#happily prisoned and stuck here

[sloyla]

Actual footage of me after telling my friend that I might stop watching miraculous bcs I hate the new animation style but finding myself writing whole essays unders peoples comments about the agreste lore and fixing them about how emilie didn't created felix, a sentimonster and a human are not opposite concepts, there is not such a thing as half human half senti.

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird (2)

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

part 1 | original text post

cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, romance & fluff, smut, size kink, sane and consensual, roleplay, rough sex, spanking, bondage & gags, tattoo kink, dom!simon, sub!reader

bunny says: love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are encouraged!

-

living with an ex-convict was interesting. he still woke up at the crack of dawn, and as a result you were up too. he didn't know where anything was in your apartment, he hated that he had to wake you up but he didn't know where the spoons were.

you were happy to help him and spend some extra time together before you went to work. the more you were around him, the more you realized how big he was compared to you.

even his hands were much larger than yours. he loved to wrap you up in his arms and hold you while you were making yourself some breakfast. those strong tattooed arms around your middle as you flipped eggs.

sometimes he'd bury his face in your neck and visibly relaxed. he was still dealing with his fair share of trauma from the previous events of his life. and while it often left him stressed, he found comfort in you.

"you're my anchor, love." he said within the first week of his return to society.

you simply smiled and tried not to blush too hard as you said, "well, si. i'll happily be your anchor, as long as your mine."

"you're anchor, your rock, your foot solider, your lover." he said as he kept his gaze on you. since he had been living with you, you found his expression had softened a little. he could relax here.

"my husband." you reached out for him. he took your hand and kissed the top of it before he held it for a moment then returned it to you.

simon had a long road ahead of him, being on the inside for so long was going to cause some problems. but, he knew even if he had nothing. he had you.

it was almost five months into living together and he managed to get an interview working in small parts manufacturing. while it was tedious, they didn't need to look at his criminal record. which greatly excited him.

when he came home from the interview, he told you that it went well. that they seemed to like his dedication and were impressed when he mentioned his time in the military. he said, "got the whole 'thank you for your service'." as he held you and kissed you deeply.

it felt like your little lives were coming together. but the one thing you hated to admit to yourself. you sort of had a dark side, it wasn't anything too aggressive or 'evil'. you thought that simon was the perfect boyfriend, he'd never hurt a hair on your head.

but the idea of being with a criminal sort of had a sexy ring to it. to be with the bad boy. you almost felt embarrassed to admit it when he'd come home with flowers for you, or when he smiled at you. or when he held your hand when you went out. with you he got to be a person with love.

deep down you wanted to know the depths of your boyfriend. you wanted to know what a man like him, with his skill set, was capable of. you wanted it to burn, ache and hurt.

it took a lot of courage, you communicated with your boyfriend about a little make believe. while hesitant at first, he slowly started to warm up to the idea. you knew he was open to it when he came home from one, actually the first day at his job, with a bundle of bondage rope.

"the blue looks good on you." he remarked as he finished tying you up on the bed. he had your arms behind your back with you on your side and one leg tied to the bed post.

you looked at him, those eyes of yours were so alluring. you tried to move your leg but was stuck to the bed. he smiled down at you and tapped the ball gag in your mouth.

"but it doesn't matter what you want. right?' he asked, "i've searched a long time for you. you're not an easy woman to catch." he got between your legs, and hiked one leg over his shoulder as he started to aggressively lick your cunt. it was already dripping from the act of him tying you up.

there was no escape for you, even if you somehow got out of the bondage. he was almost twice the size of you and could do some damage if he wanted to.

you squirmed and whimpered around the ball gag as he took long, hard licks against your clit. he wanted to make sure his girl was wet enough for his large cock.

"maybe i should breed ya. bring you back to the boys all fat with my brats.' he purred, "i don't think they can throw ya in the can if you're pregnant. but who knows, you got pregnant by a thief." he continued to lick your sweet cunt. he was in heaven.

he really was so much bigger than you. he overpowered you, he could keep you down and fuck you until he had his fill, and there was nothing you could do about it. you were bound and gagged like a good girl.

he kept at it, he even teased your hole with his thick fingers until you were squirming more with your moans getting louder. he slapped your ass and gave you a stern look over your pussy. he gripped your leg over his shoulder. "shut up." he growled, "i don't need ya causin' a scene. i'd hate to go back to prison because you can't keep your trap shut up."

you hole clenched and he chuckled. he patted where he smacked and grabbed at the flesh before he went back to his feast between your legs. it didn't take long before the slick between your thighs got all over his face.

he pulled away and sat up on his knees. he stared down at you with your thigh wrapped around his waist. he was going to fuck you at a weird angle, but it was the only way he could keep his little prize tied up. he wiped is face, "you are the best thing i've caught." he said, "stolen a lotta loose change, but they're nothin' to the sweet taste of your cunt." he got his cock out his sweatpants and started to rub it against your slick pussy. he let out a harsh sigh from the sensation, "they should be keepin' ya behind the vault door." the tip slipped in for a moment and you clenched around it.

you whimpered and tried to pushed yourself down on his cock, but it was hard to do that when you were so tied up, he pushed the hair out of your eyes, your leftover wetness got on your cheek from his movements.

"but, you need to know." he said, "you're mine to do whatever to. your mommy and daddy aren't gonna save ya. you fell in love with a bad man and now you're lettin' him fuck your cunt raw. what's gonna happen at christmas when you're all swollen with my brats. riley boys are lil hell raisers." he went back to rubbing his cock up against your slit, "you'll be mine forever. my little prize. i should've taken ya a long time ago. just snatched ya up off the train. keep ya to myself." his tongue was getting loose from the buzz of pleasure in his brain.

you whimpered around the gag and almost cried out when he slipped his large cock into you easily. you felt it in your guts and his pace was much more brutal than the other times you've made love. that was the difference, you made love before. this was dirty, primal sex between a criminal and his captive.

the sounds of sex filled the air, paired with simon's heavy breathing. his heart was thumping steadily as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he loomed over you as he drilled himself into you. you were a comfortably tight fit around his cock.

you dug your nails into your palms from the immense pleasure and yelped when he slapped your ass. you whimpered when he leaned further into you to get closer into your personal space. his pace was brutal and it excited you.

"i'm a bad man." he said lowly, his voice close to your ear, "my worst crime is tainting such a precious angel." he held onto your calf as he bent your hips the closer he got. his voice was hot, "fill ya right up, make sure no other man has a chance to get ya knocked up." his tattooed hand went to your stomach which he gave a small rub, "my girl carryin' my boys."

your eyes almost rolled back from the heat in your body. you were almost drooling around the rubber gag in your mouth. it was dirty, it was filth. if anyone saw the state you were in, they would be shocked!

your head felt full of lust, you felt your lover so close to him. you knew despite the roughness and the harsh words, the entire scenario was safe. you knew you could get out of this if you needed to. but it wasn't getting to be too much, it was just enough.

the wetness between your legs and the flips in your stomach only excited you. to have such a large man be so domineering. it made you feel small in a good way. it was almost like being bound made you feel protected.

that you could lay yourself over to him and he'd cherish you. even if you were his little 'prize' for the evening. the hottest part was the pace at which his cock was battering your womb.

you whimpered against your gag and felt the heat rush through you. you held onto your palms as best as you could with your arms bound. the entire situation left you spinning, there was no wonder that orgasm crept up on you so easily.

with a loud moan around your gag, you climaxed around his cock. the tightness of your cunt mid-orgasm milked his cock till he was seeing stars. he came inside of you, his seed hit against the back of your womb.

the feeling of being able to do so left him a little slack-jawed. but he kept it together, even if his cheeks were flushed. when he finished, he slowly pulled out and started to untie you. his hands were shaky from the after effects of his orgasm.

he took the gag out of your mouth and pulled you in for a kiss when he finished untying you. he fell into bed with you and laid on top of the covers with you. he held you gently and kissed your face. he gave you gentle praise as he kept you in his arms.

when he looked at you, all was right in the world. you held onto him and pressed kisses against his face. after care consisted of tea and a small snack followed by a shower together, where he washed every part of you.

even though you were capable of doing it yourself, you still appreciated how detail orientated he was in the manner of getting you clean. little did you know that biology was working its magic and simon's seed found home in your cervix.

you better hope that the line about the riley boys being hellions was untrue or you'd have your hands full. it didn't help that when simon's hand grazed your stomach as he washed you that you blushed and tucked yourself closer to him.

mama riley did have a ring to it.

[darylbae]

there’s just smth about daryl seeing you injured maybe a broken leg or even an amputated one from a bite and limping, someone holding you up as you walk. he’d almost run over to you and pick you up.

a dumb idea — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you were injured on a run, and daryl can't bare to see you that way without helping.

Rick had chosen you for a run, not alone, but for you to go. He'd seen you were quick, efficient with your melee weapons, and were probably one of the best choices. You were joining Rick and Glenn, Daryl having to sit this one out by Rick's orders. He hadn't cleared the prison in full yet, so he wanted Daryl back here to keep watch. Daryl and you weren't exclusively a thing, neither of you had spoken about it at all, but everyone else could see it was waiting to happen. You were currently just really good friends hiding your feelings for each other, or at least thinking you were hiding your feelings for each other. You were sat in the backseat of the car, happily talking to Glenn as the car rolled towards the gates. You glanced out the window to see Daryl, sulking at the gate yet picking his arm up to wave at you. You returned the gesture, a sweet smile on your face that Daryl had become addicted to. One of the many addicting things about you.

Your positive-for-the-end-of-the-world attitude had come to an end when you'd ran into a building to find some cover, the darkness of the building rendering you blind as your leg had been impaled by a broken bit of a glass shelf. You let out a cry, falling to your feet as Rick and Glenn rushed over to assist you. "You good?" "What happened?" Rick had turned a flashlight to your leg, seeing your jeans ripped and stuck to your leg with the amount of blood. You almost passed out at the look of it, the glass had lodged itself in there pretty snug. "We need to get her back, now," Rick demanded, wrapping an arm around your back and coordinating with Glenn to get you safely to the car. Rick had taken his shirt off and tied it around your leg above the wound, before beginning the drive back to the prison. Glenn had trained his eyes on you and your leg for most of the drive, making sure you were still alive and not dying back there. The drive felt like hours, you felt like closing your eyes but Glenn was adamant on talking to you. Telling you about Maggie, telling you about how sweet Daryl seems to be around you, and you knew it was a distraction tactic, to keep you awake and not looking at your completely blood soaked shin.

You heard the rattle of the gates as they'd slid open for the car, and you felt a short burst of relief to be back. "Dar..." You managed to speak, wincing as Rick had reached for your hand to pull you out. "Daryl." Rick and Glenn had their arms under yours, carrying most of your weight for you. Until Daryl had heard the commotion and come out to see what the fuck people were shouting for.

Daryl saw you. Your leg, completely red from the knee down, being assisted into the prison. He wanted to help, he wanted to ease your pain even just a little. Dropping his crossbow to the ground, he'd paced over to you, relieving Glenn and Rick of their duties. "It's okay, I got ya," he cooed, "I got 'er," he'd lifted you, arms clinging to you as he led you to the cell block. "It's okay, sweetheart." Your blood loss wasn't fatal, thankfully, but Herschel was about to have you on the mend in no time.

