark to tell for sure. Summoning a small flame in your dominant hand, you flick it forward with a swift motion, illuminating the blind alley at the end of the path.

Turning left instead, you follow a faint blue glow. As you reach the middle of the corridor, you spot the Player moving forward with their GrabPack. You can’t understand how a human manages to walk, run, jump, and perform all those physical feats with such a heavy machine—without even eating to regain strength!

Just as you’re about to call out to them to ask if they’ve seen Doey, a familiar voice catches your attention.

"Oh, it's you!"

Congratulating yourself for finding him, you move closer to better hear the conversation without revealing yourself just yet.

"Is the Doctor… No, I don’t suppose he is, then…"

A pang of guilt hits you for eavesdropping, so you decide to step forward.

"Hello?" you say, stepping into the room.

Both characters turn to face you.

"Oh, hi! So you’re here too?!" Doey exclaims.

"Yeah, I needed to talk to you. A little guy told me you were here, so… here I am!"

"About what?"

"It’s not very important. I don’t want to interrupt anything, so you two go ahead, I’ll chat with you later."

You offer him a gentle smile, making him stare at you for a moment before shifting his focus back to the Player.

"Hum! I’ve been gathering parts for the generator."

As you listen, you take a seat next to the former employee, positioning yourself in front of the living toy for a better view—perfect for conversation.

Doey giggles, and his laughter is contagious, making you smile again.

"LOTS of—"

He’s suddenly cut off by an icy gust of air blasting from a pipe behind him. His face twists in terror as he hurriedly looks toward the source, but before he can react, he doubles over in pain, freezing on the spot.

Shocked, you instinctively snap into a defensive stance. Panic floods your mind; you don’t know what to do, but you do know that Doey needs help.

You reach out to him on reflex, but the cold from the gas burns even you, despite your naturally high body temperature. If it hurts you, it must be unbearable for Doey.

Leaning into your stance, you warn, "Back off! I’m going to have to use my flames!"

Summoning a ball of heat, you focus all your attention on growing it larger and larger. The intensity of your power makes your hair and clothes lift in the air. But a dangerous thought creeps into your mind—if you overdo it, you might explode the pipe, releasing even more gas everywhere!

Just then, you hear movement behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the former employee turning the valve handle, shutting off the cold flow.

"Oh! Yeah, we can do that. Good idea!" you say, giving them a thumbs-up and extinguishing your flames.

Doey’s form slowly thaws, freeing him.

You rush toward him, wanting to check if he’s okay, but he suddenly speaks.

"Hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts…" he mutters, his voice laced with pain. His labored breathing follows.

Your hand moves to your chest, clutching your shirt slightly as pity floods your heart.

The metallic door creaks open. You glance at the Player and nod toward the now-open path, silently telling them to continue their mission.

As the Player moves on, Doey's pained complaints pull your attention back to him.

"He's made it impossible for me to get around here. Traps like that are everywhere!" he yells, making the ground tremble slightly.

You’re not scared. He’ll never scare you for two reasons: One, you’re confident in your abilities. Two, when you love someone, logic gives way to emotion. You wish you could tell him all your thoughts about the man in front of you, but this isn’t the time.

"It’s the cold that hurts… The big mean Doctor knows that…" His voice weakens, and then he starts to sob. It breaks you.

"It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s okay…"

For several moments, you say nothing, trying to think of something better to say.

Five seconds pass. Then, you realize actions speak louder than words.

Softly, you step closer to Doey. Stopping just before touching him, you open your arms in an unspoken invitation for a hug.

At first, he just stares, clearly judging you. …Okay, maybe words are necessary after all.

"Uh… You know, I give off more heat than normal. You’re cold, and it hurts, right? So, I thought I could help by, you know… hugging you?"

The more you talk, the stupider you feel.

"But if you don’t want to, I totally understand! It was just a suggestion—"

"No! I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m refusing. I accept your offer."

He sits down heavily, making the ground tremble again.

Absolutely thrilled, you smile at him, and he quickly looks away. Carefully, you move forward until you touch his belly. He’s so big, you’re not sure how to position yourself. You settle on wrapping your arms around him, deciding that later, when you’re more comfortable you might shift to something more intimate.

That thought alone makes your face burn. Your temperature spikes higher than usual.

Doey sighs in contentment.

"Do you feel better?" you ask, looking up into his eyes.

He meets your gaze with a smile.

"Yeah. You’re so warm, it’s really relaxing."

You consciously ignore the flustered voice in your head.

"Perfect! That’s the goal!"

A comfortable silence settles between you.

"So… what did you want to tell me earlier?" he finally asks.

"Oh! Right! I found a vending machine, but it’s full of expired food. I was wondering if you could still eat it. Also, it’s buried under some rubble, so I’ll need help clearing it."

"First, I think we can eat it. I mean… we’ve eaten worse."

You understand the implication and lower your head in quiet sympathy.

"Besides, it’s better to try than to waste food, right?" he adds.

You nod.

"And second, I can totally help with the rubble, I’m pretty strongh!"

You laugh at his terrible joke—it’s exactly your kind of humor.

And just like that, the two of you continue on, side by side. After a few seconds, once you've calmed down, he says:

"Can we, um... change position? " "If it makes you more comfortable, of course! "

With his strength and elasticity returning, he lifts you up and places your back against him. Your hunched legs rest between his, while his arms wrap around your body. He gently rests his head on yours. Relaxing, you place your hands on his and let your legs touch the ground.

You are so happy that you radiate more heat, and a silly smile refuses to leave your face. His legs are really short compared to yours. Oops, that was an intrusive thought.

You stay like that for nearly ten minutes before Doey finally speaks: "I feel much better, thanks to you. I think we can get up now. " "Can we stay a little longer? Five minutes max... um, only if you want! " "Of course, pal! "

You actually stay much longer than five minutes before finally leaving. After this moment, which you consider intimate, you guide Doey through the ruins. The two of you make a great team—while you burn or melt obstacles with your pyrokinesis, Doey clears the path and carries supplies on the way back. Talking about everything and nothing, you both lose track of time.

When you arrive at Safe Haven, you distribute the food to the other toys. After the meal, you all play together, your enthusiasm helping everyone forget, even if just for a few minutes, the nightmare they are trapped in.

Seeing all the effort you put into making the toys happy does something to Doey. They are his family, and watching them like you, and you like them, just as he loves them, melts his heart. He admires how kind, caring, strong, and gentle you are, and... well, he thinks he loves you. Unlike Angel, who is a spark of hope, you are more like a comforting ember, turning Safe Haven into something even closer to paradise.

You notice that Doey has been looking at you for several minutes. You glance back at him and smile. This simple action makes his heartbeat quicken, and his own smile grows wider. You think it's cute, but your reflection is suddenly interrupted when a little Kickin’ Chicken jumps on you and yells:

"YOU’RE IT! " "HA! Not for long! Fear me! "

Laughter and screams fill the air as you all run, dodge, and sneak around. Doey proves to be the hardest player to tag due to his malleability, and you suspect that the few times you manage to touch him, he lets you on purpose. But it doesn’t matter because right now, you’re having fun with the people you care about.

And with a dough man you love.