#i know the idea isn't knew but as i thought about it i knew i had to draw it

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #12

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Everyone should be delighted to know me."

"Tick tock, the clock is ticking."

"What a fantastic idea!"

"Not going to destroy the world or anything."

"You're awful at solving riddles."

"That was a poor decision."

"Do you really think you can handle the truth?"

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"This isn't the end, it's just the beginning."

"You promised you'd never leave."

"There's more to this story than you know."

"I'm not the hero you think I am."

"Sometimes, doing the right thing means making tough choices."

"If you walk away now, don't bother coming back."

"I've kept this secret for far too long."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"They'll never believe us, but we have to try."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"No one else knows, and it has to stay that way."

"Do you trust me?"

"We can't let them win."

"You have no idea what you're getting into."

"This changes everything."

"I thought I knew you."

"I've waited my whole life for this moment."

"You were the last person I expected to see."

"Why does it always have to be you?"

"We're running out of time."

"Do you think they suspect anything?"

"I've made up my mind."

"This isn't what I signed up for."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We can't afford any mistakes."

"You can't keep running away from your past."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Sometimes, the hardest thing is to let go."

"You know this isn't right."

"What are you hiding from me?"

"We have to stick together."

"I'm not giving up on you."

"There's no turning back now."

"I never wanted any of this."

"What if we don't have a choice?"

"It's time to face the music."

"You have to trust your instincts."

"Everything we've worked for is at stake."

"I didn't expect you to understand."

"This is our only shot."

"I'm not interested anymore."

"You owe me an explanation."

"We can't do this alone."

"I thought you were on my side."

"This is bigger than both of us."

"What do you have to lose?"

"I can't pretend anymore."

"You're not as invisible as you think."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You're the only one who can help."

"We need to be careful."

"Are you with me?"

"No, this is enough."

"I don't think I can do this."

"Ok, so sue me."

"What a fine young man."

"This isn't about you."

"I know what I have to do."

"We need to find a way out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not as simple as it seems."

"I can't believe it's come to this."

"This isn't over yet."

"What's the plan?"

"Take me to court."

"There's no easy answer."

Drabble Masterlist

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[miange1]

HYUN-JU

male reader, reader is a college student, talks of dysphoria, hyun-ju's past, reader doesn't know hyun ju's trans, pining/being smitten, death, crying, scuicidal thoughts, im in love with this woman.

note: i am not trans, im a cis dude. if i ever get something wrong or offensive and you're trans just let me know and i'll fix it. Also I saw something where someone said gyeong-seok probably just thought hyun ju was a cis woman who had a really deep voice and i thought it was funny.

You had been lucky to pass the first game. You were scared out of your mind, and the small group you made from the first few games had died. It was terrible, you had no one. It's surprising how despite everyone being in the same situation— you found no more comfort.

But there was this girl you had seen. She had shoulder length hair, and earrings that truly just suit her. She was really pretty, you wanted to talk to her yet she was always with her own group.

Yet this time, she wasn't. She was just by herself for a moment, was she thinking to herself? Maybe you should talk to her? No, that's a bad idea. Okay, but what else was there to do? You might die without talking to the woman of your dreams.

Mustering up the little courage you had, you went over to her. Hands sweaty the closer you got to her. You wiped it on your slightly blood stained uniform, feeling even more icky realizing you were bloody.

Getting closer to her, you sat on a mattress. Shit, what now? You cleared your throat, "H..hi." you felt like you were back in highschool. Mouth dry as if you were talking to your fist crush. She looked over to you, a small smile on her curious face. "Hi."

She spoke to you, holy crap she spoke to you.

"How uh— how are you?" You stuttered.

But before she could answer you shook your head, blurting for her not to answer that stupid question. Jesus your face was burning up, felt like you had a fever.

"I'm sorry," You were able to get that out. "This is dumb, I just thought you were really pretty and.." She hadn't broken eye contact with you, but you could barely look at her. "In a situation like this it's pretty weird to say something like that to someone isn't it?"

"You think I'm pretty?"

You shut your mouth, looking at her oddly. "Yeah..of course i do. Do you not think so?" She scoffed, thinking you were joking. She had just gotten called beautiful by young-mi, and she believed it she truly did. But hearing it from someone she barely knew? Made her feel like crying again.

"I have been called a lot of things, yet not pretty. I only expected to be called pretty after my transition." That was where you made another face more confused than before. "Transition?" Your voice spoke with genuine confusion.

She raised her eyebrow at you, then rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you can tell." You really couldn't. There was nothing you had against transgender people at all, but it doesn't change the fact you couldn't tell.

"I really wasn't aware, was that offensive to you?" She stared at you for a moment, bursting out laughing after a while and earning some stares. "My voice? Even hearing me, you weren't aware?" You shook your head and shrugged.

"I just thought you had a naturally deep voice." Oh you were making her feel so much better, even if you didn't know it. She couldn't stop laughing, grabbing onto your shoulder as a touch of affection. It made you smile and laugh with her, your own hand touching hers to reciprocate.

The two of you had deeper talks over time until the next game. She told you what you guessed she told the others, about her plan on what to do with the money, how she had others distance themselves from her when she told them she felt like a woman. It made you feel bad, but you were happy she was telling you this because it felt like you had known each other for so long.

You wished it lasted longer

—

"Six." The moment it was spoke, you had been pulled by hyun ju. It was a habit she was making, always grabbing you the moment the she heard the number. But this time, she made a mistake. She realized last minute young-mi was too behind.

She panicked, no one else seemed to have room and it was a moment of time before she absolutely had to close the door.

Hyun ju's grip stayed on you, it seemed to get tighter the more stressed she got. Young mi was just a kid, she deserved to live on.

"10, 9, 8,"

You only had so much time to decide. You yanked yourself from hyun ju's grip, and she instantly gave you a look as if you were stupid. "What are you doing?" She wanted to save you both, but you knew that wasn't possible.

You didn't speak, only letting your lips touch hers quickly, yet you stayed as long as you could. Even in death you would always remember her lips, they trembled against yours, confused, yet wanting and needing more. You let yourself run out, pushing the girl inside. "1."

It was done, and there was nothing that could be done. You heard the yell of her voice, panicking and shaking the door trying to get it to open. "No, no, unlock the door! God damn it!"

"I love you." She stopped, looking at you in your eyes. You were scared too, crying even. You didn't want to die, and she knew it. She was so deeply in love with someone she only knew for a few hours, but it felt like years. She needed you, she wanted you to live. Get to know you better when this was all over, maybe even go further if it could!

She couldn't even say it back while you were conscious. The life left your eyes, and your body fell. "No.." she was in disbelief. No, you weren't dead.

"Please, please, I love you too.." She couldn't be upset at anyone, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.

"Unnie." Arms wrapped around her, "Come on..you have to get up..the next round." She didn't want to play anymore, she didn't feel like she could. If only it was her, she could have at least had hope for you and young-mi.

Damn it

[rafesdollette]

SLEEPOVER WITH SECRET!BF!RAFE

a/n: i got a request for this a few weeks ago but the ask deleted itself so I'm so sorry to whoever sent that! and i'm trying to get out of my writers block so enjoy...whatever this is. (not sure how I feel about this) not proofread!!

tw: contains smut, 18+

“come over? just for a little bit?” rafe asked as he looked at you through the facetime camera. it's been a rough day for him and you were really the only person he wanted to see right now. but it was past midnight and you weren't supposed to be out of the house around this time, let alone going to his house.

you've been told by your parents to stay away from him—countless times, actually. rafe knew he had some...things to work on, but in his mind, he wasn't that bad. at least towards you. “dunno rafe...'m already in trouble for skipping school yesterday.” you frown, tapping your manicured finger on the side of your phone. rafe sighed, sitting up against his headboard “please? it'll be quick. i'll sneak ya in and out.”

you were hesitating and that's something rafe could see clearly, but he was desperate. you were one of the only people he actually cared about these days and he didn't want to be alone right now, especially not at night.

“please..? you're the only person i want to see right now.” he pleaded, almost begging in a way. he was never one to beg, but it was the only thing he could think of that could convince you to come.

you thought it over as you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew how it would end if your parents found out you snuck out of your house. “isn't sarah home though?” rafe was silent for a moment, his hand running through his hair “no...she's out. won't be home 'til morning” he murmured. that was one less obstacle so it was one good thing. but you still weren't sure. rafe was your boyfriend and you cared about him, but sneaking out wasn't the best idea right now. “but my parents said-”

“i know sweetheart and i'm not tryna get you in trouble, but i swear it'll be like thirty minutes.” he cut you off, his tone almost desperate. you bit your lip as you leaned back against your headboard. “rafe...” you trailed off with a sigh. you weren't saying no right away, but you weren't saying yes either. it was clear you were conflicted as you hesitated before adding, “okay, fine. but just for thirty minutes. not a second longer.”

rafe's face lit up as he heard you agree. he knew he could be convincing if he wanted to and he was so glad it worked this time. “thank you baby, be outside waiting. i'll come get you.” with that, he ended the facetime, standing from his bed as he grabbed a jacket and his keys. it didn't take long for you to change into some shorts and a hoodie and put your shoes on. you carefully crept out of your room and out into the livingroom, pausing to listen for any noises. once you were sure your parents were asleep, you opened up the front door and slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind you. by the time you were out of your house, rafe was already parked outside.

