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not a thing l part ii
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
part i
summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.
word count: 4.7k
a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!
“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.
You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.
Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.
Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.
Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.
After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.
“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”
“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”
“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”
He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”
“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”
“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”
She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”
The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”
She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.
He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”
“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”
Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.
“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”
Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”
You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.
She was too fucking quick for her own good.
Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”
“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”
Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”
She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”
He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”
“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”
“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.
“Jacket,” You reminded her.
“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”
You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”
“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”
You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”
“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”
“Goodnight, Ellie.”
The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”
“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”
“You need sleep—”
“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”
Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.
“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”
Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”
“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.
An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.
He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.
She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?
Ellie was sorely mistaken.
Joel only kept you around for his benefit.
And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.
Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.
Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.
Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.
But he hadn’t gotten a choice.
It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.
That was it.
A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.
“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”
“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”
“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”
You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.
“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”
“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”
Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”
“Joel—”
“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.
“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.
Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.
Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”
It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”
“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”
You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”
“Fuckin’ spit it out.”
So you do.
“Ellie knows, Joel.”
“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”
“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.
“She saw us?”
“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”
Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”
“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”
You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.
“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”
Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”
“But Joel—”
“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”
Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”
The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.
Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.
He couldn’t even fucking look at you.
Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.
“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.
Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”
“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”
Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”
“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”
Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.
“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”
“Ellie,” he warned.
It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”
Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”
“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”
“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”
“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”
Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”
“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”
Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.
That Joel didn’t know he needed.
“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”
“Listen here you little shit—”
She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”
Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.
“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”
Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.
“No!”
“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”
“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”
Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.
“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.
“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.
Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”
Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.
He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.
But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.
“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”
Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”
#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller hbo#tlou imagine#tlou fanfiction#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n
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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.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x y/n#fanfiction#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie x fem!reader#dark!eddie#mafia!eddie munson#eddie munson fandom#stranger things au#smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#creepy eddie munson#dark fic
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dashboard simulator but with saints
⚔ knight--lover Follow
I ASKED FOR ROMANCE BOOKS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY GAVE ME???!?!??? WHAT AM I LOOKING AT????? 💀💀💀
♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow
nvm this stuffs good 💀
#like actually??? #gonna keep reading these while my leg is still healing #recovery update
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🌹 littlefl0wer Follow
cosplay!
♻️ ⚜ born-to-do-this Follow
Oh this is incredible! I love it!
♻️ 🌹 littlefl0wer Follow
oh my goodness?! thank you so much!! ❤️❤️❤️
#wow! i didn't know you would actually see this! #i'm so happy you like it!! #<3 #edit: we're mutuals now!!!
442 notes
🌟 host-prince Follow
EVERYONE‼ Below is a list of users who are ACTUAL DEMONS. PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM. Just block and report. Stay safe everyone.
Keep reading
#I am not going to add trigger or content warnings to this post as I want people to see it. #However #you are obviously free to add them to your own reblogs if you wish to do so.
15,837 notes
🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow
🤔
♻️ 💧 locustman Follow
???? Uncle???????? What is this????? What does this Mean????????
♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow
👍
♻️ 💧 locustman Follow
???????????????????????????????????? @'mom? Can you explain? Please????
♻️ 👑 mom Follow
Idk
♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow
👍
1,118 notes
⚔ knight--lover Follow
PH M
OH MY GOSH. Ok. Rant incoming.
So there's this guy I'm traveling with and GET THIS: HE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN @/mom's PERPETUAL VIRGINITY?!?!??!?!
I'm thinking of killing him. Like. Actually. I'm not even kidding. I genuinely can't decide whether or not I should kill him.
So you guys should decide:
#rant #my polls #tw antidicomarian #cw antidicomarian #please vote or else i'll just let my horse decide for goodness' sake
216 notes
👑 mom Follow
Alright, someone tagged me on @knight--lover's poll so this is my response to it:
♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow
Hm. I'll think about it.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
♻️ 👑 mom Follow
YOUNG MAN.
#Ignatius. Come on.
523 notes
🐭 martin-n-mice Follow
Wow! I've just found a ton of these little guys in a part of the monastery I've never been in before!
♻️ 👤 purrtrude
seems like your monastery needs one of these
♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow
NO!!
♻️ 👤 purrtrude
what? don't like cats?
♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow
I LIKE THE MICE!!
♻️ 👤 purrtrude
if you could save all the mice in the world, would you if all the cats starved to death?
♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow
??? What?????? I am so confused.
Are you implying that cats only eat mice, and if they couldn't, then they would just. Die? What is happening.
♻️ 🕯 claaaaaare Follow
Hey, @fraaaaaancis. Just curious how you would solve this.
♻️ 🐺 fraaaaaancis Follow
Hm. Well, it seems that St. Gertrude's situation is implying that you could only save either all cats or all mice with no survivors on the other side. To me, she is just asking which animal you like more.
There is really nothing to solve? This whole situation is very strange.
♻️ 🐱 gertie-the-kitty Follow
THATS NOT EVEN ME??? WHO IS THAT THAT IS NOT ME
@host-prince @host-prince @host-prince??????
♻️ 🌟 host-prince Follow
purrtrude is definitely Not You.
♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow
OP is this your post?
♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow
#wghhhhghghhh #i just wanted to show off the mice...... #they're living happily by the way! i bring them food!
374 notes
🎨 luke-the-artpostle Follow
#my art #artists on christblr
1,852,658 notes
🐲 marthamartha Follow
look at this Thing. with that look you would probably think that the man just so happened to crawl in its mouth. what a Creature.
anyways does anyone have a sword
♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow
WILL PEOPLE IN THE NOTES STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP IT??? AS IF IT HASN'T KILLED PEOPLE?????
in case anyone forgot, this is a literal DRAGON
♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow
@turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side???????????? what??????????
♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow
I fail to see what needs explaining. Where did it live?
♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow
I-
Ok. It lived in the water.
♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow
hm. Maybe it would taste like fish?
♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow
Maybe. I honestly don't know what the townspeople did with the body. They just asked me for help 🤷♀️
♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow
#??????????????? #I am somewhat concerned for you two #(for all of my mutuals actually but as of seeing this post right now I am very concerned for Lawrence especially) #But I shan't say that I'm surprised considering that Lawrence told jokes while he was burning alive #and now that's his username for some reason #As a fellow joke-maker I suppose I admire that? #But as a human being I am concerned
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But that is how the guilty speak 💙
yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 6.1k words
summary: how does neuvillette go about getting your attention? by trapping you in a kafkaesque nightmare.
reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever
tags: neuvillette SUFFERS, a little angsty, pining, ooc neuvillette for the purposes of yandere, oral, he’s a gentleman all the same
a/n: so this is basically a yandere version of “the trial” by franz kafka. happy birthday neuvillette!! happy neuvillette day!
tws: yandere, stalking, dubcon, manipulation
i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]
——💙——
“Chief Justice Neuvillette would like to see you today.”
For the first time in days, you let out a sigh of relief. You barely feel like you’ve been given any room to breathe ever since you woke up to the Gardes outside your door, Gardemeks in tow, arresting you for a crime… that they had not yet revealed the nature of.
You’d been detained- first within your home, then at the Palais Mermonia, being taken care of to the highest standard both times. You didn’t have to cook- meals were delivered to you in a timely fashion. Come a certain point following lunch, a hot drink and small selection of cakes would be delivered. Afternoon tea. You were being given afternoon tea as a prisoner of the law.
Were all detainments this luxurious? you had wondered, opening your daily copy of The Steambird a few days in. When you had started your stay at the Palais Mermonia, it had felt like an all-inclusive resort. Which was a shame, since it really would have been more comforting had anyone actually explained to you what was going on. You’d tried to pry this answer from the Gardes many times, but were met with indifference. Did someone slander you? Did you sleepwalk your way into criminal activity? Day by day, the firm grasp you had on innocence started to waver. It never completely slipped- no, the deep confusion presided above all else- but there were moments of wondering what could have gone so, so wrong to warrant this. You had counted all your sins, listed all your inadequacies, and failed to come to any reasonable conclusion. Within the eyes of the Gardes, you were completely at the mercy of a higher authority.
Now, after three weeks of detainment, you’d finally meet that higher authority. The only authority that now mattered to you. Well aware that most meet Chief Justice Neuvillette within the context of court, you desperately hoped these circumstances meant that nothing serious had occurred. Your most recent theory involved being in witness protection, and perhaps he’d explain-
“Come on. He’s waiting.”
Shaking out of your racing thoughts, perhaps a little maddened by the persistent loneliness and alienation, you obediently followed the Gardes. When you finally entered the room, he stood up from his desk to greet you.
“(Y/N). Come, have a seat. I have prepared tea. I trust this beverage choice is acceptable?”
You nodded, sitting down on one of the sofas where a teacup sat on the table before it.
Neuvillette had sat down opposite you, a small chalice in front of him. Midday wine?
“You can have water instead, if desired.” He said, raising the chalice before taking a sip. So it was just water?
“No, no. This is lovely. Thank you, Chief Justice Neuvillette.”
“Neuvillette is fine.”
“I see. In that case, thank you Neuvillette.”
He nods. You nod. You can’t stand staring into his eyes anymore. You pick up your teacup with a soft clank against the saucer and look down into it after taking a small sip. You hope you didn’t accidentally slurp it too loud. The room is chillingly silent, so quiet that you can hear your blood pumping. He sets his chalice down on the table. You wonder if you should speak. You decide against it.
“How are you?” Neuvillette says suddenly, almost as if remembering he even intended to ask.
“Oh, I… well, I’m fine, but I am very confused.” You respond, a small laugh following. It does little to alleviate the tension.
“I see. That is understandable, given your circumstances.” The tone isn’t cold, but it isn’t warm. It is simply spoken gently, like a hesitant hand making its way onto your shoulder.
He pauses. You nod, still looking away from him. Desperate for him to explain without seeming too concerned with your state of affairs, you meet his eyes again and are thankful when he takes this as a cue to continue speaking.
“Speaking of which, your circumstances have been difficult to navigate indeed. It is a case I have been personally reviewing since the start of your detainment. My deepest apologies for the confusion.”
Sensing sincerity in his voice, you decide to tentatively prod a little. “May I please know more about the case itself?”
He takes in a breath before continuing, gaze dropping to the floor briefly. “It is so mountainous that I am unsure where to begin. I can, however, tell you that you must be protected in order to not disturb the crime scene or convene with any third parties.”
You try to still your hands as you reach for your teacup, hardly satiated by his answer. Ruling out neither being a suspect or being a witness, it was so vague and meaningless he may as well have not answered you at all.
“I see… I think. Are you unable to divulge any details about the case to me? I- I’m sorry to be rude, it’s just, these three weeks-“ You begin, trailing off at his palm steadily raising. You silence yourself before taking another sip of the tea, willing your eyes to meet his once again as you sit back.
“There is no need for apologies. It is I who should be apologising to you. Many things about the case are strictly confidential. Guilt or innocence do not matter at this stage. Only the necessity of the actions taken.”
Your body slumps in defeat as your mouth asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Will I need to be detained any longer?”
“Yes. Indefinitely, I’m afraid.”
Fists clenching and unclenching in your lap. A sharp intake of your breath. Eyes begin to water. A desperate attempt to hide the tears is made by slouching forward, staring intently at the ground.
“It’s just that I haven’t been permitted to see my family or friends all this time, they’re probably worried about me…”
Neuvillette rises from his seat and comes quickly to your side, placing a hand on your back. You jolt, but Neuvillette does not falter. As it rubs in small circles, strangely comforting, strangely- strangely warm- he says, “Please, do not fret. It may be slightly inconvenient, but there is an alternate arrangement that would give you more freedom, should you desire it.”
Of course you desire it, of course, whatever price, you’d be willing to pay it to make this extended stay in purgatory any less isolating.
“What is it?” You sniffle.
Neuvillette remains silent for almost too long. You swear his hand presses just a little firmer on your back, almost to prevent you from sitting back up.
“An arrest via supervision. My supervision, to be precise. So long as you are by my side, any danger- whether towards you or from you- is suitably negated. Unfortunately, this does mean that you must accompany me to various trials and affairs. Would you find this satisfactory?”
Actually, it almost sounded too good to be true. You found your body relaxing. The Iudex would be looking after you, offering you a privileged view of the inner workings of his life- a topic of much discussion in Fontaine. You’d continue to eat well, you could likely communicate with others freely-
“Yes,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “I just want to be able to see my loved ones again.”
His hand finally leaves your body, leaving a residual warmth. “Very well. You may make the necessary arrangements to see these people after completing the paperwork. And… it is best if you tell them you have taken on new work at the Palais Mermonia in the meantime.”
“Of course,” you say, finally drinking the rest of your tea. “Thank you, Neuvillette.”
When he sits down at his desk, there is an almost imperceptible smile on his face. Is this the unselfish joy of helping the common folk?
“The pleasure is all mine.”
——💙——
Being permanently by Neuvillette’s side could almost be considered pleasant. There is the confinement, the unwarranted surveillance, but there are plenty of amenities alongside those.
He is not much a conversationalist, but he will speak to make your experience more bearable. Your meals come at regular intervals, and there is no shortage of things to do around the Palais Mermonia. Most days. There is, unavoidably, occasional boredom, quelled by walks outside and the arrival of new books and trinkets. He takes you to all of Furina’s plays that you can possibly attend, which you rather appreciate. Backstage, she once brings up that she’s happy Neuvillette now has a personal assistant to lighten his workload. Neuvillette does not disagree, and you nod. Beyond the remnants of her previous facade, Furina is kind and thoughtful, but you often wonder if your presence provides a comfortable buffer between her and Neuvillette. Often she talks only to you as Neuvillette stands there, watching in silence. It does make you wonder though, how despite being the ex-archon of Fontaine, even she is not privy to your situation.
