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#this post is going to come back to haunt me isn't it
queenspock · 3 months
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Wish we got to see more of Major Reed especially in MACO uniform
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corfisers · 5 months
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i really need to finish this one day
#one of my fave ideas but i keep getting stuck or starting over. third time's the charm hopefully#anyways. posting it as an excuse to rant because i'm losing my mind over this rn for no reason#incoherent but i just need to Talk or my brain won't shut up#you ever think about how fucked up it is that aoi feels guilty over what happened. i do. i think about her a lot#he can't even look at me. we aren't even blood related but he still had to go to jail because of me. i still love him#in reality none of it is her fault. it shouldn't be about doumeki in the first place. baby girl you were 15 when it happened.#you can say that yashiro is cruel in his dismissiveness (on the surface) of doumeki's trauma but you can see where he's coming from#you got a glimpse of what your sister was going through? of what i went through? and now you're sooo guilty over it? and who does it help?#doumeki's so focused on his own feelings that he ignored aoi when they were living together. “saves” her by pure chance#proceeds to focus on his guilt and ignore her again. if yashiro didn't get involved she'd be sitting in the rain for god knows how long#yet she still loves and to some degree idolizes him#yashiro and aoi both saying that doumeki isn't the type of person to be a yakuza too. doumeki's good doumeki's better than that#and then ch 24 happens. where yashiro says that he's going to throw up and doumeki's response is “i probably won't stop even if you do”#“guess i am like my father after all” and yashiro still goes “you're not. you're pure and im the problem”#(touches doumeki's face. rare gentle gesture. he's gentle afterwards too before leaving. man.)#he's not cruel enough to repeat what he said in the earlier conversation and he doesn't actually believe it anyway#but i wish yashiro was cruel there. it shouldn't have been about doumeki and his feelings. again.#something about yashiro throwing a knife at another person and it flying back at him huh#for all the talk about how doumeki supposedly romanticizes yashiro it really is the other way around. always has been#which is a whole other conversation but yeah. everything about aoi and yashiro in relation to doumeki makes me so fucking sad#but this is also what i mean when i say that aoi doesn't haunt the narrative per se but still has this weird presence?#she's in the parallels. she's in the brief but important mentions. she's in the “your sister was lucky she had you”.#wips tag
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applebunch · 2 years
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michael was haunted by leon but nica wasn’t... nica not being haunted by leon did not mitigate the suffering she underwent... thinking abt it forever
#nica stamatis#leon stamatis#michael tate#greater boston spoilers#yadda yadda made a unprived post abt it already#''haunted'' having a very specific definition that does not apply to all grieving characters#and michael was haunted by leon because. although leon loved all of his friends and family. his relationship with michael was. different.#that relationship wasn't MORE than the other ones in any way. it was just. different.#leon's soul very quickly became tethered to michael's. once he was brought back.#leon apparently felt a special need to help michael in specific. despite the fact that michael wasn't the only one struggling#and we. still haven't gotten an explanation for why it was HIM and not ANYONE ELSE#and until the writers come out and say that it isn't that deep#i choose to believe tha it's because of this stuff#being haunted is DIFFERENT from what nica was going through but it isn't WORSE#being haunted is ONE unhealthy way to take the death of a loved one but it isn't the ONLY WAY or inherently the WORST way#by far the most miserable characters in the podcast are a restless ghost and the brother he haunts#so haunting CAN be REALLY BAD#but it is not INHERENTLY the WORST#interesting distinction to me. given how. you know. scary haunting is. you'd IMAGINE it'd be inherently the worst#like there's a sliding scale of ''bad'' and ''worst'' and haunting's at the end of it#but not only is it NOT. there is no sliding scale! because that's not how this works!#most of michael's suffering was done at the hands of ~supernatural influence~ and nica's was extremely magic-free#but they were BOTH still really really really bad!!!!!#grater bluecheese
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 3 months
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Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study
Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.
Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.
Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.
Those are his emotional support slurs.
Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.
Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.
He's Sad.
The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.
Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.
Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:
Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.
The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.
At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.
Compare Feferi: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.
To Eridan: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.
So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.
Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!
Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.
But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.
Which brings us to our next point:
Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.
If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.
If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.
Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.
Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.
(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)
Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.
He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.
He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.
NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.
Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.
SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.
We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.
KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties
Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."
And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!
CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble
You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).
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Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:
CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!
One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.
And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.
CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be
But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:
Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated
Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay
In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.
Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:
CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry
CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway
It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:
ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!
THEY don't even think he's being casteist.
In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:
CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ
He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:
CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies
So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.
That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.
The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.
Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.
The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!
And it's all made worse because:
Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)
Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.
Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)
CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about
What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.
This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.
CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands
He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.
This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.
So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.
And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:
ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science
Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.
It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.
I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.
So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?
Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -
Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It
So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.
What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.
At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.
The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:
CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though
("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")
The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:
CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly
And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:
KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.
It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)
So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?
See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":
FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.
Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:
PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.
He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.
You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:
KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.
That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?
That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:
TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole
He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:
TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on
Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,
Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.
Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).
Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.
Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.
And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:
CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it
Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:
PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it
Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.
But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).
So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)
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But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:
GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.
But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:
CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.
In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:
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But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:
PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.
It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:
CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
To:
CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.
Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:
A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.
That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.
It also goes on to note:
But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.
But what's really interesting is the next page.
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And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.
Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.
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(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)
In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...
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The crab has always been there for him.
It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:
TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)
When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.
There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.
First, they both do the bonk:
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Second:
CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.
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Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):
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CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.
Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:
The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.
Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.
And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:
Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.
So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:
ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.
(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)
So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...
Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)
So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.
I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."
Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.
So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.
It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.
It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.
I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.
The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.
Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.
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Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.
Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.
Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.
Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.
There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.
Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:
The Prophecy
ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.
ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized
GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway
Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)
But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.
Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.
Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.
That last one is actually relevant to:
The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates
Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.
Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.
Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.
But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.
Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.
In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.
But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.
Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.
Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.
Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.
Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.
Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.
Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.
Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.
Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.
Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).
And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.
I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?
This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.
This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!
Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.
Thank you for reading.
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calliesmemes · 3 months
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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET
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CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”
“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”
“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”
“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”
“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”
“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”
“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”
“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”
“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”
“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”
“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”
“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”
“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”
“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”
“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”
“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”
“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”
“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”
“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”
“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”
“   I really do hate thinking. ”
“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”
“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”
“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”
“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”
“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”
“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”
“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”
“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”
“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”
“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”
“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”
“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”
“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”
“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”
“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”
“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”
“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”
“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”
“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”
“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”
“   You look so biteable today. ”
“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”
“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”
“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”
“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”
“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”
“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”
“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”
“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”
“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”
“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”
“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”
“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”
“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”
“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”
“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”
“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”
“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”
“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”
“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”
“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”
“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”
“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”
“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”
“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”
“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”
“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”
“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”
“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”
“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”
“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”
“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”
“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”
“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”
“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”
“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”
“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”
“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”
“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”
“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”
“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”
“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”
“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”
“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”
“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”
“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”
“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”
“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”
“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”
“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”
“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”
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feralforfrank · 1 year
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EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER
summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.
cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!
a/n some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)
masterlist | taglist
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When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body. 
It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.
A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.
Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter. 
But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments. 
The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.
Fuck, it's not there. 
The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.
In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz? 
"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.
Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.
"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."
Darlin'.
Darlin'. Darlin'!
Ghost.
And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.
"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.
"Help me up," you whisper.
Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.
He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.
"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.
There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other. 
You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.
Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest. 
A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."
He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.
"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"
"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.
You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."
"You protected the team."
"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."
"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."
You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.
"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.
You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.
"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered." 
It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.
"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."
He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."
Lt. 
I'm your Lt.
It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.
"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"
"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."
Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."
He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.
"Leaving?"
It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.
But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.
He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.
So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"
Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.
You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.
And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.
He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.
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[ taglist: @master-amidala, @darklordofthesimp (i'm finally writing for this fandom! ]
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kennedybaby · 3 months
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HAUNTING ~ JASON P. TODD. 18+
Summary: Maybe blocking Jason isn't such a great idea.
Contents: dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering in the alleyway, fucking in the alleyway hence risky sex slash teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism, rough sex, size difference, unhealthy relationship.
Pairing: Jason P. Todd X Female! Reader.
Word count: 2.6k
Author note: an anon implied that they want a part two of the drabble i made abt ex! jason. it is here... and it's valentine's day special. sorry for dropping bangers and leaving for another 2 months. will do it again. enjoy!
🖥️ MAIN MENU. PART ONE.
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I know if I’m haunting you,
you must be haunting me.
You told yourself this was going to be the last time. The morning after Jason had left, you were already blocking his number and changing the lock to your front door the next day. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity that helps you realized that maybe… maybe this things going on between you and him wasn’t exactly healthy. Maybe it’s a good idea to ignore the calls you’ve been getting from ‘unknown’ caller knowing full well it was him.
You think it’s a little cute when he went as far as to text you from Dick’s number.
He thinks you’re a brat.
Besides, who cares if what him and you had going on wasn’t healthy? You didn’t have to blocked him.
Whatever, what’s done is done. “He’s going to stop reaching out eventually.” you told yourself only to see him leaning against his bike, waiting for you in one of the alleyway you always passes after your night shift a week after blocking him. The red helmet slightly glints in the dark when the streetlight hits, “come here,” he murmurs, head tilts slightly to the side. There’s a battered bouquet of red roses in his hand, the veins on his forearm pokes out from how tight he gripped the bouquet to the point that the stems are crushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, princess. Come get your flowers.” Jason adds, his other hand reached up to removed his helmet as he placed it on the seat of his bike.
”I don’t want to.” A small huff left your lips.
”Just do it, goddamnit [Y/N].”
Old habits die hard.
Your shoulders drops in defeat as you dragged your feet to him, you can’t help it. As much as you want to keep up the ‘I’ve-totally-moved-on’ acts, you just can’t. So here you are, not even five minutes in and Jason already had his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips naturally finding their way to yours the second you had your head slightly tilts up. “Blocked my number, huh? What, you think you’re so mature, huh?” He snorts, letting the bouquet falls from his hand to hold you tighter in his arms. “I didn’t block you…” You whined, standing on your tip toes to keep him quiet by smothering his lips with small pecks.
”Yeah right, that’s totally believable.” He scoffed in between the pecks you're giving him, his head tilts down to make it easier for you to reached in for more kisses. “Because my texts and calls totally got thru.” You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping from the way he talks to you. “I might have accidentally blocked you.” You pulled back slightly to watch as his face gradually sours. He stared back at you with an annoyed look, his brows furrowed before a low groan leaves his lips. “Face the wall.” He groaned, his fingers running thru his black locks before you reluctantly turn to face the wall, “We’re doing it right here?” You stuttered as you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your eyes quickly widened when he pressed himself against you. His bulge slightly rubs against your ass, his hands digs into your hips to keep you still. “Damn right we are.” He says, his breathing slightly staggered as he moves his hips slightly to get more friction against his clothed cock.
You leaned the back of your head, fingers latching onto his forearms as a support. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?” He speak with a gruff, there’s creases on his forehead as Jason looked back at him. “How many times are you going to do this, huh? Acting like I don’t exist and blocking my number the second we had sex. I’m gettin’ real sick of it, [Y/N].” His hand reached up to grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him  as he grinds himself against the curves of your ass. “Fucking brat.” He adds, his thumb gently brushing over your lips. “My fucking brat.”
“I don’t know,” you breathes, your lips instinctively parting as Jason slips his thumb into your mouth. “…until you’re bored of me?.” You muffled out your words, eyes slowly turning cloudy from the having his cock brushing up against you. He scoffed at your reasoning, rolling his eyes before he pressed his thumb down your tongue.
”As if.” He mumbled, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re gonna block me again after this?” His eyes flickered to looked back at you. You stared at him for a solid minute with only the sound of his jeans and your skirt rubbing together can be heard before he removed his thumb off your tongue to let you speak. “No?” You stammers, mentally cursing yourself when he smirked at your answer. “Good girl.” He replied, his hand falls to the hem of your skirt.
”I missed you,” A soft whine left his lips as his fingers desperately reached down to rub your clit. Jason leaned against you to leave kisses on your neck and up to your jaw as his fingers pushes your panties aside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” He mutters, massaging the bundle of nerves in a circular motion. He slowly swipes his fingers between your folds as you leave trails of your wetness on his fingers. “Looks like this pretty little thing misses me too.” He chuckled when you whimpers at the feeling of his fingers being pushed inside of you. “I missed you too…” You whined, eyes shut tight as he pumps his digits deeper into your sopping cunt. The wetness between your legs sticks to your thighs and clings to his fingers, his teeth hungrily leaving marks on your neck. “Sorry for blocking you.” Your body shuddered in sheer bliss when his fingers curls with his calloused palm constantly brushing against your clit.
”Yeah? You’re sorry?” He asked, his voice growing breathy while his other hand clumsily undo his belt and zipper. A small frustrated groan leaves his throat before he pulls his fingers out of you causing you to pout and whine. “Oh, come on. Give me a second.” He laughed, turning you around but this time facing his bike. He moves your leg up on the seat before he kneel down behind you. “Fuck… Look at that.” He whispers, his warm breath fanned against your pussy before he desperately buried his face in between your thighs. “Jason!” You squeaked, toes curling upon feeling his tongue lapping on your clit with his fingers tightly gripping your thighs. His thick fingers leaving marks on your skin as you squirmed on his bike, causing him to land a spank on your cheek.
You whined. “What’s that for?” You looked back at him only to be met with his dazed eyes and his mouth still latching onto your pussy, drinking every liquid that drips out of you. For once in the span of an hour filled with nothing but his sarcasm, he was quiet. Except for the occasional groans and moans every time you pushes deeper against his nose. Your nails digs into the cushion of his seat as you whimpers when he slide his tongue into your entrance, prodding in and out of your entrance before he finally pulled back for some air.
”Jeez, Jay…” He looked up at you when you pouted, his cheeks and chin were coated with your juices before his eyes cast down to the way you wiggled your hips at him. “…keep going.” You bat your lashes at him, the excitement in your stomach stirs as he tugs his pants and boxer just low enough for his cock to springs out of the tight confinement before gently slapping against his stomach. His thumb keeping your panties aside and your entrance exposed to him, "Calm down, princess." He sighs before his teeth digs into his lower lip, it's been a hard week since he felt anything close to this. Sure, he settled on his fist for the first two days before he completely stopped when he realised that fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn't as good as fucking you.
He slowly moves his hips, managing to bury the tip of his cock inside of you as he lets out a choked moan. "Still feels good as ever." He moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed. His cock twitches in you when small whines falls past your lips, sending vibrations down to him as the muscles tightening around his length. "Christ, you're still not used to me?" His breath were shaky before he looked down to you, admiring at the clear size difference between the two of you as you tried your best to take every inch of him.
"S'not my fault," You huffed, your legs slightly trembles underneath him. Jason shifts your position slightly, holding you by the waist with one hand while his other hand makes their way under your shirt to fondled with your tits. "Never said it was." He replied, pushing his cock deeper inside of you until he’s halfway in when he stopped, noticing the way you tensed up. “It’s okay, baby. Just a few more inches and the hard part’s over.” Your body shuddered from his whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck before you quickly nods at his words. His hand reached to wiped the sweats off your forehead before his hips slowly moves, “Mhm, just like that… Just relax.” Jason coos, planting small kisses on your temples.
A whine break out of your sealed lips when he completely buried himself inside of you, filling every crevices off your pussy with his twitching cock. The curve of his length itches just the sweet spot to make you see stars, “Jason…” The sound of you calling his name temporarily distracts him from the way your pussy clamped him down. His fingers had its deadly grips on your hips as you stand on your tip toes just to slightly fuck yourself on his cock, “Yeah?” He croaked, replying back to you with a deeper tone as he glanced down to the way your ass softly slaps against his pelvis, “You’re adjusting?” He asked before you let a small ‘mhm’ left your lips.
“You’re just fucking yourself on me.”
“No, I’m not.” You lied with a crooked grin. Jason rolled his eyes.
“Just look at the damn wall. You’re gonna break that dainty little neck if you keep looking back at me like that.” He mumbled, moving his hips into you in a more quicker pace. “Hold onto my helmet. Drop it and I’m stopping.” He grabbed a fistful off your ass while you quickly grabbed the red helmet, hugging it to your chest. The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the dark alleyway, your shared moans and groans reverberates and bounces off the brick walls. He moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers pressing down on your clit as he moves it in sloppy, circular motion. His other hand holding on the handle of his bike, “Lift your ass up, baby.” He grunted, brow furrowing as his hips moves back and forth, every thrust felt like he’s sending you over the edge.
”I’m trying!” You said in a hushed tone, too breathless. You weren’t sure if your knees can take anymore before they buckled to the dirty ground. In an act of desperation, Jason lifts you up with his forearm under your stomach causing your legs to dangled off the ground before he continue shoving his fat cock into your dripping pussy. You let out a small gasp, he’s really doing it-- he’s quite literally carrying you like a doll. “Can’t even do the simplest thing.” He huffed, eyes closed with his the tip of his nose tickling the crook of your neck as your fingers clings to his helmet, not wanting to dropped it lest he stopped just for the sake of making you miserable.
