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omomancer · 4 months

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omomancer's ultimate dice holding challenge!

so, inspired by @tanyapiankova12 's dice holding challenge, i decided i wanted to make my own that's more suited to my own tastes. its a little meaner if you want something a little harder/more punishing!

you'll need water (obviously), a D6 (a virtual dice roller works best if you dont have one!), clothes youre okay with wetting/leaking in, and diapers (these are optional, dont worry if youre not into that!)

start by rolling the Drink table one or two times. i recommend waiting until you can feel your bladder starting to fill before starting rolls. once you start, unless otherwise instructed, roll your dice every 10-15 minutes!

Firstly, roll one d6 for the table below- afterwards, roll another d6 for the results on the table! the game ends when you either get permission to pee, or, you know, wet yourself.

if you leak without permission, or have an accident, roll the corresponding leak or accident tables. finally, if you do this challenge, feel free to message or ping me in a post and tell me how it goes! <3

as with any holding challenge, listen to yourself and your body! if you start to feel sick, or hurt to the point its not enjoyable, stop immediately! make sure to stay safe!

First Table;

Drink

Wait

Challenge

Clothing

Tease

Relief

Drink;

Drink half a cup of your choice of fluid

Drink a full cup of water

Drink a full cup of diuretic (tea, soda, coffee, etc.)

Drink 2 cups of water

Drink 2 cups of diuretic

Unlucky! Drink a cup and a half of water and diuretic each.

Wait;

Wait an extra 10 minutes before your next roll

Press on your bladder for 30 seconds per minute until your next roll

Wait 30 minutes before your next roll

Roll Drink table, then wait an extra 10 minutes before next roll.

Keep your legs spread until your next roll

No waiting, roll again immediately.

Challenge;

Relax your muscles entirely until your next roll; squirming, holding etc. is fine, but your muscles must not be tensed.

Take an ice cube, or something else frozen, and leave it ontop of your bladder until your next roll.

Place something firm underneath you, and lay with your bladder pressed onto it until your next roll.

Listen to water noises until your next roll.

Squat for a full minute, pressing on your bladder for 5 seconds while you do.

No holding yourself or crossing your legs until your next roll.

Clothing;

Strip to just your underwear. Let out a one second leak- if it hits the floor, you're not allowed to take your underwear off at all for the rest of the challenge.

Put on tight bottoms that squeeze your bladder.

Add an extra layer ontop of what you're already wearing.

Put a diaper ontop of what you're already wearing. If you're already wearing a diaper, double up. If you don't want to wear a diaper or don't have any, put on two layers of pants.

Use a belt, or something similar (rope, string, etc.) to tie your bottoms to yourself. Make sure it's pressing into your bladder. You cannot remove this until the end of the challenge, or to place extra layers on when instructed.

Strip completely nude. If you prefer wetting clothing, or have failed #1 previously, re-reroll this table.

Tease;

Edge yourself once before your next roll.

Rub yourself slowly with your legs spread until your next roll.

Post a detailed description of how you're feeling right now- how your bladder feels, if you're wet or dry, how turned you are. etc.

Hump the nearest soft object to you until your next roll. This can be a pillow, a plushie, a rolled up blanket or towel, etc.

If you have one, hold a vibrator against yourself until your next roll. If not, re-roll this.

Bring yourself to the edge, then roll this table again. If you get 6 again, you can cum. If not, edge.

Relief;

Leak for 2 seconds into whatever you're wearing.

Fill a cup with water, then slowly pour it into the toilet. Doesn't that feel better?

Take a bottle cap, and pee into that. If you overflow, roll leak punishment table.

Sit on the toilet until your next roll, then flush and wash your hands as if you used the bathroom. Do not pee.

Leak until a wet spot appears on the outer layer of your clothing. If nude, leak one second.

Roll this table again. If you get this again, spread your legs and press on your bladder, letting out a 5 second leak. If you manage to stop it, roll this table again. If you get this a third time, congratulations! You have earned permission to pee. Try not to have an accident on the way to the toilet <3

PUNISHMENTS

Leaking;

Post a detailed description of how you leaked, and write about how pathetic you are for failing to control your bladder. Then, roll Drink table.

For the rest of the challenge, you must have something constantly pressing into your bladder. Be it a belt, or something pressing against you while you lay on your stomach, or your hand. Get creative. But your bladder must always be squashed.

For the rest of the challenge, you must listen to loud water noises.

Sit on the toilet fully clothed, and turn on your bathroom sink. Press on your bladder until your next roll. If you leak during this, press harder.

Turn on your bath or shower, and stand next to the running water until your next roll.

You are banned from using the toilet for the rest of the challenge. No matter what, you are going to have an accident. Stay dry next time, and maybe you'll get your toilet privileges back.

Accident;

You failed to hold it, and now you're soaking wet. Clearly, someone needs to teach you a lesson.

For the next 24 hours, any time you need to pee, you must lay down a towel or puppy pad, kneel on it, and pee on it through your underwear. Post about it every time you do.

Roll 1d6. This is the amount of days you are banned from the toilet entirely.

For the next 48 hours, you must hold it until you start to leak before running to the toilet. If you don't make it, post about it.

Clearly, your potty training has failed. For the next 24 hours, any time you feel the urge to pee, you must immediately wet into either your pants or a diaper.

For the next 24 hours, you must hold it until you have an accident every time you need to pee.

Do not pee before bed tonight. When you wake up, you must get permission from someone to pee. If you have an accident before you get permission, or wet the bed during the night, post about it and roll this table again.

#omorashi #live hold #bladder holding #bladder control #pee kink #pee accident #accident #omutsu #omocute #im ngl making this made me turned on as hell lmao

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ddejavvu · 2 months

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okay but mei, touchy bestie anakin with no boundaries??

like pls that man just brush against me and i’d become goo on the spot

we've expanded a lot on bff!james with no boundaries but I'd love more on anakin :)

It's not uncommon to see pairs of padawans looking as though their brief sparring session has resulted in the destruction of all of their bones. It's so common, in fact, that salles have a cooldown area, separated from the main floor and paved with tile so that the floors produce a chilling effect when exhausted padawans flop down onto them.

It's an odd hour of the evening and classes resume tomorrow, so you and Anakin had the salles to yourselves. You're sprawled out over the tile emitting intermittent groans here and there- perhaps Anakin is brushing up on his Shyriiwook.

When the sun no longer stretches to the door, now receding over the windowsill, you know you'll need to be back in your respective quarters soon to avoid 2 nagging masters lecturing on school nights and proper nighttime conduct which, apparently, does not include sparring.

You nudge your hand against the back of Anakin's own, "Let's go."

Another groan that speaks deeply to the exhaustion inside of you.

You peel yourself off of the tile first, but Anakin's quick to catch your arm, and a flick of his forearm means you're falling back against the floor once more. The angle that he pulls you at, however, lands you more on him.

You fall halfway on top of his chest, and your elbow hits his stomach. He lets out yet another grunt, this time of sharp pain instead of a dull ache, "Oh- kriff."

"Sorry!" You press your palm flat against him to get up, and it hits his chest, rock-hard and damp beneath his sweat-soaked tunic. You try pushing up and off of him but he catches your wrists, weakening your grip and holding you semi-upright above him.

"Easy," He soothes, folding upright himself with a heavy sigh and righting you in the process. He blinks languidly, and one his hands lingers on your own, "I don't think I can walk back to my quarters."

"I can't carry you," You try wriggling your wrist out of his grip, but he tightens his hold and pulls you in to smear his sweaty brow against your shoulder- too close to your chest for your stomach not to twist.

You feel a huff of his breath leak beneath the outer layer of your tunics and he draws back having left a stain on your clothes, eyes narrowed at it in sadistic pride.

"There," He nods once, using a great deal of effort to rise to his feet, "I think you should carry me. I won, after all."

"You always win," You grumble, taking the hand that he offers you and letting him haul you off of the ground, "Besides, I can barely walk myself."

Quite contrary to his beleaguered complaints, he merely rolls his eyes, stepping in front of you and offering you his back, his legs bending partway to lower him into a squat.

You stand frozen, half-indignant at being cut off, and half bewildered by the offer you think he might be making.

And he is making it, though his patience is waning as he urges you forwards with his hands, "Come on! If I keep squatting like this my knees are gonna give out."

You rush to scramble up into his grip, his hands winding around your thighs, fingers squeezing places you weren't aware were integral to your support.

"You're lugging me through the Temple on your back," You point out, but your arms tighten around his shoulders just in case he decides to rescind his offer, "Your knees are gonna give out no matter what."

His jaw tightens as you murmur in his ear- you know it by the way a muscle beneath his cheek jumps. You wonder if he can feel it- if he can sense it when you swallow the little saliva that's pooled in your mouth upon such close contact with Anakin, and he calls his abandoned lightsaber to his hand after that uncharacteristic moment of hesitation with a flick of his fingers.

"Hold this," He orders, stuffing the cold hilt into your hands that are crossed over his chest, dangling there over his broad shoulders. You don't ask why he can't just clip it to his belt- you're too busy focusing on the way that his hand comes back to grip awfully close to your core when he braces it back on your thigh.

Hand warmed by your skin, fingers inches away from your now-aching core, the muscle of his back pressed to your chest, Anakin marches through the halls of the Temple, palming your thighs to readjust your position on his back far too often.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

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yandere-wishes · 7 months

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𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

Summary: You try to escape from two fearsome Sith Lords. Surprisingly they take it rather well.

Author's note: This is totally getting a part 2. Or maybe a series we'll see.

Warnings: dark, absolutely no regard for the rule of two, sorta a vent fic (venting that these two are so fine and I can't get them out of my mind), slightly fluffy.

The empire's warships have a tendency to blur reality. The interiors of their large hulking exoskeletons house endless corridors and makeshift chambers. Vast, endless arrays of space. They've been optimized for housing droids, clones, and artillery. Not for escape, not for an endless search of a freedom that has long since eroded.

Calling yourself anything but desperate would be a lie. Your feet run to the chorus of your broken heartbeat. The need for freedom, the need to escape spreads through your body like a poison. You know it'll end up killing you, either from exhaustion or by their sabars. But you have to try, you have to run. Even if you've left fragments of yourself in the warm bed the three of you sleep on. Even if you forgot your heart under Anakin's pillow and your soul still lingers in Maul's warm embrace. Maybe freedom is worth cutting off pieces of yourself, if only in the hope that someday they might grow back.

There's something wrong with the corridors you're sure of it. You've never been one for directions, instead relying on the holo screens and navigation systems to lead the way. Mirror images as far as the eye can see. Identical, plain. Nothing substantial to store in your memory. There's something ironic about this situation, a punchline that doesn't quite land. You half haphazardly tug on the skirt of your nightgown, desperate for anything familiar. You're not sure why.

You remember how Anakin called you pretty this morning, still hazy, still clinging to the sensation of slumber. Perfect blue eyes too dazed to look at you. Really look at you. The chosen one gazes at your ghost, your ethos. the perfect doll he and Maul had morphed you into. Behind you

Maul pulls you to his chest. Hand running up and down her side, trying to resurrect you into his dreams. It's only when Anakin's eyes close, seeling the shimmering blue orbs, that you crawl out of bed and into the unknown.

You're lost, abandoned in absolute desolation. The marble tiles bleed frost into the soles of your feet. Somewhere in the distance, you feel a disturbance in the force. Too far away to matter, yet leaking with a potent rage that burns. It's hope you think, albeit pathetically, maybe it's better to capitulate this pointless crusade and wait for the Sith lords to find you. The crash comes just as you're about to stop. You bump into him, falling in the process. All armor and steel. The Stormtrooper's mask is off giving you a clear view of his scarred face. His eyes flash, some dreary emotion too obscure to read, he offers you a gloved hand, something human something casual.

You stare frozen.

When exactly did you stop comprehending human idiosyncrasies?

When exactly did you start reading every interaction as a threat?

He's a monster, you think, just like the ones you've been warned about. Lectured time and time again by both Anakine and Maul. Monsters pry on little girls, especially ones who wander off on their own. Monsters lurk behind unsuspecting walls, ready to pounce when their prey approaches. You wonder if, the definitive definition of "monster" could be passed on to the two Siths who call themselves your lovers.

There's blood, too crimson to be real. Metallic aromas wafted through the air. You've only now noticed how close the disturbance in the force really is. Close enough to distinguish itself. To reveal that, in actuality, it's not a disturbance at all.

It's two...

Something cold yanks at your forearm. Pulling you to your feet. for a split second, your nerves calm. The familiarity of the cybernetic arm grants you a heavy ease. Anakin pushes you over to where Maul is standing. Golden eyes burning holes through the stormtrooper's armor. 'He didn't do anything' you long to say. But the words wisely die on your tongue as Maul grips your shoulders. Anakine's saber is lit, stabbing through the soldier's armor as if it were flesh. As if killing him where as easy as killing a rogue thought. "You're quite a foolish soldier for daring to touch that which belongs to your commanders. Even more imbecilic for so much as looking at emperor Palpatine's disciple."

Maul's grip on your shoulders tightens, eyes never once leaving the bloodshed. One of his hands instinctively roams to your belly, then slides down to your thigh. Rubbing it ever so gently as his claws pierce your soft skin. You close your eyes trying to make yourself smaller. You hate how his touch grounds you. How the familiarity plucks at your heartstrings. When he touches you like this you wish you would forever rot in his arms.

"'I'm sorry" You don't know why the words come so easily. As if they've been itching to spill from your tongue. Maybe it's easier to say 'I'm sorry' rather than 'You've broken my perception of love, of reality and now I can only find comfort in your darkness.' "Hush" Maul's anger spills with every syllable. His claws dig deeper, earning him a pained hiss from his doll.

"You're not sorry, in fact, you rather enjoyed this didn't you? Running away making us chase you down, I never thought your species would enjoy being the prey so much, little one." Anakin walks over, saber seethed at his side. His every step promised pain, retribution. He's angry, furious. They both are, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, they'll end it all today.

