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#on a more personal note (if anyone likes reading tags c': ) this whole story is about me losing my dog of nearly 14 years :'(((
moonasketch · 10 months
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some visual development/ideas for a personal story project im working on c': <3
The (short) story is about a character called Monday and their missing friend, Orion. At the start of the story Monday and Orion get separated and Monday gets help from a fox and a bunny they meet at the start of their journey to finding Orion. :)
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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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!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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bennyden · 3 months
Text
User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism
Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.
I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.
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First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 
I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 
On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).
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Not SFW content starts here. 
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Not SFW content over.
Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 
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“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.
“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.
My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:
If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.
If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.
In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 
And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 
After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 
Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.
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She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 
Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.
Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:
“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”
(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).
“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”
“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”
So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.
‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’
Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.
I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.
She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.
What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 
She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 
Thanks for reading.
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icharchivist · 5 months
Note
Icha help what is going on with hxh and its multiple endings, the tag is just confusing me even more, I feel like the whole classroom passed a note and I'm the only one who didn't read it, did Togashi play Who Wanna Be A Millionaire and lost because that's what I'm getting.
oh i'm so sorry i have to be the one to break this news to you
you rn:
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so a couple of days ago Togashi was at an event in which he answered some questions from an interview and everything. In this interview, he was asked about the hxh's ending.
Here's what he replied.
the long story short is that he mentioned that he had 3 ending planned for hxh, all of which he calculates would be meet with different level of satisfaction from fans. His favorite ending is Ending C, but he feels like fans will dislike it the most.
However he also added that to give a picture of the possible endings, he's going to share Ending D, which is an ending he disregarded and would not make canon, but then he added "but if i die before i can finish hxh you can imagine this one to be canon"
Ending D is the cliché type of ending from shounen manga where you cut to Gon's daughter, Jin (get it, because Ging, Jin) who is fishing the god of the lake on Whale's Island for Grandma Mito and Noko, her mother (? a brand new character at least.) We learn her father, Gon, has left as an hunter and Jin wonders why her father is living this life, meanwhile "a figure" (probably Gon) is observing this scene from afar.
So as you can imagine, fans have been Losing It™ to say the least. News outlet has been saying THIS is the true hxh ending and now everyone is mad. Homophobic fans have been extremely eager to spam this ending to the replies of anyone talking about Killugon since because "actually Togashi planned on Gon to have a child" and all of that jazz. It's been a riot. On fire. People have been disappointed. Other heartbroken.
... because everyone is acting like it's going to be the actual ending.
While the interview was literally "here's the ending i disregarded but hey, if i die you can use this one in your head"
Like i said personally i think Togashi is trolling and making fun of the fans who are already burying him. It seems too cliché to be serious, and the fact it's not an ending that is considered makes me think it was never that serious to share to start with.
But fans gonna be fans and the fandom has been on fire ever since this interview came out.
And once people calmed down about this ending, people have been theorizing about the others three teased ending and what would Togashi means about "endings fans would find disappointing" and all of that. So that's where we're at right now.
so welcome to this dumpfire, enjoy your stay!
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starchaserdreams · 11 months
Note
Erm, hello!
I am an aspiring writer. I have these stories in my head that I love and want to write about. But when I try, it's the absolute worst shit I've ever seen in my life.
Sorry, what I'm trying to ask is, any tips for younger writers who have no idea what they're doing...?
Hi! I have no idea what I'm doing ever, but I'll try to answer as best as I can. I'll start with generic advice, then say what works for me specifically. Sorry this got so long.
We're all kind of fumbling through life. The writing habits that I have have come from three sources:
a) hearing what other people do and building from them. I'm always in one writers group or another (currently I'm in a local writers group, and I'm regularly involved with two different NaNoWriMo groups in November, one locally and one virtually) and I've picked up a lot from them
b) a metric fuckton of trial and error. Because while part (a) is great some of the time, most of the things that work for other people don't work for me. I can't set a strict schedule at the same time everyday. I can't edit for a long time after I write.
c) NaNoWriMo (see link) helped me SO MUCH. I don't think everything can be written that way, but in terms of getting a handle on your own voice, preventing yourself from stopping to edit, and letting the story flow on its own, NaNo is amazing. It's a great starting point. Editing can come later, once the words are done on the page.
If you're unfamiliar, it's a (totally free) event that happens in November every year where everyone tries to write 50,000 words of a brand new novel in the span of one month. That's 1,667 words per day, so there isn't much time to stop and edit as you go. You just keep going. It's a competition against yourself rather than anyone else, to see if you can accomplish the task. It's also a community based event, so you can commiserate with other writers about the bad and celebrate with them about the good.
They have smaller events in April and July, but to really get the feel of it, November is when it's a party (or a rollercoaster, either way). I went to write-ins in cafes, bars, grocery stores, on the subway, etc. The event is a whole vibe, and now they have in person events again (they paused for covid). If you want to stay virtual, they have that too!
And as for what works for me:
1.
This most certainly wouldn't work for everyone, but it's my current strategy:
I think best when I'm in motion. By far. So most of my storyboarding I do while walking or driving, and I dictate into the notes app on my phone.
I do most of my dialogue this way too, because speaking it out loud makes it feel more like a conversation and more natural. I won't dictate the narration, but I'll include action tags. So it comes out like "Anthony: *flings door open, eyes wide* what in blazes are you doing??" (I add punctuation later)
Then when I get home, I often have several thousand words of notes to work from. My notes file for my last fic was 30k words, almost all of which had been dictated. It's a lot. It might sound daunting.
But it was done while out for a walk or drive, so it felt easy and effortless. And then when it came time to actually write, I got 48,000 words of a first draft done in 8 days (about 15k of which was just copy pasted from the outline. The whole time it felt like cheating and using guidelines to write the actual story, but it was all my original work, just done at different times.
2.
Keep writing as an exciting treat rather than a chore.
I've started to create little writers retreats for myself. My friends and I rented an AirBnB for two nights this winter, where the entire goal was reading and writing. Sure there was sitting around the fire talking and eating good food, but we built it up so that the writing was the exciting part. It worked SO WELL. We did writing activities together too, not just staring at a word doc. We did character studies and made little AUs to imagine our characters in.
A friend and I took a six hour road trip for another writers retreat too. We spent the 12 hours (RT) in the car talking about our stories and characters. We'd started with dozens of prompts so we'd have enough material, and we never ran out. Then we took rest stops at gas stations and restaurants and did little 15 minute writing sprints. It really got me fired up. I wrote 6,000 words over the two days of that retreat!
Keeping writing fun can be big things (my sister and I did a writers retreat like that in Hawaii) or little things (I always treat myself to a donut and a coffee on Sunday mornings and then have a leisurely morning in the cafe writing).
I can't say if any of this will work for you, because I can't even say whether it'll still work for *me* in a few years. But I hope it's food for thought!
Anyway this is like one million words long so sorry about that, hope it was interesting.
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spurious · 7 months
Note
7, 8, 17, 19, 23, 24, 31, 37, 41, 47, 48, and 71, please?
Fic writer asksssss!!!
How do you choose which POV to write from? Truly I do not think about it a lot of the time!!! I start writing and it's in whatever POV it's in?
Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story? Absolutely not the end. Beginning and middle both have their positives though. Beginning is fun because you're setting everything up, but middle is when things start cooking, so.
What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block) ....stop writing for half a decade until i find a new ship that grips me with unmatched ferocity??
What is the most-used tag on your ao3? lmao. it's, uh. "community: kink_bingo" with 11 uses.
Best writing advice for other writers? Oh lord I don't know? Just write, have fun with it, don't use a ton of epithets, aaaand for the love of god please don't use the "cum" spelling, especially when it's a verb. C-O-M-E please
Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you? I haven't personally gotten any writing advice that I can currently remember?
Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing? I guess the plot since I tend to stick with writing in single fandoms with the same small number of characters?
How do you choose where to end a chapter? I don't generally write multi-chapter things. I split O I Think We Should Be Brethren into three which was easy because it's three pretty distinct parts.
Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person? Team re-read!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting? Countless. Innumerable. For the thing as a whole, at least 2-3 rereads before posting.
What do you look for in a beta? no beta we die like someone who has a strong self-editing impulse and is bad at taking criticism
When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.? copious nonsensical notes at the top of my fic document, checklists of story beats, and occasionally handwritten timelines.
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ltleflrt · 1 year
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I posted 10,303 times in 2022
That's 1,219 more posts than 2021!
925 posts created (9%)
9,378 posts reblogged (91%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@slytherkins
@wigglebox
@valleydean
@joasakura
@ltleflrt
I tagged 9,372 of my posts in 2022
Only 9% of my posts had no tags
#destiel - 1,838 posts
#spn fanart - 1,735 posts
#ltlequeue - 1,450 posts
#ltleramblings - 983 posts
#tma - 755 posts
#spn - 696 posts
#tma fanart - 587 posts
#lolsnort - 513 posts
#castiel - 404 posts
#jonmartin - 401 posts
Longest Tag: 110 characters
#and his pink tongue flicked out to catch the cream he’d just revealed made other things in dean’s body tighten
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Desperately trying to keep my clown nose in the jar.
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493 notes - Posted May 19, 2022
#4
I want a Supernatural video game. Something old school SNES side scroller style.  But most importantly, I want it to start out with Sam as the playable character, and then Dean becomes a playable character, and then you can switch back and forth. When Castiel shows up in the game, he’s not a playable character, he’s a special attack that Dean can summon.  And Sam’s special attack would have something to do with his demon blood powers.  And then around the season 6 era, SURPRISE! CAS becomes the playable character for a while, and then for the rest of the game, you can switch between the three of them except during story beats where it has to be one of them specifically.
There’s a whole Wayward DLC too.
DESTIEL ENDGAME OR CHUCK WINS.
705 notes - Posted April 27, 2022
#3
This whole backlash against printing fics irks the fuck out of me, and I got some shit to say about it. Mostly "Fuck You" but here's some nuance:
On the surface, I understand where the naysayers are coming from. It's a legitimate fear that making a profit from fanworks will bring down the C&D Hammer on fandom. I get that. Do not put on the One Ring, or you'll risk the Eye of Sauron.
But here's the thing. Fuck capitalism. Fuck digital only. We're living in the digital dark ages, and 100 years from now huge swathes of our history, fact and fiction, will be lost to our descendants because there will be no physical copies of our lives for them to find in old libraries and boxes in the attic, etc.
Creators deserve physical copies of their creations, and so do the other people in the world who love them.
I don't want to profit from letting people print my fics. That's why I use Lulu, since they have an option to set zero profit and make the links hidden so only fans in the know can get a copy. Other printing sites I've looked at in the past don't have those options. In fact, the first time I ever even thought about printing one of my stories was when I won NaNo for the first time and one of the prizes was a coupon for 3 free printings of your story. HELL YEAH, that's a copy for me, a copy for my beta, and a copy for the artist who made the cover for me. Perfect! But I ended up not using that coupon, because the site required I set a profit margin, and did not have an option to make it private. Ummm, no thanks. Not worth the risk. And even though the profit margin could be set as low as ten cents, I did not want to make ANY money from my fic, because I know that would be breaking Fair Use rules. I found Lulu instead, and decided to let other people get copies too, because I'm nice. And if I don't, it's not like I can stop them from doing it themselves, no matter how much I'd rather they not do that.
But that's not good enough for the Reporting Trolls. Their argument is that it's not possible for it to be completely profit free, since Lulu makes a profit on the printing costs and the shipping carriers make a profit off the shipping costs. Someone is making a profit, and that's unacceptable, even if that someone is not Me, The Person Who Made The Printing and Shipping Worth Paying For.
I would like anyone who thinks that to delete your accounts where you read fanfiction. AO3, Wattpad, FFNet, LJ, Dreamwidth, hell even Tumblr for the short ficlet stuff that only gets posted here. Because even if the website it self isn't profiting, (AO3 for example), the companies that sold them their server hardware made a profit. Since utilities are privatized, the electric company that runs those servers are making a profit. IF YOU PRINT IT ON YOUR PRINTER AND PUT IT IN A 3 RING BINDER, the paper, printer, and ink manufacturers made a profit from your dinky little print out. The companies that build all the parts for your computer or your smartphone made a profit on your portal to the internet, who profits from your monthly subscription, just like your electric company profits from the power it takes to run your pc or charge your phone battery. IT'S A SLIPPERY FUCKING SLOPE, AND YOU NEED TO LEARN WHEN TO BACK AWAY FROM THE LEDGE.
We live in a Capitalist Hellscape, and if a company could figure out how to charge you to breathe and for every single beat of your heart, they'd fucking do it. So get off your goddamn high horses with this "wELL SoMEonE iS makINg PrOFit" bullshit. Or if you truly believe that, shut off every account you own, turn off your utilities, and go live in the woods and make up your own goddamn stories, which you can only share orally to the local wildlife. They give kudos by biting you and giving you rabies.
