#also i don't remember where storm actually was

[dailynnt]

NO MERCY

𖥔 Summary: You are a strong and intelligent, a princess of a mafia clan who has been fighting for years against Jungkook, a dangerous and powerful enemy. Your enmity is mixed with tension and mutual desire. After you ruin an important deal for him, Jungkook kidnaps you to settle the score. An emotional confrontation erupts between you, where the power play borders on a dangerous attraction. But you both know that the first one to give in is the loser.

𖥔 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

𖥔 Age restrictions: 18+

𖥔 Size: one shot (7.6 k words)

𖥔 Tags: enemies to lovers, mafia au, domJungkook/subReader, stockholm syndrome, dark romance, kidnapping, emotional tension, obsession, possessive behaviour, dangerous love, protectiveness, forced proximity, broken characters, betrayal, manipulation, slow burn, angst with a hint of love, toxic romance, redemption arc, intense connection, forbidden feelings, survival, rough tenderness, detailed smut, sex, unprotected sex, table sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, defiance

𖥔 From author: Hello dear Army 💜 I wrote a new story in the style of the mafia au, which as you know I love very much 🖤 I came up with this story while writing chapter 14 “One night…” (this is how it happens when in the middle of the creative process a scene for a separate story appears in my head) and I decided to write it. I really hope you like it 🥺 A big request for those who will read and at some point you don't like my fanfic, or it seems illogical, not interesting or too fictional - just pass by. Respect the effort, time and resources I have spent for those people who will really appreciate my efforts. I sincerely thank EVERYONE who likes this fic, and EVERYONE who likes my work, I appreciate each of you for the weight of gold 🥺😭❤️‍🔥

𖥔 Dedication: I want to dedicate this work to you my BIGGEST LOVE @curse-of-art 🖤 For your support, endless love, faith in me, in the love of my version of JK 🤭 I love you with all my big heart ❤️‍🔥

𖥔 Warning: This story contains dark themes that may be triggering for some readers like table sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, defiance/bratty behavior, stockholm syndrome, and kidnapping. Please read with caution. If you are under 18, please refrain from reading this story. Also, English is not my first language, so you may notice some grammar mistakes or awkward sentence structures. I appreciate your understanding and kindness 🙂‍↕️

You have never asked for mercy. And you certainly weren't going to beg for it now.

Some time ago, you woke up and realized that you were in a dimly lit hotel room. It seemed to be a presidential suite, and you probably knew who it belonged to.

You were sitting tied to a chair, your hands tied behind your back, and a sneer playing on your lips. You knew who was coming. You knew this meeting was inevitable.

Jungkook entered the room quietly, but you felt him before you saw him. His presence was like an impending storm, like an electric shock in the air before a thunderstorm.

"Well, finally." You looked up at him when he came into view. "I was getting tired of waiting for you."

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a palm covered in tattoo ink that peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt colour of night.

You knew that most of the drawings were hidden under his clothes. Once you could only see his tattoos up to his elbow, and you always wondered how they ended.

You remember how the tiger lily on the inside of his arm caught your attention the most - delicate, but as bold as he was. It was his birth flower, a symbol of pride, nobility, and strength hidden behind a reserved expression.

His light colored hair was slicked back carelessly, and above his ear it was shaved, so you could see that his hair color was actually black. This hairstyle emphasized his sharp features and jaw that could cut through the tension in the air. The black earrings in his ears glittered with every movement.

"You made a mistake, Y/N." He was approaching like lava, slowly burning everything in his path. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you had to behave with dignity.

"Really? From my side, it looked like a perfectly planned trap." You said, hinting at the reason you were here. You smiled at the corner of your mouth. You didn't want to show this man how he affected you.

He crouched down in front of you. He smelled of cold freshness after a shower, mixed with something more personal - the tart scent of leather and spices.

There was a slight hint of bergamot in his scent, subtly mixed with the smell of black tea and a little wood, something deep and rich. There was also a faint trace of musk, the kind that made the skin react as if it had just been touched.

This scent was not intrusive, but dangerous in its restraint, just like him. It was the kind of scent that would stay on your pillow, on your fingers, on the inside of your wrist if you let it get close enough.

"And who is trapped now?" he asked. You smiled as you looked into his black eyes.

"Caught doesn’t mean defeated." You say and see his gaze boring into your lips. Your breathing instantly became uncontrollable.

You've always played this game. You made him lose control. He made you feel your body burning with anger. You wanted to break him, he wanted to conquer you.

But predators don't subdue. They either win or die.

You remember the moment when everything went wrong. You were sitting in the VIP lounge of the club, waiting for your sister to celebrate your brilliant victory. The deal that Jungkook wanted so badly was now yours. That's when the door slammed open, and they came for you.

Everything happened in a flash. People in black suits easily dealt with your bodyguards. They grabbed you, clamped your mouth, tied your hands, and in a few minutes you were sitting in a car. Without a word. Without the right to choose. And only then did you realize...

Jungkook is angry. Really angry. And then the prick in your neck and the darkness.

He stared at you for a long time, too long. Jungkook towered over you before he spoke. His voice was low and steady, but it vibrated with a dangerous note that sent a chill down your spine.

"You have no idea how much trouble you've caused me." His voice sounded calm, but it was seeping with menace.

You just tilted your head slightly, playfully, with a self-assurance that irritated him.

"If you're talking about how I took the deal with the Japanese partners away from you, I was expecting more fireworks, to be honest."

Something dark flashed in his eyes, something you'd seen many times before - rage hidden beneath an icy mask of control.

You and Jungkook had never been friends. You had known each other for years, but you had always been on opposite sides of the war.

You were the princess of the “Violet Dragons” clan. Your parents were the leaders of the clan, so from childhood, you knew what the world of shadows was and how to survive in it.

Your family controlled part of the city’s illegal business — casinos, underground clubs, and exclusive weapons trade.

You grew up smart, cunning, and ruthless, just like your parents, who unfortunately became victims of mafia conflicts.

You possessed that dangerous beauty that made men forget you could destroy them with a smile on your lips.

You remember well when Jungkook appeared. It was when your uncle took over the clan and you became his right-hand man.

He saw your potential, trusted your sharp mind and strategic thinking. In the mafia world, a woman could not officially lead, but she could guide. And you did it brilliantly. You became an integral part of the top of your family's clan. You planned. You acted. You played the game.

And Jungkook... He immediately established himself as a strong player. He didn't just enter the business, he took full control of it. His name quickly became the law. His word was a verdict. No one worked in this city without his permission. Those who wanted to stay alive bowed their heads to him.

But not you.

You never bowed your head.

Even though your uncle wanted to cooperate with Jungkook, you were against it. You saw him as a threat. Not a partner.

Instead of submitting to his sudden and overwhelming power, you fought for your place, taking away his contracts, disrupting his deals. You've been fighting this war for years - over people, over money, over power.

But something more than just hatred has been burning between you all along.

Your gazes lingered longer than they should have. Your conversations were always too intense, too provocative.

Your bodies were always too close when you met at formal events.

You knew he wanted you.

He knew you wanted him.

But neither of you could allow it.

Because as soon as someone submits, this game is over.

But here you are. You're tied up in his hands. Completely at his mercy. Jungkook looks at your face and for a moment he thinks that everything you did was on purpose. In order to be here with him, giving him the opportunity to destroy you.

"You think you're here because you blew my deal?" Jungkook grabbed the arms of the chair, squeezing them so hard that his fingers turned white. His face came closer to yours. "It's not the business, Y/N. It's you. You crossed the line." He growled. You tried to remain indifferent, but somewhere deep inside you, something trembled.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, putting on a dramatic tone. His smile was dangerous. He had seen you play too many times.

"You know what I mean. Last night, your little performance..." He explains. Before you could answer, he abruptly lifted you up with the chair, leaning forward so that your faces were almost level. His breath touched your lips.

"You made a fool of me. In front of everyone. My credibility has been undermined... You're overplay, princess." He sounded threatening, dangerous.

"This is business, Jungkook." You said, using his words, the ones he said to you every time he took a good deal or partner from under your nose. You sounded mocking, but he shook his head.

"No, princess. It was a game you played with me without thinking about the consequences."

You were silent, not knowing what to say. The smile that was on your face a moment ago disappeared. Of course, you knew that sooner or later he would realize that the deal that had been broken was your doing, but so soon?

He turned away, sat you back down, and walked a few steps away. He took off his jacket, then his watch. He threw it on the edge of the huge sofa. You watched his movements and could feel the tension between you growing.

You couldn't let him do anything to you. You had to get out of here. You had to save yourself. So while he wasn't looking, you tried to untie the rope. You were trained to do that. The world of the mafia required you to be strong and able to defend yourself.

Jungkook turned to face you and started to roll up his sleeves. The tattoos caught your attention, and he noticed it. But why was he rolling up his sleeves? Was he preparing to torture you? Or did he have something else in mind?

"I was standing two meters away. And I was looking into your eyes." he laughed softly, almost hysterically, not believing that you could pull off such a scam, "The same ones that are looking at me so brazenly now." His voice surprisingly sounded silky, dangerously soft.

You froze. The events of the previous evening flashed through your mind, the moment you stole the deal he'd been working on for two years from under his nose.

Jungkook had been negotiating hard with Kaizen Securities, a Japanese corporation that would have given him monopoly control of one of the largest illegal arms supply channels in Seoul. This deal was supposed to raise his status to the level of "untouchable" among all other players.

Since you had a long-standing rivalry with Jungkook, you planted a spy in his clan, who worked successfully for three years. You followed the negotiation process, which Minhyuk reported to you, carefully studying all the details.

You decided to do the following: let Jungkook almost finish the job, and then take back what was yours from the beginning. What your family lost when Jungkook arrived in the criminal arena.

Your last move was on the day the contract was signed. You used a fake identity, the name Hanako Shimada, and introduced yourself as an assistant to one of the Japanese directors, specializing in translation, negotiation, and legal support.

You arrived at the hotel where the meeting was taking place with the delegation, bribing the real assistant, who was "suddenly" hospitalized. You thought out your image to the smallest detail, so that it had nothing to do with your usual style, so that Jungkook would not recognize you.

You were dressed in a white business suit, with lenses, makeup, hairstyle, gait, even your voice slightly altered. You spoke flawless Japanese (because you lived in Japan until you were 16). Your accent was perfect. You played the role of an official - restrained, without a hint of your characteristic audacity.

You looked convincing to the last detail. Who would have suspected?

"I heard your voice." His voice darkened with each word. "Heard you translate every phrase, calmly, dryly, perfectly. Saw you hiding in a white suit and pretending to be someone else."

You were so confident and competent in your performance that he saw you as just another functional "gray mouse" and missed the punch right under his ribs. And now that he's already caught you, when he looks at you, he remembers everything - your gait, your eyes, the slight tilt of your head, the subtle smile - everything was right there in front of him, and he didn't see it.

He rolled up his sleeves and approached again, towering over you. Jungkook looked at you with his black eyes piercingly.

"You set me up, and I don't understand how I couldn't see you play, not recognize you..."

You looked at him silently. Your heart was beating somewhere in your throat, but your face was impeccably calm. He had just admitted that you had defeated him. That you hadn't just taken the contract - you had misled him so that he didn't recognize you from a few meters away.

You couldn't contain your triumph. You slowly raised an eyebrow and with a slight smile, said.

"It turns out I'm a really good actress."

You changed the terms of the deal behind Jungkook's back, telling the Japanese that he would not provide security guarantees. Posing as a trustee of a fictitious investor, you offered better terms: higher profits and security. The Japanese believed you and signed the contract right in his presence.

How sweet it was to see him humiliated in front of the Japanese, because he didn't recognize the manipulation and lost a lucrative contract.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his jaw twitched, but you continued, quietly, as if afraid to break the silence.

"And you, Jungkook, have become overconfident. You used to always see everything..."

His eyes darted between yours, sliding down to your lips, then to your neck, then to your thigh, which was visible through the long slit in your dress. You could almost physically feel his gaze touching your body.

His eyes returned to you.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No," you answered evenly. "I'm just reminding you who's had the upper hand in this game from the beginning."

You paused, still fumbling with the rope, and then said with poisonous tenderness.

"What did you think? That you could play on my turf for years, promise the Japanese control of the port my family has owned since my father's time, and I would keep quiet?"

His pupils dilated.

"You knew about the port?"

"I knew everything. Even which of your men had been leaking information to the Japanese." You were silent for a moment, savoring his defeat, and then spoke. "I won fair and square, Jungkook. I took what was rightfully mine."

"Fair?" He laughed, but there was nothing merry about it. "You played dirty. You lied, you bribed people, you made my partners change his mind." He runs his eyes over your face and almost can't control himself. Your self-confidence in your victory has made him angry.

You lift your chin proudly.

"So what? This is our world, isn't it? A world where the strongest take what they want by any means necessary." You argument. Jungkook leans in so that your lips almost touch.

"Yes, but the difference is that I'm stronger. And now you will play by my rules." His fingers touched your face, and you held your breath.

"And what are these rules?" You asked. Jungkook smiled, slowly, predatory.

"I'll show you. But first you have to understand one thing..." His fingers closed on your jaw, forcing you to look directly into his dark eyes.

