#who she just murdered on stage for everyone to see

[1lovehanni]

Fun in Fanmeet (Minju of ILLIT)

Minju x Male Reader (Y/N) Wort count: 2087 words Summary: A fan meeting leads to a fun experience for you.

You have been a fan of Minju ever since RU next; the way she has the visual and talent of a perfect idol is what captured your heart.

She has a unique voice, is a wonderful dancer, has a great personality, and lastly, has a gorgeous visual.

She indeed has such K-actress beauty that if she had pursued her acting career rather than her idol career, she would still flourish.

You’ve been playing the Super Real Me album 24/7, thinking of how this group started from being a nobody to a hit with their title song Magnetic. Eventually, a fanmeet has been announced in their official Twitter account. Reading through it, you saw a chance of having a one-on-one conversation with a member, but it was a random draw during the event. Nonetheless, the important part is to attend your favourite group and meet Park Minju. After the 150th album you just bought, you finally got a ticket for the fanmeet. A week has passed, and the day of the fanmeet is here. You’ve dressed as well as you can. You arrived early to the venue and chatted with some fans. And patiently waited for the fan meet to begin.

After some time, a staff member walked to the stage and announced that the fan meet was about to begin. Excitement rises in yourself; you're about to see Minju in real life. A loud cheer as the members each slowly walk. Yunah was dead gorgeous; same with Iroha and Moka. Then there’s the cutest Wonhee, but your eyes fixated on your princess, the queen of your dreams, the one and only Minju. The flower crown on her head makes her an angel that comes down from heaven to save you. Nonetheless, the fanmeet is starting with their hit song Magnetic. After that, they introduced themselves. Doing challenges, literally being themselves. Two hours have passed, everyone still has the energy to cheer, and the girls are still entertaining. But every event has to come to an end; eventually they draw the winner for the one-on-one convo. Since there are a lot of fans who attended, you thought that there's no chance you can win one, let alone win for Minju. But as the staff was picking the winner for Minju, they called in the person, but they had already left, so they redrawn again. This time, luck had come to you when they called your name.

Y/N is selected for Minju; please come right to the stage. You're dazzled by the announcement, and fans near you congratulate you for winning. You followed the instructions to come near the stage. They gave the five winners an envelope with the time and place where they could have a chit-chat with the idols. 

For you, the time is from 10pm to 12 midnight; you thought it's kind of late for a fan meet. It feels like a date for you, which isn't a bad thing but suspicious nonetheless. And the meeting place is private, which makes sense since it's a one-on-one conversation. Arriving at the place, it seems so empty—just 2 bodyguards and 1 staff member. You greeted them and handed them the invitation. Welcome Sir. Y/N, congratulations! Enjoy your date with Minju. ? Huh, did I hear you right? They didn’t talk after that. You entered the place and saw a table for two with a couch right next to it. You didn't mind the place, but suspicion arises since you haven't heard anything for the past 5 minutes. Walking to the door, you noticed the bodyguards and the staff left. You heard footsteps walking toward the door. You instantly hide as if a murderer is on you. The door opened, and a girl walked in. Where’s the guy? Minju said,Umm hi! "Shock.” OMG, why are you there? Ugh, I thought someone was about to kill me. So you won the draw? Yes, I did. I am Y/N, btw, and sorry to startle you. Haha, no worries; it kind of seems like a dark place, right?

Yes, it is.

You two casually just talked to each other for half an hour. You noticed she texted her staff to bring the food. This is fun—she said, Oh, yeah, different from a normal fan meet. Yeah, um, I just noticed my staff for the food; I'm getting hungry. Are you not? Oh, before I got here, I had already eaten. The staff knocked on the door to deliver the food for the two of you. Thank you! Miss Minju, text again if you need something. Both of you munch the food the staff delivered, and deep inside of you is screaming as to how you got to eat with Minju. 

After eating, she asked, Do you have a girlfriend or something? No, not at the moment, but you did have? An ex? Ye That's perfectPerfect? Well, I don't know if you're keeping up all this time. But you haven't just won a date with me; something else is better. Something else? Think Y/N; you're running out of time. Your head is full of confusion; you cannot think straight about what Minju just said. A lot of things are going on in your head. As you think, she stood up and got to the couch. Well, if you can't think of what I am referring to, you won't experience it. This just added to your confusion. Minutes passed, and you still can't think of what she's referring to. But then it hit. Is she giving a massage perk? I think I got it. Finally, you got it! But shouldn’t it be a flat bed rather than a couch? Huh? What? Are you thinking of massaging? Well, I can’t think of any. Ugh, you're too innocent but cute too. I like you, Y/N. But this isn't okay; it’s not massaging. Well,  it involves massaging, but in a special way, and you're the massagist. Huh? Me? Are you saying random things? Did the food make you think less? Shibal, I can’t take you anymore. It’s so simple yet you can’t get to it. Sorry, it’s just my first time, okay? I don't usually go to Fanmeets. It’s my first time too. Ugh, fine, since you only have an hour with me, I’ll do it. What are you going to do? Have fun, fun with you. Ugh, Y/N, I want you to fuck me here. That’s the prize you won; you won me for 2 hours, babe. What are you on? Are you really Minju? She then pinned you down on the couch, like the captured food of a predator.

This is what you won; I am your prize. So get it now before your time runs out. Min... Minju, I don’t see you like that; I like you but not like this. Why are you so cute? You're making me regret this.What? She then slowly removes her clothes—the white dress and her safety shorts—leaving her in her underwear. You're perplexed by the sight you're seeing. She then goes close to you and unbuttons your shirt. Please be gentle, you said to her. She mirks, going for your mouth. Feeling her dessert to you. You just follow what she desires in you. You alright, she asked. Eyep, I am fine. Strip me, touch my body. Y/N, you earned it. Okay, just like that, good boy. You have a silky smooth skin, Minju. I never imagined this. You’re really my fan, right? You mentioned you watched me in RU next Yes, I am Alright, I am gonna suck your dick now Um, okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise She takes off your pants and briefs. Showing your hard cock to your favourite idol She was shocked by the length and girth you have. Wow, you're so big. 

Thank you, I guess.

You gasped from the way she grabbed your rod, spitting on it as a makeshift lube. Slowly jaculating your dick. You are in ecstasy as seconds pass; you feel like you’re going to cum from just a handjob. Ugh, Minju slows down a bit. Am I reaching it already? I guess it's because of me. She slowed down a bit, but this time using her mouth. She kisses your tip, slurping her own spit on it. Tasting your pre-cum is like juice. She then takes it and swallows slowly, inch by inch, in her mouth. How is she good at this? You asked yourself. You thought this was why they'd debuted; they probably got used by the higher-ups. But you cleared that in your mind; you just thought of what is happening at the moment. Slurp.” Hmmm, I love your cock, Y/N. Its so big and juicy. I am glad you like it. I am getting close to it. She swallows all of it while looking at you, having the begging eyes like she's not satisfied. Alright, time to fuck me now, Y/N. You’re special since this is my first time with a fan. Are you not a virgin anymore? She nods, then gets up to align her freshly shaved pussycat with your dick. You feel your body losing strength as it enters the heavens of Minju. Oh my god, you’re so tight. I can’t believe I am inside you, Minju. Just like that, do you like it? Yes, I am getting comfortable now. That's what I want to hear. Now bring me your game. Yeah, fuck me all you want. She's in a cowgirl position on top of you, having the sight of a goddess and her small, cute tits. You moved your hips up, trying out how to fuck a girl. 

I am not good! That's right. You’re hitting my G-spot. The face she’s making fuels you. The cute, innocent-looking Minju is now a cute, hottie, sexy girl, wanting to be fucked. After a minute, she told you to change positions. Ugh, maybe doggystyle? I don’t know my position. Hmm, do you want to see my face? Then I’ll lay here and insert it while looking at me. Alright, you did what she said; you have a full view of her from top to bottom. Now, deep in this state, you just want to taste every part of her. You carry her legs to your shoulder and lick her toes. Wow, getting bold, good boy. Just like that, lick my toes. You get close to her as your body starts to lose some energy; getting this close to her wants you to kiss her. You tried to get it, but she avoided it. Um, sorry, no kissing yet. Oh really, my bad. No, I want to cause you’re cute, but that's one of the rules. Okay, Another change of position led both of you to lay down on the couch. This time you can only see her back, but your cock is still in her. Ugh, like that, Y/N, I am going to stop. You want me to stop? No, she shouts, Okay, okay, continue to fuck me like this. You continue to go inside of her, eventually feeling that her walls are getting tighter. Hinting that she's cumming.

Yes, ughh, ohhhh, yesss, just like that, I am cumming, babe. I am about to cum too, Minju GOOD. Yes, cum inside me. Yes, you can cum in me. YES, just fucking cum in me Okay okay OHHHHHHH, Yes cum in me baby. Ugh, this is so good. After cuddling inside her, both of you were just silent on the couch. She then hugged you and kissed your cheeks.

Don't tell them I kissed you, okay? Okay, I won't. Hmm, how about we do this sometime again, but with no time restriction? You down? For real? Yeah, I like you, Y/N. Maybe we can do more. Oh, alright, give me your number. She then gets dressed, giving you a wink. She looks like nothing happened, but the atmosphere in this small corridor is screaming sex.

I had fun. Did you? Yes. Hopefully next time you win again, haha. Well, I will try. Alright, I’ll call you later. Okay. She then left as the time with her ran out. You stand outside thinking of the things that happened today; not only did you meet Illit and Minju, you have just had the best experience a fanboy has ever had.

Hmm, what happened to the other four guys? Fin. A/N: A late Birthday smut for my girl. Is this the first Illit Smut here? Not proofread cuz I am lazy. Also it got fucked halfway in terms of formatting.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

To the Edge of Chaos

Prologue

Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)

A murder accusation and the death of a beloved father. Those where the events that led you to take refuge in this seedy tavern. Scared and left completely alone for the very first time, you try you're best to evade watchful eyes. Easier said than done with handsome pirates in the vicinity.

Warnings: MDNI, Crude language, talks of beheadimg and murder.

To the Edge of Chaos

Masterlist

Words: 1.1k

“Did you hear!?,” The man next to you whispered. He must be a local if he's comfortable gossiping in a tavern like this. The smell of cheap alcohol was making you nauseous but this was the only safe place you could find for the time being.

“Everyone's heard by this stage,” the bar keep whispered back. “The city guards have been preventing people from talking about it since they announced the passing of the King. I heard they're going to behead her without trial.”

“I don't believe it for a second! Our princess would never do something like that!”

“Keep your voice down! They have ears all over the city,” the bar keep warned. But the bar was rowdy despite the news of the king's passing circulating. It felt like the city was celebrating, apart from a select few that is. You didn't realise how insignificant the royal family was in this part of the city. Though granted, the ports were often run by pirates these days despite the naval guard trying to stake their claim over the area.

You wonder where everything went wrong. It wasn't long ago that you were dressing as a servant boy to explore the city scape. Even though you should have been studying, should have been performing your royal duties. It seems that your selfishness has come to bite you in the ass. Had it not been for your uncle you would be on the road to your demise right about now. You've only narrowly escaped death for the time being. No one knows how you'll fare tomorrow.

That's how you found yourself in one of the few places the city guards couldn't reach you. The loyalty of the people here lay with the outlaws, the reject, the outcasts. An ideal place to find a temporary identity or a completely new one if one wanted. The bar buzzed with joy as the people guzzled their cheap rum and brandy. It tasted nothing like the refined wines you were raised on. Not that you had the luxury of being picky anymore. But at least you could enjoy the sweetness during these trying times. Probably not a good financial decision though. But you desperately needed something to take edge of the grief you were feeling. 

“The king loved his daughter, why would she have any reason to kill him?” The drunk patron drawled on despite the looks he was getting from the other patrons. The royal family really wasn't popular here. You scan your area staying on high alert, you couldn't have anyone mistaking you for someone who was supposed to be locked up and awaiting her death. You suppose sneaking out did pay off in this instance. You were so used to acting like a boy that it wasn't hard mimicking the mannerisms of the people around you. That and the disguise was good enough to fool the drunk for now. You just needed to get your hands on a more convincing ensemble if you wanted to survive.

“Aye nae one cares that wee bastard is dead, Never done nae good for the people like us! And his daughter too! Never even seen 'er face in public! Always hiding away in 'er big castle too full of 'erself tae care about 'er people dying in the slums!” A drunk man with an odd haircut shouts. Pirates. You watch the men around him laugh as they encourage him to keep going. The whole situation made you uneasy. Your reputation was horrible amongst the poor it seems. Or anyone for that matter. You were very much aware of the hate you received because of your mothers heritage. Despite her still being foreign royalty.

“Good thing we'll finally see 'er head come off! Good riddance!” You flinch as the man continues his rant stumbling as he tries to reach the bar for more alcohol. But someone from his group grabs him by the back of the neck before he can reach where you were sitting. Damn you wouldn't want to mess with his friend.

He was built like an oak tree. Not to mention his terrifying mask. You wouldn't be surprised if they called him the grim reaper. You remind yourself to keep away from those two. It's not long before the drunk man is hauled off outside while he airs out his lungs towards the person who was holding him like a pup. You watch as his crew boo and jeer the big man as he drags out the other to sober up.

Your eyes naturally drift back to the rowdy crowd who seemed at home in the tavern. Many women excitedly draped themselves on the arms of the most handsome or the ones that looked like they had money. You couldn't blame them. They were quite handsome you'll admit, and who didn't like money? You could use some right now.

One man in particular caught your eye. His laugh was akin to the warmth of the setting sun. Your hand absently caresses the necklace around your neck. The thought of him caressing skin no man has touched made your head spin with forbidden thoughts. Ones you desperately had to push down. Your necklace hums with magic concealing your feminine features, essentially presenting you as a boy to anyone.

You continue your not so discrete exploration of the handsome man's toned body. He would have make a nice personal gaurd. It stirs something in your heart but you push it down as soon as it surfaces. Now wasn't the time!

His dark sun kissed skin glowed under the light of their lanterns while multiple women tried and failed to monopolize his attention. Though you knew for a fact he enjoyed the commotion they were making for him. You could see it on his smug face and mischievous kohl covered eyes. They looked like pools of honey from where you sat. Stop it idiot! You need to focus!

It seemed the bearded man sitting next to him was also enjoying the attention he was receiving. They exchanged cigars as they continued to enjoy their drinks while the woman fawned for their undivided attention.

You study them for a bit before making up your mind. They'd do nicely. You needed money, and they looked like they had plenty to spare. You're sure they wouldn't mind a few coins missing. Though it was your first time stealing, it couldn't be that hard could it? A little flirting here, a little touching there and you'll have a couple coins in your purse in no time. You glance at your necklace debating if it was a good option to remove the enchantment for a short time. The people were all drunk anyway and it wasn't like anyone would recognise you here. You just needed to get one of them alone somehow. But how?

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hello hello!! You're probably swamped with asks, but if you have the time and energy, you should do a slow burn Alastor x reader set in the 1920s where the reader is a performer at mimzys speakeasy and that's where Alastor goes to chose his victims. He sees the reader for the first time and immediately thinks that they are his next victim but he keeps getting thwarted by small incidents, such as the reader leaving early and him barely missing his chance. After a while he notices small things about them and their personality after sort of observing them, and then they meet and he loses his interest in killing them. Of course the slow burn happens, the drama ensues, he's still a killer but keeps it a secret and then after a while the reader finds out. You can choose if you want a happy ending or not, but I had that idea in my mind and your one of the only writers I see that could do it justice. Thanks for sharing your talents!!! Your amazing and gifted in ways that inspire everyone who interacts with your blog🫶🫶🫶

A/N You’re literally so sweet?? Wtf?? I love you?? Thank you??? I hope you like what I did with this fun and fluffy idea!!! ahhhhhh!!!! also, I am running with the ambiguity of the ending. I am such a little slut for ambiguity.

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN. SLOW. BURNING IMAGERY. A LITTLE OVER THE TOP ON THE BURNING IMAGERY THING. Dead bodies, blood, murder, killing, mentions of stalking. This one got away from me a bit.

Word Count: 4,197

Master Lists:

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Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

The box of matches pulled from the pocket had been Alastor going to the bar, all those months before. Nearly a year now, once he sat and really thought about it. He had been going to Mimzy's little speakeasy on the outskirts of town since it had been just that, a little speakeasy on the outskirts of town rather than the full fledged, illegal club she ran today.

Back when it was a speak easy, there had never been a problem. On that fateful day, though he hadn't known it then, the club had changed its form. It had become the kindling. Sitting down at the table had been pulling a match from the box and Y/n.... Y/n had been the rough hewn striker paper he lit it on. It was all so obvious now, looking back. The expression 'hindsight is 20/20' existed for a reason.

So, Alastor had entered the club (matchbox out of pocket). As soon as Mimzy had spotted him, she had run over with a bright smile and a glass of whiskey on the house as always. Alastor had always liked Mimzy. She was wild and positively hilarious when she wanted to be but, at the same time, she had a good head for business. Her morals were just wobbly enough that Alastor felt comfortable with her, a camaraderie he felt with no other.

The lights had gone down suddenly and Mimzy, cutting herself off mid sentence, had turned to the stage in excitement.

"Good show tonight?" Alastor had asked.

Alastor never came to Mimzy's club for the music. She knew he didn't care, not really. Still, he had the curtesy to ask and so, she whipped back towards him.

"You betcha." she grinned up at him, "I just got this new kid? Came from all the way up north, can you believe that? Anyway, they have a set of pipes like you wouldn't believe! Just the bees knees, I tell you."

Grabbing Alastor's arm, Mimzy dragged him to a table by the stage. Alastor sat down across from her (match from the box) with an air of mild reluctance. Mimzy tapped her hands on the table impatiently.

A spot light flickered on and a scrawny young kid stepped onto the stage. He couldn't be much younger than Alastor or Mimzy themselves but he was one of those people that always look younger than they are. He had been working for Mimzy for a while now but, Alastor had never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'Mimz's Manager' in his view of the world. The kid cleared his throat, leaning in towards the microphone which had been placed at center stage.

"How are we feeling out there tonight?" he asked the room at large and there had been a miscellaneous cheer from the room at large, "Well that's good to hear! We've got a real treat for you tonight folks. All the way from the Big Apple, we bring you, Y/n!"

The kid left the stage and a new figure stepped out from the shadows (revelation of match striker paper). The minute Alastor saw them, in the well cut suit that shone dark in the light, he knew. They were perfect. Slim, but not too fit and shorter than he was. Morally ambiguous enough in their aims that they had come running from New York to work at a speakeasy. This 'Y/n,' if that was even their real name, was his ideal next victim. Alastor smiled in the dim light as somewhere off stage, a piano began to play.

"I'll be loving you, always" the person sang and Alastor was taken aback.

Mimzy had been right. He had never heard a voice like it before. They sang with an emotional depth that could be heard from few. Somehow, they still managed to keep it sounding like music.

"When the things you plan Need a helping hand I will understand, always, always"

Mimzy leaned across the table to Alastor, her eyes alight.

"What did I tell you?" she whispered.

Alastor nodded his head to the side in vague agreement.

"Not for just an hour Not for just a day"

When they finished their set a half hour later, it was to raucous applause. The house lights raised and with them, Mimzy stood from her chair.

"I'll be back in two shakes." she promised before disappearing off into the crowd.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. Contemplatively, he took a sip from his drink. The time before a kill was nearly as an enjoyable as the act itself. It was ritualistic, it brought him closer to god.

Before he knew it, Mimzy was back, dragging the singer behind her. They looked slightly frazzled, their hair a bit messy and their brow furrowed.

"Mimzy!" they exclaimed as they struggled to keep up with the woman holding their wrist in her vice-like grip.

Their speaking voice was... different than Alastor had expected. From the way they had sung on stage, he had thought it would be sharp, loud, ebullient. Instead, it was rather soft. Alastor couldn't help but think of the creek out back of the house he had grown up in.

"Al, meet my new favorite!" Mimzy announced, coming to a stop beside Alastor.

"I..."