You'd been allowed to rest, peeling your eyes open after having slept a while. The first thing you were aware of was the pain in your leg, which was thankfully still there. It was still light outside, so it must not have been long at all. A bottle of water and some pain meds were sat at your bedside, and you'd desperately taken them in order to ease your pain. "There's my girl." You heard, and Daryl had entered your cell and sat at your side. "How's the leg?" You chuckled. "It's seen better days." You could've sworn you'd spotted a smile on his face for a moment. "Were you scared? Did you think I was gonna die?" You teased, poking his arm and smiling innocently up at him. "No," he answered, "you're a fighter. I know that." There was something he was keeping to himself, you could see it in his brain. Almost as if he wasn't allowing himself to say it. It had been a tough process even getting to a friendly level with him, he had always kept his feelings to himself. But you liked to believe you were making progress with him, you wanted to. "What's on your mind?" You asked sweetly, your voice like honey, and he was addicted. God, he was addicted. He wanted nothing more than to have you night and day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But he didn't know the first thing about flirting, or even dating. "Nothin," he grumbled, and you sighed dramatically. "Come on, Daryl," you exclaimed, "talk to me. I need some sort of stimulation for my brain." Your voice was light, but you meant it. He paused, almost debating whether or not to say it. "I just care about ya, is all. When I saw ya bein carried in, my mind just stopped and all I wanted to do was make sure you were okay. Told Rick it was a dumb idea." You smiled, poking his arm again. "You care about me, that's sweet. I care about you, too." He grabbed your hand as it made contact with his arm, and just held it between his own. This was his way of expression, to show you how he felt without ruining it with his words. The pair of you just sat in silence, hands interlaced, a stupid grin on both your faces as you stared at each other. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, a wave of confidence taking over you as you leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. Once Daryl had registered what you'd done, he'd turned his head, closing the small gap between you both for a delicate kiss. He was so gentle, his hands still holding yours firmly, and you wanted to do this forever. "I hope that speaks better than I do." He admitted, and you just laughed, resting your head on your shoulder. "Now get some rest, I don't want to see ya on your feet for the rest of the day."

[euthymiya]

friendly reminder ft. scar

you might have helped your boyfriend escape his jail cell, but that still doesn’t mean you’re done being mad at him for flirting with another girl

contents: fem reader ; spoilers for main quest—mentions of rover and scar interactions, mentions of reader helping scar escape jail ; established relationship ; reader is part of the fractsidus ; reader and scar are both low key toxic in a way that almost balances each other out to be healthy LOL. they are in love, just in crazy ways ; reader is not rover. in fact, she’s rather jealous of rover and scar loves it ; hand jobs—his cock zipper LIVES ; cum eating ; reader sits on scar’s lap ; not proof read pretend there are no mistakes if you stumble across one

“you’re awfully affectionate today,” scar chuckles, relishing in the trail of your lips along his face. they map out the marks that permanently reside along his skin, trekking the familiar path from one to another as you meet each destination. “i take it that means i’ve been missed?”

“hardly,” you grumble. but your actions say otherwise as your lips find his neck, kissing along the path to his pulse point, biting down and making him shiver happily at the pain.

“oh, i’m sure that’s true,” he snorts, humming happily at the way your teeth graze his skin.

it’s sure to leave a mark—and it’s on purpose. you’re lips aren’t there to reward him, or to shower him in your usual fondness. this time, it’s a reminder. it’s to make sure he knows you’re the one—the only one who can touch him like this.

“i think you should be more affectionate,” you glower, lips pulling away from him to form a sweet, precious little pout. it warms his heart, enough that he doesn’t miss the press of them against his skin as much as he normally would now that he gets to see that perfect little curl of your mouth. “i rescued you out of prison, you know.”

scar is never shy with his affection—but that doesn’t always mean he’s generous with it. sometimes, he withholds. just to be teasing, just to make you ache for it, just to be a bit cruel. it’s never enough to go too far, but it’s just enough to let him have his fun.

you don’t usually mind it. not until he seems to be generous with someone else.

“well now,” he drawls his words, almost like he’s playing a sick, twisted game. you think he is, watching him narrow his eyes in amusement as he leans closer, hovering his lips just above yours as he says, “rescue is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think? of course, i’d be fine escaping on my own, but needing a little aid here and there holds no shame, hm?”

you pull back as he leans even closer, not letting him feel the satisfaction of your lips against his own, glaring at him as you huff. you’re thoroughly unimpressed, and you want it known. (of course, all things considered, it’s a rather soft glare—as aggravating as scar can be, he’s easier to love than he is to be infuriated with. you know he knows it too, if the smug tug of his lips speaks for anything. still, you’re not pleased, and you think he should be made abundantly aware regardless).

“i could’ve left you in there,” you purse your lips, “stuck in that cell with hardly enough food and water because of that girl you’re so interested in.”

“oh?” he quirks a brow with a gleam in his eyes—so excited, so enthused by the prospect of your bitterness as you sulk, “is that jealousy i see on that beautiful face? oh my, we can’t have that, can we, my dear?”

“oh, am i your dear? i distinctly remember you calling her that too,” you huff, pulling back from him as you cross your arms.

he stops you, arms wrapping around your back and pulling him up his lap to press against his chest, closer and closer and even closer, until his mouth is back to being millimeters away from yours, hot breath fanning over you and sending goosebumps along your skin. he’s evil, too—traces the raised bumps with a delicate finger along your arm, chuckling at the way you shiver slightly.

“oh, this simply won’t do,” he pouts theatrically, “i didn’t think you’d take that so personally, sweetheart. you understand, don’t you? i was just trying to earn her trust.”

“hmph,” you turn away from him, looking off to the side stubbornly as you add, “i didn’t realize you’d have to have a happy little date, as i recall it, in order to earn trust. is her trust really all you want?”

“why, of course,” he gasps, hands cupping your face to bring your gaze back on him, his palms squeezing your cheeks together as your lips slightly pucker from the action, “how could i ever have it in me to want someone else when i have such a precious sight right before me? hm?”

that’s the thing about scar. so nice when he wants to be, so good with words, so easy to drip saccharine promises from his tongue like honey—sweet enough to mask the lethal taste of venom. one drop is all it takes to kill you. one drop is all it takes to weaken you to be his prey.

but you like it. you like this sick, twisted little game he plays. you like him when he makes you want him so bad, you long for a girl you’ve never even met to drop dead for ever getting fractionally close to him—even if it was all under a facade.

scar is never shy about his affections, but he makes you work for them. makes you earn them as he dangles them over your head. but you’re just as stubborn as he is cruel, never scared to make him earn your affections just as much as he makes you earn his.

you hum in thought, hand trailing down to his crotch as you trace along the zipper over his cock. he’s already semi-hard, much to your satisfaction. he doesn’t have the shame to seem embarrassed by it, either—grinning wider as he stares into you with a darkened glint in his eyes.

“i should’ve left you in that jail cell,” you mutter.

he pouts, so theatric as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. “don’t break my heart. i thought about you every second i was stuck in there, you know? it hurts my feelings when you say such cruel things.”

“oh does it?” you ask flatly, tracing the outline of his hardening erection through his pants. he hums and nods, letting out a soft, breathy moan as your palm at his clothed cock. “tell me something. would you kill her for me?”

“how extreme. that would be quite a shame,” he laughs, “she could be so useful, you know?”

you press the heel of your palm harder into him, earning a grunt as his hands grip your waist tightly with closed eyes. “would you?” you insist.

he opens his eyes to meet yours, dark with lust, sparkling with unyielding affection as he breathes, “of course. but you know that already, don’t you?”

you do. scar would kill anything—anyone. you like that. cherish it, even. blood would spill and life would drain before your love could die, and you like it that way. marvel in it. how satisfying it is, to have a man like him under your thumb, so intent to cross his already nonexistent lines just for you.

“good,” you finally smile, rewarding him with a proper kiss. he smiles himself against your mouth, letting you swallow his moans as your hand undoes the zipper over his crotch, pulling his hard, flushed cock free from its confinements as you slowly smear the precum along the swollen tip with your thumb.

he groans, biting your lip before he murmurs, “i missed this too in that cold little jail cell of mine. i missed how warm you always feel around me.”

your hand wraps around the thick girth, pumping the hot, velvety flesh as it twitches slightly in your hand. the filthy, squelching sound of your wet strokes mix with his low moans, a satisfying sound to your ears as you watch his face slack with pleasure, mouth parting to make the noises he knows inflate your ego.

scar is shameless enough to be loud, at least. it works both to your advantage and disadvantage at times. it’s certainly something you appreciate when you hear the proof of his pleasure, right there as the sounds bleed into you against your ear with hot breaths. but sometimes, when he takes you in not so hidden places, so risky and so dangerous of being caught, you appreciate his shamelessness a little less.

he’s never bothered by it, though. you think he’d love it, even, if anyone were to witness him fuck into you—so utterly careless of anything else other than having you as his.

his. because you do love being his, as difficult and infuriating as it might be.

“fuck, you always feel so good too,” he continues. he’s always so talkative, even when he’s dangerously at risk of cutting himself off with breathy, labored groans. you lean in, kissing along the scar of his left cheek as he whispers, “you feel that, don’t you? how hard i am just for you. what is there to be jealous of, sweetheart?”

“you should only be having dates with me,” you squeeze his cock tighter as you huff the words, stroking along his length quicker, earning a choked sound from him as he digs his fingers into your hips harder—it’s almost bruising. “the only one you should be calling my dear is me.”

“oh but you’re just so cute when you’re mad,” he pants through his laughs, closing his eyes and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, humming before he bites into you as he muffles his sounds, “i can’t help myself. it’s nothing personal, okay? just a little good fun, that’s all.”

“i hate you,” you say petulantly.

you don’t. that’s why your other hand cards through his sweaty locks as his orgasm approaches quicker and quicker, the thick, pulsing cock in your hand twitching in your hold as he gasps, “oh now you’re really hurting my feelings. how can you say something so, so harsh?”

“i hate her too,” you say darkly.

he cums at that. like witnessing your jealousy gets him off, like hearing the pure hatred in your voice excites him until thick, hot ropes of cum release from his swollen tip, coating your hand as you stroke him through his high. he groans, a labored call of your name falling from his lips as he bucks into your fist.

you like the sound of your name on his lips. he sounds so good like that, strained from his own pleasure, so sickeningly smitten as he utters the syllables of your name like it’s his favorite word.

he says it so pretty. so sweetly. so affectionately.

one thing’s for certain—you know he’s never, ever said her name like this.

“look at you,” he coos once he’s done spilling into your hand, catching his breath as his head pulls way from your shoulder. your good hand is still in his hair, pulling it slightly to angle it up to meet your face as he grins and teases, “aren’t you lovely? rewarding me even when you’re mad at me.”

you bring your cum coated fingers to your lips, licking a stripe of his release off your hand before you reply, “just reminding you that no one could make you feel like this.”

“oh, sweetheart,” he tugs you closer, brushing your crotch against his still hardened cock as you gasp, “i could never, ever forget. don’t you worry, my dear.”

a) rover is cool and all but scar seems like he wants her so bad and it simultaneously is kind of hot but also kind of infuriating like you’re mine sir

b) a reader who’s low key crazy like him is the kind of trope i need. someone who will stab him and then kiss him, you feel me?

c) i need his cock zipper back i’m very mad they got rid of it. and i also need to see his cock too. i am, of course, disappointed as neither have happened so. :(

[litnerdwrites]

Feyre betrayed Nesta in the worst way...

It's a common stance that many people, regardless of if they love or hate Nesta/Rhys/the IC, seem to have, but I don't think it is. Was Nesta complacent in keeping it from her since she found out? Yes. Was that wrong of her? Yes again. Was blurting it out the way that she did also not ideal, to put it mildly? Absolutely yes. But was it out of malice? No.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'

The idea that this was all said in malice just never sat right to me, and after scrolling through some comments on a video discussing the matter, the pieces finally clicked into place. First, let's talk about the hike, though.

Her breakdown after that hike wasn't a moment of catharsis and letting walls down. It was a weeks worth of exhaustion, dehydration and depression that resulted in Nesta giving in to the torture she was put through just to end it. It was a pivotal moment in the IC's efforts to break and then reconstruct her to their liking, or rather, to Feyre's liking. However, a vital stepping stone in reaching this point would be for them to gaslight and isolate her until she truly had no one. I mentioned before that I didn't think anyone in the NC would chose Nesta, and this is an example of why I believe that.

Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'

Nesta is clearly upset and hurting and Feyre disregards that entierly, not even offering to discuss or find out why Nesta is hurt or feeling the way she is. Feyre didn't bother to try and understand Nesta before and she isn't bothering now. Either Feyre assumes she knows what Nesta is thinking/ feeling, or she just doesn't care. She dismisses her, telling her to go back to her prison, disregarding Nesta's choices, autonomy and opinions again.

If I recall right, it was Amren who informed Nesta that she was free to go where she wanted if she made it down the ten thousand steps. Feyre wouldn't order Amren, even to stand up for her sister, but happily go against Amren's own words to punish Nesta? Hypocrisy at it's finest.

All of this leads to one outcome: Nesta feeling trapped. Cornered and without a single ally in the whorld who would defend her properly. Isolated from anyone who'd be willing to treat her with decency, while believing she doesn't even deserve the basics of kindness. It leaves Nesta more prone to actually going through with committing suicide, since the behaviour of these people, mixed with her own self hatred, sets a precedent for how Nesta believe she'd be treated.

We see this when Nesta first meets Emerie, thinking to herself that 'the invitations would stop' when Emerie learned what nesta was really like. Or at least what Nesta perceived herself to be like.

Even though Nesta has Emerie and Gwyn, she has no reason to think, based on what brainwashing the IC has already done coupled with her self deprecating mindset, that they wouldn't side with the IC. This isn't to say Emerie and Gwyn are like the IC by any means. I think they're great friends to Nesta, and if that changes or not later on is more so up to SJM and her writing, rather than their characterisation. It's the reality that the IC have created for Nesta through abuse, gaslighting and borderline torture that's wound up feeding in to Nesta's already existing trauma and self worth that has lead to her becoming isolated this way.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'

The comment on the video I saw explained that, while Nesta was angry when saying this, she wasn't trying to hurt Feyre or take her anger out on anyone. Nesta was angry because she wasn't told that she made a new trove. She was angry that these people had the audacity to vote on her life, and take bodily autonomy from her. She was angry that Feyre wasn't acknowledging or even trying to understand how Nesta was feeling. She was angry that she was treated like the bad guy- or more like a petulant child in this scene, I suppose- and had her feelings dismissed again.

Dismissed the way her mother/grandmother used to when she was trained. The way her father did when he refused to hunt. The way the Mortal Queens did when Nesta merely asked them to save her people. The way Feyre did when she asked for Nesta's help again, and again, and again during the war, only for it to never be enough in the eyes of other. The way that Elain did when she got upset at Nesta time and time again for how she handled her trauma or how she wasn't over her trauma or how Nesta tried to protect her. The way Cassian dismissed her feelings when he got mad at her for having an opinion of Rhysand.

Nesta was angry. She had every right to be angry. Most people would be angry, and alone, and if they already had suicidal thoughts like Nesta, having been abandoned by everybody while gaslit into thinking it was fine, and then only called upon to be used for the benefit of others while the snickered behind her back and dismissed her again.

As the commenter put it; She was trying to find someone who would relate to her anger. Nesta wanted an ally, someone who wouldn't leave her alone. Someone to be by her side and, perhaps subconsciously, thought that Feyre, who'd hunted for them and helped look after them for years, would chose Nesta's side.

The parallels between Nesta and Feyre's situation here are clear, and I think Nesta understood that when she said what she said. I think that Feyre believing Nesta said it to hurt her was a gross misunderstanding on her part, but it's not like she ever asked Nesta how she felt. Now that I think about it, for all that Feyre talks about Nesta feeling too much, and taking everything to heart, she never once confirms with Nesta. Never asks how Nesta feels.

Since coming to the Night Court, Nesta's feelings and traumas have been twisted and spoken about only in relation to how Feyre feels.

'Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends-my family- had to hear all about it?'

The intervention began, not because of Nesta doing something to risk hurting herself, but because Feyre was embarrassed and started crying into her breakfast.

'All of it pains me… It pains me that Nesta has become… this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other’s throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too.'

Cassian is pained, not because Nesta is suffering so greatly that she isolated herself for her own sisters (who didn't really act like sisters between the end of ACOWAR to... well now, so it's understandable), or because Nesta felt her only reprieve from her pain was in sex and alcohol, but because Feyre hurts over it. He knows Nesta does (but he doesn't know she hates fire? Or is uncomfortable at their social gatherings, since in ACOFS he somehow hoped she wouldn't take the bribe money and say she enjoyed their solstice party??? Because...Why?) But, of course, it's Feyre's feelings on the matter that are prioritised.

'Nesta is Nesta. She does what she wants, even if it kills her sister.'

Rhysand, not that I expect much from him, honestly, is utpse, not because he can't find a way to help Nesta. Not because his court is actively cruel to Nesta, hell, he joins in. Not because Nesta is in pain, in no small part because of him and his court. Not even because Nesta is spending his money. Because she's upsetting Feyre. Because, god forbid, Nesta have trauma and handle it in a way that doesn't make his wife happy.

Feyre tells others how she thinks Nesta feels, the others go with it, or just come to their own conclusions, not sure which is worse, but nobody stops to consider how she feels. Feyre feeling like Nesta said it to hurt her, I think, is simply proof that she doesn't understand Nesta.

Let me ask you, if you found out you were lied to in a way that affects your ability to make informed decisions regarding your own body, by someone you were supposed to trust, and who should've had your back, and that your own sibling has been betrayed by the same people in a very similar, if not identical way, and yet you're the one being turned into the bad guy, and dismissed, would that not make you feel isolated and frustrated?

It's understandable that Nesta tried, either consciously or subconsciously, feel less alone by appealing to common ground to find an ally. Nesta mentions at the end of ACOSF that she believes Feyre loved her from the start, and after those years in the cabin, I think Nesta sees Feyre as someone reliable.

This scene doesn't feels like Nesta trying to hurt Feyre. It feels like Nesta trying to reach out to the one person she could rely on; Feyre. Her mother was abusive, her father was a deadbeat, Elain was her ward, and the IC hate her.

'Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub, anymore. I have to use buckets.” I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging water…'

Amren tells Cassian to keep reaching out his hand, even though Nesta has reached out her own time and time again. Esspecially to Feyre, as she was the one Nesta relied on before. Possibly even the only person Nesta has ever relied on, and Fyre was the one she was trying to rely on now.

Nesta relied on Feyre, and needed to rely on her again. To have strength together, in a situation where they both lost their choices and autonomy to Rhysand and his (cause don't pretend it's even slightly Feyre's) IC.

It may have been wrong to say it in that way, at that time, under those circumstances, but this, to me, feels like Nesta's way of reaching out her own hand only to be misunderstood, punished, and dismissed again. And again. And again.

In a way, I think Feyre might have, unintentionally, betrayed Nesta in a worse way than Elain ever has. Elain was a ward. Almost like a child, to Nesta. They were never on equal footing. Moreover, Nesta was never punished if she upset Elain, no that she should be, or if Elain misunderstood her. Nesta never relied on Elain the way she relied on Feyre. She never trusted or had faith in Elain, the way she clearly trusted Feyre. She had thought she'd found an ally, with similar pain, in Feyre, in the moments she spilled the secret, but Feyre didn't care.

When I was reading the scene where Cassian told Feyre his idea to take Nesta on a punishment hike, she sounded all too gleeful when telling him how miserable Nesta would be. That, in my opinion, is the worst betrayal of all.

[allpiesforourown]

Okay, okay, permanent-pregnancy for Shizun anon back again. I have read the worries people have, but have been too sick meanwhile to answer, but here it goes! Like, there is no reason to worry about the potential child, because you just have to decide what is your goal when making Shizun pregnant??? Children don't have to be involved at all!

Like, we know Shizuns love of the monstrous right?? What if he had a little accident when finding a new plant and after he is saved he finds it left a little something behind? And of course this plant is extremely rare so he couldn't possibly just let it's offspring die, no the only option is to carry it to term and then safely release it back into nature! He would be so cute and excited about learning about it, but also sooooooo shy, why did it have to be like this, oh, but he can't show that to the other lord's if they then decide to remove it, he is way too protective for that! So as his disciples it is of course our responsibility to make sure Shizuns is cared for and all his needs met while the little baby plant grows inside him!! (And if afterwards Shizuns realised this is the only way to keep the plant from dying out... Shizun is so kind and sometimes sacrifices have to be made)

But what if it is us breeding him that is the point? Well, I imagine Binghe and Shizun having shameless sex doing dual cultivation and as Binghe *AHEM* in Sizhun their cultivation mix and a new spirit is created. Something between demonic cultivation and human cultivation, something never seen before! Something only they could make together and now have to foster and grow! Since this isn't a normal pregnancy who knows how long it will last, just how it will affect sweet kind Shizun? Certainly, it is up to dear Binghe to make certain all Shizuns needs are met no matter what!!! (And if suddenly other cultivators want that new cultivation core and tries to kidnap Shizun? Well, then it is ours Binghes responsibility to save him each time which means Shizun would gladly reward us in any way we wanted!)

Okay, but what about some darker drama?? Shizun stuck in the Water Prison and Binghe can't have him running, what do he do? He finds an artifact that keeps Shizun pregnant and vulnerable (Not with actual child, it is just a curse), because how can he run when his feet hurt and stomach grows? How could he show himself to the rest of the world when he is like this? No, now he has to stay with Binghe and hopefully this will give Binghe time to prove himself for Shizun! And once they finally talk and clear the misunderstandings, then Binghe of course undoes the curse and they live happily ever after! (And if they keep the artifact for some... More adventurous evenings, that is between Binghe and Shizun)

And of course, what if you want to go full horror? Shizun becomes cursed without his knowledge and nothing we do can find the source or undo it! As he gets morning sickness, slowly grows larger, has all these weird cravings, there is no doubt what it is! But how could it be possible? Shizun knows he is a virgin, never even thought about the deed, how could this have happened? And he is a man, this shouldn't even be possible! He would be so scared and lost and we would be there to hold his hand and for him to have a shoulder to cry on as he shared all his worries and we would stay by his side during it all, so he never felt alone. Who knows what will happen, but we do know we will never leave Shizun! (And as long as he is like this... Then I suppose Shizun could never leave us...)

The point is, you need to ask yourself, what is the goal with the preggers Shizun kink?? None of these examples require an actual child to be involved, like we don't need to consider ethical dilemmas here! Do we want Shizun protecting the rare life growing inside of him? To we want to see him fill out with something we Binghe gave him, something created together? Do we want the drama of using the vulnerability against him until we finally understand each other? Or do we love the horror and a scared Shizun who can only go to us for support? So many different directions to go and each of them delicious in their own way! The wonders of fiction mean there are no limits of what we can put Shizun through OR how we save him <3

Sorry about my ramblings, just wanted to share my thoughts <3 Hopefully one or more of these scenarios will be written out soon, just have to write a few more chapters for my fic first!

Have a great day!

Op I am genuinely flabbergasted. I don't think anyone has ever out-horny'd me like this when it comes to shizun. I am listening and learning. Pondering all these mpreg alternatives. Thank you

[see-arcane]

One last thing I’ve been poking at today regarding the issue of the letters. A small glimmer of something other than miserable to take away. 

It’s not a whole silver lining. A copper one at best, and barely there. But the fact of Jonathan’s cleverness with this attempt at sending out a message and the shorthand itself was a small victory.

The big spotlight is on all the defeats in this entry. The foiled attempt at sending private messages. The ruined hope that Jonathan can rely on his fellow human beings for help. The mockery and crushing of spirit in the burned letter to Mina along with being forced to reseal Hawkins’ now-pointless note and being locked in the room for misbehaving. It’s nothing but endless salt in too many wounds. Jonathan is in no state to harvest anything but despondency from the night’s display.