rafe was leaning against the door of his car as he waited for you. he heard the door open and shut, looking up and seeing you walking towards him. he could see you were nervous, but it didn't stop him from pulling you into a tight hug. “hey,” he greeted, his voice tired but he felt better with you in his arms. you returned his hug, leaning into the embrace. “hey...” you murmured back, your tone almost equally as tired. you could feel the exhaustion in him as he hugged you and you felt the need to ask, “you okay?”

rafe let out a sigh against your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back “not really...” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you reluctantly. he opened the passenger side door for you, waiting until you got in before shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver's side.

you got into his car, leaning back in the seat as you looked over him. you could tell something was bothering him by the look on his face and his tone of voice. it's been a long time since he sounded that exhausted. “...rough day?”

rafe ran a hand over his face, looking over to you wearily “rough life.” he mumbled, starting up the car as he pulled out from the curb. “seatbelt.” you hummed quietly as you reached out to grab the seatbelt, buckling yourself in. you decided not to ask more about what exactly was bothering him; in time, he'd probably talk about it.

the car ride was silent as rafe drove back to his house. you didn't mind though, figuring that he needed the silence in order to calm his head for a bit. a few moments passed before he parked in his driveway, unlocking the doors and getting out. he came around the side and opened your door for you, offering his hand to help you out of the car.

you slipped your hand into his, letting him help you out of the car. walking through his yard, he quietly unlocked his front door and let you in first. “wheezie's home so we're gonna have to be quiet” he said as he shut the door behind him, locking it again.

you followed him inside “gotcha” you whispered as you looked around. “is she awake? i don't wanna be the reason she doesn't sleep.”

“she's asleep.” he mumbled, nodding towards the stairwell. “come on..” he took your hand again, quietly leading you upstairs to his bedroom. once inside, he closed the door and locked it before turning on his bedside lamp and walking over to his bed.

you followed him to his bed, crawling onto it and moving to lay back against the pillows. you could still see the exhaustion in his body as he laid down next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “wanna talk about anything...?” rafe was silent for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about your question. he really didn't wanna talk about anything at all. all he wanted was to lay here with you, which he thought to himself as he shook his head. “nah”

you nodded once he answered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you closed your eyes. you could tell he didn't want to talk and you were okay with that. you both laid there in comfortable silence, no sounds besides the sound of your breathing and the occasional passing of a car outside. “can i do anything to help?”

it felt good to lay here with you. it was the only real peace he's felt in weeks and it helped calm him a little. when you spoke again, he lifted his head to look at you, his tired eyes meeting yours.

he moved a bit closer to you, his arm around your waist tightening as his head rested on your chest. “this is more than enough for me, sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your side. “i do have a request though”

you looked down at him, your fingers lightly running through his hair as you waited for him to speak. you could tell he was still thinking about something and you waited patiently before finally speaking, “what is it?” rafe's eyes closed as your fingers ran through his hair. he loved when you did that and it relaxed him greatly

he was still silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “i need to relieve some stress.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your waist once more before suddenly resting right above the drawstring of your shorts.

────୨ৎ────

“a-ah shit, rafe” your hands clench by your sides as rafe glides his tip between your drenched folds, looking down at you with this tongue between his teeth. “mmh...this wet already, darling? barely even touched ya yet.” rafe hummed, smirking down at you. all you can do is nod and let out a whimper as he tapped his cock against your cunt. “nuh-uh, words. none of that whimpering shit”

you were already a stuttering, whimpering mess as he ran his fingers over your clit. you needed more from him, wanted to feel more of him, but you knew that he wasn't going to give that to you until you answered.

you let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, eyes wide. “yes!” you quickly whimpered, “been thinking about it all night. please, please rafe...” you whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to get more from him. “i know baby, i know” rafe murmured, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he teased your clit with his thumb again “been so long since you've had this cock, yeah?”

you nodded rapidly, eyes pleading him to do something, anything. you wanted him so badly and you could tell he was just teasing, which was driving you absolutely insane. “rafe..." you murmured, your voice trembling a little. rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head “come on. don't get all shy with me now. tell me what you want” he said with a smirk, his fingers still moving over your clit, barely applying pressure. he could feel you shaking beneath him, which encouraged him to tease you a little more. “tsk tsk i want an answer. i know you know how to talk, baby. i just wanna hear your pretty little voice say it.”

you swallowed hard as you looked up at him from under your lashes; he looked so damn proud of himself. you were almost positive he got off on teasing you like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was give him that satisfaction. but your patience was wearing thin and you were getting desperate. you just wanted him to touch you already, but he was always so stubborn. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze again, your voice shaking a little as you finally spoke up, “n-need you rafe…please...”

“mmh, that's my good girl. i knew you could do it baby.” rafe murmured, finally pushing his cock into your aching hole, causing both of you to let out simultaneous moans. “a-ah fuck” you gasp, gripping onto his biceps as he pushes all the way in, making you groan at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt, “so fuckin' tight” he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his member.

you whimper as he remains motionless, denying you the much needed friction. “mmh what do we say after i give you something, baby?”

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he murmured the question into your ear. he knew what he was doing. he knew exactly how to get you to say what he wanted you to say, knowing how well he filled you up and how he wasn't moving. you moaned quietly, hands moving to grip onto his back as you looked up at him with watery eyes, “thank you.”

rafe hummed and nodded against your neck, lightly kissing just under your ear as he lifted his head, “good girl.” he said “you're welcome, my love. anytime.”

he finally pulled his hips back a little, thrusting back into you “you feel so damn good, baby.” he breathed before beginning to thrust into you harder, repeatedly hitting your cervix deliciously “been too long without having you.” he murmured, his hand gripping onto the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder. the change of position caused his cock to slide even deeper, making you gasp.

you whimpered at the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot, unable to speak clearly “oh...oh g-god rafe” you tried, your eyes already shut as you tried to move your hips in time with his. he could feel your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red indents. “look at me.” he murmured in your ear, his hand reaching down to grab your chin, turning your face towards his “look at me while i'm fucking you, sweetheart. ” your mind goes a little blank for a moment when he says that, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you. it takes a few seconds before you manage to open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. rafe's eyes are focused on you, a small smirk on his lips as he sees you staring “there you are.” he hums, biting down on his lip once he feels you start to clench around him “shit, you gonna cum already?”

“yeah...mmh, so close ray.” you moan, struggling to keep your eyes on him as his hand reaches to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. “so fast, sweetheart?” rafe murmured with a smirk “been that long, huh? gonna make a mess all over my cock already?” you don't even have time to respond before your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking as the coil in your stomach snapped. eyes squeezed shut, walls clenching around his twitching shaft. the way your pussy cinched around him is all rafe needed to go over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.

“mmh ray?” you murmur, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “hm?”

“think 'm gonna stay here tonight.”

taglist: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl

© rafesdollette

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Do You Know What You're Doing?

Anywhere I Want (1)

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? kinda, by the peeps of tumblr 🙇🏻‍♀️

> content/warnings: dress shaming? is that even a thing...

> a/n: PLEASEEEE, don't worry i'm gonna post more as i go deeper the algorithm of tiktok

Stealing glances between the five of them, Ava tilted her head as she locked eyes with Barbara, silently asking what just happened. Barbara gave the young woman a shrug and pulled Melissa towards their chairs.

“So, what're we going to talk about? Don't worry we don't bite.” Charlie started with a sickeningly sweet smile, which made Kristin Marie lean forward and stare at the blonde.

“Why is she like that?” You whispered to the Italian blonde right next to you. Kristin Marie gave you a shrug. “Beats the hell outta me.”

Sighing at the situation, Melissa raised a hand. “Yes? Schemmenti with the red hair!” Pointing her hand towards Melissa, Ava gave the room a bright smile.

“How ‘bout we just do our jobs—”

“Right! That’s so right, Schemmenti! And not your sister, you!” Charlie's overly passive aggressive statement made Melissa's eye and hand twitch, one more comment from the blonde, Melissa would have to march down her classroom, get her baseball bat, and beat the headlights off Charlie's car.

“What in the fuck?” Holding her laugh, Kristin Marie gave you a nudge and nodded towards her sister's direction. Being the obedient person you are, you turned your head to look at the redhead’s direction and found her already looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

Nodding her head towards Charlie, Melissa silently asked you what the hell is going on between your friend. In reply, you gave her a shrug and kicked Charlie lightly to stop her from staring at Melissa with shade.

She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it

At last the meeting was over. With Charlie always butting herself whenever an Abbott teacher was speaking made all the teachers, even ones from Addington, very irritative.

“This whole meeting could've finished within an hour if the blonde baboon kept her mouth shut.” An elder Addington teacher rolled his eyes as he opened the building front door.

“Totally true.” Another teacher agreed.

“Well, that Charlie's going to be the talk of Addington now.” said Barbara as she stood behind the front desk, fishing for her lost pen that she lent to the front desk worker yesterday.

“Yeah,” started Janine sadly, “but she was just giving out ideas, guys!” She looked at the people in front of her and not one gave her a ‘yes’ or a nod.

“Y’know Janine, in this industry, you can either be overly respected by not saying anything or have at least an ounce of dignity before you open your mouth.” Melissa gave Janine a look before jostling her bags as she looked for her car keys.

“Schemmenti's right, with that dress on you would've thought she knew how to brake her mouth.” Ava gave Melissa a pat on the back, which Melissa shrugged her off harshly before glaring at the principal.

“She was just doing her job, I see nothing wrong with that.” Gregory gave Janine an encouraging smile. “C’mon Greg, what part of being a teacher has you bamboozling your colleagues?” Jacob gave Gregory a challenging look which made him look at the camera in defeat.

