#chris wood theme

[violetsiren90]

Evergreen | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x human!f!Reader

(A Nothing But You universe fic)

Genre: hybrid AU; one-shot; established relationship; domestic fluff; slice of life; mountain living; pregnancy

Word Count: 1689

Summary: Seasons change, life moves on - but some things stay the same.

Content Warning: PG-13 for themes but my page and all its content are 18+ (minors, dni); wolf hybrid rut; mentions of knotting and marking; mentions of rut symptoms that include insomnia and lack of appetite; deep emotions; the use of "your" and "belonging" in the sense of committed love NOT ownership; pregnancy; mentions of different states of undress; domesticity and shared domestic responsibility; homesteading; Chris being the sweetest and most caring 😭💕; Chris chopping wood 😳; mentions of food and eating; implications of sexual intimacy, parenthood

Author's Note: I guess I went and fell in love with these two. This is a companion one-shot to Nothing But You. This one-shot is a different flavor, not as soft and cozy all the way through - there are more notes here, I think. Some sweeter, some sharper, but in the end, it's still them. I wanted to peek into their lives and see how they lived and loved. 🥰

If no one has told you yet today, please know that you are so loved, and so worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

~January~

Snow burdens the branches of the pines, the bitter North wind whistling between the trees, through the darkness, and over the blanket of fresh powder shrouding the forest floor. The mountains are sleeping, but your wolf is awake.

He nearly collapses, sinking to his knees as he shuts the cabin door. You spring up from your place by the fire to rush to him, but he holds up a hand, a growl rumbling low in his chest. You freeze. Panting, he slowly raises his face. Snowflakes cling to his lashes and dust over his head and shoulders. The dusky circles under his brown eyes speak of weariness, yet their expression is dark and wild. His nose is flushed from the chill. Beads of sweat quiver on his brow.

The fever still hasn't broken.

It appeared two days ago, with other sudden changes. Christopher has grown restless and short-tempered, and won't sleep in your bed. He smells intoxicatingly of cedar wood and amber.

You've been through it all before, his annual rut at the end of winter - four days of watching him endure the throes of primal agony. He would steal away at night, to hunt, your proximity far too overwhelming for his heightened senses and desires. Unchecked he would fail to stop himself. He would take you, mark you, knot you.

He hadn't in the four years you'd shared a bed and the comfort of the other's flesh. You'd spoken of the mating rites, but he always held off, afraid to break you. So protective of you always, and without a second a thought to himself.

You respected his space, his wishes, attempting to help him navigate the torment of his natural longings as best you could.

But this year it had taken him like a wild fire. The fever wouldn't break. He wouldn't sleep or eat. And now, here he was, half frozen and shivering on the floor.

No more.

You slowly cross to pull him up against his weak protesting. You peel away his frost-damp clothes and drag his heavy frame to rest upon the bed. With his last strength he tries to push you away, but you slip under the blankets beside him, pulling him into your arms.

His eyes flutter shut as he curls against you and nuzzles into your neck, whimpering that when he wakes it will be too hard for him to hold back.

You tell him not to try.

You tell him that you need him, want him - all of him. This part too, with all the others.
You assure him softly that you're not afraid, nor should he fear to make you his...you already belong to one another, after all.

You whisper that you love him.

Christopher exhales, tears trickling down his cheeks to mingle with the sweat and melted snow. You hold him to your breast, brushing soft kisses into his hair.

Cedar wood and amber.

~April~

You shake out a flannel shirt, crinkled and bunched from wringing to hang it on the line that stretches from the side of the cabin to a young yellow birch within the clearing. You smile as you fasten it with clips. He had worn it on the first day he visited the diner. It was faded then, and it has grown more timeworn still. But the fabric is thick, the seams hand-sewn, and if the dye has begun to abandon the thread it is only ever the softer. 

Strong and soft, like him.

The warblers are singing in the branches of the white pines as they busily fashion their nests. You stroke a hand down over the little bump of your belly, musing over the nesting that has started to change the trappings of your own little home. There's still plenty of time, but Christopher's excitement has poured forth in the form of hard work, and you're certain that when your time comes he'll have stored by enough for the next three winters yet.

You hear the rumbling of his truck a ways off. He left in the wee hours, the bed loaded down with wares to sell to suppliers in town. By the time you've strung up the last piece of washing he's already at the mouth of the trail, his arms laden with flowers and parcels wrapped in brown paper. The light wash of his denim shirt brings out the early kisses of the spring sunshine on his honeyed skin.

You follow him into the house where he puts your wildflowers into a vase and insists that you sit while he tends to lunch. Unwrapping the brown paper packages you find a set of pretty maternity pajamas, a box of chocolates, and the goat's milk soap you like. 

He's already eaten half his sandwich when he sets yours down, and you tug his wrist, pulling him into a chair to prevent him from setting out to work yet again. 

When the dishes are cleared you won't let him leave. He'd work every second of every day and well into many nights if you let him. But today you want him to rest. It's a mild and lovely afternoon and the chores are done. Other things can wait.

You sit across his lap on the porch swing he built two summers before. Your arms encircle one of his as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

His lips brush your forehead as his thumb caresses the little curved scar where the slope of your shoulder meets your neck. The one that means you belong to him and no one else.

The birds sing and the swing creaks.


~July~

He calls you from around the other side of the house. You draw an arm over your dripping brow and struggle up from where you're crouched to spread a batch of plump, ripe blackberries between the screens of the drying rack. There are still so many. Some you'll turn into jam. Christopher will eat the rest. He loves them. You rest the colander still half-full with berries against the full swell of your belly, wrapping an arm about the rim to keep it in place. 

You're hot and uncomfortable these days. But, when the morning's work is through, you'll go down to the lake together to shed the day's heat in the cool, still waters. You'd been every afternoon that week. Christopher was a strong swimmer, and would stay in far longer while you sat on the shady bank with a book. When he finally quit the water yesterday, he'd never found his clothes - instead he'd pressed you back into the lush green grass and made you sigh his name. 

As you round the far side of the cabin your eyes catch his form. He stands under the sweltering sun, stripped down to pair of fitted khaki work pants and thick suede boots. His muscular chest is slicked with sweat and he stands, panting, with his weight pressed into his right hip. He holds an axe in his hand.

His mouth pulls up at the corner and his tail swishes at the site of you. You tuck yourself against him wrapping your free arm around his damp waist. Oh how you want to swim. To hold his strong body in the dark water.

He gestures with the axe at what he's fitted together with stripped pieces of soft pine. A little cradle. He nudges it with his foot, setting it to rock. You bring a blackberry to his lips and he accepts it.

You kiss him.

Salty skin and summer fruit.


~October~

Your eyes flutter open to the sound of little cries. You sit up and stretch, blinking in the softness of the early autumn light.

You inhale deeply. Cinnamon and hickory smoke.

Outside the air is growing crisp and the leaves of the deciduous trees are blushing and abandoning their hosts, covering the floor of the wood in their pageantry. Fruit and game have begun to grow scarce as the forest prepares to enter the long slumber of the colder months. Nights require fires more often than not.

There is a small fire crackling now. A little black cauldron hangs over the flames, and you can smell the porridge simmering within. The man you love sits in a rocking chair near the warmth, a little bundle in his arms. He looks up at you as you rise and he smiles. He's been all smiles lately. In fact, you don't think the little dimple has left his cheek since he met the tiny she-wolf in his arms two weeks ago.

He says she looks like you, but all you see in her beautiful little features is Christopher. She has two tiny fuzzy ears and a darling little tale.

You reach down to stroke her fat cheek and your heart aches.

It aches from love, so much of it.

When the doctor placed her in your arms a part of your heart that you hadn't known existed burst to beating. You thought you loved the man who had knitted her inside you as much as you were able, but you had been ignorant in that respect as well. When he took your daughter in his arms and looked down on her face you thought that there wasn't room in your chest for things so vast, so deep.

You named her Hannah, for the sister her father had lost. It meant "grace".

So fitting, you think.

You move your fingers into Christopher's curls and he looks up at you. His brown eyes are soft and warm. The lovely eyes you saw that first day at the general store - the same through every changing season.

The maple and the birch will wax and wane, but not the cedar, not the pine.

Some things will remain.

And he is evergreen.
 

-Fin-

[annymation]

The voices in my Wish Rewrite

I haven’t talked much about it, but in my Wish rewrite some characters would be recasted. I wanted to make this post just to show which actors I’d replace… And it’s pretty much everyone except Magnifico, cause ya know, Chris Pine is Magnifico, and Magnifico is Chris Pine, it’s just how it is.

So let’s get this started!

Asha- Denée Benton

Im absolutely OBSESSED with this woman’s voice, she sounds like an angel and carries so much personality in her performance, she sounds pure, youthful, hopeful but also strong, everything I imagine Asha as. THIS is what I imagine the 100th anniversary Disney princess sounding like. Not that I didn’t like Ariana DeBose’s singing tho, but I just love Denee Benton more, and hey, it’s my rewrite, so I get to imagine Asha’s voice how I please. Also I can totally see Asha and Aster singing this song.

Aster- Jordan Fisher

Oooooh this man, I love him so much. His voice has the perfect energy for Aster, sounding youthful and melodic like a prince, it had to be a literally other worldly voice, and I think Jordan’s voice is PRETTY DANG other worldly, like, this example I found on Spotify doesn’t even do him justice, go listen to his other singing chops on YouTube.

If you look up Jordan Fisher you’ll see the guy is DEEPLY connected with Disney in his career, from singing the song “Happily Ever After” 6 years ago, which is the theme song for the Magic Kingdom, to now being the main singer of 4-town in the movie Turning Red. And of course this one time he made a cover of “You’re Welcome”, the guy just lives and breaths Disney so WHY NOT have him as a wishing star? It just makes sense. But besides working with Disney he also has experience in a musicals such as Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Sweeney Todd and more recently he became the new Orpheus in Hadestown… And by god I need a good quality audio of him singing “Wait For Me” more than I need air because that song fits Aster’s character SO WELL.

Magnifico- Chris Pine

Yeah no surprises here, you can’t have Magnifico without Chris Pine… But HIS SINGING VOICE IN THIS SONG THOUGH??? ITS SO GOOD!!! I listened to “Any Moment” ONCE and now I constantly go back to listen to it over and over and imagine young Magnus and Amaya meeting in the woods. I still haven’t posted about Amaya’s backstory BECAUSE IM TOO LAZY TO FINISH THE DRAFT I HAVE EXPLAINING IT- But let me just say her hesitating to start a relationship with him is VERY accurate to her character. And Magnus being like “May I kiss you” out of nowhere because he: 1- Sees himself as irresistible so he thinks she’d fall for him with just that and 2- he had 0 social skills before he met Amaya.