(not to mention; these assholes don't go after fanartists who are ABSOLUTELY making a profit off their work. but noooo, Flirty can't format a fic for print and allow other people to pay for the printing service and shipping, while never seeing a penny of that herself, despite all of the GODDAMN WORK I HAVE PUT INTO IT, WRITING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE INCLUDED FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufucky--)
977 notes - Posted November 22, 2022
#2
Good Touches: A list compiled by Martin K. Blackwood
Hold his scarred hand. He can still feel the warmth.
Brush the wispy hairs escaping his bun from the back of his neck to get a soft smile.
The wrinkle on his forehead will smooth out if you kiss it.
Kissing his face anywhere has the same effect. Also brings out a smile. Especially lots of kisses right in a row.
Run your fingers through his hair after he takes it down before bed, and he’ll push against your hand like a cat.
(collect more evidence that Jon Is Actually A Cat)
Pull his feet into your lap. Ignore his protests, don’t tickle, just hold them till he relaxes.
That little space at the base of his spine, just below the waistband? Pet it.  Kiss it. Yes, that’s probably purring you hear.
(Jon IS Actually A Cat)
He’ll pretend to sleep if you nudge him onto his belly and stroke his spine.
On a good day, you can trace his scars. Remind him that he’s beautiful so that he has more good days.
1,308 notes - Posted April 13, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
The Chuck Won theory supported by the CW falling and taking more alternate universes down with it.
1,476 notes - Posted January 6, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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justkending · 3 years
Text
Moral of the Story (Prologue)
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Series Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, and a tragic heartbreaking divorce, the two now hold grudges for how the other handled the whole thing in the past. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all. (This summary will be shorter in other chapters. I just needed to get the full concept out there;)
A/N (repeat): So the other day while I was doing my hair (quite the process), I was playing music and the song Moral of the Story by Ashe came on. Mind you, I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but for some reason, this time I got a major story idea! Listening to the lyrics brought me to this new series. Of course, the lengthy summary above will give you an idea of what came to my brain, but I recommend you listen to the song still because it plays a big part in my thought process:) (Plus it’s a good song;) Enjoy and please do not hesitate to share your thoughts and comments with me! I love each and every single one<3
(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N (Modern AU)
Word Count: 1200+
Prologue:
"Melody, have the papers for the Bee's Knees company come in yet?"
"Uh, no. But I can call them again and see if they faxed it or sent over a physical copy though," Melody answered from her desk, already typing away to find the company.
"Perfect. We have a meeting with a recycling plant next week and I want to get everything set before we go in with them," Y/N nodded, coming out from her office with a file in her hands. She turned to her assistant at the front desk who was about 20 emails deep and already finding the issue. "Hey, you're not coming in tomorrow, right?"
"Um, no, no. I am. I rescheduled that date," she answered bashfully as if she had been caught in the act of something.
"Melody..." Y/N drug out, hand on her hip.
"What? I- He understood. He said he was fine moving it to Saturday," the young woman shrugged, never looking back at her boss that was clearly sending her a motherly stare.
"You're already over your 40 hours this week, and you've rescheduled with him, what? 3 times now?" Y/N moved to the front of the desk so the young brunette had to make eye contact with her.
"Yes," she answered hesitantly.
"Is it just nerves or something else?" Y/N smirked.
"I'm not nervous... It's just been a while since I've had time for a date."
"Two things about what you just said in the past minute. One, clearly this guy likes you because he's rescheduled with you this many times and hasn't called it off yet. So if you're nervous about it not going well on his end, I think you're safe," Y/N pointed a finger at her.
"But-," Melody started.
"Second," Y/N cut off with a raised eyebrow. "I'm giving you time to go on a date and you're still not taking it. Work is no longer an excuse."
Melody stopped avoiding eye contact and looked up at the Y/H/C hair woman leaning on her reception desk.
"You've been talking with my mom again, haven't you?" she sighed.
"I promised I'd take care of you. So yes, I have. And though her reasoning for you dating is because she wants grandbabies, I just want you to have fun and live your life. You're 22. Don't waste your young years being scared."
"Ugh, fine. I'll text him now and see if he's still available for tonight," she groaned.
"Perfect!" Y/N grinned in victory as she started to walk back to her office. "I expect the details in the morning," she winked before she walked in.
"Oh, Y/N!" Melody stopped her. "A message came for you while you were in that last meeting."
"Who from?" Y/N quirked an eyebrow, moving back to the desk.
"Uh, I don't really know. Didn't sound familiar, but here's the name and number they said to call back from," she answered, handing her a note.
Y/N took the small paper and looked it over. Her face dropped and her eyes widened.
"You ok? Is it someone you know?" the young assistant asked, noticing what looked like horror on her face.
"Um, yeah. Yeah, an old acquaintance of mine," Y/N tried to quickly brush off. "Um, I'm going to take this. Can you hold any calls and if anyone comes to talk, tell them to just email me?"
"Oh, ok. Yeah, I'll take care of it," Melody nodded.
"Thank you."
Rushing back to her office and quickly shutting her door, she raced to her phone. She read the business name again, not sure if she was dreaming or if it was a hallucination.
Nope. Hammer Attorney was written in Melody's perfect penmanship on the paper with a number that held an area code from New York. A place she never thought she would hear from again and from a town she hadn't visited in almost 10 years._________________
"Buck, did you tell Fury about getting those new water therapy machines?" Steve shouted from his room.
"We're at home, Steve. Why are we talking about work?" Bucky groaned as he slouched on the couch. A beer in hand and a documentary with I Survived stories playing in front of him.
Steve came in from around the corner looking down at his phone in hand before moving his eye line to his roommate.
"Because I just got a call from the night crew saying that the last one that was working, finally went out tonight while they were running it for some test," Steve raised an eyebrow.
"Ugh, you would think that a facility run by a billionaire who literally makes his money on high-tech machines, wouldn't have to ask for those kinds of things," Bucky groaned, grabbing his own phone and going through emails. "Let me check to see if the email went through. He wasn't in office when I went to tell him."
As he was sorting through the hundreds of emails sent back and forth just this week alone, he found the reply message.
"Yeah, management confirmed it. They should be in by Saturday it looks like. Guess Stark was still working out the kinks to a new one and was waiting to send one our way until the last one died to get more time on his newest model."
Steve nodded before walking to the kitchen and typing Bucky's response to the other crew members.
"The man is always finding new ways to upgrade them before he can even send them to us."
Just as Bucky was about to throw his phone to the side again though, it started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he didn't recognize the unknown number. It was from in-state but in his hometown area of Brooklyn. He pinched his eyebrows together confused at the call, but answered it anyway, thinking it must be someone from home.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Mr. Barnes?" The other voice answered.
"Yes, this is him. Who's this?" he asked, sitting up a little and putting the beer on the end table.
"My name is Matthew Murdock. I work at Nelson and Murdock Law firm," he went on. Bucky shook his head not knowing what that was supposed to mean. "Well, you may actually know us previously as Hammer Attorney. We recently just took over their business after some fraud issues."
Bucky's heart stopped. He knew what that name meant.
"I hate to inform you, but we were going through some of their old files. Ones we were informed could be incomplete or done completely incorrectly due to little care in the actual cases, but more so in taking the money."
"Incomplete cases?" Bucky said softly. His brain was still trying to wrap around the conversation.
"Yes, unfortunately, it looks like a lot of cases having to deal with divorces that the past owners handled, were done strictly in order to launder money. They weren't actually certified, nor trained in handling divorce settlements."
Bucky froze. Eyes wide. Mouth agape.
He stuttered out a response when the man on the other line didn't continue.
"A-And talking about incomplete divorce settlements, you called because..." Bucky knew. He needed to hear it out loud because if he didn't, it wasn't true. It couldn't be.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Barnes, but it looks as though you and your wife, Y/N Y/L/N or sorry, Y/N Barnes, are actually not divorced."
(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)
Moral of the Story Taglist:
@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555  @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​ @pham-tastical 
My Lovelies forever:
@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @carls1022​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​
Bucky Barnes Tags:
@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​
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poetrusicperry · 3 years
Text
the poets and their first summer jobs
i’ve seen some discourse about how rich all the boys/their families are, and of course there would be like very little reason for them to work, but i couldn’t help wondering who would do what for their first jobs (summer jobs bc they couldn’t work while they’re at school). andddd that led me to writing this lol
neil: so neil would have like absolutely zero time for a job between all his normal coursework/extracurriculars and his summer classes (”you know me, always taking on too much”), but i guarantee you he would still take the time to get a job and have his own money to do with whatever he chose. mr. perry wouldn’t care much because it showed neil “taking initiative” or whatever. neil would likely work at a diner as either a bus boy or a waiter. he’s super personable, so he’d always strike up conversations with people sitting at the counter, and he’d get loads of tips bc he’s cute (: he’d bring his summer school work with him to do during lulls in business, which his boss didn’t mind because it’s neil and everyone knows how responsible he is. the poets would come visit him pretty much every day (to eat, see neil, and escape the heat in the air conditioning), likely taking up a whole booth, and making an absolute mess of the area. charlie would be making spitballs, aiming at cameron and knox every time (earning a “charlie, knock it off, i told you three times already! so mature of you, really.” from cameron) and meeks/pitts would try to see how many straws they could connect to make “ultra straw.” todd would come hang out at the counter when neil was closing, admiring his pretty bf as he worked (’: neil would always make todd a chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and rainbow jimmies on the house, claiming, “we have to empty out the ice cream machine anyway” (but really he’d take the cost out of his paycheck, just wanting to make todd happy). his boss would hire him back every summer, loving how much business neil drove in (even if the poets made a mess every time they hung out and ate) and absolutely adoring how much effort neil put into what anyone else would seemingly call a “meaningless” job.
todd: you can’t tell me that todd wouldn’t look forward to working. especially during the summers, it would get him out of the house and away from his parents judging his every move. being the shy introvert he is, he’d likely do things like mowing lawns or gardening for people around his neighborhood. minimal interactions, but still decent pay (as all the people in his neighborhood were likely super rich and could afford to pay him well). the poets’ parents would hire him, after much convincing from their sons (”todd’s just trying to make some money, dad. please?”) and todd would appreciate this more than they ever knew. he’d become super familiar with flower types and he’d become a lot more nurturing after taking care of plants and grass for multiple summers. he’d keep a little journal or notebook with drawings or sketches of the flowers he’d taken care of, complete with descriptions and magazine/newspaper clippings from his mom’s better homes and garden subscription (a lot of his poetry would become nature-related as well). it would be his late night project, or something he’d do if he couldn't sleep (which was pretty common for todd). he’d call neil on the phone some nights and just gush about all kinds of flowers or tell neil how he accidentally got stung by a bee and cried about it because he knew the bee would die (all the while, neil would be listening so intently, taking note about which flowers were todd’s favorites for future use (’: the calls would have to be pretty planned, bc if neil wasn’t working, he was doing school work, or his parents were keeping an annoyingly close watch on him. but sometimes neil would call him impromptu and that made todd just the happiest little camper ever). todd’s nails would be really short (he’d cut them really often because he doesn’t like the feeling of dirt under his nails), which means he couldn’t bite his nails anymore, causing him to pick up a new anxious habit of biting the inside of his bottom lip ): overall, though, todd would like his job, and even find pleasure in being surrounded by little flowers all day. also if/when neil ever got the chance, he’d absolutely tag along to see his sweaty boyfriend in action (come on, neil would go absolutely nuts for todd in a cutoff shirt, 5″ inseam shorts, and converse mowing a lawn looking all manly and tough). 
charlie: obviously, charlie wouldn’t need to work because of his financial situation, but his mom would 110% make him get a job just so he wouldn’t be around the house causing trouble/bothering his siblings for fun (”i’m hosting a lot of book club meetings for the country club this summer, i can’t have you putting spiders in the ladies’ hats again, charles”). similar to neil, mr. charlie dalton would work his summers at an ice cream/custard stand. he’d have to wear a white, short sleeve button up, a red and white striped apron, and one of those white, rectangular hats (his least favorite part HAHA, stating, “my hair is one of my best features and this just takes it all away. it’s unfair.”). the poets would visit often, both for ice cream, but primarily to give him a hard time about his uniform (”i’ll give you twenty bucks to wear this on our first day of classes” meeks would tease, completely gobsmacked when charlie showed up to their first chemistry class in his uniform, earning lots of demerits, but also twenty dollars). charlie would hate it at first, but obviously he’d adjust, being the extroverted/personable person, not taking himself too seriously and being one of the best ice cream slingers anyone had ever seen. he’d give the cute girls (and boys) extra scoops of ice cream for free, winking as he handed them their orders. like neil’s boss, charlie’s boss was even more thankful for charlie’s presence because they’d likely be raking in at least triple the income they would in a summer without him. he’d become a sundae expert, spending many dead poets meeting making them for his friends while they read poems and stories. that being said, he’d come to hate eating ice cream, publishing an article in welton’s honor demanding that they remove ice cream from their dessert menu (yes, almost exactly like the “girls at welton” prank, but he’d make the call collect this time. mr. nolan would be fed up to the point where he wouldn’t even punish charlie physically, just suspend him from rowing [which charlie wouldn’t mind at all HAHA]).