The situation had been unexpected to say the least. Alastor had had a long day. He hadn't come here to socialize, he came here to drink. Now, he was at a loss for words, the haze of sleep and irritation clouding his mind.

Y/n looked at Mimzy before fixing their gaze back on him. The took a step forward, fixing a smile on their face, and held out their hand.

"Y/n."

So it was their real name. The one they presented to the world, at least.

Alastor smiled, standing from his seat and taking their hand in his.

"Alastor."

They had a firm handshake. There was something authoritative about it, something just a bit too confident.

"Pleasure to be meeting you." they said.

"Quite the pleasure." Alastor nodded.

They broke contact and Y/n turned to Mimzy, suddenly seeming very tired.

"I'm gonna head, Mimzy." they hummed, their voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them.

Before Mimzy could say a word against their statement, they were gone. The crowd sheltered them from sight almost immediately. After that night, Alastor started coming to the club a lot more often.

He always sat in the same seat, the table near stage left. It was right next to the exit. Anyone getting off the stage had to go right past him. It was a calculated choice. Step one of his little projects, so to speak, had always been learning more about his victims, finding out their patterns.

The problem was, Y/n never seemed to do the same thing twice. Every time Alastor would think himself ready, would ready everything for the action, something different happen. The first time, it had been that Y/n had simply managed to slip out earlier than normal. Mimzy was always introducing them to someone or another after their shows, delaying their departure. That night, it seemed, they had somehow been able to avoid the mayhem.

Another time, the problem had been that Y/n had stayed at the club too long. Alastor was a working man and once the clock hit midnight, it was time to cut his losses and go home. A third time, Y/n had just happened to call out sick the very night he had gotten everything back in order.

A month in, and Alastor was ready for his fourth attempt. He sat at his usual table, drinking his usual drink. When Y/n left the stage, he kept his eyes trained on them as always. It went like clockwork - Mimzy pulled them away, they tried desperately to escape and eventually, they succeeded. That was when everything went south again.

One second, Y/n was by the bar and the next? Gone. Alastor got to his feet, tossing a bill or two to the bar tender and disappearing out through the door. He was determined. Tonight had to be the night. If tonight wasn't the night? He was done. Alastor was not a foolish man, he knew when he was beat.

Quietly, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the occasional echo of a car from elsewhere in the city accompanying him, Alastor slipped down the ally he knew the club's back door let out into.

"There you are."

Alastor spun around.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Y/n leaned casually against the wall, the dark fabric of their dress blending softly with the night. When Alastor didn't reply, standing in their gaze like a deer in headlights, they stood themselves up and walked the step and a half it took for them to be face to face with him.

"I'd like it if you stopped following me. Or, trying to follow me. It's getting kind of old.'' (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Alastor resumed his composure. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he leaned forward, fixing a teasing grin onto his face.

"Oh, would you now?"

Y/n, much to his surprise, held their ground.

"Yeah, I would. Whats your interest in me anyways?"

Thinking on his feet had never been an issue for Alastor. Besides, he really did have some questions for the illusive singer. Or, he had one question for them. One that might lead to others.

"Oh, you know." he hummed, straightening back up, "All the way from the 'Big Apple.'"

Y/n scoffed at his parody of their nightly introduction to the stage. They crossed their arms, glancing off to the ally's entrance as a drunk couple stumbled by.

"Yep."

"Why?"

Turning to face him again, Y/n narrowed their eyes.

"Why do you wanna know?"

The hint of an accent. At least he knew they weren't lying about where they came from.

"I suppose you can call me a curious fan."

"I think being a bit less of both those things would suit you."

They fell into a brief, nearly uncomfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, Y/n was the one to break it.

"Look," they began, "I know you're friends with my boss and all but... I am going to go back into that dive and I am going to stay there until you are long gone. I'll stay the night if I have to, d'ya get it?"

Alastor's smile tightened.

"Loud and clear."

"Good."

Y/n didn't see Alastor for another week. Slowly, the tension that had permeated their every waking moment since meeting Alastor that first night, the constant ache of his eyes on their back, began to fade. Just a little, but it was enough. When they saw him sitting at the bar almost two weeks after their little altercation, the amount it had faded was just enough to make them angry at his return.

Alastor hadn't really meant to come back. His plan was to give it a month, maybe even two. His plan was to come back and resume life like it had been before he had ever even known Y/n existed. His mind had other plans.

He had tried to find another target, occupy himself with a new victim. There was something unsatisfying about it, he couldn't quite get his head in the game. Every time he went to trail a potential victim, he heard their voice ringing out in the silence of his mind.

There you are.

Alastor had been killing for about three years now. He had a good number of victims under his belt and was in no ways a newbie. Even back when he had been one, no one had ever caught him out like that before. There had been a couple close calls, sure. There always were but waiting for him? Thwarting his plans repeatedly? Beating him at his own game?

"I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Alastor looked up from his glass of whiskey, smiling politely up at Y/n. He could feel the anger radiating off them in waves.

"Mimzy would be rather sad if I just up and disappeared like that, no explanation."

He caught sight of her across the open space and waved. With a bright smile, Mimzy waved back before returning to the conversation she had been embroiled in. Alastor turned back to Y/n.

"Oh, wouldn't you hear that? You're getting sober. Congratulations."

"Ah, but there is still the music and that wonderful new singer who came down from up north not too long ago."

Y/n took a deep breath, calming themselves.

"It's not that hard of a question to answer. Or at least, it shouldn't be for most people. What, are you on the run from the cops? I heard life is oh so dangerous in those big cities up there, after all. Maybe part of the reason was you."

"If I answer your question, will you leave me alone?"

Alastor was silent for a short moment before he replied.

"If I like the answer? Sure. I'll leave you alone."

In a single, sharp movement, Y/n dragged the stool beside him out and sat down. Tapping their fingers on the table, they got the bartender's attention and ordered themselves a drink.

"You want to know why I left New York?" they hummed thoughtfully, "It's because of guys like you."

A shock of sudden nerves fought through Alastor's system. Did they somehow know? After all this time, had someone figured it out? After just under two months?

"Guys like me? What ever on earth do you mean?"

"You know, pretty boys. Pretty boys who turn out to be creepy boys that don't know the meaning of the word 'no.'" (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

It wasn't the first time Alastor had been called pretty or handsome or something of the like. In fact, he knew he was pretty. It was part of why the whole ruse worked. Normally, however, when people told him he was, it was accompanied by far too much blushing and looks to the side. Y/n held his gaze firmly the whole time.

"So, you're escaping an ex? A jaded lover?"

"A jaded 'someone-who-watched-me-perform-once-and-decided-it-meant-we-were-married'? Yeah."

The bartender placed the drink in front of Y/n. They picked up the glass, downing it in one go. They grimaced.

"You like my answer?"

"Hmmm... no." Alastor grinned, ear to ear, "I don't think I do."

Y/n sighed.

"What is it you want from me?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He was very good at keeping the inside from showing on the outside. The question had just caught him so off guard, or maybe it was something about Y/n that had him on his toes, he couldn't help it. They kept seeming to make his head spin.

"Want from you?"

"Money? Sex? Fame? A fall guy? What."

"I don't want anything from you." (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. The answer had been automatic. Alastor himself was struggling to comprehend the words that had left his mouth. He wanted to kill them, right? What he wanted from them was their life, right? That was what he had been working for over all these days, fighting for. He knew it was true so why did the statement not feel like a lie as it had traveled from his tongue?

"Yeah right." Y/n placed their hands on the bar, pulling themselves to stand, "I totally believe that."

"Just your time, Songbird. Just your time."

They turned to him.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. I don't understand you either."

They paused.

"It frustrates me." Y/n admitted, "Who even are you? I don't know anything except your name."

Alastor gave their now empty chair a pointed look. Y/n stood in contemplation for a few seconds before they nodded their head once, seemingly to themselves, and took their seat once again. Confidently, they tapped two fingers on the lip of their empty glass.

"Another."

(match strikes paper, match lights.)

Alastor was the match, Y/n was the paper. The club stopped being kindling the moment the pair took their conversation outside its boundaries for the first time, about a month or so later. For a while, there was no kindling, there was just match and paper. Alastor liked it that way.

It had been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he really did have no interest in killing them anymore. That the moment such an idea occurred, he could see them in his minds eye, smiling or picking at the hem of their shirt the way they did when they were nervous.

The kindling reappeared when Alastor realized the match had been struck in the first place. That was a whole other thing. The friendship suddenly seemed easy, the loss of bloodlust directed toward them was like nothing in the face of a realization like that. Once he recognized the flame, Alastor stopped being a match and Y/n stopped being paper. The match became the little flutter of their stomachs when they caught sight of one another, the tension of the moments where they could make contact. Y/n and Alastor were kindling now and they were standing oh so very close to that dangerous flame.

It was Alastor's sleeve that caught fire first. It happened when they had gotten caught in the rain. Y/n had opened their umbrella and, seeing Alastor had none, insisted he join them in its cover. Alastor had, of course, refused. With a roll of their eyes, they had grabbed his hand and yanked him forcefully into place beside them. Alastor hadn't realized they had only touched once, when they first shook hands, until Y/n's skin made contact with his once again.

The worst part about it all, was that it made sense. It made so much sense. They were quiet, contemplative, and calculative. Before long, being with them felt like being with an extension of himself in an odd way. Alastor couldn't quite describe it, he didn't have the words.

Y/n always seemed to notice things no one else did. When Alastor had forgotten his umbrella the next three or four times it had rained, they had confronted him.

"Almost like you're doing this on purpose." they had hummed softly.

Though they didn't look at him, Y/n knew Alastor was blushing.

"Shut up."

The next thing to catch had been Y/n's collar. Y/n had been chatting with him, sharing a drink before their set and they had lost track of time. At the sound of the stage manager, Alastor still did not know his name, beginning their introduction to the stage, they had jumped up in fright, hurriedly tightening their tie which they had loosened in the casual atmosphere. Noticing that the action had caused part of their collar to fold awkwardly, Alastor had gotten to his feet as well. With a gentleness he had not made use of since his mother died, he had fixed Y/n's collar.

"Wh-" they had stopped mid question, having realized what he was doing.

His hand lingered on their collar. Y/n's eyes traveled up his arm, at last meeting his own.

"Thank you."

Those big wide eyes, full of curiosity and comfort. Alastor could get lost in those.

"Y/n!" the stage manager announced.

"Shit!" they exclaimed and the magic of the moment was broken as they pulled themselves away.

All it took was that. It wasn't much but, fire has a way of working with what it has. When a few days later Y/n had stepped out into the street without looking, being too caught up in the story they were telling Alastor, and he had pulled them back just as a car passed, it was too late. The house couldn't be saved, the flames had gone too far. A few blocks later, after thanking him, Y/n had realized they were still holding hands. They stopped, pulling Alastor to a halt beside them.

"What are we doing?"

"We're going for lunch. Are you quite alright? You were the one who sugge-"

"No, Alastor. I mean: what are we doing?"

Alastor followed the path of their eyes to their interlaced fingers.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. The world turned around them.

"I don't... I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Alastor took a deep breath before braving the sight of their bewildered and slightly saddened face once again.

"I said all I wanted was your time."

"That's the problem."

Y/n let go of his hand, running their own through their loose hair.

"That's the problem, Alastor." they said again.

"What is?"

Y/n had a habit of telling him the most serious things eye to eye with a stoney demeanor. He was surprised to see them break from this confident custom of theirs as they looked away, their arms wrapping protectively around themself.

"I want more. I want you to want more."

Alastor was stunned, he was speechless.

"I... I'll see you tomorrow, Al."

Before they could make it more than a step away, Alastor grabbed their shoulder, spinning them to him. Y/n looked up at him, confusion painting their features with the most delicate brush.

Alastor struggled, he fought. Still, there were no words.

"Don't you get it?" he asked, "I want your time. Y/n, I want you."

Alastor kept finding himself in trickier and trickier situations. First there had been trying to kill them, then the hurdle of not wanting to kill them. Friendship had given way to its own bag of worms and now that they were more than friends?

He had thought that it all would stop. He had thought that if things ever worked out the way they had, everything would be okay. He had forgotten his nature.

At first, hiding the killings was just as easy as it had been before. It did not stay that way. Alastor was good at hiding things, always had been. That wasn't the issue. What was the issue was that he cared about Y/n, he didn't want to hurt them. Keeping secrets... well, his mother had always told him that no one ever fools anybody. His mother was a wise woman. His mother had been right.

Y/n had stopped by as a surprise. They had a home cooked meal in a basket and a bag over their shoulder full of records they thought he would like. When they stepped into the foyer of Alastor's large, garden district home, they had called their usual greeting.

Alastor's heart had stopped at the sound of their voice. He froze, his cleaver still firmly wedged between the shoulder and chest of the man he was chopping into pieces for easier disposal. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him, he waited. They called again.

"Al! I have a surprise for you! The surprise is me! And also? I made you dinner. Come out! I know you're home!"

Under any other circumstances, them showing up like this would have filled him with unbridled joy. However, it wasn't any other circumstances. It was these circumstances. Alastor was covered in another man's blood. There was a body just a few rooms from his beloved. Either way, they would find out the truth. They were a nosey thing, always so inquisitive.

"Alastor!" he heard them call again.

They were closer now, much closer. He watched in a mixture of horror, despair, and a twinge of excitement as the doorknob jiiggled.

"Alastor?"

How would Y/n react to such a sight? Would they cower in fear? Was their love alone enough to hold them here, to tie them to him in loyalty? Would they run to the cops? Would they cry? Would they ask to help? Would he have to kill them too?

It was sickeningly delightful, all the unknowns. His heart pounded violently in his ears. The door swung open.

"There you are!"

Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

"My dear! How wonderful to see you."

----

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

Sorry if the end made you angry,,, I just think the not knowing is so much more fun!

Also the song is "Always" by Irving Berlin.

[finisnihil]

Some people need to learn the difference between like/disliking a character on a personal level v. a writing level. I dislike some characters on a personal level but I do love their writing and characterization on a meta level and any of my bullying of them is mostly for jokes. Meanwhile there's also characters who I adore on a personal level but abhor the writing of because it feels like their concepts or potential as a character were squandered.

I've said it before i'll say it again when you let your personal bias on a character infect your analysis of them you get mischaracterization. Part of media literacy is seperating authoral intention from reader response and thinking about if anything about the character or their interactions can cloud your judgement of them on a surface level.

For example, in the 2.1 quest of HSR I saw some Aventurine lovers absolutely jump on a hate train for Sunday because in their eyes, Sunday was villainous for his actions against Aventurine and deserved to be put down for it. But, when you stop bastardizing Sunday in an effort to validate and sanitize Aventurine's motives you see the two are actually equally complicit in hurting the other. Sunday did try to turn Ratio against Aventurine and he did cast the whole Truth or Die spell but when you actually critically analyze Sunday and his role in the interaction he is more sympathetic and he makes more sense.

Aventurine was going into the interaction, an interaction regarding the IPC's increasingly aggressive attempts to recolonize Penacony after losing it as a prison planet, bragging about using the horrific murder of Sunday's sister to exploit him. Aventurine has never once hid his intentions, he's sympathetic but that doesn't change the fact he's trying to rip Penacony's freedom away for the IPC. We've seen what the IPC does to planets, no matter how corrupt the Family is, the IPC will be worse without a doubt. Aventurine is a morally grey character, he took the gamble of lying under the spell and he understood the stakes when he did it. Trying to bastardize Sunday in order to try and act like Aventurine didn’t have the autonomy to fuck around and find out is really disingenuous to both characters.

As for Sunday, Sunday is incredibly sympathetic too. We know he’s under crushing pressure by everyone around him to hide things for the sake of public image and we know he’s sacrificed a ton for his sister. Sunday is reverential of Xipe but we see him being actively wary of the Family. He knows there’s a traitor, he knows the Family is rotting with ill intent, he knows Death is on the loose. Robin and him are doing their damndest to handle these problems within their circumstances and we’ve seen their notes! They aren’t ignoring the problem, they’re even trying to get outside help from both the Astral Express and Aventurine. We see the Lightcone of their childhood in an otherwise clinical and impersonal office, one where he built her a toy stage and became her first audience. He cares about Robin more than anything and you see his rage and grief being suppressed yet slipping here and there and causing him to make sloppy mistakes, such as using the Truth or Die spell to lash out at Aventurine when he feels cornered with no control over the situation. When he confronts Gallagher he finally cracks and just… breaks. You see him lose it to the point he doesn’t even notice Death behind him until it’s too late. Despite being likened to songbirds, Robin and Sunday both died quietly in their gilded cages. They are the canaries in the coal mine.

Sunday and Aventurine are meant to parallel each other, they both lost their sister in a gruesome event outside of their control because they couldn’t protect her. Sunday couldn’t protect her from the cage he let himself be trapped in so she could fly free and Aventurine couldn’t protect her because he was too small and too young and too lucky. One is a younger brother and one is an elder brother.

The only major difference between them is who we experience the story through. Aventurine is our eyes for most of 2.1 so therefore Sunday is the one put in the antagonistic role. Antagonists are characters who’s motives and goals oppose the protagonists. Because of this, we have to flesh out Sunday’s character via subtext because we don’t have the luxury of his POV to be blatant like with Aventurine. If the roles reversed, if Sunday was our eyes, I bet Aventurine would be the one getting the flack instead.

[multifandomfanatic02]

"You didn't know, pt.1"

Pairing: Alastor x fem!OC?? (pulled the name out of a hat honestly)

Warning: mentions of r*pe, detailed murder,

Summary: it was never mentioned as to why Alastor turned to murder. Maybe it could have been because he lost someone important to him? Who knows really?

a/n: I tried my best to stick to Alastor's character and respect his sexuality. If you think this needs any improvement or if you have some kind criticism, please let know! And if this liked enough I'll make a part two! (itsbeentwelveyearssinceihavewrittenanythingpleasebenice)

Spring of 1915

Alastor had been a victim of his mother's matchmaking since he was seventeen. Seven dates have been attempted in 5 years total.

No, he was more focused on his occupation as a writer. What Alastor was truly in love with, the smooth jazz that blessed his ears, to the dancing, the books. He was clearly an art enthusiast. And there was one artist's work he admired more than anything. Lillian Fletcher. She was a high position in a very popular magazine and newspaper. Decided what was trendy and what wasn't. While her job is more in the line of sales, Lillian's colleagues agree to let her put her own articles in them. They get hella cash flow.

Crazy as it is, no one has seen what she looked like. When conferences with celebrities happen, it's like she's there in spirit and the articles just show up in the papers one day. I guess you could say it's what Alastor admired about Lillian, she was obviously a humble woman. Someone who cared about her work as much as he did his. Even more so loved the same things he did.

A special night was approaching, Alastor was going to join the press as a journalist for a conference. Even get to do an interview with the famous guest. It was such a grand occasion, he wore his best suit. A black suit rimmed with red buttons and red seams around the collar and of course a red dress shirt underneath. Took the breath away from most of the women that glanced at him during the little shindig.

"Look at my handsome little man, I'm so proud of you, mon cœur." Alastor's mother beams at him with pride, rubbing her fingers against his cheek. He grabs her hand and guides her to the bar.

"Thanks mama, I'm really glad you get to be here with me tonight. Can't imagine anyone else to spend this night with, I mean that." Her eyes start to swell as tears spill out of them. He chuckles wiping them away with the back of his hand. The lights finally begin to dim and the guest comes out on stage. "It's time mama, I need to join the crowd." Alastor unpockets his pen and pad and walks to the chaos of the press unfolding before him.

2 hours gone by and he gets maybe 3 questions out of him. This guest isn't particularly nice. He's obviously rushing the journalist and being very um.. kind of an asshole with his replies. Then again it was to be expected from this one. It's why he's Alastor first real job after all.

"Can you please answer respectfully for once? Stop being an ass to the people who will write your story one day." Everything goes quiet and all heads turn to the back of the crowd. A woman.

"Who are you to speak to me that way, slut." He says giving her a disdainful expression.

"I apologize sir, I just want to know as to why you treat everyone like garbage."

