#Man trying to fill in plot holes to their own story

[sunnywalnut]

The reason I have religious trauma fr

Look, we joke a lot, but really, "you were born evil, wretched, worse than the scum of the earth, and it took killing a god to make you salvageable, so now you'd better be grateful to that god and thank him 10,000 times a day for it and fill your thoughts with him 24/7 and abide by the letter of his every word, lest you suffer unimaginable torture for all of eternity" is a truly horrendous thing to believe about yourself and other people

[hellfire--cult]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}

Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}

WC: 13.1 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.

Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.

A wolf.

A fox.

A blank face.

A goat.

A clown.

There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 

He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.

Tonight, his name was Demon.

He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.

Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 

There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 

“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.

“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”

The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 

“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”

The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 

“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 

And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.

“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.

The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.

Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.

“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 

He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 

Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 

Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 

She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.

So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 

But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.

She was going to be his, no matter the cost.

“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 

And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 

The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 

Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.

You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 

Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.

Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.

“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 

“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.

This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 

And he was more than happy to oblige.

“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.

“She will.”

The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.

“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”

At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 

He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 

The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 

After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.

BANG.

His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.

“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 

Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 

One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 

His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 

He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 

“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 

“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.

“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.

“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 

So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.

“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 

“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 

“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.

He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 

“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.

“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.

His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.

He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.

SNAP. CRACK.

“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.

“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 

“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 

“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 

The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.

Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.

He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 

The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.

He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.

“You should come down from the trees.”

A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.

“Your ears are very perceptive.” 

 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 

“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.

“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.

“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.

“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.

Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.

His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.

He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.

Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.

He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.

He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.

“Caught you.” 

Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.

“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.

You.

“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.

Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.

“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 

“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.

“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.

“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.

“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 

His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 

“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 

You’re free.

Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.

The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 

You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.

Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.

“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.

Like a small bunny.

“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 

“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.

“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 

“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 

“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”

“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 

Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.

Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 

You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 

His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.

He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 

His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 

He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 

“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”

“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 

“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”

You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.

“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.

“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.

“Wh–”

“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.

He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.

“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.

“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.

“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.

Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.

“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 

He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.

You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.

Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.

Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.

“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.

He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 

He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 

You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.

Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.

His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 

He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.

“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.

He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 

You were now part of his home.

A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.

His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.

“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.

“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 

“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 

“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.

“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.

“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 

SMACK.

You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.

Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.

Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.

“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.

“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.

“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 

He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 

His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.

“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 

And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.

His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 

Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 

“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.

“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.

“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.

“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.

He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 

He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 

You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 

He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 

“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 

“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”

He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.

“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.

“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.

“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 

“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.

He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.

“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.

“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.

Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.

“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 

“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.

“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.

“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.

You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.

Your new home.

“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.

“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.

“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 

“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.

“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.

“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.

“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.

“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.

“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”

“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.

“I’m the hunter next year.”

“He’s all yours.”

Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.

Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?

REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.

A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.

[constantfragmentation]

HI FELLOW SILCO ENJOYER

What are your thoughts on the polycule theory of felicia-silco-vander? 👀

Whew... where to begin?

Fair warning, this is going to be a long assessment.

First off, I firmly believe (unless S2 Act 3 makes me eat my words), that the writers didn't realize Silco and Vander would become such popular characters. I don't think that was the plan. They were side characters meant to beef up the main stars Jinx and Vi. Rightly so. They were devised as parallels for Vi and Jinx throughout the story. And it was beautiful.

S1 was filled with little details that enhanced every part of the plot and character development through each act.

However, if S/V were so important, more care would have been put into their backstories, which have been kept pretty vague. And these so-called continuity mistakes/plotholes seem pretty big for a studio that has been meticulous in the details all through S1.

We meet Vander, who changes his life after seeing the kids lose their parents and adopts them. Vander is seen as the builder and leader of the Underground, and he seems to lead with the threat of who he used to be (until Sevika calls his ass out).

Silco is introduced as the mean baddie immediately via Vander/Benzo's conversation in E1.

"There's worse things than Enforcers out there. We both know that."

Then his full intro including an underground evil lair and mad scientist at the end of E1.

E2 leans into the same MO for Silco. Until finally coming to the best episode (IMO) in all of S1 and it's E3, where things come to light. But he's still evil, vicious and spares no one. Silco appears to have zero empathy and is filled with a deep seeded hate.

"Silco?! You animal! Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!"

S1E1-3 Silco completely paints him as terrible from the Underground's perspective. Silco - bad. Vander - good. Both Vander and Benzo see Silco as a dangerous threat. So does the rest of the Underground feel the same? Do they know about what happened to Silco by Vander's hands? Sevika chooses him because she lost faith in Vander as a leader.

So, that makes me wonder if Silco WAS the brains behind everything from their smuggling business and building up the Underground to the rebellion. Vander on his own, seemingly, isn't shit. He is the muscle. WIthout the brains, he doesn't haven much in planning so he turns to making a deal with Enforcers instead.

By S1E3, we start to see beyond the veil a bit. Vander tried to drown and murder Silco. Let's remember one thing. Vander didn't just try to shoot Silco or they got into a fist fight and things got out of hand.

He tried to DROWN him. There's no way Silco went with Vander to the river fearing his life. Now, whether they went to talk in private and it got heated, you still have to sit back and look at Young!Vander and think wtf?

He is painted the good guy from the beginning. A man with restraint and compassion, looking out for everyone and especially his 'kids'.

It takes will and strength to smother/drown a person. It is NOT a quick death, it's a slow and painful death. Vander's intent was to kill him. Not once, did Vander think in the minutes holding Silco underwater that damn, this is wrong or overkill? You don't flippantly say "I'll never forgive myself" for trying to murder you slowly. Now beating the shit out of him and ruining his eye, yeah, that would make more sense from Vander, knowing he probably turned Silco into this worse person and fucked up his face, vision forever.

The viewer is left to assume it was something so fucking bad, Vander had to kill to stop it. Plus, Silco is already painted as the bad guy, so we presume Vander was right in trying to kill him?

So, what was so bad that this course of action was required? Well, it's pretty damn vague. In all of E3, Felicia isn't mentioned or hinted at ONCE. Not once. If Vander tried to kill Silco because of her, why do we not learn about any of it?? That seems like a pretty important fact, yes? This is Vi/Jinx's mom and she was a close friend? I'd say that's important.

Nope. Silco drags Vander to his lair and waxes on about fighting Piltover and finally realizing his dream of a free Zaun by any means.

Vander tells Silco he's never forgiven himself for trying to kill him, but nothing else is added to it? We're left to believe that Silco was either too powerful and influential in Zaun or that he orchestrated the bridge fight (that Vander was still fighting until the kids arrive and they see their dead parents).

This grey area is why the fandom has spent years trying to decipher what was so bad that it tore two brothers apart with attempted murder.

We learn in S2, Vander apparently "looked everywhere" for Silco and then wrote him a letter in a mine, hoping Silco might come across it. Well, if your brother tried to murder you, I'd say you would stay far away from him and not venture to old places in case he might try it again? Sounds reasonable, yes?

So Vander just gave up trying to talk to Silco and explain everything for YEARS? By S1E1 he and Benzo know about Silco and probably know where he is and that he's up to no good obviously. So why haven't they talked once in years?

Vander said he was in a rage over Felicia's death. But I'm sorry, none of that makes much sense and frankly takes the fire out of what created the fracture between two friends.

I would have preferred Riot not explain than give us a half-assed backstory of three happy-go-lucky buddies and the death of one is the backbone of hate, distrust and betrayal.

Again, Silco said Vander BETRAYED him. If they were arguing about Felicia and her partner dying, leaving kids orphaned, I don't call that betrayal. Vander's letter sounds like an argument that got out of hand. You don't just accidentally drown your best friend for the greater good because your other friend died in a fight ALL of you were fighting. You knew people would get hurt and/or die. It's reality.

It just doesn't FIT. It doesn't fit these characters at all in the narrative from S1.

Another reason I believe Riot never intended to go further with Silco and Vander's backstory is in the animation. Like I said above, S1 was littered with little and amazing details that we, as the viewer, have been analyzing for years.

The drowning was a VERY young Silco and Vander. Vander clearly has a beard and looks much older on the bridge in E1. The flashback in E3 looks like it was 10 years earlier at LEAST. That would be around the time Vi was born or a toddler if we're estimating her age by S1E1 on the bridge.

Vander beat the shit out of him and then decided to kill him by drowning. THAT is a major choice to make. That is a vicious choice. So we do see Vander as being more violent in his youth. So if the drowning came AFTER the bridge, that also doesn't quite fit either. He takes the kids and chooses pacifism, yet soon after, he's murdering his best friend. AND he suddenly shaved and grew younger, because he wanted to look clean and pretty before killing his bestie?

Zero continuity here. Bad writing. If there was mistake due to animation, they should have changed the backstory to fit than ramrod something else that looks badly done and makes zero sense to your audience.

Personally, I wish the drowning was PRIOR to the bridge battle.

It would make more sense if Vander was having second thoughts while planning the bridge fight. Maybe a separate attack went wrong and he realized they were going to lose and many would die. Silco, maybe having more influence or threatening to show Vander as a coward to the people is what finally triggers Vander to kill him. In order to stop this, Silco needs to die and then maybe Vander can convince others the fight is already lost against a superior firepower.

To kill Silco in that manner, signals to me, Silco was a great threat. Which means to me, Vander either felt he was a threat to him (since Vander does become the power in the Underground - the Hound) or he is beginning to feel like this fight is pointless and will change nothing. People will die for nothing.

Making it all about Felicia, just takes the fire out of rift between these two men all these years.

Again, she's never mentioned.

Silco even reflects in S1E3 that he still respected Vander after the drowning until he learned Vander was working with Enforcers and basically made a deal with Topside to keep the peace. That continues his pathway as a rebel and he's going to take down Vander with it or use him "what you really are".

Silco knows how violent Vander was and he's going to use it with Shimmer.

If we go by S2 timeline, then both Silco and Vander would know Felicia's kids well before the bridge battle. in S1, Silco would know who Vi is, at least and be aware of Powder. He would know this by S1E3 when he says "Have you heard the rumour? Vander the coward fled town with his children and were never seen again."

Pretty callous talking about his other bestie's kids like that. Damn. If Silco cared for her, then wouldn't he spare her kids? I just don't see this was ever about Felicia. It doesn't fit. He really didn't flinch in having Vi or any of the kids killed. HER kids? I'm having a hard time with that one.

I've said before that in Silco's eyes, Vi is an extension of Vander. When he finds Powder and she cuts off Vi as her sister, Jinx becomes an extension of himself, thus HIS daughter. It's like Silco's last "fuck you" to Vander by taking Felicia's other daughter as his own.

Overall, I hope to hell it's not some love triangle. Or either man was in love or had a crush on her.

I read some fans saying since the flashbacks are Vander's in S2, we're seeing things from his perspective. I'm all for an unreliable narrator with characters because it keeps things open for interpretation.

But we would need to see this from Silco's perspective, too—not just the drowning/betrayal. Silco sees this as a major factor in the direction his character takes. It's a life-changing moment for him.

We also don't see any flashbacks to the years Silco took care of Jinx after Vander's death. If he knew Jinx's mom, wouldn't that come up? Wouldn't that be something Jinx would remember and influence her?

In S2, she reminisces a few memories of her mom like nothing has happened since. She and Vi act like nothing really happened between them. By the end of S1, the sisters diverge when Jinx decides who she will be. It's Jinx, not Powder. She knows Silco loved her and, more importantly, accepted her for who she was. She was perfect in his eyes.

Plus, Vander's trio flashback seems odd in both animation and backstory choices. Silco looks VERY different than his flashback of the drowning. His hair is much longer (man bun), he has a widow's peak he doesn't have later (weird). He appears to care for Felicia and happy for her being a mom. They made him more physically attractive and older than the flashback in S1E3.

Vander doesn't look like the younger version in Silco's drowning flashback. He looks older too. Animation choices were made that don't match the continuity of the previous season.

We're assuming their smuggling business is doing well if Felicia talks about the Underground being much better for everyone. Are we still giving Vander full credit for that? S1 implies Vander built the Underground both from Grayson and Zaunites.

Silco jokes he is "Bozo #1". To me, he is joking but not in saying he's the mastermind in this duo. Without him, Vander's just a brute.

I'm not sure of Vi's age by S1E1, but maybe she's 10 or 12? So prior to the battle unless a fallout happened with Vander and Silco, why don't we see Silco with the kids? Why do the kids act like they don't know him? If they were such a tight trio with Felicia, why only Vander with the kids?

He fought at the bridge knowing Felicia had two young kids that could be orphaned and was still fighting when the kids showed up. He already knew Felicia was dead but was still fighting.

If her death was too much, why didn't he stop then? The kids appreance stopped him. Okay. I get that. But we don't see Silco anywhere on that bridge, does he know she dead? Is he still fighting? Where is he?

This whole polycule feels like they had to throw it in somewhere but didn't adequately explain it to match the motivations of the characters we have known and studied. It opens more plothole questions than it answers. It creates more problems that did not need to be there.

If Felicia wasn't that important to expand on last season, why do it now and do it poorly that contradicts characterizations already laid down in the whole previous season?

I'll say it again and again: Riot did not plan for it. They didn't think Vander and especially Silco would be so popular, and fans would demand to know more about them.

Plus, another thing that kind of bugged me:

When Vi is embracing Warwick/Vander and tells Jinx "He's your dad too."

Yeah, it's a nice moment, but it's a shit on Silco too. Technically, didn't JInx have more years with Silco than Vander? She saw Silco as her father (although not the best), accepted her, encouraged her skills, gave her important jobs, wouldn't give her up and called her perfect in his dying words.

I guess fuck that dad, right? He is evil dad and now he's dead, doesn't matter anymore.

Did anyone else feel like Jinx turned back into Powder this season? The kicker in S1, is that she CHOSE to be Jinx. IDK. The sisters were real quick to hook back up after everything.

As I've said before, they needed maybe three seasons if they were going this route. No character is getting enough time this season for good story-telling and character development. Too much is getting crammed in one season and it's sad because there is SO much story to work with.

I, for one, would watch another season of these characters. You could take time to explain the Black Rose and Mel's story. Ekko has nothing this season. Jayce doesn't have much. There's very little explaining and too many new questions that won't get answered in one season.

Vi became an Enforcer for half a second. Granted Caitvi only knew each other for maybe a week so for their 'relationship' to fall apart doesn't surprise me. But Cait bouncing back and forth. Jinx bouncing back immediately after Silco's death doesn't make sense since he wasn't the cause of her mental illness.

"Silco didn't create Jinx. You did."

Sister's bond quickly like nothing happened between them. Sevika is suddenly on Jinx's side with little work considering they disliked each so much.

Intro of a new character, Isha.