meeks & pitts: after their hi-fi success and the fact that they are seemingly inseparable, they both sought out jobs at the local radio station where they were hired as interns/assistants, running errands and picking up coffee or lunch for the station. but sometimes, when they worked pretty late, the night shift dj would let them pick the records and show them how everything worked (: after nights like that, meeks and pitts would go to one of their houses and add modifications to their hi-fi radio, staying up all night modifying and researching (by the end of the summer, they had made another hi-fi (portable) and their og hi-fi would have been morphed into a huge nationally reaching radio that they keep in the cave (since it would be disallowed in their room at welton). another job that the two of them would have would be answering calls for the station about song requests. with this knowledge, charlie and the other poets would hang out at someone’s house, calling and requesting the same songs over and over and over again. their biggest task for the summer would be organizing the shelves with all the records into alphabetical order (”duh, we should go by first name, meeks. which other way would it be” pitts would argue, only to find out that after they had spent about three weeks alphabetizing by first name, they were supposed to go by last name. “now who’s the idiot?” meeks would jeer, beginning to pull the records off the shelves). they’d also learn a lot about music from their night shift coworker, which would help in their quest to woo some ladies the following school year.
cameron: cameron liked spending his summers doing research projects for fun and just reading a whole lot, so you can imagine his displeasure at when his parents asked him to get a job (presumably to help with paying for his schooling). while upset about it, he wouldn’t complain, and took it on the chin, understanding the reasoning. he’d apply to a couple places, but ultimately end up as a grocery store cashier/stock boy. much like charlie, he’d have the same kind of uniform, but with a green apron instead. he’d spend most of his shift ringing people up at the register, being friendly and personable (something no one ever really realized about him !!). the poets’ moms would always see him and choose his register on purpose, using it as a chance to catch up or tell him to tell his parents that “the overstreets say hello!” or “mrs. anderson says hi!” pitts, meeks, and charlie would utilize cameron’s position at the supermarket to buy nudie magazines unembarrassed/slightly illegally HAHA (”come on, cameron! it’s not like you won’t be included in seeing them next year, too. we bring them to the meetings, you know that!” charlie would say, leaving cameron at a loss, reluctantly scanning the magazines and bagging them as pitts and meeks sniggered). charlie would wave, blow him a kiss, and wink as they left, “love you, richardddd.” sure enough, the magazines would make an appearance during the following school year and cameron was glad he had decided to let them buy the magazines lol. 
knox: out of all the poets, i feel like our knoxious would be the least inclined to work (yes, even less inclined than charlie). his parents wouldn’t even make him get a job because he simply didn’t need to, but to everyone’s surprise, he would volunteer at the animal shelter. the poets would later find out that it was a great way to meet girls (which is why he did it lmfao so they endlessly goaded him about it). charlie would visit often, and even took a rescue puppy home, much to charlie’s younger sister’s delight. charlie even wanted to start volunteering at the shelter to also meet girls, but he was too busy at the ice cream stand (plus, he had really grown to like it there so he didn’t want to leave). another effect of volunteering made knox super interested in zoology and animals, which brought out a newer, more nurturing/caring side to him, and who knows, maybe he’d go vegetarian somehow. he’d want to pursue a career in animal science or becoming a veterinarian, but mr. overstreet was hellbent on knox taking over the firm, so it seemed like a pipe dream. knox would continue to volunteer at the animal shelter, well into his career as a lawyer, and would even go to veterinary school in his 30s (when he was a nationally famous, established lawyer) to get certification to work with animals in a broader way (: 
hope you guys liked these. it was pretty fun to write, and i'd pay such good money to see neil, charlie, and cameron in their uniforms (and todd, but that’s neither here nor there). happy thursday !! let me know what you guys think of these <3(:
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lesvegas · 3 years
Text
My Mod List for Fallout: New Vegas
Some months ago, I answered an ask regarding FNV mods I’d recommend. Over the past few months, I’ve tried many more mods since, and have even removed several mods from the original list. I decided to remake the list, both in this post and also in this doc for the sake of documentation.
These are both for my own reference and for anyone who’s looking for mod recommendations. Keep in mind my preferences for mods tend to be smaller-scale, quality of life and immersive mods, and I’m not super into big story mods.
This is a long one, so I’m putting it under a readmore.
You’re gonna wanna start with this mod configuration menu, which helps to manage mods in-game. 
Fixes & Script Extenders
Most of these are necessary for a stable game and for the rest of the mods listed here.
New Vegas Script Extender (NVSE) - You’ll need this for most of these to work at all.
Yukichigai Unofficial Patch (YUP) - A compilation of vital bug fixes with no further additions. Just bug fixes.
Unofficial Patch Plus - A collection of supplementary bug fixes to be used alongside YUP. Includes improved versions of popular NVSE bug fixes.
New Vegas Anti Crash (NVAC) - Says it right there in the name.
JIP LN NVSE Plugin - An extension of NVSE that restores broken features and supplies bug fixes; read through this one before toggling anything.
JohnnyGuitar NVSE - Another NVSE extender.
FNV 4GB Patch - Simple patcher to make Fallout New Vegas 4GB Aware.
Throwable Weapon Fixes - A collection of fixes for throwable weapons and projectiles.
Overhauls
New Vegas Character Expansions (NVCE) - Probably the only character overhaul that just makes everyone look a little less potato without making them look hollow inside. (NOTE: This may make some characters have white faces. If this happens, the fix that worked for me is at the bottom of this post)
Water Overhaul - Overhauls various aspects of water, making radiation-free water more scarce and allowing you to refill bottles anywhere with a water source.
Starting Gear Overhaul - Adjusts the gear you start with to be more sensible and catered to your tagged skills. Recommended using along with JSawyer Ultimate.
Mojave Raiders - Adds more raiders to fight and balances their loot.
Mojave Wildlife - Adds hundreds more levelled, vanilla-friendly creature spawn points throughout the whole Mojave, based off unused vanilla levelled lists.
Mojave Arsenal - Adds ammo variants, reloading parts, and weapon mods as loot; fixes item naming conventions; improves recipes; and adds options for configuring GRA.
The Living Desert - Adds hundreds of NPCs and several scripted events; people patrolling the roads, travelling between towns, occupying locations.
Faction Map Icon Overhaul - Changes faction-related icons on the Pip-Boy map, for example Camp McCarran and the Mojave Outpost’s icons are the two-headed bear, the Fort and Cottonwood Cove are the bull, etc.
Immersion
New Vegas Enhanced Camera - Enables visible body and player shadow in first person, will let you remain in first person when you would otherwise be forced into third person (death/knocked down/etc).
Barton Thorn Acts Normally - Barton Thorn seeks out the player himself to ask for help with the geckos.
Clarity - Removes orange/blue tints.
Harvestable Cave Fungus - Self-explanatory.
Better Pickup Prompt - Makes several improvements to the HUD pickup prompt that appears when you look at an item. (NOTE: This mod has been discontinued, but seems to still work).
Realistic Safehouse Upgrades - Gives every safehouse a workbench, reloading bench, camp fire and more containers to make them feel like home.
Eddie Hears And Explosion - Fixes one of the clunkier moments in the game, near the end of the Powder Ganger questline.
Neck Seam Concealer Necklaces - A wide variety of necklaces that perfectly conceal the seam connecting characters’ heads and torsos. 
Vanilla Hair, No Shine - Makes the default hairstyles have less obnoxious white shine.
Light Step ED-E - This mod gives ED-E the Light Step perk, preventing him from setting off mines and floor traps.
Hi-Res Vanilla Posters and Graffiti - Posters and graffiti have x2 upscaled resolution, with no ugly blurring or sharpening.
Mojave Nights - Mojave Nights combines my Enhanced Night Sky mod with a brand-new, highly detailed moon replacement for complete night-time realism.
Functional Post-Game Ending (FPGE) - Adds a fully functional post-game world to the game, where you will realise the consequences of your choices.
Just Vanilla Sprint (JVS) - A simple vanilla sprint mod. Requires JIP LN Plugin (scroll up to Fixes & Script Extenders).
Animated Maize Fields, Park Equipment, Poseidon Energy Signs (personal fave), Sunset Sarsaparilla Rotary Entrance, Rotating Brahmin Rotisserie, and Foliage. This mod maker has tons of immersive little animation mods; I recommend looking through all of them.
JSawyer Ultimate Edition
JSawyer Ultimate Edition - JSawyer's popular mod, fully re-implemented from the ground up. A ‘meant-to-be’ mod which changes elements of the game to how they should have been from the start.
JSawyer Ultimate Edition Patches - Patches for using several popular mods alongside JSawyer Ultimate Edition.
JSawyer Mod Vanilla Number Of Perks - Changes the final total number of perks acquired by level 34 from the JSawyer default of 17 to the vanilla default of 25.
Perk Every Level, Cap at 100 - JSawyer Ultimate Edition caps the player at level 35. Once I reached level 35, THEN I installed this mod, which was the only increased level cap mod that worked for me. It doesn’t add perks after that, though; I have to add perks manually.
Restored Cut Content
Uncut Wasteland - Restores a huge amount of scenery and little random things which were patched out of the game post-release.
The Moon Comes Over The Tower - Restores the rest of the quest given by Emily Ortal, which requires you to go H&H Tools Factory, Camp Golf, and North Vegas Steel.
Vanilla Intro Plus - Restores the bit of the intro where Victor pulls the courier out of their own grave.
Classic Fallout Floaters - Adds Floaters into New Vegas based on information and cut content found within the files. Can be found where Centaurs lurk.
The Strip Open - Removes the gates and excess loading screens within the Strip.
Legion Quests Expanded - Provides more Legion content by adding or expanding several Legion quests. Needs compatibility patches.
Karma and Reputation
Karma Changes - Changes the karma alignment of some NPCs, like making Caesar Very Evil instead of Neutral.
Lonesome Road True Faction Allegiance - The parameters for your allegiance has been altered to reflect on your quest status, rather than reputation. This is reflected in Ulysses’ dialogue and the courier duster.
Powder Ganger Rep Fix (Ghost Town Gunfight) - A quick and easy fix that removes the Goodsprings Powder Gangers from the PG Faction.
Negative Karma for Gravedigging - Gives the player bad karma every time they dig up a grave.
Quests
Autumn Leaves - A DLC-sized quest mod in a centuries-old library inhabited by sentient machines with a mystery to solve.
Boom to the Moon - A short but sweet quest investigating a moon base featuring some of the best interiors I’ve ever seen in a video game. Walkthrough required, though, and be sure to install the failsafes.
Snow Globe Quest - Adds quest markers to all the snow globes you find for Mr. House.
Benny
Benny Returns - Returns Benny to the game as a companion. Be sure to read through the mod description carefully before saving him from the Fort.
Bi Benny: The Re-Bennying - Edits Benny's Black Widow dialog to work with Confirmed Bachelor couriers, with altered working voiced + lip sync dialog. It’s a little rough but it works.
Save Benny Without Angering The Legion - This mod makes you able to save Benny at The Fort without angering the Legion or breaking their questline.
Less Serious Mods
Benny’s Aid - Funny Simpsons reference.
Mr. House Portrait Fix - Gives the portraits of Mr. House the Platinum Drip.
I Got Spurs - Adds a set of lucky spurs to Doc Mitchell's house that can be worn with any clothing. They can be found on top of the Vigor-Tester.
Legate Caravan Showdown - Allows you to duel Legate Lanius in a game of Caravan rather than combat.
NVCE Pale Face Fix
Literally copied from some forum, the usual .ini fix didn’t work for me but this one did:
Another .ini fix, but this time the file is FALLOUT.INI, found under "C:\Users<your Windows username>\Documents\My Games\FalloutNV". Open it up in your text editor of choice, and search for the line:
bLoadFaceGenHeadEGTFiles=0
and change the 0 to 1, so it looks like:
bLoadFaceGenHeadEGTFiles=1
In the page on the Nexus it actually says to change that value in both a Fallout.ini file AND a FalloutPrefs.ini file, both in the My Games\FalloutNV folder.