"Miss.. does your husband know you are here." He scoffs, taken aback by the woman's comment.

"I am not married, sir." Her eyes are stoic, there's no signs of kidding on her face.

"That explains a lot. No one wants a woman with a mouth like that.. anyhow, ma'am I think you are done here. Guards! See to it that this.. woman.. leaves the building." He snaps his fingers calling the guards over.

Everyone in the crowd obviously disgusted by attitude. Who gave her the right to talk to HIM that way. Only one pair of eyes saw her differently than anyone else. Alastor. She was glorious. He has never seen someone so beautiful in AND out like this before. The woman wore a royal blue drop-waist dress made of silk and velvet with beads and tiers. Thick mid length hair pinned up in a bob, in attempt to keep it all in place. Pearls adorned her neck beautifully.

He walked out the building following loosely behind, his hand rubbing the back of his neck briefly.

"Are you alright, miss?" He speaks softly to her, trying to not speak the woman.

"Ah yes, thank you, I apologize for my behavior back there. You didn't have to come after me." She hugs her arms and paces back and forth, irritation clearly visible on her face.

"I believe it was very much needed. He certainly needed to be put in his place. Who better than you." Alastor's lips grew into a soft grin. She stopped pacing finally taking a really good look at him. Handsome, is all she thought. "May I ask for your name?" He bent down grabbing her hand kissing the back of it.

A blush flooded her face from her cheeks to the tips of the ears. "L-Lillian Fletcher... and you are?" He looked up in shock to her response, clearing his throat.

"My name is Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure indeed!" His smile turned into a starstruck expression. "So you are the Lillian Fletcher that works for the magazine?!" She nodded nervously as Alastor struggled to keep his cool. "I love your articles and sales pitches! It's what inspired me to shoot my shot with an actual job in journalism. I've been writing for as long as I can remember."

"I'm so glad to hear that, my job is my everything. I'm very passionate about it." Her hand hovers over her mouth to hide her giggle.

"Say, Ms. Fletcher, would you like to have dinner with me?" He holds out his arm for her to take as she gladly accepts, wrapping her hand around it with a smile.

"Call me Lili."

Summer of 1917

"How do I look, mama?" Lillian looked at her future mother in law, holding back her tears. Her knuckle grazed under her eyes to keep from ruining the makeup. The dress she wore was an ivory colored low v-neck dress full of lace and the sleeves were nothing but loose tassels. The most gorgeous wedding dress you'd have ever seen. Her hair was neatly curled and pinned up, feathered boa wrapped around her back and arms, elbow length silk gloves, a string of pearls around the neck, and finally a flower crown. Never has someone looked so elegant.

Alastors hands ran through his hair pacing around in the dressing room. No way was this perfect day about to happen for him. He never thought that one day he'd be married. Alastor has always kept to himself, never found anyone attractive enough. He believed the romance life wasn't for him. While it's partly true, he surely was in love deeply. However both agreed that they never wanted children. Never thought they needed to have intimacy to have love. It would be the perfect life with their work, passions and each other of course.

"Ooo honey, you are looking handsome. Can't wait for you to see Lillian. She's glowing." She says letting herself into his room. She walks towards and pulls him down by the collar to fix his bow tie. "My baby boy, finally getting married."

"Thank you mama, for everything. I'll be sure to pass on your jambalaya recipe to her." He snickers, getting a whack in the arm from her.

"Don't start with me now, boy, you're never to old for a whoopin. You hear me?"

-----

The wedding has started in the chapel and everyone takes their seats. Alastor already tearing up from the band playing music. His fingers fidgeting with eachother in front of him. His bride in all her glory walking down the aisle as if she was a star in the sky.

They took each other's hands holding their breaths as the priest gets through his speech. The wedding was very simple and short event. Due to both groom and bride's status, it was best to keep it a secret and only allow close family. Meaning Alastor's mom and their pet black cat.. Lucifer.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride." That moment lasted for what felt like forever.

Winter of 1928.

Eleven years have passed, both are 34 years of age and their relationship has nothing but flourished since they were married.

Lillian has retired from her life of writing for the public to devote herself to her husband. It's been peaceful and life has never felt better. Alastor on the other hand was promoted to radio host as soon as they were being sold to consumers. It's one thing to write it all out on paper but another to broadcast his interviews and music live to listeners with similar interests. It was... a thrill to him. He and his wife have became quite the team on radio. She often helps him figure out pitches to his audience to boost it.

"Al dear, don't you think it's time for bed?" Lillian's hands wrapped around his neck and ran down his chest, leaning down enough to place a kiss on his head. "You've been working on next week's interview all day. Time to rest, darling."

He sighs and squeezes her hand before nodding. "Alright mon amour." He stands up dragging his feet to their shared bed, tucking each other in. Lillian stroked his hair in hopes to bring him some comfort. He pulls her into his chest. "I will never love anyone other than you. You are mine for eternity."

-------

"Why haven't you told me about this before?!"

"I just didn't want you to worry about it.. you've got a big show coming up soon."

"Hate to break it to you, darling, but someone stalking you is a lot more important to me than a damn show!" Lillian silenced herself, looking away from Alastor's gaze. "I'm staying home."

"No! You can't! That show is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"YOU are my one opportunity! If something happened to you.. I would go Insane." He gripped her shoulders tightly.

"Fine.. Let's make a deal, Al dear. You stay at home all week, but on the day of your show, we take extra precautions to the house and you go. After that you can stay home as much as you want." Lillian says in a serious tone and holds out her hand.

"Deal."

⛧ ⛧ ⛧

The day had finally come and both were feeling nervous. In truth, neither of them wanted Alastor to leave. But with the extra precautions in the house, there was no point in staying home. She was right, this chance will never come again.

The stalker in question had done this sort of thing to several women in the past, many of which had simply gone missing. The ones that were found had been abused and stabbed in the spine causing paralysis, and yes, dead. What a horrific way to die, they both thought. So far there have been 6 victims.

"Are you ready, dear?" Lillian asks helping his coat on. Alastor's expression looking out of place. He was scared and couldn't look her in the eyes, fearing it could be the last time he sees them.

"Are you sure you can't come with me?" He grabs her hand and holds it to his chest. His heart beat a mile a minute.

"You know I'm not allowed there anymore. Or have you forgotten?" She chuckles in attempt to comfort her husband. Obviously not working. Alastor was heartbroken, the only thing he could think of now was to hurry up and get his show done and over with so he can come home. Almost like it wasn't important anymore.

"I've got you a gift." He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket. Lillian took the box and opened it, revealing a locket. 'Mon amour'. She opened it up to see a picture of them on their wedding day. Happy as can be. "No matter what happens know that you are the most important thing in my life." She smiled up at him and gave him a big hug before thanking him. It's beautiful.

"Time to go, my darling." She gives him one last passionate kiss before pushing his butt out the door and locking it. It was cruel to do that however, if it dwelled on it any longer he'd surely break his promise. In reality, she was panicking about being left alone. For good reason...

.

.

.

Alastor's body finally relaxed after 4 hours of his show, it was the most enjoyable one so far. Interviewing the mayor, he was a lot nicer than expected and obviously cared for his people. It wasn't until one of the new journalists came barging in that everything changed.

"Uh oh we've got some breaking news! A new victim of the killer. Our seventh victim is the magazine writer and trend-setter, Lillian Lili?!..." He held his breath as a lump formed in his throat. Immediately getting up, turning on his heels, and hurrying out of the building. His hands were shaking in hopes that she was at the very least still alive. Maybe this was a different situation.

Police and the press had already arrived hours before. Pushing through the crowd, a policeman placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay.

"Are you Mrs. Lillian's husband?" The policeman asked. Alastor's glared down at the man keeping him away from his wife. "I'm afraid I have to tell you that she was killed. I cannot let you go on further for your own good."

"H-How did this happen.. the house was covered in as many locks as we could find! Wood bolted to the windows and-"

"It was not a break in, sir. He had been living in your cellar for what may have been... a week?." Alastor's color drained from his face. In the cellar? He had locked his wife in there with that criminal?

He pushed past the policeman and ducked under the police tape. No one stopped him in time before he saw the scene unfold in front of him. Just like the other women. She had been assaulted and puddles of blood ran from her back. Alastor drops to his knees and grips his hair, crying hysterically. Something snapped within him. His cries suddenly turned into insane laughter. It appalled everyone. He goes over and picks her up and cradles her lifeless body in his own. The blood staining his clothes.

"You can't do that! This is a crime scene! You can't mess with evidence. It belongs to the police department!" The police officer yelled at him. Alastor said nothing continuing to hold her. He knew what to do..

Winter of 1933

̷̍̇̄̐̂̏͊̒̈́ "Breaking News! We have an update on Paul Benjamin. You know the one serial killer who has had an open case for 20 years. Well.. HE'S DEAD HAHAHAHA!" Alastor beat on his desk laughing before clearing his throat. "I apologize for my outburst, it just about time it happened don't y'all agree?" He said calming down and wiping the tears from his eyes. "I wonder who's next on this antihero's list."

It had been 5 years since Lillian's death. While he is working through the pain, his methods to cope is questionable. Four years ago Alastor had decided he wanted to deal with his wife's murderer himself. A year of following his movements and actions eventually paid off. A new addiction emerged to the surface. How easy it was to pierce human skin, to the screams of misery and pain. It was such an amazing feeling. Why stop there? There are people who deserve the same. Nine monsters.. nine people killed by Alastor's hand. Each deeply researched and carefully chosen.

The walk back home from the studio was peaceful. Nothing could make this night better. Many horrors have been removed from the streets of New Orleans thanks to him. Thankfully he was never suspected in any of them. Alastor was very particularly careful how he handled them. Every single seeming to be an accident or su**ide. To the public, it was almost like a miracle. But to the criminals themselves, they knew. Who was next on this mastermind's list? Paranoia set in to them all.

"Ahh what a day my dear, wish you could be here to see what I've accomplished." His laugh was maniacal. He removed his jacket and put it on the hanger on the door. "You are safe now, my darling. We're getting closer to having a free city of monsters."

"I knew it was you.." a voice whispered to Alastor from behind him, holding a knife to his neck. "The only monster left in this town is you, Al." Alastor stayed quiet and slowly reached for the knife in his vest pocket. "I d-don't want to kill you. I understand why you did it but your wife would not like this. Just submit yourself to the police and I will let you go."

He belted the insane laughter, making the man steadily walk backwards in fear. "Understand? You could never understand." Alastor swiped his finger across the cut on his neck left by the knife, and licking it. "I just enjoy doing it." He swiftly shoved the knife into the man's chest.

"Hmmm.. where to put this one. Ah I got it." Unlike all the others, this one was a surprise bonus to the collection. The only possible place to deal with this one was the forest a few acres behind his home. No one went in due to the stories of crytids and it being haunted. It was perfect.

He grabs the shovel sitting against the treeafter placing the corpse in the hole, filling it up with dirt. Upon hearing voices creeping upon him, he looked over his shoulder briefly just for everything to go dark.

"Uh.. I don't think that was a deer, Bill."

"What?"

Present day in Hell

"Congratulations, your highness. Never doubted you for a second. The hotel is starting to gain attraction. " Alastor bowed to Charlie with his hand on his chest.

"You know damn well you're only here for the entertainment. You even said it was a ridiculous idea." Vaggie tapped her feet and crossing her arms.

"Ah yes well... I apologize. Regardless I'm glad everything worked out this way." He gripped his cane, his static-y voice glitching out a bit.

"Speaking of attraction, don't you think it'd be a good idea to put out more commercials and articles about the hotel. Maybe the sinners will take it seriously this time." Charlie paced back and forth before looking to Alastor.

"Good idea! And I know just the person." The one he referred was a commonly feared overlord. One that could potentially out matched Alastor himself. Maere. The dream demon. His shtick was that he can sneak into nightmares and manipulate humans and sinners to sign away their souls for something as simple as a piece of clothing. A soul for an easily attainable item. Despicable.

All the souls he owns have been known to be abused within his possession. On top of it, he rents them out to customers for whatever they need. Because of his collection of talented souls, he has earned his spot in several companies from technology and fashion to restaurants and sinful services.

Now Alastor does not like dealing with demons like him. He was a murderer but only to those who deserve it or push his buttons. Being acquaintances with Maere was useful at times. In the past he has secretly helped free some of them from the contracts with him. This was not one of those times.

The square of pentagram city, where you will find all the fashion stores and new technology. Anything you may need really, including Maere's headquarters.

"Alastor! Our beloved radio demon. I figured your ass would show up around here at what point, old friend." He rubbed his cigarette between his fingers putting it in the ash tray before standing up to greet him.

"Ah ha ha.. don't call me that. I'm just here to do business." He swiped his dhoulder pad before putting both hands atop his cane. "I'm sure you've heard about princess Charlotte's hotel kicking up attention. I'm here to see if you have any souls that would be perfect in advertising the hotel. Someone who is persuasive and talented with writing."

"Hmmm I may have someone like that. Only if you promise to STOP RELEASING THEM FROM MY CONTRACTS!" He held out his hand in hopes of agreeing on a deal.

"I guess I could.. fine, you've got a deal." He grapped Maere's hand, shaking it. Maere grips his hand and leans closer to Alastor.

"I mean it. You're dead if you do." Alastor's expression stayed composed.

. . . . .

"Let me introduce you to my star saleswoman. She does a lot of the Vees advertisements in tv, newspaper, and magazine. Quite the talented one if I do say so myself. She's good for other things as well if you kbow what I mean." He was quite a cruel 'master'. Every single soul he owned was only allowed to do anything unless they are rented or if he decides to use them. And the way he made sure were restraints on both the face and arms. A metal mask was bolted to behind there heads covering their whole face with matching metal restraints that kept their forearms tight against their backs.

This woman was no different. On the other hand, her clothing was rather elegant. A beautiful evening gown that looked like it'd have been popular in the 1920s. It was a loose-fitting floor length dress that flared at the knees; low v-neck, flowy mesh sleeves. The base of it was red silk while the outside was full of fringe and black lace details. Her hair was black with curls that reached her shoulders, with long ears sticking out the top of her head. Little fluffy tail sticking out the back of her dress, and to top it off were her very long paws. I guess her feet were to big to find shoes for her. A rabbit demon?

"Does this one at the very least have a name?" Alastor questioned Maere. He thought about it before snapping his fingers.

"Ah yes! She is soul 19,281!" He pushed her into Alastor's chest, making her stumble and drop something off around her neck. Maere released her from the restraints letting her scramble for the necklace on the ground. He disappeared letting Alastor do his thing.

"I despise having to do dealings with that demon. Are you alright little lady." Alastor leaned down to grab the necklace for her. A locket? He opened it seeing the inside, having it suddenly be ripped from his hand. It was him and his wife. The two finally gazed up at each other in awe.

"...Lili?"

[lethby]

What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

I know it sounds crazy but if they could pull off lesson 16, they can pull this off

Make the brothers indecisive

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

[httplilyyy]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 | 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: everything must come to an end

warnings: descriptions of violence, murder, gore, blood (lots of it), multiple character deaths, knives, guns, swearing, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 4.5k

a/n: the final part for ‘new york, new rules’! I hope you’ve liked this little series as much as I have enjoyed writing it :)

scream masterlist | prev. part | epilogue

007. XIII - crazy lixx 

‘time to die!’

Standing with your feet rooted to the floor, you watched as Sidney made herself known to everyone in the room. 

“I had a feeling you could use my help.” Sidney said, walking over to you, ignoring everyone else. 

“You can’t be here-”

“You just won’t die, will you!?” Jill yelled, cutting you off.

“I could say the same about you.” Sidney rebutted, turning to the younger woman. 

“Well, shit.” Bailey chuckled looking between you and Sidney. “Look who decided to show up.”

“Look,” Sidney sighed, clearly tired after doing this multiple times before, “I don’t know who the fuck you are and nor do I care, so why dont you just leave us be.”

“Oh, you know I can't do that.” Bailey tutted, shaking his head.

“You’ll slip.” Sidney shrugged, looking back at Jill. “They always do.”

“You just got lucky.” Jill snapped and at the same time Ethan lurched forward, his knife stabbing Sam just above her collar bone.

Tara took a hold on Sam's hand, pulling her sister away from Ethan. The boy held a large smile on his face as he followed after the two.

“Now, it wasn’t until I saw the photograph of what you’d done to him that I knew you had to fucking die!” Bailey shouted out from the top of his lungs, watching as Ethan and Quinn surrounded Tara and Sam.

Ethan felt his blood pump faster as Sam and Tara swung their bricks over at him whenever he got too close. Intense thrill coursed through his veins as he playfully swung the knife over at them, purposely missing every single time.

"You had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way." Bailey's loud voice continued to echo throughout the theatre, a scowl on his face as he glared at the two.

Sam's eyes darkened as she glanced up to meet Quinn's eyes, the thoughts running behind them being anything but pure. Quinn noticed the change almost immediately, and she tucked her knife under her chin, lightly placing it against her skin as she tilted her head up. 

"There she is." Quinn whispered, closing some of the distance between them. "There's the fucking killer.”

"Real great parenting job by the way." Tara interjected, realising that their entire family had gone insane.

"Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Quinn screamed, shoving the shorter girl with a hard push, along with Sam who was standing right beside her.

"Have I been the perfect dad? No. Have I maybe over indulged Richie's love of these little movies? Yeah, maybe." Bailey told them, tears on the brink of releasing as his voice cracked slightly. "For me they're just a little dark, but Richie really loved them. He even made a few of his own." 

Everyone’s gaze turned to face the large curtain that was showcasing one of Richie's films. Unknowingly, you felt a scowl form its way onto your face, scoffing at how someone would want to recreate this nightmare.

"Did you- did you know?" Bailey began, walking over to the stage and climbing up the few stairs to get on top of the stage so he could see the screen more clearly. "There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

Ethan's mouth twitched, the muscle in his jaw tightened as he glanced away from his father. Bailey brought out his hands to showcase the entire room as he told them, "Which is why I helped him build this collection."

"This was all his?" Sam questioned, looking around her.

“What a fucking creep.” You muttered, glancing at Bailey before turning to look at Jill, the older woman watching Bailey with excitement. 

"Yes, he's a very passionate collector, and he inspired others." Bailey gloated, glancing around the room at all the multiple different objects that he had given his son, remembering faintly the way his face lit up whenever he brought him something new. "Oh, we had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to kill you first, Sam."

"I put the theatre in their name, and then good old Detective Bailey would have just stumbled on it, but I didn't have to because my golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist."

At the mention of Gale’s name you felt your body stiffen, a dark gaze swimming beneath your eyes, and it wouldn't take long for any of them to realise it if they simply turned around to look at you. 

"I built a tribute to my son, which is why this is where you have to die, Sam." Bailey's voice thickened, his facial expression blank. "Surrounded by all the things he loved the most."

"What happens next?" Sam asked frantically, glancing around at each of them to get a little more insight on their thought process. "When after you're done with us, what? You just disappear?"

"No, I gotta hurry over to the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through." Bailey scoffed as he walked down the small steps to get off the stage and pulled his gun right at the older girl. "Because everybody dies, Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son, suffers and dies!"

"Fuck yeah, they do!" Quinn agreed.

"Yeah!" Ethan shouted, nodding his head along to his fathers words.

"Now put on the mask." Bailey ordered, his words seething through his teeth as Sam glanced down to the floor where the ghostface mask was lying.

"He was," Sam whispered, breathing heavily as she shook her head lightly, "so pathetic."

"Huh?" Bailey's mouth hung open as he tilted his head in disbelief. "Th- that's not true."

"Yeah, your son," Sam continued, eyes holding no regret for the words she was throwing out breathlessly. "He was a man baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

“He was a strong feral young man.” Bailey proclaimed, glaring at Sam.

“He was a limp dick, little fuck, who cried before I slit his throat.” Sam said, her eyes hardening as she narrowed them down on Bailey. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn screamed, finally losing control of her anger and running over to Sam with her knife, but Tara was already prepared for her little outburst, and she swung her brick right towards Quinn's jaw, throwing it into her face with full force and watching as a couple of her teeth were knocked out of her mouth as she fell down to the floor.

