#they're not going to abandon him or anything

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

PREQUEL TO: BABY I'M RIGHT HERE

MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you preciously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you too. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[postmoe]

Yandere Feitan - What it Means.

Feitan time cause I never do Hunter x Hunter. More Slice of Lifey for the shortstack wifey.

torture, noncon, slice of life, wax play, tickle torture, humiliation, gn reader

.Feitan has no idea about his feelings when you come into his life. He thinks it's a good idea to swat you like the annoying insect you are.

More often than not you're happy, always excited when you see him and the troupe, none the wiser to the threat they possess. Some of the members joke about how easy it would be to take advantage of you since you'd more than likely do half the work for them.

It's not until his mind starts drifting to you during quiet moments does he even consider you're worth something. Perhaps a new body to try new techniques? With the orders put in place by Chrollo, time hasn't been gracious enough to let him indulge in his artistic side.

He makes up his mind that at the end of the mission he will be taking you with him to play with. You're off limits now, and if they can help it then you also get your life spared for the time being.

The heist goes off without a hitch. It's gory, loud, and you - who had been gracious enough to show them every exit, every room, every security box as part of the tours - now stared at Feitan like he had just betrayed you, even though he never made an effort to befriend you in the first place.

You get an ultimatum, follow him quietly or he knocks you out, and for every minute you stay unconscious is another body added to the pile.

Even though you hid in the security room for most of the attack, you saw everything on camera. Not to mention the horrible death that befell the guards in the room when he came, eyes wide in fear and mouths left often as they tried to breathe through the blood in their lungs. At least one thousand people have died tonight, no one else needs to suffer.

It seems to be funny to the troupe as you shake and cry behind Feitan, following diligently through the wet corpses and broken interior of the building. The blonde man cracks a joke about him finally finding someone to warm his bed, and maybe even his attitude, reaching out to touch your shoulder when Feitan swiftly punches him in the gut. It's all the acknowledgement he gives.

For some reason, you're made to carry stuff as well, mindlessly helping these criminals because you're not sure what else you can do. They're not human.

Eventually it's just you and Feitan, forcing you to walk farther and farther away from civilisation until your feet are aching and your legs are shaking from exhaustion.

You stop in front of an abandoned farm house, windows boarded up and grass taller than yourself. When he starts walking down the flattened path to the front door, it hits you harder that this is the end, this is where you die a horrible, painful death and no one is even going to know.

You're sobbing, you can't stand anymore and collapse to your knees, snot and tears running down your chin as you beg and beg and beg him to let you go.

His eyes and eyebrows, the only expression visible over his cowl, scrunch to a pissed look. He doesn't say anything, only grabbing your wrist with a hold so tight you think the bones inside might break, yanking you and dragging you towards the house.

He doesn't turn on any lights as you're pulled through the dusty interior, eventually coming to a door that leads down to the basement. "Walk or I'll push," he finally says to you after hours of silence.

Your steps are slow but he doesn't comment on it. Once your feet finally touch the cement floor, he walks around you and deeper into the darkness. You have to squint and shield your eyes when the light in the middle of the room is turned on by a yank of the cord attached to it.

The way your head begins to sting and ache from the despair is more annoying than anything now, as beneath the light is a bloody, metal table with a dirty rag, and next to it are tools obviously used to hurt someone.

Perhaps it's the prostration of your mind finally giving in, but you joke over a wavering voice, "You'll at least wash those before you use them on me, right?"

It's silent as he just stares at you, watching the way you hold your arm for comfort, your knees clacking together, your jaw unable to stay still. Then, he merely scoffs, pushing the table away to make room. He goes the the old workbench, reaching under and pulling out an old, dusty blanket. You circle around the room as he steps towards you, hugging the wall. Eventually, he just rolls his yes and throws the blanket at you, smacking you square in the face. You quickly pull it off, just in time to watch him slide down the wall in front of the stares, arms resting on his knees, "Sleep."

Nothing else is said, and any time you try to ask questions he either ignores them or tells you to sleep. You suppose it's comforting, after flicking a good portion of the dirt and dust off the blanket, having it wrapped around your shoulders as you cradle in the adjacent corner, far away from him and still under the light.

Most of the night is you two staring at each other, though you had to wake yourself up a few times as you began to nod off. You're pretty sure you did fall into a sort of sleep multiple times throughout the ordeal.

.

Suffice to say, this wasn't how Feitan pictured this going at all. He looks at you, he looks to the tools, he looks at you, he looks to the tools. It's an ongoing battle he has for quite a while after kidnapping you.

No doubt your fear and tears fuel him, he just loves having you around whenever he's working, sharing stories and pictures over dinner. Your screams when startles you, your blood and bruises from being clumsy; it's all catering to his taste. So why won't he put you on the table yet?

Once you've moved, you're allowed to roam the house as this main base is more secure. Privacy doesn't really exist with Feitan, unless it's his own. More than once you've come out of the shower to see him sitting casually on the toilet seat or sink, you have figured out he likes making you jump. You'll think you're alone in the kitchen, singing quietly to yourself, and he's come back from a mission days earlier than he says and talks as if he's been there the whole time (he probably has).

The worst he makes you do when it comes to his 'hobbies' or 'work' is making you watch and hand him the tools. You have to take part, you're not allowed deny him or else he'll somehow make it more sadistic.

One day you had been braver than before, shouting how this is wrong and you won't be like him. Feitan had conceded after that, letting you go back upstairs. You had gotten through to him, you really did believe that. Until two days later when you were brought back down to the basement and there were now three hostages.