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ficrecsforklaine · 3 years
Note
Hiii! I’m brand new to the fandom and was wondering if the Glee fandom has one of those fics that literally everyone in the fandom knows about and has read? Preferably a Klaine fic bc I love them and want to consume as much of them as I can ahahah thanks!
(I only read Klaine fics so everything listed has them as the main focus)
considering the Klaine fandom has been around for about 10 years, there are a lot of fics to choose from. everyone has their own opinions of which fics are considered to be “fandom famous”, and not everyone likes everything listed. but here’s a list of a few popular titles that spring to mind right away. there are probably DOZENS more that I could list too. I’m going to invite my followers to add their favorites to the notes, so check those out for even more recs.
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Little Numbers by iknowitainteasy [S&C] [LJ] [PDF/ePub] (PG13)
AU: Blaine sends a text message to a wrong number by accident. Things progress from there.
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Sideways by CrissColferL0ve [FFN] (Mature)
Blaine is the most popular kid at school, he's also a bully. Kurt is the new kid and the victim of the football team, but bullying somebody doesn't necessarily mean you won't end up liking them, even if you try your best not to. 
SEQUEL: Anywhere but Here [FFN]
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Expectation Fails by lilinas [AO3] *SERIES*  (Explicit/NC17)
This was originally written as a fill for a Glee Kink Meme prompt. In a D/s AU where your soulmate's name appears on your wrist (left for dom, right for sub) during puberty, Kurt and Blaine are marked with each other's names. But Kurt, the dom, is a 16-year-old high school student and Blaine, the sub, is his 27-year-old history teacher.
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Go Your Own Way by zavocado [AO3] *SERIES* (Explicit/NC17)
Kurt Hummel just wants to get through his Junior Year at McKinley in one piece. But when the new guy from Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys takes an alarming interest in him, he's certain he's going to be in for a wild ride. Badboy!Blaine, Klaine, AU
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An Accidental Chance by SlayerKitty [S&C ] *SERIES* (R/Mature) [PDFs]
An accidental tweet. A chance phone call. Or what happens when famous TV star Blaine Anderson accidentally tweets his phone number.
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All The Other Ghosts by Rainjoy [LJ] [PDF/ePub] (NC17)
It's a big city for one more lost soul in a mask. superhero!fic
SEQUEL: Grey [LJ] [PDF/ePub] (NC17)
FOLLOW-UP ONE-SHOT: Gloves & Masks [LJ] ( R )
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Syrup and Honey by LauGS [FFN] (Mature)
AU!Klaine. Kurt Hummel is 25 years old when he finds himself being the owner of the bakery he had been dreaming about his whole life, just in time to sweeten up Blaine Anderson's days.
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Someone Like You by iconicklaine [AO3] *SERIES* (Mature)
Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of "When Harry Met Sally" for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is... they're both in committed relationships. Note: This story is AU after "Sexy" and assumes Kurt and Blaine graduate from Dalton in the same year. In this future fic, set in 2025, Blaine is based off of Season 2 Blaine.
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The Symphony Verse by shandyall [AO3] *SERIES* (Mature)
Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.
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Is It Weird? by a_simple_rainbow [AO3] *SERIES* (G - T)
Blaine sends his Topics in Contemporary Music mid-term essay to the wrong e-mail address, writing an extra m where it was supposed to read Humel. Kurt, spending a semester abroad in Paris, is having a challenging night of essay writing and procrastination, and goes a little bit beyond letting Blaine know he got the wrong person, sparking what will soon be described as a "weird pen-palish thing we got going on" that takes them both by surprise and leaves them hopeful and giddy. 
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Not Like the Movies by Knightlycat [AO3] *SERIES* (Mature)
When new Hollywood golden boy Kurt Hummel receives some disturbing letters, his manager hires bodyguard Blaine Anderson to be with him 24 hours a day. In an attempt to hide Blaine's true identity from the press they decide he needs to go undercover...as Kurt's boyfriend. Famous!Kurt Nevermet!AU 
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A Political Romance by YaDiva [FFN] [AO3] (Explicit/NC17)
Blaine is the son of a conservative politician. He's not allowed to have a boyfriend but he falls in love with Kurt however something about Blaine isn't quite right. Something dark and slightly twisted. Rated M for language, smut, gay sex and dark themes. 
SEQUEL: A Legal Romance [FFN] [AO3]
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Angel in a Red Vest by dontbefancy [AO3] *SERIES* (Explicit/NC17)
A case of two men, two lives, and two stories and how combining them can change everything. Yeah, it’s a basic love story with a firefighter!Blaine twist…and maybe a little more. 
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I’m going to stop here or this post will be a mile long. feel free to browse through the tags on this blog if you have a specific trope you are looking for. welcome to the fandom!!  and if anyone would like to add a fic rec to the notes please do so!
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silvia7272 · 3 years
Text
Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Prologue
Hey everyone, this is a new story I wanted to introduce to you all.
I’ve been putting everything in a massive word doc because I had so many ideas and finally settled on putting it out today because it's my birthday. 29th, I may have updated it late.
Yay.
So as a special treat, here’s a new series with a few original characters, ones you know or have been changed ever so slightly to fit, in a Miraculess world. (haha, you see what I did there? No… I’ll leave)
Also for anyone new, I’m a multi-shipper so I ship my characters with a bunch of other people, as I like Lukanette (Fandom Version), Daminette (Fandom Version), Felinette (PV Fandom Version), Marichat (Fandom Version) and I guess Rosannette. What’s Rosannette? Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you? (also no that’s not a typo, it is Rosannette)
Also, I guess this will just have the usual salt, maybe more, I don’t know. I kinda want it to just be about these two.
Word Count: 3912
Note: I haven’t tagged anyone just in case, this is a different series from my other, I just got really excited and wanted to write it. If you still wish to be tagged for this story please say and specify.
Also: This is a salt story, it will have OOC moments from everyone so it will be classed as an AU. If you don’t want to read that’s fine, and have a nice day.
Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.
This is for all the people that might prefer Rosinette (like from the songfic) instead, I don’t mind but it won’t be in my main series, so I hope this will satisfy you.
(Word of warning, I believe this will be an AU where the Miraculous don’t exist, and non-canon to my official story and I believe mentions of a panic attack might be lightly mentioned, don’t know if it is, but if someone could check and I’ll make the warning clearer that would be nice)
Summary: 
(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)
Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.
In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?
Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...
But, of course, this wasn't normal. 
This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.
So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...
How long does it take for her to regret it?
***
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Memories, it's such a simple word yet it holds so much meaning. One could either wish to forget everything from their life, and simply move forward so they could pursue their dreams. Or, simply relish in the past when they remembered how great it was, all the friends they had made, all the moments they had which were too good to let go.
.
But, I guess sometimes, you did have to let go. But let go of what exactly? Let go of all the happiness once you knew how it would end? No that would be too harsh and you’d turn bitter. Let go of all the sadness? But, wasn’t it an important life lesson to learn, sometimes, you just have to be sad because of the situation at hand. No amount of croissants or macarons would be able to lift your spirits back.
.
Or maybe that was too much of a specific example.
That was what Marinette had thought, staring at an empty glass so intently the man behind made himself disperse from the amount of time the unblinking woman just stared and never flinched.
She guessed it hadn’t all been bad, she at least had some form of happiness before it was violently ripped away, but part of her wondered, what would’ve happened if she never felt that type of happiness before? Would she have felt like she had for so long, was it the fact that she knew what being happy was like before worse? Because, as depressing as it sounded, if she hadn’t been as happy, would she have been as upset?
She would never know, she couldn’t go back in time since that was impossible, but the thought always came and went whenever she was alone with her thoughts.
So… Maybe it was for the best, that she was able to remember what real happiness felt like.
The tight feeling in your chest, butterflies in your stomach, face being so red anyone would worry if the bluenette had caught a cold instead-
Wait- this was an oddly specific kind of happiness she felt, surely she must’ve gotten mixed up with some other felling right?
Right!?
So, how come she was feeling this- incredibly bright heat from her cheeks when she felt a hand on her shoulder?
We may need to go back several years.
***
In a classroom in Collège Françoise Dupont, a young pigtailed girl sat at the back, tears silently falling onto her knees and bawled up fists. She didn’t see any use of wiping them away, since they would just come back anyway, and it would be useless to just repeat that endless cycle. She hadn’t looked around to see anyone else’s faces, they would either just ignore her, or taunt her for just crying, for just being human.
Now you may be wondering why she was so upset? What possibly could’ve happened to make our very cheerful and sunshiny girl become so hunched over she was practically crying her eyes out? Well, the answer lies on the one girl at the front. The one girl sitting in an all too familiar place. The one girl who just ruined all of her newfound friendships.
Lila Rossi.
And boy had she hated that name.
She couldn’t stand that smirk, that thief, that scandal!
And what exactly did she do?
.
She lied.
Now you may be thinking that may not have been all that bad, but it was.
Every time she opened her mouth, everyone would fawn around her, even Alix, the one who seriously couldn’t care about anything to do with glamourous celebrities, was hanging on the edge of her seat to hear one of Lila’s so-called stories. She just had to guess Lila held up a treat over her head to keep her being obedient enough.
She hated Lila so much because she was just using everyone to get an easy life at school, the fastest way towards popularity she guessed, but why she thought this was the fastest way was beyond her.
She hated Lila because she had spread so many lies, so many rumours, all about her. All so out of the realm it was such a surprise they all believed her without a shred of evidence.
It had happened so fast, one day, they were all friends, smiling and laughing like there was no tomorrow, the next, she was surrounded by those faces, those faces of disgust and hatred. As if she had committed even the worst of crimes, more so than Chloé, speaking of, who was absolutely enjoying this show.
But undoubtedly. What she hated about Lila the most.
.
Was that technically, she didn’t have to do that much.
After so many sessions of crying, and just not believing that they could possibly leave her, a friend, like that, she started to reason with herself, that maybe it wasn’t just Lila that pushed them all away.
She thought back to before.
Before they were friends, before Alya even came to Collège, she had been alone. Chloé had always gone out of her way to relentlessly bully her, and no one wanted to be friends with her with Chloé around. So she accepted it, just hoping one day, karma would seek justice and she’d be put in her place.
So she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And-
Gave up.
She accepted defeat after all the years. After the meaningless conversations with teachers that she should try and be the bigger person and rise above all of her hatred for her. Simply because they couldn’t do anything. They had no power over the mayor's Daughter. So they just let her continue her reign over the school.
She didn’t have any powers to stop her.
.
But then, a light of hope came.
The new girl, with ombre brown and red hair, glasses and hazel eyes. A striped t-shirt and an undeniable Aura that reeked of confidence.
As Marinette was being targeted by Chloé yet again, she came in, and for once, stood up to her. Chloé! No fear in her eyes as she, Alya, grabbed her, Marinette’s, hand and walked off to the desk at the front.
She couldn’t believe it, someone stood up to Chloé! She thought it had only been a myth, a legend, but that right there, it was real.
They became friends faster than the speed of sound.
And soon, she too was able to stand up for herself. Reclaiming her original seat back, and citing a quote her new friend had said… Then everyone had wanted to become friends… And, she felt ecstatic.
Finally. It finally came. The day she had prayed for had come. She felt nothing but pure joy.
And she didn’t want that feeling to go away.
She was terrified that the feeling would go away.
So, she thought of making sure that feeling wouldn’t go away.
That’s why she made so many ‘spare’ macaroons to give away, she didn’t spend her free nights staying up and making them, no way.
That’s why she provided so many free gifts to her friends. What? Her hand has a plaster, no she just tripped and hit herself, it had nothing to do with the gifts. Don’t worry, try your gloves on, do they fit?
That’s why she was late for class. Huh, no I’m fine, I’m not tired… But I might just rest my eyes for a bit, wake me up when something important happens.
That’s why she was so happy to realise Adrien wasn’t as bad as Chloé, the small gentle soul that he had, to graciously provide her with his own umbrella, how selfless.
And that’s why she held onto the idea of Adrien so much. The idea that he was perfect. The idea that she was in love with him.
So, she held onto it.
No, she clung to that idea because she didn’t want any chance to let go. So, she may have gone a bit overboard, with the whole, schedule thing, and the phone… And the schemes. But she believed it was harmless. No one else seemed to have any problems with it, so she believed she was in the clear.
Until she wasn’t.
And Lila used that to her advantage.
She remembered that day so vividly, just like all those other memories. The day she came. The day she would find herself in the same predicament from before, it hadn’t been that long since she had been friends with everyone in fact. She was still getting used to it, and her feelings grew as each day passed by.
She remembered when Lila introduced herself to the whole class, and at first glance, anyone would just think she was an innocent little girl. But behind that smile, behind those eyes, held a sinister intention.