And then there’s the line “Life is often so unpleasant, you must know that as a peasant” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! This is LITERALLY something my Magnifico would say, I’m so freakin lucky!

My point is, my rewrite’s Magnifico sounds like THIS when he sings, with a deep, smooth and honeyed voice that makes you want to trust him… Take that high pitched voice Chris Pine did in “This Is The Thanks I Get” and throw it out the window. Disney wasted the man’s talent. I’m so mad.

Amaya- Emily Blunt

Do you guys see my vision? Do I even have to say anything? Like really, go watch a scene of the Mary Poppins remake, any scene with her at all, that woman has a voice that DEMANDS respect, while also being motherly, it’s practically perfect in every way. I’m using “Open Up Your Eyes” here as an example though because… Well, it fits her backstory… Ya know, the backstory I’m stalling to talk about 👉👈… But it also just simply fits her personality in general!

And no disrespect for her voice in the movie, Angelique Cabral… BUT ITS EMILY BLUNT AS AN EVIL QUEEN!!! Come ooooon! It’s just meant to be!!!

Also side note, since we’re talking about Queen Amable, THIS design that came from an deleted scene is how I’ve imagined her the whole time:

Like, I could not STAND her hairstyle in the movie, it simply didn’t fit my vision for her character, see, Amaya is sophisticated but she’s also… Practical and likes to feel comfortable, hence why in my rewrite her dress has no sleeves, she values her own comfort more than conforming to the social norms… AND THAT HAIR LOOKING LIKE HEADPHONES WITH THAT CROWN THAT MADE HER FOREHEAD LOOK LIKE A SQUARE DROVE ME NUTS!

So yeah, this is our Queen Amable, voiced by Emily Blunt, with a British accent, in all her glory, we’re moving on.

Valentino- Gregory Mann

This is just a bonus mention, since Valentino doesn’t even sing in my rewrite, he just speaks in like 3 scenes… And you guys have only seen one of them so far. But either way, let it be known he sounds like Gregory Mann, because Gregory Mann sounds adorable. That is all.

Thank You For Reading!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Pack parents done in PUBLIC???!??!!!?!

Please pls pls pls would you share that scene 🥹🥹🥹

this ask has been in my inbox since the beginning of june lol.

i'm honestly glad i kept it bc i can finally share this lil drabble with y'all. hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut · established relationship · unprotected penetration (piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · public shenanigans · interruptions.

minors do not interact.

‘I’ll be quick’, Chris said…

‘Just wanna feel you, pretty… Please? Hm?’ Chris said…

And you, of course, said yes. Because why wouldn’t you?

Of course you let him pull you out of your very private room, and to the very public outdoor barbeque of his house in the woods this very early in the morning. 

The area was far to the side of the house, with no windows above it, so in theory, if you were careful, no one would find you.

A little while ago, as soon as you gave him the go-ahead, Chris took you right here, and sat you on the brick counter next to the grill–right after he placed a folded tablecloth for your bare bum to not rub against the coarse surface, of course.

“You’re so… fucking… warm…” With a hand on the bricks and the other on your lower back, Chris emphasised each word with his sharp thrusts, mumbling right in your ear, doing his absolute best to keep his volume to a minimum.

“Fuck, Chris… That’s so… good…” You whispered in his ear, whimpering, tightening your grip on his hair and the hold of your legs around his waist.

Your dress gave him easy access to most of the areas he loved to provide attention to. Your centre, your thighs, your neck, your cleavage… Even then, you opted to not let your tits out, just in case.

You’d discovered recently that your boyfriend had a thing for fucking you right in the open, and the more you tried it, the more you started to warm up to it yourself. Maybe a little too much…

There was something exhilarating about the possibility of getting caught… It gave you a sense of urgency and desperation that just couldn’t be matched. Chris always got so needy, he always fucked you hard and fast regardless of the setting, just to make sure he got you to come and so he could blow his load either in your mouth, deep within your warmth, or anywhere he could, really.

“Fuck… One day, I’m gonna have you right in the forest. Hm? So you don’t need to keep a single sound to yourself…” Chris mumbled, his pace relentless as he kept drilling into you. “Want to hear you scream my name so, so bad, baby…”

You couldn’t help but whine, digging your nails on his shoulder. You, too, wanted to scream his name so badly… But you knew better. You were a bit cock-drunk, yes, but you were still coherent enough to know that if you got too loud, you’d never hear the end of it from your pack mates.

You could feel your arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, Chris’ precise thrusts stimulating those sensitive areas within you had you incredibly close to your release, and if he kept going like this, you just knew you’d come.

“You’d have me–have me in the forest?” You tightened your grip on his hair, and readjusted your ankles to make sure they were locked with one another to keep your legs around his torso. Chris’ lips on your neck made it so you could barely think, and you shivered when his hair tickled your skin with the minute nod of his head. “Have the whole forest know I’m claimed by the–by the alpha wolf?”

“Mhm, all fucking mine…”

Before you knew it, Chris was kissing you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth, getting his tongue inside your mouth, stealing the air straight out of your lungs. You felt dizzy, drunk on the taste of his lips, his tongue, and the feel of him ramming into you. 

One of his hands greedily palmed your thigh, squeezing it roughly, matching the pace of his lips and his hips. You held onto his shoulders, trying–and failing–to not make any sound. Your quiet whines and his muffled groans filtered between your lips with the motions of your kiss.

This angle was just perfect, Chris was hitting right where you needed him to, and that pool of desire in your belly was so, so ready to overflow. It wouldn’t be long now for sure before you finally got your relief, probably just a precise rub to your clit would be enough–

“Jesus Christ on a skateboard!”

Your skeleton almost jumped out of your body. The haze in your mind dissipated almost completely as soon as you registered the familiar voice. Chris had a similar reaction, he stopped his movements, but he remained inside you, and started swearing, loudly.

“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin!”

“Ew! Ew! Ew!” Seungmin was covering his eyes, pressing on his eye sockets with his fingertips as he walked in circles on the spot. “Why, why, why, why, why meee?”

All you could do was laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Stop laughing! You’re just squeezing me harder if you do, god!” Chris held your hips tightly, but it only made you laugh harder.

“Noooooo! Why did you have to say that?! Oh, my God. I crave death”, Seungmin whined from where he was still walking in circles, still covering his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you still here?! Go away! Let me fuck my girlfriend in peace, will you?!” 

“I just came to tell you breakfast was ready!” Seungmin stopped walking, but he didn’t remove his hands from his face. “I didn’t think you’d be literally fucking right here. God, I need to pour bleach in my eyes…”

Had it been anyone else, the scent of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your quiet sounds of pleasure would’ve probably tipped them about what was going on here before they got too close. However, for a werewolf, Seungmin tended to get engrossed in his thoughts very often, enough to not perceive anything that surrounded him, so the poor boy had to unexpectedly witness this very intimate moment…

Chris sighed. “Seungmin!”

“Okay, okay! I’m leaving!” Still covering his eyes, Seungmin finally started to walk away. “Hope you know I’m gonna send you my therapy bill!”

By this point, your laugh fit had subsided, but you could still feel this need to chuckle bubbling deep within your chest. Although, to be fair, the sudden interruption and the whiplash of emotions had you feeling a bit lightheaded.

Chris sighed again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head from side to side. When he returned his eyes to yours, he looked at you for a few seconds, and the scowl that had come onto his face started to disappear. Very quickly, Chris started laughing himself, and it rubbed off on you, reigniting your laughter.

“Oh, my God”, Chris hugged your waist, and pressed a kiss on your temple. “I didn’t think we’d actually get caught. I didn’t even hear him coming…”

“What do you mean you didn’t think we’d get caught?” you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes before you pressed a kiss of your own on his temple. “Of course we were bound to get caught, baby, we’re literally right here instead of our room”.

“I know, I know… But I just… I don’t want anyone to see you”, Chris pouted, and you pushed his fringe away from his forehead so you could place a kiss right in the middle. 

“So, you don’t mind them hearing me, but you do mind them seeing me?”

“Precisely”, Chris chuckled, pecking your lips.

Unsurprisingly, Chris was still very much inside you, still hard–although probably not as hard as he could be. It amused you, truly.

As half animals, most pack members were really used to situations like these. Nudity and sex weren’t really something to shy away from, but everyone tried to keep certain things private whenever possible, mostly to avoid teasing…

“You do know they’re gonna be insufferable for a while now, right?” You combed your fingers through his hair, until you reached the back of his head where you could take a handful and pull him close to you for a kiss.

Chris hummed, caressing your thighs as you kissed.

“They will be, God… I’m so not looking forward to that”, he chuckled, pulling back a bit to brush the tip of his nose against yours. “Mood ruined?”

You shook your head, emphasising your words with a voluntary clench of your inner walls that had him biting his bottom lip.

“Well, if that’s the case… Come here”.

Chris finally pulled out, and he helped you to your feet. Your legs were a bit wobbly, but he was making sure to keep you steady by holding your waist. 

“I don’t think they’ll bother us now”, Chris cradled your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply, further feeding the butterflies in your belly. “Turn around, pretty”.

So you did. With your hands firm on the brick counter, your boyfriend stepped close to you, taking a hold of the hem of your dress to get it out of the way before he plunged himself right back in. You sighed, baring your neck further so Chris could have easier access to your neck when he pressed his chest to your back.

He kissed and sucked your skin, all as his hand made its way towards your front, and under your dress to find your clit. Sparks of pleasure immediately coursed through your body when he started to rub precise circles on the sensitive nub, right as he resumed his hips’ motions.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s finish what we started, hm?”

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

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[the-cosmic-artist]

Okay, I guess this is my Writeblr intro!

Pretty new to this, so here goes nothing...

Greetings, Writeblr!

My name's Chris (he/him), I'm 27, currently based in Philadelphia. I'm a visual artist, specializing in 2D media and illustration, and I'm also an avid lover of Fiction and Storytelling!

Naturally, the sum of these interests manifests itself as a love for Comics and Sequential Art; with that being said, the majority of my Fiction Writing is for comics and graphic novels.

I started my journey in learning to write fiction a few years ago; i always had a love for Story, whether it be books, shows, comics, movies.... if there's a Compelling Narrative and Compelling Characters, chances are I'm all over it!

My current WIP is a Sci-Fi, Cosmic Horror, Sports Drama Graphic novel series, called OneFall: a Dystopian, Cyberpunk world of Lovecraftian horror, compounded with the action-packed, fast-paced world of Pro-Wrestling, injected with themes of identity, feminism, revolution, and reconciling with past trauma. If this sounds like an interesting (albeit unorthodox) combination, then maybe this comic is for you!

As you might've guessed, I tend to write (and read) in the genres of Action-Adventure, Sci-fi, and Horror, but I tend to dip my feet in whatever catches my interest.