Well, Furina may not be an official anymore, so perhaps there is really no need to know that you are technically Neuvillette’s prisoner rather than his assistant. Still, an accumulation of small things surrounding your circumstances grows, serving to both frighten and puzzle you.
The first is something you can never quite grow desensitised to, and it’s that… come nighttime, Neuvillette seems intent on checking if you are in bed, as if you were a child.
“I must apologise for reminding you, but it is standard practice in many prisons to ensure inmates are actually going to sleep at night.” He had told you one evening, when you tried to present your dismay as jokingly as possible. You personally feel him coming into your room (his guest room) to ensure you are adequately “tucked in” is not comparable, but you refrain from saying this.
You are also not allowed an alarm clock, so he wakes you up as part of his morning routine. The first face you see upon waking, the last face you see before sleeping.
There is also the fact that having constant access to the man in charge of your detainment should be useful in terms of information, but he doesn’t let on to anything at all.
You’re very careful not to upset Neuvillette. You are aware that your situation is a privilege, that the ease of being able to see people outside of him- simply telling him when you will be gone, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back- is a pretty good deal when compared to everyone you know finding out you’re under arrest and having to fill out paperwork to approve any actions.
Still, with every day that passes, your situation grows more nonsensical. There are never any updates on your case, though Neuvillette promises he’ll tell you as soon as he’s able to provide you with information. You continue to be in the presence of the most important authority in the entirety of Fontaine. You feel like you’re freeloading every time you eat, and end up helping Neuvillette with the simplest of tasks in his office to ease this. Your attendance to every trial, witnessing the necessary coldness of Neuvillette’s impartiality, makes the subtle way his face softens upon seeing you all the more obvious. You find yourself imagining him doing everything alone, perhaps with the occasional appearance of Furina, before your detainment. Eating most of his meals alone. Walking out after a particularly challenging trial and talking to only a few Gardes on the way. There is no such person that he approaches and asks, “Shall we depart?”- a formal question that really means Let’s go home. Nobody asks him what he’s thinking about afterwards, and there are no excuses to unwind upon reaching his residence. At the start of your detainment with him, he would comb through files immediately after removing his robes. Now he joins you on the sofa, spring water in hand as he either converses with you or listens to you flick through pages of a novel. And it’s strange to admit, but you’re starting to be able to taste the difference between each nation’s water, a symbol of your proximity to him.
You learn more about him than you thought you’d ever know. The tabloids would pay good money for any of it, but you’ve strangely started to consider him a friend rather than a jailor, and it wouldn’t feel right. Besides, you highly doubt Neuvillette would permit you to exit his supervision just to talk to disreputable reporters. You try your best to make the most of this strange existence, settling into his routine, and becoming part of his life.
One day, a melusine detective skips into his office, files in hand. It’s not one you’re unfamiliar with, having spoken to many of the melusines that enter, leave, and work in the Palais Mermonia.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, we must discuss this case a little further before proceeding.” She explains, brows furrowing, but when she looks up from the case files, you catch her eye.
“Ah, hello Miss (Y/N)! It’s lovely to see you. Monsieur Neuvillette, is Miss (Y/N) allowed to be in the room for this discussion? Or perhaps we should depart? My deepest apologies, Miss (Y/N).”
“I understand if not,” you pipe up, shuffling papers around on a table. “If it’s related to my case, or-“
“You have an active case, Miss (Y/N)?”
You’ve seen melusines forget things many times before, but this one, looks… positively puzzled.
“I… do.” You say tentatively, glancing to Neuvillette.
He looks rather stunned, but it’s only a deduction you could’ve made after weeks of seeing his face and neutral expression.
“Yes, but it has moved past the need for the Marechaussee Phantoms. It is perfectly fine for Miss (Y/N) to stay in the room.”
“Ah, I see! I hope everything resolves quickly, Miss (Y/N).”
“Thank you.” You say quietly.
You start to feel, more overwhelmingly, that there is something deeply wrong.
That night, he approaches your room for his regular checking-in of you. You’re sitting upright in bed, staring into space, thinking of how little you’ve seen of your own home in the past few months, thinking of how much of the world you now consume through a Neuvillette-vetted filter, thinking of how much gratitude you should actually feel about everything- until a gentle knock on the door stirs you.
When you tell him to come in, he wears only his slacks and dress shirt, robe abandoned, and downcast eyes.
“I regret that this is taking so long, (Y/N).”
The rain patters against your window.
You sigh quietly. “… It’s alright. You can’t help it, can you?”
A howl of wind.
“I can’t. I do wish I could.”
Lashes of rain now batter against the glass in quick succession.
“Then there’s no need to apologise.”
He stands in silence, still looking down , and you turn away from him, looking out to the dismal weather. There is such a profound sadness emanating off him that you’d do anything to take his mind off it.
“Hey, is the “hydro dragon, don’t cry” stuff real?”
You expect him to laugh and tell you no.
“Only some of the time . It’s true that I have quite a powerful connection to the waters of Fontaine.”
“What about this time?”
You look back to him, finding that he’s staring blankly ahead and out of the window.
“This time… cannot be helped.”
——💙——
“Thank you. I may just have to take you on as my real assistant when we escape our current circumstances.”
You laugh, trying to hide any sense of unease. The files you had just handed him were merely sorted by date, a task that a child could do. “There’s no need to flatter me. I know you managed perfectly fine before I was around.”
“Did I..?” He mumbles. It’s so unlike him that you do a double take.
“I mean, you sorted everything on your own, right?”
“Most of the time. Perhaps it’s more accurate to assume that I appreciate your company.”
Fighting off the surprise from the sudden compliment, you manage to say, “I appreciate yours too, Neuvillette.”
You’re unable to tell if it’s a lie. He’s more than just company. He’s your entire life, at this point.
But you see the corners of his lips twitch, and the way the sunlight seeps into his office fills the room with warmth. It’s hard not to be touched by a moment like this. It’s harder to refrain from asking about the status of your case. Something inside you, a primal form of fear and unease, steels you in the face of both challenges.
——💙——
Even though Neuvillette may be the Iudex, overseeing all legal proceedings in Fontaine, he seems to hold the nature of your case above you like some metaphysical higher power. Whilst your own autonomy belongs to the court, the Iudex acts based on his principles, and the intangible whisperings of your own proceedings. You are trapped in a state that possesses neither the luxuries of innocence nor the condemnation of guilt. You don’t often dare to proclaim innocence in front of Neuvillette- should you require to, it will be within the Opera Epiclese. In the face of the entire law, defending yourself without any knowledge of what laws have even been broken has an awful pointlessness to it.
You also don’t like bringing your case up because you swear it always rains.
Both you and Neuvillette are aware that every passing day is a test on your patience. It intensified a few weeks ago when he had turned down your request for a trip to Liyue in order to visit a friend.
“There is too much on my schedule for that week. Perhaps the following month, I will have the time to escort you.”
“Why not have someone else escort me? Surely it’s well within your power-“
He drops his pen, standing up, as if to remind you of his authority. “You would be too far away from me. Our agreement clearly states-“
“Our agreement? To protect me? To protect people from me?” You laugh bitterly. “It’s been months of this. Nothing has happened, and from my perspective, nothing has changed behind the scenes. And you’re telling me I can’t have the weekend to visit a friend on her birthday?”
He remains impassive, yet a stress in his voice betrays it. “Anything could happen, (Y/N). I ask you to respect my decision on this, and trust it is within your best interests. I am more than willing to make all the necessary arrangements to send her a gift for the meantime.”
There is nothing else to do but accept defeat. The apologies, the ordering of your favourite foods, the, “I understand you’re upset with me”, and the, “Please know I wouldn’t be doing this without reason”- all serve to put salt in the wound.
With all your free time, it was only natural that you would eventually end up picking up a law book.
You’re allowed to take any book you want so long as you return it to where you found it, but the sudden interest in Fontainian law may be… suspicious. So you slip the heavy law books between novels and case retellings, bringing them to your room where you would be away from his watchful eyes. It takes a while to ascertain the correct volume, but you eventually manage to borrow the one on Fontainian laws of arrest and detainment.
You slot a bookmark about two thirds of the way through the book.
Part Seven: Wrongful Detention.
If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. And he knows you take books often, so one missing volume shouldn’t be a cause for concern. Within the volume, you hoped to find anything that could prove your detainment was unlawful, present this to him, and… hope he agrees?
You could kick up a storm in the Palais Mermonia. Wayward comments about how the Iudex violated the law, that not all citizens of Fontaine are treated impartially. The plan would come into fruition later- for the meantime, you needed to read.
Thumbing through the pages and observing the tiny size of the text, you grimace.
——💙——
“I’m going upstairs to read.”
His gaze follows you from where you hang up your coat to where you shuffle out of your shoes.
This time, there is no, “I see. Enjoy yourself” for you to hum at before leaving the room.
“Have you been particularly immersed in a series as of late? It seems this is now the only activity you do when the workday finishes.”
“Yes,” You respond. “I’m quite into it. I need to see how it ends.”
“I understand. The detective novels of Fontaine can be quite enthralling.” He tells you, with a sense of finality. You were expecting him to ask you what the series was. You were prepared to make something up, but it appears there is no need.
You continue reading the law book, switching it out for a light novel when Neuvillette normally knocks on your door and tells you he’s getting ready to retire for the evening, and if you’d like to join him downstairs for tea. You do, bringing the novel with you so suspicion isn’t aroused.
When you return upstairs, you switch it out once more with the law book, hiding it when Neuvillette arrives to ensure you’re in bed, wait until you hear his own bedroom door close, and then take it out again.
Reading under the dim light of your portable lamp, you must’ve been so engrossed that you hardly noticed him approaching.
“Oh? Pray tell, what has kept you up so late?”
Because suddenly he’s in your doorway, no knocking, and swiftly stepping over to you and your small desk.
“I-“
“Ah, the missing volume. You know, when studying law, it is generally recommended to start from volume one, which I don’t recall you taking.”
Your eyes are frozen to the book in front of you, despite feeling Neuvillette’s imposing presence behind you.
“Part Seven…” He murmurs, a finger tracing the header on the page. He’s completely leaning over you now, and you swear you can feel hot breath tickling the top of your head. “… as I suspected.”
He swiftly closes the book before stepping back from you, telling you to get out of the chair. You’re expecting him to guide you back into bed, tell you he’ll deal with you in the morning, but he doesn’t. With a hand placed on the small of your back, he guides you out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs. He motions for you to sit on the sofa before he busies himself in the kitchen with making tea.
When the tea is placed in front of you, you look up. There is no anger in his eyes like you thought there would be. There is only a forlorn expression that portrays deep loneliness.
“I know I owe you an explanation.” He says, sitting down beside you. You can hardly stand to look him, but see his face turned towards you in your peripheral vision.
His arms are wrapped around you before you can stop him, and you’re hauled into his lap in a swift motion, much to your dismay. “Please relax,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you.”
And you stop struggling, if only out of fear, the implication that he could hurt you if he desperately wanted to. You feel his face bury itself in the crook of your neck, an intimacy so foreign that your body jolts involuntarily.
“I have failed you greatly,” He mutters into your neck, “Centuries of impartiality, and…”
His arms tighten around you, squeezing you like he’s afraid you’ll slip out and seep through the floorboards.
“One person, one person to myself… all I ask… one person I would not turn my back on for the sake of my principles, I… I am deeply sorry you had to be the unlucky individual, (Y/N).”
There is nowhere for you to run, unable to move, locked in his arms. So instead, you speak.
“From the top, we can fix this,” You whisper, knowing he’s paying earnest attention to every word. “I wouldn’t tell anyone if you let me go.”
And what good would it do anyway?
He inhales sharply, giving you another squeeze. “I cannot do that. But what can I do? Countless nights have been spent lying awake, trying to orchestrate a true, unselfish reason for you to remain by my side,”
You continue listening, not daring to speak a word through his shaking breaths.
“When the desire first arose, I thought it better to hold you between judgement and ambivalence. It went on for too long. I see that now.”
The rain outside is more intense than you’ve ever seen it. A gust of wind seems to rush through his residence, and a door slams. Desperation. It is as if the storm wishes to claw at the doors, to be let in, to wreak havoc.
“Was there ever a case?” You breathe.
“Yes. You were being framed for a theft, but it was such a baseless lie that bringing you to court would have been unnecessary. It was over before you were detained at the Palais Mermonia.”
You clench your fists so tightly that you can feel nails digging into your palms. “Why me?”
He sighs like the whole world is collapsing onto his shoulders.
“There was a certain power in keeping you prisoner. I indulged this idea, of a person that wouldn’t need to be judged, constantly in the throes of the law. Neither innocent nor guilty. I was so lonely, (Y/N). I wanted to be able to share feelings with someone. I originally brought you to the Palais Mermonia to apologise formally but the more I observed… the more I yearned for something I could not otherwise have.”
You let yourself be cradled by him, let him slowly rock you as if you’re the one in emotional turmoil. In truth, you are betrayed- and painfully bitter about it- and perhaps angry at everything, perhaps scared, but Neuvillette is the least composed you have ever seen him. Time enters becomes a trickling sludge as his grip on you loosens just enough to allow movement, and you sip tea that’s already starting to go cold.
“I can’t ask for forgiveness. But please, please stay.”
“I can’t be a prisoner forever.” You admit, hanging your head.
Because in spite of everything, all the wrongs, there is a sense of pity. A hand of yours has been involuntarily plunged deep into his heart, and now that your fingers are wrapped around the glass core, you’re afraid it may shatter. Gently, you will let him down gently, and you will be free.
“You’ve always been more than a prisoner. Promise yourself to me. Marry me. Please, don’t let me rot like this forever. I beg you.”
“M-Marry you?” You sputter.
“I know those proceedings are of great significance to humans, so perhaps for the meantime you could accept engagement. The timing of our mating doesn’t matter.”