Your eyes lazily gazes at the other end of the alleyway where anyone that decides to passed the alleyway can noticed the both of you. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, minimizing your moans into small squeaks and whines. You glanced at Jason, hoping he doesn’t notice only for him to sharply thrust into you to elicit a loud moan out of you, green eyes narrowing down at you. “Don’t be quiet,” He whispered, his other hand reached to traced the curve of your spine with his thumb lightly. “Let me hear you.” He dragged his voice to sound slightly whiny just to tease you even further.
You hated how much you expected this from the get go.
Blocking him was never an option, Jason has a knack when it comes to keeping you tied to him. One command from him and you’d rushed back into his arms like a puppy, hopelessly lingering around him. “Feels so good…” You whispered back, lashes thick with salty tears as wanton moans spills out of your swollen lips. You hated the fact that the both of you knows this. You’re not even sure if the both of you were even exes at some point. The feeling of the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot sends you shivering despite being half dressed, it doesn’t help how godly his cock is. The delicious curve that sends you whining for more, the noticeable vein on the side of his length, the way his balls slaps against your clit, the thickness of it-- all of it drives you insane, fills your body with nothing but carnal desires.
“Outside? Inside?” He asked in between his groans, strands of his black locks sticks to his forehead as his jaw clenches. You know it’s near when his movement grow sloppy and inconsistent, his eyes darkened with sheer lust and the muscles on his bicep flexes. “Fuck, don’t just gimme puppy eyes, princess. Answer me.” He said with gritted teeth, purposely moving his hips rougher into you as you cried out of pleasure. “Out, out, out…” Your babbles almost went incoherent when you choked on your own moans while you blinks away the tears that welled at the corned of your eyes. He nods his head, burying his face into your shoulder as his arm around your waist tightens.
”Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He curses, his head spinning and leaving him dizzy. Jason wanted to stay inside of you badly, the warmth of your cunt wrapping snugly around him screams nothing but heaven. And the fact that you’re already cumming on his cock before he even gets to pulled out? God, you’re just torturing him at this point. He pulled out of you right before he finishes, wet and sticky seeds shooting on your back and staining your skirt as he winces when the cold air hits his cock. “Oh my god.” His chuckle were airy, skin were slightly flushed from the lovemaking. Jason cradled you in his arms, turning you around to face him before placing you on top of his bike.
”You okay?” He asked, softly massaging your inner thighs. His forehead presses against yours, his gaze softened at the sight of you looking back at him with tired eyes. “Yep.” Your answer were short as you steadied your breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck to pulled him closer while Jason fixes your clothes.
”Wanna go rest at my place?”
The both of you stared at each other for a solid minute. You give him a small nod.
“That’s my girl.”
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY.
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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1K MILESTONE EVENT PLAYLIST
you have picked the prompts, and now it's time for me to whip them into tales !
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#001 married on purpose — with . . . gojo satoru ! -> “for one, i can show you incredible things!” jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.
#002 happy marriage — with . . . nanami kento ! -> “you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
#003 two lies and a truth — with . . . itadori yuji ! -> “it's me and not him!” it's a dream comes true for you when your crush texts you back. little do you know that the one behind the phone isn't him but rather the boy who has long held onto the purest of feelings for you from afar... your best friend, itadori yuji.
#004 lover's quarrel — with . . . fushiguro megumi ! -> “i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
#005 rightfully yours — with . . . okkotsu yuta ! -> “i just have to ask. will you go out with me?” the special grade jujutsu sorcerer, your classmate, has asked you out and you couldn't be happier. only sometimes, it doesn't feel right to be with him... especially when one way or another, he is still bound by his first love—rika.
#006 memories — with . . . gojo satoru ! -> “tell me the truth, what are we?” you awaken to find your memories gone. and the charming man with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen is the clue to your past memories.
#007 the way i love you — with . . . fushiguro megumi ! -> “if you feel safer with me being here, then i’ll be here.” megumi has long been pining on you, and throughout it all he doesn't understand. you could've had someone better—someone who would treat you right. why can't you see that he is right in front of your eyes all this time?
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note: thank you so much for those who have stopped by to pick the prompts! i can’t promise when i’ll start posting them because well… life, but i think the earliest should be by next week though! (i hope)
some of these, if not most, are combinations of several requests that i merged into one story, you'll find your suggestions there, i promise! i'm not sure how much you'll enjoy this... but i sure hope that you will!
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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There's someone inside my head | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N is targeted by a certain ghost during the filming of the Sam and Colby ft. Sturniolo Triplets video.
Requested?: Yes, from anon.
Warning: Paranormal, supernatural, ghosts, mediumship, physical injury, pain.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: I will definitely post more x reader based on the video between Sam and Colby and the triplets! It's so fun to write them.
PS. 2: This one happens in the same "universe" of this Matt Sturniolo x Reader of mine.
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"Wow, the smell of roses in here has gotten stronger." Matt commented as soon as Colby closed the large door behind them, lifting his chin slightly as he smelled the strong scent of flowers.
It was time to investigate the Maximillian room, which was on the mezzanine; the room that held eight mirrors surrounded by gold that cost way too much and a painting of Empress Carlota, who, according to legend, was there because of those same mirrors, as they were gifts from her husband at the time.
And it was precisely because of her that Y/N was feeling so anxious. From the moment the hotel guides took them to there while showing them all the main haunted rooms in the building, the girl felt strange.
Because Y/N was a medium and was aware of it since she was a child - consequently training her "skill" as she grew up -, her sensations with the supernatural were duplicated and very accurate; Not only could she see, hear and feel the presences, but she could also feel what came with them and the weight of each one.
That's why, on her first trip to the room, she quickly found Carlota, who surprisingly allowed the girl to see her, but Y/N wished she hadn't. Carlota was beautiful, exactly as in her painting, still dressed in classical clothes, but her eyes carried so much anguish. Contrary to the hope of Audrey - their main guide -, Carlota did not appear to have found peace in the afterlife.
But what surprised Y/N, or scared her the most, was the hatred in the ghost's eyes, and strangely, this hatred was directed only at her.
Upon stepping into that room for the second time that night, the girl felt nausea rise from her stomach to her throat, swallowing hard; Her heart raced stupidly fast and the hair on her arms and legs stood up, raising goose bumps on her skin. A weight settled on her shoulders and the back of her neck, making her feel as if any sudden movement would send her straight to the ground.
Her hands shook slightly as her eyes swept the room. She focused her senses better, being able to capture several spirits coming and going from one mirror to another, reminding her of the portals created by them. Y/N felt the pain, sadness, anger, and melancholy of each of the ghosts, her throat becoming dry and her eyes burning with tears. She felt overwhelmed.
"Baby? Hey, what happened?" Matt's soft voice close to her ear woke her from her intense trance, her eyes meeting the blue ones that kept her grounded.
Y/N noticed that the others were a little further away and already in the center of the room, talking to each other while Sam arranged the camera to record the investigation. She was internally grateful that Matt had come to her unnoticed without attracting attention from the others.
"Sorry, I'm fine. Just overwhelmed. This place has a horrible atmosphere." Y/N responded in the same soft tone as her boyfriend, keeping her eyes fixed on his, trying to convey confidence.
"If I'm feeling the burden in these walls, I can only imagine what you're feeling, dove. I promise I'll be by your side the whole time, and if it gets too much, let me know, and we'll leave right away." The boy spoke, taking Y/N's right hand with his left one, squeezing lightly. Y/N smiled in gratitude. She was so lucky to have him with her.
"So Carlota likes compliments and flirting?" Colby's deep voice caught the couple's attention while asking the rhetorical question. Y/N and Matt looked up at the others, seeing Sam already with the camera on and passing the lens along the decorated walls surrounding them.
Matt turned off the light on the switch near the door as previously agreed before they approached the others, ready to start what they needed to do there.
"Hey Carlota, here we have five fine men, but only three are single and available for you." Matt spoke first while settling close to his brothers, his eyes scanning the space completely despite being able to see practically nothing through the darkness.
Y/N followed his action, sweeping her eyes around her and the ghosts there, internally trying to focus only on Carlota's spirit. She kept her right hand intertwined with Matt's, not wanting to let go of his warmth, knowing that he was the only one who could keep her under control in that situation.
"Can you see her, Cole Sear?" Nick asked Y/N, crossing his arms and looking at the girl with a curious gaze, who nodded after rolling her eyes momentarily at the reference to the movie Six Senses, smiling sideways.
Nick was scared to death of watching horror movies, but he loved it when Y/N watched them all and then told him the story.
"I can, but I can also see several other ghosts that probably have nothing to do with the hotel's history and are only here because of the portals. I'm trying to just focus on her."
Colby and Chris started throwing random pick-up lines into thin air, trying to attract the Empress's ghost. Their words made Y/N let out a low laugh, they were ridiculous.
After a significant effort, Y/N finally managed to clear all the ghosts in the room from her mind, being able to see only Carlota. The woman stood a few steps away, her eyes on Colby and Chris as she held an elegant and calm posture, an arrogant smile on her face, probably satisfied with all the attention.
But that changed when she realized that Y/N saw her completely now, her empty eyes going to the girl, a flame of anger and disdain shining behind them, seeming to penetrate Y/N's eyes and run throughout her mind.
The girl's hands flew to her own head almost instantly, pressing down on each side as her body arched slightly forward, a growl escaping her throat as her knees shook, weakened by the sudden pain.
Matt had never moved so fast, his body positioned in front of his girlfriend's as his hands held her arms, which were more tense than ever before, her own fingers tangling in strands of her loose hair, pulling hard while trying to stop the intense pain of the sudden migraine.
"Y/N? Baby, talk to me. What's... What's going on?" Matt spoke in a desperate tone, his eyes going from his girlfriend to the boys repeatedly, hoping they would have some kind of response.
Nick and Chris ran to the two, positioning themselves on either side of Y/N, choosing not to touch her so as not to worsen her overload but showing that they were there for her.
"It must be some spirit that is messing with her, perhaps trying to attack her or, at worst, control her." Colby commented, approaching as well as his eyes traveled around the dark room, looking for any clue as to what it was, even if he couldn't see anything.
Sam lowered the camera, the lens focusing on his feet as he too approached. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, the blonde knew well what it was like to be attacked by spirits, and if he could, he would put an end to what Y/N was feeling at that very moment.
"Matt." Y/N let out in a pained groan, an intense pressure establishing in her right arm, as if something was holding, or rather crushing the region. She lifted her left hand, placing it on Matt's right shoulder while trying to find stability.
With great difficulty, the girl looked to her right from the corner of her eye, catching Carlota there, just a few inches apart from her. Feelings of fury and disgust emanated from her aura as her right hand squeezed Y/N's arm, and although she didn't say anything, the girl knew that that gesture was a request - mandate - for her to get out of there.
Nick and Chris spoke to Sam and Colby in low tones, probably trying to understand the situation and find a solution to reverse it.
"I'm here, honey. I'm right here." Matt whispered repeatedly, bending down slightly to be at the same height as Y/N while holding her hand that was on his shoulder, stroking the skin softly with his fingers.
He felt his breathing quicken in anxiety at the sight of his girl's state, panic wanting to take over his body, but he maintained control, closing his eyes momentarily to compose himself, as he whispered sweet nothings against his girl's ear.
Seconds later, when he saw that Y/N was still moaning and grunting in pain, he took a deep breath before turning around, turning his back to the girl and facing the room. Little did he know that Carlota was right next to him.
"I demand that you cut all effect on Y/N right now. You are not allowed to mess with her." Matt's voice was stern, like never before. His eyes held determination while running around the room, his hands behind him, maintaining contact with his girlfriend's body. "She's not yours!" He growled.
Suddenly, all the pressure on Y/N vanished, and a feeling of relief took over her, as if fresh air had entered her nostrils and filled her lungs, bringing comfort to her body. The girl exhaled sharply, removing her hands from her head slowly, as if expecting the worst.
Y/N straightened her posture, opening her eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light. One of the boys had probably turned it on in the meantime, and the girl mentally thanked whoever had done it, finally being able to see the surroundings better.
The negative and evil energy had left her side, but Carlota was still in the room, Y/N could feel her.
Matt turned abruptly, facing Y/N again, pulling her into his arms as he held her head against his chest, caressing the area carefully.
"You're okay. You're okay." The boy repeated it like a mantra, trying to calm Y/N or himself. He wasn't sure.
Y/N winced at Matt's movement, the pain in her arm intensifying, reminding her that Carlota had almost ripped it off.
“Wait, are you hurt? Where does it hurt, Y/N?” Nick asked after hearing it, finally getting close enough to be able to lightly touch his best friend's shoulder, a worried look decorating his face.
Matt pulled away from Y/N almost instantly, ready to investigate her injury, feeling anger rising through his veins. If he could see and touch ghosts, he would kill Carlota again.
Y/N just raised her right arm, rolling up the sleeve of her jacket with her left hand. Chris, who was on the other side of the girl like a bodyguard, his blue eyes still darting around the room as if expecting something to appear out of nowhere, let a surprised sound escape his lips at the sight.
"Oh my God, Y/N. This is bad." The youngest of the triplets murmured, an expression of discomfort taking over his face as he thought about the pain resulting from the injury.
A handprint was perfectly carved on Y/N's arm. It looked like someone had taken a pencil and ink and drawn in the area. That would definitely turn out purple.
"That's crazy, dude. Does it hurt bad?" Colby asked, taking a few steps closer to get a better view, receiving a nod from the girl, who was still looking at the mark in disbelief.
"When you said you were Lorraine Warren, I didn't think you would perform the entire The Conjuring movie. If I had known, I would have brought a priest and some holy hater." Sam joked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere, as he momentarily turned off the camera.
The blonde made a quick mental note to delete all footage of that disturbing episode, not wanting to expose such a vulnerable moment of his new friend.
Y/N let out a laugh. The ghosts really hated her.
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send me requests or anything at all 🩷💋
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chronicowboy · 1 month
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but when i tried to love him i loved at the wrong time
this is a two for one spec inspired by this post and my long lost love trapped dads
any complaints about this fic can and should be directed to @evankinard who bullied me into writing this for her after i ruined her day with a single dm. love you bby <3
Eddie breaks apart a little the moment Buck disappears from view, lets himself feel the wound in his side as an excuse not to feel the big unwieldy thing unfolding in his chest like a colonising panic. He hadn't wanted to leave him, not after half an hour trapped in that smoky room clinging to each other to ground themselves in the reality they were trapped in, but Buck had made several stubborn and convincing arguments about Christopher before announcing he wouldn't move if Eddie didn't. Eddie had tried, had tried to get Buck out first, Buck who had just found happiness with—with Tommy, Buck who has always deserved to live. But Hen and Chim had come in with the clinical wisdom of paramedics and said a rebar through the abdomen was always going to take priority over a fractured leg.
Now, Eddie is rolled out of a collapsing building, leaving behind Buck—a bird with a broken wing, incapable of moving.
God, the noises Buck had made when he'd dragged himself over to Eddie's side. They'll be haunting him for years, for whatever lifetime he has left. Worse somehow than the first time with an entire engine on top of him. Except this time, Eddie couldn't hold his hand. Not now, but not before either because... Because that was someone else's job now. And like a laugh from the universe, Tommy appears just as Eddie reaches down to put the brakes on the gurney before Hen and Chim can get him into the ambulance.
"Kinard?" Bobby greets him with a grim-faced nod. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard you might need an assist from air support." He shrugs, but the breathlessness in the voice and the way his eyes keep jumping around the gathered 118 like he's only counting the one man not there reveals his nonchalance as the act it is. "Thought I'd swing by."
"Isn't that a conflict of interest?" Chimney asks.
"Fine, so I stole a helicopter again. Sue me for wanting to offer a hand." Tommy's face draws as soon as he stops speaking, and he glances back at the building waiting to swallow Eddie's heart whole. "How is he?"
"Holding in there," Eddie answers, voice tight enough to have Tommy really seeing him for the first time. "Think his bad leg is fractured."
"Shit," Tommy hisses, clenching his fists at his side.
"Yeah," Eddie breathes out. "Can't get himself out because of it. I wouldn't have left him, but—"
"He insisted," Tommy says, something entirely too knowing in his voice and his eyes. Eddie swallows thickly.
"And, well..." He gestures weakly to the rebar in his side, Buck's undershirt, now soaked through with Eddie's blood, wrapped around it as a makeshift bandage.
"Shit, Diaz." Tommy grimaces. "Shouldn't you be getting to the hospital?"
"He's refusing care until Buck is out too," Hen deadpans, pressing a new pad of gauze to his wound a little too firmly for it not to be intentional. Eddie just grits his teeth.
"Of course he is," Tommy murmurs. Eddie is too much of a coward to face up to whatever expression is on Tommy's face when he says it, so instead he focuses on the Incident Commander approaching Bobby.
"Site's been deemed too unstable," he announces. "No more personnel are to enter until we've found a way to stabilise it."
"My..." Bobby calms himself when his voice comes out in a growl. "My man is in there."
"And sending another man in there would be a suicide mission." The Incident Commander grimaces apologetically. "Sorry, Captain. That's an order."
Bobby turns his gaze back to the building, something so tightly drawn in him that it makes Eddie hurt all the worse. He knows without a shadow of a doubt what Bobby's thinking. He can't lose another son to a burning building.
And here, maybe this would be where Eddie runs back into the building and drags Buck out all on his own, maybe this would be where he finally gets to repay the favour for the gravel burn on his back, maybe this is where he'd get to redeem himself from the helplessness he'd felt just lowering Buck down to the ground. Except. There's a rebar in his side. Even with the adrenaline, even with the love... Eddie doesn't think he'd make it three steps before falling to his knees—a prayer in and of itself.