While I'm no stranger to this site, I'm fairly new to this neck of the woods, so... feel free to say hi!

Where my fellow writers at?

[theresattrpgforthat]

hello! i was wondering if theres any ttrpgs set in/inspired by Terry Pratchett's Discworld? thanks :)

THEME: Discworld

I love the Discworld books and I'm very glad you asked this question. I have three resources for you!

A One In A Million Chance At Adventure, by Jocher Symbolic Systems.

This is a game where you play the roles of, often unwilling, sometimes zealous, pawns in the cosmic octarine coloured narrative. Your character is not necessarily a "hero" per se, instead one could possibly see it as being important to the story. Characters like yourself do have a knack for not dying as often as a common mortal (or undead if that has been your unfortune).

With this follows that you'll naturally have a higher chance of actually, possibly, doing some heroic deeds, just by sheer mathematical logic. Unless, of course, you are the type of adventurer who'd prefer a cup of hot tea and soft slippers and a reliable day job.

That does severely reduce the odds of let's say beheading a mythical beast of ill repute or befriending the immodest wood nymphs of Howondaland*.

*if your day job happens to be for example a tax collector this is not true, this and similar careers have shown to increase the risk of leaving the disc rather early.  ** only rumoured, no one who has gone looking for them has ever returned.

This is a free, fan-made d10-based game written in the style of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, footnotes and all. The characters you build are expected to be flawed in some way - they have vices that can cause problems for them and plenty of skills (or spells) to help them get out of trouble.

A One in A Million Chance At Adventure has plenty of supplements to support the game, including an introductory adventure: The Murder of Dominick Kolchak, and a character supplement: The A-M Professions Character Build Guides.

Discworld Roleplaying Game, by Steve Jackson Games.

There's a lot of unusual stuff on the Disc, but don't worry about getting lost – game author Phil Masters has crafted a roadmap to Pratchett-inspired storytelling.

Visit settings like the most dubious city in the multiverse, Ankh-Morpork. Intervene in the cultural interactions of trolls and dwarves (but watch out for flying axes). Campaign for goblin rights. Flee from an angry Swamp Dragon (two feet of mindless fury and high-explosive digestion). Even find out why the second-greatest lover on the Disc needs a stepladder.

And remember, the world is round. And also flat.

This is the official roleplaying game published by Steve Jackson Games, the creators of Munchkin and GURPS - which means that this game also uses the GURPS system. Characters are pretty in-depth and require some time to put together - and that means the the core rulebook is a pretty hefty read. If you like big games with heavy modularity and a lot to chew on, maybe this game is for you!

If you want to try the game out and need a little help, there’s a GURPS Character sheet app available to help you put characters together, and Chris Normand is an avid enthusiast with many videos providing advice on how to get a grip on the system.

The Kleptomancer’s Crypt, by Max Kāmmerer.

The Kleptomancer’s Crypt is an adventure for Troika!, but is easily adapted to other systems. It mostly consists of tables to help you generate a variable adventure. Improvisation and interpretation by the GM required. 

A client hired you to break into the Kleptomancer’s Crypt and so you did. Now you need to get out of the place. The Kleptomancer is a government official tasked with redistributing the wealth by stealing from the rich and keeping what they stole for themselves. Okay, that last part isn’t in the official job description. The Crypt is filled with all kinds of strange things and rooms and people, really. You might for example encounter pipe smoking sloths, boardgame playing plants, ever expanding spheres or the Kleptomancer’s apprentice. The place is dangerous, so you prepared by cutting a deal with death, preventing you from dying while you are in the Crypt.

To be clear, this is not a full game. It is simply an adventure for one.

The eclectic tone of Troika fits Discworld so well that I’m not at all surprised that there is an adventure made for it. If you have experience with Troika, or even with other OSR games, you might want to check this one out.

[stayteezdreams]

12 Days of Christmas {2023}

Daily releases from December 14th to December 25th

❄ Winter Themed; No Christmas mentioned ⛄ General/Winter Themed; Mild/Background Christmas Theme 🎄 Christmas Themed/Based

A/n: Individual Notes and Warnings listed in each fic. Each fic is a Gn!Reader insert

Status: Complete!

December 14th: 'Snow Day'; I.N. X Gn!Reader ❄ After a big snow storm, you and Jeongin go out for some fun in the snow. But along the way, certain hidden feelings are revealed. (cute/fluff)

December 15th: 'Snowed In'; Seungcheol x Gn!Reader ❄ You and Seungcheol head to a cabin in the woods to prepare for a winter get away with the others. But plans change when a storm hits and the two of you get snowed in together. (fluff/light pining/romance)

December 16th: 'Cozy'; Yeosang x Gn!Reader 🎄 You and Yeosang spend a cozy winter evening together. (fluff/comfort)

December 17th: 'A Winter Date'; Chris | Bang Chan x Gn!Reader Chris takes you out on your first official date. But what does he have planned? (fluff)

December 18th: 'Eggnog Confession'; Choi San x Gn!Reader ⛄ While at a Christmas party, San drinks a little too much spiked Eggnog. Now he can't keep his thoughts, or secrets to himself (fluff/light angst).

December 19th: 'Winter Wishes'; Soobin x Gn!Reader ❄ It is believed that if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it will come true. It is also believed that if you confess during the first snowfall, you will be together forever.

December 20th: 'Mistletoe Mischief'; Yunho x Gn!Reader ⛄ Yunho takes every opportunity he can to kiss you under the mistletoe, even if that means following you around with it.

December 21st: 'Snowball Fight'; Changbin x Gn!Reader ❄ Changbin takes snowball fights a little too seriously...

'Christmas For Two'; Mingyu x Gn!Reader🎄 You and Mingyu go a little over board with Christmas decorations.

December 22nd: 'Mission: Christmas Cupid'; Yeonjun x Gn!Reader⛄ You go to a Christmas festival with the boys, only to be left behind with Yeonjun. But it's okay, this was supposed to happen.

December 23rd: 'A Kiss For Christmas'; Lee Felix x Gn!Reader ⛄ When running into Felix under the mistletoe changes everything.

December 24th: 'Favor'; Seonghwa x Gn!Reader ⛄ In a moment of desperation you ask Seonghwa for a favor. He is happy to oblige....suspiciously happy actually.

December 25th: 'Secret Santa'; Choose Your Own Ending; Jeonghan; Joshua; Wonwoo; and/or Woozi x Gn!Reader ⛄🎄 You receive numerous surprising gifts from a secret Santa, each one containing what could only be seen as a confession.

[weskin-time]

Ooo how about Wesker with the “you wanna kiss me so bad prompt?” Either in DBD or maybe in the first fight with him in RE5? Thank you love your work so much <3333

KSJWISJA YES !! i did in dbd to fit the theme <3 this has a lot of wesker slander (in an affectionate way)

not beta read :3

post referencing this post of mine

Spotting a metal box made your blood run cold, even colder than it had been when you appeared in Raccoon City Police Department, it was nice to narrow down who was going to be hunting you and your friends. You sorta hoped that it wasn’t the blond, red eyed, asshole that seemed to hunt you down every trial you were in with him.

You and Chris were pretty good friends, you two got along better than any other survivor in this dark limbo that wasn’t from his own home, they knew each other, the banded together, and you were one of the few to slip into their friendships. That must have been why Albert Wesker hated you, because you were close to Chris Redfield, the man who killed him. That or he was just an asshole. It was probably both honestly.

Rain was falling from the sky as you walked outside to make your way to the generator by the gate, the sound of police sirens almost drowned out the sound of the roaring flames from far behind you of the crashed helicopter. You didn’t really know how to repair a generator but sticking your hand in there and wiggling things around all while flipping some switches seemed to do the job as the motor slowly began to kick to life.

Your gen was almost done now and it had been quiet, you haven’t heard a scream, a pallet drop, any hint of the killer, and worst of all you didn’t see any zombies shambling around, which you made the conclusion that it was indeed Wesker who was on the hunt.

Speaking of the fucking devil and he shall appear.

A wooshing sound was heard along with a male chuckle from somewhere behind you, you looked over your shoulder and saw him standing by the flames, his back to you as he stepped on a totem. He hasn’t seen you yet. Good. Your gen was just a few seconds away from being done but you wanted to be an asshole to Wesker, he was one to you so it was only fair. He would come check the generator next, kick it and leave, but you had a very fun trick up your sleeve.

You left the gen and crouched over to one of the cement road blocks, the one with the pallet leaning against it, and waited. Your heartbeat made your chest move with how hard it was drumming in your system, peeking over to see him walk down the stairs you watched him as his head turned at the sound of a generator across the station popping. You put your head down and got ready as he made his way to the generator you were just working on. It was hard to keep a laugh in as you saw him fall for the trap you set up.

As soon as you saw his figure over the road block you moved, jerking your body and pulled down the pallet. He jumped back in shock, his sunglasses flew off his face, and you just laughed in his face. Running as fast as your legs could take you and sliding to the generator, ignore how the wet concrete bit at your flesh under your clothes and popped it right as you heard Wesker break the wood he was hit with.

“You’ll pay for that!” He roared.

You were fucked instantly when it came to going up against this asshole, the only person he cared more about catching and killing than you was Chris, and you wanted to bite Weskers head off.

You booked it.

You tried your best to run into RPD, the rain made the ground slick which worked to your advantage as the man behind you slipped and shadow dashed into a wall. Sucker haha.

The main lobby was massive, but you had your eyes on another pallet up the stairs, just to hopefully create some distance between you and the blonde who wanted to kill you. Taking a right you ran as fast as you could to get to the stairs but knew it was a tad too late for you when you heard that woosh again right behind you. You didn’t even get to make it past the front desk as you were grabbed by the back of your neck like a kitten only more violent, and thrown forward.

You screamed as you flew through the air, a chuckle came from behind you as you hit the ground with a force, you did your best to roll into the impact thankful to not hit anything but the ground below you. Your shoulders took most of the force but your legs found their ground to push you back up again and you bolted up the stairs, if anything he just made more distance for you, but he was able to infect you in that short time frame. Uroboros didn’t hurt as it faded into your skin and wiggled into your DNA, it didn’t hurt when it fazed through your flesh and disappeared inside of you like you were a fresh compost box full of worms, it just felt wrong. Wrong in the sense of illness, the feeling of when you first start to get sick, that feeling of ‘there’s something wrong with me’ before you check your temperature.

How could a virus be wormy??

“You can’t run much longer! Uroboros has infected you!” He was so dramatic about everything.

Your wet shoes squeaked as you padded up the stairs, coming to the landing of the second floor waiting just behind the pallet. He stopped in his tracks, standing on the stairs as you looked down to him.

