wrist weight

I need to stop:
Cutting………..but it makes me numb
Starving……….but I look pretty
Hiding………….but I can’t speak
Everything hurts but that’s ok because I deserve it

chase the dark clouds away

Read on AO3 here!

The first thing Tooru sees when he wakes up his that all-too familiar pair of brown eyes.

He blinks slowly, his vision hazy. He reaches out to the side for his glasses, but they’re not where he usually leaves them on his nightstand.

In fact… his nightstand isn’t where it usually is. What’s going on-

“Hey, Tooru. Here.”

Hajime’s voice interrupts his train of thought, and he looks back up at his face. Tooru doesn’t need his glasses to see his favourite smile in the world. It lights up Hajime’s face, and Tooru nods and accepts them. He presses them up on his face, blinking a few times to get acclimatized.

He looks around at the white walls, white curtains, white bed sheets-

Oh, right.

He’s in the hospital.

He gazes down at his leg, which is wrapped up tightly, elevated up off the bed. It doesn’t hurt, but the dull ache in his arm from the IV is probably to thank for that.

But… it’s okay.

Tooru looks up to see Hajime grinning down at him, standing just beside his bed. His best friend reaches for his hand, and their fingers press together with familiarity.

His hands are warm.

What’s he have to be scared of, when Hajime is right here with him?

“Hey…” Tooru starts, but his throat feels dry and scratchy. He swallows once, and tries again. “Hajime… hi.”

Hajime squeezes his hand. “Hey, sleepyhead. My mom told me you’ve been sleeping since your surgery.” Hajime brushes a hand through Tooru’s hair, which he’s sure is a mess, but the soft touch is welcome. Tooru doesn’t usually let him touch him like this - it’s too embarrassing, too close , too soft - but he’s tired and compliant right now so he doesn’t fight it. Tooru closes his eyes and leans into it, so Hajime repeats the motion, soft and careful. “Have you seen the doctor yet? I should probably go get them-”

“No!” Tooru interrupts, tightening the grip on Hajime’s hand, opening his eyes again. “Don’t leave.” Hajime stares down at him, so Tooru continues. “Just… not yet, okay?”

“Okay.” Hajime offers him a smile. “How are you feeling?”

Keep reading

In response to an ask I got the other day (from someone who followed my original KarmaWG DA account, wowie), I don’t think I could continue the ‘fat camp’ series from my olden days without major tweaking. For one, I was around 15 at the time and didn’t understand how bad the implications were about using that as a theme for a kink series (you won’t be seeing anyone who could even be interpreted as underage on this account!).

But change some things and I could see possibly making a short wg series. Switch Camp Clover to the Clover Fitness Center, where we have Coach Phil, the personal trainer who loves to whip like minded patrons into shape. Round is a shape, isn’t it?

@fineillsignup has a fanfic where Lee and Sakura take after their senseis and become Eternal Rivals 2.0. I love this idea so freaking much, so of course I have to draw it! So here they are, doing thousand laps around the village or something. (wearing shoddy-looking wrist weights…)

(The only thing that bugs me about this one is that they don’t look like they’re running fast. I guess it’s because they’re running properly, and not doing the standard “Naruto-run”…. I mean. They’re using their arms for God’s sake, what kinda amateur ninja are these two?)

Not To Be ; J. Yoonoh

➮ for: jaehyun’s biceps

➮ words: 1.1k

➮ genre: romantic, soulmate

➮ summary: the world is filled with soulmates, their names inked into their skin from birth, but what happens to one student when she tries to cover up that she doesn’t have one like everyone else.

request ➮ masterlist

The swirly letters of F/N’s tatto was so enticing to Y/N. The letters formed Joshua along the length of her right forearm, evoking jealousy in her for not having one similar. Well, she didn’t even have one, that was the frightening thing.

What had she done in a past life to be deemed unworthy of a soulmate? Even if they had passed it should have still been there, to taunt her into oblivion, but she had never heard of anything like this. Not having a soulmate.

“Y/N?” her friend called, returning Y/N’s attention back to reality as she smiled sweetly, repeating her question. “I’ve never seen your tattoo, can I see it?” she asked, and Y/N instantly nodded, forgetting the dilemma in her answer.

“Uh, yes, but I actually need to go to the bathroom really bad so I’ll be right back to show you!” she exclaimed, flying out of her chair and to the bathroom with her backpack.

The stench of the Sharpie wafted into her nose as she uncapped the black marker, writing thickly onto her hip the first name she could think of Jaehyun. She was surprised by the name, but couldn’t think much more on it. Rushing out of the bathroom, she went to her friend producing her hip.

“Do you smell that?” she asked, but Y/N quickly dismissed it with a laugh, knowing she was referring to the Sharpie. “Wow! Y/N, it’s beautiful. A bit clumsy, but its soft, like you,” she grinned, making her chuckle nervously.

She noticed a boy pacing back and forth in front of her, watching him look at his wrist, and then back to her. It happened a few more times before it really began to unnerve Y/N.

“F/N, that guy over there keeps looking this way,” she whispered to her, trying not to make eye contact with him as she leaned forward to whisper to her.

“Really?” she gasped, turning around immediately.

“F/N!” Y/N hissed, turning back around with a knowing look.

“I bet he’s your soulmate,” she grinned smugly. “I’ll even place money on it, twenty won.”

“You’re on because I’m sure he’s not, and if he doesn’t come over here, I win as well.”


The boy breathed in deeply, turning as if he were leaving, Y/N watched as his muscles tensed, and he turned back heading towards their table in the cafe. Y/N groaned, at the moment trying to look away until he leaned against the table, a soft squeak emitting from F/N. Y/N looked up to see he was looking straight at her, his left hand holding his weight, his wrist turned away from her while his other rested on his hip.

“Hello,” he whispered, his voice raspy as if he just couldn’t get the words out.

“Hello? Did you need something?” Y/N asked.

His cheeks turned red and his adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re Y/N, right?”  he asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, why?“

“I’m Jaehyun,” he turned his wrist so she could see his tattoo, “and I think you’re my soulmate.”

Y/N then passed out.

Jaehyun  was a really sweet boy. He had cool friends, and loved singing and dancing. He was really good at basketball, and could even speak English. He thought Y/N was the most magnificent thing in the whole world, and all she could think about was how she’d tricked this poor boy into thinking that she was the one for him.

He would try to spend as much time with her as he could, and she felt guiltier with every hour that passed. He tried his hardest to get to know her, and she tried to keep the facade that she was just who he thought she was. The days were growing longer, and everyday the ink stained her skin darker. Somedays, she hoped it would make its way into her bloodstream and poison her, so he wouldn’t have to suffer because of her.

Y/N wished she wasn’t suffering any longer.

That day was a sunny saturday, the two had spent it together at the park wearing big sunglasses, and eating sandwiches as they talked to each other. She twiddled her thumbs in anxiousness, she knew she had to tell him. It had been a month, and she didn’t feel any better for the trickery.

“We need to talk,” the two said together. She knew he would say something sappy if she let him go first, so she needed to stop him before he proposed or something silly.

“Please, let me,” she begged, he couldn’t argue with those doe eyes of hers and nodded his head, allowing her to continue. She sighed in relief, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this,” she whispered, looking away from his thoughtful gaze. “Somehow, by chance, it happened. My friend from college was talking about her soulmate, and showed me her tattoo. It was pretty and I was jealous. When she asked if I had one, I rushed into the bathroom and marked down with a Sharpie some name that came into my head.”

She looked back to him with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you just assumed we were meant to be, and I just handed you some fake feelings. Not from me! I’ve grown to really like you, but us being meant for each other is a lie. I’m so sorry, I hope you can-”

She was cut off, his lips on hers, and she could feel a small grin on her face as he held her cheeks in between his palms, rubbing circles on her cheeks until he pulled away with a goofy grin.

“Thank goodness!” he proclaimed, raising his hands. “I need to admit something to you,” he started, she watched him with a glazed look and he waited a moment before it disappeared. “I don’t have a soulmate either,” he whispered.