Viktor turns into Jesus and hangs out in the Big Bang with Sky. I was waiting for Machine Herald and got Jesus Herald.

Ambessa could have a better story but again, I think they needed at least one more season to flesh everything out. It's all too fast and packing way too much into one season of plot for so many characters. The sister's reunion is too fast. We don't get enough info on Warwick yet.

I hope, but they can't tie all this up in three more episodes.

Sorry for the mental vomit, but I've been thinking about this all week, and now it's out like verbal diarrhea. Even though I've enjoyed this season, I can't help but feel disappointed. S1 was so much better.

[rainderthesomeone]

Hot take and possibly controversial opinion…

I think chapter 4 left a lot to be desired, there are still a lot of plot holes regarding Leith peair, Stella and all others responsible for this, Pianosaurs was underutilized, the Yarnaby section was crammed together and very scripted, the Doctor was rushed to the side very quickly, it just feels like there was so much left out and I find it hard to believe everything will be resolved in chapter 5 unless that chapter is going to be 5 hours long XD

Pianosaurs should have been bigger and should have had his own boss fight a short one that was rhythm based with the clashing of keys signaling different attacks, and when he’s weakened enough Doey comes in and eats him that way we can see how ruthless Doey can be.

Yarnabys section should have been more tense and creepy in my opinion.

Huggy showing up was an interesting plot hole, and cliffhanger, Chapter Four for me is alright, great story, just a little rushed and filled with some poorly scripted segments…

Now to the meat and potatoes of this post, Harley aka the Doctor, the man who helped in the creation of the bigger bodies project, the man who actively tested on kids and felt no remorse, the man who actively thought his experiments were flawless as well as the procedure of it all, is working with the prototype? For a egotistical and narcissistic man as him that felt out of no where, zero mention or leading up to it at all, just offhandedly mentioned by Doey and Ollie felt very lazy and forced, personally I was hoping for him to be his own operating entity and not connected to the prototype, Poppy literally says to us in chapter three that Catnap is the last obstacle the prototype has for us, I mean I guess she didn’t know the doctor was still alive or around but Doey and Ollie do so how come there was no mention of that prior?

Im probably being very nitpickey again this is indie horror and its not the most refined of content sine half the audience is children who only watch brain rot videos of it, but mob set up a very good and renewed starting point in chapter three, for chapter four to be slightly mid at best with it’s gameplay, it felt like we were heading in a good direction for poppy playtime to take over Bendy’s spot since the new games meatly is making are in development limbo, once they come out they will probably be bangers.

Anyway back to the doctor and all the other segments that should have gone in a better direction.

Mob should have had the Doctor as this slightly antagonistic hermit character, a man who thought he was in disposable for playtime co, a man who thought he had all the cards in his hands, to be blindsided and tossed out and shoved into a monitor to only be used for information, would probably be more reclusive and agitated as well as tired, he wouldn’t be a ally nor a good guy since there’s no way to excuse all the horrible things he’s done, but he wouldn’t have a side either, his trust and loyalty to others would probably have been destroyed, he wouldn’t be killed off either, think of Glados by the end of portal 2 she just wants us gone, this version of Harley would be the same, he just wants everyone gone and to stop pestering him, plus it would leave him open for any possibility’s of coming back, and maybe there would be some development for him, especially for the prototype, he wouldn’t admit it but deep down he regrets its creation and sees it as the failure of man kind some kinda Jurassic park what have we done shit.

He would very much operate like Glados, throwing things at us to see if they’ll kill us, leading us to things that can probably kill us, once he sees no way of getting rid of us he begrudgingly slightly helps us get us to his location while also continuing to try and kill us, basically some very confusing morals, and then the big boss fight would play out differently how I’m not sure yet, but the doctor would give us an option, shut off his life support system aka his brain, killing him and taking the Omni hand, or spare him, the sparing route would give us a longer chapter and segment with him, he wouldn’t give up his Omni hand but he would show the player how to make there own, it’s a fetch quest pretty much with the Doctor leading us and guiding us to the materials we would need to make it, there would be some banter with him talking to us, messing with us, like Glados destroy enough of his cameras watching us he’ll respond with “You know I can still hear you right?” Do it enough and he’ll stop watching us and or talking to us, leave the cameras alone he’ll drop some lore and secrets, eventually we get the pieces to make the Omni hand and we’re free to leave but not without him chasing us one more time to frick with us, game resumes as normal.

That’s the interpretation I was hoping for slightly, mob has there reasons for underutilizing him, he’s not the main villain he’s just a fun extra character.

I just wish we could have seen more of him oh well.

Here’s my take on what I was hoping for him to look like. Brain in jar works and makes sense but object head was a fun and different design from all the other toys and entities we have run into.

Thinking about writing a fan fic on this interpretation of him…would like to see one? Or is it to cringy?

Welp I’ve yapped long enough back to watching YouTube for the rest of the night lol

What were yall hoping for chapter 4 to have been? What are some things you think could have gone better?

[eevylynn]

WolfTok

Sterek || E|| Booktoker AU || 2518 wc (1/3)

Stiles is shocked to discover that Derek moonlights as a Booktoker. What he finds even more shocking is the discovery that Derek uses it to promote his smutty books it writes under a pseudonym.

Yeah, we’re just going to pretend that TikTok was a thing during Teen Wolf time. Don’t think too hard about this.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It started unsurprisingly: Stiles was procrastinating doing his essay by doomscrolling on TikTok. He had probably wasted almost half an hour of countless videos of ADHD hacks, the latest dance trend, a few badass women wielding various medieval weaponry, and some weirdly satisfying carpet cleaning videos.

After liking a neat heart-healthy recipe that he’s thinking of trying sometime soon, Stiles scrolled on to the next video.

The first thing he registered was SKIN.

Then, to the beat of the latest trending thirst trap song, the shot zoomed out to show a shirtless man from his large, corded shoulders down past his rippling abs, reading some book that Stiles had seen mentioned by countless women on booktok before.

The camera panned up, revealing more until—

“Holy. Shit.”

It was Derek Hale.

Stiles froze, his thumb hovering above the screen as his brain struggled to catch up with what he was seeing. Derek, perfectly disheveled with stubble framing his jaw and brows furrowed in concentration, was reading the book. His kaleidoscope eyes swept across the page as if genuinely engrossed in the story.

Looking at the bottom of the screen, Stiles saw the username @ howlinghemingway.

Well, shit.

Forget his essay, this discovery was much more important. It wasn’t like his essay was even due tomorrow. Stiles still had a week to work on it. Besides, the longer he puts it off, the harder the ADHD procrastination adrenaline will hit, and it’ll probably still be one of the best in class.

With that in mind, Stiles clicked the username to see what other videos Derek had posted as he stood up from his desk chair to make himself comfortable in his bed before he dived on in.

Each video drew him deeper into the rabbit hole. There were videos of Derek discussing plot twists, sharing his favorite steamy scenes, giving writing tips, all while showing Derek in various states of undress while recommending different books. Books Stiles didn’t even know Derek knew about much less owned. Stiles was mesmerized by the way Derek’s sharp cheekbones caught the light, the way his jaw clenched while talking about a particularly gripping part of a story.

One video in particular caught Stiles’ attention. Derek was casually lounging in what Stiles recognized as the library in pack house, the same location as most of Derek’s videos . He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a soft burgundy sweater. Stiles can’t remember ever seeing Derek look so damned soft. That sweater even had thumbholes! Thumbholes! Derek in thumbholes was a level of cozy Stiles wasn’t emotionally prepared for.

But that wasn’t the real kicker.

Derek held up a hardcover novel, his thumb grazing over the title: Crimson Moon by Samuel Blackwolf. Stiles squinted at the screen, confused for a second, until Derek’s smooth voice filled the air.

“Imagine ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ meets ‘Hamlet’, but way steamier. ‘Crimson Moon’ continues Cyrus and Rowan’s forbidden romance. An ancient curse threatens their bond, all while they uncover Cyrus’s dark family secrets. And yes, it’s as spicy as ever,” Derek said, grinning salaciously. “Think forbidden love, secret rendezvous, and intense passion. Unlock the secrets yourself.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped.

Derek Hale, brooding werewolf extraordinaire, was not only a BookToker, but also a secret smut author with multiple books published?!

WHAT?

Stiles could hardly believe it. His fingers trembled as he opened his Kindle app and quickly searched for Samuel Blackwolf . In seconds, he had downloaded the first book, Wicked Shadows .

A half hour later, Stiles was hooked. The book was more than just spicy.

It was flaming hot!

The first steamy scene was barely 50 pages in, and Stiles couldn’t help but notice how much Cyrus reminded him of Derek. Soft, guarded, vulnerable. There was something about the way the character's inner strength was hidden behind layers of quiet intensity, the way he spoke few words but conveyed everything with his actions. It was impossible not to draw the parallels—Cyrus had Derek written all over him, not just emotionally but physically too. Dark, unruly hair, sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and those intense eyes that seemed to see right through you.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to push down the heat rising in his chest. How had he never noticed this before? He read on, his fingers gripping his phone a little tighter, his heart pounding in his ears.

And then there was Rowan. Brash, witty, relentless. Rowan was everything Stiles saw in himself, but dialed up to 100. Physically, it was like looking into a mirror—messy hair, wiry build, constantly moving, always restless. But the way Rowan bantered with Cyrus, the way he needled and teased him to get a reaction, to crack that serious exterior, that was pure Stiles. Rowan didn't just push boundaries; he shattered them. And if Cyrus reminded Stiles of Derek, then Rowan was like Stiles with the filter torn off, laying it all bare without hesitation.

It was jarring, almost too much. Was Derek...writing about them? Stiles' heart skipped a beat as his mind spiraled, the scene unfolding in his head as vividly as if he were watching it play out in real life. Every word, every heated glance, felt like an echo of the moments he shared with Derek—the teasing, the stolen looks, the tension that buzzed between them when they were close.

Stiles swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back to the screen. The scene was getting more intense, the chemistry between the two characters palpable. Every touch, every kiss, every word felt loaded with more meaning than just fiction. And all he could think about was Derek. Did Derek know what he was doing?

Before he knew it, Stiles’ hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajama pants. He couldn’t help it. The sex, the tension, even the way Rowan took care of Cyrus after absolutely railing him—was too much. Stiles groaned into the crook of his arm as he came, his mind still filled with images of Derek as Cyrus and himself as Rowan.

Post-orgasm, Stiles lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Holy hell. What had he just discovered? He wasn’t sure how to process the fact that Derek, his Derek, had written all of that. He was even less sure what it meant that he had gotten off to it.

But there was no way Stiles could ignore this. Nope. Not ever.

[continue reading on ao3]

[mewkwota]

Goo'morning I got a tag from @emeraldthelynx, thankyu very much!

I wasn't sure if it was necessary to add-on to the previous thread but to avoid mobile users from being overwhelmed by an oncoming Text Train I'll make mine a separate post.

--

Favorite Color: Cake Yellow. I find the bread parts of a cake to be the very appealing.

Last Song: I just came across this song, it's "Toki no Kakera" from Dream C Club. The instrumental immediately caught my ears, so now it's going into my "things I listen to while I drive playlist". :D

Currently Reading: I haven't been reading much. ( . _.);

Currently Watching: Vinesauce is constantly infused into my veins. I also like to watch the occasional spooky thing like NightMind I guess.

Currently Craving: Onigiri. It's a long story. On my last day in Japan I wanted to take one last stop at a konbini, but we were rushed to our departure (even though it turns out we were very early). But our gate was so far from the shops I didn't bother to run back. So I've been having many different dreams where I'm suddenly back in Japan and am this close to a konbini and then I wake up before I realize it, but to this day I've never been able to buy one even in my sleep.

They may not be the most fancy things, but I really liked how they tasted and my homemade ones don't entirely fill that hole. ( ; v; )

Coffee or Tea: Tea I guess? I like milk teas more, since most teas I've had on their own give me headaches. I know some can have bits of caffeine which I don't really need, so I wonder if that is the root of it. Otherwise, I love the smell of coffee but not so much their taste.

A Hobby I'd Like To Try: Probably animating. I've dabbled in it a couple times before, but it was never anything super crazy. Still, I liked seeing the results come together and I'm sure I'll slowly improve on it as I try more things (albeit very-very-slowly, and that's okay). :)

An AU You've Been Plotting: Whatever I have established in my general fanworks can be considered AUs as they are-- I mean, I crush canon/timelines together so particular families can interact closely... I don't have any huge AUs cooking in my brain anymore-- my last one was set aside indefinitely ages ago and no you get no remnants as to what it is other than the continued existence of One Character.

Other than that, everything I work with is set with crossing over of multiple series by default too. I just think that's a really cool thing, whether it's done for humor or not. If I needed to give an example there is that Animal Crossing one with Juste, I can think of things that aren't just "the sillies" with it too, but I'll get to it when I can. It also revolves around the idea of "that man needs to learn to rest".

--

So those are the answers to my simple-something self, I never really have much to say anymore. But! I can still tag people hoo-hah-- @indygotcha, @the-crow-binary, @sapphirestarz11, @rosiemissfandomchaos, @rubyrosevalentine

And of course you are never obligated to do the tag if you don't want to. You could also see this is a passing hello. So hello! ( ' v')b

[thornybubbles]

Sick Love (Yandere Akira Otoishi x Reader)

**Note: Man, I struggled with this one. I just kept starting and stopping on it and getting increasingly frustrated. I kept finding plot holes and inconsistencies and it was driving me crazy trying to fix them all without completely changing what I was trying to convey. Well it’s done now and I really hope it’s good enough. I did this while taking a break from “Kinder Than Love” because I was struggling with that one too, but don’t worry, I’ll be resuming work on it just as soon as I post this!**

**Another picker wheel story prompt with a character I’ve not written for yet**

Prompt: Darling finds out about yandere's murder/s.

There was a time when the roar of the crowd was enough for Akira. Having all those people looking up at him with amazement, excitement, and awe reserved only for gods was all he needed. The way women looked at him with their eyes filled with tears and desperation as they reached out, aching to touch him, struggling to just be able to feel the fabric of his clothing or even just heat from his body as if that alone would grant them some kind of salvation…it used to be enough to keep him satisfied. 

Not anymore. 

Because THEY weren’t YOU. 

After meeting you, getting to know you, falling for you…

Everything changed. 

Everything felt empty and lifeless when you weren’t involved. 

Even his beloved music sounded dull, generic, and lacked the edge it needed to make him the star he deserved to be. 

But, he started writing songs inspired by his love for you and it launched him into a new popularity almost overnight. He put every ounce of his love and longing into his music and EVERYONE could feel it. At first he feared that the new sound would drive his old fans (what little he had at the time) away. But no. They loved it. Even the critics took notice and raved about how his songs hit harder, felt grittier and more intense than ever before. People were singing along at his performances. They never did that before. His dream of being the greatest rocker the world had ever seen was becoming a reality. And it was all thanks to you!