Maul's chambers have always been a testament to Dathomir, bathed in deep scarlets and endless ebony. You wonder if he's homesick for a place he's only visited in his worst ephialtes. After the incident in the corridors, they drag you back to the Zabrak's room. Neither bothering to say a word. Merely permitting their rage to engulf you, subduing you into submission. It's an unwelcome surprise when they begin to prep for the day. Throwing on their black cloaks, prior to choosing your outfit. An abnormal affinity settles across the room. Too unnerving to go unchecked.

They dress you each morning, a ritual you think, some attestation of love that's never been quite right. Maul drapes you in velvet dresses. Each one harbors a sui generis softness that sits erroneously across your skin. Their opulent sensation only brings forth feelings of aversion and despair. Their softness an ode to your imprisonment.

the dresses come in shades of crimson, detailed sometimes in black, sometimes in gold, and sometimes in a frigid blue that sends shivers running up your spine.

Anakin fusses over your accessories, why they feel the need to dress you so extravagantly daily is beyond you -as you've come to realize many things are- On days when Anakin's hubris reaches its apex, he bathes you in gold. Astonishing glittering collars across your neck and Kuat bangles hanging from your wrists. When he's sober from his pride he chooses black diamonds. Simple and exotic. scintillate and opaque.

Allusions to the dark side.

A hidden reference that crawls inside you.

Once, back when you'd been sure defiance was still an option. Back when callow hope still dared to flow through your veins. Back when you'd been a jejune, stubborn thing. You had refused to wear one of the dresses they'd bought. Adimant in your refusal until Maul had stuck out his hand. Summoning the Force to remind you just who held the supreme authority here.

The Force had strangled you, clawing hungrily at your neck. You felt your bones caving in on themselves, watched with exacerbating hysteria as your feet abandoned the floor. He'd only released you when he was sure you were near death's adorned door. Permitting you to molder on the floor akin to a ragdoll.

Anakin had chastised you after you'd conjured enough strength to sit up, gasping greedily for air. He'd broken two fingers that day. One still harbors a small scar.

A Promise ring.

An augury.

There are days, few and far between. When they've deemed you've been behaving adequately for long enough. That they permit you the choice of which dress you'd fancy wearing for the day. It's a rare event, reserved as a special treat. You think it's their way of proposing variety, giving you the illusion of choice. Making you feel a little less smothered.

Today is not one of those days. Today, you feel them pick you apart, only to reassemble you in their image. Drowning you in extravagance. A reminder, one whose deprecating nature weaves itself within your muscles. You, little girl, are nothing more than a doll. And dolls should know their place.

No sooner do you feel the final lace fasten across your back, that Anakin is tugging you outside the door. Metal arm clasped around your forearm.

Maul follows behind molten gaze locked on your face. The hallways bend to their will as if the walls themselves quiver with their presence. You recognize this corridor, recognize the frigid forlorn.

There's something wrong with Emperor Palpatine's throne room. It's surreal, makeshift. His real throne lays somewhere cold, somewhere even his apprentices don't dare wander off to. The ironclad throne has never felt right. Never felt like it held any real power. Just terror, just dread, just hatred. But here it is in all its glory. Left to two apprentices who'd rather treat it as a toy than a sacred place.

Anakin dramatically throws himself onto the throne. One leg thrown over the armrest as he leans against the other. His other leg planted firmly on the ground. He keeps you steady on his thigh. Torturing you with his distant, disappointed look. Maul stands in front of you. His eyes liquid gold melting into you. You see the galaxy in them. Hear it whispearing secrets meant to be forgotten. It's Anakin's voice that rattles you from your disjointed thoughts.

"You caused us so much worry angel" he's being nice. You don't trust that. There's something sinister plaguing his words.

"You know Ani, she may cease escaping if you'd cease to spoil her." Maul leans down, gripping your chin and squeezing. " The brat forgets her place, merely cause you'd rather coddle her than discipline her."

Anakin glares, a shift in his eyes, blue bleeding into gold. "Hmm, Maul, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Kenobi right now."

"Why's that? Did the old fool tend to also point out your shortcomings?"

You wonder who this Kenobi is, as you watch the Siths' exchange crude childish vitriols. Maybe he'd make a better lover than the two men you have the misfortune of being adhered to.

They never could truly see just how similar they were.

Two sides of the same coin.

One born of copper, the other, black rose petals.

Subconsciously you reach out. Grasping Anakin's robotic hand, fiddling with the panel, peeling it away to gain access to the wires and circuits. You have a bad habit of ripping things open. Anakin learned this the first time he kissed you and you tried to gnaw at his chest with your nails. Not in malice, but rather to satisfy a ravenous curiosity. A raging need to open him and see just how he ticked. You'd wished to perform an autopsy on his soul. Rip him open and devour all his secrets. Back then you'd wondered if you could kiss sunrises into Anakin's eternal night. Strip him of bleak blackened skies and introduce him to stars and a moon that shines. He'd only vaguely permitted it. Opting to pluck the stars lying within you. Swiping them for steel and lava and other mundane things that fueled his incessant rage.

Anakin's head dips, lips pressing on your jugular vein. "You're ethereal" Anakin mubbles against your skin, like the dying prayer of a collapsing star. He's so pretty when he kisses your neck. Biting away pieces of you. Stealing your light for himself.

"Princess" Maul seethes venom pelting from his words. You realize you'd been ignoring him. Something he's not too fond of. "What in the stars was going through your pretty little head?"

he looks like he'd love nothing more than to wring your pretty little neck right now. "I just..." your words feel heavy. Tiny bullets polluting your tongue. It feels so cruel to say when you know just how much they love you. "I just wanted some freedom. Just a bit of space."

"Dumb little angel" Anakin chastes. You lower your head in embarrassment watching Maul kneel in front of you. He cups your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your head. "You can never escape us beloved".

"I love you," says Anakin. All you hear is, I'll haunt you, I'll break your ribs one by one so that I may possess your heart. Maybe they mean the same thing.

"And I'm pretty sure if Maul could feel normal emotions like everyone else, then he'd love you too." You can't help but let out a giggle as Anakin throws his head back laughing. A rare melodious sound, that causes your heart to skip a beat. Maul merely rolls his eyes before pecking you on the lips.

You trace your fingers across Maul's chest, feeling the pummelling of two hearts. A double heartbeat. Two melodies entwined, You wonder who he harbors in those hearts. One for love and one for family. You nip at his bottom lip. Ushering the blood into your mouth. He tastes of Ichor and smoke. Of sadness and rage. From behind you feel Akanin bite into the hollow of your flesh. Leaving traces of himself upon your skin.

"Our pretty little problem" Anakin mumbles.

You're a problem, a vexation draped in velvet, an unsolvable equation. Trapped between a love that seethes through your body like a toxin. Engulfing you until your mind relents. Maybe it's easier this way. Easier to say 'I love you' without the double entendre.

You do love them.

A rather arduous conclusion to reach.

Maul and Anakin.

Palpatine's apprentices.

Your lovers

Yeah, that sounds about right...

💜💜: @athanasia-day @hotpinkboots @jenn-patterson-69 @nickiiiixoxo-blog @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

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purpleyoonn · 11 months

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baby (you complete us) 9

C H A P T E R N I N E

Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

Chapter Warnings: protective bangtan, anxious mc, not a lot going on

*Words in Italics are spoken/written in Korean*

beta'd/edited by the lovely @babyarmybias

masterlist // chapter 8 // chapter 10

taglist: @imnotlauriane @mageprincess7 @m1sss1mp @0funsite0 @strawberry-moonpies @this-isthe-way @singukieee @btsw1fe @gooooomz @fluffy-canada-pancakes @carolinexkpop @agusfree @sakurarukas @iamkookiesforyou @skyys-universe @toughbook @plutoneu @whisperssuga @welcometomyworld13 @yuzon3 @wittyreader @jnghs @cyd0129 @exfolitae @queen-in-the-shadows @nen-nyy @pandxthings @schniti-is-in-the-house @juju-227592 @jinseartharmysmoon @wooya1224 @ddaeng-angmoh @gratefullygrateful @rorythme @veronawrites @xiusmarshmallow @xicanacorpse @kalala22 @ok-boke @namjoonswaifu @sweetcheeksdna @hyunjingin @promiseokza @mushroom-main @bookluver01 @butterfliesinthenightsky

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @yourleftsock @skyys-universe @cryingpages @strxwbloody @drissteele @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @crushedblackroses @fluffy-canada-pancakes @blaaiissee @iiitsmaria @carolinexkpop @azazel-nyx @strawberry-moonpies @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @knjkitten @foreverweareyoung7 @lachimolala22019 @namuficxs @94z-93 @kimgmzmc @thenaverse @dahliasbouqet @black-rose-29 @tinyoonsblog @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @stellauniverse @stupendouscookiehumanmug @tinyoonsblog @veronawrites @tatyhend @singukieee @m0v3m3ntsblog @exfolitae @butterymin @queen-in-the-shadows @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13 @slinekyu @ghostlyworld @svnbangtansworld @loisje123 @i-have-no-life-charlie @danielle143 @jcrml @softieyn @kyuupidwrites @friedlollipop @lulu-83 @tokiodori

———————————————

Previously on baby (you complete us):

You knew there was no going back at this point.

You knew the bond would take hold and cement the bond in your own soul.

“So, what happens now?” Your words had your soulmates scrambling, everyone talking at once as Namjoon remains silent, trying to remember what his own thoughts were as he held you in his arms.

“Anna, I’m telling you, I thought you were lying this entire time.” Laughter was the only thing you heard on your end, your best friend’s face disappearing from the screen as she bursts out into laughter.

You had called her the second you had gotten back to your hotel, frozen in disbelief at the two meetings you had just sat through, sprung on you unexpectedly once you voiced your acceptance of the bond.

“Now, miss Y/n, we would like to stay on top of things before the government records are leaked, which we are almost certain they will be as the boys’ soulmate status is a constant debate and even more so since we announced our search for you. As such, we have a meeting planned now that the bond has been accepted and you are to be staying in South Korea.” The boys’ manager, Sejin, had announced once he had come to check up on you all in the large room.

You had been in Namjoon and Jimin’s arms for only a couple of minutes, and you were wondering if Sejin was sitting outside just listening to everything going on. You looked to Namjoon, almost instinctually, to see if this was okay. You had accepted the bond only minutes ago and were now being thrust into meetings with HYBE staff.

“Does it have to be now?” Namjoon turned his head to look at Sejin, only to get a soft nod in response. Namjoon could only sigh, knowing and understanding how his managers were by this point.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. But things could get ugly quickly if we wait to have this meeting. We need to figure out a protection detail for you sooner rather than later amongst other things.” Namjoon looked dejected, as did the others. You could only nod, a little out of your element.

Jungkook was the first to get up, holding his hands out for you to take as he helped you off of the couch, making Jimin pout as you left his arms. Jungkook continued to hold your hand as the others got up, lacing his fingers with yours and holding you close.

You didn’t know it, but Jungkook was the rock you needed to keep you grounded as you walked with the boys to the meeting room after getting off of the elevator. His grip on your hand was light but reassuring, a strong presence as you felt like you were gonna fall with your fear of the unknown. You had no idea what was coming, and it scared you.

“Everything will be okay.” His English was low, voice deeper than you expected as he whispered the reassurance. Jungkook could feel your nerves, like they were within his own body. He hated that you felt that way and tried to do what he could to help you feel better.

“I hope so.” You whisper back, bumping your head against his shoulder in thanks. You knew he was trying, and you appreciated it.

When Sejin knocked on the door, and got a reply, he nodded his head and opened the door for you all, giving you a nice smile as you passed by with Jungkook right behind you, hand still holding yours. The second you entered the room, you were met with loud voices, words of congratulations you mentally translate, coming from a number of people in the room all at once.

You jumped a little in surprise, causing some quiet laughter to come from Jimin as he walked in behind Jungkook. You looked at him, blushing in your own embarrassment as he walked by. You knew he wasn’t laughing at you, more like he was laughing out of affection. You don’t know how you knew, but you did.

“Please, come sit!” You looked over to see who spoke but you didn’t recognize the voice, instead you saw a space between Namjoon and Yoongi, and Bang PD gesturing to the seat. You nodded your head and moved to the empty seat, reluctantly letting go of Jungkook’s hand, seeing him sit down on the other side of the table next to Hoseok.

“It is so nice to officially meet you, miss Y/n. We have heard a lot about you and are excited to build a friendship with you. I am Bang Sihyuk and these are my fellow company heads.” You listen as he introduces his fellow company leaders, bowing your head and shaking their hands.

“I wanted to talk with you about the announcement. Namjoon has told us about how you want your public image, or persona, to be handled.” You look to your left at Namjoon, wondering when he had the time to tell the well-known CEO.

“We agree, we don’t think you need to be kept secret for any reason. The boys are humans and their soulmate status doesn’t need to be hidden. We plan on announcing your bond tonight, as early as we can with the hopes that we can stay ahead of the situation and be able to control it.”

“However, we want to know how comfortable you are with what information is released.”

“The meeting was insane, Anna. They wanted to know all of my socials and if I wanted my name to be in the official announcement.” You told your friends, Chris now also in screen as he waves at you. “They even asked me if I wanted access to the official Weverse account so I could do lives.”

“They want you to do lives? But you aren’t an idol?” Anna herself was confused, as she doesn’t really listen to kpop. You’ve gotten her into a couple of groups but she mainly listens for the music.

“Exactly! It was kind of weird but Taehyung jumped in and explained it as like, because the fans would know I’m their soulmate, they would want to get to know me as well. It would feel weird though, doing a live.” You explained, Anna nodding her head as she begins to understand.

“Well damn, my best friend is gonna be famous!” Chris exclaims causing you and Anna both to look at him, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Are you serious?” Anna asks asks Chris in disbelief.

“I’m not famous.” You say, “I am just their soulmate. It’s different. I haven’t done anything to earn the fame or attention.” You try to explain it but Chris is stuck on the fact that he is now going to have people to protect you from, apparently.

“I’m just saying, if you need me to come over there, I’ve got plane tickets ready to go. I just might need someone to bail me out of jail.” He crosses his arms behind his head, sitting back in his seat on the bed as Anna covers her face with her hands, hiding her embarrassment.