“I saw you at that cafe, you were so pretty, your hair highlighted by the lights, and your face so beautiful by the ethereal glow. You looked like an angel. I just wanted you to be mine, and when you came out saying your soulmate was Yoonoh, well Ijust had to take my chance. My name isn’t even Jaehyun, that’s just my nickname. I’d overheard your name and scribbled it with pen onto my wrist.”

Y/N stared at him in amazement, he was the exact same as her, she was so relieved. She didn’t want to be heartbroken for the rest of her life while everyone else around her was in love. She smiled wide, before asking.

“So, what’s your real name?”

He chuckled softly, “Yoonoh.”

“Oh, how pretty.” He grinned sheepishly, ducking his head. “You know, the universe may not have put us together, but I’m glad we put ourselves together. I think that’s even more romantic than any soulmate can say.”

anonymous asked:

Hello Brenda, do you know where i can find the body measurements of the members from the ynwa program book? They have height, weight, wrist size, shoe size, fingers size etc. I've been looking through your archives but i found nothing. Thank you so much for your help

hey anon! sorry that i’m not much help anon but i could only find a snippet of jungkook and taehyung’s body measurements on twt and a list of their wrist sizes and weights )): 


Day 2 prompt: Fear
Find it in AO3 too! Enjoy!

Nightmares don’t happen often, but when they do, they leave her breathless and queasy, usually coated in sweat with her hands shaking as they fist the covers of her bed.

She can count the number of times that she’s had nightmares on one hand they happen so infrequently, but for the past year they’ve grown to haunt her at least twice a month, and they’re wrecking havoc on her peace of mind. Thanks to her past experiences in the feudal era, she can no longer tolerate the dark, even having to go so far as to sleep with her lamp on.

Three days in darkness had had enough of an effect on her to traumatize her, or so it seems. This time, the nightmare that has pushed her over the edge has left a prickling fear dancing behind her eyelids and crawling just below the surface of her skin, festering into an almost full-blown panic that leaves her teary-eyed.

Her soul calls out for him, her eyes almost scanning her bedroom for a familiar head of white hair that she knows won’t be there, her chest feeling achingly hollow as she swallows her hiccups and angrily swipes the hot tears from her flushed face. She doesn’t know why her heart must be so cruel; her head knows that he’s not here, that she’ll never see him again, and her soul feels like it’s breaking as she takes in a few shuddering breaths to try and calm herself.

She settles herself back into her empty bed, wrapping herself around her pillow, needing the supportive arms that she knows so well and fears that she will soon forget with time.

It’s a poor substitute for red fabric.


He fell out of a tree. Fantastic.

So this is what rock bottom looks like. It hurts his back, he thinks as his breath returns to his lungs.

InuYasha blinks stupidly up at the night sky, the stars spread out above him the only witnesses to his downfall. He throws his arm over his eyes and scowls into the fabric of his robe, unable to comprehend his own moronic behavior.

If he hadn’t experienced it firsthand he would never believe it. Who’s stupid enough to not only fall asleep in a tree (something he’s been doing since childhood), but allow a stupid nightmare to compromise their station enough to flail over the side and down into the unforgiving earth below?

But it had seemed so real. It had felt that way because it was real; it had happened, and his mind won’t ever allow him to forget the look on her face as the darkness swallowed her whole, his hand unable to connect with her outstretched one, the panic still making his heart pound in his chest.

He fights the urge to sit up and search for her dozing form nearby, to reassure himself that she is alright, knowing good and well that she’s not there. Echoes of her voice still ring in his ears, phantom touches of her hands lingering like a ghost, hovering oppressively as he pulls her face to the forefront of his mind to help soothe his ruffled feathers and calm his fears.

He can hear her voice chastising him, fussing over him and insisting that if he didn’t watch it, he’d space out and walk over a cliff one of these days.

He smiles wryly, trying his best to ignore the warm wetness leaking from beneath the red fabric that shields his eyes from the knowing heavens above.

Some secrets he’d like to keep to himself.


She sits up with a gasp, chest heaving and throat tight, hands clenching the sheets in her tight fists, swallowing a sob as her heart calls out for him again, her mind already at the front of the line to reason with her, to coldly remind her that he’s not here, to not even bother looking for him.

Except that this time, he is here.

Or more accurately, she’s here. A rough hand tenderly wraps around her wrist, dispelling the weight of her nightmares with the brush of his fingers against her skin, amber eyes blinking away sleep as he sits up beside her with immediate concern, taking in her appearance with a sweeping glance and immediately pulling her into his lap without words.

She holds him to her tightly, still unable to believe that any of what had transpired just a few hours ago had even happened, and allows her tears to soak the crimson cloth that she clutches in her grasp. He’s here. He’s here with her, he’s real, and her chest feels full as she murmurs his name to him softly, trembles against him as he strokes her hair and keeps her near.


He rolls over in the morning, arms reaching out to connect to warm flesh, only to have his eyes shooting open at the sensation of cool, empty bedding beside him.

Had it been a dream?

InuYasha sits up in a flash, golden eyes sweeping the hut only to find in unoccupied, panic already pulling him to his feet as fear begins to pump adrenaline through his veins. He can smell her, he’s sure of it, but he’s been fooled by that trick before, back when the slightest wiff of anything nostalgic had him turning his head every which way, his nose in the air and sharp eyes scanning the vicinity.

He’s never slept this late or this soundly, but he’d been up most of the night just staring at her, drinking in the sight of her before him, sleeping so peacefully, the aching void within him no longer so hollow as he’d settled himself down beside her, not wishing to be apart from her ever again.

Or so he’d thought. His mind must have teamed up with his sad little broken heart. They’re out to get him, it seems.

He sighs and flops back down among the bedding, disappointment already welling up inside of him, coming to terms with the fact that it must have been a dream, when a strong breeze sweeps in through the window, washing the scent of her over him, bathing him in the smell that he’s missed these past few years, his eyes snapping open as he realizes that it’s coming from the bedding beside him and his own clothes.

He sits up, hazy memories of soothing her in the night flashing before him, and he scrambles to his feet, grabbing his sword by the door and blinking in the bright sunlight. It was real. His mind isn’t playing tricks on him, his heart isn’t cruel, and his senses aren’t going haywire.

His breath catches at the sight of her sitting upon a log, holding Miroku and Sango’s baby while the twins make flower crowns beside her in the grass. She catches his wide-eyed gaze and smiles, and he feels the cold thaw into warmth, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slowly makes his way toward them.

Fear is a real thing, but it has no hold on him today.

I’ve Been There

A/N: A request where the reader is kidnapped by the unsub and given the same drug Reid was given when he was taken by Tobias Henkel. After a little fast forward, Reid notices the same changes in her that he had and talks to her about it. @coveofmemories

Warnings: Drug addiction, seizures


She was his best friend. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. 

But what if they were too late? 

“We have to make it,” Spencer mumbled under his breath. “Hotch, step on it!”

“I’m going as fast as I can without losing control of the car, Reid!” he yelled back. They were weaving through traffic, watching as cars and vans alike veered off to the sides of the road as if they were forced to do so by some supernatural force.

It wasn’t going to be fast enough. They had the trace. They knew who he was. They knew she was still alive. But she wasn’t going to be for much longer. If she died, he’d never forgive himself. A tear rolled down his cheek as he gripped the leather seat so tightly that his nails broke the material. “Kid, we’re gonna get to her,” Morgan said, placing his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” he mumbled, bringing his hand, knuckles still white, up to cover his quivering lip. “If we don’t get to her in time…”

“We will,” Morgan said again. Reid wished he could believe Morgan, but everything in his brain was screaming at him that they were going to be too late and this was all his fault.

As they pulled up to the warehouse, they split up into pairs, entering from all different angles. Morgan and Reid were the closest. “I’ll go first,” Morgan whispered. Reid opened his mouth to protest; he wanted the first shot at this bastard. But that was exactly why Morgan needed to be the first one in. 

