#the dark pictures x reader

[that-irishman-fan]

complicit/a charlie lonnit x reader fanfic

FANDOM: The Devil In Me/The Dark Pictures Anthology

GENRE: A one-shot edited fanfic and unrequested, simply me indulging!

SYNOPSIS: ( SPOILERS AHEAD ) Charlie has been accused of being complicit after a clue is found to lead his friends to believe he might not be who they think he is, though the one he loves is quick to step in. This would be my loose take on the guilty complicit ending for Charlie if he survived it. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Spoilers for the game, swearing, implied then blatant crush, and angst!

As always, Charles Lonnit had become the villain of the story, if that was the right term to describe his predicament. There was nothing he could have done to quash the accusations. Stop the theories flying out from the mouths of people he had trusted. What had been on that tape incriminated him for an evil he hadn’t committed in the first place. Any fragments of trust left in him had shattered before his very eyes. Suddenly he was the guilty one. The role of the co-conspirator who wallowed in unspeakable sin had been ascribed to him. A wolf in sheep’s clothing crawling amongst them. Would his crew ever believe that he was their friend again? Whatever the case, he knew in the immediate moment that grave danger lurked around every corner; and that it was likely he would fall into its clutches if he could not convince his friends of his innocence. 

Complicit. What a foul word to speak. A stinging bullet fired from a merciless shotgun. He wouldn’t have dared to call himself a saint, but to say he was a sinner beyond redemption cut deep. 

Complicit. If they truly believed that, why not be done with him? Carve it into his chest and throw his body to the birds. Have him face the heavens for an omniscient, mysterious god to recognize him for the traitor he was and cast him into the blackest hellfire. 

Complicit. Nine letters, nine evils manifested. He was none of those. 

“ I’m not buying it. ” a voice soft in caution interrupted in the darkness. Mark and Erin turned towards the direction where Y/N stood, their fists clenched to their side. Surprise replaced the defensive expression on his face, his brows arching upwards over the frame of his glasses. His heart did a leap inside his chest, hope lightening the burden he carried on his shoulders. The metallic taste of fear on his tongue subdued. A breath he didn’t know he was holding pierced the silence. What were they playing at? Did Y/N have doubts that he was involved? Or was he hearing what he wanted? 

“ What do you mean? It’s all right there, Y/N! Do you want me to rewind the tape? ” Erin cried, seizing the cassette player from its spot on the table. 

“ If Du’Met is capable of building this fucked up murder castle, I imagine it’s not a stretch to assume he could edit this to fit whatever purpose he had. Think about it, Erin. You’re a sound engineer, do you really believe that Charlie was complicit in this whole thing? ” 

Complicit. There was that word again. 

“ Look at the other one, then! Use your fucking head, I’m no traitor! ” Charlie butted in, his indignant rage getting the better of him in the moment. Mark was noticeably quiet, trying to gage who to trust from the sidelines. 

“ Shut up, you don’t get a say in this matter!” Erin fired back, doing as Y/N had instructed her. She clicked on the other tape recorder, ear perked to listen for any evidence that would convict him. Fizzles of worry sparked in Charlie’s stomach, for a reason he could not explain. Why he was so nervous despite not having any malicious intent to begin with was past him. The second he heard his real voice fill the room speaking nothing but the truth, that anxiety died. A sob caught in Erin’s throat, her eyes dark in a mixture of shame, fear, and anger Inside of him, his mean streak revelled in her guilt. Seeing her wrong gave fuel to that inferno of bitter pleasure next to his white hot fury at the entire situation. Yet, there came a tiny pleading voice in the back of his mind that reprimanded him. Was he really going to hold a girl responsible for her completely sensible terror? Nonetheless a sweetheart like Erin Keegan who did not possess an evil bone in her body. No, he wouldn’t stoop to that level. 

“ See what I mean? Du’Met is trying to divide us so we’ll turn on each other. It’s another one of his sick psychopathic turn-ons.” Y/N whispered, keeping their tone neutral as was possible. 

“ I agree with Y/N. It makes us easier to pick off one by one. If Charlie really was the bad guy, wouldn’t he have tried to lead us off into more danger? I haven’t seen anything like that.” Mark replied, casting a calm look towards his boss.

“ I’m so sorry, Charlie...” came Erin’s quavering reply, to which he gave a stern but forgiving glance at. 

Gratitude blossomed up in Charlie’s chest, the most towards Y/N, who was talking to Erin. A flower of love sprouted for the screenplay writer across the room. Whether he wanted to get down on his knees and thank them or kiss them, he could feel himself falling harder for them. No longer was he the guilty one. If he could only get off this accursed island, he would make them see he was more than innocent. 

‘ If I get out of this circle of Hell, I swear to give up smoking and make them mine. The only crime I’m complicit for is for falling head over heels for you, Y/N.’ he thought, a small assuring smile playing on his thin lips for the first time in the previous few hours. 

Complicit. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be complicit if it meant his dreams were fulfilled. 