You attempt to shuffle off his lap, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Time for a new strategy.
“Neuvillette… I’m flattered, but you know, I’m very much mortal-“
“An easily solved problem if you choose to become my mate.”
“- well, still-“
“Could you indulge me? Please, could you lend me the honour of experiencing union and understanding, even if merely once?”
His hand slides down to your thigh, not groping, not provocatively slipping upwards, but resting, slightly trembling.
As you manage to swivel around, and stare into his draconic eyes, you find yourself faced with centuries of near-imperceptible pain. His gaze doesn’t waver. You could drown in it.
Swimmers caught in rip currents shouldn’t waste their energy swimming against them. Rather, they should allow the current to take them so they can find a safe route back to shore.
You stop swimming against the current. An act of submission to the natural world. Finally, a whisper, barely recognisable as your own voice, speaks for you.
“Alright.”
And he pulls you beneath the surface, gently laying his lips on yours, slow, sweet, and soft.
——💙——
You follow him upstairs. He had offered to carry you, but you’d declined. You don’t think he takes offence, he only nods, coaxing you up every step like he fears one wrong move will send you fleeing.
He holds the door to his bedroom open for you. “Come in, now. Make yourself comfortable.”
You take a tentative seat on the side of his bed, watching as he unbuttons his shirt- most likely an old one, a few tears clumsily sewn up along a sleeve- and when he approaches you, undoubtedly catching how your eyes rake over his chest, his hands pause at the top of your silken pyjamas.
“May I?”
When you nod, it only takes a split second for his two hands to greedily yank the edges, sending every last button flying across the room. You gasp, nearly raising your arms to cover yourself but are beat by Neuvillette’s large but slender hands suddenly kneading at your breasts. Thumbs carefully circling around the buds, then pinching, squeezing, twisting. His hands find themselves under your arms, forcing you back onto the bed- you swear your body is practically lifted at some point, all of the strength he tends to keep subdued now on full display. Loose strands of his hair tickle your face as he leans down to kiss you, a far cry from the previous one. This is a kiss borne of starvation and avarice. He’s so warm against you, you can smell a light cologne, something resembling scented woods and the sea.
“We should get these off, too.” He says, not waiting for any input before two fingers hook the elastic of your pyjama bottoms and pull down. He guides them off your thighs, letting you wriggle out of them and discard them on the bedroom floor with a weak kick until you lie fully naked beneath him. He clambers off you for a moment, merely observing your form on his bedsheets as he kneels by your side. It’s hard not to admire his beautifully sculpted body, shining in the pale moonlight. His hands guide your legs open as he repositions himself and bows down ever closer to your core, where an embarrassing amount of heat has started to build. He’s between your legs, kissing all the way up your thigh as if it were you that was the deity, sucking and biting harder the closer he comes to your slit. His hand gropes your opposite thigh to balance himself, and his face pauses- so close you feel his breath fanning over your pussy, long enough for you to raise your head and see him staring right at you with draconic pupils blown wide.
“Now, please, allow me to prove my devotion.”
That’s when a finger prods at your entrance, slipping in all too easily, lips locking around your clit and sucking tenderly. Sensing the lack of resistance, another finger joins the first, curling slightly as you jolt upwards. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, something shameful and neglected coiling tighter at your core, growing stronger as his tongue flicks at you and fingers curl.
“Neuvillette!” You gasp. His intensity bears so much contrast to the usually composed man you see in front of you. Now, between your legs, he laps at you like a man possessed.
With two fingers continuing to pump against your clenching walls, his tongue continues to work at your clit, applying pressure in all right places. He’s exploring your body, fingers wavering, changing angles, figuring out what makes you jolt, what makes you whine, and best of all, what prompts you to whisper his name like a prayer. When his pace slows and his fingers are hardly moving inside of you, you beg so sweetly for him- little “Neuvillette”s and “Please, please”s- , and he delivers. You’d never have expected him to tease so much.
It’s really just that he’s doing anything to make you speak for him. Every whimper is an admission of guilt, you do want this, you want him, and it is beyond plausible deniability. That’s why he slows. That’s why he pauses. He needs to hear you say it for him. You deduce this fairly quickly, and embarrassingly, give in to every silent demand.
When his pressure loosens, when the fingers finally slip out, you twitch, crying out his name so he can finish you off.
“Patience, dear. You’ll be taken care of soon.”
He removes himself and you shuffle around on the bed, sitting up briefly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and resisting the temptation to finish the job yourself. He takes a handkerchief from his nightstand to wipe himself off, ever the meticulous one, refusing to look away. His gaze pins you in place, prevents a hand from slipping down to your neglected pussy. It’s only in full of view of you that he finally fully strips himself, hardly letting you get an eyeful of his shaft before he’s pushing your chest backwards, eyes full of adoration and slipping his warm hands under your thighs, moving your legs into the air, bent at the knee. His lips press down on yours so fondly as the head of his cock prods against you.
“Lift your head for me, beloved.”
And you obey as reaches over you, tip clumsily bumping against your slit. A pillow is placed beneath your head, feather stuffed, angling you perfectly to stare into his eyes.
He wants you to look at him.
“Perfect.” He breathes, positioning himself to slide into your cunt, a hand ghosting over your own and intertwining fingers.
Neuvillette moves so slowly, almost as if he’e being careful not to break you. You feel every inch of him sink into you, one by one. You close your eyes, fluttering them open every few seconds as he moves leisurely. His own gaze refuses to deviate from you, and a thumb strokes your cheek.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have this forever?” His voice rumbles. “Have each other… forever?”
You open your mouth to respond- that’s not what we agreed to, that’s not-
But he bottoms out, pushing against you, and all you can manage is a wanton moan as you throw your head back.
In the back of your mind, you know Neuvillette is far too scrupulous to allow you to part from him after this. This is all of him, in front of you, and every inch buried inside of you. This is more than a taste of union.
He starts rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, feeling your walls clench around him. You swear you hear a growl rise from his throat, and a hand slowly starts to palm at your clit. You can feel Neuvillette’s every breath shudder through his body, every human constriction forced on his form. You can feel how he tries to control himself and move with grace, but also how his fingers simultaneously start to rub more frantically at you. Every sensation across your body is all him, all Neuvillette, a presence so overwhelming you can barely think of anything else. As you come closer to the edge, you sink into this feeling. No longer caring and with all shame abandoned, you call for him desperately, the only person that can possibly give you what you need.
And he does.
With his cock hammering in and out of you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and fists tighten around bedsheets, alongside his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area, you cum so hard you see stars. You moan out his name one final time, spasming around his length as your eyes roll to the ceiling. Neuvillette continues to indulge himself within you, letting you ride out your orgasm with his persistent thrusts. He quickens, almost bordering on overstimulating you, but eventually pulls out, streaking white across your chest as he leans down and steals one final kiss. Forceful and desperate, he kisses like it’s his last chance to prove his love for you.
Perhaps it is. You feel him mutter something against your lips.
I love you.
Your stomach turns as the reality of the situation comes crashing down.
Trembling slightly and stepping back, the first question from his lips is, “Are you alright?”
It takes a short delay before you force yourself to meet his eyes, now donning an expression of concern. “Mm, yeah, just let me-“
You start to rise but Neuvillette shakes his head. “Please, let me wipe you off first.”
You end up staring blankly at the ceiling as he runs a handkerchief over you, swiping gently at your skin.
“I shall prepare a bath for us. Wait here. Relax.”
That’s the last you remember before he leaves the room. Alone with your thoughts, nothing seems to make sense. You take in all four corners of the ceiling and don’t do much else. It’s as if you’re temporarily suspended in a dreamlike state until Neuvillette reenters the room. He scoops you up from the bed and cradles you against his chest as you make your way to the bathroom. You think he presses a kiss or two against your forehead. You’re not sure. Half your body is cold, half of it is pressed against him, and you shiver in his arms. The floor beneath you moves faster.
That’s how you end up beside him in the bathtub as his hands run across your body. He doesn’t say anything to you, but the tender kisses pressed along your jawline speak for themselves.
Tonight, you will sleep in his bed. Tomorrow, you will wake up entangled in his limbs. You are to be cherished. You are to be taken care of. Nothing will change in the eyes of the public, at least not for now. But he will now have every last part of you.
You wished you had proclaimed your innocence sooner. You wish you had fought him. You could have argued that you are no less guilty than any other citizen of Fontaine, and should be treated as such. At least, if nothing else, you should’ve made a demand for fairness.
But that is how the guilty speak.
——💙——
fin. with love from yumecel. happy birthday neuvillette!! i love you!
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genuine question do you even understand what a proshipper is ? like youre okay with people romanticizing pedophilia and shipping minors and adults ? you think thats okay?? GENUINE question.
Hello! Judging from the way you worded this - I'm gonna be honest: I don't think you know what proshipping is. I was very close to not answering this because it was sounding a bit in bad faith ( and this isn't the first time I've gotten belligerent asks on the same topic) But well, I decided to give it a shot and give benefit of the doubt.
I know it's common ground to jump onto proshipping with the idea that it means you romanticize pedophilia, abuse, toxicity, etc. It's the typical high ground taken when people hear that dark fiction enjoyers exist. But that's not actually what it means. It just means that YOU, as an individual, understand that a drawing is not the same thing as human being. Written characters are not the same as human beings. Harassing REAL people over a non existent character because they put them into situations that make you uncomfortable says more about the harasser than the writer/artist. Proshipping is about taking personal responsibility for your experience online. Not long ago, the idea of a proshipper was just considered having fandom etiquette (ie: Don't like; Don't read type of tag lines. ) I'm a proshipper and there are plenty of things I don't like & make me uncomfortable. But I also understand that I can easily not engage. I can filter tags so I don't see it. I can block people that make that kind of content. I can refuse to click on something clearly labeled as the content I don't like. I can control what I see. And I can also understand that that if someone draws something I don't like it doesn't mean anything about them in real life nor what they enjoy in real life. Besides, a lot of people that consider themselves proshippers are victims of abuse or have had to endure traumatic events in their lives. Engaging in what you might consider dark fiction allows people to cope and navigate through complex emotion/trauma and express themselves in ways they are not allowed to or haven't allowed themselves to. I've seen some people say "I've been through trauma and I don't engage in proshipping." And okay, I'm happy for you. But not everyone copes the same way you do. And no one should be held to the same standard. If we were all carbon copies of each other, maybe I would understand that argument. But that's not the case. I should also mention, that it's become a bit standard for people to only excuse those that have been through trauma to make dark fiction. But only if they publicly acknowledge what kind of trauma they have endured. I am 100% against this way of thinking. I do not think it is anyone's right to demand an account of my or anyone's personal traumas just to validate the existence of certain piece of art. No one is entitled to anyone's abuse story. If a person is willing to share, because they want to, that's the personal decision of the individual. But look, much of the horror genre (movies, books, tv, etc) wouldn't exist if we put these high censorship rules onto art as a whole and unfortunately, I see this happening more and more these days like discussed in this post about someone's experience in publishing gothic horror.
Going back to an earlier point, you have to really understand that the characters are fake. 100% fake. If I ship Sora ( KH) and Ash (Pokemon) neither of them are going to be upset about it because they don't exist. If I draw them kissing, it is a drawing of anime looking characters kissing. That's all. They don't look anything like real human people. Wasting energy fighting over fictional characters is just that. Wasting time and energy. Who are you saving? Ash? Sora? They don't need help, because they aren't real. Fight for real people that actually exist. I have seen people outside of the Soriku fandom genuinely upset about people shipping Riku x Sora because they are underage! Mostly because they are both male but without fail, they always slap on the argument: "they are kids, you sicko!" But you know why they go to that? Because assuming the moral high ground wins over arguments quickly. People are eager to be superficially perceived as morally good. I have seen people ship Riku x Ansem SOD, which could fall into that age gap - problematic shipping you referred to in your ask. But you know what? I get it. I see people interpret their relationship as one of abuse, metaphorical SA, manipulation, etc. I completely understand and see that interpretation and where it stems from. And unfortunately, there are many people in fandom that have had this exact experience. Honestly, without me needing to ask anyone specifically, I KNOW there are people in fandom projecting their experiences onto Riku and Ansem as a means to replay it with a bit of actual control. And even if there are people who don't. I'm not going to ask, because it's none of my business. So again, as a proshipper I am completely in control of my online experience. I can block, mute, filter, and not engage with the things I don't like or things that trigger me. But as long as it is fiction, it remains as just that : Something I don't like between characters that dont exist. I don't have to harass, bully, nor threaten people over fiction. Of course, there are bad apples in every circle. But to me, whether someone is a bad person or not is expressed through action toward real people and the intentional harm done onto them, whether it be through inappropriate interactions, abuse of any kind, exposing personal information, harassing family/at work, or encouraging harm. Those are real actions on real people and engaging in these actions is what counts to me as markers of a bad person. Not someone drawing two fictional characters that haven't aged in the last 20 years kissing or having sex.
#long post#discussion on proshipping#This may come as a shock to many people here but I am more known from my Jaytim art which is considered more scandalous than anything#i create for this kh blog. But for some reason I have gotten much more pushback for soriku art than i ever did for jaytim#but I suppose its for how disney associated kh is. honestly I think this is my most wholesome blog#but I prefer to be upfront on being a proshipper because im just givign you the info. if you dont want to engage thats up to you.#but no one can say I didn't say what im about from the get-go.
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PSA on Tumblr Tags: Tag Lists & # Tags
Just wanted to spread this news for people who don't know the new Tumblr updates that have to do with tagging on posts, both for user tag lists and for descriptive hashtags to help people find your post. I've had to learn them the hard way. 😅
User Tagging:
This first part is for people who have tag lists. Tumblr has recently changed the rules on tagging other blogs/users on a post.