Gently but quickly, he pushed the door open. “Step away!” he yelled. “Put the needle down!” But it was too late; he had pushed the plunger just as they’d walked in the door. 

“No!” Reid yelled, falling to his knees at her side and fearing the worst. As he picked up the bottle, he saw what it was; he knew it all too well. When he pressed his fingers to her neck, she still had a pulse, but they needed to get her to a hospital immediately.

Before collapsing at her side, Reid had dropped his gun. As the rage coursed through him, he felt himself reaching for it. Ready to pull the trigger. “Reid!” Morgan bellowed. “Take her and leave! I have him!”

He kicked his gun back toward Morgan, not trusting himself to spare the man’s life before picking up Y/N and carrying her out of the warehouse just as the ambulance showed up. “I’m coming with you,” he told the EMT. “She’s my best friend.”

“We need to go now,” the man said. “Let’s go.”  


She wouldn’t have made it another 30 minutes at the rate he’d been drugging and beating her. It was a miracle she’d made it as it was. After ensuring that the drugs were out of her system, she’d been released from the hospital. He hadn’t heard from her in a week. “Y/N?” he called, rapping on the door to her apartment. Granted, it made sense for people to withdraw after trauma, but from what he could tell, she withdrew from everyone. Extreme social isolation was an effect of the drug she’d been given - he knew firsthand. To be alone for this long wasn’t good for her either. “It’s Spencer. Please let me in.”

“What is it?” she yelled, opening the door with such speed that the breeze knocked his hair into his eyes. “What do you want Spencer?”

He swallowed hard. The woman in front of him wasn’t the woman he knew. Her skin was pallid and drawn, her eyes sunken in her head. Those beautiful eyes that held a thousand memories were devoid of anything. Even in the week since she’d been taken, she’d lost weight. Her wrists looked impossibly thin. Her skin was damp with sweat, but yet she was still wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Never in a million years did he imagine his best friend - the woman he loved - would end up addicted to dilaudid. But all the signs were there. “You shouldn’t be alone,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Y/N?”

It was as if she wasn’t paying attention. “Y/N?”

“What?” she snapped, turning away from the door and walking into her apartment. “I have such a headache. Tell me whatever you need to tell me and go.”

Spencer was about to tell her he could see the signs. He was more positive of her addiction than anything he’d ever known. But just as he opened his mouth, she collapsed, nearly hitting her head on the table as her body convulsed uncontrollably. “Y/N!” he screamed, falling to her side and grabbing hold of her head. “It’s okay…It’s gonna be okay. I’m here.” 

As he cradled her head in his lap, he dialed 911. “My friend is having a seizure!” he yelled into the phone. “Please! Help her!” He looked down just as her eyes began to roll back. 

The operator confirmed her address and told him what to do to keep her comfortable, but he already knew how to do that. What he didn’t know was how to do was help when it ended. After the shaking and tremors subsided, how was he supposed to help her get back to the person she used to be?


He felt something squeeze his palm. “Y/N,” he said, looking up, hopeful that she’d be okay following such an intense seizure. “You’re okay…”

She closed her eyes, swallowing back a sob as the walls of tears streamed down her face. “No…I’m not…”

“I know,” he said, taking his other hand and enveloping her entire plan. “I know you’re not…but you’re alive. And you’re not alone.”

In the past, he’d told her about the night he’d been taken by Tobias Henkel and drugged. How he always assumed he was the last person that could or would get addicted to drugs. How scared he’d been every time the plunger was pushed down. Would he ever wake up again? How after he got home, he suddenly found himself roaming the streets looking for someone who could sell him what he needed. She’d never understood any of it. Had always looked at him in awe. But now she knew. As their eyes met, a look of solidarity passed between them. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said, squeezing his hand again.

“It’s okay. I know why. I’ve been there,” he said. “And I’m going to be with you for every step of the recovery process. If you want me to be here during the withdrawals, I’m here.” 

She attempted to push off of the hospital bed. Find some leverage to sit up. But between the drugs and the seizure, she was too weak, so Spencer stood up and placed his hands under her arms to prop her up. “Why would you do that for me?” she asked. “I was so mean…and you’ve been through this before. You shouldn’t have to do this again.”

“I’d do it for you because I love you,” he said, the word spilling out of him like water over a waterfall. “I love you, Y/N…I always have.”

With a choked sob, she brought her hand to her mouth. “I love you too…When…When he had me, you were the only reason I kept fighting. I didn’t want to die without telling you…”

“I know,” he breathed, the tears falling from his eyes as he came to sit by her side. “I know.”

Something Sweet

As requested by @waterlilyinclearwater for the never-ending Drabble Games.

“A combination of 22 and 39 and Fili x reader, fluff but no smut please, if you’re still taking these.  Lol I feel like I’m ordering something at Starbucks.”

Fili x Reader: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice” and “Hey! I was gonna eat that!“
Warnings: A double double venti fluff topped with whipped cream, hold the smut. Post-BOTFA.
Word Count: 1547

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” You stalked your target, eyes going feral. You licked your lips and let your voice drop to dangerous new lows, hands falling to the table with a loud bang, “Don’t deny it, you tease.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

1. The fourth time they meet, she is dying. After the arrival of The Book (in her mind, it is always capitalized – The Book that set off the chain reaction leading to her curse’s downfall), King Henry and his soldiers had not hunted her down at her farm. Instead, her days had become slightly monotonous, and as time went on she became complacent. The townsfolk had left her alone, and life was moving forwards at a brisk pace.

She had just finished her chores for the day, returning to the house to make dinner before collapsing into bed, when a high-pitched giggle interrupted her thoughts. ‘It took me a while to find you, dearie,’ Rumple cooed behind her, and the world had gone dark. When she awoke, it was to the gloom of his dungeon and the powerlessness of a magic-restraining bracelet.

This world’s Rumple is far more unhinged then she had ever dealt with before – it is as if seeing the actual proof of Belle’s death has snapped his last link to humanity. He is angry, so angry, and wants someone to pay. And pay she does, day after day. He knows she is not this realm’s Queen, but he just doesn’t care. After the last session, she is thrown back in her cell, where she can barely drag herself onto the mattress on the floor.

Rumple’s face peers down at her. ‘It’s almost too bad,’ he smirks, inspecting his handiwork. ‘I was hoping to give you a slow death, like my Belle endured. But my success here today – well, I don’t think I want to undo this. It’s just too perfect. And I’m sure it will be a painful enough death for my purposes.’ She gasps as one of his fingers presses hard into a wound in her abdomen. ‘I’ll be back later to watch the end, dearie,’ he snarls, and then she is alone.

She doesn’t know how much time passes. Pain threatens to overwhelm her brain, and she has to concentrate hard to remind herself: breathe in, breathe out. The cell is dark enough that she barely knows if she can still see or not, bar the light glinting from underneath the door. She turns her head that way, staring transfixed at the one sunbeam that dares enter her prison. Her hands clutch at the wounds across her stomach, and she can feel them become wet and warm with blood.

She must have lost consciousness at some point, because the next thing she registers is an angry commotion from somewhere on the other side of the door. Loud voices are shouting at each other, and above it all comes the Dark One’s distinct shriek. ‘We have him captured, You Majesty!’ someone calls out. ‘Excellent,’ a familiar voice sounds, but she can’t focus enough to place it. ‘Blue, take your army with half my men and make sure he gets properly locked away back in his cell.’

The voice continues, and she strains to hear what is being said. Her breath is starting to stutter. ‘Dark One, you won’t be escaping to wreak havoc on my people for the rest of your miserable life; we’ve made some improvements to your “home” from last time.’ Rumple voice is muffled, as if something has been placed in his mouth, but some curses filter through. ‘Take him away,’ the mystery person orders. ‘We’ll search the rest of this place for his poor prisoners.’