A/N: God this was total shit, but I wanted to write something for my sweet British baby boy Charlie even if it wasn’t up to par with my normal standards. I fucking love the Dark Pictures games and Charlie Lonnit most of all, and wanted to express it as best as I could! This anthology has become my entire life the past month, the amazing people on this platform in the fandom helping to find another passion of mine which I thank them for! 

I’m going to tag the coolest person I know @itscrimsonsixx​ for this fanfic, I’d love to hear your opinion on my writing here if that’s cool with you, bestie! Everybody please have a fantastic New Year and enjoyable rest of your Holidays! Thank you so much for reading!

[grievedeeply]

Could you write some dating Andrew HCs from Little Hope?

god i was hoping someone would request this. i'm going to pretend like the end of the game was completely different than what it actually was, aka.. he's a real person, not just a figment of anthony's imagination. thanks for the request and i hope you enjoy!

gn!reader | tws: none!

NEW TAGLIST FORM!!!

dating andrew (little hope) headcanons

in the game, he mentions in a piece of dialogue with angela that he believes no girl would be interested in him, and he formally sticks to that idea. he doesn't think of himself as a good enough guy for anyone, and why would they like him, anyways? there are plenty of other people who are better than him

you first meet him through a college class, both wide eyed and anxious freshman who sat next to each other on the first day. no words are exchanged for the first few weeks, only friendly smiles and subtle glances at each other as though you were both anxious to start a conversation

you end up missing a day of class, and andrew is probably the only person you trust to have actually taken his notes. the next day, you'll ask him if you can copy them and he can hardly hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest

you're staring at him, waiting for a response, and all he does is nod. it takes him a few minutes, but he jots down his number on a post-it note and slides it over to you. you send him a text after class and he'll take pictures of every single page of notes for you

a sweet friendship blossoms after that, and andrew quickly develops a MASSIVE crush on you, one that he never intends to act on. he's afraid of losing you as a friend. he just wants you in his life

so.. you have to make the first move. it's definitely something casual, and when you ask he swears he's misheard you. a date? with him? he nods, and all you can do is grin

one date turns into a few, and you ask him to be your boyfriend. he still doesn't understand why or how you ended up liking him, but he doesn't want to dwell on it too much in fear that it would all be a dream... this poor boy

in a relationship, he is so attentive. not that he wasn't already, but he's practically at your beck and call. he just wants to support you in any way he can and acts of service is one of his love languages

he is SO big on hugs. he'll come up from behind you, his chest pressed up against your back.. it's so relaxing to feel you next to him. it really soothes his nerves

he really enjoys cuddling, too. he has trouble sleeping some nights and he especially loves it whenever you feel up to be the one holding him. your relationship is so loving and he is beyond grateful for you

honestly, he'll indulge in every love language. he loves spending time with you, even in silence. you could both be doing work for school in each others presence and it would be enough for him

definitely keeps track of things you say you like. every interest you mention, he'll remember somehow. you could mention liking something months ago and he'll show up with it on your birthday, and you wouldn't even remember bringing it up

words of affirmation???? he LOVES it. he loves showing his appreciation for you. you made dinner last night? he'll tell you he loved it. you breathe in his vicinity? he'll tell you he appreciates you. he needs you to know he cares for you

you're his first serious partner. the only person he's ever really.. loved. he's had crushes before, but they never went anywhere

he tells you he loves you for the first time completely randomly. you're probably just washing dishes or watching a movie with him and you laugh, and all he can think of his how much he loves you. his mouth moves faster than his brain, and he admits his love for you

much to his surprise, you don't break up with him on the spot. you tell him you love him too, and it's a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders, but your words open another door in your relationship

the future has always been a bit of a scary thing to think about for him, but he was alone up until he met you. he isn't really that afraid of it anymore. he knows he has you, and that's more than enough

speaking of him being inexperienced.. he has his first kiss with you

he swears he has no idea what he's doing, but the way his hands caress your cheeks and come to rest on your sides tell you otherwise. he's a very fast learner and comes to know what you enjoy with ease

very big fan of soft make out sessions after a long day. he just loooves kissing you and he cannot help it

you make him feel so safe and he hopes he makes you feel the same

he definitely pictures some type of future with you. a shared apartment, a dog/cat.. something. he yearns for it, almost

he can only hope you don't tire of him

but he has nothing to worry about. you never will

[radical-ghostface]

God he looks so good in black 🖤🐍

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

had the realization that Foul Legacy would absolutely ADORE Natlan's hot springs.

you have to get special permission from the People of the Springs, since they need to let everyone know about the intimidating but completely harmless Abyssal beast splashing around in their waters- thank Archons for Mualani and her ability to handle this situation. once that's covered, though, you and Legacy have a blast soaking in the hot water, letting it seep into your aching bones and muscles and wash away the stress. rarely do you have the time to actually put down your work and take some time of leisure, Legacy even less so because of Childe's Harbinger duties. he's a Hydro user too, so he's perfectly happy with turning over and diving beneath the waves, letting the water roll off of his back and chittering gleefully. occasionally he'll duck under, playfully stalking you before bursting up and showering you with droplets of warm water and mischievous trills and clicks.

