#Like i've been getting asks in which people try to twist it to seem like im genocidal towards palestinians

[xclowniex]

Why do you hate the ethnic Irish? Irish is an ethnicity, not just a nationality. The British tried to genocide the Irish so many times, so by your own logic they should be allowed to be nationalist just like Jews.

Please explain? ✨

I think you have be confused with someone else as I have never once said anything about the Irish. I don't hate them and I wish them all the best luck in finishing their decolonization from the British

[evangelifloss]

Thinking about a certain scene in Dungeon Meshi that completely encapsulates the Autistic experience of making friends as an adult and how hard it is to try and navigate it without ending up getting hurt.

Like IDK about y'all, but this is a common problem ALOT of Autistic Adults face when trying to make friends with other people, because unlike children who aren't good at keeping their opinions to themselves, Adults ARE. In society, we're even encouraged to "keep the peace" "be polite" and etc, which commonly leads to awful scenarios as shown above when Laois finds out his buddy has come to resent who Laois is without actually telling him. All too often the friends that we love to hang out with, people that we're so happy to spend time with, don't feel the same way and in many cases, come to blame us for our social cues or lack thereof.

And when/if we do eventually find out how our friend feels, Dungeon Meshi hits us with another painful panel of how that usually ends up playing out.

It's hard for Adults with Autism to make friends, and even harder to maintain them because alot of the ways Neurotypicals tell other Neurotypicals that they don't like a certain behavior is by quietly disengaging. Whether that involves having one sentence answers, going quiet, or having a certain tone in their voice, all those things signal annoyance or disapproval, but for the Neurodivergents, those subtle cues are completely missed.

And yet when we inevitably discover we DID do something, it is natural to ask "well why didn't you tell me?" because in our minds, it should've been the next step in the equation. However for the Neurotypicals, that's NOT something to bring up. Its important to be SUBTLE about the issue at hand and rely on signals to tell the other person. Blame is placed on us for not noticing the "obvious" signs of disapproval rather than the idea of talking it out as such things are uncomfortable and harder to do. Alot of the time what ends up happening is resentment due to the idea that it was "obvious" and the fact one didn't notice indicates a deliberate ignorance rather than a complete unawareness. It ends up calling into question our quality as a person and our sincerity. We get called "fake" or "malicious" or even "stupid" for failing social cues rather than questioning the decision to be indirect and vague.

For a manga about exploring the dungeon, it seems that the artist would rather explore very real and prevalent dynamics in society with the adventuring premise as a backdrop. I felt VERY seen in these panels, and many others, because it happens so suddenly and dare I say it, plainly. There's no dramatic build-up or spectacle made and in essence, it just Happens.

I think that's what makes the scene hit even harder. It seemingly comes out of nowhere for Laois, like how it always comes out of nowhere for alot of people, and it's never a dramatic twist either. It's always mundane and hurtful. A sudden unforeseen bump in the road that ends up calling into question one's entire friendship with someone and consequent other friendships. It asks "what if other friends feel the same. What if the people that I really like actually hate me and I don't know it?" Or at least that's what I came away with after reading the chapter. I've been where Laois was and the only reason I'm not there now is because I lost the naivete I had and doubt everyone else's sincerity.

[nishirikiluv]

Twisted Love

Facing Reality

pairings: yandere!jay x reader

chapter warnings: fear, drugging, kidnapping, threatening, restraints, noncon, choking, slapping, oral (f recieving), fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, Jay gets kinda mean at one point, please lmk if I've missed anything (also not proofread so.. if theres mistakes, look past it...)

a/n: took me long enough to post chapter 2... i don't know when i'll post chapter 3 but i'll try not to take as long as i did with this one

taglist: @bbyinthehouse

masterlist | previous | chapter 2 | next

It had been about 2 weeks since you had that first awful dream about Jay. It would've been fine if it was a one time thing. But it wasn't. Every night you'd have the same dream. The details were a little different each time, but for the most part it was the same. It didn't make sense that they were dreams when they felt so real. Luckily, Jay seemed much different at work recently.

He joined your group's project at like he'd told you before, but he was acting so normal? He was the same man that chased you into the elevator, right? Regardless, it's relieving that he hadn't been acting that way anymore. Every interaction was strictly professional and work related, which relieved all the prior tension you had about the whole idea of having him in your group.

It was the end of the final meeting your group had for this project. One of the girls suggested you all go out for dinner together to celebrate. Everyone seemed excited so you felt awkward to decline going with them. Jay had a blank look on his face but still agreed to going. Something felt off, he usually wasn't very expressive but right now it felt different. You brushed it off deciding not to dwell on it too much.

Somehow you ended up in Jay's car on the way to the restaurant. The silence was deafening. You tried to get into someone else's car, or even just uber or walk but he insisted he drive you. He cleared his throat suddenly, making you jump in your seat. "We're here."

The two of you walked into the restaurant together, the rest of your co-workers waved you over. The dinner was nice, it felt relieving to just laugh and eat and drink with people.

Towards the end of the night you excused yourself to take a phone call, Jay's eyes couldn't seem to leave your figure as you walked away.

You finished the call shortly, only to be met by Jay right when you turned around. You were startled when he walked closer to you, backing you against a wall. Feels familiar. "Who was that?" The tone in his voice sent chills down your spine. "I-It was my broth-" He cut you off, not bothering to listen to your reply. He grabbed your face, his hand maneuvering your head, as if inspecting you. "You look like you haven't been sleeping well... is something... bothering you?" Obviously you weren't going to tell him about the dreams. You were so busy trying to think of an excuse that you missed the dark look in his eye. "No I just... stayed up late, working..."

He released his grip on your face, patting your shoulder. "You should be catching up on sleep then since today was our final day working on the project." I nodded in agreement. "Yeah... hopefully I can." He hummed in reply, his hand moving down to gently rub your arm. "Will you need a ride home today?" You had a bad feeling about the way he asked, instantly declining. "No!" You yelled without thinking, making him raise a brow. "No.. sorry, I just- I live close so... it's not necessary." He chuckled at the panic in your voice, "If you say so..."

You arrived home, tossing your purse aside, along with your shoes and coat. You decided a shower was necessary so you gathered your things and headed to the bathroom. For some reason you felt the need to lock the door behind you, even though you live alone.

You stepped into the shower and instantly the warm water relaxed you, easing all the strain in your body.

A sudden thud outside the bathroom door broke you from your calmness. You shut off the water, quickly hopping out of the shower and dressing yourself. You heard the thud again, your hand hovering shakily over the doorknob. Did you really want to go see who or what that was? No. But you had to since it is your apartment. You unlocked the door only to find no one there. You checked every inch of your apartment finding nothing.

You plopped down on your bed with a sigh, holding your head in your hands. Is this was going insane felt like?

A clinking sound came from the kitchen right as you were about to lay down. "Didn't I just check in there..." you mumbled to yourself, getting up and slowly walking back over. Your eyes landed on a glass of water sitting on the counter. That wasn't there before. You walked up to it, lifting and inspecting the glass.

An arm wrapped around your waist, a knife coming up to your throat. You felt your blood run cold when a voice spoke. "Drink it." You trembled in his hold, "I-I don't want to..." He pressed the knife against your neck, the sharp end digging in slightly. Your soft whimper of pain made him sigh. The cut was only deep enough to draw a bit of blood. His intentions were to scare you, not kill you. "I wasn't asking. Drink it." The sharp pain left you in panic and you quickly picked up the glass with shaky hands, gulping it down as fast as you could. After a few seconds he felt your body go limp in his hold.

Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It wasn't the usual dark room with white walls, you were sat in a bed with dim lights illuminating the room. Your arms were tied above your head to the bedframe by red ribbons. This dream is weirder than usual.

You watch the doorknob turn, revealing Jay. "My love, you're awake." He sit's on the edge of the bed next to you, caressing your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip as he admires the sight of you. "You look so beautiful like this... tied up... in my bed. Do you like the pretty ribbons I used? I thought they'd look great on you." He traced his fingers over the ribbons tied to your wrists.

"When is this going to stop..." You were saying it more to yourself rather than to him. His face twisted into a sinister smile. "When is what going to stop?" You shifted uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact with him. "These weird dreams..." His loud laugh echoed in the small room, causing you to jump slightly. "My love, this isn't a dream. How cute of you. It never has been."

"What...? Yes it was... I woke up in my room every time... and went to work..." He ran his hand down your body, letting it rest on your thigh. "That was a gift from me. I was being considerate. I knew how important that project was to you so I let you finish it, love. Now that it's over though, I get to have you."

"Y-You can't be serious-"

"I'm very serious. I would never joke around when it comes to you." He ran his hand up your thigh and it was just then that you noticed. He changed your outfit. Instead of your pajamas he dressed you in a short, all white, babydoll dress. Your eyes began to water and he could tell that if you blinked, tears would fall.

He cooed softly at your frightened state, petting your hair softly. "Don't cry, you can't be sad because you were made for me. I'm supposed to have you." He sounded so deranged, stating it so matter of factly as if that was supposed to ease your anxiousness.

Jay climbed over you, wrapping his hand around your neck and smashing his lips against yours. He squeezed your neck, causing you to gasp so that he could slide his tongue past your lips to taste every inch of your mouth. You made no effort to kiss him back, letting a few small tears slip down your cheeks. He wasn't happy with your non compliance. He pulled away to harshly slap you across the cheek, grabbing back onto your neck after. "Kiss me back before we have a fucking problem, love."

The look on his face was horrifying, it completely distraced you from the sharp sting in your cheek. He forced his lips on yours again and you, of course, kissed him back, fearful of what he might do if you didn't.

He pushed the dress up your thighs so he could squeeze the soft flesh. He parted his lips from yours, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. He burried his face in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. Jay slid his hands up your body, stopping along the way to squeeze your breasts over the fabric of the dress. You gasped softly when he pulled at the ribbon at the top of the dress, making it come undone so that your cleavage was exposed to him. "Fuck, baby, I've waited so long to have you like this."

All the alarms in your head rung in panic. Your body was still weak from whatever he put in your water earlier but you used the strength you had left to try and kick him away, desperately tugging at the ribbons that kept you tied to the headboard. Jay pinned your legs down with his hands, his fingers digging into your thighs. "Relax. If you don't stop struggling I'll have to hurt you. You don't want that do you?"

You quickly shook your head, a soft sob falling past your lips. He smirked at the sight, letting go of your legs to hike the dress up more. "Good girl." He pulled the top of the dress down under your tits, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips latched onto your nipple, his hand pinching and teasing the other before switching sides to give each one the same treatment. You whined, small tears dripping down your cheeks while you squirmed beneath his touches.

Jay pulled away from your nipple with a 'pop' latching his mouth back onto yours. "Your mouth tastes so good, I can't wait to see how good you taste here..." His finger slid underneath the thin fabric of your lace panties, pushing it to the side. He crawled down between your legs, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.

You were embarassingly wet for someone who didn't want this. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Look's like you want this as much as i do." You rapidly shook your head but nothing was going to stop him now.

He immediately pressed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking in between your folds. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibration sending a jolt through your body. Your whines only encouraged him to keep going. Jay latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard while he slipped his index finger into you making you gasp out. He lifted his head, groaning when he felt you clench around his finger. "You're so tight Y/n... can't wait to feel you around my dick"

"No no no no- Jay p-please don't!" He clicked his tongue. "You're saying no..." he slid in a second finger, "but you're gushing around my fingers right now..." you cried out, your head falling back. Jay chuckled leaning his head back in between your legs. "Wanna see you come, baby. Go on, don't be shy."

You gasped and writhed, trying so hard to hold back your orgasm. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making you come, you also felt appauled by the fact that your body was so turned on right now. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that had you squealing and your toes curling. "F-Fuck.." He doubled his efforts, fucking his fingers faster and harder into you. He was so desperate to see you fall apart to his hands. He began sucking on your clit again, making your legs tremble and forming the knot in your stomach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't have held back this orgasm. You came with a cry, your body shaking while a layer of sweat coated your skin.

The sight of your high was intoxicating to him. He wished he could have it on video to watch at every hour of the day. The way your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth hung open, your chest heaving with every little gasp and moan. He swore he could've come at just the sight alone.

He continued sucking and licking at your folds, making you whimper from overstimulation. When he pulled away you could see the remanings of your arousal on his lips and chin and you felt ashamed of yourself. He, however, was very pleased.

He wasted no time, unbuckling his belt and yanking his pants and boxers down, tossing everything on the floor. He made sure to slip on a condom and before you could fully catch your breath, or even register what he was doing, he plunged his length into you, splitting you in half. A pained moan left your lips as he thrusted relentlessly into you. He pulled your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle.

He could tell you were in pain so he rubbed your swollen clit, quickly turning all that pain into pleasure. You began to wet around him embarassingly fast. "You're disgusting, getting off on being used by the man that kidnapped you." His words ripped a sob from you. The sight of your tears made him groan and twitch inside of you. He picked up the pace, slamming into you so hard that your body moved up on the bed with each thrust.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, bed creaking, and the wet noises coming from your arousal. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing all your cries and moans. His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin. His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling your head back to give him better access. Jay lifted his head to watch the way your tits bounced as he slammes into you. He moaned at the view, cursing under his breath. He was close. But he didn't want to come yet.

He started to pinch and roll your clit in his fingers, wanting you to come again before he did. The sounds you made brought him so close to the edge and it took everything in him to hold back. He felt you clench around him and he used all his force to slam into just the right spot. "Come. Come on my dick." Your soft pants and gasps quickened as your orgasm approached quickly. Your orgasm ripped through you with an intensity that had your body going limp. Weak cries left your lips as your body convulsed from the white hot pleasure.

He thrusted harshly into your limp body, coming shortly after with your name on his lips. He continued moving inside you until he physically couldn't take it anymore, slipping his softened dick out and laying on his side next to you.

He admired your weak form, the way you'd already knocked out. He caressed your cheek softly, a contrast to his dark and possesive gaze. He pressed a kiss to your lips.

"Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow, all you're going to see is red."

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Yandere Lucifer x Reader Headcanons

I've been tossing this idea around in my brain for days lol.

TW: Yandere Behavior, Obsessive and Possessive Thoughts, Panic and Anxiety, Depression, Blood and Injuries, Denial, Overprotective Behavior

• When he first met you, it was when he visited the Hazbin Hotel upon Charlie's request. You were sitting at the table with the rest of the staff and guests, acting the most... Well, normal out of all of them, besides Husk. You smiles and waved his way once Charlie mentioned your name.

• It wasn't like those fairy tales, where it is love at first sight. No, he had to talk to you, of course. After everybody else introduced themselves to him, you walk over to him, shake his hand, and introduce yourself. "Hello, your majesty! My name's (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you!" That's when he falls for you. Throughout the small conversation you both have, you treat him like... well, a normal person. Or, at least, as normal as you can treat the King of Hell, himself.