You had to be some kind of angel. 

HIS ANGEL. 

But it wasn’t until after he gained stardom that he realized how important you were to him. He would be nothing without you. You were the one to put him on the right path and you did it for no reason at all. You wanted no payment and asked for no favors. You did it simply because you cared about him. That’s when he realized he loved you and he could never, ever let you go. He couldn’t let things go back to the way they were without you. Even if he stayed famous, he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He loved you that much. 

But there was one thing that he hated about his relationship with you, and that was the fact that he had to keep it a secret. 

His manager kept going on and on about keeping up appearances. He told Akira that a lot of his fans would be very unhappy if they found out that he was in a relationship. For the sake of his career, he was forced to pretend to be single. Sure. Fine. He could handle that. It was safer for you anyway. Some of his groupies got a little… well… carried away sometimes. If they found out about you, they’d track you down and tear you apart. He couldn’t have that. So for your own safety, it was better that he kept you a secret. 

So maybe pretending he was single was fine when he was in the limelight. He could always make up for it later when he was home and it was just the two of you. 

But what he couldn’t handle…

What he absolutely couldn’t tolerate…

…was his manager telling him to break up with you. 

----

“What do you mean I can’t get married?” Akira demanded, straining to keep his voice from dropping to a growl. 

His manager puffed cigar smoke in his face. 

“Just what I said, Otoishi. You can’t get married. A secret relationship is one thing, but a marriage is much harder to keep under wraps. The media will be all over it!” 

“It’s not like we were gonna throw some big party or anything!” Akira protested. “It was just gonna be a private thing!” 

His manager shook his head. 

“It won’t matter. Someone will find out about it. Someone will talk. Trust me, I’ve been in this industry for a long time and I know how it goes.”

His manager leaned back in his office chair. He took another drag off his cigar before putting it out in the ashtray on his desk. He blew the smoke out and sighed. 

“While we’re on the topic… I really need to talk to you about this relationship of yours.” 

Akira’s eyes narrowed. What else could his manager possibly have to complain about? Wasn’t it bad enough that he was forbidding him from marrying you?

“I think you need to break up with your lover, Otoishi.” 

Akira felt like he’d just been shot. He stood there and stared, dumbfounded at his manager. 

“What… did you say?” he said, voice coming out in a stunned whisper. 

His manager sighed. 

“I know how it is, kid, believe me. You find someone and they’re the love of your life, you can’t live without them, they’re your world, your soulmate, yadda, yadda, freakin’ yadda..” 

Akira could feel his body beginning to tremble with the strain of keeping Red Hot Chili Pepper in check. He was getting angrier the more his manager spoke. 

“...but at the end of the day, your career should come first. Always. First of all, you can’t keep the relationship a secret forever. The only reason I haven’t said anything about it before now is because I figured you would’ve moved on to another lover by now. That’s how it usually goes anyway. In this business the groupies don’t care if you sleep around, just so long as they feel they’ve got a chance. You know what I mean? Second, tying yourself down to one lover is just a hassle. You’re young. You got plenty of time to worry about things like marriage once you’ve got your name out there. You’re already on your way to becoming a superstar, but there’s no reason to hold yourself back. Getting married? Not only will you turn your fans against you, but your spouse will start to get on your nerves. One minute you’re in domestic bliss, the next thing you know they’ll be wantin’ more jewelry or cars or whatever, then they’ll be on your ass about stayin’ out all night, or goin’ on tour and leaving them all by themselves…. It’ll turn to hell quicker than lightning. You’ll end up divorced, broke, and with no career to speak of. I’ve seen it happen a million times…” 

Akira listened in silence. With every word, he lost more and more control on his Stand. Eventually, he let go and Red Hot Chili Pepper manifested, sitting cross-legged on his manager’s desk. Akira just looked on with wild eyes as his Stand reached out to touch the phone on the desk. 

“It’s just plain bad for business. I’m tellin’ ya. You’re better off forgetting about all that romance and marriage stuff. You don’t wanna piss fame and glory down your leg, now do ya?” 

The desk phone lit up and started ringing. 

His manager huffed. 

“Hang on a sec, gotta get this.” 

His manager reached for the phone, picking it up and putting it to his ear. 

“Yeah?” he said with a bored sigh. 

Only static and shrill feedback could be heard on the other end. 

His manager jerked the receiver away from his ear, squinting one eye closed in pain. 

“The hell?” he grumbled. “Hey! Can’t hear ya! There's too much feedback! Who is this anyway?” 

Sparks flew from the phone, arching upward and wrapping around the length of his manager’s arm. Bolts of electricity encircled his body and the man’s whole frame froze up in agony. He cried out in pain and terror. One hand was practically crushing the phone receiver while the other’s fingers dug into the leather of the arm of his chair. Moments later, the cries of agony died down and Akira’s manager slumped over in his chair. He’d been reduced to a smoking corpse. His wide eyes stared blankly, the expression on his face frozen in pain and fear, jaw tight with lips pulled away from his teeth in a tortured grimace. His hand was still clutching the phone to his ear. Ever so often the body would twitch and jerk, but all signs of life were long gone. The phone on his desk had been reduced to a pile of melted circuitry and plastic. 

Akira plopped down in the chair across from his manager’s desk and began playing his beloved guitar. He really, really needed to calm down now. He plucked at the strings, belting out a laid back tune. It was soft and calm, not his usual style, but it reminded him of your soothing voice. He focused his thoughts on you, He imagined that the music was you telling him, 

“It’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright. You did what you had to. He won’t be taking me away from you. It’s all over now…” 

Eventually the murderous look on his face gave way to a dreamy, lovestruck expression. A slight blush spread across his face and he sighed, feeling much better. 

He cast a glance at his manager’s still smoking carcass and resisted the urge to spit on him. Who did that fat fuck think he was, telling him that he had to break up with you? He squinted his eyes closed, taking a deep breath, and strumming another tune or two on his guitar. No point in working his anger up again. He was going to have to leave soon. Let someone find the body in the morning. There was no chance of it being linked back to him, as long as no other nosy Stand users like that Josuke asshole got involved, it would be fine. It would be deemed a freak accident due to faulty wiring or something. He could hire another manager… one who wouldn’t pry into his personal relationships… and everything would go back to normal. 

To think that his manager wanted him to break up with you… It was madness! Akira would be lost without you! After getting out of jail, he had a hard time picking himself off the ground. Staying in Morioh was out of the question, so he left, hoping to start anew. It didn’t go as well as he planned. Getting a job was the really hard part. He couldn’t seem to find work other than gigs in sleazy bars and busking in the park. 

No one listened. 

No one heard his music. At the bars his audience was too drunk and rowdy to even look at who was performing for them. At the parks people would overlook him completely. If anyone paid any attention to him at all it was to offer him a polite smile before dropping a few measly pity coins into his jar, but no one stayed to listen. His confidence was starting to deflate and all his energy was draining. 

By the time you found him, he was as low as he could be. You came across him slumped on a park bench one evening, staring with empty eyes into a beer bottle. You recognized him immediately and couldn’t stop yourself from approaching him. 

“I don’t mean to bother you, but aren’t you Akira Otoishi?” 

His head shot up as he looked at you, sobering up almost right away. He was stunned that not only had some pretty thing approached him, but actually recognized him. 

“Uh… do… do I owe you money or something?” he asked. 

You laughed and that was how it all started. 

It wasn’t long after that, that you and Akira became an item and he fell for you in a way he never thought he’d fall for anyone. You became his muse and he began writing songs inspired by you and the rest is history. You saved him. With all his confidence and ego, he could fully admit that he would be nothing without you. You pulled him out of the depths of despair. You kept him from fading into obscurity. 

And now some low life came along and wanted to separate you? First his fans, then his own manager!? UNFORGIVABLE! 

Akira would have to be more careful. He would have to make sure that NOBODY knew about you. They would just try to make him leave you, make you leave him, or worse; actually take you away from him!. No way! Not if he had anything to say about it!

-----

You were living in a dream. You had to be, because the last four years just felt too perfect to be real. Everyday you thought about how lucky you were to have a guy like Akira Otoishi. You befriended the washed out rocker and helped him regain his lost gusto for music and living. You watched as he rose from nobody to superstar almost overnight. You never suspected that the loud, obnoxious, funny, energetic musician named Akira Otoishi would become the love of your life. But that’s what happened. Now you strolled down the halls of the music studio on your way to surprise him with some flowers. He loved it when his fans sent him stuff, but he always seemed to be more excited when those gifts came from you, a fact that melted your heart. You wanted to give this bouquet to him personally this time because you loved watching him turn into a blushing mess. 

It was late at night and there weren’t many people in the building. With the exception of the receptionist and the janitor on the lower floor, it was practically deserted. Walking down the empty halls with no sounds but the hum and buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead was a bit unnerving, but it was worth it for your baby. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when an anguished scream echoed through the halls. The lights flickered crazily and you could feel your hair standing on end from the static in the air. Some kind of electrical malfunction? What was that scream just now? You tore down the corridor and headed for Akira’s room. He wasn’t there but you could hear music coming from the next room over. That was Akira’s manager’s office. You sprinted to the door and knocked on it loudly. 

-----

Akira stopped playing when he heard your frantic knocks. He stared at the door in horror. 

“Akira! Akira, are you in there? What was that scream just now? Are you alright?!” he heard you shout through the door. 

Panic washed over him. 

“I’m here, babe!” he answered, hoping the sound of his voice would calm you down. He got up from the chair and turned to the door just as it started to open.  “Just give me a second and I’ll…. NO! DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!!” 

Hearing the panic in his voice caused you to burst into the room. 

“What happened? Are you o….k….” 

The sight that greeted you there caused the words to catch in your throat. 

Akira stepped to the side, trying to hide his manager’s corpse from you, but it was already far too late. 

“Is he… dead?” you choked out, already knowing the answer. 

“It was an accident!” Akira exclaimed. “Something is wrong with the wiring in the building, I guess.” 

This was the worst possible outcome. You weren’t supposed to see this. You weren’t even supposed to be here right now! 

“What are you doing here anyway? It’s not a good idea for you to hang around the studio, remember?” he said. 

“We need to call someone! Paramedics or--” 

He cut you off. 

“Phone’s dead. Wiring issues.” he said in a clipped tone. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this, but his mind was already coming up with a number of ideas. 

“Then we’ll tell the receptionist downstairs. She was using her phone when I came in. So the phone line downstairs aren’t affected.” you offered, trying to stay cool and collected. 

“No good.” Akira said quickly. 

You gave him a look of confusion. 

“Why not? Someone has to know what happened! We can’t just do nothing!” you cried. 

“Yes we can.” Akira said darkly.

That static feeling in the air was coming back. You felt your skin prickle and it felt as if something brushed past you. You heard the sound of the door behind you closing shut and locking. You looked behind you at the closed door in growing dread. You turned back to your boyfriend. He was approaching you now, guitar hanging lazily from its strap as he reached out for you. You flinched and froze, not knowing what he was planning to do. You held back a shriek as he pulled the bouquet from your hands. 

“Aw! Are these for me?” he said, burying his face into the blossoms and taking in their smell. His eyes were closed and he was smiling blissfully, a blush across his cheeks. Normally seeing Akira acting so smitten over your gifts would have you looking on with adoration, but your eyes kept flicking back and forth between your seemingly oblivious boyfriend and the corpse of his manager. 

“Akira…” you said, gulping down your growing terror. “Why are you acting so weird? Your manager’s dead! Don’t you… don’t you care?!”

“He deserved it.” Akira said, looking up from the bouquet to stare you right in the eyes. 

He decided that there really wasn’t much point in keeping you in the dark any longer. You may as well know everything. That’s the way it was with couples, right? They share their darkest secrets with each other all the time! 

You stared up at him in shock. 

“...what?” you said after finally finding your voice again. 

“He told me that we shouldn’t get married. Then he told me that I should just break up with you altogether. Can you imagine, babe? He wanted me to just abandon you! You, my little muse! So I did what I had to.” 

Your little dream was falling apart around you. All this time you’d been so smug about bagging a hot, up and coming rocker guy… all this time that you swooned over him and let yourself be swept up in a romance that happened much too fast to be normal…. It was crumbling into dust. You knew that Akira had a lot of secrets. You knew that he’d been in prison before you met him. But this was too much. Fearful tears pricked at your eyes and Akira noticed. 

“Don’t cry, sweet thing! You don’t have to worry! I won’t let anybody come between us!” he cooed and wiped your eyes with his thumb. You were frozen to the spot and unable to pull away no matter how much you wanted to. 

“You killed him.” you stated. 

“I did.” he said with a grin that made your skin crawl. 

“How?” 

You glanced at the body again. You could tell that the poor man had been electrocuted but how Akira managed to do something like that was beyond you. 

“That’s a little tougher to explain,” he said mysteriously. “Maybe it’s best if I give you a demonstration.” 

That staticy feeling in the air increased and the lights in the room started doing strange things. They flickered, brightened, dimmed, and shut off completely only to come back on moments later. The digital clock on the wall cycled through the hours at rapid speed and the damaged phone sparked worryingly. You watched the scene wordlessly, unable to process what you were witnessing. 

Suddenly a pair of arms grabbed a hold of you. You looked all around you in a frenzy of terror but you couldn’t see anything. You were being held by something that was totally invisible! Your skin prickled at the feeling of its hold and you could feel your hair standing on end. You started to scream when an invisible hand clamped over your mouth. You struggled, but whatever held you was far stronger than you. You looked at Akira with wide, fear-filled eyes. He just stared back at you with his usual loving expression. The expression looked so wrong on him now. 

“That there is Red Hot Chili Pepper. He’s my Stand. I wish I could’ve given you a proper introduction, but under the circumstances, that’ll have to wait. You don’t have to be scared of him, though. He won’t hurt you unless I want him to. If I had another Stand arrow I could give you a Stand and you’d be able to see him. But I’d never risk it. The arrow would kill you if your will’s not strong enough. Not that I don’t think you’re strong willed or anything, but I’d never take a chance with my baby’s life like that. ” 

What… the… hell… was he rambling about? 

All this talk of Stands, and arrows, and chili peppers….

You didn’t know if he was going insane or if you were. 

All that you knew is the man you called your boyfriend had murdered his manager, somehow he was controlling the electricity in the room, and you were being held captive by something he called a Stand. The thing, whatever it actually was, nuzzled into the back of your neck and you found yourself once again on the verge of tears. 

Akria, ever vigilant when it came to you, noticed your watery eyes yet again. 

“Hey! None of that!” he said, walking over and wiping the tears from your eyes once more. 

“Water and electricity don’t mix, you know!” 