he feels like a whale under the water, gliding through the depths of the ocean. perhaps it was like that once, back when he was alone and trapped beneath the world of Teyvat, with only dread birds and shadows to keep him company. the time you enjoy the hot springs is still dark, twilight far behind you. it would scare people a bit less, you reason, if you two take the evening hours rather than the busy, crowded daytime. Foul Legacy doesn't mind. right now, it's just you and him. you, him, and the vast night sky above, twinkling with countless stars. Legacy swims to your side and nuzzles against your shoulder, nudging his head insistently under your chin until you laugh, reaching a hand to bury in his thick coppery hair, and your Abyssal moth monster purrs deeply in the wonderfully warm water.

he feels like a whale, swimming amongst the sea of stars, a brave adventurer by his side to chart them all.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Pretty As A Picture

Title: Pretty As A Picture

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Warnings: Murder Daddy, gun, murder(not Reader), chase, knife play, kidnapping, pet names(gumdrop, princess), slight dacryphilia, Sir kink, blood, language, head injury, bondage, cutting clothing with a knife, DUBCON, unprotected rough p-in-v sex, pussy slapping, hyperspermia, slight aftercare, implied captivity

A/N: This is my late submission to @the-slumberparty’s Naughty or Nice Challenge. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You sit on the bench in the park, digital camera resting against your sternum as it dangles from the strap around your neck. The sky shines above you and illuminates the world around you as you look for something to capture. It’s been so snowy and the park’s surfaces are covered in white fluff. You had to wipe off the bench considerably to be able to sit down on the old wooden seating.

Your knee-length puffer coat is zipped and buttoned, but you still cross your arms to retain heat when the wind sweeps through, blowing snow in your face. You’ve taken about a handful of photos of empty swings and the slide that has become an ice luge. You hear voices nearby and turn toward the sound.

Two men are talking in the front seat of a town car parked on the edge of the park. Strange that they would pick here to have a casual conversation, but you can’t blame them. You came here for the peace too.

Curiously, you raise your camera and point it at the men. You zoom in, trying to read their lips, snickering when you see the younger man’s mustache. That was a choice. You catch little snippets here and there. But you can’t put all the pieces together. You are just about to lower your camera when movement surprises you.

You freeze when you see the man with the mustache on the passenger side bring out a pistol with a silencer on the end of it. He points it at the man in the driver’s seat and pulls the trigger. The mustachioed man then proceeds to wipe down the interior of the car and exits.

He turns to face the park, putting his hands in his pockets. He closes his eyes, tilting his head from side to side to relieve tension in his neck. When he notices you, you lower the camera slowly and wish upon wish that you can make it back to your apartment before he catches up to you. 

You let your camera hang around your neck and rise from the bench. Turning on a dime, you race between the swingset and head for your building. You are barely past the seesaw when you feel the man’s body crash into yours. Air escapes your lungs as you hit the ground and your camera is whipped to the side of you. You are disoriented for a second before you are turned around and grabbed by the front of your coat.

“Well, what do we have here? A little spy, maybe?” The mustachioed man removes one hand from your coat to reach into his pocket and withdraws a butterfly knife, holding it to your neck, “Who do you work for?”

You squeak when the point of the knife meets your skin, the sharp poke keeping you from moving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just taking photos of the park. I didn’t see anything.”

He turns the knife slightly, the tip penetrating your neck. You feel the sting of the cut as a drop of blood slowly trails down the blade. He watches as you plead with your big doe eyes for him to let you go.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh, gumdrop. Anybody who says ‘I didn’t see anything’ most definitely saw something. The question is: What do I do with Little Miss Photographer?” His tone could have been considered sweet, if not mocking.

“Please, let me go. You can have the camera. Just please don’t hurt me, Sir.” Unshed tears blur your eyes and you try to blink them away but they fall down your cheeks.

He bites his bottom lip, shaking his head slowly. “Calling me Sir and crying for me? I just may have an idea of how to...take care of you, princess.”

He pockets the knife, the pressure of it releasing from your neck. Standing you to your feet, he turns you to start walking to the left, away from the direction of your apartment. With one hand on your coat, he reaches down and grabs the camera as you walk, his long legs moving faster than your shorter ones.

Once you get to a car, he tries to put you in the front seat but you get the sudden urge to fight for your life. You let him open the door then you kick it closed, turning in his arms and scratching at his face. He jerks away when three nails make contact with his forehead and slide down to his temple.

“Fucking bitch!” Blood wells to the surface and starts to trickle down his face. He grabs you by the skull, bringing you toward him before he smashes your head into the passenger door. It slows you down and your head pounds. Your legs are out from under you as he picks you up bridal style and takes you to the back of the car. 