• The moment he leaves and returns home, he feels extremely guilty for falling for you. Especially since it was so quick, and for such a simple reason. He barely knows you! Why can't he stop thinking about you? He silently vows to never go back to the hotel, not because he doesn't support Charlie, but because he's scared of falling for you even more. However... Calling Charlie and asking about the Hazbin Hotel doesn't sound too bad, yes?

• Soon, asking about the hotel turns to asking about the people there... which, in turn, means asking about you. How have you been doing? Have you shown any interest in the activities and workshops at the hotel? What interests do you have. Of course, Lucifer asks the same questions about everybody else, to not seem suspicious, but he's mostly just interested in you...

• He only falls even more as he hears about you. Lucifer hates himself for it. So, he begins to distance himself, again. He goes back to making his rubber ducks, trying to distract himself from his thoughts about you. However, over time, his ducks slowly began having features that remind him of you. You like drawing? Duckie with a pencil and paper. Singing? Duckie that plays music. His mind can't escape you.

• Once the exterminators show, and the fight with Adam commences, he sees you again. Not in the best condition, either. The dust settles, Niffty absolutely brutalizes Adam, and now everybody is looking for you and Alastor. As Lucifer wanders the area in a frantic search for you, he happens to notice a battered hand sticking out from underneath some rubble. Moving it out of the way, he's now in a panic as he realizes it's you. You're alive, thankfully, albeit heavily injured and hanging on by a thread. That, and passed out.

• The next few minutes are spent with him becoming way too protective over you, holding you in his arms and becoming extremely defensive. His obsessive crush has finally reached more twisted levels, and he's mortified by the thought of letting you out of his sight. Even Charlie is starting to catch on that something is not quite... right about her dad. He's holding you tightly and not letting anybody come near you, despite the fact that you clearly need help. Then again, his angelic powers could probably be used to help you heal, but the point still stands. The only person who's allowed to come close is Charlie, and even then, he's keeping a close eye.

• He's now by your side constantly while you're recovering. He almost lost you! It's a very sudden change in his behavior, considering how he bottled up all of his feelings for you for so long... Nobody even knew he cared about you in specific, much less this much. Whenever you wake up in your bed, staring at the hotel, he's the first person you see. Whenever you fall asleep, he's the last thing you see. He's there throughout the entirety of the day, acting much more like your caregiver than your friend's dad. Bringing you food, getting you water, getting you some blankets and pillows... He's even taking care of changing your bloodied bandages out for new ones.

• At first, you just assumed that he was worried and wanted to help you recover. It'd make sense. You almost died, after all. The behavior doesn't stop after you're fully recovered, though... in fact, it gets worse, somehow. He makes sure that you aren't in danger, be it real or perceived. Somebody who he doesn't know talking to you is just as big of a threat in his eyes as somebody pointing a gun at your face. He's immediately standing by your side, glaring the stranger down.

• He may not be that intimidating, but he's the King of Hell. Many people know how strong he is, even if they don't find him to actually be intimidating to look at. So, they back off, usually. Those who don't get a brief look at his demon form, before getting knocked out. No, no... He doesn't kill them. He can't kill anybody when you are around. He'll wait until later.

• He's a yandere that would never cross any physical boundaries with you. He's spent years isolating himself from people, so as sad as it is to say, he's pretty used to not getting any sort of affection. He doesn't need compliments, hugs, or cuddles ( at least, that's what he tells himself). However, if and when you start showing affection towards him, he's going to need it constantly. He needs reassurance, comfort, a shoulder to cry on, somebody to give affection to... And you are now the only person he feels he's able to do so, with.

• He's going to want to own your soul, so be on the lookout for any tricks he might pull. Well, it's more correct to say he doesn't want to own your soul, but feels like he must. He doesn't like the idea of being in a relationship with such an intense power dynamic, but he's so frightened by the idea that Heaven might take you away, that he feels that he simply must own your soul. He feels that, if he does, it's less likely you'd even be able to go to Heaven, since you're technically owned by him. And he knows he's never going up. Even you just mentioning Heaven throws him into a panic... Don't say that word, alright?

[makeyoumine69]

Possessive hurt-comfort sex with Patrick, please? HEAR ME OUT!😥🤤🤤💖💖

Heal Me

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x fem!Reader; CW: SMUT, unprotected sex, fingering, soft dirty talky, hurt/comfort, angst, sensual foreplay and something more, hehe. Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: Lady Gaga—Heal Me; A/N: It's been a while since I've written any prompts, I'll try to catch up with them since I have a lot of requests to finish. I hope you like this one and thank you so much for sending it in, I love possessive Patty!

It wasn't uncommon for you to be overwhelmed by life's problems because living in a busy city like New York wasn't easy, especially if you weren't from a rich family. But even in the darkest of days, you never gave up, even though it was hard not to when everything around you was pressing down on you. You struggled until one day you met a man who changed your life and even though there was something strange about him, he became your salvation and in some twisted way you hoped to repay him. However, you never really knew what he really needed. He was a total mess, but maybe you were too? But did you ever think that you would find comfort in the arms of a man who probably broke a million hearts and ruined just as many lives?

You asked yourself this question every time you crossed the threshold of the luxury apartment on the 11th floor of the American Gardens Building. But the answer to that question always got lost in the spiral of emotions that overtook you the moment Patrick touched you. The same scenario, the same place, but the specter of sensation he made you feel was limitless, you got addicted to it—you got addicted to him.

The softness of the perfectly white sheets met your naked skin with a familiar feeling, the silky touch of his hands sliding down your body was heavenly, leaving you craving for more, burning with anticipation. This man, he knew everything about you, while you seemed to know nothing about him. It was confusing, perplexing, but intriguing. Patrick Bateman was an enigma, a puzzle you desperately wanted to unravel.

"What's on your mind?" Patrick suddenly murmured above your ear, noticing your thoughtfulness. "You seem to be somewhere else, but not here..."

You huffed and pressed your palm against his soft cheek. "Nothing... nothing serious," you replied, leaning up to kiss him, but he stopped you, holding you down with both hands. "Hey! It's really nothing...I just had a fight with my family."

"Your family?"

"Yeah," you gave him a serious look, considering how cheeky he was grinning. "Sometimes people have fights with their family members. Can you believe that?"

Still smiling, Patrick straightened up a bit to unbutton his blue shirt with the white collar. "Honestly... no," he said nonchalantly. "Such things are too mundane for me. But I'll tell you this," the man unbuckled his belt and then pulled down his Armani pants. "When you're with me... I don't want you to think about anything or anyone else. Do you understand?"

Without waiting for your answer, which wouldn't really change anything, Bateman moved closer to your face to peck at your temple, his hands working to get rid of your remaining clothes. Slightly embarrassed, you let him position himself between your legs, his warm lips locking with yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. Patrick savored your every reaction, from your shaky gasps to the way you writhed beneath him. His possession over you was bordering on obsession and he could never get enough of you. If he had to fuck you senseless to make your mind go blank, he would do it—neither of you had any doubts.

"Patrick... I need you..." you murmured against his swollen lips. "I need you s-so much."

Wrapping his hand around your neck, he pulled you closer. "You won't think about it anymore," he whispered, trailing his hand down your stomach right under the lace of your panties, playing with it to tease you. "Promise?" Bateman's thumb pressed against your clit, making you whimper. "Talk to me, doll."

You wanted to answer, you really did, but this man was nothing more than a torturer, reveling in the power he had over you—your desperation was like water to a thirsty man.

"I...I promise," you finally managed to answer, shaking from the friction Bateman caused as he pulled on your underwear, letting it rub agonizingly against your swollen pussy. "You're the only one...I can think about...a-ah!"

You arched your back as his long fingers pushed inside you effortlessly, your slick juices making a wet, lewd noise every time Patrick moved his digits, stimulating you right where you needed it.

"Fuck, you sound so sweet like that," he curled his fingers, scissoring your soaking cunt with masterful precision. "Life is too short to waste it on unnecessary emotions," Patrick crooned, sliding his free hand along your soft breast, playing with its hard peak. "But this..." he grinned when he heard your high-pitched moan. "This is worth living for."

This man was blessed with the ability to sweet talk, you could bet on that. "You...you devil," your voice wavered from the pleasure his fingers were giving you, each thrust inside you and pull on your nipple bringing you closer to the brink of ecstasy. "God...I have so many problems..."

Suddenly, your eyes shimmered with unwanted tears—such an abrupt change in your mood forced him to stop. Slightly confused, Bateman looked at you from under the brown, messy curls. For a moment, the two of you just stared into each other's eyes, as if trying to imprint this moment into your memories. Things wouldn't be the same for you, not anymore.

"Listen to me," his velvety baritone broke the silence, his fingers remaining deep inside you while his other hand found yours to intertwine your fingers. "Right now you just need to focus on me...on us," Patrick cooed to you before kissing away a single tear that ran down your cheek. "Forget the problems, I will take care of them."

"You don't have to."

"Shhh, sweetheart," he leaned closer to you, letting your noses brush against each other. "Remember your promise, leave the other things to me." 

For once in your life, you decided to do what he asked and just follow your instincts and let them take over. 

The air around you was so hot, electric with sexual tension and desire. When Patrick withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty, you couldn't help but wail in frustration, but it was only an introduction to the real act. Flustered and utterly aroused, Bateman sat on his knees before taking you with him, making you circle your legs around his waist as he whispered sweet praises in your ear. It was only when you felt his hard cock slip between your pussy lips that you realized you were completely lost in the blaze of passion and the uncontrollable willingness to give him all of you. With a slow but determined move, Patrick sheathed himself inside of you, hugging you tighter as he stood on his knees and pounded into you in deep and calculated strokes.

"A-awww," you mewled, clinging to his broad shoulders and hiding your face in the crook of his neck—the mixture of his expensive cologne and his natural scent making you nearly explode with overwhelming emotions. "Feels s-so good...you make me feel so good," you couldn't help but nip at his neck, leaving a red mark and causing him to fuck you harder. "Deeper...mmhm-please!"

Bateman made a guttural sound in response. "You think you can handle it?" You nodded your head so eagerly that you could see stars in front of your eyes. "God, you are such an insatiable little slut."

Without further ado, he changed your position so that you were now standing on your knees facing the white wall above his bed, where a statue stood in the ledge. That thing probably cost a fortune, it would be such a shame if it got broken in the middle of your ravenous lust, but Patrick seemed indifferent to that as he moved it a bit to the side and placed your hands on the edge of the ledge so you had something to grab onto.

"Hold on tight, baby." He sneered devilishly as he snuggled up to you from behind, showering your neck with little kisses. "No safe words since you asked for it."

Your breath hitched at the tight grip on your throat, the thrill of danger mixing with excitement in a wicked cocktail of pure madness. Being so strong, Bateman was able to wreck you like a doll, drawing you onto his thick cock with ease, forcing you to arch your back even more so that its tip could reach your most sensitive spot. You felt so helpless and small in his hands, the way his firm hips slammed into yours, practically fucking you into the wall, left you no choice but to surrender to this raw pleasure.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi!! if you dont mind me asking, whats your opinion on the theory that trey's dream will reveal him to be a manipulative person thats using riddle? i cant help but harbour some form of dislike towards it, but im interested in hearing your opinion!!

I think I've already expressed my thoughts on that in this post, which covers Leona's theory (from book 7 chapter 12 part 1) that Cater and Trey are both puppeteering Riddle for their own benefit. There's also this post, where I reply to someone wondering if Trey actually despises Riddle and baking. To summarize, I don't see Trey as the highly manipulative person Leona's making him out to be; Leona even comments that he was wrong by the end of Cater's dream.

If I'm being honest, I don't understand where these ideas that Trey is an evil mastermind are coming from?? I-Is it Trey stans wanting More for him??? Yes, it has been hinted at multiple times in-universe that Trey isn't as much of a kind big brother type as many of his peers (and especially underclassmen) see him as. However, the alternative doesn't mean he's actually a Big Bad. More likely the truth is that he has more of a mean streak (not genuinely malicious, but more like he's capable of bullying others or holding a grudge) than people suspect he does. Even the people within his own dorm are thrown off when Trey adopts this "darker" attitude and teases them--but that's where it stops. There are genuinely little to no instances of Trey expressing a desire for power, control, etc. no matter how much I try to read into his lines. The times when he does think one step ahead, it’s for very mundane reasons like getting peers to brush their teeth or securing a strawberry tart from a fancy bakery so he doesn’t have to make one himself.

“Maybe that's the point! He's such a brilliant mastermind that we can't even detect him!!" But this isn't the case for other characters deemed to be intelligent and manipulative. Am I supposed to believe that Trey Clover trumps the likes of Rook, Azul, Jamil, Leona, Jade, and more???? In all other cases, the writing makes it pretty blatant what's running through their heads, whether explicitly stated in the dialogue or expressed through changing facial expressions and extended silences ("............"). This doesn't really happen with Trey.

Just because a character is nice at a glance doesn't mean their "real" personality is Absolute Asshole. In the early days of the fandom, people were suspecting Kalim of harboring this kind of a personality reveal, but now it seems to have entirely shifted over to Trey when honestly that claim isn't true for either of them. I’d genuinely be surprised (although not necessarily in a good way, depending on the execution) if they went with this twist for Trey.

[thesleepyskipper]

2024 Year in Review: Writing Round-Up

I was shocked to see that I wrote TEN fics this year, all for RWRB. And that the first one was in April! It was definitely a busy year.

❤️🤍💙.

too sweet (Rated M | 2,237 words)

A little co-worker enemies-to-lovers. Based on the Hozier song of course!

❤️🤍💙.

2. good neighbours (Rated M | 10,283 words)

My fic for @aroyallybigbangrwrb which is a neighbours AU meet-cute situation where Alex really likes to fix stuff for Henry, who really likes to break stuff for Alex to fix. I'm normally a one-shot kinda gal, but writing a chaptered longer fic was a fun challenge!

❤️🤍💙.

3. stop pretending (Rated T | 3,159 words)

My fic for @thebrownstone Summer Switcheroo exchange. Childhood friends-to-lovers based on a little video I saw on twitter with a meddling sister and of course I added in some more meddling friends just for fun (because Nora and Pez need to get in there too!)

❤️🤍💙.

4. yours, forever (Rated T | 2.019 words)

Suuuuper fluffy proposal and wedding fic! The wedding bit is somewhat based on my own true story.

❤️🤍💙.

5. the cadence of your heart (Rated E | 5,585 words)

Oh boy. It took me about 4 or so months of working on this and building up the courage to post my first true E-rated fic in this fandom. This is basically shower sex PWP but also ended up with A LOT of feelings.