But.

There is something here that is worth noting. And that’s Dracula’s reaction to that shorthand note itself. What are the exact words? The exact actions?

“--one is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other"—here he caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly—"the other is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly held letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed.

Now obviously, the whole show of waving the letters in Jonathan’s face was a sadistic power play. Just proof positive of his influence and Jonathan’s uninterrupted helplessness, plus an extra dash of renewed hopelessness. All good fun. Right up until he opens the shorthand letter and sees those strange symbols. He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t feign being puzzled by a stranger’s letter--so it must be!--getting in with Jonathan’s letter to Hawkins.

Just like the moment with the mirror and the bloody cut, just like the surprise of the ladies moving in on Jonathan without permission, Dracula is confronted by something that makes a big ugly crack in the careful masquerade he’s been enjoying so far. He likes this game. He likes being literal king of the castle and playing the host and pulling Jonathan’s spirit apart like so many loose unhappy threads. Most importantly, he likes being the one holding all the cards. All the information. We’ll see later in the book just how well others’ ignorance is used as a cudgel to beat any of his would-be obstacles into paste.

But now, here’s the shorthand. A thing Jonathan knows and he does not.

And Dracula is trapped by the performance. The letter’s already assigned as a prop, a stranger’s note, it cannot matter to them, Jonathan’s letters are sacred to him, blah blah. But if the shorthand is a stranger’s, he can’t even wheedle Jonathan to divulge it for him. So it’s stuck as a surprise mystery. Small as it is, ultimately futile as it is, it’s still A Thing Dracula Did Not Plan. A Thing Dracula Does Not Know. A Card Dracula Does Not Hold.

And Count Dracula, as will be revealed, is many things in addition to being a monster: including an utter control freak. Classic gothic edition mastermind. Every t crossed, every i dotted, every detail and solicitor in their proper place. Now here’s his pet-guest-prisoner not only doing a no-no by trying to reach out to others behind his back, but flaunting some 19th century secret cipher right under his nose! The nerve! Granted, he did tear open the letter to snoop on it, but such trifles don’t matter here. 

What matters is Dracula’s reaction being one that briefly breaks through the guise of the game. A genuine sour note that nettles him into burning the letter outright with a sneer and then, happily, steering immediately back on track with Hawkins’ letter and Jonathan’s timeout. Again, it’s a small thing. A mere mote.

But I’d bet money that part of Dracula’s ‘many labors’ ahead of him now include an almost petulant scrounging through his books for any mention of those odd symbols so he can snap it up too. Research he must do alone, at a loss, because Jonathan unwittingly arranged his writing in such a way that it endangers the Count’s game if the latter has to admit the writing was Jonathan’s after all. So he’s left to huff and puff over it in private. Because all the information under this roof is supposed to be his, damn it. 

And Jonathan, trapped and cornered and bereft prisoner that he is, proved that it isn’t.

[batfam-nalu-onepiece]

Luffy: Hey everyone! I want you to meet my new friend. His name is Tra-guy! Say hi!

Law: Hello. I’m not his friend. We are just working together. I’m only here for a little, then I’m leaving

Sanji: Hey welcome to the crew

Law: Crew? No like I said, I will only be here for a little while. A week or two tops

Sanji: Yeah sure. Luffy liked you. So you’re a part of our crew whether you like it or not. Hell, I refused him outright like three times but he made me join

Law: He..made you? Are you like his prisoner?

Sanji: No no, we’re cool now. He just doesn’t give up until he gets you on his crew. It’s not just me too.

Law: Not just you……*looks to the rest of the Strawhats* How many of you didn’t want to join his cree at first?

Zoro, Nami, Chopper, Franky raise their hand

Nami: Really only Robin and Brooke were the ones who wanted to be here. Ussop was in the middle. Luffy said “we’re friends so get on” and he came happily but everyone else..

Law: That’s…so he built his crew by just seeing people he likes and making them part of his crew? No wonder you are all so……odd

Nami: Odd? You should feel lucky! We stopped him from inviting a guy stuck in a treasure box, A tree-Zombie and a unicorn-zombie that were drinking sake, A pair of Legs and a centaur.

[queenslimeball]

I'm home

Sounds like a dream part 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Contents; angst, fluff, mother!reader, dad!gator

Summary; After finding out about his son, Gator can't deal with prison life. So he takes matters into his own hands.

Even with good behaviour, Gator isn't getting out of prison any time soon. He'd very much like to. Not for selfish reasons like they were for the first two years of his sentence. Now, he just wants to be there to support his family. His son.

Not a day goes by where he doesn't think of both Y/n and Alex. The only two people that really give his life meaning. Every day is filled with regret and remorse for what he's done. For what he thought he should've done. Now, it all seems insane to him. No matter how much he rants to the guards, who surprisingly haven't quit their jobs, he's just stuck. Nothing he can do.

Y/n's words still ring in his ears. "He reminds me of you in a way because he–"

Gator still wonders what she was about to say. Even three years later, it's still on his mind.

Three years, that's right, since he last got visited by Y/n and Alex. Another three years of crippling loneliness. Another three years with the added pain that he'll never know truly what his son looks like. That's the reason why he cries himself to sleep most nights.

He doesn't want to seem weak, so he keeps noise to a minimum, facing the wall. He can't control when the tears fall each time he thinks about it. He'll never see his son, and he'll never see Y/n again.

That's when, one night, Gator has a terrible thought. One that never even crossed his mind before, shockingly. It's a horrible idea, of course. An idea that most likely cannot be executed in his state. But he thinks it. And he likes the thought of it. I'm gonna break out.

The thought resonates with him for a long while. But each day that goes by, it seems more and more impossible for him. His dream life is just out of reach.

Y/n, with her five year old at her hip, enters the prison. It's been long enough since she's visited the father of her child, so it's only right that she sees him. Plus, Alex is old enough now to talk to his daddy properly. She wants Gator to have that experience of having a conversation with him. She knows it will make him feel better.

She approaches the front desk and smiles at the woman there, who doesn't seem as friendly. She looks up to Y/n, shooting her a glare as if to ask what she wants.

"Uh, hi! I'm here to visit Gator Tillman. Is he available?" Y/n says nervously under the receptionist's judging stare.

"No." She bluntly replies.

"Why not?"

"Haven't you heard?" The woman questions, as if obvious.

"Heard what?"

"Gator Tillman escaped."

Y/n leaves the prison in shock. How did he manage that!? Why did he escape!? She carefully puts Alex in his car seat before getting in the front of her car. She drove up here to visit Gator. It's somewhat of a holiday. Where is she gonna find her son's father?

Gator had received a lot of help. Luckily, he surrounded himself with the right kind of guys for him in jail. Ones who had been planning a breakout for years. Gator was allowed to tag along, so he quickly found himself on a bus to Chicago. Or at least he hopes so.

On the bus, he met a sweet woman named Georgia. She was on the way to Chicago and helped him get there. But that's as far as she could do. With the departure of Georgia and the sudden realisation that he's alone, blind, in a city he doesn't know he feels a sense of panic. He doesn't even know where Y/n lives.

Y/n is doing the dishes while Alex sits at the kitchen counter with a few pillows to act as a booster seat. He's drawing with the pack of pencils his mother recently bought for him, humming along to whatever song is playing on the radio that he doesn't recognise.

"Mommy, what should I draw next to the tiger eating an apple?" Alex asks. He looks over to Y/n, a bright smile on his face like usual as he kicks his legs happily.

"How about the tree where the apple came from?" Y/n suggests. "That way, you can draw an animal in the tree."

"That's a good idea. Thank you, Mommy."

When the doorbell rings, Y/n huffs, taking off the washing up gloves.

"Ooh! Who is it?"

"I don't know, sweetie. Wait here." She assures, kissing Alex's forehead as she walks by. The doorbell rings again and she shouts out to whoever is at the door that she's coming. Damn, this person is impatient.

Looking through the peephole, her eyes widen. She debates whether she wants to open the door or not, ultimately deciding to just do it...

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd drop by. Does a lovely lady like you need any help?" It's Devon, a guy she knows from work but often has to avoid.

"I never gave you my address." Y/n narrows her eyes at him, feeling slightly creeped out.

"Oh, I know." He chuckles. "I asked around."

"Who told you?"

"Charlotte. Nice girl. Didn't question it."

Goddammit, Charlie... She's Y/n's closest friend at work and the best friend she has as of moving to Chicago. She's a little bit ditzy but insanely friendly and sweet. It's no wonder she gave Y/n's address to Devon, no questions asked.

"Why did you ask people for where I live?" She says, hand on the door and having to physically restrain herself from slamming the door in his face.

"Well, I understand being a single mom wouldn't be easy. So... I wondered if you need any help with anything at all." He flashes a grin, as if that would charm her. Rather the opposite.

"I think I've got it under control. You can go." Y/n replies, pulling a face. Devon starts to speak again, but she quickly shuts the door and locks it. She heads back to the kitchen to continue washing up.

"Mommy, do you like my tree? I added a bird in it with a nest." Alex says, pushing the piece of paper in her direction.

"Aw, it's beautiful, baby." She replies, petting his hair gently. "Are you done, or are you gonna add more?"

"More! Can you help?"

"Something climbing the tree, maybe? Like a cat?"

"Ooh! Thank you, Mommy."

"Of course, sweetheart, of course." She replies gently, giving him a forehead kiss and walking over to the sink.

Devon, to say the least, is disappointed. Although, it's not a big deal. There's several other women he could and would go for. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way down the street.

The winter air is chilly and bitter, nipping at the skin of his face and making his eyes water. He doesn't want to be outside for that much longer, so he pulls out his phone to text someone, anyone, to see if they're free.

Turning a corner close to the building beside him, Devon bumps into someone. He staggers and looks up from his phone. "Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" Devon shouts, sending his text and putting it back in his pocket.

"I can't." Gator replies, trying to steady himself from the ground. That's when Devon realises he's knocked over a blind person.

"Shit– sorry, man. Didn't notice." Devon says, grabbing Gator's wrist to help him stand up.

"S'all good." Gator murmurs, palm flat against the wall to familiarise himself. "D'you mind helping me get somewhere?"

"Yeah, go on."

"An apartment complex should be nearby if I'm in the right place. One apparently with loads of flowers outside." Gator recalls.

"Oh, I just been there." Devon says, helping Gator around the corner. "Go straight down that sidewalk, and it's on your right."

Devon may be nice enough to give the directions, but he's not nice enough to help Gator get there. He's not that kind of guy. He wouldn't take that much time out of his day to help some random guy. So with that, he walks off.

"Oh, thank you! Do you, uh–" Gator trails off, hearing him walk away. "Hey–"

Gator huffs, left alone. He begins to make his way forward again. He's been on the run for months now, trying to find his way to his family. For the most part, he's failed this goal. But after getting a lead of her address, he hasn't stopped hoping to find them both. Now, he's so close he can just feel it. He feels that familiar tingling in his stomach.

The only things he hears are the wind rushing by his ears and the rolling sound of his mobility cane on the jagged sidewalk. Mutters of people walking by remind him to tug his hood further over his head. He doesn't want any chance of being caught. Not now.

He finally feels glass instead of brick. Windows... to the apartment complex? He finds the handle of a door and hopes that he's there.

Once inside, he confronts the dilemma that is finding the right apartment number. He knows it's number 34. He's definitely sure. He needs help...

Gator knocks at the first door he can find, hoping to encounter a nice person. He waits for a moment and hears the door unlock and swing open.

"Can I help you?" A woman's voice says.

"Yeah!" Gator replies. "Please. Couldja help me find apartment 34?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. Let's go to the elevator." She replies. Gator is relieved. He's finally made it, right?

After being guided into the elevator and shown down a hallway, the woman taps him to stop him. She guides his hand to the right door and bids her farewell.