You are barely alert while he speaks to you. “It didn’t have to be like this, gumdrop. All you had to do was get in but no, you had to be a brat,” He sets your feet down on the ground so he can grab a key fob from his pocket. The trunk opens and you are lifted inside, the zipper on your long coat being pulled down to reveal your clothing underneath. “Well know this. I don’t tame brats, ok? I correct them. Now, you get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” He taps the end of your nose and winks down at you.

Your vision swims but you register him leering at you while licking his lips. He’s kind enough to not close the trunk too hard. You hear his steps crunching in the snow as he walks around the car. A door opens and closes, the engine turns over. You lurch toward the back of the car when it starts to move away from the curb. The darkness of the space and the steadiness of his driving lull you to close your eyes, falling asleep soon after.

"...you there, Gumpdrop?” 

You hear a voice that feels distant. Slowly, you pick your head up and open your eyes to see the man with the mustache sitting in front of you on a bed. He has two flexi-strips holding together the scratches you gave his face. Your coat is off, you are left in your fuzzy green sweater and black skirt. You try and move but you only wince when you look up to see your hands cuffed to the framework of the headboard. Your thigh-high sock-clad feet are left free and his hand idly moves up and down your shin.

When you try to move your leg away, he holds it back and squeezes your ankle as a warning. You don’t want any more head trauma so you resign yourself to doing whatever he wants.

“I am so glad you’re awake. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands to myself. Well, I did take these,” he reaches into a pocket and pulls out the familiar white panties, and waves them in your face, “Oh don’t worry, I didn’t play with that pretty little pussy. Wanted you awake for that.” He winks at you and stands. 

You watch as he walks away, listening to his footsteps going and then coming back. In his hands is your camera, safe and sound. He brings it up to his face, the lens moving forward and back before you hear the snap of the shutter.

“God, you are too damn sweet, gumdrop,” he coos, kneeling on the bed between your legs. He lifts your skirt and snaps a few photos of bare pussy. He hums, letting the camera dangle from the strap around his neck. The butterfly knife is back out, you shudder and he puts a hand up. “Calm down, pretty girl. Just gonna cut these pesky layers off you so don’t move unless you want me to cut you.”

You shove fear down and nod, following as he cuts through your skirt and sweater like butter. When he gets to your bra, he hooks a finger between your sternum and the fabric, cutting into the center of the material. When you are laid bare in front of him, he cups his crotch and groans. He raises the camera again and snaps away.

He takes the camera by the strap off of his neck and sets it on the nightstand. As he moves his hand back, he takes the opportunity to squeeze your tits. Pinching your nipples, he chuckles when you whine.

“Please...um, Sir?” you blurt, a mix of pain and pleasure radiating through you. You wish you could close your legs to get some friction but he is back between them.

“Lloyd,” he offers, still tweaking your nipples, “You can call me Lloyd, gumdrop.”

“Lloyd…um, please… uh,” You subconsciously begin to twist your hips and he gets the hint.

“Aww, my little princess needs some attention on her little pussy, huh?” You’re only turned on by his mocking tone and condescending words. He leans in to kiss and nip at your neck while he grinds his covered dick against your now slippery folds. “Alright, alright. I won’t tease you anymore. I know you need this much more than I do, gumdrop.” He uses one hand to unzip his pants and pull out his stiff dick. 

Although it is obscured from your vision, by the way he has to tilt his hips, you can tell he is packing a sizeable length. Covering the tip in your juices, he taps it against your clit. When he enters you, the stretch has you hissing along with Lloyd. He tilts his hips away from you and then comes back, going a bit deeper inside you. Adjusting his arms, he wraps one under your head and the other hand goes to hold your side while your legs wrap around him.

By the time you are used to his size, his hips are slamming into the backs of your thighs. His hand is sure to leave bruises on your hip and you don’t give a fuck in the slightest. He’s already restrained you and cut your clothes off. Might as well be fully debauched, right?

“Shiiiiit, this pussy is squeezing my fucking dick so good. I can feel you holding back, gumdrop. Let go for me.” He lets go of your hip and uses his thumb to pay attention to your clit. While he leans on his other hand, he clutches the bedspread as his hips continue their onslaught.

Your climax was just out of reach, like a word caught on the tip of the tongue. Lloyd locks eyes with you and lifts his hand, bringing it down to slap your puffy folds. You squeal and it only makes Lloyd slap it again. And that is how you discovered that this was a kink for you.

The tight band that held together your resolve snaps and on the third slap, you lose all control of your body. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in a long moan, your legs clamping around Lloyd’s waist. Your walls flutter around his cock and your orgasm washes over you like a warm summer rainstorm, refreshing and necessary.

“That’s a good girl! Fuck, you are clamped around me like a goddamn vice. Oh, shit. I’m gonna cum, princess. Shit, shit shit!” Lloyd thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and fisting his dick until he’s shooting thick, white ropes across your belly, chest, and neck.