“Your principal’s right, beanpole. C got a little carried away today.” An accented voice behind them spoke.

Turning their heads towards the voice, they saw you and Kristin Marie in front of them. “A little? You mean ‘too’.” You huffed as you crossed your arms in disappointment.

“She was all over the place, hell she's not like that when she teaches gym at school.” You threw your hands up and gave Kristin Marie a look.

Shaking her head, Kristin Marie gave you a nod. “Yeah, well, this isn't Addington.” She pulled you by the arm towards the exit. “C’mon pipsqueak. See ya’ later at the dinner, Red.” Kristin Marie gave her sister a nod and left with you.

But no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity

“Dinner? You do know you have a husband, right?”

“’Course I do, you moron.” Kirstin Marie tossed you another dress. Chuckling as it landed on your face.

“Then why do I have to go?” You stomped your feet as you plopped down your bed onto a pool of dressed your friend gave you.

“You have nowhere to go.” You raised your eyebrow at your friend. “Fine, Ma has been askin’ ‘bout you this month. Gonna give ‘er what she wants.”

Rolling her eyes, Kristin Marie threw another dress at your face. “Put that on and put an act later.”

Pulling the dress off your face, you turned around and walked towards your bathroom. “An act?”

“Yeah, you bozzo. Ma’s expecting you to come with Red.” The blonde sat down on your bed, making you poke your head out the bathroom door and give her a glare.

“Get the fuck off my bed.” Throwing her hands in disbelief, Kristin Marie stood up. “And what do you mean ‘act’?”

“Toni’s gonna be your girlfriend tonight.”

“What?!” You shrieked as you entered your bedroom. “Isn't that lying to your mom? And your family?” Giving Kristin Marie a twirl, you went towards your vanity and fixed your hair.

“Yeah, don't act like you haven't lied before. You ain't a saint nor Mother Theresa, stronzzo.”

“Plus, it'll be fun playing with Red.” Kristin Marie wiggled her eyebrows and grinned. “It’s gonna be so fun.”

Giving you a tap on the shoulders, your friend prompted you to get up. “C’mon, pipsqueak. We have revenge waiting.”

Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you but your lip. “I don't know about this, Tin. What if Mel gets mad? Why are we even doing this?”

“And? She ain't gonna to anything ‘cause Ma’s there. We're doing this because Toni and I find it funny.”

Locking your door, you bagged your house keys and got your car keys out. “Fine, but if Mel unfriends me on Facebook, it's your fault.” The effect of what you were going to do to you made Kristin Marie burst out laughing.

Holding her stomach, your let out a breath. “Jesus Y/N. She's not gonna do that! Trust me. I ain't gonna do anything to worsen your rift with my sister. The family likes you. That redhead idiot just needs a push.”

Opening the car door, Kristin Marie pushed you inside the driver's seat. “Let's go!”

She's not a saint, and she's not what you think

[losers-clvb]

got the one thing that i want // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

summary: you were in love with dean winchester. unfortunately for you, he was in love with someone else.

content: unrequited love, reader is kind of lovesick over dean (but she isn't stupid!!!), suggestive content towards end, dean is kind of a heartbroken asshole, soulless sam makes appearances, nickname "kid" used (but there is no significant age gap), angst, sam x reader if you squint

word count: 3.3k

note: as always, this is unedited. now, personally I am a sam girl first, however dean fit so much better into this idea. hopefully when i write for dean again it will be less angsty (even though i love angst). the storyline revolves around dean with lisa but the timeline and events may be off or not fit into the episodes including it. in that same vein, soulless sam may seem to have a little soul. the title is from lacy by olivia rodrigo as it was the song that was spinning around my head as i wrote this. also: lisa is not the evil woman who is insecure over the reader. i tried to make that obvious, but it may get lost in translation from not being outwardly mentioned. anyways, enjoy!

masterlist

----

Dean wasn't happy with his life. He hadn't been for a while. Driving around the country and hunting the things that go bump in the night was all fun and games until it cost him his brother. Even then, he could try to grapple with the grief he felt as long as he played house with Lisa and Ben. It was almost natural how he fit into their lives. Golfing, PTA meetings, the whole domesticity of it would have made him ill before, but now he was just happy to be safe. Of course, he never really felt safe. He was waiting for the ball to drop, for some god or witch to come out and tell him it was all a sick game to toy with his mind. There was no way Dean Winchester could ever be out of harm's way.

Then it came. The Djinn were there to tear down the dream life he had built for himself. He knew after that he could never be normal. There was just too much on the line for it. He had to be a hunter, it was in his blood. At least he had his brother back again. But, as time went on and he attempted a long distance type of relationship with Lisa, he knew something was wrong. His little brother who he had practically raised was different, cold and calculated instead of kind and intelligent. He figured he couldn't ask for too much, at least Sam was alive.

Then came you. You came from a family of hunters, dating back further than his mother's line. He hadn't seen you since you two were kids, you 10 and him 12, but you had grown up. He couldn't lie, you were hot as hell and under different circumstances he would have been all over you, but he was a taken man. He was loyal to Lisa and would do nothing to jeopardize the relationship. You, on the other hand, had been falling in love with the Winchester since you had reconnected. When you were young you had a small, school girl crush on him, but it had blossomed into more once you had gotten to know the man he had become. It wasn’t lust. You wanted to be around him all the time, wanted to make him smile, wanted to be the one who reassured him when he was feeling worthless.

You had halfway become that for him. You were one of the only people who made him lighter, someone he confided in about pretty much everything. Of course, that meant hearing about Lisa. You tried not to feel jealousy when he talked of her. It wasn’t her fault Dean thought she had molded the sun and stars while thinking of you as merely a friend. You knew it made you a terrible person when you mentally cursed the woman. Maybe you had never really been a good person. How could you when your life revolved around killing? But it certainly didn’t make you better to hope that Dean would leave her for you.

That was the situation you were in now. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala, sipping on a once cold beer while Dean talked of his recent trip to visit Lisa.

“-cooks the best turkey. Juicy on the inside, crispy on the outside.” Dean had been rambling about her cooking for over twenty minutes now. It wasn’t the first time he had talked about it and there was only so much you could say in response to her culinary skills. You nodded along as you mentally counted the stitches of the seat. There it was again. The pit in your stomach as you thought of all the nasty things you could say about Dean’s partner.

“Any romantic prospects for you?” Dean asked cheekily, which broke you out of the trance. He asked you this nearly every time when he was done gushing about Lisa. Your answer was always the same, a lie you told perfectly to his face.

“Not looking right now, maybe once we’re done with this case.” You looked up to him with a forced smile. He chuckled lowly and drank his beer, finishing it off.

“One day you’ll find him, kid.” There it was. The nickname he had chosen for you as kids that had somehow stuck in his brain once you were grown. You cringed at it, hating the way it made you feel.

“I’m two years younger than you, Winchester, don’t call me that.” Your tone was playful, trying not to hurt him. Even when you were sticking up for yourself you were still looking out for him. He shook his head as he looked out the front windshield of the Impala, laughter still in his eyes.

“Still a kid.”

----

Dean was gone now. Off to go help Lisa with some problem she had run into with Ben. It was pathetic, you thought, the way he dropped everything to run to her. Instant regret came with the words. No, it wasn’t pathetic. You were. If it was you he was running to you would have thought it was sweet. You were a pathetic, horrible person for thinking this way. You wallowed in this self pity as you worked on cleaning the gun in your hand.

“I see the way you look at him.” Sam mumbled as he worked on researching the case you two were currently on. He had been watching you, and he had noticed for a while now how your eyes lit up when Dean came around. He had also noticed how that light dulled when his brother spoke of Lisa.

“What?” You asked with irritation. There was no way you were talking with Sam about this. Bobby had tried once, but after getting a door slammed in his face he had thanked God for never giving him any girls to look after.

“You looking at Dean like he’s your lifeline.” Sam’s words made you clench your jaw. You weren’t angry with him, just angry with his words. They were true, of course, but you would have rather a demon take you as a meat suit before admitting it out loud.

“Just shut up.” You snarled at him before feeling just as guilty again. It wasn't his fault you were in love with a man who wouldn't love you back. You continued cleaning the gun as the guilt gnawed away at you. Sam sighed and turned his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“All I'm saying is it's not worth it. Dean's happy now, but he's never going to love you back.” Sam's words were harsh, just another reminder that he was soulless. He had tried to be a little less direct with you after getting berated by Dean, but it seemed his patience had worn thin. Normally, you would have snapped back, telling him it wasn't true, none of what he said was true. But you knew it was. Dean would love Lisa until she stopped letting him, but he would never love you.

----

Dean had called you that night to check in. He knew you were hunting and even if he had no romantic interest in you, he still cared if you were living. You had been waiting patiently by your phone. He had promised to call every other night and you had promised to answer within the first three rings.

“How's it going kid?” That was how Dean chose to greet you. You squeezed your eyes shut in response. Why did he always have to make you feel so small?

“It's, uh, it's fine.” You stammered out as a Sam watched you. You ignored him and chose to fidget with a loose thread on the comforter of the bed. You heard Dean's chuckle through the phone.

“You don't sound too sure, but ill take your word for it.” His voice was gravelly from fighting off sleep. He had almost skipped the phone call in exchange for more sleep but had decided he didn't want to disappoint you. A silence fell over you two. You cleared your throat.

“How's Ben and Lisa?” You spoke, opting to ask something you knew would bring on a wave of talking. You just wanted to hear his voice.