Numbness has set into half her body now, and her hands no longer have the power even to try and staunch the blood flow. Noises carry on in the background, but she doesn’t have the energy to care anymore. Suddenly, the door to her cell crashes open, and she winces against the abrupt surge of light. ‘I’ve got this one – help the rest!’ the voice calls. She can’t remember where she is any more. What happened to her? Where’s her family? Were they fighting someone?

‘You!’ the voice exclaims, and sudden Henry’s face comes into focus. She sobs weakly in relief. ‘Henry,’ she whispers, digging deep inside herself to find the energy to lift her hand and grasp at his. His hand is so much larger now than she remembers. It seems only yesterday that she was teaching him how to walk, his little fingers gripping tightly to her as he toddled about on unsteady legs. ‘Henry darling, don’t be afraid. Emma is going to be here for you, and Snow and David too.’

She feels him kneel down, his fingers curling tentatively against hers. ‘What do you mean?’ he asks softly, and she moves her other hand slowly to pat his cheek. She accidentally leaves a streak of red on his pale face, but can’t bring herself to care if this is going to be the last time she sees him. ‘Your family is going to look after you,’ she reassures him. ‘I’m sure even Zelena will be there. And-and you talk to Archie if you need to, OK? OK?’ He frowns, but nods at her insistence.

‘I want you to know that I love you very much,’ she manages to continue. ‘Being your mom was the best thing that ever happened to me.’ It is too difficult to speak after that, and she closes her eyes against the pain, her hand going limp in his grasp. She can hear his heavy breathing beside her, but she’s relieved that he’s managing to hold himself together well. She hopes Emma or Snow will arrive soon, to take care of him.

Suddenly, she feels fingers scrabbling against her wrist. A weight lifts off her arm, and she can feel her magic surging through her again. ‘Heal yourself,’ she hears Henry demand. ‘You can do that, right?’ She doesn’t have the heart to tell him healing demands energy she no longer has. But then she feels his grip tighten on her hand, and it’s as if he’s sharing power and the will to fight. She takes as deep a breath as she can, and tries to find the strength she needs.

After a few moments, white light flickers feebly at her fingertips. It is not much, but enough for her to channel into the deepest wounds, trying to heal the broken parts of her body that are threatening her life. Eventually she stops, worn out completely. Breathing comes easier, and with it the fog lifts from her brain. She is in the Dark One’s dungeon, and she almost died. But it is all going to be alright now – Henry has come for her. But then, how did he manage to find this realm?

She turns her eyes back to her son’s face, knowing the truth but not wanting to accept it. As soon as recognition shows in her expression, King Henry lets go and leans back. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you in here,’ he says, rubbing his brow with his forearm, his hands covered in her blood. He unhooks a leather flask from his belt, and pushes it towards her, before standing up and turning towards the door. She wants to ask him why he wanted her to survive, but her voice catches in her throat.

‘I’m going to help my men with the other prisoners,’ he tells her, still facing the door. He sounds too grown up for his age, too much like a King. ‘When we return to this cell, it’s best if you were gone.’ He leaves, and she takes a shaky sip of water from the flask. Luckily, her home is stocked up with medicine and bandages, if only she can get there in one piece. Bracing herself, she transports away.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD. Like, I don’t have the superlatives to tell you how good this is. I am once again blown away both by your generosity and by how amazing these fics are. He’s her little boy. He’s always her little boy, and it’ll never change.


summary: Once Yongsun realized Byulyi acted different around her, there was no way back to comforting ignorance.

pairing: moonsun

words: 1800+

also readable here


Yongsun had been reaching for assurance her whole life. In kindergarten, she always clang to her friend’s coat-tails, in high school there never passed a break without her being surrounded by colleagues and admirers. Yongsun thought that this was how happiness felt like, even though the well-known anxiety of being alone, lonely, miserable kept attacking in her dreams.

The feeling only started flaking off when she was with her.

Keep reading

Taking Laura

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a story written for one of my followers. She’s agreed to let me post it publically. Again, if anyone else would like a story written for them please, let me know. It’s also a bit longer than usual, so beware. Hope you enjoy it as much as she did.)


It’d been a long day for Laura and she was finally thankful be home. As she came around the corner to the hallway for her flat she was shocked when she almost ran into someone. Usually it was pretty quiet this time of year as all her neighbors worked different schedules to her and most were gone at this time of day, except for Mr. Johns, a retired teacher that had told her he was going to visit his daughter this week. Laura looked up and realized it was a large delivery man with a very large package on a dolly. She nodded politely to him and he nodded back as she moved towards her apartment.

As she inserted the key and lock the door she thought she heard footsteps and then some kind of electrical sound. She started to turn around when her body exploded in pain as she felt electricity ripping through her body at her neck.

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds she collapsed on the floor her muscles twitching involuntarily and completely refusing to obey any orders you gave. Even her throat was frozen.

Laura felt herself dragged into her apartment after the door had been open and then some other moving around that she was unable to see due to her not facing the door from where she had been unceremoniously dumped.

She was just starting to get some of her muscle control back when she felt something sharp tighten around her wrists and the sound she recognized as a zip tie. Someone was tying her up! She increased her efforts to move and was just about ready to scream bloody murder when suddenly someone grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and yanked her head back painfully.

The sudden pain caused her to gasp in pain and her mouth opened wide to scream in pain.

Unfortunately that’s exactly what the person attacking her wanted as, when her mouth opened wide a large rubber ball was slammed into her mouth. She bit down reflexively on this intruder and by the time she realized what it was a large piece of tape had been slapped over her mouth to hold it in place.

She felt the person turn momentarily to bind her kicking legs with another zip tie and then return to her head.

She started trying to push it out when she felt her attacker gather her long hair up and hold it out of the way as he began wrapping the tape around her head. All while she kicked, squirmed, and screamed.

When he finally finished, Laura’s head was wrapped in multiple layers of tape from her nose to her chin. Meaning even the loudest screams were reduced to barely audible muffles, and made the chances of her being heard more than 10 feet from her a dream at best. Oddly the thought passed through her head of how painful the tape was going to be coming off.

Her head was released and she was still trying to fight the zip tie around her wrists when a heavy weight pressed sharply into her back holding her immobile. Then for the first time she heard a voice and it said, “I wouldn’t move if I was you, Laura, unless you want more of this.”  A stun gun was held in her face and activated the sparks jumping back-and-forth across it she froze completely and a terrifying through ran through her mind: ‘How does he know my name?’

The man said, “You are going to be a good girl, or you’re going to be punished like a bad girl. I can just use this to render you unconscious, but if you make me do that, I’ll be very unhappy. You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you?”

Laura shook her head back and forth quickly. “That’s a good girl,” the man said in a patronizing voice as he stroked her head. She jerked away angrily and he just chuckled.

He proceeded to wrap more zip ties around her arms first and then, after the top half of her dress off, her body. The pain that hadn’t been so bad at first got worse as her arms were rendered completely useless. He turned her onto her back and she was moaning in pain as he looked her over.

She stared up at her attacker, easily 6 feet tall, wide, and powerful looking. He had a dark look on his face as he studied her, seeming unconcerned with the obvious pain and distress she was currently in. He held very long and wide zip ties in his left hand and the stun gun in his right.

“I’m going to take care of your legs up now. If you move or try to fight I’ll put this,” he held up the stun gun, “in your cunt. Do you understand?”

She nodded and he bent down, cut the zip tie from her ankles and, after removing her dress completely, bound her legs as effectively as he had her arms. Her legs were bound individually, with her calves pressed to her thighs and herheels were basically welded to her ass. She was almost completely immobilized, in nothing but her bra and panties. She could wiggle some but that was about it. In her mind, some part of her was screaming, ‘You didn’t even try to fight,’ but the rest of her realized the wisdom to do as she was told in light of the promised consequences of resistance.

The man again was looking down at her and said, “Now, ordinarily this is the point you and I would be paying a visit to your bedroom and I’d be having lots of fun.”  Laura squealed behind her gag in fear at the explicit threat of rape and pulled at her bonds. He continued as if he didn’t even notice, “but, you’re a special commission. I don’t know who they are or why they want you, but they’re paying me a lot of money to get you and an extra bonus to not indulge in my usual proclivities.”