“Okay killer, I don’t think I need your protection.” Your sarcasm isn’t heard by his ears though, leaving you to continue. “The boys have actually assigned me my own personal security. His name is Songun; he is the one who met me at the airport and brought me to the hotel. I’m comfortable with him and I like him. He is very nice and funny so I think I’ll be okay.” Anna perks up at your words, happy to know you will be safe all the way across the world, while Chris just shrugs his shoulders, still unsure if you would be truly safe.

“Has your brother met him or the boys yet?” Chris asked. You sigh, knowing the pedestal Chris placed your brother on, with good reason.

Your brother was your protector, and always had been. He and Chris were often a tag team going after bullies or just anyone that they found unworthy of you or your sister’s attention. So, you weren’t at all surprised he wanted to know your brother’s opinion of Seungho or the boys.

“I haven’t called him yet. I was gonna call him after I called you.” You lied, knowing you didn’t want to call your family yet. You had texted your father, letting him know what was going on, but your brother and sister were a whole other thing. You were the youngest, and they were overprotective and liked to treat you like a baby, despite that you were now an adult.

“Okay, well, why don’t we let you go, you look like you’re gonna pass out babes.” Anna cut off Chris the second he started to open his mouth again, patting her hand against his thigh.

You felt like you were seconds from passing out. You had such a long day that you were sure you were gonna sleep for hours. You had used a heating pad that you found in the bathroom on your back, and it felt way too nice to move.

“Okay, well, goodnight then.” You spoke, not even knowing what time it was in California right now, mind too tired to think.

However, when you hung up your phone and laid down in bed, you couldn’t sleep, even a little nap evaded you. You were restless and found yourself unable to let your mind or body relax. You felt out of body now that you were awake and aware of your situation.

You had accepted your soulmates and were moving to South Korea.

You were currently being announced on Weverse as the last soulmate to BTS.

Your life was never going to be the same.

And it unnerved you to your core.

You even debated calling one of the boys, wanting some kind of distraction but you didn’t know if you should or not. You didn’t want to annoy them but you felt like you weren’t going to go to sleep without one of them here, and it made you feel weird.

Why couldn’t you sleep without them when you never had this problem before? Why did your body and mind just… change so significantly as if they were conspiring against you?

-*-*-

You ended up falling asleep watching Boys Over Flowers, one of the first k-dramas you ever watched. You had gotten halfway through episode three before falling asleep, your body scrunched together in a way only you would be comfortable with the way your limbs were. You didn’t know how to explain it, but you needed to be like a pretzel to be able to fall asleep, however, you always woke up with your knee hiked up to your chest while your other leg is straight out and your arms are underneath your head.

This time, however, you didn’t wake up on your own, knee to your chest. You felt something brushing against your face, as if tracing your lips and nose. It was soft and didn’t leave you feeling off, in fact, you leaned into the softness, soon enough a hand was cupping your cheek, giggling coming from in front of you.

“Oh my, you’re so cute.” Jimin whispered as he caressed your cheek, watching as you subconsciously lean into his hand as your slept.

Jimin and Taehyung had shown up to your hotel room, having acquired the extra key from Jin, in order to take you to the Seoul Soulmate registry building to finalize your bond legally so you can live here on a soulmate citizenship. This would give you legality over their estate and help in adding you officially to their bank accounts and everything else that comes with being their soulmate.

They wanted you to have access to everything that they did, no matter your own status. You were their soulmate, and they were going to treat you like it.

Taehyung was worried about you being treated differently, knowing some people still have issues with foreigners in South Korea, even if they were bonded to a native. He hated it and needed to make sure you had all the rights and things that they did, and he would make sure that would happen, everyone else be damned.

He also made sure that Songun was aware of his thoughts, and together they agreed on the way they thought you should be treated, and how to react should someone, anyone, behave differently.

Taehyung was currently texting Namjoon to confirm they had their appointment with their Soulmate Advisor when Jimin started giggling. He moved over to the bed so he could see what his soulmate was giggling over and found your sleepy smile leaning into his palm. Taehyung couldn’t help but to take a picture of you, sending it to Namjoon as he did so.

bangbangbangtan

Tae: *picture attached*

Joon: oh. my. 🥰 she is adorable!

Before he could text back a reply, he heard you groaning a little bit, hearing the bed shuffle around as you moved. He looked back up to see Jimin cooing at you and trying to bring you back into his embrace.

“Nooooo. Five more minutes.” You grumbled out, turning onto your other side and away from the bothersome movement. You were starting to come out of your sleepy state enough to realize you weren’t alone in your room. You freeze and try to listen to them, trying to figure out who it was but inevitably you shoot straight up out of bed and turn around to see Jimin and Taehyung. Just sitting and standing by your side, eyes locked on you with soft smiles on their lips.

“Uhm…how did you get into the room? And uh, what are you doing here?” You felt weirdly violated, having them within your space so suddenly and without notice. Yet, your body was relaxing back into the bed, that feeling of having your space intruded on quickly washing away the second you see their smiles.

Man, you thought, I’m whipped. All they had to do was fucking smile and I’m a goner.

“Jin-hyung gave us the other key and we wanted to take you personally to the Seoul Soulmate Registry to get everything sorted out. And then,” Jimin turned and gestured toward Taehyung as he spoke, “we were hoping you would let us take you out to eat at our favorite Korean BBQ place for lunch?” Jimin looked so hopeful, even clasping his hands together in front of his chest as he brought up his plan for lunch.

You knew then and there, why Jimin seems to get away with so much during Run BTS episodes. All he has to do is breathe and you would do anything for your older soulmate. You couldn’t say no to him, not when you knew the bond was so knew and you were being drawn to them.

“Okay. I’ve always wanted to try Korean BBQ.” You smiled softly at them, still a little sleepy.

Jimin cheers a little at your answer, jumping up and off your bed and excitedly moving over towards your suitcase. You watch him as he picks out your outfit for the day, thankfully choosing one of your oversized sweaters and a pair of long leggings as it was going to be a colder day today.

After you get dressed and pack your bag with all of the necessary documents and your soul bracelet, you follow Jimin and Taehyung outside to the SUV waiting in the underground private parking garage. Songun, unsurprisingly, was in the passenger seat, moving to open the door for you to get into the back seat.

“Good morning Songun.” You greeted the man, a big smile on your lips as he smiles back, nodding his head at you.

“Good morning. You seem a lot happier this morning than yesterday morning? I wonder why that is?” Songun teases you a little bit, knowing exactly why your attitude has changed.

When Songun had brought you back to the hotel, you didn’t say anything the entire time, too worn out from your meetings you didn’t even blink when you got to the hotel, just nodding at him in thanks and walking into the hotel.

“Hm, I wonder.” You grin at him before climbing in after Jimin, Taehyung following you to sit by the door so you were not the first one out. They were all going to be protective over you, their instinct to protect their newest soulmate on the forefront of the delicate and still new bond. Once the bond was settled, their instincts would die down a little, but probably not much.

“Did you sleep well?” Jimin asked you, hoping he said the sentence correctly as he did. He had spent a lot of time, over the years, learning English, but it always seemed to come harder to him than his soulmates.

“I think so? I had trouble falling asleep and was restless. I’m not exactly sure what happened. Maybe it’s because I’m in a new environment.” You thought aloud towards the end, not noticing the look Jimin and Taehyung shared.

The boys knew why you had trouble sleeping, the exact thing happening to them if they didn’t sleep next to their soulmates. But they didn’t say anything. They had a feeling you needed to realize it on your own.

“Well, I hope you can sleep better tonight.” Taehyung replied, giving you a large smile, thinking of his own question for you.

“Now, is there anything you want to do here? Like anything you want to see or a place you want to visit?” He spoke slowly, his own unique drawl keeping your attention on him and not on Jimin, who had chosen that moment to begin holding your hand, playing with your fingers absentmindedly.

You think for a moment, knowing you had a whole list on your phone of things you wanted to do or see while you were here, but you were a little embarrassed by it, not exactly wanting them to see you as weird or dumb for some of the things.

You really wanted to visit Lotte World. You wanted to go shopping in a Daiso, seeing videos of it all the time on tiktok. You wanted to go to a street market and try one of those corndogs that looked so cheesy and good. You had so many “touristy” things you wanted to experience but felt weird telling the people who grew up here what you wanted. You didn’t know why but you felt a little weird and childish.

Seeing your hesitance, Jimin spoke up.

“You said you always wanted to try Korean BBQ?” You nodded your head, thankful for his slight distraction from your discomfort.

“Yeah! I’ve seen lots of videos about it and it always looks so good! We don’t have any Korean BBQ restaurants near where I grew up so I never had an opportunity to go. I really want to try Samgyeopsal and galbi and all the different banchan.” You said excitedly, eyes lighting up as you tried not to butcher the Korean pronunciation of the foods and hoping you remembered the right word for side dishes.

Before Taehyung or Jimin could say anything else, the car was parked and Seungho was opening the door for you behind the clinic. You figured it was a private entrance to evade the numerous cameras always outside the clinic. You also figured you would need to get used to using private entrances sooner or later due to your soulmates’ status.

Songun opened the door for Taehyung, who stepped out and immediately turned around and held his hand out for you to take, helping you out of the car. As he held your hand, and refused to let go of it, Jimin got out and placed his hand on your lower back, a gentle yet protective touch that made you feel safe.

“Let’s go.” Jimin mumbled under his breath, giving you both a nod, Taehyung moving almost immediately. You slightly wondered if they had the rare bond of being able to read each other’s minds, their souls being so close together at creation. It would make sense, with how close they always seem to be.

“Hello, welcome in. What is the name for the appointment?” The man at the front desk speaks to Taehyung, his eyes widening a little before returning to normal. Taehyung notices the change though, however subtle it may have been, smirking a little before answering.

“It should be under Kim.” His tone is deep and low, but you could feel the pride within his soul, that the bond he shared was finally completed.

“Ahh, here it is. The Kim Bond Completion. 9:45.” The man reads off of his computer screen, his eyes moving quickly to you and back to his screen.

He probably read the announcement last night, you thought, seeing the way his eyes kept moving from you and back to his screen. You were becoming uncomfortable, not liking the way the man looked at you but not knowing what to do/ You were frozen in place, hoping he would just tell you where to go so you could sit down and get away from his uncomfortable gaze.

Jimin and Taehyung noticed the interaction, noticed the looks you were being sent and were quick to move to your defense. Jimin stepped closer into you, his chest pressing against your back now, staring down the receptionist while Taehyung narrows his gaze and steps forward until his chest was pressing against the tall counter.

“Are you done here? Can we go sit down?” You could feel the chills going down your spine at his impossibly lower tone. Your face probably matched the receptionist’s, as he quickly nodded, telling you all that you would be called in a couple minutes since you were a high priority case.

You were about to nod and say thank you but you were ushered away by Jimin, who sat you by the wall in the corner, where the only section of three chairs were placed. You sat in the middle, a subconscious decision as Jimin sat to your right, leaving the open seat on the left for Taehyung.

You watched Taehyung exchange a few words with the receptionist but couldn’t see the either of their faces from where you sat, so you could only wonder what made your soulmate come back with a little saunter to his steps.

He sat down, grasping your hand in his and holding it on his lap, caressing the top of your hand with his thumb. It felt nice, domestic even, and you welcomed the wonderful new feeling. Only a couple of seconds later, though, a door to the left of the front desk opened, a taller man with a nice long coat on called out Kim.

You followed your soulmates’ lead and moved towards the door, the nervous feeling beginning to settle in your abdomen as the door to the office closed behind Jimin.

“Hello and good morning! I see we have a bond completion to register.” You were a little surprised that the Soul Doctor spoke in English. You had been nervous and a little afraid that you were going to be unable to understand him with your minimal Korean and stumbling throughout the entire appointment waiting for someone to translate.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon had specifically made the appointment with Dr. Jeon because he spoke English. None of them wanted you to feel left out during such an important appointment for them as a soulgroup.

“Yes, Sir.” You were the one to answer this time, the smiles coming from your soulmates in response were warm as you spoke.

“Alright. Well, before we start, I have taken images from a Mr. Kim showing proof of soulmarks. I will need to take images of your own, to mark down the complete soulmark group for our records. Then, I will need your signature,” Dr. Jeon spoke addressing you, making you nod your head a little to let him know you were listening. “so that the government is able to recognize that you know are accepting this bond fully. It also recognizes that you are aware that you are completing the Kim Bond group.”

“Is that it?” You asked aloud. You thought that there would be more that needed to be done, having heard stories from your friends. You only realized you said this aloud when Jimin and Taehyung laughed, the doctor doing his best to hide his smile.

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. Your soulmates have already come by the previous week to fill out the necessary paperwork for the bond completion and your soulmate citizenship registry. As of today, you are officially considered a member of the Kim Bond and all that entails.”

Shock was an understatement for how you were feeling.

In the States, all soulmates needed to be present for the soulbond registry appointment, and even then, nothing was finalized for a few weeks because different states had different centers and ways of doing things.

In California, your home state, for example, it would take upwards of two weeks just to get an appointment, and then another four to eight weeks for the bond to be legalized and updated within the registry. And it didn’t guarantee any power of attorney or rights to anything of your soulmates. There was an entirely separate department and paperwork needed to fill out to achieve that. Most of the time, you needed to be legally married to your soulmate to achieve this, which is another appointment and wait time.

You were flabbergasted that it took a single appointment and just the signing of your name. The boys had already sent over everything else, without even needing to be in the appointment with you!

You watched as the registrar handed you a huge file folder, physically weighing the older man’s hands down as he handed it to you. You carefully took the folder, opening it up on the desk space in front of you.

The first thing you notice is a small envelope with the word “card” on the front. Opening it up you see a bank card with your name on it. Your eyes widen as you realize what the registrar meant by “and all that entails.” You had access to their bank account!

You immediately start shaking your head, putting the card back in the envelope and pushing it away from you. Jimin can see your shoulders tensing up, refusal in your veins as you look up at them.

“I’m not taking your money.” Your words were final, but they still tried to persuade you.

“Darling, we make more money than we know what to do with. We all share the same bank account, and we’ve always dreamed of being able to take care of each other, to take care of our soulmates. It’s not going to be any different with you.” Jimin started out soft, Taehyung taking over without missing a single beat, making your previous thought about deep bonds being true for the two soulmates.