“They're great. Ben, he, uh, has a crush on this girl in his school. I've been giving him tips on how to win her over.” This pulled a laugh from you.

“I don't know if I'd take your advice, Dean. You don't have the greatest track record of keeping relationships.” You teased him, drawing another chuckle from him. You heard rustling on the other end and a female voice laughing quietly enough you almost didnt hear it. Almost. There she was. Lisa.

“Hey, I've done a pretty bang up job keeping this one.” Dean replied, which triggered another laugh from the other line. You could assume Dean had motioned to Lisa. You smiled bitterly before Sam took the phone from your hand. You sat up quickly to argue the sudden thievery of the item, but his raised hand silenced you.

“Dean,” Sam greeted his brother. He watched you as he spoke. You shrunk under his stare, knowing he was frustrated about something you had done.

“Sammy! How are ya?” You could hear Dean through the phone, even with it being a couple of feet away.

“Fine, listen, we gotta let you go. Early morning.” Sam was short with the man on the other end of the line. You could hear Dean bidding a “good night” to Sam before they ended the call. Sam sat on the side of your bed before handing you back the phone. You watched him, waiting for him to say something, anything to explain why he had interrupted your time with Dean. Sam stretched his neck then laid his eyes on yours.

“I told you to back off of him.” He said. If you didn't know any better, you would have swore you heard caring come through in his words. You swallowed down the shame you felt.

“I was.” Your voice was more fragile than you intended it to be. You looked away from Sam, but could still feel his soulless gaze on you.

“No, you weren't,” were the last words said between the two of you for the night.

----

Two weeks later, you heard the slam of a door. You and the Winchesters were staying at Bobby's while waiting for another case to pop up. You had been lounging in the room you had been calling yours for the past few days, reading a book. Sam was God knows where while Bobby was running the phones for Rufus. It had been a quiet afternoon. Quiet up until Dean entered the house.

He had received a text from Lisa stating to call him immediately. Which he did. Immediately. That had been an hour ago. You hadn't known what the woman had to talk about with Dean, nor had he. By the sounds of not only the door but his angry footsteps as he entered your room, he was upset about something. He shut the door when he made it inside. Dean started a slow, furious pacing, but didn't say anything at first.

“Did something happen?” You had put your book down and had moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Your eyes trailed the path he made as he moved. He rubbed his face after stopping in front of you.

“Lisa said,” he paused and took a deep breath. “She said to leave her and Ben alone. That I crossed a line, pushing him.” Dean's voice was wavering between anger and heartbreak. 

“Oh,” you breathed out. You felt sorry for him, you did, but a small part of you, one that was buried deep within, was overjoyed. Maybe either Lisa out of the way Dean would see what he was missing with you. Of course, the second this thought popped into your head that sinking pit in your stomach appeared, the one that only seemed to show up when you thought about Dean and Lisa. You were watching him still, waiting to see what he was going to say or do next.

“It was either eat him or push him! What was I supposed to do, let the kid die?” Dean was frustrated. That was obvious with the way he was rambling on, ignoring any reaction you could have had to this information. You remembered this. A week ago, Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt which ended in Dean becoming a vampire, temporarily. Long story short, he ended up at Lisa’s house before taking the cure, and instead of opening up, he had almost killed them both in a fit of vampiric hunger. You were unsure of why exactly Dean had never told them the whole truth, but he hadn’t. Maybe he thought it would make it worse? You were sure it couldn’t have gotten worse than this.

Dean collapsed down next to you. He held his head in his hands. You sat next to him, blinking at the floorboards. How could you comfort him when you had been praying for this day since they had started dating? You weren’t great with words, words of comfort especially. Hug him? No, that might make things weird. You reached a hand over to place on his back, hesitating before ultimately making contact with his shirt. He was tense. Obviously he was tense. You stayed there, sitting next to him, hand on his back, waiting for him to make the next move.

Dean’s world was crashing down around him. It sounded dramatic, but it was true. Just when he had finally gotten to a place where he could at least be halfway happy with his life, it blew up in his face. Was he cursed? He didn’t know, but it felt like it. He didn’t know much of anything, actually. He had spent so long pushing his emotions away from the surface that he was clueless as to how to deal with it. Drinking wasn’t enough. He needed to get it out some other way. He looked up at you, eyes brimming red on the edge of tears.

Dean knew you loved him. He had known for a while, but knew you wouldn’t act on it. He wasn’t worried about how it would affect the friendship because he would simply ignore it. That was what he did with most things that didn’t benefit him. Ignore it until it got too big, let it blow up his life, then find a way to clean up the pieces. That was what was happening now. This thing he had ignored was suddenly so big, and he knew he could use it for himself. It was a wrestling match in his mind as he looked into your eyes. In the end, there was a winner and it seemed to be the little devil on his shoulder.

You were surprised as hell when Dean lunged towards you. That surprise only increased when you felt his lips on yours. It was strange, the kiss and the fact that you had almost immediately melted into him. You were underneath him as he cupped the side of your face. His kiss was feverish. It wasn’t passionate in the way two lovers kissed, it was more sexual than that. You knew this was wrong, not just morally, but the whole situation. Dean was just grieving the end of his relationship a split second ago. Now he had suddenly found the urge to kiss you? No, it wasn’t right.

“Dean,” you mumbled against him. In response, he kissed you harder. It would have been a lie if you were to say you didn’t enjoy it. Dean Winchester knew how to kiss a girl. You felt his hand go to your side before wrapping around to your back. He pulled you up closer to him as he kissed down your neck. Your own hands found his chest and you tilted your head to allow him better access to you.

“Dean, I have to tell you-,” he cut you off with a sharp nip at your collarbone. He was working his way down you, preparing to do only the things you had dreamed of. You felt that guilt creep in again. Was he doing this because he thought he had to?

“Dean, please!” You pushed him off you, scared you had somehow manipulated him into doing this. Dean scrambled back. He looked upset, not from what you had done, but from what he had done. You were both breathing hard, from the rush of what had happened or from the tension in the room, you didn’t know. You swallowed and tried to keep your eyes on him.

“You don’t have to do this. We can wait.” You managed to get the words out without your voice breaking. You offered a smile, which fell when Dean shook his head. He wore a pained look on his face, which panicked you.

“I love you, Dean.” The words fell out before you could stop them. It wasn’t like they were a lie. You just hadn’t expected to tell him, not now, not like this. Your eyes were wide as you waited for a response, hoping for a good one. It wasn’t as if it was completely unexpected. It couldn’t have been. You spent all your free time either with him or helping him in some way. You laughed with him, cried with him, confided in him. He was charming, which he knew. All of this you knew to be true. Yet all of this hadn’t mattered anymore when Dean turned away from you, sniffing before he spoke.

“I know.” Dean’s reply was only two words, but they held meaning. Meaning you understood. You could read through Dean. He knew the whole time. He also didn’t feel the same. He hadn’t ever loved you. He hadn’t even wanted to try to love you.

“You kissed me.” At this point tears were daring to spill from your eyes. He had known you loved him, known he didn’t love you, and he had still kissed you. He had been more worried about soothing himself that he hadn’t spared a thought for what would happen afterwards. You hated it. You hated him. You hated that you were about to cry like the kid Dean always called you.

“I’m sorry.” Those were Dean’s last words before he left your room. The door was still swinging when the rumble of the Impala’s engine roared to life, triggering a sob to rip from your throat. You hugged yourself and dipped your head between your knees. Everything had changed and you knew it wasn’t for the better. You hated yourself for even putting yourself into this situation. You knew the risks of falling in love with Dean Winchester.

The bed dipped down next to you, signaling the arrival of someone else in the room. You didn’t have the heart to look up. It wasn’t Dean. You knew that. He wouldn’t have come back so soon unless it was to tell you he had lied, he actually reciprocated your feelings for him. But he wouldn’t have done that, because he didn’t. It was Sam. That much you knew from the way he wrapped an awkward arm around you. He was trying his hardest to comfort you without saying “I told you so”. You knew he wanted to, knew it was taking everything in him to not be cold to you. The two of you sat wordless as you cried over a love you imagined you would never feel again.

[project-sekai-news]

The Pegasus - An Interview

Welcome back to PJSK News! I'm your host, Tenma Saki, and because Hoshino couldn't be here today, I have brought a special guest! Special guest, how about you introduce yourself?

Good evening, everyone! I am Tenma Tsukasa, a world star! Many of you know me by my stage name, the Pegasus!!! Saki here is actually my little sister!

Hehe, Onii-chan, no headpats on camera! Anyway.. I have all the interview questions right here! Are you ready?

More than ready! Shoot!

Okay! First question: Tumblr user @sillystringstar asked: "Dear, Pegasus, why the horse name?"

That's an easy one! My surname, Tenma, means 'pegasus!' Therefore, I thought it only fitting to use that as my stage name!

I knew that one! Hehe, then I could use that as my pen name whenever I write articles! ..On second thought, that might be a little confusing.

Let's see, the next question is.. by @ithappenedonroute66 !! "If you are a star, then are you the sun and going to explode in the far future?"

E-er, you see, I'm not that kind of star! I'm a great and talented performer kind of star! BUT! I will explode in a blaze of glory in the future! You'll see, Saki, and uh.. it-happens-route-6!

I'll be waiting! ... user @agoist asked, "Why did you make that young girl cry by yelling “Dance and Sing” at her?"