You stop counting the spurts of cum after eight, watching as you essentially get glazed like a donut. He squeezes the head of his dick, pushing out the last dregs of his orgasm. He grabs the camera again, his eye lining up with the viewfinder. “Smile pretty for me.” 

You’re so fucked out that you smile when he asks. He snaps the photo and puts the camera back down. He leaves the bed and walks off, you hear him go down the hall and come back. He carries a wet washcloth and wipes you down, cleaning off the sticky substance before tossing it over his shoulder.

Lloyd opens a drawer in the nightstand, retrieving a small key, and unlocks your handcuffs one by one. He doesn’t offer to check your wrists for bruising, but you don’t expect him to. You’re more than surprised that he wiped his cum off of you, you didn’t want to push it.

“Now, gumdrop. So we’re clear, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m gonna keep you here with me. You’re gonna be my little playtoy. Whenever I need to take out frustration, I’m gonna take it out on this little pussy of yours. Or option B: I could kill you. Your choice.” 

And just like that, your fate is sealed. 

“Option A,” you mumble, tears line your eyes as you yawn.

“I knew you were a smart girl.” He pets your head and your eyes lose focus as you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: I really wish Lloyd would give me a break sometimes lol. I think I got this posted literally on the last day of the challenge.

**Tag List**

@cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @princessaxoo @gummydummy19 @posiemax @motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[toxicanonymity]

it’s giving slasher joel breaking into ur house and taking pics of u while u sleep <3

Omg 😍😍😍

He takes off his boots and puts a Tupperware of leftover lasagna from Mama in the fridge. He sees how peaceful and slutty you look and fumbles in his pocket for his phone and takes a picture. He carefully leans over you and smells your hair. There's a bottle of lube on your nightstand for whoring. He grabs it and decides not to wake you up. He sits in a chair by your bed and jacks off, watching you sleep. Then he puts the lube back, whispers "careful, sweetheart," and texts you the pic on his way out. On his way home, he feels like an idiot because he could've just fucked you. Oh well, variety is the spice of life.

slasher

[vigilante-3073]

Chemistry

JASON KOLCHEK x FEMALE CHEMIST!READER

Summary: A specialist in biohazardous materials and chemical weapons is called to Camp Slayer to assist in the excavation into a buried Sumerian temple.

TW: Mild angst, injured reader, hurt/comfort themes, guns, blood.

Jason stood outside the entrance to the building as he waited for the doctor to arrive at Camp Slayer. A helicopter appeared overhead before slowly lowering down onto the dusty ground below.

Jason watched as a young woman pushed open the door and hopped out, leaning back into the helicopter to grab two large cases of supplies. She dragged them to the edge of the doorway with a grimace at the heavy weight.

Jason quickly made his way over, "Need a hand, Doctor?" He asked loudly over the thrum of helicopter blades as they spun.

"Yes, please," She said, stepping out of the way.

Jason lifted the cases easily, "Follow me," He said, tilting his head towards the building.

The doctor followed Jason across the dusty ground and over to the building, "I'm First Lieutenant Jason Kolchek, Ma'am," He said.

"Doctor Y/N L/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant," She said, pulling the door open for him, "Likewise, Ma'am. We have a workspace prepared for you inside," Jason replied, stepping through the doorway.

Jason led her through the winding hallways of the base before turning and pressing his back against one of the doors to open it, "This room is all yours, Doc," Jason said, watching her move past him and into the large office.

"Wow, this is better than my office at home," She said, looking around at the paintings and sculptures scattered around the large office.

Jason stepped away from the door, "Where would you like these, Ma'am?" He asked.

"Oh, gosh. Sorry, um- Right on the desk would be great," Y/N said, he lifted the cases up onto the tabletop before stepping back.

"What exactly does a chemist bring into the middle of the desert? If you don't mind my asking, that is," Jason questioned.

She took a breath, thumbs popping two of the latches before lifting the lid, "A lot of stuff, actually. I've been told that the Colonel is more prepared for exposure to combat weapons than chemical ones on this mission," She said, sifting through the contents of her case.

Y/N finally found what she was looking for, pulling out a gas mask, "This is going to become your new best friend down there, Lieutenant," She said, holding the mask out to Jason.

He took the mask from her hand, "What exactly do you think is down there, Doc?" Jason asked, "We're going to assume anything and everything," She stated.

Jason watched her as she pulled out multiple boxes of medication and small med cups, "What's that?" He questioned.

"It's called Ciprofloxacin," Y/N said, opening one of the boxes and popping two of the pills out of the foil and into the two medication cups, "It's meant for-" "Anthrax," Jason stated, she nodded.

"Preparing for anything and everything," She said, picking up the two cups and holding one out to Jason.

He took it from her hand, "Cheers," He nodded, bringing the med cup up to his mouth as they both took the pills.

....