He offered you a sickly sweet smile and you felt the bile rise in your throat. 

He glanced back at his manager’s body and sighed. 

“No one’s gonna look at this and see it as anything other than a freak accident. Even if Josuke and Jotaro were to find out about this and relate me to it, they can’t do shit to me now. I’m way out of their jurisdiction. We’ll just leave the body here. The receptionist and the janitor are the only people that knew that I was in here with him so I guess I’ll have to kill them, too. Probably best if we don’t leave the building in the usual way, so we’ll just go through the electrical system.” he muttered, talking more to himself than to you.

No, he was definitely the crazy one here. 

How had he been hiding this side of himself from you all this time? 

He prattled on for another minute or two before kneeling down next to you. 

“Babe, you’re shaking,” he said, noting your trembling form. “You’re… you’re not scared are you?” 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond with the invisible hand over your mouth. All you could do was give him a desperate look, pleading with your eyes for him to let you go. 

He didn’t. 

Instead he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest while the invisible thing snuggled you from behind. 

“You know I’d never hurt you, don’t you?” he asked, straightening up to look at you. 

You moaned pathetically into the invisible hand over your mouth. You wanted to cry, but didn’t dare.

“I’ll come back to take care of those other two later, but first, I gotta take you somewhere where no one will find you.” 

Your eyes widened and your face went ghastly pale. You looked up at him but he just gave you a stern stare down. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I gotta do it, baby! They’ll take you away from me if I don’t hide you from them! Now hang on, this will be kinda scary at first, but you’ll get used to it.” 

You didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about, but you didn’t have much time to think about it as you were promptly blinded by a bright yellow light. You squeezed your eyes closed, hoping to block the blinding light from your vision. It dimmed a moment later and you slowly opened your eyes. You were glowing, and so was Akira! All around you was snapping, popping, sizzling electricity and yet somehow it didn’t seem to harm you at all. As Akira held onto you, you could feel the both of you being pulled towards something. You looked around Akira to see that you both were being pulled into a wall socket. You let out a muffled scream as you were pulled into the socket and forced to travel through the building’s electrical wiring. You didn’t know how such a thing was possible, but you did know one thing:

Your little dream of dating a famous rocker had become a nightmare that you would never wake up from.

[onceuponastory]

survival tactics - the winter soldier x reader

Part Four of my Ghost Story AU - Find the Series Masterlist here.

Plot: When their worst nightmare comes true, Y/N and Bucky try to make it out alive. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, dead bodies, choking, blood, violence, threats, guns, knives, and shooting. Nothing too graphic/gory, but this chapter is definitely more violent than the others, so please use your own discretion! Also mentions of the abuse, manipulation and trauma Bucky faced while under HYDRA’s control. And HYDRA agents being the creepy assholes they are. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: We’ve reached part four already! Thank you again for all loving this story so much. I hope you like this chapter. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

1945

He awakens strapped to a table. He can feel things poking and prodding at him, but is too groggy to tell who or what they are. Faces stare down at him, most of them too blurry for him to recognise.

“Sergeant Barnes.” A voice says. 

Who is Sergeant Barnes?

Hazy memories flash through his brain. Memories of flying. 

Or was it falling? 

His body throbs with a dull pain. He twitches, trying to break free, but someone or something holds him down. And somehow, he doesn’t fight it. 

More memories now. Of red crimson on the snow, seeping through it. A beautiful landscape, destroyed by violence. Why so much blood? 

There’s screaming. Screaming that he can’t recognise.

“He’s tense. I’m not sure if he’s stable enough for the procedure yet.”

“The procedure has already started.” The original voice corrects. Another face appears, looming out of the haze. “You are to be… the new fist of HYDRA. Our Winter Soldier.”

19-seventy something.

He’s running. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or how long he’s been running for. He just needs to get away. Away from the base, from all the people touching him, of the pain. He weaves through the trees, a tactic he learnt from years of being a super-powered assassin. His legs pound the frozen ground, and his heart and lungs burn. Despite the pain, he’s never felt so alive.

Just get away. Just run.

As he breaks through the trees, he stops. He can finally see the horizon, vast and never ending. He takes a breath. 

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s free.

But as he takes a step forward, something hits him in the leg, and he falls to the ground, landing in the snow. Russian expletives fill the air, and he hisses in pain. Yet, the adrenaline in his veins keeps him going, another burst of energy causing him to rise once more. He steps forward, still hissing in pain. He only makes it a few more steps before being hit in his other leg. He looks down at the bullet hole in his legs, at the blood flowing out of the wounds. Again, crimson seeps into the snow.

They’ve found him again.

Before he can try to get up, or even to crawl forward, two muscular arms grab him, hauling him up. He tries to struggle, but it’s futile. Despite how much he wants to deny it, his wounds have weakened him. And so, he gives up the fight. 

Yet, as he’s loaded back into a van, ready to be taken back to base, one thought remains: He will get out of here. One way or another.

Present Day

Now, as he watches the HYDRA agent, Bucky knows he should’ve known you can never truly outrun your demons. Especially when they’re as all reaching as HYDRA. The man walks around the room, staring at both with a smirk. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Y/N. Run.” Bucky hisses. He knows it’s futile, but there’s still a little hope that she’ll be able to flee there. Y/N tries to run, but he grabs her before she can escape.

“I see you’ve brought a new plaything, Soldat. How generous.” The man shoves her against the wall, and Y/N cries out in pain. The sound makes Bucky even angrier. He tries to stand up, forgetting how tightly he’s been bolted in. “She’ll do nicely. But what to do with her? We’ve been trying to replicate you, you know? Perhaps she can be your replacement.” Y/N squirms in his arms, trying to free herself. “Or maybe… I’ll keep her for myself, hm?”

“Stay away from her.” Bucky demands, his metal arm tensing, flexing against his restraints. The sound of metal grinding against metal fills the air. This whole time, he’s refused to let Y/N see his true self, the true strength and violence he’s capable of. But now, he has to use it. There’s no other choice. It’s for their survival.

So why is he so damn terrified?

“Remain in your cell until the others get here, and then there won’t be any problems.” That’s what they trained him to do. To be obedient and stay locked away for god knows how long. To be their warrior, their soldier, moulded and controlled. That was Bucky’s life for so long. When he escaped, he finally thought he had a chance for freedom, and to live a normal, happy life. To find love. To be Bucky Barnes again.

With Y/N, he found that. Someone to care for him and love him, despite everything. Someone he can laugh with. She’s his entire world, his reason for staying alive. The person he thinks of first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Losing her, losing their happiness scares him to death.

And he’s not letting HYDRA take her away from him, to destroy either of them and the new life they built together. This time, he won’t obey.

The guard looks young, nowhere near as experienced as the HYDRA agents and handlers he’s used to seeing. He’s cocky too, without the same maturity as the other agents. And that, thankfully, means that he won’t have been entrusted with the Winter Soldier’s control words. They have a chance to stop him. Just as long as he can get out of this fucking cell in time. He strains as hard as he can to break free, feeling the metal buckle under his grasp.

“I won’t let you touch him.” Y/N hisses, wriggling in his grasp and hitting the man in the head as hard as she can. “He’s not going anywhere with you.” In response, the man wraps his hands around her neck, squeezing. Y/N groans, clawing at the man’s wrists and kicking with all her might, desperate for survival. An intense rage burns within Bucky. 

“Such a feisty little thing. I can see why you like her, Soldat.”

“His name….” Y/N’s voice fills the room. Soft and strained. “Is Bucky.” Despite the love he feels for her using his real name, Bucky can see Y/N getting weaker and weaker by the moment. The rage intensifies, so hot and strong it consumes his entire being.

Just one more push.

Just hold on, Y/N. I’m coming to save you, just as you’ve saved me. 

“You know what’ll be fun? How about I cut your little girlfriend up… and make you watch?”

Bucky’s metal arm breaks through then, and he kicks the door hard. It bursts open within a second, and he storms out, right towards the HYDRA agent. In an instant, the hand tightly wrapped around Y/N’s neck is peeled off. She falls to the floor, taking in a deep breath of survival. “I told you to stay away from her.” Bucky hisses, his eyes darkening. “You’re not going to touch either of us again.” She’s never seen him like this before, so angry… so frightening. His entire face, once so full of laughter and smiles for her, is contorted by rage. It’s then she realises that this must be what he looked like as the Winter Soldier, and what HYDRA’s enemies saw before they took their last breath. 

The agent’s tough facade soon shatters as Bucky’s grasp on his arm tightens. He cries out in pain, an agonising scream the likes of which Y/N has never heard before. And she never wants to hear it again. As the agent’s body sinks down to the floor, Bucky grabs his gun. 

“See you and your friends in hell.” He hisses, before pulling the trigger.

As the man’s body slumps to the floor, Bucky crosses over to Y/N. In an instant, all the rage in his face is gone, replaced by concern as he checks over her. Already, strong, angry marks are already developing on her neck. Bucky’s jaw clenches angrily. “Scum. Bullets aren’t enough for them.”

However, all Y/N can do is stare at the body on the floor. Whether in horror or a morbid curiosity, she doesn’t know. “He’s dead.” She gasps. She and Bucky watch as a deep crimson seeps out, coating the floor. Just like it did on a cold winter’s day in 1945. “You killed him.” She whimpers. Her stomach churns, and she has to suppress the bile rising in her throat. Of course, she’s not stupid. She knows that this is what needs to be done to stop HYDRA, and they deserve far more than what Bucky gave them. But she’s never seen such a violent death before. Especially not one caused by Bucky.

She should’ve expected this, a voice in her head tells her. After all, all she’s heard since they got to this damn place is how violent Bucky is, the true extent of what he’s capable of. And she didn’t listen, instead believed that part of his life was over, that they were safe. That things were normal. How very wrong she was. But then again, as they grew closer, she never had any reason to doubt that Bucky - the man who listened intently to her family stories, whose eyes sparkle whenever they see her walking into his cell - was anything other than safe. 

And then the tears come, erupting from within as the reality of everything that’s just happened sets in. Immediately, Bucky pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her in a tight squeeze. She buries her face in his chest, inhaling his scent and shielding her eyes from the agent bleeding out next to them. For a moment, Y/N realises how nice it feels to be in Bucky’s arms, and how safe she feels in his tight grasp. He whispers reassuring words in her ear, telling her it’ll be okay in the hopes it soothes her. Even though he doesn’t know if it’ll be alright either. He holds her as she cries, letting her relax and find comfort in his arms. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Bucky orders, gently lifting her cheek up so she’s eye level with him. As she looks into the silvery blue eyes she knows so well, matching her breathing with his, Y/N slowly calms down. Surprisingly, Bucky’s not angry at her hysterical reaction. He’s more sorrowful, upset that she had to see something like that, and concerned for her wellbeing. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But I couldn’t let him hurt my girl.” The words slip out with no thought, and Y/N gasps.

“I’m your girl?” Of course, after being tortured and manipulated for so long, Bucky’s never really thought about his love life, and who he cares for enough to consider his girl. But Y/N has done so much for him, and he loves her so deeply that he knows with no doubt that, yes, she is his girl.

“Of course you are.” He gives her another squeeze, and she manages a small smile. Her eyes flicker down to his lips.

If this was a rom-com, or at least, if they weren’t being hunted by HYDRA agents and didn’t have a dead body bleeding out beside them, this is the part where they would kiss and go in the sunset together to live happily ever after. And that’s what Y/N wants. But life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, especially not theirs. “Y/N.” Bucky whispers. “We have to go find the others. It’s not safe here.” Y/N nods, letting Bucky help her up and lead her towards the cell’s exit.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” She asks. Her voice is unsure, almost as if she thinks asking someone how they’re feeling when their abusers find them again is a stupid question. Bucky doesn’t think it’s a stupid question though. In fact, Y/N caring about him so much, and making sure that she’s alright even after what she’s been through is making him fall even deeper in love with her.

Honestly, he’s fucking terrified. For a moment, he thought he was finally safe from HYDRA. He feels like a complete idiot for even thinking they wouldn’t find him again. And even though he’ll fight tooth and nail to protect Y/N, to protect both of them, he’s terrified that they’re going to find them both, and then he’ll be taken back to the hell they kept him in for so long. But he’s refusing to show it and worry her even more. He has to stay strong, for both their sakes. He has to do what’s necessary to protect them both. He’ll have to deal with his feelings later, when this is all over, like he has done ever since he escaped their grasp. If they ever make it out of here, that is.

As they step out into the hallway, the hair on the back of Bucky’s neck stands up. It’s so… quiet. Too quiet. What was once a bustling hallway, full of guards, is now empty.

“How the hell do we get out of this place?” 

“I know. Come on.” Y/N beckons. Yet when they try to open the door, it’s locked, and Y/N’s attempts to unlock it don’t work. “They must be on lockdown. We’re stuck here.” Bucky can already sense the panic in her voice, and he squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“No, we’re not stuck here. We’ll find a way out. I promise.”

“What the hell is going on?!” Steve demands, bursting into the room. Maria and Nick glance up at them both, brows furrowed.

“Hello to you too, Rogers, Wilson.” Fury sighs. “It seems we’re under attack. We don’t know who from, or why, but-”

“It’s HYDRA.”

“We don’t know that, it’s-”

“It has to be! Bucky escaped and he and Y/N were terrified of him being found and brought back there. And we just sat around like sitting ducks.” He sighs, massaging his temples. “We should never have come here.”

“Rogers. This entire compound is under lockdown. Nobody gets in or out. We have agents already beginning to search the building. We'll find them.” Fury insists, but Steve and Sam aren’t convinced.

“They could be anywhere in this damn building, alone and vulnerable. And we’re not going to let them be taken.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and Bucky try to find their way out of the maze that is the compound. Y/N swears that they’ve gone down the same hallway at least five times, but she’s too nervous to even say anything. They’ve only encountered a few HYDRA agents on their way, but Bucky dispatched them all with ease. 

“I don’t like this,” she murmurs. “You’d think they would have sent more agents to take you back.”

“I know.” Bucky sighs. “They must be planning something. And that’s why we have to keep moving.” The further into the compound they go, the more nervous Y/N becomes. Her heart hasn’t stopped pounding from the moment the ‘guard’ entered the cell. All she wants to do is lie down and never get back up again. But she has to keep going and be strong. For both of them.

She registers Bucky squeezing her hand again, and it’s only then she realises that they’re still hand in hand. Of course, they have brushed their hands together before, but this is different. This is special, more intimate. “My girl.” Echoes in her mind, and something in her stomach flutters once more. In an ideal world, this is when she’d tell him the truth. That she thinks she’s falling in love with him. Of course, in an ideal world, they wouldn’t have been attacked by HYDRA either, but even then… Y/N’s not sure if she would’ve told him the truth. He’s been through so much already, even before all this. He doesn’t even know what his life is now that he’s escaped HYDRA, or what’s going to happen to him. Her admitting her feelings would destroy any progress he’s made, and force him to make a choice he may not even be ready for. That’s the last thing he needs.