“No more need fir this,” he said, cutting her bra off and rubbing her breasts and nipples for a few moments as she squirmed. He then bent down and gently rubbed her panty covered cunt and said, “You’re damn good looking, and you’re even wet. If I wasn’t being paid as much as I am I’d say, ‘Fuck the bonus,’ then I’d be fucking you.”

Laura shuddered at his words and couldn’t help but acknowledge the moisture but it wasn’t because she was getting off on this. It was the terror. She’d read how women’s bodies reacted in weird ways in situations, that’s all this was, ‘Right?’

“Lucky for you,” he said after another few moments of rubbing her pussy, “you’re not going to be entirely alone down there. Your,” he sought for the right word, and then smiled, “benefactors, wanted me to give you these.” He held up two large objects and it took her a moment to recognize them for what they were; two large inflatable dildos. She’d seen things like these before in sex shops and she’d even fantasized about them a time or two. Although nothing like these as they seemed to have several thin metallic strips running around their length. She whined as he smiled and said, “Yes they’re pretty big and they get even bigger but I’m sure a little slut like you can handle it. They also apparently have some very special features that I’m going to demonstrate to you later.”

He approached her and Laura started to squirm. No way was she going to let him put those inside her. No way! He just laughed as he grabbed, “It’s hilarious you think you still have a choice.” He then placed his knee solidly on her stomach to hold her in place and held up the dildo for her front first. “You see this hole here,” he indicated a flat extended from the base of the dildo. It had a hole not quite a centimeter in diameter. She looked at it confused and he said, “This is very special. It’s for that naughty little clit of yours. It’s going to go right through here. I understand it’s going to be very exciting for you.”

Laura shook her head in stunned disbelief and whined through her gag as he ripped her panties away from her body and then lubed up the dildo and worked it past the folds of her suddenly fear dried pussy. He twisted it gently at first then with more force as he worked it slowly and deeply into her pussy. Her moan, a combination of fear, humiliation, and reluctant arousal accompanied the feeling of the shaft seemingly being buried inside her all the way to her cervix.

Once it was buried to the hilt he quickly grabbed the inflation bulb and started to pump it up. Her pussy, already feeling full from the size of the dildo, begin to feel achingly and then painfully so. He continued to squeeze the ball with abandon ignoring her until she was whining and squealing behind her gag almost constantly. He finally stopped and then, using what she assumed was a small hand held vacuum he was able to coax the nub of her clit out until he was able to get a firm hold if of it with something. He slid this took through the hole her clit was destined for and using it was able to pull her clit through. The entire operation hadn’t been quick nor easy, and despite the discomfort and sometimes pain he had caused she couldn’t ignore how aroused her clit was now.

It was still not intentional or consensual but she couldn’t ignore the results as he clit was now feeling incredibly sensitive. Seemingly satisfied he reached over for something else she couldn’t see and she suddenly felt a squeezing at the base of her clit which quickly went from uncomfortable to unbearable. Her eyes squeezed shut in agony when it finally stopped and he said, “The thing has a round clamp that I’ve tightened around the base of your clit. It’s actually electrical so now that it’s set it can be loosened somewhat or tightened even more with the press of a remote. Apparently, there’s some other features too, that you’ll find out about later but for now just remember, as tight and painful as it is now, I can make it a whole lot worse.” Laura shook her head even as she was begging through her gag for him to loosen it. Just a little, some relief for her now agonized clit, but again, he ignored her.

She was screaming inside her head, ‘Please, just a little. I can’t take it! PLEASE!’

Next, he flipped her over and forced her legs apart so he could complete the process with her ass. Laura started squirming with vigor and in her agitated state didn’t realize that in that position, and with what had been done to her clit it meant the usually well protected sexual nub was actually sticking out at an odd angle and somewhat exposed. As she twisted on the carpet her hips momentarily drove the now over-sensitized bud across the carpet, making her feel like it just been hit with a sandblaster and she actually screamed in pain for a moment and froze.

He actually seemed to realize what had happened and laughed at her as he turned his attention to the matter at hand. He spread her cheeks with one of his hands as he tried to push the dildo in with the other. She clenched tightly and shook her head back-and-forth. Laura wasn’t going to let that happen. He just shook his head to himself at the insane delusion she seemed to have that she still had any choices.

He didn’t say anything as he released the hold had on her cheeks. The next thing she felt was a jab at her ass before the electricity ripped through her body once again. She convulsed violently and screamed into the gag that effectively turned her bellow of pain into squeaks that surely didn’t reach the door.

After she had calmed down he repeated the same procedure spreading her cheeks with his hands and pushing the dildo against her asshole; the message was nonverbal but clear: comply or suffer.

Reluctantly Laura relaxed her ass as much as she could and she felt the rounded edge of the plug begin to penetrate. She heard him say, “Try pushing, it’ll actually make the entry a little easier for you.”

 Laura did as she was instructed and found it did actually make it somewhat easier although the sensation was completely unpleasant. Finally, when the plug was fully inserted he began inflating it as she squealed and struggled again as one of her passages was expanding in a way it was never meant to be.

Once both shafts were buried he removed the pumps and wrapped a thick looking belt around her waist with an accompanying strap. He pulled the belt tight and the pulled the strap between her legs, feeding both dildos through the belt. He cinched both the belt and the strap as tight as possible, the effect cramming the dildos even further into her abused shafts, making her moan in barely restrained agony.

When he was finished and he opened the large case she had seen him with and she saw it was empty save for foam rubber filling and a small tank at the top of it.

He gathered her long blonde hair up and put it into a quick ponytail at the very top of her head. It looked ridiculous but the reason would be apparent momentarily.

He picked her up wordlessly and laid her on her side in the case. She sank into the foam somewhat and he began to tighten straps around her body, legs, and head to hold her in place. The spot for her head was form fitting and with her hair stick through an opening in the top it acted as another point of restraint, holding her head immobilized.

He said, “the foam acts as padding to keep you from moving and trying to attract attention and a sound dampener. With the straps fastened you’re not going to move around at all and the tank you saw is an air scrubber. It scrubs the CO2 out of the air and replaces it with oxygen, kind of like scuba. The entire case is completely airtight as that helps with the soundproofing.”

Laura was terrified of being trapped inside this thing with, according to him, no source of outside air. She strained against her bonds but between the zip ties, the straps, and even the foam she was effectively immobile. He continued not even seeming to notice or care about her fear, “the the scrubber will last approximately 10 minutes so long as I get you down my van in the that time you’ll be fine if not…” He left the sentence hanging as he moved around the room and collected her purse and belongings. He spent ten minutes moving around her bedroom and when he came back he had a bag she used for traveling and it looked filled, “Now everyone will just think you left on a trip last minute.”

How did he know to grab that bag? How long as he been watching me?’ she asked herself.

“Keep in mind,” he said as he grabbed the top of the case, “usually I have an acquisition spend her whole trip in this thing but we’ve got a lot further to go, so this is just to get you to the van. I’ve got something extra special for you there.”

With that be brought the top down and with the muffled sound of snaps, plunged her into total darkness and utter silence. Laura felt the case moving and was completely disoriented. Her mind was flooded with terror and the only thought running through her mind repeatedly was that she had to get out, she had to! She panicked and started straining as hard as she could. Ignoring the pain of the zip ties as they pinched her skin. True to his word however she couldn’t move a fraction of a centimeter.

She was as still as a statue. A living female, terrified statue.

Please, you have to let me out. I can’t do this. LET ME OUT!

Of course, not one could hear her, not even the man standing right next to the now sealed case.

He put the case on the dolly and headed out the room with a smaller box that held her trip bag. He made it to his van without being seen and without incident and loaded her in the back.

After that he closed the back and moved the van to an empty parking lot he’d scouted nearby and moved to the back of the van. Her panicked, desperate face greeted him and he just smiled and said, “Trust me, that’s not nearly as bad as it’s going to get.”