Y/n is getting Alex ready for school when she hears an unrhythmic knock at the door. She sits Alex down on the sofa and allows him to watch the TV for a little bit longer while she goes to see who it is.

She's a lot more shocked to look through the peephole this time. But she rushes to open the door quickly, swinging it open with a little too much force.

"Gator!? What are you– I went to visit you a few months ago and you wasn't there! Alex was so disappointed."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm here now." He reaches out, hand brushing against Y/n's ear, despite him aiming to find her cheek. "I'm home."

"You can't be here.." She replies reluctantly. "You broke out of jail! I mean– what if I get in trouble just for knowing you? For harbouring you from the cops?"

"I broke out to be with you." Gator's voice cracks. "To be here for Alex. Please."

Y/n knows what's safe for Alex. She does. But the desperation in Gator's voice really gets to her. She can imagine he's been through a lot. And he's had to find her blindly. She was confused with how Devon found her address, but Gator? That's a whole other level. She reaches out for him, arms sliding around him and gently pulling him close.

"You're home." She murmurs.

"Really?"

"Really." She adds. She pressed a gentle kiss to Gator's jaw. "The fact you broke out of jail to be here for me and Alex means alot."

"So you'll be with me again? I've made it up to you?" He asks pleasingly. He needs this to be true.

"I'm prepared to be with you." She replies, cupping his cheek in her hand softly. "If you're here for me, I'm here for you."

[junkiepunkie]

Marauders fic snippet?

Hey so I thought I’d put a lil snippet of the first chapter of my new marauders fic here and ask people’s thoughts? (For context, the fic is set during prisoner of Azkaban and onwards)

this excerpt comes right after Remus finds out Sirius has escaped Azkaban:

Remus thought about laughing, he really did, the type of exasperated laugh that people let slip at the worst of times, but he couldn't. Everything he had tried so desperately to forget for the past 12 years was crashing into him at once, and he was drowning in it. Could he even go to Hogwarts again? Could he ride the train without James? Or eat in the great hall without Pete? write in a classroom without Lily looking over his shoulder? He didn't know. It was moments like this where Remus most wished he still had someone who knew everything about him. Someone he could really hash these big questions out with. well, Remus didn't quite know anyone who knew his childhood anymore, but he knew just who he needed in this moment. 

He hauled himself with the last ounce of power he thought he could muster that morning and put on his worn, brown Mackintosh coat, and dragged himself out of number 7 Godric's hollow and to the train station. He needed London. now. 

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

Remus triggered the cafe door bell upon entering. He smiled for the first time that day at the sound. He had scrapped his plans to visit the job centre and taken a day trip to Camden, where his favourite coffee shop lay hidden down a fairy-light laden alley. "Macdonald Coffeehouse" was painted moss green and burnt orange, with brick peeking out where the wall was chipped in the corner. As he entered, Remus bathed in the warm light and shed his distress for a moment, frozen for the time being in a melancholy hopefulness. He walked up to the counter like an eager kid and waited for a minute before finally caving and letting out a small "hello" to alert those in the backroom that someone was present. 

"oh shit- erm ONE SEC!" a melodic female voice shouted through from the store room.

Remus Laughed. "s'alright Mary its only me!" 

A relieved face peeked out from behind the door. Mary was glowing, six months pregnant and flashing her eye-reaching smile. 

"Well, if it isn't my favourite customer." she grinned waltzing over. "god, you came the one day I made Jill take a break!" 

Remus sighed happily, Jill, Mary's long term girlfriend was a workaholic to say the least but Remus knew that she wasn't long after her top surgery, no wonder Mary was refusing to let her work. 

"Yeah you'll have to tell her I said hi." 

Mary rolled her eyes "tell her yourself! Just come over again sometime. It's been ages." 

Remus bit his gum to keep from tearing up. "actually... that's kind of what I came here to talk about."

Mary raised her eyebrows and pouted the way she always did when she knew Remus was going to say. Without a word she held up her finger to him and started preparing his usual -cinnamon latte- with a laboured sigh. Remus sat at the nearest table and prepared himself for a debrief.

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

Remus held his middle finger up to Mary in a fit of laughter. 

"I can't fucking believe you! i'm trying to make a serious decision!" he told her.

She snorted "fuck off with your 'decision' shit! 'oh i've just been offered a job in a mansion in Scotland where I get free food and housing and get to do my dream job, but oh no Mary! it's so far from you!' yeah that a real hard choice."

"uh- it's a castle actually." Remus mocked

Mary stuck out her tongue before she glanced at the shops clock. 

"Christ okay, i can't chat for much longer hun, you know how weirdly busy this place gets at night."

Remus smirked. 'Weirdly busy' was code for Mary's 'herbal tea' hours being mobbed. "of course-"

"No wait. Before you leave we are going to get to the bottom of why you really don't want to take this job."

Remus groaned. He should've known he couldn't hide from Mary, she knew him too well.

"right," he started "You remember I told you about my school? and um... what happened after school."

Mary looked to the floor and she sipped her tea "yeah, the gunman."

"exactly." Remus choked on his lie but recovered as he always did "well, this- this school is my school so going back.."

"feels like taking a trip down memory lane." Mary finished "yeah, you know what I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. I reckon i'd crumble."

Remus frowned gently "nah, you wouldn't. You'd move on.”

the fic is called “we were laughing” on ao3

[luka-ali]

My Lovely Belphegor (Belphegor x Reader)

Obey me OG Story: Spoilers: Lesson 15-18

Sinners are sent to prison, locked up so they could redeem their mistakes and learn from them. I always wondered why I was locked up in the attic by my own brother, whom I had nothing but love for. Now, there is only hatred, the same I have for them..

Those wretched humans...

The one who destroyed my family, my home, my sanity and...My lovely sister..Lilith.  

I hate Lucifer!!

I hate those humans!!

All of the ones who hurt me should just disappear!!!

"Lord Diavolo, an exchange program? what is this now? have you hit your head or something?" I remember clearly that I had said that. 

But all my feelings were brushed aside with one glare from my prideful brother. 

“Lucifer! You have to talk to lord Diavolo, tell him to kill this exchange program,” I fought back for what I thought was right. For myself..

“It’s time you forget about Lilith” Brother coldly replied..

HOW DARE YOU!! 

 Big Brother?Why?Why did you forget about Lilith?

I won’t allow it, I will never allow it!

I won’t forgive you! I won’t forgive you!

“All the fighting and now it seems like I am stuck in this attic. Am I wrong somehow? Someone help me?” I continued to bury all those feelings, I swear I will destroy all humans and I will start with..Diavolo’s precious human exchange student. 

(Y/n) (L/n).. I’ve come to learn that name when Mammon yelled it when he was trying to make a run from Levi who was chasing him for money. At that time I was annoyed, their hollering woke me from my slumber. 

“Come here human, only you can save me,” I remember calling you, to me, the one that shall be your grim reaper. 

“Hello, who are you?” You softly questioned. 

Cute, you were cute for a human but that will not save you from my millennia of accumulated hatred. 

“I am a human..just like you," I lied, you smiled. 

Did you feel at ease? To be in the presence of a human? Surely Solomon was far from human. This is going smoothly, too easy.

Come little lamb, I’ll kill you softly. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(Y/n)!! (Y/n)!! This is not funny at all? Get a hold of yourself,” My stupid scumbag of a brother, foolishly cried over an irrelevant human. 

I let out a chuckle, it was hilarious. 

“I'm feeling the happiest I felt in a long time,” I internally smiled, externally laughed. Lucifer looked panicked, it must be because his reputation along with Diavolo is now in the gutter. 

This is what happens if you test my patience. 

But…

Beel..? 

Why are you looking at me as if I hurt you?

It was just some irrelevant human. 

“(Y/n)!! Asmo yelled in surprise, I thought it was foolish, I killed you, but you were standing right there. 

“How are you still alive? It doesn’t matter, I’ll just kill you,” I came to that conclusion. 

“Wait!! Lilith lived, she lived as a human,” you said. 

What..

Lucifer pledges loyalty to Diavolo in exchange for Lilith to be reborn as human?

That she lived happily?

And that THIS human is actually a distant descendant of human Lilith?

LIES!! LIES!!  LIES

“I refuse to believe all this nonsense” I said in annoyance. All this is just a plot to manipulate me. It can’t be!

“It’s true..”Lucifer admitted. If it is coming from his mouth then it must be true. If it is true, then what does it do for me now but I know that a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. 

“(Y/n) is Lilith’s descendant,” I internally thought as I ran to embrace you in tears and that time you froze up, I didn’t care. 

The whole time I was sitting next to you clinging to your arm, drinking tea, and bickering with my brothers, I only valued my feelings, not your trembles. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I wonder? I fell for you. 

I did notice that you were very distant in the beginning but after a few moments you started to smile at me. You successfully repaired my awkward relationship with my brothers. I am grateful to you, your kindness, your strength to move on, and your sweet smile.

 The first Mammon:

“Belphi, that order is table 6,”

“Heheh, Mammon there is sauce on your nose,”

“Belphi, come’on don’t fall asleep here,”

“Thanks for tagging along for helping me buy a gift for Diavolo, I appreciate it, really!!”

The second Leviathan

“Belphi.. Um.. Levi had to receive a package.. What do you say, wanna play with me?”

“ Bephi, left.. Go left, we are going to lose!!”

“Want me to caress your hair till you fall asleep? Sure!!”

“Hmm, hmmmm, sleep well”

The third Satan

“Anti-Lucifer league?! Me!?” 

“Haha Diavolo’s babygirl must be a password to the study!”

“The lecture is tiring,”

“Wanna study with Satan and me?”

The fourth Asmo

“Belphi! Your fashion sense is amazing!”

“Your taste matches my style.”

“Thank you for choosing this for me!!”

“I’ll make sure to wear this to Diavolo’s birthday party.”

The fifth Beel 

“Beel! I think you should forgive yourself,”

“The love between twins is the most beautiful one.”

“I’m sure, it will all be alright,”

“I’m always here. Do your best!!”

“Beel, you are the protector of the family and everyone is counting on you!!”

The last Lucifer

“That’s brave of you!! I’ll always be by your side.”

“Thank you for protecting me!”

“I’m sure Lilith lived in a way she deserved.”

“You brothers make me so happy!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember clearly, that day..when I asked you to make me yours. When you said yes, I was happy. Very. When my mark came onto your body that was the time I must’ve fallen in love with you.

(Y/n), you embrace me when I’m sad. 

You cuddle with me when I want to sleep.

You are not afraid of my presence anymore. You forgive me right? 

You let me lay on your shoulders or lap and play with my hair.

You helped me bond with my brothers.

You talk to me about the stars. 

If you are doing all this for me that means that you love me…?

That would be the conclusion right?

Me and you and Beel in my sweet dreams. I will make that happen, starting now. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(Y/n), I love you and I know that you love me too, right?” Belpheghor confessed to me, with a small blush on his face. He looked adorable. 

“Ha..hhee..” I softly chuckled at the confusion. This was really hilarious. 

“HAHAHA, HAHAH,” He laughed at me when I was struggling for air. 

“What is it Belphi? Did you think I was in love with you?” I questioned him with a smile on my face. 

“I thought..” He couldn't answer, Just like when I couldn’t ask for help. 

“Demons are such idiots or it is only you?’ I asked, mocking him.

“Humans are such foolish, idiotic, weak creatures,”He mocked when I felt betrayed. 

“You tricked me..?” He questioned softly in both parts of shock and despair. 

“Tricked..? I didn't even try,” I laughed at the pathetic demon. 

“You are so stupid, I can’t help but laugh, don’t blame me for TRICKING YOU, “He laughed ,at me, I felt insulted. 

“Thank you for killing me Belphi~, I’ll admit you are a little awkward but have a pure heart, but I don’t like you one bit, I don’t hate you either,” I said as I twirled in amusement, his eyes widened in hope. 