She, in less than an hour, had everyone wrapped around her little finger.
Even her.
She’d been on a private jet?
Had a song written about her?
And saved Jagged Stone’s cat?
There was no way Adrien would fall for her now.
…So maybe she had been jealous of that girl before she had done anything. But she had every reason to. She, Lila, was pressed against Adrien who was happily talking to her. The love of her life! She had to do something, even if Alya had given her a disappointed look she just had to stop them from confessing their love to each other, it was inevitable now, so she followed after them to the park. If they even got too close, she was sure she could just conveniently interrupt, she just had to wait for the perfect moment, she only had a couple of hours before they would fall in love, get married, have three kids and a hamster named-
“Wow Adrien, you’re so nice to me. Y’know I really thought moving here would be just like all the other times. But you’ve really made me enjoy my first day Adrien.” She smiled so sickly sweet Marinette wanted to hurl, how dare she just hold onto his arm like that, so affectionately!
“Its no problem Lila, that’s what friends are for.” She smiled, hugging him so fast they almost lost their balance from sitting on the bench, before seemingly giving him a quick peck on his cheek, only for Adrien to turn his head towards her.
And they kissed.
However, it wasn’t a simple quick kiss, by all means, Adrien should’ve realised his mistake and pulled away.
But he didn’t, what felt like forever lasted a minute. One minute to realise that it should’ve been an accident. But they stayed like that.
It- it was over, wasn’t it? This wasn’t her being melodramatic, she just knew how it would turn out. They were going to fall in love so soon, she wouldn’t have a chance.
If only she had seen the look Lila gave, spotting her retreated form from behind a small trash can, the smirk would’ve given her shivers.
***
Getting back to Collège had taken longer than expected. Maybe it was the small amount of dread knowing she may have lost her love for good. Sure, there might have been Kagami as well, she had tried to sabotage her chances with Adrien too, but it always worked out in the end, Adrien always smiling as Kagami’s cheeks burned with redness. But to say they were friends afterwards.
Marinette would cringe at the fact she always felt so relieved afterwards reflecting years later at her choices. But she had always believed she would still have a chance.
Until today.
Lila came, and took him away, within hours.
And she couldn’t stop it.
Walking along the stairs to her class she had to keep her head held high, if she showed weakness, that would mean she was sad, she wasn’t sad, she couldn’t be sad. She still had all of her friends after all.
Maybe now, they could do more activities, after crying and eating a ton of ice cream of course with cheesy movies to brighten her mood up.
But, this would only be the beginning of that negative feeling.
Opening the door, she would be fully aware of something terribly wrong. At the front of the classroom, a crowd had formed, and a crowd that would soon become a routine in this classroom.
But a crowd formed around a girl, the new girl, Lila. She had seemed to be covering her eyes, water dripping down her eyes, no wait they were tears. What had happened?
She didn’t realise she had spoken those few words before heads turned around, looking- no glaring at her, why were they-? What had she done?
“Marinette I knew you could be a tad jealous but to actually do something like that” Huh? Oh no, Lila must’ve noticed she followed them, how embarrassing, and definitely not the best first impression she could’ve made.
Before she could apologise, before she could explain she really didn’t mean any harm. She didn’t have time to.
“To threaten her to never talk to Adrien again because she likes him. Well, I never thought you’d put your jealousy out like this.”
What!?-
No- she didn’t- she, just saw them kiss.
She didn’t even speak with her.
Why would she say this?
Why didn’t she say anything?
Why wasn’t she defending herself?
Why was she letting them believe that so easily?
Why
Why
Why.
.
Why was it so hard to breathe?
Running out of the classroom was easier than looking at all of those faces. Those accusatory faces. She hated it, she couldn’t do- defend- explain.
She- just-
She-
She-
She-
She was in a room?
The bathroom.
It didn’t matter why, as long as she was alone, she could cry to her heart's content.
The fear seeped over her just like that first time, knowing Chloé had won and would never stop, she had lost and lost everything.
Everything she had worked so hard to obtain.
Everything she had worked so hard to keep.
To make sure she didn’t have to let go.
And now it had gone.
Because it was then Marinette realised. That girl, those tears hadn’t been real, there she saw her eyes hadn’t been red or puffy, the tears’ dried up rather quickly, and the inconsistent wails made it very likely she was only doing them for effect and sympathy.
That girl. Was lying!
That must’ve been it.
No way could she be telling the truth. And no way could ‘I saw her around me and Adrien’ be translated to ‘she threatened me, I’m so scared of her’
Maybe, maybe with that, there was hope.
If she could just simply convince her friends that she was lying, then everything would be all sorted.
And maybe she and Adrien-
Wait, she was getting a little ahead of herself there.
Wiping her tears away she proudly opened the door, ready to face her fears.
Too bad her fears were much much stronger.
No matter how many times she would try to prove her innocence, it became worse.
When she tried going to the teachers, they bat an eye with her responses. Obviously not taking her seriously, and just believing it to be some teenage drama, she was pushed out of the classroom and told to try and just be nicer and make friends with her.
That was harsh but expected.
She tried talking with Alya, she turned away from her. Not wanting to hear anything come out of a crazy stalkers mouth.
That had hurt.
She tried talking with any of her other friends, y’know, the ones who ‘always’ had her back.
They too turned from her. Believing Lila without a doubt, I mean, they knew how jealous Marinette could get, it wasn’t that much of a stretch to think she would jump to that, considering the situation.
That felt like a punch to her gut.
She tried talking with Adrien, even if she did stutter and always lose her words around him. But this was more important, than a silly crush.
.
She wasn’t used to saying that.
But, the way he looked at her, it felt like- pity.
He told her he already knew.
He already knew? Wait- then why didn’t he say anything?
Because, as the naïve little boy stood so tall and ‘innocent’ he simply wanted to help her through his own way.
“She was only lying for attention,” He said.
“Once she finally makes some real friends, she’ll stop,” He said!
“In the meantime, you should really drop this, it would be just awful if you were to hurt Lila again. After all, she hasn’t hurt anyone, she doesn’t mean any harm”
.
.
She stood in shock.
This was the boy she had fell for?
This spineless- foolish- Son of a-
“So please Marinette, don’t cause too many problems for her, you shouldn’t be so harsh on her. If you really value our friendship, you’ll do it.” He smiled before walking off, leaving her to her thoughts.
That felt like someone had walked over to her, ripped out her heart and squashed it in the palm of her hands, all while grinning.
Why, why wasn’t she able to see before? Did her heart want to deceive her by falsifying all of his qualities? Was she just blind to bear witness to him not being as perfect as she made him out to be? Was it because she just couldn’t entertain the thought of letting go?
She didn’t know, she just hated this negative feeling. It felt so familiar. She wanted it to go away.
Unfortunately, that feeling would only grow for months.
And it was about to be worse.
“Huh? Marinette? Why are you crying? If this is about what happened this morning, don’t worry, I’ll forgive you” She was crying? Huh, when did that happen?
Whatever, more importantly.
“W-What, no you don’t have to forgive me because I did nothing wrong” Lila’s worried expression faltered for a bit before she grew ‘scared’
“H-Hey, I didn’t realise you felt like that. Oh, you poor thing” Her eyebrow snapped, she seriously didn’t like being called a thing.
“Save it, I can’t prove it but I know you’re just lying to everyone here. And you need to stop, you’re going to hurt everyone when they find out. You need to confess” Her face faltered again, but it never recovered, her once innocent eyes hardened as she smirked, a look that seemed almost natural, as if she had perfected it by looking into a mirror countless times.
“Oh, so you’ve finally figured it out? Figures, I was told you were the smartest one, and it seems like I wasn’t wrong”
“What?” Lila sighed, maybe she had put too much faith in her being the smartest.
“Ugh, you’re so young Marinette. I haven’t told the truth all my life, why the hell should I start now?” Marinette was stunned, why, why was she telling her this?
“Honestly, and I thought Adrien was naïve. Look, I’m not here to play games, I have this whole routine wrapped up. So just sit back, stay out of my way and I might consider making another lie that would benefit you.” It was an offer any reasonable person wouldn’t refuse.
Unfortunately for her, she didn’t want a reasonable offer.
Marinette stared, she was- she was fully aware of what she was doing?
“B-But you’re going to end up hurting everyone, you need to stop, please!” She begged.
Lila frowned.
She was just like all the rest.
“I don’t care”
Huh?
“I said I don’t care, seriously don’t you get it yet? I’m here to win by all means necessary. You were in the way so I took you out. They are just little trophies to remind you of my victory. You had your chance”
She stood still, this situation felt so familiar, but she had to stay strong, she couldn’t give up now. If reasoning with her won’t work, then maybe understanding might, and she could work with that.
“Why are you doing this, do you really not care about when you get caught? About how everyone will feel when they know you promised nothing in the end?” She hoped she would see some sense. They were good people, they shouldn’t be manipulated into this, she was sure they would’ve been friends regardless of what she had promised.
“It’s because I can”
.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean, dear sweet Marinette, is that because I am able to, I can. I’ve had years of practice with this, and the result always has me at the top, all that oppose me either stay at the bottom or beg for mercy from moi. It's always a delight to see their hope diminish. To realise they would do anything but to be alone.”
Alone- that word, that word stuck with her so much.
She didn’t want that- but she didn’t want her friends to be tricked either.
“Besides, you made it so easy for me, in reality. You only have yourself to blame”
“What- I didn’t even-” A finger was wagged in front of her face.
“Ah ah ah. You really should know better than that. A calendar full of Adrien’s schedule? A box full of presents for Adrien? Sabotaging dates? You’d think I’d have made it all up, it only made the end result so much greater. Seriously Marinette, I don’t even know if I’m the bad guy here, what you’ve done really isn’t appropriate behaviour. But I do know of a great therapist, they helped me through such a hard time” Lila continued to talk as Marinette zoned out. She was the bad guy? No- no that couldn’t be, that was just a harmless crush, that was just what normal teenaged girls did.
But- if it was. Then why didn’t anyone tell her it was wrong, she didn’t mean for it to be wrong. She just didn’t want them to leave, she just didn’t want to be abandoned again.
Why didn’t they say? Why didn’t she realise?
Why did she know?
Lila must’ve seen the shock as she giggled, not at all innocent.
“It was so easy manipulating all of them into telling me about this ‘crush’, once they realised just how crazy it actually was, they had no problem seeing you for the crazy stalker you are.” Lila flicked her hair up away, only for it to come back, but it didn’t matter, she made her point.
Not having the energy to look up, she would’ve noticed Lila had left her behind, laughing too, because no one had been there to overhear their absolutely private conversation. Her overall plan would not be undiscovered today, tomorrow, or the next. It wouldn’t be discovered ever.
Because she was in control.
Marinette, wasn’t in control.
Just like before, that hollow feeling from before, it was back.
And so much worse.
.
She hated Lila, because she made her realise, she was right. All along. And she just had to accept it.
And gave up trying.
She reverted back to how she was at the beginning of the year.
The quiet girl that no one paid attention to, alone, in the back, with nothing but her sketchbook.
Gone were the childish pigtails, it was for the better, no one said anything about then anymore.
Because she realised.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
She couldn’t be, not after this.
***
Hey, so I guess this was more like another prologue, so I’ll have to apologise if it seems just like the other one, but the premise is still the same so yeah.
And I think I might like the idea of a non-Miraculous world; it seems interesting since I feel like Marinette wouldn’t have as much of a confidence boost since she wouldn’t be Ladybug, please tell me that would make sense.
I think it’s interesting for how much would change and stay the same, and my OC will be making an entrance next time, however, here they are all like 13-14. The next chapter will have a time skip of 3 years, oh and Lila came in late, like around Season 3 late ok? So they already know about Kagami and Luka.
Also if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.
Cya next time.
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Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker.
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scullydubois · 3 years
Text
Only the Light Ch. 18
18/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 5k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3
Scully, Mulder, and Missy travel to California to meet Emily and wrestle with the future.
------------------
The echo of Scully’s heels against the linoleum is almost enough to drown out her racing heart. Mulder’s thumping steps and her sister’s daintier ones help too, but their collective power does nothing to ease Scully’s awareness that the Earth circles the sun at a thousand miles per hour. Today, she’s feeling every bit of it. 
The three of them round a corner, and a broad-shouldered man and tiny-waisted woman come into view. Agent Feniston and the lawyer, this must be. Outside of conference room C--as planned. 
Straightening every disc in her spine, Scully extends a hand and exchanges a firm shake with each of them. Mulder and Melissa hang back. 
“Dana Scully,” she declares. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“That decision rested with the foster parents,” the male agent insists. “As does any from this point forward.”
“Yes, and I’ll be sure to thank them as well,” Scully acquiesces.