“We want to take care of you, to give you everything you need. We understand that you don’t want to depend on us, but what is so bad about relying on and letting your soulmates take care of you. With our schedule, it will be hard for you to have a job, especially with all seven of us. We know that.” Taehyung brought up a good point that you didn’t think of, but you refused to budge. However, they could see you were faulting in your stance and decided to lay it on thick.

“Let us provide for our youngest soulmate; let us do our duty as your soulmates and let us provide for you. You once said you always wanted to be an artist if you didn’t have to conform to capitalist design, maybe you could pick that back up? Do what makes you happy while allowing us to do our part and provide.” Jimin pushed every emotion he could through the bond, watching you crumble in the chair.

The group had discussed this before you had come, when they got the confirmation of your plane tickets. They didn’t want you working. They saw how much it took a toll on your body and your disability, and they had the privilege to provide for you and take care of you. They wanted you to enjoy life and everything they could give you. Especially after reading your messages to them. They wanted to give you the world.

They only hoped you would let them.

Jimin’s words tickled a little at the part of your brain that you had pushed away long ago. The part that just wanted to finally relax fully and let yourself be taken care of. You learned a long time ago that despite having family and friends willing to help, you could only really rely on yourself. It was hard, having to come to that idea, that notion that you couldn’t rely on anyone else for what you needed. It made you sorely independent, something that left you pushing your limits with Tylenol as you reacted poorly to the pain medicine your doctor had prescribed you.

You were finally in the position to be taken care of, like you had dreamed, but it was hard to accept it. You didn’t want them to think you were taking advantage of them. That was the last thing you wanted. But here they were, offering to provide everything for you, to let you explore your hobbies and dreams you had to push down in order to make money to survive.

You were given the chance to truly live and love, despite everything else.

Looking up from your lap, Jimin can see you had given in to their whims, that you had taken in their words and accepted them for what they were. Grabbing the folder, Jimin pushed it back towards you, opening it up and gesturing softly for you to keep going through it.

“Can I, um, can I finish looking through it later?” You ask with a whisper. It was like you had fallen in on yourself, and Taehyung thinks they might have pushed you a little too far too quickly.

It was a lot to mentally consider and to accept what they were offering, he knew that. It was scary to let someone else take care of you, giving them that intimate level of power over you, and he only hoped that you would believe that they were worthy of this level of trust you had given to them.

“Of course.” He said, pulling the folder towards himself as he nodded to the registrar.

“Well then, let me know if there is anything else you need. Congratulations Mr. and Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” Jimin helped you up, placing his hand on the small of your back again, letting your body slowly lean into his.

“Let’s go get some food, baby.” Jimin whispered in your ear, his voice soft and so comforting that you feel like you had always been here, always been in his arms. Like you had always been safe and taken care of.

You knew then and there that you would accept letting them take care of you in the ways that they wished, this feeling of safety and care something you needed to hold onto, and trusted them to give, only hoping they would feel the same with towards you.

Next Chapter

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pickypickypeak · 3 months

Text

So I FINALLY got the art of wish book which is so so good and? I’m honestly a little surprised that the only things that got leaked online were the starboy and evil amaya concepts when it’s literally filled with gems? Here’s a few but first let me tell you, the art alone makes it worth it. It’s amazing

THE HAMLET! LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE HAMLET!! Apparently in an early draft Asha and her community had left Rosas and started living hidden in the forest so their wishes could be safe from Magnifico. This hidden place was called “The Hamlet” and it still exists in the final movie, though it’s just a part of Rosas and doesn’t have the original lore. I really hope this trope gets reused for a future Disney movie because it’s a really cool concept!

Live action Valentino??

Some Sakina dump because I love her (also meet Tomás)

Oh and you know the wishing tree in the movie? It’s based on Walt Disney’s own actual wishing tree?? Wtf???

Also there’s a whole 2 pages about Dahlia explaining how much effort and care were put into her creation as a character with a disability. They actually had consultants making sure that ANY form of representation felt authentic and positive. They did not just made the cast multi-ethnic, they actually did their research so that any culture was well portrayed, all the way to the littlest details like textures on their clothing or even each character’s way of greeting.

And about the animation not being fully 2D… Haters conveniently forget mentioning that the movie is expressly made to celebrate both the past AND future of WDAS. Then like it or not, but you can’t possibly celebrate all of Disney without CGI animation. CGI is also Disney. Tangled and Frozen and Moana became instant Disney classics. I would die for a traditional animated movie, but when you put it this way, it makes perfect sense to me that they went with hybrid style for this movie specifically. It just feels right.

Also going through these pages… you just feel the love the producers and animators put in every single reference to older classics. Animation techniques were literally inspired by actual frames from Snow White, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Peter Pan. So were coloring techniques, lighting, cinematography… There was a breathing effort of paying homages to these movies with tremendous talent in them, while also creating something new. So hate on this movie as much as you want, but mind you calling it “AI-made”. It’s not. It’s made by humans.

Oh, and finally, Starboy. Well, yeah, I fell for it. People literally made it all up. There’s zero indication that he was gonna be Asha’s love interest, let alone be the one singing At All Costs instead of Magnifico. From what the book says (there’s literally two short paragraphs about him, before Star comes in) I think they didn’t even have a plot then, they were just exploring ideas and made some brainstorming sketches deciding how Star could have been. Same with evil Amaya! That one pic that leaked of her with Magnifico is all we got. There’s no indication that it was gonna be “a better movie” because there is no plot for that lol

#wish #wish disney #wish 2023 #the art of wish #disney #asha #king magnifico #queen amaya #star wish

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

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Nother idea: Wayne & Eddie coming home from a long ass day, tired & stressed, both of them arriving at their trailer at the same time. Both of them taking a deep breath knowing that they'll have to clean up & prepare dinner but both are exhausted. But when they come in their trailer is sparkling clean. The floors swept & mopped, dirty clothes put into the wash, clean clothes folded neatly on the couch in piles for both Eddie and Wayne. Their trailer smells clean & fresh, they turn towards the kitchen & see Steve humming quietly to himself along with the radio on low as he pulls fresh made supper from the oven, on the counters are baked goods cooling. Wayne & Eddie realizing that Steve not only cleaned up their home but he prepared them easy to reheat meals, cleaned up their space bc he knew they'd be exhausted & both of them like the trailer to be clean, but neither had time. So he did it because they are his family & he loves them & wants them to feel safe and cared for in their new home.

MY LOVE! So I kinda ran with a somewhat different background plot, just because it kind of felt like I needed to show that Steve ain't slackin'. I also moved this one ahead of another request because I needed to write Wayne in a sappy way after chapter 2 of demon Steve. Steve was born to be a housewife with guidance counselor tendencies and I don't make the rules. ENJOY! - Mickala ❤️

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Eddie felt the exhaustion fully hit him as soon as he put his van in park.

He’d been working more overtime over the last month to save up for the down payment on the house he and Steve fell in love with.

The government money helped, but it mostly went to medical bills and a new van when his old one had become government property.

Wayne told him to keep as much of it saved as he could. “You never know what life will throw at ya,” he’d said.

Steve had been working a lot too, but was focusing on his classes at the community college, trying to set up a better future for both of them.

It meant that Eddie was pulling a lot of the financial weight right now, that Wayne was doing as much as he could for them so they could actually save up, but it would all be worth it.

Wayne knocked on his window and he blinked his eyes open again.

When had he even closed them?

Eddie opened the door and stepped out, groaning at the ache in his knee. It still wasn’t 100%, probably never would be as long as he was doing physical labor, and today had been particularly rough at the shop.

“Alright, bud?” Wayne asked him, hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Just tired,” Eddie replied.

“You and me both. Let’s go relax a bit.”

But relaxing wouldn’t be on the table until they fixed dinner and cleaned up a bit and Eddie knew the faucet had been leaking when he left this morning and they didn’t need a leak like that running up the water bill, so he should probably try to fix it before bed.

He let Wayne go in first, as always, knowing he’d take longer going up the porch steps.

He could handle walking just fine most of the time, but stairs were a bitch.

He nearly walked right into Wayne when he walked through the front door, the older man standing stock still right in the entrance.

“Wayne? You good?” Eddie asked, his mind suddenly filtering through any number of terrible reasons for his sudden frozen demeanor.

And then he could smell it.

Cookies.

Someone was baking cookies.

And then he saw it.

The living room was completely cleaned and organized, magazines stacked neatly on the table, no crumbs on the couch or carpet, the weird mud stain from Eddie’s boots no longer on the rug by the front door.

He heard the record player going, though the volume was low enough that he could also hear Steve singing in the kitchen.

“Looks like your boy’s been busy,” Wayne smirked over his shoulder at him.

“I don’t-“ Eddie started to say.

“Eds? Wayne? You guys home?” Steve called from the kitchen.

Before they answered, he walked around the corner with an apron on, his glasses perched on his nose, and a beaming smile on his face.

“I just put the lasagna back in the oven to heat up a bit for you. Had to wait for the cookies to come out,” Steve said as he walked towards them.

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him on the lips quickly, then pulled away to give Wayne a quick side hug.

“I made some lemonade that should be nice and cold by now. You want some?”

Eddie and Wayne blinked at him, surprise at what was happening rendering them speechless.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s tone shifted to concern, the smile dropping from his face as he took in their stillness.

“You cleaned?” Wayne asked.

“And cooked?” Eddie asked.

“And baked?” Wayne added.

“My afternoon class was canceled and Keith said he wouldn’t approve overtime for me, so. I came home?” Steve still looked concerned, like he was waiting for one or both of them to start yelling at him.

“Where’s your car?” Wayne asked.

That was a great question. Eddie just realized it wasn’t in the yard, which was half the reason he’d been shocked to see Steve here at all.

“Oh! Max needed to go to therapy. I was already in the middle of baking so I told her she could just use it as long as she was back by eight.”

“So you’ve been cleaning and baking and cooking all afternoon? For us?” Eddie asked, biting back as much emotion as he could.

He was tired and overwhelmed with love and he knew he would start crying if he didn’t contain some of it.

“I just wanted to take care of you guys and take care of our house. You worked all day and I had some free time to do it,” Steve shrugged.

Wayne collected himself first, moving toward Steve and squeezing his shoulder.

“Thanks, son. You don’t know how much I appreciate ya doin’ all this,” he said, voice slightly choked up.

“It’s no problem, Wayne,” Steve replied, face red.

“Mind if I go grab a shower first?” he asked Eddie.

“Fine with me,” Eddie responded.

Wayne nodded once, smiling at them both, and walked to his room to grab clothes for after his shower.

Steve looked up at Eddie shyly.

“Lasagna will be about 20 more minutes if you wanna grab a drink,” he said quietly.

Eddie smirked.

“Some of that lemonade sounds nice,” he played along, knowing exactly where this was going.

No matter how tired or sore he was, he wouldn’t turn down the chance to get his hands on Steve or have Steve’s hands on him.

Steve led him into the kitchen by his hand, tugging him along as he excitedly explained that he’d found the lemons at a farm stand on his way home from work yesterday and considered using them for a cheesecake, but decided this would be better.

Eddie smiled at him fondly, just happy that Steve is happy.

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait right there,” Steve said, pushing him against the counter gently.

But Eddie didn’t let him pull away yet, fisted his shirt and pulled him against his front.

“Eds!” Steve yelped as they made contact.

“I’m sure the lemonade is perfect, but I want a taste of you first, sugar,” Eddie mumbled, leaning down to press his lips against Steve’s.

Steve melted against him, letting Eddie’s tongue past his lips and letting out a low moan when Eddie’s hands squeezed his ass.

“What’re you doing?” he whispered against Eddie’s lips.

“Touching you,” Eddie answered before kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw.

“Wayne though.”

“He’s already in the shower. We got a few minutes.”

“We can’t do much in a few minutes,” Steve said, trying to stifle another moan as Eddie’s fingers untied his apron and slid to the front of his jeans to undo his button.

“You underestimate how hot it is to see you like a little housewife, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve slapped his arm.

“Not a housewife.”

“No? You sure seemed happy about cleaning up and cooking for me,” Eddie said as he slid his hands into the waistband of Steve’s boxers.

“Eds,” he gasped, but didn’t stop him as he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock.

“Get me out, Stevie. Don’t have much time,” Eddie groaned.

Steve did as he was asked, but still seemed hesitant.

Eddie paused.

“You wanna call it?” he asked.

If Steve truly didn’t want to, he knew what to say to stop, and he knew Eddie would stop, no questions asked.

But he shook his head, biting his lip to contain a whimper as Eddie looked down at their cocks and spit.

“Gotta stay quiet, still. Don’t wanna be caught,” Eddie whispered as he leaned in to kiss him again, keep his mouth preoccupied so he didn’t give them away.

He knew Wayne would be at least another 10 minutes, but they both liked the idea of having to stay quiet and be quick.

And quick it was.

They both came in barely two minutes, Eddie riled up from Steve just being Steve, Steve being riled up at the fact they were doing this in the kitchen.

“I just cleaned this floor, you better not have gotten anything on it,” Steve smirked at Eddie as they buttoned themselves back up.

“Promise I’ll clean it up myself if I did.”

“You better. Gonna go shower next?” Steve tied the apron back up, walking over to the fridge to finally get the lemonade.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sore today. Hot water will help.”

Steve turned to him with a furrowed brow.

“You should’ve said, baby. You need some Motrin or something?”

“Nah, maybe after I eat. Got a dose of you to help,” he winked obnoxiously.

“Alright, keep it in your pants,” Steve said as he poured a glass for Eddie and a glass for Wayne.

“You’re the one who had it out a minute ago!”

Steve just gave him a dead-eyed stare before handing him his lemonade.

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Eddie saluted.

He took a few sips of the lemonade as he walked towards his bedroom to grab clothes.

It was delicious, as he expected.

Just like coming home to Steve every day.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #request #wayne munson #steve's housewife tendencies

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valeskafics · 11 months

Text

“La Petite Mort” - Dark Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Pt. 2 of 2)

a/n: read part one HERE! thank you guys so much for the support with this lil story, i had so much fun sharing it with you! ❤️

Summary: You deal with the fallout of Aemond's confession.