The team made it to the sight of the bunker and the soldiers went ahead to clear the compound before bringing in the Colonel, the Doctor and Rachel. Iraqi forces arrived and a firefight ensued, Jason managed to get the Doctor to safety before returning to the shootout.

The ground suddenly began to rumble, knocking Jason off balance as cracks spread quickly across the dirt. Sinkholes opened all across the compound, dragging American and Iraqi soldiers down into the caverns below.

The Doctor had disappeared somewhere in the rubble and everyone was scattered and divided. Jason couldn't help but blame himself, she was defenseless and he had lost her in his effort to protect her during the firefight.

Jason had formed a relationship of necessity with Salim in the tunnels as they fought against the vampire creatures that had been trapped below.

Jason made his way down the tunnel with Salim by his side, their weapons were raised with flashlights pointing forward as they moved quietly down the path. Jason halted in his step when he heard a noise from inside the wall of the tunnel, he and Salim quickly moved to press their backs against the wall.

Jason leaned out, hearing more rustling from the hole in the wall, "There's somethin' in there," He said quietly to Salim.

"Should we try and sneak past it?" Salim asked.

Jason shook his head, "No, let's blitz the fucker," He stated.

"This is a bad idea," Salim muttered, leaning back against the wall with a shake of his head.

"The minute we move that son of a bitch is gonna be on us," Jason reasoned quietly.

"Fine," Salim huffed, "On three?" Jason asked, Salim nodded, adjusting his grip on his gun.

"One... Two... Three," Jason counted. The pair quickly moved towards the hole and shone their lights in, weapons poised to strike.

Y/N sobbed, curling up tighter with her head pressed into the crook of her arm as she held her blood-stained hand up.

"Oh, fuck," Jason muttered, lowering his gun, "Y/N? Is that you in there, sweetheart? It's Lieutenant Kolchek," He said softly.

Her head slowly lifted, she blinked at the brightness of their lights. Y/N was sitting on the ground in a spot just large enough to fit her body with her knees pulled tightly to her chest.

Tear tracks cut through the dirt and blood on her cheeks, "Put that thing down would ya?" Jason ordered, reaching out and pushing Salim's arm down to angle the beam of his flashlight onto the ground.

"Jason?" Y/N asked quietly, Jason squatted down to see her better.

"Yeah, it's me, darlin'. Think you can come out of there for me?" He asked.

She slowly released her legs, shifting onto her knees and crawling through the short but narrow tunnel towards the entrance to the hallway, "There you go, just a little farther, sweetheart," Jason coached, reaching in for her to take his hand.

He smiled when she finally placed her hand in his, brushing his thumb across her knuckles reassuringly. Jason helped her climb out of the wall, standing up and pulling her to her feet with him.

She immediately pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around him as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Jason wrapped his arm around her, his other hand resting on the back of her head.

He buried his fingers in her hair, holding her tightly, "You're okay, I've got ya," He assured softly, hand rubbing over her back as she trembled.

"She's bleeding," Salim stated, shining his flashlight at her side.

The material of her shirt that was visible below her bulletproof vest was soaked with her blood, "Let me get a look at you, sweetheart," Jason pulled away, looking down at her.

The side of her vest was shredded, deep claw marks slicing through the fabric and into her flesh, "They got you good, huh?" He asked, she shook her head stiffly and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"I'm okay," She said.

"Knew you were a tough cookie," Jason smiled.

Jason's eyes flickered up to her hairline, noticing the blood on her skin. Jason reached out, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he tilted her head up, "You hit your head?" He asked, the feeling of ice cold guilt settling in his stomach like a stone.

"When I fell," Y/N said.

"You're feelin' okay though?" He asked, eyes flickering over her body.

"Yeah," She said with a sniff, pressing herself closer to his side.

Salim leaned into the split in the wall, shining his flashlight inside, "My god," He muttered.

"What?" Jason asked, "You need to see this," Salim stepped out of the way, the beam of his flashlight still shining into the wall.

Jason stepped over, "What am I lookin' at?" He questioned, squinting into the divided rock.

"The walls," Salim said.

Jason felt the blood drain from his face when he finally noticed the claw marks carved deep into the rock on either side of the narrow passageway, "Holy shit," Jason muttered, he turned towards Y/N.

Her arms were wrapped loosely around herself as she watched them silently, "Did one of those fuckers try to get you in there? Is that-" He let out a huff, trying to calm himself down.

"Is that how they hurt you?" Jason asked.

"I didn't move back far enough," She mumbled.

"Fuck. I am so fuckin' sorry, sweetheart," Jason said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her body against his chest in a tight embrace.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck, "It's not your fault, Jason," She assured, voice muffled against his shoulder.

"I swear to God that I will get you out of here, alright? I'm not lettin' you die down here, baby," Jason declared.