He watched the fear of that statement wash over her as he got to work.

He spent the next 30 minutes systematically replacing the zip ties with leather straps. When he was done, she had less binding her but was no less effectively rendered helpless as her legs were still double up and felt like her heels were welded to her ass and her arms were a single motionless column down her back. 

Once that was completed he proceeded to hoist her bound body into the air and in moments she found herself hanging suspended in the back of his van from a series of chains. The effect was to give her no leverage to move let alone make any laughable effort to escape. It was an ingenious way of driving home her complete helplessness as even gravity was working against any efforts she’d make to gain her freedom.

‘It’s so tight,’ she thought, ‘I’ll never get loose.’

When that was done he finally removed her gag. Laura screamed in pain as he none to gently pulled the tape away and she saw quite a bit of blonde hair stuck in the tape.

He pulled the ball out of her mouth, telling her to remain silent as he did so, or else. She knew what ‘or else’ meant and so she did as she was told.

After giving her some water he brought out what he said was hew “new gag”. It was a helmet that went over her face, leaving only her eyes and nose visible. It was very easy to breath in it and he said this way he didn’t have to worry about her suffocating. It didn’t seem like it would really work well at keeping her quiet and she began to worry what the trick was.

Of course, he had an answer, “I know you’re probably wondering about the lack of a gag but I have a solution let me just finish this up.” He stepped out of her vision and she felt something bush against her a few times and some pulling on her body.

He finally came back into her view. He pulled out a small box and pressed a button. Laura flinched in fear, remembering about the clamp on her clit but relaxed when nothing happened. He looked at her and said, Okay, try to say something.” She was nervous but licked her lips and started, “Wha…”

It was as far as she got before her world exploded in agonizing pain around her throat, in her lower holes, and on her clit. It felt as if they had been engulfed in flames. He laughed as she struggled and squirmed and her mouth opened in a wordless, soundless, anguished scream. He pressed another button on the box shutting everything off and looked at her, smiling evilly.

That was the last straw and Laura finally slipped over the precipice of insanity she’d been tilting over since this nightmare began. She started squirming and fighting with everything she had. She was like an insane, rabid animal as she fought the leather and steel that held her prisoner. She screamed for all she was worth and he just watched it all.

After a few minutes, she began to still as she had exhausted herself. She collapsed into her bonds, panting heavily as big fat tears of desperation ran down her face and snot was running out of her nose. The need for the design of the helmet clear as she’d probably be suffocating right now if her mouth were filled with something.

Finally, she calmed to something resembling rational and he said, “I’m glad you got that out of your system. It’s good for a new slave to learn just how helpless it is.” She looked at him in confusion.

He smiled at her look and continued, “That’s what you are now, a slave. That’s all. You’re not a woman, or a person, and you’re certainly not ‘Laura” anymore. You are whatever your new Owners want you to be, what your new Masters make you out to be. In your case, they have some special ‘experiments’ in mind, or so I’m told. Don’t know what that means and it doesn’t matter. The fact is that you belong to them now.  If they want to hurt you, they will. When they want to fuck you, they will. When they want to let someone else use you, they will. Or, one of my favorites, if they want to shave that mane of beautiful blonde hair off your head and make it into a pony tail for your ass, they will. None of it will be up to you. You have no will anymore and no rights, and when they’re done you’ll be a pathetically obedient and submissive slave. I’d fucking get used to it if I were you.” He let those words filter through her fear intoxicated mind for a moment. The interior of the van virtually silent except for their breathing.

NO, I won’t become that! I won’t! I’ll fight, they’ll see. They can’t do that to me.’ Then the thought crept unbidden into her mind, ‘But what if they use the electricity? What then? I can’t take it. I can’t,’ her tears started to come again, ‘This can’t be real. It’s a nightmare, that’s all. I’m going to wake up and be scared, but it’s just a dream, it can’t be real. This can’t be happening. It can’t be…,’ the thought, desperate in its origin kept ripping through her mind, but every time she thought it, the pull against one of the straps or chains brought her back to the fact it was real, and it was happening, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

He let the silence linger a few more seconds, watching the thoughts run through her head. He’d seen this dozens of times in this profession. The moment when an acquisition truly started to understand that this wasn’t a dream, or rather, a nightmare, but reality. A terrifyingly unbelievable reality that not only were they forced into completely against their will, but that they also could do absolutely nothing to alter the course of their life.

Their lives were what someone else would make it, and they were simply an unwillingly participant that would do whatever was demanded of them.

It was a crushing thought and it was always fun to see. It would of course fade, as a slave’s spirit, in this case Laura’s, tried to rally its defenses. But each time that would fail. With each brutal whipping, with each torture, with each rape and violation experienced, the acceptance would grow deeper and the resistance would fade.

Finally, she’d give in completely, and do what she was told out of self-preservation. Most slaves always thought complete surrender meant life would be easier, but it wasn’t. They didn’t understand that their Owners were not satisfied with their property, choosing to give. They would settle for nothing less than the complete abolishment of will. Complete inability to choose.

There was no need for “self-preservation” because the slave had no “self”, it wasn’t entitled to such a thing.

No, their Owners would not be satisfied until a slave broke completely, and they didn’t act out of the choice to obey their Owners. Instead they acted with a single mindedness that didn’t allow for the ability to choose. Obedience would be so completely ingrained that it was never a choice, it was an obsession.

 That’s when the real training started, because that’s when she’d be rebuilt into what her Owner’s desired.

He knew from experience that Laura didn’t know it now, but eventually, she’d break completely. For him, that’s when the fun began.

He continued to stare into her eyes as she began to get herself under control. Her tears slowed and stopped and her breathing returned more to normal. He took a rag from somewhere and wiped her face off, all while looking her right in the eye. She’d tried to hold his stare and had for most of it, but finally, she broke eye contact, and actually lowered her gaze, instinctively submitting.

Internally he smiled and he went on as if he hadn’t just informed Laura that she had been doomed to a life of non-consensual sexual servitude, or that she had subconsciously already started down the path of acceptance.

“Now, on to the explanation of what you just experienced.” He pointed at the box, “when that’s activated the mask you’re wearing has a very sensitive microphone in it. As long as you stay silent there’s no problem. but if you try to make the slightest sound you will get shocked. The one in your throat is designed to render your vocal cords completely paralyzed. So, the only sound that will come out is what you’d get of you breathed out really forcefully with your mouth wide open, in other words, nothing, really. The van is soundproofed so it’s not like anyone could hear you even if you could scream, but I don’t want to listen to you screaming while I drive and I like the idea of you suffering like that,” he smiled at her as he reached down and tweaked one of her nipples none to gently. That act and the smile told her that he really would enjoy watching her suffer. A thought which caused an involuntary shudder to run through her as she realized she was in no position to resist and probably never would be.

‘No, I can’t think like that, she tried to scold herself, but that internal voice sounded hollow even to herself.

He went on with his explanation without missing a beat, “The shocks in your cunt, on that sensitive little clit of yours, and in your ass, are designed to punish. They’re designed to hurt, as I’m sure you can testify.” Laura looked at him with some anger and he smiled, “Nice to see you’ve still got some spirit,” He patted her head. “Anyway, the shocks last for a random amount of time from three to ten seconds.” Laura looked terrified at the thought of enduring that for ten seconds, she couldn’t do it.

“After a shock the system resets and chooses a new randomized time for the next shock and, now this is important slave, so pay attention, increases the severity.” He said the last part while looking right into her eyes and she nearly freaked out again. The last shock had been unimaginable and the pain all consuming. She couldn’t imagine it getting worse. She couldn’t go through that, she wouldn’t survive. She nearly started fighting and struggling again and the only thing that stopped her was the look in his eye told her he wouldn’t leave her unpunished for that a second time. Laura used every bit of control she had and simply nodded her head in understanding as hard as she could.