It was still. The only sound was your labored breathing. You could see the red glow of his eyes through his dark glasses, his leather outfit clung to his form like a second skin and you had absolutely no idea how he could move in it so fluidly, your eyes trailed over him, taking him in for the first time that wasn’t as he was chasing your or piercing your flesh into a hook. How tight was his clothes if you could see his abs through them? You never let your guard down even for a second as you took him in. Why wasn’t he moving? Was his ego so fragile that he couldn’t take another pallet to the face to he was trying to wait you out?

He was rather attractive to be honest. You could never admit it to yourself let alone someone else that you liked what you saw, that a little voice in the back of your brain was keeping his form stored. You couldn’t tell if your red face was from the effort to run or because you were staring, but it definitely exploded into warmth as he smirked. He was watching you check him out, watching your eyes run over his body, taking him in.

He might have been an asshole but at least he was a nice one to look at.

“Aren’t you going to run little mouse?” He mused at the situation. It was a game of cat and mouse and it confirmed your suspicions, that he did like chasing you around because he was an asshole. “Getting tired?”

You stood silent as you felt his gaze on yourself. You could just see the glow of his eyes, you couldn’t tell what he was looking at but you could feel the red stare on your body, looking at you, burning into your flesh, watching your body twitched at the Uroboros that infected your system, gazing at the way the wormy black masses wiggled in your skin. Your entire body burned.

The black tendrils slithered up his arm out from under his coat sleeve and writhed around each other as he lifted up his hand, and he was too fast for you to even react. You didn’t bring the pallet down to stun him, his burning gaze flustered you into dropping your guard a tad, just enough of a window for him to pounce. He knocked into with a force of a train, in an instant your back and harshly pressed up against the wall of the police station, his hand around your throat and the inky limbs holding you in place.

A deep purr came for him chest in the form of mock laugher as you tried to gasp the air back from it being knocked out of you. Your hands came to grab at his arm to weakly attempt to pull him off. He never lingered for this long, he usually just knocked the wind out of you and threw you over his shoulder, but he held you in place as Uroboros slithered across your skin, coiling around your limbs and one slid across your cheek. They were warm, and kinda gooey. It felt weird. Super weird. You didn’t appreciate the feeling in your gut as you were no longer being held up by your throat, instead being supported by the tendrils.

His red gaze seemed like it was going to melt his glasses off his face, he was just watching you struggle against him, against the black Uroboros.

“Now you’re putting up a fight, what happened on the stairs mouse? Got scared? Got…” his teasing voice paused for dramatic effect, “Distracted?” To help with the dramatics the tentacle on your cheek ran along your lower lip.

“Oh shut up asshole.” You choked out, thankful to finally have air back in your lungs, “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Time stood still for a second once again that trial. You feared for a second you might had read the vibe wrong and now you were going to get moried for your stupid social skills but the fear disappeared when he laughed and leaned in closer.

His face was inches away from your own and your heart stopped. His head angled to the side as his grip on your throat became a little more firm, his lips parted like he was going to kiss you. You eyelids felt suddenly heavy as you looked at his own lips through half lidded eyes, the feeling of Uroboros in your body was null compared to this moment. He slowly inched forward, your lips almost touching, is you could just move your head you could meet h-

“Your hearts beating rather fast mouse? Are you expecting something?”

He was feeling your pulse from his hand around your throat. Oh my gods. You were jerked from the wall, suddenly the warm embrace of Uroboros’s tentacles released you as you were thrown over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

“You might be right about wanting to kiss you dear but I can’t have you winning this match.” He dragged you down the stairs to the main floor, the hook in site as you wiggled against him in protest. “Your pesky friends are already far ahead of me and I can’t have that.”

He hooked you. Pain seeped through your entire body as you screamed and protested against the hook in your flesh. His gloved hand ran down your shin as he spoke.

“Do come see me after this trial mouse. Now if you’ll excuse me.” and with that he was gone.

Fucking asshole.

[yournecessaryevil]

☠️ His Darkness Divine ☠️

•Part One•

💀CHRIS MOTIONLESS X READER SERIES💀

He's a demon from one of the oldest ruling classes of the Underground. You're the one human he was never meant to fall for, to become involved with. When your paths cross, will things be doomed from the very beginning? Or will it perhaps be a tale for the ages...?

• fluff; TW dark themes (mentions of death and violence/blood); language; TW (features Ghost [male presenting])

Something was up.

He could feel it, deep within bones and tendons and nerve endings that were centuries old.

Something felt slightly off about tonight.

He couldn't place it yet, couldn't quite grasp just what exactly it was.

Of course, everything appeared calm and cool on the outside, the moonlight filtering in through the shadowed treeline, casting silver streaks here and there along the wooded path.

Being mid-October, there was a slight chill to the air that night, lingering amidst an otherwise rather forgiving breeze whispering amongst the leaves above.

And yet... something felt amiss.

He couldn't help but find a sort of amusement within it all, really. Here he was, the eldest of his brothers, born and bred from one of the finest ruling families of demons inhabiting the Underground.

And yet something had him feeling all too uneasy, a feeling he wasn't used to very often.

"Knock it off!"

The hissed warning startled Christopher out of his present thoughts, capturing his attention and sending a hot streak of irritation coursing through him.

Couldn't at least one of his brothers find it in themselves to behave for once??

"Both of you," he began, causing the two youngest of his brothers, Richard and Vinny, to turn their attention towards him.

One of them opened his mouth to protest, but upon seeing the dark look in his brother's eyes, he promptly closed it.

"I don't care who or what started it. Both of you, behave yourselves," Chris spoke coolly, his tone implying there were no further altercations to be had.

"Acting like fucking children," one of his other brothers muttered, shaking his head.

"Pfft, like you're any better, Sola!" came the immediate retort from Vinny. The man in question, Sola, or rather, as he was more commonly known, 'Ghost', scowled at the younger demon.

"Better behaved than you, at least. Know your fucking place," he answered, his tone cold and hard as flint.

Snap.

The sound echoed through the woodlands, silencing any further conversation amongst the group.

"All of you, quiet. Now," Christopher ordered.

The six of them stood silent, watching and waiting, ever patient yet ever ready, too.

And then he caught it.

Christopher was the first of his brothers to notice the scent playing along the breeze.

It was faint at first, but rapidly becoming stronger, almost like the source itself was growing ever nearer.

A quiet whisper from Richard then, "You smell that too, right?"

Softly spoken agreements were made before the sound of footsteps could be heard. And then he saw her, they all did.

"Is that-?"

"Are they human?"

There was quiet disorder amongst his brothers, followed by someone swearing under their breath.

"Aw, fuck."

Christopher held up a hand to silence his brothers before taking a cautious step forward, his attention fixated on the girl.

She was indeed human, he could tell from her scent. And she hadn't yet spotted Christopher and his brothers- oh, no.

At that exact moment, she happened to look up, and her footsteps faltered, the poor girl freezing in her tracks.

How had one of his brothers so tactfully put it, only a few moments ago?

"Aw, fuck", indeed...

It had been a mistake to cut through this particular section of woodlands at this hour. You had thought it might save time to get you home, but now you were starting to regret your decision.

What little moonlight there was offered no help, only a few streaks here and there lighting your way ahead of you. One could easily get lost in these woods.

"One had easily gotten lost."

The errant thought made you smile, despite the rather unfortunate circumstances.

You glanced back behind you; there was a long way to go if you turned back now, surely you were only a mile or two from home...?

Turning back around, something made you suddenly freeze in place. Or rather, someone.

Six someones, to be exact.

You stood there as if paralyzed, your gaze fixed on the tallest of the figures, his eyes locked on yours in a silent stare-down.

And yet there was something oddly gentle about the way he looked at you, a touch of concern and what might have been pity, hidden in those dark eyes.

He took a step towards you, raising one gloved hand in a sign of peace, or perhaps merely a greeting.

"You shouldn't be out in these woods. This is no place for small, pure creatures like yourself."

His voice had a velvet smooth timbre to it, as easily soothing as it was intriguing. But the way he'd spoken, something about it was odd, it was very... elegant. Almost too elegant.

Still... there was something about him.

There was something equally as enticing about the others, too. All six of them, the tallest one included, seemed paler than normal. Then again, perhaps it was just the moonlight playing tricks with your eyesight.

The whole lot of them were clothed to the nines in head-to-toe black, each of them taking their own distinctive approach to it, their eyes lined in dark kohl of the same soulless shade.

Something about the whole group was slightly off-putting, and you weren't sure you liked the touch of hostility you could detect in the eyes of one of them. He was standing to the far right of the group, but he had easily caught your attention.

Where most of the others had hair nearly as dark as the clothing they wore, this one... his was a split dye, equal parts black as ink and pale as the moonlight filtering down from above.

He stood there staring at you with a poorly concealed look of irritation in his features, that aforementioned hostility displayed in those dark eyes.

"Cerulli, leave it. Let's go," he spoke up. His voice was as cold and callous as you imagined it to be, his eyes shifting to narrow at the tallest member of the group, the one you'd spotted first.

The one he called Cerulli held up a hand, silencing him, his gaze still fixed on you.

"It would appear we've gotten lost, no?"

There was amusement in his voice as he spoke directly to you, one thin, dark eyebrow raising slightly.

You found yourself nodding, unable to look away from the man's gentle eyes as he shook his head at you.

"Perhaps you would be better off out of these woods? It's not safe, darkness lurks within these shadows," he spoke again, his tone soft.

Only then were you able to find your voice, just barely.

"Should you be out here? Any of you, I mean? If it's not safe?" you asked.

You swore one corner of the man's mouth lifted in a brief smile before it vanished, as he took a step towards you, then another, until he was standing in front of you.

"Our safety should be of no concern to you. I'm quite sure we'll be alright. You, however," he reached out with one gloved hand as he spoke, lightly brushing the backs of his fingertips along your cheek, "your safety is of far more importance. Please, return home."

With that, he withdrew his hand, leaving behind a tingling feeling of emptiness, a sort of odd loneliness, where he touched you. You swallowed nervously, trying to find your voice again, and when you spoke, your words tripped over each other.

"I'm tr- I'm trying," you whispered.

He paused a moment, his eyes holding yours captive as he regarded you thoughtfully. And then he extended a hand out towards you, a silent offer of help.

The brief nagging thought that there might be possible danger lurking ahead slipped into your mind, but it was gone in an instant as you slowly placed your hand in his.

He might be your only way out of these woods, you hadn't seen any other sign of human life out here for miles.

The minute you placed your hand in his, there was an almost imperceptible shift in the air itself, you could feel it. He could feel it too, you knew he could.

The way his breath hitched in his throat for a moment, his steps faltering as he led you towards the others, the way his grip on your hand tightened briefly.

"Are... are you alright?" you whispered.

His eyes shifted to meet yours, a brief look of frenzied panic showing in their dark depths for a fraction of a second, before it was gone. He slowly nodded, leading you past the others without a word, though his expression remained uneasy.