“You okay? All things considered, that is.”

“Yeah.” She lies. “I just never realised how big this place is.” 

As the pair keep walking, the hallway soon splits in to two. “So. Which way?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky steps forward, looking around cautiously.

“Stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

“No! You can’t go. Not alone, not when they’re looking for you!” She insists. Bucky places a reassuring hand on her forearm. 

“I’ll be okay. If need be, I’ll end this on my own. I’ll be back soon. I promise.” And with one last reassuring squeeze, he’s gone.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been since Bucky left. She tried counting the minutes, but gave up after she reached ten. Nervously, she wrings her hands, trying to think of something that won’t make her panic. Bucky’s smart, he’s calculated. They trained him for moments like this. She knows that first hand. Would all his training really be enough to fight off however many HYDRA agents are swarming this place? But she can only think of one thing:

“Why did I let him go on his own?”

Suddenly, she hears footsteps. Relief floods her veins, and she sighs. It’s Bucky. He’s back, and he’s safe. 

“Checking the east perimeter now.” With those words, everything falls apart. That voice definitely isn’t Bucky, and it’s not Steve or Sam either. And Y/N definitely isn’t about to stick around and find out whose it is. She opens a door, diving into the room and closing the door behind her. 

The footsteps get louder and louder, and Y/N dives for cover under a table. She attempts to quieten her breathing, even wondering if HYDRA trains their agents to smell fear, or to notice the sound of panicked breathing or a raised heart rate. When the door opens, Y/N bites her tongue hard, trying to stop the frightened whimper that threatens to erupt. Where the hell is Bucky?

“Is somebody in here?”

Stay quiet.

Stay alive.

As the figure roams the room, Y/N huddles into herself, hoping it makes her invisible. Just like her grandma told her to do when she was too afraid of the monsters under her bed to sleep. “Wrap yourself up, nice and tight… and then the monsters can’t give you a fright.” Her words ring out, clear as day in Y/N’s mind. If only she could’ve known back then just how real the ghosts and monsters that she used to be so terrified of are. But this time, the monsters are so much more evil. 

And then, silence falls. For a moment, Y/N is relieved, hoping it means that the man has finally left and she can continue her search for Bucky. That is, however, until a voice sounds.

“Well, what do we have here?” She’s pulled harshly up then, the tight grasp on her arm making her yelp out in pain. A flash of silver glints in the light, almost at her throat. A knife. In an instant, she’s transported back to her grandmother’s living room, when she first saw Bucky. When she knew that to ensure her survival and avoid being on the other end of those knives, she had to say the right things.

And now, she has to do it all over again.

Bucky though, he was different. He was kind enough to let her go… albeit in his own way. She doesn’t have that advantage here. But she’ll be damned if she’s not going to try.

“Oh.” The man chuckles, closing the gap between them both. “I know who you are. We know all about you. You’re the Winter Soldier’s friend, aren’t you?” She stays silent, a million different exit plans swirling throughout her brain. “Now come on. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” She finally speaks. It’s not a lie. She hasn’t seen him in god knows how long. Yet the man remains unconvinced. So he asks again. And again, Y/N repeats her answer.

“Come on. You really expect me to believe that?!” He hisses after still not getting his desired response. Before she can even attempt to convince him of the truth, he grins, one that sends a chill throughout her body. “Fine.” He pulls out the knife, bringing it closer to her. The cool metal runs along her skin, her nerves intensifying. He has her life in her hands. One wrong move, and she’s gone. But even then, she still wouldn’t give Bucky up. “If you won’t tell me… I’ll just have to make you.”

Quickly, Y/N shoves him. It’s not hard enough to do much damage, but it’s still enough to knock the man back slightly. She makes a break for the door, but he’s quicker than her. He grabs her, slamming her against the wall and leaving her dazed for a moment. “You can stop this, you know. Save yourself. Just tell me the truth.” She pants, glaring at him. 

“Did you not listen the first few times you asked me? I don’t know where he is. In fact, if he had any sense, he’d be gone, miles away from the risk of being taken again.” It hurts to say that, to think that Bucky would just throw her to the wolves like that, especially after everything they’ve shared. But honestly, she wouldn’t blame him if he ran. Above all else, Y/N wants Bucky to be safe. And she’d sacrifice herself to make sure of it. 

“You can’t stop us. We’ll find him.”

“Not if I can help it. I won’t let you destroy him again.” She hisses.

“You have a lot of fight in you, but we’ll break you eventually. We always do.” He insists. “You’ll be so broken you won’t even remember your name, let alone any of the times you spent with your friends or your family. Just like we did to him.” He’s just trying to scare her into a confession. She knows that. But fear is not the primary emotion she feels in that moment. In fact, she’s full of rage. The way he speaks about Bucky, laughing like the things they did to him and the way they destroyed his life means nothing, disgusts her. As if his trauma, and the things they made him do are just jokes to them. He’s just collateral damage, a pawn in their larger plan.

When she said Bucky would burn the world down to protect her, she didn’t realise that she’d do the exact same for him.

“Go to hell.” She spits in his face. He looks at her curiously for a moment, almost as if he’s impressed by her refusal to back down, and her attempts to fight back. But then, he smirks.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” In an instant, the knife is back at her throat, almost cutting into her skin. “You’re in for a world of hurt, sweetheart. You really want to test me?” He smirks. The way he stares at her, leering at her as he calls her sweetheart, is enough to churn her stomach. “Do you know what they tell us in HYDRA?” He chuckles. “They say the easiest way to infiltrate someone is through their heart.” He moves the knife lower, pointing it at her chest. Y/N’s heart pounds, so loud she swears it could be heard in the room. “Because once you threaten the people they love… getting them to do what you want becomes so much easier.” He stares at her again, smirking. “So how much does the Winter Soldier care about you, hm? Do you think he cares enough to come running when I hurt you?” Y/N’s blood chills, yet she still scoffs, hoping he can’t see how much his words are affecting her. 

“She’s treated me with nothing but kindness since she found me here.” Bucky’s voice echoes in her mind. She can still picture his eyes, and the way they sparkle. How brightly he smiles whenever he sees her. How he broke out of his fucking cell to save her. The way he abandoned his fucking training and didn’t kill her. He does care about her, he does.

“Do it then. Strike through the heart. But you know what’s going to happen if you do kill me? The Winter Soldier is going to come after HYDRA. And he’ll come for you first.” She promises, hoping that the mere threat of a vengeful Bucky is enough to frighten the man. “And you know exactly what he’s capable of. How he can rip apart entire armies like they’re sheets of paper. Can you imagine what he’d do to you? Do you really want that?” The man pauses, and Y/N takes advantage of this to kick him hard in his shin. 

He grunts in pain, lunging for her, but she brings her arm up, striking him with her elbow. She has no idea which part of his face it connects with, but from the scream of pain that fills the air, she knows it must have hurt. Y/N makes another break for the door, but he grabs her hair, pulling her back. She cries out, a furious call of: “Let. Me. Go!” The mixture of fear, rage and pure adrenaline burns within her, a Molotov cocktail of sorts. With one final push, Y/N shoves the man as hard as she can. He stumbles backwards, falling in slow motion. He hits his head on the side corner of the same table she was hiding under and hits the floor with a thud.

And then the room falls silent once more. Y/N steps forward, warily. Despite how close she gets, the man still doesn’t move. Once she’s sure he’s quiet, she lets out an almighty sigh of relief. Grabbing the knife, she finally leaves the room. However, as she steps outside, the adrenaline wears off, and the reality of the situation hits. For a moment, her legs almost go, and she narrowly avoids collapsing in a heap on the floor. Her heart pounds, her head throbs and she just wants to go to sleep. 

But she has to keep moving, no matter what. Bucky would want her to. So, she takes a few more steps forward, until:

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” A voice calls. And thankfully, this time it’s a voice she knows.

“Sam? Sam!” she calls, running into his arms. “I’ve never been so glad to see you.” She whimpers, almost breaking down in tears right there and then.

“Likewise.” He chuckles, giving her a squeeze. Almost as if he’s checking she’s real. Suddenly, he takes her in, and his eyes widen. “Are you okay?” 

She glances down, noticing the blood on her clothes. Oh god. He must have nicked her with the knife. The knife that’s still in her hand. It slips out of her grasp, clattering against the floor.

“S-Someone found me. Someone from HYDRA. He tried to take me too, b-but I pushed him and he fell. He hit his head. I don’t know if he’s dead or- “

“Hey, it’s alright. You did good. You stopped him.” He soothes, letting her calm down. And for the most part, it works. Until he asks: “Where’s Bucky?”

“I don’t know.” She sniffles. “He went to scope for more agents, but he hasn’t come back.”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Sam soothes. “Steve and agents are out looking, too. I’m sure they’ll find him.” She nods, hoping to god that he’s right. “Come on. We should head back upstairs. At least the two of us are better than one.” She nods, and Sam leads her throughout the building. Even though she should feel reassured by Sam’s presence, and she appreciates his support, she feels anything but reassured. It’s still so quiet. Too quiet. 

After walking for a while, they round the corner, almost colliding with a figure. Immediately, they prepare themselves for another fight… until the figure holds up their hands in surrender. 

“It’s okay! It’s just me.” Steve gasps. For a moment, she’s relieved. Until she realises that he’s alone. Her heart sinks. Bucky’s still lost, god knows where in this fucking building. But who’s to say he’s even still in this place, that he hasn’t been dragged back by HYDRA? 

“We still have more places to check. It’s alright, we’ll find him.” Steve reassures, almost as if he read her mind. And all she can do is hope that he’s right.

The trio keeps moving, keeping a watchful eye out for Bucky. Suddenly, a door bursts open at the end of the hallway, banging against the wall, the sound reverberating through the air. Reflexively, Y/N jumps. A figure stalks into view. One the trio knows all too well.

“Bucky. Thank god.” She breathes a sigh of relief. Bucky just stands there, watching the three of them. When she attempts to step closer, Steve and Sam stop her. “Guys, what’s-”

But then, he speaks.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

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[vulpixenthusiast]

Mierin eronaile, the most powerful saidar channeler of her time. In a time when the channelers were at their most powerful.

Mierin eronaile a genius scientist with an underdog complex who never got recognition, and when thinking she would, ended up dooming herself and the whole world.

Mierin eronaile, the woman who only loved one man and was never really loved in return; who never really learned what love actually was. What it could be. The woman who clang to that because what was she to do, what else was there left?

Mierin eronaile the scientist who found a new source of power for ALL channelers. The woman who opened a hole to the prison made by the creator himself.

Mierin eronaile, who clung to power as much as she did to what she believed to be love towards the only man she would ever want. Because again. What else was there.

Mierin, who very likely never knew friendship or even companionship.

The woman who dedicated her entire life to studying the one power.

Mierin, who was such a competent and brilliant woman that both the representatives of Light and Dark wanted her.

The woman who, unfortunately, even if all of that, was also deeply mentally unstable. Something which probably could count for her never getting a third name.

“Yeah Mierin is brilliant and there’s no one who knows more abt the one power, or who has done so much in terms of advancing what we can do with it. But like. she’s visibly insane, no one would ever think of giving her a third name. Can you imagine ? No one would give that a green light”.

Mierin Eronaile, who was so devoted to Lews Therin but still got dumped, and later on is only thought of by him through a lens of disgust and anger.

Mierin Eronaile, who even as her self-made monster, still managed to resurface whenever her ex lover would slip through Rands lips. Even losing her so well put demeanor.

Mierin sedai, who we first get to know through Rands ancestral. Another connection to the dragon reborn.

Mierin Eronaile, who, just like pandora, uncovered something she didn’t completely understand, and suffered hell for it, along with the world. But unlike pandora, also lost hope in the process.

Mierin Eronaile, who didn’t die, yet somehow, and still came back wrong.

The tragedy of Mierin Eronaile and the birth of Lanfear.

Lanfear the monster born out of desperation, but also choice. A 50/50 dose of both.

Lanfear, Mierins response to the world around her. “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine. Ill be the bad guy.”

Lanfear, the only Forsaken to chose her own name. Lanfear, gripping the reigns of her own story for once. A true rebirth.

Daughter of the night, walker of dreams, dweller in the dark. In direct contrast to Lews Therin, Rand al Thor, “He who comes with the dawn”.

She who brings sleep and dreams. And he who wakes and brings the light. She who lives in and rules this separate, mirrored world. This Unreality. And he who brings new, actual realities, all over again.

Lanfear, Mierins greatest triumph over her own self. It becomes no surprise that she loses her hold on her emotions when Asmodean brings that name to her acknowledgment again.

Lanfear, the shapeshifter. The ever changing mask user. Playing with t’avaren who mold the pattern around them, instead of being dragged and drowned by it.

Lanfear, who hates being called aes sedai. What has serving them all ever brought her? Aes sedai, who turned their back to her when she needed them the most. Even Lews.

Lanfear, who even sworn and bound by literal strings to her soul to the Dark One, betrays him, and actively plots to take him down along with the creator.

Lanfear, who doesn’t give two scents about The Dark or The Light. There’s her side, and against her.

Moon hunter, always eyeing, in search of the unattainable. With a never ending hunger for more. And more. Nothing ever coming close to being enough.

Lanfear, trying to fill a hole in herself reminiscent of Mierin Eronaile, who will probably never heal because she has never known love. And she never will, because that would mean becoming that woman again. And she would never. Ever again.

Daughter of the night, the chosen to free the dark one, the only to pick her own name. And still second in command. Still not good enough. Still unrecognized.

Lanfear, in a constant state of self loathing, but also always boastful, proud to a fault.

The monster who changed herself and keeps on changing, willingly and unconsciously. Who becomes unrecognizable, until, somehow, recognition falls back onto her self. And on, and on, and on. In an eternal loop, just like the wheel of time.

Ishamael who never wanted to be a monster and doesn’t see himself as one versus Lanfear, who HAD to be a monster, who chose to be one to leave behind every pain and weakness from Mierin Eronaile.

Lanfear, the goddess, who is so distant from humanity but still fatally human. Daughter of the night, who can never wake from the dream, and so can never truly go back to being just a human.

Lanfear and Mierin Eronaile, who are the same person and not at all.

[writingsofestella]

vespera - ch. 1

Apostate!Din Djarin x Ex!Jedi!OC -(no use of Y/N ) Canon Divergent - some plot changed for sake of story, the razor crest lives )

tws // general canon violence, usage of blasters and weapons, mentions of death, minors DNI 18+ only, angst, mature content, cursing, name calling, more tags to be added later on

a/n: thank you all so much for the love and support on the last chapter. it means the absolute world to me that you guys would read my silly little story. hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. it's setting up more of the plot this time.

wc: 2716

previous chapter: [here]

She was running. With quick weaves and bobbing, she was swerving through the marketplace. People were angrily yelling, but she paid them no mind as she pushed through. The more distance she put between herself and the bounty hunter after her, the better. Adrenaline filled her, as natural and seconded nature to her now as the Force that ran through her veins.