They sat in a circle, tied with rough rope and stripped to their underwear. Their mouths were gagged but their eyes were clear of any restriction. Momentarily they looked to you, only look back at each other with desperation and grief. He points out and introduces each person, "Grandmother, mother, daughter. Family of Hunters."

The daughter was the one from two days ago. Feitan said a few things, that she was trying to track down the troupe, had gotten information from an unknown source that he was tasked with figuring out. He pulls her gag down, words immediately spilling out, "Please! I told you everything I know, I promise you. Leave them out of this."

Feitan nods, idly holding his hand up and lengthening his nails to a sharpened point, "I know. This, is for them."

All eyes are on you now, accusatory, like it's you that's failed them.

There's no time for words of disgust or questions when Feitan has a goal in mind. He pulls down the other two gags before turning his gaze back to you, "Three people. Six eyes. Choose three eyes to gouge."

"M-Me?!" You step back, their volunteers already flooding your ears, each begging you to only take theirs. You aren't listening, speaking over them to Feitan, "But she just said you have what you want! Why do this?"

His eyebrow raises, judging you as if it's stupid to even ask. "How do you know you don't want to be like me," like the ominous, little creature he is, Feitan slowly steps around the three victims until he's by your side. Gently, a word that has never once been used to describe him, he takes your hand and runs his fingertips along the length of your palm to your own, "If you've never tried?"

It's only when you hear yourself gulp do you realise how quiet it is. Looking over to the other three, it seems you're shaking harder than they are.

A cold object is slid into your hand. You looked down in time to see him closing your fingers around it and holding it up to glint in the light. For the first time you see carefree amusement in his eyes, his voice coming out in a soft laugh, "Pineapple eye peeler."

As it stands, after that night, you stuck with being the assistant and not the surgeon.

.

"So, how's the pet?" Phinks asks, he and Fei on the top of a city skyscraper as they wait for the target helicopter to land. They're late and the two are running out of conversation topics.

Feitan huffs, unable to look at Phinks because he knows if he sees that dumb smirk he won't be able to hold back, "Cranky. Not rebellious, just... temperamental."

"Ha!" Phinks kicks up a random stone from the ground, grabbing it and throwing it as far as he can, the object disappearing into the night, "Do you fuck them?"

Ah, an interesting question. He didn't notice it at first, whenever Feitan woke up slightly aroused. He is a man, it's not uncommon. Then he kidnaps you and takes care of you and it gets more frequent and harder to wake up without thinking about you and rubbing one out. He takes any opportunity to smell you, touch you, rub against you. He can't tell if you're more uncomfortable with helping with his work or when he rubs up against you to get the right instrument.

It seems his silence speaks volumes, Phinks tilting his head in coolness, "Sometimes you just need to fuck it out. If you're not going to kill 'em, fuck 'em."

The helicopter finally pops up in the distance, 45 minutes after the time it should have appeared. Both boys get ready, excited for the event to come, a certain concupiscent desire filling Feitan's head as he thinks about what to do when he gets home.

.

Usually when Feitan brings you down to the basement, there's already someone prepped and waiting. Sometimes, he likes to make you help get them ready, depending on how much time he has and the level of distress he wants to induce in you.

Today, the table is empty, clean even. The shelf with the instruments is covered by a sheet so you can't see what is under and in store. Your unease is heightened into fear when he stands before you with a lengthy blindfold and orders, "Turn around."

Oh gods. This is it, he's finally going to end you. You've witnessed and aided his endeavours for over a year, you're aware of what he is capable of, and now he's hiding it to let your mind wander and guess what exactly he's going to torture you with.

He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his annoyance making you shake even worse, "Calm down. Won't hurt... much."

That didn't really help. All it took was one glance to the staircase for him to step heavily towards you, reminding you of no escape. There isn't much you can do aside from allow him to blindfold you and lead you onto the table.

You think you're going to piss yourself with how thorough he is. Bringing your wrists beside your head, the clanking of metal and leather heard as he secures them so you can't move your arms. As if that's not enough, he removes your clothes with ease, tearing the threads and throwing them away before binding your ankles to your thighs and locking you in place on the table. It's humiliating. Absolutely deplorable.

You're quivering in the cold, fear emanating off of you in waves and Feitan is absolutely devouring it. Yes, this is what he wanted, to have you before him in a vulnerable way that makes your tears flood through the blindfold and your whimpers echo off the walls. He takes all the time in the world to examine your body, knowing that every second is like hell to you. You're not even sure he's still there, your small whines of his name seeming to fall into an empty room.

A single finger runs along the base of your foot and you flinch so hard it makes the metal bench rattle. "How does it feel," he begins, doing again and watching intently as your abdomen seizes, your toes curl, your teeth grit and your arse tighten around nothing yet, "To be the one tied down?"

Feitan alternates his fingers, the touch more consistent now, moving around your foot and ankle so you don't get too used to it. And then there's you, laughing, but you're obviously hating it. Your voice is shrill, your body is tensed so tightly that it's beginning to ache. "Please!" You're begging, screaming, crying, laughing, "Please, stop! Stop! Stop it!!!"

He doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life. You can't thrash hard enough to get away, to give yourself some sort of pain from the leather cuffs to take your mind off of it. He doesn't relent until he's satisfied, when you're gasping for breath and your skin has change colour and your screams are beginning to take on the same note. He waits until he's sure you're breathing has levelled enough for you to him, "Ridiculous. Can't even handle that. Wouldn't last a second in the real world."