At that exact moment, Kirby appeared with her gun and shot a couple of bullets over towards Bailey. You ducked down and covered Sidney as you watched Ethan stab Kirby before Sam smacked a brick over his head. 

The older Carpenter took the knife from Kirby and stabbed Ethan repeatedly, the boy groaning in pain as he fell back.

"Sam." Tara called out, glancing back at her sister. “Come on.”

You got up and faced Jill, the woman looking at you menacingly. Sidney stood at your side, her gaze hardening on her cousin. 

Jill flipped the knife in her hand, a grin on her face told you that she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You really want to do this?” You questioned, getting into a fighting stance.

“You know I do.” Jill replied, her grip tightening on the knife.

“Then let's dance” You said, tilting your head and creating a ‘come here’ motion with your hand.

Jill ran towards you and Sidney, swinging her arm haphazardly, hoping to cut you with the knife in her hand. 

You coordinated your punches with Sidney and you eventually landed a heavy punch to Jill’s ribs, sending the woman back, reeling in pain. 

It didn’t take long for Jill to recover and she was soon running back towards you. Sidney went to punch Jill in the face but she dodged the attack and sent the older woman to the floor with a harsh shove.

Having the wind knocked out of her, Sidney stayed on the floor watching as Jill charged towards you, stabbing her knife towards your face. You blocked it and held her wrists back but got distracted when you heard a gunshot ring out followed by a scream.

You looked to your right and saw Tara grasping onto Sam’s hand as she hung over the edge of the balcony. The older Carpenter held Tara’s hand with all her might but due to the cut on her arm, blood dripped down making Tara slip from her hold. 

“Tara!” You shouted, momentarily distracted and Jill added more pressure to her knife causing it to slip through your hold and into your shoulder. “Fuck!”

Jill then used all her weight to push you down and the pin you to the floor. She straddled your waist and pulled the knife from your shoulder, trying to stab you in the face once again. 

Using all your force, you kept the knife away from your head. Sweat and blood ran down your face, some of it made its way into your eyes, making it hard for you to see. 

“Jill, stop.” You grunted, feeling the tip of the knife make its way closer to your face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do this?” Jill repeated sarcastically. “I can finally get my revenge and become the famous final girl.”

“Stop with this final girl bullshit! It’s never going to happen!” 

“And what does it matter to you anyway, y/n? You won’t even be here to see it come true.”

“You forgot one thing, Jill.” You said, breathlessly, your arms getting tired. 

“And what’s that?” Jill hissed, grinning down at you widely.

“Never turn you back on Sidney Prescott!”

Sidney came up from behind Jill, stabbing a knife of her own in the younger woman's back. Jill let out a scream, her back arching in pain and she let go of the knife in her hand.

“C’mon, sis,” you sighed, wiping the sweat from your forehead as your hand reached for Jill’s knife, your fingers grasped around it and you plunged it into her side, just under her ribs. “you should know by now, never fuck with the original.”

“How sentimental.” Jill laughed through gritted teeth, groaning in pain as you pushed the knife in deeper with a hardened glare.

“It’s only a taste of your own medicine.” You said, your gaze hardening.

Sidney took the knife out of Jill’s back and you pushed her off you. Getting back on your own two feet, you looked down at Jill, your knife still in her stomach.

You took a step forward, kneeling over Jill as you tilted your head to the side, your eyes boring into hers. You took the knife out of her side and trailed it down from her throat and towards to her chest.

Twirling the knife against Jill’s chest, anticipation coursed through her, your hands itching to dig the sharp weapon into her body.

"Fuck you." Jill launched her fist upwards to try and punch you in the face, but you were the one with the knife, so you pushed the knife in just above her clavicle.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Jill muttered, her words barely above a whisper, blood loss taking a toll on her.

“Probably, but you’re too late now.” You shrugged before you leaned down to whisper in her ear, “hold still.” You raised the knife, digging the sharp metal into her chest. She cried in anguish as you sliced her skin, watching the blood drip down her body. 

Jill placed her hands against your chest, trying to pry you off her body as she struggled to move from underneath you. You brought the knife upwards once more, impaling it into her body, digging it as far into her as the knife could reach.

“S-stop!” Jill stuttered, blood filling in her mouth as she tried to get you to stop in any way possible. “Please. Y/n, please.”

Your chest heaved up and down, you halted your ministrations and looked down at her below you.

“I’m sorry.” Jill coughed, blood splattering on your clothes. “I- I didn’t mean to do any of this.”

You stood up, looking to your side, you saw Sidney look at you with an unreadable expression. She reached behind her and pulled a gun from the back of her belt.

Wordlessly, she handed it to you. You took it from her hesitantly before looking back at Jill, her eyes going back and forth from you to the gun.

“No, no, please. Y/n, don’t do this. Please.” Jill begged, holding up her hands in front of her with all the strength she had left.

You gave Jill one last look before raising the gun up to her head before pulling the trigger. Everything felt numb as you watched your sister's body slump to the floor, blood still pouring from her wounds.

You were soon snapped out of your haze once you heard Tara let out a scream. From behind you, you watched as Tara got stabbed in the stomach by Ethan.

"Gotcha!" Ethan laughed, grinning from ear to ear as he ran his eyes over the girl's wound.

Tara recovered from the stab pretty quickly and shoved her knife deep inside Ethan's mouth, breathing heavily as she watched the pain in his eyes glimmer. 

She let him swallow up his agony for a few seconds before twisting the knife inside, enjoying the painful noises he was making as blood dripped down his mouth. 

"Now die a fucking virgin." Tara sneered, watching as his eyes widened before she pulled the knife out of his mouth. 

His blood splattered on her face and clothing, but she didn't care as she let out a low laugh, lowering down the knife and glancing up to meet your eyes with a smile.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, a low whistle falling from your mouth as you looked at the younger Carpenter impressed. 

Another gunshot rang throughout the theatre and you looked up at Sam, the girl pointing her gun at Quinn’s body which fell with a loud thud, a bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. 

“I thought she’d put up more of a fight.” You mumbled as your chest heaved up and down.

“It seems that you three didn’t need my help after all.” Sidney said, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“How did you even get in, anyway?” You asked, looking at the older woman.

“I have my ways.” Sidney smiled. “Being the final girl has some perks.”

You were going to reply but your words got caught in your throat as you watched Sam fall from the balcony and down to the floor below her with Bailey.

You rushed over to Sam, Sidney hot on your tail as the two of you had worried expressions pasted on your faces.

Sam coughed, holding her stomach as she sat up. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn around and shove you to the floor, immediately regretting it once she saw it was you.

“You okay, there Carpenter?” You asked, looking up at Sam, your hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry.” Sam apologised, holding a hand out for you to grab.

Sam pulled you up from the floor and the two of you stood facing Tara and Sidney, finally being able to take a breath from all the fighting.

“I have a plan to kill Bailey.” Sam spoke up, a hand holding her ribs, still slightly sore from the fall.

“What do you want us to do?” Sidney questioned, looking at Sam intently.

“I need one of you to take these.” Sam said, holding her phone up as well as a voice changer. “And make a phone call for me.”

“I’ll do it.” Tara said, taking the phone from her sister’s hand.

“And what should we do?” You wondered, gesturing between yourself and Sidney.

“You go with Tara and stay somewhere safe until it's okay to come back out.”

“Roger that.” You smiled, sending a salute towards Sam before walking off with Tara and Sidney. 

You turned around and saw Sam putting on her father’s ghostface robe and mask before getting in her position.

Bailey groaned, rubbing his head as he got up from the floor. He looked around and saw that it was only him left in the theatre. 

Pulling his gun from his holster, Bailey jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. 

“Hello detective Bailey,” Tara said over the phone, the Ghostface voice coming through on Bailey’s phone. “I have one question for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Bailey replied, walking up to the stage where the ghostface mannequins were. “What’s that?”

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Favourite scary movie?” Bailey repeated with a chuckle. 

“I’m asking because you’re in one now. You’re in my movie.”

“Oh, and I see you’ve put on your true face, huh? Your birthright.” Bailey said as he shot two mannequins in the head before looking at Billy’s mannequin which didn’t have a robe on it. “Poetic you’re gonna die in it.”

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” 

“Now you know the truth, huh?” Bailey said after shooting another mannequin. “Murder’s in your blood. Stop fucking around and show yourself!”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Alright, I am a fucking police officer, how do you think this is going to go, Sam?” Bailey shouted down the phone. “Who d’you think they’re gonna believe, huh?”

“Probably the one who’s still alive.”

Bailey screamed, smashing his phone to the ground, panting as he shook his head. Sam walked on the stage behind him, tilting her head as he turned around. Bailey stammered back, screaming loudly as Sam stabbed every inch of his body that she could. 

When she finally stopped, Sam let Bailey fall to the ground as she took off her mask. The man looked up at her, choking on his own blood. As Sam was about to finish him off for good, Tara came up beside her, you and Sidney opting to stay back.

“My father was a murderer.” Sam said breathlessly. “No matter what you think, I'm better than that.”

Sam looked down at her sister, the latter tilting her head as she relaxed her face. Sam let a small smirk take over her features before turning back to Bailey.

“But you did fuck with our family, so...” Sam said, gripping her knife harder as she shoved it into Bailey’s eye, the man screaming in pain. 

“Nice.” Tara nodded, watching as life drained from Bailey.

“Thanks.” Sam replied. “You okay?”

“No.” Tara chuckled with a shake of her head. 

Sam gave a nod of acknowledgement as she took off her robe. You watched as the sisters walked to the stairs where they sat down, you and Sidney sitting beside them.

Tara rested her head against your shoulder and you gently took a hold of her hand, rubbing comforting circles on the back.

“Thank you for letting me go.” Tara said, looking at her sister as she kept her head on your shoulder.

“I knew you could take care of yourself.” Sam replied and the two sisters shared a smile between them. “I want to be in your life, but only as much as you want me to be.”

“I want you to be.” Tara said quickly. “I promise you I am going to get so much therapy after this. I’m serious. We're going to get through this. Together.” 

All of a sudden, the peaceful moment was interrupted when Ethan ran towards you four, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chin. Before Ethan could get near, a broken TV was pushed off a table and onto his head, the boy falling to the ground, finally being killed.

“Saw that in a scary movie once.” Kirby smiled, looking over at Sidney as the woman held a look of surprise.

The doors to the theatre were opened, multiple cops running in as Danny followed quickly behind. Sam quickly got up and made her way towards him, being followed closely behind by you, Tara, Sidney and Kirby.

“Are you okay?” Danny questioned, looking Sam over as he cupped her cheeks with a worried look on his face before pulling her into a quick hug.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded with a small smile.

“I thought you might need some reinforcements. And I called the hospital, Mindy and Gale are going to be okay. Mindy’s on her way here now, they couldn’t stop her.”

“Not bad cute boy.” Tara nodded.

“Thanks.” 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Sidney said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You gave a weak nod, walking out of the theatre with everyone. Once you got wind of fresh air you were rushed into the back of an ambulance. A medic tending to the cuts on your face along with the stab wound in your shoulder.

Sidney sat beside you, the woman holding your hand every time you winced from the pain. After the medic was finished they gave you one more check up before moving onto something else.

Finally feeling fatigue catch up with you, you rested your head against Sidney’s arm. The older woman let a smile form on her face as she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“You’re a brave kid.” Sidney said softly, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. “You should never have had to shoot your sister.”

“She lost the right to be my sister when she started killing people.” You said, moving out of Sidney’s embrace.

“Still, no one should ever have to go through what you’ve been through.” 

“I could say the same about you.” You chuckled, bumping your shoulder into hers.

“At least I didn't get stabbed this time, just a little winded.”

“You’re getting old for this, Prescott.” 

“Watch it, y/l/n.”

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” You said, a laugh bubbling up from your throat as you held your hands up in surrender.

“I think someone is looking for you.” Sidney said, nodding her head in the direction of a frantic looking Tara, standing beside her sister.

“I’ll be right back.” You said, quickly getting up and making your way over to the girl.

“Y/n!” Tara said, finally spotting you. She ran towards you, the two of you meeting in the middle. “Shit, are you okay? I- I was so caught up I forgot to ask and-”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You cut Tara off, gently placing a hand underneath her chin, using your forefinger and thumb to tilt her head up.

Tara’s breathing was erratic, her heart practically beating out of her chest but she complied. Tara wrapped her hands around your shoulders and pulled you down for a kiss. 

You both sighed contently into the kiss. Easily getting lost in each other’s presence. Butterflies fluttered all around in your stomach as you finally got to kiss your girl with no matter in the world.

“Sorry, that was a bit forward.” You mumbled pulling away, scratching the back of your neck as you rocked backwards and forwards on your feet.

Tara didn’t care and she placed her hands on the side of your face, pulling you into a kiss that took all of the air out of your lungs. Your eyes went wide with shock but you quickly fell back into reality and placed your hands on Tara’s waist, pulling her closer and letting yourself fall into the kiss.

Tara let out a small gasp once your lips separated and you smiled once you saw her chest rapidly falling up and down with a small blush coating her cheeks and you couldn't help the smile that threatened to break out on your face.

Due to the closeness of the two of you, both your faces barely an inch away from each other, you could see every intricate detail on her face. You admired her for a little while but you couldn’t contain yourself so you crashed your lips back against hers. 

The kiss broke naturally, leaving pecks as you moved your face away from Tara. You rested your forehead against Tara’s, small chuckles falling from your lips.

“Your sister is going to kill me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around Tara’s shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“One-hundred percent.” Tara replied, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your chest.

“You’re worth it.” You mumbled, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Okay, you two.” Sidney said, walking over to you and Tara. “That's enough sappy shit for now.”

“Sid!” You exclaimed, looking at the woman in shock. “What the hell!”

“Oh come on, let’s go see Kirby.” Sidney said, walking over to where Kirby and Sam were.

You followed behind, hand in hand with Tara, taking your time together. 

“You ever need me, call.” Kirby said, talking to Sam, but turning to you and Tara as she saw you both walk over. “We’re all apart of the same fucked up family now. And also, legacy doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, okay?”

You smiled at Kirby but it quickly vanished once you heard Tara sniffle beside you, the younger Carpenter looking to the ground as her bottom lip started to quiver, tears falling from her eyes.

“Hey.” Kirby said, looking over at Tara, seeing as you pulled her into your arms.

“It’s just Chad-”

“Hey we got another one here!” A medic shouted, wheeling the boy out on a stretcher.

“Chad!” Tara shouted, running over to the boy with you and Sam not far behind her.

“How the fuck are you still alive?” You muttered, looking at him in disbelief.

Chad smiled, holding his hand up and showing five fingers. 

“Core fucking five.” Tara smiled, pulling the boy into a hug.

“Oh my god, you guys okay?” Mindy shouted, running over to you. “I know who the killer is, it's Ethan and Bailey.”

“And Quinn.” Sam said.

“And Quinn, fuck!” Mindy huffed.

“And Jill.” You added.

“Jill? But she was dead? Wait, I missed the monologue again!” Mindy shook her head, not believing it all, holding on to her brother's side as he was wheeled into the back of an ambulance. “Wait, are you okay? You don’t look okay. Oh my god we all survived.” 

As Chad and Mindy were taken away in an ambulance, Sam looked down in her coat that was hiding her fathers mask, seemingly in a trance she was snapped out of it by Tara’s voice.

“Sam.” Tara said, her hand grasping yours. “You coming?”

Sam nodded her head with a smile, dropping the mask to the floor. She walked up to you two and the three of you walked back over to Sidney, the woman standing by herself as Kirby was taken to a hospital too.

“You guys going to be okay?” Sidney asked, her gaze focusing on you for a moment longer.

“We will be.” Sam said, looking over at you and Tara.

“Yeah, we’ve got each other.” You smiled, tightening your grip on Tara’s hand. 

“Just like Kirby said, if you need anything, you call me. Okay?” Sidney said, reciprocating your smile. 

“We will.” You nodded. Sidney gave you one last look before walking off and down the road. 

“So…” Sam trailed off, looking at you and Tara then glancing down to your conjoined hands. “You two a thing now?”

“Oh my god, Sam!”

tag list: @andsoigotabutterfly @dksjskx @dreifhraniquo29 @karsonromanoff @btay3115 @bananasplits-world @youralphawolf72 @beaniiekidd

[yandereforme]

Yan Batfam x Singer! Single mom! Martha lookalike! Reader

( I know it’s a lot but they are all important to the plot)

Part 1:Beginnings and first encounters

You are Bruce’s bio daughter. Your mom, who didn’t know who the father of her kid was, gave you up to your aunt to be raised by them, but you didn’t know until your adoptive parent’s funeral that you weren’t their biological daughter. You had twins recently with a shitty ex of yours who you broke up with not long before the funeral after he tried to hurt your daughter for crying.

After the funeral, where you learn that your bio mom wasn’t sure who your bio dad was, but that she knew he lived in Gotham, you decide to move to Gotham. In part due to your biological father, in part due to avoiding your ex(who had refused to be listed on the birth certificate since you gave birth during a break in your relationship), and in part due to the basically free house your bio mom had owned in Gotham. So, you moved with the twins to an abandoned, slightly dilapidated house just outside of Crime Alley, and got yourself to work.

You got a job at the Ice berg Lounge, in part due to there being an opening, and in part due to you helping two women who worked there who apparently worked right under Mr. Cobblepot?

You quickly got a reputation as a singer with a knack for knowing just what song fit a customer. It was a bit of a game between you and the other workers, where they would point out a person and you would sing a song based on their vibes. You always managed your hit home with your songs, leading to you becoming one of the most popular performers at the Iceberg Lounge.

That’s what leads to Red Hood coming in one night. He had heard about you from a few of his men, and wanted to know what all the hype was about.(This take place after the Red Hood arc, where he has already been established as a crime boss and the Batfamily know his identity, but he hasn’t made up with any of them)

Cobblepot asked you to sing a song for Red, and pointed him out to you. You knew who he was, you were just outside his area, and honestly you kind of liked what he was doing for the community, so you were willing to preform, even offering to sing two songs about him(something you had only done a few times with regulars who you really liked.

Jason accepted. You started off with You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. You didn’t usually do a lot of rock songs, but that song resonated with you when you looked at him.(Jason loved the song. It was angry but fighting music, and your voice was really good. He understood why so many of his men praised your music(he just couldn’t understand why you looked so familiar))

The next song was different. You didn’t usually sing two songs, and the few times you did, people tended to vary reactions, from shock to anger to accidentally setting off a break down. But you had promised. You just hoped Red Hood wouldn’t hate you for the next song(you didn’t understand why it felt so right to sing the next song, when it didn’t seem like a Red Hood song, but you didn’t want to question it now.)

Then, you sang Good for you by Olivia Rodrigo, and everyone froze. (Jason didn’t know how you knew this anger of his. How did you know how he felt about Bruce replacing him? How did you know?) No one understood the song, especially when the recipient was a murderous crime boss, but they didn’t interrupt.

After you finished the song, you looked at Red Hood. He was sitting ramrod straight. You couldn’t see his face, but his posture was very tense. Slowly, he stood up, and walked to the stage. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t for him to drop $200 in your tip jar, and leave without a word.(Jason’s head was spinning. The green wasn’t invading, but it surrounded the edges of his vision. He needed to leave. He had to come back again, probably as a civilian, but for now, he needed to leave.)

After that, you got even more visitors, and a raise in your salary. You even made a new friend, Jason, and you were even starting to consider sending your kids to daycare instead of a baby sitter(you wouldn’t do that. You liked your arrangement with the street kids, where you would pay them in food and cash to watch your kids during the day. You liked taking care of them, but they needed to feel like they were doing stuff for you, so you didn’t make a fuss.)

Then, the Joker got out of Arkham.

Edit: I hope you guys enjoy this. This will probably be a series. I’ve had this idea for ages but never got around to it before now. This isn’t related to my Bruce or Jason series, which I will do, but I just wanted to finally put the on here. Please comment any suggestions for the kids names, or what you want to see next!