Instead, Eddie turns to look at Tommy. Tommy who is already looking at him, something determined and understanding and loving trapped behind the wildness of his eyes. A beat passes between them, silence saying more than they ever could.
"Bring him back to—" Me. But. Not to me.
Because that's not Eddie's place anymore. Eddie doesn't get to ask that of Buck's boyfriend. Eddie doesn't get to ask that at all. He's no longer the person that will be shaking Buck's pain pills into his hand and fetching him a bottle of water. He's no longer the person that will be wrapping Buck's cast in a bin bag for a shower and listening to him lament about the indignity of it. He's no longer the person that will be pulling Buck out of bed on his worst days to remind him that he's real and valued and loved. No, that's not his job anymore. But, fuck, Tommy's the only better man for the job.
"Bring him back to us," Eddie tells him then, and it feels like he's finally let go of the baton in the relay race, sure Tommy's got a hold of it now. And Tommy looks as wrongfooted by this as Eddie feels, but he nods anyway and grabs Eddie's discarded helmet from his lap, strapping it on.
"Kinard, no one goes in," Bobby warns him. "That's an order."
"You're not my captain anymore." Tommy only smiles and shrugs before sprinting towards the doors.
Bobby curses, but there's relief in it. Hen and Chim just watch him go with something hopeful on their faces. And Eddie. Eddie's eyes start to droop.
"Hey, hey, Eddie." Chim snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting Eddie back into semi-consciousness.
"Eddie, we need to get you to a hospital," Hen says calmly, reaching for the brakes.
"Move me an inch and I rip this rebar out of my side," he says lowly.
"Jesus, anyone ever tell you you're a drama queen?" Chim huffs.
"Yeah." Eddie chokes on his next breath a little. "The man trapped in that building."
A solemn silence settles over them then. They redirect their attention to the doors Tommy had disappeared into, and Hen lays a grounding hand on his shoulder as they wait.
It's not long before Tommy comes stumbling out of the building, looking every bit the action hero Eddie has never gotten to be for Buck what with his soot-stained face and Buck himself slung over his shoulder, splinted leg bouncing against his sternum. Hen and Bobby spring into action immediately, racing to meet them. Chim just unlocks Eddie's gurney and loads him into the ambulance, raising him up just enough to catch a perfect view of Tommy lowering Buck onto his own stretcher with a kiss to his forehead. The ambulance doors close, Chim knocks twice, the sirens begin to whine, and they lurch into motion.
"Did you draw the drama queen straw?" Eddie asks to distract himself from the tenderness of Tommy's kiss.
"Higher ups are a little more serious about conflicts of interest now Buck is officially my brother-in-law," Chim mumbles as he works on getting Eddie's IV in. "But also I'm better acquainted with rebars than Hen, so..."
Eddie huffs a weak laugh as his eyes drift to the ceiling, the clean white of it stinging his eyes.
"Chim?"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone, right?" he chokes out. He doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling, but the sudden silence in the ambulance is as deafening as the siren overhead.
"No," Chim says eventually. "No, it's not."
"But what happens if the person you love..." Here, his voice breaks. An almighty crack right through the middle. It sounds like the building behind them just came crumbling down in his throat. "What happens if someone told them first?" He turns to face Chim's wide eyes. "Should you still tell them?"
"I-I don't know..." Chim opens his mouth a few times, a fish out of water, before he makes a decision. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "But what I do know is." He clears his throat. "If you let a wound like that fester... It'll kill you, Eddie."
"Yeah." Eddie lets his eyes fall shut.
I can feel it already.
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington {Dark}
Read the first part here.
wc: 19.2 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, primal play, mentions of bones breaking, teeth falling, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, murdering insinuation, thoughts about killing, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story in which none of them are dark or disgusting, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession, pegging, threesome, reader is a sadomasochist, Mafia!Eddie Munson
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, after so much planning, the Black Bunny from the Black Dragon mob makes an appearance to take her precious White Rabbit home.
Author's note: You asked for it, you got it. This is the first threesome I ever wrote in my life so please be kind, if you do not like threesomes do not read, and no, reader isn't the masochistic one here.
A huge thank you to the love of my life, @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this, and taking time of her day for it, and correcting so many things in it. I wasn't confident enough this time to simply post this, so she helped me alot, I LOVE U BBY.
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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Run, Rabbit, Run
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.
—--------------------------------------------
The ballroom looks exactly like that last time she saw it, but the perspective now is very different.
She always was at the top of the stairs, looking down at every single person that was willing to participate, to chase after her, to grab her, make her theirs. Pathetic. If only they knew her. If only they wanted her like he does. If only they cared for her like he does. If only they were half of the person he was. 
Eddie.
She giggles at the thought, heads turning to look at her quizzically, only to then gasp as they take a good look, because the tattoo that now lingers on her right arm was enough for them to know who she was. It was enough for everyone in the room to start whispering, to start feeling a chill going down their spine at the mere thought of being in the woods with her. It was enough to make many start to doubt their participation in this year’s Haunting Ground. 
She looked all over, seeing a deer’s head, a plain white face on some, black lace masks, a dog’s leather mask… She snickered when she saw Carver looking at her, his nose completely out of place, not having healed properly. He has balls to be back, she’ll give him that, but she will knock his teeth out today if he dares come between her and this year’s White Rabbit. 
She hummed as she walked to the center of the ballroom, a black dress falling on her body, tight in the upper part while it flowed loosely on the bottom, the length of it only going mid thigh, not reaching her knees. Some black sport shorts cover her underneath, but her feet were completely bare. But the one thing that she was showing off, moving her head side to side, catching everyone’s eyes, gulps being heard all around, was the mask on her face.
A black bunny.
The mask showed her lips, starting from the cheeks and going up to cover the rest of her face. Long black ears went upwards, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, extending her arms towards her back, and holding her hands together for her tattoo to be seen. A Black Dragon. The distinctive mark that shows she belonged to the Boss of the Black Dragon mob. 
And now, everything made sense, everything clicked in everyone’s minds right now. She was going to win, no matter what happens tonight, nobody has the slightest chance. Nobody knew if they should quit immediately, give her the prize on a silver platter, but of course, there were many, mostly men, that wanted revenge. Revenge for wasting their time for three years. Revenge from being hurt and pained for trying to get her. Revenge because they don’t want him to win again. But she was there for a reason.
Because if she was playing, Munson’s Black Bunny, it means that they both wanted the prize.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the top of the stairs. She was waiting. She was already watering at the mouth at the thought of seeing that precious boy. That amazing pretty boy that was covered in freckles, in spots that she wants her tongue to trace. She wants that beautiful face to be covered in sweat, his neck and body full of bruises from the kisses that she wants to give him, mark him, and of course, share him. Oh, how she wants him to be wrecked by him as well. 
She trembles with the thought as her body flushes in anticipation, in the adrenaline, not noticing she was smiling almost maniacally towards the top of the stairs, making everyone eye her up and down once more. She can hardly wait to run her hands through those brown locks, grab onto his scalp, move his head around in any way she pleases… And boy did he sound eager about it as well. She knew about this man, she has known him for a couple of years now, and always found him so pretty, so cute, so angelic looking.
Oh how blind everyone was.
She knew who he really was. She knew he was like her, she knew he was as filthy and evil as her, and she knew Eddie would love him. Eddie will be so happy with him as well. Time can’t pass fast enough, because she has been hypnotized by those honey eyes ever since she met him to know he was the next man to be presented to her as a possible fiancé. The man just looked disgusted as his father talked with hers, but the only thing she could look at was the expanse of his neck, the freckles going down and down into the open collar of his shirt. 
And he was looking at her as well. There was a quick connection, a quick understanding, as a small grin spread on their lips and they were told to go and get to know each other in a private room. And oh man, was he cute. He responded so well when she whispered to him, and he would flinch at the slight touch of her fingertips, a blush on his cheeks appearing as she told him that she had no intention of marrying him, but that she would love to own him. That had sent a shiver down his spine, and when he bit his lip, she knew he was the next one to get. 
Even after she was caught herself, she could only imagine the moments she could spend with him, while Eddie might not be available to do so, and the moments where she could share this sun kissed man with her Demon. She really needed time to go faster because she waited for a whole year for this chase. Cryptic messages were sent to him, to prepare for this trial, and he knew perfectly well what it was, and now knowing that she was going to be a Chaser was the only thing that impulsed him to sign up as the White Rabbit.
Speaking of which,
“Welcome to this year’s Haunting Ground!” Unlike last year, there were fewer cheers this time, and she looked all over to see that many people had left the ballroom, a smile creeping on her lips because of how much fear she provokes in people. That was almost making her feel… excited. 
“Black Bunny, huh.” A woman talks next to her, and she turns around to see her wearing a simple lace eye mask, giving away who she was immediately. The daughter of Tom Holloway, and while he might look like the simple CEO for the New York’s Post, he was also working with the government and some mobs to not let out some news into the light, and covering them with something else that is not as grave, or critical. 
“Holloway.” Heather gives a snicker as she turns to look at her.
“How’s life now that you are someone’s pet?” That made the Black Bunny laugh, giggle, shake her head as if Heather just told the funniest joke in her life, but the other woman was simply looking at her as if she were going insane. Seconds later, her laughter slowly came down, and she leaned her face into Heather’s space.
“I’m far from that Holloway. But since you’re asking, it’s been very… fulfilling.” Heather sends the Black Bunny a disgusted look on her face as she takes a step away but it only elicits a giggle on the Bunny’s part.
“Why are you participating? You got what you wanted, so why not leave this opportunity for someone else?” Heather says and that made something in the Black Bunny snap. How fucking dare she? Why does she fucking think she has a chance? Why does she think that her precious White Rabbit would want her? Or anyone else for that matter? And that’s when the Black Bunny decided something. Something that made her face twist in a way that the baby hairs on Heather’s nape stood on edge at, and she felt her blood going cold as the Black Bunny kept staring at her.
The Black Bunny was not going to let Heather Holloway walk away unscathed. 
Heather Holloway was not even going to be able to walk.
“The rules being said, always remember the small device to call for assistance if injured or if you are trapped or simply want to tap out of the chase.” The Black Bunny’s attention immediately went back towards the stage, her eyes sparkling as she waited, taking a deep breath in as a single spotlight shone at the top of the stairs. “Here is this year’s White Rabbit.”
And a shiver went down her spine as many gasps could be heard through the room. The beauty emanating from this man was inexplicable. She didn’t know what to expect, but she could already feel her wetness sipping through her underwear just at the sight of his body, of his hair that spilled from the mask, from the white rabbit mask that filled just half of his face, and his white ears going upwards.
But oh, what he was wearing. The man was standing, bare feet, with some Arabic Harem see through pants, all flowy in white tulle, hugging his ankles tightly as well as his hips, and the pants had an open slit on the sides of his them, showing off his skin and also, you could see the outline of his underwear, a thong? 
No, a jockstrap. But that wasn’t what caught most people's attention. It was the white tight corset with silver embroidery and pearls that hugged his waist, showing his curves, and it stopped just underneath his pecs, showing his clean shaved chest to the crowd. Coming from the sides, at the top edges of the corset, were two silver straps, going over his shoulders, tightly, and the same see through fabric went all the way down his arms flowing, until they reached the tightness of silver elastic bands onto his wrists.
The man was absolutely beautiful. And he was all hers.
“Oh, what a beauty…” A man on her other side said, his silver horse mask shining with the lights, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel angry at the man, because he wasn’t saying it in a lustful way, he was truly saying how beautiful he was. He was mesmerizing to the eye, and she knew everyone was no longer second guessing if they should indeed participate in the trial. At first many were doubtful because it was her, and there is a big chance that whoever gets in her way will get hurt… But now, seeing this man at the top of the stairs like this, doubt is very present in the room.
Her eyes scanned him, scanned his face, his lips, his eyes that could be seen through the mask’s eye holes. 
Everything about him was just so perfect.
He was such a treasure, so shiny in her eyes that she can hardly believe that at the end of the night she will be able to smear the lip gloss that’s on his lips, make him drool all over himself, make his spent spread on the sheets, maybe her mouth if she wants a taste. 
The freckles were giving him away, people whispering about why he was participating in such a trial, and even more so, be the prize of it. But the answer to all of that should be pretty easy, it should be of common sense knowing the Black Bunny was in the room as one of the hunters. Two and two were adding up in everyone’s minds, and a small smile was painted on her face all the while as she looked up at her ray of sunshine, dressed all in white. 
“Remember, injuring a contestant to the point of death is immediate disqualification and authorities will be called in the spot.” For some reason, the host was looking at her, pointedly, and she could only grin at him, giving a shake of her head. The man looked at the White Rabbit once again before saying, “Run, Rabbit, Run.” 
The lights went off for a few seconds and when they were on again, the White Rabbit was gone. Everyone clapped except for her, eager to start the hunt, and some eager to walk out of it before they were severely injured. The host started guiding everyone out towards the edges of the woods and the Black Bunny was whistling as she walked outside, looking at the all too familiar woods ahead of her. She smiled as she saw the familiar rock to the side, the oak tree that was crooked slightly to the left.
She knew these woods like the back of her hand.
She stood next to Heather Holloway, and on her other side was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty. Unlike Eddie, she wasn’t going to just stand there and take them out. She was going to go for another tactic, one that will make everyone afraid of going in, and she knew it was going to work because people were already looking at her, peeking over the line to watch her every move.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the balcony, seeing the host walking out of it and looking at all the contestants. He gave her one last look, a glance, a warning. What a pain in the ass. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, and if she did, it was surely going to be after this hunt. His arm raised up, gun in hand, and her eyes settled once again towards the woods, a smile appearing on her lips as the adrenaline pumped in her veins. He was so close, so close, and he was hers.
BANG.
A shriek of laughter came out of her lips as she started skipping into the woods and everyone else stood still in horror. She was way too carefree in this. Too confident in herself. Chills ran down everyone’s spine, afraid of going into the woods now because she could be anywhere. She could be behind a tree, on a tree, behind a rock, under it, just plainly anywhere. A few people took a step back from the edge, and slowly started retreating back into the ballroom.
Heather Holloway was not one of those people, amongst others that believed the Black Bunny to be too cocky. Just because she was in the Black Dragon mob, and she was Eddie Munson’s favorite didn’t mean anything. They could still outrun her. Unlike the other times, in which the rules protected her from their attacks, they could hurt her now. But there was also another thing that made people stay in their place. Even if she were cocky, and even if they dared to hurt her, what awaits after doing that was much worse.
They could be subject of Eddie Munson’s torture.
It would be wise to back out. It would be even wiser to just give the White Rabbit to her, but only five people dared to get into the woods, out of the thirty one that were there. These five people that ventured inside were sick and done with the Black Dragon mob. Be it because their businesses failed because of them, or someone was killed by them. If they have to hurt the Black Bunny to get to him, to get him back at all, then so be it.
A man in an owl mask went right, rushing towards the woods as he jumped over boulders, fallen trunks, and his breathing was already heavy. He was scared, really scared, but he recognized who the White Rabbit was. The Emporium this man belonged to was a force to be reckoned with, the wealth the family possesses is immense, and the fact that he can blackmail them with their son was something that he was craving. The millions that could await him from running just a tiny bit, and getting his hands on him.
And poor man, he really was delusional. His face got immediately smashed as two feet collided into it, breaking his nose and front teeth, falling backwards from the impact, dizziness invading his brain as he coughed his teeth out onto the ground, along with his spit. He looked up and the last thing he saw was The Black Bunny, giggling at him as she dangled from a branch. She had waited for him, sitting on that branch, to run by and swing down to strike him at full force. 
She really didn’t intend for him to pass out, only break his teeth maybe, but she might have overdone it. She dropped from the branch with an ‘oof’ sound and she hummed, walking towards the unconscious man and getting the alarm out of his pocket. At least she was nice enough to press the button for assistance. Her head raised up when she heard grunting, somewhere in the woods, but the only female that was in the hunt with her as well, was silent. She knew the other men were going to take eachother out, and having Heather Holloway to herself made her grin wickedly.
She dropped the alarm on top of the man. Maybe she will send him a sorry note later on. Maybe. She turned on her heels and started running again, measuring her breath evenly, and that’s when she saw two men sprawled on the floor as one stood victorious with a branch in his hand. He was breathing heavily and as he turned around, she was in full view of him. It was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty, but she made no move to go at him. 
“I was just after these two.” He says to her and she looks down to see their faces. They were almost smashed in, and gurgles of blood could be heard from their mouths. She looked up at him again.
“They will call the authorities on you. Don’t kill them.” The Black Bunny says softly to the man that was wearing a horse mask. He gave her a small chuckle and shook his head. She knew he wasn’t going to comply with that request. This man’s daughter was kidnapped and killed in front of him by the sons of the White Elephant mob, just out of spite because he had rejected loaning them money from his own company. 
“Holloway went left.” She gave him a final nod, and looked down at the men that were reaching for the assistance button. She walked towards them and snatched each of those devices, the men writhing in despair as they tried to ask for mercy. The Black Bunny threw them across the field and turned to leave the man to do his last business. 