Another sharp turn, and she was darting down an abandoned alleyway, out of the crowd, out of the sharp sunlight. She could hear, feel the angry footsteps barreling after her, unrelenting and honed in on her.

With a quick glance, she was pushing herself up, climbing up the wall, feet digging into foot holes and hands grasping at barely there indents to pull herself up. Using the Force, she used it to push herself up faster, give her more strength than she felt she truly had.

A blaster shot fired right next to her ear.

It sent debris flying, hitting her in the arm she used to try and protect herself, as she slid down half the wall. Ringing exploded in her ear, feeling how her flesh burned in response to the close proximity. Digging in her nails, she dug in her footing, pushing herself up more frantically now, quicker.

She only got a few more feet up the wall before another blaster shot was firing toward her, this time trying to catch her. She narrowly avoided it, pulling herself up and over the wall, rolling away from the ledge.

"Stupid bitch!" The bounty hunter, a sleazy, worthless example of a man, shouted up at her. "When I get my hands on you, you're going to wish you were dead!"

She simply laid there, trying to catch her breath, chest heaving as she laid on top of the roof, sun and heat bearing down on her. But she was out of his sight. She was safe, for the moment. He wasn't a very good bounty hunter, but to sink so low to calling her names atop of that? She liked having a challenge, sometimes.

Suddenly, the heat from the sun, the light, was blocked from her vision. Her eyes jerked open, and above her stood him.

The Mandalorian.

He stood above her, broad-shouldered, blocking out any light with his beskar armor, head tilted down at her menacingly. Her own personal ghost.

Before she could move, could scream, his hand was darting out to grab her.

She jerked awake.

It was with a choked gasp she took in air, hand coming over to clutch at her chest. Over her racing heart. Her wide eyes took in the woven, sealed roof of her one-roomed home, the familiar texture of the stone and wood of the walls.

Her few belongings scattered about, medical supplies on the table, herbs and other plants on the counter by the sink. Her staff by the door, waiting to be used. She swallowed thickly, letting these familiar things ease her back down from the panic of that dream. Let the adrenaline leave her.

The Force, always present to her, always around, ghosted around her, a warm fluttering feeling, reassuring in its silent way. She let it wash over her, calming herself and grounding herself in what she knew, what was real.

That dream had not been a memory. Nor did she know if it was a vision. It was probably just a nightmare, that worry and fear ever present of having to run again, of having to look over her shoulder.

She pushed herself out of bed, not letting herself spiral down those thoughts. She changed into her day clothes that were hung over the frame of her bed. Simple, loose pants, dark green tunic that hung down past her legs, her worn down boots she laced up and the belt and hat she slung onto herself. Her eyes traveled to that box she kept under the bed, feeling that familiar longing emanating from it.

The weapon inside called to her, another sense of security, another thing connecting her to that which she had left behind, long ago. Her old life she had to abandon in order to survive in this cruel galaxy.

The nightmare had put her on edge, but it was not the first time she had had a nightmare, let alone one with the Mandalorian bounty hunter in it. After her escape from Utov, she had seen him a handful of other times.

He'd almost gotten her once, so close to cuffing her, but she had managed to trick him, slinking away before he could grab her. His angry steps and curses following suit had told her that he didn't have bounties are tricky as her.

That had been almost two years ago.

She couldn't say she was lucky, considering all of the other bounty hunters that had picked up her bounty in that time, but she knew he was still around. She could hear whispers of his travels on the planets she had been on, of other bounties he had captured. It seemed that he just was focusing on the bounties he could catch.

She let herself feel a little bit of pride with that.

Leaving the weapon under her bed, she walked to the staff next to the door, slinging it over her shoulder along with her bag of medicinal supplies and other things she might need. Putting the large sunhat over her head, she stepped out of her little home into the early morning daylight.

She'd been on the planet of Amia for at least a few months now, enough to see the seasons change from their planting season to their growing season, rich in natural vegetation and wildlife. A forested planet on the outer rim that had only one or two major ports, ones which she was far from now.

There was still a mist on the ground, the little village she was set on the outskirts of still sleepy, still waking up. It had become one of her favorite times to walk, to gather her thoughts and herself before the day started. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, the little village set by the edge of the forests that surrounded this planet. There was a river that ran next to it, which led out to the sea.

She followed the worn trails into more of the heart of the village, her feet naturally following the path. It had become routine, almost, and while she knew routines were dangerous with her type of life, with what hung over her head, she found herself in a false sense of security. Not having to run, not having to fight every second for her life. The villagers here didn't exactly trust her, she was an outsider, after all, but they were friendly enough and made sure she was housed, had food, was able to survive on her own.

It was more kindness than she had received in a long time, the last being the older bartender Danthi on Utov, who she hoped was doing alright, even still.

She made her way through the village as it slowly woke up, greeting the other villagers as they woke up and came out of their own homes, some waving and smiling and others simply nodding at her.

Well. Some villagers were friendlier than others, she supposed.

She made her way to the large home in the middle of the village, surrounded by other smaller homes, a sort of meeting house for the village. Everything was made with the local stone, white, and the dark colored wood of the forests nearby. The planet provided everything they needed, really.

It only was this peaceful because of how far it was from anything else in the galaxy, all of the other conflicts and wars.

Pushing herself through the door of the meeting house, she found she was the first inside. Which wasn't unusual, she just liked being early. she went about her routine, setting up her medical station, setting out what she might possibly need to further treat injuries from yesterday and treat the wounds of today.

The planet might have been far from any conflict from others, but there were wild animals in the woods, and accidents happened.

It was her way of contributing to the village, to help make up for the kindness and what they had given her. It helped play into her story she had clung onto. A refugee from the war, a healer who had lost her family, seeking some sort of safety.

It wasn't entirely a lie, at least.

As she settled into her spot, the first of many for the day came in, asking for help with a wound. And her day flew by in a blur of helping people. She said a quick hello to the other young woman who helped with medicinal things, Ghinia, before she was soothing a young girl who'd twisted her ankle.

Telia, she believed her name was.

She soothed the young girl, along with the mother and Ghinia, wrapping it in bandages and making sure it wasn't broken. She was crying, but she wasn't screaming in pain, which was a relief in of itself.

Ghinia and Telia's mother conversed as she finished wrapping up the ankle, talking about fixing the hole near the edge of the village where Telia had fallen into. It hadn't been the first time this hole had opened up, and they couldn't figure out why it kept coming back.

It was this moment, while the two were distracted, that Fyra let her hand hover over Telia's ankle. "Now, I'm gonna tell you a little secret." She spoke softly, a reassuring smile on her face.

The little girl, with tear stained cheeks and big, red-rimmed, teary eyes, sniffled and looked up at her. There was a look of curiosity in her big brown eyes, wanting to know, as all children did at that age. "What is it?" She asked, momentarily forgetting about her ankle.

"Well, did you know that you're my only patient to come in with a sprained ankle not screaming?" She said, smiling, her hand still hovering over Telia's ankle.

The little girl's eyes widened. "Really?" She whispered out. "Even Big Henry screamed?"

Ah. Big Henry. The head of the outlook team here. A man her own age, large and broad and with an ego large enough to fill the entire village.

She simply grinned at Telia. "Yes. But you have to keep this secret between us, okay? You're my strongest patient."

It wasn't really a secret that Big Henry, as the children called him, was awful at managing any sort of pain. For being as large as he was and how he boasted about how strong he was, a simple shoulder dislocation made her scream, the whole village hearing it.

Telia nodded, eyes wide and filled with a new sense of respect for herself, believing she was strong. And that was all it took for Fyra's hand to subtly swipe across the girl's swollen ankle, relieving and healing it with the Force, at least partially.

Instead of being down for two weeks, she'd be off her feet for a few days, most. Which she knew Telia's mother would appreciate, having two other little ones to wrangle up and take care of.

It was hardly the sort of grand scheme or plan she was sure her old Masters had for her when she was a padawan in training, but she was using her natural gifts to heal people, even as little and simple as this.

"Mama, did you hear Miss Fyra?" Telia said, eyes wide and full of wonder as she looked up at her mother.

The mother simply smiled as she finished her conversation with Ghinia, tired, and shook her head. "I did not. What did she say?" She asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice, eyes darting to the healer in question, as if partially worried what the outsider had said.

"She said I'm her strongest patient!" Telia whisper-shouted, as if it was truly something secretive. "Because I didn't scream. At all!"

The mother chuckled, and then bent down, scooping her up off of the chair she'd been on. She settled the young girl over her hip, her daughter becoming almost too big to pick up. "Well, Miss Fyra is right. You are strong. And very brave too." She said, voice full of amusement and fondness.

The mother then looked to Fyra and gave a thankful nod before turning back to Telia. "Let's get you home and cleaned up. Your father and brothers are probably worried sick about you."

"We can tell them I'm the strongest so they don't need to worry!" Telia exclaimed happily, the pain in her ankle almost all gone, almost completely forgotten about. Telia waved from over her mom's shoulder, squirming almost. "Thank you, Miss Fyra! You're the best!"

Fyra felt a smile on her face, a warm feeling in her chest at the little girl's antics. She watched as they left and then she leaned back on her heels from where she'd been sitting in front of the chair Telia had been on.

A hand was offered to her, and she took it, Ghinia helping pull her up. "That's all she'll be talking about for weeks. Now all of the kids are gonna have a competition to see who can scream less." She snorted in amusement. "Clever thinking, girl."

Fyra shrugged, a sheepish but amused look on her face. "If it helps save our eardrums from early deafness, I'll take it." She commented, and brushed her knees of the dirt and dust from the ground.

"So will I." Ghinia chuckled, smiling. She stretched her back out and then glanced outside of the building they were in. "It's getting late. Probably about time to close up for the night and get some dinner."

Fyra nodded, and moved to start cleaning up her station, putting her supplies back away where they belonged, a comfortable quiet between the two women. It was hard to let herself fall into these routines, when her past had been filled with only running and surviving. But this was as familiar to her as the back of her own hands, healing people.

As they finished wrapping up, they closed up the building for the night and left, walking toward the mess hall, where many of the other villagers were walking toward. Torchlights were lit as the sun was setting past the trees, and within the confines of the small village, it felt safe.

Even still, she couldn't help the feeling of the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up. Like she was being watched. Her eyes moved toward the edge of the tree lines, where the torchlight didn't hit.

It was probably just a wild animal. There were many creatures out in the woods they did not mess with after dark. They kept their distance, and the animals kept their own. They roamed the deep woods and only ventured during the night, but they did not leave the woods.

It was why the feeling of being watched made her steps slow, her gaze on the treeline. Her eyes tried to focus, look through the dark, shifting trees, as if she could see… something. Something reflecting the torchlight as it shifted and moved.

Ghinia took notice of this.

"Fyra?" She asked, tilting her head, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

Fyra shook her head, trying to break herself out of the trance she'd found herself in. She blinked and whatever was reflecting the light was gone, disappeared as if it was never there. "Nothing." She brushed off the concern of the other woman. "Just lost in thought."

Ghinia patted her arm and led her toward the mess hall. "Well, food for thought isn't very filling." She retorted with a smile. "Time to get some real food in you."

With that, the two walked toward the mess hall, the glint of metal slinking away further and further into the trees, camouflaged and hidden.

Following and watching the runaway jedi.

all writing is my own. please do not redistribute, repost, or share on other platforms. thank you

[teafangirl]

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poisonous witch

The Landlady x Supernatural

Summary: human Castiel was heading back to the bunker to meet up with the brothers and ended up going through a small town called bath. It was midnight and would've taken him an hour longer to get to the bunker, but exhaustion got to the ex Angel, he decided to stop by an inn and rest for a bit only to meet a strange old lady calling him “Mr Wilkins”. He might end up needing the Winchesters help because they apparently got wind of a case in the area un known to him.

Warnings: language . Poisoning, mention of stuffing bodies. Creepy old lady, Dean and Sam to the rescue. Supernatural twist to the landlady story, but it's mostly the same except for some additions and changes. You may notice a few lines are directly from the story PDF. Maybe light Destiel

A/N; So this story is inspired by the landlady, as you know it doesn't have an ending. I gave it one for a school project, so I'll be using parts of the ending I created for that project as well as doing my own interpretation of this story. This story takes place in supernatural when Cas is human and after the original story of the landlady, so after billy came to the bed and breakfast. One thing you need to know in my ending for the school assignment billy was stuffed, and the lady was taken to prison so It will be explained why she goes after Cas at all. Basically I make her have gone more insane in prison, and she somehow escaped and got her business back up and running somehow even finding more animals to stuff and retrieving the bodies of billy and the other two victims from the original story let it be a plot hole actually I am going to make her a witch so perhaps that explains it. I hope this is still good it was an idea that came after re-watching supernatural season 8 ep 8 the scene where the elderly lady mistakes Cas for her third husband, Charles. You can read this without having read the Landlady. Also, lastly in this Gadreel is still in Sam.apologies for any spelling errors enjoy!

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By the time Castiel rode into the town of Bath, it was almost midnight , normally tiredness wasn't something Cas had to worry about but since he became human it was a problem. As an Angel of the divine Cas didn't need sleep but now as he drove his eyes felt heavy he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a while just so much was going on, for example he was heading back to the bunker to meet up with the brothers they'd been trying to figure out how to stop Metatron. He still didn't know why Dean had kicked him out of the bunker, but Cas supposed he had a good reason. Cas was pulled from his thoughts when his 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V started slowing down and soon came to a stop on the side of the road, indicating it was out of gas again.

“Damn it! I thought I filled it up properly”

The ex Angel mumbled to himself as he rested his elbow on the sterling wheel and sat his head august his palm rubbing his own hair as he sighed in frustration that the car had to go out of gas again. Perhaps the “Winchester luck” was rubbing off on the man, he smiled at that thought. He looked over to glance out of the passenger window the street was calm at this time of night, however he could make out what looked to be in inn just across the road from where his car had stopped, the sign on the inn read “bed and breakfast, prepare to be stuffed with sleep and good food!”.