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Hear me out!

Sam’s killer side is more dormant and her bloodlust is out of control and she’s feeling the overwhelming need to kill someone. By this point, she’d stopped trying to fight it. Reader is a friend/girlfriend who knows enough about Sam and her urges to offer her a substitute; letting her fuck you stupid. As kinky as you can think of with sprinkles of blood play, knife play, heavy degradation and praise. Sam 100% has a strap, she just does and loooooves to make her choke on it. You didn’t really believe Sam would hurt anyone and you’d never seen her kill anybody first hand before but by the time she was finished with you, you knew that she was far more than capable and the thought of that was nothing short of a turn on.

Oh, Anon. You were the first person to submit for the Ghostface Sam fic prompts, and you nailed it in one. So here we are! My first Sam Carpenter fic! And the first fic of the new year! Let's get into it, I hope this is dirty enough for you!

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.8K. Ghostface! Sam Carpenter X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Blood. Mentions Of Murder. Begging. Oral Sex. Cunnilingus. Face Sitting. Cum Eating. Strap On Sex. Spanking. Knife Play. Blood Play. Knife Used As A Makeshift Sex Toy. Multiple Orgasms. Squirting. Praise. Degradation. Dirty Talk. Rough Sex. Sam Is Mean. You Love It. Edging. Mild Orgasm Denial. Asking For Permission.

---

"Make It Hurt."

---

The itch is becoming completely unbearable. How is she meant to cope with this? Nothing is able to keep her mind off the intense want to maim and destroy. 

She should be happy. Her last spree went so well, she got away scott-fucking-free, everyone views her as the helpless survivor of an attack when in reality she did it and framed the real victims. It’s been months, far too long, and she is feeling the urges bubbling up inside of her once again. She can’t go around killing without some sort of plan, it’s just asking to get caught and if she ends up in jail then she’ll never get to again. A complete nightmare, and one she wants to do everything possible to prevent. 

It is to the point she is having trouble sleeping. Other hobbies are dull and lifeless, she has low motivation, food is bland, her mind is just consumed with thoughts of running through warm bodies with cold steel, of slicing, cutting, draining every single last drop of blood from a person. She needs to plan appropriately so she can hopefully satisfy her bloodlust, but she’s waited too long, the planning stage isn’t working as it normally is, it’s not fun, it’s frustrating her even further. She doesn’t want to plot, she just wants satisfaction now, she wants to feel the hot spray of blood hitting her face, soaking into her clothes, she isn’t able to pull the creative resources she needs from herself to do what the job would require, the well is dry. 

You wake up to find her side of the bed empty and long gone cold, rolling over your check your phone, it’s past 3 AM. You groan and sit up, why isn’t she in bed? Furthermore, you’d insisted she get some sleep with you tonight, she’d been up late a lot this week, and you could see how restless and antsy she was getting, irritable and unable to keep her mood even. You get out of bed, pausing to get your robe off the hook on the back of the door, you pull it on and tie up the belt at your waist as you leave to go find her. 

Sam is unable to sleep, she’s in the living room in the dark, a favoured gore fest of a horror movie on the TV and her favourite knife in her hand. She has her feet up, one hand is playing with a lock of her hair curling it around her finger, winding and unwinding it over and over, the opposite hand occupied with flipping the knife, a casual but impressive trick, the flick of her wrist practised, natural, complete muscle memory. She is still dressed in what she wore to bed, braless in the well fitting and tight white t-shirt, cotton dove grey shorts that creep high up her thighs. You lean against the wall and watch her for a moment. 

You know what this is, you can see it in her body language, the tension is radiating off of her. She is unfulfilled, she is craving to hurt, she wants to kill, enact things she is watching on the screen, the desire to spill blood is overtaking her. She is smart, calculating, she knows that now is not the right time, but that doesn’t change the frustration she feels. You wish she could do what she really wanted to, but you know just as well as her it’s a bad fucking idea. 

You knock quietly on the wall, and it makes her react immediately, sitting up, even more tense, she stops flipping the knife, gripping the handle, her head turns and upon seeing you she relaxes slightly. She slumps back into her original position, still holding the knife, she says quietly, “Hey.”

You walk over, returning her greeting, “Hey yourself.” Taking the seat next to her, you look over to her, a hand rests on her thigh, and you ask, “You okay?” 

“Can’t sleep.” She sighs, and you laugh lightly, your hand squeezes her thigh, “Yeah, I can see that.” 

“Sorry, I know you hate waking up alone I just, I couldn’t keep lying in bed awake-” Her dark brown eyes meet your gaze, and you lean closer, shushing her, “Stop that, you’ve got a lot on your mind right now clearly, stop worrying so much about me.” 

You are much more concerned about her than yourself, you adjust, one knee on the couch, you lean over further, one hand still firmly on her thigh and the other on the backrest of the couch. “I know what’s up with you-” 

A dip of your head, your lips brush hers, a small peck before you pull back, continuing your thought, “-all pent-up, like you are locked in a cage, unable to do what you really want.” 

She leans up, steals a kiss, and you indulge her momentarily before breaking it again, “We both know you can’t, not till you relieve some of this stress, so…”

Your hand leaves her thigh, fingers curl around her wrist and pulling up her hand, you have her slip her fingers through the opening of your robe over your chest, let her get a handful of you, arching closer into her touch you offer yourself up, “Take it all out on me.” 

Her breath hitches, she doesn’t pull away, in fact her touch gets bolder, greedier, feeling you up, your lips barely an inch apart as she responds, “Baby, I can’t do that, I’ll hurt you-”

“I want you to hurt me. You need to draw blood to feel better? Why not mine?” Your hand is off her wrist, instead it latches onto her hand, the one holding the knife. Your head moves, gives some more breathing room, you hold the blade to your own thigh, exposed between the folds of your robe, the one you are kneeling on. You press, drag the unyielding silver over flesh, and you gasp from the jolt of pain, both of you watch as the skin splits and crimson begins to drip. Her resolve is splintering, you whimper out, “Please Sam?”

Those two words, that plea, begging, unlocks something in her. Makes some part of her snap, the last vestiges of self-control are abandoned in short order. 

She practically drags you back to the bedroom. 

You think at first she is going to have you on the bed, toss you onto the comforter and plush sheets, no that is apparently too good for you when she is in the mood, and you know that because she tells you as much. She pushes you down onto the dark hardwood floor, your eyes are questioning, which leads her to tell you, “C’mon sweetheart, you told me you wanted it to hurt, and I’m going to give you just what you asked for.” 

She’s standing over you, passing the knife from hand to hand, sadistic smile playing on her lips and as she stares down at you, her look tattles on her thoughts, she's considering what to do with you, playing around mentally with just what she wants to do to you first. You watch as she starts to take her shorts off, knife still in one hand, she drops the fabric onto the floor and then next she is removing that all lace black panties she had on underneath, and you are already salivating at the view of her. 

Your eyes are locked between her legs, you love every single part of her, but you’d be a filthy fucking liar if you couldn’t be honest about how much you adored her bare like this. You roam, from the well maintained patch of black hair to her prominent clitoral hood and the plump lips you could suck and toy with for hours. 

You get your wish, she knows you well and what you are craving. She moves, standing over you and then lowers herself down, her knees on either side of your head as she straddles your face. Hands move on instinct, you reach up and grip her hips, moaning against her as soon as the flavour of her hits your tongue. Swiping up through her folds, getting a better taste before passing over her clit, you hum indulgently and repeat the motion. Over and over, taking care to spend more time focusing on that most sensitive part of her. She is moving her hips, grinding herself down on your lips and tongue, with a deep moan, “Fuck, you are the best little cunt eater around.” 

You preen under her praise, it makes you work harder to please her, sucking deeply, eyes falling closed with another hum that makes her body buck on top of you. She is loving this, riding your pretty face, and you love it too, the taste of her, getting her wetter and wetter, listening to her moans and feeling her thighs clenching around your head. It is bliss, it is your purpose, to be used for her pleasure and enjoyment, nothing is better. 

She reaches back and her fingers press on the cut on your thigh, the blood had slowed significantly and the rush of pain makes you moan louder against her. “What a pain slut you are. I bet if it touched you that you’d be fucking soaked.” 

You know that to be true, your thighs rub together, and you feel the wetness staining them, you want some attention for yourself, but you want to keep pleasing her much, much more. You forget your own leaking cunt and choose to continue focusing on her instead. 

She rolls her body again, her wetness is all over your face, it had started to run down your chin, you feel it on your neck. Your fingers squeeze her hips, and you continue to eat her out, you knew you were affecting her, her dirty talk is becoming more fractured, moaning much more. “God yeah-ugh-there you go, jus-just like that, ohhh, suck that fucking clit like you mean it.” 

Her body starts to react in that way that you know all too well, tensing, breath coming in shorter gasps. She hadn’t even been riding your face for that long, but you were exceptionally skilled at this, had more than enough practice and knew how to get her off quickly, adept at giving her powerful orgasms with nothing more than your mouth. Knowing much better than to stop now, you keep going, unrelenting, feverish, you continue your current action, having pulled her clit into your mouth, tongue flicking over it while it is encased in the wet heat of you and in less than a minute more you are rewarded with her cumming on your face. You never grew tired of this, of her shuddering on top of you through her release, the minute movements as she wrung out every bit of sensation she could, the near guttural moan of your name that would pass through her lips. 

It made you leak more, clench around nothing, long to feel the same.

Her body becomes still, but her breathing is still erratic, she raises up on her knees a little to give you some breathing room. You are staring up at her, you watch with rapt interest as she removes her shirt and tosses it, leaving her totally naked still on top of you. She is looking back down at you, a half smile playing on her features, one that is dangerous. She sets the knife down on the floor, and you know better than to even think about going for it. After a moment more to recover, she is getting up, ordering you firmly to, “Stay.”

You do as you are told. Laying there on the floor as you watch her move, she steps over you and out of your line of sight, you don’t even dare to turn your head to follow where she goes. You hear the opening of some drawers, you know what she is after. You hear her speak from somewhere behind you, “Strip.” 

Hands scramble, rushing to comply, you take your robe off and toss it into the far corner of the room, leaving you totally bare. Sam insists you sleep naked, much prefers having you open and exposed, something you do not mind at all and do for her willingly. The floor feels hard and cool against your back, you have no real time to rest, you hear her footsteps coming close again and then there are fingers in your hair, they twine and twist, she pulls, tugging hard, “On your knees' whore, now”

You suck in a harsh inhale through your teeth, the sharp stab of pain radiating down the base of your skull, and you do as asked, getting up onto your knees, her firm hand guiding you. She’s back in your field of vision now, and she’s gotten her favourite toy to use with you, her strapless strap on. 

It is dark purple and looks striking, totally stunning against her skin, it’s long and thick as it sits heavy between her legs, jutting outwards, it’s ribbed and whenever she has you it fills you up beautifully, hits all the best spots. In short, it makes you into a totally blissed out well fucked mess whenever she fucks you with it. With no straps, the way it is secured is with a curved and rather bulbous end that she inserts into herself, gives her something to clench on and when she gets into a good rhythm with fucking you it presses over and over into her g-spot. Further still, the toy contours and curves with her body, a textured pad right behind the shaft that pushes against her clit, giving her a completely perfect way to stimulate herself with ease while she is fucking you, every thrust in and pull out, hitting her both externally and internally. 

You knew this next part very well. You needed to prep her strap for you to take it, you were soaked, totally dripping, but with how rough she was every bit helped. She pulls you near, and you move willingly, mouth opens, and with her other hand on the base of the toy she guides it between your lips. Cool silicone passes over your tongue as you close around it, you bob your head down, taking about half of the toy before pulling back, keeping just the tip between your lips. You loved when she made you blow her, she keeps pulling on your hair, guiding you, making you slide up and down her shaft, coating it in spit as you suck it. “You are so perfect, you know that? Just as cock hungry, right?”

You nod, eyes looking up at her as you work, focusing on blowing her and putting on a good show, but more than that too, when she makes you take it deeper? A hand on the back of your head, forcing you to take it as deep as you could, you choke and gag, when it hits the back of your throat she moans, you know this part feels the best. Whenever the tip of that dildo hits on something more solid, it provides a delectable jolt of pleasure for her. Both her hands are in your hair too, tugging and pulling, leading you to suck, drool is running down, drops landing on your own chest as she picks up the pace, moving her hips, fucking your face. 

You gag so hard you start to tear up, “Pretty, pretty girl, you look best with tears all over that face.”  You loved how she spoke to you, the mix she strikes of praise and degradation, of warmth and filth, it makes your blood sing. 

When you gag again, a bit too hard, that kind of gag that makes your pace falter and the tears finally start to fall she clucks her tongue disapprovingly, “Are you even trying?”

You nod and Sam urges, “Show me then. Prove me wrong.” There is a light slap to your cheek that makes you inhale sharply though your nose and work harder. You want to please her, you do the tricks you know, you try to get a handle on your breathing, you squeeze your thumbs in your fists to help tame your gag reflex, and you push yourself. When she is moaning in that particular pitch, you know you are doing well. 

You are doing so well in fact that she pulls the spit soaked shaft from your mouth, and she pushes you down, “Face down ass up.”

Your face is put down right there, into the mess that has collected, drips of spit and her arousal staining the wood, and your cheek is put into it, and you don’t fight it. She gets behind you, a rough slap to your ass that makes you groan, she loves how it sounds so she lays down a few more as she gets on her own knees. 

“You are leaking everywhere oh my God-” She laughs, but there is no malice in it, she spanks you again, the pain is slight but strong, burning, you take it just as she wants you to and then all of a sudden hurt gives way to ecstasy. She slid inside of you with no issue, complete ease, because just as she said you are drenched. How could you not be, after all the build up and what she said to you? How she treated you. Her hips are flush with your ass, she is completely inside of you, and she moans, grinding herself against you, and you moan too, after inhaling you finally push out that sound showing how good it felt. 

She pulls out halfway before slamming back into you to the hilt, the sensation rockets up your spine, the force of her thrust makes your body move, your cheek drags through the mess it is resting in and you moan. “Awe, you like that?”

You nod weakly, inhaling shakily, and the end breaks off into another choked off sob, “Course you do. You are so nasty, getting fucked face down in a puddle of drool.” She starts an even and steady pace, her hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the space of your shared bedroom. 

“Depraved, disgusting-” She changes the angle, brushes that place inside you that makes your nails bite into the wood below you and cry out, “Right there!”

Another hit to your ass so hard that you yelp, she degrades you further, “I know where it is. You are stupidly easy to please, then again, all bitches like you are.” 

“Sam, oh my God-” You gasp, and she laughs, “Sam, oh my Godddd-” she taunts, parroting back what you said, letting you really hear how needy and pathetic you are. 

“Aren’t you even a little embarrassed?” She asks, and you moan out, “Noo-ooohhhh-” 

“Course you aren’t, you’ve got entirely no shame.” She muses, her breathing is picking up as she is slamming into you, knowing she has found a particularly good rhythm that is working for her just as well. You are so consumed with everything she is doing to you that you don’t hear the sound of metal scraping, you don’t register her picking up the knife. 

You feel it. 

She cuts, desperate to harm and see more blood. The cuts are quick, light, surface level and each one is punctuated with another brutal thrust into you. One over your hip, outer thigh, the curve of your breast, you sob from each cut, hiccuping and wet and moan, deep and long from each hit of the head of her false cock on that swollen spot inside of you. The blood pours, it joins the mess on the floor, she presses her fingers to the wounds, causes more pain, you clench around her, she holds pace, but it gets messier, sloppier, she’s going to cum and you are so fucking close. 

You are a pain slut, but the bright bursts of hurt are keeping you on the opposite side of the edge, she can tell, you are struggling, crying, desperate, “Awe, you havin’ trouble cumming baby?”

“Ye-yes!” You whine, she tsk’s, “Need some help?”

“Puh-lease?!” You don’t give a shit how pathetic you sound any longer, all you know is the intense and all consuming need to cum already. You are dripping down your thighs, totally frustrated and keyed up, you feel like if you don’t cum soon you might die, it’s hard to breathe, as if you are drowning, choking on sensation itself. 

“Okay, I’ll help you, sweet thing.” You feel her move, her tits press into your back, her arms loop around you, one around your middle, over your waist and the other hand, the one still holding the knife is between your legs. The smooth and rounded end of the knife is dragged over the fresh cut on your thigh, it hurts, you yelp again, she catches the mess of blood, and then it is pressed to you. She used the blood for lube, the end of the knife was being pressed to your straining clit, she moves it in tight circles in time with her thrusts and having both spots abused inside and out has you falling apart in less than ten more thrusts. 

You don’t forget yourself, still, before you do tip over, you are good, you ask, “Sa-Sam, close, please? Fuck, fuck, please?!” It spills out in a rushed babble, breathless, she is panting too, and you can tell by the tone of voice in her reply she is near her end too, “Fuck yeah, good girl do it, you’ve earned it-”

That’s more than you need for it to happen. You cum so hard, you make a mess, moaning incoherently and loud enough you are positive you will get a noise complaint, thighs feeling like they will give out, shaking, sweaty, bloody, cunt spasming around her shaft still driving in and out of you as you squirt onto the floor. 

She loves when she makes you squirt, she is fucking you through your complete high, the mess is on her too, running down her toy and over her own slit, down her thighs, and it is enough to make her reach her end too. Your name stains her tongue as she peaks and holds deep, she grinds through the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body feels heavy and weak, the only thing holding her up is you. She doesn’t relent, over stimulation starts to set in, and you beg, “Stop, fuck-”

She drops the knife onto the floor, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Her hips have completely stopped, she is just sitting inside of you. Both of you are catching your breath, you ask, “Feeling better?”

“It’s a start.” She hums, and you laugh lightly, eyes falling closed, she slowly pulls out, and you wince slightly, feeling fucked out and sore in the best way, “Don’t get too comfortable, you have to clean me up still.” 

You knew she meant not only the end that was just inside you, but the one that was still resting snugly inside of her. 

[mystargirl-interlude]

𝑩𝑶𝑹𝑵 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑰𝑬

chapter 1 in the 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 book

When you are born in one of the districts in panem you are born to die, wether or not you are reaped or not.

if you aren't reaped you live in poverty and starve to death unless you're in a capitol district and if you are reaped and some how win the games the suffering never ends.

13 year old persephone sat one of the multiple rows at her second reaping, somehow making it through her first despite her name being in the bowl eight times due to her being caught multiple times trespassing, but now at 13 and her name being doubled in the bowl now at 16 pieces of paper.

"Hello! Hello! welcome to the 66th annual hunger games!" Says the district four escort who's name persephone couldn't care to remember

tuning out the screeching of her voice and deciding to take a look at her surroundings and everyone around her, she makes eye contact with last years winner, Finnick odair. She wouldn't deny that he was unbelievably attractive, but then she remembered she was being sent to get killed while he watched.

I hope i at least look good while being brutally murdered since the whole country was going to be watching she thought.

when she snapped out of her thoughts she saw that finnick and her were most definitely still in deep eye contact, he gave her a challenging look almost expecting her to look away first but she sent that look back 10 times harder, making him furrow his brows and quickly look away just in time as the movie about the history of the games ended

"well! let's get started with this years tributes, as always ladies first" she said as she dug her hand into the bowl

persephone wouldn't be surprised if the half the bowl was just her name

"and this years tribute representing district four is" she says unraveling the paper

"Persephone Levito!" it almost felt as the whole room went quite as the young girl was well known throughout the district for singing by the beach and her outfits, but before persephone it was her grandmother, she was well known and well loved and when she passed it took a toll on everyone in 4

Not surprised she rolls her eyes before remembering her act she needed to put on

eyes watering she slowly walks up to the stage wrapping her arms around ber self slightly shaking

she imagines she looks like one of those gross old chihuahuas her neighbor has

"hello dear, and how old might you be?"

"thirteen" she shakily exhales

"Lovely! and now on to our male tribute!" she smiles like she didn't just send a child off to her death

"and the male tribute representing district four is.. Christopher Monroe!"

if it was possible the day just got twenty times worse.

persephone knew christopher and she fucking hated his guts, they went to school together and he was the most annoying, obnoxious, disgusting specimen she's ever had to be around.