She immediately went left, running back into the woods and then heading north. If she goes diagonally, she will encounter her. The Black Bunny stopped running suddenly as she spotted a small rock on the side, and it was sharp. Very sharp. A smile creeped on her face as she got hold of it in her hand and looked all over it. It wasn’t that big, but it was long, almost like a dagger. 
Heather Holloway was tired of running. There were no signs of the White Rabbit nor the Black Bunny. She was starting to become frustrated, because at least she wanted to try and give some piece of her mind to the cocky Munson slut. She stopped running and started walking now, trying to catch her breath as she kept her senses in complete alert. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how silent everything was. She needed to keep moving, but her sense of direction was completely lost, and that made her nervous.
She heard a twig snap, making her turn around, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Her heart was beating into her chest as she kept walking, fear setting in slowly because everything was just quiet, way too quiet. So she stopped, and tried to sharpen her sense of hearing, trying to listen to the sound of the trees, to the twigs on the floor if they snapped even if a little bit. But there was nothing,absolutely nothing… Until she heard a rustle from underneath a bush that was right next to her.
“I found you~”
The scream that Heather got out of her throat was out of a horror movie. Blood painted the soil red as she fell backwards, pain shooting up her legs as tears started welling up in her eyes. The Black Bunny got out from the bushes with the sharp stone in hand, tainted with the other woman’s blood, a grin on her face from ear to ear. She had cut both of her achilles tendons, just slicing over them completely. 
“WHAT THE FUCK–” Heather yelled as she tried to move her feet but she couldn’t even think anymore, the pain being too unbearable, and her writhing on the floor made the Black Bunny roll her eyes at her as she crouched down to look at her face stained from tears and dirt.
“You’re a drama queen.”
“You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” Heather’s breath was cut off as the sharp end of the rock came in contact with her cheek, and when she looked up, fear trickled all over her body, a cold sweat engulfing her as she saw the most evil eyes, wicked, as they looked at her with widely, threateningly, simply horrifyingly.
“This is what you get for participating, and having the nerve to think that you deserve him.” Heather could only muster a whimpering sound as her tears ran down her face, knowing the damage the Black Bunny had caused, knowing the consequences of her future, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Not anymore. She was breathing heavily as the pain was blurring her vision, consciousness slowly slipping away and The Black Bunny took pity on her, but it was only because she didn't want to be disqualified. She bent down to go into Heather’s pants front pocket, taking the alarm out and pressing on it. 
She looked at Heather as she finally slipped off into unconsciousness. Eddie was going to be so mad at her for this, causing more damage than she should have, but can he blame her? He was very honest with her when he had done the chase himself and how he wanted to kill anyone in his path for her. She scoffed as she looked down at Heather’s feet, knowing they wouldn't be of use any longer, a smirk coming to her face as she ventured into the woods once again, just walking, knowing she was the only one in the game now. 
“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun~” She hummed as she walked by many trees, the corner of her eye seeing the small ‘x’ signs marked on the bark of them, making her smile as she kept a soft tune coming out of her lips. She could basically taste him already, every passing tree letting her know she was slowly reaching him, slowly getting to him.
Once she finally passed the final tree marked with an X, she found a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, the moonlight shone down on his body, his face, his mask as the White Rabbit stood with a smile on his lips. There were no stains, no dirt, no blood on his body, so it meant he didn’t have to run that much because no one actually got near to him. She salivated at how gorgeous he looked under the night’s light, and all she wanted was to mess him up, to ruin him.
“It didn’t take that long.” The White Rabbit says with a soft tone, but she noticed a certain want behind it, a certain desperation, impatient. She chuckled as she took a step forward towards him, her dress moving around as she walked and his gaze followed her silhouette, brown eyes shining at her form.
“Nobody dares to go against me. You should know this.” He gave her a low ‘hm’ in agreement and she was slowly closing the distance, the tension palpable in the air as she took each step. She waited for this for a whole year, planning it with Eddie, making everything go into plan without anyone noticing, without anyone suspecting it. The White Rabbit has the same longing in his face, ready to meet his destiny, his future. And it was a decision that he had made, not one done by his father.
“I do know this, that’s why I trusted you so much with it.” He says in a loving tone, dreamily as the Black Bunny reaches him, just inches away from his body as her body flushed, heat going all over her body at his words. He was so perfect, such a romantic for someone like himself. 
“Are you going to run from me?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. He gives her a grin with a shake of his head. 
“Never from you.” His hands reached up towards his mask, and she held her breath in, containing a gasp at the anticipation of seeing him without it. She was shivering almost, trembling with need, wanting the seconds to go by quicker, but it didn’t matter because the only thing they now had was plenty of time. His fingers touched the bottom of his mask and he finally tugged it upwards, taking it off and throwing it to the side. She sighed at the beauty in front of her. A literal diamond, and he was all hers.
“Steve Harrington… You’re so beautiful.” She saw his face flush, cheeks tinted red as her hand reached up to cup one of them, her thumb rubbing a particular freckle there. Steve raised one of his hands up, pressing it onto the hand that was on his cheek, leaning into the warmth of it. He sighed of relief at her touch, finally having what he had wanted for so long. Ever since he met her almost two years ago, he knew he wanted her to own him, in whichever way possible. So when he heard her bachelors have been going missing, or killed, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t scared, but he was excited to be considered one of them.
Sadness enveloped him when he found out that she had participated in the Haunting Ground behind her father’s back, and was caught by none other than Eddie Munson, the Mafia Boss of the Black Dragon mob. There was no chance for Steve, no way to ever have her the way he wanted to, no way for her to own him the way he wanted to. But he didn’t have to wait for long, because when he received a letter from ‘His father’, he knew it wasn’t actually from him. He knew it was from someone else, and when he saw the plan on paper with a Black Dragon signature at the bottom, he knew.
“Can I see you?” He asks and she gives him a sweet smile unlike what she truly is But he deserved it. He deserved that sight of her. Even if she wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of his mind and soul, she also wanted to care for him like she would a puppy. She let go of his cheek, making his hand drop to his side as she reached towards her mask, pulling it off her face and throwing it away just like he did with his.
You.
“Happy now Stevie?” You smirked up at him and he could only look down at you in pure adoration, in bliss, as if you weren’t really there, as if you were just a figment of his imagination. A small giggle escaped your lips as you looked at him, his brown honey eyes scanning all over you, and your eyes did the same on his body, a hand reaching up to rub against the top of the corset. “This looks so good on you…”
His breathing hitched at that, and you could only grin up at him because like Eddie did with you, and like you did to him, you had studied Steve. You knew what he liked, you knew what he went crazy over, and he was very obvious in those letters that were exchanged of what he desired. You saw his whole body turning red as the jockstrap under his pants became tighter, and you could only salivate at seeing the bulge that was growing bigger each second that passed.
Transvestism: 
Sexual arousal from cross-dressing of the opposite gender.
“Yeah?” Steve’s face was flushed and you noticed the lipgloss on his lips even more now, a very faint hint of red as you could see some eyeliner, very thin, behind his eyelashes that had some mascara on them. It made his eyes pop out even more. Your hand slid up towards his shoulder, pulling him closer to you and your other hand came to rest on his cheek again, making him smile at you. You were just drooling at this point, wetness pooling between your legs. 
“Yeah… Did you follow instructions?” You asked him as his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him and you wanted to moan at the feel of his hardness against your lower belly.
“Feel for yourself.” Steve says in a low tone. Even if he has these feminine attributes, he is still a man, and he is letting you know by his voice, making the heat even more unbearable than before. Your hand left his cheek to glide down his chest, one of your fingertips grazing over a specific freckle that was driving you mad. But your hand kept going its way, touching his waist to then go to his back and lower - that’s when you felt it. Something fluffy, something that you couldn’t help but squish and press forward, a moan escaping his lips instantly and you trembled at the sound.
“Such a good boy…” You say this time as you grip the bunny tail even harder and you start doing small circles with it, pressing it into his body, making his hands grip tighter on your hips as groans are stuck in his throat. He had followed your instructions carefully before the trial. Cleaned himself thoroughly and then started preparing the stretch. He had to rip a hole in his pants to do so because the jockstrap already gave him the opening he needed to follow your orders.
He was wearing a buttplug, and you were already making him see stars with it.
“Do you think Eddie will like me too?” He asks and your eyes sparkle with delight as you let go of his tail buttplug to fully wrap your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, heart beating loudly into your chest from the excitement. 
“Oh, he already loves you baby… As much as I do.” He couldn’t help but smile in delight at your words, melting into your arms as his own wrap around your waist, hands splayed on your back. “You have to say the words Stevie… For how long do you want this?”
His eyes looked for yours, and even in the heat of the moment, even in the situation you were both in and how you got here, the resolution for you two was the same. There is no way you would go back to your past lives. You would be owned, but not caged. It was a very different type of situation than what you both have been through your entire lives, and just like you did, he couldn’t wait to be set free from it all.
“For as long as it lasts.” You let a sigh of relief escape your lips as your face inched closer to his. Steve couldn’t wait for his lipgloss to be smudged by you, so he leaned towards you as well, lips already parting for you. You couldn’t help but take in his scent. Sweet, hints of mint and caramel, and it was just so him. Just like you imagined he would smell like, not at all the person you met two years ago who was wearing a tight black suit with a bitter cologne on.
Your lips slot against his and you two let out a moan at the same time, swallowing it and cherishing them in the depths of your minds. One of your hands finds its way on the back of his neck, running up into his scalp, into those brown locks that he so carefully takes care of. You can taste the strawberry gloss on your tongue as your lips move against his in a soft dance, unlike what you plan to do to him.
And just like Eddie did to you that time, you bite onto Steve’s bottom lip, sharp, and he lets out another moan into your mouth as you feel that copper taste fill your tongue. You pull away from him to look at your work of art as the gloss he was wearing is replaced by your spit mixed with the small bit of blood that came out of his lip. He was almost panting over you and you couldn’t wait to knock the breath right out of his lungs.
A firework was shot in the sky to signal the end of the Haunting Ground. You couldn’t help but smile and run your tongue on Steve’s bottom lip to clean some of the blood off. He was finally yours. The wait was over. 
“Ready to go home pretty boy?”
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Steve’s heart was in his throat as he stood inside the elevator that was going upwards towards his new home. His things were already delivered as he made sure all of his belongings were sent as well as gave his signature on the contract that established that you took full responsibility for him now. He gave his loyalty, soul, mind and body towards the Black Dragon mob. 
He had reapplied the lip gloss that you had smudged previously, and he was still wearing the same attire as he did in the hunt. He was hoping Eddie would like it too, because it wasn’t just you Steve was craving. After he found out you were taken by Eddie Munson, his mind wandered to the fantasy of how you two would act intimately. Was he in control? Were you in control? Did you change it up? For some reason, Steve feels like he was the last piece of the puzzle.
The elevator finally dinged and its doors opened, revealing double dark ones right in front of him. He walked towards them, grabbing onto one of the handles and pulling it down to finally open the door, taking in the environment all around him. It was modern, yet for some reason it felt like a home. It didn’t feel bland at all. He walked in and then closed the door behind him, the dimmed warm lights filled the living room as he took some steps into his new house, into his new life.
“Stevie, baby…” You call him out as you walk down the stairs, having changed into something that knocked Steve’s air right out of his lungs. You had changed into a black latex tube dress that ended at, almost, your inner thighs, barely covering your ass at all. It had cups on the chest, making your breasts more prominent than before, and he was drooling at the sight as the echoing of your heels made him tremble at each step. You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and he now noticed the heavy black makeup on your eyes, the red gloss that was on your lips - he was guessing that everything was planned.
“You look so beautiful.” Steve says to you, making your face flush completely at his words, wetness pooling in your inner thighs and you could already feel it sticking onto your dress as well, because of course, you had to have easy access, so no underwear was always a must in this house. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing your body against his as his hands came to run all over your hips, pulling you closer for his bulge to once again press against you.
“You’re one to talk Steve, god, you’re so pretty…” You leaned up as you pulled his head down towards your face. He thought you were going to kiss him, but instead your mouth moved to the side, going towards his ear. A low breath escaped your lips as you softly whispered to him, a shiver going from the back of his neck, towards the tip of his toes as his heart beat loudly at your words. “And you’re mine.”
Steve was at a loss of words as his cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, feeling heat invade all of his body inside and out. You giggled at his reaction as his bulge twitched against your body. You pulled away from his ear, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He really wanted to kiss you now, but he will always obey your orders. Unless you told him he had free will on his advances, he will let you make all the first moves, but he can express his feelings.
“I want to kiss you…” You hummed at his words, a happy sigh escaping your lips as one of your hands came back to the front to press against his cheek. The fingertip of your thumb caressed, very gently, against his glossy bottom lip, trying to not smudge it away.
“I would love to… But I want him to see you in this too…” And that’s when Steve felt himself freeze. He felt him. He felt his presence as if he were a ghost, an entity, but it was just the power that radiated from his body. He slowly looked up over your shoulder to look towards the open door that led to the dark kitchen. His breathing stopped completely as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of it and there, leaning against the door frame was your owner.
Eddie Munson took a step into the dim light with a small smirk on his lips.
Steve’s heart stopped at the sight before him. Eddie was shirtless, his tattoos showing off all over his torso and arms and he wondered if the back was as inked as the front. His hair was tight into a low ponytail as he took another step towards the two of you. He had black pants on with a leather belt around the hip to keep them in place, bare feet hitting onto the floor below him. You turned around to face him with a smile to your face, your arms not leaving Steve’s shoulders.
“Bunny.” Eddie called out to you and you were almost bouncing in your place as you kept your eyes on him but Eddie’s eyes were still locked with Steve's, who was still frozen in place.
“Look how pretty he got for us Eddie…” You hummed out and Eddie finally stood next to the both of you, and he almost lost control as your eyes and Steve’s looked at him, wide with stars of expectation behind them. Eddie gave you just one look and your arms left Steve’s shoulders. He almost whined at the loss as he gave you one look, his head turning from Eddie only for it to be turned back as a big ringed hand held onto his chin that made Steve’s legs almost tremble as honey eyes clashed into deep brown ones again.
“You were right Bunny… He is very pretty.” Eddie took a step closer to Steve whose face was red from want already. His eyes hazing over with desire, and Eddie could see it. He could see how Steve’s eyelids were becoming heavier as he looked at him. His thumb caressed right below Steve’s bottom lip that made his breathing hitch, a small gasp being heard from him, making Eddie smile victoriously. “I like this on you.”
Steve felt almost overwhelmed already because you two were just invading his space completely. He felt like his breathing was cutting short, feeling as if the walls in the house were getting smaller on him but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. First, he got to taste you. Now, he wants to have a taste of the man that is in front of him. He finally understood perfectly why you had decided to stay with him. 
“And he followed our orders.” You mention as you walk behind Steve, pressing your lower belly against the bunny tail, pushing it forward and making Steve’s cheeks heat up as a moan escapes his lips. It makes him take a step forward towards Eddie, his chest colliding with his. Eddie’s hands catch Steve’s biceps to hold him up as he smirks over his shoulder and towards you who was already grinning at him.
“I think he deserves a reward.” He looked down at the hazy honey eyes again, immediately leaning down with no warning and pressing his lips against Steve’s, getting a surprised gasp from the man followed by a moan as you pressed onto the bunny tail again. Eddie smirked as his eyes stayed half lidded, open just enough to see Steve’s reactions, making the hardness in his pants twitch against Steve’s. He took the opportunity of his moan where he opened his mouth slightly to press his tongue into his mouth, as his hands pressed against his waist, pulling him closer.
Steve felt like he was on fire, and you two were already defiling him, front and back. You were moving the buttplug, rutting into him in small circles, but it was enough for his spongy spot to be rubbed just slightly. He was moaning onto Eddie’s tongue as it almost went to the back of his throat, and how godly Eddie tasted. It was a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, maybe a hint of an afternoon coffee he must have drank waiting for your hunt to be over.
You trailed your lips towards the freckles that were splayed on Steve’s back, your eyes like stars as you slowly started kissing each one as if they were constellations, making Steve shiver as his hands snaked up towards Eddie’s shoulders, finally letting himself go and be guided by his own desire. He wrapped his arms around him, making Eddie chuckle into his mouth at the gesture. Steve definitely was more romantic than you were, and now he understands what you meant when you said you wanted to ruin him. 
Because now he wants to do the same.
“I’m feeling a little left out…” At your voice the two men pulled away, a string of saliva left behind as Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to see you pouting. He knew he was going to see a new side of you tonight, a side that you couldn’t be with him because he wouldn’t allow it and you didn’t complain, but you were very much excited about owning Harrington. You couldn’t help but get giddy at the prospect of all the stuff you wanted to try on him, and Eddie was more than happy to help you choose the best things.
“Oh, we can’t have that. Kiss her Harrington.” Steve immediately takes his arms off Eddie’s shoulders, face completely reddened by the intrusive kiss as he turns around to look at you again. You beam at him as if he were holding the stars for you right now, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his shoulders as he leans down and immediately presses his lips against yours.
You were smirking against the kiss as you felt Eddie’s hands come in between the both of you and Steve’s breath hitched into your mouth as he felt calloused hands, ringed fingers rubbing onto his chest. Your hands went now to cradle Steve’s face, pulling him deeper into you, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he let a moan escape his lips. Eddie smirked behind him, and his fingers rubbed onto one of Steve’s nipples, hardening the bud there as he could feel Steve pressing his ass against his bulge, the buttplug pressing deeper into him.