Wh-where'd you here that from?! Ahem, I mean, the problem is solved! The girl was looking for her mom, is all! With Rui's help, the girl found her mom safe and sound, so you needn't worry about anything!

We're just going to ignore the fact that I blabbed.. next question, by @crime-soncloud! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on the work of this news network, and what do you feel should be reported on more?"

This is a brilliant news network, run by my dear sister Saki and her friends! I try my best to listen to every single one of their reports! ..Though I haven't listened to the one about Akito yet! I've been a bit busy lately...

As for what should be reported on! I believe everything Saki and her friends report on needs their full attention! That being said, I recommend other Sekai's! So far, PJSK News has only reported on evnets happening around Shibuya Sekai, so if they could branch off to other Sekai's, I think that would be very cool!

Ooh, good idea! I'll talk to Ichi about that! Uh - also, the Akito going to jail one isn't that big of an event, haha..! There's no need for you to watch it!

Oh, really? Well, whatever you say, Saki!

Hehe, great! This next one is by.. @ova-kakyoin !! "what is your favorite part of performing? other than people smiling and having fun watching of course."

Hmm.. I'd say getting to know my fellow actors better! You mustn't only care for your audience! The wellbeing of the people you're performing with is also very important!

Well said! Okay.. user @sanri0add1ct asked, "dear Pegasus, why do you call your lunch a luncheon?"

Ah! 'Tis a name only fit for the glorious lunch eaten by the Pegasus!

You always put so much care into the lunches you make for yourself and me! Thank you, Onii-chan!

Anything for you, Saki! What's the next question?

Mm.. @25jpeg is wondering, "dear Pegasus what's your deal with Kamishiro?"

Ah, Rui! Hmm.. I'm not too sure what you mean by that!

Of course you know what they mean! Hm, like.. how he's always teasing you! Or.. oh! I heard from Toya that he sometimes sees the teachers chasing you two around the school~! Ooh, or maybe when you were rehearsing Ro -

Wait a minute! Where did you hear this?!

Well, I picked up the teasing one by myself, and like I said, Toya told me about how the teachers chase you two...

Ugh.. to think my wonderful fans would take our relationship like this..

Time for me to clear things up! ..Everyone, Rui is not bullying me!

...Huh..?

There! Now people won't think Rui is being mean! Rui is my great friend!

Onii-chan... hm. Don't worry everyone, he'll realize his feelings soon enough!

..My feelings..?

Anyway, next question~! @calleigator asked, "Mr. Pegasus Tenma, what are your thoughts on the ongoing apple pie thefts and what are you going to do about it?"

The apple pie thefts? Ah, I remember you and Hoshino reporting on this! I hope the thief will stop stealing apple pies and instead be a good citizen and pay for everything that they stole!

That's a lot of money to pay considering how many pies they stole...

But stealing is no good! As the Pegasus and a world star, I should be setting a good example for all the young children out there! Everyone, if you're listening, don't steal!

Aw, you're such a good influence! That's my brother for you!

Haha! You're a great sister too, Saki!

Ahem.. "Dearest Pegasus, your light shines brighter than any other. What do you plan to do about those who melt in your presence?" - asked by @monkie-see-monkie-do!

Melt in my presence..? Ah, I see, they melt because of my greatness! Well, my marvelous fan, if you melt in my presence, no need to panic! My light revives as well as melts!

Ooh, great answer! This next question is the last one, by @closegamecamo !! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on those fake insects at stores?"

Fake insects..? Ugh, why would you ask me that.. er, I don't even remember what they look like!

That's fine! I brought one here with me just in case!

You wha - aaAAAAAAGGH!!

Haha, Onii-chan! It's just a caterpi - ahh, he fell down!

Eek! T-Tenma-senpai..? Is he okay?

Don't worry about it, Kohane! He'll be fine.. probably..

ONII-CHAN! The interview's still going!

..urk...

Ah, maybe it's a good time to stop..

Bye everyone! I hope your questions were answered by the great and glorious star, Tenma Tsukasa, the Pegasus! Let's keep this little incident between us, 'kay? Bye bye~!

..ugh.. aah, wait! Farewell, my wonderful fa - !

[sitp-recs]

Hi. I hope you are well. I was wondering if you knew any drarry fics which feature a pregnant Draco with the father of the baby not being Harry's

Hi anon! I haven’t read a lot of mpreg but here are some fics that came to mind:

To know the pain of too much tenderness by @cibeewastaken (T, 6k)

Harry is in love with Draco, and Draco sometimes goes on dates with other people, but it’s not like Harry could be bothered by it when he never told Draco about his feeling, right? Right. So Harry isn’t that bothered by Draco’s dates, what bothers him is when one of those dates knocks Draco up and doesn’t want the baby.

Be My Anchor by @maraudersaffair (E, 11k)

When Harry stumbles upon Draco's battered body in Knockturn Alley, he decides to take him home and help him recover. Draco confesses that he's pregnant and no one will help him. He isn't worried about his own survival, only the survival of his unborn baby. Now Harry will stop at nothing to take care of both of them.

Solve Us Like a Mystery by tryslora (T, 12k)

When Harry stops in at the bookstore where Draco works, they find a surprising shared interest in mysteries. Draco doesn't expect to see Harry again, and he definitely doesn't expect to become the subject of unexpected investigation that may endanger the life of his unborn child, and at the same time, may bring him the kind of happiness he never thought he'd have after the war.

A Garden In Us by flightinflame (T, 15k)

Harry works hard as a Healer - it isn't as though he has much else to focus on. He specialises in caring for children who have been affected by dark magic, including Pansy Parkinson's son. He doesn't expect her to send Draco his way. But Draco needs a healer, and Harry needs a friend.

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune by secretsalex (E, 20k)

If Astoria refuses to carry their child, Draco will—which is how he finds himself alone, pregnant, and a patient of Healer Potter’s.

My heart was far too glad by @maesterchill (E, 22k)

Draco Malfoy is single, heavily pregnant and on his way to his first antenatal class. High time he bumped into Harry Potter, wouldn’t you say, who as it happens is in an awfully similar condition.

Little Love by @ladderofyears (M, 33k)

Of all the bad ideas that Draco Malfoy had ever had, moving in with Harry Potter was the worst of them. They didn't get on. Harry was judgemental, messy, and a prude who looked on disapprovingly whenever Draco returned home after spending the night with his boyfriend Seb. But, after a broken condom leaves Draco pregnant, he realises everything in his life has to change. The first thing: his relationship with Harry. After that, everything starts to get better.

[aishangotome]

[Azel] Loving Devoutly in God's Harem - Part 1

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this!

This is a "what if" story.

You, a book merchant, visit Tanzanite and catch the eye of the Living God. You end up imprisoned in the "harem"...

Emma: Prince Azel, thank you for everything up until now.

Azel: Rejected. Why are you casually trying to escape? Wait!

Azel grabs my hand as I try to leave the room with my luggage.

(I guess I can't just suddenly run away without any explanation.)

Azel: Have you forgotten your debt to me?

Azel: You promised to repay the debt you owe me by acting as a shield against women, didn't you?

Emma: If all I have to do is repay the debt, there are other ways to pay.

Emma: For example, I could do other work and repay in installments...

Azel: Rejected.

Emma: Stingy!

Azel: Stingy is fine. Please get to work today.

Azel confiscates my luggage and looks down at me with a frown.

Emma: Then please listen to my earnest plea.

Azel: I'll listen, but that's it.

Emma: The other day, I heard from a merchant acquaintance...

Emma: That the story of the only woman to receive the sole affection of the Living God has already spread throughout the continent.

Azel: And?

Emma: If I were to fall in love with someone in the future, the rumors might become a hindrance.

Azel: Poor you.

Emma: Yes, poor me, right?

Azel: However, even if it's a pity for you, you have an obligation to pay your debt.

Azel: I have no choice but to tearfully bind you to the God's harem.

Emma: ...In the first place, that debt is due to your fraud, Prince Azel.

Emma: You only said you would introduce me to customers looking for books, but then you suddenly demanded a commission fee...

Azel: It's your fault for not confirming beforehand. It was a good learning experience, wasn't it?

(It's no use saying anything else.)

Emma: I've decided! I'm running away tonight!

Azel: Don't declare it so boldly! I'll put a collar on you.

Emma: ...I never knew Prince Azel had such a hobby...

Emma: Eek... W-w-wait a minute!

Azel pinches my cheeks, and when I resist, he picks me up.

Azel: This conversation is over. Let's go to sleep.

Emma: Are we together again today? I don't want to!

Azel: That's how a harem works, isn't it?

(What do you expect from a fake lover?)

The Living God is famous for keeping women at bay.

The harem's caretaker had been racking his brains about this for years, but the situation changed when Azel suddenly brought in a foreign girl.

(I've heard that he wants to do something about the current situation where countless women are flocking to enter the harem...)

(I wonder how long Azel intends to keep me tied down.)

Originally, we were more than acquaintances but less than friends, a book merchant and a customer.

I don't even know why I was targeted by the God.

I'm thrown onto the bed and he embraces my prone body. The warmth enveloping my back makes my heart pound.

(He probably imprisoned me for some baseless reason like, "I'm sure she won't fall for me"... )

(I wish he would realize that's not the case.)

Azel: Let me tell you, this is a measure to prevent you from escaping.

Azel: It's not like I want to sleep with you, so don't get the wrong idea.

(...There are plenty of other ways to keep me from escaping.)

(Since coming to the harem, I've been repeatedly swayed by Azel's suggestive behavior.)