TW: DDNE dark content, HEAVY DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dark themes, kidnapping, gun violence, knife violence, handcuffs, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, tiddy succin

Word Count: 2,780 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“Do you know that I’ve fucking killed for you?”

You look at Aemond, the intense expression in his eye terrifying you. You stand, frozen in place, as he stays buried inside of you. He’s got to be joking, right? There’s no way he can be serious. You laugh nervously, as he pulls out of you, feeling uncomfortably empty as you feel his seed leaking down your thighs.

“You’re so funny, Aem.”

“I’m not joking,” he murmurs in your ear, nipping at your earlobe before whispering, “I promised you our time was coming soon, didn’t I, pretty agent?”

Pretty agent.

You feel as though your blood turns to ice in your veins at his words. It’s him. It’s Aemond. He’s the killer, the one who’s been stalking you, the one you’ve been trying to hunt down. You barely manage to dodge his kiss, shoving him out of the way and slamming the door to your bedroom shut, locking it. You grab the first shirt you can find, which unsurprisingly, is one of his that you sleep in. The thought makes your skin crawl but you put that aside when you hear Aemond calling to you from the other side of the door.

“Come on, baby, open the door,” he coos, his voice saccharine sweet, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fuck you,” you spit angrily, grabbing your gun from your nightstand as you hear Aemond begin banging on the door, “What, you want me to let you in so you can fucking kill me?

“We both know if I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead already. Now open the door, love.”

You shake your head, holding back a scream when he manages to kick it open. Aemond’s pulled his clothes back on and has his own gun drawn, both of you standing, staring each other down. Aemond’s lips quirk up into a smirk.

“You’re not going to shoot me and I’m not going to shoot you, love. So put the gun down and let’s talk.”

You cock your gun, finger on the trigger and shake your head, “You killed all those girls, Aemond. You really don’t think I’ll kill you for that?”

Aemond crosses the room in two long steps, his gaze never wavering as he tosses his gun aside, disarming himself. He raises his hands in surrender as he speaks once more.

“Are you going to shoot me, pretty agent? I’m unarmed.”

You feel your eyes water. You have the power to end this here and now. You have the power to put an end to the violence Aemond has been perpetuating for God knows how long. You swore an oath to uphold your duties as a federal agent, to protect the citizens of your country. By all accounts, that means killing Aemond. He brings your gun to his forehead, looking down the barrel of it into your eyes.

“You can’t do it, can you?” he murmurs, “You love me too much to do it.”

You feel the tears finally begin to fall as you look back at him, unable to just pull the trigger. Because even though he’s a murderer and a monster, he’s still your best friend, the man you care so deeply for, the one constant in your life. The one who’s been there for you through it all. And in your moment of hesitation, Aemond grabs your gun from you, pulling you in by your wrists, holding them in one of his large hands. He reaches for something in his pocket, and before you can even say a word, your world fades to black.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you wake up. But your head aches like crazy, your eyes burning slightly as you sit up. That’s when you feel the metal on your wrists. You try to move your arms and find that you’re not able to go very far. You’re handcuffed to the bed you’re lying in. You let out a growl of frustration and futilely tug at your restraints until the doorknob twists, indicating someone is opening the door. You immediately close your eyes and pretend you’re asleep once again.

“I know you’re awake.”

You refuse to open your eyes until you feel Aemond’s finger tracing the shape of your lips. Then, you look up and glare at him.

“Where the fuck am I?”

“Just a guest room in my apartment,” he says, moving a hand to stroke your hair, “You’ll be safe here, with me.”

“Is anyone safe with you?”

Aemond frowns, “You are.”

You scoff, “You are killing women who look like me, Aemond. Leaving your little notes at each crime scene, fucking terrorizing me. Is it so far off base to think that you want me dead?”

“You’re the last fucking person on this planet I want dead,” he snaps at you, gripping your chin in his hands, “Get that through your thick skull. I love you. Everything I’ve ever done is for you, for us.”

“Why kill them?” you demand, “Huh? Explain that to me!”

“Because you were never going to see me,” he says quietly, “So I decided I’d make it impossible for you not to. Those girls, I’d be nice to them, pretend they were you, take them home, fuck them while pretended it was you. And then? I’d make a gift of them to you, showing you just how far I was willing to go for your love.”

“A gift?” you sneer, “You sick fuck-”

“Language, sweetheart,” he tuts, “And you know something? I think it was a bit fucked up of you to go on that date with your precious Cregan when I was right fucking there the entire time.”

The mention of Cregan stings for a moment before you put two and two together and gasp, looking up at him, “He didn’t ghost me, did he? You- you killed him!”

A smile plays on Aemond’s lips, “Do you really think I was ever going to let anyone else have you? Ever? No, love, I’m the only one who deserves you. The only one who can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Do you understand now?”

“I don’t understand shit, you bastard,” you growl, “And now you have me cuffed to a bed? People are gonna come looking for me-”

“Not for another week,” he taunts, “It was really easy to put in a time off request on your laptop and delete the emails without you even noticing. For a special agent, you are quite bad at choosing passwords, love,” you scowl up at him, making him let out a low chuckle as he murmurs, “You look so fucking cute like this. Tied up. At my mercy.”

“You don’t know the meaning of mercy, considering what you’ve done-”

“Do not,” he cuts you off sharply, pressing a finger to your lips, “Act like you’re not the least bit flattered by what I did. Didn’t you say you wanted a man who was willing to kill for you? To die for you?”

You know what he’s referring to. A late night conversation, back in Quantico, while watching some stupid romcom together. Of course he chooses to twist your words to serve his own sick little agenda. The idea makes you seethe with unadulterated fury as you spit at him. Aemond? He just wipes it off and laughs, telling you that he’ll be right back with some food for you.

When he returns, it’s with a bowl of your favorite cereal. And for a moment, you feel yourself soften at his thoughtfulness, you think of him as your best friend, your Aemond. Then you realize he must’ve been planning this for a long time, abducting you, holding you captive in his home. And your eyes harden toward him again, any hint of affection gone.

“So angry,” he says teasingly, bringing the spoon to your mouth, which you reluctantly eat, your need for food overpowering your anger, “There you are, sweet girl. You know,” he chuckles for a moment, “Sometimes I think about how funny it is that I was able to avoid detection even with the handwritten notes. We truly live in an age of technology. I think the notes may have been your first time even seeing my handwriting.”

“That’s why I couldn’t recognize it,” you grumble, “And you wrote in all capital letters. Made it messier, smudged the ink. You knew exactly what to do, how to get away with it. You used me-”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he snaps at you, his eye narrowing, “I’ve used others. But never you. Don’t you ever say that again.”

“You fucking asshole,” you scoff, “You really think I’m just going to be okay with you being a goddamn serial killer? How fucking delusional-”

He cuts you off with a kiss that’s almost bruising, his hands gripping your hips, and you hate yourself for it, but you kiss him back. A part of you feels like kissing him is the most natural thing in the world, that this is what the two of you were meant to do all this time. But good sense prevails and you bite down hard on his lip, enough to make him bleed. However, Aemond? He merely lets out a low groan, his lips capturing yours again, the copper tang of his blood invading your mouth as he gives you another searing kiss.

You realize that the best way of getting out of this alive is playing into his sick little fantasy. And so, you lose yourself in his kiss, deciding to bide your time and wait for the opportune moment to make your escape. Aemond’s hands travel under the fabric of your shirt, squeezing at your tits, moaning as he feels your nipples harden beneath his fingers, pinching at them, squeezing your soft flesh. He moves to sit on his haunches between your legs, lifting them up over his shoulders as he once again buries his face between your thighs. You remind yourself as he stares up at you that you’re doing this to survive. That you’re not enjoying this. But the truth of the matter is you love how it feels. You love the feeling of the cleft of his nose brushing against your clit, the way he grips your thighs hard enough to bruise, how he laps at your folds like a man starved.

Aemond brings you to the edge not once, but twice before shedding his clothes and fucking you, growling into your ear how he’s going to keep fucking you until you have no desire to fight him anymore, until you surrender completely to your need for him, until your cunt and legs are so sore that you won’t even be able to leave the bed. He pounds into you and you can’t even grab onto his hair or arms for purchase, still handcuffed to the bed, entirely at his mercy. And you hate that you love it. You hate him, but more than that you hate yourself for enjoying what he’s doing to you as he spills himself inside you yet again, pushing his fingers inside you, saying that he doesn’t want you to waste one drop of his cum.

The next few days are spent much the same. Aemond fucks you like his life depends on it, he brings you food, he eventually cuffs your hands together and runs you a bath, washing your hair for you. You hate him, and yet, he’s still your Aemond. He insists to you that he would never hurt you. That all he wants is for you to love him the way he loves you, for you to truly see him in the way he needs you to. That everything he’s ever done is for you.

Every day he asks you if you love him, and every day you give him the same answer. A resounding no. And you know you’re lying. You know a part of you has loved him ever since you met him, a part of you that you simply refused to acknowledge, not wanting to lose your best friend.

And a sick, deplorable part of you, one that you won’t ever admit even to yourself, craves the attention he gives you, is impressed by the fact that he has literally killed for you, wanting to earn your love. But you silence that voice inside of you as best as you can, though it grows louder with every kiss he presses to your lips, every soft smile he gives you as he feeds you.

After four days, you finally get your chance to make your escape. Aemond decides he trusts you enough to uncuff you. You decide not to attack straight away, because you know he’s going to be on guard as he takes the cuffs off. He frowns at the sight of your raw wrists, gently massaging them, apologizing, saying that he had no other choice. You pretend to understand, you smile and tell him that’s okay. He kisses your wrists, his finger moving over your pulse point, smiling to himself.

Aemond allows himself to get comfortable with you, deluded into thinking that you want to be here with him. And maybe you do.

When he sleeps beside you, one arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, you decide that this is the time to strike. You slide out of his grip, walking toward his kitchen, finding the largest, sharpest knife you can among his belongings. You gaze at your reflection in it for a moment, not recognizing the person staring back at you. You shake your head and return, sliding back into bed, feeling him move to hold you again.

That’s when you strike. You move to straddle him, poising the knife to stab him through the throat. And he just stares up at you, unspeaking, unmoving. Just gazing at you with that one blue eye and one white, almost reverently. You hold the tip of the knife to his throat, though not moving, feeling his hands move to hold your thighs in place.

“You’re beautiful.”

It’s a soft whisper, one that cuts you to the bone. And you know in that moment that you can’t kill him. In spite of everything he’s done, every depraved, awful sin he’s committed, you love him. You’re in love with Aemond, both the man and the monster that lurks within his heart. The monster that sought nothing more than to keep you by his side forever. You toss the knife aside and lean down, pressing your lips to his, tears streaming down your face as you do. You make quick work of Aemond’s pajama pants, sliding them down to reveal his cock to you, moving down to sit between his legs, taking him into your mouth. Aemond lets out a moan of your name as you bob your head up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks as he hits the back of your throat. Aemond resists the urge to buck his hips against your mouth, your plush lips wrapped around the base of his cock looking so goddamn pretty. Instead, he lets you set the pace until he’s nearly at his end, when he pulls you off of him.

“I don’t want to cum anywhere other than inside that perfect cunt,” he growls in your ear.

You move to straddle his waist, sinking down onto his cock with a contented sigh. Aemond sits up, his hands moving to your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside as you begin moving up and down on his length, your breasts bouncing as you do, attracting his attention. Your tits are his weakness, he muses, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, nipping at it slightly while his hands go to your hips, helping you along.

“I love you,” you admit as you squeeze around his cock, “I don’t care what you’ve done. I hate myself for it, but I love you.”

Aemond groans as your pussy clenches around his cock, impossibly tight, making him feel like he can hardly even move, “Fuck, baby, I love you too. You know I do. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you.”

He spills himself inside you again, making you moan his name as you fall down against him, exhausted. He holds you tightly, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands.

“I’m a monster,” he admits, “But I’m your monster.”

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes and allowing sleep to claim you once again.

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prettyprettypaci2 · 5 months

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Therapy - Part 6

💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕 Part 5 💕

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much!"

Your heart is racing and you're panting frantically like a puppy. Beads of drool form at the corners of your mouth and you bite your lower lip as your body is overwhelmed with ecstasy. You need more. You'll beg Miss Heather for more. She has to keep going. You've been so good...

"Please..." You whine. "Just one more time..."

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Miss Heather chuckles, leveling her chin and smiling mischievously.

"I'll do anything..." You plead.

Miss Heather considers you with serious eyes, though she doesn't break her smile. You can tell you've won. Your therapist may know how to twist every dial in your mind, but you've learned how to twist a few of hers.

"Okay," she says slowly, opening her bag and reaching inside. "But you can't tell your step-mom. Get me a waffle cone."

You grab the money Miss Heather hands you and race back over to the ice cream truck parked about fifty feet from your picnic table. Your eyes dart across the landscape of colors and textures in the refrigerated trolley, ensnaring you in a dream state. Your pupils are as big as saucers, soaking in the strawberry reds, the minty greens, the enticing purple swirls. You hadn't had ice cream -- or really any appetizing food -- since your step-mom and step-sisters forced you into diapers. You're lucky when you get to eat graham crackers and applesauce.

You settle on a large double-scoop of fudge brownie supreme. Dutifully palming Miss Heather's waffle cone of decadent lemon torte, you thank the uneasy man at the counter and are practically skipping back to your table at the park, both treats in hand. You're used to people looking at you a little funny when you're out and about. They see an adult wearing long sausage curls topped with a pink hairbow the size of a milk bottle. They watch you romp around in furry boots and thick wool socks pulled up to your knees. And of course, they notice your denim dress isn't quite long enough to cover the crinkly companion on your bum.

As you pass a table of young women your age, you overhear them sniggering. A caustic voice says "Oh, look at the ice creams; brown and yellow, just like the diapers!" Your jubilant skipping fumbles into an awkward waddle, and you almost fall over. In your moment of distraction, the tower of brown fudge ice cream tips towards you and smushes into the front of your denim dress. You gasp at the cold, gooey sensation on your chest, and let the cone slip from your hands. It lands in the grass between your furry boots.

"Whoops! Baby had a blowout," a different woman teases, and the table erupts in laughter. You look down at the thick brown smudge on your dress and feel your face get hot. The joy that was bubbling up inside you seems to drain out of your body, literally, as your sagging diaper expands beneath your hips. You've started to pee.