“Excellent, now let’s finish up,” he said as he connected a final chain to the top of her helmet and pulled her head back so she couldn’t even move that. Once he was satisfied he looked right into her eye as he and then he pressed the button on the dreaded button on the box once again.

He ran his hands over her ass, her tits, and along her pussy one final time. She tried to twist away but her grunting attempted contortions did nothing to stop his exploring hands. It was just another demonstration of her complete helplessness.

“Okay, Laura, it’s time to get this show on the road. By the way, that’s the last time you’ll ever hear your name. Like I said before, you’re not Laura anymore. You’re an experiment. You’ll learn more about what I mean once we get you to your Owners. Fact is I’m pretty curious myself, but first we need to get you back to my base of operations, and it’s a long trip. I know that sounds cheesy but it’s true. Not like I can do this out of my garage. Fortunately, although your new Owners said I couldn’t use your bottom two holes they didn’t say I could get a blowjob. I’ll definitely be in need of one after such a long drive. Luckily, I have a convenient hole just waiting for me. Keep that in mind; you’ll have something to look forward to,” he again reached up and tweaked her nipple, “I was told to tell you something,” Laura looked at him confused and he said, “Welcome to your life as an it. Now let’s get going.”

‘No, I am Laura. That’s who I am, who I’ll always be. I’m Laura,’ she’d started the mantra in her head. She’d hold on to who she was. She’d do it…she had to.

With that he climbed into the driver seat, started engine, put his van in gear and begin the journey that would take the former Laura from her life as a bright, intelligent human being, and deliver her forever into a life of unending servitude. A life as a test subject for whatever twisted experiments her new owners came up with.

As he the van moved out into traffic he suddenly perked up, “Oops, I almost forgot,” he said it mostly to himself but Laura heard him. He took out the box and Laura watched in fear as he pressed another button and suddenly the dildos in her ass and cunt and the ring around her clit sprang to life as they began to vibrate.

Laura let out a surprised squeal and was rewarded with a three second shock that left her shuddering once again in silent agony.

After a few moments as she began to regain her senses Laura realized that the dildos and the ring were vibrating again, and the ring seemed to actually be tightening and loosening, like it was squeezing her clit.

Incredibly, she could sense that it was having an effect and she could feel the first traces of an orgasm beginning to build. ‘It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not FAIR!!!!,’ she screamed to herself.

This was too much, it was too cruel and inhumane. How could one person do this to another?

From somewhere deep in her already bruised psyche a tiny voice whispered so quietly she didn’t even consciously hear it, ‘You’re not a person, anymore, it.’

She started squirming against her bonds in earnest, too terrified to not try to escape, even though she knew it was useless. she did this despite the possibility of being punished for her efforts. It was better than the real orgasm enduced torture she faced if she didn’t escape before these dreaded dildos began pulling orgasms from her body, against her will.

As she twisted and contorted in her bondage, desperate to get away now she looked towards the front of the van, somehow, illogically hoping for help or mercy from her captor.

He met her eyes in the rearview mirror and winked, knowingly.

If she orgasmed she’d have to do so utterly silently but, in her experience, she’d rarely been quiet in that regard and the thought of the shocks to come made her determined to resist. As the vibrations began to increase in intensity and even pulsed another jolt or unwanted arousal ran through her and she didn’t know how she’s be able to hold off. In reality she didn’t think she would. But she had to try, or at least she had to let go silently. The alternative was too terrifying.

‘I have to hold on, I have to be strong! I have to! I can’t…I won’t cum, I won’t! Oh god, it feels so good… NO! Okay, maybe I can do it silently. Maybe just a little one. I can’t do it, but I can’t take any more of those shocks. OH GOD! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!”

As Laura’s internal monologue continued her mind began to slip further and further into that place her Owners would want her. A place where her mind was desperate to do anything to stop her pain. Anything. From there it would be a very short jump to do anything to avoid pain, and from there, simply anything to please.

It would be a long road but the results would be stunning and prove their worth in Laura’s ultimately complete obedience and utter submission.

As the man began to hum gently to himself and turned on the radio he considered that while right now Laura was in agony and was terrified beyond all reason she had no idea that before her mind, will, and spirit were completely broken she would look back on this as the good old days.

Exo Reacting To You Having A Mommy Kink (NSFW)

(I know it’s out of order)

Taking Requests!!!


Minseok wouldn’t find truth in the words dripping from your mouth. It was too perfect for the situation. He’d always wanted you in this way. The idea of being under your control would make him go crazy and he’d like to start right away.

“Really? Well in that case,” Xiumin smirked, dropping to a kneeling position in front of you. “I need my mommy tonight.”

Originally posted by hoemedy


Although this manly man liked showing you how dominate he could be, he would be lying if he said no to you. In fact, he’s immediately turned on.

“I’ve been a bad boy, Mommy. I need to be punished.”

Originally posted by jonnasexoticworld


Yifan didn’t know if he’d enjoy the kink. In fact, he thought you were joking at first, but he was open to it.

“Hm, a mommy kink. I think I can dig it. Does that mean I’ll be the one getting spanked tonight?”

Originally posted by exo-wufan


Daddy kink? Handcuffs? Orgasm denial? Normally Lay was pretty open to any kinks you brought his way, but this one. This one was his favorite.

“Mommy? You like that? Good.”

Originally posted by yehetmenot


“Hm, I don’t know,” a smirk pulled at Junmyeon’s lips as a strand of your hair moved through his fingers. “Will you let Daddy fuck you hard tomorrow?”

Originally posted by captivatesme


Jongdae wouldn’t be able to stop laughing. Not because he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t expect this kind of interest from you. Once Chen’s state was together again, his tongue flicked across his lip, “Well, let’s go to the bedroom, Mommy.”

Originally posted by porkdo-bi


Channie never considered you having a mommy kink. It never even creeped through the back of his mind. Nonetheless, he was oddly turned on when you mentioned it.

“Hehe, well, I guess if you wanna be called that,” Chanyeol cleared his throat, his dark eyes shifting to his bulge. “Then I don’t mind.”

Originally posted by jungkooktouchbutts


“You’re baby boy needs his mommy,” Baekhyun dragged his tongue across his lip. “He needs her now.”

Originally posted by byunpum


I think Jongin would be a little shy with this subject. Hearing the words ‘mommy kink’ from your mouth immediately sends shock waves across his skin.

Kai’s throat clenched, his mind too shy for what he was just told. With a newly painted pink across his features, his tan fingertips played with the ends of his glasses, “Um…well, I-I, okay. Let’s…do this…I guess.”

Originally posted by jonginization


“A mommy kink?”

He wouldn’t show it but he didn’t find your new interest very tasteful. It’s not that he hated it, but Kyungsoo didn’t like change, and the idea of something new in the bedroom that he had no experience with whatsoever almost frightened him. He ends up giving it a try though, and almost liking it too much.

“Fuck, Mommy. Give it to me already.”

Originally posted by ohsehunismydaddy


I think our Taozi would be in love with this, so he’d be all over this idea.

Tao gripped your wrist, pulling your body weight to the room before slamming the door shut. Falling back first to the king size bed the two of you share, he waited, “I’m ready.” He swallowed, “Start, mommy.”

Originally posted by karina617tor


I think Sehun would be much like Kyungsoo: opposed, but with an added flare of sass. After throwing you a final look of disgust, he’d roll his eyes and sigh, “Fine, maybe I’ll end up liking it.”

Let’s just say he ends up calling you Mommy more than once.

Originally posted by katherine8595


JB Appreciation Week, Day 4: One Scene

The Sword Fight

“Give me the sword, Kingslayer.”

“Oh, I will.” He sprang to his feet and drove at her, the longsword alive in his hands. Brienne jumped back, parrying, but he followed, pressing the attack. No sooner did she turn one cut than the next was upon her. The swords kissed and sprang apart and kissed again. Jaime’s blood was singing. This was what he was meant for; he never felt so alive as when he was fighting, with death balanced on every stroke. And with my wrists chained together, the wench may even give me a contest for a time. His chains forced him to use a two-handed grip, though of course the weight and reach were less than if the blade had been a true two-handed greatsword, but what did it matter? His cousin’s sword was long enough to write an end to this Brienne of Tarth.