"These are our 66th Hunger games district four tributes! you may now shake hands!" she says

as they grasp hands she grip as hard as she can without breaking his hand while still maintaining her good girl façade

he pulls away as soon as possible and then they are pulled into the back to head to the train, all tributes are allowed five minutes to say goodbye to loved ones but persephone couldn't give two shits about her family as they never cared for her.

immediately heading to the train she walks inside and sees multiple blue velvet couches and a rectangle dinner table, deciding to pass time she looks around being nosy, as it was what she was best at.

about 6 minutes later everyone starts coming in including what she assumes are going to be her mentors and the escort who's name she learned was Anya

"Well hello, lovely's, please meet your mentors for your games, Mags flanagan and Finnick Odair"

persephone felt a switch flip in her, it was almost like a different person, the persona she had to put on to even attempt to make it past the bloodbath.

looking up from her empty plate she gives them both a small smile

"Please introduce yourselves guys" anya says smiling with a slight aggressive tone almost like they are embarrassing her when persephone never even met her let alone know her name until 2 minutes ago

"Christopher Monroe, Big fan of yours finnick" the boy spoke with a sickening tone of confidence

finnick gave him a awkward smile almost like he was embarrassed for him and he then looks to persephone

"Persephone Levito" she says with a shaky voice

"Yeah i know who you are, i would see you at the beach when i was younger" finnick says in the softest tone trying to comfort the clearly scared young girl but at the same time he feels as if there's something off about her

christopher looks over at them rolling his eyes in annoyance at the girl.

finnick and christopher make small talk while persephone puts an awkwardly small portion of food on her plate sampling each thing on the table and then sections them off into perfectly even sections

finnick can see what she's doing out of the corner of his eye and he furrows his brows taking a glance at the girl before cutting christopher off of his ramble that he was barley listening to

"Let's talk strength and weakness, chris would you like to go first?" finnick asked

smiling cockily he starts listing off his strengths while persephone struggles to not roll her eyes at the boy.

tucking her legs under her oversized white button up she listens to every word chris says despite hating his guts she had to know what she was going up against.

and him being the fucking dumbass he is he starts listing off every weakness he has but something that did make her start thinking was when he said that he had to get surgery on a tendon he had in his knee as he tore it when he was younger and immediately after he said that he said it was hard to use his dominate hand so he wanted to get better using his left because he broke a bone in his right and it was harder to use now

"what about you persephone?" finnick asked her

"yeah what about you" chris says smirking like he didn't just make the biggest mistake ever by him practically telling his whole fucking life story when all finnick asked for was strength and weaknesses

but who is she to talk, for all she knows chris could kill her the moment the game starts

"Um - i don't know, i guess i'm good with tying knots" she says with an embarrassed smile resting her chin on her knees forcing herself to not stab chris in the eye when she hears him scoff at her

"it's okay, that's what me and mags are here for, we are going to try our best to help you survive"

he says placing his hand on mags' shoulder

to be honest persephone forgot mags was even there with how quiet she was but she was cut off from her thoughts by the voice of anya

"I think it's best we all get some rest so that we are ready for tomorrows parade!" she says

persephone is the first to get up and leave the table.

walking to the room that anya had showed her earlier she looks in from the door way and then looks over her shoulder to see finnick looking at her, the look she gives him before waking into her room has him in deep thought, like she knew something he didn't. he's never been more confused by anyone in his whole life let alone and girl who was a year younger than him.

★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★

The day after the parade was the first day of training.

walking into the training room with a few of the other tributes by her side she looks around at all the the different stations.

deciding to walk over to the knife throwing station she already knows she's going to have to embarrass her self in order to not seem like a threat.

persephone does a bit of each station before looking at what the other tributes are doing, of course she sees chris with the careers at the archery station.

keeping an eye on each one to see what skills their best at.

when she was younger, her grandmother would train her every day until the day she died to make sure if she ever got reaped she would be prepared, she's learned her way around the different weapons.

Day two goes by smoothly besides the fact that the careers and their groupie which unfortunately was her district partner were making fun of her the entire time.

Waiting for her name to be called for individual sessions she starts thinking about stories her grandma would tell her before bed and the disappearance of the 10th hunger games victor

"Persephone Levito"

snapping out of her thoughts she walks into the room taking a look at the different supplies laid out, making her way to the spears she grabs three and stands a few feet away from the targets.

she lazily throws each of the spears cringing as she misses each each target, she finishes her session as soon as possible due to the unbearable embarrassment she was feeling despite the fact that she was doing it on purpose.

sitting in a large room with chris, finnick and mags in front of a large TV awaiting their scores.

Ceaser begins listing off the tributes and their scores and then gets to district 4 "District four! Christopher Monroe with a score of, 8!" finnick and mags both congratulate him as he cockily smirks

"Persephone Levito with a score of 3!" with a thin lipped smile she looks over at finnick who gives her a look of pity.

The last of the days have been a blur especially with the interviews.

her last day at the capital has been pretty shitty and even more with the fact that everyone is treating her like a toddler, she's had a few more conversations with finnick but just briefly, and mostly just him telling her how to survive out there.

standing in a small metal room with her stylist who she's grown quite fond of

"what can you tell me about the arena?"

"it seems like it's going to be a constant change, you may be looking at forest mountains based on the shoes, weather may go from cold to humid because you have removable layers."

60 seconds

"good luck persephone, i know what you're doing i strongly believe i'll see you after the games"

her stylist stella tells her in a shaky whisper

"i'll see you later" persephone smirks before walking into the clear tube

Being lifted up into the arena she can already feel the cold breeze, looking around she sees fog, thicker in certain areas thinner in others, not bothering to see the other tributes next to her, her eyes narrow to the cornucopia, eyes landing on a belt with multiple daggers and knives and a back pack.

She realized she probably made the biggest mistake of her life by not making any allies

fuck

ladies and gentlemen let the 66th hunger games begin.

as soon as she heard the gong go off she ran as fast as she possibly could, her legs practically going numb she runs into the cornucopia grabbing the belt and then going for the back pack but a force pulling her back  has her heart skip a beat, not even bothering to see who it is she grabs a small dagger stabbing it into their pulse point, blood spraying all over her, her eyes dart around landing on a career coming straight for her.

Grabbing a another knife she throws it landing directly in between his eyebrows knocking him down but she then feels her airways being cutoff by someone putting her in a head lock, kicking her legs up and pushing off from the metal wall they both fall down, having to think quickly she grabs a longer knife from her belt she stabs it in the tributes gut she drags it up all the way to just below the sternum of the girl who she recognized was from district two, hearing ber ear piercing screams felt like she was about to go deaf but they soon stopped once her eyes rolled back in her head.

Looking up persephone sees that everyone has left the cornucopia and she sees chris and the tributes from 1 and the boy from 2 running into the forest.

collecting her knives and grabbing anything else she finds to be helpful she makes her way towards the foggy woods opposite of the way the others went.

after what felt like a few hours of walking she comes across the end of a rocky hill which leads to a water stream. her blonde locks look like they have been dyed red and brown.

walking down the hill she goes straight for the water immediately dipping her hands in the wash off all the caked on blood and then collects some of the water in a water bottle she found in a back pack she stole from one of the tributes.

mentor viewing room

finnick has been in staring off into space ever since the bloodbath ended

the once scared blonde that barley spoke two words was now covered head to toe in blood that wasn't hers

he didn't know how to feel, proud? scared?

he settled on proud for now and just decided to see where it would go.

arena

a  day has passed and so have four more people at the hands of persephone, she's washed her skin off a few times in the river but some sections were still stained red.

the day was pretty boring as nothing had happened but she was woken up in the middle of the night to harsh whispers and leaves rustling.

"she's asleep we can just kill her now, it's easier if she doesn't put up a fight" she heard a feminine voice say

"okay fine, do you wanna do the honors?" she heard a male voice say, she can practically hear the smirk in it

tightening her grip on her knife she shoots up immediately stabbing the male in the esophagus hearing the canon go off she then hears his partner scream, persephone slaps her hand over the girls mouth and then proceeds to stab her straight it the tit where she knows it hurts and then continues once she's on the floor. when she's done the girl at least has 7 stab wounds on her.

gathering her stuff the starts making her way in the opposite direction as the scream most likely drew attention.

Another day goes by and many more dead, sometimes done by others, most of the time done by persephone.

With almost everyone dead all that's left is chris and the one of the careers.

after waking around for a few hours she hears two people arguing. Climbing up the nearest tree as fast as she can she gets as high as possible and looks down at the last two standing. Fucking dumbasses, they aren't even aware of their surroundings.

Deciding to have some fun messing with them as it was once again night time and they couldn't see her. Throwing a stick on the floor next to them and them being the dogs they are they run straight to it giving her enough time to climb down the tree as quietly as possible.

"HELLO? YOU CAN COME OUT WE DONT BITE" chris yelled as they both laughed and for once in the games the whole arena got quiet, no birds, no crickets, just the sound of heavy breathing

"psst!" the girl from one turned around frantically ready to fight but that was soon ended as a gut wrenching scream was let out.

persephone stabbed her repeatedly in her torso, the clouds now moving past the moon letting the moonlight shine through which let her see a lot better.

Chris jumped on top of persephone pulling her off of the girl she just murdered, putting his hands on her neck once again having her airways cut off for like the fifth time, having to react quick she knees him as hard as she can between his legs which knocks him off of her.

she swears they have been having a wrestling match for what feels like forever. frantically looking around

to see if she can find anything that would kill him her eyes land on a sword that the other girl had persephone tried to reach for it but unfortunately for her chris also had his eyes on it and immediately pulled her back which led to her literally face planting on the dirt, he begins choking her again

"jesus- fuck why does everyone go for the- neck" she says in between wheezes. she remembers when he was talking to finnick how he said his weak spot was his right arm, despite the fact that both her arms had multiple gashes and stab wounds she builds up as much strength and punched her hand into his elbow dislocating it which makes the most disgusting pop noise that makes her gag

"you dumb fucking bitch, you broke my arm!" chris says practically spitting him her face. rolling him off of her she grabs knife that was still lodged in the girl from 1 she stabs him on his side but he didn't go down without a fight, he threw persephone off him him and stood up, now fighting standing up she continues to stab him wherever she can get her knife through but he still has a tight grip on her, at this point she doesn't even know how he's alive, there's blood pouring out of his mouth and she's sure she hit every major organ

"why.... won't- you.. die. FUCKING HELL ARE YOU IMMORTAL OR SOMETHING?" she says between gasps with one swift slit to the neck the cannon finally goes off.

there's a moment of silence before the announcer comes on

"ladies in gentlemen, your victor from the sixty sixth hunger games! persephone levito!!!" she hears the voice say

"FUCK" where the last words she remembers saying before passing out.. face planting the dirt.. again.

hi queens so this was like the introduction to my new child persephone and how she became a victor, there wasn't much finnick but there is definitely going to be a lot more in the next chapter, the next one is going to be briefly of the 74th games but just for her mentoring purposes but it's mainly just gonna be other stuff, anyway!

WC: 3168

© mystargirl-interlude

[whorergal]

LOVERS THAT WENT WRONG (PART TWO)

summary: you saw your dead boyfriend's body, felt his dead weight crush you as you stared into his lifeless eyes. but maybe he's the one under the mask

warnings: description of murder, blood & gore. language (cussing). follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiii plz don't hate me for the ending hehe

>> PART ONE <<

——————————————————————————————

You were fueled by adrenaline as you wandered the empty theater to secure the perimeter. Sam had offered to take the job alongside Kirby but you wanted to be alone. Practically half the day you spent all by yourself but right now, you wanted to be unbothered more than ever. So, doing as Kirby instructed, you cleared the right half of the theater as she would do the left. And you weren't exactly alone.

Chad and Tara were in the room you had just left from and the further you went, you could still hear them chatting. That brought you enough relief, gripping the knife you held very tightly you could see your knuckles turning white.

You flinched at the sound of your phone buzzing, causing you to sigh. You took it out from your back pocket and saw it was a call from Mindy.

"Hey, are you alright?" you asked once answering.

"I don't know, Y/N, you tell me." It wasn't Mindy.

You froze in place. "Who the hell is this? Where is she?"

"You are in no place to be asking questions," the distorted voice responded. "Don't you think you should be worrying about your little friends? You left them all alone."

"No," you whispered to yourself. The echo of Tara's screams filled the air and you of worry. "Tara!"

"Not so fast, Y/N," they said on the line.

You furrowed your brows, hanging up until you saw Ghostface pop out from the shadows. You looked around quick, trying to find something to defend yourself but came up with nothing so you turned around and ran.

They were quick and it was quite scary. You thought over the idea of tossing your knife at them but you didn't want to risk losing the only weapon at your availability for a rash decision so you just quickened your pace. The narrow hallway didn't do much in easing you as you could hear their footsteps banging against the floorboard. When you reached the door, you entered the stage behind the curtains and found a board of some kind. You struggled to pick it up—it was kind of heavy—but pulled through.

Their knife rose in the air, reading to attack but you shoved it at them, causing their breath to hitch at the impact. They fell roughly against the wall behind them, smacking their head.

"It's locked!" You heard Sam yell.

"Where the hell is Y/N?!" Tara worried aloud.

You ran forward, pushing the curtains out of your way and jumped out, startling them. "Here."

"Oh, thank god," Sam breathed out, gesturing you to come toward them.

You were greeted by their quick hug, very reassured knowing you were safe as Chad looked around for an exit. Tara mentioned something about the roof but she was interrupted when the Ghostface that had been following you jumped out from behind the curtain.

Somehow, Chad managed to fight them, yelling something about beheadings as you grabbed a display box and used it to smack them to the floor.

"Come on!" you urged them, grabbing Tara's hand as you guided them up to the stage and through the curtain.

"This way!" Tara directed, running into a doorway, right back to where you just came from.

You all slammed into the wall, not particularly aware of the narrow hallway (well, you were but the adrenaline in you didn't help you realize your surroundings). You glanced behind your shoulder, assuring Chad was following after you three but furrowed your brows when you saw him carrying something.

"Why the hell do you have a camera?!" you yelled out in confusion, losing breath.

"Because of…this!" He tossed it carelessly into Ghostface, causing them to fall to the floor with a groan.

You all made it back inside the room you had just came from and while everyone made it through, you turned around and dropped the popcorn machine, shattering it on Ghostface. Chad pushed you behind him, ready to take the fight for you three while you prepared to help.

He managed to get the upper hand until he didn't, causing you to intervene, using your knife to stab the Ghostface straight through the back. You pulled it out and shoved them away from Chad, hearing a familiar grunt.

No, it couldn't be. Ethan was dead.

Out of nowhere, you felt arms grab you from behind, attempting to choke you. You lost grip of your knife as you tried to fight this one off of you. Chad thankfully came to your rescue, shoving them away and causing you to fall forward, coming face-to-face with the one you just stabbed.

They darted straight for your knife as you did the same but they beat you to it. They kicked it away from you, hearing it slide somewhere in the distance as they stomped on your hand. You swore you heard your bones crack.

Sam smacked them across the head with a large object, pulling you away and throwing you to Tara, who cradled your hand to inspect it. You tried your best to help but seeing as Sam and Chad didn't look like they needed it, you tried to get Tara to leave, but—of course—she couldn't.

Unlucky for you both, you had to watch as they slammed Sam against the counter, pushing her away from Chad as the shorter one planted a stab straight into his stomach. The taller one came to help, keeping Chad upright as they continued to land blows straight into his abdomen.

"No!" Tara screamed, trying to run after him but Sam had stopped her, gaining enough power to push you two back from intervening.

"We have to go!" Sam yelled.

You let out a gasp, seeing the words run fall weakly out of Chad's lips. Then, their knifes were torn out of his skin and they let him fall lifelessly onto his back.

With their knifes coated in blood, their heads snapped at you three to wipe it off with their hands in sync.

"Go!" you hollered, helping Sam get Tara off the floor and toward the exit.

Ultimately, while they made it out, you were gripped by your leg and dragged. You let out a scream that caught their attention but the Ghostface that wasn't terrorizing you stepped forward with their knife out, threatening them forward. You could hear Tara screaming your name but as the door closed, she was cancelled out by the sudden gunshots sounding the area.

The Ghostface stared down at you, holding you in place by the neck. You could feel yourself losing breath and you tried to claw at their gloves. Fortunately, they let go but pulled you up by your hair.

You winced, trying to break free from their grip but nothing sufficed. You were worried about what they were going to do next but when you saw them kick the door open, pulling you with them out to the scene of Detective Bailey standing right beside one of the Ghostfaces, you looked around in shock. What the hell was going on?

Tara lunged forward. "Let her go!"

"You want her?" Bailey questioned. He looked at the Ghostface that had you in their grip, nodding his head which gave them the signal to throw you at them. "Have her."

"Oh my god," Tara breathed out, catching you. She hugged you very briefly before pushing you behind her and Sam.

"What the fuck is going on?" You couldn't help but wonder aloud.

"What does it look like?" Bailey laughed. He turned to his accomplices with a smirk. "Frankly, I expected more from the three of you after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara repeated in confusion.

Bailey turned his head to the right, gesturing for the shorter Ghostface of the two to reveal themselves. They took a second before reaching behind their costume to unlatch the mask, pulling it off to reveal the familiar red hair that belonged to Quinn Bailey.

She looked at you three with a smirk. "Hey, roomies."

"Quinn," you mumbled. Then, you fell into realization as the night Ethan died sparked your memory. "You killed him. You were the one who killed Ethan and Anika."

She just laughed.

"How could you?" Sam asked in disgust.

"How did you?" Tara questioned as well.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that hard." Quinn shrugged. "Mindy was right. Having my dad as a cop was a good coverup and a very good way to meddle into your lives without being suspicious. I mean, an anonymous ad? What kind of weak bullshit is that?"

"What?" you whispered to yourself, feeling very confused.

"Wait. If it's you two then that just leaves…" Sam trailed her words as she turned to look at the second Ghostface. Because of the height, her only guess was their neighbor and her secret boyfriend. "Danny?"

They took their time, as if wanting you three to anticipate their reveal. Then, the mask was ripped from their face as they greeted you with a proud smile.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, tears building in your eyes as he stared straight at you. "E-Ethan?"

"Surprise, Y/N/N," he said softly, as if mocking you. "I bet you didn't see that one coming."

Tara furrowed her brows in anger. "Yeah, because you died!"

"Do I look dead?" He gave her back the same amount of attitude, dropping his smile as he glared at her. "I had to get off the suspect list to do all the dirty work. Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, help Quinn kill Chad because she couldn't listen to fucking directions."

"Fuck off," Quinn snapped. "You were the one too afraid to face your girlfriend. I had to do something."

You, the girlfriend in question, still stood in absolute shock, not being able to take your eyes off of him. He could feel you staring because he glanced back at you, his lips forming into a smile. A smile you used to love but could now only see with evil intent behind the action.

"That's not possible…" you muttered, not sure if anyone could even hear you but it seemed your surprise was their entrainment. Like as if they all waited for this moment just to laugh in your face. "I saw your dead body."

"I made sure I was first on the scene to switch his body out with a fresh one," Bailey explained, reaching to squeeze his shoulder. "The least I could do for my son."

"Son?" Tara asked. She was just as lost as you.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Ethan voiced in realization. "My name isn't Ethan Landry."

"You guys did this as a fucking family?!" Your sadness was now turning into betrayal which turned into rage. You were pissed, more so at yourself.

"You should know better than anyone," Quinn replied, tossing her gloves at you three which made you flinch. "Isn't that right, Sam?"

"They're still not getting it," Ethan laughed. He jumped up from his spot, walking around the memorabilia.

You kept your eye on him. In return, he did the same. His eyes stared straight into your soul as you followed his figure to where he now trapped you three. His knife was pointed at you as you glared at him. Quinn appeared right by his side a moment later, her eyes trained on Sam and Tara.

Bailey went on some stupid tangent about Sam and her father which seemed to be a repetition to what Richie and Amber bitched about last year as well.