"Oh my GOD!"

"Is this HAPPENING right now?"

"Do we, like, call the cops or something?"

You feel frozen in time and space. The voices are different, but when you close your eyes, the taunting words become those of your step-sisters, Lauren and Olivia. It's all their fault. If they hadn't tormented you...if they hadn't faked your accidents...you wouldn't be having a real one right here in the middle of the park. You wouldn't be wearing this ridiculous hairbow or this dress or...this stupid diaper.

Your gush of pee slows to a tepid trickle, and you reflexively push your thighs together to feel the new girth of your mushy padding. At least you won't leak. You flash back to when Lauren and Olivia had forced you to keep wetting your diaper until it swelled beyond capacity, and you piddled on the carpet like a scared puppy.

MY diapers are soft.

You remember your step-mom locking the bathroom door at night, since that was the only way to keep you from trying to take your diaper off.

MY diapers are convenient.

You remember being grabbed by the pigtails and having your face shoved in your diaper pail, gagging from the acrid odor of your own making.

MY diapers smell so sweet.

You don't remember how you got back to the picnic table where Miss Heather was waiting for you. You must have handed her the yellow waffle cone you had managed to hang onto, because you see it in her hands. It feels like the last minute of your memory simply erased itself. You look forlornly at the grass.

"I've got some stain remover in my desk," Miss Heather says sympathetically. "Always good for emergencies. We'll have you good as new when we get back to the office."

You look up at Miss Heather with glistening, tearful eyes. "I think I need to be punished."

Miss Heather mouths a silent 'oh' and smiles sadly. "It was just an accident. There's no need to worry."

You smother your face with your hand, sweeping aside a bouncy sausage curl. "No, I mean...I wanted to take my diaper off. I still want to take my diaper off. That's against the rules. You should spank me."

Miss Heather reaches over and takes your hand off your face. She folds her fingers over your palm and grips it tightly.

"You're such a brave, brave person," she says. Her voice is comforting and genuine. "I've never known anyone like you. You try so hard to learn and grow. You appreciate the majesty of simple things. You're going to make someone very happy someday."

"Do I make you happy?" The question comes out of your mouth, but it's as if it were someone else's thought. It was so bold and unplanned, you hardly believe you said it. Miss Heather is caught off-guard and you feel her grip on your hand loosen a bit. You don't let go.

"You...I mean...I think I should drive you back soon. We don't want Mr. Kazoo to worry, do we? Why don't you have my ice cream in the car?" You've never heard Miss Heather sound anxious before.

You shift around a bit, feeling your diaper squish against the hard seat of the picnic table. The spring air is already making it cold and clammy against your skin. "I think I need a diaper change before my spanking," you reply matter-of-factly.

Butterflies flood your tummy as Miss Heather's grip on your hand reasserts itself. Whatever vulnerability was there disappears as you remind her why you need her. Why she needs you to need her. You feel safe. She's in charge again.

Miss Heather reaches into her bag and pulls out your giant pink pacifier. Your mouth falls open the moment it appears in her hand. You lick your lips before she slides the rubber nipple between them, pushing it deeply inside you. Your tongue laps at the familiar fullness, and you suckle calmly. Miss Heather hands you the ice cream cone and guides you to your feet, lightly smacking the back of your drooping diaper. You squirm, and feel the butterflies soar.

"Get in the car. Back seat. Now."

🦋🦋🦋

💕 Part 7 and Epilogue 💕

#ab dl diaper #ab dl lifestyle #ab dl mommy #diaper pee #diaper sissy #diaper training #diaper dependent #unpotty training #ab/dl community #diaper bulge #diaper gal #diapered247

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princeofmayonnaise · 1 year

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okay so let me explain. so Neopets.com is run by Netdragon who has a CEO who is an AI and they recently deleted the accounts of Adam and Donna, the literal creators of neopets.com and long story short, the newbie chat on neopets.com has been the general discussion board for like 2 decades despite it being called 'the newbie chat' but one day I refresh the page and they have gentrified our home and it's called 'new to neopets' now and I'm like wat and TNT makes a post announcing there is now an official general chat which people (not me) have been asking for for years and a lot of people are so happy it's back and begin posting away on it but then a day later TNT makes up a brand new rule with no warning that we cannot dare talk about anything not directly neopets.com related on any of the boards anymore including non-neopian food and clothing (if you mention hats they MUST be hats that exist on neopets.com or ur account could literally die. this is an actual example given by a staff member in an email) and they began freezing and silencing people who had posted non neopets related things on a board called 'general discussion' which they never announced or explained the rules for whatsoever, and people only found out the rules because users began posting the warnings they received which actually explained the rules to them and people literally had to email staff to get the rules figured out and then post screenshots for everyone else to see because of course TNT couldn't do that for us themselves and then finally TNT makes an announcement that says no non-neopets talk is allowed on the general chat but then they they start freezing and warning people on the newbie chat too for posts that were made days before the rules changed and this is all because neopets wants to be 100% child friendly now except they are selling neopets.com wine glasses as merch and have held multiple events at bars you obviously have to be 21+ to go to and are encouraging players to go on Reddit, and they made a sorry mommy sorry meme tik tok of their neopets faerie characters on their official neopets.com tik tok oh and also the april fools day joke this year was about this child character from the early 2000s Nick Neopia who used to be this totally radical skater guy but is now a full grown thinly veiled Q-anon-esque conspiracy theorist who ranted about 'the globalist' which is an antisemitic dogwhistle and lets not forget the plot about staff members being brutally murdered either idc if it was years ago and so people are getting frozen and their pets obliterated for asking other players simple questions and yet there has been a board about BDSM up for literal hours while TNT is actively taking down other posts ALSO this was all after both the huge NFT and massive data leak scandals. does this make sense so far? are you following??

#neopets #long post #neotag #discourse #neoboards

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emeritusemeritus · 5 months

Text

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 11

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship} mentions of Snape x Reader.

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Only a few more chapters left to go now. This one hurt my Severus loving heart🖤

It's cold and dark in your mind but your body feels like it's on fire, trapped in an inferno that won't end. You'd scream if you could but you're trapped, rendered silent and frozen as your insides blaze without reprieve. Your suffering continues though you fight through it, ploughing on even with a pain-clouded mind and blurry vision as the blood continues to pour from your body.

You try and focus your eyes upon your opponent, forcing yourself to look harder and be stronger, using what little power you have left to continue to fight.

Nagini is hissing wildly, her huge, thick body roiling on the floor as if she's under the cruciatus curse, pain consuming her. There's a sound emitting from her that sounds ungodly, a mixture between a hiss and a scream that makes you feel as if your own throat is burning through the awful sound. Her body vibrates, continuing to convulse on the floor and you take a moment to back away, stumbling backwards as you slide across the floor, not realising until that moment that you'd fallen to your knees. The sharp rubble slices at your hands but you don't feel it, your mind screaming at you knowing you needed to get a safe distance away.

You fix your wand upon the multiple, horrifying gashes in Nagini's body, leaking both blood and black liquid which had mixed together to form the most grotesque sight you could fathom. The skin around her wounds was quickly turning black and your consciousness was fading in and out though you fought to pull every ounce of strength from yourself to focus. Taking steadying breaths, you think of Severus, the dear friend you had lost, feeling more than ever that you needed him right now.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."

You drag your wand across her skin, watching at the lines on her body heal but not completely. It draws the black liquid out of her slowly, like pulling an invisible thread out and you watch in relief as the wounds begin to lose their black hue.

You were weak, much weaker than you hoped to be and you knew with little consolation that you might not be able to get out of this, your own blood still dripping onto the floor by your feet. Your eyes were closing on their own accord, exhaustion overcoming you no matter how hard you fought.

You dragged your wand over your own skin now, trying desperately to stop the blood flow, seeing the black venom infecting the deep gashes on your arm. The incantation was weak but you managed to draw the black venom out of your arm, just. The wounds were far from closed but the blood flow had slowed and that was all you could do.

It hadn't worked. Nagini was still a snake, not the woman you'd had seen in your mind; nothing you had done had worked. You forced yourself in your last moments to think of your boyfriends, their infectious laughter and gorgeous smiles. A loop of memories played in your mind, a montage of favourite moments together throughout the years. The first time you met, the first kisses, the last kisses and everything in between. They had each other, you reasoned, feeling a slither of peace at that very fact, knowing that whatever happened to you, they wouldn't be alone.

Your eyes briefly opened again upon hearing a haunting sound, a hissing that only increases with volume and intensity, immediately causing you to enter an internal fight or flight reaction though your body was still paralysed with exhaustion. Your mind takes a few moments to realise exactly what is happening as you register the figures of two people nearby, their outlines becoming clearer with each passing moment as your vision cleared, though you couldn't hold your eyes open for long.

Ron and Hermione.

You were encased around the large, wrapped trunk of Nagini's body, though you felt no pressure on your limbs, no constriction. The snake was wildly hissing at Ron and Hermione who were trying to approach you with horrified eyes, their wands fixed upon the snake with conviction. She was protecting you.

"Ron no! If you miss, you'll hit y/n!" Hermione wailes, tugging on his arm which had his wand aimed at Nagini. He looked furious, more angry than you'd ever seen him, a look in his eyes which showed he was out for revenge. The snake hisses in fury at Ron, sensing his intentions and gives a warning snap of it's head, showing the vicious fangs to warn them away. You can only see the side profile but even from your limited view, the blood covered fangs and healed but visible gashes across her body were a terror inducing sight.

Closing your eyes, you tried to connect to Nagini, finding nothing in the darkness behind your eyes. You're exhausted, both mentally and physically but you push harder, searching deeper and further in your mind for any sign of the snake, but there's nothing, the connection had been broken.

You open your eyes, feeling it easier now as the light no longer hurts your eyes, finding strength in the knowledge that something had changed, something must have worked.

You shift slightly, attempting to think of ways to get out of Nagini's hold and almost instantly she senses your movement. You reach blindly for your wand but feel nothing, preparing yourself for the imminent attack, but nothing comes. Instead, she unfurls herself from around you and with one last vicious hiss in Ron and Hermione's direction, she turns to you, watching you carefully as she peels her body away from yours, shifting to lie between you and your friends. You don't break her gaze, eyeing her carefully with the knowledge that she might attack the second you looked away.

You look into her eyes and see the woman staring back at you in your mind, looking frightened and lost, her eyes drawing you in. You feel compelled to explain, though she may not understand and there's no denying that the truth could cause her to attack, the uncertain nature of the serpentine creature only making you more afraid.

"You know don't you, what needs to be done," you say gently, still looking into her eyes. She continues to look at you and there's a momentary pause that passes where she doesn't respond in anyway, making you feel foolish for trying to communicate with the snake. She suddenly shifts her head and you immediately throw up your hand to stop Ron from moving forward as he prepares to lurch towards you, wand still aimed at the snake threateningly, his grip so tight you can see that his fingers have turned white. Her head slowly nods, though it's minuscule in movement.

There's a brief flash of embarrassment you feel at connecting this way with a creature but you sense that she can understand you completely.

"If there was another way," you begin to say but the rest of the words catch in your throat. Truthfully, you didn't know any other way of how to save her, of how to kill the Horcrux inside her without her perishing. Her head sinks to the floor, near your leg and suddenly she doesn't feel like a threat anymore. You sit there for some time, not knowing how to proceed, feeling like you'd reached an impasse.

All it took was a large bang out in the courtyard for the temporary armistice to be broken. Ron ran to the main doors just around the corner to look at what had caused the crash and he looked horrified as he explained with difficulty that Harry and Voldemort were duelling. It had to be now.

You turned to Nagini and noticed almost instantly how her demeanour had changed, her eyes no longer conveying any of the sadness or understanding, but instead looked cold and hardened. Her body had tensed and her tail had curled into her body tighter, all signs of alarming defensiveness. You understood immediately; the Horcrux within her was sensing her master only metres away. She could sense his danger, the treat to his life, which meant that the Horcrux within her, the slither of Voldemort's soul was also in danger.

Time seemed to slow as you realised too late the danger you were in, your proximity to the seemingly possessed snake putting you in imminent peril, especially without a wand. You ran, scrambling away until you backed up towards the wall, looking for some way of hiding, dragging Hermione with you so that she would be safe. It was like the predator in her had awoken, the last semblance of humanity drained from her mind as her body tenses, her body stiffening as she prepared to attack. You were defenceless and Hermione only had mere seconds to adjust to you throwing her back, as Ron leapt forward to protect her before Nagini lunged.

You watched at the snake flew through the air, her mouth wide open and blood soaked mouth hurtling towards you with an unstoppable force. You force yourself to think of your beloved boyfriends a s of your lost friend, desperately clinging to the love you'd received throughout your life as you waited for the attack.

But no pain came. Your eyes had closed on their own accord and you opened them tentatively to see a billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air, clearing slowly to show the figure of Neville, bloodied and panting hard, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands. He'd done it, the very last Horcrux was dead.

Ron and Hermione held on to each other for the longest time, the near death experience pulling them closer together. You looked at Neville and leapt to your feet, throwing your arms around him. He stumbled briefly having not anticipated your embrace but held strong, wrapping his spare arm around you as you hugged him in both celebration and appreciation.

Then, you saw the translucent figure of a woman before you . It was the very same woman you'd seen in your mind, through the connection with Nagini. She was beautiful, the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin looked vibrant once again. The spirit's connection was brief, lingering just long enough for her to nod once at you, bowing her hair before she disappeared. You had done it, her spirit had been freed. The spell, your blood, mixed with hers and the venom really had worked.

You turned to Hermione and Ron, pulling away from Neville and found them to be staring at the exact spot where she hovered only moments ago, clearly having seen exactly what you had.

"Harry."

That one word prompted you all to run around the corridor and out into the courtyard, reminded that Harry was duelling the dark Lord with no assistance. You expected to see a myriad of lights and colour, the two powerful figures mid combat as each opponent fought for what they thought was right. Instead, you found Harry alone, stood in the crumbled courtyard clutching both his wand and the elder wand, staring down at the mythical hallow in amazement. He'd done it. He'd won. You'd all won.