The place looked like any motal he and the brothers might have stayed in before, so Cas thought he could go there to get some rest and see if someone there could help with his car. To Castiel, that seemed like something a human would do, and he hoped the brothers wouldn't mind. He could call Dean and ask him for help, but Cas wasn't sure if Dean wanted to see him, so he decided to go with his first Idea. Cas unblocked his car door and stepped out, the air was deadly cold and the wind was like a flat blade of ice on his cheeks as an Angel it wouldn't have mattered, but as a human he could feel the sharp stab of the cold. He pulled his tan trench coat tighter around himself, eventually buttoning it as he grabbed his phone and wallet, placing them in the pockets, he closed the car door and headed to the inn. His feet clinked on the ground as he walked with purpose, he felt determined being human had been a toll on his emotions and mental as well as physical well-being since he now had to take care of his bodily functions. His vessel was no longer just a meat suit, it was now his body, and it could be effected by toxins, for example poisons. As he got closer to the motel, he noticed There was a vase of yellow chrysanthemums, tall and beautiful, standing just outside the entrance Green curtains (some sort of velvety material) were hanging down on either side of the window.

The chrysanthemums looked wonderful beside them. He went right up and peered through the glass into the room, and the first thing he saw was a bright fire burning in the hearth. On the carpet in front of the fire, a pretty little dachshund was curled up asleep with its nose tucked into its belly. The room itself, so far as he could see in the half-darkness, was filled with pleasant furniture. There was a baby-grand piano and a big sofa and several plump armchairs; and in one corner he spotted a large parrot in a cage. To Castiel, it all looked comfy, he tried not to focus on anything that might have seemed weird and went to the door placing a hand on the knob and twisting it the door gave way as a bell rang from above. Before Cas could take the room in or even step into the room a little old woman was rushing into the room catching him off guard it was as if shed been watching from the top window or something. Cas didn't know how to react he felt frozen, oddly perhaps it was shock from the thought that the woman probably had been watching him. This woman seemed like a jack-in-the-box, not that Cas knew what that was, he didn't.

She was about forty-five or fifty years old, and the moment she saw him, she gave him a warm welcoming smile.“Please come in,” she said pleasantly and before Cas knew it he had walked fully into the little house and the door slowly closed behind him. The woman smiled again and came closer, Cas watched her with observant eyes as she gestured to a coat rack.

“Here let me hang your coat, you'll be staying won't you.”

It seemed odd she worded that as a statement, not a question, but Cas was indeed staying for one night so he supposed hanging his coat wouldn't be a horrible idea he was tired and itching to get to bed. However, he remembered the matter of his car and as he slipped his coat off he thought what to say.

“My car broke down, and I need a place to stay for the night, do you know of someone who could fix my car?”

He removed his phone and wallet from the coat before putting it on the coat rack, the woman gave him a knowing look then a sheepish grin.

‘Oh Don't worry your room is already ready for you, and yes I will call someone about your car for you…well get it taken care of once you are all taken care of”

She seemed nice.

“How much does staying here cost?”

Cas asked as he caught the woman looking him up and down with blue eyes that were lighter than his own as he felt her eyes roam over him, he felt a tad uncomfortable.

“The cost is ten per night including breakfast, you can pay me when you leave tomorrow!”

Cas nodded, he likely had the right amount in his wallet.

“You take a seat in the living room I'll get you some fresh tea Mr Wilkins”

Castiel was caught off guard by the name, and before he could correct her, she had run off to the kitchen. Castiel who was now just in a white shirt and black pants decided to take a look around the living room he had suppressed his tiredness and let his curiosity wander he was curious why this woman had called hm this Mr Wilkins when he hadn't given a name yet nor had she asked what his name was. Cas walked sound the living room as he approached the bird in the cage he found it odd that it didn't move or make a sound when he approached it strangely didn't seem like it was even breathing Cas also saw a few signs of rot on its wings Cas reached a finger out to gently touch it. Oddly the bird didn't react one bit once his finger touched its wing it felt cold he moved his finger onto its body and was shocked to find it felt cold as if it was dead and had been dead for a long time. As he went to inspect more, he heard the woman walk back into the room and looked to see she was now in a white dress with a Vail and had a tray in her hands. Moving away from the cage and feeling a little on edge, Cas took in her strange appearance the dress looked vintage, and it looked fit for a wedding he watched her closely as she sat the tray down and sat on the sofa.

“Mr Wilkins, why don't you come sit with me, I've made us some fresh tea!”

The woman was now looking Cas right in the eyes, he looked over to his trench coat which was a ways past the couch he felt the urge to leave it was a human urge he had now , instead he kept standing maintaining his distance from her.

“My name is Steve…. Steve Smith, who is this Mr Willkins?”

Castiel had thought up a quick fake name he knew, “Smith” was a fake name the brothers used sometimes. The old woman seemed shocked, as if she hadn't expected to hear his name and was content with calling him what she wanted. However, the woman seemed to mask her expression with a pleasant smile that seemed apologetic.

“Oh, I am terribly, sorry… Mr Smith Willkins is my dead husband…I loved him so much I……”

The woman wiped her eyes with her dress as if she was crying and Cas felt sorry for her he knew that grief was a horrible thing jimmy his vessel had a wife who'd gone through such feelings after Castiel had taken jimmy as his vessel and left he always felt he could have handled that better but back then he was a solider he didn't understand humanity like he had come to he'd come to love humans that was thanks to the Winchesters. He felt himself wanting to go over and comfort her, perhaps that's what she needed, so he did. Cas walked over and sat in front of her on the couch by the tea and put a gentle hand on her arm.

“Sorry for your loss, I assure you he's happy in heaven, he's at peace!”

Since he was no longer an Angel he didn't know where her husband was, but he had seen Dean and Sam lie to make people feel better, tho he did hope what he had said was true and if one day he did become an Angel again he would check for her.

“Oh don't worry Mr Smith, he will be with me soon enough”

He was caught off guard by her words once more but didn't have time to think because she pulled out a box and opened it to reveal a golden ring, it looked old rusted. He noticed she had a matching one on her left ring finger, however the one she wore looked like she hadn't taken it off in years Cas wondered how he hadn't noticed that before nor had he noticed the smell coming from the tea cup it smelled off and now that he thought about it was effecting his body weirdly making him feel dizzy.

“Oh don't worry Mr Smith, all you have to do is put his ring on for me… and say I do… Can you do that!”

It was an order, not a question Cas quickly pulled his hand away from hers and moved off the couch he was a little off balance because of the smell that had been coming from the tea Cas figured she was likely a witch and amplified the smell he knew he needed to get to the blade in his trench coat, but he was unsure if he'd make it. If he was an Angel, this poison wouldn't be effecting him so badly. Backing into the nearest wall and knocking the bird cage over he quickly grabbed his phone from his back pocket clicked it open before the woman caught on to what he was doing, his fingers moved fast as he clicked the call button under Deans name and soon enough he answered.

“Cas, what's wrong…we are in the middle of a case!”

Deans voice filled the room laced with concern and, catching the woman's attention, and she looked at Cas angrily. He had just enough time to put the phone on speaker before she got up and started walking over with a murderous look in her eyes.

‘Hay…you don't look so good Mr Smith…let's get you up to your room, you don't need to be on the phone right now!”

Cas saw that the woman had brought the tea cup with her, which made the smell so much worse he wanted to fight, but her magic was pretty strong or at least whatever shed put in that tea cup Cas imagined it would have worked a lot faster if he had drank it he felt his knees buckle as Deans voice came through the phone again.

“Cas! Can you hear me….?”

Walking could be heard on the other end, it was clear Dean was getting Sam so he could track the call. Cas couldn't answer as the woman moved the tea cup closer he felt his body go weak and numb, he wished he was an Angel again, but at the moment that wa not what he was. The woman's voice is the last thing he heard.

“Don't worry, Mr Willkins will find you as a very fitting host!”

Everything went black for Castiel he felt himself being dragged, he could hear someone yelling cus words that was likely Dean on the other end of the phone cursing out the woman. Soon his body shivered as he felt hands undressing him and the woman's voice cutting through the silence.

“My husband will love this tuxedo on his new body…the three stuffed men will be perfect sacrifices, and I collected all their blood when I cut them open and sewed them back up I do love stuffing all my pets… Oh, how well my plan is going…a perfect older man just happened to walk into my inn…well going to jail was a setback, but that's never stopped me, dear Mr Willkins. The spell will work…this time, I promise! I did what you said…”

It's unclear who she's talking too, maybe her dead husband's ghost, or perhaps the trapped ghost’s of her other victims. those ghosts would likely be freed by her death, Cas didn't know more so he didn't feel like letting her know he was awake. He felt cold metal under his body binds on his wrists and ankles he felt cold and shivered as the woman brushed her hands over his face and hair hastily. Then he heard her leave, and he opened his eyes to find he was strapped to a table there was likely a ruin under the table, he noticed three chairs around the table each had a teenage looking boy on it and they looked dead and where likely stuffed. He then looked to his other side to see a table with bottles of blood and some other tools including a bowl. He tried to break the binds, but then he noticed the same tea cup was placed out of reach above his head and he quietly cused and looked down at himself, noticing he was wearing an old looking tuxedo and the golden ring the woman had tried to force on him earlier. Soon the woman walked back into the room with a few other items but Cas couldn't make them out, the woman saw he was awake and walked over.

‘Don't worry, Mr Smith, I'll remember you as the one who gave my husband life again… Your plush lips will be so fun to kiss once he's in your fine looking body’

A shiver ran down Castiels spine at her words she was clearly insane she had clearly gotten past the stage of grieving now she seemed like a true sociopath who had likely gotten past the simple stage of grieving a long time ago Cases thoughts were cut off as he heard the downstairs front door being kicked open which made a loud thudding sound erupt throughout the building.

“I'll be back Mr Willkins I'll see what the new guests want!”

And with that she left again, Cas took a deep breath,trying to calm himself somewhat, wondering if this was how Dean or Sam felt when one of them got captured by a human monster, not a supernatural one not that those instances probably didn’t scare them a little too. however Cas would call That woman a human monster even tho she was a witch, soon the door to the room opened again and Cas tensed but quickly let out a sigh of relief when he saw Dean standing there.Cas was happy to see Dean who quickly rushed over to him and broke the tea cup, sending it onto the floor which in turn ruined the ruin, rendering the spell useless. Dean put a grounding hand on Case's shoulder as he looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Cas buddy, you still with me?”

Deans voice was soothing , it seemed to calm his bodys racing heart, he hadn’t realized he’d been sweating till just then, he didn’t feel like admitting it to Dean right then but he’d been afraid.. felt fear more than he ever had before he took a deep breath to study himself focusing on Dean and nodded to Dean. Dean got him off the table then informed him that he and Sam had killed the witch.

‘Good…. I think she'll be going to hell!”

Dean nodded in agreement with Caes statement, Dean then revealed that the case he and Sam had been working on was that they had been trying to track down the witch that Cas just happened to stumble into the lair of. Cas leaned on Dean as they left the house and left an anonymous tip to the cops, Dean pulled Cas close to him, perhaps he knew Cas needed him right then! .

“Thanks for the save, Dean!”

Cas voice came out a little weak. Dean smiled at Cas and pulled him into a tight hug as he grabbed Case's coat and wrapped it around him as they left the house.

“Anytime Cas, we always have your back no matter what buddy!”

Cas smiled back at Dean, tho he knew Dean probably wouldn't let him go back to living in the bunker with them, but he wouldn't bring that up now. Somehow Sam had fixed his car and filled it with Gas meaning he could drive the rest of the way to the bunker , did he feel like doing that ,no so he was glad when Dean told Sam to take Case's Car to the bunker and Cas would ride in the Impala with Dean.

Cas ended up falling asleep in the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean drove, and he felt right at home and safe, his mind forgetting the events of this crazy night! Dean looked over at Cas and smiled as music played in the background and the Impala rolled down the road, he decided to go a little slower…taking a little or a lot longer to get back to the bunker just so Castiel could sleep and he could think. And if Sam or the Angel riding him whose name was Gadreel if either of them was mad at Dean later he would deal with that when it happened! Right now Castiel was peacefully sleeping in the Impala Dean was the calmest he had ever been, more so with the ex Angel there at least he could block out the other problems for a while. He was happy he had been able to Save Cas because even tho he might not admit it, the ex Angel held him together sometimes in more ways than one!

The End ☕️

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Ps: read tags if u want ! also i’m still writing Assets and Angels chap 4!

[posthumousvigor]

You know, I think its kind of cool how plot holes and bad writing encourage creativity in an audience. When I was a kid, I thought that the reason Anakin personally late-term aborted all them kids was because he wanted to ensure they were killed quickly and as painlessly as possible. I thought it was some sort of twisted compassion meant to show how his character had become corrupt yet still fundamentally the same. In trying to understand why something without sufficient explanation was happening, I gave the story new depth and meaning. Not like I'm a genius or anything, just an audience member taking part in creation.

I talked to my dad recently about the star war and he was surprised about the whole Force Jesus thing because this whole time he thought it was Palpatine's ~evil machinations~ or whatever. For over 20 years this man thought my boy Sheev abducted shmi and artificially knocked her up little green alien style as an experiment to create the most powerful force user. Which is kind of convoluted but I like it better than Jesus Christ Superstar laser sword edition full color vhs 50% off at walmart. Here's another person building their own art in their mind based on filling a hole (lol) left by the original media.

I mean, it happens in fandom all the time. Idk how many arguments I've seen where one or both people are duking it out based on... something that never happened. But in their beautiful mind palace it happened. And that would be such a wonderful phenomenon if they could only stop whipping out slurs every time they start to lose the argument. Keep on fighting those cuck windmills buddy I'm sure it'll work at some point

I'd still prefer a well written story, obviously, but I just love how people can't help but be creative, even if its 1999 and they're just in the car on the way home from the movies trying to work out what all that midichlorians shit was about. The collaborative process of creation can't stop, even if everyone held hands and agreed to never tag anything as #meta again. Art is never finished.

Anyway remember when everybody was foaming at the mouth over Jar Jar Binks was a Sith Lord theories? Good times

[haircoveredwriter]

Episode 1x04 thoughts

This episode wasn't one of my favorites, not horrible, a decent episode in itself but it felt as though it fell prey to a few of the issues similar ones in s11 of TWD did. I'll get in to those later but first we'll put the usual page break for those who don't want any spoilers.

First the aspects I did enjoy:

After taking a swim in walker-infested waters post his ceiling crash like a drunk Mary Poppins (you're welcome for the reference lol), Daryl strolls through Paris trying to get his bearings and comes to see an older couple inside a house, having tea (perhaps). The woman caresses the side of the man's face across the table which causes Daryl to pause, appearing to be lost in reflection before looking down briefly lost in a memory, only moving on once the nearness of walkers is apparent. Now who is the only person/woman who Daryl has ever stroked the face of/had his face stroked by?? I'll give you 3 guesses but anyone with a brain doesn't need that many and in case you've been living under a rock, please refer to my previous precious gifs post.