“Hello, Ms. Scully.” The lawyer uncrosses her ankles. “I’m Tanya Joyce, you can call me Tanya. As a representative of the state of California, my priority is guarding the child’s wellbeing and ensuring that any choice made is what’s best for her.”
“Of course,” Scully murmurs. “Thank you for being here.”
Tanya thumbs toward the closed door of the conference room. “Brian and Cecily are eager to meet you. The foster system has extremely limited information on little Emily. Your testimony will help us all fill in some blanks.”
Scully nods. “Me as well...this is as much a surprise for me as all of you.”
“Are we to understand that you were not aware you bore a child, Ms. Scully?” Agent Feniston asks. 
“Yes, sir. I know it’s quite hard to believe, I feel the same. I was missing for a period of time last year and was comatose when I returned.”
“Yes, and how long was that period of time, Ms. Scully?”
The edges of her lips fall. “Approximately five weeks.”
“So is it safe to assume that though the child shares your DNA, you did not carry her?”
“No sir, not that I know of. I believe that my eggs were harvested, and she was...well, she comes from one of those.”
The agent hums a note of acknowledgement. “As I told you over the phone, the federal database contained no viable DNA match of a father.”
Scully nods. “Yes sir, and I have no knowledge of what sperm may have been used.”
“Noted.” He rubs his neck. “We were lucky, we only found you because you were in the missing persons database.”
“I had no idea I was still listed there,” Scully says. “I’ve asked the FBI to remove it.”
“Well, it was a stroke of luck for us,” the agent tells her. “This little girl’s foster parents encouraged the state to pursue child abandonment charges against whoever left her. She was found outside a local care center at two weeks old, as I’ve told you.”
“Yes.” Scully purses her lips. She imagines a baby with her eyes, nose, toes, chromosomes crying on a nondescript doorstep...she and Mulder did not know what they were doing when they said they wanted the truth. 
“We’ve already confirmed your story with the FBI,” Feniston continues, “and we have proof that you were working on cases in the east at the time of Emily’s delivery to the foster center, so you are free of any child abandonment charges.”
“Wonderful,” Scully replies, but really, those were the least of her concerns. “May I see my daughter now?” 
That’s the first time she’s ever said that sentence, and she didn’t expect terror to shoot up her spine. Is this what it is, having an extension of your life outside your body?
The lawyer steps forward. “I’ll introduce you to Brian and Cecily, they’d like to speak with you first.”
Scully does not like the way that sits in the air. Still, she musters a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”
---------------------------
Mulder and Melissa make themselves at home on a pair of leather chairs outside the conference room. They have been the pall-bearers keeping Scully aloft as her crushed dreams reinvent themselves as high hopes. They don’t understand how it happened any more than Scully herself: one phone call turned into multiple consultations with Agent Feniston, then Tanya and California Social Services and finally, DC social workers who performed background checks and prepared forms so that Scully could come here today to meet her baby and, God-willing, bring her home.
It doesn’t happen this fast, it never does--different voices said these same words to them a dozen times. And yet, barely two weeks after Agent Feniston’s fated voicemail, here they are. On All Hallow’s Eve, no less. Just in time for Emily to complete her first rotation around the sun.
They both play contrasting yet crucial roles in Operation Miracle Baby, as Mulder dubbed it. Dana has sobbed into Missy’s shoulder every night for the past two weeks; happy tears (her baby! she has a baby!), sad tears (she has a baby…and she didn’t even know...), scared tears (a baby! a baby, Missy! probably already walking, and maybe even talking if she’s exceptional...). The situation--and its implications--are impossible to reconcile in such a short time, if at all. Scully’s petite frame could not physically contain it. 
Mulder’s the comic relief, the distraction, the reminder that nothing can be so grave if there's still breath left in your body. He bought a CD of nursery rhymes and stuck in it his beat-up office radio, playing it through the day while Scully labored over this form or that and he pretended to alphabetize the case file drawer. Now, he hums himself to sleep every night with one of those rhymes; he’s hoping this new skill will come in handy. 
He would’ve bought toys and baby clothes too, but Melissa made him swear not to in case the adoption falls through. And she’s right, he can’t bear to imagine the pain Scully would feel packing those away. For sale: baby shoes, never worn hits you no matter who you are. Still, he has a stuffed UFO and a Build-a-Bear fox (yes, he went in and filled it himself) hidden in his closet, and he hopes they won’t go to waste. 
Operation Miracle Baby has been as covert as anything Mulder’s ever been involved in. He, Melissa, and Mrs. Scully are the only ones in his partner’s circle with any knowledge of what’s going on. No one else, in Scully’s words, matters. Trinity too has received a full briefing from Missy and is ecstatic about her girlfriend potentially becoming an auntie. Skinner was told it was a family emergency--and well, it is--though surely he’s suspicious about both of his agents requesting time off. Bill Jr. has no idea they’re in San Diego, though they may seek “refuge” (the air quotes are Missy’s) at his place if the proceedings drag on. 
This is a triumph or failure to be shared only with those most beloved, that’s what Scully said to them the night before they boarded the plane. Mulder has never been included in anyone’s most beloved before. It feels pretty damn good.
----------------------
The perky lawyer raps on the conference room door, opening it in response to a voice on the other side. Scully’s breath catches….a strawberry-haired infant rests in her mother’s arms (Scully hates to think it, but surely this woman is more Emily’s mother than she is), pulling at a lock of the woman’s blonde hair. 
The woman turns her way, and Scully gets her first glimpse at Emily’s face. Emily. Her baby. She wondered the whole flight here whether she would feel a connection….a sense of recognition...upon laying eyes on her daughter. And my god, it’s like some chained section of her heart has burst open, flooded with all the good feelings of the world. Icy blue eyes and cherub cheeks...that’s her baby. That’s her baby.
She watches as her baby is passed to a woman in a CA Social Services button-up who slides past Scully in the doorway like she’s not even there. Scully has a split-second to notice the dimples on her daughter’s cheeks, but that’s it. Emily’s gaze misses her entirely. 
Tanya strides toward the couple in the room, Scully following behind. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Lace, this is Dana Scully, Emily’s biological mother.”
“We’re so glad to meet you,” the man says, shaking Scully’s hand with a firm grip. “I’m Brian, and this is my wife Cecily.”
“Thank you for speaking with me,” Scully tells them, shaking Cecily’s hand in kind. “I understand you’ve cared for Emily since shortly after she arrived at social services.”
“Yes,” Cecily confirms. “She came to us when she was a month old. Raising her has been an absolute joy.”
Brian nods. “She’s the second infant we’ve fostered. We adopted our first one, Andrew, when he was a year and a half.” 
“I didn’t realize you had another child,” Scully converses, feeling out of her depth. “It must have been quite a transition, taking Emily in.”
“It sure was, but she’s an angel, truly,” Brian says. “We couldn't fathom that someone could abandon her and get away with it, that’s why we contacted Agent Feniston.”
Cecily chimes in--”We were told the chances of finding a DNA match in the federal database was slim. We didn’t expect to learn that you were unaware of Emily’s existence!”
“Yes, I’m still coming to terms with it all,” Scully replies. “I’m grateful that you’ve given me the opportunity to see her, at the very least.”
“When we heard your story, we knew it would be heinous of us to say no,” Cecily says, offering a sympathetic smile. 
“You’re an FBI agent, did we hear that right?” Brain asks.
“Yes sir, I’ve been with the Bureau five years now.”
“You live in DC?”
Scully nods. “Around the corner from the National Mall.”
“That’s exciting!” Cecily pipes up. “How did you find yourself having Emily in San Diego?”
“I actually have no idea, Mrs. Lace,” Scully murmurs. “My family lived here when I was young, but I haven’t been back since. Coincidentally, my brother lives not too far off.”
“Wow,” Cecily gasps. “They weren’t kidding about you being a missing person.”
“No ma’am.” She went from a missing person to missing a person. No wonder she’s spent the past year feeling so empty. 
-----------------------------
Mulder and Melissa get only the slightest moment to catch their breath before a child that is unmistakably the progeny of Dana Scully is carried into the lobby. Her hair curls around her ears in a cute mushroom top, her tongue dancing in her mouth like it has a mind of its own. They stare; they know better, but fuck it, if any baby is worth staring at, it’s this one. 
“Is that--?” Mulder whispers.
“Yeah,” Missy breathes. 
They’ve both seen the pictures, they are well aware that it’s her. They say these things for the awe of it. 
“She’s…” Mulder’s eyes are wide. “She’s bigger than I thought she would be. Not fat, I mean. Just...a whole tiny human.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Melissa smiles at her niece, who is now seated on her caretaker’s lap across the hallway. Emily’s big eyes blink at her, containing silent judgements. How like her mother she is.
Missy elbows Mulder. “I bet she orders mushroom pizza and then picks the mushrooms off because apparently ‘the cheese tastes better than on the regular cheese pizza,’” she muses, naming one of her sister’s quirks. 
Mulder likes this game. “I bet she vehemently denies the existence of extraterrestrials only to secretly believe that her dashing partner is right,” he offers.
Missy smirks. “I bet she would find this game very stupid if she understood it.”
“I’m all in on that one.” Mulder mimes pushing a pile of poker chips into the center of a table. 
Missy laughs, looks toward her seat partner with soft eyes. “She’s gonna be a great mom, isn’t she? Dana, I mean?”
“Oh yeah.” Mulder clasps his hands in his lap. “We should be so lucky to have a little Scully in the world.”
“Mm-hm.” Missy focuses on his face, watching for the slightest move that might give his thoughts away. “And she’ll be able to do it alone, do you think?”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll need some help from Mrs. Scully, and you, and…” he trails off before adding his own name, but Missy’s mind fills it in reflexively. “She’ll need help,” Mulder finishes, “but yeah, she’ll be incredible.”
The details have already been parsed out. As a single mother, Scully is required to list a guardian who would take custody of Emily if something were to happen to her. She listed her mother as the primary one--the social worker told her it’s best if it’s someone who has child-rearing experience--and Missy as the secondary guardian. She would, after all, already live in the child’s household. 
Then there was the matter of the job--its extensive time requirements, travelling, and danger level were all of concern to the agency. This came as no surprise to Scully; a single female FBI agent does not make the ideal adoption candidate. And though she hasn’t yet spoken to the Bureau, Mulder has promised her they’ll work something out. It can be like your leave of absence, he assured her. You tackle the paper trail and I’ll focus on following the suspect’s trail. Easy-peasy.
That’s what he says to her, though he’s terrified of losing her as his partner...Of her being reassigned to something simpler or leaving the Bureau entirely. She could teach at Quantico, that schedule would be a hell of a lot easier than running on Mulder time. Agent Scully can pack for hastily-booked flights at midnight then catch them at 7am, but Emily’s mother couldn’t. He will have to reckon with this if all the pieces fall into their graceful place. He’ll have to figure out how to rearrange their partnership for her, or even worse, how to live without her as his partner. Or maybe even at all. 
---------------------------
Scully glances at her shoes, then summons the courage to meet Mrs. Lace’s hazel eyes. “I hope you will consider my request. I know it’s not up to you entirely--the court will have the final say--but my abduction experience has left me unable to have a biological child, so learning of Emily was truly a miracle of the highest order.” 
Her voice clips as she takes a breath. “I understand that it would be a huge sacrifice on the part of your family, and that you’ve developed a bond with Emily over the past eleven months. I just ask you both to please...think about it.” Tears twinkle in her eyes. She made it, thank god, she made it without breaking down! She’s rehearsed that speech ten times over.
Cecily lays a hand on her husband’s arm. “Of course, Dana. It would be a painful sacrifice to us, you’re correct, but we understand that you’ve flown across the country to be here, and that you’ve brought witnesses to testify to your character, so your commitment is clear. We’ll listen and make as compassionate a decision as possible.”
Scully’s lips creep into a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She steps back, the weight of imminent sobs settling over her chest. 
“Ms. Scully has already undergone most of the requirements needed for adoption,” the lawyer tells Mr. and Mrs. Lace. “Medical clearance, psychiatric clearance, criminal background check, and home study. In the spirit of her unique circumstances, California and the District of Columbia have agreed to cooperate to make the process as smooth and expedient as possible, if you should choose to surrender Emily to her. I don’t mean to sway your decision in any way, just to give you all the available information.” 
The couple nods. “Thank you, Tanya,” Cecily answers. “We’d like to speak with the first witness now.”
Scully balks. She expected more questions, a barrage of them, as intense and prying as if she were testifying in front of Congress. And she was ready for that--she was prepared to do whatever they asked of her, to show that there are no lengths she wouldn’t go for Emily. She’s already documented every detail of her life for social services and given over the necessary specimens to prove that no, she’s not a drug user, and yes, her thyroid is hyperactive, but she takes medication for that and her doctor will confirm that it’s under control. 