Ron and Hermione ran towards him, embracing with triumphant glory, each of them pleased to be alive after facing their opponent head on. Neville fist bumped the air in celebration and limped quickly off back towards the main building, no doubt alerting the others that Voldemort had been defeated.

You stood alone, feeling suddenly overcome with emotions that you hadn't anticipated, conflicted to your very core. You felt a massive surge of relief of course, wanting nothing more than to celebrate alongside the trio and everyone else. But you felt sad and a little lost. You felt for everyone that had lost their lives in the battle, the damage that had been caused, for little teddy who had lost both of his loving parents in a single night and for Severus, who had died in your arms, a spoil of war.

But then you remembered the tear. The memory he had given you in his last moments. You looked upon the trio once more, seeing them rightfully still embracing and celebrating their win and with one last glance, you slipped back inside the castle and walked straight towards the headmasters office before anyone could stop you. You couldn't wait to get back to Fred and George, to be wrapped in their arms and back with everyone you loved, no longer having to feel fear or doom but this had to be done first, you needed answers and closure from the only person that could give you that.

Approaching the gargoyle staircase, you thought of that night so long ago when you'd slipped in to the castle and confronted Severus about George's injury. You thought of your anger, your resentment and your confusion that your friend and mentor could have done this to the man you loved, particularly as you approached the main doors, remembering how you had barged in the last time.

The office was largely undamaged, with only a few books and glass cases smashed on the floor from the attack. The pensieve pulled out automatically s you stepped further into the room, crossing the threshold with a nervous trepidation that made you pause, pulling the vial out of your pocket and holding it out with shaky hands.

You poured in the tear and watched as it swirled down, a bright white cloud of billowing smoke within the water, drawing you in. You took a deep breath and submerged your face into the tepid water, watching as the cloud parted and dispersed, forming into figures that you recognised immediately. Severus and Dumbledore. They were in the very office your body was suspended in, Dumbledore sat at his desk with Severus stood before him, attempting to walk out.

"Don't ignore me, Severus," Dumbledore says, causing the potions master to pause in the doorway. "We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But should he fail, one should presume the dark Lord will turn to you."

Severus stands resolute, looking upon Dumbledore with a blank expression. "You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It's the only way. Only then will the dark Lord trust you completely."

You watch as Snape's face drops subtly, his eyes expressing a hesitancy and pain that is almost palpable. The vision flickers and you see Snape shushing Harry in what you know to be the astronomy tower before the image of Dumbledore's falling body briefly flickers across your vision, the killing curse uttered by Snape ringing in your ears. The vision then flickers back to their meeting in the office, Dumbledore's weak and tired eyes imploring Severus.

"There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable."

"Must be told what?" Severus' deep baritone voice calls out, a frustration and element of concern in his tone.

The vision suddenly changes again and you watch as Severus enters the broken house you'd recognised from your trip to Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. You watched as he walked across the debris covered landing and caught sight of Lily dead on the floor, the infant Harry wailing in his cot only yards away.

"On the night Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded."

You can feel the affection he felt for Lily with the sound of her name, and then the devastation and pain at discovering her body on the floor in the nursery. It's gut wrenching and crippling to feel everything he felt and you now understood that he had loved her, he had loved Lily Potter.

"When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find, Harry himself." Dumbledore has begun walking down the platform steps in his office, his legs weak and his frame looking frailer than ever as you see his blackened hand, the curse from a Horcrux.

"There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

"So when the time comes," Severus says, squinting at Albus who has reared closer to him now, the tension in the room growing increasingly denser and thick. "The boy must die?"

"Yes."

"You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment," Severus accuses, his tone suddenly much harsher, "you've been raising him like a pig for slaughter."

"Don't tell me now you've grown to care for the boy?"

Then you see him look out of the window, the darkness in the sky only further proof that this was conversation had late at night, in complete secrecy. You watch as Severus casts the patronus charm and a familiar glowing doe whips around the room before exiting through the glass, the illuminated spot fading as it disappears further into the sky.

"And y/n, you have grown to care for her too?" Albus asks. You watch as Severus becomes instantly more defensive, his eyes squinting and mouth opening before closing rather harshly, his chest puffing.

"That is none of your concern," he answers in a deadpan way, his eyes averted to a spot on the wall where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hangs.

"But Severus it is, do you not see that she is involved?"

Snape's head whips round quicker than a flash until he's staring back into Albus' eyes with a fierce glare, though beneath the stare is concern and worry.

Flashes of yourself appear in Snape's memory, a strange thing to have seen memories you yourself had but from the other perspective. You see yourself in your sixth year, singled out in his vision as he watches you work, creating a batch of what you remember to be Sleeping Draught in class. The next memory shows the following week, your meeting in his office, seeing you smile and laugh as his deep chuckle fills your ears. You see as different memories merge together of you working together, annotating his books and transcribing his notes, the visions of you shifting to memories you had never known, of Severus watching you and glancing at you when you weren't paying attention. You can feel a warmth again to these memories, feeling the affection he felt for you, as if you were able to experience it exactly how he had, much like the memories of Lily.

"You said that you would protect her! You said by making her my apprentice it would shield her from his notice!"

"The dark Lord may be unaware of her prowess but I fear her connection to the Weasley's will have attracted the attention of her peers." There's a flash of you, Fred and George sat in the great hall from Snape's perspective at the top table, he sees you laughing and resting your head on Fred's shoulder, though the memory is brief.

"There's little I can do, Severus. They will need her," Albus says with conviction.

The memory shifts again before your eyes and you see Severus sat alone in his office, his corporeal patronus dancing wildly around the room as he binds together pieces of what you recognise to be the Lebetum, the misted glass opened as he summons the doe inside. He thinks of you, your laughter playing like a melody in your own ears and there's a brief moment where you can smell the scent of your hair as you watch the words 'Expecto Dominum Meum' appear across the black device just as you had experienced many times before.

There's a brief memory that flashes and you watch as Severus pulls a book from his bookshelf in what you assume to be his home, followed by him using the book as a glossary as he translates his words whilst writing. The next memory cuts in of you receiving the book from him, his deep voice speaking over the memory that you will need this to translate and transcribe his newest paper, handing you the book of Latin phrases and texts.

"You love her," Albus' voice cuts through and you watch as Dumbledore and Snape are stood on a cliff top somewhere, the exchange between the pair is rife with tension.

"Yes," he says, his deep voice speaking matter of factly.

"You've protected her all you can," Albus says, perhaps slightly gentler now.

"It's not enough," he says, his black sleeved arms wrapping around himself, turning to look out into the distance. You know he's thinking about you, and of Lily, the two women he felt he'd lost, slipping between their fingertips. "It will never be enough." He reaches into his pocket and thrusts the black device of his own creation that he'd pulled from within the folds of his cloak into the older man's wrinkled hands, who gapes at it for a moment, a frown pulling between his eyebrows.

"Severus, you can't possibly," Albus begins speaking but he's cut off when Snape looks up from the Lebetum with an expression you had so often seen, the fixed, harsh stare that told whomever he was speaking to that he would answer no questions nor explain further, his word absolute.

"Until my heart stops beating. With hope, even after."

The memory fades and the smoke like memory disappears into the water until it's no longer visible. You pull out of the water and sink to your knees, sitting on the bottom stone step of the desk platform, gathering your thoughts.

You sobbed uncontrollably, chest and shoulders heaving with the effort as you let every bit of pain consume you, every emotion you'd tried to hold back from the moment you left Bill's wedding and everyone behind in your hunt for the Horcruxes, realising that you had been played like a pawn in a game of wizards chess. You cried for your lost friend, knowing now that he loved you. You cried for everything that could have been, for how he'd protected you the whole way through without knowing, for the pain you felt at being so close but so far away from Fred and George, for the months spent pining for them, for the horrors you'd seen and what you'd been through.

You gasped for breath between your sobs, clutching your arms around yourself as you rocked gently, feeling entirely consumed by pain. You should feel victorious and triumphant, celebrating with everyone else in the castle but you couldn't face it, not when you felt so far away from yourself.

Your thoughts were consumed with Severus and what you'd seen in his memories and you wondered if you'd loved him too. You loved Fred and George, that was evident to everyone around you and to yourself but you'd never considered the piece of your heart that had remained with Severus, realising much too late that you had loved him too. Maybe not in the same way that you did the twins but it was undeniable that there was something there much stronger than friendship alone.

Your sobs had subsided eventually and you sat on the cold stone with a vacant expression, gaze fixed upon an uninteresting spot on the floor. You felt drained in every sense of the word; your mind was slowly going blank, unable to string two solid thoughts together as the mental and emotional strain took its toll on you. Your body felt weak and broken, pain and soreness now evident in your injured body, feeling the full effects of your shoulder injury and the cuts on your arm. You look down at the deep gashes on your arm and begin to slowly peel your jacket away, cringing and wincing as the dried blood around the cuts rips away having connected your jacket to the broken skin.

You cast a healing spell on the cuts but it's weak, knowing that you couldn't perform the correct incantation as much as you wanted to, your body too exhausted and drained. You pondered, just for a moment, the irony of the cuts on your arm. The spell created by your mentor intended to inflict pain for those he hated, but instead inflicted upon the woman he loved to free her from her torment.

You sat for a while thinking of the memories he'd shown you, realising now that all his words had made sense. He'd asked you to forgive him, telling you that one day you'd understand. He'd protected you when you needed it most, provided you with his own guardian in the form of a patronus and saved your life multiple times even from afar. He'd given you all the clues, the biggest of all being the book of Latin phrases, somehow knowing that it would be the key to surviving, putting his faith in your ability to decode it. He'd loved you. He was never a true destheater but had been the bravest man alive to act as a spy for the order, for the sake of everyone who seemingly hated him.

One thing had always bothered you, once singular piece of knowledge that had plagued you since the moment you'd been bequeathed with the Lebetum.

You stood slowly, throwing your jacket back over you to cover the scars and the wounds that littered your body and dusted yourself off, though it was a pointless effort as your clothes and skin were still stained with Severus' blood. You stepped towards the littering of books on the bookcase and tried to find the off-white leather book amongst the rows of text, hoping it was there. It wasn't. It was, however, laid on the desk, already open.

You searched through the glossary of words, alphabetically listed as you turned to the section you needed.

Lebetem, or Lebetum (noun) translates to Cauldron. A large metal pot used for brewing potions over an open fire. Can also refer to a situation characterised by strong emotions.

You felt gobsmacked by the revelation, realising that it was most likely a joke played by Severus, a little twist of humour he'd integrated in the the situation.

You then thought of the translation Mr Ollivander had given you of the text on the device, Expecto Dominum Meum, and his little chuckle when you explained that it was a Lebetum, realising now that it all made sense. He’d recognised you as Snape’s apprentice and had only chuckled when he pieced it all together.

Lebetum, Cauldron, a necessity of brewing potions.

Expecto Dominum Meum, I await my master.

I await my potions master.

You laughed out loud; an honest and very real laugh that you felt hadn't happened in such a long time. You'd been blind to it all this time, his intricacies never failing to amuse and astound you. You felt an immense sense of gratitude erupt from you and though you were naturally devastated that he was no longer here, nor were you able to thank him for everything he'd done, the Lebetum had done the trick to make you feel a little better, giving you humour in a time of sheer upset.

You wanted a shower desperately, a hot cup of tea and the comfort of your loved ones around you. You looked down at the book of Latin translations and smiled, touching your hand to the old pages before you walked away, feeling calmed.

You closed the doors to the office as you exited, casting one last glance at the intricacy of the wood and walked down the staircase, back towards the great hall where you hoped everyone was still gathered.

Bill spotted you first and leapt up from his seat to close the distance between you, pulling you into his chest. The unlikely friendship you'd forged during your time at shell cottage was entirely unexpected but welcome, his ability to make you feel at ease and protected was unparalleled, his role of big brother extending to you.

"Stop scaring me like that," he mutters and you can hear the slight smirk in his voice, making you chuckle. "Told you you were tough, wouldn't find me dead near a snake." You chuckle again and start to snark that Werewolves were fine but not snakes, but you're stopped as you see two near identical and very welcome faces waiting anxiously behind Bill. You pull apart, giving him one last smile before he slips back to sit beside Fleur at the table, allowing you to properly reunite with his brothers.

There's a singular beat that passes where you stand still, looking at them with a trepidation to your gaze. You felt guilty for leaving them alone, to fight your own battles without considering theirs. They both looked disheveled and dirty, eyes dark and tired and for the first time that night you no longer thought of your own exhaustion or torment.

Fred moves first and pulls you in for the tightest embrace he'd ever given, his hand holding your waist close to his body and his left hand cradling your head. He kisses you without abandon, uncaring and unashamed of anyone nearby as your emotion pours into the kiss, a thousand apologies and comforting words said silently between you. A tear falls from your left eye, overwhelmed by your official reconnection but he doesn't miss it, moving his thumb to swipe it away as he pulls his lips away from yours reluctantly, savouring the feel of your lips against his.

"I love you so much," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he begins to rock you gently side to side. "You're never leaving again, you hear me? I can't ever be apart from you again." Another tear slips at his words and all you can do is nod in agreement, blindsided by the emotion and conviction of his words.

"Never again," you reply, reaching out to grab the material of his jacket, feeling as if he'd slip away if you let go. He senses this and presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping aside, allowing George to scoop you up.

Fred and George were different in many ways but it was never more obvious to you than when you were in their arms. George always seemed taller somehow, your head not reaching as far up onto his shoulder as it did with Fred but it was equally as comforting to be pressed into the centre of his chest. His arms caged you and held you tightly, shoulders and breasts smushed against the hard plains of his body but you didn't care.

"Tell me it's over, Angel, please don't leave again."

His voice sounds broken and like a little boys, lost and afraid, a sound that breaks your heart. You pull away firmly, looking up into his gorgeous face.

"I'm staying right here, forever," you say, reaching up to touch his cheek as you lean up, making it clear that you want a kiss. He obliges immediately and kisses you with a passion and intensity you hadn't quite anticipated. His hand find yours and he holds on to you tightly, one large hand grabbed around your back as your right hand stays on his face.