[icedb1ackcoffee]

Ecologist!Reader aesthetic | Corrupted by Design | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

You stood out compared to the Harkonnens, in more ways than just one. You wore loose clothing: rich brown pants or skirts and deep greens tied around your torso and arms, sometimes flashes of red or blue—all washed out under any sunlight. You carried with you strange jars and herbs, your dark, sunblocking glasses atop your head if not perched on your nose, your waist satchel stuffed with samples—you must have looked completely alien to their more minimalist sensibilities. “You dress oddly for someone from the Imperium,” one of your workers remarked. “Is it your goal to one day turn into a plant, and not just look like one?”

Corrupted by Design (Rated E)

[hrefna-the-raven]

The Quarry - masterlist

all Travis Hackett x female reader

The Naiad (nymph reader)

Chapter 1 - The naiad of the lake

Chapter 2 - Kintsugi

Taste of regret (human female reader)

Chapter 1 - Wednesdays

Chapter 2 - Thursdays

Chapter 3 - Lunch

Chapter 4 - Friday

Chapter 5 - Unspoken

Chapter 6 - Tuesday, 27 October 2015 (18+)

Chapter 7 (final) - Taste of regret

The Aftermath

Chapter 1 - Start believing

Chapter 2 - Behind bars

Chapter 3 - Belly of the beast

Chapter 4 - White wolf

Imagines

Being a counselor at the summer camp

The well

Police academy

Dating Travis

SPN comes to the rescue

Don't you wanna kiss me and seal the deal, Sheriff?

Camping drabble

[tsireyqs]

stepdad! jake would keep a little stash of polaroids of you to jerk off to btw 🫶🏼 like he’d have a picture of you sucking his cock, tears rolling down your face and a combination of his cum and your drool spilling out of your mouth. another is of your pussy stuffed with his cum, bruises painted along your inner thighs and his thumb rubbing at your clit.

but i think his favorite would be of you in all your glory. a full body shot with your legs wrapped securely around his waist and his hand gripping harshly at your hip. the bulge in your tummy is visible as his cock rests deep in your pussy. what gets him though is the visual of your pretty face pinched up with a fucked out expression.

i truly believe he’d have the filthiest picture of you with something like “my girl <3” etched at the bottom

[ally-writes-many-things]

House of Ashes Masterlist

Jason Kolchek

🌶️ All my House of Ashes are 18+. Minors DNI

Sickness

You're A Father P1

You're A Father P2

You're A Father P3

Youre A Father P4

Patch Job 18+

I saw you die

Tells P1

Tells P2

Tells P3

Tells P4

Tells P5

Tells P6

Tells P7

Tells P8

Tells P9

Tells P10

Tells P11

Protection

Tiredness

I got you

Promises P1

Promises P2

Promises P3

Promises P4

Promises P5

Promises P6

Promises P7

Promises P8

Where I begin P1

Where I begin P2

Where I begin P3

Where I begin P4

Where I begin P5

Where I begin P6

Where I begin P7

Eric King

Heh, always loyal, huh? P1

Heh, always loyal, huh? P2

Heh, always loyal, huh? P3

Heh, always loyal, huh? P4

Heh, always loyal, huh? P5

Deserving P1

Deserving P2

Deserving P3

Deserving P4

Deserving P5

More In Love

[radical-ghostface]

[metamorfishes]

Anyone can love a rose, but it takes a lot to love a leaf. It's ordinary to love the beautiful, but it's beautiful to love the ordinary.

-Mj korvan

[carriondell]

void stiles composing haikus for his beloved, fitting so much vile gross repulsive nauseating visceral horror and passion in only 5-7-5 syllables that when he's done orating the newest poem he's so proud of, dedicated to you alone, you can just about mutter, "oh, that is... lovely..." because how else are you supposed to answer a chaosmongering fox's confession that he dreams of moulding candles from the suet of your kidneys???

[mrsoharaa]

plot twist!!

villain! Miguel is also a fellow spiderman...just obviously 10x's more dark and twisted (and evil, duh lool). <:3 >w>

[ikkosu]

Throwing this at you ikko, because I am obsessed with Pinks fairy’s in Archie’s Knightformers au, butttt, Pharma the freaky little man finding a fairy that can’t run or fly because their wings broken<3 and he uses old test subjects wings to fix theirs despite their disgust to it, partnered with him keeping them as his little pet/experiment.

(Also my friend sent me more pics to use as reaction <3 so I am blessing you with a cat)

compookie!!

rubs hand evilly ohohoh I've been plagued with knightformer pharma and his evil little smile. He's definitely getting his own little fae too.

Quick incomprehensive ramble about my husband, for a moment (sorry prowl) Knightformers / Faeformers are by :

@archie-sunshine and @pinkanonwrites (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(oofm gets a little bit violent at the end)

I'd say before Pharma went bonkers, his methods are a little less unethical. Like Prowl, he won't care much for these playful cretins. They're adorable, yes. Very soft, too. He can see why First Aid and Ambulon are always so keen on squishing their plush cheeks.

Unfortunately, as much as he tries to find them tolerable, one fae in particular switched his colorcoded books to different shelves can you believe that?