You can still tag up to 50 blogs per post, but they must be spread out into groups of 5. Otherwise, the blog won't be highlighted/tagged and the person will not be notified.
Example (and more) below the cut: ⤵️
✅ Example:
And this is what it will probably look like if you don't spread them out into groups of 5:
Notice that only the first 5 blogs in each section are actually tagged.
Also something important to note: copy/pasting a tag list alone often isn't enough. After I copy over a tag list from another post, I always have to click on each blog name individually to select the blog and make sure it's tagged properly, so people get notified.
Trust me, I get why some writers have decided to ditch tag lists altogether. They can be tricky. 😂
Hashtags on Posts:
As most of you guys know, hashtags help people find your post. The limit of how many tags you can use has bumped up to 30 tags.
Now, this doesn't mean you have to use all 30 slots. But using the most popular tags will increase the likelihood that people will find your post.
By no means am I an expert on this, but I've been reading a lot of stories that should have SO many more reblogs, comments, etc. If some of them were using a few more key tags, they'd likely be getting much more traffic and notes on them.
Want to find out which hashtags are the most popular, relevant to your post?
Well, you can actually search them in the Your Tags tab, Tags You Follow, and go to Manage:
For Dean Winchester fanfiction, for example, here are the tags I use most often:
Ignore the first and last tags, which are just for me to organize the post for my blog. But I would say the most important tags here are the first few:
[character's full name]
[character's full name] x reader or [character's full name] x oc
fandom name
These three are absolutely key for any romance pairing fanfiction post, in my opinion.
Aside from being the most relevant for a pairing fanfic, these are often the most popular tags overall, as they are the tags with a high follower count. The rest can also be important supplemental hashtags relevant to the post.
You can also just start typing into this bar in your post draft and see what "popular tag" recommendations Tumblr gives you:
And that's it! For anyone who finds this PSA helpful, I salute you! 🫡 And I wish you all luck on future tagging endeavors. 💜
I'm also including some of my fellow writers just in case they have something to add to this — or if they don't know this info, though I'm sure they probably do already:
@luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @rizlowwritessortof @artyandink @waynes-multiverse
@jacklesbrainworms @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @waywardxwords
@angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @kayleighwinchester
#PSA#tumblr tagging#hashtags#tagging posts#tag lists#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#dean winchester x you#spn#supernatural fanfiction#soldier boy#the boys#soldier boy x reader#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#soldier boy x you#big sky fanfiction#soldier boy fanfiction#sam winchester#the boys fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles characters#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester imagine#sam winchester imagine
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Would you have any bottom Alastor fanfics to suggest? Ever since I came across your blog I’ve been hyper fixated on that idea but I can’t seem to find any
Surely!
I only just realized I have a total of 15 Hazbin fics bookmarked on AO3 😅 but I have a lot in my "Marked for Later" tab, and I'm sure I'll come across more bottom!Alastor fics there when I get around to going through it.
Of course, look over the tags before reading these fics, some of them are more explicit than others.
Here are the ones I've read and enjoyed:
Unhealthy Attachments by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)
Lucifer never thought to ask before what Alastor got out of having sex with him. Probably won't regret asking, right?
Right?
(Post Season Finale)
<><>
A Failure of Business Negotiation by Drowsy_Salamander (RadioStatic)
It began, as many things did for Alastor, out of curiosity. A tryst with Vox to decide whether sex was worth the hype, a neat and simple dynamic on Alastor's end. However, Vox clearly developed other ideas about what was going on and thus proceeded to utterly ruin everything between them by proposing a formal alliance.
... Alternatively: how Vox and Alastor became exes without ever dating
(NOTE: The smut is more alluded to than explicitly written, but I really enjoyed a deep dive into Alastor's brain and his thoughts surrounding sex. It was very enjoyable to read).
<><><>
601 by ChildishSadism (RadioStatic)
Humans aren't aware that the dark desires in their hearts give demons a clear path to earth. A soul in hell can be tasty but a pure soul from the human world was a delicacy that many demons fought for. Vox enjoyed indulging in this pleasure once in a while, it made his teeth feel sharper and his claws deathlier.
It was such a shame that maybe, he should have kept an eye around in case someone else was ready to steal his meal.
or Vox possesses a priest to try to harvest more souls and Alastor possesses a nun to steal his catch.
(REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS)
<><><>
Lucifer and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)
(NOTE: This one is actually a series. I haven't finished it yet, but it has a lot of yummy bottom!Alastor content)
<><><>
Time to Dance by voland_xx (RadioStatic)
Building a time machine is never a good idea, especially when you’re in Hell.
Sir Pentious’s newest “invention” shocks the residents of Hazbin Hotel (+1) back into their human forms. Alastor and Vox navigate this new adjustment.
or, a demon gets voraciously, hungrily obsessed with a pretty man. What’s new.
<><><>
A Poison for Lust by MatcHoMetriC (Alestial - Alastor x Zestial)
Zestial & Alastor do some 'experimentation' on how the Vee's love potion actually works
<><><>
These are all the ones I have right now, but I'm sure I have a more squirreled away in my Marked for Later tab. If you're looking for more bottom!Alastor I definitely recommend looking through the bottom!Alastor tag! <- I actually just barely glanced through it and found one that looks very interesting, this is this one, if anyone is interested:
Devil's Threeway by Mixkarules18
All Alastor was trying to do was fetch Lucifer for Charlie. It was simple, nothing should have come from it.
However, the Overlord sees something that no one else was meant to and Lucifer decides to have a little fun with him.
Or alternatively:
Two Lucifer’s, one hole
(Tell me that doesn't sound like a fantastic read! I'll be sitting down to give it a looksie right after I post this LOL)
If anyone else has a bottom!Alastor fics they'd like to recommend, send them my way! I have a mighty need
#hope you enjoy these#im sure I have a LOT more bottom!Alastor fics saved#I've just got to get to reading my saved fics#i haven't sat down to properly read anything since my phone broke T.T#I can read on my laptop or my ipad but its just not the same#but I shall get to reading them#maybe that's what I'll do today#I don't have anything planned#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#appleradio#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#radioapple#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox x alastor#voxal#vox the tv demon#radiostatic#staticradio#fic recs
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What’s in it for me?
Chapter 8
Chapter 1 Masterlist
Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader Author: see-the-fandom-imagines Warnings: Kyouya in a bad mood, other than that mostly cute fluff, filler Author’s Note: I hope you will like it! One tiny question: I have been thinking about uploading this same fic with a few changes that would be required, but using male pronouns. I feel like our male readers get too little attention every once in a while, so let me know in case anyone would actually be interested in reading this with male pronouns! Tag List: @radical-bunny, @redsakura101, @ellouisa17
Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46325452/chapters/116633701
The next morning you awoke early. You needed a moment to realise where you were, but Haruhi’s steady breathing soon reminded you of everything that happened the day before. You groaned and stretched, before carefully sitting up. Bright sun light shone through the curtains, so you decided you might as well should get up and make some breakfast. You owed everyone as much for scaring them like you did. Quietly you walked into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror you noticed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying, but that was nothing that a little cold water couldn’t save. You brushed your teeth and quickly washed your face, before slipping into your everyday clothes and sneaking downstairs. No one was there yet, and you enjoyed the short moment of calmness, a rare occasion when being anywhere with the host club. You had to admit you probably were relaxed for the first time in weeks, although you knew you also had to thank the six boys for that who were still sleeping upstairs. Silently you checked the fridge and the pantry for food and you actually found almost all of the basics – eggs, rice, flour, sugar … You could work with that. You had just finished heating the pan, when you heard steps coming down the stairs into the kitchen. You turned around to see who it was, after you had poured the first load of dough into the pan. “Mori-Senpai”, you greeted. “Good morning!” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “Good morning.” He stepped closer to see what you were doing. “I am making breakfast, I thought it was the least thing I could do after … after yesterday.” You carefully flipped the pancake, before turning towards him, as you noticed something. “I never really thanked you properly, but… well, thank you. Really.” You looked him in the eyes. “For saving my life. And everything in general, too.” You bowed down as deeply as you could without falling to your knees. He was quiet for a while, but then you felt the weight of his hand on your head as he ruffled your hair. Surprised you looked up into his smiling face. You knew this was his way of saying that it was alright. You smiled up at him. “If you want to you can sit down, I’ll bring the breakfast out in a bit.” “Let me help you.” “But…”, you started but he shook his head. “Please.” You chuckled and gave in. If he said he wanted to help, that’s what he wanted to do. You always enjoyed Mori’s simplicity in this regard. “Alright! You can make some pancakes if you want to? They’re mostly for Honey-senpai and the twins whenever they wake up!” Mori nodded and took the spatula from you. The rest of the morning was spend in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by you giving Mori some cooking tips and asking which vegetables and leftovers he wanted in the soup.
Proudly, Mori showed you the big stack of pancakes he had just made, and you gave him a thumbs up. “Amazing! Now we just have to wait for …” “I smell pancakes!” You almost flinched as you heard the older hosts voice behind you. When did he get up? Had he been awake this whole time? Slowly you turned around, looking into his happy face. “We made some for breakfast, I had a feeling you’d like them”, you said, trying not to be freaked out by his weird sense of smell for sweets. “Yay!”, he proclaimed, “Let’s set the table, so we can eat!” You nodded and handed Honey a stack of plates, when suddenly Mori stepped in front of you, grabbing your chin with one hand and lifting your head to look at him. You felt the heat creep onto your cheeks at his touch. “M-Mori-senpai”, you stammered, but then he lifted his other hand and gently wiped something of your face with his thumb. His fingers felt warm on your face and his touch was soft. A lot softer than how Kyouya had touched you yesterday. With wide eyes you stared up at him. “Flour”, he explained and immediately you understood and relaxed your shoulders again. “Oh”, you said, but before you could react any further, two very well-known voices appeared next to you. “Hey hey, are we interrupting something?” Immediately, Mori let go of your face as if he had been burnt by it. Hikaru appeared next to his brother. “Is there a secret kitchen party and we haven’t been invited?” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, huge kitchen party, too bad, you’re late.” “Hey”, Kaoru started poking your cheek. “That’s mean”, Hikaru said, poking the other one. “You know me”, you shrugged, “mean to the core.” “Have you made breakfast?”, they realized at the same time. “Yes.” “But why? “Yeah, there’s maids for that.” “Well, there are no maids here as you can see.” “Well, then there’s delivery”, Hikaru shrugged, and you waited for Kaoru’s response but instead he smiled down at you. “Thanks.” Hikaru sent him an irritated gaze, but you beamed up at him. “You’re welcome, now go, go, set the table if you want to eat!” “Do we have to?”, they groaned in unison, but a raised eyebrow from you was enough to get them to move. You shook your head, watching your friends set the table and a weird sense of security and happiness washed over you. It weirdly felt like home. Just… safe. Although a few people were still missing. Smiling at the view, you saw Tamaki and Haruhi walk down the stairs, bickering again, but stopping as they saw the almost fully set breakfast table. “(Y/n) have you done all this?”, Tamaki asked, but you shook your head. “I had some help." You smiled at Mori. “You could have woken me up, I would have helped”, Haruhi protested, but you shushed her quickly. “That’s exactly, why I didn’t wake you! You deserved some rest.” You looked around. “Well, Kyouya-senpai is still missing.” You checked your watch. “I better go wake him up.” Suddenly you felt the gaze of all the hosts on you. “Better don’t do that”, Hikaru said. “Not if you want to live”, Kaoru finished. “What do you mean?” “Kyouya has the blood type AB”, Tamaki explained, but you still were a little confused. “So?” “Kyouya really doesn’t like to be woken up”, Honey said, while already stuffing his face with his first pancake. “You are not the one to talk”, Mori solely commented on his cousin’s utterance, but since you also could not really place this, you just sighed. “Ah, come on, guys, it can’t be that bad … right?” “Try it at your own risk”, the twins said, shrugging, while already sitting down at the breakfast table and you gulped. “Well, I think he is going to be angrier, if we let him sleep and we miss our car back, so I guess I’ll… try my best.” But you had barely finished the sentence, when you were already beginning to doubt your idea.
Carefully, you made your way up the stairs and turned to the left where you knew Kyouya's room was located. You knocked carefully, but didn’t get a reply. You knocked again. Still nothing. You gulped heavily and decided to go in. Once you had stepped inside your eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness and suddenly you weren’t so sure anymore of what you were doing here. You had entered Kyouya’s room without his permission, to wake him up, also without his permission. Even morning people would have every right to be pissed at you and he apparently was the complete opposite of a morning person. Biting your lip you questioned why you were here again and thought about simply turning around, it was not too late to just leave again, but then you remembered the feeling of seeing everybody help out in the kitchen. And how happy that had made you. And how much you had noticed Kyouya’s absence in this moment. A part of you really wanted him to be part of this memory. Maybe it was foolish, but now that you were already inside his room you decided there was no going back. You took a deep breath, and carefully stepped closer to his bed. You looked at his sleeping face and couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked. You smiled a little to yourself. His hair was messy from sleep and he seemed unusually relaxed. He was always so composed, seeing him in this state was highly unusual, but you had to admit that you liked it. The messy hair was weirdly attractive. You swalled down the lump in your throat and knelt down beside him. “Kyouya-senpai”, you whispered, but he still didn’t move. “Kyouya-senpai”, you tried again, this time a bit louder. You sighed. This was not working. You stood back up again, and carefully moved his shoulder. “Kyouya-sen…” But this was as far as you got, for in the next second you felt Kyouya’s grip on your wrist that had just tried to shake him awake. The sudden pull of his touch made you fall over. Your upper body collided with his and your faces were just inches apart from each other as you now stared into his eyes. The usual brown-greyish colour had turned black and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he looked at you. “First you won’t let me sleep and now you wake me early in the morning?” His voice was ice cold. Wait, not let him sleep, what have you …Oh no, you must have woken him up last night with your crying. Immediately your face went bright red, thinking that he had heard your absolute breakdown. Your mouth went dry and your thoughts went blank. How much had he heard? Had he heard you cry? Had he heard anything at all? You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. You felt his chest moving with his chest against yours, his fingers burning into your wrist and you were way too aware of the warmth radiating from him. You tried to think of something to say, anything. You wanted to apologize for waking him both yesterday and today, but you realized you were close enough to smell the faint scent of cedar and lavender that always seemed to surround him and it clouded your thoughts. All you could perceive was the warmth of his skin against yours and how close his face was. This was getting really weird, you had to say something, anything to make this better. Just apologise, (y/n), apolo … “I made breakfast.” You slapped yourself internally, but nothing else would come over your lips. You swallowed hard and looked down at him. His eyes seemed to regain a bit of colour, although, he had still gripped your wrist tightly and seemed slightly murderous. “You… made breakfast?”, he asked back. “Yeah.” “…” “…” “You wake me up ... to tell me you made breakfast.” “Yeah.” He seemed to think for a second, before you could feel his chest begin to vibrate with a low chuckle. “You made breakfast”, he repeated again and finally let go of your wrist. Right away you scrambled back up to your feet, although you were immediately missing the warmth. Kyouya sat up and looked at you. It was impossible for you to guess what he was thinking. He still radiated a slight murderous spirit, but at least he didn’t seem like he wanted to decapitate you on the spot anymore. “I’ll be right down.”