❤️🤍💙.

6. lost and found (love) (Rated T | 2.304 words)

A little meet-cute where Alex has lost his dog and Henry runs the local lost dog Facebook group. Part epistolary with FB messages throughout! Written for the red umbrella flufftober collection.

❤️🤍💙.

7. London? (Rated T | 1,432 words)

Somehow my second flufftober piece also ended up revolving around dogs, but this time an established relationship piece with some fun miscommunication about forever (but in a good way). Written for the red umbrella flufftober collection.

❤️🤍💙.

8. takes one to know one (Rated M | 3,608 words)

I had tons of fun writing this particular one about rival professors (with a little twist 🤫) for @anywhere-with-you-event.

❤️🤍💙.

9. According to Plan? (Rated T | 3,822 words)

A few people had asked for a proposal sequel to London? and it seemed to fit well with my first prompt for the frosted pages & snowbound stories collection which was Frozen Lake. My first 5+1 ever! Five times Henry almost caught on that Alex was going to propose and one time Henry had no idea.

❤️🤍💙.

10. keep him warm (Rated M | 4,339 words)

I had some fun with combining a bunch of tropes in this one - a bookstore AU with lots of pining, a power outage, being snowed in and THERE WAS ONLY ONE COUCH!! My second fic for frosted pages & snowbound stories collection.

❤️🤍💙.

It has truly been a wonderful year full of writing (and reading) and I am so appreciative to the tumblr community for all the kind comments, tags and reblogs throughout the year. The WIP games were so much fun and I really looked forward to WW and SSS each week!

Thank you to the lovely friends who tagged me in their Writing Round-Ups @kiwiana-writes, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n, @run-for-chamo-miles, @porcelainmortal

and @iboatedhere, @tinyarmedtrex, @0npurpose - look at all that we have accomplished!!! I've just loved reading all your works this year.

I'll try not to make a gigantic list (like I normally do LOL), but if anyone else would like to share, I'd absolutely love to see! So open tag for sure!

Tagging more lovely friends who have been active and tagged me in tag games or WW and SSS lately! @miss-minnelli, @onthewaytosomewhere, @sophie1973, @firstprincehornyramblings, @stellarmeadow

@littlemisskittentoes, @miharaikko, @getmehighonmagic, @orchidscript, @caterpills

@zwiazdziarka, @judasofsuburbia, @strwbrryagcd, @kj-bee, @whimsymanaged

@14carrotghoul, @myheartalivewrites, @tailsbeth-writes, @suseagull5914, @clockwrkpendrxgon

❤️🤍💙HAPPY NEW YEAR, FRIENDS! Here's to a successful 2025 with all sorts of wonderful new WIPs to work on! ❤️🤍💙

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hiatus Update

Hey everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and is ready for the next year!

I'm really sorry that I keep falling into a hiatus status, but I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about some things.

No, this isn't an announcement of canceling my AUs or that I'm dropping Twisted Wonderland! I still love the series very much and I still have far too much in mind with the AUs to stop thinking about them so soon! I just wanted to get that out of the way since I realize my lack of content creation lately seems to have worried a few people, and I'd like to apologize to everyone for worrying you all.

That being said, that brings me to my next point, and...it's going to get serious. No TW, it's nothing like that! Just...me speaking my thoughts and realizations. TLDR at the end if you want to skip the ramble!

I've been writing for this blog for...gosh, I think about three years now? It feels less than that for me, but that's a lot of writing done over the years. So many AU ideas, so many asks, so much love for the AUs I've created that--honestly--I almost didn't even start this blog had it not been for some encouragement from a good friend. And I'm glad I did! These past few years have been some of the most creatively liberating times I've had before I ever discovered Twisted Wonderland (would you believe it was originally Leona that made me want to play it despite Malleus being the one that kept popping up in my feed to the point I had to try and figure out what his name was? XD).

Yet despite all that writing and hyper-fixating, I've come to realize and accept that I'm experiencing quite the huge burnout...and I have been for quite a while without realizing or accepting it.

It's not because of any particular wip fic or art that I've been slowing down. The burnout had been happening for a while and just boiled over, and I think as a result...I started doubting myself over time. Doubting that what I was writing was going to be good, or that I'd be able to fulfill everyone's requests or asks in a way that makes them happy or feel that I put as much effort into the writing as I do with others, feeling like I'd be letting people down if I don't make something as long or detailed as some of my other responses, or making promises of grand ideas and not being able to deliver on it. I didn't feel connected to my writing, that it wasn't meant for me to enjoy or feel like I could be part of.

To put it simply, I put far too much pressure on myself, and the lack of feedback or reactions beyond likes on some fics I spent a lot of time and effort on didn't exactly help my mind's relationship with my own writing. Because of that self-imposed pressure, I'd...forgotten what it was like to love my own writing, to enjoy the process for what it was and to feel like I can just write what I want and feel included in my own adventures. Writing consumed me to the point that most days...I'd only be able to stare at the blank screen or my notebooks, the words and scenes in my mind yet unable to string them together in tangible form and yet I felt terrible NOT sitting there trying to write.

It was a pretty vicious cycle I couldn't break until now.

Lately, I've been focusing more on self-care. Not just physical stuff like hygiene or cooking better home meals (though I am doing that), but I mean giving myself other things to enjoy on my self-care wheel.

This is what I mean by the self-care wheel (link to instagram post ). It puts it in a way that makes sense, and I hope it helps someone else as well! Here's a screenshot of the post for those who don't have Instagram.

I've been watching more anime and other shows on streaming services lately, I've been playing other games like World of Warcraft (which has become my current obsession!) among others, and just...essentially breaking up the routine I had where I did nothing but writing, so I could take a break. And honestly? I've been able to write other things again. But this time for myself.

I feel like I'm able to enjoy the process again.

I love my writing again!

But I know better than to just assume that things are okay now and I can jump back into the blog so soon. I don't want to repeat what I had been doing when I thought my burnout was gone and just silently falling into hiatus again. Healing isn't a linear process no matter what it's for, and things won't get better if I don't start being kinder to myself.

So to bring a long story short:

I'm okay. I'll be okay, I just have to remind myself to enjoy more hobbies and interests in my life to make each day more fulfilling--more rounded. And when I come back to Twisted Wonderland, I'll go at my own pace and remember to write for myself too. I'd still love to chat and ramble about it or even about other fandoms or things to try! I've spent far too long building this blog to let it and the wonderful people who have followed and commented and even sent asks and fanart go away, and I want to connect in a way I feel I hadn't been able to in ages. ;;v;;

Remember to take care of yourselves, and find other things to fill your self-care wheel! It'll take time and effort, but I promise that things will start to feel better the more you realize you've got other things to make life worthwhile. 💝

TLDR: I'm okay! I'm just going to be on hiatus for a while longer and working more on self-care to remember to enjoy life as it should be enjoyed. Writing and concept art will resume at my own pace when I feel I'm able to consistently enjoy the process of writing for the fandom again. Would love to ramble and chat about other hobbies and interests and interact with the community though!

[sometimesoliloquy]

Ultimately the right question is: How is it a crime that Nick isn't a Mayday agent? (In the show because he is in the book) That doesn't make him a guy who doesn't fight because he condones what's going on in Gilead.

Exactly right. How is this the thing that makes Nick a bad guy? At this point June taking several years to realize that Nick's not some sort of revolutionary freedom fighter really seems like her issue, not his. We know he's not. But he's also not an agent for Gilead. He's always been in the middle, playing within the system but using it to protect those he cares about, and enact change where he can, to make things better. He's allowed Gilead to "win this battle" so to speak, but it's so clear it's because he was painted into a corner, not because he wants Gilead to win. He's not on their side. Even without knowing all the facts here, June should know this given their entire history.

No, he's never been a Mayday agent but he's also worked against Gilead's rules, or rather worked within Gilead's rules against Gilead. Working as an Eye to get some of the worst commanders out of the way (self-serving at times but also doing what's right). Doing little things he can, like smuggling the handmaids' letters to Canada. And he's not a Mayday agent but we know he's worked with them (which I still maintain that by Lily's definition in 5x03 means he is Mayday). Probably most explicitly at the start of s2 trying to get June out of Gilead. It's stated that he's working with Mayday here but implied perhaps for the first time, or at least in this capacity (smuggling people out). "I don't know, I've never done this before". But he certainly knew how to get in contact with them, and fast, whether because he had worked in smaller capacity with them before or just knowing from being an Eye, we don't know. 

And here's something that hadn't really occurred to me before recently, on my last rewatch--I really think that Nick would have had to call in a big favor--or be beholden to a fair amount of continued assistance/intel to Mayday--for them to agree to helping June escape in the first place. Especially if he hadn't worked with them before. Because as we learn in another episode, as a rule Mayday generally won't touch handmaids (let along a pregnant handmaid!). They're too valuable to Gilead and therefore too high profile, and too dangerous to get involved with. Do we really think Nick could have just run to them and they'd be like sure ok np, we'll just risk our entire operation to move a pregnant handmaid of a powerful commander without some sort of collateral from him(that we of course never see)?

And I think this is also an important reminder that, while they are fighting the good fight, Mayday also has their own priorities, their own code of what they'll do and what risks they consider too great to jeopardize the larger operation, no matter how good the cause or how vulnerable the people needing help. They don't just help anyone who needs it at any time no matter what. They exercise deliberate caution (well, this current s6 Mayday cell maybe not quite as much!) and they are aware of and willing to accept the unfortunate possibility of collateral damage. Which is exactly the kind of calculation that we've seen Nick operate with, the twist being that his motivations are largely very personal--surviving, protecting June and Holly--where Mayday's are largely strategic--striking against Gilead (and we know he's always been most reckless and ready to risk when it comes to June).

I think we should also not forget here the actions--or at least intentions--of other characters that in essence are not that different from what Nick did: Moira smuggling June on the NGO boat in s4, putting everyone involved in danger and the entire future of the humanitarian operations at risk. For personal reasons, for the one person she just couldn't stand to leave behind again. And June, ready to rashly do pretty much the exact same thing in 6x05 asking Janine to leave with them that night, which likely would have scrapped the whole Mayday plan AND put the rest of the women at Jezebels in danger (the two things she's ostensibly mad at Nick for). Both characters were rightfully scolded for their actions but it was portrayed as understandable, the human need to put those you love first (I won't even get into all June's actions that have put others in danger trying to get to Hannah or make Gilead hurt after Hannah is put out of reach). 

So why is it that Nick seems to be the only one who doesn't get grace for this? The only real difference as I see it is that he operates in Gilead, within a place of relative power. But as we've seen, power is often an illusion in Gilead, where you can gain or lose it in an instant, and there is always another man around the corner ready to put a noose around your neck or a bullet in your brain (or shackle you with a child bride, or a trip to the war front) if you get in their way. Nick knows this all too well, having been on both sides of the equation! But this is the thing that allows people to say what he did is so wrong, is so much worse than the others, because of this illusion of power, and the illusion of choice we also know exists in Gilead. Elizabeth Moss can say "but there's always a choice, isn't there" and yeah sure that's true, but in this case the other choice was likely for Nick to die, or be jailed and sentenced to death, and June stuck in NB with his vindictive father-in-law on the warpath. And how is that the best choice?

I've got to think that June is gonna realize this after she's had time to calm down and process, but emotions have been high and she's a very reactive person, a lasher-outer, so it's likely not going to be pretty in the immediate future. She's going to have to come to a reckoning and I think it's also going to be a good opportunity for her character to do some self-reflection on herself and the selfishness several characters have been calling her out on lately. If they don't go that direction they'll not only be doing Nick dirty but also do a disservice to the larger character development of June.

[captainsophiestark]

Not All Bad

Rebekah Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Summary: Everything is falling apart just a few weeks after you've become a vampire. Thankfully, someone unexpected is there to help when you need it most.

Word Count: 2,347

Category: Angst, little bit of Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I stumbled into the bathroom, barely keeping a hold of myself long enough to let the door close behind me. I felt like I'd been stabbed in the chest, a knife twisting into my heart as tears streamed down my cheeks. I grabbed the edge of the nearest sink to steady myself, and was reminded instantly of everything that had driven me in here in the first place.

The sink cracked under my grip. Goddamned superstrength. Goddamned heightened emotions. I sobbed harder as my gaze caught the crushed corsage on my chest, and the whole world spun out from underneath me as I sank to the floor. Stupid fucking vampires. Stupid fucking vampires.

The bathroom door flew open, jarring me out of my oncoming spiral. I whipped around, then scowled when I found none other than Rebekah Mikaelson standing in the doorway. She and her family had caused most of the worst problems I'd been dragged into dealing with lately, including the one that had turned me into what I was now.

A monster.

"What's the matter with you?" Rebekah asked, a frown on her face and absolutely no sympathy in her voice. Normally, I think I would've told her to get lost, or else ignored her altogether. But right now, my emotions had already hit their tipping point. I needed to explode. I'd been hoping to do so privately, but thanks to Rebekah, that officially wasn't going to happen.

"What's the matter with me?" I demanded, the words ripping free of my throat almost painfully. "It's my last ever prom, and I was trying to take the opportunity to tell my boyfriend of the last four years and the love of my life about vampires. About me. And instead, I almost fucking killed him!"

Rebekah frowned, taking a step forward and letting the bathroom door close behind her, but I wasn't done yet.

"And, of course, I tried to explain. I tried to apologize, to get my shit together and have the conversation I'd been planning to have, but it didn't matter. He called me a monster, told me he couldn't love me like this. And who the fuck am I to argue with it? My heart's shattering, I can't ever escape this feeling, and when I was trying to hold onto something to ground me, I ended up completely crushing the beautiful paper corsage my little sister made for me because I can't control myself."

I choked back a sob as everything washed over me again and again and again. I whirled away from Rebekah, but that ended up putting me facing the mirror, which just put the broken sink and crushed corsage back to the front of my mind. I doubled over, holding the sink and not caring this time if I broke it further, sobbing harder. I could hear Rebekah taking a few steps closer to me across the floor, but I ignored her, the words and emotions continuing to pour out of me whether or not I wanted them to.

"I never wanted to be like this. To become this. And now I've lost one of the most important people in the world to me, although it's not like I wasn't going to lose him eventually. Someday I'm going to be sitting at my sister's deathbed, still a goddamned teenager when my baby sister goes. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get my brain to stop thinking about that. To stop thinking about anything, ever! There's no peace, no rest! Just the constant noise, from my own thoughts and emotions and from everything in the world that's suddenly a thousand times louder. I can't think over the sound of the music outside, and the people talking, and the fucking owl hooting in the woods! I can hear all of it, and I can't stop thinking, and I keep breaking things, and I just... I don't know what the hell to do! About any of it!"