"Because of your stunt, you are now at my mercy. And believe me, you will not be spared." He almost whispered it to you. You felt his breath on your lips. Your heart beat faster.

His fingers slid down and stopped at your throat. He didn't squeeze, he just touched, making you feel how close the edge was. His gaze slowly moved down, studying you, as if he was already deciding how you should obey him.

Jungkook suddenly turned away, held you with a cold gaze, and then walked away. You continued your struggle with the rope. A little more and you would be free.

He walked over to the table where there was a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He wasn’t in a hurry. He poured it slowly and turned to you, taking a sip. He liked knowing that this time, you wouldn’t run away. He didn't take his eyes off you. You didn't take your eyes off him.

Jungkook sat down on the sofa, drinking a honey-colored liquid. He sating across from you, looking at you calmly, as if he had won the battle in the end.

"I never thought I'd see you in such a helpless situation." His voice was low, savoring every word. He took another sip without hiding his smile. You clenched your jaw, not letting yourself show the fear that was still present, even though you tried to hide it deep inside.

"Enjoying?" You asked ironically, but your eyes were full of anger.

Jungkook twirled his glass in his hands and smiled, slowly, too confidently.

"You know what's the most interesting thing?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I could have put a stop to your antics a long time ago."

You snorted. The laugh came easily from your plump lips.

"You could have tamed me much sooner? But you only did it when I made a fool of you?" You said through your laughter.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He just looked at you, calmly, without taking his eyes off you, and there was something frightening in that look. Not brute aggression, but cold calculation. He enjoyed your resistance, knew that you would fight to the last - and that was what amused him.

"No. I was just wondering how far you could go. And now you've made your choice, princess." He finally said, twirling the glass in his fingers. "You played with fire, not realizing it could burn you." Jungkook took a sip of alcohol. He tasted the honeyed flavor, and smiled at the corner of his lips.

"Tell me honestly, you didn't think I was going to ignore this trick of yours like all the times before, did you? Let you play with me as you please?"

You lifted your chin sharply, even now not letting him see your weakness.

"You want to break me just because I defeated you?" you challenged. "Then you're much weaker than you look."

Something much darker flashed in his eyes. He put the glass on the nightstand, stood up and came closer.

"Do you think you've defeated me?" Jungkook repeated quietly, leaning in once more so that your faces were almost touching.

He always violated your personal space. He liked to keep you close, so close that you didn't have time to collect your thoughts.

"If it was really a victory, then why are you here - tied up, without any control over the situation, instead of celebrating your success?" his voice dropped to a velvety whisper, and every word penetrated your skin.

You pressed your lips together.

"You know it well. I'm not afraid of you, Jungkook," you said firmly.

He smiled, his eyes sliding over your face, and he straightened up. He liked to look down on you. His imagination painted scenes of you kneeling perfectly before him, and he looked down on you the same way. Something in his middle caught fire at the thought of your mouth on his cock.

But he calmed himself as quickly as he could and walked around you, standing behind you. You stopped untying the rope and clasped your hands together so he wouldn't see that it was loose.

Jungkook leaned down to your ear and said.

"This is good," he whispered. "Because fear is chaos. And I need order."

His fingers touched your neck, and you flinched. At his touch.

He slowly touched the collar of your dress, letting the fabric slip slightly off your shoulder. Your skin burned where his fingers had left a mark.

"It's time to teach you something really important."

"Ha-ha, teach? What can you teach me?" you asked with undisguised interest.

"Submission," Jungkook replied. The word came out of his mouth as easily as a breath. But there was power in it. A power that was frightening. "Submission." He repeated it almost gently, stroking your collarbone with his fingertips. "It's something you haven't known yet, but I'll take care of it." You felt indignation rising inside you.

"You're doing this again?" You said as if it were boring. "I'll never be yours, Jungkook." He smiled in a way that made you feel hot.

"Oh, don't you get it yet?" His voice was almost playful, but there was a metallic tinge of control in the deep timbre. "You are already mine, princess."

Jungkook was in front of you again. His hand grabbed your chin sharply, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

"Every fight between us, every moment when you woke up and thought about me, hating it... It all meant only one thing. You've always belonged to me."

Your breathing became heavier. And this time... you really felt that you were starting to suffocate, not just from fear. But also from confusing feelings that you shouldn't have felt.

He was taking over. He control a situation as a usual. But you hadn't lost yet.

All your emotions rushed out - and it was at that moment that you managed to escape. The rope slipped from your hands, and you hit him sharply, creating space for escape. His reaction was instantaneous, but you were already flying toward the door, half out of breath, consumed by a single desire-freedom.

Your hand almost touched the handle when Jungkook's fingers grabbed your wrist. You turned around, trying to strike, but he easily dodged. Your next move, a kick, was blocked.

In a second, you were pinned against a cold wall. Jungkook forced your arms behind your back, squeezing them to prevent you from breaking free. His body was pressed against you, and you could feel the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. His crotch was touching your buttocks, and your legs were locked with his.

"Want a fight?" he laughed low, touching your ear. You were both breathing heavily.

"Let go of me and I'll kick your ass in seconds Jeon," you said angrily. You suddenly felt his cock resting on your buttocks. He was aroused by your little fight.

"I think we'd better take this passion elsewhere," Jungkook said seductively, and he pressed in closer so you could feel the hardness of his cock even better. It was only then that you noticed a throbbing between your legs. And moisture was leaking onto your underwear. It was foolish not to admit that his proximity excited you as much as it excited him.

"You'll never have me, you bastard," you said, in defiance of your feelings.

Jungkook turned you around in one confident motion, still holding you so you couldn't hurt him. He smiled when he saw your hateful gaze. But you're pretending. He knows you want him.

"Oh, I can have you anytime. But you want it too, don't you princess?" he said, licking his lower lip. You stare at his lips, mesmerized. Fuck. You want to kiss him.

Jungkook finally let go of your hands, confident that you wouldn't fight anymore. He ran his fingers along your figure, lowering his hands to your hips. He slid his hand under your dress and squeezed your skin lightly. His touch was confident, almost possessive. Your hands rested on his chest, as if trying to push him, but your fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

"You're shaking, Y/N." He spoke softly, his voice hoarse and hot, seeping into your mind, making your heart beat even faster than before.

"You overestimate your influence over me." You tried to sound confident, but your voice trembled treacherously. "I will never play by your rules."

"But tonight you will," he lifted you by the hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, and carried you to the table behind him. You felt the cold surface against your skin and only then realized how hot you were from what was happening between you.

Jungkook was breathing heavily, barely able to control himself. He suddenly smiled, pressing you tighter to his aroused cock.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll break you." He was serious. His lips barely touched your neck, taking his time, leaving no marks, just burning you with his hot breath. You could feel his palms resting steadily on your buttocks, his fingers flesh squeezing to remind you that the power was his.

"Why don't you push me away, princess?" He whispered it right next to your ear, his voice breaking into hot pulses that ran through your entire body.

Your fingers clenched into fists. You should have resisted. You should have told him it was a game, that he wouldn't make you submit. But when his lips finally touched your neck, when his hot lips sucked in your tender skin, leaving marks, you lost the ability to think.

"You've been playing strong for so long that you've forgotten what it's like to just give in." He said when he had left enough hickeys on your neck. His voice was quiet, but it filled the entire space between you.

You didn't like the feeling of being under his control. But what you didn't like even more was how much you wanted it. You squeezed his shirt, as if balancing the desire to push him away and pull him closer.

"Tell me I'm wrong..." His lips stopped right next to yours. You met his gaze. Full of lust, full of power to conquer.

"I..." You paused, inhaled. Your pride dissolved, burned under that look. "...I hate you."

Jungkook smiled.

"Little liar."

His lips finally covered yours, sharply, all-consuming, so that you forgot how to breathe. It was an invasion. A struggle.

You squeezed his shoulders, trying to hold back - but your lips responded. At first it was a protest. Then it was an explosion. The kiss became deeper, hotter, as if you were both surrendering to all the emotions that had been building up for so long and burning from the inside.

His tongue penetrated you without asking for permission, just like everything else he did. And you... didn't stop him. Because you wanted it too. You wanted it.

He tore the zipper of your dress open and it gathered at your hips. The sight of your perfectly taut breasts, erect nipples, and goosebumps made Jungkook want more. He uncontrollably took one of your breasts in his hands and squeezed it. His wet tongue circled around your bud, tasting the pleasant taste of your nipples.

You were moaning above his head, just from his caresses, so what would you sound like when he entered you? When he fills you to the brim?

"Feel that?" His voice was husky, heavy with desire. You didn't know what he was asking specifically, whether it was his hard cock resting against your needy pussy or his power over you. But you felt it all. His strength. His desire. His complete control over your every move. "You've always belonged to me." He whispered it right next to your ear, breaking into a hot breath.

His hands, which had been under your dress, boldly reached for your underwear. He stopped, his lips still touching yours.

"Are you finally admitting it, princess?"

Silence. Only your breaths. The pulse in your temples. Hot air, saturated with tension. But you didn't say anything. Are you really losing this war that has lasted so long?

His hand moved your underwear to the side. Your body shuddered as he ran his fingers between the damp folds, easily finding a spot that made you sigh softly.

Jungkook smiled triumphantly. He massaged your clit, with slow, blissful strokes. When he plunged a finger into your passage, you grabbed his free hand, squeezing it.

"So wet... Fuck, you're just dripping onto my fingers, baby." He whispered. In between kissing your neck, your jaw, your breasts. He wanted to explore every inch of your body with his lips.

Jungkook added another finger to your passage and fucked you with it. He created a friction that made you want to feel something more.

"I want to hear that…Tell me I won." He demanded. His voice was full of power, he knew you belonged to him completely.

You opened your eyes and met his gaze, heavy and piercing. And you had to surrender. You had to admit it. You belonged to him completely and utterly. You wanted to be his. You fucking wanted this man to fuck you.

"You win, Kook. I'm yours." You whispered. He stretched you, plunged into every cell of your body, took you over, made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you'd ever tried to resist.

His movements became deeper, more confident. And you couldn't fight anymore-your hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, and you pulled them open randomly, wanting to tear them off.

Jungkook slipped his fingers out of your passage and helped you undress him. In the dim light of the suite, his body was so hot and sexy. His skin was perfect, every muscle as if carved by God himself.

You gulped in a breath, as your eyes touched his torso. Elastic, well-defined chest, broad shoulders. His abs, like marble, consisted of perfect lines that stretched down, right to the place where your imagination was already drawing the most daring images.

Your fingers reached for his body, sliding over his hot skin. Now you knew what his tattoos looked like, the ones that were always hidden behind his clothes.

There was ink that seemed to come to life under your touch. First, you noticed the words "Rather be dead than cool" tattooed in italics on his forearm, a phrase that perfectly matched his personality: bold, unrestrained, living to the fullest.

Above, on his wrist, was a delicate drawing of a tiger and a lotus, symbolizing strength and purity - a contrast similar to his own.

And on his shoulder was a large black flower, and your palm slid over it, gently, almost reverently.

You barely had time to enjoy the sight of it when Jungkook pulled off your dress and then simply tore open your thin black lace thong. You gasped, not expecting such behavior from Jungkook, but it seemed he was losing patience.

He had a sly smile on his face. His eyes never left yours, hungry, dark, and without mercy.

"You know, princess... Now that you're mine, I'm going to make sure you can never forget this moment."

He knelt between your legs. His gaze slid down to your center and he licked his lips like a predator who had finally gotten his prey.

His tongue slid over your folds, gently at first, exploring, making you arch with pleasure, and then deeper, harder, rhythmically, until your moans became shameless. His hands held your hips tightly, not letting you escape, not letting you even think about resisting. He worked his tongue as if he could drive you crazy with it alone, and damn it, he did.

Your stomach was in a knot, wave after wave passing through your body, making you squirm and gasp. You grabbed his hair, trying to hold back, but...

"Fuck..." you cursed, barely recognizing your own voice.

He lifted his head, his lips glistening with your wetness. He flicked his tongue across his lower lip, tasting you. His chest heaved rhythmically, He was on the verge, just like you.

"I can't wait any longer," he said hoarsely and stood up, shedding the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard, tense, ready for you.

You didn't look away. It was perfect. Big. Erect. And all yours.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the table, supporting you under your buttocks, and ran his head between your folds. Just teasing. Just playing.

"Tell me again. Who do you belong to?"

You clutched his forearm, your nails digging into his skin, your body trembling with anticipation.

"You... Jungkook. I belong to you."

"Good girl."

You thought Jungkook was going to take you right now. He was teasing you with those movements of his cock on your clit, but he didn't come in. You weren't expecting it when he pulled back and pulled you to the floor. Your buttocks were resting on the table, and in a moment Jungkook turned you around, bending you over the table.

Your breasts were on the table, your hands resting on the perfectly polished surface. Your hot breath left condensation.

Jungkook came up behind you, pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, and thrust. You felt him penetrate. He had barely plunged into you when you screamed in pain. He stopped when he felt you were in pain. You were tighty, he could feel it as he stretched you.

"How long since you had sex?" he asked in a low voice. You pressed your fingers tighter to the table, so that they turned white. Jungkook moved back and forth, as if breaking through an invisible barrier.