It then revealed that they were Richie's family, which made sense to you. You could see the resemblance in their faces the more you stared at them. It just pissed you off at how gullible you let yourself be around Ethan. You swore you wouldn't let anyone in after the Woodsboro attack and defended him as the one exception because of how sweet and kind he was but you were wrong.

"How fucking stupid," you mumbled but it seemed to catch their attention.

"Say it louder, huh. Or are you too afraid that your sweet little boyfriend's gonna kill you?" Quinn teased.

"I said you're fucking stupid," you repeated loudly. Your anger boomed off the walls. "How pathetic could you three possibly be to avenge an assholes death? I mean, seriously?"

"Richie was a good kid," Bailey defended.

"Richie was a dumb fuck who made my best friend do all the killings because of how weak he was," you snapped.

"Take that back, you bitch!" Quinn hollered, directing her knife's aim at you now.

"Fuck you!" you yelled back. "You're just like him! Thinking you'll get away with this when you'll end up dying just like he did." Your voice lowered an octave. "If only you could've heard his whiny ass crying for help before Sam slit his throat."

"Shut up—" Quinn started to race toward you but Tara stepped in, smacking her in the face with a brick.

Gunshots flooded the place and you were then pushed to the floor. Tara grabbed you quickly, pulling you along with her and Sam but you shook your head.

You watched Ethan tackle Kirby to the floor and you couldn't let her get injured. Not only that, you couldn't let Ethan get away with this. You ran away from them, Tara calling your name but she was rushed forward by Sam, who knew you'd be alright. She could see the fire burning in your eyes and it reminded her of herself back in Woodsboro.

She knew you'd do more damage than you looked like you could handle.

You grabbed the brick that Tara used against Quinn and attacked him with it. The brick collided with the side of his head, making him fall to the side with a groan.

"This is going to hurt but I kind of need this," you warned Kirby, reaching for the knife and pulling it out of her stomach which made you squirm in discomfort.

"You sure you got this?" Kirby asked, heaving for breath. It wasn’t that she was doubting your ability to defend yourself but she know what he meant to you. So, really she was asking, 'Are you sure you can kill the boy that you love?'

You nodded. "I got it."

"Fuck him up," she encouraged, smirking.

Ethan was still gaining his composure on the ground so you took this chance to kick him straight in the face, sending him flying against the seats.

You could tell he wasn’t expecting you to be the cause of this because when his eyes connected with yours, his widened in surprise. It caused your stomach to churn.

"I didn't think you had it in you," he commented.

You shook your head in disappointment. "How could you? I trusted you!"

"That was the whole point, Y/N!" Ethan chuckled. "It was easy to trick you. I was going to go for Tara but I knew you were easier to get around. You didn't really think that I actually loved you, did you?"

"Fuck you!" you screamed, running at him with your knife but before you could get a good hit, he caught your wrist.

You both fought for the knife but he manage to overpower you, shoving you on your back. Within seconds, he tackled you, stabbing you right through the stomach. You let out a scream in pain, trying to push him away.

He pulled it out and rose his hand, ready to finish the job but he paused. He stared down at you in confusion, it looked like but you couldn't tell. You did realize why.

You stared up at him in shock. "What are you waiting for, huh? This is what you've been working for, right?" you egged him on, seeing the glint of weakness behind his eyes. "Do it, Ethan! Kill me!"

His hands got shaky and then that's when you felt yourself get nauseous. There he was. The Ethan you remembered.

You looked at him as his eyes stared at you softly. You could see yourself through them. You could hear the memories you two shared throughout the past few months. Even though he held a knife in his hand, it felt the same again. Like as if you woke up from a nightmare and he had been there the whole time.

The knife shook in his grip until he dropped his arms in defeat. You watched in surprise.

But you knew what you had to do.

You leaned forward, head butting him. He groaned, falling backwards as you crawled for the knife. Ethan didn't try to fight against you as you straddled him. He just stared up at you, knowing this was how it was supposed to end.

He knew you would be the one behind the knife because he would never be able to bring himself to be. He knew you would only kill him to protect you and your friends

And that's what you did.

[sswiftiestars]

seductions—chapter one

gf! sam monroe x fem!reader

tws/cws: mentions of murder, angsty, mentions of ED and self harm, vomiting, manipulation, swearing, y/n isnt used i think, petnames, kinda sexual at the end, non-con kinda but not really

summary: When you find out one of your best friends was murdered by the neighborhood serial killer, you head to school sad. Struggling to stay sane, you end up experiencing something unexpected.

You sob into your pillow as you read the local newspaper, reading; WEDNESDAY 5/07/03: WESTON HIGH SCHOOL TEEN NAMED MARY LOUISE FOUND DEAD AT 17, KILLED IN HER OWN HOME AFTER A MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL.

it showed a picture of her, making everything 10x worse. she was your best friend, and there she was, dead and buried. you continued to sob into your pillow when you realized you had to get to school. how would you be able to survive after this? you sniffle a few times and put on a pink cardigan with a mini skirt, thigh highs and some cute sneakers. Sadly, you put on your backpack (which was baby pink, obviously) and head out the door without eating.

once you arrive to school, you don’t put any effort into talking to anyone, and you make your way to the auditorium, where a assembly will be taken place on..recent events. you sit down at a empty area when after a few minutes, someone taps your shoulder from the seat behind you. you turn around and see Sam, one of your closest friends.

“are you okay, angel? you ignored me when i tried to come up to you earlier.” he says sadly, giving you a soft pout of disappointment. You shrug, visibly less energetic then usual. “m’ fine, sam. it’s just..” you start, tears threatening to leave your eyes, “you know.” you say, looking away from him. sam sighs and climbs over and sits in the seat next to you, ignoring that he just accidentally kicked someone in the leg. “listen, angel.” sam coos, grasping his hand at your chin and turns your head to look at him directly, “I’m sorry about what happened to mary, but..eveything happens for a reason, right?” he says, trying to comfort you, but ending up sounding slightly sadistic.

you squint your eyes at him, about to speak when the principal talks into the microphone at the auditorium stage, peaking you and sam’s attention. “Good morning, everyone.” he starts, his voice echoing through the room. “i would just like to take a moment and..talk about recent events.” he says. you already know he’ll be talking about mary, corey, and some of the other students who have been lost. you don’t want to hear about it anymore, it just adds on to the indescribable feeling in your chest.

Sam somehow senses you discomfort, and reaches over to hold your hand, carressing your palm with his thumb. you blush slightly. “Mary was a great friend to all of you.” the principal says solemnly, “she will not be forgotten.” behind you, you hear two of the jocks, logan and aiden, snickering. you turn your head around and glare at them, and sam does the same. something about sam’s stare at them was..unsettling. the two jocks immediately stopped laughing, sam’s unsettling stare scaring the shit out of them, to say the least.

sam will definitely be remembering them, for later.

The principal continues talking about mary, and then sam leans over to whisper to you, “i’ll be right back, sunshine. stay here f’ me.” you nod in response and watch as he walks out of the auditorium. assuming he’s just going to the bathroom, you continue listening to the principals speech about mary and corey. the more he talks, the more sad you get, and the more angry you get at the person who killed them so brutally. After a while, you notice that sam is still gone. a pit in your stomach starts to form, as you start to get extremely anxious. Carefully, you stand up and walk out of the auditorium. you make your way to the girls bathroom. You walk into a stall and lock the door. Suddenly, a wave of nausea waves over you. “when was the last time i ate?” you think to yourself. your thoughts are cut short when you suddenly bend over the toilet and vomit, you really should’ve ate breakfast. after a couple minutes of..intense sickness, you flush the toilet and walk out of the stall. You try not to cry as you walk to the sink, and wash your hands and wash your face, hoping to make yourself feel better. as you raise your head, you see something in the mirror behind you.

a hooded figure in a mask.

you ignore it at first, thinking you might be hallucinating from all of the pills you’ve been taking. But that’s when you hear a metal sound from behind you. You turn around instantly, water still dripping from your face and hands.

He…or she..or they, wave at you, knife in hand. you instinctively run towards the door and try to open it.

of course it’s fucking closed.

“fuck.” you say under your breath and turn back around, and the masked figure..doesn’t run towards you? he walks closer to you as you stand there, paralyzed in fear. before you know it, he pins you against the cold wall of the bathroom, and whispers in your ear, “stay quiet or you’ll end up like your good friend mary.” you gasp, trying to recognize his voice, but his voice is awfully distorted. fuck, is he using a voice changer?

you nod. he runs his gloved hand down your body until he reaches underneath your skirt. You feel your underwear dampen, and you curse yourself silently for that. the masked stranger cups your core through your panties, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. He pulls his hand away, a smirk underneath his mask that you wish you could see are glad you can’t see. he walks out of the bathroom after that, leaving you confused and still aroused.

did the neighborhood serial killer just touch my pussy?you think to yourself and let out a slight cackle, even though it’s not that funny. unable to leave your position, you stand there, wondering what to do. you’re definitely traumatized for sure—but at least it felt good. after what seemed like forever, you walk back to the auditorium and sit down next to sam and let out a sigh. at least he’s okay.

“hey, what took you so long?” sam smirks and nudges you playfully. you shrug, “i felt sick, it’s nothing really.”

“Good thing you’re still alive, i was worried that someone snuck in there.” he jokes, although his tone is a bit sinister. you laugh it off nervously, and listen to the principals incredibly long speech for the next hour.

in that hour, you find yourself thinking about what happened, something inside of you wishing the masked stranger did more with you. You brushed off the thought, sighing to yourself.

maybe someday you’ll lose your virginity, and today was almost the day.

tags: @g4sstationdr-gs , ask if u wanna b added!

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: Well, welcome to what's known as Murderstuck! Enjoy your stay, and complimentary Faygo of 12 delicious flavors can be found in the fridge! Anonymous asked: Welcome to the murderstuck arc! @elkian asked: Allow me to be probably the 300th person to welcome you to Murderstuck lol… it's so interesting seeing your theories, because you get REALLY CLOSE sometimes, it's just that these kids don't do things logically [...] Your prediction for 'blood' re: the Trolls was spot-on. Never seen Murderstuck predicted that early. @sanctferum asked: "What a flash, is all I’ll say. This feels like the beginning of a new chapter, with Aradia revived as one of the most powerful Players, and Vriska choosing to do something she’s probably been contemplating for months." Oh, it's a new chapter alright. A chapter called Horrorstuck (or Murderstuck depending on who you ask). Haaaaaaave fun!! [...] @mimescantscream asked: I'm so giddy for you to enter this section of Homestuck. It is so good. :o] Anonymous asked: welcome to karkat vantas's terrible horrible no good very bad day Anonymous asked: this part of the comic is commonly referred to as murderstuck. what do you think of these developments from a narrative point? they've always kind of felt like a wild swing to me. not per se unexpected, but a bit odd

Time for Homestuck to become a slasher movie!

These murders certainly didn't feel out of left field. The comic has been stretching the tension out for a while now, as the clock runs down on a meteor full of violent, stressed-out aliens. I didn't predict an Eridan double homicide, but I sure expected something to pop off.

Murderstuck also serves an important narrative purpose. The trolls have been directionless for a while now, with only Karkat and Kanaya really committed to helping the kids. Vriska, Terezi and Tavros have at least been doing something, but Equius, Nepeta, Feferi, Eridan, Sollux and Gamzee have barely existed for the entire sub-Act.

Homestuck has a lot of characters, and some were bound to end up on the bench. A crisis like this will get everyone off the bench and back into the fray. This, in turn, makes the Veil more dynamic, and sets the stage for interesting character moments - moments which won't happen if everyone is just napping in their rooms, or whatever the B-team have been doing post-Hivebent. Fuck that - it's time for shit to go down.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

1. The Beginning

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Series Masterlist

Strangers, friends, lovers. Isn’t that the natural flow of things? The instinctive humane magnet that pulls two souls together; wasn’t that just the way of life? I often wonder if I had never laid eyes on him would the word still be intact? If I had never said yes to the role, if I had just moved on to another project, maybe my world would still be turning. I could still have a real body, real blood flowing through my veins. I almost remember what it felt like to bleed. Is it strange that I missed it? The pain? In this sorry excuse of a world, I guess anything can be normalized. Sadly I can’t recall what happiness used to feel like. I assume amazing and warm.

I stare into the cracked mirror, dusting the powder over my face, touching up the tattooed perfection. "Ready in 5," Conor speaks from the curtain. "Thank you," I take one last look into the remains of myself. I press my hand to my chest, feeling the light thump of my heart, one of the remaining parts of who this woman used to be. I stand, the black shawl dragging the ground behind me, the edges ripped and frayed. I pass Conor, grabbing the glass of water and drowning it down. "You've got a big crowd tonight." I smile at him, the facade growing. "Why wouldn't I? Even in this wasteland, I'm still the best singer the world has ever seen." A light centers onto the stage in the back of the venue. I step out beginning the set.

~

217 YEARS AGO

The crowd applause rings through the venue. I raise both my arms taking a bow, soaking in their appreciation. I blow a kiss before sauntering off the stage and behind the curtains where my assistant waits with refreshments. "Honey, I've got someone I want you to meet.” I roll my eyes knowing exactly what that means. “I’m not taking the time today, Louis.” He proceeds to grab my elbow and guide me to the dressing room. “Yes, you are. Especially when it’s a director.” My ears peek at the mention. “A director?”

The door swings open and I see a man sitting on my sofa. Expensive suit and tie, most definitely involved in the business. “There she is!” He extends his arm, grasping my hands, “Our Nation's sweetheart. Boy, my wife is going to be upset at this one.” I smile at him. “Well, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you enjoyed the show.” He beams at me, “the show? Oh, I could’ve watched for hours.”

Louis steps in, tossing my robe over my shoulders and taking my jewelry off my limbs. “Mr. Vander is here to discuss an opportunity for you.”

Mr. Vander nods with excitement brewing. “I certainly am! I’m casting a new film, Under the Covers, and I want you to be our leading lady.” I open my mouth, eyes widening “You know I’m a singer, not an actress, right?” Mr. Vander waves his hands in protest. “That's just the thing! I've had some written songs for the film. It's not a full-blown musical, but I'm widening my wings. I guarantee you will do just peachy!” I twiddle my fingers. “I don’t know, Mr. Vander. The big screen? Me? I just can’t see it.” Mr. Vander slides a script across the table. “Take a look, give me a call. No pressure, Sweetie.” He leaves without another word.

As soon as the door closes Louis is flipping through the pages. “You’re doing this.” I sigh at his words. “Can’t I take a break? It’s been show after show, and now I finally have some time off and you want me to go out to California and embarrass myself? I’ve got a lucky set of cords, that’s all.” I begin to wipe away my makeup.

Louis chuckles as he reads a line from the page. “You would kill this role. She’s a sassy badass. Look! Just read this line right here.” He pushes the paper into my face as I sit. I look over the words with a light giggle before turning to gaze at myself in the mirror. Louis begins, “I made a bad call.” I roll my eyes, “you think? Just sit there and let me do all the work. You men are sure good at causing trouble, but you ain’t too good at getting out of it. That’s where you need me.” I bite my lip as I finish reading. It would be fun to star in a film. Different and unique. I would still be able to sing. Not many singers get the chance to branch out like this. I wave my hand with confidence. “Oh, what the hell? Why not. I’m in.” Louis jumps up in celebration.

The following week I was on the set of a real movie. Trailers lined the lot, makeup bags and racks of clothes in every corner, and people buzzed around in their madness. Louis stands behind me, hands on my shoulders, “You got this.”

“Excuse me? Hi there, I'm Mr. Vander's executive assistant.” A woman asked directly. “If you would follow me. Mr. Vander wanted to make sure of your arrival.” Louis hauls my bag behind him as we follow the woman through the busy lot.

“Mr. Vander? Your star is here.” He flies out of his seat and grabs my hands, kissing my knuckles. “Ah! My leading lady! My Songbird! I am so happy you decided to say yes. We are going to make this such a special film. Now if you please follow me, I’d like to introduce you to your costar.” Walking a short way, we stop at a scenic backdrop where a man is walking down the street. He dips down an alleyway silently. He tips his hat slightly, before walking towards a building in question. Loud bells ring out, and the buzz of people continues, as their tasks have switched.

“Cooper,” Vander waves the man over once the scene has been cut. “This is our leading lady. She’ll be portraying Mary.” The man takes the hat off and shakes my hand lightly. “Cooper Howard. It’s a great privilege. My daughter adores your records.” His cheery smile and soft eyes struck me. His skin is smooth and warm to the touch. I had to kick myself just to speak. “Hello, Mr. Howard.” "Oh please, call me, Cooper."

And from then on, from that one moment, I was in trouble.

We would rehearse together, have our lunch together, and have dinner together when the day rolled around too late to go home. It became a natural routine. He made me feel special. By 4 weeks in I was in deep shit. I couldn't wait to see him. He started to invade my mind at all hours of the night. I started to question if he would like certain outfits as I put them on each day.

He told me about his life. He shared little details that seemed intimate. I sit in my makeup chair as he enters my trailer with a coffee. "Your ears must've been burning. I was just going to ask for one." I tease as I take the cup into my hands. He smiles that dumb smile, and I can feel myself sink into the chair. My makeup artist twists a tube of liner and groans upon seeing the state of said liner. "Ugh, I need to get another lip liner, don't move." I sit very still with wide eyes making her laugh. "I didn't mean it literally!" I smile as the door shuts. It doesn't take Cooper but a second to be standing over my chair, hands on my shoulders, exchanging glances in the mirror. It was now 9 weeks into filming, and I was fucked. I was completely infatuated with this man.

I feel the exposed skin on my shoulders burns as his fingertips brush over it. I feel my head lean into his touch ever so slightly. "You look beautiful." Why the fuck was he doing this to me? It's on purpose, it has to be. He certainly didn't act like this to any other female on set. Was it just a method to make sure we had that connection when we filmed?

Cooper's light squeeze on my shoulders brings me back. I smile at him in the mirror. He tilts his head, "You alright, darlin'?" I nod silently. Cooper leans down, his lips trailing up my ear as he whispers, “You nervous about the kiss?” I stare into his eyes, mine widening. “I thought we weren’t filming that scene until a few weeks.” His smirk only grows. I unknowingly provided my answer. I knew I was going to say it if he didn’t leave my trailer. I couldn't help myself. His fingers burned my skin. My lungs filled but wouldn't release. I was surely going to burst. "I-" "FOUND IT!" My makeup artist walks in victorious. "Cooper, they need you on set." I avert my eyes from him, trying to control my breathing. He nods and releases my shoulders before exiting. I felt my body exhale the large sigh I was holding in. I shake my head lightly trying to push my inner thoughts away.

~

The detective watches the passing car. He begins to trail the group on foot as they turn down a street. "Well, if it isn't my big tipper." He looks up to see Mary Jones, the singer from the club the men in question were just seen leaving. She makes her way across the street, meeting him under the lamplight. He was losing his chance, but he would get shot if he was promised she'd be the last thing his eyes set upon. "Just leaving, Mary?" He narrows his eyes at her. She knew something. She was the boss's favorite girl after all. The detective points down the road. "Those men, did they mention anything interesting?" She narrows her eyes, "Are you asking me to go against my boss? Where else would I sing?" Her sly smile cuts him deep. He wishes no harm to come to his beauty. He could let them get a head start. He lays his hand on her waist, pulling her in, their faces inches apart. "Now, you listen, doll. Those men, they could hurt you." Mary runs a gloved finger over his bottom lip. "And I can handle myself, sugar." She stares at his lips, her tongue darting to wet her own. “But if you’re so concerned, why don’t you walk me home? Make sure I get there safe and sound.” They move swiftly down the streets sharing cigarettes and longing gazes.

He leans on her door, drinking her in. “Don’t go to the club tomorrow.” He says in a whisper. She picked his chin up, “You understand I have to. But you can come visit and return this for me.” She leans up pressing her body against him, attaching their lips in harmony. His hands moved to grip her waist, pulling a small moan from her mouth.

“CUT!”