“You are irrelevant to me, lovely belphegor,”I coldly said and he broke. 

A merciful person would kill you for what you have done to me. But I? I’ll mentally ruin you and when you had enough, you will kill yourself

“I’m not your sister, I’m (Y/n), the merciless,  who will ruin your life,”

[paintedstories]

Can we get a part 2 to the joker story😭

->) Here you go little mouse!

synopsis -> After you started dating the Joker, you got captured by the government, but little did they know that it wasn't by accident and that your sweet malefic psychotic lover will come to the "rescue" and run away with you, but of course not without some important information that you've gathered along your exciting journey of being a prisoner.

warning(s) -> Hyun-Jin is portrayed as a psychopath with a warped, sadistic sense of humor.  And the reader is pretty much in love with Hyun-Jins *cough* *cough* Joker's sadistic and toxic side, making her a psychopath too.

" it has been, wait how long has it been?"

"hey, guard! since when I'm stuck here?!" you screamed at the guard from your round cage.

"It has been 1 week y/n.." the guard said while looking at his phone without any intention of looking ta you. but you just shruged it off and continued talking with yoursef

"Well, I have been staying here for 1 week, as mister ANNOYING said."

you said to yourself making sure to scream his nickname loud so he can hear.

the guard didn't even bother to look at you anymore as he was used to your weird antics, he almost felt sorry for how Joker "destroyed" you,

everyone kept saying that he won't rescue you and blah blah blah, but you knew your plan, you knew he loved you.....right?...right! he loved you he told you so after he rescued you from the acid... right?....- well! anyway that's what you remember and you don't care what the other says.

you started humming a random song just to annoy the guard as you knew he most probably was reading on the phone.

oh, how much time has passed since you read or studied! woah it has been so good since you choose Joker over everything else,

you have a caring boyfriend that would do anything for you...most probably.

while humming you looked at the guard with a smirk and foxy eyes seeing how irritated he is becoming,

wanting to annoy him even more you started playing with the big rope that was in the centre placed for you to dance on as per requested. you were still shocked at how they let you have the rope but it was still fun.

I mean you were the lover of the one and only Joker, and they won't let you stay in those ugly and disgusting cells with other poor criminals that actually got caught,

not let themselves be caught like you did.

you kept on swinging around the cage annoying him even more, laughing hysterically and singing aloud.

"okay, what do you want slut!?!" the guard screamed angrily at you and you only smirked.

"well, sweet boy, heh I only want to know where is the key to the self. where is it kept"

At the end of the sentence,

your eyes widened like crazy while smiling creepily at him, getting excited by the thought of him actually telling and making you know so when your precious Joker will come he will spoil you for doing good.

"I'm not telling you, just shut up slut" the guard said making you smile even brighter while throwing yourself on the dancing rope they gave you, coughing yourself at the limit making a little teather.

he looked at you with anger in his eyes making you shudder with anticipation of how happy Joker will be when you tells him everything this guard tried to do to you and when he will make him suffer,

only for her, for his lover, for his one and only.

you then jumped on the cage bars scaring him and making him fall off his chair. "tell me!" you screamed while having on an expression that could trigger anyone.

he came closer to the gate and went to whisper "No..-" You got annoyed and grabbed him by his collar and dragged his face to be smushed by the gates

"I swear to whatever god there is, I will kill you if you do not tell me"

you whispered annoyed with a growl in his ear

"fine fine, it's the principle of this prison's necklace"

you slapped his cheek and punched his stomach with your leg.

"good boy, was that so hard, hmm?"

you smirked while sitting down and singing happily, now all you have to do is wait for your bubs.

"ugh shut up already," the guard said with venom in his voice

"give me more information and I will"

he didn't say anything just sat on his phone and you went to sleep on your bed hoping your Joker will come after you.

you were woken up by the loud sound of a bomb and loud maniacal laughter. there he was, your Hyunjinnie !!! you rapidly sat up and dragged your bed in a point where the bomb from the opening door wont have a big damage and hid behind it.

when the bomb exploded you went from behind the bed and saw your lover.

You went next to him and told him where they key is, he kissed your forehead and went to get it, but he was stopped by the guard.

"Hey! where are you going, in the name of law you are arrested Joker!"

Hyun-Jin chuckled and went to him, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him on the wall. Then turned to you and extended his arm out for you to take. When your palm touched him your feet were long gone from the floor as he was holding himself and you with one hand by a rope attached to the small helicopter your friend drove.

when you both were resting, Hyun-jin put his hands on your waist and he started cuddling to you, surprising you of his clinginess.

"were did you say was the key, little mouse?" he asked tilting his head to look at you

"it's the boss necklace of the prison I was locked in" he kissed your cheeck

"good job baby, I will treat you nicely when we get home" he winked at you, making you shudder, knowing what will happen.

[samthecookielord]

(Intro) - (Previous) - (Next)

Lukas: Reuben? Reuben, come here, boy! 

The pig’s expression seems to shift to… excitement? It runs towards you, squealing happily.

As it draws near, everyone jumps back. The pig has two heads, which is definitely more than Reuben had. Probably.

Lukas: Uh, maybe that’s not Reuben, actually!  Axel: If anything, it’s a two-ben. Get it? Olivia: I’d smack you for that pun if I wasn’t freaked out! Axel: Well it's what I do when I'm freaked out!

(next poll under cut)

Two-ben circles around you a little bit, then jumps and squeals. It’s clearly trying to communicate with you. Of course, none of you are quite as in tune with pigs as Jesse is, so it’s not an easy task. You eventually deduce that it intends on leading you down the most efficient path to Jesse. You follow it, and it eventually stops. You can then look at more memories on the wall before continuing.

[Game pulls from previous save again, some are choices that you didn’t actually make]

These memories are even less severe; minor slip ups, light snarking, forgetting something someone wanted them to do.

? Even the little things.

Some are blurry, and you note that you’ve never heard of those things even happening. Regardless, you continue to place torches along the walls. Radar seems nervous.

You continue through. The memories you see here really throw your whole team for a loop. You see Jesse be killed by zombies. You see them doomed to fall by mobs. You see them burnt to a crisp whilst trying to fight shulkers.

This definitely didn’t happen, right? You were there. You’d remember if Jesse died, so what are all these about?

? ADMIN remembered that.

For each memory you’re required to look at, you obtain an item. You receive a redstone torch, TNT, a gold sword, a feather, and an awkward potion.

You follow Twoben. It seems like you’re close. The room is empty again, and the air feels wrong. Now you’re all prepared for this. Your vision fades.

You find yourself in a dimly lit room, with walls of cold stone bricks and quartz. In front of you is a contraption, menacingly towering. In front of you is iron bars, blocking the way. In front of you is an iron block, – Radar. In front of you is Radar, head stuck inside the iron block, hands desperately clawing at his own iron prison.

Stop it stop it please stop – let him go!

Stop

Everything blurs.

The room is brighter.

Taller too.

But not much brighter.

The air is suffocating.

He’s suffocating.

Oh my god oh my god what did I just do!? Get him out of there, you idiot! Quick! Now! Get rid of the barrier! Break it! Delete it! Now! Just focus! How could I do this to him again!? Radar, just hang on! I’m sorry! Focus, you stupid brain! Just do whatever you did before but backwards or something! Why did you do this!? This is the worst way to die! Get him out!

Come on! You can do anything in the world! Just focus! Just focus!

Why isn’t this working!? Why can’t I control it!? He doesn’t deserve this! Not for a second! How could you do this!? He’s running out of time!

“Radar…”

You need to fix this, now!

You, Jesse, begin a desperate search. Tears constantly blur your vision. Your head is killing you, and your chest is tired, but you can’t give up. You can’t. You won’t. Not until you fix your mistakes, if anything can be fixed with him ever again. Your whole body should be aching now, but it’s distant, muted. Everything it would normally be longing for-- sleep, food, water, is barely even a suggestion. Of course. You’re not human anymore.

? ADMIN never forgot that.

...

...

...

[millersdjarin]

Some Invisible String

Chapter IV: When You're Young, You Just Run

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 4.2k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst

Chapter III

Series Masterlist

notes: second to last chapter ahhh! thank u for reading and enjoying this fic with me, you're all just great humans!

Joel takes me up a nearby hill outside of the town’s walls, through old trails, over fallen trees and across the crunchy snow. I wrap my arms around him, pressing the side of my face into the back of his jacket, and I tell myself that it’s to shelter my face from the oncoming icy wind. 

The view up here is incredible, stretching across the entire town and all the way to the hydro-plant beyond. Mountains surround us, covered in white, with light grey clouds hanging low over them and blue skies higher up. I can see birds of prey soaring up above us; could probably hear them if I listened closely enough. Despite the wind and the gentle crunch of Felix’s hooves on the snow, it’s so silent out here. 

These days, silence isn’t necessarily the same thing as safe, but Joel tells me that this is one of his regular patrol routes, and he knows it well. If anything’s hiding somewhere, he knows where they’ll be. 

So I just enjoy it. 

Eventually we find our way to a building that looks half-snowed under. It’s not entirely covered, though; it’s a lookout post, probably used for fire watch way back when. A decent size, but only a square, the windows are mostly boarded up, except for one on each wall. Joel unlocks the door and the five padlocks that hold it shut. Before leading Felix inside, he helps me down, holding my weight until I’m stable. 

Once we’re all in, and Felix is munching happily on the net of hay that’s already strung up in here, I take a moment to look around. There’s a hunting rifle propped up in the corner, along with some ammunition, and a bow sitting next to it with a few arrows strewn across the floor. A wicker bench, like something from a garden furniture set, is in front of one of the windows, complete with a pillow and a blanket. In the other corner there’s a fold-up chair beside a locked case, presumably full of more supplies.

“We keep it stocked for an emergency,” Joel explains, leading me over to the bench. I can manage without my crutches now, but the cold makes it harder, so he supports me around my waist until I’m sitting down. “People’ve got stuck here in blizzards before.” 

“Thought you said this place was safe?” I joke. 

He chuckles and grabs the blanket, wrapping it carefully around my shoulders. “It is. I promise. Here, put your leg up.” He gestures for me to turn in my place, taking a gentle hold of my ankle. Following his guidance, I lift up my leg and grimace at the discomfort. It feels better for having it up, though. 

“Warm enough?” Joel asks. 

“For now,” I say. “Depends how long you keep me here.” 

“You make it sound like I’m holding you prisoner,” he pulls across the fold-out chair, takes off his backpack before sitting down opposite me. 

“I mean, I can’t exactly leave on my own right now,” I smirk, gesturing to my leg. 

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out his canteen. “How’s it feeling?” 

“Better. A lot better.” 

“Amazing what a little rest can do, huh?” 

“Yeah. You’d know.”

He looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. “Really, with the sarcasm?” 

“We all know you don’t know how to just stop and rest,” I say. “Don’t think I’ve seen you chill out since…well, ever.” 

He holds up his flask like it’s proving a point, and gestures to the room around him. “What does it look like I’m doin’ now?” 

The light from the windows surrounds us, casting shadows over his face. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, his lips just a little blue. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts enough to respond, but before I can, he reaches into his pack and pulls out two…whisky glasses? 

When he opens his flask and pours it, I expect to see water. But, nope. A golden amber liquid flows out into the glasses, and the smell hits me in an instant. 

Yup, that’s whisky alright. 

“Joel,” I gasp teasingly, “are you usually such a rebel on patrol?” 

Grinning lopsidedly, he hands me one of the glasses. “This ain’t a patrol,” he says. I take it from him, and our fingers brush together for a second. “And it’s good for warmth.” 

“Ah. And here I thought you were finally going to chill out.” 

“Alright, alright,” he shakes his head and uses his own glass to gesture to mine. “Drink.” 