You could hear the others following silently behind, although you thought you heard one of them mutter a swear word under their breath.

None of you spoke for the next few minutes, the only sound that of the leaves protesting beneath heavy footsteps, intermingled with the many woodland creatures hiding in the shadows.

And then a soft voice broke through the quiet of the night, from one of the people following behind you and the one they called Cerulli.

"I know that look, Christopher. It's happened, hasn't it?"

Ah, so that was his name, then.

Christopher Cerulli.

You had to admit, it did have a rather nice ring to it, a sort of old-world feel about it, every bit as elegant as the bearer of the name.

The man beside you shot a brief glance over his shoulder, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. "We'll discuss this later, Richard," he answered, his tone closing off any further conversation.

A deep sigh came from someone in the group, followed by some unintelligible, hastily muttered words from someone else.

The tension within the entirety of the group was as palpable as ever, though. You could feel it, could feel it in the way Christopher held tightly to your hand, could feel it in the way the others were trying earnestly not to reveal anything of importance in front of you.

And then all too soon, it began to dissipate, as the seven of you reached the edge of the treeline. You could see the outskirts of town from here, could hear the cars creeping along on the streets, the sounds of people going about their evening.

Christopher stopped short at the edge of the woods, though his hand remained firmly clasped around yours for a moment. You looked up at him, silently pleading with him with wide eyes to look back at you, but he wouldn't meet your gaze.

"This-- this is where I leave you," he spoke quietly, his words unsteady and holding a note of disappointment within them. Though his voice trembled, the words themselves spoke volumes. Was it perhaps that he wasn't quite ready to let you go just yet? Was that it?

His words almost an echo of your thoughts, the one they called Richard suddenly spoke up, his tone soft.

"Christopher... this is where we leave her. She needs to return home."

"Where she goes, you cannot follow," the one with the split-dyed hair spoke in agreement.

"Ghost is right, you cannot go with her. This is where she leaves, and we stay," Richard said quietly, his gaze shifting to rest on you.

There was something so patient, so gentle, about the way he watched you. It was reminiscent of the way Christopher had looked at you earlier that night, when you had first seen him.

"I... I don't-" Christopher began, his words cutting off as he finally, finally met your gaze. But now there was such sadness there, so sudden and unexplainable. For a moment, it looked as though his very heart must be breaking on the inside, though it was unclear to you why exactly that would be.

You swallowed hard, slowly nodding as you stared up at him. "I know. Um, th-thank you. You know, for- for helping me back there," you told him, your voice barely above a murmur.

You gave his black-gloved hand a gentle squeeze, before letting your hand slip from his as you stood on the tips of your toes, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I'll never forget your kindness..."

Taking a step back from him, you cast a look around at the others, some of them meeting your eyes and giving you a brief nod of acknowledgement. The one they called Ghost gave you a mere sideways glance before his eyes shifted to rest on Christopher.

The tall man in question wouldn't look away, his dark eyes fixed on you as you turned and began to slowly head towards the outskirts of town. You could feel him watching you as you walked, and when he suddenly spoke up, you stopped in your tracks, turning around to face him.

"Please get home safe, little mouse."

You offered him a patient smile, answering with a simple, "Y/N. Call me Y/N."

"Y/N..." he repeated softly.

The way he said your name, the way he seemed to indulge in each syllable, every letter, the way it fell effortlessly from his tongue...

You had no idea who he really was, but you knew one thing: you were going to miss him.

Whoever he was, you would miss him.

There was something unexplainable about him, something that made you feel safe, a feeling so rarely expressed when amongst complete strangers.

But him... he was different.

You weren't sure how, or why. But you knew without it having to be explained, you were safe, at least with him.

You gave him one last smile, waving farewell to him and his comrades, before turning and heading towards town.

Whoever he was, you wished nothing but the best for him tonight...

"Something has changed now, hasn't it?"

Richard was quiet, thoughtful, as he spoke directly to Christopher. His brother continued to watch the human girl retreat towards the edges of town, refusing to look away for even a second.

Upon not receiving a response, Richard continued on.

"It's her, isn't it? Something has shifted-" he began, only to be interrupted by one of his other brothers.

"If things have shifted, you know they'll all find out about it," Balz cut in.

There was a heavy sigh from Ghost, causing them all to turn their attention towards the older demon.

"Nothing has shifted, nothing has changed. He is to leave her alone. They don't need to find out about this. Any of it," he said, irritated.

"You do not get to make that call for me. And Richard is right. Something has changed," Christopher's voice was cold, defiant.

"Is it her?" his brother asked him, eliciting a nod from the eldest demon.

"I cannot- I... there's something about her. It's unclear what exactly yet, but it is her," he answered quietly.

"No. No. This is exactly what happened the last time, and we all remember how that ended! This is just like you and Lil-" Ghost started, but his brother cut him off midsentence.

"Don't. Don't you dare say her name, absolutely fucking not. That was in the past, this is now. This is different, she is different," he said harshly, turning to glare at the younger demon.

His brother opened his mouth in protest, but Christopher cut him off again with a shake of his head. "She. Is. Different," he repeated.

"Sola. Let it go, man. Things have already been set in motion," Vinny spoke up softly, his tone hesitant.

"I mean, I do think it might be worth mentioning, Balz did make a fair point. If you decide to go down this path, they will hear about it. Maybe not from any of us, but word will reach them in the Underground," Richard pointed out.

"What exactly are you saying?" Christopher began, a warning in his tone.

"He's saying you need to be careful. While it's evident you care about this girl, you need to tread lightly. She is human, we are not. Are you sure that's something you want to put her through? Just... be careful," Ryan cut in.

"We just don't want a repeat of what happened with Lilith," Richard said softly. Christopher knew deep down that his brothers were right, he knew it as well as they did. The last person he had allowed himself to become enamored with had grown weak, corrupted, the more days she'd spent around him.

Eventually, it had become too much for her, and her light had dimmed, flickered out until there was nothing left of who she was, who she used to be. He could still see her face sometimes if he tried hard enough, could memorize every detail of her, down to the soul within.

She had shined so brightly for him, had given him so much, she had been his everything. And he had corrupted all of it, corrupted her, dirtied up her soul, polluted it with his own darkness, quite without meaning to.

Lilith had been the one constant in his life, and he had taken that away from her.

Just like he would take it away from this girl, Y/N, his little mouse...

What if his brothers were right? What if he wasn't meant to involve himself so closely with her?

Then again... what if they were wrong?

If he could somehow overturn the balance of things, could alter whatever plans had been set into motion, maybe if he was careful enough--

Maybe there would be no bloodshed this time, no souls snuffed out, torn asunder, gone--

"Christopher."

Richard's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, dragging him back from old wounds and into the present.

"Look, brother. Whatever you decide, you need to be absolutely certain you see it to the end. If she is what you choose... you need to guard her closely."

"Fuck that, he's going to drag her down with him, just like he did with Lilith! And then we'll all be fucked," Ghost cut in with a hiss.

"We don't know that!" Balz argued, his tone sharp, taking them all by surprise.

Out of the six of them, Balz was normally the most carefree, his demeanor fairly easygoing, content, perhaps even a bit careless.

It was rather unlike him to snap at one of his brothers like this, regardless of the circumstances. He took a hesitant step towards Christopher, arching a brow at him.

"Do you honestly feel she's ready for all of this? Us, our world, what we are, all of it-- are you absolutely, without a fucking doubt, sure that she's ready to face all of that?" he asked.

"Let me ask you something," he continued. "Let me ask you this, and be honest with me, with all of us. You care about this girl, yeah? Something has changed, we know that now, we get it. But deep down, where it fucking counts-- are you really ready to lie down and take the fall for her like that?

"Because you know the minute you involve yourself with her, the minute you let her into our world, let her be a part of you, her name is gonna end up on their list."

"Her name will end up on our side's list as well," Richard quietly chimed in.

Balz nodded in agreement, casting a questioning look at his eldest brother. "Exactly. You ready to subject her to that?" he finished softly.

"I have no choice," Christopher answered, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

"There is no longer any foreseeable future where you see yourself without her, is there?" Richard asked him.

His brother's reply came in an instant.

"You already know the answer to that."

A ghost of a smile slipped across Richard's features before it vanished. "I do, yes. But I need to hear you say it, we all do."

There was a moment's silence before Christopher answered again, his tone somber.

"No. There is no foreseeable future without her in it."

There was a hiss of disgust from Ghost that went ignored, before Balz spoke up.

"Then it's decided. Christopher, I hope you know what the fuck you're doing. And... should things take a rather unfortunate turn, I'll be the first one in line to say I told you so?" he said with a faint grin.

Christopher's answering half-smile was visible for a mere slip of a moment before it was gone. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Balz," he said quietly.

"So... does this mean she's coming back? We're gonna see more of her, then?" Vinny's tone was hesitant, as he shot a brief look around at his brothers.

There were several nods and murmurs of assent, before Christopher spoke up.

"She... I... this is going to take time. For her, for me, all of us," he told his brothers.

"We understand. Just-- like I said earlier, be careful. She's too young to have her soul taken from her like that. Just make sure this is what you really want," Ryan said.

Christopher's answer was softly spoken, but every single one of his brothers heard it.

"She is what I really want."

It was true. What he had felt earlier that night, when he'd offered her his hand as a sign of help, a sign of reassurance, that everything would be okay--

And she'd willingly placed her small hand within his own-

The spark he had felt, the sheer panic, and hope, and just that sudden sense of belonging, of home-

He'd known in an instant.

There was something about her that would change him, change his brothers.

There was something about her that would change the very course of time as he knew it, something that would rip through the fabric of whatever previous plans had been woven and laid to rest.

Tonight had not been without purpose.

Maybe she was his purpose...

Either way, he was going to find out.

Even if it killed him.

🎃TAGLIST: @synthetic-wasp-570 @motionlessomens @annateagan @nixwolfe @veroxbarnes @vermilionnnn

[fandomidiot]

Never really made one of these before and I know this sorta thing has probably been talked about but I read this paper about consent in Teen Wolf (focusing a lot on Scott and Allison) and I guess it got me thinking about how consent is kind of a major theme surrounding Scott in season 1.

So there's the obvious in the pilot episode "Wolf Moon". Scott is alone in the woods when he is attacked and bitten by Peter in wolf form. This is already a pretty violent and traumatizing experience but it's one that Scott literally can't put behind him because Peter has forced this transformation on him. And yeah "It's werewolf powers. They're so cool. What's he complaining about?!". The thing is, YOU may want these abilities but Scott never asked for them.

The thing about Peter's bite though is it doesn't only turn him into a werewolf. It splits him and his entire world in two. He is the teen or the wolf but he is never both. He is the wolf in this crazy, horrifying part of his life with the people that know (Stiles, Derek, Chris) and a teen in this blissful, innocent side with the people that don't (Melissa, Allison).