(At first, I could easily brush it off, but as time goes by, it's becoming more difficult...)

(...It's painful to be told I can't fall in love with him.)

-

The next day, my plan to run away at night ended in failure.

Since I'm the only woman confined in the Living God's harem, the people around me are always going out of their way to try and win his favor by any means necessary.

It escalates day by day...

Emma: ...Sigh...

Azel: Don't sigh so obviously. It's contagious.

Emma: I never thought I'd be thrown into the bath while Prince Azel is bathing!

Even though the spacious bath allows for distance between us, soaking in the same water while wearing only a thin cloth is nothing short of an ordeal.

(What will happen if this keeps escalating?)

Azel: Just don't mind it.

Emma: Doesn't it bother you, Prince Azel?

Azel: If it's harmless, I don't care.

(Certainly, if we're this far apart, it doesn't really matter...)

(...That's impossible, isn't it?)

I sneak a glance at Azel, and he's completely averted his gaze from me.

Is this an "I'm not interested" attitude, or is it shyness...?

Either way, there's a prickling pain in my chest.

(Right now, it's just a bath, but there's a possibility that it could become a serious situation.)

(I gave up yesterday, but I really should try to escape, even if it's forced.)

(...)

(...In the first place, I'm a decoy to ward off women.)

(Azel was supposed to hate women who approach him.)

(In other words, if I become like those women, he might get fed up and kick me out.)

(That's right... Why didn't I think of this sooner?!)

The brilliant idea that popped into my head seems like a long shot if I think about it calmly, but...

Cornered, I have no other choice.

Emma: Prince Azel, since we're here, shall I wash your back?

Azel: Huh?

Emma: Or perhaps I could wash your hair?

Azel: ...Ah, so you're trying to get kicked out by deliberately harming me.

(Ugh... He saw through me in an instant.)

Emma: N-no, I wouldn't think of doing something so straightforward.

Emma: It's just that, if I'm going to play the part of the favored woman, even if it's a lie, I thought I should be able to do at least this much.

(Don't be shy. Just a little... just a little more to endure.)

I inhale the steamy air and move closer to Azel through the water.

When I close the distance enough to touch him, his mystical eyes, filled with the starry sky, suddenly turn towards me.

(...!)

Azel: Unfortunately, that's not even enough to be considered harassment.

Emma: ...I'm not trying to harass you.

Emma: It's just... well...

Emma: I just want to love the Living God!

Azel: ...Is that so?

(Huh, he's calmer than I expected—)

(!?)

He puts his hand on my waist in the water and pulls me closer.

Before I know it, our bodies are touching through the thin cloth.

Azel: Then please do your best.

(...Eh?)

.

.

.

Part 2

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[slimybeth69]

Girl Dinner

@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.

Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose

Rating: explicit -

kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.

w/c : 9k (whoops)

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.

authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.

The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.

The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.

It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.

He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.

Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.

You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.

It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!

He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.

Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…

Yes, he would. He's a man.

"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.

The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.

As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.

It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.

It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.

Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.

He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.

"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.

It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—

Goner!

Splat!

"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.

People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.

It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.

Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.

You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.

Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.

Remember that time he took a nap?

"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"

It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.

"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.

His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..

Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.

Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!

"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."

Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!

That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.

Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.

Just to sit in his chair.

The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.

The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.

Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.

Good-fucking-riddance.

"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"

Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.

Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.

Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.

It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.

It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.

Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.

He continues to sneak very quietly.

Can't hide from us.

"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.

Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.

It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.

Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.

Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.

"He sure can't."

Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.

When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.

Not again.

"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.

There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.

Probably get gutted like a pig.

Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.

You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.

Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.

"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.

Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?

He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?

Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?

"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.

"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.

You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.

Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.

"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.

He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—

"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.

He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.

"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"

Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"

You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"

Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"

The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.

"—let me go!"

"—stay forever!"

The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"

"Yep!" You exclaim happily.

Did he say that aloud?

"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.

It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.

"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.

"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.

"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.

"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.

"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.

"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.

He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.

Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.

If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.

Now look at him, upside down!

"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.

"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.

"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.

"Wait! Wait—"

Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!

It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.

Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.

"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—

He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.

Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.

He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!

Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.

You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.

Yeah, ya' did good, kid.

You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."

You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.

Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.

"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—

Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.

The sweet voice is right!

Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.

"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles. 

He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again. 

When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him. 

He's also awake. 

"Hi, Mist—"

"Let me go." 

"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"

Mister-man stares at you.

"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger. 

"Let. Me. Go." 

You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna." 

"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls. 

You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him. 

"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"

"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister." 

His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?" 

"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.

"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.

"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"

"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.

Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.

"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.

Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.

Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"

"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."

"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.

"Maybe a little embarrassed--"

"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.

"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."

"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"

"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"

"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.

"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.

"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.

Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.

"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."

With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound. 

It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody. 

It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.

Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut. 

He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.

The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.

He's taking your breath away... how romantic.

The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.

Guilt. You should just kill him right now--

"Hurt him?"

Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.

Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.

Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.

He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...

Because she tied him up--

As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.

How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?

"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!

"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.

"Do I need to get the brick again?"

Joel stops shouting.

He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.

You're being so, so gentle!

He's acting like a giant baby.

"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.

He'll forgive you, Sugar.

Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.

"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.

"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.

"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.

Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.

"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."

"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.

There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.

Sug, he's so pretty.

Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.

"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.

"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.

"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."

Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.

"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.

"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.

Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"

The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.

"Where would I find meat?"

Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"

You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"

Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.

"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.

"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.

Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.

He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.

"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.

Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.

An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.

"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."

"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.

"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"

"What kinda movies ya' got?"

He wishes he never asked.

You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.

Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.

What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.

Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.

"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.

Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.

Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.

No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?

Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.

You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.

"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.

"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."

"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.

His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.

You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.

"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"

Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.

Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.

Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?

Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.

He could have really hurt her, are you serious?

He's just nervous! Give the man a break--

Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-

"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.

He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"

His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.

"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."

"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.

"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"

Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!

The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.

He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.

"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.

"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.

"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."

Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.

When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.

"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"

"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"

"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."

Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.

Hit him.

It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.

"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.

The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.

Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!

"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.

Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.

"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.

Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.

"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."

The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.

"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"

Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.

Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.

You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.

"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.

Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.

How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.

"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,

The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.

Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!

And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.

Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.

"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.

You feel it now, too.

"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.

"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.

"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.

Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.

"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-

He's never drinking with you again. Never again.

"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.

He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.

"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.

The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.

Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.

"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.

"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.

Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."

The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.

"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."

"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."

Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.

"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.

He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.

"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."

God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.

The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.

"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."

"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.

"Still hurts."

Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.

"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.

"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.

"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.

You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.

"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.

"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"

"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.

"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.

"Not lyin'-"

You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--

"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."

"Fine."

You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.

As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.

You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.

Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.

Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.

The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.

"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!

That was your least favorite eye!

Kill. Him.

When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.

You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.

When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.

Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.

You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.

"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"

While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.

Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.

He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.

The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.

The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!

You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.

No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.

He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.

"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."

You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.

But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.

Oh Sug, he's down bad.

Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.

He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?

There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.

Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!

Why is he so upset!?

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.

It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.

"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"

omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22

[qqhez]

Hiiii! :))

This is kinda one of my first times requesting, so I don't know if I'll do this right, so please bare with me 🙏😞

Since you're asking for requests, I thought about a fem!reader x Hwang In-Ho smut one shot? I don't know if you're willing to do aus, but maaaybe a professor!Hwang In-Ho x student!reader au (legal ofc) where the reader is in love with his professor and thinks he doesn't know (he has heard her talk with her friends before) because she's well behaved and all of these things (the professor definitely knows, he just finds it cute and she's much younger). He isn't giving any signs of liking her back, so she thinks he's oblivious (she's grateful for that), till the final day of classes where the professor is giving the final grades, and she got the best of the class, so he manages to give her grades to her the last, keeping them alone in the classroom? And then confessions and smut ensues?

You can change it to your liking, sorry if I wrote too much :')

TYSM IN ADVANCE 💕💕

-🪐 anon (since now)

OMG THIS IS AN AMAZINGGG IDEA THANK YOU SM 🪐 I LOVE YOU❤️❤️

TEACHERS PET // HWANG IN-HO

Pairing: student!reader x teacher!Hwang In-Ho

Warnings: smut so 18+, teacher x student, no protection (I forgor), praising, lowk ddlg idfk, huge age gap, creampie, ig thats it?

An: shiiiii im sorry if this feels really rushed🙁 school just started again and I’m so tired😪 pls enjoy🙏 also omg I watched Bungee Jumping Of Their Own today and I cried so much :(

In school everyone knew you as the kind and well behaving girl. All the teachers liked you and you were top of your class. But between your friends you were known for having a crush on your teacher. All of your friends knew about it, because you cant keep your mouth shut. But what can you do when your teacher is hot as hell and just soo dreamy. In fact you spent many classes just dreaming about him and not getting any work done.

Right after the bell rings, In-ho’s students slowly arrive in his classroom. He’s usually at the door greeting the students, and of course looking for his favourite student who is of course you. He tried not to smile at you as you walked in and sat with your friends. And of course, again, you spent the whole class just looking at him.

At the end of the class he got up and said to the whole class, “I’m really glad that I got to teach you all this year. Now I’ll give you all your final tests back. When you hear your name, come here for a moment and after that you’re free to leave.” You were sat at the very back of the classroom with your friends. You actually wanted to sit at the very front, so you could be close to In-Ho, but your friends dragged you to the back.