Trying to steady your breath you made your way back down the stairs, your legs a little wobbly from the second close call with death in the last two days and only now noticed that all the other hosts, including Haruhi had gathered at the foot of the staircase, looking up at you expectantly. Before you could react, you found yourself in Tamaki’s embrace. “Oh, (y/n), you can’t imagine how glad we are that you are alive and well!” You blinked a few times. It had been scary, but now he was overdoing it. “I am fine”, you tried to get out between him squeezing you, and it took the help of both twins to peel him away from you. “You don’t look fine”, they observed and you realized, that you probably still were blushing quite heavily. They seemed to mistake it for fear. “No worries, (y/n)-chan! You’re safe now!”, Honey assured you with a serious gaze. “And now sit down and have breakfast with us! A few pancakes will help you get better!”
It didn’t take long for Kyouya to come downstairs, neatly dressed and styled as always. It was as if he was a completely different person. “Good morning”, he wished everyone at the table and they responded. “Good morning, (y/n)”, he said to you in particular, his voice cold, and you knew he was still mad at you for waking him up. “Good morning”, you mumbled back. You had just gotten up to get Honey a few more pancakes, and immediately made your way back into the kitchen to grab another bowl of rice, a miso soup and some of the fish from yesterday you had been frying up again. You placed them one by one in front of Kyouya who looked at you with an unreadable gaze. “I said I made breakfast”, you mumbled, and shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “And I remember you once said you don’t really like sweet stuff, so I made something savory, too.” Kyouya didn’t reply and you didn’t dare to look into his face so you made your way back to your seat to finish your own breakfast. You tried to ignore him, but somehow you caught your gaze wandering back towards him, eyeing the food in front of him suspiciously. You knew it tasted fine, you had had some yourself and Mori had also told you it’s delicious, so you weren’t sure why you were so worried about what Kyouya might think about it. You chewed on a bite of rice, and acted as if you were listening to something Haruhi was telling you, but actually you were watching the dark-haired host from the corner of your eyes, curious about how he'd react. You watched him separate a piece of fish and put it in his mouth. He halted for a second and looked at you, almost surprised. Your gaze met his for a second, but he immediately averted his gaze and focused it on the food again. You had to turn back to Haruhi, so that she wouldn’t realize that you hadn’t been listening to a word she said, but you could have sworn that you had seen a small smirk on Kyouya’s face, as he took a second bite and somehow this made you irrationally happy.
Kyouya for his share did not remember when he had last eaten a homecooked meal like that. Trying to show as little emotion as possible, he nonetheless gladly realized that she seemed to be feeling better. A small smile played on her lips now and he watched her talk and laugh with the other hosts. That sight might have even been worth getting woken up for. Might.
#ouran koukou host club#kyouya ootori x reader#kyoya ootori x reader#kyouya x reader#kyoya x reader#kyoya ootori#kyouya ootori#ootori kyouya#ootori kyoya#ohshc fanfic#mori x reader#takashi morinozuka x reader#takashi morinozuka#kaoru hitachiin#hikaru hitachiin#Mitsukuni Haninozuka#ohshc x reader#ohshc#ohshc kyoya#see-the-fandom-imagines
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#22.6 Praise
Novick nervously chewed on his nail. He was waiting in front of the medbay, sitting on the couch. He was too restless to have lunch with the others.
He had gotten too carried away fighting the small Khun –Ran, his mind supplied– as he finally had someone on par with him.
Boss had looked really upset while he was healing Ran.
Even though Boss had never been actually mad at them, Novick had seen what Boss was capable of when he was upset. And knowing that Boss was fond of Viole's old teammates, he figured he might be in trouble. So it was better to get this problem resolved before it escalated further.
The door opened and he felt cold sweat forming on his skin when Boss stepped out.
"Oh, Novick." Boss's tone was unexpectedly calm. It was kind of scary, given the situation. "Why are you here?"
Novick blanked. How should he answer that? He wasn't particularly worried about Ran's wellbeing, given that he knew Boss was capable, but would it be rude if he didn't ask? Maybe he should apologize first? Though the mere thought already made his throat dry.
Seconds ticked by. He appreciated how patient Boss was, but there was still a limit to the awkwardness that both of them could stand. So Boss spoke to fill the silence. "Ran is fine, if you're wondering about that."
That was a relief, but it didn't ease his restlessness. He decided to swallow his pride, and said, "I apologize." He didn't intend for it to come out as a mumble, so he cleared his throat. "I will do better to control myself next time."
Boss shifted his feet to face his direction, and Novick could feel the weight of his stare. "Why?"
"Huh." His train of thought came to a halt from the unexpected reaction, and he dared to look up to meet Boss's eyes.
"I told you to not hold back and give it your best, didn't I?" Boss shrugged. "And you did. I don't see why you're apologizing."
Sure, Boss's expression was hard to read sometimes, but at least Novick could tell that he was not upset at him. So that was a relief.
"It wasn't your fault that Ran fainted. He consumed a lightning pill to boost his power, and that was the expected side effect."
Novick blinked. He did notice that after Ran ate something mid-fight, it had felt like a losing battle with how little chance he had for a counter-attack. But Ran's destructiveness was still incomparable to Grace's, and it was surprisingly easy to endure him.
"Ran was born a genius. A direct descendant and the brother of Mascheny Jahad herself. But you've worked hard to improve, and I'm truly impressed that you were able to stand him."
Novick felt conflicted. On one hand, he was swelling with pride. It was the highest praise that Boss had ever given him. The reason he liked to fight was because he liked to win, not because he wanted anyone's validation. However, it did feel really nice when someone acknowledged his capabilities.
Though that had also meant that Boss didn't have as much faith in him as he did with Ran…which was fair since he was biased from sharing lineages. But still, it had bruised his ego, especially because he couldn't say he won against Ran. He didn't get to steal his tag before time was up, after all.
"Don't sweat it. You will get other chances to spar with him." Boss stepped away and activated the elevator. "I'm going to the cafeteria. Coming?"
The cafeteria was only one floor above, and the stairs were right beside them. It was easy to figure that Boss was physically exhausted. Maybe he should follow him, just in case? It wasn't like he had anything else to do in front of the med bay anyway.
Looking back, the week leading to this day was used fully to exercise –with Boss as their main support, and Grace and Viole as their opponents. He could proudly say that his team worked better than before, but he also noticed that overworking had put some strain on Boss's health. Though that it was nothing new, unfortunately. Boss had always been too hard on himself, ever since Novick knew him.
The elevator let out a chime as the door opened. Only then did Novick noticed that the anxiousness from before had been long forgotten, and the thought of food made his stomach rumble. So, mindlessly, he got up and followed Boss to the cafeteria.
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#I need them to have a good platonic relationship with each other 🥹 i want someone other than grace to look after agni#i want his team to be wholesome#that's the compensation i'm willing to give after all the trauma i put him through hahaha#tower of god#tog#two sides of the same coin fic#my fic#koon#khun a.a#khun aguero agnis#khun ran#novick
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(TW for racism/xenophobia, as well as what's going on with Cellbit right now. For anyone who wants to know about that, I put the documents he put out in the replies for the post, as well as TWs for what it contains)
You know, I gotta say I'm really glad I'm hardly on twitter and BARELY know how to navigate it. Because I never actually SEE any of the drama going on over there, I just hear it from tumblr people coming here from over there, and that's definitely the case here as well as well
And I know I haven't really talked much about QSMP Drama before, but what's going on right now is hitting me a little harder than I would've thought, so I do wanna give my two cents on it
For starters, I read through the entire document that Cellbit put out and I feel absolutely horrible for what he's going through right now, and for what he went through in the past. Especially since I've been through something similar to one of the things he mentioned. Not to mention the fact that I'm also most likely asexual as well. (This is kinda why I wanted to talk about it at all, if I'm being honest) I really hope things get better for him, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart
And as for the apparently rampant xenophobia that's been targeted towards the Brazilian community, I honestly feel absolutely terrible that this has been happening. And I really hope that people can come here and find a better part of the community to interact with, if they choose to stay at all. Which I can certainly understand anyone choosing to leave, however unfortunate that is. Either way, I'm really sorry this has been happening to you guys, and it never should have happened in the first place (And anyone else who's experienced this, you have my sympathy as well, even if I know it isn't really gonna help much)
For anyone that stays, I'm really sorry things have been so shitty. Obviously there's not gonna be any place that's completely safe and tolerant, but I certainly hope things over here are better than on twitter
QSMP has been an amazing experience for me, and the fact that I've learned so much about so many different cultures has been absolutely incredible. I'm not the kind of person who can just learn this kind of stuff by reading up on it, so this has really been a great way to learn about things that I either never thought to look into, or just wasn't able to understand for whatever reason
Anyone that sees this sort of project, which has been connecting so many different communities and cultures, and decides to still be so intolerant and hateful, are just a special kind of awful. And frankly, they're the ones losing out on something incredible
(Btw I'm not sure what all to tag this as, since again, I don't really talk about drama stuff all that often, so if anyone wants me to tag a specific trigger or anything else, please let me know)
#qsmp#qsmp drama#I'm not sure what specifically to tag this with honestly#cellbit#qsmp cellbit#xenophobia tw#racism tw#drama
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Lore Olympus ch. 257-262 critique pt. 2
Aaaand we're back
Ch. 260
Hermes, Hebe, and trauma dumping
Jumping right into it, Hermes pissed me right the fuck off. I don't know why Demeter didn't want to accept the aid from the underworld, but I'm sure pride must be some of it. But for Hermes to call it an "in-law tiffy-tiff" was beyond wrong. I don't know or remember what, if any, beef he has with Demeter but read the fucking room, man.
I'm so glad Demeter took Hebe in though, like the absolute Queen that she is. One thing that disturbed me a little when Hebe and Demeter got to talking is how Rachel tries to pass off Hera's trauma dumping on Hebe as if it's nothing.
First of all, 18-year-olds are still kids. I know (at least for the vast majority here in the US) that 18 is the legal age of adulthood, but the human brain doesn't finish developing until around age 25. Even if that's how the rules in LO work (I have a sneaking suspicion they're not though, seeing as Persephone is technically stuck at age 19 for the rest of time) Hebe is 7 years off from having a fully developed brain.
Additionally, I don't like how Rachel frames the idea that Hebe found out all of this information from her mother as a now 18-year-old. I don't know if Rachel is forgetting her own damn timeline (not that there was a cohesive one in the first place) but Hebe wouldn't have been 18 at the time of finding out this information.
Remember the 10-year time skip? Yeah, that whole thing? And how 5 of the 6 Traitors were in a coma? For 10 years? In case you haven't picked up what I'm trying to put down, Hebe was 8 years old when her mother went into that coma. Which means that Hera dumped all this information on a literal fucking child who was 8 or potentially even younger since we have no frame of reference for when Hebe was told this information.
Demeter is right. It is wrong to burden your kids with that. I don't know Rachel, but from this writing, I would venture a guess that she's never had a parent trauma dump on her.
I have. Rachel has no idea how mentally taxing it is to have a parent trauma dump on you or have them drag you into the middle of their fights or vent about their spouse/your other parent to you behind their back. That is not something a parent should EVER do to a child and I'll be damned if I ever do that to mine.
And while there is a shred of truth to what Hebe is saying, about how that information helps her understand her mom, Hebe does not (and in fact should not) be part of her mother's journey to work on herself, especially at that young of an age. Your child is not your therapist.
Demophon, the not child of Demeter
I will say, I am glad that Demeter finally decided to open up to her somewhat adult daughter. Oh, what's this? Persephone looks upset and-
😀😐
of-fucking-course
Is this it?? Is this the moment when we finally find out what happened to Demeter in Attica all those years ago-
Anyway, what we find out is that while in Attica, Demeter supposedly fell in love with the King of Eleusis and had Demophon, a my little pony-looking abomination not worse than whatever the fuck the above pictures are supposed to be. But if you note my title for this portion of the chapter, you'll see it says "the not child of Demeter". And that, dear readers, is because Demophon is in fact not a child of Demeter in the original myths. And Rachel also spelled his name wrong. (You can read more about him here: Demophon of Eleusis)
It seems to me that Rachel is doing what most couples with a failing relationship do: throw a baby at it and hope it will fix the problems.