And if they wanted to know more, she’d tell them. She’d tell it all. Her deepest, darkest secret (telling Daniel that yes, he should leave his wife & kids...all for her, to be with her), the most petty thing that haunts her (stolen cigarettes, smoked on the family porch at 1am), what she wants to say most but can’t (I love you)...a part of her was taken to create Emily. She would give the rest away to keep her.
There was a moment, in one of the drab little interrogation rooms at DC social services, where Scully was met with a question that lunged toward her like a time-bomb. Pull the fuse, pull the fuse it taunted her. See what happens. Instead, she played it off. Pretended she didn’t hear its doomed tick. Feigned none the wiser. No, she isn’t aware of any potential medical condition that would inhibit her life expectancy or ability to care for a child, she told the nice woman. Thank god they got the chip out of her neck before it showed up on any x-rays. 
She snaps back to reality, watching as the conference door opens, and her sister enters the room. 
“Thank you, Dana,” Tanya says, and she assumes that’s the lawyer’s way of telling her to get out, so she does. Outside the room, she settles next to Mulder in a seat that’s still warm.
“How’d it go in there, champ?” he chatters. “You need some water or anything?”
Scully’s not listening. Her eyes are trained on the baby girl across the way with hair too auburn to be brunette that’ll require a smattering of box dye every two weeks to qualify her as a soulless ginger. 
Emily’s eyes land on the woman she does not know is her mother, studying this new face with an infant’s usual curiosity. Mulder has realized by now that the little girl is of much more interest to his partner than he is, and he watches as mother and daughter wave to each other.
Scully lets out a laugh so strangled that for a moment Mulder thinks it’s a cry and jumps to comfort her. He relaxes back into his seat once he sees the joy on her face.
“She’s a sweetheart, huh?” Mulder wisecracks as the young girl jams her fingers into her mouth.
Scully beams. “She’s a baby, that’s her way of learning the world!”
“Hey, I’m not knocking it. That’s my personal preference as well,” he says with a lop-sided smile. 
“Yeah, well, she’s not licking evidence,” Scully quips. 
Mulder shrugs. “A man can’t help his oral fixation. Haven’t you ever heard of Freud…?” he lets it slide off his tongue. 
Scully rolls her eyes. His inability to maintain an appropriate manner is nothing if not inspiring. 
She gestures toward Emily. “You’re already encouraging bad behavior. Tsk-tsk,” she teases. 
“That’s my job as--hey, wait. What’s she gonna call me?” If you get custody, of course passes silently between them.
“I don’t know, Mulder,” Scully says, watching her daughter out of the corner of her eye. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” That’s a lie. She’s sat up during the night trying to decipher Mulder’s relation to Emily. He would certainly be the male authority in her life, but that doesn’t make him a father figure. Right? 
Scully adored her father because he was the head of the family, and he embraced the responsibility, always making sure they had what they needed. While her mother was often the one doing the grunt work of caring for them, her father provided for them. His long deployments with the Navy protected them. Scully understood his sacrifice and loved him for it 
That’s not how it would go with Emily. If she were so lucky as to get the child, Scully would be the caretaker and the provider. A two-in-one deal with a high price. What would that mean, for Emily? Scully could do it, she believes that. Not that it would be anything less than utterly exhausting, but with a little help from her mother and her sister, she could make do, and they say it takes a village to raise a child anyway, so what’s so bad about that?
Since she’s filling those roles herself, that leaves...well, Mulder could be the fun uncle, that fits him. Bill Jr. isn’t gonna cut it, and neither is Charlie, considering that he’s god knows where. Besides, it’s unlikely that Mulder will get a chance to know a biological niece or nephew. He and Emily could fill missing pieces in each other’s lives.
Scully’s eyes trace the contours of her partner’s face. “Do you have a preference about what she calls you?”
“I was hoping for His Royal Highness Fox Mulder of Martha’s Vineyard--is that too much?”
Scully lets a strand of hair fall over her face. “It might take her awhile to get her tongue around that.”
“Or it’ll speed up her speech acquisition,” Mulder replies. 
“Oh, you’re a child-rearing connoisseur now?”
Mulder twiddles his thumbs. “It is my goal to raise the first kid to transcribe canine language into English.”
“Really? I wasn’t aware of that,” Scully tells him, a smile flitting on her lips. It’s this kind of banter that keeps her sane. A few minutes out here with him, and she’s forgotten that what happens in that conference room will dictate the rest of her life. 
Across the hallway, Emily giggles at the air, and it fits, doesn’t it? Here she is, already laughing at Mulder’s jokes like the Scully girl she is. 
------------------------------
It feels like a prisoner exchange when witness number one in their civil-that-sure-feels-like-a-criminal case joins Scully back in the hallway, and Mulder is called forward “to the stand.” He swears he found a penny in the parking lot this morning & promises to bring back good news. Scully’s pretty sure he made that story up, but she’s no less hopeful that it’ll come true.
Returned from her brief stint in captivity, Missy dives right into a discussion of her niece: “Look at her, Dana, she looks just like you!”
“Well, she does have fifty percent of my DNA,” Scully concedes with an admiring glance at the little girl.
“Have you gone over to see her?”
Scully shakes her head. “I didn’t think that would be proper.”
“Are you kidding me?” Missy retorts. “First of all, Brian and Cecily are very nice people, and I’m not supposed to say this, but I think there’s a chance that Emily will be yours. Secondly, this could be your only opportunity to interact with your daughter and you’re not gonna take it?”
Scully bites her lip. Her sister knows how to craft an argument. “Alright, but you have to back me up.”
“Trust me, I wanna see her just as badly as you.”
Scully steels herself, then approaches the woman in the polo shirt. “Hello.” She does a polite half-wave, which she’s never done before and which makes her feel ridiculous. “I’m the potential adoptee, and I was wondering if I could say hello to this precious little girl.” It all feels completely out of character, like she’s reading lines from a script. But this is it, this is her reality.
The woman’s face offers little in the way of recognition. “You can have a supervised visit with her, yes,” she recites, as rehearsed as Scully. 
“Great.” Scully claps her hands together. “May I take her to my sister right over there?”
The woman nods. Scully lays her hands on Emily’s waist and lifts the girl gently from the woman’s lap. She is heavier than Scully imagined, or maybe just heavier than she hoped. Every ounce is a reminder of unseen existence and unwitnessed growth.
Emily does not balk, just stares up at her mother with those probing eyes. 
“Hi baby girl,” Scully coos to her daughter as she settles her against her hip. “Can you say hi? Have you got that one yet?”
The girl blinks. “Ma-ma.”
Scully crooks her neck, tries to reign in her racing imagination. All babies do this at this age, don’t they? Calling every woman mama and every man dada. Emily’s no exception. And yet...for that to be the first word her daughter has ever said to her. God winked at her, and she’s glad to have caught it. 
The pair makes it to Missy, who blows a kiss in Emily’s direction. “Hey there little one.” She extends her index finger, and the girl latches onto it. 
Scully cradles her baby’s head, Emily’s fine hair soft beneath her fingers. 
“She’s even-keeled for a baby,” Missy remarks, wiggling her finger and watching Emily crack a smile. 
“Yes,” Scully gurgles out of the sheer joy. She settles into her chair with Emily in her lap. “Do you know what she said to me?”
Missy looks up. “What?”
“Mama.” Scully dons a triumphant grin. “She called me mama.”
“Oh, no way!” Missy squeals. It’s a bit too loud and sudden, making Emily jump. The ladies laugh, and Scully pulls her daughter in closer, kissing the crown of her head. She still has that baby smell; the freshness of new life and all its purity. Scully sighs. It must have been even stronger when she was born.
Scully closes her eyes. If she had one chance to pause life somewhere along the way, to linger in a perfect moment longer, she would do it right now and she would never regret it. 
“My baby…” she breathes into Emily’s ear, hoping it will stick. That one day she’ll remember and find her way home, should she need to.
A warm tear slides down Scully’s cheek and lands in Emily’s lap, a dark drop on the girl’s corduroy pants. “Mama loves you, Emily.” She tightens her embrace. “That’s me,” she sniffs. “I love you, Emily.”
Observing this, Missy feels that she is an interloper and slips off to the bathroom, leaving mother and baby to have their moment. 
Scully strokes the girl’s tiny palm with her thumb. She has missed so much already, and my god, she could miss so much more. What is love, if not sacrifice? Hadn’t that been the takeaway from each week of Sunday school?
The conference door opens, and Scully finds herself irritated that life has failed to pause. Oh, what wouldn’t she do to take the reins from God, even for a moment? She looks up at Mulder, doe-eyed as he processes the optical illusion that is Emily and her mother. Said mother sees the tenderness on Mulder’s face as he comes to terms with this sight, and something in both of them breaks, and something else opens. 
Mulder approaches quietly, apprehensive about ruining the moment. Little does he know, he’s not ruining it; he’s completing it. 
“Hey,” Scully swoons. “How was it?”
He’s too earnest to crack a joke right now. “Less nerve-wracking than I expected,” he murmurs. “Brain and Cecily are good people.” 
Scully can’t help but wonder if they’re hammering this point about Brian and Cecily to make her feel better when the gavel falls in their direction. Mulder directs her train of thought away from this when he kneels in front of Emily.  His eyes are as soupy as ever, Scully notices; she could sink right into them.
“May I?”
Scully chuckles under her breath, like a stranger has just asked if they could pet her dog. “Of course, Mulder. Say hi.”
Over the past weeks, Mulder spent considerable time anticipating this initial interaction. First impressions are important, after all, and there is no one he has wanted to impress more than this sweet girl. Ultimately, he decided that he didn’t care what their meeting was, as long as it would be. And now that he’s here, knelt in front of his two favorite girls, he’s ready to make a promise.
He envelops Emily’s closed fist with one hand and uses the other to caress Scully’s palm. “I want you to know,” he begins, shifting his gaze between mother and daughter, “that I’ll always be here for you.” 
He looks to Scully, realizing that Emily is unable to comprehend what he is saying. “Regardless of Brian and Cecily’s choice, I am prepared to make every sacrifice so that you two can be a family. The family you deserve to be. I know what it’s like to not have that, and christ, Scully, I’m not letting you go through that. You’ve had enough for one lifetime.”
Scully’s face puckers. She is moved on a dimension that transcends the spiritual, if such a thing is possible. She closes her eyes, lets the tears slip out, then softens her focus on him. 
“Thank you, Mulder...Fox,” she effuses, needing to heighten the intimacy. “Emily and I…” she kisses her daughter’s temple again. “Well, you know. You already know.” Her voice is somber almost, reminiscent of a wedding vow’s binding utterance.
Mulder smiles up at them, pats Scully’s hand. “I know. Me too.” 
There are many phrases that could fill her blank, but he chose his favorite, and he’s got an inkling that he’s right.
Scully sucks in a breath, and it’s the first one that has ever counted. Earth is new to her, again.
The door opens a second time, and the lawyer approaches with Brian and Cecily behind her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lace would like to take some time to think about their decision,” Tanya announces. “You will understand, they hope…?”
Scully nods, swallowing back a lump in her throat. She would like to break into a tantrum, throwing chairs and screeching every obscenity she knows. Begging please, please, don’t let me miss another heartbeat. Let me live in this Heaven I’ve found. But no answer is better than an immediate rejection, so she screws her lips into a smile and gives away two more handshakes. 
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Lace. I’m grateful for this opportunity.”
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astro-pioneer · 3 years
Text
Purple Cloud Glasses 『Shinsou x Reader』
In honour of my tired self. Here's some fluff to angst (:
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The most iconic thing about you were the cloud sunglasses you always wore. You had multiple pairs, as proven by the different colours that changed every day. Cloud shape with raindrops attached with chains. Shinsou always liked the purple pair you owned.
His liked your quirk too.
Sleep powder, it was called. You could produce it from any body part and works when inhaled. You failed the entrance exam due to that. Kind of like him. You two bonded over that when you first conversed in 1-C. Well, more like you flicked some at him due to seeing his eye bags and he passed out for a minute, but who needs specifics?
"Hey, Shinsou," you muttered while turning to him, the pink raindrops swinging lightly before resting on your cheeks, "did anyone offer you anything? I know internships are only for the hero courses, but I heard Eraserhead mention how the entrance exam was irrational during your fight with the green sheep. Plus, Midnight came up to me." He blinked. Who was the green sheep? It took him a second before he wanted to smack himself. He only had one fight.
Shinsou raised an eyebrow at you. "You mean Midoriya? But yeah, he came up to me. Why, wondering if he asked the same thing Midnight did?" A few seconds pass with no response. "(L/N)?"