Finally, he called your name. You were the very last one in the room. You quickly got up and walked over to his desk. “Here. Good job.” In-Ho said as he handed the paper to you. He watched you smile, when you saw that you got the best grade possible. “You’re my top student.” He told you, as he got up and gave you a little pat on the shoulder. Right when you’re about to thank him, he interrupts you. “I need to talk to you about something”

As you heard those words leave his mouth, it felt like your heart skipped a beat. ‘Is this it? Does he like me?’ Were the only things in your mind. For three years, you had been giving him signs that you were really in love with him. But you never got anything back from him, until now.

“I’ve heard what you’ve said about me to your friends.” He said with a grin on his face. “Oh! Sir I’m so sorry-” you manage to say before he interrupts you again. “It’s okay. I have those feelings towards you too.” He said and stood up from his chair and taking a step closer to you. He lifted your chin up with his fingers and looked lovingly in your eyes. You hesitated for a moment but still crashed your lips together with him. You started to make out on his desk.

You made out for some time and slowly, you pulled away from him even though it was really difficult. “What if Someone catches us?”you asked while you were still holding his face in your hands. “Look.” He pointed at the clock. “You’re not my student anymore, so it’s okay.” He reassured you. ”you still wanna do this?“ he asked, playing his hands on your hips. You looked in his eyes and said ”Yes.”

He pulled you by your hips and turned you around, so that now you were bending over his desk. He put most of his weight on you so you couldn’t get away from him and slowly kissed you down from your neck to your thighs. This was easy for him, because you usually wore a skirt to school, or at least in the summer. When he lifted your skirt up to reveal your panties, a small ‘aww’ left his mouth, when he saw the cute pink panties you were wearing.

“My god.. you’re soaking wet! You really want me this bad?”

You tried to hide your face from all this embarrassment. “Mmmmhm” was all you could let out. You couldn’t even think about what’s gonna happen next, when your panties were pulled down and his fingers were inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan. “Shhhh.. it’s okay…” he whispered while coming up to kiss your neck again.

He pulled his fingers out of you, so that he could unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down. Few seconds without his fingers got you all whiny and desperate to feel him again. “Are you ready?” He said while stroking his cock a few times, even though it was hard already. “Yes.. please, be gentle..” you whined as he began to spread your folds.

He managed to only get the tip in, and you were already a moaning mess. He made sure he was being really gentle with you and always checking that you were okay. “Good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praised you as he started thrusting into you harder.

You kept gripping on the papers on his desk as you came closer to your orgasm. The way he was grunting and letting out small moans made you sure that he was close too. “Mm im gonna come-” he grunted in your ear as he sped up his thrusts. And that was it. You both came at the same time.

He waited for a small moment and before he pulled out,he kissed you on the lips again. ”my baby, you did so good. Tomorrow at the same time?” He asked as you pulled your panties back up. “That’s a deal.”you said and kissed him again.

[amaya-143]

hello. part two of me ranting about the fear of memory loss in isat. is it that obvious i have autism?

part one was about the kings fear of forgetting. Go read. *clicks my fingers like a cat* go.

disclaimer not a psychiatrist blahh blahhhh u get the idea :p king rant was long, this will be longer. maybe one singular person is as normal as i am about this game and will enjoy. otherwise at least its out of my system and into words

So yeah, the king is afraid of forgetting. Siffrin, however, is afraid of being forgotten.

Siffrin, is late 20s, and just like the king lost the majority of their memories to the island.The people they loved, all that jazz i don't need to write the cinematics again. They too end up in an unfamiliar place, however they end up a rouge. They travel from city to city, never staying anywhere solid, never making any real connections for years (at least as far as we know.) To him, he is just a guy* who lost everything that they knew, and that's that. No point if it'll just happen again. In fact im not even sure if they're aware they're from that island, since I'm pretty sure he learns it ingame. He just exists. Thats it. Their life doesn't matter, doesn't impact anyone. He is forgettable

But then, they meet Mira, Odile, and Isa. Then Bonnie, and when things couldn't get more confusing, he loses an eye for them. The party loves Siffrin, even if they never say it pregame. They appreciate him. And even if Frin doesn't think it directly, they definitely subconsciously believe it pregame. Otherwise, it wouldn't be such a shock when odile says they're colleagues at best. So how can Siffrin go back to his old life? A life on the go, with no connections, nothing but the millisecond bumps into strangers and polite conversations with the clerk at the hotel desk. Nobody to come home to, no one to ask how their day was.

Its like trying chocolate after eating coco beans all your life. Maybe you can tolerate going back to coco beans for a bit, but you'll never forget the chocolate. It'll be something you think about all the time, your thought before sleep takes you, as tiktok would say your 'roman empire'.

So Siffrin cannot let them go back home. He wishes to stay with them. and thus, the loops happen.But after a bit he, quote, 'understands the king more than he'd like to'

He refuses to be forgotten, to have to go back to that life. They've lived the span of their memories being so blindingly forgettable, now someone, some people see them and its so close in his grasp. Isabeau is so close to confessing to him. Mirabelle is so close to her full potential as a housemaiden. Odile is accepting she's more than her roots. And Bonnie, the kid he lost an eye for, disabling him permentantly, HUGGED them. a massive deal for a fella whos been living off small talk and avoiding eye contact for the last 10 years. Just one more loop, if they do it all right then just maybe..

Not here to talk abt the loops. moving on.

After all these people who love him, they don't wanna be forgotten. Trauma isn't just a factor in disorders. Trauma can, and often does create its own reactions. For a real world example, Children who grow up with absent parents often react with avoiding and distancing tendencies, where as children with emotionally unstable parents tend to grow to be anxiously attached to those they love. These aren't disorders, but they are a reaction to the trauma faced and ingraned. Frin's fear of being forgotten is just as much a trauma response as it is a result of the way he lives. Who knows how many people Siffrin forgot in the island. What's stopping him from being like them? What's stopping him from being so forgettable.

Side note, act 5 is next to the Sunny vs Basil fight as my favorite two scenes in games, especially when it comes to imagining/reading about them in other characters povs other than the mains. And bigfrin is my absolute joy in the world. not sorry.

But after loops n loops of trying to prevent it, hearing off handed comments about how bonnie hates them, and how isa will say i love you to anyone except him, Sif's self worth is at an all-time low. They just don't have it in them anymore. They cant do it. we're looking at months of living the same two days over and over. Same lines. Same people. Same events. Years, if you're an insane person who does like 500+ loops. I think most people did like 70-150 though. Siffrin has been reliving this for so long he's begun to find comfort in it. It feels safe. Its boring, its insufferable, yes, but its SAFE. After suffering all those months, they're leaving anyway. They are going home. They will go home and forget Sif and it will all be for nothing. When Odile stops them from looping back, they strike. Either at themselves, or those they love. They would literally rather attack those they've gone through months of suffering just to spend more time with, or attack themselves time after time till it kills them. They'd rather it than risk them all leaving and forgetting him. I don't really have much more to say i guess i just ugh

i love act 5 i love bigfrin and if theres any writers reading this write some act 5 from other party members pov and you will get the juciest kiss.

if you read all this way, congrats!! i diagnose you with autism 💜

*guy is used as a unisex. i know the correct term for siffrin is fella. i went to gender school.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

every magic school has the Cringefail Newbie and the Self-Proclaimed Prodigy that adopted him <3

so I finally managed a drawing of Elbryn I'm actually happy with! idk if I'll ever write a proper fic involving him but I do have many Thoughts™ about the lil guy so I'll just dump them here under the cut

so after his rather embarrassing magical mishap in Helgen (which he's pretty sure didn't summon the dragon? but he isn't ruling it out as a possibility) he basically swears off using spells entirely and opts for a war axe

somehow manages to not die despite his lack of skill, figures out he's the Dragonborn yadda-yadda, we've all played the quests.

actually counts the Seven-Thousand-Steps to High-Hrothgar like the nerd he is. It was significantly more than seven thousand and his legs hurt so badly.

after making it to High-Hrothgar the Greybeards basically told Elbryn that he would need to become stronger before he could battle dragons as equals and master his Thu'um. Unfortunately they didn't provide much guidance on exactly how he should go about that, only telling him "that path would be made clear" and leaving the rest up to him.

Decides to go back to Whiterun and join the Companions. He's very intimidated by them, but they're probably the best people he could hope to learn from if he wants to master his skills with a blade.

Notably he goes to great lengths to hide his status as the Dragonborn from basically everyone. He feels as though the people of Skyrim are disheartened enough with the return of the Dragons, and if they knew this "legendary dragon-slayer" was really just some scrawny Breton ex-mage it would only dishearten them further, so he feels like it's better to let everyone assume the Dragonborn is some strong and fearsome Nord warrior or something of that nature. At least until he feels as though he can live up to the title.