In his werewolf life, he constantly has people forcing him to accept these labels, roles and identities that he, again, never asked for. Stiles informs him he is a werewolf, which he promptly refuses. Derek comes along with his "we're brothers now" speech, which he is not a fan of. Chris shows up and starts shooting at Scott because he "hunts those that hunt others", a description Scott doesn't fit.

But then there's the other side of his life where he gets to just enjoy being a teenager. He gets to play lacrosse and fall in love with Allison (a relationship in which they both have full autonomy). These are quite insignificant in the grand scheme of things but he clings to them so desperately because they're things he got to choose for himself.

[PS: while looking around Tumblr to see if anyone already made a similar post I saw this really good one that discusses agency and autonomy in TW in regards to all seasons & characters so check it out]

[clubwnderland]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝑛 [𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛]

[Part One][Part Two][Part Three][Part Four][Part Five][Part Six]

CW: death, blood, violence and other dark themes are spoken about so please do not read if you are not comfortable. If you have read this far and want to know how this works out, it'll be in the tags.

"Somi!" Mikyoung reacts quickly, running towards the stairs before a blast throws the door open and causes everyone to startle. The omega looks over her shoulder and notices several cloaked men walking into foyer, splitting off into different directions but she doesn't stay put to see if they come for her.

Vibrations shake the house as explosions echo around the house, keeping anyone who tries to run outside from doing so in fear of being hit. The attack comes suddenly, swiftly, and from all directions. Even as Mikyoung makes it up the stairs, she realises that they are not safe, the pup who had been told to wash her hands being dragged out of the bathroom with a hand over her mouth to keep her from alerting anyone else.

"Let her go!" Mikyoung grabs the witch by the back of his robe, managing to throw him off guard, letting go of the pup as he falls to the ground. "Run, hide, don't come out until I say so." She lets the pup run off, turning to face the man getting up and hoping she can fight him off long enough for the pup to get away.

Chan had immediately passed the pup to one of the house keepers, telling them all to grab as many of the pups as they can and get away before an explosion throws him off balance and causes his hearing to ring loudly. It's only for a moment, the disorientation managing to disappear quickly but not quick enough as a cloaked figure runs past him and chases after the pups.

"No, you don't." He manages to tackle them down, punching them several times to knock them out until he hears Channie shouting, hearing him tell the kids to run as the house is overrun by witches.

Channie is thrown back against the wall, his head hitting the solid wood hard as he falls to his knees. The kid he had been protecting grabbed, kicking and screaming for Channie to help him, save him.

Please.

Please save him.

Before the witch knocks him out.

Screams sounding moments before they are silenced and the two Alphas watch as the captured pups are carried outside.

It happens almost in slow motion. The way Channie's entire demeanour shifts, his body tensing as a deep growl echoes through the room. Chan knows that this is the only way they can actually save anyone, the only way that they can save themselves but Channie's shift isn't being triggered because he needs to protect himself.

It's because he needs to protect those pups.

"Faster!" Hongjoong shouts from the back seat, Jongin sitting next to him listening to his phone continue to ring before he punches the seat in front of him, startling Luna. "The blood was still warm, they can't have been too far ahead of us."

Chris' foot presses down on the accelerator, breaking the speed limit as they rush through the streets, the other cars on their tail. "I'm going as fast as I can. Have you gotten a hold of anyone at the house?"

Jongin shakes his head and Hongjoong grabs his phone to call Mikyoung, "you better answer phone, Mi." He growls deeply only to be met with her answering machine.

"Hey! It's Mikyoung, I'm so sorry I can't take your call right now but if you leave your-"

"Fuck!" He crushes the device in his hand and throws the pieces out the window. "Go. Faster. Chris."

He is. As fast as the car can take them, Chris is pushing it to its limit.

But it isn't enough.

Mikyoung manages to get past the witch, some commotion downstairs momentarily diverting his attention and allowing her to run and help some pups hide.

"In here," she throws open the closet door and reveals a hidden room that can hide some of the pups in case of emergency. Chris had shown it to her earlier in the week, knowing that things were getting dangerous but nobody would have thought this was going to happen. "Quick, get in and don't come out until I come and get you." They whimper as she closes the door to the room and hides it once more behind a false wall.

"Where's the bitch?" She hears coming from the hallway, footsteps getting closer and she knows she has to take them away from this room.

"Check all the rooms."

Making sure that everything looks normal, undisturbed, Mikyoung closes the closet quietly and makes her way to the bathroom that connects to the room next door. She tries to make as little noise as possible until she reaches the hallway and grabs the witch's attention but it seems that as fast as she is - they were prepared for her.

"Gotcha." A loud ringing in her ears causes her to drop to the ground, clutching her head as she starts to scream. The two witches surround her, one casting a spell to keep her screaming in pain and the other crouching down to inject her with wolfsbane. The way it sears through her system, burning her insides and causing to writhe has the men chuckling, enjoying her suffering until one swift kick to her stomach causes enough pain to shut her brain down. "Sleep well~."

Even with their magic, the witches aren't fast enough for the wolves who are driven by their need to protect the pups. The witches had incapacitated some of the wolves who were outside, knocking some out but they hadn't anticipated those arriving back to the house.

Wolves flock in. Barking and growling fills the house and the witches shout to try and gather their bearings as they are suddenly surrounded by the same creatures they want to destroy.

But while they had the element of surprise - their magic isn't strong enough to take on the masses coming through the doors.

Or for the two Alphas now standing at their full height and bearing their sharp teeth, licking their lips as they look at the enemy who dared to attack them.

Channie's eyes flicker to the poor pup still laying on the ground, the one who was calling for him to help and then back to the witch who did that to him. Without hesitating, Channie launches at the man, Chan lunging at another and as if that was permission - screams ring through the air once more.

Not the screams of the children who were scared and running but the screams of their attackers as they are torn to shreds.

It's a blood bath, crimson splattering on the walls before heads fall to the floor and large paws leave messy prints on the once pristine hardwood floors. A couple of their wolf brethren lay unresponsive on the ground, silver knives dug deep into their chests but the toll on the witches greatly outweigh the loss the wolves have taken.

Channie's teeth tear out a man's throat, the crunching of his bones can be heard as the other men are subdued, captured by some of the wolves who have shifted back. They shiver in fear as they are approached by Chan, the Alpha's white coat tainted red before his attention is pulled elsewhere and he takes off - Channie assuming his place.

Saliva and blood sprays as Channie growls right in a man's face, snapping his jaws as if in warning before walking over to the unconscious pup, nudging it with his nose to try and wake him up. He knows, even if not fully aware, he knows that if the pup doesn't awaken that there will be no one left to question.

No witch will leave this place alive if any of the pups are hurt in any severe way.

He waits, standing over the small body, keeping anyone from moving closer until he hears it - a groan. As if his aggression melted away, Channie begins to lick the pup's face, his chops still coated in fresh blood but he doesn't care.

The pup is safe. They are all safe. That's all the Alpha thinks about as he cleans the boy's face and moves on to check on the others, the boy resting on his back.

[lavellenchanted]

book recs!! anything witchy will do!

Oooh I love doing book recs, OKAY, witchy-themed books:

Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher - I finished this recently and it's a really lovely dark fairy tale style story, in which a princess seeks out magical help to kill the prince that's been abusing her sister.

The Scholomance trilogy by Naomi Novik - a fantastic trilogy set in a very dark, twisted magic school, following Galadriel 'El' Higgins as she tries her resist her destiny to become an evil sorceress.

Sorceror to the Crown by Zen Cho - a regency set fantasy following Zacharias Wythe, the first Black Sorceror Royal, who is trying to discover why Britain's magic stocks are drying up. A really fun read with a really interesting take on the fairy realm.

Literally anything by Diana Wynne Jones but for particular witch feels Witch Week is great - it's middle grade but still really fun to read as an adult, set in a boarding school where one of the students has been anoymously accused of being a witch in a world where witchcraft is illegal.

Wicked Like a Wildfire by Lana Popovic - Iris and her sister Malina are descended from a family of witches taught to keep their powers a secret and never to fall in love. But when their mother's attacked, they set out to find the truth and discover that there's a curse haunting their family.

Shades of Milk and Honey by Marie Robinette Kowal - another regency set one, that's very Jane Austen with magical powers, where manipulation of glamour is an essential accomplishment for young ladies.

A Madness of Angels by Kate Griffin - an urban fantasy following sorceror Matthew Swift who finds himself resurrected from the dead after being murdered three years ago. He's got two questions: who killed him? And who brought him back?

Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett - an absolutely stellar book, in which the witches Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat find meddling in royal affairs isn't that easy ...

The Witch Trade by Michael Molloy - I read this when I was eleven or twelve and it has etched itself into my pyche, and is such a fun, exciting middle grade adventure.

The Worst Witch by Jill Murphy - I don't care how old you are, if you haven't read this you should. Mildred Hubble's misadventures at Miss Cackle's Academy of Witches are just iconic.

Poison by Chris Wooding - this isn't about a witch, exactly, but it has very witchy, fairy tale vibes and I adore it so I'm going to include it. It follows a young woman called Poison who sets out to reclaim her sister from the fairies after she's stolen and replaced with a changeling, but finds a much bigger adventure waiting for her.

Okay, that's a lot of witchy books so I will stop there before this gets too unwieldy but I highly recommend all of these!!

[summercourtship]

this is my second time posting this here- I had to fix a few things with it so here it is again!

contamination, pt two. (originally called first day)

DBD!Wesker x Reader | mature | warnings: canon typical violence, some sexual themes, my stupid glove kink(TM) | word count: 3250

part one | ao3 link

After your first time meeting Wesker, you thought about him more often than you would ever admit. His identity hadn’t remained a secret for long, what with at least six survivors knowing him.

And word spreads fast in the Fog. It's not like there's anything else to do.

Soon, everyone was privy to the various misdeeds from his past- from not showing up to (most) of the STARS teams’ bar nights all the way to trying to unleash a bio weapon onto the world.

It was quite a rap sheet he'd built up.

Even though your interest was piqued, you rarely found yourself asking those who knew him for more information. Not because you didn’t want it, no. You craved it. But even you couldn’t figure out why you were reluctant to acknowledge his existence to others. Was it because you were afraid that they might see through your carefully neutral face right to the real reason why you wanted to hear more about him? Maybe.

Or maybe you wanted to pretend like you were the only one who knew of him, that you had something special. You didn’t want to hear that he toyed with everyone like that, or that he probably didn’t even remember you. That it was all just part of a larger game that you couldn’t see.

For just a little while you wanted to pretend that someone wanted you. You had so few things going for you anymore that you almost felt owed this. You overanalyzed his words to you, the way his gloved thumb traced your lip and held your face, how he watched as you dangled on a literal hook in front of you.