How utterly vulgar. He ought to put them in a Jar and send them to Nyon where Rodimus or whatever lives. That'll do the fine job of shutting them up.

Even more strange, this fae prefers to bother him, of all people. Always pottering along with their tiny feet. The wisp flutter of their wigs as they hover close, tugging on his hat, and cloak. Hiding behind pillars, peeking out then giggling when he notices them.

He'd imagine they go for humans like First Aid or Ambulon, since they are far more gentle with their words than he is to them

The annoyance to that particular fae, though, doesn't last too long.

It was a busy day at the hospital. Darkness veiled the night. He's working the night shift again and everyone had gone to their quarters. The halls are empty. It feels a little isolating but he'll have to make do.

After a small dreadful nap on his desk that left his throat sore and back.pained — Pharma wakes up with something warm over his back. He sits up straight and the something his back billows and pool to the ground. A — he pinches the material between his fingers, eyebrows cocked — blanket?

And the sprinkled dust of glitter on one end drew a smile to that face.

"Good, little cretin."

Pharma and fae aren't particularly close after, but he does acknowledge the fae and does, a little bit, grow more tolerant of them. In the gardens, where he'd go out for fresh air and a semblance for peace, fae would perch on his shoulder as he reads his book. Their tiny legs would swing aimlessly as their eyes peering over to read.

He's not sure the little thing understands but when he'd flip a page a little too early, he's halted by their itty hands and a trill. Pharma waits little, couldn't resist raising a finger and scratching the back of their ears, before turning the page after.

He couldnt retract his finger since fae is already nuzzling against it. So he keeps it there for as long as he remembers ( he couldn't perform surgery and had First Aid take over because of how sore his hand was).

Post-delphi Pharma, though. Yikes, okay. Everything is in shambles. Tarn comes and goes, and as he goes, chaos runs rampant and dances along every crook and cranny of Delphi like a forest fire.

Pharma isn't spared, either.

Fae, and the many others, find themselves scuttling away to a nearby forest. Their friend, a fae with green streaks to their wings, breedles to them about a new hideout in the caves.

Fae nods and follows along, before the group breaks off unceremoniously when a panther had caught on to their little group.

Fae persists to a different path. In doing so, unluckily encounters a bandit when they were trying to flee. It's not your usual, pillaging, loot lover bandit — these were the ones who snatch faeries and strip them of their magic dust.

A lot of fae's have been caught recently and the growing numbers are not one to mess with.

And, a quick scuffle between the two, led to fae hitting the floor hard. They squeak weakly, pawing the ground, trying and failing to flutter their wings. But it hurts. Thair back hurts. Their body hurts

Distraught, the shadow closes in on them, eyes of the bandit white half-moons of mirth as hands almost curl around fae's body—

And a sickening splat resounds after.

Fae opens their eyes and sees a different man looming. It's Pharma, eyes half lidded as he stares over the crook of his nose, down at the body in front of him — not the fae.

One side of his cheek had blood smeared across and over his hand, curls a crimson mottled axe. Fae doesn't want to see what's left of the body and looks away with a small shuddered trill, arms covering their faces.

This isn't the Pharma they knew..

Crass as he were — Pharma would never be so grotesquely vulgar as this.

The medic regards the little cretin for a moment, likely assessing the damage of their wings. He notices there's a stutter in the movements. Muscles, strained. Arms, limp.

Then, with another look to the body, silently, pharma grabs the fae with his free hand — blatantly ignoring their startled trills and their little kicks — and starts heading back to Delphi.

Everything was quiet. The hallways were quiet. The evening air was quiet. Even the gardens they so often mingle about — were dreadfully stale.

Pharma lays the fae down on the table, who scuttles to the edge in a fit of panic.

"I did tell the man to go after the least energetic ones." He murmered and pinches their ankle to stop their movements

Fae kicks at his fingers. He doesn't budge. Instead, he brings out wires from a drawer and starts coiling them into rings.

"Seems like he doesn't very much like listening to my orders." The wires were cold to their wrists then more cooler around ankles. "He's got what's coming, poor fellow. But that's done, now. I don't have to pay him, anymore. He's done enough—"

Fae let's out a squeal and thrashes around.

"Oh, don't give me that look, cretin. You'd think I'd spare your kind after the potential results you could give me?" He says lowly and clamps his entire hand on their body.

The table rattles..Fae shudders and weakly trills, pawing away at his palm. Tears sting their cheeks.

"But no worries." He leans closer. A small smile. "I'm fond of you, I'll give you that. That's only if the gift I'm planning to give you is of your taste. Look around, cretin. A new wing i've culled — just for you. You can choose as many as you like."

And fae swivels around, heart lurching in their chest. They've realized there were jars all around, perched in the shelves and were filled with faes...

Limp shadows. No longer bright. No longer breathing.

A particular jar caught their eye. They were wings. The miniscule body is a mere silhouette under the dim light. And, streaks of green dances across the glint of the wings.