He also hides his past as a mage from them because he gets the sense that the Companions would like, instantly stop respecting him if they knew. He does feel very bad about keeping so many secrets from them though, seeing as they all talk a big game about how they "don't deal in secrets like thieves and mages do"

Anyway things with the Companions go surprisingly well! His fighting skills improve significantly and he actually starts to form an unlikely friendship with Farkas. a bit of an "opposites attract" type thing. Farkas sees that Elbryn has a lot of potential but lacks confidence, so he sorta decided to take him under his wing. (Vilkas is a bit less fond of Elbryn though. not that he really dislikes him or anything, but he catches on that he's hiding something and doesn't quite trust it)

anyway if you know how the Companions questline goes you know that they take you into the Underforge with the intention of turning you into a werewolf alarmingly fast. Elbryn was still willing to work with them upon learning they were werewolves, but becoming one himself? no no no no nope. He basically tells them "yeah uhh I'll need to think about it", goes to his room, packs his stuff and sneaks off that very same night without saying a word to anyone. In hindsight he feels bad about that. Kinda wishes he had left Farkas a note or something, but he was scared and in a hurry. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now...

now I know they weren't going to force him to become a werewolf or anything, but Elbryn didn't know that. I mean they said they weren't going to force him but they also said the Companions don't deal in secrets, yet here they are doing this under Kodlak's nose in the dead of night! he has no idea what to think or expect or who he could even talk to and these guys have teeth. so he just runs.

north specifically. Not for any particular reason, he just had to pick a direction and it happened to be north. Wanders around for a bit, unsure of were to go now that his only source of martial training fell through.

Eventually comes across Frostflow Lighthouse (REAL downer of a dungeon that one) Now the thing about Frostflow is that near the end you drop down a cliff, and the only way back out is through the final boss. the giant Chaurus Reaper. So he's cornered down there, alone, with a foe he is woefully unprepared to fight. (In game it kept two-shotting me lmao, but I decided to make a story thing out of it!)

So in desperation he decides to use his magic. Not a lot mind you, maybe just to heal himself or create a flash to stun it so he could get away, but whatever it was he intended to do with it hardly matters, because that's not what ended up happening.

See, as it turns out, when you're naturally gifted with high amounts of magic, trying to suppress it for long periods of time like what Elbryn did basically turns you into a magic bomb. So the moment he tried to tap into his magika reserves, it was like a dam burst open. Everything in the cavern was engulfed in a storm of pure untamed magical energy, swirling and burning and tearing until nothing was left of the Chaurus but some strips of charred flesh and chitin

Elbryn immediately passes out, wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later dazed and utterly horrified at the carnage he left behind. I mean sure, it worked out in his favor this time, he was surrounded by foes and going scorched earth was really the only option, but if someone else had been with him? if something like that were to happen when he was with a friend or trying to protect or rescue someone... He looks back at the charred bits of Chaurus strewn about.

yeah, just suppressing his magic ain't gonna cut it, he needs to learn how to control it or else. There's a college in Winterhold right? that's where he has to go then. So he sets out east over the ice fields and hopes he can make it there before getting hopelessly lost and dying.

(ok I had a lot more to say but this was getting LONG I'll have to make another post later lol. sorry, Elbryn decided he wanted to have a story so I guess there's a story now)

[reidhalstead]

Her venom is airborne, infecting him with her malicious words and her low blows that have him aching; women love to bury a knife or a knee knowing it'll certainly hurt. Anika has more ammunition than those bullets in her pistol. That's on him, he should have realised sooner that she treated him like no hunter would ever treat a monster.

But how can she stand there and claim she had no fucking idea — a notion he cannot comprehend. He'd have known, had the roles been reversed. He isn't Anika, he wouldn't have spared the creature in the bar or in the alleyway. Wouldn't have dared accept a roof over his head, if it meant that it was with a bloodsucker. (Yet, despite his confusion, he never made her feel less for the decision to do otherwise.) But if this is anything to pry his eyes wide open; it's that they're nothing like each other.

"I didn't let anyone do anything, Anika." There had been nothing about his circumstances where he ever wanted this. "I thought about it — every day." A reality she didn't deserve to know. Nor one, where he recognises he'd recently had days, where he didn't wake up and flirt with the sun. His jaw tightens, stepping once towards her, "But some of us can't cowardly give up, because my family is still alive—" He doesn't think about it until he's said it. But he squeezes his eyes shut, as he doesn't want to compare them; she doesn't need his reasoning, because Reid hates it more than she does with that agonised look in her eyes.

But she bites at him, sharper than he's ever bitten at her. His eyes snap back open. He doesn't respond in the same sharp tone, Reid's is simply colder — like she's drained him of his blood with that bullet through his hand. "I knew who I was living with when I was a hunter." The past tense, still hurts.

Another bang echoes around the apartment. And he doesn't move even when that sharpness buries inside his chest. He twists, catching himself on the sofa with the back of his calves; it's the sun's turn to land her strike as he steps back out of the blaze, to feel the gash of scorched skin on his leg. Wincing, he reaches for the more prominent pain between his ribs.

The bullet is stuck and he can feel it jostling against his lungs, his thumb and forefinger slowly reaching inside the wound, to find the trapped piece of wood. It ghosts against the pericardium of his heart.

“No," He chokes out a harsh breath as he realises he's still standing; she hadn't dusted him, "—he would have made it quick.” And he knows that.

Anika is cruel in her revelation.

Reid finds the bullet, hissing as it burns his fingertips. He tugs it out from within a bony cage as it clatters on the coffee table in front of him. He's still wincing. Feeling his energy reserve wane with every desperate attempt his body makes to knit over verbena-smeared injuries.

Stop fucking shooting me, Booker. If he knows anything, it's that saying that will probably mean she empties the clip. But it's good because this pain distracts from the one anguishing reality in which his world is crumbling down around him. Straightening, he eyes her with that stare that she hates, deciphering the pain in her hues and the way she stands; hunter-like, in her assertion.

He thinks about Anastacia; lost; the one he met the first time. He feels a nauseating sense of de ja vu in this stagnant pause. He hasn't made any attempts to put a stop to her assault, he's saved her some trouble, "—what now?"

Back to the beginning. She's lost all over again. He has too (but he's always known that.)

Their eyes lingered on the same piece of evidence planted there to answer the questions they both had. That stupid mark. It was faded, and old but Anika has never seen a man with such a mark, and no heart beat to match the vibrant pulse of magic beneath the ink. She'd never seen a man, who had sworn to kill all that is monstrous and end up being on the other end of that stake. There was nothing more pathetic, than wearing that mark and hide in the shadows, fearful of the light of day like something cursed, like a beast damned to roam the darkest parts of the world; like a rat in an underground sewer. If there was one wise choice, a man in his position could've made (should've made), it would be to cease existing. Because he surely couldn't call that existing, could he?

She wanted the ache to go somewhere else; her face, or her hands, or her stomach. Anywhere else but the hollow spot in her chest, where pain was only louder, and louder, almost deafening with each word he said. He was right — they had spent months in this apartment, where she awoke when he dreamt, and he walked when she was counting the stains on her ceiling. Two worlds with no way of colliding. They only crossed paths outside the bathroom, or in line for the fridge, where quiet complaints fell on unbothered ears. Shoulders lifting in casual shrugs at mundane questions asked, and eyes never lingering long enough to remember the color that stained the other's hues. Anika never cared to know more, to feel more — it was enough to know he wore the mark. She could always kill him, if he tried to pull anything funny. When did things slipped out of her control? Gradually and then suddenly, the way seasons changed right outside their window. From freezing winter, to a scorching summer.

And in the first warm rays of summer, she no longer gave a damn about the mark.

So what was he accusing her of? Having a heart or being a shitty hunter? Both? Maybe, because one did lead to the other. Difference was, she never claimed to be a good hunter. She never aimed to be something better, something great — it was all about survival. Sometimes, it wasn't even about that, because most times she wished she had not survived as long as she had. She'd never pride herself on possessing some sort of extraordinary talent for killing monsters. No, she was simply a good conman. Terrific liar. A survivalist. She was brave — unlike him. The coward that chose to live life like a cockroach, instead of dying with the last shreds of dignity and honor left.

"And you cannot fucking tell me you let someone do this to you. You cannot fucking tell me you chose to live like this." she spoke back; fist in her throat, bile in her stomach. I'm going to be fucking sick. "What kind of a fucking hunter were you, huh? Smarter, I bet, to die like a fucking dog." At least she was still alive. In all her stupidity — for every foolish crack of her ribs that allowed him further into her, she was still a living, breathing thing.

A different kind of beast.

Anika was used to goodbyes spoken too soon, because love and grief went hand in hand for her. Every fond thing she's ever known had been ripped away; gone in every possible way, gone or twisted to a point where it was no longer recognizable. Her eyes lifted to meet his; to watch him shatter. "Yeah, I'm not my father."

The bullet she fired aimed for the left side of his chest. Anika was good with a gun. There was a boy once, at a training ground, far away from home (in the middle of fucking nowhere) that taught her how to aim for the heart. She barely knew how to hold a weapon back then; always been good with knives, but never a gun. Of course, she had seen one, her father being in the military had many at home. Yet, she never could've imagined that she'd ever use one. Her hand shook to an almost embarrassing extend, and she remembered vividly that he did laugh because, it was quite clear that seventeen year old girl would not survive a day in his world.

But she took his advice, and everyone else's that passed through her life like unwanted guests. And built herself up to withstand the cruelty and the viciousness of the world they lived in now.

She was a good shot. It was exactly why the bullet, when colliding with his chest, missed his heart by a mare centimeter. It would still hurt like a motherfucker, and she did want him to hurt, she did want him to scream in agony, writhe on the floor in excruciating pain. Just to prove that he was nothing — prove that there was nothing in her for him, that there was nothing she would do to spare him.

[hmura-hmara]

Something about Luke being the spitting image of his father

[spoondoodles]

I blacked out and more Logince HS AU appeared on my canvas idk what happened (also ty @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat for some inspiration sorry it took so long to make a post about Them <3)

[spinnysocks]

kiburi x ushari but specifically doomed kiburi x ushari. more than anyone else in the army they believe with full sincerity that scar's plan HAS to work because they can't succeed without him