“He’s such a slut.” You say. You had pulled away from the kiss the moment you felt an even deeper moan coming from Steve and you wanted to see what Eddie was doing to him. 
“I agree.” Eddie suddenly pinches Steve’s hard nipples, and the brown haired boy’s eyes widened with a gasp at the sensation, his whole body on fire as he throws his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. 
“God–” Steve moans out as another roll of Eddie’s fingers press onto one of his nipples. His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, making him look at you. His face flushed a deep red as you were almost glaring at him.
“There’s no god here. Only us.” At your display of dominance, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants, pressing himself harder against Steve. He wasn’t into it if it was done to him, but seeing you doing it to someone else… He finds it too erotic. Steve moans your name, making you smile lovingly at him again.
“And what about me?” Eddie asks Steve as he pinches onto his nipple even harder this time, making Steve hiss.
“Eddie!” It came out as a whine, and you felt Steve’s bulge pressing onto your lower belly. You could feel your wetness falling down your inner thighs as you kept looking at him. Your eyes darted back towards Eddie who had a smirk on his face as Steve was turning into a puddle in between you both.
“Bunny, let’s stop playing.” You giggled in delight as you ripped yourself away from Steve, making the boy whine at the loss of your warm body against his, and then he couldn’t even finish the thought that he was turned around to face Eddie again. Steve’s eyes widened when Eddie bent down slightly to wrap his arm around the back of Steve’s thighs.
“What are you–” And just like that, Steve was lifted up into the air with ease, as if he were a feather despite the fact that he knew he was probably at the same weight as Eddie was. But the long haired man was stronger than he thought as he dangled over Eddie’s shoulder and arm. Eddie was holding him with his arm, pressing against the back of his thighs still so Steve wouldn’t fall. You looked at Steve’s face and you couldn’t help but smile wickedly as you saw the fucked out face that was on display for you. You knew Eddie shirtless was going to rile him up, but making Eddie show him just how strong he was… You knew he was going to go insane.
Sthenolagnia: 
Sexual arousal to muscles and, or, displays of strength.
“Aw Eddie, he already looks like he is going to cum.” You said with a teasing tone as Eddie started going up the stairs and Steve only let out a small whine at your words. He really did look fucked out, and he was getting off just from Eddie’s strength. Suddenly, Steve jerked forward in Eddie’s hold, as he chokes out a moan in surprise, a loud smack vibrating through the home. His left ass cheek was stinging now from Eddie slapping him there. 
“We have a long night ahead of us.” Eddie said and you giggled behind them as he finally reached the top of the stairs without even needing to catch his breath. It made Steve’s dick twitch to not hear a single pant, heavy breathing of some sort, nothing. Proof that Eddie was very strong.
Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you followed Eddie through the hallways of the home. Your hand raised up to caress Steve’s cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and you could swear you heard a small whimper get caught in his throat from your touch. Eddie opened the door to his room, and immediately placed Steve back on his own two feet. He took the opportunity of closeness to place a small kiss on Steve’s right shoulder.
Steve gasped slightly at Eddie’s action and then locked eyes with him. Eddie’s gaze shifted towards the room and Steve decided to finally turn around to take it all in, his eyes widening. An Alaskan king bed was in the middle of the room, black comforters all over, a tall ceiling that had wide windows on the side, black curtains draping over them. His eyes roamed all over to find two doors, one for the walk in closet, and the other for the main bathroom. Candles were over many small tables and dressers that decorated the big room, and he could see the guitars displayed on the wall.Steve’s heart melted a little bit to see that it wasn’t just an empty basic room.
He took a step inside to look at one dresser in particular to find, surprisingly, some art supplies. He smiled when he realized that there’s also a trace of yourself in this room. This wasn’t just a temporary home at all, this was yours and Eddie’s home. This wasn’t just a hollow vessel to keep him locked up. This was his freedom, and he cannot wait to put a piece of him inside of it as well. He felt a kiss on one of his shoulders and he looked to his right to find you smiling up at him.
“Welcome home Stevie…” You said in a sultry tone to him, making his eyes glint towards you, lust clouding his mind again, pushing the soft feelings aside until a later time. He almost jumped when he felt another pair of lips kissing his left shoulder this time, his head turning to see Eddie smirking at him. His lips then dove towards the crook of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him groan at the feeling. You smiled at your partner’s actions, and you moved more towards his front to then lean towards his collarbone, placing kisses all over it, making Steve let a sigh of bliss out of his lips.
Eddie smirked as his tongue started licking along Steve’s pulsepoint and one of his hands went towards one of Steve’s ass cheeks, gripping it tightly, making the brown haired boy gasp through his strangled moans, not wanting them out just yet. Your tongue traced from one freckle to the other, freckles that covered his chest, small ones, big ones, you were obsessed with them. You gasped onto Steve’s skin when you felt Eddie’s hand on your own ass as well. 
Steve suddenly yelped, making Eddie’s head get off the crook of his neck to look down at what you were doing, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your tongue was licking over one of Steve’s nipples in an apologetic manner, and Eddie could only guess that you had bit him. But Eddie could still see the grin that was on your face, a grin he never saw before but he was pretty sure that it was the same one he had whenever he fucked you how he liked.
“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you Stevie? I can feel your dick twitching against me.” You said to him, and Steve only nodded dumbly, looking down towards you with hope in his eyes and you could only smile as your eyes almost widened at how excited you were. You waited one year to finally show your other side, and you were going to not waste a single second of it. 
Your mouth latched onto his other nipple, giving it a few kitten lips, and then you finally let your teeth sink into the flesh of the nub, biting harshly on him as Steve threw his head back with widened eyes as a moan escaped his throat, the grin widening on your lips at the sound.
Eddie chuckled at how dominant you were, but he felt a little bit left out from the action, so his hand lifted up from your ass to land a loud smack against the tightness of your ass, and you let out a strangled moan, letting go of Steve’s nipple to let it fall from your lips. Steve’s head looked down at you and he was surprised to see your eyes half lidded, almost teary. And that’s when Steve understood it, a grin spreading on his lips as he locked eyes with Eddie’s.
SadoMasochism:
Sexual Arousal on causing pain as well as receiving.
Eddie’s hand ran towards your scalp and he suddenly gripped your hair to rip you away from Steve harshly, making you whimper at the pain, a gasp escaping your lips as you tumbled back towards Eddie’s chest. He leaned down towards your ear to give you a small bite on your earlobe and Steve’s face flushed as he watched you both. 
“Now Bunny… How about we take off that pretty dress you’re wearing?” You nodded rapidly at your partner’s orders, not only because he was your master, your owner, even if it were just that. But because he didn’t see you as only a possession, as ‘something’ to control. You both liked the play of it and it seemed Steve liked it too.
Eddie immediately started working on the zipper that was on your back, pulling it all the way down slowly as Steve waited patiently from where he stood in front of you, his hands to himself. Eddie could only smirk as he felt your shiver when his hands started gliding all over your back, and then towards your shoulders, underneath the straps of your dress, to then slide them off as he moved his hands on your arms.
Steve’s breathing stopped as the dress started falling off from your body, Eddie helping to pull it down from how tight it was. Steve could only look at your breasts, noticing some bruises here and there, making him gulp. His dick jumped up at the thought of Eddie roughly devouring you, and all he wanted now was for you to do the same to him. He wanted you to mark his chest, his arms, his neck, his ass, everywhere. Steve needed your mark on him, desperately.
Within a few seconds, you were bare in front of both men, heels coming off as well. You shivered at the cold of the AC hitting against your nipples, hardening them immediately. You stepped away from your dress for Eddie to kick it away. His hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, moving towards your front, making your breathing hitch slightly, and one of his hands moved to your breast, while the other started traveling south.
You sighed a moan out of your mouth when his fingers pinched your nipple, making your body twitch at the feeling. Eddie chuckled against your ear, his other hand reaching your folds. He couldn’t contain his chuckle when he felt just how drenched you were - it was smeared all over your inner thighs, and you moaned when he ran two of his fingers through your slit, reaching your clit. He harshly pressed his digits against your nub, making you whimper this time at the pain and the pleasure of it. 
“Eddie…” You moaned out his name and Steve wanted to reach his hands towards you, but he knew better than to do that when Eddie was in the room. You were still his after all, and everything Steve could do to you was only allowed if Eddie said so.
“Now here is what’s going to happen. We are going to lay down…” As he said this, he guided you backwards and your eyes were still locked on Steve, a wicked grin appearing on your lips as you were manhandled onto the bed, being thrown in the middle of it by Eddie. You landed with a small ‘oof’ sound as you bounced on the mattress, turning to look towards your partner. Eddie’s eyes turned towards Steve, a smirk appearing on his lips. “And you will show me how good you are Harrington…”
“What–”
“Fuck her.” 
Steve’s eyes immediately widened, not fully processing what Eddie was asking of him. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation as you moved to rest on your elbows to be able to look towards Steve. You wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, the poor guy probably wasn’t coming with the expectation of fucking you, but rather getting fucked. You raised your legs, bending your knees to then spread yourself for him, and Steve’s gaze quickly shifted to the wetness between your legs.
“C’mon Steve… I’m waiting.” You moved one hand towards your cunt, using your index and middle finger to form a V-Shape, separating your lips to show yourself to him. 
Steve’s dick bobbed in his jockstrap, and his mind was already fuzzy with the idea of being inside of you, so his hands reached backwards, and there was a small button on his pants, right above where the bunny tail was, securing the hole he had made on them. He popped it open for his pants to fall to the floor immediately, pressing against the fabric with one foot to pop one out of the elastics, doing the same with the other. 
Eddie’s eyes looked all over him, mouth watering as he scanned his body, reaching towards the elastic of the jockstrap, making Steve gasp at the touch. Eddie smirked at the reaction, pulling at the elastic and then let it snap harshly onto the man’s skin, making him whine with a moan at the pain. Steve took the sign and proceeded to take the jockstrap off, having a hard time bending down because of the corset, so he had to crouch to completely take it off. 
Steve stood up and your eyes scanned the length of his dick, eyes widening when you saw that the rumors of Steve Harrington being big were true. You licked your bottom lip as you salivated with the need to taste him, but that can wait for another time. Steve’s hands went to his corset but Eddie was quick to grab onto his wrist, making Steve snap his head towards him with widened eyes.
“Keep that on.” He almost growled and Steve trembled at the dominance of the man, precum already leaking from the pink tip of his dick. He gave Eddie a nod and took a step towards your impatient figure only to be stopped again. “Do not finish inside of her. That’s something only I can do until I say otherwise.” 
At that, Steve couldn’t help but give Eddie a wicked grin, surprising the long haired man.
“Will you finish inside of me as well?” Steve purred and Eddie wanted to laugh at how delighted he was. This man was starving for you, and now he wanted him as well. 
“Only if she lets me.” And that made Steve remember that he is yours, not Eddie’s, turning his focus back to you. You had a smirk on your face as your fingers were rubbing small circles on your clit as you looked at the two men. All their small talk, acting as if you were not in the room, only spiraled you more into the lust that built inside your chest.
Steve walked towards the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the soft mattress as he crawled between your legs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your wet cunt, and he couldn’t help himself as he  leaned his head down, wanting to taste even if just a little bit, only for his hair to be grabbed roughly. He yelped as he was pulled upwards, his back clashing against a chest. Eddie had crawled on bed right behind Steve when he saw the man was about to dive into your cunt, something he had not ordered Steve to do.
“I said fuck her, not eat her out.” Eddie said in his ear, in a growl almost, as he pressed his lips against it. At Eddie’s command, you whipped your head to glare at him over Steve’s shoulder, surprising him as you groaned in displeasure at him. He let go of Steve’s hair, squinting at you as you were defying him for the first time.
“He is mine.” Steve’s body burned at your words and how protective you were being of him. Eddie cannot command everything for Steve, and he has to be respectful to your wishes, but Steve can only guess the punishment that awaits you later for it, and that was making him even harder than before. 
“And you are mine.” Eddie growled back at you and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his eyes. Your hand left your clit instantly, knowing that without his permission you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, your dominance going back and forth, switching on and off depending on the man that talked to you. 
Steve choked on his saliva when he felt a hand engulfing his cock, and he looked down to see Eddie’s tattooed knuckles, slowly, and just barely, moving back and forth on him. Your mouth watered at the scene in front of you, making your legs spread even wider and as you whined, your hips started thrusting upwards in short little jumps, telling the men that they were leaving you aside again. Steve gazed down at you before his eyes moved to look at Eddie.
“Eddie, I want to– Can I?” Eddie smirked at the politeness that Steve has with him, and he pressed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder blade, pushing him forward and the brown haired man got the hint. He crawled two more steps towards your raised hips, and Eddie helped him to line his cock in the slit of your entrance. Steve moaned when he felt the tip dampen with your slick, and you whimpered with the need of more. 
“C’mon big boy, show me what you got. Fuck her like you mean it.” And just like that, Steve’s control snapped at the order, his hands flying to grip onto each side of your waist, making you smile, your upper body hitting the mattress to let Steve hold your hips up. He looked truly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but clench on nothing when you saw both men looking down at you, one dressed in white, the other covered in dark tattoos with black pants.
They were the complete opposites.
Your head fell back as your eyes widened at the stretch. Steve had started pushing forward into you, his nails digging into your skin, his eyes clenched tightly at the feeling. You were tight. How could your pussy be this tight? It was unreal, and Steve’s mind was completely foggy now. He didn’t know what was real and what was not, and the further he sank in, the more he started coming back down to the real world. 
“Fuck–” Steve moaned out and Eddie smirked as he looked at how the two of you were slowly being connected. He had to admit that Steve’s dick was big, and by the look of your expression you were completely loving the feeling of him. Eddie encouraged Steve to move faster by grabbing the bunny tail, the buttplug, and pushing it forward, making Steve’s eyes snap open as a loud moan escaped his lips from the sensation of both of his ends being stimulated. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief how good he was feeling. It was worth the wait, it was definitely worth the wait. Steve kept moving forward thanks to Eddie’s help and he snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and the two of you let out a loud moan as Steve held onto you. Eddie’s hand left Steve’s bunny tail and the latter man let out a sigh of relief, but also of discontent. 
“Move Harrington.” Steve nodded at that, moving his hips backwards, not even letting you have a moment to adjust because that’s just how you liked it. You liked the pain of the stretch. You liked the shift from pain to pleasure. Steve snapped back into you, quick, surprising you as you felt him hit at the very deep of your gut, the slight pain that came with it. 
“Holy shit!” You couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of someone else inside of you, someone else other than your partner, and it feels as if you were finally complete. Steve was something you needed, the piece that was missing between you and Eddie. 
“Does he feel good, baby?” Eddie purred from behind Steve, looking at you over the other man’s shoulder as he saw how he kept moving back and forth, hips snapping against yours, your breasts bouncing in rhythm at the quick pace. You nodded dumbly as your eyes stared towards the ceiling in a hazy state, fluttering as moans slipped out of your lips.
“Fuck, yes, yes– He feels so good, you feel so good Stevie–” You choked on a moan as Steve slowed his pace to pull all the way out, only to slam himself back in in a quick and deep thrust. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe that Eddie got you like this almost every night for a year already and he can’t wait for himself to experience it as well. 
Eddie could only lick his lips as he saw Steve’s dick disappear inside of you, only to reappear again and then repeat that cycle. Your body was bouncing against the movement, and he smirked down at you as your eyes locked with his. His own dick twitched in his pants;he would only be able to hold back for a few more minutes, and he was surprised by Steve’s movements. He did in fact tell him to fuck you like he meant it, and he was doing exactly that. 
“And you, Steve? Does she feel good?” Eddie whispered in his ear, to then kiss just below it and then follow down towards his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, making Steve moan as he nodded, his thrusts not once faltering in movement even if his mind was being overstimulated by the two of you. He was loving Eddie’s attention, but even more the fact that he was watching him fuck you. His dick twitched inside of you as he felt Eddie’s eyes once more on the place that connected you to Steve.
Voyeurism: 
Sexual arousal from watching others while naked or having sex, or being watched.
“She feels good, she feels perfect–” You were staring at both men, moans leaving your mouth as the slapping of skin was heard all around the room, the wetness of your cunt making obscene sounds as well that only made you become even filthier. Your legs were already cramping, helping you to keep your hips up. Eddie chuckled against Steve’s neck, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to start sucking on his skin.
“No.” You sharply said in between your teeth, almost in a hiss through your groans. You felt Steve halt on his movements, slowing down so you could talk and Eddie let go of Steve’s neck as he stared down at you. “Do not mark him.”
“My bad, Bunny.” He was going to respect the ownership status. He was the only one that could mark you, and you were the only one that could mark Steve. His attention was back on Steve with a smirk on his face. “Now I’m curious about how you feel, how you clench, how you tighten around my dick…” 
“W-Wha–?” He couldn’t even finish his answer when he felt Eddie’s hand grip the bunny tail again, but this time he pushed forward and then backwards, just slightly, not letting the buttplug come out yet, but it was enough to make it have a small thrusting motion. A choked moan slipped out of Steve’s lips as his thrusts stopped completely. Eddie growled and he raised his hand to slap Steve’s thigh harshly, ordering him to keep moving. Steve groaned in a whimper as he started following Eddie’s movement on his buttplug and your eyes widened at Steve’s expression.
He looked wrecked. 