You never expected Feitan to get sexual during your time here. You couldn't even imagine someone like him having any human needs - you're sure he only eats with you to keep up appearances. He does, though, and it makes your life ten times worse.

Your first experience together is nothing short of traumatising. He doesn't even fuck you, he just plays with you. Testing out toys, feelings your flesh, degrading you over and over again.

"Hate this? Then why so wet?"

"Pathetic. Won't let you come like that."

"Scream louder, or are you enjoying this?"

"Tsk. Fine. Will make sure you don't stop coming, then."

The denial goes on for too long, but then the overstimulation just won't end either. His nails nick you, you're sweating, covered in fluids, throat is raw and your body aches and begs to be released from these confounds but he just won't do it. Not until you're unconscious and muttering nonsense.

After he wipes you down and lays you in bed, he stays and watches you sleep. That isn't uncommon, though in the past he had always been confused, or thoughtful. Now, he feels fulfilled. Like your purpose here finally makes sense.

.

There's hardly a break. When you don't have a blindfold on, he stays fully clothed. It's more about the embarrassment for you, having to stand before him naked while he barely shows an inch of his skin. Showers are the worst, you tend to have the curtain open now so you don't step out unknowingly to no clothes and no towel. Your wardrobe is cleaned out and you have to make the humiliating walk around the house to find Feitan and ask to be dressed.

He follows you around until he decides to let you find him. Don't go to bed naked, or are you inviting someone to do something to you? He hadn't realised he kidnapped such a slut.

Sometimes he will be with you when you bathe, keeping you company, making you uncomfortable. You had stripped before him when he refused to let either of you leave. Then, suddenly, you're yelping as he's pouring hot wax down your back. You've bent over and grasped the edge of the bath, looking over your shoulder with tears dripping from your eyelashes as you ask him why he would do that.

A stupid question.

He just holds the candle carelessly and blows it out, the room going completely dark. That was the night he bathed with you, sitting behind you and using his sharp nail to chip away at the wax, reveling in the redness of your skin, the little prickles of blood that mixed with sweat and bath water, and the way you jolt and yelp when it gets caught on the finer hairs.

By the time he actually fucks you, it's been months of his new torment and torture. He may not see you in the same light as one of his 'friends', or revere you like he does Chrollo. But, in the only twisted way Feitan knows how, he thinks he does love you.

As you lay beneath him on the bed, one you now share, cheeks wet and lips parted in little gasps of breath, he feels a need to push his mouth to yours. Bruises in the shapes of his hands have already formed on your hips, stomach, and now over your collarbone while he holds your torso down with one hand and cups the back of your head in another. The kiss isn't anything fancy, just hard and dominating as he figures it out, his hips slapping into yours.

You're completely exhausted, just how he likes it, voice beyond repair and body succumbed to only him and gravity. He yearns to hurt you, to make you cry, and to make you need him.

This must be it. This must be what it means to have a darling.

[stoned-frog]

Plague- introduction to my Papyrus oc

He was originally created as a variant of Ink Papyrus, or rather a Papyrus counterpart to Ink Sans. He does have a soul and real feelings, differentiating him from Ink. He was given awareness of the Multiverse being a creation of beings higher than him- us, Creators. Plague's personality and his awareness led him to not care about fighting with Ink to protect the Multiverse. Due to that his original Creator abandoned him and he was adopted by me- Stoned Frog. Plague is aware he has a new “guardian” but doesn't know anything about any Creator.

Note: his first Creator isn't any real person it's just a plot point for his character that he was abandoned because his previous creator wanted to have a character more motivated to fight for justice, peace or whatever and remodeled by me to go with the flow of his personality

Here is a little doodle of him meeting my self insert only knowing anything about me from them

Another note: the awareness he's “not real” didn't break his psyche, he still knows all creations are real within his own world so everything is real for him. Creators to him are like gods to us, or guardian angels of sort.

He figured out his guardian doesn't want him dead so he gets into dangerous situations because he knows he has plot armor. And unfortunately he really does and he's abusing that power.

Plague can teleport through dilapidated/ruined things- he can appear out of mold, rot, rubble, magically step out of a collapsed or burned down building so he's always dirty somewhere, he also gets a lot of scratches or bruises so he's covered in colorful bandaids.

Sometimes he would just randomly break the 4th wall, start talking to whoever might be watching him like

“Hey Creator, what's up? Got any plans for me? Hope you're feeling alright, for my sake. I've seen what other creators are capable of when they're sad, so cheer up will ya?”

Or talk to himself but in a way like he's actually talking to someone or just straight up looking at the screen, he just subconsciously knows from which angle he's drawn

And others would just stare at him talking to nothing like “😰”

Overally he's created to be a very silly meta comic relief guy, he's very chill and just does whatever he wants, he doesn't care about fighting anyone or protecting the multiverse, he just wants to experience as much as he can. He's basically homeless, constantly travelling, meeting people and then leaving never to be seen again.