With that, I sank to the floor, turning as I went to put my back to the sink. I burried my head in my arms, pulled my legs up to my chest, and sobbed. I didn't care if Rebekah saw me like this; I couldn't. I couldn't get a breath of air in, there was no space left for embarassment.

I heard Rebekah's heels clicking over the bathroom tile, louder than all that background noise that refused to leave me alone. I felt her crouch down in front of me without looking up, and I braced myself for whatever she was about to say. Something terrible, almost for sure. Good. Maybe fighting somebody would help me with the storm of razor blades swirling in my chest right now.

No sooner than I'd had the thought did I feel Rebekah reach out and put her hand on my shoulder. I glanced up at her, the surprise of the action enough to jar me out of my thoughts for just a second. She looked sympathetic, which I didn't actually think she was capable of.

"You need to take a deep breath, love," she said, her voice perfectly calm and even. I scowled, ready to start the fight myself if she didn't seem to want to, but she continued before I could get a word in. "I remember how this feels, alright? It's been a while, but... it's not something you forget."

I frowned. She seemed completely sincere, and her heart beat steadily in her chest, although I doubted an Original would be careless enough to let that give away one of their lies. Rebekah sighed, apparently noticing my suspicion, but still, she reached up to brush a tear away from my cheek. I shivered at the touch.

"First of all... you learn to block out the noise, eventually. It helps to focus on one at a time, or just one that you're willing to let in. Focus on it completely and intensely, until it takes up your entire attention. It helps the other things go away, and after a lot of practice, it just becomes second nature to tune out the sounds you don't want. Try it. Focus on the sound of my breathing."

My brain protested, but almost on reflex, I did as she said. Her breathing was quiet, which made it harder to hear over the noise of everything else. Still, Rebekah did her best to help me, taking deep, steady breaths without any effort to be quiet. Slowly, I managed to hear it more clearly, and like she'd said, the other things fell away. I naturally found myself breathing in time with her, too, which might have been part of her goal. For the first time in days, I felt a moment of rest and peace.

"Well done," Rebekah said softly. Her hand had returned to my shoulder, and I focused on the feel of it, along with the sound of her breathing. "After a while, you learn to control your strength too."

"Doesn't change what I destroyed before I learned how to control it," I bit out. Rebekah just gave me a lopsided smile, like she'd been expecting the protest.

"But think about everything you can do with it once you do learn to control it. Or even before! Do you know the number of times I've broken a man's hand when I found him forcing himself on a woman in a bar? It's been one of my favorite hobbies in my immortal life."

I couldn't hold back the slightest smile and laugh at that. While the crushed corsage from my sister still broke my heart, becoming some kind of avenging protector like Rebekah had suggested certainly had an appeal.

"And if you choose not to turn off your emotions, you'll get used to those too," she continued after a moment. I shook my head.

"I won't turn them off. I swore I wouldn't. I've seen too many of my friends cross lines they never would've dreamed of before making that choice."

Rebekah gave me a small smile. "Well then, good for you. I think you'll feel you made the right decision, especially when the good things come. It's true, the heartbreak feels like it may well and truly kill you. But you also feel positive heightened emotions. I promise you, some day, you'll feel love and joy stronger than any human could even dream of."

That got me sobbing again, although it was more from being overwhelmed than anything else. Rebekah scooted closer to me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. I buried my head in her chest, refusing to let the doubt creep in about why she was doing this. Whatever her motives, it was helping, and it was exactly the lifeline I needed right now.

I leaned back once I'd gotten a slightly better hold on myself, and Rebekah gave me a soft smile.

"I have a bit more of a speech I'd like to give, if you don't mind the risk of it making you cry again."

I huffed another laugh that was still half-sob.

"Go for it."

Rebekah brought her hand up and wiped away a few more tears as she continued.

"I take it you've already decided you wouldn't turn your sister for anything? Not even for eternity together?"

I let out a sound of disgust. "No way. I'd never, never put her through this. Especially not for such a selfish reason as not wanting to lose her."

"Well, you're far better than quite a few vampires I know, then," she said, giving me another little smile. "But think about this: you may be at your sister's death bed one day, but you'll also get to watch over her family. You'll see her kids grow up, and you'll be able to take care of them, support them, and protect them over and over again, for generations. Every loss will hurt, but as long as she remains human, you'll never run out of family members to love and support. I truly wish I could say the same.

"Look, I won't lie to you," she continued. "I'd give everything up to be human tomorrow, if it were possible. I miss... just about everything that comes with that life. But the life of a vampire's not all bad, either."

I took a long, deep breath, surprised to find I actually believe what Rebekah was saying to me. I met her eyes, and for the first time, I didn't see a danger or an enemy. I saw somebody kind, despite how long she'd lived, and despite how hard she tried to hide it.

"...Thank you," I said. "Seriously. I... I needed to hear that."

"It's not a problem, love," she said, her hand still resting on my shoulder. "I've... been where you are. I wish I'd had somebody to help me through it all. I'm glad I could pay it forward, even to someone who seems unable to hold back from helping the Salvatores and their little band of righteous idiots."

I snorted. "And I'm glad I didn't just pick a fight with you to try to feel better. This was much more effective."

Rebekah huffed a laugh, and the sound was like music. She stared at me for a few moments, a faint smile on her face, then she spoke again.

"One last thing?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"As for that idiot who dumped you... there are much better options than him out there, especially if he gave up on you so easily. I've barely spent any time with you, and I can still see that you're worth waiting out a few bumps in the road. If he couldn't see that, he's a fool."

My heart raced in my chest at her words, excitement and nerves completely overriding my earlier devastation. Then Rebekah slowly leaned in towards me, and I swear, I almost had a heart attack.

She gave me more than enough time to pull back as her eyes glanced to my lips, but I didn't. Instead, I leaned forward, meeting her just as her hand came up to cup my cheek. The second our lips met, fireworks exploded in my chest. I'd never, ever, felt anything like this before. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

Time seemed to stop as Rebekah kissed me, and even though I felt fairly certain it was only a few moments, it felt like much longer before she pulled gently away. She gave me a little smile that made me absolutely confident she knew what I'd just felt; she knew this was my first kiss as a vampire, and that she'd just perfectly managed to illustrate her point about the positives of heightened feelings.

Rebekah stood, leaving me absolutely breathless on the floor. She turned back when she reached the door, pausing just for a moment.

"Feel free to come find me if you need to talk again. Or if you want to spend your time with someone a little more interesting than your little Mystic Falls gang and that idiot you called a boyfriend."

She shot me a wink, then disappeared out the door. It took my heart a lot longer than I'd like to admit to calm down. I focused on taking deep breaths, like Rebekah had recommended, and slowly, the emotions returned to a manageable level. Once they did, I was a little surprised to find that an absolute head-over-heels crush on Rebekah was the overwhelming and strongest remaining feeling.

I still had a lot of problems to deal with, and a lot of things to process. Doubtless, acting on literally anything I felt for an Original Vampire would cause at least fifteen new problems. And yet, I didn't care. My entire life had exploded tonight, and she'd somehow managed to comfort me with a single conversation. That was something nobody in my life had managed so far, and that no one in the Mystic Falls gang had even really tried. After everything I'd dealt with tonight and in the few weeks since I'd turned, I wasn't about to let someone like that just walk out of my life without a fight, especially not for drama that was barely mine.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

TVD/TO Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[lowkeycasanova]

you ain't my boyfriend, i ain't your girlfriend

Based on the song "Boyfriend" by Ariana Grande & Social House

masterlist

——————————————————————————

“Do you think anyone in the friend group is dating?” Lydia inquired while you threw on an oversized shirt over your swimsuit.

You raised a brow. “I mean, Jett and Samantha.”

“I already know about them.”

"Well...no? Why?" you asked.

"I don't know why, but I feel like Vinnie and Julia have something going on."

That got your attention.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I could be wrong. I just see them together a lot it seems, so I wondered." She shrugged.

"Well-" you started. "They haven't even known each other that long."

"True. Just a thought."

You both went from your spot in the guest room across the hallway to Vinnie's room to call him downstairs.

Upon arriving, you hear laughing from two people. You didn't think anything of it until you saw Vinnie and Julia side by side on the bed, him showing her a something on his phone and she's the main one laughing.

"Hey!" Lydia greeted. "We were just trying to get everyone downstairs. Jett is firing up the grill as we speak."

"Cool, I'm sure my sister is looking for me anyways." Julia stated and got up from the foot of the bed."

She made eye contact with you and you gave her a closed mouth smile. She walked away with a little attitude in her hips and you felt your chest twist up when you saw Vinnie's eyes follow her out the room.

Why would Lydia put that thought in your head? If you hadn't already disliked the idea of them together, you surely did now.

Vinnie followed you both downstairs. Jack had planned a get together with all the friends... just because. There was even a water slide in the backyard.

These people could be so extra, but they were fun regardless.

You mingled around, talking to friends and saying hello to any new people. Every once in a while, you'd see Julia standing next to Vinnie, recording him for whatever reason. You felt yourself getting hot and didn't even realized you eyed her up and down until after.

Anyways.

A few minutes later, you met up with Evan in the backyard by the pool, a friend you met through Vinnie, but didn't know all too well yet.

"Hey!" you greeted him and brought him into a hug. "How have you been?"

"I've been good." he smiled.

"You just had a birthday right?"

"Yeah!" he smiled wider like he was happy you remembered.

"Well happy belated." you said and gave him another hug. "Sorry I couldn't be there."

"Thanks. It's cool though." he hugged you back.

You two began to catch up on things that recently happened in your lives since the last time you saw each other. Which was a while ago. He's so nice and easy to talk to. You wonder why you never really talked that much to each other before.

What you didn't know, was that Vinnie was observing the entire interaction.

He was sitting on top of the table a few feet away, talking to Jordan when seeing you with Evan started to distract him. He was looking past Jordan and subtly leaning forward to get a better look, nearly missing every other word he was saying but trying not to seem obvious.

(Refer to the picture I used)

And if looks could kill, Evan would be done for.

****

You were in the kitchen sipping on your drink when Vinnie approached you, and leaned against the counter with his arms causally across his chest.

“Hey.”

You gave him a nod back.

"What are you doing over here by yourself?"

"Got me a drink." you gestured to your glass. Sometimes you got so nervous around him that you couldn't even look him in the eye.

Vinnie glances over at the people in his line of sight and he gets a glimpse of Evan walking across the room.

"There go your boyfriend." he uttered, trying to hide that proud smirk on his face knowing he probably hit a nerve.

"Huh?" you quickly turned in his direction.

He dipped his head down by your ear and you swore you could feel his lips graze it. "Evan." he simply stated as if he wasn't annoyed by the idea.

You hated how cheeky he was being. You heard him perfectly fine.

"We're not dating." you revealed in defense.

"Well it's obvious that he wants to hit. It's embarrassing actually."

You rolled your eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Then you remembered a someone who'd been by Vinnie's side since she got here.

"Why are you talking about me? What about you and Julia?"

Now it was his turn to get defensive.

"Me and Julia?? Who told you that?"

"A little birdie told me." you shrugged.

"We don't have anything going on. I mean, she's cool and all but I don't know her like that. And she's more of Payton's friend than mine."

"Hmm," you said in response as if you weren't convinced.

Vinnie scoffed. "Whatever. It's not like you and I are dating anyway."

"Yeah, so lets just drop it." you agreed.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

He was about to say something else but your stubborn ass wasn't about to let him have the last word.

You finished your drink in one swing before stating, "excuse me" as you put the glass to his chest and he grabbed in on instinct to not let it fall as you let go of it before making your way to the backyard again.

You both smirked behind each other's backs as the bickering made you like each other even more.

[keeshya6]

What to Expect

Joel Miller x F!Reader Insert

6.5k words

(18+ only. MDNI. To continue, please click “Keep Reading” below.)

This is canon divergent. In my head it's before Joel gets to the Boston QZ, and Joel doesn't know Tess.

There is definitely an element of dubcon to this, due to some glaring imbalances in the power dynamic. However, ultimately, Reader is a willing participant. So it's dubcon-ish.

This could probably be read as a stand-alone one-shot. However, it is a part two. Basics to know from part one: Reader met Joel after his crew killed the people she depended on for protection and, upon realizing this, she offered herself to Joel. Simply put, sex in exchange for protection. Joel demanded a demonstration of her abilities, which she gave to him in part one. Now they are heading back to his camp.

Find part 1 here: Worth the Effort

This will continue to be a series of connected one-shots, I think. No particular timeline planned for posting though.

Please let me know your thoughts, especially if you'd like me to continue this pair's one-shots!

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy!

CW: Little bit of plot, if you squint, but mostly Plot-what-plot? Power imbalance, dubcon-ish, gruff Joel, Dom/sub, dirty talk, manhandling, semi-public kink, sexual acts outdoors, breast play, finger-fucking, mild exhibitionism, mild degradation, mild humiliation, mild praise kink, Joel's an asshole. Let me know if I've missed any, please.

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

Beams of moonlight filter through the forest canopy, lighting up sections of the surrounding wilderness as you follow Joel.

It's a full moon, so even though the sun set a while ago now, you can still see fairly decently. There are some sections though, where not as many leaves have fallen from their branches yet, and you have to pick your steps even more carefully so you don't trip over a hidden root or a critter's burrow. Even Joel slows his confident strides in those areas. Neither of you want to deal with a twisted ankle out here.

For the most part you travel in silence. Generally speaking, it’s safest that way. Plus, he doesn’t seem like much of a talker.

After a while though, you do ask a few questions, trying to get some conversation going.

“How many are in your group?”

“‘Fifteen or so.”

“How long have you been traveling with them?”

“A while.”

“Why were you the only one that backtracked to my camp?”

This is a guess on your part. You don’t actually know how he came across your camp, but you figured that he must have decided to find it after his crew killed the rest of your group. Or rather Phillip’s group. It makes sense, to check for the supplies, and he doesn’t correct your guess now.

“Didn’t need anyone else with them all dead. I can handle a guard or two on my own.”

You have no doubt.

Some small part of you thinks you should feel insulted that he would assume he could handle whoever was left behind. The rest of you shuts that part down though. After all, it’s not like he’s wrong. If you had put up a fight, rather than offering yourself to him in exchange for protection (with a blow job as a convincing argument), you know your body would be growing cold by now, next to the fire he had doused before leaving.

You’re quiet for a while again, picking your way through the trees and adjusting the pack on your shoulders. It feels like you’ve been travelling all night, but the moon is still decently high in the sky.

When the unkempt brush and foliage near the forest floor starts to thin, Joel slows down and gestures for you to come up by him, now that there’s more room.