High, low, overhand, he rained down steel upon her. Left, right, backslash, swinging so hard that sparks flew when the swords came together, upswing, sideslash, overhand, always attacking, moving into her, step and slide, strike and step, step and strike, hacking, slashing, faster, faster, faster …

… until, breathless, he stepped back and let the point of the sword fall to the ground, giving her a moment of respite. “Not half bad,” he acknowledged. “For a wench.”

She took a slow deep breath, her eyes watching him warily. “I would not hurt you, Kingslayer.”

“As if you could.” He whirled the blade back up above his head and flew at her again, chains rattling.

Jaime could not have said how long he pressed the attack. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke. He drove her away from his cousin’s corpse, drove her across the road, drove her into the trees. She stumbled once on a root she never saw, and for a moment he thought she was done, but she went to one knee instead of falling, and never lost a beat. Her sword leapt up to block a downcut that would have opened her from shoulder to groin, and then she cut at him, again and again, fighting her way back to her feet stroke by stroke.

The dance went on. He pinned her against an oak, cursed as she slipped away, followed her through a shallow brook half-choked with fallen leaves. Steel rang, steel sang, steel screamed and sparked and scraped, and the woman started grunting like a sow at every crash, yet somehow he could not reach her. It was as if she had an iron cage around her that stopped every blow.

“Not bad at all,” he said when he paused for a second to catch his breath, circling to her right.

“For a wench?”

“For a squire, say. A green one.” He laughed a ragged, breathless laugh. “Come on, come on, my sweetling, the music’s still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady?”

Grunting, she came at him, blade whirling, and suddenly it was Jaime struggling to keep steel from skin. One of her slashes raked across his brow, and blood ran down into his right eye. The Others take her, and Riverrun as well! His skills had gone to rust and rot in that bloody dungeon, and the chains were no great help either. His eye closed, his shoulders were going numb from the jarring they’d taken, and his wrists ached from the weight of chains, manacles, and sword. His longsword grew heavier with every blow, and Jaime knew he was not swinging it as quickly as he’d done earlier, nor raising it as high.

She is stronger than I am.

The realization chilled him. Robert had been stronger than him, to be sure. The White Bull Gerold Hightower as well, in his heyday, and Ser Arthur Dayne. Amongst the living, Greatjon Umber was stronger, Strongboar of Crakehall most likely, both Cleganes for a certainty. The Mountain’s strength was like nothing human. It did not matter. With speed and skill, Jaime could beat them all. But this was a woman. A huge cow of a woman, to be sure, but even so … by rights, she should be the one wearing down.

Instead she forced him back into the brook again, shouting, “Yield! Throw down the sword!”

A slick stone turned under Jaime’s foot. As he felt himself falling, he twisted the mischance into a ping lunge. His point scraped past her parry and bit into her upper thigh. A red flower blossomed, and Jaime had an instant to savor the sight of her blood before his knee slammed into a rock. The pain was blinding. Brienne splashed into him and kicked away his sword. “YIELD!”

Jaime drove his shoulder into her legs, bringing her down on top of him. They rolled, kicking and punching until finally she was sitting astride him. He managed to jerk her dagger from its sheath, but before he could plunge it into her belly she caught his wrist and slammed his hands back on a rock so hard he thought she’d wrenched an arm from its socket. Her other hand spread across his face. “Yield!” She shoved his head down, held it under, pulled it up. “Yield!” Jaime spit water into her face. A shove, a splash, and he was under again, kicking uselessly, fighting to breathe. Up again. “Yield, or I’ll drown you!”

“And break your oath?” he snarled. “Like me?”

She let him go, and he went down with a splash.

And the woods rang with coarse laughter.

Brienne lurched to her feet. She was all mud and blood below the waist, her clothing askew, her face red. She looks as if they caught us fucking instead of fighting. Jaime crawled over the rocks to shallow water, wiping the blood from his eye with his chained hands. Armed men lined both sides of the brook. Small wonder, we were making enough noise to wake a dragon. “Well met, friends,” he called to them amiably. “My pardons if I disturbed you. You caught me chastising my wife.”

- Jaime Lannister (A Storm of Swords, George R. R. Martin) 

Sleeping Beauty - a Percabeth fic

The last thing Percy remembered was seeing a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess’s. She looked down at him and said, “You’re the one. You must be.”

And then everything went dark.

When he came to he was in a clearing in the forest, and the girl was nowhere to be seen. His boots and cloak were gone, and - he realised with a panic - his sword was, too. He was completely vulnerable, lying beside a pond with no idea where he was or how he’d got there. His horse made a soft noise and nudged Percy’s shoulder with his nose, encouraging him to move.

As he sat up things slowly started to piece themselves together. He remembered being chased… the minotaur, yes, it had been a minotaur after him. It had been a long fight, but he’d won, eventually. The beast had been vanquished and he… he had collapsed, injured and exhausted. So how had he ended up here? And who was the girl?

His body ached in protest as he slowly got to his feet. The sun was shining, and the forest was really quite pretty, he thought. Dappled light fell through the branches of the tall trees, the grass underfoot was soft and green, and scented flowers bloomed all around. Percy still had no idea how to navigate it, though. 

He was considering his next move when he heard it - the most beautiful voice imaginable, singing. The sound was carried to him on the warm summer breeze, and he was instantly enchanted.

“You hear that, Blackjack?” he said, looking around at his horse. “Beautiful!”

Blackjack snorted, unimpressed.

Percy took a few steps, following the sound. “What is it? Come on, let’s find out.” 

Blackjack stood still, shaking his head. 

“Oh, come on! For an extra bucket of oats? And a few donuts?”

That got the horse interested. But of course, as soon as they set off, the voice was silenced. They wandered for a while but ended up going in circles, and Percy frowned.

“You know, Blackjack, there was something strange about that voice. Too beautiful to be real. Maybe it was a wood sprite…”

But he was soon proved wrong, for the singing started up again. He headed eagerly towards its source and spotted a flash of gold through the trees. It was the girl, stepping lightly through a clearing and singing to herself. 

“But if I know you, I know what you’ll do, you’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream,” she sang, twirling away.

Percy hid behind a tree, watching her. Blackjack hovered over his shoulder, and Percy shot him an incredulous look as she continued singing.

He waited until she had her back to him, and then Percy stepped out and gently grasped her wrist, joining in the song.

“You’ll love me at once, the way you did,” (here her voice faded away, but he continued on), “once upon a dream.”

“Oh!” the girl said, turning to see him. Her grey eyes went wide, and her blonde curls bounced around her shoulders as she pulled herself out of his grasp.

He held on. “I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you -”

And then she gripped his wrist, leveraged his own weight against him and flipped him to the ground in one smooth movement. 

“You didn’t frighten me,” she snarled, looking down at him where he lay prone on his back. Her eyes were stormy. She dropped his wrist, sending it forcefully towards his face. “And you drool when you sleep.”

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Only a Broken Heart- Bobby Angst (Requested) [Part 2]

Requested anonymously.

Member: Bobby (iKON)

Genre: Angst

Prompt: You and Bobby are secretly dating, and the media finds out, and then he dumps you for his career. Then like a time skip where he wants you back now that his career’s stable, but you’ve already gotten married. No happy ending please!

Written by: Admin Midnight xD

Side note: Part 2 is finally up! If you haven’t already, you can read Part 1

It’s been a couple of years.

There’s still a part of you that’s broken, still a part of you that’s dead inside. But you’ve done pretty well so far, especially because you’ve been trying to avoid an individual whose face decorates the walls of your sister’s house. Especially because you’ve become adept at switching of the television every time you see award shows. Especially because you’ve become a master of hiding, of obscuring yourself from everything.

But you’re fine.

Everything’s great.

You’re happy now.

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