Experimental design, I'm currently working on a new one but just wanted to show my idea for him

[rheydhotts]

Drabbles #1 — Modern Au! Timebomb

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko are first year college students.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx is a chemical engineering major and ekko is a political science and engineering major.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko are academic rivals who can't admit their feelings for each other.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko have study dates sessions every Saturday.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx falls asleep less than an hour in since she's quick to bore due to the fact she knows everything.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko can't help but admire how peaceful she looks while she rests.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko catches himself by mumbling about how lazy jinx is.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko begrudgingly gives her a blanket and moves her notes to make sure she doesn't drool on them.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko takes another photo of her to add to his album, not as blackmail but something to keep him motivated.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx also has photos of him sleeping in her camera roll that she does use as blackmail.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko sometimes paint murals on abandoned walls they find.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko sometimes lets jinx ride his skateboard.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko tries his hardest not to think too much about the fact he's holding her waist so she doesn't eat shit if she falls (and she will)

modern au! timebomb, where jinx puts herself in situations where she's touching ekko or ekko is touching her.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko often brag about getting the better grades or a higher test score even though they aren't studying the same thing. they just want the other to know that they're smarter in their respective topic than the other is in theirs.

modern au! timebomb, where ekko often criticizes jinx for how messy her dorm is.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx keeps it messy just to annoy him since she thinks it's cute.

modern au! timebomb, where jinx and ekko have been dancing around each other since high school.

modern au! timebomb, where it's finally spring break and ekko decides to make a move.

...

can you meet me at the park near the campus? i need to talk to you..

ekko nearly threw his phone out the window after sending that text. his hands were shaking and his nerves were shot at what he was about to do. he's liked her for years now but the thought of possibly changing their relationship terrified him. what if she said no? worse. what if she said yes? what would he do then?

ekko started to get ready, ignoring the cold sweats that would drip from his brow and how shallow his breaths are. he cursed himself for not owning anything more casual. most of his closet was occupied by turtlenecks, sweater vests and button ups. occasionally, there would be a hoodie or two. he decided to go with one of those. a green hoodie with a graphic of a huge tree plastered on the back. and for his pants? he didn't worry too much about those since he only had 2 valid options. jeans and sweats. he went with the jeans. they were acid wash with a few rips below the knees. jinx had made them for him. she originally just accidentally washed them with the whites one time after saying she'll do his laundry for him. she tried to make it look intentional but clearly it wasn't. ekko was pissed but he'll admit, they do look cool.

sure?

y?

watz goin on?

ekko rolled his eyes and smiled when he got her response. though he made fun of her for it, he secretly loved the way she typed. even if it meant spending a few minutes to decide it, the ridiculousness makes him laugh.

nothing. i just want to talk to you

...

um ok

weirdo

be there in 15

and with the finishing touches of his cedarwood cologne, he was out the door.

who has time to write full length fics? — xoxo, rheyd.

[hashimasims]

Apologies for the long post ahead

(that's why I put under a cut lol)

Where do I begin? My name is Minthe Thalzoh and my mother is an Elf and my Father is an Alien!

Wait! Let me start over, sorta, from the beginning.

My father crash landed his ship in my Mother's backyard, one thing led to another and now they're the loves of each other's lives and married. They moved out to Willow Creek to start a family.

ENTER ME!

Wasn't I just the cutest little infant!?!

Anyway . . .

My parents knew even then that I was going to be a genius! Though this could have been because of my mixed species genetics. I hit almost every Milestone ahead of the expected timeline and understood and could do a lot more than a "normal" Infant.

Then I became a Toddler!

Not long after, my sister Kaeleen came around and I didn't get as much of my parent's attention, this upset me understandably but I did know that she was smaller and needed more help. I again met all my milestones and sped through all possible toddler skills before my next Lifestage.

As a child I reached the top of my class within a couple of days and worked through two Aspirations. Mom got pregnant again and gave me another sister, Kira, so I helped Kaeleen as best as I could with all her Milestones and Skills. Soon enough it was time for my next birthday.

Father's distress signal was finally answered (took them long enough!) and his world leaders were sending him - and by extension the rest of us - a rescue shuttle to pick us up and bring us back to Unvahiri. I didn't want to go, I was born on this planet and though traveling to another planet did sound like the adventure of a lifetime I made my case to stay. Father agreed as long as I could pass and graduate high school early and get into college before the shuttle got here. Of course I did it! Did you have any doubts? I got into Foxbury for a Distinguished Degree in Physics and I plan to Minor in Robotics. I even got a full ride! My parents set aside a bit of Simoleons for me once I graduate so I can buy a house and start living the Simlander Dream.

I'm sad to have missed meeting my newest sister, Laryse, in person. She was born on the way to Unvahiri, but I get video transmissions from them from time to time. They hope to make it back for when I graduate but I told them not to worry about it and I would try to set up some sort of recording for them. But that was still a long way away, I still have to pass all my classes first. It's a bit lonely right now but at least I was able to sneak my pet, Voxel, into the Dorm. I think the College Board knows he's here but hasn't said anything - yet.

So without further ado I welcome you to a (my) restart of the Not so Berry Challenge

Beginning|Previous|Next

Watcher's notes: I plan for this to be 99.9% all gameplay based but will try to add in a bit of story here and there for fun but I started this save as a de-compressor for Elucea's story which even though I plan different things and randomly write bits for it (not all will I use obvi) it does get rather tiring some days when I do get into that save file (which probably led to my being more in a building/CAS mood for a bit). I want to actually get through a TRUE challenge for once and I've tried the Not So Berry a couple times and abandoned it but through sharing my Glynnans I have made it to Gen 6 so far and don't plan on stopping so maybe by sharing my NSB gameplay I can complete this challenge for once.