He glances over at you as he adjusts the rifle strap on one shoulder, and the backpack on the other. Then he looks ahead again, eyes studying the terrain around you.

“How long were you with that group?” he asks.

“About eight months, I think.”

His brows draw together. “But no loyalty?”

You hesitate, glancing his way. You know your answer could hold some serious weight here, given the situation you find yourself in.

“If they were still alive…sure. We were never close, but they kept me alive. With them dead though…well, loyalty losses out to pragmatism.”

After a few quiet moments, he nods and looks your way again.

Feeling his eyes on you, you glance over in time to catch the way his eyes drag down your body.

A faint warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you dart your eyes forward again, pretending not to notice. You mentally stamp down that blush with a frown at yourself, grateful for the shadows.

It isn't long before he breaks the quiet again, his voice lower. “What was his name?”

You almost ask him ‘Who?’ but then realize the likely subject.

“Phillip.”

He nods. “What did you do for Phillip?”

Your eyes dart his way again and you give a faint huff of a laugh. “Well… we fucked,” you say with a shrug, unsure of what else he’s looking for.

A faint scoff meets your ears. “Yeah, Darlin’, I was able to figure that part out. Was lookin’ for more than that.”

You toss a confused frown in his direction. “More? What, you want to know the dead man’s favorite positions? Doggy style. Occasionally missionary and cowgirl. And yeah, he liked getting sucked off. What more do you want to know?”

His hand reaches out to catch your arm and stop your forward momentum, making you gasp softly in surprise before you turn to look up at him. He’s closer now, looking down at you through the shadows, studying you.

“Really?” he says lowly. “Pretty thing like you and all he wanted was… typical sex?”

A tremor races up your spine. It’s nerves, you think, but maybe a bit of thrill too.

Because, even in the shadows, you can see the undeniable interest in his eyes as they move over your face…and dip lower. And if you’re honest with yourself, it’s been a while since a good-looking guy has come along and looked at you that way. Even Phillip -who was decent-looking but just not your type- hadn’t looked at you with heat in his eyes like Joel is right now.

Smoldering. That’s the word. The look in his dark eyes is definitely smoldering.

“Yes?” is all you manage to squeak out, your eyes searching his face.

“Hmmm…” he hums softly, releasing you and turning to continue walking.

You swallow hard, letting out a shaky breath and taking a moment to collect yourself before quickly turning to follow.

“Did you make him the same offer?” he asks, over his shoulder.

Oh, okay. So you’re not done talking about this.

“Um… yeah. Basically.”

“Pretty much anything he wanted in exchange for protection?” he challenges.

“Yes…”

“Must not have been very imaginative…” he mutters under his breath with a chuff, his eyes locking on the light mottled forest ahead.

You almost don’t catch the comment, and a confused frown tugs your brows together as you pick your path carefully behind his.

Several minutes pass in silence again, before your curiosity starts to get the better of you. In fact, you open your mouth to question him, when he breaks the silence a split second before you do.

“We’re almost there,” he says, jerking his chin forward. “That light ahead is from my crew’s camp.”

Your questions momentarily forgotten, your eyes dart ahead again and it takes you a moment to notice the orange flickering light, still distant and partially obscured by bushes somewhere between here and there.

“We need to go over some ground rules before we get there, Darlin’,” he rumbles, and waits for you to turn your eyes back to him and nod your head before he continues. “First, when we get in there, you do not speak yet. If they get a whiff that you’re part of the group from this morning, you’re dead. Far as they know, I found you wanderin’ alone.”

Wide eyed, you nod quickly.

“Good. Next: as long as you want my protection, you are mine. Only mine. No jumpin’ to someone else and then expecting to come crawlin’ back to me. You belong to me. Understood?”

Your brows lift slightly at his choice of wording. You belong to me. There was a time when any such declaration would have had you sneering in return. But that was before, and this is now. Instead, you just nod again. After all, you had said your offer was only for him anyway. At least rule number two doesn’t conflict with your own rules.

“Okay. And speakin’ of my protecting you, you better not have any issues followin’ orders whenever shit hits the fan. I tell you to duck, you duck. I tell you to run, you run. And anything in between. Got it?”

Swallowing hard, you nod again.

“Say it.”

“I understand. I’ll follow your orders.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifts the pack on his shoulder, turning his attention back towards the light. “Let’s go.”

Following him again, you nibble at your lip as you replay the conversations in your head, while the both of you pick your way carefully and circle around to approach from another direction. Joel briefly comments that this direction is less likely to get either of you shot, since someone named Tommy is on this side of the camp.

Not that he explains who Tommy is.

You can see the fire more clearly now through the trees, growing larger as you approach. You’re just barely able to make out a few tents and people around the fire. Even two small cabins a little ways back, each one barely big enough for a bed. Most of the people you can see -about eight- are laying down in sleeping bags near the fire, presumably sleeping and unlucky enough to not have their own tent, or given access to a cabin. A few are sitting up and appear to be talking and a couple others are standing and walking around, guns in hands. Patrols.

At about a hundred feet away, with the light from the fire still not illuminating either of you in the shadows of the trees, you come to a halt, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of your backpack.

While you had been managing to move pretty quietly, Joel still notices the change immediately and also stops, turning to look at you.

“What is it?” he hisses in a whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you tick your chin upward as you study his shadowed face, your voice soft too, to avoid drawing attention from the camp in the near distance.

“What did you mean… when you said Phillip wasn’t very imaginative?”

Joel cocks his head slightly, his brows lifting. Then a faint chuff escapes him, much like the sound he’d made with the comment earlier. “Didn’t realize ya heard that, Darlin’. You really wanna talk about that…right now?”

“Yes.”

He considers for a moment and then takes a single step closer to your side, to within a couple feet of you, his eyes unabashedly dragging down your body again and then slowly returning to your face. “I meant that he wasted a good opportunity. That is, if you’re serious about the offer of ‘pretty much anything’ I want… and depending on what ‘pretty much anything’ means to you.”

You blink a few times, nervously slipping the tip of your tongue out over your lips to wet them. It’s impossible to miss the way Joel’s eyes track the minute movement.

“I…I was serious. But now I’m more curious what ‘pretty much anything’ means to you.”

A low hum passes his lips and he cocks his head to the side again. After a pause, he murmurs, “I'll ask one more time, Darlin’: you really wanna know…right now?”

You swallow thickly and then nod again, once. “Yes. I'd like to at least have an idea…before I step foot into your camp.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and you can see that he traces his teeth with his tongue, behind closed lips, as he looks over your body again in thought.

“Well, Darlin’, it could mean a lot of things. Some days I may be wantin’ things as simple as he did: just sex. Might come back from huntin’ and want you on your knees again…or your hands and knees… or on your back,” he rumbles.

The way he says, his baritone voice dipping with a faint rasp, it sends a surprising warmth across your skin. You can feel it in your chest, up your neck, and into your cheeks. You’re grateful for the generally black-and-white view of the world around you in the evening’s relative darkness.

You give a little nod. “Okay…and other days?”

Joel steps even closer to you, leaving barely six inches between his broad chest and your shoulder. Your breath stills and you look up at him with your head tilted.

“Other days? On other days…I’ll want to play with you,” he says lowly.

Blinking up at him rapidly, you can’t help the way your brows pull together even as your eyes slightly widen. You inhale deeply, feeling the warmth in your cheeks heighten as your chest lifts.

“Play with me?” you repeat in a whisper. “That’s a little… vague, don’t you think?”

Your thoughts are bouncing through so many possibilities of what that loaded word could mean, that you fail to notice Joel shifting beside you, closer still to your side, but now angled behind you a bit. It’s so he can lean down and whisper near to your ear, his breath warm on your skin, snapping you out of your ricocheting thoughts.

“Yes,” he admits, “but I could just… show you.”

It takes a moment for you to recognize your own words from earlier in the day -offering to prove your worth to him- as he turns them back on you. Your eyes widen a little more and your head turns over your shoulder to look at him again, finding him so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek, your own catching in your throat.

“Well?”

Exhaling shakily, you give him a tiny nod. “Okay…but…” You hesitate, mouth twisting up to the side.

Joel stops, his head cocking to the side as he studies you.

“What if there’s something I…really don’t want to do?” you squeak out. “I mean… I did say ‘almost anything’.”

Dark eyes narrow at you and then he snorts a faint huff. “Pick a word, Sweetheart. One word, that you’d never scream while gettin’ fucked.”

His blunt words make your blush deepen.

“Whatever word you choose, you gotta remember it. I’m not goin’ to be askin’ you about it. You have to remember it and use it, if you need to. If I don’t hear it after today though, then don’t expect me to stop until I’m ready to. And don’t think you can get away with using it all the time either. That happens? We’ll have to revisit our arrangement. Understood?”

Your eyes widen throughout his declarations and then with a shiver you nod, licking your lips nervously. “Okay. Yeah, got it. Um…” You glance around at the dark forest surrounding you until your eyes fall on the shadows of a tree in a distant patch of moonlight. “Willow,” you finally say, looking back at him.

“Willow?” he repeats.

You nod. “Yes, Willow.”

“Okay. Willow it is.” He pauses before quirking a brow. “Ready?”

Clenching your jaw for a moment, you take a deep breath and then nod once. “Ready.”

An unreadable smirk tugs up one side of his mouth and he nods, slipping his backpack off his shoulder and quietly setting it down on the ground. He does the same with your backpack, pulling it off your shoulders and setting it beside his bag as you watch him over your shoulder.

Adjusting the rifle strap on his other shoulder, he closes the distance between you without a word of warning, making you jolt slightly. It draws out a faint chuckle from him that you would have missed, if not for the fact that his chest is now pressed against your back and one big hand has slipped around your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Swallowing thickly, you turn your head towards him again over your shoulder, though you can only barely see him out of the corner of your eye.

“Now, Sweetheart, playin’ with you could change from day to day. You could say I’m a man of…eclectic tastes.” He chuckles softly into your ear. “For example… playin’ with you right now… I’d call this semi-public play, which I've always liked. Never know if we’ll get noticed, after all.”

Your breath stutters and your eyes snap to the camp up ahead. There isn’t much movement, and you can see the two men that are patrolling. Even if they patrol on this side of the fire, it doesn’t look like they are going far from the light, so still at least 60 feet from where you and Joel are shrouded in shadows.

Still, the possibility of being caught doing…well, you’re not sure what yet, but…something…has you shivering.

Of course, being held against him, Joel notices and chuckles darkly again.

“How about we test their awareness, hm?” he rumbles against your hair and you swallow hard, heat licking down your spine and pooling between your legs, despite your growing anxiety.

“O-okay,” you barely stammer out.

“Mmm…let’s test how well you take orders too, hm? Open up your jacket.”

Your teeth catch the corner of your lower lip and you take a deep breath. With a little nod, you reach up to the zipper of your jacket and slowly drag it down, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. You push either side open, to reveal the dark green button-up shirt beneath it that hugs your chest.

Over your shoulder, Joel’s head tilts to look down the front of your torso, his mouth still lingering near your ear, his patchy beard catching the strands of your hair. “Hmmm… and now the shirt, Darlin’.”

Air hisses between your teeth in a stuttered breath, your eyes darting around the nearby trees, as if someone else might step out to watch you. You nervously flex your fingers a few times before reaching up to the top button and freeing it. Then the next. And the next. Cool air meets your skin as it’s exposed in a stripe down the center of your torso, the simple, faded tan of a bra peeking out.

Joel watches your hands move to undo each button and then, when they drop to your sides again, he reaches around with the arm that isn’t already at your waist. Calloused fingers slip under the open collar of your shirt, brushing across your collarbone and making you tremble despite yourself. He flips the one side of your shirt open and then the other, exposing more skin to the cool air, and the cotton hugged globes of your breasts.

Goosebumps dance across your skin and you bite your lip, glancing around again to spot the two men patrolling -still a long ways off- before you look over at Joel out of the corner of your eye.

He meets your look with an unapologetic smirk, then looks down the front of your body again as his fingers trace the edge of your bra cup, then trail down between your breasts and over your stomach. They pluck at the button holding your jeans closed as a rumbling, thoughtful hum comes up in his chest.

It takes every bit of control in you to not shiver again at the sound, heat licking through you, despite the cool air, and settling low in your belly and between your thighs.

Damn. When was the last time a man had drawn this sort of reaction out of your body so quickly? So easily? You honestly can’t remember. And it’s frustrating.

Not that you’re able to dwell on it for long.

“Pull the cups down, Darlin’. Let’s see what they're hiding…”

You swallow hard and take a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering and darting around for unseen observers again, until Joel’s breath against your skin distracts you as he rumbles in your ear.

“They’re not likely to see you, pretty girl. Not tonight…maybe another day, but not tonight. Well…as long as you don’t make too much noise and draw attention, anyway.”

Maybe another day?

Your lips part to question that statement, but then you think better of it and snap your mouth closed again. After another brief glance around you, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, tilting your head back to lean it against his shoulder.

After all, even if someone from the camp does happen to notice you, does it make much of a difference regarding your choice? Do as he says… or don’t. It’s really as simple as that in the current moment, possible audience aside.

So, with one more deep breath, your hands glide up over your stomach and to your chest. Fingers curl over the top edge of the cups of your bra and, after another moment of hesitation, you pull them down and hook them under the curves of your breasts.

The cool night air sweeps over your exposed tits and your nipples immediately pucker, peaks tightening into hardened buds. A shiver courses through your veins, more goosebumps dancing across the newly bared skin.

Instinct has your hands moving to cover your chest, but Joel’s larger hands catch your wrists and guild them back down.

“Mmmm… good girl,” he purrs into your ear. “But don’t go hiding ‘em now, sweetheart. You’ve got such a pretty pair of tits. We’re gonna let ‘em breathe a bit.”

The praise sends another shiver down your spine, especially with the way his voice drops into another rasp as he says it. Or maybe that shiver is the result of your nervousness at feeling so exposed.

Maybe it’s both.

Feeling the scruff of Joel’s beard brushing your cheek, you crack your eyes open to look at him. His focus is still down the front of your body though, from over your shoulder, and it’s like he’s drinking in the sight of your chest, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

You’re not sure if you’d call that smile appreciative or wolfish. Again, maybe it’s both.

Either way, it makes you shiver once more.

Joel doesn’t miss those shivers with you pressed against him, and his head ticks to the side a fraction, dark eyes catching you watching him. His brow lifts slightly and then his smile widens a little.

Yeah, it’s definitely both.

His eyes hold yours for several long moments, gaze contemplative, calculating.

Time seems to slow as your eyes dart between his, your heart hammering in your chest, waiting for what he’ll do or say next.

It catches up fast though when he releases your wrists and those big hands glide up your sides, over your rib cage, and finally wrap around your breasts.