You wanted to see more of it, you needed to see more of that face, and you wanted the tears to roll down of his cheeks, to become so overstimulated that he cannot help but scream for mercy. You clenched around Steve and his eyes widened as he felt the burning on his belly beginning to form. It was happening way too quickly for his own liking and he shook his head, trying to move back from you.
“I– I’m sorry, I’m so close–” And you couldn’t help but smile lovingly because Steve had followed instructions. You commanded him to not touch himself for a month, and you knew that was a challenge but now you knew he followed the instructions because of how fast he was already close to cumming. 
You immediately put your upper body back down on the mattress, making Steve slip out of you. He whimpered at the loss of your heat and you sighed of relief as your hips and legs relaxed again. Eddie took this chance for his other arm to wrap around Steve’s front, over his clavicle, Eddie’s hand grasping onto Steve’s opposite shoulder, pressing him tightly against his chest. Eddie’s movements never stopped on Steve’s backplug, making the man whimper and his hands made their way towards Eddie’s forearm for support. 
“Such a good boy for us Steve.” Eddie said in an alluring tone against Steve’s ear, who was moaning at the feeling of his prostate being rubbed on. His dick was bobbing up and down, the increasing sensation of release creeping closer and closer. You quickly moved now, turning to lay down on your stomach, raising your upper body up and coming face to face with Steve’s dick. 
“Want to taste you my sweet boy…” You were grinning as you stuck your tongue out to give Steve a kitten lick at the red leaking tip and Steve almost jerked forward at the sensation. Eddie’s hand that was on his shoulder moved to grip tightly on Steve’s jaw, turning his head to face him. Eddie’s lips clashed against the other man’s as you smirked up towards them, opening your mouth to take Steve into your mouth, your tongue licking all over the head of his dick as Eddie kept pressing onto Steve’s buttplug.
Steve was a moaning mess, his hips bucking back and forth onto the slickness of your tongue and onto the friction of his buttplug. His mouth was invaded by Eddie’s tongue and that’s when the elastic band in his belly snapped, completely, a loud whine escaping into Eddie’s mouth as you let Steve fill your mouth, the taste of him driving you crazy already. It was sweet, not even a tiny bit sour or bitter. 
Eddie pulled away from Steve’s lips to hold him still because his body was jerking at every spurt of cum that left him. He looked down towards you and his own dick wanted to rip out of his jeans as Steve finally relaxed on him and you took your mouth away from him. Steve followed Eddie’s gaze as he breathed heavily and he couldn’t believe his dick twitched when you opened your mouth to show his spent to both men. You closed your mouth to swallow Steve’s cum. 
Eddie immediately reached down to wrap his hand around your neck, making you chuckle in pleasure as he pulled you up, chest coming in contact with Steve’s sweaty one. Eddie instantly pulled you into a deep kiss so he could taste Steve on your lips. The brown haired man shivered at Eddie’s eagerness and his body flushed in heat as he was still panting from how intense his orgasm was just now. 
You moaned into Eddie’s mouth as he swirled his tongue against yours and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness that still lingered there. He pulled away from you and then his hunger got the best of him as both of his hands went towards the front of Steve’s corset, wanting to rip it open, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with the metal clasps. He groaned as he quickly started undoing the last of Steve’s clothing. 
Steve’s eyes widened at how fast Eddie was working on his corset and then he saw how you moved your hands around his waist in order to reach behind him and towards Eddie to help him out. Steve was looking at your face, and you reached up to give him a soft kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t help but notice the remaining taste of him in your mouth, a soft groan escaping him. You started undoing Eddie’s belt, pulling the clasp open to then move onto his button and zipper as he finished undoing Steve’s corset.
Eddie immediately ripped it open, Steve letting out a sigh of relief, not having noticed how tight it had been. By ripping it open, it made the straps of chains on his shoulders slide down. Your hands left Eddie’s waist and you quickly moved away to crawl towards a night table, making Steve whimper at the loss of you. Eddie tugged onto the corset, making Steve’s arms move backwards in order to discard the clothing off, the wide silver elastic bands that pressed on his wrists finally coming off, and letting Eddie discard that piece of clothing to the side as well. 
“On all fours.” Eddie ordered and Steve knew better than to go against that order as he saw you pull a bottle of lube out of the drawer, which made Steve’s softening dick begin to grow hard again. He let out a shaky breath as he let his body fall forward, both hands pressing against the mattress as he presented himself towards Eddie. A blush spread on his cheeks at how vulnerable he must be looking, but that was fine - it was just you and Eddie, no one else. 
You bit your bottom lip as you crawled on the bed to be kneeling next to Steve. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the bunny tail sticking out of Steve’s ass, and you looked at Eddie with excitement written all over your face. Eddie then grabbed onto Steve’s buttplug and slowly turned it, making Steve whimper at the feeling of overstimulation. You lifted the bottle of lube and let a small amount drip down where the plug was connected to Steve’s asshole.
“Relax baby, don’t clench.” You soothed Steve with your soft tone of voice and you could hear him taking in a deep breath before then letting it out. Your hand went towards the small of his back, rubbing small circles on it with your thumb as Eddie twisted the plug a bit more to spread the lube. He then started pulling backwards, and he could see Steve’s rim being stretched as the base of the plug began to show. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” He couldn’t help but feel the stretch of it. He knew that he was fully prepared inside, but his rim had already relaxed into the normal state. Eddie moved slowly, and then when the base of the plug was almost all out, he decided to stay put for a bit, twisting it slightly in order to adjust the rim in a larger size again. You licked your lips at the sight, completely hypnotized by it and how careful Eddie was being. Your heart was beating on your chest because of that action, and you smiled at it.
“You’re doing so good Stevie.” Eddie let out as he began to pull the rest of the plug much easier than before. He smirked knowing that he didn’t need preparation at all because the length of the plug was rather large. He experimented on moving the plug back inside Steve a few times, and he could feel how easy it was. Poor Steve felt himself growing crazy as his dick sprung back into hardness. He needed more. He didn’t want the buttplug. He needed something to go even deeper.
“P-Please…” He moaned out and that was Eddie’s snapping point. He had been patient and careful, and the two of you had had your fun. It was Eddie’s turn. He pulled the buttplug out of Steve, completely, and the other man let out a sigh of frustration. You stared at Eddie as he dropped the plug on the floor and he pulled himself out of the bed to finally rid himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, red from how edged he already was, and you wanted to help him out so badly.
Eddie circled the bed, giving your cheek a soft caress as he passed by and you moaned in delight at that, handing him the bottle of lube. Steve’s eyes widened as he finally saw Eddie’s cock, and he wanted to take him into his mouth really badly. His eyes were teary as he snapped his head back to look at you with puppy dog eyes. 
You understood what he wanted instantly, and you giggled, shaking your head at him.“Later baby.” 
He whined when you forbid him of that right now, but he was going to dutifully do as you say. His eyes went back to Eddie who was getting himself comfortable in the middle of the huge bed, his back resting against the pillows and he was barely laying down. His dick was almost pointing at him from how hard he was and how curved it was. 
“Ride me Harrington.” Steve shivered at the command, and as if his body was taken over by pleasure and lust, he started crawling towards Eddie, his face coming close to his dick and he almost went against what you said. But he closed his eyes,not letting himself be blinded by desire before looking back at Eddie. He crawled over his body, only to be stopped once more by Eddie putting a hand on Steve’s chest.
“W-What?” He asked and the long haired man smirked as he nodded once at him.
“The other way.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, gulping loudly but following orders. He crawled backwards in order to turn around in all fours and then started going back towards Eddie, this time his ass facing him. Eddie licked his lips as Steve’s legs started spreading, his knees opening as he slid closer towards Eddie, finally resting against Eddie’s thighs. Steve heard the bottle of lube being opened and then the coldness hit his asshole again, and he knew it was already going inside of him thanks to the gape the plug created on him.
“Eddie is going to make you feel so good baby.” You cooed at Steve who was blushing your way. You had decided to sit on the bed, one arm behind so it would help you support your body, legs spread again as you rubbed small circles on your clit. 
“Come here big boy.” Eddie had pulled himself forward to press his hands on Steve’s chest in order to make him move backwards. Steve followed, his position changing completely as he helped himself with his hands behind him, on each side of Eddie’s ribs, pressing his feet against the mattress in between the other man’s spread legs, lifting his hips up. Adrenaline rushed all over Steve’s body, knowing that once he started going down, Eddie would start going inside of him.
You bit your lip as you saw Eddie lining his dick on Steve’s entrance as he stroked himself a few times. You saw Steve’s excitement splayed on his face as he let himself go down and his eyes widened towards the ceiling as he felt Eddie’s tip start to stretch the rim of his asshole even more than the buttplug did, and he noticed that Eddie had covered his dick in lube because it was sliding easily inside of him.
“FUCK!” Steve yelled as he kept sinking himself down on Eddie, not wanting to stop, the pain mixing with pleasure as he felt the pressure growing on him the deeper Eddie went. Eddie had to throw his head back onto the pillows, his body growing hotter as pleasure slowly started enveloping his mind.
“Just a bit more Stevie…” You said in a soft reassuring tone and that made Steve nod as he took another deep breath in to let himself sink even further down. It was as if there was no end to Eddie’s dick because he just kept going down, and down, and he was being stretched in places that the buttplug didn’t reach. Steve’s dick was already leaking precum again as it laid on his stomach and you were salivating with the need of tasting him again, but you opted to keep rubbing circles on your clit to keep you on the brink of your climax. Moans escaped your mouth as groans escaped Eddie’s and whimpers escaped Steve’s.
Steve finally slammed himself down, making Eddie bottom out in him and Steve let out a strangled moan, in pain, in pleasure, he didn’t know. Eddie was too deep inside him and he was touching places no man, dildo or plug touched before. The tattooed man leaned upwards to press a kiss on Steve’s back, trying to get him to relax because he had tensed his muscles at the friction. 
“Move when you are ready darling.” He softly said to Steve and that made the other man sigh and completely relax on his hold. He felt safe, secure, and he knew that the pain would go away at some point but he also loved it so he didn’t care if it didn’t. He pressed on his feet for impulse and he raised his hips up, just barely, and moved down again. He groaned at the feeling and then he repeated it as Eddie’s tip and length started rubbing against his prostate.
“Oh god…” His face became flushed as the pleasure started taking over, his belly turning as he started going upwards even further than before and then going back down again. You were amazed by how fast he had adjusted to Eddie. You had to prepare yourself for a whole week to take Eddie into your ass for the first time, and even with that you took some minutes to be able to adjust to him.
Eddie’s hands came to grasp on Steve’s waist as the brown haired boy started moving even faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, throwing it back in pleasure. Steve felt his dick hitting him in his stomach each time he bounced on Eddie, hearing the man groaning behind him as loud degenerated moans started escaping Steve’s lips. These moans were completely different from the ones that he let out when he was fucking you. 
You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face heat up at the sight before you. You saw how Eddie suddenly raised his hips up, putting his weight on his feet and it made Steve stop bouncing as his hips were raised up, Eddie’s dick pushing deep into him. Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eddie chuckle behind him, and that’s when his whole mind was thrown out the window. He didn’t know who he was anymore as Eddie started fucking into him in a brutal pace.
“H-HOLY SH-SHIT!” Steve almost screamed those words as his head was thrown back at how quick Eddie was moving into him, his dick bobbing all the while as he kept himself up for Eddie to keep thrusting freely at his pace, the noises of skin slapping filling the room.
“Oh my god…” Your voice was dry as you looked at how Eddie was fucking into Steve, hungrily, and you could hear him groan, sometimes even moan under Steve. “How does he feel, Eddie?” 
“Fucking amazing.” He said in a growl and he knew he was answering the question he asked Steve minutes ago. He could hear Steve’s choked moans above him and he smirked at the sounds, knowing he was about to make them worse. He impaled himself inside Steve, making the other man moan loudly as his eyes started tearing up from the feeling. He started pulling his hips back down onto the bed, making Steve follow him. Steve was confused because he was feeling good, breathing heavily, turning his head to his side to talk to Eddie.
“What happened?” He asked and Eddie only chuckled.
“Bunny, ride him.” 
Steve’s eyes widened as his head snapped at you who was already getting up on the bed with a smile on your lips, excited and Steve felt like he was going to die right then and there. Your legs spread the farthest of the three of you, planting one foot on each side of Eddie’s hips, your ass facing Steve. You crouched downwards, and you spat on your hand, to then wrap it on Steve’s dick, pumping it a few times.
Steve moaned curses, he could feel Eddie move slightly underneath him as you pumped his dick and he was already dreading feeling you at the same time he felt Eddie. You smirked as you lined the tip of Steve’s dick at your entrance and slowly started sinking down on him, making Steve throw his head back with a silent moan escaping his lips. His breathing completely stopped, not knowing how to take all of the stimulation that his body was suffering. 
“Oh, he feels so good.” You let out as you sank all the way down in order to bottom out. Steve only groaned at the feeling and you didn’t need time to adjust at all, so you immediately started moving up and down on him, quickly changing to a fast pace as you felt the coil in your belly start to turn.
“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Steve was completely gone at this point. Tears started sliding down his cheeks as he felt himself going in and out of you, but thanks to you riding him, the mattress was bouncing, and that made Eddie bounce in and out of him as well. Your arms were thrown backwards because you needed support. One of them landed on Eddie’s shoulder, and you angled your upper body to the side so your other arm could wrap around Steve’s shoulders. 
You started twisting your hips in a circle motion, making Steve see stars, and he had realized he had access to your right nipple. In order to give you more pleasure, he latched his mouth onto it, gently biting onto the nub and pulling on it. You moaned loudly, your moving completely stopping at the feeling of your nipple being played with. You heard a loud groan beneath you and you knew Eddie had grown impatient.
“C’mon.” He raised his hips up forcefully, this time a little less than before, making Steve and you follow the movement, and then Eddie started thrusting into Steve once again and that made Steve go into you at the same pace that Eddie was fucking into him. You moaned loudly as you pinched your eyebrows together at the sensation, Steve never leaving your nipple as he kept sucking and biting onto it. 
“Oh this feels so fucking good, holy shit.” You couldn’t help but express how amazing you were feeling. You couldn’t help but love the pace of it, and how good Steve’s dick was hitting your g-spot. Steve was a moaning mess beneath you, but he wanted to make you cum, at least help you with something. His belly was burning but yours was even more heated.
“Is Bunny going to cum?” Eddie teasingly said below the both of you, but he was trying to hold back on his own groans, his own moans, because everything was too erotic right now. Your moans mixed with Steve’s was just too pornographic. Steve whimpered when he felt you clench around his dick and you nodded dumbly as you pinched your eyes together. Eddie’s hands traveled from Steve’s waist towards yours and you started moving as well on Steve, trying to chase your orgasm.
The different paces were making Steve cry in pleasure. You were clenching on him as you bounced on your quick pace while Eddie was pounding harshly and rapidly underneath him. You kept going until finally you felt your belly turn as the climax was nearing closer and closer, your eyes going to the back of your head and Steve took this chance to bite onto your nipple again. That was your breaking point.
“FUCK!” Your walls clenched tightly as your hold on Steve grew tighter, and your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as your legs trembled at your intense orgasm. Steve let go of your nipple to let out a loud moan, almost a cry of pleasure at the feeling, and Eddie halted his movements, finally huffing at how much he had moved in the past few minutes. 
You twitched while on top of Steve, slowing your movements as you rode the last bit of your orgasm, breathing heavily as your back sticky  with sweat, mixing with Steve’s own sweaty chest. Steve was sandwiched between you and Eddie and he was heaving for breath, moving slightly underneath you so he could take more oxygen into his lungs. You got the hint and pushed yourself up, letting Steve’s dick slip out of you again, making him wince at the feeling. Your legs were wobbly as you crawled away, and you were trying to regain your breath for the next part of your night. The part that excited you the most, as well as Eddie.
“You have to move darling. How do you want him?” Steve frowned at that, his chest going up and down until his attention snapped towards the clinking of some metal and leather. His eyes widened as he stared at what you were holding in your hands with a smile on your face as you still tried to catch your breath. 
“On his back, head hanging off the edge. I want to see his pretty face as I wreck him.” You could see Steve’s face blushing a deep red in complete need as he heard your words. You smirked at him as you saw how the mascara stained his cheeks. You wanted to be the cause of those tears now, and you wanted to see it.  “You want me to ruin you baby?” 
And Steve nodded desperately.
Masochism: 
Sexual arousal from pain, non life-threatening.
Eddie urged Steve to move, and the man above him got up on the bed, Eddie slowly slipping out of his asshole, making Steve whine at the loss of friction and stretch. He stood up and his legs almost gave out before Eddie immediately sat up to grab the back of his thighs to prevent him from falling down. Even if it were on a bed, he could fall back towards the headboard. Steve let himself fall on his knees and you could see how cock drunk he looked as you started putting the strap on, on yourself. 
Steve crawled towards you and your eyes widened as he took his tongue out towards the black tip of the dildo that came with the strap. He kitten licked at the fake slit of the head of it, and then took it into his mouth, letting his saliva start coating the silicone. You smirked as your eyes turned dark and Eddie saw the shift in yourself. Your hand shot up to grab onto Steve’s hair and he whimpered at the sudden pain. 
“What a cock drunk slut.” You hissed out and Steve whined at the degradation as you pushed your hips forward for him to take more of the silicone dick into his mouth, pushing his head further into it by his hair. 