Later we get to see Daryl-of-old while he's beating a prisoner he and Isabelle took in hopes of finding Laurent. Having him go back to his early TWD season story-telling ways was lovely while also mixing it with the depraved Dixon he learnt to be from his upbringing meshed very well. (Basically Daryl wanted to create his own R-rated version of "Babe"). He must have read some anatomy books over the years to know where to cause the most damage without hitting vital organs.

Fallou's group using Molotov cocktails during their assault on Quinn's place is something I've been waiting for someone to do in the ZA! Like, seriously! Who wouldn't be using mini firebombs at this point when supplies are low and it keeps you at a distance from your opponent? It's just good sense imo.

Norman and the show itself did a very good job again pointing out that there is nothing going on shippy-wise between Daryl and Isabelle. (I know many a worried about it but there was nothing there from my standpoint) Daryl looked honestly uncomfortable when Isabelle hugged him, returning it lightly after a beat or two but happy to break away to continue looking at anything else afterwards. We also got Isabelle's own words that she has no romantic feelings for Daryl but simply concern for his wellbeing. When you watch the scene, they have Sylvie asking (a young girl who only now has her first ever crush but knows nothing of love) who is not equipped enough in life to be able to discern anything different.

Daryl's expression looking at the mini Statue of Liberty made me smile as well. Knowing he's getting closer to getting home, no matter what other tasks people throw at him, and getting back to his person would make anyone happy.

Overall the episode sets up the plot for the remaining 2 installments, getting us where we need to be for certain other aspects to take place. (Gonna let that be for the moment until the next ones drop 😉)

What I didn't like:

The pacing seemed quite slow and the story arc pretty much went in a circle, finally reaching an end point which we realistically could have gotten in 10 mins of another ep. Several points of the episode felt contrived just to fill up space before they could move on to a main bullet point in the story. (This was my main issue with a fair number of s11 TWD eps).

Isabelle's lack of any fighting skill is really getting on my nerves. How has she survived this long? The answer is probably by making things up and having others protect her/do her dirty work and other not so nice things so I'll relent. I haven't seen worse stabby abilities since early on in TWD ... again, yes I am not gonna say anything if I can't say anything nice.

Why'd they do pigeon man like that?!😒

Genet is equally as concerned about finding a man who blew a hole in her years-long-prepped boat as she is a kid who gives people hope? Mmmkay.

Regardless of it all I am excited for next week. It's gonna be great. Trust me.

[imthefailedartist]

I need to rant.

Sistas is so stagnant. Five seasons deep and we are still on the same plots since season one. He'll in time I'm sure the show is only 5 months away from the first episode and that's being generous.

Tyler Perry puts absolutely no artistry or care into his work, and that's the main problem. If he cared one iota the show would at least be nice to look at. This man has the same lighting for every scene and it's bright white. BRIGHT WHITE LIGHT ON BLACK SKIN. Nigga! Be fucking for real. All these beautiful skin tones washed out, blown out by this fucking light. He complained about David Fincher [unnamed] showing up 7 hours late to set and leaving minutes later because he didn't like the lighting and made them change it before coming back to direct. Perry was upset because everyone on set was being paid hourly for doing nothing because the director was gone. It was worth it. Gone Girl looks great. That's the lesson. Shadows and blemishes everywhere.

We have been with these characters for 5 seasons and I can't tell you shit about their lives or their friendships. FIVE SEASONS 100+ episodes 100 hours of television and the story has not progressed. The characters have not evolved, grown, or matured. Nothing!!! This is bullshit. Tyler wouldn't know character development or story telling if it bit him in the ass and said "I'm character and story development"

The men. I don't even know what to say other than every single one of them is a predator stalker, abuser. Except Zac, and even then, I'm sure his character's development is determined by the actor who plays him ability to improvise his character out of Tyler Perry's shitty character holes. And the worst part is that Tyler Perry thinks all these men with all these giant red flags are good men. Don't believe it? Watch the season three or four Tyler Perry Show after dark Sistas finale episode. The actress' clearly hate their storylines, and the men their characters are stuck with and criticize them only for Perry to combat and refute everything with a very final "but they're good men".

The main issue is that Tyler Perry is an old man who has never listened to anyone, especially if they're a woman. He's writing a show about 30 something Black career women a thing he has never been and knows nothing about.

He loves to brag that his shows are things he's heard real women discuss and to be fair, you can tell that in his shows, but what you can really see is that he hears these conversations but never listens because if he listened these characters wouldn't feel like composites of different stories and they would feel real and we'd see why these women are suffering through these things. They would have nuance, layers, and history. Instead, they have nothing but what this very judgemental man thinks they deserve punishment for.

What he's done to these actors is unforgivable. He gives them very little in the script (per his own admission) and expects them to improvise to fill in the gaps. They try, but it's not enough. It's not their job to keep track of the story or advance their characters it's the writers, the showrunners. They have no time to sit with their characters and costars or director to establish what the direction of a scene or story is supposed to be. All the performances are so stilted. It's like watching those human AI robots talk. It's so awful. I've seen them in other things they are talented but Perry gives them nothing to work with.

I hate it.

All that money and he puts none of it into his work and hiring writers.

I have more to rant about, but I need to go to the grocery store, and honestly, I'm tired of giving him my time, so I'm probably gonna quit all his stuff but the movies because the old ones actually had effort.

[yellow-faerie]

Okay in reference to your tags on the Bode post you reblogged from me: I kinda had a theory you were the anon! And I'm honestly very glad to find someone who feels the same way about him because I haven't seen many other people (other than my sister) who do!

If you don't mind me asking, I have two questions for you: what did you think of the rest of Survivor, and what sort of Star Wars fan fic do you write? I saw you mentioned it in your bio!

Lol I do think I went through a few of your posts before sending that ask - but yes, I do agree! Bode is a lot more complicated than I think a lot of people give him credit for; he's a father and a man haunted by a lot of loss which doesn't excuse his actions, but does explain them and make me feel a good deal of empathy to him. I think there's actually a line when they're in the ISB base where Cal calls him a traitor and Bode is like...no, I'm a father

Which is really not an excuse for killing people Bode (but is a very good explanation for how he got where he is)

You said it a lot more eloquently lol

(interestingly, Bode is a sort of parallel to Anakin in some ways - killing and betraying people they see as family/very close friends for the people they love, even though it changes them into something unrecognisable that the person they love can't quite reconcile with)

I do not mind questions at all!

For fanfic, because that's the shorter answer, I write pretty much anything - legends, Kotor, swtor (to some extent, I haven't played through enough of it yet to do proper fic), og, rebels, tcw, extended universe stuff (and even a bit of the sequels although that has to be veru handpicked lol)

I have interacted with so much of the SW universe to some extent and it's such a good sandbox that I will dabble in writing anything lol

(currently I'm doing a lot of Kotor stuff as I finished survivor and decided to fill the hole with yet another playthrough of my favourite unfinished trilogy <3)

As for Jedi Survivor, Imma put my thoughts under the cut because I have...a lot of them lol (there will be spoilers)

I love the graphics, so SO much

Each planet felt different and unique and reminded me how much I loved to play JFO

Also the worlds felt a lot bigger? I think it's because I didn't really do much side stuff, just kinda beelined the plot so a lot of the side quest stuff was just kinda there as fun background NPC chatter lkl

MERRICAL! MERRICAL! MERRICAL!

It's being survivors of two separate genocides by the same tyrannical government and even when you search elsewhere, you still belong at each others side

And it's the Merrin talking Cal down when he's about to kill Denvik and it's Merrin giving Cal space to work out if he wants a relationship or if that wouldn't work but letting him know her own intentions

That moment on Jedha where she calms him down from a nightmare but then takes her own comfort just by being near?

And it's Merrin in general lol my darlingest fave <3

Also! After that kiss on Jedha after everyone has gone back in, my brother said (as a joke) "and now they have sex!" And then it immediately cuts to morning

Iconic moment

Also on Jedha - spamels! Someone out there went desert creature - so, a camel - a camel in space - so a space camel - a spamel

Which just makes me think of the tinned meat which is a...really weird thing to be thinking about

Greez opened a canteena! Monk, I love him - also Mosey

In fact, all of Ramblers Reach, I really like that they gave you a main base that's so...connected to people in this game??

Also that garden, I could spend all day in that garden

And the High Republic stuff! I still think it's weird that everyone is treating it as if it's ancient history when it's two hundred years ago BUT I really love the aesthetic and the story

I tried getting into the high republic books a while back but only managed one before I had to return them to the library, but this game has made me really excited for the high republic game and has inspired me to try and read the books again

Shout-out to Dagan Gera for being sufficiently unhinged for me to like him, and Rayvis for giving off massive Kotor!Mandalorian vibes

And Bode was a very interesting twist villain as looking back in the game, you can see it almost

(also my older brother called him being a traitor twelve minutes after meeting him which was either incredibly perceptive or he saw it online and is thing to make me think he's incredibly perceptive - either way, he got ridiculously pleased when he was proved right which did not fit with the mood of Cordova's murder lol)

And Kata! It's definitely going to be some time before she fully trusts Cal etc. etc. HOWEVER, we now have a daughter and that is wonderful (I'm living for the found family)

And CERE!

I WAS EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATED IT'S LITERALLY THE SECOND TIME CAL HAS HAD TO CRADLE THE BODY OF HIS DEAD MASTER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THIS HURTS ME

And it was the way Greez was so uncharacteristically ANGRY after Cere's death - and just- dhhfjebidnde

On a less devastating note - Cal, my dude, should have had to have had time to recover from both the slash wound from Dagan and the blaster shot from Bode which were both to the upper torso

Like...they caused enough damage in the fight to be a weakness but you can just walk it off apparently??

I don't think so

(I am going to write fic about this, probably)

Zee - I was so suspicious of Zee to begin with because she was so cheery but her voice kinda sounded like Nikola from the Magnus Archives and like-

Yeah I was fully expecting betrayal from Zee right up until we got back to Rambler's reach and I realised...she's just cheery, that's just her personality

I talked to her the bare minimum lol, I couldn't get creepy talking doll out of my head

That beginning sequence on Coruscant though?? That moment with the Jedi Temple where Cal realises what's happened and you can see the horror and bone deep resignation within him (and that's probably the first time that he properly starts wondering if he can do anything about the empire, after all there's that whole plot where people are like...settle down a bit)

I honestly wasn't that attached to the rest of Cal's crew who died - apart from Mags, literally JUSTICE FOR MAGS 2023, SHE DESERVED BETTER

There were so many little bits that made me genuinely laugh and feel things throughout the game and it felt a lot like Star Wars which is a big thing in its own right

Also Cordova being there threw me off but it was a nice surprise, if a bit weird lol as I was fairly convinced he was dead/in the unknown regions - but hell, I kinda understand it (even if us finding him in the last game might have made his appearance a bit more understandable)

I do have some things I'm not so happy with (some story choices in particular, and the way they presented Cal's slow descent to the dark side being the main ones) but I'm overall really happy with the game

It was the sequel that jfo deserved and it was it's own game in it's own right and I really enjoyed playing it - now I've finished the story, I'll probably stop doing such intense playing, but I do genuinely want to 100% complete it which says a lot, because I don't usually have the patience to do that

There's so much I could probably say that I can't think of now (and I don't think I've said anything about BD-1 which is a travesty of the highest proportions because my boy <3 I missed you <3 I'm so glad you're here and thriving <3) and I'm not really getting into the things I disliked because it would bring the post down (and also I need to be a bit more eloquent and a bit more awake for that one lol)

Anyway, thank you very much for the ask :D it made my evening, ngl, I love talking about star wars

[eevylynn]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @whimsicalmeerkat a while back (which is why I'm posting this on a Tuesday night, but hey, it's Wednesday somewhere in the world)

This is from my Booktoker Derek story. I needed a break from working on my Sterek Reverse Bang, so I figured I'd work on this for a bit

*~*~*~*~*~*

It started unsurprisingly: Stiles was procrastinating doing his essay by doomscrolling on TikTok. He had probably wasted almost half an hour of countless videos of ADHD hacks, the latest dance trend, a few badass women wielding various medieval weaponry, and some weirdly satisfying carpet cleaning videos.

After liking a neat heart-healthy recipe that he’s thinking of trying sometime soon, Stiles scrolled on to the next video.

The first thing he registered was SKIN.

Then, to the beat of the latest trending thirst trap song, the shot zoomed out to show a shirtless man from his large, corded shoulders down past his rippling abs, reading some book that Stiles had seen mentioned by countless women on booktok before.

The camera panned up, revealing more until—

“Holy. Shit.”

It was Derek Hale.

Stiles froze, his thumb hovering above the screen as his brain struggled to catch up with what he was seeing. Derek, perfectly disheveled with stubble framing his jaw and brows furrowed in concentration, was reading the book. His kaleidoscope eyes swept across the page as if genuinely engrossed in the story.

Looking at the bottom of the screen, Stiles saw the username @howlinghemingway.

Well, shit.

Forget his essay, this discovery was much more important. It wasn’t like his essay was even due tomorrow. Stiles still had a week to work on it. Besides, the longer he puts it off, the harder the ADHD procrastination adrenaline will hit, and it’ll probably still be one of the best in class.

With that in mind, Stiles clicked the username to see what other videos Derek had posted as he stood up from his desk chair to make himself comfortable in his bed before he dived on in.

Each video drew him deeper into the rabbit hole. There were videos of Derek discussing plot twists, sharing his favorite steamy scenes, giving writing tips, all while showing Derek in various states of undress while recommending different books. Books Stiles didn’t even know Derek knew about much less owned. Stiles was mesmerized by the way Derek’s sharp cheekbones caught the light, the way his jaw clenched while talking about a particularly gripping part of a story.

One video in particular caught Stiles’ attention. Derek was casually lounging in what Stiles recognized as the library in pack house, the same location as most of Derek’s videos . He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a soft burgundy sweater. Stiles can’t remember ever seeing Derek look so damned soft. That sweater even had thumbholes! Thumbholes! Derek in thumbholes was a level of cozy Stiles wasn’t emotionally prepared for.

But that wasn’t the real kicker.

Derek held up a hardcover novel, his thumb grazing over the title: Crimson Moon by Samuel Blackwolf. Stiles squinted at the screen, confused for a second, until Derek’s smooth voice filled the air.

“Imagine ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ meets ‘Hamlet’, but way steamier. ‘Crimson Moon’ continues Cyrus and Rowan’s forbidden romance. An ancient curse threatens their bond, all while they uncover Cyrus’s dark family secrets. And yes, it’s as spicy as ever,” Derek said, grinning salaciously. “Think forbidden love, secret rendezvous, and intense passion. Unlock the secrets yourself.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped.

Derek Hale, brooding werewolf extraordinaire, was not only a BookToker, but also a secret smut author with multiple books published?!

WHAT?

*~*~*~*~*~*

No pressure tags: @renmackree @endwersed @thotpuppy