“What are we drinking to?” 

He doesn’t answer. He looks up and takes a good sip, smacking his lips after he’s swallowed. I watch the movement in his throat; his Adam’s apple bobbing down then up again. His eyes follow the glass as he lowers it again. 

I wait for him to speak. Nervous, I lift my own glass to my lips and take a sip. It’s good. The best I’ve had in years, actually. The warmth goes all the way down my throat and to my insides, spreading through me in an instant. It makes me shiver in the best way. “Damn,” I say into the quiet. “That’s good shit. Strong, though.” 

Joel nods in agreement. “Best in my collection.” 

“Collection, huh? You’re living it up here in Jackson.”

“Sure am,” he smiles, wry. Tips his glass at me, then takes another sip. A small moment of quiet passes. “What brought you to Wyoming?” He asks then, surprising me. “Were you comin’ to Jackson?” 

“No,” I almost laugh. “How would I have known about it? And besides, if I’d known there were so many people here I’d have stayed well away.” 

“People find us in all sorts of ways. You’d be surprised how fast news travels.” 

I shrug a shoulder and take another drink. 

“So where’d you go?” He asks. Then, as if he wanted to word it differently, “I mean—where’ve you been? Since you…since we parted ways?”

“Here and there. I wanted to go South for the winter, but my plans went South instead, I guess.” 

“You were alone when we found you,” he says, glancing up at me. “Have there been…any other groups since the old days? Friends…partners?” 

I shake my head. For a moment, my thoughts are too bleak to say anything. I think of what it was like to be a hunter. It was hell. Carnage every day and night. Tommy and I used to talk of leaving; Joel was always reluctant, saying that we were safer staying put. He was probably right—that is, if my feelings hadn’t gotten in the way. 

After that, it seemed better to be alone. 

“No,” I answer eventually, staring solemnly down at my nearly-empty drink. It’s giving my head a nice buzz. A little burn in the back of my throat. If I really let myself, I could believe that we're in a cabin in the mountains during normal life, on vacation, sitting and enjoying a drink on the stoop before heading to bed. 

“You…you’ve been alone this whole time?” 

“Yeah,” I sigh. 

He’s surprised into silence, it seems. 

I glance up at him and catch him staring. He looks away straight away, but I see something on his face. Something sad. A slight crease in his brow, his mouth open a little like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing; like what he’s hearing devastates him. 

“Jesus Christ,” he curses eventually, just a breath. Staring at nothing, he shakes his head. “You survived on your own all this time.…”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t have survived this,” I motion to my leg, “if I’d been alone last week. But other than that…yeah. Just me. Sometimes it’s easier like that. Easier to slip past people unnoticed.” 

He still looks upset. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it again. I want him to look at me so badly that it hurts. I want him to turn to me and let the morning sunlight shine on his face and make all the coldness around me fade away. 

I never thought I’d see him again. I thought I was dying, I thought I was hearing things when his voice came to me. 

“Joel…” I start, finding a lump in my throat I hadn’t noticed before.

“You didn’t have to leave,” he says before I can say any more. Finally, he looks at me, and there is so much sadness and regret in his eyes that it actually hurts. “You hear me?” He asks. “You never had to leave. Back then. You could’ve stayed.” 

“Joel…I already told you, I couldn’t let myself…” 

He sighs. Looks away again, down at his glass, shaking his head over and over so much that he must be getting dizzy. 

“Joel,” I say again. It feels like the only thing I can say that makes sense. “You don’t…we don’t have to talk about this…” 

“Yes, we do.” 

“…Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I need you to hear me,” he says. Then his eyes meet mine, and it’s different. More intense, purposeful. I couldn’t look away even if I tried—even if I wanted to. “You didn’t have to leave. You told me why you left, and I’m telling you, it wasn’t…you didn’t need to.” 

I shake my head. “I did,” my voice comes out as nothing but a whisper. “I did, Joel. I couldn’t—I couldn’t keep how I felt to myself, I couldn’t keep it in check…” 

“Goddamit, you’re not—you didn’t have to keep it in check!” He raises his voice just slightly. “I’m trying to tell you that I…I had those feelings, too. Okay? It—it wasn’t just you.” 

Oh. 

I freeze. 

Oh. 

“…Oh,” because suddenly the racing chaos of my mind is silenced to just that one syllable. 

He holds my eyes for another long, piercing moment, then looks away. Briefly he seems to consider something, his jaw working away as he thinks, and then he puts his glass on the floor and runs a hand over his hair. Jesus. The silver flecks in it are shining in the sunlight.

“I get why you thought you had to leave,” he says, quiet again. “I do. And honestly, I’m not sure I could say I wouldn’t’ve done the same thing if I were you. But I…if you’d just told me back then, if I’d known…” 

Somehow, I manage to swallow the emotion in my throat enough to say, “Would it have made a difference?” 

“It would have made every difference.” He says, with a tone that says Are you kidding me? 

“Oh,” again. Dumbly. “But…it’s not like we could’ve…we could never have been…” I know what I’m trying to say, but it won’t come out. How do I express that I just never saw a way for a relationship to work? That I never saw how we could possibly fall in love and be together and act like everything was normal, like there wasn’t enough blood on our hands to fill a bathtub? 

I close my mouth and regroup for a second. Or, try to. 

“I just,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I’d expected, “I thought I was protecting you.” 

Resting his elbow on his knee, he runs his hand over his mouth, rubs it across his beard. He does it a few times as he stares ahead at nothing again, deep in thought. 

I watch him, silent. Waiting. 

Then, he takes a breath. “Do you still feel that way now?” He drags his eyes to me, and holds them. 

I swallow heavily. Wide-eyed, I stare at him. “I…” yes. Of fucking course I do, Joel. I loved you then, and I love you now. I will always fucking love you. “Yeah,” I admit. I can’t lie to him, and really, there’s no point now, anyway. “I do. I never stopped.” 

For so long, he just stares at me. Nervous, I fiddle with the fabric of my gloves, pulling at loose threads, unsure how much damage I’m causing to them because I can’t fucking tear my eyes away from Joel’s, despite the fact his gaze is making me lose my mind. I decide to take the gloves off, suddenly feeling closed-in by them.

I keep trying to speak, to fill the silence somehow, to try and mend a wound that I’m not sure is even still open anymore. It feels like it’s closed: the chasm of questions and pain between us is different now. Lighter. Like how Joel looks lighter these days, without the weight of the world on his shoulders, that’s how it feels in the air between us. 

When he speaks again, I’m not expecting it, despite the fact I’ve been waiting with bated breath. “I missed you,” he says. 

Oh, God.

“I missed you so goddam much, you know that?” His eyes flick to the space on the bench beside me. Without thinking I shift my leg, moving it off so there’s space for him if he wants. 

“I missed you,” I say, my voice cracking a little from the truth of it. The gut wrenching, undeniable truth in just those three words. “Joel, I…” As I’m shaking my head, lost for words that better convey what I’m trying to say, Joel gets up and comes to sit beside me. I turn to face him, finding the backs of my eyes stinging with tears. 

(I swallow them down so hard that it hurts. I’ve cried enough. I’ve cried enough over him.) 

“Hey…” he says, dipping his head to catch my eyes that have somehow fallen from his. He puts his finger under my chin, holding it up and propping his thumb on the point. He took his gloves off when he came inside, so his bare skin is against mine, his fingertips cold and calloused but fuck, so perfect. Catching my gaze again, he looks so deeply into my eyes that it’s like he’s searching my fucking soul. “Don’t look away,” he says. 

I shake my head. My hands are trembling in my lap. Heat is blooming from my stomach to my chest, threatening to burst out of me at any moment because fucking fuck, I never thought Joel would touch me like this. Holding me tenderly, not because he’s patching a wound or inspecting one, not to get me to look in his eyes to stop me from passing out from pain; no, holding me because he wants to, because he wants to be close to me, wants to feel me like I want to feel him. 

At least, I hope that’s what he wants.

The way his eyes flick down to my lips gives me a little more confidence. 

“Joel…” I whisper into the inches of empty space between us. I can feel his hot breath brushing against my face. “Joel, you don’t have to…you don’t have to forgive me, you know that, right?” 

Surprising me, he laughs. Shakes his head a little, smiling at me with crow’s feet around his eyes, the sunlight glinting into the flecks of grey in his beard. Could I reach out and do what I’ve always wanted to? Touch him there, run my hands through the coarse hairs, maybe even feel them on my face? 

“I know I don’t have to,” he says, still chuckling. “But I do. Even though I wish you’d have made a different call, or at least told me you were leavin’…” 

“Joel…” 

“—I’d say we got pretty lucky, findin’ ourselves here again.” 

He’s so close to me now that I have to look between each of his eyes in turn. I could do it forever. He’s so close. I’ve wanted this for so long. 

I never thought I’d see him again. 

Let alone have this. 

“Yeah,” I manage to whisper. “Yeah, I’d say so.” 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” he shifts his hand from under my chin to my cheek, pressing his palm against my jaw and smoothing his thumb over my skin, “I’d like to do what I’ve wanted to do for a damn long time.” 

I nod before he even clarifies. I’d let him do anything. Fucking anything. 

He sighs before closing the distance between us, like he’s relieved. Like he’s saying, Finally. 

My agreement doesn’t make it out of my lips because he’s pressing his to mine, capturing my top one between both of his, and—

Holy shit. 

It’s the softest kiss I’ve ever had. 

So tender. Like he’s just testing the waters. Asking me a question. He barely even lingers for a few seconds. 

But, Jesus Christ. 

I find myself letting out an embarrassing whine when he pulls away and tries to meet my eyes, his eyebrows raising, checking it’s okay; but I can’t wait, I can’t fucking wait or hold back any longer—

I pull him in by the lapels of his coat and push my lips back into his, barely even having time to open my mouth. He groans against me and I feel the vibrations of his voice in my fucking mouth. 

It’s crazed at first, finding a rhythm; messy and uncoordinated but all I can hear is his lips sucking at mine and him trying to find his breath amongst the mess of our mouths. It doesn’t take long for it to flow, to work, to understand the push and pull of each other and I lean into it with everything I have. He’s breathing into my mouth, his breath hot and sweet, and his lips have gone from cold to hot in the blink of an eye. 

He’s got two hands on me now, grasping at the back of my neck with his fingers pushing up into my hair from the roots. My hat slips from my head. He uses the extra space in an instant, gasping happily against my mouth when he can get his fingers up the entirety of the back of my head, threading them into my hair. Goosebumps spread across my skin, and not from the cold.

At last, my hands are where they’ve always dreamed of being. On either side of his face, fingers running through his beard. I can hear it; the hairs brushing across my skin and under my nails. Lightly, I curl my fingers so my nails scratch his jaw. He likes it; moaning softly as he tilts his head to the other side, barely pulling off of me before our mouths are together again. 

Alas, though, as much as my hands have found their home, there is so much more of him to discover. One of them slides back into his hair and I swear to God he fucking whispers my name against my tongue as I take a handful and tug. 

Soon I’m shrugging him out of his jacket after pulling on the zip, and he’s doing the same, undoing each of the buttons on my coat while I suck kisses to his cheek, his beard, wherever I can get to him. 

As soon as our coats are on the floor, he unwinds my scarf and throws it on the floor, and makes the most of having new access to my neck. Hungry, he dives in, his mouth already open as he mouths at the expanse of my neck in long—but not long enough—kisses. 

“Joel, oh, my God,” I gasp when he sucks particularly hard on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. My hands are in his hair again, anchoring him to me. A bolt of pleasure comes from my neck to my brain, goes straight between my legs. 

It’s as he kisses me again and I start to fumble with the buttons on his flannel that he makes a different noise in the back of his throat. A soft protest, I think. 

“Hey,” he pants, breaking off from my lips and taking a gentle hold of my wrists, stopping them in their work. 