Your lips pop open to hiss in a breath, back instinctively arching and pressing you into the warmth of his rough palms. Softer skin pillows between thick fingers that gradually apply pressure, squeezing. A little more and your eyes flutter, your lip curling in to catch between your teeth.

You feel more than hear the low rumble in Joel’s chest against your back as his hands knead at your tits.

His teeth startle you, nipping at the curve of your jaw. It makes you squeak in surprise and you both go still, two sets of eyes darting forwards towards the camp.

Once it’s obvious that no one heard, Joel chuckles as his mouth and nose nuzzle against the hair directly behind your ear. “Better keep quiet, Honey. I ain’t ready to show you off like this yet.”

“‘Ye-yet’?” you gasp out softly.

Another, darker chuckle. “Mhmm… think there’s much privacy with movin’ around and camping? Best get that idea outta your pretty head. I'm lucky enough to have a cabin for now, but that’ll change in a day or two when we move on, and I won’t always want to wait for privacy, Darlin’.” His voice becomes a soft growl then. “Besides…I got no issues with showing off what’s mine; so everyone will know you're mine.”

Your eyes, still focused on the quiet camp, widen as he speaks.

Well, shit.

Sex fully in public was so far off your radar, you're not sure it's even in the same ocean.

Maybe you can talk him ou-

The thought sputters into oblivion as a current of sharp pain blended with aching pleasure ripples across your breasts. You barely manage to catch a startled cry in your throat before it has a chance to escape, by clenching your jaw shut, turning the sound into a ragged whimper as your eyes tear downward.

Joel's index fingers and thumbs are clamped onto each of your nipples and he makes a low sound of amusement. He gives them a firm pinch again.

This time the pain isn’t quite as sharp, since you’re expecting it, but it’s still there. And given that your nipples have always been sensitive you can’t help the way your body jolts. It licks outward, turning into heat that runs through your veins. The pleasure that mingles with the sensation creates a fresh wave of arousal, your cunt clenching.

“Responsive little thing, aren’t you?” he rumbles, and barely twists the buds.

You bite back another strangled whimper, eyes squeezing shut and head dropping back against his shoulder again. Your fingers claw uselessly over the thighs of your jeans before curling into the bottom hem of your open shirt, gripping the fabric tight.

He keeps toying with your breasts for a few minutes, alternating kneading and palming at them with pinching the peaks to keep them hard and listen to your little gasping sounds.

Finally he gives you a brief respite, releasing your chest after a final tug on the peaks that has your back arching sharply.

Your breath stutters again when he wraps an arm around your torso, just under your tormented breasts, tugging you back into his chest. He mouths at that spot behind your ear again, facial hair scraping against your skin. His voice is low and husky, and obviously amused.

“Mmmm… lookin’ forward to properly playing with those tits, Darlin’,” he says. “But for now…”

Swallowing hard, you look over at him, just as you feel his free hand find its way to the front of your jeans. He pops open the button and drags the zipper down, those dark eyes finding yours again as he does, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

You’re not sure if you're frozen due to nervous anxiety or excited anticipation, and once again you realize it doesn’t have to be one or the other.

Then his hand is inside your jeans, pushing down between your thighs, over your panties.

The low, pleased groan he gives meets the pathetic little mewl that passes your lips as your hips rock with a mind of their own.

“Fuckin’ A, this all for me, Sweetheart?” he rumbles into your ear, his fingers seeking and swiftly finding your swollen clit through the soaked material of your panties. “Pussy’s just beggin’ for attention, ain’t she?”

You bite back a whimper, skin flushed as more heat gathers at your center, knowing he can likely feel it.

He doesn't bother waiting for an actual answer, applying pressure and rubbing over the cloth covered bundle of nerves. But when you only give out a small moan, he stops and barely shifts his touch, rubbing again. Again and again he makes tiny adjustments to the way he teases your clit through the cotton, until he finds just the right spot that makes your entire body jolt in his arms and your hand fly up to clamp over your mouth, muffling a strangled keen.

Grinning against your hair, he applies more pressure there, rubbing in quick, tight circles.

Your head presses back into his shoulder, eyes clenching closed. Hips bucking against his hand and spine arching, your breasts lift into the cool night air. As if that's an invitation, the arm Joel has wrapped around your rib cage shifts and his hand engulfs one heaving tit again, kneading it roughly.

Joel keeps pressing and teasing, making your legs tremble as the pleasure amps up, her empty core clenching.

Then, he stops.

A whine is muffled against your hand and your eyes turn to him desperately, finding a curious look in his eyes as his fingertips just press against your clit without moving.

“When was the last time someone other than you made you cum?” he asks.

Your eyes widen a little and you swallow thickly, desperately trying to focus despite the looming orgasm that now seems to be slipping away.

“Answer me,” he growls softly.

Nibbling your lip, you’re once again glad for the black and white view of the forest at night, hoping it hides some of your blush at your admission. “Y-years…”

A hum comes up in his throat and then his tongue clicks softly in a tsk tsk.

When his fingers remain still for several heartbeats, you can’t help the whimper that comes out of you, or the way your hips rock, seeking more friction.

Joel gives a dark chuckle and then nuzzles near your ear again. “Beg,” he barely breathes out the word. “Beg for what you want.”

Entire body quivering, you falter for a moment, desperately trying to gather a coherent thought.

Is this what your time with him, however long, will really be like? Such a mix? Pain with pleasure? Humiliation and desperate desire? Such a push and pull?

You’ve known the man for all of a few hours and he’s already gotten your panties soaked two times; which is more often than the last guy did in three times as many months.

Fuck, you’re in trouble.

Taking in a shaking breath, you’re barely able to whisper out a plea.

“P-please, Joel… pleeeease make me c-cum,” you gasp out the words. “Please.”

A smirk curves up one side of his lips and mustache as his hand moves again, this time to tug the cotton of your panties aside and slide his calloused fingertips through your wet folds, drawing a mewl past your lips.

“Atta girl,” he rumbles, as two thick digits sink into you.

An obscene sounding mewl is muffled against your hand as you clamp it back over your mouth, head dropping back on Joel’s shoulder.

His reach is deeper than your own ever could be and your hips arch eagerly to meet the intrusion, drawing a low chuckle out of him. Buried inside you, his fingers scissor slightly, making you jolt and whimper. Making your cunt flood with a fresh wave of heat and arousal.

“That’s it, Darlin’... so fuckin’ wet for me,” Joel rumbles into your ear.

Gradually he begins to stroke, drawing his fingers back only to press in deeply again, slow at first but soon picking up speed. He twists his fingers inside you and your knees nearly give out, another yelp barely muffled by your hand.

Some small part of your mind demands you look out towards the camp again, to see if you were heard.

The rest of you ignores that small part.

Your hips rock to meet the thrust of his fingers, your chest rising beneath the kneading of his other hand with every panted breath.

A pleased sounding hum comes up in Joel’s chest and he dips his head to bite at the side of your neck, just below your pulse point, sucking at the tender skin and drawing another needy sound out of you at the pleasure-pain that spears like heat through your body. You have no doubt color blossoms under his lips and teeth, marking you above where the collar of your shirt and jacket will rest. Marking you as his.

His tongue laves over the spot as he twists his fingers again, mid-fucking, and your eyes nearly roll back in your head.

At this point, the only things keeping you on your feet are his arm around your chest and his fingers buried between your legs.

“Listen to that, Sweetheart,” he growls lowly into your ear. “Can ya hear how soaked you are? I wonder if anyone else can hear it yet?”

Your lip pulls between your teeth to bite back another whine and it only takes a moment for you to notice it: the lewd wet noises, barely hindered by your panties and jeans his hand is stuffed into.

A confusing mixture of arousal and shame sends a flush rushing into your skin, up your chest and neck and into your face. Your eyes finally pop open, to look out towards the camp.

No one is moving your way.

Joel gives a cruel chuckle against your hair, his fingers moving faster and the heel of his palm pressing over the throbbing bud of your clit at the same instant, making you writhe in his arms.

“You’re a pretty little thing when you’re embarrassed,” he purrs. “Gonna need to get over that though, Darlin’. Not gonna let you get away with keeping those noises in, most the time.” He nips again at the hickey forming on your neck and you gasp between barely muffled moans. “I’m gonna have you screaming for me. Beggin’. Some days I’ll edge you so many times it’ll hurt… and other days I’ll make you cum so many times it’ll hurt. Some days you’ll love what I do to you…and some days you won’t.”

His words make your head spin just as much as the fingers he fucks into you, or the heel of his palm as it grinds against your tender clit.

“But either way, keep this in mind: your pleasure is mine now. Mine. Mine to give or not. You don’t make you cum. I do. You only cum if and when I say. Understood?”

You’re pretty much too far gone to form words now, panting for air, little pleasured sounds hidden in the palm of your hand. All you can manage is to barely nod.

That’s not good enough.

Joel’s fingers go still and the whine you give is nothing short of pathetic.

“Say it.”

A sob comes up in your throat and you just manage to pull it back, hazy eyes looking at him pleadingly as you croak out a response.

“I c-cum… only when y-you say.”

His fingers are fucking into you again instantly and you give a muffled keen, arching and trembling as his voice growls in your ear.

“Good.... So, cum. Now.”

Your body reacts before your mind can fully catch up. Hips bucking and spine arched, you mewl and moan, pleasure rushing through you, your juices soaking the fingers he still pumps into your fluttering cunt. Eyes clench closed as your hands grasp desperately at his arms, nails digging in. It washes over you in wave after wave, all coherent thought wiped away in its wake, buried beneath pleasure and Joel’s rumbling voice in your ear.

“Goood girl…”

Aftershocks course through your body as you slowly come down, limp in the strong arms that still hold you up. One is wrapped around your ribs beneath your breasts again, with a thumb now idly caressing a tender nipple. The other is still in your pants, but now those thick fingers are just curled over your dripping seam, holding you in a way that would almost be tender in a different circumstance.

“So… successful trip?”

Your eyes fly open and snap forward to find a man standing about fifteen feet away, silhouetted by the distant campfire light, his head canted at you and Joel with a rifle down at his side.

The heat of humiliation rushes back into your cheeks as a squeak escapes you and you fumble to try and close the sides of your jacket around your exposed chest. Try and fail, considering Joel’s arms are still in the way.

You writhe in his hold to get free, but it only tightens and his voice dips into a low growl at your ear so only you can hear the words.

“Stop,” he snaps. “We’re still in the shadows, Darlin’. Doubt he’s seen much… but I’ll be happy to call him over for a closer look, if you don’t stay still.”

You bite back a sob and then clamp your lips shut as you do what you’re told.

Joel’s voice lifts to address the silhouette over your shoulder. “You could say that,” he says with dark amusement in his voice, making you shiver. “Found myself a pretty little plaything that wanted protection. She’s still a bit shy though. Mind givin’ us a few more minutes, Tommy?”

The silhouette tilts his head the other way and seems to think about it for a moment before nodding and turning to head back towards the camp.

“Best make it quick though, Brother, if you ain’t plannin’ to share. I doubt I’m the only one that heard her.”

You would swear your face is on fire. You’re surprised it’s not actually creating light of its own.

You both watch Tommy walk away, leaves crunching under his boots. Once he enters the distant firelight you finally tear your eyes from his back to look over your shoulder at Joel.

You find him watching you, a brow quirked.

“Was that really necessary?” you grumble at him.

He chuckles and, with a teasing stroke over the puffy lips of your sex -which of course makes you whimper despite yourself-, he tugs your panties back into place and pulls his hand from your pants. He wipes some of your slick from his fingers across your stomach, and the rest on the hip of your jeans and the thigh of his own. Then he surprises you by reaching around again to zip and button up your jeans.

“Ain’t my fault you couldn’t keep quiet,” he quips.

You blink at him rapidly and your mouth opens and closes a few times before you hiss back, “Actually, it very much was!”

That draws out another dark chuckle and an unapologetic smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

Rolling your eyes, you tug away and begin righting the rest of your clothing: pulling your bra back into place and buttoning up your shirt.

“Well, you wanted to know what you’re in for, Darlin’.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, still with that shameless smirk, that you can’t help staring at him for a moment. Then you just give a resigned sigh and pretend to focus on closing up your jacket.

Out of the corner of your eye you can’t help noticing the way Joel adjusts the front of his jeans once you look away, before he leans down to scoop up his backpack and put it back on, then holds your backpack out to you.

You take the bag and sling it back onto your shoulders, shoving away a bit of smug satisfaction at knowing he’s a little uncomfortable right now too, at least physically.

The thought makes you pause to wonder how long it’ll be before he decides you need to fix that.

You have no doubt now that offering yourself to Joel is going to prove to be a lot more work than it ever was with Phillip. But, on the bright side, at least Joel seems interested in getting you off some of the time. And he’s definitely better at it than anyone else has been in a very, very long time.

So, despite nagging misgivings, he still seems to be an upgrade.

With a mental shrug, you look up at him again, head canting to one side.

“Any more questions?” he asks with that infuriating smirk still in place.

You respond with a slight glare and a negative shake of your head.

Flashing you another brief, wolfish grin, Joel nods once and turns to follow the path towards the camp that Tommy followed.

For a moment, you hesitate, looking back over your shoulder into the darkness of the woods behind you.

They’re eerie.

Quiet.

Uninviting.

Well, what the hell? A deal’s a deal. Plus…it seems doubtful that you’ll be bored anytime soon.

With one more shrug to yourself, you turn forward again and follow Joel into the camp.

[somedorkthatdraws]

Small Rant: The Mischaracterization of Tripitaka in the fandom

I've noticed some fans who express their hatred for Tripitaka and ask questions such as: "Why doesn’t Tripitaka allow Wukong to kill the demons before they attack?" or "Why is it that Tripitaka never believes Wukong when he insists that the person they encounter is a demon?" Some even go as far as to label Tripitaka as evil or abusive.

I felt it was important to clarify some misunderstandings surrounding Tripitaka's character:

The reason Tripitaka struggles to fully trust Wukong is that Wukong sometimes lies. He isn't the most reliable guy, often twisting the truth or manipulating others to get what he wants. When someone has lied to you repeatedly, it’s natural to have difficulty believing them even if they are being truthful this time. Additionally, Tripitaka is very naïve and tends to trust others too easily—after all, he was raised in a temple for most of his life. The lack of experience makes it hard for him to recognize when he’s being tricked. (In other words, Tripitaka may have book smarts but he does not have street smarts.) And it's not just Tripitaka who doubts Wukong; Pigsy, Sandy, and Bai Long Ma often question his word as well. So why is it that hardly anyone criticizes them for their lack of trust?

For those who are upset with Tripitaka for placing the golden band on Wukong's head, which causes him headaches, it's important to understand the reasoning behind this decision. Wukong had committed murder, which is strictly against Buddhist principles. Tripitaka used the band to ensure that Wukong wouldn’t kill again. The text even mentions that Tripitaka is reluctant to use the band but feels he has no choice, as it’s the only way to make Wukong listen to him.

Some may ask, "Why didn’t Tripitaka talk it out with Wukong?" He did! However, Wukong, being stubborn, refused to listen and ran off. Tripitaka giving Wukong headaches is not an act of abuse; rather, it is a form of discipline. If Tripitaka hadn't taken this action, there likely would have been a lot more bloodshed. Tripitaka only ever used the band whenever Wukong misbehaved. While yes there were times when it was used on Wukong even though he did nothing wrong, that only happened because Tripitaka was tricked into doing so. Again, you have to remember that Tripitaka is very gullible and naive and Wukong does have a history of lying and murder.

Also, why is no one ever upset with Guanyin? After all, she is the one who gave Tripitaka the band in the first place and instructed him to use it on Wukong. I often see people directing their anger at Tripitaka, but very few seem to hold Guanyin accountable. She is the one who provided him with the band initially! Why is the blame all placed on Tripitaka?

Additionally, Wukong experiencing severe headaches is one of the least serious issues he has faced. He has endured much worse, such as being put in a boiling pot for days and having his home and monkeys destroyed by the gods. Complaining about Wukong's headaches seems trivial compared to what he has already gone through.

I've even seen some fans in the LMK community suggest that Wukong is traumatized by the band. I disagree. If Wukong were genuinely traumatized by them, he wouldn’t have a positive view of Tripitaka. Furthermore, he would likely display symptoms of trauma, which is not the case. This idea simply doesn't hold up.

I have more that I want to say, but I'm going to end it here for now. Sorry for the long rant, this thing has been eating me up for a long while now and I needed to get it off of my chest.

I understand that not everyone will like a certain character, and you are entitled to your opinion. But can we please stop spreading lies about Tripitaka being evil or abusive when he clearly isn't? I will agree that he's not a saint, but he's not this monster that some people try to paint him as. He's a guy that tries to do the right thing but often makes mistakes.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[whimsicalhorss]

The Recent Nevermore Drama.

Red, I think it's quite sad that you decided to delete all the original comments going against you and reexplaining what went down within your 'apology', which was 95% calling out rather than talking about the cause of the whole uprising. Nonetheless, here was my original reply, just so everybody who stumbles across this post can see the reply from somebody who's viewed it from both sides. The original message was, as follows:

'Hey Red,

I hope you're managing amidst everything that's been going on. I know you've been through a lot recently, and I hate to add to the messages you've been receiving. However, there are some things that I really need to talk to you about.

Over the past few days — even years — I've noticed some things that really concern me. It feels like there's been a lot of blame unfairly placed on certain individuals within your community, which is incredibly damaging, especially when it unfairly paints others in a negative light. I understand you've been trying to address the situation with Crimson, but the approach taken hasn't been effective and has caused more harm than good.

In terms of the Crimson drama, I think it could have been handled more sensibly. Consulting with Laci and others involved would have been beneficial before making the decision to introduce Crimson back to the server. When you were writing your explanation, which I know was rushed, you should have stepped back and consulted for longer - I know you felt pressured, but.. you needed to give yourself time to handle it.

With the screenshots, too - they were only censored to the point of concealing most of the users involved to keep the MINORS safely out of the evidence, and yet you continued to banter on about how they were censored and unable to interpret what happened. As well, you tampered with evidence when you sent a screenshot, CUTTING OUT the part where Laci mentioned they could give you the evidence uncensored if you asked, yet you continued to complain.

On the topic of minors, you name dropped SEVERAL in your apology. Do you know how endangering or scary that can be? It's insane that you felt the need to name anybody involved to get people off your back.

There's also Sardonyx - I don't know if you'll share this with your patreons but, if you do, hello Sardonyx. They casually aggravate people, make NSFW conversation in YOUR SFW server, and you still allow them to pursue in such a way. They continued to temper people after the initial Crimson argument and started their own, which could have been avoided if you had muted both persons involved (rather than banning everybody against Sardonyx) and asked for them to calm down and explain their conflict in dms.

Also the Bunnybel issue - I know the topic was discussed by people banned, but there's also the factor that neither you, nor your mods stepped in to stop it. Matter of fact, you contributed to it, and everybody went along with it as a fun easter event of drawing your two main protagonists in these outfits that, when looked at closer, actually have a much more terrible implication. You should have handled this earlier, rather than blaming it on somebody and ranting about how it's all their fault and they're in the wrong.

Again with Laci, too - you outright blaming her for everything that has occurred is terrible. Whilst that may be what you see in this whole confrontation, in truth, it really isn't anything like that, Red. Saying that everybody else involved were her 'lackeys' and 'twisted around her finger' was an incompetent, foolish way of pinning all these hardships on her. Some people involved, including me, had barely spoken to Laci prior, because a lot of people cared about the fact that YOU had unbanned a potentially alleged pedophile back into your server full of minors. I know it doesn't seem like everybody cared, but we all did, otherwise we wouldn't have started this whole 'riot' thing or whatever to go against it. I surely cared, considering I have been at the face of two pedophiles sending me unsettling, inappropriate images, and I know that it is hard to reach out to somebody or stop them when they shrug it off so nonchalantly.

Lastly, I think it's hypocritical you spoke about how certain groups were stalker-ish and stealing messages from a patreon chat, despite you taking a chat from private servers and dms. The behaviour is equal, is it not? You used your influence to alter certain texts and take them out of context, and the other groups simply took what you said and proved that you, and unpunished, favourited people who have been held dearly, have done terrible things yourself.

I understand that this whole thing has been overwhelming for you, Red, but I believe that there was a real need for you to approach each situation differently, and not to compile everything into an 'apology' that is 5% apology, and 95% calling out people and altering the blame to be put on them. I think that the tactics you used were poor, and I hope that you do figure out something better in the future.

Take care, and I'm here if you'd like to discuss this any further.

Best regards,

A bystander.' And the second reply I made, aimed at one of her patreons (or moderators? who knows.) who put a whole lot of shit behind a paywall and then continued to support her. Aha, Debobble, if it wasn't illegal, I'd show the whole world you trying to make a fake screenshot of Laci 'configurating her hate schemes', and how terribly it was done. 'Hello!

I hope you're having a joyous, maybe even 'whimsical' day!

A lot of things that have occurred recently are the fault of both 'sides' (if we can call them that. Not 'Laci's lackeys' or 'Clique 1 and 2'.) and I think I should refer to the way that this has been dealt with again. 

Yes, the server was owned by somebody different who was capable of banning Crimson, and it was intended for less SFW purposes, but I think Crimson went outright too far in a predatory way. They put a teenage oc with an adult oc, which is pedophilic behaviour, and sent several overly NSFW images. I assume that this chat was intended for 'implied sexual circumstances', rather than overly perverse, but I could be wrong. I agree in the fact that something should have been done, and I approve of Laci's initial reaching out, but I don't approve of the way Red banned them for as little as they did.

As I like to say; 4 months, 4 minors. You afforded Crimson a month for each minor they influenced in such a predatory way, and I think the time should have been extended.

Might I also add, these screenshots were not 'heavily' censored. They were censored for the safety of the minors and other persons involved and, yet.. Red seems to be content with name dropping every minor who was involved. So much for the safety of her members!

AND I have more to add, which I trust you to hand over to Red for me since you seem content to do that quite often for her - do you mind reminding her and the entire patreon and mod chat that Crimson (and Red, I'm pretty sure) knew the age of one 12 year old, who we might call 'Green'. They continued to share NSFW things to them, including making jokes about what I assume was a 'vibrator in public'. How SFW for a child! Crimson is VERY innocent.

I agree that all of this has gotten out of hand, but both responses, from Red, the moderation team, and the patreon chat against the groups banned for involving themselves, but I wouldn't consider it a mob. Both sides had good intentions, it's just the way Red has gone about it - framing others for her mistakes and outright dismissing people for being concerned about the safety, that has made this come to such a volatile level.

And the whole, breaking several TOS, and a law? If thats what we're doing, what are you doing? Leaking private messages, encouraging predatory behaviour, endangering minors, leaking names which could result in a witch hunt from Red's expanse following? Oh dear..

How volatile.

Best regards,

A bystander.' Red, every little detail you have undergone is such a negative, unredeemable smidge to this massive whiteboard of what you could do. Instead of handling this like the adult, you undertake criticism harshly, which is detrimental considering you are somebody who has been writing for years, which means that you should have matured and adapted to take this kinds of things. You could have taken a month, maybe two, maybe three, to explain the whole Crimson thing - it would have been much less detrimental to yourself, and your community. You absolutely wrecked every second, third, fourth, fifth chance people were tempted to give you with every detail that went in to making sure that YOU felt like you had to be right - name dropping, which could lead to witch hunting with your massive following, especially since the people were minors and specifically requested you keep their names out of it. You allowed an alleged, potential predator back into your server without consulting it with victims - and don't get me started on the whole 'Crimson didn't know!', they knew at least one of them, and still continued. You pinned the blame on Laci, on another person (who has asked me not to say their name and, like the respectful person I am, will not be namedropping. That doesn't seem like a familiar concept to you, does it?) and you keep all these little dirty secrets behind a paywall. Red, in the most respectfully disrespectful way, grow up and learn to be better. You spout all this bull, every little detail and, when it backfires, you cower into a corner, guilt trip, manipulate, and eventually resort to the potential physical or mental harm of other people. It needs to stop. The icing on the cake, to all of this? YOU, as the 'mature adult that would never stand for pedophilic behaviour, that loves their audience, that has a server full of minors', that YOU would delete messages explaining the situation in a different point of view. You don't want your vast following to see these and think, 'huh, maybe Red isn't as good as I thought they were?', well they aren't. I don't know if people will see this but, sincerely, I hope Red, Flynn, DeBobble, the patreons, the moderators, and all of the discord and general following of Nevermore and RnF know that what Red spouts isn't necessarily all true.

Kind regards, A bystander.

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death [Chapter 2]

Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character

In Life and Death Masterlist

Warnings: strong violence, language, mentions of suspected sexual assault

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right ending to the one and only, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode III. Chapter 2 — A Ruined World: Round Two

I woke to a splitting headache, certain that Yoo Joonghyuk had caused permanent damage to the tender bits of my brain.

"She's awake!" said Sangah as I stirred. A hand gently brushed the hair from my face. "Here, Choi Yeona, drink this."

She held a bottle to my lips so I could sip at the cool water. I coughed and sat up properly on the bench. "Dokja?"

Sangah shook her head. "Still missing. But that guy said he should return any day now."

I didn't need to ask who that guy was.

A ping! alerted me to a long series of unread constellation messages that had built up since I fell unconscious, but I closed the window. Constellations were not my concern right now.

I looked around the groups of people in the station, those that huddled in despair and those that lounged unafraid with various weapons at their sides, but I couldn't spot an uptight asshole wearing all-black.

"He left after dumping you here," Sangah said as she noticed my searching. "You've been out since yesterday."

I caught a tremble in her voice and turned to regard her properly. Sangah wasn't looking at me, but at her fingers, covered in gashes and crusted with dirt and blood. I took those hands in one of my own.

"Yoo Sangah," I said.

Sangah was someone I really admired from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. Someone I wanted to be like and to have as a friend, a sister. It was the reason my first application of 'Sacred Light' was designed after Sangah's skill. But it also made it hard to approach her: a companion out of my league. Yoo Sangah intimidated me.

Looking at her now, an untouchable person now filled with self-doubt and fear—suddenly Sangah felt tangible. The desire to be close with her surged through me. "Thank you for your help. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I really didn't do much." Her voice was small.

"I'm alive and well, aren't I?"

She gave me a weak smile. "That's debatable."

"Trust me, I've been worse. This is nothing."

Concern crossed her expression. Then we both turned at the sound of footsteps pounding closer.

A small figure pressed into my side, clasping my free hand in theirs. "Noona, you're finally alright."

I chuckled at Lee Gilyoung's attachment, but the laughter died in my throat as I realized the boy was not hugging me out of joy, but gloom.

Gilyoung was teary as his grip grew tighter. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe. I couldn't protect you from that guy."

I twisted my arm to draw him closer to me. "Silly. I said I would protect you."

Gilyoung shook his head and buried his face into my armpit. Uh, okay, it probably stinks in there.

While comforting Gilyoung, I looked around for the others from our party. Han Myungoh was, predictably, sitting with members of Cheon Inho's group. He was quiet and seemed uncomfortable. Lee Hyunsung smiled in relief when we locked eyes, but he remained at his watchful post by the pillar. Which only left...

"Where's Kim Namwoon?"

Sangah's pretty mouth puckered. "Ah, he's off with—"

"Good. You're up."

Yoo Joonghyuk strode inside. An elated Kim Namwoon trailed behind, and he smiled and waved a big knife when he saw me. I lightly shook Gilyoung as Joonghyuk stopped right in front of us, hand on his sword.

His sword? He must have already collected the spoils in the cave Dokja would get Unbroken Faith from.

Hyunsung came to stand nearby, as did Sangah, as if ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

I scowled and rubbed the back of my head. "That hurt like a bitch, you know."

Joonghyuk ignored my words and tugged me up and away from Gilyoung's side. "We're going now."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

The gall of this man. One punch, just one punch.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. In fact, you should stay here with us." The nods of agreement from Sangah and Hyunsung quickly froze at my last words.

"No."

"Then I'm not going."

Joonghyuk and I entered a standoff of glares. His was, unfortunately, much harsher and more practiced than mine.

Underneath his unforgiving gaze now, I was thankful that my information was blocked to protect against his Sage's Eye. Joonghyuk was the type to kill an outlier like me. But it did leave me with a rather odd question.

"Why didn't you just kidnap me while I was unconscious?"

"I'm not kidnapping you." I lifted a brow. Joonghyuk glowered, and then huffed. He jerked his chin forwards. "That brat."

I turned to follow his eyes to...not Gilyoung, but a still-smiling Kim Namwoon sitting crisscrossed on the grimy floor. He bowed his head quickly. It echoed the train; the politeness of the act was rather spooky.

"You should get to decide what you do next, angel-noona," Namwoon said.

My heart swelled in my chest at the familiar name. "Angel?"

"You're a ruthless angel," he said in a dreamy voice, as if recalling a happy memory. "You bring death but also hope. It feels kind. And you are too beautiful for this world. Oh, and your golden light! It glows, and it's powerful, and so cool..." He babbled on about 'Sacred Light' and the way I'd roughed him up on the train and how he hoped I'd do it again.

There really was too much to unpack from Namwoon's declaration. I settled on a murmured word of thanks and regarded Joonghyuk curiously.

I think I understood. Joonghyuk strongly desired Namwoon as an ally, and probably wanted Lee Hyunsung too but it looked like the soldier was remaining loyal to the ones that had saved him. Joonghyuk must be all the more willing to appease Namwoon in order to keep him around.

"I won't leave Dokja behind," I said at last.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind joining Joonghyuk, even if he was an asshole at the moment and didn't remember me, but on this matter I would not compromise. Already, the strain of not knowing Dokja's precise whereabouts or wellbeing was beginning to wear at me.

"Your puppet will be fine."

I balled my fists. "He is not a puppet! He's my friend, not that you would know anything about those."

Joonghyuk eyed me, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword. Then he sighed through his nose. "We need to talk. But not here."

It was so simple and honest, that I felt my defenses weaken at once. I glanced at Sangah and Hyunsung, both with equally apprehensive looks on their faces. They weren't going to like this. "Alright I'll go, but only after Dokja returns."

Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"And I go as far as Chungmuro with you. Then I rejoin my group."

"...Fine."

This Joonghyuk was strangely—well, compliant, for lack of a better word. He certainly wasn't this agreeable with Dokja in the novel. I was a bit uneasy with the idea that my presence might have changed something as drastic as Joonghyuk's initial personality in this round.

"I'll join you!" Namwoon said brightly from behind.

I was about to agree, when Joonghyuk shook his head. "You'll stay here, Kim Namwoon."

"What? Why?" My questions went unanswered as Joonghyuk moved to a pillar and sat back against it, immediately polishing his sword. Alright, maybe not entirely agreeable.

Unable—and unwilling—to solve the mystery that was Yoo Joonghyuk's mind, I went to my group to assure them of the new plan. They didn't like it, but they trusted in me (excepting Gilyoung, who immediately began to mope that I was choosing to "run away with that sooty bastard!").

It was more than I could ask after only a few days together.

I was glad Joonghyuk stuck around for a bit. His ominous presence warded off Cheon Inho and his cronies from harassing us, and the only interaction was the occasional exchange of nods.

Gilyoung, Sangah, and I chatted for a bit about life before the fall, hobbies, and pastimes. I knew of Sangah's interest in languages, of course, but I learned that she had first attempted to study Arabic, because of an interest in Islamic architecture, before switching to Spanish. Gilyoung enjoyed collecting all insects, but in fact preferred butterflies the most. After his parents' death there were only grasshoppers and cockroaches to be found.

At the mention of butterflies, I rifled through my bag. I handed Gilyoung a small pocketknife from my collection. His hands eagerly grabbed at the gift. "It's a butterfly knife. Practice hard while I'm away so when we meet again, you can show me your skills," I said to him.

Gilyoung nodded happily with a cry of thanks, then scampered off. Namwoon wandered over and perked up. "Can I have one?"

"Nope."

Namwoon pouted. Really, he already had a solid weapon better than any of the knives I'd brought. He began to moan about ageism and the difficulty of earning the favor of angels.

I eventually dozed off, fading in and out of a fitful rest. I was sleeping an awful lot. A side effect of being knocked unconscious? Or something more concerning? I hoped it was only a buildup of stress after trying to have a successful start to the apocalypse in this round.

I was roused an indefinite amount of time later by the presence of someone near me.

Kim Namwoon sat, staring, with a pleasurable grin on his face. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Yes." The reply came back fast and eager.

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' appreciates the camaraderie between you two.]

[200 coins have been sponsored!]

...What camaraderie, exactly?

Well, it certainly explained the state of mind of Kim Namwoon's sponsor. And perhaps the boy himself, too.

My head throbbed again so I asked Namwoon to grab the aspirin from my bag. I heard his cry of delight at the stack of knives resting on top before he found the bottle. He stretched out with both hands, offering the aspirin to me dramatically.

"You'll take this medicine...and eat it!!"

I shook out two tablets. "It's not a potato chip."

"YOU KNOW DEATH NO—?!" Namwoon's voice squeaked like a prepubescent boy. He clapped a hand over his mouth in horror, then shot up and sprinted out of sight. That crazy otaku kid, I chuckled and looked around.

My stomach knotted as I noticed Dokja was still missing. Did something go wrong? Sure, I knew it was written that he survived the ichthyosaur, but this time he could have hit his head when he fell, he could have failed to recruit Bihyung and angered him, he could have been overwhelmed by digestive juices, he could have—

There was a commotion from over by Cheon Inho's group. Joonghyuk appeared to be napping, so I gathered myself to go check it out.

A woman from the marginalized group screeched as she fell to her knees, begging. "Please! Please tell me where she is! I just want to see my daughter."

The burly man in front of her looked down at her in disgust. "Who knows. Things happen on scavenging trips."

My blood froze in my veins. Scavenging trips! I whipped my head, searching, but it was in vain. Jung Heewon was nowhere to be seen. Cheon Inho came forwards, stretching down with a hand to the poor mother to do who knows what, but I pulled my knife and jumped him.

"The group out scavenging now. Is there a beautiful woman with them?" I pressed the edge of the blade harder against his Adam's apple when he didn't respond.

"Bitch!"

[The exclusive skill, 'Sacred Light' has been activated.]

Before the burly man could hit me, I used my other hand to form a giant fist of light. He choked as I slammed him into the ground by the throat, his head cracking the tile. "Is she with them?"

"Ye—yeah," gasped Cheon Inho.

"Where. Are. They."

He wheezed as the pressure grew. Blood trickled down the curve of his neck. "Convenience stores! Food, they went for food—don't know where!"

I released him and lunged for my backpack, snatching up a few more knives. Joonghyuk was now alert and watched me closely. I ignored him, and the others that called out to me, as I raced towards the exit, buying a few Ellain Monkey's Lungs from the Dokkaebi Bag on my way.

Once I was out of Geumho station, I peeled for the nearest convenience store. Empty. I breathed through the lungs harshly as I ran down the street. I needed more luck on my side.

[The exclusive skill 'Bank of Lady Fortune' has been activated.]

[You have 2/500 luck. Withdraw amount?]

I quickly used the two measly lucks on my search for Heewon. After the third convenience store, I finally came across one where a man lay crumpled in the doorway. The toxic air had infected him, spreading in purple webs across his skin, but he was still alive. I formed a sword of light and rushed inside.

The place was quiet. A shuffling alerted me to the register, and I rounded the corner. "Heewon!"

"Yeona?"

Kim Dokja looked at me in surprise as he propped up a battered Heewon. A long thorn was in his other hand. I grabbed a spare monkey lung and replaced Heewon's cracked gas mask with it in her mouth. I then replaced my own, as it was beginning to blacken, and Dokja and I each helped carry her out of the store, along with the bags of food Dokja had gathered.

We left the still-breathing man in the doorway. I used a thin blade of light to pierce his temple when everyone else's backs were turned.

[Constellations of the absolute good system are conflicted over your actions.]

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' approves of your justice.]

I led us to exit 4 and we forced our way under the closing gate, despite the resistance from Cheon Inho's men on the other side.

"R—run away!"

We carefully set down Heewon and the bags. I tried righting her skewed jacket with trembling hands and used my own suit jacket to cover her torn skirt. She was barely conscious. A shout was heard as the men returned with metal pipes. Dokja and I exchanged a look, and he glanced at Heewon, taking in her state, before standing.

The men reacted at once to Dokja. "It's him! That's the guy!"

"Who?"

"You know, t—the one that stopped us...hehe, such a good time, too."

"Ah. You should let Cheolsoo-hyung go first anyways."

Angered constellations sent a burst of messages, but I only read the last one.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' is furious.]

"...Dokja." My voice was a bitter cold. He understood immediately, and the constellations were in agreement and issued a bounty scenario. Dokja got to work at once, attacking the men and brandishing his thorn as if it were a great sword. A weight settled on my shoulder.

Heewon's eyes were closed. I reached out to give her a comforting hand, but stopped myself, unsure if anyone's unnecessary touch was a good idea at the moment. Instead, I brushed away a lock of hair that had caught on her mouth. My gaze latched on to the ugly bruise there.

"I'm sorry," I said. The tears finally spilled over. "Heewon, I'm so, so sorry."

I should have been watching. I should have stopped it, should have found her and taken her into our group immediately. I knew I could force-activate my continuous skill, 'Rationality,' right now to clear my mind of this overwhelming guilt, but I didn't. I deserved to feel every single bit.

When Heewon grew heavy with sleep, I eased her off my shoulder and back up against the metal gate.

"You know her?"

Dokja crouched in front of us now. The men lay in varying states of collapse behind him. My throat felt thick. "Yeah."

"I don't think anything too grave happened," he said. "I helped chase off the last of them, but they were still struggling when I got there. She had beaten a couple of them."

The pressure on my chest lifted slightly.

I had the sudden, horrible urge to laugh. I was so...vain. My knowledge and abilities didn't make me the greatest actor of change. I was not the sole savior of these people and this world—they were infinitely capable of saving each other and themselves. My mix of emotions was consuming.

"Dokja." He welcomed me in his arms as I folded into him, sobbing. It felt so good to hold him again. He was warm, solid, and here. Oh God, he's finally here. I sobbed harder.

"Is something wrong?"

"You died," I said, hiccupping. "The first scenario—last round—you died. Dokja, you can't die this time."

Dokja was silent as he rubbed my back. His hand hesitated, then moved up to stroke my hair. I breathed in his scent, and though he smelled of freshwater and something fishy, I found it nice. It was calming. It was real. He shifted his knees on the hard tile, so I wiped at my face before pulling back.

He kept his hands on me, prompting me to meet his searching gaze. "Yeona, I'm alright. I won't die."

I nodded slowly. No, he wouldn't, not in any final sense. I wasn't the ultimate savior for everyone...but for Kim Dokja I was. I would become as arrogant and prideful and whatever else it took to reach his proper end.

I reached up with a finger to trace the thin cut just below his right eye. It had already begun to heal. I dropped my hand and gave him a small smile. "I'm glad to see you."

He returned the smile and squeezed me once before letting go. "I'm glad to see you, too."

Dokja offered to carry Heewon, and I collected the food bags. I paused by the group of men. The one that claimed to have had a "good time" was beginning to stir. I stopped Dokja, and asked, "Is he the main one that...?"

"Yes."

There was nothing complicated in my thoughts as I told Dokja to go on ahead, that I would catch up in a moment. He acknowledged my wish and headed down.

He knew. And his understanding came with an equal callousness.

[Activating the passive skill 'Rationality Lv. 9'.]

It was as if every tumultuous emotion, every overwhelming bubble of feeling, was being shrunk and stuffed away in random shelves until my mind became a blissfully cool state.

I set down the bags, far enough away so that no blood would get on them and approached the man with a knife. I used 'Sacred Light' to clamp his mouth shut and his limbs to the floor. His eyes bugged.

"You chose to prey on the weak. Don't be shocked when the same happens to you," I said. A barrier of light shielded my hands—I didn't want a speck of his filth touching me—and I angled the tip of the knife down between his legs. His panicked shrieks were muffled as he squirmed in the restraints.

I didn't bother unclothing him and sunk the knife into his pants.

If the sound could have formed in the air, he would have released a bloodcurdling scream. A few cuts in and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as blood ran between the tiles in rivulets.

It was quick work. I wasn't trying to lop off everything, but I ensured that nothing would be working properly ever again. I inspected my blood-free shoes and clothing, gathered the food, and left.

There was a flurry of messages but, like before, only one modifier caught my eye.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' favors you.]

[You have been sponsored 800 coins.]

Uriel. I smiled up at the ceiling. She was much more vindictive in this round than I'd expected.

And I like it.

I returned to find Gilyoung, Sangah, and Hyunsung surrounding Dokja in excited greeting. Heewon had been placed on the same bench I knocked out on previously, and I set the food bags by her. Gilyoung saw me and waved.

"Dokja-hyung."

Gilyoung grabbed Dokja's free hand and looked at me, stern, then up at Dokja with an innocent smile. "Noona is leaving us for the sooty bastard!"

"What?" Dokja turned to me, alarmed.

"Gilyoung—I'm not really leaving—it's just for a little while..." I fidgeted with the belt loop of my suit pants. I really need to change out of this, I thought, distracting myself from the sudden tense air. I hadn't planned on telling Dokja of my next steps so soon.

With impeccable timing as ever, Joonghyuk chose that moment to stand up from his hidden spot under the pillar. He looked at me with a pinched expression.

"I see," said Dokja.

Joonghyuk locked eyes with Dokja before they slid back to me. Then he spun and hopped down onto the train tracks, crossing his arms as he did so. Make it quick, I knew he was saying.

I watched Dokja as he examined Joonghyuk for a few minutes. At first, his eyes widened in anger. Then his face scrunched up, bewildered. And more than a little irritated. I wondered what thoughts he had read in Joonghyuk's mind to make him react that way.

Dokja pulled me aside in private, angled so that his body blocked Joonghyuk from view.

"Did he find out you're a regressor?" he whispered harshly.

I shook my head. "My stigmas are censored. And I know that I shouldn't tell him."

"Right. Yoo Joonghyuk does not take kindly to other regressors."

"Still, I should go. I can get Lee Jihye for us and wait for you at Chungmuro station. Maybe get Gong Pildu, too." Dokja seemed conflicted. "I'll be okay. Plus, I can try to soften up the sunfish a bit so he makes for an easier companion."

Dokja grimaced at that, but he slowly released my arm with a nod. "Be careful."

"You too. Cheon Inho's group won't remain quiet for long once Joonghyuk is gone." Something funny shadowed Dokja's face, but I couldn't decipher it.

I bid him and the rest of our group farewell and joined a bored Joonghyuk on the tracks. He said nothing and began walking off into the tunnel.

I smiled at Dokja once more. I wasn't ready to leave him again, but Geumho station was not the unknown belly of a beast. This beast was Cheon Inho and his group, and Dokja has his own companions to aid him this time. He would be alright.

We would meet again, and very soon.

The darkness quickly swallowed me as I followed Yoo Joonghyuk.

Next part ->

A/N: Curious about Joonghyuk's thoughts this chapter? Luckily the author has a little omniscience skill herself:

「I said I would take her with me, but I should kill her.」

「This dark tunnel will suffice.」

「My strength is greater than hers.」

「But...why does the idea of her death hurt?」

「She's dangerous. I should kill her.」

「I don't want to.」

「Annoying.」

「This feeling...」

「Why do I feel this way when I look at her?」

...Oops. Seems like Dokja might have misunderstood a few things.

On another note—Yeona, dear. You are a cold, cold, woman but also somehow one of the most emotional wrecks of them all? A walking contradiction.