Credits (I will try to remember to leave any pose credits when I use them but I can not guarantee that I will remember since I normally Queue out a scene which a good majority of the time takes 5+ posts and then try to remember to add pose credits when I've finished so I do apologize ahead of time when I inevitable forget same as I have been doing for my story with Elucea):

Minthe and Voxel picture - Cat Travels by @bananasplit-sims

Infant Minthe portrait - Happy Christmas by @simmisstrait

Toddler Minthe portrait - Xmas poses 16 by @simmerianne93

Child Minthe portraits - Family Together by @simmireen

Teen Minthe Portraits - Ordris, Kira, and Shreava (parents with infant) are posed with Portrait Poses 14 by Simmerianne93 Minthe and Kaeleen are posed with Stand By Me (redone) by @talentedtrait

Character Card by @stormistargazer

Minthe's portrait in Character card and banner portrait - F. Model Pt. VI by @sciophobis

[miimo96]

Tbh if this show doesn't get a 2nd season I won't be entirely upset because then they'll get the chance to maybe actually REBOOT the show and do Moon knight real Justice, because the way he was handled in this show was just not right, I mean if you wanted to appeal to a modern audience then you should've just instead either stayed true to his source material OR write him in a way that doesn't really copy other characters and makes him really relatable as well, don't just write him with the same quote unquote "comedic" formula over and over again, ACTUALLY give him a trait that makes him distinguishable and likable from other characters

for example If there's 1 thing I love about Moon knight, it's the Shit that comes out his mouth 🤣 like the guy is so random and weird that it actually makes for some great comedic moments, like I know they're just Memes but some of the shit here is so good that I HONESTLY wish it was part of his character, because it just fits SO WELL, not to mention his supernatural side is SO interesting, people tend to forget that moon knight isn't just a street level hero, he actually fights demons and monsters as well

Hell his 1st appearance was in Werewolf by night issue #32, not mention he has ties to other supernatural characters like Blade, the midnight sons and of course, the Infamous DRACULA, I feel like they really misunderstood Moon knight because he's not just Marvel's batman or Egyptian indiana Jones, if he anything he's Marvel's local Crazy person; he's a loose Canon who is willing to do anything to win in a fight, a character who is so Unpredictable that TASKMASTER is scared to fight him, a character that is so complex that his LITERAL nickname is Looney Mooney, and a character that is so obscure, that the entire premise of his books keep changing. I feel like if you wanted to make a Moon knight show, then you should've had just dived into his weird /Supernatural aspect more rather than abandoning it almost entirely and ended up sticking to his grounded side, like have him start off with fighting regular criminals and then lean into/ introduce some of his supernatural enemies like Demons, Gods, monsters, and Vamps, just to keep things more interesting, in fact HE should've been our introducing to the Supernatural in the MCU, Not Blade, not ghost rider or Whoever they originally did it with, if Strange is the mystical, Spiderman is the street level, then Moon knight should've been Supernatural

hell if ya really wanted to ya could've just probably had him go up against ancient Egyptian cult like worshippers like Sun king and Ra, that way you can still do the whole Avatar thing and have it make more sense especially for a power vs similar powers type play story with Marc being the Avatar for the MOON God and Sun king the avatar for SUN God, and with both coincidently happening to be Birds (what can I say I'm a simple guy lol )

Another thing I really wish that they could've done more would be playing more into Marc's and Konshu's relationship and had it FEEL like whether he was really real, or just a figment of Marc's imagination, like NOW you can't do that so that's out the question, but if they did I'd probably have it like he's just a voice in Spector's head telling him to quote unquote enact his "Righteous" vengeance upon people, I mean you can still probably play it off like with Marc seeing him and stuff like that and just give us the idea that if he's REALLY there or that if it's just another part of Marc's imagination, like have him really struggle with what's real and what isn't, like Did he make Konshu up or something like that when he died, or was it truly real? I think the big interesting thing about Moon knight is his Mentality and how he struggles with his other personalities and reality, all while he tries to not seem Batshit Crazy, in fact I feel like instead of going with Steven grant or any of his personalities to start off the show, they should've have went with marc himself and introduced his personalities later episodes or even start it with him as moon knight and slowly give us his origins through flashbacks so we can at least see how he got to this point

Finally i think they should've handled his power set a little better, don't get me wrong I love the idea they went with his suit being ancient armor and giving him unlimited moonerangs and weapons and whatnot but the thing that makes Moon knight REALLY cool is that he's just a guy in a suit, giving him actual Powers was a big mistake because then it takes away from all the urgency and suspense we could have if the possibility of him dying could happen, having him not being able to be Stabbed or killed was just crazy because then it makes him F*cking INVINCIBLE, mortality is what we love to see in our character's because then we can both relate and root for them when they're stuck in situations, making him invulnerable basically takes away from that and doesn't really make him all that interesting, don't get me wrong you can still give him powers if ya want, just don't make it like that if he's effing invincible or can fly like Superman though, instead have it be more like he gets Enhanced strength, speed, and durability from the moon God Konshu, that way he still can have powers and be hurt at the same time, and if or when he finally loses his powers, either by something or if Konshu's completely done with him, you can have him then Make his own moon knight suit and still be a vigilante, that way you still have Moon knight and he's more like his comic accurate self. Maybe even have the show be something like about if he still wants to be Konshu's disciple /Puppet or if he wants to just be done with everything and then have him have this whole character arc and realize that he still DOES want to do this but NOT as a servant to Konshu, he wants to act HIS righteous vengeance on people, not just be controlled to do it, he wants to protect people because he's the only who can and no else can do the job except him, tbh, that would've made for a WAY better show than what we got, hopefully they can still do it with all the popularity moon knight's been getting lately, but lemme know what you guys think, do ya agree or should they just leave things as it is?