You blinked, "Hm? Oh, yeah. She told me that the place we'll be practicing will be occupied by another teaching and someone else from here so I assumed you due to your quirk." Shinsou sometimes hated how perceptive you were. His distasteful face did all the talking. You grinned, "Good. I won't be alone then."
Dorm life with you was fine. You were mindful of others, him especially. Your music and television were never too loud, if you spoke it was never at a volume for anyone to hear what you're saying. He liked having you as a neighbour. But, it was when he studied with you and saw you finally relaxed and more yourself that you two really connected to one another.
He was told to just walk right in when he was ready, so that's what he did. The sky blue glasses that you wore today found their place on the display shelves that held all the other pairs. "Can I have one?" You didn't even look up.
"When I'm dead, sure. Choose a pair." Shinsou looked at them all. You had multiple colours, some even the same but different shades. He trailed his eyes to the row of purple glasses you had, trying on every pair before choosing the shade in the middle. Keeping them on, he turned to you for your opinion. "I don't have to look at you to know that you look nice," you muttered smoothly.
He choked.
That incident set back the studying for a few minutes before Shinsou moved over to you. Music played quietly in the background as you helped each other with the math homework from that day. "I'm Jared, 19..." You caught his attention, making him look up and watch as you stared deadly at the problem you were confused on.
"And I'm Michael with a B. You gotta simplify it first, dumbass."
He realized he hasn't seen or heard from you in a while after the third day. He voiced his concerns to the homeroom teacher but all they did was dodge the question by mentioning something coming up. It was suspicious, so Shinsou decided to try to find answers himself. The first place he tried was, obviously, your dorm room.
It was locked. You never lock it due to him.
He decided that, during the weekend, he'll stop by your house to see if you're there. Yes, good plan, he mentally applauded himself. That never happened though.
During the evening of Friday, five days after he made his plan to visit your house, he got a knock on his door. The only person who even bothered him was you, but you've been gone the whole week. A small ray of hope shone in his head; what if it was you and you just had a family emergency? That was his thought process as he lifted himself up and off his bed and to the door.
Nothing but a small rectangular box was outside his door. A small tag reading 'Shinsou' on the front was neatly put on the top. He was even more suspicious of the whole situation, as that was your handwriting. Cautiously, he picked it up and placed it on his desk, taking the note that was under the tag first.
Hey, Shinsou. Seeing as though you're reading this, it seems as though something has happened to me. Before I tell what, I just want you to know that you were always my favourite person. Always was, always will be. Now, the explanation: I was diagnosed with juvenile Huntington's disease when I was four. Since I got it so young, the symptoms were worse than they would've been with someone who got it when they were in their 30s. I'm sorry from keeping this from you.
I was removed from school after a big drop of my performance happened. It was then revealed how badly the symptoms had gotten, too. However, I don't want to give my whole life story on this small sheet of paper. I want to say sorry. Sorry for getting so attached to you and allowing you to become attached to me. I do not regret being your friend, I just wish I didn't have to leave you.
The last part of the note was written by your guardian.
Our house will always be open to you, Shinsou. From how (Y/N) talked about you, I could tell you would've been introduced to me as someone more than a friend. Please, do visit if you like and can. I'd love to get to know you at the same level (Y/N) did.
Shinsou couldn't even finish reading the note, the tears that pooled in his eyes blurring his view. After reading that, he knew what was in the box. He didn't want to open it, as that'd confirm what the note implied. But he did anyway.
Sitting in the padded interior was a pair of purple sunglasses shaped like a cloud with raindrops attached to the bottom with chains. He choked out a sob when he slid them on.
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captainrexisboo · 4 years
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Comfort pt2: Butterflies
I did this one on mobile at work! Turns out I’m ✨Still In My Feelings✨ but writing a flustered Rex makes me feel better, so y’all are gonna deal (I love you all so much ❤️)
Warnings: none. But notes: Rex x Reader, sweet pining, emotional vulnerability, reader is a woman
I hope you guys enjoy this one just as much as the last one ❤️ all comments welcome, DMs always open 🥰 and finally: @000ayfh @pinkiemme @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life (that’s right pro, I read your tags) you guys make me C R Y with your kind words 😭 thank you ❤️ Edit- I forgot to link Pt1
Also pt3: Waiting
~
“Rex?”
He looked up quickly at the sound of your voice, you were standing there with your work in your hands and a flutter of your lashes. He chuckled at the familiar face, honeyed eyes crinkling in amusement as you gave him an innocent pout, “What is it today, Y/N? Are we sitting in silence or having a chat?”
He gestured to the chair in front of his desk for guests, and you practically skipped over to the seat, laying your own datapad and reports in neat stacks, “I think I just need to be. But can we put on some music?”
“Don’t see why not,” Rex gave you a charming grin, one you were now able to easily return without the corners of your lips threatening to pull down. Rex put on some basic top hits radio station, putting the volume down a little low to make it blend into the background, and sharing a smile with you once more before the two of you continued to work in comfortable silence.
It’s been about four standard months since he had given you that hug you desperately needed, since he offered you his company, his shoulder to lean on. You had taken him up on his offer about twice weekly, the two of you quickly becoming close. You shared a hug whenever he came back from a battle now, blessing the stars that he was safe, and you’d say as much whenever he boarded, “Thank you for coming back to me.”
You thought that maybe the first time you said it, he was about to short circuit, his spine stiffening and biting back a choking sound. He swears it was just a bit of exhaust trapped in the ventilation system of his helmet that caused him to cough like that though, you hope he got it fixed. You enjoyed having someone like Rex around, he was kind, sympathetic, patient, a good listener, trustworthy- he made good on his word that you could come to him for anything. Moments like this were now your favorite parts of the week.
Rex enjoyed having you around so often as well. It made his heart feel whole to know how deep your trust in him went, and was always grateful for the little ways you showed your appreciation. He wondered if you were so touchy with all of your friends. If you always gave your friends warm, crushing hugs, or subtle brushes of fingertips on their wrists. If you always gave them words of affirmation, or came into their offices just to sit and share warm laughter. The first time you had kriffing thanked him for returning in one piece made him nearly combust with happiness. To know you were waiting for him to come back every time just made him...he wasn’t sure, but he was hiding the widest of smiles under his bucket. He knew there were butterflies in his stomach that liked to fly up into his throat and make him trip over himself, and that your touches burned through his armor with the sweetest of fire, and that every time your smile was directed at him it shined brighter than any sun he’s ever witnessed. He knew that sharing caff with you felt like a special occasion, even if it was just made from the instant machine in the rec room and brought to his office.
“Rex,” you spoke his name carefully, like you were unsure about how it was pronounced, “Can I ask you something?”
He lifted his head up to you, and he felt his chest tighten. Your gaze was down, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth, twisting your stylus between your fingers. Rex could feel his brows furrow, your mood changed on the drop of a dime, and he cleared his throat to speak low to you, “Of course. Anything.”
He held his breath as you looked up at him through heavy lashes, swallowing his butterflies down as you let out a shuddering exhale, “Why do you care so much?”
Oh.
“Uh,” Rex felt his own gaze shoot downward, suddenly finding his stack of flimsiplast very interesting, “You’re a good friend, Y/N. A kind person. Why wouldn’t I care about you?”
You blinked slowly to him, trying to catch his averted line of sight, “Well, you do a lot for me. You listen to my problems, keep me company when I need it, and I just. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything to deserve it, and-“
“You deserve everything.”
Rex had this issue where no matter how hard he tried, his butterflies made him speak. They made him say the damndest things to you, just bursting out of him in spurts, and always left him to clear it up by himself. His eyes widened at his own words, your eyes finally locking onto his, and he could feel heat rushing to his face as he stammered, “What I mean is, you… you deserve more than you think. Even if you weren’t my friend, I’d still want to extend basic kindness towards you.”
“Captain,” you cocked a brow to him, leaning back in your chair, noticing the way his jaw flexed when you dropped his title, “You walked me through the hardships of heartbreak. You still do, some days. That’s a bit more than basic kindness.”
“Because we’re friends,” he cleared his throat, suddenly finding it difficult to look away from you now, “I mean. You see us as friends, right? That’s what friends do.”
You searched his gaze, bottom lip pulled between your teeth again, making Rex feel surprisingly small as you continued your staring. You hummed at him, releasing your lip, and Rex couldn’t stop himself from glancing down to the reddened flesh. You leaned toward him, forearms on the desk, “But why? We weren’t close before, you kinda just…”
You trailed off into a small giggle, the sound sweet, and Rex was hanging onto your every word at the edge of his seat. You looked off to the side, your own cheeks feelings warm, “You kinda came out of nowhere. A hero, swooping in at the last second to save the maiden in need. Like in the stories I used to read as a kid.”
A hero. If it had come from anyone else, if he had read it on the holonet or seen his face on a war poster, he would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes. But instead it came from you, direct and to his face in the privacy of four walls, and he was melting. You looked up at him again, gaze soft, your warmth shining through as you bit back another giggle, “Sorry if that's weird, or childish, but it’s true. You remind me- no, you are exactly that.”
Rex couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched over his face, it felt goofy, and toothy, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He tried, he tried to stop, but that only made it worse, and he found himself wishing he had his helmet as he was sure his cheeks held a deep ruddy color to them.
“You’re...you have no idea what you mean to me,” he shook his head, resting his chin in his palm to try and cover his cheshire grin as you looked at him in curious amusement, “Y/N, you are such...you’re a light on this ship. All the staff, all my troopers, even our Jedi care about you. You’re always offering your smile to us, making us feel warm even in hyperspace, and if I’m being honest, coming back to y-“
Rex cleared his throat, cutting himself off as he found himself bearing his soul to you. He watched you closely, the way your lashes hit the tops of your cheeks as you blinked to him, the way you chewed on the plump of your pout as you waited for him to continue. He cleared his throat again, his slight stubble rubbing against the synthweave of his gloves, “Ah, c-coming back aboard to…to see you, I mean. It just makes me feel...better.”
He finished lamely, finally gaining control of his face again and pressing his lips together into a fine line before he could spew anything else out to you. He felt like a cadet again, his heart was racing and his face was hot, and he waited for you to laugh at his silly notions. He wasn’t prepared for the mist that came over your gaze, or the sniffle that accompanied it.
“You really-” you paused to wipe away the tears already gathering atop your lashes, a thin laugh breaking through your choked words, “You’re terrible, making me cry like this. How did a sharp edged, straight cut soldier like yourself get to be so sweet?”
“I’m...sorry?”
He was so perplexed.
You smiled through your haze, more laughter straining out, “F-for what? You just...you say all the right things, Rex.”
He didn’t know what to do. He made you cry, but...you were happy about it? He froze in his seat, unsure of what to say, if he should move- should he give you a hug? Did you want a hug? Did you need to leave? Did you want to leave?
He held his breath as you pushed yourself out of the chair, walking around his desk to immediately fling your arms around his neck. You pulled him close as you leaned down into him, his face heating up even more as it was shoved into your neck, nose skimming the hairline behind your ear. He felt a shiver go down his spine as you sighed against him, your breath fanning over his neck, and he froze. What should he do with his hands?
Typically you’d both be standing, and he’d be able to return your tight hold with his arms around your back, but if he did that now then he’d be pulling you into his lap and he is not going down that rabbit hole. If he just placed them- no, then his hands would be encircling your waist, that’s just as bad as the lap. What if…
Gingerly testing the waters, he breathed through his nose, moving slow as if he’d scare you off with the slightest surprise. He brought one hand up to sit between your shoulder blades, and that was fine. The other hand was treading new territory, coming up to the back of your scalp and threading his fingers through your hair. Your content hum would replay in his mind the rest of the day.
“Rex…”
That was going to replay in his mind for the rest of the week. The way you breathed his name out made him hold you even tighter, not even realizing what he was doing until you chuckled low against him, “Thank you, Rex. I don’t know what kind of state I’d be in if you hadn’t been there for me.”
“It’s my pleasure, Y/N,” he whispered to you, trying not to let his lips skim against your neck as he spoke, “Sincerely.”
You pulled away, and he found himself missing the mild smell of your shampoo. You smiled down at him, standing with your hands behind your back and a hip jutted to the side. You seemed to be contemplating something as you kept looking off to the side, and before Rex could ask what was wrong, you had leaned down to ever so gently press your lips to the side of his temple.
“Sometimes a hug doesn’t say everything quite right,” you bit your lip, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as you felt your cheeks heat up again, “If anyone deserves everything, it’s you, Captain.”
With a final smile, you walked back around to your side of the desk. You bit back a slight giggle as you saw Rex touch the side of his head where you kissed him, turning back to your work just as he looked over to you. He let out a breathy chuckle, getting back to his own work, the two of you settling back into the previous comfortable silence, the forgotten radio finishing up another song.
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