Maybe you’d run into him and realize you had read much too into it. But for now, you only had your memories to hold onto, to try and seek answers from.

Over and over you ran through it, barely stopping when you were called into a Trial. You allowed yourself a few gloriously anxious moments to hope for Wesker to be your chosen foe only for it to be revealed that it was the fucking Nurse. Again.

By then, you’d all but give up. You wouldn’t let yourself die, per se, but any spark- any true fight- you had would leave the moment you realized it wasn’t him.

It was a vicious habit, one that would not sustain itself for much longer. You were on the verge of going foraging only to throw whatever plants you could find into the fire in the hopes that it might appease the Entity and let you see Wesker again.

“You okay?”

You looked up from where you had been staring into the flames of the Campfire. Chris stood next to you, the orange glow casting his face in a shadow.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been keeping to yourself lately.”

“Have I?” You were obviously distracted, from life in general and this conversation. Your feet still itched to go- to enter the woods and find some flower that would do the impossible and match you in a Trial with Wesker.

Chris gave you a look- the kind that said don’t kid yourself. You didn’t know what to say in response, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Just-” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “if you ever need to talk…”

“Got it.” Just give him a thin lipped smile. Enough to say I appreciate it but I’m not in the mood to chat.

“I mean it.”

“Okay. I’m fine, Chris, really.”

The way he stood there squashed any desire to forage. You were sure that if you left, he would follow you. And nothing is more awkward than that, right? Someone thinking that you’re in a worse place than you really are and so they think at any moment you’re gonna try and off yourself.

Jokes on you, Chris. That doesn’t work here.

That, or he suspected something else. Maybe Chris was more astute that you first realized. ___

The cold of Léry’s was different from that of Ormond or the Red Forest. It was dull, the kind of cold that you don’t realize has set into your bones until you begin to shiver.

You quickly begin to search the labyrinthine halls of the hospital for a generator, knowing that getting one out of the way early could help you later. If you couldn’t find one quickly, you’d just head to the center room where there was almost always a gen waiting. Sometimes when you were feeling particularly brave (as you weren’t right now) you would seek out some sign of the Killer. Just so you could know who you were up against, what you had to do to avoid being Sacrificed. The quiet Killers thrived here and the long hallways sometimes actually helped the ones with projectiles.

But something in your gut told you to lay low. Do not seek out trouble right now, it said, it will find you soon enough.

So you listened, sitting down at the first generator you saw. The window above you rustled from the constant gusts of wind, letting in small bursts of biting cold to add to the wintery ache you were already in. The only warmth came with the sparks hitting your skin from the wires and gears inside the generator. And that barely lasted a second, tiny pinpricks of heat burning you for a moment before they disappeared.

Your ears picked up the sound of someone walking towards you. Tensing, you look out of the corner of your eye and only relax when it's clear it's just Chris and he is alone. Wordlessly he kneels next to the generator and picks up two wires.

“Any sign?” You ask, your voice quiet underneath the slow crescendo of the gen.

He sighs and you’re not sure if the furrow in his brow is from frustration with the situation or concentration on his task.

“Wesker.”

Your hand slips. The generator blows, the noise echoing in the dusty hallway. Waving the smoke out of the way, you dive back in, ignoring the curious look Chris threw your way.

“How-” Your voice cracks and you clear your throat. It’s just the dust, right? “How do you know? Have you seen him?”

“No but I got this.” He removes his hands from the gen, pulling a green aerosol can from his side. He’d kept it in his now empty gun holster and you envy it- extra pockets were nice. “D’ya want it?” He had caught how you were eying it. Truthfully, you didn’t necessarily want the canister- there were plenty around the map, you were sure. But your eyes where fixed on it and that was because it was tangible proof that he was here.

“Keep it.” He nods and turns back to the generator, which was almost done. Somewhere across the map a chime rings out. It seems your other teammates have been busy, too. But their completion of their generator triggered the Entity’s claws to spring up around the machine you’d been working on, you and Chris both jumping out of the way to avoid being cut. They hissed and clicked like some sort of insect, the generator chugging on underneath. So close to being finished, but thwarted at the last second.

It seems that Wesker has learned some new tricks since you saw him last.

Chris sighs. “C’mon, let’s go find another.”

You knew that with every passing second the likelihood of running across the Killer was larger and larger, especially since it seemed he had no attention on anyone else. Then what, exactly, was he doing?

“Hey, Chris-” You paused, your ears perking at an unfamiliar sound. He turned around, and you barely registered his eyes widening before you took off running, vaulting over the nearest window. You landed in a shower room, the air dank with stale water. By the sound that followed, Chris was right behind you. Part of you wanted to yell at him not to follow you but you figured he had a plan. You paused for him and only started moving when he grabbed your arm, almost throwing you forward. But your feet felt cemented to the ground.

“You go, I’ll take the heat!”

You need to run. You need to, but you can barely lift your feet for a few seconds. Chris is still standing there, obviously to get Wesker’s attention.

“Chris!” It was his voice, the voice that had haunted you, snide and sneering, and you couldn’t help yourself. You looked behind you, desperate to confirm that it was him.

He was vaulting over the window into the room, his boots scuffing on the loose tiles. His knife was drawn, and his hair slightly tousled. You couldn’t tell where his gaze was fixed through his dark glasses but a silly part of you hoped that he at least glanced your way. Like this was a normal interaction in a normal world where the only thing you had to worry about was the object of your infatuation not thinking about you.

Chris looked back at you and you couldn’t tell if his expression was exasperation or desperation. But he yelled your name and a quick “Go!” before he ran right toward Wesker. And as much as you would like to see what happened next, you knew that to keep standing here would be a certain death sentence. You finally turned and ran, only stopping when your heart stopped racing from Wesker’s presence, when you couldn’t hear his and Chris’ exchange of words. You had no doubt that Chris would run soon, given the (unfair) advantage that Wesker held. But the Chris you knew also wouldn’t hesitate to physically fight Wesker, no matter the advantages given to him by the Entity.

You pressed yourself against a wall, the tiles cool against your back- even through your clothes. Just need to catch my breath, then I’ll continue on. Maybe find that generator, it should be fine by now, right? You didn’t bring anything into this Trial but you now wished you had, if just to have something to distract your hands with. Gradually your breath slowed and you could continue on down the hall.

Another gen chimed and you thought that if you got out, you would have to remember to thank your teammates. It was a good team, to be fair. You, Chris, Adam, Jake. A team of serious men… and you. But you weren’t going to let being the only woman on the team freak you out. Sure, with a Killer like the Clown or Doctor it could suck since they seemed to relish in torturing you because you were female. But you hoped that Wesker wasn’t like that.

But then, given what your mind had been like recently, would you have truly minded? Yes, you answered yourself. Because deep down you wanted him to be intrigued by you, not your sex or something as superficial as that.

Your thoughts were interrupted by one of the worst sounds in the Fog- the cry of someone being downed, which was (normally) followed swiftly by their shriek after being hooked. Surely enough, Chris’s guttural scream broke through the hospital. You immediately turned and started to run to him, guilt gnawing at your gut when you realized he was in the Basement.

He, like Jill, yanked Wesker’s attention away from you and ended up on a hook because of it. And you weren’t able to save Jill last time- maybe you could help Chris, give him a temporary reprieve from being the target. You could handle it.

There was no sign of the Killer as you entered the center room, not hesitating in running down the wooden stairs that seemed oddly out of place in the cement and metal room. The stairs creaked under you, their uneven boards squeaking and groaning. You could hear Chris’s moans of pain, and hurried into the dark room.

There Chris was, hanging from the furthest hook from the entrance. He, like most smart Survivors, simply hung there, not bothering to try and lift himself off. That was an action you only took when you had no other hope of escaping.

You rushed over to him, not hesitating to put your hands on his hips. You lifted, grunting as Chris did his best to aid you in lifting him off the hook. You practically drop him after, gasping from exertion. But Chris was already pulling you towards the stairs, his other hand holding his wound. You stopped on the landing, moving so you could see what he needed to be patched up. Chris wasn’t having it, tugging on your arm again. You didn’t doubt that if he needed to he could physically drag you away.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here-”

“Just let me heal you-”

“I just left to find you.” A third voice, a hauntingly familiar one, chimed it from above you. “But it seems you’re faster than I gave you credit for.”

You raise your gaze up the stairs, even though you knew what you’d see. Wesker stood, looking down at the two of you, his frame lit by the orange glow of the basement.

Chris pushed you behind him, shielding you from the heat of Wesker’s eyes. But no matter what happened, you both were trapped. If you made a run for it, it was likely you’d both be downed before you could even leave the center room.

“You think you can protect her?” Wesker chuckled. “That you can distract me just so you can stab me with a hidden shard of glass you have tucked away in your pocket and then you both get away from me?”

“Chris, let me distract him, please.” Your voice was barely audible to your own ears but you knew he heard you from the way he glanced at you from the side of his eye. A subtle nod. Your plan wasn’t smart and wasn’t guaranteed to even do anything. But you had to try, at least so Chris could leave and heal himself.

Wesker had started to walk down the stairs, languid in his movements. He knew you two were fish in a barrel. He didn’t need to move quickly. You took a deep breath before darting around Chris and running straight to Wesker. You thought he’d be surprised, and maybe he was for a second. But he didn’t show it, instead immediately grabbing you by the throat, pulling you towards him and twisting you down, your back hitting the stairs. Pain blossomed where the edge of each stair dug into your flesh, Wesker’s grip tight on your neck.

You pulled at his hand, trying to get him to loosen his grip. Chris was still at the bottom of the stairs, yelling something. Your head was ringing and you couldn’t be bothered to try and figure out what exactly he was saying.

Wesker leaned over you, his face twisted into a snarl. “First Jill, now Chris. Why are they so intent on protecting you?”

You couldn’t speak. Even if you could, you wouldn’t know what to say. The only thought running through your mind was let me go. Chris might have been echoing the sentient, you didn't know.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Don’t listen to him, your mind supplied. But it was impossible not to hear the words he was hissing in your ear. “If you can hide from me until I kill the others, I’ll let you go.”

What’s the catch, you wanted to ask. Maybe he saw it in your eyes because he chuckled again, the dark sound echoing in your mind.

“No catch, I promise.” He pulls back slightly, but still speaks so quietly that Chris cannot hear. “But if anyone gets out, I’ll see that you pay for it.”

With a final squeeze of your throat he lets you go and you greedily gulp in air even as he still looms above you. Your chest heaves as you gasp and struggle to pull yourself into a slightly more comfortable position. Wesker turns to Chris.

“I’ll give you a five second head start, for old times sake.”

___

But despite the head start, it didn’t take long for his scream to break the eerie silence of the hospital again.