[theunknown-void]

SURE!

What's your au about?

Beholder AU

Basically, back on Cybertron being a Rescue Bot was a growing occupation. And to make sure that the newly graduated bots knew what they were doing, for the first 1,000 rescue missions they went on they had a supervisor with them. This supervisor is either an currently active rescue bot, or a former rescue bot/teacher.

Chase, Blades, and Boulder were a team of three young rescue bots(they are between 1,400-1,600 years old.) All three of them were built for rescue work and don't really know anything other than that. When the three graduated they were placed with their supervisor Heatwave, a professor at the academy.

Heatwave is significantly older than the three(I haven't decided his exact age yet, but old enough that as sparklings he and Orion Pax/Optimus were good friends. Hes also significantly taller, being only a few feet shorter than Optimus) Unlike the three he was not built for rescue work, he was built for combat. He fought in a few small civil wars and or skirmishes. Eventually though wars stopped happening and Heatwave was thrown into the gladiator pits where he stayed for years. After some time he escaped the pits and joined the academy where he graduated, carried out quite a few missions, then became a teacher.(If you can't tell Heatwave is both my favorite bot and the character that is most developed in this AU at the moment.) Due to Heatwave once being a warrior, he has built in weapons systems.

On their 999th mission, they receive a distress call. The four find an abandoned Cybertron ship, and an energon eater. This mission goes almost exactly the same to how it went in the show; they had to go into stasis, Heatwave programed the Sigma to reactivate when they got a priority prime message, they didn't get one until Optimus Prime sent one out. When they land on earth Optimus greets them. Boulder is extremely exited at the prospect of earth because he had never been to an organic planet before. Blades is terrified to stay on earth because its nothing like Cybertron. Chase is mildly interested and wishes to read up on Earth laws before making any decisions. Heatwave is more confused than anything because who the scrap decided to make Orion Pax a Prime?(He knows how much trouble Orion used to get into when he was younger.) They all push their ship into a warehouse where Optimus explains what happened to Cybertron to the bots. Ofc they're devastated. Privately Heatwave asks Optimus what they're going to do with Chase, Blades, and Boulder, because the three had never seen war before. Optimus agrees that they can't send those bots out into war, so he calls agent fowler. When Fowler gets to the warehouse Boulder is the most giddy to meet him. Optimus explains what's happening and asks Fowler to find a place that the rescue bots can continue to be rescue bots. Now Fowler knows someone from his days in the military, the someone was a police chief now. And that someone was Chief Charlie Burns.

Blah, blah, blah, they all scan new vehicles and meet Chief. Blah, blah, blah.

Heatwave stays with the bots, as this would be their 1,000th mission and he wants to make sure everything works out and that they are protected.

In this AU everyone would act practically the same as canon out in the open. But behind closed doors or alone this is how they would act(some closer to canon than others.)

Chase(He/him): He would be actively trying to learn everything he possibly could about the Laws of Earth. The fact that when Heatwave does eventually leave he will become leader slowly eats away at him until he becomes a walking ball of stress

Alt mode: Dodge Charger pursuit vehicle

Blades(They/them): Blades would be quite home sick, more so than the rest of the group, so they would turn to other things like television to calm down. They would soon come out of their shell and be more open with people. They're not scared of heights, just flying. They would miss their wheels being planted firmly on the ground.

Alt mode: single man rotor helicopter

Boulder(He/him): Of course Boulder would miss home, but he would be super exited about Earth and its wildlife. He would research as much as he possibly could, frequently watching documentaries and or reading all the book he could get his hands on. Eventually he became super knowledgeable about earth and is the bot the rest turn too if they have questions about earth.

Alt Mode: Wheeled Bulldozer

Heatwave(He/it): Heatwave would be the mentor figure of the bots. At first they would be shocked at how he acted around Kade, but they would soon learn that it was more relaxed. Heatwave tries his best to teach the bots about things, and sometimes it becomes useful. It's the bot the rest turn to when they need help mentally or physically. He's very protective of the other bots and would beat itself up is something ever happened to them.

Alt Form: Triple Combination Pumper(Fire engine)

The humans are practically the same and they grow over time. They and the bots become like family after a longer period of time than they do in the show.

I'm still finalizing details, so if you guys have any ideas, please do share!!

[noxcheshire]

No keep going

This is what I live for 🤌🏼

I’m trying to think on how the batfam find out that Damian had been sabotaging their leads for his own gain.

Did he make a mistake?

Or did one of the siblings (going off of previous comments let’s say Tim) noticed how odd Damian had been.

A little too quiet, a little too eager to linger against the shadows to listen in on their search — and when they turn, digging to understand why the new kid who had showed nothing but hostility to Danny suddenly became as silent as the grave?

Oh, the anger and heartache.

Maybe deep down everyone had hoped that perhaps Damian had taken their scolding’s to heart, their insistence and proof of their own love for Danny, to heart. Now they saw that wasn’t the case.

Damian had his own agenda to make.

When it is brought to everyone else’s attention, what face will they make? What acts will they take?

Because they had been running themselves ragged trying to find their youngest brother, only to find out that everything they had looked into was nothing more than a falsehood.

Damian won’t give in, he refused to.