I blink quickly, suddenly becoming very aware of my closeness to Cooper. Hell, I just kissed the man. Well, Mary technically kissed the detective. I beg my bones to stay professional, but the heat growing in my core causes me to shutter.

"Beautiful! Just stunning. I could swear you LOVE this man! Singer my ass, you picked the wrong path Sweets." Mr. Vander cries as he takes off the headset. He spins me around dramatically. "My little songbird!"

"Whoa, now, bud. Don't go breaking her," Cooper's voice peels out in a firm tone. Mr. Vander sets me down, holding me at arm's length. "Now, this Friday we will be filming your solo. So, drink some tea or whatever the fuck you do." I laugh trying to sway back and forth to gather friction between my legs. I can feel his body heat next to me. He lays an arm on the small of my back, drawing circles. I jump lightly at his trailing fingers. I need to get away from him before my internal flames ignite this entire lot.

"Cooper, I need you to rehearse as much as you can. Love you, buddy, but you have two left feet and your chops are going to need some tuning. So, with that being said, please spend every waking moment together." Fucking great. Vander walks away but turns back quickly. "And Cooper, I want you both in the dance studio tomorrow morning. Jessica wants to rework the choreography."

I am so fucked. I can barely stand close to this man now without wanting to pounce on him. I take the larger shawl off my shoulders and toss it on the chair. I begin to walk away to my trailer, but Cooper catches my elbow. "Hey." I smile lightly, I take a second glance at his lips, missing the warmth. I register his lips moving, sound coming from his mouth, but I can't hear a word he says. I grab the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips down to meet mine in a rushed kiss.

The echo of my name and his fingers snap in front of my face. I shake my head, running away from the thoughts. "Yeah?" I stare anywhere but his eyes, I stare at his hair, his eyebrows, lips... fuck, I'm looking at his lips again. I turn away from him and make my way to the trailer door. "I'm sorry, Cooper. I am just so tired." I open the door, but his hand pushes it shut before I can escape. He leans down with furrowed brows. "You seem frazzled." He runs a single digit up my arm causing goosebumps to run along my skin. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the shutter inside. I shake my head, "No, I just didn't sleep well, and today ran long. Just tired."

He hums softly. His finger traced the strap of my dress. “You look so beautiful.” I shutter at his touch, and he knows it.

He opens the trailer door for me, "Then you better get some rest. I'll have you worn out tomorrow." WHAT? He must be fucking with me.

I feel the smirk creep on my lips. Unable to hold it in, I allow myself to surrender just a little. I reach out, straightening his shirt collar, and adding a subtle tug. "I think you'll be surprised how tired I can make you." I watch as his eyes search mine. Seeming to dig into my soul. Finding me and my true desires. He leans down ever so slightly, like a magnet forcing us together. Inches between us, so so close, but I pat his chest with a smirk. I watch as Cooper opens his eyes with stardust lining his lashes. I whisper to him, "Goodnight, Cooper." And I close the trailer door. Just an inch before it shut, Cooper caught it with his hand.

He peals the door open, stepping inside, making me back away into the small counter. He stares into my soul, communicating silently. He dips down quickly capturing my lips. His hands guided me to the small couch. Clothes were torn, and only the essential items were removed for our intimate skin to brush against each other. Cooper rushed to tear my panties away, and I was right behind him, pulling his rock-solid cock from his pants.

He fucks my body deep into the couch, the repeated grinding against my clit causing sparks to ignite. I clasp at the wide planes of his back, my fingernails skidding down the fabric of his dress shirt, threatening to rip the material. "Cooper, fuck!" I moan out as I watch where our bodies meet. Cooper took my wrist, pinning my arms above my head, sinking into me deeper. He watches me with knitted brows, completely lost in the actions. He dives down to my neck, teeth grazing a spot on my neck that stimulates the blissful warmth.

It's rolling through me, I can feel the tightness building in my core, the cord tightening. I toss my head back, closing my eyes. He pushes deeper. The trailer gives a slight rock, as our moans fill the vicinity. If anyone was near there would be no hiding our actions.

"Oh my God, I'm coming." I pant, the coil popping and my release begins flowing. I arch up into his chest. Cooper pulls out, finishing on the crumpled costume. I breathe deeply for what feels like hours. I open my eyes to see Cooper smirking above me, soft kisses peppering my cheeks as his hands glide down my arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above my head. Unable to move I just stare at him as I catch my breath.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, readjusting himself before sitting by my feet. A smirk builds its way to his mouth. He runs a thumb over my legs.

I stay silent. I feel like I should pinch myself. I could swear I was dreaming if it wasn't for his fingertips trailing up my leg.

Oh, fuck, this was a mistake. This is so wrong. Maybe this was just a moment of weakness. He has a wonderful family...

He calls my name softly, continuing his soft touches. "You're thinking too loud, darlin'." I sit up, jitters still running through my body. "How could I not? That was-" "Amazing." He leans in catching my lips again, softly this time around. He pulls away, just enough to whisper. "Let me walk you to your car." I nod wordlessly, quickly changing into my regular clothing. Just as we are about to walk out the door, I tug his arm. "Wait." I press my lips down on his, meeting perfectly.

He walks me to the car, only passing a few stragglers, but paid them no mind, his hand still glued to my waist. He opens the door to my car, allowing me to get seated. He leans down with a smile, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, beautiful."

As I drive away down the road, my smile slowly fades. "Oh, my god." I just slept with someone's husband, and I loved it! I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. I let myself fall limply against the headrest. I curse his name lowly as I fall into the shame of the actions I am committing behind closed doors.

~

Her car door shuts, and I am left staring at her vehicle slowly disappearing. my eyes in a daze, cheeks perking the color of a rose. Hell, I'm acting like a damn teenager. She makes me feel things again. Certain feelings of the warmth a good woman like her can spread. I am fucked. She was so warm, so tight. She fit so perfectly around my cock. I wanted to go slow, I was trying to beg myself to pace myself, but she was too irresistible.

I chuckle, running a finger over my lips. I had kissed costars before. It was never a problem. It certainly never leads to scandalous acts, but when it comes to her it seems everything is out of the ordinary for me. I shake my head lightly as I am whisked to my car. Floating on the memory of her eyes, laugh, kissable plump lips, and skin that smelt of strawberry jam. It was those thoughts that got me home. It was those thoughts that invaded my mind as poured myself a drink upon entry. They were also the thoughts that broke the thread as I pumped my shaft in my hand, once again overcome with the need for her. Concealed in the master bathroom, in the shower, allowing myself to fantasize about another woman. "Fuck," Her name left my mouth in a breathless moan.

I looked into the mirror at the man before me. He was a shameful mess. The present visions of her supplying my imagination didn't trouble me. The constant pressing of my cock threatening to twitch at the sound of her voice on the radio didn't trouble me. What troubled me was the fact that I enjoyed every second of it. I yearned for the morning sun each night, the fact of knowing I would be able to see her the next day was enough to close my eyes each night. I would get to hold her, brush her hair behind her ears, and smell the sweetness of her skin. A shameful mess I was indeed. The want grew each hour I spent thinking of her.

~

The bright sun in the sky barely kissed the hills as I opened the door to the studio. I was more in my element. Acting was fun, but I had been missing the feeling of confidently knowing what to do. In here, I could sing and sway to my plans and no one would correct me. I stretch on the ground freely, humming as I do. The door opens and I look back, silently hoping Cooper walks through. But it's just, Louis.

"Well, you seem to be in a good mood this morning," Louis calls out from the door. I smile at him, continuing to stretch. "I just caught up on some much-needed rest." Yes... Rest...

Louis eyes me up and down, not convinced. "I'm not buying that shit. What happened? You look... different. Did you curl your hair for rehearsal?" I slap his hand away from my hair. "So what if I did? I have appearances to keep up."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Yeah fucking right." He lies down on the floor with me as I stretch. "Who was it?" I look at him in confusion, "What?" Louis cackles, "Who did you fuck? Come on I want details." "No one. My god, Louis. Make yourself useful and go put my bag up." Louis tosses the bag over his shoulder with a smirk. "I'm just saying, you've never been this perky in the morning unless you've been riding a dick all night." I cover my eyes in embarrassment. Several of the crew were on set now and heard what Louis blared out. "Shut the fuck up." I snide at him.

I look around in hopes that Cooper wasn't around to see or hear the exchange, but I am never so lucky. He stands at the back of the room, tying his shoes, a small smirk littering his lips. If he did hear, then he is acting like he didn't.

He waltzes over looking awkward. Fuck, I knew this was going to be weird. I narrow my eyes at him as he sways from one foot to the other. "You okay?" I ask with a small smile. He was finally on my rank. These were my stomping grounds and he was completely lost. A light confidence perks in my veins. "Not much of a dancer, or a singer for that matter." He watches as I spin, the black leotard hugging my body. I catch his eyes burning into my frame. "I'm sure you're better than you think." "Oh, I don't know. Never been good at dancing with pretty women."

Jessica stands in front of us and the few extras needed. "I want to run the solo with the choreography from the first take. I know we talked about it, and I know you said you weren't all for the sexy moves, but-"

"No, let's do it." I want to run it." I interrupt her quickly, her eyes lighting up. She claps her hands with a smile. "Everyone else, take your position. We're going to run it."

Jessica gives me the floor as she begins the music. I feel the chords flowing, the music taking over. I begin the rehearsed song and choreography. Swaying lightly to begin, but slowly making out into the crowd. I sing and turn around the tables, captivating the eyes of everyone in the room. One in particular looked as if he was fighting his own will to stay seated. I sing as I sit at the table he's at. His eyes dive into mine and suddenly it is just the two of us, and I am singing directly to him.

I rest my hand on his chest. I can feel the rapid thump of his heart. Cooper stands placing his hands on either side of my face as I sing. He allows his hand to feel down the side of my body. Memorizing the curves of my waist. I turn his head to look back into my eyes, finishing the melody. He brings my face in, passionately pressing his lips down onto mine. Applause erupts from the studio, but he doesn't pull away. Cooper grips my waist tightly, dragging me to the edge of the table, pushing his hardened cock into my thigh. I gasp feeling his length against my leg.

Unknowing to others, but I know. By the look on his face, he knows that I know. A smirk grew on his lips. “I’d say that scene will be perfect, darlin’.” Cooper pulls away from my body, the warmth disappearing. He sits in the seat watching my every move such as a predator stalking their prey.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Hamas has released 3 different vids of the same three hostages over the course of just 24 hours, in the first it claims they're all alive, in the second it questions that, and by the third, it's claiming 2 of these Israelis hostages are dead. The IDF is reminding everyone that Hamas is waging a psychological war against Israeli civilians, and intentionally tormenting the families of the hostages. Nevertheless, it also says there is real concern for the lives of these 2 hostages, Itay Svirsky (on the right) and Yossi Sharaby (on the left). Itay's parents were both murdered on Oct 7. Noa Argamani (in the center) was forced to read the statement about the death of the men. Her mother, Liora Argamani, has stage 4 cancer, and has repeatedly expressed her wish to see Noa one last time before she passes away.

In an interview with Piers Morgan, Thomas Hand, who is the father of Emily (a hostage of Hamas released after 50 days in captivity), said he's daughter is doing quite well, that more than 50 days after her release, her speech volume is almost back to normal, and she's only suffering from the occasional nightmare.

Mira and Barak Ayalon, the civilian mother and son who were killed by Hezbollah the other day, were buried last night in their community, Kfar Yuval. Because of the threat to everyone in northern Israel, the double funeral had to be held at night, in the dark, with a limited number of participants. Not that long ago, when Gal Hershko, an Israeli soldier killed in Gaza, was buried in a similar manner, Hezbollah aired the images, and then showed how in contrast, they bury their own killed terrorists in broad daylight, with lots of participants present. We can't even bury our dead in peace, and then we get mocked for it, and that's the reality that people want Israel to continue to accept on our northers and southern borders.

I don't write daily about the Israeli soldiers killed in the war in Gaza, but we learned about at least one more death every single day. Today, we learned that 37 years old reservist Noam Ashram, who was injured on Dec 29, has succumbed to his wounds, and 21 years old Nitzan Schessler was killed in southern Gaza, bringing the death toll of Israeli soldiers in the ground operation to 190.

The IDF estimates that the terror tunnel network spreads over up to 720 kilometers (roughly 447 miles) in Gaza, with more than 5,700 shafts that allows Hamas terrorists to carry out surprise attacks.

It only took over 100 days (disregarding everything that happened before Oct 7), but the European Union has finally designated the leader of Hamas in Gaza, Yahya Sinwar, as a terrorist, allowing for the freezing of his assets. Looking forward to that being done to every Hamas terrorist senior.

This is 79 years old Edna Bluestein.

She's the woman murdered in the Palestinian terrorist attack yesterday in Ra'anana. The final number of additional casualties in that attack is 19 people, 4 of them severely wounded. Just a small reminder, the 2 terrorists intentionally targeted the elderly Edna, and another casualty, a 66 years old man, and kids, as 7 were wounded.

This is 22 years old Amit Man.

She was a paramedic with Magen David Adom (Red Star of David), and on Oct 7, as the attack on Israeli civilians began, she left her home, where she could have stayed in the safety of her apartment's bomb shelter, and rushed to her community's dental clinic, where the wounded of kibbutz Be'eri were being brought. For several hours she took care of them, and corresponded with her family members. During that entire time, Amit expressed her fear over how close to them the terrorists were, fear over how she could best take care of her patients, and repeatedly asked for the IDF to be directed to the clinic. The last voice messages she left for her family make it clear that she understood that she's not gonna make it out alive. Her apartment was found intact. She would have survived, had she not gone to the clinic, to help others. You can hear Amit's voice message to her sisters, her fear and the relentless gunshots, at this time stamp, and her very last voice message ever here, where she's just begging for it to stop.

Amit's mom recounted that after a difficult shift, when she had lost a patient, after they would talk, Amit would go into her room and record herself singing. The family mentioned that Amit chose to become a paramedic as a teenager, after she saw the dedicated medical treatment her dad got, before he passed away from cancer. If she hadn't made that choice, I think she would probably have been a singer, she had a beautiful voice, and it's clear this was an important way for her to express herself.

A Torah scroll had been dedicated in her honor at the Be'eri synagogue, and a rock band that she loved, Knesiat Ha'Sechel (Church of the Mind) used one of her recordings to create a postmortem duet. The song is called Nothing Is Going to Hurt Me, the original lyrics written by an Israeli soldier, 21 years old Erze Shtark, who died in a military helicopter accident in 1997. Knesiat Ha'Sechel, led by a band member who lost his brother in the Second Lebanon War (2006) turned Erez Shtark's written words in 2008 into a song, as part of a national project, called Soon We'll Become A Song, where many Israeli musicians have been doing the same for fallen Israeli soldiers along the years. The Song has two voices, that of the soldier swearing that nothing would hurt them, because that's what they promised their family, and the voice of the family, saying if anything happened to the soldier, there is no point to their life. "If you're standing here above me," the song goes, "I must have failed my promise. I'm sorry, I swear on my life." In the new version, Amit sings the part of the soldier, and the band sings the part of the family. Here's the duet, and in the vid you can also see the band performing it for Amit's family:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[zuko-always-lies]

List of Azula AU/fic ideas

Better parenting Ursa

Azula raises Katara AU (and continued) and more

Azula and Katara get friendly postwar and talk about their brothers.

Mai is significantly older than Azula and Ty Lee AU (Older "sister" Mai)

Jin works at Iroh's teashop but finds out about his past

Zuko tells Azula about the Spirit Water

Ursa and Ozai get along better, and it's not a good thing AU

Imperialist Lu Ten survives the war and tries to regain his throne afterwards

Zuko finds out more about his nation AU

Revolutionary Azula takes over Ba Sing Se AU

Three different AU ideas in one

Favoritism in the royal family is a little different

What if Zuko had a nonbending twin sister (who he doesn't get along with).

Zuko's daughter changes how he sees Azula

Zuko and Ursa try to isolate Azula ("for her own good")

Ozai gets exiled and the Gaang stupidly ally with him

Earth Kingdom ends up with custody of Azula postwar and support her bid for the Fire Nation throne when Zuko starts another war with them.

The Gaang tries to figure out why Zuko joined them.

Dangerous Ladies find Ursa in Book 2

Azula and Toph fake dating

Zuko/"world leaders" try to force Aang to take away Azula's bending and he's very much not OK with it.

Azula is thrown away to the NWT postwar as a trinket and Chief Arnook adopts her.

Comics! Ursa's letter about Zuko being a bastard gets out.

Zuko and Katara lie about what happened during the Agni Kai

An exiled Azula finds Fire Imperialist! Ursa postwar

Aang has to save Azula from being executed by Zuko

Zuko's defection during DoBS goes very badly for Mai

Zuko joins the Gaang at Ba Sing Se, but it ends poorly

Zuko killed Azula during the Agni Kai, and now he has to deal with the consequences.

AU idea where Zuko keeps Azula permanently imprisoned in bad and torturous conditions postwar, and Izumi finds out about when she’s relatively young, and draws exactly the sort of conclusions about her parents that you would expect. Not to mention being terrified that she might be treated the same way if she missteps…

Ozai never declares Zuko and Iroh traitors

Iroh-Azula roleswap au

Zuko asks Azula for help with his firebending

Zuko wants Azula to like him but doesn't get why she doesn't like him (postwar)

Katara has an arranged marriage with Zuko and Azula tries to get into the good graces of her sister in law

"Katara is supposed to have an arranged marriage with Zuko, but she falls in love with Azula instead."

Another take on Zvtara (arranged marriage) and Maizula.

Azula-Katara AU idea (or: Katara runs into an Azula who has changed a lot in some ways and not very much in others)

Zuko is actually Ikem's son

Firelord Azula ends her brother's exile

Azula raises Izumi (it's complicated)

"AU idea: Azula commits suicide out of despair, and just about everyone is convinced that Zuko had her murdered or at the very least “encouraged” her to do it."

Dangerous Ladies get banished/declared traitors and Azula basically gives up. Mai has to step up her place

I have to say, “Zuko has to deal with finding out that Ursa very much isn’t who he believed she was” remains excellent fanfic fodder.

"AU idea: Ursa is more aware of Ozai’s abuse and potential for abuse than in canon, so, right after her exile, she seeks out Iroh and charges him with protecting both of her children."

Firelord Iroh treats Azula in a really screwed up way.

"AU where Azula dies during the latter stages of the war or right after it, and Mai is the only person who ever morns her as a person, not as a politically convenient symbol (Ty Lee runs away from her complex feelings on Azula as much as she can)."

Dark idea

"Since so much of the fandom is convinced that Azula is Zuko’s older sister, I need an AU where this is true and Zuko is just as throne-obsessed as canon and spends all his time trying to usurp his older sister."

"AU where Ozai has a heart attack and dies right after the fire siblings return to the Fire Nation, and Zuko and Azula have to pick up the pieces. Meanwhile, the Gaang are plotting to overthrow them and bring the war to a close once and for all..."

King Kuai adopts Azula as his heir

Things get complicated, darkly (Azula exiled postwar AU)

What if Zuko tried to be a good brother

"I really need an AU where Lu Ten returns and is pissed over Ozai’s usurpation, so he kills Ozai, seizes the throne, and continues the war. Of course, Iroh ends up supporting his actual son in all of this, and the conflict in the Fire Nation ends up boiling down to Zuko and Azula vs. Lu Ten and Iroh as the situation spirals toward civil war, at the same time the 100 years war continues."

"Maizula AU where Mai married Zuko, but he died not long after Izumi was born, and Azula and Mai are secretly carrying out a relationship while raising Izumi and ruling the Fire Nation as her regents."

Azula joins the Gaang with a twist...

"The chaos which would result if Lu Ten showed up alive again in Book 1 and launched a rebellion against Ozai in pursuit of “his” throne."

Ursa opposes Firelord Zuko

Iroh tries to kill Azula during "The Chase"

Mai and Ty Lee on trial for "war crimes"" and Azula has to save them

This is very long list, and people are welcome to steal any ideas they want from it for their own use.