“You know how to pick them.” You hummed at Eddie’s words and your hips slammed forward with force, Steve’s eyes widening as you didn’t let go of his hair and you started ramming your fake cock into his mouth, making his saliva drip down onto the comforter. You heard Steve gag and you grinned wickedly as he looked up at you with tears streaming down his face. 
“Look at his face Eddie.” Following your words, Eddie stood up from the bed, walking to stand next to you at the edge of the bed and his eyes widened at the beauty below him. He couldn’t see Steve’s face before, and now that he can see it, he realized how close he is to finishing, feeling his dick twitch and jump slightly. You grabbed both sides of Steve’s head and, in order to make a show for Eddie, you started pistoning your hips as you pushed Steve into you, making the tip of your silicone cock rub at the back of his throat repeatedly.
Steve gagged as gurgling moans were heard in the room, fresh tears running down his eyes as he tried to keep breathing through his nose but it was becoming too much. Yet, his dick was in desperate need for more. He needed more. The pain was just pleasure for him, and he wanted to be used, he wanted to be ruined, he wanted to be wrecked, and you and Eddie were making sure that he felt that way. 
“Jesus fuck. Get on your back Harrington.” Eddie ordered desperately and you giggled at how needy he sounded, grabbing onto Steve’s hair to pull him away from you. When your fake cock left his mouth, the poor man took a deep breath in to get oxygen back into his lungs. You looked down at how well he coated the silicone with his saliva, but you wanted to make sure that it remained pleasurable so you urged Steve to get on his back as you looked for the bottle of lube at the edge of the bed. 
Steve was panting, his shaft screaming for the need of release again. He laid back, looking at the ceiling and then Eddie’s face came into view as he looked down at him. Eddie’s hands came to rest behind Steve’s neck, pulling him a little more towards the edge and Steve helped him by scooting slightly in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie didn’t drop his head yet, knowing that you wanted to see Steve’s face first.
You opened the bottle of lube and squirted a nice amount of it onto the silicone, smothering it so it was nicely coated. You licked your lips in anticipation as you threw the bottle away and you crawled on the bed towards Steve, getting in between his spread legs. You smiled when you saw Eddie grinning at you as he held Steve’s head up for you to look when you finally wreck him.
“Ready?” You ask the man below you and he quickly nodded, his hips moving slightly with need and you bit your bottom lip as you put one of your hands behind his left knee and pulled it up to help him spread even more for you, while your free hand got hold of your fake dick, putting the tip at the already stretched rim of his hole. 
Steve frowned in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you started pushing the head in slowly, driving your hips forward, your other hand grabbing the back of his other knee and pushing it upwards like the other. How could it feel so good? Was it because it was you? Was it because it was his owner taking him? He didn’t know, but everything just felt too good, and he knew he was defiled now. This was his now, his future, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“M-More, please, please…” He moaned desperately and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he listened. You smirked as you remembered what Eddie does to you when you ask something like that, so, you copied him. Your hips immediately slammed forward, and you knew he could take it. It was different from pussy, but he was already stretched, so the pain was not even going to be there. He cried in pleasure as you bottomed out in him, new tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you.
Your fingers dipped harshly into his skin as you started moving your hips back to then slam back in, a yelp coming out of his lips. You started gaining rhythm, moving in and out of him at a normal pace and you looked down at his face - it was love at first sight. He looked drunk, tears running down his face, his eyelids stopping half way, and you knew that his mind and all his rational thoughts were completely gone. 
That made your hips start moving  quicker against him, the slapping on skin and the clinking of the strap filling the room. 
“Oh Eddie, he is so pretty, so fucking beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting me have him, thank you.” Your mind was foggy with desire, looking at how wrecked and red Steve’s face was as he moaned out your name over and over in a prayer. You looked at where your bodies joined, his dick jumping up and down at the movement of your thrusts. Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes showing need and desire. He understood. He dropped Steve’s head, letting it hang on the edge of it and Steve smiled as he came face to face with Eddie’s dick once again.
“Can I?” Steve asked and Eddie looked up at you. You smiled and nodded your head as Eddie grabbed his shaft, grinning as he crouched slightly in order to aim it towards Steve’s mouth. He had opened it already, sticking his tongue out so Eddie could fit it into his mouth as easily as possible. One of Eddie’s hands landed on Steve’s chest as the head of his cock was engulfed into the other man’s mouth. 
“I won’t go slow on you.” And Steve knew that. Eddie wasn’t like you at all. Eddie was a full on sadist, while Steve was the complete opposite and you were the mix of the two. That’s why Steve fits perfectly into this new equation, into this new puzzle, into this new partnership, relationship. He didn’t care what the label was, the only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to leave you or Eddie any time soon. 
Your pace quickened when Eddie started going deeper into Steve’s throat and his thighs were grabbed by Steve’s hands to have some leverage for him to not move forward thanks to your thrusts. Eddie closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt Steve’s throat opening easily thanks to the position he was in, a heavy groan vibrating from the depth of his chest. He was close, he really was. Looking at you thrusting into Steve while he throat fucks him was starting to become his tipping point. 
He drove his hips backwards and back into Steve’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans sending shocks of pleasure all over his body. You bit your lip as you looked how deep Eddie was going into Steve’s throat, his pace starting to pick up and Steve’s saliva started making him gurgle around Eddie’s cock. You slammed your hips forward, diving into Steve, making him whimper around Eddie who let out a huff at the feeling. You stayed there and started grinding your hips against Steve’s, rubbing against his prostate back and forth.
He was so close, Steve was so close, and Eddie needed more. His hips started thrusting into Steve’s mouth more forcefully, making him gag slightly until he recovered and started breathing through his nose in sync with Eddie's movements. You chuckled as you let go of one of Steve’s legs, spitting into it so you could wrap it around Steve’s hardened dick. His eyes shot open for a second at the surprise of it, only to then close them as he felt you start to move your hips back and forth again, your hand following the rhythm of it making him moan even more around Eddie’s cock.
“Kiss me baby, please–” You begged Eddie, moving forward as you kept gliding your hand up and down on Steve’s shaft, his precum and your saliva mixing to let you move smoothly on him. Eddie grinned at you as he leaned forward, his other hand pressing onto the bed to keep himself up as his hips kept ramming into Steve’s throat. Your hips slowed down into deep shallow thrusts, making Steve cry in a loud whine every time you slammed yourself into him. 
Eddie finally clashed his lips against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, pussy clenching on nothing at all as you both went in and out of Steve Harrington. You could feel yourself having trouble thrusting in and out as easily as before because Steve was most likely clenching as he neared his climax. Your hand moved faster as Eddie bit your bottom lip, making you his in delight, feeling a copper taste fill your mouth. He pulls away from you to look down at Steve’s throat, seeing himself going in and out, and he pulls away from him, slipping his cock out of his mouth.
A choked sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the blood completely up in his head making him dizzy and the feeling of his orgasm  even more intense. He felt like he was going to explode as he bounced against your thrusts, moving quicker this time. Eddie’s hands wrapped against behind Steve’s head and he pulled him up so you could see his face again.
“Look at him Bunny… Look how broken he is.” Eddie said as he looked down at Steve’s face, a whine escaping the other man’s throat as your hand started moving in a rapid motion and the tip of the silicone dick started hitting his prostate repeatedly. 
“You’re going to cum for me, pretty boy? Let me see you.” And that was all it took for Steve to moan out your name loudly, a cry, a thank you, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and onto his belly, some reaching as far as  his chest. You felt him drip down on your hand as you halted your movements because it became hard to thrust into him from how hard he was clenching on himself. 
He didn’t know for how long his orgasm lasted, but he felt drained, completely spent . When his body finally lost its tension and he let out a huff of breath, that’s when you pulled out, a whimper escaping Steve’s lips. He felt empty, clenching on nothing, knowing there was a big gape from his once small hole, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His throat hurt from how hard Eddie had fucked him there, but that’s when he realized that Eddie didn’t finish. He opened his eyes to look up at the man that was still holding him up, with a smirk to his face. 
“What about you?” Steve says in a hoarse voice. He heard clinking on the bed and he was assuming that you were taking off the strap from yourself. Eddie chuckled and helped Steve to sit up on the bed, a wince escaping Steve’s lips, already feeling his bottom half hurting and sore. 
“On your knees, floor. The both of you.” Eddie replied and you looked at Steve with a smile to your face as you rushed to kneel in front of Eddie. Steve was surprised at how quick you recovered from what happened but he guessed your stamina grew stronger after a year of being with this man. He winced again when he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and stood up on wobbly knees. He was definitely fucked out, but he wants to make Eddie finish, he wants to taste him.
So Steve kneeled down next to you, smiling up at Eddie in the same manner that you were. Eddie had his dick right in front of the both of you and you were the first to make a move. You leaned forward to run your tongue along the shaft on one side and Steve took the hint almost instantly, copying your movement for on the other side. You two ran your tongues back and forth on his dick, slurping sounds filling the room with a few of Eddie’s groans. 
Steve took the chance to glide his tongue further down, licking at the spot in between his balls and cock, to then completely swipe his tongue against his ballsack, making Eddie hiss. You wrapped his dick with your hand, moving back and forth as Steve started sucking on one of his balls, his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound every time he pulled away. You smirked at Steve’s action and licked your lips as you moved your head towards Eddie’s inner thigh and bit down onto his flesh.
That made Eddie come close to the edge.
“Tongues out.” He commanded and you two knew exactly that you had to stay still. Steve smiled at you as he pressed his face against yours, cheek to cheek, and the two of you were looking up at Eddie, tongues out, waiting for him to reward you both. Eddie moaned into his throat at the sight as he started pumping his dick with his own hand. This night was something that was planned for a year, and Steve had exceeded his expectations completely. He was going to have fun with the boy when you were on a mission or a meeting. That is if you let him, of course.
Eddie’s face twitched as his movements became desperate for release and his hips bucked into his hand once and twice, and then strings of cum started shooting out, coating your face, tongue as well as Steve. Eddie never came this hard, he had to keep himself from doing so the whole night, and he almost busted when he was inside of Steve. He somehow managed to not do so, so a lot came out but you two weren’t displeased by it, quite the opposite.
Eddie saw how the two of you opened your eyes and then looked at each other. Steve leaned forward to catch your tongue with his, smearing Eddie’s cum between the both of you, to then finally connecting his lips with yours, tongues dancing with saliva and Eddie. You both heard a chuckle above you and pulled away only to find Eddie smiling at the two of you.
“Aren’t you two so pretty?” You giggled alongside Steve and the lust that was in the room finally came to an end, at least for the night. Steve’s laughter stopped as he winced in disgust, looking down at himself, seeing his sweat and cum mixed together. You smiled at him, getting up from the floor and getting hold of his hands to help him up, making him hiss at the pain of his legs and bottom half.
“Time to shower and to take care of you, my beautiful boy.”
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Eddie was smoking as he laid his back against the headboard of his bed, damp hair falling over his shoulders. He had showered with the both of you and quickly ran back to the room to change the comforters into new ones while you ran a bath for Steve to help him soothe his sore muscles and clean him from all the lube that was used on him. 
You stumbled into the room, giggling with your arm wrapped around Steve’s, both of you in white robes, a smile never leaving Steve’s lips as you helped him walk on steady feet. You looked up to see Eddie in the center of the bed and smiled widely at him.
“Well you two are having fun so it seems.” Eddie commented as he took a deep swig of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his lips and towards the tall ceiling. You rolled your eyes at him as you helped Steve get into bed on one side, a wince escaping his lips as his bottom touches the mattress. Eddie’s hand immediately reached forward to rub on Steve’s back, motioning him to scoot closer to him. 
Steve was surprised by the intimate gesture, but followed his guidance, hissing as he scooted closer to lay on Eddie’s chest as he cuddled up to him. Eddie’s hand immediately went to the small of Steve’s back, running soothing circles against the skin. 
“Don’t be so jealous about it.” You said and Eddie scoffed at that. Steve couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to be this carefree with the two of you after what you two had done to him. He trusted you both more than he ever trusted his father–
“Oh!” Steve sat up as he remembered something, earning him a grimace of pain in his features. You rushed to his side to see if there was anything wrong with him but he quickly regained his composure and looked at you. “Did they bring up the black bag I mentioned?” He asked, and you tilted your head, nodding at him and walking towards the walk-in closet that was in the room. Eddie was confused as he saw how you walked back in with what looked like a school bag. 
“Are we learning the ABC’s today?” Eddie asked with a snicker and Steve only rolled his eyes at him as you handed the bag to him. 
“I didn’t want to catch any suspicions with it, so I covered it up as a normal sleepover bag.” He took out a pair of pajamas that perfectly hid a black folder that nestled inside. He took it out, throwing the bag and clothes to the floor and handing the folder to Eddie. The long haired man raised an eyebrow at it, putting the cigarette in his lips as he took the folder in his hands and laid it on his lap. He opened it to start reading the content of it, a smirk slowly forming on Steve’s face. 
Eddie grabbed onto the cigarette again to finally let out a delighted laugh.
“You gave me your father’s clients. People I can blackmail. The rights to several bank accounts and companies. You know this will destroy the Harrington Emporium, right?” He asked but he knew the answer. You were giggling with excitement as you rushed to the other side of Eddie to take a peek of the list that was on his lap. 
“My father does not deserve the power that he has… You on the other hand…” Steve spoke in a sultry tone as he leaned again towards Eddie, placing a soft kiss against his chest, and your eyes were looking at Steve with adoration and excitement.
“Now Stevie… Don’t forget you are mine.” Steve chuckled at that as you leaned forward, right above Eddie’s chest with a pout on your lips. He leaned towards you to press a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a nod of his head. You two heard a throat clearing and you turned your heads to look at Eddie glaring down. You giggled and pressed a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and he let out a hum of contentment at it.
When you pulled away he looked at Steve and he copied your movement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. When the two of them pulled away, Eddie had a sick grin to his face, and he realized that he now had it all. He had the power, he had the daughter and son of the biggest mob families in the district, and now the three of you would live together. And he knew Steve was good with bribery pacts, so he was going to be useful to Eddie in that sense.
Of course, there were feelings inside of each of you that were too complicated to put into words, so you all let it be as it is, and that was good enough. Eddie got the power, but you and Steve finally got the freedom you so desired. The freedom you two have craved since you were kids. You were owned, but not caged. You didn’t let people make decisions for you, and no one can tell you what to do now… Except intimately.
"Eddie~" You whined at him, making him chuckle as he turned to face you.
"Yes?"
"I didn't get to have your dick tonight…" You were pouting at him, Eddie shaking his head as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. Steve giggled at your actions, only for him to now look at Eddie with a serious look on his face, catching the other man's attention.
"Can I finish inside of Bunny next time?" He dared to ask and Eddie chuckled darkly as he took another swig of his almost finished cigarette.
"I'll think about it, Pretty Rabbit. We just had a few things planned first, but they can wait for a while now that you're here with us. We will just postpone them for later on." At that Steve's head tilted to the side in confusion, looking towards you for answers. You giggled at his confused frown as you started talking while cuddling against Eddie's side.
"Eddie has all this new power and actions, and he wants the lineage of it to keep being… Munson." You softly said as images start jumping in your head, growing excited for it. Steve's eyes widened as he looked at Eddie for confirmation, who was already looking down at Steve with a smirk to his face.
"I need an heir."
Bang, bang, bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.
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Reblogs help artists to engage even more in this platform, only liking does not do much BUT I DO APPRECIATE IT.
a/n: well that was one hell of a ride, so I hope you enjoyed that filth!
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
Taglist: @ghost-proofbaby @munson-blurbs @theflowerrooms @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @xxhellfiregirlxx @hellfirefiend @corrodedcoffincumslut @pastel-pillows
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wishesunderthestars · 7 months
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Halloween Project // Snippet
Pairings: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader x Vampire!Jungkook
Summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn't simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook's sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.
Genre: fluff, angst
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Outside, the world was dark and ominous. Trees lurched and bent under the force of the wind, its strength was enough to uproot some smaller and more frail ones. The rain bounced off your cloak and thunder boomed overhead. You shielded your lantern underneath your cloak and, with your boots sinking into the wet earth, moved carefully towards where you had heard the sound. At first, you didn't see it in the darkness but when your eyes adjusted, you noticed the outline of the crumbled figure underneath the window.
The creature was small and it was shivering, probably both by the cold and the fear of the storm. You approached slowly, trying to seem non-threatening. It was a small bat, one of its wings bent at a weird angle and the other hiding its face.
"Hello, little guy," you said, sending some of your energy to the bat to sooth it. The wind swept your voice away but you still tried. "I'm going to have to pick you up and take you inside. You can't stay out here in the storm."
With a short incantation, you enchanted the lantern to float in place and slid one hand underneath the bat's small form, covering it gently with your other hand. It struggled a little but settled soon. By touch, you understood two things. It wasn't a normal bat but, in your hands, you held a vampire. And it was a very young one.
"I'm going to take care of you," you promised, cradling the vampire close to your chest. "You don't have to be afraid."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨🎃୧ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨🎃୧ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨🎃୧ ⋆ ˚。⋆
The story is going to be around 20-25k words and divided in three chapters. Originally, the plan was for it to be finished by the end of October and be posted as an one-shot but that wasn't possible unfortunately. Let me know how it sounds!! I would love some feedback 🧡🧡🧡
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ailithnight · 1 year
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A fic based on this prompt by @chaoswarfare that I had originally put in the reblogs, but decided to move to its own post since I've got some ideas to continue it. No promises on this ever being a completed fic, but I'll try.