What technicality? Do you mean the "technicality" that Demeter was punished for insubordination (regardless of her intentions) and lived as a mortal for 10 years? And during that time as a mortal had a son who was born as and died as a mortal? Forgive me if I'm being slow here, but I don't see what this "technicality" is supposed to be. How is Demophon's death any different from the mortals that Persephone killed and asked if it was possible to bring back?
I'm gonna sound a little nitpicky here, but Hades is the god of the dead (and wealth) not the god of death. Believe it or not, there is a difference, and the brushing aside of that difference is the reason why people still get Hades and Thanatos mixed up to this day. Plus does no one remember what happened to Asclepius when he figured out how to raise the dead? tl;dr: not good things.
I have a feeling that all this is happening because Persephone and Hades are trying to buy off Demeter. They want brownie points with the woman who is rightfully upset about everything that is happening right now. And I'll be willing to bet that this smooths things right over with her.
Ch. 261
Off-topic, Demeter looked really pretty in this chapter #standemeter
The "technicality" and Hades' BS
I am glad Demeter gets this small bit of happiness but also:
Nice try, but that's not how that works. Get your smug, ugly-ass mug out of here. Once again, why is Demophon the exception? Because you're whipped for Persephone? Because you want a gold star from your MIL who has perfectly valid reasons to not like you?
Ah. I guess his name is Triptolemus now. Triptolemus who is the older brother of Demophon. Who is also not a son of Demeter. Sure.
NO DON'T FALL FOR IT DEMETER. IT'S A TRAP-
The sisters
It is nice for the most part to see Hera, Demeter, and Hestia interacting. I don't think that's something we've seen outside of flashbacks.
I don't, however, like this interaction between Demeter and Hera:
Yeah, no, that's not how that works. Demeter has every right to be mad at you for helping Hades and Persephone get around the fact that they "violated the laws of Xenia (hospitality)". It doesn't matter if Persephone was a "wild card". Hera had no right to marry them.
In fact, I had a conversation with anoldplace and something we discussed is how much Hera's responsibility/involvement in Persades is kinda just... brushed off. Especially if you look back at the way early chapters (I'm talking s1 early) when Hera changes her tune from "wtf, that's so gross, what is wrong with you" to "Let me get this whole ball rolling". Persephone wouldn't have even had half the interactions she did with Hades had Hera not put her in that internship for the underworld. And Demeter doesn't even know about the early stuff. Think about how livid she would be if she found out Hera was pulling the strings from the beginning. Yikes.
Different topic but the fact that both Demeter and Persephone love to swim is cute.
Ch. 262
Jfc, finally. I'm so tired lol.
Hera's prophecy
In honor of Hera's ugly highlighter-looking color, the sections shall, too, be in yellow.
I was pretty excited to see that Hera got a vision. I'm also sad that this isn't something we see utilized more often in the series. In fact, we don't really see any of the goddesses use their powers besides... oh, for Christ's sake. I don't even want to say it, it just adds to her Mary Sue-ness.
Place your bets on how long it takes for Rachel to dress Persephone in something similar, if not identical, to this.
Moving on, we see Kronos smush and kinda throw Hera away and she's left wondering:
That's cute and all, but no. Like I huffed and puffed with the whole "attempted murder" bullshit with Zeus, for one to die, they must be mortal. If gods could die, they wouldn't be gods. They would be human looking at you Demophon. I understand why the sentiment of dying is upsetting, but Hera, Zeus, whomever cannot die. I suppose similar to Egyptian mythology, they could be chopped up and have their parts scattered to the winds but from what I've seen, there's nothing in Greek mythology that details anything like that.
I did see a really funky theory that I agree with that Hera must be some kind of fertility goddess. In fact, I've seen a lot of people speculate that she was the fertility goddess on the wall of that cave that was destroyed. It would be really wonderful if that greyed-out goddess in Hera's vision was her and not Persephone. Kinda like the ultimate "taking back the power" moment. But tbh I'm not hopeful.
Persephone and Hades... yay/s
*gag* anyway-
Hades decided to give the MORTAL Demophon his whole stash of ambrosia but he doesn't really know if it will actually work and he's salty that Zeus is stingy with it.
Okay, first of all, if it's that damn important that you have ambrosia and you're going to be a salty mofo that the only person who has it is stingy with it, make your own damn ambrosia. You're telling me you've been alive for thousands of years yet the thought hadn't occurred to you once? Bffr. Watch this come back and bite them in the ass in the series finale.
Secondly, if you've never done this before, how do you know it's going to work for Demophon? I mean, it probably will because plot armor, but seriously? What would happen if Demophon just kicked the bucket all over again? Like congratulations, you re-traumatized your wife's mother who already doesn't like you.
Final thoughts
This is all just unraveling so quickly. Watch Demophon disappear and never be addressed again. I am really hoping that this series wraps up between March and May like genericpuff predicted because I am tired. I mean, I'll miss the ability to make content while the material is still piping hot, but also reading this comic is taking a toll on my health. I have never seen my blood pressure in such a state. And I'm not even the one writing the comic.
I can't imagine being in Rachel's shoes rn. I know this point has been beaten to death by everyone and their moms (myself included), but it's so clear that Rachel just doesn't give a shit about this comic anymore. And it's sad. But I also get it.
Rachel has talked about after LO she wants to do a comic along the lines of this but involving Egyptian or Norse mythology. I hope she doesn't for very obvious reasons, but if she decides she wants to step up to the plate for what will inevitably be LO pt. 2, I hope she takes the time to actually research the cultures and learn from the very egregious mistakes that she made here. I won't be there if she does.
#anti lore olympus#lo critical#anti lo persephone#lore olympus#unpopular lo#unpopular lore olympus#anti lo#lore olympus critical#lo critique#lo critic#lo hate#lore olympus hate#lore olympus criticism
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Personal Matter: Chapter 2
*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*
Pairing: Matthew Casey x reader
Summary: Boden and the rest of 51 find out the big news
Words: 688
Warnings: sex (mentions), pregnancy (lmk if there’s any I missed)
Read on Ao3 here
Notes: You’ve returned for chapter 2!! This is what I like to refer to as a “bridge chapter” so enjoy! Thank you for reading and join the Taglist to be notified when any new chapters are posted!
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Tags: @mrspeacem1nusone @kiddbegins
——
He led the way to Boden’s office, where your Battalion Chief was filling out paperwork.
“Chief, do you have a minute?” Matt asked.
“Sure, have a seat,” he gestured toward you both.
“I need to tell you something,” you announced, sitting down across from him.
“Ok,” he put his pen down and folded his hand on his desk.
“I found out this morning I am pregnant.”
Boden looked almost as shocked as Matt did when you told him.
“Yours?” Boden asked, pointing to Matt.
Matt nodded with the biggest smile you’d ever seen.
“How long has this been going on?”
“It was one night off shift a few weeks ago. I found out this morning and now I’d like to be transferred to OFI.”
Boden thought for a moment.
“What if you stayed at 51 and worked in the bullpen? We’ve been backed up for months, you’ll report directly to me, I think it would work out. What do you think?”
“I think that would be amazing, thank you chief.”
“Then I’ll keep you here at 51. Does anyone else in the house know?”
“Brett knows, but I’d like to tell everyone at the morning briefing, so please-“
“Yes, yes, of course. Congratulations.”
“Thank you Chief,” Matt interjected.
Boden’s phone rang and by the look on his face, you knew he had to take it.
“We’ll let you go Chief,” you announced, standing up, “thanks again.”
Matt followed behind you as Boden nodded, picking up the phone.
“This is actually gonna work,” you laughed, hugging Matt’s arm.
“Of course it’s gonna work,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Kelly peeking into the bullpen, so you pulled away from Matt to not bring up suspicion.
“Briefing room, 5 minutes,” Matt told Severide.
“Thanks, Case.”
You led Matt into the briefing room, keeping a distance as to make sure it seemed like you weren’t just loving on each other a couple moments earlier.
Boden followed shortly behind to get the meeting started.
“One thing today, folks,” he announced, quieting the chatter, “one of our own has an announcement to make.”
Chief looked at you as you stood up.
“As of today, I’ll be transferring off 81 for a bit and into the bullpen.”
A cloud of ‘what?’ and ‘why?’ erupted, to the point you stood on your chair to get the house to quiet down. You exchanged looks with Matt, and you finally decided to tell the house.
“Honestly? I did a thing a couple weeks back and I probably should stop riding the truck for a little while,” you laughed, “wouldn’t want to be nine months pregnant and running circles around all you at a call.”
“Congratulations” came from every corner of the briefing room.
“Squad 3, dive rescue, Navy Pier,” dispatched announced.
Severide and the rest of squad 3 leapt out of the room to their call.
“Dismissed,” Boden sighed.
You left the briefing room quickly and Stella followed behind you. Once in the bunk room, she caught up with you.
“Girl!” She exclaimed, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just found out this morning,” you laughed.
“Whose is it?”
“Casey’s,” you whispered.
“You slept with Casey?”
“It was one night a couple weeks ago after we both had a few too many at Molly’s.”
“You had sex at Molly’s?”
“No,” you laughed, “he came back to my place.”
“Oh,” Stella laughed, “I mean I wasn’t gonna judge, Kelly and I have had a few good times there.”
“Well that’s something I definitely didn’t need to know.”
"Sorry," she smirked.
——
After at least 7 calls over the rest of your shift, you were packing up your bag again, but this time to go back to your warm bed.
Matt caught up with you as you reached your car.
“We still good for tonight?” He asked.
“Of course, 6 right?”
“Already made the reservation.”
“Thanks Matt.”
“I’ve got a construction job all day today. See you tonight.”
He smiled and walked towards his truck. You loaded your bag in the back seat of your car and drove towards home.
#Matt Casey#Matthew Casey#Chicago fire#Matt Casey fic#Matthew Casey fic#Chicago fire fic#Matt Casey x reader#Matthew Casey x reader#Chicago fire x reader#personal matter fic
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heyy . So I wanted to ask for an expansion on the teammate lestappen au (pls?) a continuation to what happened before?
Like we called Charles and talked to him and maybe persuaded him to leave Ferrari and then he accepts the idea and tells them that he's leaving but his dom and the team are so angry with him and then max hears some shouting from the Ferrari motorhome so he goes to see what's is going on and when he sees that charles is getting yelled at he protects him(?) And calls for us and maybe he also calls for christian since he's the team boss and can take care of charles contract(?)
And then it can be angst or soft vibes .
Tbh I just started rambling halfway so sorry if there's something not quite right or logical . And btw ur writing is amazing
YES YES ABSOLUTELY I CAN!!!!
Okay so for anyone who missed the initial ask, this is an offset of the D/S AU where you’re Max’s dominant and you and max convince Charles to leave Ferrari and his awful dominant and join redbull to be Max’s teammate and under your care as the team dominant. If you want to read the full ask just click on the first tag of this post.
So firstly it would obviously take a very long time for Charles to actually decide to leave Ferrari. Maybe it takes pretty much an entire season? And throughout that season, I think you’d start sneakily doing scenes with Charles? Like Charles will start sneaking into your hotel room and scening with you and max because his team Dom just isn’t giving him what he needs.
Max would have been vocal about Charles leaving Ferrari and coming to red bull for MONTHS before Charles actually makes the decision. For the longest time charles would just giggle and look away whenever max would say he should leave.
Maybe his breaking point is when Ferrari find out he’s being doing this? They tell him that they’ll add a clause into his contract for next season stating that he’s only allowed to scene with their team dominant and no one else. That’s what breaks him because he realises there’s no way he can get through the next season if he can’t scene with you and max.
He tells you and max the next day that he’s made his decision and he tells Christian right after that. Christian is, of course, absolutely delighted with this news and immediately telling Charles he’ll have the contract drafted promising him at least two seasons.
It takes him another two weeks before he finally musters up the courage to tell Ferrari that he won’t be resigning with them for the next season and uh… yeah it doesn’t go well.
He ends up with four men yelling at him in Italian and someone calls his team dominant and so now they’re also there yelling at him. He tries to explain that this is the best move for his career but they won’t listen.
Maybe his team dominant says you won’t even like him anymore? His team dom says that you only liked scening with him because it was a thrill but it won’t be like that when he’s actually assigned to you. And that just breaks Charles‘s little heart? Because he is leaving his team and his heart for you and max and the thought that maybe neither of you even love him just…. That coupled with everyone else yelling is far too much for him.
Luckily for him, he had told max he was telling Ferrari that day and so max had decided to hang around outside the Ferrari hospitality just in case Charles needed him. And when he heard shouting, he instantly ran in to see what was going on.
Max obviously couldn’t understand the Italian but he could understand that Charles was crying and all these people were yelling at him. Maybe max just grabs Charles and gets him out of there? He knows that no one in Ferrari is stupid enough to try and lay a hand on him so he’s pretty well protected and he also knows you’ll put the fear of god into all of them later when you find out what’s happened.
Max takes Charles right to his driver room, not caring who sees because Charles needs comfort. He texts you to get to his driver room immediately and as soon as you get there, you’re greeted by the sight of Charles sniffling against Max’s shoulder and realise pretty quickly that things clearly did not go well when he told Ferrari.
When you find out exactly what happened, you plan to let Christian know and then the two of you would make sure Ferrari knew their place and treated Charles well for the rest of the season. Charles, meanwhile, stays glued to Max’s side and trusts you to handle it all. He lets himself be comforted by his fellow submissive and soon to be teammate, and maybe that’s when he realises he has romantic feelings for max too? Cause he just… he feels so safe in Max’s arms.
Once you and Christian have dealt with Ferrari, you take your boys back to your hotel room for cuddles and reassurance and maybe a soft gentle scene to calm Charles down and make sure he knows he’s very very loved.
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Leave it to the land - Chapter 3.
The world has ended, it's over—except some people can't seem to accept that. Those same people think the cure lies in people like you and your little sister. And they're willing to do anything to find it.