This time you just turned your head away, ignoring the pull in your gut to find and help him. This is your fault.

You wander through the halls, freezing at every noise. Wesker had never said what would happen to you if he found you before the others were dead. He had only offered two options- freedom for their deaths or punishment for their lives. But nothing about the third, obvious outcome.

Besides that, there wasn’t much you could do to keep the others from escaping. You weren’t about to sabotage them or their generators, no matter what threats Wesker threw your way. So the only thing you really could do was pray to the Entity, of all things, that Wesker proved more than capable of taking Adam and Jake out before they completed three more generators. You hadn’t seen either of them all Trial and doubted that they had gone to save Chris. With how quickly he had been put back on the Hook, it would seem like the Killer had tunnel vision for him.

Passing by a dull Totem, you shrug and kneel by it. Cleansing had never really been your thing but you had nothing else to do now that you were officially playing Wesker’s game.

You just finished pulling the bones apart when Jake’s short yelp reached your ears. And then Adam’s. You froze, waiting for their screams of being hooked.

But they never came and you realized the catch to your game. You knew neither of them had the ability to pull themselves up from being on the ground which meant they’d be bleeding out slowly over the next few minutes.

Wesker had only one goal now, and that was to find you. And you had no idea what would happen when he did. Would he simply kill or torture you? Or would he continue to toy with you, give you more of a reason to think about him when you were back at the Campfire?

Shakily, you stood and crossed the hallway into one of the long rooms with hospital beds. For a moment you considered hiding underneath one, when a force struck you from behind, lifting you.

The sensation of being literally thrown through the air was one that was hard to get used to. Your shoulder caught the brunt of the momentum as you hit the nearest wall, your entire right side crashing against the tiles with a sickening crunch. You slid down onto the floor, too disoriented and weak to consider picking yourself up to continue running.

Two black boots stepped into your vision but you couldn’t lift your head. Just pick me up and get this over with. You’d lost.

But instead, Wesker kneeled in front of you. You started to lift your head to look at him but he beat you to the punch, his hand coming to clench in your hair with a vice-like grip and wrench your head up. You stare up into his face as he looms over your crumpled figure.

He had no right to be as handsome as he was.

“Such a mess.” He tutted, the sound sending shivers across your skin. His thumb stroked against your jaw, almost comforting. But you knew, even through your disoriented haze, that it was a mocking gesture.

“You tricked me.” It sounded petulant even to your ears.

“I never said it would be a fair fight, dear.” Teasing. You swallowed, and you could faintly see his gaze behind his glasses flicker as your throat bobbed.

“What do you want from me?” It came out a whisper.

He hummed, as if he hadn’t thought of it. As if you hadn’t thought of what you would give him. But then he grinned like a cat that got the cream, a cruel glint in his eye.

“I’m going to break you. And I’m going to make you enjoy it.”

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[fraddit]

This is a new post in my series of three four about Eddie’s house on 9-1-1.

part one, part two, part three | Buck’s loft

Since 5b blessed us with lots of looks at Eddie’s room (finally!!), I wanted to do an update to my model of Eddie's house.  Rather than alter my original post, I’m just making a new one to tack on.  So, let’s get started.

Here’s the floor plan view.  They changed the door into the room from both the S2 House and from what we saw a glimpse of in S3.  So the door now swings inward.  They also removed a window and moved the closet from right by the door into the room to over on the other side of Chris’s closet, which makes the room bigger (And also leaves a weird empty space hiding in the walls, but it's fine. I'm fine.).

And Eddie has used his new bigger room to fit his new treadmill.

More views and details under the cut!

The furniture is all pretty similar to what we saw in S2 but not exactly the same.  He’s got a contemporary, metal bed frame that’s either a queen or a full.  There’s a very low headboard.  The bedspread is blue and white plaid.  The two matching end tables are wood with similar metal frames to the bed.  There’s two matching lamps with sort of beige ceramic bases and kind of dark muted mauve lampshades.  On the table next to Eddie’s side of the bed, closest to the door, is an analogue alarm clock and a tray to hold what I’m guessing are his pocket items like keys and wallet.

Under the bed is a large woven rug in a muted green color. And above the bed is a ceiling fan.

Across from the bed, between the door into the room and the closet door is a mid century style wood dresser.  Sitting on top of this dresser is another ceramic lamp, this time in a blue color with white or beige shade.  Next to that is the only visible photo in the room.  It’s of Eddie and Chris hugging Shannon on Christmas in S2.  In front of that is Eddie’s Silver Star.  And next to that is a low profile decorative wooden box.

There’s a piece of art hanging on the wall above this dresser, but the only glimpse of it I could get was enough to know that there’s a white matte and the lower right corner is some shade of brownish.  So, I’ve taken the liberty of choosing a desert art print to match the other desert art in his room.  I’m pretty confident that it is actually some sort of nature art, because all of the art in Eddie’s house is nature art.  The living room is tree/forest stuff with one water fall.  The dining room and hallway are ocean and water.  Chris has his own stuff, but there’s also the Redwood poster and he has a lot of animals.  And Eddie’s room seems to be desert themed, which is why I stuck with desert for this mystery art.

Along the far wall is the treadmill.  It faces the closet door.  We never got to see this wall pre destruction, so I don’t know if the destroyed frame we see in the aftermath was on this wall or was the piece from over the dresser I just discussed.  So, this wall could be blank or not.  There’s no telling.

Behind the treadmill, in the corner, is another taller and narrower wood dresser. It’s got a nice bonsai tree sitting on it that looks to be a jade tree.

In shots of Eddie’s destroyed room when Buck breaks down the door, there’s a floor lamp next to this dresser that is not visible in any of the shots from 5x11, so I didn’t add it here.  My take is that that lamp was added specifically in that scene for lighting and effect.  There’s also a wicker basket that I assume is for laundry next to Eddie when he’s crying with the bat, but I’m not sure where in the room it normally lives.

Next to the dresser is the only window in the room, which is centered on the wall.  There are some light brown/beige blackout curtains and also mini blinds for window treatment. There's vegetation visible outside the window.

On the other side of the window is a small piece of art.  It’s a pretty desert scene in blues and pinks with saguaro cacti at either sunrise or sunset.

And there you have it.  Eddie’s room!

If you got this far, thanks for reading all of this.  I hope this is helpful or at least interesting. 💕

[twoheartshookingup]

Day Two: formal wear with Deacon Kay

This post is 18+, containing sexual themes. Please do not interact if you are under eighteen. Kinktober masterlist.

“David?” You called out into the quiet room, heels clicking on the wood floor. This was the very last thing you’d wanted to do, dressed in finery for some LAPD event that would be filled with everyone. But it was what you’d signed up for with the slim ring on your finger, so the maroon cocktail dress went on.

“I’m ready, I’m rea…you look amazing.” He was in his jet black dress uniform, white gloves on his hands. But your fiancé’s gaze was trained straight on you and your outfit.

“You scrub up well yourself. Ready?”

He held his arm out for you to take as the two of you left the house.

It was, as you’d expected, extremely boring in the event. There were speeches and toasts, meeting Nichelle and Bonnie’s faces with the bored glances you shared. Having others there made it a little easier, at least.

But finally it was onto the drinking and dancing portion of the evening, the much more fun time. The three partners who weren’t in LAPD were bored by everything, but Deacon took your hand to lead you onto the quickly filling floor.

“Having fun, Sergeant?” You asked, an amused smile as you watched him look down at you.

“I mean I have the perfect view, so definitely.” You followed his eyes down and realised that he was perfectly able to see down your tits, the lacy red cups of the basque you were wearing.

“Cheeky!” It was a light admonishment, but his hand tightened against your back.

“I just like looking at my boobs. I mean you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“You know I am, Sergeant.”

But he gave you an idea that you couldn’t wait to see how he’d react, so once he went to the bar you returned to the 20 squad table, sitting beside Street.

“You’ll dance with me, won’t you?” You turned to look at him, Chris raising an eyebrow. “Chris doesn’t want to dance, she doesn’t want people to make comments about her leaving LAPD. So you’ll dance with me, right?”

You stood and let him take your arm, Street’s hand in the small of your back as he spun you around. But when you were back at the table you could see the tic on your fiancés face that showed your plan to make him jealous had worked.

The Uber home was quiet, hand in hand until he helped you out of the car and into the house. But once you were in things changed. Deacon pushed you against the wall, palming one breast as his other hand rested at the column of your throat.

“Enjoy making me jealous tonight?” You shook your head, but his fingers tightened so slightly against you, making you swallow. “I know that’s what you were doing with Street. But you’re my good slut, aren’t you?”

It was to the bedroom, Deacon pulling you along as you kicked off your shoes, one of his hands in your hair. You were pushed to the bed, your ass pulled back so you were on hands and knees.

“You don’t get to cum tonight. This is to show you how much better I can fuck you instead of anyone else. I know how you need this.”

Your skirt was pulled up and you heard before you felt your underwear being ripped away.

“Hey! They were-“ your words were cut off by a rush of air as a slap hit your ass, a groan of pleasure following as Deacon massaged the now warm skin.

“I’ll get a new pair. You’d ruined them anyway, I can smell you from here. I just need to taste you.”

You thought he was half joking, but his lips and tongue split your lower lips, a long stripe up your slit making you buck, but a hand on your lower back kept you still.

The sensations were so much, his fingers entering and fucking you as his lips sucked on your clit. It was every sensation that you loved and your moans kept getting louder.

“Deacon. Please. Please!” You begged, but instead of giving you what you craved he stopped, leaving a kiss on your clit before stepping back.

You wanted to look behind you but you knew that was going to be the wrong move. Your tits were falling out of your dress, the previously pristine fabric bunched around your middle. The only thing left mostly on was the basque and you knew that was coming off soon. Before the thought of what was next came, there was a sudden intrusion and Deacon pushed into you to fill you totally. Your lover put one hand on your throat to pull you up, your back against his chest as the other hand began to pinch and pull at a nipple.

“So fuckin’ good for me. So good. I can feel just how much you need this isn’t that right?”

“It’s only you. I need you. Please. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours. Always yours.”

He pulled you tighter to him and you could feel the cool metal of his cross necklace against your shoulder blades as he thrust into you harder and harder. The pleasure was overwhelming, and he knew so well just how to get you to the edge but not over. Once he set that decision that you couldn’t cum it wouldn’t be overturned and he could play your body so well.

“Gonna fill you up. Make you forget everyone else, I’m the only person you’ll ever want. Just us.”

His thrusts stuttered against you, pushing you against the bed as his arms caged you in. It didn’t take more than a few moments for him to roll off you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured as you clung to his shoulders.

“I love you too.”

You both needed to change and clean up, but instead you stayed there, fabric bunched on your abdomen as the two of you held tightly together.