A King in Arkham
Listless eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling; their owner blinking slowly from his place, lying nearly motionless on a thin mattress supported by a metal shelf held to the wall by thick black chains. His face is blank, not sad nor angry nor despairing like so many others in this cold and lonesome place. No, his expression is empty, as though there is simply nothing to feel.
Bruises and scratches and even a couple very deep cuts litter a small body. Were anyone watching, they'd see a new one appear as if by magic across a gaunt cheek. Even as blood begins weeping from the slash, not a single emotion flits across the face. Not even a flinch.
Tomorrow, doctors will assume the patient cut himself. They will search his cell, again, and find no weapon. They will search his body and find not so much as a fingernail capable of creating the mark. They will check the security feed and find, as always, that the moment of injury glitches; one second no cut, the next fresh blood. They will try to force the patient to admit self harm, but he will remain silent.
When the door to his cell swings open with a buzz and a clang, echoed by every other cell in the building, the blank faced boy with dull eyes doesn't move. It's the 6th time this month, and the 13th since arriving 3 months ago.
When the sounds of screams and rioting grate on sensitive ears, he merely sighs, the first hint of feeling flashing across his face in the form of a minute second of frustration before blankness returns. When a pair of escaping patients rush past, one stopping to ask if he's coming, he remains unresponsive.
"Leave him! Kid never tries to escape. He's to far gone."
The kid in question feels his eyebrow twitch. He's not 'gone' anywhere, thank you very much. There's just no point. Nowhere to go. No one to help him; to understand that he's not crazy, just haunted. At least, no one who won't turn him into a monster. A horrible, world destroying, viscious monster.
Besides, Arkham's not too bad. At least it isn't a GIW lab. And his rogues have even started showing up less and less since he was sent here! Though maybe that has less to do with Arkham or Gotham and more to do with the kid's utter refusal to even defend himself.
"Now come on before Bats start showing up and put this place on lockdown."
A black form with a red head drops from above, just barely within the kid's peripheral vision. A brief moment of recognition and even something adjacent to interest flickers in blue eyes.
"Bats like me, perchance?"
.
Red Hood was assisting containment with an Arkham breakout. There had been a lot of them in the last few months and Batman was getting grey hairs trying to figure out why. No one in particular was even trying to break out. No one could be pinned for the inciting incident. Just randomly, at any point in the day, the automatic locks would spazz out and everyone would be released.
So the big bad Bat had called all hands on deck, requesting at least one vigilante be at or near Arkham at all times, hoping to at least keep most of the big fish in their cages while they tried to figure out what the hell was going on. And Jason had graciously agreed to help. So here he was, at 3am on a Saturday morning; assisting guards in keep inmates corralled; keeping any eye out for any maximum security escapees.
With none spotted so far, and the people below him literally admitting that they're giving up hope when the Bats arrive, Jason figured he might as well see if a bit of scare tactic will convince them to go back to bed willingly.
"Bats like me, perchance?" The would be escapees in front of him startle and whip around.
"Red Hood?"
"The one and only." Jason shifts to not so subtlely place a hand on his weapons. "Now why don't you 2 just go on back to your rooms and we can forget this little infraction. I won't even tell the guards to write up a discipline slip." The two inmates eye him, then his guns, then each other warily. Finally, they both raise their hands in surrender and begin walking back to their cells.
Jason permits himself a quiet chuckle, much to low to be picked up by the modulator. As he turns back to grapple up to his bird's eye view in the rafters, his eyes catch sight of the inmate who apparently doesn't try to escape. For just a moment, green swamps his vision as Red Hood registers the sight in front of him.
He almost steps in to the cell before a harsh buzz sounds and cell doors clang shut again. An intercom crackles to life announcing the effective lockdown, instructing guards to begin escorting patients back to their cells, cataloging each attempted escapee for future disciplinary measures.
Batman's voice sounds out over comms.
Not a single inmate made it past the main gate. Good job Hood.
Jason seethes for moment longer in front of the cell before biting out his question on the main channel.
What the hell is a kid doing in Arkham!?
A strangled sound makes it through the feed and Nightwing responds, strained.
What?
A KID! Can't be older than 15. In cell... 26B. Looking rather roughed up, I might add. Since why does Arkham even accept minors?
Oracle responds.
Pulling records right now.
Jason eyes the kid, who seems to be entirely unfazed by Red Hood discussing his imprisonment 8 feet away from him. Actually, unfazed is the wrong word. Apathetic is better. Entirely emotionless. Green threatens Jason's vision again as he ponders the potential reasons for the look of resigned desolation on a face so young.
Looks like he was transferred over from a psych ward in Illinois 3 months ago. Ward of the State. File says self-destructive behavior. Apparently he picks up unexplainable injuries and claims ghosts gave them to him.
That still doesn't explain why they sent him to Arkham!
Batman's voice filters back in.
Hood, pull out.
Jason has to force himself to keep his voice down.
WHAT!? I'M NOT LEAVING A KID HERE!
It's almost 4am. Red Robin is on route to relieve you.
I AM NOT LEAVING A 15 YEAR OLD IN ARKHAM!
We will be investigating this further.
15! YOU KNOW, THE SAME AGE I WAS WHEN YOU LET ME DIE IN THAT FUCKING WAREHOUSE.
Jason almost regrets the statement as he here's Dick's stuttered breath. But it seems the kid might have heard him and something about the statement seems to catch his attention.
He actually turns his head to look quizzically at Jason. The expression only lasts a couple seconds before slipping back into blank neutrality as he turns back to the ceiling.
Batman's voice grinds in his ears, an edge in his tone telling Jason that if he doesn't listen, the Bat himself will come pull Jason out.
Hood, his transfer coincides with the start of these break outs. He may be involved. We will be investigating this further, very thoroughly. If he's clean, we will be getting him out of there. But for now I need you to pull out. File your report.
The tone softens.
And get some rest.
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thisdreamplace · 9 months
Text
for those who struggle
i recently got sent an anon message about frustrations surrounding the law, and how non-dualism hasn't made it any easier for them, but actually just more frustrating to the point where they're officially walking away from everything and wanting to just go back to live as they knew it before any of this.
the truth is that, oversimplification runs rampant in this community. as well as, hiding behind the realities of how difficult it all can be, because people are afraid of affirming that it's difficult or identifying with difficulty... but when we hide from this experience and try to come off as if it doesn't affect us, while simultaneously trying to give out advice, there tends to be more damage than good happening. the oversimplifying isn't the fault of anyone, as the truth is most of this is simple. but in actually living it, it tends to not be simple at all. the ego will fight till the very end to keep things the way they are, even when they hurt us. and that is worth being honest about.
when it comes to non-identification and indifference, this is not meant to be used to as yet another way to pretend something isn't happening or push down your feelings or gaslight yourself. i see these posts like, "just ignore the 3d and don't identify with it and you would have already have what you wanted" ..... this doesn't actually really help anyone, unless you're a person who strives on that kind of mentality. but i think a lot of people need a little more gentleness and realness, otherwise this journey wouldn't have been so difficult and painful. we'd all just get it overnight, but clearly, this community stays extremely active for a reason. because the million ways its already been explained still leaves so many confused and frustrated.
indifference is a daily practice, and it is NOT one that includes pretending something doesn't exist in exchange for getting what you want. it is actually, the extreme opposite. it's by acknowledging what's there... and allowing that to be what it is. the non-identification comes in from how you choose to see YOURSELF in relation to whatever that thing is. "this is painful, this sucks, i hate it... but that doesn't mean tomorrow won't be better for me. it doesn't mean my life is doomed..." etc etc etc. it's this very small flip within yourself, that actually leads to results. not trying to force yourself into believing you aren't even who you are when you've identified as yourself this entire life. remember that god's name is I AM, and literally nothing else.
and doing something to get something else is just... not it. it's time for you to truly want to feel better, regardless of anything else. that's why so much of this starts to get trickier than it needs to be.
non-identification is literally as simple as realizing... you are bound to no past, and you have the opportunity of every future you can possibly imagine. why ? because non-identification is literally just non-attachment. when you're not attached to this idea of who you were, of the struggles you used to face, you're able to allow in different experiences. and y'all... this as simple as being able to say to yourself, "i am allowed to experience something new" and don't let your fear of the unknown stop you from experiencing something new.
here's where it doesn't feel so simple though. how can you just stop identifying with this whole human self when the traumas of the past keep coming back to haunt you ? thats the thing. you don't just stop identifying with it. you let this be a process, a non-linear path to liberation. slowly, but surely, if you keep at it everyday, even when you feel you're only going backwards... one day you will realize how much more free you are. how much more easier it is to move into a new beautiful story for yourself, one that isn't contiminated by your past. but let today be today ! and whatever may come, let it come.
this is why just focusing on yourself is so helpful because if you're simply doing the best you can for yourself and your feeling state, the daily dramas are no longer your ruler.
the gag is that, the more you just do these small daily practices of sitting with yourself, choosing to not engage in the stories you used to identify with in the past, and allow new experiences to come to you... the more easy it gets, the more the truth of yourself begins to show itself on its own. you have to realize that the days are going to keep passing by anyway... so stop counting them, and just commit to yourself.
i also want to quickly note that so many seem to leave out the fact that behind all of this, within the pure nothingness that is also everything. behind our human identifications and all the things we have experienced in our lives, there is unconditional love. and when we actually begin to stop identifying so deeply with who we thought we are, we are lead right back to unconditional love. love in its purest form. so, use love as your guide when things get too difficult. it's the truest thing to who you really are.
you have to let allow yourself to experience the beautiful, despite how strange it may feel. because it's going to feel strange if you've never really experienced it before, and the ego is going to fight because even when it's good, the unknown is still strange and scary. and you never have to be perfect at this to get to experience the things you want, believe it or not. i know that i still have a long way to go on this journey, there may be much more time before i ever get to fully experience the promise in full, but that hasn't stopped me from experiencing the desires of my heart on a daily basis. that's because i used these simple things, these small little flips in how i chose to see life. even if the anxiety never went away, or it was a more difficult day full of tears... this is way more possible for you than you realize. if only you're willing to allow your life to be different than it's always been. just that small allowance, opens up all the doors.
xo dream 🕊
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sematarygirls · 2 months
Text
Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.
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part one
pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader
summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.
warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,
word count : 4.5k words !
a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.
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"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.
"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."
"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."
"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.
However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.
You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."
Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.
"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.
"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."
Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.
Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"
Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?
He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.
He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.
He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long
At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.
He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.
The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.
Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.
That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.
Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.
As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.
You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.
You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.
You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.
He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.
After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.
He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.
The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.
His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.
The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.
He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.
He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.
Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.
But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.
It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.
He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.
He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.
The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.
He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.
He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.
"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.
"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.
"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.
"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.
"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."
"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.
At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.
"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.
"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.
You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.
He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.
In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.
When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.
"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.
"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"
"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.
His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.
The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.
"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.
"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.
"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.
"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.
Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.
"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.
He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.
The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.
He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.
"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.
"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.
your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.
"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.
He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.
His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.
"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."
He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.
"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."
Yeah, right he thought.
He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.
Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.
He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.
"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"
You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!
"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.
"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.
Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.
"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."
"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.
"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."
His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.
"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."
"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.
"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."
He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.
"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."
He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.
"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.
He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.
"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."
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tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,
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177 notes · View notes
blingblong55 · 3 months
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Christmas Kids-Simon "Ghost" Riley
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Not a request but this idea is inspired by @suimon 's post ---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship, fluff, comfort?, childhood best friend!Simon, civilian!reader ---- also this specific verse from christmas kids you'll change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but i'll know, i'll know is SOOOOOOO childhood friends with simon coded. especially when you see him again after years and years thinking he died with his family
A/N: Simon is 35 in this and you're 34...and it might be slightly different from this idea
It's been twelve years since you last saw Simon. Two teens, Manchester and some booze. That is the last thing and place you remember from that night. 
You and him met because of your mums, they went to the same schools and so did Simon and you. It was like a movie, two best friends who have known each other since birth. Now all you have of him is a faint memory. He and his family died when you were around 22. It was the news of the city. 
"Mum, please tell me this is a lie," you cry and all she does is give you that look. "I'm sorry, love." The tears, the ache in the chest, it's all engraved in you. 
A knock on the door at two in the morning. 
"Never open the door to strangers," Simon reminds you. "But how will I know it's you?" He chuckles, "I'll use our whistle," he simply says and you nod. 
A knock and a whistle at two in the morning. You go pale. No, it can't be, he– he died, he's been dead for so long. Stupid nightmare, get me out of here. 
Another whistle, waiting for your response. 
You whistle back and get close to the door. You can feel the presence. It's there. He's there. That kid you ran the street with, the guy who took you home after one too many drinks. The stupid jokes and the constant lessons of life. "Simon?" 
"Please open, it's cold," his voice hoarse and once that door opens, a flood of memories comes through. 
His face is bruised, clothes are torn, blood is on them and the faint smell of his cologne is there. The rain filled the silence of the night. Police cars are in the background and he smiles at you. Once he stepped inside, it was a new man who did it, not your Simon. this man was taller, broader, he had tattoos and well...all that blood and those bags under his eyes. 
"You–you were dead, they...they recovered your body and–"
"I faked my death," he was breathless and you guided him to the stool of the kitchen. 
When your mum passed away, you were 27, that is when you needed him the most. Who else to give you a shit joke if not him? And now seven years later and here you are, waiting for a shit joke. 
"Your dad–"
"I know." he cuts you off. He needs no mention of that man, not ever. 
"If you faked your death then, does this mean they are all still alive?"
"No, I couldn't save them," he breaks down, finally. 
All this time, he played Ghost. The man, the myth and a persona that everyone saw as a tough and cold man. When he is here, in your presence, he is that 23-year-old who saw his family dead. He is the same man who cried to you. You were home to this soldier, the last home he had. You hug him and in that second, he turns into a child in need of his mummy and need of desperate comfort. For years he has been running away from the past, of that night and you. 
To be in the presence of the man he is, that is fear but to be in the home of the one person who knows who he is past the mask, is a nightmare. 
"I don't want to!" Simon cried to his father as he got the snake closer to him. 
"Dad, stop this isn't right." The same night when he was told to laugh at a woman who had passed out on the floor. 
But, you know what they say, Dead will follow, Dead won't leave, Dead won't rise, Dead and Gone all this except Simon Riley, he stays like the ghost he is. Now, he is a man who let all of his terrors catch up to him and as they haunt his head, he clings to you. 
In his head, his life flashes. From laughing with Tommy, getting scared by a skull mask, running in the streets with you, leaving Manchester, joining the military, the SAS, getting SA'D, hanging by his rib, crawling from a tomb, having dead friends, having a dead family, Task Force 141 and losing himself to Makarov and now, here he is, crying in a kitchen. If only his father would see him, he'd know his son is nothing but a bastard and a coward. 
"Simon?" Your voice breaks his trance and he looks up. "I'm lost, I don't know who I am anymore," he cries and in that instant, you see him. You see his past and the present. A frown forms on your lips, "What did they do to you?" your hands holding his face and all he can do is lean into that touch. "I'm dead, I'm nothing but a senseless killer," was the description he gave himself. 
In the world of Simon Joseph Riley, he was nothing but a cold-blooded killer, an apparition of his old self who was only meant to kill. 
As the night became morning, he said it all. From when he left to how he found himself at your door. Your heart broke more and more, he was the shell of a man. Nothing but a life of misery left in that stare he gives you. Simon knows he has nothing left for him. You on the other hand are the hidden treasure he left for when needed. 
His whole life– well, ever since the death of his family, he's been running away from the shadows and now he's running away from the military. With his captain being called a general killer, his friend Soap dead, and his friend Gaz lost, you are the last thing a man like him has. Tucked in a corner, the faint of the memory, that is what he has. 
"Please don't turn me in, they'll hurt me again," he cries. Those tears are not just from his current exhaustion, but from all the years he denied the feeling of regret and sadness. Sure he was forced to go to a therapist but after the first one was killed, who else could he trust?
"I'm scared, I'm so scared," he confesses and for the first time in his life, he does feel fear. He saw the shadow of fear when Soap was nearly caught and possibly killed by Shadow Company but he knows fear when all he has is you and the blood that drips from his wounds. "Simon-"
"I miss them, I miss them all, I missed you and I miss being normal," he cups your face and looks deep into your eyes. "Help me, please...I- I need to find myself again." Suddenly he was back at the park you two grew up in. 
"R/N!" His eyes with tears. His father must've scared him again, you thought. "Over here, Simon!" you wave your hand and you see him sigh in relief as he runs to you. His arms wrap around you as he once more confesses how his father hurt him. 
"Let's fix you up and maybe we'll head to the park," you suggest and he nods desperately. "Please, yes, let's do that."
Now, three weeks later, you find yourself hiding him from the world. Task Force 141 was deemed as a danger to others. 
Simon Joseph "Ghost" Riley, is no longer a danger to himself or others. He stares at the moon as he looks out the window, your cat on his lap, purring because they both found comfort in each other. He knows he lived through it, to get to this moment and he'll do anything to finally call a place home. 
A/N: Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers also inspired me, you can tell...
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