The road to safety is a long one, and you're about to learn that it isn't one you can walk alone.
Read it on ao3.
Tag list: @elentiyaiswriting
You manage to stay awake for most of the night, although you're sure you start to doze at some stage.
You spend most of the time going over what happened on the fire escape and cursing yourself. You'd always been afraid of heights but this time, you'd gone completely to pieces. And in front of Ghost, of all people. You were trying to make these men your allies, while making it clear that you wouldn't take anyone messing with you or Dot.
Hard to take someone seriously when they can't even climb a ladder, you think to yourself bitterly.
All in all, you've had better mornings and you're grumpy as you try to scrounge together some breakfast for yourself and Dot. Soap and Ghost each have those ready meals you've seen soldiers eat. You have one protein bar left and give her the bigger half. It's actually a few months out of date but you can't really afford to stick your nose up so you decide to chance it.
After you've all eaten, you stand around kind of awkwardly, not sure what to say or do.
Eventually Soap glances at Ghost and clears his throat.
“So, we've decided to take ye’ up on yer deal.” Your heart leaps. He holds up a finger.
“On the condition that you give us the general location we're going.” He sees you open your mouth and continues before you can start. “It's the only way we can plot the best route.”
You shut your mouth and scowl.
“How do you know I don't already know the best route?”
Soap scoffs.
“If you did, you wouldn't still be here.”
Your scowl deepens.
“I know how to get out—it's just doing it that's hard. We're a little low on weapons, in case you haven't noticed.”
Of course they've noticed, you think, and once again you've pointed out how vulnerable you are, as if it weren't obvious.
You don’t even know why you’re arguing. You should be delighted at this turn of events. You've got two obviously skilled soldiers willing to accompany you to meet Kyle. And they're friends of his. This is exactly what you'd been hoping for. And yet, now that the offer is on the table, you're having doubts.
There's nothing to say they're telling the truth about being friends with Kyle. They recognised his patch, sure, but they could have picked up that information from somewhere else. You could be leading a trap right to him.
Another thing: you can't stay awake around them every night—you're already feeling the effects of not sleeping the night before. Doing this would mean trusting them enough to let your guard down, at least a little, and you’re not sure you can do that.
But then you look at Dot and remember the last few months of trying to find enough to eat, close encounters with tier fives, and government sentries and bounty hunters who wouldn't hesitate for a second to hand you back to the research centre.
Your little sister has an almost permanent pinched look on her face like she's spent every moment of the last few months afraid. You know you can't go on like this for much longer, either of you.
Which means you don't have a choice.
Soap produces a paper map and you use it to point out the direction you'll need to go.
“So we're leaving now then?” You're feeling antsy and want to move. The dead have wandered off during the night, but you know they won't have gone far.
“Soon,” Soap assures you. “We just need to make a stop first.”
“A stop?” you ask suspiciously. “A stop where?”
“Safehouse. Like the one Kyle told you about.” You must look confused because he goes on.
“We each know about a few of the safehouses, not all of ‘em. We’re not sure where the one Kyle showed you is but the one I’m on aboot isn’t far from here”
“How many-”
“That's enough.” You startle and look at Ghost but he's glaring at Soap, who shrugs.
“Why do we need to go there?” You ask.
“We'll need more ammo and they might be able to get us transport to the edge of the city.”
You have to admit that's tempting. You consider asking who “they” are but one look at Ghost’s tense stature tells you it won’t do any good. So with the increasingly familiar feeling of not having any choice in the matter, you agree.
Your trip through the city is quiet in the early morning. You naturally take up your positions from before, with Soap leading the way, you and Dot walking behind him, and Ghost bringing up the rear.
You find yourself missing Dot’s voice. She usually kept up a quiet but constant chatter while you walked, but she's barely said a word the last few days. You get it—you find Ghost and Soap scary enough, you can't imagine how much worse that is for a little kid. You see her glancing at Ghost’s mask sometimes, then quickly away.
You silently take her hand in yours as you walk. She still doesn't say anything but you feel her squeeze your hand hard.
After some time, Soap holds up clenched fist, and you hear Ghost come to a stop. A second later you feel something touch your elbow and flinch away.
Ghost holds up a placating hand, then points to a building up ahead.
“This is us. When we go in, let us do the talking.”
You nod. Your patience for meeting new people is at breaking point anyway.
You pull Dot closer to you as the four of you move into an alleyway.
Soap knocks on a door, which opens almost immediately. You hear him talking quietly to someone, jerking his head back at you and Dot. You start to feel uncomfortable and you're about to say something when the door opens fully and Soap gestures you inside.
The room is small and dim. The person inside is wearing a mask, much like Ghost’s, but plain. Soap and Ghost stand close to them and talk some more, while you hang awkwardly behind them, Dot tucked behind you.
Eventually Soap turns to you.
“We'll be back in a few minutes. You stay here.”
Now, you are going to argue—splitting up and leaving you with an, almost definitely armed stranger, was not part of the plan, but Soap and Ghost are already gone.
You consider pulling out your knife but resist the urge, instead just keeping a wary eye on the person in the mask, who has stayed behind and is now watching you without speaking.
You take a seat and settle in for what turns out to be a long wait. Your leg shakes nervously and you make an effort to sit still.
A sudden noise from a walkie on the table makes you startle. The person in the mask picks it up and talks into it for a few seconds.
Then they leave, giving you a long look before they go.
You wait for another while, until almost half an hour has passed, getting more and more antsy by the minute.
After you've chewed through most of your fingernails, you make a decision. You kneel down to look at Dot.
“I just want to have a quick look around, okay?” When she starts to shake her head, you put a hand to her hair and shush her.
“Just to see if everything is okay, in case something’s holding them up. 10 minutes top, okay?”
When she nods reluctantly, you press a quick kiss to her forehead.
You keep her behind you, letting her hold the back of your shirt so you can keep your hands free.
The corridor outside is surprisingly bright compared to the dim room you just left. There are a few doors along it but you don’t open them, scared to attract attention. At the end of the hall, there are a few doors with glass panes—you make a beeline for these instead.
Peering into the first, you jerk your head back when you realise there are people inside. You look again, more carefully. A woman wearing gloves is drawing blood from a man’s arm. You duck underneath the door and make your way to the next room.
What you see there is familiar, even if the set up is a little different. There are different sized items of glassware sitting on a bench. Some of them are filled with liquid. Petri dishes are laid out under some microscopes and a computer monitor is set up, though the tiny text is too far away for you to read from outside. It doesn’t matter. You know what this is.
It’s a lab.
Your breath starts coming a little faster. Idiot, you think to yourself. You’d spent so long trying to get out of the facility and now you've walked right back into one. Soap and Ghost have clearly led you right into a trap. They were probably negotiating their price for the pair of you right now.
Well, whatever experiments they're running here, you want nothing to do with it, for you or Dot.
“Come on, Dot,” you whisper, and hurry back along the hall, still half bent so you can't be spotted through the glass topped doors.
You get back to the room and immediately go to the door leading to the alley, only to find it locked. You whirl around and start looking for a key but the room is almost completely empty, apart from the chairs you'd just vacated.
You go back to the door into the hallway, and yank it open, determined to find either a key or something to batter the door down, only to walk straight into something solid.
You bounce back like you've hit a brick wall and look up. You've just walked straight into Ghost. He makes no move to steady you and just stares.
“Going somewhere?” he asks you, folding his arms over his chest.
You swallow, mouth dry and back up, sweeping Dot behind you with one arm. As if it'll do you any good.
You barely notice Soap enter the room. He looks at you, frozen, half crouched in front of Dot, arms spread protectively, then at Ghost, raising his eyebrows.
“Alrigh’?" he asks, glancing between you both. Neither of you answer and he shakes his head.
“Grand, so. You guys ready?”
You blink at him.
“Ready?”
“Uh … yeah? We're all stocked up and we were able to get a car with half a tank—should be enough to get us to the edge of the city. We can find our own way from there.”
“And what did that cost?” There's a hard edge to your voice that makes Soap cock his head at you. He must think you're a fucking idiot. A fair appraisal considering your behaviour so far, but you're done trusting them now, Kyle or no Kyle. If these guys are involved with the research centre, you need to put as much space between you and them as possible. But if they’ve sold you out, why is Soap still keeping up the act?
You remember what Ghost said about the other safehouses. Maybe they've been hired to take you to another lab for testing, with you following them, docile as lambs to slaughter.
“It's paid for, doll, no worries.”
Well, if they think you're dumb enough to go along with whatever they have planned, maybe it's best you go along with it. After all, you still need a way out of the city and you're not getting out of this building without them.
“Right, let's go then.”
Soap nods, and you realise the person from before is back. They let you out onto the street again. They still don’t speak and the sound of the door closing and locking behind you is loud in the quiet.
The car is in an underground garage, which is locked until Soap says something into another intercom and the roller door trundles open.
The engine stutters for a few seconds when Soap turns the keys but eventually roars to life. Ghost gets shotgun so you take the backseat with Dot, who peers out the window, wide-eyed. She won't remember the last time she'd been in a car, you realise. So many things you'd taken for granted in your old life are still novel to her.
The drive is quiet and you spend the time making your own plan.
As long as Soap and Ghost think you trust them, you have leverage. You'll get as far as you can with them, then make a break with Dot. How you'll do that remains to be seen but you'll have to figure that out later. Having some idea of what you’re going to do doesn’t help you relax much but the toil of the day and the lack of sleep from the night before finally catch up to you and you find yourself dozing.
You wake to Dot shaking your arm. The car has stopped and the landscape has changed. You're close to the edge of the city now and in front of you, a forest stretches further than you can see.
“Just about out of petrol,” Soap tells the car at large. “We’ll hide the car for the guys to come collect, but we're on foot from here. Let's try and get going while we've still got a few hours of sunlight left.”
#fanfic#read on ao3#alternate universe#call of duty#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#zombie#zombie apocalypse#kyle gaz garrick#original character#cod#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#leave it to the land
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Our unintelligent squint (e1 part 2/?)
Summary: It's y/n's first day at the Jeffersonian. You are being swiftly introduced to everyone!
Character pairings: Zack Addy x reader, Angela x Hodgins, Booth x Brennan
Word Count: 10.8k
Warnings: none
A/n: Hey... Finally got to p2... I hope you can tell me what you think!!!! Again, non of the words belonging to the case, or anything having nothing to do with y/n belongs to me! Enjoy! (If you haven't read the whole story click here. For my masterlist!)
(Y/n's pov)
I woke up a half hour before my alarm rang again… This is going to be a long day. Ick! I know it's not healthy for me to be so anxious. But what reputation will I have if I lose this job? I certainly don't want to wind up serving French fries and mini burgers again. Not if I can help it. Plus, what would my father think? No, I'll have to try my hardest to stick to this job.
I did my hair up with my two front pieces of hair, and pulled the back with a polka dot tie. I decided I'd wear a modest skirt and shirt. I at least thought I looked lovely and sophisticated. I didn't bother to eat breakfast at home. I could easily go to the cafeteria, and besides, it was only 5:30. My breakfast isn't until an hour later.
I took the bus because I didn't want to bother or wake up anyone this early in the morning. After all I'm still working on my driver's license. The ride was bumpy, but I was ok once I put in my music… The byrds, Celine Dion, green day, lynyrd skynyrd, def leopard… (I like everything ok!)
And finally… After me lip syncing the duet of phantom of the opera, I was at the Jeffersonian. I seriously wanted to cry. There's no way I'm ready! I thought as I jumped out of the bus. I started turning around to try to jump back into the bus, but I noticed it was already half way down the road. No, the only option was to go in. So I did!
I walked in with the self consciousness of my shoes squeaking. Everyone smiled at me. Most likely because they have seen me once or twice before with my dad. So I took it as no sign of approval. I walk into a beautiful woman with what I would imagine to be the warmest face I have seen in forever. And since I had no idea where to go, I thought it right that I should talk to her.
"Hello," I started awkwardly, sounding like I originated from Germany, "I'm new here. And I was wondering if you could give me directions. Like how to get a name tag, like the ones I see you and- well, everyone wearing.. And a tour of how the work, y'know, works…" I smile.
"Oh, hi!!! Quick question first. Are you a-," she reads from a card she took from her jacket, "Ms. Y/n y/l/n?" She smiles back.
"yes… Yeah, I was the one hired… Yesterday, actually."
"Well, Dr. Brennan asked me to give this to you if I ran into you, " she handed me my ID card, I took it and she nodded, "I'm Angela, Montenegro… Angela Montenegro."
"It's very nice to meet you!" I perked up.
"And yes, I can give you a quick look at the work place," she gestured with her hands for me to follow her.
She showed me my main working space first. A platform where the remains or artifacts are originally delivered. A room Angela says she mostly works in, where she designs holograms for the Jeffersonian. She showed me a room where all the skeletons are kept. She kept mentioning the numbers of the rooms, but I remembered none of them. "Now, you can call this one Hodgins sanctuary," She showed me a room full of a variety of insects and chemicals. "
"I swear I've seen this exact setting on Harry Potter," I teased.
"yeah, well, we have to be careful when this wizard waves his wand," she jokingly warned.
This guy with bright curly hair and a tolerable, well maintained beard emerges from the room of doom. "Hey Angie, check out what I discov-" he noticed me standing next to her, "you're new… And fresh out of diapers. Ange, we've got to by her some formula!"
I got defensive "I'm fifteen!" I say.
"It's alright, sweetie. He's just like that," Hodgins raises his eyebrows, approving what she said, "you said you discovered something?"
"I- it can wait!" He said , "you should show the kiddo more things… Or something," he turns and goes back into his "lair".
I turn to her in curiosity, " is this hairstyle fine to wear here?"
"Yes. So long as it's up, and won't get mixed into any of the particulates, or remains we find."
"Uhuh, gotcha. And my clothes?" I bit my lip anxiously.