Once the kiss ends, Fred steps back to join you both as both twins grab for you, your small frame between their much larger once's making you feel safe and secure. Eventually you are pulled away by Molly who can't wait any longer and you're smothered by her fussing until Arthur pulls her away with a knowing smile before he embraces you. Each person embraces you as you're passed around the group, feeling every ounce of love they give.

There's a moment where you and Harry look at each other before you embrace, a wordless question about your shared connections to darkness. You shake your head with a smile, telling him that your connection had been severed and he nods his head with the same mirrored look, both of you smiling widely as you realise that it was now just you, no longer plagued by another's emotions or memories. You throw your arms around his neck, both laughing as you finally feel the celebratory mood everyone else felt, now that you were back with the people you loved.

Ginny brought you a hot cup of tea from one of the little reserves that had been set up and you thanked her kindly, taking a seat in between Fred and George, in your rightful place. Instantly, their arms lock you into place with George's arm extending around your back and Fred's large hand covering your thigh, keeping you anchored to them. Everyone was laughing and joking, telling their own stories and as you looked around at your loved ones, though missing one important person; you felt happy.

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nerdpoe · 1 year

Text

To Fail and to Succeed, part 2

Part 1, AO3

been a bit, way too many people to keep track of for tagging, super tired.

~~~~~

Bruce didn’t know what to do.

He was pretty sure he’d just been…altered, somehow, and no matter how hard he pressed the boy’s pulsepoints he could not feel the steady thrum of a beating heart.

Not that it was easy to tell when the kid was sobbing green-tinged tears and clinging to Bruce, Samantha, and Tucker; who had peeled themselves away from the wall to coddle him.

Not that Bruce was above hugging a traumatized teen who clearly needed it, but at that particular moment he really needed to find said kid’s pulse.

So when the door to the basement slammed open, all Bruce could do was make an attempt to hide the kids behind him. It was an attempt that failed, instead all three teens clung harder and the sobbing rose in volume.

Tucker was beginning to hyperventilate.

Bruce glared at the doorway, which beheld a frozen Flash with an equally frozen Nightwing standing behind him.

Bruce subtly nodded his head towards the teens.

‘Help me,’ Bruce mouthed, letting the stress of the situation leak into his expression.

He felt his eyes grow…warmer?

That was concerning.

Was that how it felt for Jason when he-?

No. No, there would be time later for that mental breakdown. At the moment the only ones allowed to break down were the kids; Bruce needed to suck it up and deal with it until the kids were taken care of.

Then he would go home, hug his children, and let Dr. Thompkins run all the tests she needed to, and allow himself a moment or five to…to come to terms.

Great news, he could relate to Jason a bit more.

Bad news, he didn’t think either of them wanted it to be like this.

Nightwing moved first, although with Flash’s speed it didn’t make much of a difference.

Flash appeared at Tucker's side, gently detaching the boy and running him through breathing exercises.

Nightwing appeared at Bruce’s side, and no matter how hard he glared at his eldest the Bludhaven Hero made it a clear priority to take Bruce’s vitals first.

“Do you think you’re a danger to anyone right now?” Nightwing asked softly, worry written in his body by tense shoulders and a slightly-too-hard grasp on Bruce’s jacket.

Oh.

Right.

With everything happening as quick as it had, Bruce had forgotten.

Pit Madness.

He’d been so concerned about Daniel and his friends that he hadn’t even had time to be concerned about side effects.

He took a few deep breaths and allowed himself to take stock of his own mental state and emotions.

He was absolutely on the verge of his own panic attack. He’d had a flashback, earlier, so he would be prone to more for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours or so. His mind was hyperfocusing on external stimuli so that he could not focus on the internal; typical response for himself.

No feelings of rage, no twisting of thoughts unique to the Pit, no desire for violence.

Bruce shook his head.

“No, Nightwing; I don’t think the portal impaired my mind.”

Nightwing’s shoulders dropped slightly, and his hand squeezed Bruce’s arm before he let go and walked around to Samantha.

That left Bruce with Daniel.

“Daniel-” “Danny.”

“Danny, does anywhere hurt? Are you still injured?”

Bright, glowing eyes stared at him, completely lost.

Bruce could relate.

“Danny, are you hurt,” Bruce asked again, giving the boy a little shake.

Pulse or no pulse, the boy was clearly alive. They had to make sure he would stay that way, no matter how strange his method of living was.

Danny seemed to snap out of his stupor and looked down at himself, flexing his fingers and toes.

“It…It still feels a little like I’m being shocked. Other than that, I’m just…really, really tired.”

The kids fingers were shaking, and it was only getting worse the more he thought about what had happened.

“But Mr. Wayne, my pulse, and I’m not breathing, I-”

“You are talking to me,” Bruce interrupted, grabbing Danny’s hands and trapping them between his own, “And I can feel your fingers shaking; you aren’t dead. Something has gone wrong, and you need a doctor, but you aren’t dead.”

Bruce would know.

He’d held dead children before.

Jason’s corpse and Damian’s corpse had felt nothing like Danny.

They hadn’t moved, or cried, or clung to him.

They’d just been still, wet with blood, growing stiffer by the second, and they’d never responded when he’d called their names.

So what if Danny didn’t have a pulse?

He had all other signs of life.

Nightwing’s hand landed on his shoulder and pressed down, anchoring him.

Damn.

He’d nearly gone into his head.

He needed to leave the situation, and he needed to take the kids-all of them, because Samantha and Tucker had just witnessed something no child ever should-and get them out of the basement.

“Mr. Wayne, the batjet is about eight minutes out. We should get everyone and board it when it gets here, we can take you to League-Approved medical personnel-” Danny’s head snapped towards the vigilante, glowing eyes ramping up to a white-hot so fierce the green wasn’t able to be clearly seen anymore.

“No! No, my neighbors! If they see-I can’t-my parents!”

Bruce scrambled to get the teen to calm down, but it was Tucker who succeeded.

“Dude, dude-use my hoodie!”

A large, orange monstrosity was yanked out of an almost-discarded backpack and shoved at Danny. It was ripped, the sleeves were frayed, and the green printed scales were faded.

Danny wasted no time yanking his hands out of Bruce’s and shoving the thing over his head.

“Just pull the hood up, and stay between me and Sam, and, and-we’ll keep you safe!”

Sam nodded fervently, even as her white-knuckled grip on Nightwings other arm never wavered.

Bruce caught on.

“Nightwing, can you have the batjet wait in the park? We’ll take my car.”

Nightwing nodded, removing his hand from Bruce’s shoulder.

Then, in order to keep Bruce’s involvement with the Justice League to a minimum, Bruce’s eldest son took over from there.

“Flash, I need you to go tell Danny’s parents that there’s been an accident, and that the energy readings set off the alarms at HQ. Let them know that the Justice League is handling all medical needs, assess them for…” Nightwing trailed off, motioning just slightly down at Danny.

Flash nodded, understanding the unsaid order.

Assess them for potential criminal conduct.

“What about Jazz?” Samantha asked, finally letting Nightwing go only to transfer her grip to Danny.

Flash tilted his head at Bruce, quietly asking.

“Danny’s sister, Jasmine Fenton. She’s in the library, safe.”

Flash’s head slightly turned towards Danny and back to Bruce.

Bruce gave a slight nod.

Assess her for signs of abuse.

He needed to make sure that the kids would be safe if they were returned to their mad-scientist parents.

“Alright kiddos, let’s get you into Mr. Wayne’s car,” Nightwing corralled the children, gently bullying them into standing up and herding them towards the door.

Bruce stood, and made the mistake of glancing over at the sink.

His reflection stared back at him from the mirror; molten green eyes glared at him from his own face, otherworldly and uncomfortably familiar.

Flash quietly leaned his shoulder against the older man, offering wordless support.

Bruce steadied himself, took a breath, and forced his hands to stop shaking.

Then, he followed.

~~~~~~

Dick was panicking.

He wasn’t letting it show, he couldn’t let it show, but he was.

Bruce, his father in all but law, was displaying the major warning signs of Pit Madness.

Jason was in the jet, and was prepared to assist in restraint if necessary, but the fact that they had to be prepared at all was sickening. The weight of the tranqs he’d shoved into his utility belt tugged at his awareness, forcing him to keep looking back at Bruce.

The only saving grace in the entire situation was that Bruce seemed to be completely in control of his actions.

There was no screaming, or uncontrolled bouts of rage, of any lashing out at all.

Just shock.

The only thing that really seemed to be happening was that Bruce was in no position to lead, not until he’d had time to rest and get treatment.

There would be no Batman swooping in to take charge.

But Dick could do this.

He was the oldest, and just like when Bruce had been lost to time, it was his responsibility to step up and fill the shoes left empty before him.

Nevermind that it had been a colossal failure, that it had driven Tim away and into the arms of Ra’s Al Ghul, that it had changed his relationship with Damian in a way that could never be reverted-

No.

He could do this.

He knew what not to do, so that meant he knew what he should do.

He wasn’t taking over the Batman mantle, he was just taking charge of a bad situation.

So he forced himself to appear as friendly and open as he could, forced himself to smile encouragingly at the teens as he held open the car door for them.

Forced himself to offer the support he wished he was getting to Bruce in the brief moment he placed his father in the passenger seat.

Forced himself to chatter about anything and everything as he drove the car to the park.

Forced himself to be the pillar of support the new meta teen needed as he introduced him to Dr. Thompkins, who they’d effectively kidnapped, much to her displeasure.

Forced himself to-

“Excuse me, Nightwing, could you show me where to change? I don’t know if my clothes are contaminated.”

Bruce’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and steered him to the cordoned off area they’d set up for…just in case Bruce did lose himself to Pit Madness.

It was private, and had a curtain around it.

None of them had wanted to actively see their Father shatter and try to break his own code.

Then, it was just them.

And one arm around his shoulders turned into two arms hugging him close.

Dick didn’t even realize his own arms were coming up and wrapping around Bruce too.

They stood there, Dick taking the comfort he needed and Bruce freely offering it.

“You’re doing so good, chum,” Bruce sighed quietly, stepping back but keeping his grip on Dick’s arms, “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Dick stared into the glowing green of his father’s eyes and tried to believe that.

~~~~~~

Jason was on edge.

The kids were making the pit scream.

Bruce was making the pit cower.

Dickface was on the verge of a panic attack, he could tell.

And he was going to be in so much shit with Dr. Thompkins when everything cleared up.

He’d been on his way back to Crime Alley when he’d gotten the frantic call from Dick that Bruce had been exposed to a Lazarus Pit, that his eyes were glowing in a way that only led to blood from what they knew, that there were kids involved-

So, he’d cut across three lanes of traffic, barged into Leslie’s clinic, hauled her out, and broken every speed limit in Gotham to be on the plane to help.

If anyone could restrain a Lazarus mad Bruce Wayne, it’d be him.

With the help of the Good Doctor’s sedatives, of course.

But Bruce wasn’t displaying any aggressiveness at all.

Which made the pit in Jason’s veins even weirder, because why was it acting scared?

It was just Bruce, dadding it up with Dick behind the curtain where he thought no one would be able to tell.

Yeah, his eyes were glowing. Yeah, they’d turned green. And, yeah, he had a white streak in his hair.

Jason was thinking the white was just the pit he’d taken a dip in getting rid of hair dye, though.

There was no way a man that stressed didn’t have white hair. The old man was totally dyeing it to look full black.

Jason shook his head and focused. He needed to pilot the plane to the Justice League HQ, the Earth one. They could take more extensive tests there, to make sure everything was alright.

He needed to stop hyperfixating on random shit and hyperfixate on what needed to be done.

His stupid brain and it’s stupid fucking trauma could wait.

He forgot to tell everyone to buckle up, though, and could feel Dr. Thompkins glare heating the back of his neck as he pushed the jet to its limit.

He ignored that like he ignored his own mental health.

By waiting until it fixated on something else.

And after a few seconds of more glaring, Dr. Thompkins did indeed turn back to the kid. Daniel or Danny or whatever.

They’d muted their side of the conversation to Bruce the absolute fucking second Dick had said he was compromised, but they’d kept it open on Bruce’s end to hear if he…if he did something he’d never forgive himself for.

Damian, Steph, and Tim had immediately been blocked from all outgoing communications from Bruce’s comm. No one wanted their youngest members to hear what could have been, had Bruce truly lost it.

Oh look, Jason was paying attention to the bad thoughts again.

He forced his thoughts to focus on the radar; their little trip wouldn’t do anyone any good if they clotheslined a passenger jet.

But he could still very much hear what was happening behind him.

Bruce was still whispering reassurances to Dick, and Dick was taking deep, measured breaths.

The goth girl was talking to herself, trying to talk herself down from her own panic attack.

The geeky boy, the one that he just knew would get on with Timberlina, was whispering his own words of encouragement to both the goth girl and the new Meta, bouncing between them as he deemed necessary.

And Dr. Thompkins-

“Okay, so given the lack of a pulse I think it’s safe to assume that a pressure cuff isn’t going to give us much by-way of results,” she said, and somehow managed to make the terrified teen giggle, “And given that you’re talking, moving, and definitely still pass the reflex test, I think it’s safe to assume that you are alive, somehow.”

Her tone was dry as fuck, but that seemed to be what the kid needed.

“So let’s try some things to see if we can find what healthy means for you.”

Thompkins was the best doctor, Jason swore. Cut right through the bullshit and got to the point.

This was probably going to be the kids' new normal.

So they had to find out what meant ‘healthy’ for him.

“Let’s see if you can make yourself breathe. Good. Does it feel natural?”

“Uh, no. It. It kind of hurts.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. I don’t suppose you can force your heart to kickstart itself?”

“I can…try?”

“Don’t push yourself. We’re trying to find what’s normal for you, not what you think should be normal.”

Silence.

Was that little shit really going to ignore-?

Then the plane was filled with a blindingly bright light, and it was only years of training that prevented Jason from accidentally nose-diving the plane.

Instead he threw it on autopilot and turned so fast he heard his neck pop.

Sitting there, looking startled as fuck, was prime Bruce Wayne Adoption Bait, and he looked very much alive.

The kid, with a shaking hand on his chest, only had eyes for Leslie.

“Oh,” he said, “I found my pulse.”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #to fail and to succeed #phanfic

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