He is very willing to cut where he must to be rid of Danny for good.

And Bruce… Bruce looks back at the spitting image of Danny. Yet can’t find even a little bit of Danny there.

Danny has never made that face before, of someone whose willing to burn to see their way through. Of someone willing and eager to sink their claws down and drag out the last breath of something they perceived —

Danny had always been a shy child. Hesitant, but hopeful.

He was a loving child.

One who had smiled like the sun when his siblings helped to hang up stars on the ceiling of his room.

One that dogged Tim’s footsteps with big, guileless, blue eyes as the elder boy spun tales for a child that was never allowed to be.

One that clung to Dick’s back, giggling into black hair when the eldest would dramatically turn on his heels, playing pretend just to hear Danny laugh.

One that curled up at Cass’s legs like a kitten that had a long day and wanted a moment of companionship, tiny and small, tucked by an old used blanket that Cass had seen better days with.

Danny couldn’t even sleep well unless someone cuddled him to sleep.

Damian was none of those things.

But Bruce still searched for something familiar, anything that could make the heat in his chest cool to a simmer, and then he sees it.

That faint shadow in Damian’s eyes that sometimes Danny got too, if he was alone for too long.

It was a shadow of fear, of hesitance, and uncertainty.

No one ever never knew why Danny always had that look in his eyes, but it was the reason why everyone would assure that Danny was never left alone. They didn’t want him to linger on sad things, terrible things, things that made him hide around the manor for hours even while they called for him frantically.

Bruce willed himself to calm even while his children argued amongst themselves, their shadows heavy and long even where Damian stood glowering back tensely at them.

“There will be consequence for this,”

Bruce’s voice broke through the noise and the room fell into tense silence.

“What you have been doing, there will be consequence for it, Damian.” Bruce made sure that this time, Damian would only hear the stern, disappointment from him. He could see the way the boy tensed at the tone, back straight and at attention.

“Danny will be returning to this family — alive. Safe. And unharmed, physically or mentally. After that…”

Bruce wasn’t even sure what to do, truth be told. What can he do with years of taught hate like this?

“We will return to this.”

Bruce turns away, returning to his search for Danny.

The children wait, silent, before shuffling after him in an eagerness to pick up the search with better results.

Dick is the only one to lean into Bruce, muttering a soft, complicated, “B,”

“I know,” he shoots back. “But not right now. Danny has been out there for too long,” and that is the truth.

Danny had been gone for far too long. So much longer than a kid his age should be.

He might have grown up part of the LoA, but he had been so very young when Bruce had extracted him out, bleeding and slowly dying in his arms.

Danny, once safe from Death’s embrace, from there had lived far more like a civilian child.

Bruce had wanted him to, and Danny for his part, was far too willing to be that child.

He feared what sort of situations Danny could be experiencing out in the world now, just a kid, all by himself, hurting and hungry.

The fact that all their progress had some form of sabotage didn’t help Bruce’s mounting frustration. They would all have to scrape everything they had found and go through everything again with a fine tooth comb just to make sure there were no discrepancies.

Months passed that way, retracing every step to see where things had gone wrong.

Months of rerouting every clue and every path Danny might have taken before it had been wiped clean.

Months that led to sleepless nights, and Bruce still reeling in a tumbling daydream of all horrific possibilities when he heard Flash speaking.

He had been tuning the other man out for days now. He had been doing that for everyone, really.

But something the man said made him shake off the constant voices to actually look at the man.

He was grinning excitedly, vibrating as he swung a picture around towards Bruce like one would swing a treat in front of a dog.

Bruce, Batman, scowled.

“I’m telling ya, Bats! He looks like he could be one of yours!” Flash laughs, and finally allows Batman to see.

Batman, Bruce, lunges.

Flash yells in surprise, quickly moving to the other side of the room just before Batman’s fingers could graze across his collarbone.

Bruce snarls.

That was Danny.

That was Danny.

“Take me to him. Now.”

He laid there on the ground, letting the cold sink into his bones as he bled out. Deep down, Danny had known for a long time this was coming. He was the Shadow, the Spare. The Inferior. He'd always been the shame of his family. After all, what good was an assassin that didn't kill?

That's why he knew it'd only be a matter of time before Grandfather got rid of him. He just never expected it to be like this. Struck down by his own brother. In hindsight, it made sense. It was a way for Damian to be completely initiated before his first mission and to cut off the rotted rope of the Al Ghul line.

It made sense, Danny repeated to himself, but it didn't stop the hurt. The pain that cut deeper than the sword to his gut. Damian hadn't even hesitated. He'd picked up his weapon and charged as soon as Grandfather had told them to begin the duel. Sure, he'd known Damian was never too fond of him. And maybe sometimes he'd thrown knives at Danny whenever he called him "Dami". But he always thought there was at least some form of affection between them. After all, they were twins. Yet Damian had ran him through as easily as breathing. He hadn't even spared a glance back as he left with Grandfather and Mother. None of them had.

Danny couldn't help but weakly chuckle. To think this was how his second death would go. Being stabbed by his own brother.

As his consciousness began to fail him, Danny distantly heard was sounded like a plane. Maybe a jet. He heard once that people can hallucinate before they died. Funny, he always figured he'd hear a train or something. Maybe a family member calling his name sweetly. Instead Danny heard heavy footsteps charging towards him. Gloved hands picked him up and held him close to a chest as an unknown voice whispered, "I've got you."