"you can wear most things; jeans, top, skirt, blouse… For you to get approval, you should wear something modest."
"Good," I say, "because that's all I have."
We walk near the bones room where I see the one face I recognized when i first wanted to work here a year ago. The one who initiated the interview with me. Now he was walking fast over to us. And given how tall he was, he could walk faster than most people I've known.
"Ms. y/l/n. I was wondering if I could speak to you right now?" He said when he reached us.
"Uhrm, yes, Mr. Addy? Um, yeah… I seriously have nothing going on right now so…" I look around awkwardly.
He takes me by the arm, and drags me to the other side of the lab. Angela was so curious as to why he was being so secretive, based on her staring in our direction. I think I was more so curious than she was.
"Look. You have got to follow my lead, words and every move," He definitely could tell that my eyes were screaming the word "what", at him. He tried to elaborate.
" You know nothing about the names of bones, " he said.
"Yes that's true. But I know what they are and where they go when I look at-" I started.
"But the names are important to know in this line of work," Mr. Addy interrupted, "What's going to happen when Dr. Brennan asks you to hand her a tray with a femur on it?"
"A whater?" I raised an eyebrow.
He sighs, "This is going to be a long day," He looks me in the eyes in silence, I just twittle my thumbs as he does so, "Just do what I tell you to. Because if you get fired, I will most likely lose certain privileges, and eventually get fired. So, won't you, since you're already working just under me, do all I ask of you… Pay attention!" I just nod. Not really knowing how else to respond.
Dr. Brennan walks through the door. I recognized her because she always works with my father, occasionally visiting my house. Me and Zack's conversation ends. He hands me a dark blue lab coat with a rough texture, and smoothly gestures with his hands for me to attach my ID to it. We join Dr. Brennan along with everyone else. She always appeared so grumpy to me, like, to the point where she says jump and I ask how high. So, I assumed it was best l should follow with them.
We all walk in a group. While I was still pinning my ID to my coat while simultaneously walking up the stairs, I hear Hodgins saying, "The pond is not only warm and teeming with microbes, which accelerated decomposition, but it houses black carp and coy which fed on the body." We all walk up to this grossly muddied skeleton. It was interesting to me, because I had never, in person , seen a skeleton like this before. Thank goodness I'm only assisting for now!
"Can I, as the only normal person in the room," Angela said, "Say EW?" I looked to her wondering why she didn't see me as normal. I thought I was normal.
"I got three larval stages," Hodgins continued, "Of trichoptera, chironimidae…" I've heard of these flying insects before, I thought, I must've read them in a book.
"As we cut to the chase," She clearly didn't want to be explained anything today.
"The body was in the pond one winter and two summers," he said quickly.
"Spring before last," Dr. Brennan said.
Hodgins smirked, quickly changing topic, "You really think I'm Lesty?"
Temperance looked to Angela with furrowed brows and gaping mouth, in confusion of his sentence.
"The book," Angela explained.
"No, no, no," Dr. Brennan says shaking her head, "you're not in the book."
"Sure he is! we all are," Zack said, amused.
"No none of you are in the book. Those are fictitious characters based on…" As she tries to defend herself Hodgins almost rudely interrupts her to show her bone scans on a computer. I believe it to be the ribcage, maybe.
"I found some small bone fragments in the silt," He said.
"We're out of the book now, we're back in real life," Angela said to Dr. Brennan.
"I guess rana temporaria," Hodgins said.
"frog bones…" How does this woman get frog bones from what he just said? I wondered.
"Also some tiny gold links," Hodgins monitor points where, "Those from a fine chain."
"Point of clarification," began Zack, talking about the book again, "I'm not a virgin. Nowhere near in fact," I looked beside me at his smirking face in awe. How could you be so confident in that? Again, I'm wondering too much.
"Who you captured perfectly was booth," Angela started, touching Dr. Brennan's hand slightly in excitement, "Buttoned down but buckets of sexual confidence which, uahh, I for one would love to tap," She says with a slightly mischievous smile.
"It's not right to discuss tapping asses in front of a soaker," Zack said, looked toward the body.
"You could also say it's not right to discuss your virginity level here as well," I smiled at him, "It also might make those who have never … Oh, what's the term, "" done it"" feel a little bit pressured. "
"You mean- you're saying you've never?" He looks me straight into my eyes. I simply look everywhere but his eyes, "I seem to be forgetting that, some girls at 15 prefer not to."
"Or," I continued , "Some girls, regardless of age, have a few morals." I was low-key angry now.
"Ms. y/l/n," Hearing Dr. Brennan mentioning my name made me turn my head quickly to her, "I am very glad you were available to work with us, but arguing in such a manner should be permitted while you are working," I quickly shut my mouth and meekly nodded, "Anyways, I can't bounce back and forth between my book and real life. Since we're stuck in real life, let's just forget the book." She directed.
"I haven't analyzed whatever it was the victim was holding in her hand," Hodgins looks to the bone scans on the computer, "But it looks like cellulose."
"Paper?" Angela inquired.
"mm, possibly," said Hodgins.
"I found microscopic grit embedded in the skull fragments. I need you to identify those too," Dr. Brennan says to Hodgins, To Zack, She orders, "Remove the remaining tissue, I'll debreed the skull fragments myself, reassemble it so Angela can put a face on our victim."
"Good," Angela is relieved, "I prefer holograms, they don't stink."
Hodgins and Angela begin to walk away. All that's left is me. Yay. "And you, Ms. y/l/n. I will have you thoroughly look around the dirt before it gets removed. Most importantly , I would prefer you to specifically focus on the areas surrounding the phalanges, to see if anything is missed. But be careful of whatever it is the victim is holding in her hands. Understood?"
She looks at me with eyebrows raised. I just smile like an idiot and look to Zack, who is just as freaked out as I am. It takes him a second to contemplate, but he then lifts his hand and wriggle all his fingers. Ahh, now I understand, I thought, I got this!
"Of course, Dr. Brennan, I will get right on that." In a hurry I run to the bodies side, trying my hardest to examine the fi- phalanges! Barely hearing what is being said behind me…
#Fan fic#bones (2005)#bones tv#bonestv#bones#bones on fox#zack addy#Zack Addy x reader#temperance brennan#Emily deschanel#jack hodgins#Tj thyne#Angela Montenegro#michaela conlin#eric millegan#seeley booth#david boreanaz#y/n#You#Reader#Yay
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FEM ALIGNED DNI!
This is going to be price x male reader I case you didn't look at tags😋💪
Warnings: death, loss of a loved one, kidnapping, blood, and much more
M/n (you) and price are married btw!
It's had been a few days sense you had texted price but that would happen sometimes because you get busy sometimes and same with price
Price was calm and only mentioned it once when Soap had asked how you were
When on break for the holidays Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost would come over and stay a night
Ghost normally stayed the whole time (family stuff yk yk) but you and price didn't care and actually enjoyed the fact he stayed
When Ghost's mental health would take a massive toll randomly he would try and hide it but you would notice
So you started to help ghost find things that can help him, you had your own fare share of mental problems so ghost didn't feel alone
It got to the point with ghost he called you his dad once (he told you do never mention that to anyone... You told price) and even felt comfortable taking off his mask
So nobody expected a call on ghosts phone during training
Ghost awnsered and was confused
It was your neighbor telling him how you had been gone and that he didn't see you so he grabbed the mail and there was a letter for price and if he wanted it dropped off to the base or if he just wanted price to hear it now
Price decided to have the neighbor read it to him
He didn't expect a letter giving a location saying that they have you and if you don't give them information or he didn't come with information that they would kill you
Ghost and Price wanted to leave to that location as soon as possible but Lawell wouldn't let them
When they looked up the location barely anything came up, like, not even a picture of the place
It had been about a week and during dinner Ghost got another call so he awnsered it
Ghost: hello who is this?
?? : this is Ghost correct?
Ghost: yes? Why must you know
?? : should we show them him?
??? : he's out cold right now dumbass
Ghost: what the fuck are you guys talking about!?
?? : are you on speaker?
Ghost: yes??
?? : M/n price ring a bell?
Price: WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!
?? : want to see?
The camera was then turned on and faced towards a h/c male who's head was down but you could tell he was in really bad condition, "we didn't cut out his tongue don't worry, he can still talk" everyone that was by Ghosts phone was frozen in shock. Price made all the recruits and other people leave and they all listened going to their respective rooms "wake him up" suddenly another male came into view and walked up to m/n knife in hand, he then dug it into an already open wound making it even worse, right as he started to move the knife the male woke up and started to scream in pain. The camera got close and the person behind it pushed the male that was digging the knife in the wound away "get a stool, we will be nice and let him talk to you, not like he knows where the fuck he is right now" the phone was then set on a stool still facing the h/c male and then the two men left.
Price: M/n?! M/n are you awake??
M/n: I'm awake love don't worry
Soap: we told Laswell about the current situation she's going to send people out for you. She won't let us go through so please be-
M/n: don't send anyone out, it's a trap, please,
Ghost: m/n we need to find you so we can make sure you are ok
M/n: It's ok Si. Even if the team does get here I think you all know what they would find
Price: don't say that m/n please
M/n: Don't cry guys
Ghost: we will find you m/n.....i don't care how but we will get you and you will be-
M/n: Hey Gaz..
Gaz: Yeah
M/n: take care of the others for me, please
Ghost : M/n don't say that, you can leave me, you can't leave us, please m/n stay alive however you-
M/n: Calm down Si. Remember our breathing exercises, stay calm, don't panic, count your surroundings
Price: do whatever you need for these people to set you free, anything I don't care just don't die please
M/n: Just remember guys. Remember who your are becasue you shouldn't be afraid of losing someone, you should be afraid of losing yourself
Right as that was said there was a sound of a door being opened and then the phone was picked up and the camera was turned off "any last words to these people. Unless you do have information" "I love you guys, I love you Simon, I love you price, see you soon" then the call ended.
(Mini time skip)
The people Laswell sent out had just driven to the base and got out the car with guilt and sad faces, then two of them went into the back of the car and grabbed three people "these are the people..." Everyone was relieved to have the kidnappers but they also questioned where you were "what about m/n?" The team shared a look then they looked down "when we got to the location he... Wasn't there.....only thing left was tons and tons of blood" immediately the three people, two men and one woman were taken into questioning
Nobody fessed up on what they had done to you or if you were alive, this was until price had enough and walked into a room where Gaz was with an about 5'7, brown hair, average looking male and started to scare the absolute hell out of the guy. Price was taller than him, stronger than him, and could easily rip the man in half if he wanted, this made the guy fess up saying they had ended up ripping your tongue out and after they made sure you had died they left you in a trash can behind the house. To call Price furious was an understatement. He's had to be forced out the room so he wouldn't beat the life out of the guy, finally the three people had been taken fully away and were going to be taken to court and then Gaz, Soap, Price, Ghost, Laswell, and others showed up to the house to find you.
They called the police and investigaters were on their way, when they found your body and they all saw what you looked like price couldn't help but let out a scream while crying. You were his husband. His lover. The person who took care of him all the time. Now he was looking at your lifeless and beaten up body, barely able to realize what was old and what had been done recently.
(Time skip. The team are all now retired and no longer in the military)
Ghost officially moved in with Price and they both helped comfort each other along with Gaz and Soap helping and when they need comfort the others would be there waiting with open arms. It was the anniversary of the first time you had met the team so they were all over at Price's place, this time Soap deicided to bring over a few nieces and nephews because they had wanted to meet the others.
Price was sitting on the couch watching the younger kids look around when a young boy pointed to a picture of you in a library with a drink in hand "Uncle Johnny who's this? He's very pretty!" Price got up and went over to the picture grabbing it the same time Soap, Gaz, and Ghost had walked in but because they were behind them Price didn't notice. "This is my husband, his name is m/n. He is very beautiful isn't he? He knows your uncle" the way Price was talking about you made the three males heart melt, the amount of love and admiration in his voice was unimaginable "I wanna meet him! Where is he? is he in the military like you guys were?" Price looked back down at the picture and brushed his finger over your face "he's no longer alive buddy, I'm sorry, I wish you could meet him, he was so sweet and caring, he would spoil you guys rotten. He always had a love for children." The young boy hugged price as much as he could and as tight as he could "it's ok! He's always going to be with you. It's like something I heard once " don't be scared of losing someone, be afraid of losing yourself" meaning that you should always remember who you are and don't forget that" price couldn't help but hug the smaller boy while tears welled up in his eyes.
"Why don't we visit him? You might not be able to talk to him but you can visit his grave" Ghost walked in slowly making sure not to scare them to badly "I have stuff you can leave at his grave if you want" price and the younger boy let go and he nodded happily "let me go get my siblings then we can all visit pretty person!" And like that the young boy was running to get his siblings.
They drove to your grave and all of soaps nieces and nephews Introduced themselves then placed down your favorite snack and a flower of their choosing "let's give Price so space alright kiddos?" They all nodded and watched and price took a picture of you and placed it down along with your favorite flower "I miss you m/n. Sorry I didn't visit last week. I love you so much. I wish you could be here to see how much the others and I have grown. I don't know where you are now but just know you got justice and the three people who hurt you are gone. I'll see you again next week darling" price kissed the headstone that had your name, and date of birth on it and the date of death on it then stood up turning to the others "who wants to go get some food?" Everyone nodded and started walking back to the car Ghost and Price walking next to each other the look of a thousand years of guilt but also happiness on there faces
"𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨"
THIS ACTUALLY MADE ME CRY💀. ALSO THIS GOT DELETED LIKE THREE TIMES SO I'VE HAD TO REWRITE IT SO MUCH IT'S UNREAL. I didn't expect this to be so long but 🤷♂️🤷♂️ anyways bye bye
#male reader#cod x male reader#captain price x male reader#angst#idk why its so long im sorry😭#fem aligned dni
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