"It's been a long time," you breathed out, but your voice sounded sharp, like the thorns on a beautiful rose. Jungkook smiled, still moving lightly at the entrance. He stroked your thighs, soothing you.

"When was the last time?" he asked. You raised your eyebrows, why was he asking? You should talk less and act more. Even though you were in pain, you needed him inside.

"What the hell does it matter, just come in," you couldn't stand it. You heard Jungkook's guttural laugh. And then his hand was right in front of your eyes. He leaned down and touched your cheek with his lips.

"You're not supposed to be a virgin, are you?" his voice vibrated against your skin, making you tremble inside. His cock was still in your passage, but not fully penetrating.

"Don't even dream about being my first, I had sex before you," you said indignantly. You turned your head a few centimeters. You saw Jungkook's lips and it was at that moment that you felt him enter you completely. It was not very sharp, but you screamed.

Jungkook plunged into you until his hips felt yours. His balls touched your pussy and he froze, still leaning over you. You were breathing hard and fast, feeling pain, but it was being replaced by the pleasure of being filled with his cock.

"You're such a tight princess that even if you did have sex, that idiot had a small cock." he laughed again. "Who was that?" he moved his hips and you bit your lip to keep from screaming again. "Your assistant Dongmin, or was it In-guk, that piece of shit who was always hanging around you?"

Jungkook moved his hips slowly but deeply. He was careful, and you could tell he didn't want to hurt you. His breath was hot, burning your skin, spreading over it in a stormy wave.

"That was Taehyung," you said. Jungkook froze. You smiled because you knew it would surprise him.

"Taehyung?" he repeated quietly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper, and his gaze-though you couldn't see it-was probably as dark as a night storm.

His fingers tightened around your hips, and his breath came in shorter bursts. But instead of getting angry or pulling away, he slowly, almost painfully, moved inside you again, sinking deeper.

"I didn't know he had a small one..." Jungkook said it with a sneer, but you didn't laugh, because Taehyung didn't have a small one. Maybe a little smaller than Jungkook's. "Why... he?" he said hoarsely, as if he wasn't asking, but trying to understand.

You smiled out loud, a little cheekily.

"We had a common project, common interests, spent a lot of time together...and it happened." you said, holding back moans of pleasure.

Jungkook entered you, deeper and longer each time. His movements were slow but full of power. Jungkook felt a stab of jealousy that Taehyung was touching you. He saw the pleasure on your beautiful face, heard your moans... Before Jungkook did. That made he’s movements chaos.

Your fingers slid along the steamy surface of the table, looking for support. Your whole body merged with his in a rhythm that seemed endless.

Jungkook lowered himself, leaning even closer, almost completely covering your body with his.

His lips touched your neck, burning with every word he spoke:

"Shared interests?" he whispered, moving his hips so that you cried out again. "I wonder if he liked the way you squirmed under him too..."

You turned your head as sharply as your posture allowed and met his gaze defiantly:

"What, are you jealous?" you exhaled, trembling from the new thrust. "Maybe you're afraid he was better?"

His whole body tensed. In the next moment, Jungkook straightened behind you and abruptly, but not violently, withdrew from you almost completely... and then plunged in again, deeply, to the very core.

You screamed, clutching the edge of the table.

"Say it again," his voice was low, dark as thunder in the night, "and I make you forget who Taehyung, Dongmin, In-guk, and everyone else who ever dared to touch you is."

His hips pressed firmly against your buttocks again, and his hands were no longer gentle, but strong, saying: "now you are mine."

And you felt it - with every cell.

His fingers slid to your clit, stimulating you to unbearable sensations. He knew how to touch you, how to hold you to make you moan louder for him.

Your sounds filled the room. He picked up the pace, but didn't lose control. Your back pressed against his chest as he lifted you without leaving you. You could feel his heart - it was beating furiously, almost in unison with yours.

"From this night — you only mine," he said. You couldn't even imagine how much he liked the sound of that, "you should remember how you looked when I fucked you for the first time, so you never forget who was the best in you..."

With that, he pulled out of you. You felt your passage hurt. Your pussy was swollen and throbbing unbearably. You tried to normalize your breathing when you felt Jungkook grab you, throwing you over his shoulder. Your bodies touched again, raising the temperature of each other. His hand was on your bare buttocks.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" you said in agony in front of his buttocks. He couldn't help himself and slapped your ass.

"Going to show you how amazing you are when my cock is deep inside you," he said playfully.

Jungkook carried you into the bedroom. It was dark, but not completely. The lights of the city at night illuminated it barely, but it was enough to see what you needed to see.

You saw Jungkook carry you past the big bed and set you on your feet. In front of a mirror.

You looked at your reflection and saw a girl who was naked, with marks on her neck and chest. She was disheveled with swollen lips.

Jungkook hugged you close. You saw his face and sly smile in the mirror. His big palm touched your stomach.

"Just look how beautiful you are," he said in your ear, not taking his eyes off yours in the mirror, "how beautiful you are when you give yourself to me," he whispered, squeezing you more closer. His lips barely touched your skin, but your body was already on fire from this touch. You looked in the mirror and couldn't recognize yourself.

He grabbed your jaw and turned you around, kissing you. His tongue went into your mouth as if he was the master. Your tongues intertwined, wrestling just like you had all those years before. Finally, he bit your lower lip and let you go.

Jungkook led you to the mirror and you reflexively grabbed the frame. You let him dive into you again. This time he went in less painfully but still deeply, keeping his gaze on your reflection.

"Don't look away," his voice was warm but commanding, "I want you to see what I'm doing to you. So that every time you think back to this night, you will remember yourself like this. Mine."

His hips started moving again, gradually speeding up. His arms held you tightly, one cupping your breasts, the other sliding down between your legs. He touched you gently and hard at the same time, mixing pleasure with fierce passion exists.

You were trembling, and every movement of his body made you forget how to breathe.

"So who's fucking you so good, huh princess?" he hissed, staring at your mirror reflection.

You didn't answer, just exhaled his name, shuddering at his fingers on your clit.

"You…" you hardly breathe, "You Jungkook..."

You held back moans from the intense stimulation, the feel of his big cock inside you. And Jungkook didn't like it.

"Louder," he grunted. "I want to enjoying your scream."

You listened to him. You couldn't hold back any longer. Your loud moans, almost screams, filled the entire space around you. They were intertwined with the sounds of your bodies hitting each other, and they were almost sinful.

His cock moving inside you, hot, hard, ruthless. And your whole body merged with him in this rhythm - wild, honest, real. As if he knew no mercy.

He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck.

"I'm going to cherish this moment in your memories, because this is just the beginning of our fun adventure."

You let go of all your feelings as your orgasm hit you like a storm. Your body arched in his arms, the last, loudest moan burst from your chest, and your mind exploded with white light.

Jungkook hit you hard a few more times and came out of you. He came on your ass with a hoarse, low growl.

He put his wet forehead against your back, which was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

Your breaths merged into one, your hearts were beating furiously. His arms did not let go, his body did not move away. All you could feel was the weight of his cock on your buttocks and his warm, thick cum dripping down your legs.

You moved, forcing Jungkook to pull away. His cum dripped down your legs, dripped onto the floor, but neither of you seemed to care.

You turned around to face him. Jungkook was still breathing deeply, but he had a satisfied smile on his lips. You smiled too, but slyly, playfully.

"So…it happened," you said first. Jungkook pulled you to him. His lips covered yours, completely. Absorbing you, just as he had done with your body. With your soul. Having enjoyed your lips enough, he broke the kiss. You slowly opened your eyes. They were sparkling.

"It happened, princess, are you satisfied?" he asked, carefully studying your expression.

"Do I have to tell you the truth? Or can I tease you?" you asked playfully. His fingers on your waist squeezed your skin tighter.

"Only tell the truth... because if you lie to me again, or deceive me... you will not receive my mercy, anymore" he warned in a soft voice not without a touch of menace.

"It sounds like a another challenge..." you said, "but if tell honest, I'm really satisfied," you kissed him on the lips, a short touch, and when you pulled away a few centimeters, seeing his eyes closed, you whispered, "you fucked me so good."

Jungkook opened his eyes when he heard your words, but you had already disappeared. He saw you hurriedly walked towards the bedroom door.

"I need to take a shower," you threw over your shoulder and disappeared behind the door.

When you got out of the shower, you didn't find Jungkook. You heard the sound of water coming from the other bathroom and knew this was your chance to run away from him. You put on the dress that was lying on the floor in the living room, but you sewed up your thong because Jungkook had torn it.

You grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote him a short message. You signed it with a kiss and the first letter of your name.

You grabbed key card, opened the door of hotel room and left without being stopped.

Jungkook took a quick shower, replaying your sex in his head. He was excited and happy that you would finally be his. The way you moaned and screamed his name made his mind go wild. And he was going to get even more from you.

Jungkook walked into the living room and heard silence. He became alert, looking around for you because you weren't in the bedroom.

His eyes fell on the white paper left on the table. Nowhere to be seen was your burgundy dress, which he had taken off you somewhere around here. Jungkook laughed as he walked over to the table. Did you really run away and leave a note?

He held the white piece of paper between his two fingers, skimming the contents.

"You still didn't catch me, but I'll be more careful than today. I'm looking forward to your hunt for me. What will be our next meeting? I'm sure you're already waiting for it.

P.S. Thanks for the show anyway, guy with the dark eyes.

Y/N 💋"

Jungkook clenched the piece of paper into a fist. And then he laughed. He sat down on the couch with his head on the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling.

You run away again. You had outsmarted him again. Again made his thoughts boil with the possibility of knowing a way to get you. He closed his eyes tiredly, but a smile played on his lips was predatory.

"No mercy now, Princess. The darkness pulls you under before you know it..." was the sound in his head.

[starsweepers]

    STORM WASN’T SO IMPRESSED.  it didn’t help he couldn’t indulge in the sugary and lightly chocolatey snack, so his attention towards the whole debacle at hand ( paw? ) was next to none.  he remained sprawled in his own bed nearby, just sideglancing the two as though wishing they would go to sleep already…  it DELIGHTED dawn just how much of an old, grumpy fellow her beloved canine could be, and she winked ( a loose term considering it was more a scrunch of both her eyes ) an apology to him before chomping down the last bit of her treat.         “it tastes better, too.”  nodding as though her words could solve wars.  dawn’s legs awkwardly kicked out as she attempted to flop back into her pillow, trying to sink amongst its comfort.  warm gaze observed airin k n e a d i n g, always finding it such a cute behavior.  she enjoyed watching her siblings’ cats do it, as well.  “i thinks mommy and daddy would be more worried ‘bout how hyper i would get.  bzzzzzz!  like a bumblebee just alllllll over the place.”

It may not be magic to her, but it’s magic to him. Older humans appear to be super smart… then you start talking to kids. Their imaginations and problem solving are on a different level. Who would think to do such precise surgery on a little cookie like this? Not someone in their thirties– that’s for certain.

His purrs can’t combat with her giggles. So he stretches his forelimbs into her soft, messy comforter to knead them. “ So it’s snow that’s not snow? Well, at least this snow doesn’t disappear when you lick it, yeah? ” Chitters bubble from his maw. “ I don’t think your parents want you having a whole tub of it though… that’s a lot of cookies to make smaller. ”

[shorthaltsjester]

Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Red Storm

Heroes and Monsters by Penny & Sparrow // Critical Role Campaign 3

[toxinoire]

Okay okay so the scene where Glinda and Elphaba were about to escape the palace via hot air balloon, they failed because the roof closed.

But imagine what would have happened if it hadn't.

The balloon would fly, and they would escape.

Where do the winds take them?

Kansas.

Specifically, to where Dorothy is.

Dorothy, who's still around like 6 or 7.

So by some miracle, Dorothy's family lets them stay since someone needs to watch the young child while they're all away. So they basically become nannies/older sisters/substitute parents to this child.

Elphaba loves using her magic to make the little one laugh. And Glinda loves helping Dorothy dress up. The magic is a well kept secret.

Elphaba teaches Glinda some magic. While Glinda is not as powerful nor can she do as much, there are little things she can do. Such as make small objects float towards her, make flowers bloom, and control bits and pieces of light (I personally think magic is connected to not only emotion but personality).

As time passes by, Gelphie finally dates because 10 year old Dorothy one day asks Elphaba "where's your girlfriend?" while Glinda was just in the other room. Leading to an inevitable talk.

Gelphie's relationship is a well guarded secret by them and Dorothy, it took a while to explain to Dorothy why it's not so safe to tell others yet (remember the year this was made y'all), but she eventually got it.

When Toto was given to Dorothy, he did nawt like Glinda at first. He did eventually warm up to her, but Glinda still pouts about it sometimes.

Now the storm--well, tornado.

So, the house finally lands. Elphaba and Glinda step out first to make sure it's safe for teenage Dorothy to be outside.

And then the dawning realization that they're back at Oz strikes them.

And from the posters they see, it's clear that Elphaba is still wanted. Though this time, so is Fiyero. Because Fiyero lost Elphaba, the girl he's in love with but hadn't told, and Glinda (whether or not you personally believe he and Glinda had truly been in love may vary, but he cared about her, that's his bestie), he decided to take a stand as well. But of course, he had been painted as the wicked vigilante. Now, as for Glinda, she had been used to make Elphaba seem more of a villain--Morrible had been saying that Elphaba kidnapped her.

Dorothy is wondering why their names are all over this place Dorothy never heard of. Glinda and Elphaba are just like "sit down for this"

Dorothy is just "...I love that, actually."

And so now, they have to find a way home, then Elphaba fucking sees who's under the house.

And that night is spent through Elphaba crying in Glinda's arms, Glinda trying her best to comfort her, and Dorothy is also trying her best to be there.

Elphaba gets to keep the shoes this time.

Now their main question is how the fuck do they get home (they don't know of the shoes, how could they when they've been away from Oz for too long), find Fiyero, and maybe Boq, and maybe take the wizard down if they have time. How do they do all that when Elphaba is still blacklisted and Glinda is seen as some victim?

(Then maybe Glinda thinks out loud, what if there was a universe she hadn't been able to be there for Elphaba? And then the Dragon clock answers "Every other universe, you weren't there. Every other, you could never reunite. This is the only one you do." And upon hearing those words, Glinda becomes even more determined to stand by Elphaba's side because since his the only universe she stood with her, as an apology on behalf of her other selves, she'll make up to all the other Elphie's as much as she can here where she has this privilege to be with her)

[threebea]

I was thinking about how the Padawans being part of the war effort DOES suck and kind of bother me, but for some reason I don't really see it as an in universe moral failing of the Jedi.

First I was like: well Star Wars is aimed at kids . A pov character that is a kid makes sense. Especially in the early seasons of TCW and Rebels. This was added in the cartoon and it became part of movie canon after the fact that Padawans held military rank. Suspension of disbelief etc etc.

Then I was like... Wait. Padme was fourteen when she became elected queen, and although it was supposed to be a peaceful rule it got to the point where other fourteen-year-olds became her body doubles in case of assassinations. She also goes and leads an army to take back her planet. At no point was anyone like: you know what you're fourteen you should probably stay at base camp while we do this. We don't actually need you for the storming the palace part.

The GFFA in universe does not place moral significance on it. It isn't weird. If it did there is no way Shmi would have said: yes my nine year old son will do the death race when he doesn't have to even though he has never won or finished before. The plot must allow the gffa to be okay with child endangerment with the good guys still being good guys. No one says Shmi is a terrible mom when she agrees to let Anakin do it. She wasn't being coerced she's just convinced that the only way to help people is to put a nine year old in a death race. In real life if she did that we'd be horrified. And remember Padme isn't bothered because of Anakin's age she's bothered that they're staking everything on a random kid.

So Padawan Commanders makes sense in the GFFA.

Although yeah it makes sense to feel bad about Padawan Commanders in the real world, it also doesn't really say anything about the Jedi and their morality. They're pretty in step with the rules of morality of the universe.

The GFFA has similarities, but it isn't our galaxy.

Would I want children in real life to be trained as Jedi? No. I wouldn't want an eight year old to be trained as crimefighting hero Robin either. It's only when we're looking back at these things through an adult lens and ground fantasy in reality that it becomes a problem.

If you don't want to suspend your disbelief that's fine. But can you make moral judgements on the Jedi without looking at anyone else in the galaxy about this one particular fact? I don't think you can.

I don't know, funny to think about. Especially with the newer media which is aimed at for adults with nostalgia. Then the story does try to seem grounded in reality, but also trying to justify the past where our belief was suspended.

[grimdarling69]

Another de aged Ellie and Dan or otherwise known as Crack

P1 P2 P3

Damian is now regretting every decision that led to where he was at this point in his half-life.

He felt so if he had been battered by a storm all night long and he was pretty sure he was having fever dreams because fucking Lex Luthor is currently dabbing at his head with a damp towel.

Come on, Damian. You're better than this. Get up and fight him. Father would be disappointed if I failed to stop whatever luthor was scheming because of a common cold. He could already see his father's face, his disappointment shrouded in the shadows created by the looming stalactites in the cave. He'd take away Robin, he lose Richard's first gift to him. He couldn't let his baba down.

He tried to shed the blankets but his body failed him and he had to resist a coughing fit. He shivered cold and clammy. His body felt heavy and his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortablely. His hair was a mess and clouded his vision.

"Rest now, ghostling. Your very sick. I need to get you into some new clothes and quickly." he murmured quietly, leaning forward and plying his bangs from his face. For a second he thought he was going to kiss his head and he started struggling again.

"Don't-" He attempted but his voice broke off into a coughing fit. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Shh.. shhh...drink." he gently lifted a glass of water with a childishly pinky bendy straw to his lips. His gentle voice and calm actions remindimg him of his baba and he stupidly started to drink it before he remembered where he was and resisted again.

Luthor didn't seem surprised but didn't attempt to speak to him again and gently pushed him back down onto the bed. His eyes were heavy and he had to repeatedly jerk his head to stay awake.

Ancients, what was wrong with him he was a trained assassin. Not to mention Robin he could survive days without even a second of sleep.

Luthor pushed the door open again and carried soft looking sleepwear in his hands. When did he leave? The sleepwear had little stars and moons and suns periodically spread about. He couldn't help but admire them.

"Please don't fight me, Dani- Damian. You have to get out of those drenched clothes. If you sleep in them, you'll just get sicker. Come on, you love the stars." He tried in vain to fight him off, but eventually Luthor was cringing at him, scratches all over his arms and face, holding the wet clothes in one hand.

"Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He turned the lights off and closed the door.

He waited a second to make sure he was actually gone. Once he was sure, he tried to wrangle him self off the bed but kept having to blink and rub his eyes. He had finally succeeded in getting out from under the blanket before he couldn't stay awake any longer and passed out from exhaustion.

---------

Vlad because he was Vlad Masters sometimes known as Vlad Plasmius or ugh the Wisconsin Ghost not Lex Luthor he had spent far to long redeeming himself and becoming a productive member of society to be reincarnated into a cruel ceo who cares only about his image and money and destroys the earth to make it. Creating pollution, ruining lives for no reason, abusing his powers, and trying to kill his archnemesis. Okay, maybe he was being a bit hypocritical, but he was redeemed already, and now he had to start all over!

Every villian worth their salt knows that archenemesiss are for life and he was a redeemed one for goodness sake. He may of fought his godson a lot in his early days but he had been alone for so long. He was a ghost they bonded by fighting! He also apologized for not realized that he didn't know ghost culture yet. He assumed he'd gotten a mentor ghost somewhere like he had the dairy king to teach him and once he realized he made him take lessons with that yeti docter of his.

He was the only one of his kind for decades and it certainly didn't help when his best friends abandoned him after killing him. Jasmine loved to physcoanalyze him she often tried to talk to him about his abandonment issues caused by his parents' deaths worsened by his older sister walking out on him and his future almost destroyed because of Jack Fenton and a fucking soda. That his obsession with Madelyn was caused by the fact he was desperate for family and latched onto the first thing that could give him one.

He didn't approve of cursing, he had kids-god-children that didn't need to hear it but he supposed he could excuse it just this once. Or twice.

When his godson had crashed into his island he felt the presence of his other kids but it was diluted almost. He hoped that whenever Damian woke up he could give him some context.

That was another thing. Somehow, his incredibly gifted and smart godson had apparently but reincarnated as Brucie Wayne's son. He could hardly believe it, but it was also worrying he had found some heavy scaring on him. Everywhere he was covered in scars, some had to be a decade old, at least. Whoever hurt his son was going to pay.

"Mr Luthor, sir?" His assistant knocked on his door.

Ugh, Luthor wasn't terrible he had to admit it had a nice ring to it was just-Lex?... disgusting.

"Come in."

"The um...children's cold medicine is here." She spoke unsure, but handed the specially ordered medicine over. It was brought over by a very good drone from the nearest industrialized island, perks of being a billionaire. He had even more money than in his previous life.

"Aw thank you, Susan." She blinked at him while he took the package she'd been with him since before Konner and so it was understandable she wasn't used to him just now caring to remember her name. Konner... he'll have to contact him to set up a meeting between his new son and his brother soon.

"Will you alert the chefs to cook a simple breakfast for us. No onions and no meat. He'll need to eat with this one. Have it brought to his room." He barely remembered that his godson won't be eating meat anymore after he remembered from one chance meeting at a gala but he had always hated onions and he was quite familiar with his rants about the texture of onions by now.

"Yes, sir. Right away" She quickly exited his office. He still wasn't used to humans being on his island, he typically only had animal ghosts with him or his kids if they weren't busy it was quite strange but he was trying to turn down his Vladness.

He stopped to grab a water bottle and started to head to Damian's room. He knocked on the door and waited. Dead silence met him, the white walls of the hallway was only makeing it worse. He forced himself to not think of the past, his whimpers while he had to stitch him together again for if he made to much sound they would hear him , while slowing opening the door.

He was thankfully asleep, and his fever seemed like it was going down. He packed up the damp towel and started to dab his forehead again. His eyes started to stir.

"Vlad?" His now much younger godson questioned looking even younger he seemed small for his age but he was like that in his past life too.

"I'm here." The sigh of relief spoke for itself. Damian stole the hand not currently in use, a familiar reminder that was common practice for them. His eyes closed again. He took the quiet moment to lament on each of his kids.

Jasmine, the oldest, once told him he was her rich and eccentric uncle. She never needed him in the ways her siblings did. She only lived with him on college breaks anyway. She never needed him to pay for her college, she had no shortage of scholarships. While he loved her, they were still distant. And then she was gone.

Dan, he had adopted him in his originak timeline after...an incident. Dan was always difficult in ways his siblings weren't. Dan was most similar to him, he was half of him afterall, and this often caused many different fights between them. Dan being full ghost often lived with Clockwork anyway. He'd always love him but things were always going to be messy between them.

Ellie, his blood daughter and Daniel's clone. The only one that outright considered him her father but she was very independent and he typically only saw her on weekends too busy traveling the world to have a movie night with her dear old dad. He loved her, but they fought alot she always wanted more independence and he just wanted to see his daughter.

Daniel or Damian now had always seemed to need him the most. Sticking around Amity Park even after the GIWs attack. Always asking questions about being a ghost or being an adult really. And even before that he could often find him somewhere in his house after his patrols around Amity he asked him a few times why he came around even before he had redeemed himself and could only ever get " because it's quiet but now you're here so I have to go. See ya fruitloop" and when Damian came to live with him his friends were usually there and sometimes he felt it was more a teenagers clubhouse than a mayoral manor. But he was really the only constant in his life. And in the beginning he was too injured to be alone, floating at the edge of fading away forever, so they were constantly together and they grew closer and as much as Vlad always saw him as a son he doubts Damian sees him as a father. Jack was his father and Madelyn was his mother. He knows that he still sees them as his parents even after everything he was willing to forgive them. He would never admitt it but sometimes he's glad they never came back as ghosts.

And konner...He wasn't really sure about him. He was his son, his clone he created with Superman. While he of course still had Luthors memories, and luthor seemed to love him but he often pushed him aside. He was second to his goal of killing Superman. He would have to work really hard to repair their relationship but first he needed to get to the Infinate Realms.

Soft knocking broke him out of his thoughts. " Come in."

"Sir. Your food has been prepared." Susan pushed in a large cart with 3 tiers. While this life seemed to be all about the pinnacle of opulence, his first was spent majority in bachelorhood, enough said about that.

She parked the cart close to the bed but not enough to be a hindrance. Damians eyes fluttered at the light but stayed still.

Susan looked at Damian in barely hidden concern and he could tell that Susan Darnaby, mother of three boys ranging from the ages of 24 to 15 had strong maternal instincts. Her oldest apparently worked at the Daily Planet and was apparently the main breadwinner of the family after his dad passed away a few years ago from cancer leaving the family in serious medical debt. He might have reread everybody's file and maybe everything he could find on them. The last thing he needed was one of his employees calling cps on him for stealing a child.

"He has already benefited from his rest last night, this medicine will have him in tip-top shape in no time. There's no need to worry." He attempted to reassurance her.

"Of course sir." For some reason she didn't look very reassured and with once last glance at their hands, left quietly.

"Whuz her." Damian mumbled from where his head was stuffed slightly beneath the pillow to block the light from getting in. He snickered and fixed the pillow. Damian pouted.

"My assistant, Susan. You know she has a son around your age." Damian looked positively scandalized.

"Vlad! I am not dating anyone that is affiliated with you!" He sat up and wacked him with the pillow.

"Oof. Ow." The pillow didn't really hit imhim hard it was worryingly gentle, something Damian would never hold back on he once challenged him to a pillow fight but stuffed his with rocks and we both ended up give each other stitches using the bathroom tiles to ice their bruises.

"You know i never said anything about dating, my boy. Now let's see what was prepared." Damians breakfast consisted of small cake like pancakes shaped like stars with bananas and blueberries arranged like a small constellation. While his was some larger normally shaped pancakes with sliced strawberries and bananas arranged around the outer rim. The other two tiers consisted of several scone and jams and of course clotted cream after on the second day Ellie went on a loud rant right outside the kitchen on how offended she was to not be served clotted cream. The last tier consisted of several small deserts and muffins. He even spotted Damian's favorite muffin, blueberry cheesecake. Or well in his previous life at least, he placed it on his plate anyway, couldn't hurt to try.

"I'm not really hungry." Damian waved him off.

"You have to eat to take this medicine and I know you haven't eaten since you flew in last night, or even longer. Most of this stuff we can cover up and leave out, so you can eat it later if you want." Damian hated when he used logic in his previous life but from what he can remember about his few meetings in this life he liked logic and academics and was quite ahead according to Brucie.

Damian begrudgingly ate the muffin, some fruits and a messily cream and raspberry jamed scone. He only had a bite off the corner star of the pancake before deciding he wasn't a fan of the recipe. Vlad ate both of his pancakes, most of the fruits on his plate, a chocolate muffin, and a cream and apple jam scone. Unfortunately the peace couldn't last because as soon as he deemed Damian had ate enough and gave him the medicine he decided now would be the time to talk.

" I think I'm pregnant." Damian stated calmly staring into his tea cup.

Vlad dropped his own cup and watched the beautiful fine china shatter.

"Your...What?" He spluttered.

"Technically incubation. Dan and Ellies bodies completely destabilized and I merged with their cores to save them. It's something Frostbite briefly taught me." He continued.

Thank god.

"Why didn't you just start with that like a normal person. Are you okay? Is anything hurting not feeling alright?" He could hear himself growing more frantic.

"I'm fine Vlad. There not parasites. Well ellie isn't atleast. We'll have to check with Frostbite for everything else, so we'll need to stsrt the portal as soon as possible"

"You'll need to take the medicine for at least a week before I let you start working around such heavy machinery, but i suppose you can do some calculations up here."

"What! I have to get to Frostbite. How do we know we're doing the right thing? What if...I...do something to hurt them." His voice grew quiet and he closed his eyes both arms came to reach across his stomach and his legs slightly raised and he started to hunch over himself.

"Oh, Damian. I've read about incubation before. Ghosts only allow them selves to merge in such a way with people they must truly trust. If they merged with you, nothing will go wrong. Nothing you can do will hurt them." He moved as he was speaking, sitting down on the bed now. Damian and him had reached the same height in his last life but now his new body was much larger, in both height and muscle, than Damians short height and lean muscle. Made even smaller by him shifting into a ball.

"I don't know. I still had so much to learn and what if we can't open the portal again?" He leaned into him his shoulder more level with his head.

"Have you no trust in your old man? I opened the portal on my own last time with only minor Fenton thievery, thank you. Besides,The only setback I've faced here are the corrupted ectoplasm pools." Damian snickered at him, so he knew his joke wasn't for naught. Until he went rigid suddenly.

"Wait what corrupted pools?"

"The green ectoplasm on this island has pooled together somehow and corrupted itself by laying dormant for sometime. Instrsd of the typical cool and chilling effects the green usually has it seems to be almost acid like. Bubbling and burning things, but I've constructed a purifier that seems to be working well enough." He explained quite confused by Damians sudden change in attitude.

"Why didn't I see i before? Ancients this is worse than i thought..." He stood up suddenly, beginning to pace and run his hands through his hair.

"Slow down. What's going on?" He questioned aiming for placading him, Damian needed rest and minimal stress while sick AND incubating two cores.

"The Lazurus Pits! Their corrupted ectoplasm! Grandfather harnassed them to bring the dead back and get pseudo immortality." He stopped dead at the last word but his back was to Vlad. He's never heard of Lazarus pits before...his grandfather? Thomas Wayne was immortality? But he's dead!

"Thomas Wayne is...immortal?" He questioned as such.

"What? What made you come to that insane conclusion?" He turned to face him, he looked concerned like Vlad was the crazy one muttering.

" Your grandfather?" He looked like a fish, blinking and moving his mouth like he wasn't sur what to say.

"That's actualy not even the craziest thing ive heard actually. No, Ra's al Ghul, the Demon Head is my maternal Grandfather, my mother is Talia al Ghul." What the fuck.

" Brucie Wayne slept with the demons daughter?" Damian couldn't hold back his laughter anymore and burst into laughter turning into a coughing fit, that shook his ribs, and he leant over like he wa going to fall. Vlad quickly moved to support him.

"I'm fine, fruitloop. I just need some water." Vlad steered him to lay back down on the bed. "Stop it fruitloop, your not even my..." he didn't need mind reading powers to know what he was going to say.

" I know." He still tucked him into bed. Moving to turn out the star nightlight out.

"Batman is my father. Batman is Bruce Wayne" I think I'm going to faint.

"The other..." "my siblings." "Of course, no matter what universe we're in you have a crazy family." " You can't talk you made a clone with your archenemy in both lives AND added your own DNA both times."

"It was an accident the first time!" He spluttered.

"Not the second time!" Damian returned.

"I think you need a nap, young man." He sassed.

"Vlad! I am not a baby!" He ignored that remark.

"I'll have Susan wake you up at lunchtime and we'll go to the lab. Is that acceptable for you?"

"Tch." Damian turned around and closed his eyes. He finally succeeded in turning off the lights.

"Sleep well, son." Closing the door softly.

Whatever was a half-ghost to do?

‐--------

Clark Kent was an avid hater of the waiting game. Although he was no stranger to it. It had been now a week since Damian disappeared. Tim had called his sons and broke the news. They had quicky wrapoed everything up and flew back. Jon had yelled at him for hours about having to hear about Damians disappearance from Tim. He just didn't know how to break the news to him. He knew Jon felt betrayed by him especially because they were finally stsrted healing their relationship after everything. Even worse because Jon had finally confided in him how he felt about Damian and now he didn't even tell him when he was kidnapped.

From what he's heard from Bruce, Jon can't hear his heartbeat, but knowing Lex he's most likely kept behind lead so not a totall loss of hope it just means they need detectives not supers.

So he was back at work after parting with Lois he had headed to the break room to get more coffee when he heard it.

"So what Lex has a few sick kids and you think child trafficking? We can't lose another income, mom. Ignore it. Please." He heard his coworker, one he often listened listened in to as his mother coincidentally worked at Lexcorp.

He focused his hearing onto the mother's voice on the other side of the phonecal.

" You don't get it. I can't just ignore it. He experimented on those kids then put them to bed like it was just another day. And then suddenly the kids are gone and the next day another kid is here? It's not right! Something is going on. Wveryday he wakes him up and they est breakfast then they go down to his private lab and dont come out till lunch sometimes until dinner. Last night they didn't come out till midnight and he carried the kid to his own bedroom. There's something going on and I've seen to many rich men take advantage of young children. I can't ignore this again."

Oh god, what if Bruce was wrong about Lex somehow figuring out his identity. What if he noticed him at a gala and took a liking to him. As a reporter he done countless stories on people in high positions who took advantage of their positions of authority to hurt kids. Lex had never seemed that way to him but how well did he really know him anyway? He had some kind of breakdown that changed him anyway. He needed to talk to someone who was familiar with people like this.

He has to call Jason.

A/n I took this chapter to hash out my thoughts on a redeemed father vlad and kis kids. Danny is obviously his favorite, but he does love all of his kids they just don't feel the need to stick around Amity Park like I think Danny would. Danny is also his character foil, and I wanted to tie in both parallels into both him and bruce with vlad. So that is not Canon vlads backstory but something i thought about with the fact he is desperate or obsessed with the idea of a family. Also, if you see any inconsisties between Damian and vlads' povs and the "attack," their might be a reason hint hint. I also wanted to say that vlad and lex are both quite similar in concept but vlad in my au decided to become better for his kids and to choose them first not like lex who loves kon in his own way but is still second to his own mission. vlad very much is more vlad than he is lex mostly because he sees himself in lex if he didn't choose his kids over villainy. While Damian and danny are now more of a mix between each other. I like to think that the danny that saw a random girl who just said she was his cousin and just rolled with it would just roll with the flow if he was reincarnated. I also wanted to bring up the fact that vlad and Damian will pick up the pace and be a lot more worried as you'll see next part and right now the bats are in a disarray trying to find him. Also the supers I only had Jon age up 2 years older than Damian cause he will be a bigger part of the story and I needed him older hint hint he has his mother's purple eyes in this story.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

It's Time to Put Hitler to Bed

Over the last 20 years it's become increasingly common when talking about western politics to try and tie the political opposition to Hitler. It goes beyond Godwin's Law at this point, because it's no longer just in internet phenomenon. It happens in real life. In real conversations and real debates. All sides do it. No issue is safe. And it's beyond ridiculous at this point. It needs to stop.

So let's just stop talking about Hitler altogether when it comes to western politics.

He's dead. He's gone. His ideology died with him. Yes, you read that right. National Socialism is dead. It was a very specific ideology with goals and aims beyond being racist and hating Jews. Nowhere on Earth is there a serious National Socialist party with any political power or any chance at gaining any. Modern day neo-nazis are nothing more than edgelord racists desperately trying to grab some of the "shine" Hitler has with other idiots for themselves. They're awful. They're racist. They should grow the fuck up. But they aren't nazis. They aren't storming government buildings and they aren't winning political office. Most of them aren't even committing crimes. They're just sitting online or in a basement somewhere snort-laughing like Bevis and Butthead while they whisper "k*ke" and "n*gger" to each other and post pictures of ovens with captions like "where the Jews go". How basic and boring. They are beyond lame, and it's long past time we stop bigging these people up like they're some huge existential threat to humanity itself. They're not. They're just pathetic losers who have no power over anyone, not even themselves.

Does this mean we should forget the Holocaust? No. Of course not. We should always remember what Hitler did. But if we don't take the right lessons from that dark era in human history, then we might as well forget it because misremembering, on purpose or by accident, is just as bad as forgetting.

Hitler was an evil man who did evil things. He is a cautionary tale to never let rhetoric overwhelm your better nature. He is a warning of what happens when you give into hate out of fear or anger. But that's it. He does not influence anyone with power. Not in the west. No one in the west is actually trying to be like Hitler. And as evil as Hitler was, not everything he did was automatically evil just because he did it. And that right there is the main problem with the modern trend of accusing everyone you don't like of being Hitler. Hitler did a lot of things. He woke up. He ate breakfast. He fell in love. He breathed air. He got dressed. He gave speeches. He liked art. He was a human being. I don't say this to downplay the evil things he did or to try and create sympathy for him. But surely you can easily see how literally every single person on Earth has something in common with Hitler just by virtue of also being a human being, yes?

Hitler was also a politician. Which means that, yeah, every politician is going to have a position that's at least similar to something Hitler proposed or enacted in his political career. His views and platforms ranged far and contain things that are both left and right wing. Things which, in the hands of someone other than Hitler, most likely would not have led to the Holocaust. Because the Holocaust is an evil that was unique to Hitler. He baked genocide into his ideology, then codified and streamlined it after gaining power. His was a cold and inhumane calculation that only the Aryan race as he defined it was worthy of life. That every other race, everyone who didn't fit his idea of purity, must be killed to preserve his Master Race. There have been other genocides before and since, but none quite as industrialized and far reaching. And, in the west at least, there is no one with any power who wants to reenact anything that even comes close to the Holocaust. Not even that politician you really hate. Not even that activist group that promotes that awful ideology.

All accusations of being Hitler, or like Hitler, do is muddy the already opaque waters of modern western political discourse. And people are so bored with Hitler comparisons. He doesn't evoke the same emotional reaction he did even 20 years ago because, by this point, everyone even remotely active in western politics or political commentary knows someone who has been accused of being Hitler or a nazi, if they aren't that person themselves. It's become little more than the (supposedly) adult version of "I know you are but what am I?" It's meaningless, it's dumb, and everyone needs to stop doing it.

Stop making posts about how so and so is just like Hitler. Stop re-tweeting/blogging/posting them. Stop bringing Hitler's name into discourse at all. Stop arguing about whether or not National Socialism is right or left wing. Stop pretending that superficial similarities to Hitler or one of Hitler's policies is absolute proof that an ideological opponent is evil.

[blackbirdie1234]

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

[yumeka-sxf]

According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

[moon-ttokki-x]

hiii baby!!! I love your work and this is like my first request I’ve sent to anyone at all 😭 but could you do 28 and 7 for Minho ^^ tysm!!

hihi cutie~ i've actually had both of these prompts before so i got better at writing them hehe. also amogus divider bc why tf not

keychain - bf!lee minho x reader

pairing: bf!lee know x reader

summary: you fight with minho and he comes back to make things right.

genre: non-idol! au, pretty angst, soonie doongie dori honourable mention, comfort, fluffy ending, soft minho

a/n: so i started listening to lana del rey and i wrote this to 'sad girl' also div by @si-eunnis

⛓️ prompts: 7. "I'm glad you're here." / 28. "You're looking at me like that again."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

You toss another dirty tissue across the countertop, sniffing as you watch it come to rest at the very edge, teetering. Leaning your cheek against the cold, marbled surface, you sigh and let the sharp feeling seep through your pores like iced water.

It does little to soothe the current puffy redness of your cheeks; how long have you been sitting here, crying? The golden hanging lights that frame the kitchen have made your hair warm to the touch, their beams caressing the messy state of it, and your back feels numb and achy from the awkward position you've been slumped in since Minho stormed out of the apartment. You sigh.

You don't even remember what you were fighting about.

Each exhale feels like it's been punched out of you as you relive the events of the past hour; him coming home, both of you tired and irritable, and then fighting over the pettiest thing that you don't even remember anymore.

Then he left.

You're not sure if he's coming back; he didn't take anything but his phone, which had been in his pocket as soon as he came in, and his work bag, which is still smashed against the wall where he'd dropped it with a sigh on coming home.

You can't fight a weak smile at the habit; you've installed multiple hooks along the wall so he can hang his bag up when he gets home, but every time you did, he'd always just drop it on the floor anyway, kicking off his shoes at the door.

And you'd smile and gesture at the hooks, but he'd just ignore them, kissing your fed-up expression off your face with a gentle mouth and squeezing your shoulder with a warm, solid hand.

The way he always does.

You look at those hooks now; one of the cats' collars is hanging off them, and several other items like hair ties and rings of keys adorn the others. You came into the kitchen one day and saw Minho hanging a cat toy from the hook nearest to the door so that, when he wasn't home, the cats would be able to play. Dori sits there now, batting with fluffy white paws at the feathers and bells on the string.

Ding, ding. Ding.

You're not sure why you're thinking of such things; surely anyone in your current situation would incessantly cry their eyes out, wailing at the mistake of fighting with their partner, instead of thinking about plastic wall hooks and under-stimulated cats.

You're so distracted that you don't even notice the apartment door open again, so slowly that it takes about half a minute for Minho to actually step inside.

He's soaked.

The smell of the night rain that he brings with him is suddenly so prominent inside the still air of the apartment that it's what makes you look up.

"Minho," you whisper, eyes red and puffy. You scrub a hand across your face, the skin stinging at the harsh treatment. You hadn't even heard the rain outside.

He doesn't look at you, just takes off his shoes, very deliberately. There's a little puddle of rainwater around his feet and you fight back an exhale as his socked feet meet the wet tiles. Dori immediately goes to nuzzle against his legs and then hisses at the unpleasant wetness of his owner's legs.

But Minho doesn't seem to notice, simply taking off layers until he's stood in his slacks and white work shirt, which is the only dry item of clothing he has on. He drops the rest of his clothes in a pile.

His eyes finally lift themselves to meet yours; the warmth in them is gone, replaced by something unreadable. A dull, heavy feeling settles in your gut, a sense of finality washing over your being. You know this is the moment that he'll say he wants to leave, that he just can't find it in himself to love you. He'll go to your shared room and start packing a suitcase, and take the cats with him, all while you wail and tug at his arms for him not to leave, please, Minho, don't leave-

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Your gaze flits to his. Your voice is croaky, cracked, saturated with sadness. "What?"

He steps forward, ignoring the insistent mewing of Soonie and Doongie, who have just come into the room. "I'm sorry. I should have just left to clear my head and then came back, but I've been gone half the night."

You blink and look through tired eyes to the clock on the wall. It takes you a couple seconds to process the time. It's 1 am. Minho came home at 9 pm. You don't even know how many hours that is.

"How long were you walking in the rain?" You say, still whispering lest you scare him off again.

He shrugs. His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, but he's hesitant, like he's not sure how it will be received.

He speaks anyway. "I stalled for a while. I didn't know if you'd be here when I came back..." His fingers twist in the slightly damp material of his white shirt, fidgeting.

Your indignance suddenly takes over your upset state and you sit up straighter. "I would have waited all night for you, Minho. I wasn't going to leave..."

"I know," he says solemnly, and then quietly, "I'm glad you're here."

You nod and slowly slide off the chair you've been slumped in, disturbing a few of the tissues scattered across the countertop. "I'm sorry too, Min. I shouldn't have kept the argument going."

He shakes his head. "We were both tired. It happens."

You both stand in silence for a minute, neither one of you sure how to continue the conversation. It's almost awkward until Minho steps forward, taking out something from his pocket. He shyly holds it out.

You take a small step forward and take the small item from him. Unfolding your fingers from around it, you blink through unshed tears to see a small keychain resting in the palm of your hand. It's a little cat with its mouth open, its fur pattern like Soonie's, but grey instead of ginger. There's another attachment of a pink peach, and the clip keyring attachment is shaped like a heart.

You look up at Minho. His face is red. You remember suddenly that he's quite shy when it comes to giving things to people, and you can't fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms.

This little keychain is Minho's apology.

His skin is cold, damp from the rain, and the collar of his shirt is wet from the rain, but you hold him close anyway. You wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing your eyes shut. He's almost fetched up against the wall from how hard you threw yourself at him, but his arms find their familiar place around your shoulders.

You pull back slightly, gazing up at him. As if he wasn't soaked enough, your tears have left two patches on his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"You're looking at me like that again." Minho says quietly.

You hum, a tear spilling down your cheek. "Looking at you like what?"

You see his throat bob, swallow hard. You can feel the constant thrum of his heart through the damp fabric of his shirt.

Minho gulps. "You always look at me like than when- when-"

"When I say I love you?" You finish for him.

Minho nods inaudibly, the movement of his head so small you almost don't see it at all. You smile, tilting your head at him, the tears beginning to slow.

You both stand there for who knows how long, clinging to each other, trapping between your bodies the smell of rain and fade cologne. Finally, Minho talks.

"I love you too."

a/n: this was way too long

[fatcatlittlebox]

It's interesting that Galadriel has it in her mind that Sauron is the Great Deceiver, an illusionist and manipulator. All of those things are true, but not really as he regards her. She was the goal. She is the light he bends to and for whom he would bend the world. For all their talk of healing Middle Earth and creating perfection, Galadriel is the ultimate end for him, not the means. His need for her light will always usurp his need for perfection. When stripped of his form and face, he is a base creature of need and that is when you see what truly motivates him.

He is drawn to the light. He hungers for it. For all his machinations and schemes as Sauron, this is what he really wants. To feel the light. To bask in it. To feel the peace and freedom that it promises.

So why does he not repent before the Valar or Eru? Why does he turn from their salvation? Initially, he does take up the role of penitent son. He follows after Diarmid who was a human emissary of forgiveness. He listens and remembers. But ultimately, when faced with the choice to save Diarmid and in turn, save himself, he rejects it. He could easily take the hand of this kind, humble man. But he doesn't. Why? Because he, this old man, is humble. It chafes him. So he abandons his own ship. And whom does he collide into next? Galadriel, the embodiment of light without the contrition. This is where his fathomless memory comes into play.

He knows what she has done. He knows she was bound for the Undying Lands. But as Elrond had warned against, she denied the call. She defied the gods. She is like him. And the very next thing that happens upon this revelation is the arrival of The Storm. The Valar have spoken. This union must not be. Amidst this tempest Galadriel offers to bind herself to him. He knows what this offer means and, interestingly, she's struck from the raft by lightning. That was no accident. Lightning, as it is in all cultures, is the touch from the gods. If Galadriel will not willingly go to the Undying Lands, the Valar are going to send her there with a one-way ticket. But Sauron defies the Valar also. Where he had abandoned Diarmid and his ship companions not too long ago, he does something so unlike himself, unprecedented. Unexpected. He dives into the water after Galadriel and rips her from Ulmo’s grasp. She is his. They are unto themselves.

What happens next is his new beginning. He calls Numenor a "paradise, ripe with opportunity." Like I and others have concluded, I don't think Sauron really wanted to leave Numenor. In fact, he tries to convince Galadriel to stay in Numenor as well. She is his peace and light. He asks to keep it, by keeping her, "for both [their] sakes". This is both a warning and a promise. He is already envisioning their glory together.

He ends this conversation by clasping her close, handing Gal her precious dagger and warning her to not make anymore enemies. Again, a promise. They'll call back to this later.

Afterwards, there doesn't really seem to be a practical plan to what he does at this time other than try to be by her side. I think that's actually in keeping with what TROP ends up revealing about Sauron's grand game plan. More specifically, he doesn't have one, or detailed one anyways. His Numenor Halbrand Era seems to be mostly: 1) appease elf 2) stay by her side. And it's genuinely the happiest and most organic the viewer ever sees him. I even think that's why he betrayed Galadriel to Pharazon. So that she would be caught. Again. He'll risk her ire, just to keep her close. She brazenly tries to manipulate him constantly (and really everyone in Numenor) under the banner of saving the world, but he isn't fooled. Like calls to like. She enjoys doing it. She enjoys moving the people around her like pawns. So he lets her. Amusedly so. He even gives her tips on how to do it better. The viewer is even shown the vivid rush they both get from indulging in their mind games.

He has not conjured up any illusions. There are no tricks. In fact, what he offers her is the tempting truth of herself. Still, he is content to follow her, watching her move through the world, bending it with her alluring light and force of will all the while knowing that time is not on his side. So he goes back to what he knows best, forging. He will forge this bond. First with the armor. I’d like to think that as he was making it, he was recollecting her body. How to protect her. How to bind her to him. He remembers everything. He recalls her form, every curve and bone while being with her on that raft on the Sundering Sea.

He remembers gazing at her face, her hair, her hand. It's right there. That might have been where he was inspired. While contemplating those countless hours on the raft, the sun and her light bathing him, he wonders how he can preserve the peace of this moment. He finds himself staring at her hand and the seed of an idea takes root. Rings.

From this point forward, that is Sauron's primary objective. Every memory he has from their time in Numenor to Eregion reinforces his belief. This elf warrior with enough passion to rival his own, so much that he follows her back to the Southlands. The place Diarmid had pointedly told him is nothing but death and despair. He goes back for her. He leaves the place that he describes as "a paradise" because she wills it. She crowns him a king. He lets her. She tells him to spare Adar's life. He does. He says he wants to bind "that feeling" to him always. Galadriel shares those feelings. So he designs two rings. Not one ring of power. Two.

Galadriel has crowned him king of the Southlands. So even after she rejects his offer of unending partnership, he goes to the Southlands again as their king. He still acts as their king because it was what Galadriel wanted. Then he sets his sights on making 9 rings for the kings of men. He insists on this despite the protests of Celebrimbor and it ends up the loose thread that unravels everything. If not for that, he would not have pressed upon Celebrimbor to rush their making. He would not have kept Celebrimbor under his thrall. Eregion might not have fallen. He would not have had to use his blood instead of mithril. He risked so much for these 9 rings. Why does it matter so much? Because he is still going to try to heal the Southlands. He must. That was his vow to Galadriel. That was her wish. He will execute her will as if they were still partners and bound to each other.

But Galadriel doesn't see it or doesn’t want to. Her heart betrays her though. Nevertheless, Sauron still has to make good on his promises. He now has impaled her with the crown of Morgoth, ensuring in some way, they will never be free of each other. But he has not yet made the mate of her ring. He still has to forge the One. I wonder if he will use parts of that crown to make it. It is stained by both her blood and his. He may not have sway over Nenya but another ring can still be forged to bind them. I think that is his grand vision, to create that paradise for them to stand side by side again. A healed world where this warrior elf could finally put down her sword and grant him his peace and forgiveness by way of her light. Where his touch does not leave a dark stain of malice. Because Middle Earth is the only place where they may meet again in the light. It is the only place left where he may follow where she has tread. All other doors are shut.

[raventreehall]

a storm of swords dash simulator

🍋ladyjonquil Follow

i don't want to reveal too much but i had a really great day today hawking and riding and received some really exciting news (and maybe a potential marriage offer!) wow wow wow!!! haven't felt like this in so long 🥰

🤡florianthefool Follow

i'm so happy for you my jonquil

🐦littlefinger Follow

thanks for sharing my lady

🏹kissedbyfire Follow

PISSED OFF AT MY BF RN 🤬🤬🤬 NEVER TRUST A SOUTHERNER AND ESPECIALLY NEVER TRUST A CROW!!!!!!!

👸🏼daenerys-targaryen-tracker Follow

🐎raeqqo Follow

by the law of the dothraki she must return to vaes dothrak to take her place alongside the crones of the dosh khaleen. it is known.

🐉3heads Follow

shut up and go sack a defenseless city or something

🍁weirwoodzz Follow

hey do you guys remember when theon greyjoy took winterfell last year and killed the stark boys? has anyone heard anything else about that? feel like it kind of just disappeared from the news cycle, what happened to greyjoy?

🪓cerwynnation Follow

lord bolton's bastard killed him

🍁weirwoodzz Follow

oh really? wow. kind of extreme but deserved i guess

💗ramsays-sharpest-blade Follow

Ramsay isn't a bastard, King Joffrey legitimized him two months ago and Lord Roose is going to make him castellan of the Dreadfort soon. He loves his son and trusts his abilities. Plus, Ramsay is being awarded for his efforts in saving Winterfell and putting a stop to the ironborn raids in the North by being betrothed to Arya Stark—would a bastard be granted that honor? I don't think so.

Also, Theon isn't dead, Ramsay is (rightfully) flaying him for his crimes in the dungeons beneath the Dreadfort. Gods, I'd love to see Ramsay thrust the knife under his skin!!!!! 😜

#ramsay bolton #house bolton #our blades are sharp #theon greyjoy

🐐the-goat Follow

i'm boutta come into thome real money real thoon 😈 💎💎💎💎💯

🏰freygirl73 Follow

ughhhh my sister is getting married tmrw and my brothers keep going on about getting revenge on king robb while he's here for the feast... like i just wanted some food :/// iswtg that's the only good thing about my siblings weddings and now they're saying there won't even be any and i'm gonna have to go into hiding before the bedding ceremony or something. why can't my family just be NORMAL

🐟greenfork Follow

TW: Red Wedding, death, violence

A masterpost on what happened at the Twins and what it means for the Northern independence cause, the War of the Five Kings, and the realm in general.

Also a bunch of links on how you can help people affected in the Riverlands.

Keep Reading

🍵bowlobrown Follow

HELL YEAH BROTHER 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🔥heatofdorne Follow

i wanna ***** ********* on ellaria sand's **** and *** ****** then call in oberyn and ***** **** them both until **** *****

🤎pate7534 Follow

🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🌊onthesunsetsea Follow

why are there so many crabs on my dash rn

🐺direwolfing Follow

TYWIN LANNISTER IS DEAD 🦀🦀🦀🦀

💙cassssanna Follow

actually i think it's still for king joffrey

🦁lann1sporter Follow

lol i thought it was for robb stark

🥂arborgold Follow

maybe it's for the mountain?

⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow

DOLOROUS EDD LORD COMMANDER 300 AC

⬛️ freezingmyarseoffonthewall Follow

DOLOROUS EDD WILL LEAD US TO VICTORY AGAINST THE OTHERS

🕊️ just-a-humble-sparrow Follow

mother have mercy i was walking by the great sept of baelor (i wanted to pay my respects to our blessed king joffrey) but i was blocked by a knight of the kingsguard—i believe it was one of the kettleblacks, unfortunately i always forget which one has been elevated to the kingsguard—because the queen was keeping vigil over her son, so i prayed outside instead. yet only a few minutes passed when i swear i saw the kingslayer arrive (he seemed to be missing a hand!) and enter. then, and this is the most disturbing part, i swear to the father that i heard noises of fornication coming from inside! i know for a fact that the only other person inside was the queen mother. could the rumors be true? i feel dirty even writing this. i wonder if i should tell my septon.

❤️‍🔥stannis-sweep Follow

stannis has literally been telling y'all and you didn't listen 🙄

🏳️ bannerless Follow

is it just me or is lady stoneheart kinda 👀

[redroomreflections]

How Not To Become A Tiktok Star

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Reader has a tiktok account and she decides to do the "I think you're bad in bed" prank on Natasha.

note: I really don't know what this is. I saw it on tiktok and decided to write it. if i cringed you also have to experience it.

this can be any universe really.

w/c: 1k

You and Natasha are about to head out for a drive, and you had a fun idea to capture a bit of the day for your TikTok account. You'd set up the camera before she slid into the driver's seat. You placed the phone on the dashboard, using a small, inconspicuous car mount that you’ve cleverly tucked away. The mount is just the right height to capture both of you without being too obvious. You adjust the angle, making sure the camera is aimed perfectly to catch the both of you.

"Are you recording us?"

You nod silently. "Just for memories." You inform her. You sit back into the passenger's seat and watch the scenery go by.

"So…I was thinking of going to Target later and getting us a few things for the house," Natasha tried. "I think I can get in and out without being recognized."

"Sounds good." You nodded. "If we need more detergent, I'll add that to the list."

"Ok, and maybe some new sheets. Those are getting pretty old."

"They are pretty old, aren't they?" You continue. The car ride is silent for the next few minutes and you glance at the camera to make sure it's still recording.

"You're awfully quiet today," Natasha mentions. She's so used to you talking up a storm whenever you get the chance.

"I'm just tired." You shrug. "It's been a long week."

"I feel that." Natasha nods. "Anything on your mind?"

You pause dramatically, picking at your nails before you look at her. "I need to tell you something and I kind of don't know how to say it." Your heart beats in your chest. How could you explain this? It's a prank so of course she will be clueless but you are unsure of how to go about it.

"You can tell me anything," Natasha said.

"Ok, so the truth is," You begin. "Lately, I've been feeling like you've gotten a little lazier in bed." You say.

Natasha looks over at you with a blank expression. "What?"

"Like you've been kind of boring in the bedroom." You repeat.

Natasha shakes her head in confusion. "What do you mean by that? Boring?"

"Well, last night, for example. It was your turn to go down on me and it wasn't really your best work."

"Really?" Natasha asks, surprised. "You didn't seem to have a problem."

"I was too embarrassed to tell you."

Natasha's face falls. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's been like that for a while and I didn't want to hurt your feelings," You reach across the console to grab her free hand. "I just want us to have fun together."

"That's what I want too." Natasha agreed.

"We used to have fun."

"Yeah." Natasha agrees.

"So much fun." You nod. "I just think maybe you can practice a bit more? Try some new techniques or something."

"Oh...well," Natasha's face turns a bit pink and she glances between the road and you. "New techniques? Where do you suggest i practice this?"

"I don't know." You shrug, keeping the smirk off your face. "Maybe start with me?"

Natasha stares straight ahead. "Oh, well, I can try. But I'm not really sure where to start. Can you give me a specific?"

"Hmm, yeah. I'll just go into more detail." You decide.

"Go ahead."

"I guess when you have sex with a woman, you just have to remember the pearl is the center of the universe," You censor yourself for Tiktok of course. "I don't know if you've forgotten where it is or..."

"No, no," Natasha shook her head. "I'm very familiar with where it is. Yours especially."

"Ok, because I'm not sure if you're aware, but when you go down on me, you don't pay enough attention to it," You tell her. "It's almost like you don't like the taste."

Natasha makes a face. "What? That's ridiculous. I love your taste."

"But you're not doing enough."

"Ok."

"You need to be better. Not even just licking around my pearl, but actually sucking it. Really, just doing all that. All the things that are important."

"You know, I'm very confused about where this is coming from," Natasha turned on her indicator to turn into the parking lot. "Like I said last night you were very happy with my performance. Unless you were faking it."

"Of course, I wasn't faking it," You shake your head. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while but I didn't know how. But it's not only that, there are other things too."

"What other things?" Natasha asked.

"I feel like you're not very experimental. Like, I want to have sex in more than just the bed." You say.

Natasha nods. "I guess Tony's lab wasn't experimental enough."

"Babe," You gasp. You turn to the camera and sigh. "I'm going to have to edit that out."

Natasha parks the car. "Why are you saying all this? Is something going on? Are you recording still?"

"Yes, I'm still recording," You admit. "This is for my Tiktok. It's a joke."

"A joke? I knew it had to be," Natasha shakes her head. "Are you going to upload that?"

"Probably."

"Oh, wow." Natasha finally gets a good look at you. "I know this wasn't one hundred percent the truth. You're always so exhausted after we finish. Also, the things you say there's no way you're not getting what you want."

"What does that mean?" You play dumb.

"Oh, baby, fuck me," Natasha pitches her voice higher. "Don't stop. Don't stop." She fake moans and pretends to be you in the moments of passion and pleasure.

"Oh, shut up." You playfully swat her. "I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do," Natasha chuckles. "Some days I can barely get you to go multiple rounds. You practically fall asleep with me still inside of you."

"Shut up!" You laugh.

Natasha shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. "I can't believe you got me so good. I really thought we were having problems."

"You're cocky," You scoff.

"And you're the queen of the universe, baby." Natasha grins, leaning over to kiss you. "Let's get this over with so we can get home and you can show me how much I don't suck in bed."

"I can't upload this to Tiktok," You sigh.

"Well put it with the other videos that we can't upload."

"Good idea," You reached for the camera and shut it off. So much for being a tiktok star.

[angeliteeyes]

More more with the Herta puppets. So I'm not sure I'd you know, but the trailblazer has actually, for some reason, picked up a Herta doll and tried to run away with it. And Madam herta was st first indignant about it but relented outta curiosity 10% and cause of the help with the simulated universe( if you haven't seen it, you can find it on hoyolab ir reddit). The thing is, Oni S/O is 100%, NOT cool with it. The herta puppets may find them annoying, sure, and its not even sure why, but it also sent a distress signal to them. So Oni S/O went Papa Wolf/Mama bear/Protective sibling, and the Trailblazer may now treat Sparkle with far more caution if her illusions can also do the same messed type of stuff Oni S/O's can. On another note, the Herta puppets are now tsundere like towards the Oni S/O, and you may or may not always see at least one puppet walking alongside them

Hehehe... I'm back on the Herta train y'all

(¬ ͜ ͡¬) feels good to come back to this series. Expect a lot of overdramatic jellyfish Herta, along with perhaps the most adorable puppet of all... popipo...

The Herta x Oni Reader - Puppet Rescue!!!

-> Masterlist with all Herta x Oni works

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ah, home sweet home. Admittedly, it kind of hurt your pride that Mei forced you to leave her behind in Penacony... but no worries! As long as you have your precious puppets to mess around with, you can wait. Especially now that you're heading over to see your favorite of them all (don't tell the others that, though).

Puppet #39. Despite how many people think of the several, similarly designed puppets as carbon copies, you've found that they're actually quite unique from one another. This one, for example, has a strange fascination with some digital idol she'd somehow managed to discover—what was their name again... Natsume Miki? No, last time you said that, 39 got really mad at you and stormed off, so probably not it. Well, whatever. You'll just ask them again once you find them.

So... where in the station did they head off to? You run around and around, calling out their name, yet to no avail. Strange, since you've always known them to remain in one room every single day, likely since it's the only one with a music player. Confused, you head over to your and Herta's—the real one's—room.

"Hertaaaaa, I'm home! Ya miss me?" You burst into the room, nearly stumbling to the ground from your speed and joy at the sight of your lover. She looks up at you, sprawled upside down from the side of your bed. For some reason, her face is fixed into a frown, or maybe more of a pout, as she begins to speak.

"Oh, so you finally remember your beloved life partner now that you've wasted twenty minutes running around like a stray dog? I offer you the chance of a lifetime to reunite with your long-lost sibling, and this is how you repay me? Hmph. Honestly, I should sign you up for some lessons in manners." Herta crosses her arms over her chest and turns away indignantly.

"Heh, sorry... I meant to come back sooner, it's just that I couldn't find 39 anywhere. Is she under maintenance or something?"

For a few seconds, she doesn't even speak. Not with her lips, at least; instead, her face does all the work as she turns back toward you with an agape mouth and stunned eyes.

"You can't be serious. You return to my space station—my space station—and you don't even come to see me first? Unbelievable! You're so... ugh, whatever. 39's not here, sorry to disappoint you."

You tilt your head to the side. "Not here?"

"The trailblazer seems to have taken a liking to them as well. They've been rather helpful, so I acquiesced and let them take her back aboard." She stares straight at you with an accusatory glare. "What, are you going to run off again? Don't expect me to let you back in if you do."

Jeez, you knew she had a jealous streak in her, but to this degree? If you go out and get 39 back, she might just actually kick you out for a while. Still... you close your eyes for a moment to ponder. Does she even want to come back in the first place? What if she's happier there, cruising across the vast landscapes of the universe? You pause to give your intuition its chance to weigh in. Right now, they're probably thinking...

[Help me.]

A voice rings through your head, and not your own. With a rush, you realize exactly who it belongs to: 39 herself. Huh, guess that answers your questions. With determination, you open your eyes and meet Herta's.

"I have to save her."

"Wha—Hey!" Before Herta can finish her angry shouting, you burst into a sprint towards the space station's exit. C'mon, you can't just let the poor puppet suffer. What kind of oni would you be if you didn't use your powers for the sake of protecting those you love? Speaking of powers...

You pull out your phone.

"Sparkle, you busy?"

If you had to pick the greatest perk of being a Masked Fool, having such a mischievous friend as Sparkle would easily be your answer. Not only do you get an awful lot of laughs, but she's also surprisingly dependable; that is, she's always willing to lend you a hand whenever you describe a task using words such as "fun" or "interesting". Today is no exception. As you go into details about your plan to steal 39 back, a hearty laughter rings out from your device.

"An opportunity to mess with the Nameless, huh? Oh, I can already imagine their shocked faces when they find out... hehe. Count me in."

-

The Astral Express is known to be welcome to just about any and all visitors. Whether it's for short trips or those who wish to stay for the long haul, the train is so much more than just a machine; it's a home to countless of travelers. Puppet #39, though, doesn't quite see it this same way.

"This place sucks. I want to go back home." She glares up at the Trailblazer, who she now sees as her arch nemesis for taking her away from her precious music player. Said nemesis awkwardly places their hand on the back of their head.

"C'mon, it's not that bad here, is it?"

"It is. And you're weird. Bring me back to the station now."

It took everything in your power not to burst out into tearful laughter at the glorious scene your ears are bearing witness to. It's nice to know that 39's blunt word choices weren't just limited to you, at least. Unfortunately, though, making that much noise would definitely blow your cover. As you wait for the right moment to strike, their one-sided bickering session continues on. For what seems like ages, 39 drones on with complaints with her signature monotone voicebox while the other struggles to appease her. Seriously, what's taking her so long to—

"Heyyyyy! Open up already, I have something to show you!" A certain loud-mouthed girl begins to bang on their door, putting an end to their little spat. You hold your breath and curl tighter into your hiding spot. Meanwhile, the Trailblazer peeks out of their door. A confused expression marks their face.

"March? What's going on?" Instead of responding with words, she instead opts to tug at their raised hand, a motion that pulls their whole body out into the open. The lady smirks down at them as they rapidly try to regain their balance before continuing to drag them along like a poor ragdoll. Well, calling them "poor" is a bit generous, seeing how they stole your precious companion... Still, you watch intently as the two scurry off into the opposite direction. You pay even more attention to the girl's grinning mouth.

"Your turn."

Perfect. Looks like the first half of your plan worked out, now just the hard part: actually getting 39 to leave with you. Who knows how much trouble that little runt's going to cause, though. Seriously... if they weren't so entertaining, you'd probably still be at the station. You sigh. It's hard work being such a kind, considerate person. But of course, since you're the greatest oni anyway, this is a piece of cake.

Step. Step. Step. Slowly but surely, you make your way over to the ajar bedroom door and creak it open. In front of you remains the still extremely bitter (but adorable) 39, facing away from you. You hear her huff.

"I refuse to stay here."

"Then come with me, silly."

It takes a little while for your words to process in her cute puppet head, but when they do, she practically jumps out of her metal skin. She turns to face you with an unreadable expression. You start to shift your legs back and forth under her gaze. Maybe you were right earlier to think that she wouldn't come with you. Sure, she's been whining at them nonstop, but it's not like she didn't do the same exact thing with you back home. Maybe—

A sudden clash startles you out of your thoughts. Clutching onto you tightly, you realize, is none other than the very puppet that always claims to despise you. Yet here she is, burying herself into you quietly. Seriously, what a cutie pie. No wonder she was your favorite.

"...You're better than that weirdo, I guess. Let's go."

-

Surprisingly, Herta didn't seem to make good on their prior threat. Y'know, the one to lock you out and all. Still, as you walk in hand in hand with 39, you catch the way she glares at your intertwined fingers, and a chill runs down your spine. There's no way she's not giving you crap for this later, probably for the rest of your life.

And now she's walking away without a word towards your shared room. You apologize to 39 before hurrying to catch up with Herta's quick strides. You can already feel the anger seeping out of her (as well as hear it with how loudly she's stomping) but push on anyway. She silently makes her way into said room and you, despite the tension, trail in from behind.

"Hey, Herta... you still mad at me?" You try to break the tension with a lighter tone, yet regret it once she gifts you a scornful scowl.

"Wrong. Try again."

You think. "Um... I'm sorry?" Her expression grows even more disdainful and frustrated.

"Closer, but that's not what I'm looking for."

As you examine her more extensively, you notice a deeper emotion beyond just petty anger. It's hidden pretty well, yet the sweat droplet rolling down her skin plus her eyes darting from side to side tell you the truth about what she's feeling. With an exhale, you finally find the right words to soothe her worries.

"I missed you, Herta."

She doesn't express it verbally, but a weight visibly lifts off her body once you utter those words. You smile. For someone so renowned for her intelligence, she sure can be childish sometimes. But that's not an issue; after all, you're hardly any better.

"Well obviously you would miss me! Anyone whose eyes have been blessed with my beauty would feel the same way. It's only natural." Her signature grandiose tone kicks back into gear, much to your delight. She's a lot cuter this way.

"Right, right. Can we go to bed now? I'm sleepy." With a bright grin, she agrees and you two make yourselves comfy within the pink sheets of your bed. You decide that you won't tease her about her extra-tight grip on your form... at least, not until tomorrow morning.

-

A knocking sound at your bedroom door reverberates and stirs you out of your sleep. Curious and confused, you make your way over to the door, opening it to find...

"39?" You stare at her, perplexed. What could she possibly want this early in the morning? From the uncharacteristic twiddling of her fingers, she seems to be having trouble communicating her thoughts. Funny, considering how she normally treats you.

"You. Come with me." Refusing to elaborate, she drags you across the station's halls into her favorite room. Placed within it are her music player, a chair, and a new, full-length mirror. It's only when you two reach her seat that she lets go of your wrist and plops herself down. Then, she points to a set of colorful hair ties.

"Make me have pigtails." Despite her demanding words, her robotic cheeks flush with a color you didn't know they were capable of being. Vaguely, you start to recall her beloved idol and her hairstyle. With a gasp, you raise your voice.

"Don't tell me, are you trying to have the same hairstyle as that Natsume Miki girl?!"

"That's not her name!"

Unbeknownst to you, a collection of other puppets linger at the door. They totally aren't listening in on you or anything! They're just... curious, that's all. Yeah. Who would be jealous of 39 for getting to have you play with their hair? Certainly not them! That's what they'll say to themselves and anyone who asks, at least, as they stick to your side like glue the following day.

You try not to act too smug the first time one of them not-so-subtly complains about a nonexistent tangle. Who says you can't have more than one favorite?

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak. 

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm. 

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you. 

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone. 

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything. 

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone. 

Then you found Jackson. 

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead. 

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical. 

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back. 

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.” 

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.” 

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?” 

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.” 

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den. 

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. 

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile. 

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?” 

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.” 

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.” 

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away. 

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.” 

“But—” 

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone. 

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.” 

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort. 

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?” 

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones.  “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.” 

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.” 

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.” 

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.” 

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.” 

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”  

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.” 

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.” 

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?” 

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.” 

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.” 

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.” 

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.” 

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten. 

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth. 

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon. 

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes. 

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing. 

And no one. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal. 

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things. 

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here. 

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent. 

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows. 

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest. 

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask. 

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?” 

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear. 

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.” 

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway. 

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.” 

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst. 

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—” 

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand. 

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally. 

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?” 

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.  

It’s Tucker. 

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off. 

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously. 

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian. 

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson. 

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore. 

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.” 

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.” 

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?” 

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle. 

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood. 

O W L 

A week had passed since Tucker’s death. 

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control. 

You also visit Joel and vice versa. 

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write. 

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go. 

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.” 

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours. 

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.” 

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?” 

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.” 

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?” 

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said. 

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?” 

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”  

“S-Say what?” 

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.” 

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you. 

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever. 

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock. 

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame. 

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing. 

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.” 

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt. 

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.” 

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together. 

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.” 

“Be my guest.” 

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What?” 

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.” 

“On—On your face?” 

“Where else?” 

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked. 

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.” 

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails. 

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.” 

“What a noble way it would be to go.” 

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face. 

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips. 

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks. 

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked. 

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—” 

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .” 

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?” 

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts. 

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward— 

And all hell finally breaks loose. 

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body. 

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper. 

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips. 

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine. 

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.” 

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up. 

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.” 

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over. 

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?” 

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds. 

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer. 

On your second try you find something else. 

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully. 

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline. 

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel. 

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear. 

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.” 

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?” 

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.” 

“Really?” you ask and he nods. 

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?” 

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.” 

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?” 

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.” 

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.” 

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor. 

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?” 

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?” 

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask— 

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead. 

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.” 

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.” 

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?” 

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.” 

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?” 

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel. 

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.” 

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?” 

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin. 

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.” 

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.” 

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?” 

“W-What?” 

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does. 

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips. 

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?” 

“I—I don’t know.” 

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins. 

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.” 

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.” 

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.” 

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.” 

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.” 

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.” 

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times. 

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love. 

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there. 

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes. 

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel. 

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor. 

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way. 

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim. 

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest. 

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be. 

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask. 

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you. 

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once. 

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out. 

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys. 

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask. 

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off. 

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light. 

Joel. 

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second. 

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you. 

“Wait!” 

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair. 

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you. 

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal. 

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” 

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition. 

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.” 

“What happened? Are you alright?” 

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!” 

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.” 

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?” 

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation. 

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.” 

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest. 

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.” 

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.” 

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?” 

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.” 

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.  

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?” 

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips. 

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.” 

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.” 

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.” 

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.” 

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy. 

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.” 

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply. 

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it. 

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.” 

“Does. . . Does Maria—” 

Tommy cuts you off, “No.” 

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.” 

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore. 

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes. 

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest. 

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?” 

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief. 

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them. 

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.” 

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones. 

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours. 

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says. 

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance. 

Tommy cradles your face tenderly,  urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise. 

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort. 

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves. 

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach. 

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear. 

You don’t answer him. 

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.” 

“What about Tommy?” 

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.” 

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more. 

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin. 

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction. 

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts. 

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.” 

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.” 

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.” 

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—” 

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.” 

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing. 

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.” 

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name. 

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—” 

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you. 

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs. 

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness. 

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all. 

[halfway-happyyy]

im sorry for filling up your inbox so much but i just love the way you write frank sm ugh

perhaps something fluffy where reader has a bad habit of not being able to sleep without music. maybe she tries her best to sleep with silence the first couple night because putting in headphones feels rude but so does playing out out loud. then she finally confesses whats been keeping her up and frank is just like… i was in the marines wtf u think i wouldnt be able to sleep?

maybe she starts playing her playlist when he finally convinces her its okay and it actually helps his nightmares (im a firm believer he would cry over pheobe bridgers songs and thats like half my playlist oops)

wait you are so right!! i too have a soft angst playlist that also contains an aggressive amount of phoebe bridgers and big thief so i get where you're coming from 100%

when she was younger, she could sleep through just about anything. a raging thunder storm, one of her parents' marijuana-infested house parties, hell, maybe even an earthquake. but if she thought about it now, she reckoned it was because the world was a much lighter place when she was young. (or maybe it wasn't - maybe it never had been, and she only perceived it that way because wasn't everything a little softer through the lens of a ten year old?)

frank was a different duck entirely. where other partners in the past had insisted on some sort of stimulus to sleep - be it the television, or the incessant crackle of the radio, he seemed content to drift off in total darkness and silence. which had been fine the first couple nights she stayed over (frank had succeeded in tiring her out to the best of his abilities), but it soon grew too challenging. she was just too used to falling asleep to her music.

she had tried her headphones only once - and though they were only separated by the space of a couple inches, she didn't like how far away they made frank feel to her. she had considered playing her music out loud, but couldn't bear the thought of keeping him up with it, so she endeavoured to suffer.

until she couldn't anymore.

after spending a pathetic portion of the evening tossing and turning, she eventually pilgrimaged to the kitchen in search of some chamomile tea (courtesy of david "that shit'll knock your ass out every damn time" lieberman).

yawning, she cracked open the novel she was reading and prayed that it, combined with the warm tea, would help lull her into even a shallow slumber.

"everythin' alright, kid?"

his usually raspy voice, made all the more gruffer under the weight of sleep startled her, before she glanced up from her page.

"yeah, sorry, frank. did I wake you?"

he scratched at the back of his head and shook it.

"nah, I got up to pee and wondered where you were."

leant against the paint-chipped doorframe, he cleared his throat.

"can't sleep?"

she wedged her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head.

"seem to be having a rough go of it, recently, to tell the truth."

frank frowned, before asking her what was on her mind.

she released a deep breath and glanced up at him.

"I have a habit of sleeping with a specific playlist on in the background, and for a multitude of reasons, I haven't been listening to it when I've stayed the night here, and it's messing with my rhythm a bit," she shrugged. "i'll get over it, I'm sure, I just need a couple more days to get used to it."

frank's frown had only deepened.

"whadya you mean you'll get over it?"

she swallowed hard, but reluctantly continued on.

"I don't want to disturb you - keep you up on account of habits I can't break."

"keep me up?" he shook his head. "baby - you gotta remember, I was in the marines. when i'm out, i'm out like a damn light." he pushed himself from the doorframe to rub a warm, reassuring hand over her back. "finish the chapter you're on, and your tea, and come back to bed, yeah? we'll listen to your music together." he pressed a kiss to her temple, and disappeared.

she sat in the warm glow of the kitchen light for a couple more minutes, in awe of the man that he was. the gesture wasn't a grand one by any means, but it meant more to her than anything, in that moment.

frank was waiting for her when she wandered back into his room, his hands linked together behind his head, and his gaze trained on the ceiling above.

"put it on kid, let's hear it."

so she did. and the first song that played was i know the end, by phoebe bridgers. frank didn't say anything, but she had fallen asleep in minutes to the feeling of his hand as it squeezed around hers thrice.

i love you.

when she wandered back out into the kitchen in the morning, frank was sipping on a cup of coffee at the table, the new york post wedged within his grasp.

"there she is," he smiled. "how'd ya sleep?"

she had woken up feeling more refreshed than she had in days.

"really well. and you?"

frank took another sip of his coffee, and savoured the flavour of it on his tongue before replying.

"I really liked that it'll all work out cover you got on there. that was somethin' else."

she smiled. "that's phoebe for you." she wrapped her arms around him from behind, and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "thank you, for listening to my music with me."

he elicited a soft scoff. "I oughtta be thankin' you, kid. last night was the first night in a while I didn't have any nightmares."

she ignored the crack in her heart at that, and pressed another kiss to his temple.

"a million mornings, frank."

he traced a fingertip over the back of her hand and smiled.

"a million mornings, kid."