I’m completely out of breath. I’ve not been this out of breath from something good in fuck knows how long. My lips are swollen, I’m sure they’re bright red, and I can feel wet patches on my neck. “You okay?” I ask with my hands settling on his chest. 

He laughs, breathy, “Never better. I just…want to make sure that we…” he has to swallow and catch his breath for a moment. As he does so, he lowers his head and kisses up my forearm, all the way to my elbow. His hands caress the underside of my arm like it’s something he treasures. “God, I want this to go further, but I said we’d be back in an hour and I know Ellie’ll come lookin’ if we’re not…” 

Still panting, I laugh a little. All I can do is press my forehead against his. 

He lifts up my hand and puts it over his heart. Even through the flannel of his shirt I can feel it pounding. A gasp pulls into my throat at the feeling. 

“Besides, it’s cold as hell, and I’d really like you to be warm and comfortable before we…” 

He’s right. Goddamit, he’s right. 

Resigned, I nod. We sit like that for a minute, just coming down, catching our breath. His lips are pinker than I think I’ve ever seen them. I think I was sucking at them even more than I thought I was; the pink colour fades gradually into his skin like smudged lipstick. I wish now that I’d had chance to suck at his neck, to mark him like I’m sure he’s marked me already. 

Then, it hits me. 

That I never even thought I’d get to touch his fucking beard. 

Let alone suck his neck.

“God,” I whisper, mostly to myself. My voice cracks a little, and I’m not sure it’s just from the blinding desire still throbbing between my legs.

“You okay?” 

“I just…yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m really fucking good.” 

He laughs. Keeping one hand over mine where it stays on his chest, he brings the other up to cup the side of my face. Our foreheads are still resting on each other and his palm is so warm against my cheek. 

I’ve wanted this for so long. 

I have to tell him. He knows, but I have to tell him. “I’ve wanted this for…forever,” I confess, probably only finding my confidence because we’re too close for him to look at me. With my spare hand I hold the side of his neck, the tips of my fingers brushing into his beard. 

“Since the moment I saw you,” Joel’s voice is gravelly as he nuzzles his nose into my wrist, “I wanted this.” 

I can’t help it. 

I lean in and kiss him again. Close-mouthed and quick, but just because I can. 

He takes a deep breath. Holds it a minute, then lets it out, his sweet breath brushing against me once more. I want to taste it again. Feel it going into my lungs. Feel it on my neck, on every inch of me. 

“We should head back,” he says, reluctance coming from his very core. “You’re gettin’ cold.” He squeezes my cold hand. 

“You’re the one who took off all my winter gear,” I retort with a happy smirk. 

“Yeah, alright. You started it, though.” 

“Um, you pushed my hat off as soon as we got started…” 

“The hat thing was a mistake.” 

I remember how it felt to have his hands spread out over every inch of my head, and shudder. “Oh, no, it was no mistake, Joel.” 

He laughs. “Come on. Let’s wrap back up. I’d love to say we can pick up where we left off as soon as we get back, but I’ve got patrols today, and Ellie wanted me to take her riding…” 

I hold the back of his neck. As much as I absolutely would let him take me right here on this freezing wooden floor, I don’t mind waiting. For the first time in decades, I feel like we might just have time for it. Like everything doesn’t have to be a rush. “It’s alright,” I say, meaning it. 

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Mm. I’ll hold you to that.” 

“Good.” 

After another—very restrained—kiss, we start wrapping up again and pack up to head back. In the back of my mind as we potter around each other, I feel the horrible tendrils of doubt try to creep in around me. Wondering: what if this is all too good to be true? What if there’s no way we can make this work? I was never even going to stay here, but does he want me to now? Is that where this is going?

But then Joel takes me in his arms before we step back outside, and holds me like it’s the first time. 

And it is, really. He’s only ever done this before when I’ve been hurt or sick. 

And for that moment as his hands press into my back, my mind is quiet.

{chapter 4/5}

notes: thank u for all the support and love on this fic, it means the world to me, i'm so glad you're enjoying it! there's more where this came from and i'm just so grateful to y'all for reading this <3 ps: the next chapter will have smut (YAY)! also, if you're reading this the weekend i post it (21st jan 2023) then please send me smut requests for joel miller or din djarin <3 love u xo

taglist: @rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason

[lokidokieokie]

Captive Hearts

Summary: Loki and the reader, who have always been enemies, are captured by Hydra and must work together to escape.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Reader

Warning(s): mentions of being held captive, mentions of escaping imprisonment, love declarations, lemme know if I missed anything

Loki glared at you, his eyes full of hatred and contempt. He couldn’t believe that he was stuck in this godforsaken cell with you, of all people.

“This is your fault,” Loki spat out. “If it wasn’t for your foolish heroics, we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

You glared back, your own hatred and contempt just as strong. You couldn’t believe that you were stuck with Loki, the man who had caused so much destruction and chaos.

“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me,” you snarled. “You’re the one who brought us here, with your ego and your delusions of grandeur.”

The two of you had been captured by some enemies, and you had been thrown into this cell together, with no way out. Loki had tried to escape using his powers, but they had been nullified by the special prison cells. And you had tried to pick the lock, but it had been too advanced for your skills.

As the days turned into weeks, the tension between you and Loki only grew stronger. You couldn’t stand each other, and you constantly bickered and fought over everything. 

“I can’t believe I’m stuck here with you,” Loki said, pacing back and forth. “You’re the most annoying, stubborn, and irritating person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re the most self-centred, arrogant, and insufferable person I’ve ever met. How are we supposed to survive in here with you?”

As the weeks turned into months, something changed between the two of you. You and Loki began to see each other in a different light. You realised that you both had been victims of circumstances, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“I never wanted this,” Loki said, his voice laced with pain. “I never wanted to be a pawn in someone else’s game. I was just trying to find my place in the world, to be someone I was proud of... to be worthy.”

You looked at Loki, your own pain and longing reflected in his eyes. “I know how you feel,” you said. “I’ve always felt like I was on the outside, like I didn’t belong anywhere. I was just trying to make a difference... to prove to everyone that I was worthy...”

You both began to see each other as people, as beings with their own fears and desires. You began to understand each other’s motivations, and you began to see that you were more alike than you had both realised. 

“Maybe we’re not so different, after all,” Loki said, a hint of hope in his voice. “Maybe we can find a way to work together, to get out of here.”

You looked a Loki, considering his words. You knew that he was right, that you needed to put aside your differences and focus on your common goal.

As you worked together to escape from the cell, you realised that you had both fought a common enemy. You realised that you were stronger together, and that you possibly...even needed each other to survive. 

You used your combined skills and strengths to pick the lock, to take down the guards, and to escape from whatever compound you were located in. And as you both finally emerged into the daylight, Loki and you knew that you had made it. You hopefully knew that you both had found your happily ever afters.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Loki said, a hint of amazement in his voice. “I never thought I could trust anyone, let alone work with them. But you proved me wrong, Y/n.”

You smiled at Loki, your own amazement at what occurred just as strong. “I never thought I could forgive you for everything that you’ve done, let alone begin to love you,” you said. “But you proved me wrong, Loki. You showed me that there’s more to you than what I originally thought--that there is more to you than your actions in the past. That there’s a person underneath all that pent-up aggression and sass. And that person is someone who I’ve come to love.”

Loki’s eyes filled with love and gratitude as he looked at you. “I love you too, Y/n. I never thought I could love anyone... that anyone would ever love me. But you showed me that it’s possible. You showed me that I’m worthy of something--worthy of your love.”

Your heart swelled with love and happiness as you looked at Loki. You knew that you had finally found the person you had been looking for, the person who accepted and loved you for who you were. 

As you both shared a passionate kiss, you knew that you had definitely found your happily ever after. You knew that you would always be there for each other, no matter what the world threw your way. 

A/N I hope you enjoyed! 

[the-fiction-witch]

Can I

Media - Star Wars The Force Awakens Character - Petty Officer Thanisson Couple - Thanisson X Reader Reader - First Order Prisoner Being Transported Rating Smuttish Word Count 686

I sat inside my cell bored out of my mind, nothing but a bed built into the wall and a table by the door, I sat on the bed lazily in this scratchy red prisoner jumpsuit they supplied me with even if I had undone it and pushed it away as much as I could. I was being transported on the finalizer to Xmexa the prison planet in sector nine. They had always threatened me but I didn't think they really would... Until I... stole a blaster and tried to escape from the cells on the Tansmin docks. 

The outer door opened and I wondered some first-order boy, He came through with a tray unlocking the electrified second door and heading in.

"Dinner. Prisoner 897."

"Thank you," I sighed, "You're not the usual one?"

"Humm? Ohh! A bunch of the troopers have reinforcement training." He says as he sets the tray on the table. "I'm a petty officer usually,"

"I see," I nodded, 

He nodded and I noticed he was lingering, not sure why and then I noticed his eye line. He stood his eyes staring at my breasts where my jumpsuit was unzipped and pulled down, revealing my cleavage, 

"Hey! My eyes are up here petty boy."

"Sorry!" He jumped looking away blushing, "Sorry I uhh..."

"What?"

"It uhhh I've been on the finalizer for two rounds now... kinda been a while since I uhh... you know." 

"Really?"

"Yeah... sorry again."

"It's fine." 

"what-"

"It's fine. I don't care." I sighed, "Look all you want,"

"Really!"

"Yeah," I shrug, "You've been on here a while and I'm bored out of my mind so go ahead." 

"...You really don't mind?" He sheepishly stepped closer, 

"Nope, Look all you like."

".... I ughh... thank you," He blushed quickly he knelt on the floor of my cell beside my bed and stared longingly at me and my body, I laughed and just let him clearly he was happy. I even spotted him drooling, "Can uhhhhhhh can I uhhhh I know its uhh-"

"You wanna touch them?"

"...Yes please,"

"Go on," I rolled my eyes,

"Thank you!" he happily jumped forward his hands grabbed my jumpsuit and he began to grope and fondle my breasts, "Uhh... Uuuuughhhh... Ohh fuck-"

"Really?" I chuckled, 

"I have been stuck on this ship for two rounds of duty that's six cycles. and I share quarters with five other guys." He complained, "Please.... uhhh just let me have this," 

"Alright you have fun," I laughed, 

"Could I uhhhh... could I take your jumpsuit off?"

"You can go on,"

"Thank you!" He smiled almost ripping open my jumpsuit to expose my bare breasts by how he was really drooling and breathing hard as he grabbed my breasts fondling them and groping them in his hands, I couldn't help but chuckle it was kinda adorable seeing him so needy, his hips even slightly bucking the more he groped, "can I uhhh can I please..."

"Yes?"

"... it's a long shot... but I am...Begging you... Please... can I..."

"whatever it is you can do it,"

"Really?"

"sure go on,"

"Ummmm!" He groaned as he moved and kissed my sternum keeping his head between my breasts as he fondled and groped all but motorboating me, it tickled so I laughed and petted his blonde hair, 

"Whoa! You really are desperate aren't you?"

"Ummm mhm...." He groaned between kisses and gropes,

I chuckled and moved him away a moment making him whine but I moved my hand to my jumpsuit zip and pushed it as far down as I could pealing it off me and opening my legs, "You think you can last long enough for me too?" I asked him

he started with wide eyes and gulped, "Uhhhh... no." He said, "But I by god I will try!"

"You think you could... be my usual guard from now on? dropping off my food and such it would certainly keep us entertained for the rest of the trip to Xmexa"

"It would... Okay! deal!" He smiled climbing onto my bed to kiss me but he pulled back, "ohh uhh I uhh I don't know your name..."

"Y/n,"

"Hi,"

"Hi, and you are?"

"Ohh right.. Thanisson,"

"Pleasure so... shall we?" I rubbed my nose on his,

"Ohhh god yes!" He groans pulling me back to kiss him.