Ah, he realized what was happening. This was his mind's desperate attempt to give him some comfort in his final moments. It was nice, feeling cared for like this. He couldn't remember the last time he had been. Danny quietly thanked his mind for the blissful illusion, before his consciousness fully faded away.

(Bruce finds out he has a son and goes to rescue him. He gets there just in time to stop Danny from bleeding out and leaves, not knowing he's leaving his other son behind.)

[thechildbesuffering]

au where lbd is not killed at the end of season 3, but instead stripped of her powers and effectively turned human. she'd get to see the world from a mortal's perspective and further understand mk and the others' notions regarding the world's imperfections. i also want her to work at pigsy's in place of mk when he's training or not present. and you can't tell me that she would find a favorite pass time after a while. she'll sound hypocritical insulting people's "sentimentality for mortal pleasures".

[winepresswrath]

what louis did to lestat and what louis did to armand are connected and that's important to the story but also. it is simply not the same. nothing louis did excuses armand's behaviour, that's not how anything works, but he did not "cross a line" or "poke at armand," he weaponized armand's history of abuse to belittle and demean him. nothing armand said to louis came close- the equivalent would have been "oooh, i'm such a stupid bitch that my husband can beat me half to death and i'll keep crawling back for more even when it endangers my daughter!" it's retraumatizing and deeply destabilizing to hear that shit from your partner. and in response armand should have been like "well this man sucks when he's high and he's high all the time, so i'm bouncing" but if he'd done that we wouldn't have a story, would we?

edit: i've come back to give armand credit for "claudia didn't love you like we did/do. ps. u used her to distract from your own hurt feelings" that shit does hit in a similar way. however "the ways someone hurt you have left you contemptible and weak. they scrawled 'dirty and annoying' all over your soul in red ink and it's never coming off" is just outstanding work. timeless

[charlotterenaissance]

baffling decision for season 2, episode 18 to end with lewis making a legit effort for charlotte, making a picnic of things she likes and hugging her and seeming really happy with her

only for episode 19 to trample all over that with him blowing her off after she mentions that she misses him and hasn't seen him for a while, then apparently forgetting he even has a girlfriend altogether and softly flirting with his ex while the narrative agrees that this is correct because, unlike charlotte, cleo always smiles when she first sees lewis. you know. unlike charlotte. who goes out of her way to try and make lewis happy and smiles literally every time she sees him. there's not even an episode between these!

[dreamlogic]

aye can i get a fuckin uuuhhhh

break. on my burger

[worstloki]

been thinking of Loki as a vengeful ghost/demon that tries to kill Thor after dying on Jotunheim except instead of killing Thor straightup Thor's on a quest following a trail of weird clues and strange happenings across multiple realms sort of? so Loki is just leading him around not showing himself but very much heartbroken in the distance about how Thor just 'moved on'. Meanwhile on Thor's end it's very evident in how Thor handles quests once Loki is gone that he still follows all the advice and suggestions Loki made, and tries to consider what Loki would have done when he does things.

[agirlinthegalaxy]

It's been rolling around in my brain the last few days for some reason, but I still hate the family backstory reveals for Sophie and Eliot. I've seen some of the meta for it, but quite frankly, it still makes no sense. If it had been something actually thought of and intentional in the original, I think it could have been so fascinating. I mean, Sophie's willing abandonment of Astrid to contrast with Nate's loss of Sam or Eliot's adoption in contrast with Hardison's and Parker's? Could have been excellent! But they came out of nowhere in Redemption and don't work with these characters.

Sophie was still actively using the fucking alias that she met Astrid under! She met with someone from her past on the show! Like. Quite frankly, that one is unequivocally bullshit that they made up and threw in and pretended could fit with the established canon. (And I'm sorry, but the idea of Sophie abandoning Astrid and never telling Nate about her just... So much of Nate's trauma was rooted in the loss of Sam, and I think that introducing this element after he's gone and unable to respond to it taints Sophie and Nate's relationship in a way bc I'm not exactly sure how Nate would've responded to learning about this but I think that it's something he'd have needed to know. I don't know how to fully express my thoughts on that but yeah.)

As for Eliot, I don't like the adoption aspect literally at all. The way that he would interact with his family and the memory of his family would be different, and I think that it's flat out ridiculous to think that he'd have never mentioned it to the team in the original show, especially when dealing with the kid cases. (I also dislike the biracial adoption as its own element because if Eliot was actually raised by Black parents in the... idk what 80s/90s? That just. doesn't feel congruent with how they write Eliot interacting with PoC, not necessarily in a bad way, but babe, he's written like a white southern man raised in a specific kind of culture that does not jell with that. It also makes Eliot look... really bad that he was apparently raised with the knowledge of how fucked up the military was and his parents' history and made the choices that he did.) Like the show may not have explicitly stated it but the implication of that relationship was vastly fucking different throughout the original show.

Just. These were not backstories that were congruent with their depiction and characters in the original show, and they're also just moves that I don't particularly like or find interesting directions for those characters. There's also something to be said about how it was apparently unacceptable for a woman to not have kids or someone not reconciling with their biological family when that was something that the original show handled a lot better. Out of all the directions to take Sophie and Eliot's stories, that's just not really one that I think was a good idea.

[llycaons]

lwj CAN be petty and jealous but the actual main reason he hates jc is because he thinks jc fucking killed wwx and because jc continues to harass, threaten, mock, and humiliate wwx so nice fucking try but no, media comprehension failed on this day

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol