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darkfemininenergy · 10 months

Text

BEGGING FOR IT — ethan landry and chad meeks martin

pairing: mean!dom!ethan x fem!reader x soft!dom!chad

warnings: threesome, smut, breath play, dub-con, spit kink, face fuck, deepthroat, doggystyle, choking, dacryphilia, dirty talk, head pushing.

author’s note: this is pure filth lmao i’m sorry, i’m currently working on the part 2 of my first one shot. and i wanted to remind you that my content is not for everyone ! sorry if it offends some people, warnings are there for that reason.

"that's right, choke on it, yeah, just like that"

you were drooling all over ethan's cock. behind you, chad was pounding into you like there is no tomorrow, he was thrusting harder and harder into your wet, tight cunt that he was automatically pushing you towards his roommate's cock.

and you were choking on it. ethan's hands were in your hair, gripping it, and his hips were thrusting into your face as brutally as chad behind you. chad held your hips firmly, and watching your back arch under his thrusts, he leaned his head back, grunting with pleasure as he felt you tighten around him.

“holy fuck, you feel so good baby” praised chad.

your face a mess of tears, snot, and drool. you felt ethan hit the back of your throat, and breathing through your nose became harder and harder. you moaned around ethan, only heightening his pleasure. chad straightened his head and watched you choke around his roommate who wasn't as shy and dorky as mindy thought.

he smiled, and when one of his hands left your hip to wrap around you and caress your clit, you rolled your eyes back. you looked so dirty like that, eyes rolled to the back of your head, tears streaming down your cheeks with your mascara running, and with ethan's cock in your mouth.

ethan's eyes were dark, so dark, you looked so slutty like this that he started to loose his mind. ethan's left hand left your hair, but you could still feel your scalp burning under his grip, he caressed your face in a way that contrasted the way he pushed into your mouth, murmuring a soft "fuck" under his breath at how pretty you looked.

and then you looked up at ethan, continuing to take his cock deep into your throat as you tried to keep from coughing, he was big, stretching the sides of your mouth. when his eyes met yours, he smiled devilishly, and you felt a delicious sensation in your stomach as you watched him.

chad's hand caressed your back as he fucked you deliciously, making you moan, and with delicacy, he urged you to arch your back further so he could reach the angle he wanted.

“go on chad, fuck her harder, that slut is begging for it” said ethan while holding eyes contact with you.

ethan's words made your pussy throbbing, and you clenched so tightly around chad's cock that he hissed and started groaning again.

“this is what you want, baby? you want me to fuck you harder?”

you maintained eye contact with ethan, who raised an eyebrow at you, prompting you to respond. and then, you nodded, but this action only allowed ethan to reach the back of your throat so much deeper that you felt his balls slap your chin.

“right baby, anything for my good girl” praised chad

and he started to fuck you harder, making you scream around ethan's cock, sending vibrations around his member. your knees began to weaken as chad's new rhythm made them burn against the sheets.

chad grabbed the back of your neck and pushed you even deeper against ethan, for a moment you closed your eyes, feeling the air struggling to return to your body, you tried to control your gag reflex and ethan noticed that you took it without complaint despite the delicious pain that brought you nothing but pleasure, which earned you another caress on your cheek from the tall dark-haired man in front of you, a caress that made you send a look of adoration towards him, but this caress turned into a little tap, he was almost hitting you.

“good little bitch, taking it so well. just ours to use, uh ?”

when you didn't respond, too lost in the pleasure chad was bringing you behind you, when he slapped you on the ass, growling and murmuring praises at you, ethan snapped.

his hand behind your head began to gently grab your hair, and he pushed your head down on him in one fell swoop, making your eyes widen in panic as you looked up at him, alarmed. he bit his lip to try and hold back a smile at seeing you in such a state.

he wasn't moving, he was holding you down there. your nose against his pelvis, his pubic hair preventing you from breathing, his balls against your chin, with your drool dripping on them, holding you in a submissive position that was uncomfortable. a mischievous gleam shone in his dark eyes, as he watched the tears multiply in your eyes and run down your cheeks.

and just when you thought he couldn't get any deeper, he pushed your head down again, earning a gagging sound from you. you could feel your throat burning.

“uh ?” he repeat, while titling his head to the side.

you began to nod rapidly, hoping that he'd release you and give you time to breathe, but that panicked yet excited look in your tear-filled eyes made him want to cum. he raised his eyebrows again, not satisfied with your answer, you then understood that he wanted a verbal response, but your mouth was full of his cock. he loved to degrade you.

you tried to emit a “yes” around him, but your answer was distorted by the wet sound of your throat as you tried to speak against his pelvis. but he only laughed.

“what did you said ? i didn't catch that” teased ethan.

maintaining eye contact with your dom, you tried to repeat your answer, murmuring a “yes” once more, but you couldn't formulate an answer properly from your position, and that was exactly ethan's aim.

“oh, you wanna say something, fucktoy ?” humiliated ethan.

and then you couldn't breathe, you could feel your face turning red from lack of air. your hands urgently went to his thighs, which you slapped to let him know you had no more air. but how he liked that. you started trying to pull your mouth back, but you had no way out, you were pushing chad deeper into your cunt.

“oh ! where are you going? you're staying there, uh uh, keep choking on it. want you to fucking pass out on my dick when i cum.”

your nails were digging into his thighs, drawing crescent moons on his skin. you were whimpering, and he heard it very well. he was watching you cry, taking pleasure in it because he knew they were tears of pleasure. his hand was still in your hair, preventing you from escaping and keeping you against his pelvis, his hair was even starting to tickle your nose from trying to breathe through it.

you tried to open your mouth wide to gather air even with ethan in your throat, but this made more and more drool run down your neck through the corners of your mouth, and ethan was just laughing at you, you were ashamed to admit it but it turned you on even more, ethan being mean with you made you weak and needy.

you closed your mouth around him, giving him a fucked up gaze and you felt him contract in your mouth. he grinned, and pushing your head against him again, feeling his tip rub and hit the back of your throat, he took a moment to contemplate you and then, spit on your face, you closed your eyes, and he started thrusting in and out your throat again, continued to hold you down by your hair. you could hear him grunting little “shit” while he was in your throat, and it made you feel hot.

but chad, sensing you'd had enough, slipped his hand tenderly around your throat, and lifted you up onto all fours, helping you to pull yourself off ethan's cock despite him. ethan's hand then left your head following chad's gesture.

and you took deep breaths of fresh air, started coughing, and tried to breathe properly with chad whispering encouragement to you, he was always so sweet and soft with you while being dominant, you loved it.

“ethan come on, don't be mean with our girl, our sweet little thing, is that right, baby?”

chad leaned down, massaged your throat with his hand on it and kissed your neck, continuing to fuck you, feeling himself coming little by little.

ethan, meanwhile, watched you catch your breath, and ran his thumb over your swollen lips.

“well, it seem like our sweet little thing needs to be put in place”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #sam carpenter #scream #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #ethan landry x y/n #ghostface #ghostface smut #chad meeks smut #chad meeks angst #chad meeks x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x chad meeks martin #amber freeman #smut #nwsf

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lipglossanon · 16 days

Text

Goodnight Moon

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Subby Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, somnophilia, slight dubcon, Leon POV, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✍️ inspired by @nvoirs ask! so it’s all smut 🤭

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

At first he doesn’t realize what woke him; maybe the last whispers of a dream? He slowly blinks his eyes open and sees you before the sensations click in his brain. He holds in his moan as you sink down on his cock, inch by agonizing inch.

“Fuck,” he hears you whisper, “fuck me, always so big.”

He wants to buck up into you from that dirty praise, but holds himself still as you cockwarm him. Slick drips from your pussy down onto his balls and he thinks he’s going to die here. Almost crying in relief, he keeps his eyes slitted open to watch you raise up as slowly as you sank down on him; the head of his cock keeps your hole spread open before you sit back down, burying him as deep as before.

You moan softly, hands braced on his lower stomach, “So good, god, needed this so bad.”

It feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin; there’s no way he’s not going to give himself away. You feel way too good—so wet and soft and warm around his cock. He bites his tongue as your pussy flutters and sucks his cock back inside while you gently bounce on his lap.

He’s going to lose it, he just knows it. Keeping his eyes lowered lets him watch your facial expressions, lets him see the way your mouth drops open in a little ‘o’ when you sink completely down on him, his tip kissing your cervix in the way you like.

“God, Leon,” you mewl, “you fill me up so good.”

He almost reaches to grab you before realizing you still haven’t noticed he’s awake. He’s halfway tempted to just ruin the moment, tell you what a perfect fucking cunt you have—how you’re just perfect in general. Fuck, he wants to flip you over and rail you into next week for making him feel this way. He loves you, loves the way you make him feel.

A soft moan pulls his attention back to you, gaze secretive as he takes in your needy pout.

“Want your cum,” you murmur to yourself, “god, want to feel your cock pump my pussy full. Want it dripping everywhere as I cum on your fat fucking dick.”

You settle onto his lap, cock buried in your guts as you grind back and forth. His toes curl to feel how tight and snug your pussy walls pulse around his dick; in this position, he can feel you get wetter and wetter as he grinds up against your cervix and rubs across g-spot. He knows from experience this particular combination makes you cum super quick.

Your hips slow down to a swivel and he wants to gnash his teeth; you're edging him and don’t even know it. Just that thought alone makes his cock leak heavily in your tight little pussy.

“Ungh, Leon,” you whimper, “god, I’m gonna cum. G’nna cum all over your pretty cock and ride you til you cream my pussy like I deserve.”

His eyes roll back in his head although you’d never be able to tell. The self control he has right now is astounding; he’d love to just grab your ass and ram up into your sopping wet cunt until neither of you can think. His eyes peek back open to watch you sit up, keeping his cock balls deep in your wet cunt as you rub your pudgy clit. It’s mouth watering; he wants to push you down and hold your hips as he licks and kisses your pretty clit.

It would be so easy; it wouldn’t take anything for him to pin you down before shoving his face into your sweet little cunt. He’d lick everywhere, suck your sensitive little bud until you’re pulling his hair for him to stop. He loves eating you out, could do it all the time but you’re so worried about being caught. Tomorrow, he’s going to lick your pussy all day; you deserve to have someone worship that hot little cunt til you’re crying.

“Oh, oh, oh,” you bite your lip to keep quiet but it doesn’t stop Leon’s fingers from twitching as your pussy clenches down on his thick cock.

Bringing your palm up, you stifle as much noise as you can, hips rocking as your pussy flutters and milks his cock while your orgasm sweeps through you. One more tight squeeze from your walls and Leon’s spilling hot and heavy inside your pussy. A little punched out sigh slips from his mouth, but you must not hear as your eyes stay shut while he’s pumping his load deep in your spasming cunt.

“S’good, so thick and warm,” you sigh, your hand dropping from your mouth down to your abdomen, right over the spot Leon’s cock is shooting the last ropes of his cum inside you.

He lets his eyes slip shut before you can catch him; so for the next few minutes, he listens to when you eventually lift off of his lap, whining about his cum dripping from your hole.

“‘M gonna lose so much,” you complain aloud.

He has to keep his cock from twitching at that or give himself away. You clean him up before dragging his briefs back into place. He gets the sensation of you hovering over his face before he feels you press a kiss to his cheek. Your bare feet pad across the carpet followed by the sound of his door opening and closing. He waits a beat before letting his eyes crack open.

Seeing an empty room, he sighs loudly. How in the hell can he get a repeat of that?

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil fanfiction #subby stepbro!leon s kennedy #subby stepbro!leon #subby stepbro!leon kennedy

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doudouma · 3 months

Note

Heyo! I'd like to request a top three upper moon x s/o! Reader who is kind of mad at them and refuses to cuddle them (but ends up the one cuddling when they thought that they fell asleep- which they didn't.)

“wait, i thought you were sleeping?!”

upper3 reaction to you cuddling them but you’re angry! _______________________________________________

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

you’re upset at the upper moon trio (separate), but you cuddle them when you thought they fell asleep〜

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

↑ (reader spooning character, if you’re worried about that.)

reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : for some reason, i couldn’t comprehend this request. after all, it was late at night〜apologies my lotus, this request is cute！

！anon, i want to apologize to you. right when i finished writing, i reread the request and realized i slightly misunderstood it, and i do not know how to fix it. i decided to post it anyways. m(_ _)m

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

kokushibo

kokushibo.. your straight-forward silent lover…

he knows why you could potentially be upset, but doesn’t see the purpose of being upset about it.

you were upset at something that happened earlier, and tried to ask for a solution from your beloved〜

he gave you your answer, alright.. but he worded it in a way that might’ve made it seem like it was your fault on what happened.

he didn’t try to! he just tried to get you to realize where exactly it went wrong.

now… he’s just waiting in anticipation for your response.

but instead, you just sit there just trying to pinpoint what his goal in mind was. looking a more upset than before.

forgetting it all, you end up heading to bed, attempting to just relax.

drifting off to sleep (if you’re able to sleep), you suddenly remember that your lover didn’t join you to bed. will a small disagreement split the two of you up into separate rooms tonight?

your eyes quickly widen and see that kokushibo is there, but with his back facing you.

when did he even get in here?! it looks like he’s been here for a minute too. sneaky uppermoon one…

now that you’re relieved, you move closer to him, and place your arm around him to his heart♡

he slightly smiles, only smiles. eventually he tells you as he rest his eyes..

“i apologize for the way i initially communicated with you. we may talk this out tomorrow, with less misunderstandings, (name).”

douma

douma wouldn’t understand why you’re mad at him!

teasing is just his nature! no matter how harsh it is, to him, he’s only speaking out of love.

which he is, but.. he doesn’t consider that other people could find it offensive or annoying.

he’ll listen when you voice your opinion on his absurd way of showing love, but, it’ll only result in more teasing〜

eventually, you get too fed up with his cockiness and foul teasing to the point where you just go to bed! without him!

even while upset at your love, you do fairly want him by your side, even if he is being a little s- -

- -so like i said, he wouldn’t fully understand on why you’re upset, so he’s not giving you any personal space.

therefore, he ends up joining you in bed〜

in bed where it feels like forever, with the both of you facing opposite ways.

you silently look over, and to what it seems like he’s “sleeping”.

soon enough you flip over and spoon him, while a smirk appears on doumas face, as he places his hand on top of yours♡

somehow in a span of three seconds, now he’s spooning you, hugging you while saying,

“oh, my love! i knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for too long〜 oh how much i’ve missed you♡”

akaza

akaza is aware of where this all went wrong, but in his brain (if demons have one atp) he just tried to help.

today was just not the day for you.

maybe someone was being annoying, you lost a fight, woke up on the wrong side of the bed, who knows.

whatever happened, akaza was determined to fix it, because he only wants his lover to be happy!

but… you just wanted to be alone. sometimes alone time is all you need〜

but akaza kept bringing you things you like, kept staying near you, and kept asking if everything was alright♡

you accepted his kindness and offers, but you genuinely just wanted to be alone to recharge, but your lover being persistent as he is only made you feel more annoyed.

you expressed that, but he just kept following you like a lost puppy!

in due time, you end up vaguely telling off akaza for “pestering” you and how you just had a awful day.

he stands there, with a blanket and pillow in his hand, not saying a word as you walk off to bed… and he follows you.

he tucks both of you to bed, and you both lay there facing opposite ways.

you lay there, thinking over your day. you shortly realize that akaza was there for you even at your lowest, but you didn’t see it because you were already upset.

you turn around, and swiftly spoon the “sleeping” akaza, holding his hand〜

he lets out a little chuckle and caresses your hand to tell you,

“i’m sorry for ruining your day even further. but i’m glad to be here for you now. sometimes just a hug is all you need, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

besides me accidentally messing this up, the request was fun to write! i’m trying to dive into other fandoms and post more often. i look forward into having your support, my precious flowers.❀ 〜

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goldsbitch · 2 months

Text

Just don't talk------

-actually, maybe don't stop.

p7 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Excuse me, feelings coming through.

Some people were not destined to be friends. Or coworkers or anything like that. The vibes were just not there.

It was a regular FIA briefing. For everyone else in the room it was a rather dull part of their duties, but unskippable. For Y/N it was a true test of will, getting seated right behind Lando. She could not remember a single thing from that meeting. Because how was she supposed to, when Lando's neck and perfectly cut hair were right in front of her. She remembered kissing the back of his neck - and she was suppose to just sit and listen to some regulation changes? When his freckles were just screaming "trace us with you finger, please". The worst thing was when he brushed his hair with his hand or scratched himself. Somehow, he seemed to be doing only that.

Lando was more than aware of the fact she was sitting behind him. It made him more nervous than usual, because he felt zero control over what is happening with her. They hadn't spoken since the gala, no matter how much he wanted to untagle that, he couldn't find the right words or courage for that matter, to try and talk to her. Questions were occupying his mind the whole meeting. Was she aware of him? Watching him perhaps? Wait a minute - was he sitting in some weird position? Is this how people usually sit?

Oscar was sitting next to Lando and noticed how much more weirdly nervous he was getting this afternoon. He quickly exchanged welcoming looks with Y/N, her also being weird ever since their outburst that one evening. Oscar and Lando were getting closer than they had before, so when Oscar connected two and two together, Lando's erratic behavior slowly starting to make sense. He decided to test the waters.

"Hey man," he whispered to Lando loudly enough for Y/N to hear. "That girl there is staring at you like crazy," he said, pointing to some random employee, who definitely was not staring at Lando, but that was not the point there. "What do you think? She looks fun." Lando nearly fell of a chair when he heard him. These kind of comments were highly unusual from Oscar. "What?" he asked, hoping he misunderstood him. This kind of a sentence usually fell out of Daniel's mouth. "Mate, she's been looking at you all this meeting. I think you have a chance."

Of course Y/N heard them. And yes, she did stop breathing for a moment. What was Oscar on about? Why was he doing that? And how the fuck is Lando going to react. He knew Y/N heard them. Of course she must have. His mind was panicking back and forth, trying to come up with an answer that would shut up Oscar. What also freaked him out was that he realized he cared about what Y/N thinks. Maybe Oscar was right, maybe he needed a casual easy hook up. Something less complicated. But, he decided not to burn down the whole house this time using his words only. Neutral. Keeping it open. "Bro, who isn't looking at me," he said and ironically squeezed his bicep. Y/N was finally able let her breath out. Not the worst answer he could have said. Still, she did not need to hear to hear the rest of their talk. In fact, she needed to get out. Focusing on the FIA announcement was not enough, so she politely excused herself and went to the bathroom. Oscar saw that and smiled. His instinct was right. He stopped with his questions and Lando shot him a weird questioning look once Y/N was gone. "So how long is this going on?" Oscar shot at him once again. Lando's eyes went full wide. "Could you stop whatever you're doing, man?" he urged and looked over to the exit, to see if Y/N was still in sight. When he didn't see her, he turned back and opted for fully ignoring Oscar's face filled with amusement.

Lando was not having the best of days. High pressure from the team, since they'd manage to finally get the car into decent state and it was his time to shine and start bringing poles and podiums. Just like Oscar has. But Lando was somehow out of tune with himself - he was not bad, not good, just somehow mediocre. His ego not handling well that his younger teammate having seemingly no issues. It gave him back flashbacks to when he was the young shot happy go lucky star of the team. Now he was becoming the older one with the weight of the pressure bigger than ever.

Qualifying came after few strange practice sessions. But, Lando was picking his spirits up and not letting his head play into it.

He was going to have an absolute blast of a quali. He needed that.

Y/N's team was in their struggle era. Nothing to be done about it, not even her teammate was able to perform. So for her, it was about showing up, doing her job and then let help her team analyse where they could improve. But no one expected them to be the star of this Grand Prix. Having nobody expect anything from you is a different kind of pressure for a F1 driver.

The smell of burning rubber and the loud noise of the paddock was hitting Lando harder that usually. Normally, he would find comfort in the smell of a burnt tire, but this time it was just too much. Lots of people roaming around the McLaren paddock and he was in no mood for that. Headphones and ignore button was his escape strategy. He politely rejected few journalists as he walked away from the driver's parade, quickly shooting few looks towards Y/N who had an aura or a happy-go-lucky fun person today. Lando ignored the next journalist who tried to stop him.

It's impossible to follow other driver's quali when you're also driving. So Y/N found out only at the end that Lando, who passed by on the track in Q2 with a flying speed, was facing the possibility of having his time deleted due to track limits. Her heart sank a little lower than when she was not able to even get to Q3. Somehow, she was ready to be internally proud of him and his improvement. Seeing him, sitting on the platform with the fastest car of the session, watching his P2 getting slashed was brutal. She wanted to slap George, who visibly cheered when this meant he got pushed into Lando's spot.

Interviews were a great thing when one was to be happy and cheerful, it was a great way how to share enthusiasm. But when one had a failure on the back, answering questions without having a moment to process was just pure sadism. At least this was how Lando felt, but surely others must have shared this as well. He knew his duties, so he paraded himself from one journalist to another, like on some strange carousel. He was so lost in his world that he completely missed Y/N, who was doing each interview after him, hearing his self-deprecating answers getting worse and worse with each interview. She had to fight the urge to simply hug him in front of all the people.

There was no place without prying eyes in an F1 paddock. Y/N hoped she would manage to get to the McLaren hospitality without being seen by any major news outlets. And if so, fuck it. She texted Oscar to help her get in through the back door and slip in without causing a scene. He did just that.

"He's in his driver room," he simply stated when she entered.

"Thanks, Oscar. Can you take me there? Is there anyone in?"

"I highly doubt that. He told everyone to not so kindly fuck off."

"Well, I guess I'll join them soon," she sighed, knowing that stubborn Lando was a no go Lando. That stupid boy, always pushing everyone away.

"Again, highly doubt that," Oscar replied without a cell in his body doubting this. She just smiled and they shared a knowing look. Once she'd be ready, there was a long list of questions she had for Oscar. He just wanted to help his clueless friends.

When they reached the driver's room door, she started doubting her decision. Oscar saw that and knocked loudly instead of her.

"Please leave me alone, I've said it few times now," came from behind the door by a distressed driver. Oscar shot Y/N a serious look, pushing her into speaking.

"Lando?" she simply asked, not knowing what to say.

"Y/N?" he replied with a much softer tone that previous sentence.

"Can I please come in?" she asked in the most honest tone Oscar had ever heard her speak in.

The door clicked and opened slightly. Oscar saw this as his cue to leave and Y/N entered the room.

When she came in, Lando was facing her with his back, still in his driver suit and sipping on his energy drink. She gulped, sensing the tension in the room. They were both equally bad at talking. Was this just going to cause more problems again?

He felt down, really down. The only reason why he let her in was that there was no one else to go to. A slight glimmer of hope that she might make him feel understood.

"I'm sorry your lap got deleted. I watched in on a replay, pretty badass," she said with the same soft tone as before. Her voice was music to his ears, but the words she said stung like a bee. Pity was not something Lando sought after.

"Badass maybe, stupid definitely," he replied, playing his mistakes over and over.

"That's just stupid. Stop blaming yourself all the time."

He turned around to face her. "So should I just blame the pit crew? Or the engineers? No, I'm the only one who fucked up. The one who let the team down."

His attitude was starting to really annoy her. "Lando, shut the fuck up. Stop with this self hatred."

"This is what losers say."

"Ok. Let's play a game. Imagine I did what you did today. Tell me the things you're saying yourself in your head. Say them outloud." He was taken back by her sudden shift of mood, not knowing what king of a game she was playing this time.

"No."

"Say it. I'm not leaving." She paused, awaiting his reaction. Nothing came, so she pushed more. "Come on."

He took a deep breath. Fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?

"You're stupid for risking too much. You knew that the track it tricky..." he stopped himself abruptly. He could not bare saying the rest of his speech to her lovely innocent face. "No, I can't. You haven't made the mistakes. I have. So fuck this shit."

She took another deep breath in. Knowing that every word she chose mattered. "My point is - you would not say these things to someone else. because you know that it just does not help. It's toxic and only gets you stuck. Owning up your mistakes does not equal beating yourself up for them. I saw your engineer on the hallway. That's not a face of someone who blames you the same way you do yourself."

He finally let her in. "So many hours of people's lives invested in that. The people working, the fans traveling and spending money on watching me fail like a school boy. What if I'm just not enough?"

It was strange how much she was able to relate to that feeling. "If you'll start believing these thoughts, you will not be. But there is so many smart people who believe in you. Not because they like you or because they are a fan. Because they look at the graphs and see it. Black on white."

"Do you believe in me?" he heard himself slipping through his lips. All walls were down at the moment. The raw look in his eyes was something Y/N would remember forever.

There was no way she could answer this in a negative matter. "I'm scared of you on the track," she laughed. "In the best way possible. When you flew beside me today, I felt....I dunno. I guess I felt proud."

Silence fell over the two very tired and exhausted souls. Maybe that's why they were able to let their guards down. In that moment, Lando regretted every bad word he ever said to her. She stood there, in the most human way he ever saw her. Intoxicating kindness.

"Can I hug you?"

"Yes."

And so he embraced her, with all that he had been holding back these past days, letting go of all the tension, replaying the words she just said to him. The smell of her hair hitting him hard. Her sore post-race body crumbling into his.

part 8

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@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv @riverxsq @eviethetheatrefreak

finally back at it! more coming - thanks for the support!!!

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jenoslutie · 10 months

Note

i saw your requests were open and im really craving jeno filth rn. can i request a blurb of mean/angry jeno wanting to try anal spur of the moment while fucking but theres poor prep. can there be focus on degrading, humiliation, & dacryphilia? i saw on your requests that you write some hard kinks so hopefully this works (if not, ignore me). thank you!

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1501

warnings: degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, anal (with little to no prep), mentions of haechan, angry jeno.

a/n: thank u anon!! im so sorry im replying so late i've been suffering with severe lack of motivation but thank u to @jenomov for motivating me to write this luv u bb!!

Ever since you and Jeno got home earlier, hes been upset and he won't tell you why. All you remember was being at a little get together with him and his friends and midway during the night he took you by the hand and told you that you guys would be leaving. The whole car ride was silent and you honestly don't have a clue what could be wrong with him. You'd assume one of his friends may have said something that pissed him off but if that did happen he would've mentioned it to you. All your attempts of trying to ask him have been pushed away with him either ignoring you or simply telling you to not worry about it.

"Jeno?" You walked into your shared bedroom after washing up where he was at his desk playing video games, already having changed into a pair of grey shorts and a white t-shirt. "Can you talk to me? what's wrong?" and much like the other times, he ignored you once again. Being fed up with his silent treatment, you went up to where he sat at his desk and took his headphones off his head, placing them on his desk and turning the chair around so he'd finally look at you for the first time since you'd gotten home today.

"Jeno, talk to me please, what's wrong? I don't know what I did and it's making me feel like shit knowing that I upset you and I don't even know what I did" Jeno groans, not amused that you reminded him of it again. "You know what, fine I'll fill you in." He sat you down on the floor in front of him and his voice was awfully calm which was a stark contrast to his demeanour from less than a minute ago. He tucks your hair behind your ear and ran his hands through your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it roughly, making you wince.

"I was looking for you the whole time today but where did I end up finding you? Sitting outside with Haechan. You know how he feels about you yet you still entertained it like some attention whore." He sneered as he says this and tugs on your hair harder.

Now you remember.

Jeno seemed to be occupied with his friends so you and Haechan decided to go and get some drinks from the kitchen before sitting outside and people watching. There was barely any dialogue exchanged other than some random comments the both of you made when you saw someone doing something funny.

So you tell Jeno that.

"You know, if you really want to slut yourself out to Haechan while your boyfriend is busy with his friends then go ahead. But for now, come on, strip" Jeno was seeing red at this point. He was already upset that you ditched him and when he finally did find you, he found you hidden away with his friend who's had feelings for you since time. What added on to his anger was you were wearing this skin tight black romper with no bra underneath so everyone could clearly see every curve of your body and your very hard nipples.

He watched you as you got rid of that stupid romper that made you look even sexier than you already were. "come on, take off those panties too, sluts like you don't need those. I'm surprised you even wore any in the first place." you complied with a slight frown, the situation was so arousing to you right now but you couldn't show him just how much it was affecting you. Jeno hummed as your naked body stood before him, his fingers finding their way to your nipples to toy with them before bringing his mouth to one and flicking his tongue over it making you moan softly. However that didn't last long until Jeno got off his chair and sat you on it instead. You brought your hand down to your sopping wet cunt and realized your wetness was dripping down onto his chair. You knew Jeno wouldn't be happy about it considering his mood right now so you chose not to even mention anything about it until he'd notice himself. Which clearly didn't last long because when Jeno looked down to where your hand was, he saw the mess that was made on his new gaming chair.

"What the fuck is this hmm?" Jeno raised his eyebrows at you making you close your legs and look down in shame. "You know, I was thinking of letting you off easy but I don't think you deserve it today. Get on your knees and clean up your mess." You whimpered at his degradation. As harsh as his words may get, you know he doesn't mean it at the end of the day. So you obeyed his command and fell to your knees and lapped up your arousal from his chair, leaving an arguably bigger mess but you know Jeno never really minded in the first place.

"Good girl. Get on the bed baby" You followed all his commands with no hesitation. Making your way over to the bed with him trailing behind you. He sat you on the bed before getting rid of his shorts and shirt. Immediately, you knew what that meant so you got right to work, licking at his tip before taking his length in your mouth. Sucking him off like you know he likes. Making a mix of his groans and the sound of you gagging from his length hitting the back of your throat fill the room.

He pulled you off him before he was able to reach the edge. "Get on your hands and knees." And you obeyed, arching your back the way he likes it. What you didnt expect was to feel his cock circling your rim. it's not your first time doing this with him but there was barely any prep or foreplay to prepare you for this. "Jeno? I dont think I'm prepped enough for anal right now..." you trailed off to which he slapped your ass in response. "You can take it I know you can, It'll feel good I promise" Dropping down a glob of spit to 'lubricate' your hole before he slid in just his tip around your hole, hips stuttering from the feeling of your hole squeezing him in. The pain was too much making your eyes well up "Jeno fuck..it hurts so much" And as if to make it better, he dropped another glob of spit on your hole to make the stretch more bearable (it didnt help much). When he finally bottomed out in your ass he let out a loud groan which you could almost feel from the way his cock twitched inside you. Your cheeks were stained with tears as you fought the urge to beg him to at least use some lube but the thought quickly went to the back of your head when he started pounding into your ass while rubbing at your clit.

"Jeno fuck" you sniffled and you didnt expect Jeno to fucking whimper at your tone. "Fuck baby are you crying?" He chuckled softly, flipping you onto your back to observe your messy tear stained face.

"You're so fucking pretty when you cry baby it makes me wanna ruin you more often. You like when I fuck you hard like this?" You nod and soon the pain is mixed with pleasure when he rubs at your clit harder and your arousal trails down to where his cock is pounding into you.

"Gonna cum Jeno feels so good" Jeno knew you were close from the way you tightened up around him and your legs shook around his waist. "Cum baby. show me that pretty teary face when you cum." And you did. Your orgasm hit you so hard that you sob even harder, your face a mix of tears and drool that made Jeno's high to follow right behind yours. He buried his cock all the way inside you and you feel the hot white ropes of cum filling you up.

Jeno slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you, wiping the tears off your face. "You're so good to me baby sorry if I was too rough today." You shook your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to do you any justice in the moment. Jeno returned the smile and gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

"And just so you know, I'm not mad about the Haechan thing anymore. It was a stupid thing to get mad about I'm sorry" You smiled at the man before you. Jeno less than 10 minutes ago was nothing compared to the Jeno you were seeing right now.

"It's okay, I love you and only you okay?" He hummed with a smile, giving you another kiss to your forehead before he went off to get something to clean you up with.

#jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #jaemin smut #haechan smut #renjun smut

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anonstormx · 2 years

Text

Nursing aid

Homelander x fem!reader

Wet nurse!reader needs help

(wordcount:500+)

warning: lactation kink, breastfeeding, humiliation, workplace relationship, noncon(kind of), obsession, power imbalance, voyeurism, biting, not edited

note: finally back and im on a homelander kick. Did anyone see that homelander asmr rp on youtube? dont tell him i sent you but it inspired me

Read on AO3

Homelander overhears Ashley talking about her newly hired wet nurse and becomes obsessed with interrupting feedings. If it was anyone else, she could protect you from them.

Your job is to care for the child during work hours while his mother is busy. What separates you from the rest is your specialty, producing breast milk for the child. Something you're still learning to manage, but when it comes to wet nursing, a supply is what keeps you paid, lavishly paid.

That's why you have to sidestep any humiliation you feel when the baby makes a hunger cry. You desperately desire to take the baby off to another room, but unluckily for you, Homelander decided that Ashley's office is the perfect spot to have lunch. Knowing you would have no choice, you show him exactly what he came here to see.

Forced to sit and let Homelander watch as the infant fed on both sides. When they are satisfied, you cover up your revealed chest, trying to ignore the wild gaze coming from across the room. You turn away and massage your aching breasts, still full of milk.

"My sweet angel, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" He wanted you to say it. Ask for him. Let him be a hero and take care of you. Of your body.

You knew this would come one day. He was always too eager, too interested in what you for it not to come. Watching from a distance only kept him happy long enough to ask some questions and learn your schedule. The important questions like are you single? Living alone? Have family? Intrusive questions.

"A bit uncomfortable, that's all" He laughs at your noticeable distress and starts walking in your direction. The last step is purposely on your backpack, shattering the breast pump you'd usually use in moments like this. "Oops, my bad. Did you need that?"

Homelander has been meaning to do that for a long time. Dumb machine. He stomped on it one last time, smiling when you recoil and shut your eyes. "Look at me. Open your eyes angel. Watch me" His hands caress your aching chest.

You let him pull your nursing bra down, pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples. Whimpers and tears, spurring him on, making him more aggressive.

"Sit. Don't move" Homelander kneels between your knees, pushing your skirt up and panties to the side. The chair you were once feeding in felt smaller, arms encircling you, pulling you close. Uncovered cunt rubbing on the coarse material of his suit as you try to squirm away. He ignores your fight and sucks your tit in his mouth.

You could cry when he moans at the taste of your milk hitting his tongue. Attempts to push at his shoulders are guided to his head by a gloved hand. You give in, bringiing him closer and directing him to the other side. Homelander bites your nipple, laughing when he can feel your pussy throb against his erection.

"ow ow gentle please" You need to find a new job. Immediately. (maybe)

#homelander #the boys #reader insert #self indulgent #homelander x reader #smut #tw: noncon #lactating kink #filth #fanfic #x reader

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eitaababe · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER ONE.

╰┈➤ THE BLUE !

series masterlist. | previous / next ➛

a/n — i finally posted hallelujah

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Transferring to a new university went smoother than you expected.

You'd just settled into your new place, waiting for your new roommate to arrive. Majority of the cardboard boxes have already been unpacked, the empty ones folded neatly and stacked in the corner.

You turned your head, meeting a bright smile of a curly haired girl. You couldn't help but smile just as bright back— captivated by the girls dimples and shining eyes.

"You must be y/n! I'm Tsireya, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you– oh," you paused, chuckling to yourself when she pulled you into an embrace, hesitantly hugging her back. After pulling away, you smiled shyly, "Thank you so much for taking my roommate request on such short notice, I didn't think I'd get an apartment room this close to campus this late in the year."

"Oh no worries, my old roomie transferred out a few months ago and rent is a bitch to pay. Plus it's nice to finally have another face around here after so long," she admitted, eyes traveling to the rest of your unpacked boxes. "You need any help with those?"

You nodded, politely accepting her offer, and as you both put away the boxes, you released a breath you didn't know you were holding.

─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ───

A group of basketball boys walked out the gym and into a hallway, all panting and wiping sweat from their forehead.

"Coach Tonowari really takes hell week serious," Lo'ak panted, leaning against the wall in exhaustion. "If I have to run another five laps around the court I might puke."

"Have fun cleaning that up on your own." Ao'nung called back, joining Lo'ak on the wall. "But yeah, my dad's no joke when it comes to conditioning."

"That smile's deceiving." Rotxo groaned, pulling a hoodie over his head.

The conversation came to a halt when a group of cheerleaders passed the boys, giggles erupting from the girls as they checked them out.

"Hey," Ao'nung poked Lo'ak's side, smirking sideways at him. "I think blondie over there has her eye on you."

"Nah man," Lo'ak laughed it off, not sparing a glance towards the passerby's. "I think I'll pass."

"For someone who says they're over their ex, you really aren't acting like it," Rotxo quietly piped up, earning a stink eye from Lo'ak. "I'm just saying!"

"Have you guys ever thought that maybe I just like being single? Me and Tsireya ended things on good terms, you guys know that."

"Doesn't mean you're over her."

"I am!"

"Prove it," Ao'nung challenged. His attention wandered over to you, walking out of your class. "Go talk to her."

Before Lo'ak could respond, both boys shoved him into your direction.

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If you had to choose a con from transferring, this would be it.

An 8am class was definitely not what you had in mind when you chose sports medicine as a major.

So when you finally trudged out of what seemed like the longest class ever, and still half awake, the last thing you were expecting was to get pummeled against the wall, and a large weight still on top of you the cause of it.

"Look where you're going!" You snapped, shoving the unidentified man off of you. "Eywa, is it so hard to–"

"I'm so sorry!" A voice cut you off, and you'd be lying if you didn't feel like you didn't get the wind knocked out of you once again, meeting the eyes of the mysterious boy. "Me and my friends were messing around, and I kinda lost my balance and ran into you."

Keeping a hard face, you nodded, hoping he couldn't see the pink rising in your cheeks. As you drank his features in, you came to notice he was attractive— more attractive than you'd like to admit. Whatever he was rambling on about fell deaf on your ears as you observed the rest of him, just hearing the end of his rant.

"Anyways, I'm Lo'ak." He introduced himself, bringing you back to reality. He had expectant eyes, and you realized he was awaiting a response from you.

"Oh, I'm y/n." You introduced yourself, not saying much more.

"Well, y/n," he emphasized your name, probably to prove that he would remember it, "sorry again. Maybe I could pay for a cup of coffee? To make up for practically tackling you against the wall."

You gaped, shocked at the audacity of this Lo'ak boy. He just knocked the living daylights out of you and was asking you out on a date?

"Are you serious?"

"Not like that! I promise!" He waved you off, trying not to come off too strong. "I just- noticed your eyebags.." He trailed off, avoiding your glare. "Anyways, thought you could use the caffeine."

While he wasn't the most polite, you weren't one to decline a free offer for coffee. "Fine."

"Great! I'll pick you up tomorrow?"

"Wait what?"

"How else do you expect for me to bring it to you?"

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you held out your hand, gesturing for his phone. "Here, I'll give you my address."

"How about your number?" Lo'ak grinned, handing his phone over to you.

Scoffing, you had no choice but to agree. "Alright, but you better pick me up at 7:15. No later."

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, eyes glancing down to his phone, sending a text from his number. He started off, catching up to his group of friends, but not before hollering towards your way, catching the eye of a few on goers. "I'll see you tomorrow, y/n!"

You stood still, appalled at the boys antics.

"Boys."

"Take that, you fuckers!"

Lo'ak shouted as he caught up to the rest of the group, Ao'nung still looking unimpressed. "Congratulations, you talked to a woman. Turns out you're not completely hopeless."

"Shut up, dude," Lo'ak groaned. "And for the record, I got her number. I'm taking her out tomorrow morning for coffee."

"You're lying," Rotxo intervened, laughing lightly. "There's no way a girl that pretty would agree to go on a date with you that fast."

"Hey! I have game!"

"No you don't," Ao'nung disagreed, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Twenty bucks this is the only date you'll go on with her."

"You're on."

─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ───

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing.

Without any thought, you swipe and answer it, only to be met with a certain someone's voice.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!"

You groaned, burying your face back into your pillow. "Go away."

"Would love to, but I owe you a coffee and you wouldn't respond to my texts about your apartment building."

"That was your number?"

An offended scoff was heard from across the phone, "You were ignoring me?"

"I didn't recognize the number."

"I texted saying it was me!"

"Oh," you paused, laughing at your own antics. "Okay, maybe I was sort of ignoring you."

"Careful, I'm gonna take away my offer."

"It's an apology, you can't take away an apology!" You huffed, not realizing how much you were looking forward to the free coffee.

"Whatever, still waiting on an answer."

"My apartments on the east side of campus, the blue one. Just pull into the parking lot and text me when you're here and I'll meet you outside."

"Gotcha."

Once Lo'ak hung up, he signed into his hands. He knew which building you were talking about, he'd spent countless nights over at the very same one. He grabbed a helmet, mounting his bike and driving off.

Checking your phone and seeing a text from what you assumed to be Lo'ak's number (you still refused to save it), you threw on a sweater and quickly made your way to the parking lot, stopping in your tracks when you took in the sight in front of you.

"You have a fucking motorcycle?"

"No, I own a cargo van," Lo'ak deadpanned, chuckling at your unamused expression. "Yes sweetheart, I own a motorcycle."

"I thought you said you had a car!"

"No, you said I had a car."

"I can't get on that!" You whined, running a hand through your hair in a stressed manner. "It's not even safe! I'm wearing my backpack, what if papers fly out and I lose my books? Plus, I don't even have a helmet."

"Well then, isn't it lucky I brought one for you?" He teased condescendingly, and you wanted to punch the smug grin that you knew was underneath the helmet right off his face. "And I ride this bike to school everyday, with a backpack. You won't lose anything. Promise." He held out the helmet towards you, waiting for you to grab it from him.

With furrowed brows, and a look that Lo'ak swore made you resemble a toddler in a way they were having a tantrum, you took the helmet, putting it on and hesitantly making your way towards the bike. "What if I fall?"

"Just hold onto me." He stated, as if it were so easy.

"The things I do for free stuff." You mumbled underneath your breath, seating yourself behind the boy and wrapping your arms around his waist, trying to ignore the close proximity between you two.

"You ready?"

Before you could even answer Lo'ak took off, making your grip tighten. "I'm never getting coffee with you again!" You shouted, although the both of you knowing you didn't really mean that.

"Sure, sweetheart."

The place Lo'ak took you to was nice, a cafe that was walking distance from your morning class (which you thanked eywa for, since you didn't have to go in another death ride again).

When you walk in with him, you don't fail to notice the confused looks of two baristas in particular, staring at you behind the counter. You can't help but feel slightly self conscious at their eyes, until Lo'ak rests a hand lightly on your arm. "Don't worry, that's just my brother and sister."

"Oh," you stared at his siblings, slightly tilting your head in confusion. "..Not to be-" you paused, trying to find the right words to say. "I just- uhm, they don't look like..you know?"

Lo'ak broke into laughter once he realized the point you were trying to get across, and couldn't ignore the pulsing of his heart at the adorable look of confusion on your face. "They're adopted."

"Oh!" You breathed out in relief, chuckling awkwardly. "Gotcha." and to avoid anymore awkward situations you made your way to the cashier, Lo'ak following in suit.

"Hey Kir," He smiled, looking over at the other boy. "Spider," Without expecting him to, he pulled you beside him, making you smack his hand off of you. "This is Y/n."

"Hi." You smiled politely, earning a couple smiles back.

As Lo'ak ordered and paid for the both of you, you looked down towards the floor, trying to ignore the gazes that were seemingly locked onto you the whole entire time.

"You good?"

His voice snapped your head upwards, meeting his warm eyes of honey. You opened your mouth, only to find your throat dry, and opted for a silent nod instead. You noticed the drinks in each of his hands and took the one closest to you, thanking him quietly before quickly walking out of the cafe, grabbing your bag from the bike and walking out, leaving a very confused Lo'ak, and his siblings even more so.

But you really could've cared less, as you tried to calm the constant pounding in your chest.

taglist / open. @s-surreality @il0veheartz @blueforte @etherialblackrose @syulangg @anonymousailurophile @ipoopedmypants47 @neqeyam @alwayswndr @doulcha @n7ytiri @8resa (tags that don't work in comments)

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shhh-secret-time · 1 month

Text

Yeah so this is in fact going to be a two part fic! This request came from AO3 and we were able to hash out more on this fic! I pitched the idea of making it a cowboy AU and they seemed to really like that idea! So here we are! Please enjoy and look forward to part 2!

Warning: Strong-Language, Gun Violence, Blood (Minor), Writer doesn't know how guns work!

Pairing: Gunslinger!Kyle x Fem!Reader

Colorado was an untamed lawless wasteland, at least that's what most people out East would tell you. Between talks of untapped land and the rumors of gold mines out that way, people were scrambling to find out there. But not all men had fortune and discovery in their hearts. Some had things to hide, pasts they intend to bury deep in the desert sands.

You were one of those people. As an heir to your family's printing press, it was only natural that from the time you were born a target would be painted on your back. Distant family members, friends of the family, hell even the butler once thought if they got their hands on you, they could use you as leverage. Kidnapping, attempted murder, blackmail, and threats all before the age of sixteen. You'd seen and heard it all. And every time it got harder and harder to want to stick around.

Now here you were twenty something and unwed. Parents long buried having left you everything as they always said they would. You were alone with all the money one person could ever need, and it was so incredibly lonely.

After a while you just kind of became desensitized to the attempt at your life. But no one really gets used to being so alone. How were you supposed to make a connection with people, when all that ever came up was the talk of marriage or your money.

Truly you were grateful for your parents, and you did love them! After all they were good to you, they protected and loved you. That protection morphed and twisted into an overbearing relationship. Up until now you weren't allowed to go out on your own, they decided who you interacted with. Your tutor you had known for years had to go through a background check by the Pinkertons every few months just to remain employed.

So, again, when they passed it was like being thrown out into the ocean and told to swim. If the business was to stay afloat you would have to learn to be sociable and professional. Learn to swim in the shark infested waters of a male dominated field.

Or you could sell the company to the highest bidder and bounce. Which is what you decided to do. Auction out your family’s printing company and try to retire in the lap of luxury. Maybe start your own book using all that tutoring your parents got you.

But it could never be that easy, could it? Once word got out about your plans to sell it all, certain people started plotting against you. It all came ahead one night when you were getting ready for bed. You blew out the candles that kept your bedroom lit, closed your windows, and locked your doors. Double checked them a few times before finally deciding to lay your head down for the night.

A lot of good that did. As soon as you close your eyes, a gloved hand cups your mouth. Another pair goes for your arms and legs, you feel the coarse hemp rope across your skin. Another night, another attempt at your life.

Your attackers must've not heard that the heir to the printing press was no damsel in distress. Quick as they came, your hands shot under the pillow next to you, the side of your bed that lay bare. Except for the .38 derringer that you slept with; two shots loaded in the chamber. Two intruders and still two shots were all you needed.

Click. Bang.

You stand there watching the sheriff and his posse drag the intruders off in their wagon, a blanket thrown over your shoulders by said sheriff. He sits next to you with his badge gleaning off the dull light from the city’s lampposts, a cigar tucked in between his teeth.

"You know this is the third attempted break in this month." He says puffing on the brown tobacco.

"I know." You mumble, bringing the blanket closer to your form.

"And the third time my men had to take in men with bullets in their chests. You're lucky you're a fine shot or I'd have to take you in for murder." He doesn't look at you, but you can hear the danger in his voice. See the way he inspects the cigar, holding it between his fingers.

"Sheriff?" You look up at him with furrowed brows.

A chill runs down your spine when he finally meets your eyes. The smirk that slowly creeps up his lips says it all.

"Now that's not to say I don't believe you. From what I've heard you got quite the record when it comes to things like this." He gestures vaguely with the tip of the cigar before continuing, "just find it kinda odd it keeps happening to you."

"You think I ask for this?" You ask back with a little more frustration in your voice than you should. Could you really be blamed for it though? The sheriff who was supposed to protect you, keep you safe from things like this, was sitting here blaming for the actions of stupid men.

"I don't think you do anything to prevent it. Just strange that a lady in her prime lives alone and isn't going about means of protection besides what...a gun under her pillow?" He blows out smoke that illuminates under the same light that touches his badge, the heavy white smoke lifts from his lips towards the night sky.

You honestly couldn't believe what you were hearing. That shiver that went down your spine spread throughout your body, making your blood run cold. Men breaking into your home you could handle, but a person with actual power? This was a battle you couldn't fight, not alone anyway.

"I'm sorry sheriff." You bite your tongue until you taste blood. "You're right. I should do something about this."

That was the best advice that asshole could have given you. To find someone in your corner. To find someone who can smuggle you out of the state and across the country. Finding someone who you could trust to not immediately shoot you in the back or run off with your money.

After searching around and pushing the word out there as subtly as you could, you finally catch wind of someone who fits the bill. You'd have to push a few dollar bills into the right hands, greasy palms, and all that, but you eventually get a name.

Kyle Broflovski.

That name carried weight, made your tongue feel heavy when you said it. The kind of reputation that he had wasn't one to take lightly. Over thirty bounties turned in alive and done by hand. While the number of bounties he brought in may not have been the largest out there, it was the fact he took down only the worst of the worst. The number on the bounty poster meant nothing to him, it was all about what the target had done. He was exactly what you were looking for, a man who could see past the money.

Now it all came down to arranging a meeting with him. Even a shut in like yourself knew the best place to find what you were looking for was the local saloon. The only thing left to do was dress down and try to convince the famous gunslinger that you desperately needed his help.

The smell of cigarettes and cheap booze was the first to greet you and you hadn't even opened the door yet. You could see boot prints made in the sawdust scattering across the floor. The cheery show tunes being played behind the door almost drowned out the sound of laughter. Before you could push open the door, a man came flying out being thrown by another gentleman. He hits the stairs and slumps down next to your foot. The poor man hit his head pretty hard, enough for it to put him to sleep.

With a little gulp you ignore the shaky feeling in your legs and push the dark wooden doors open. Maybe the thick brown cloak thrown over your form wasn't doing the best job at helping you blend it, but on the other hand most of the people here seemed to be enthralled by the women playing upstage to even care that you walked in. The girls dressed in flashy clothing were dolled up in the brightest makeup you've ever seen. They were gorgeous and the performance they put on brought life to this place, it was no wonder why people could lose themselves.

Your eyes scan the room as you scurry away from the door. People coming in and out, pushing past you like you weren't even there. The entire situation made your anxiety spike, being in such an unfamiliar place.

Somehow your legs carry you over to the bar. Taking a seat at the scuffed wooden counter, you note just how many empty shot glasses are covering the surface. Empty plates that looked like they were dipped in grease. Stained glasses that had thick amber liquid, the kind that burned your throat just looking at it. You tried not to look at the bar too much when you caught sight of faded red stains.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself before trying to flag down the bartender’s attention. A woman with tan skin and dark red hair. The bags under her eyes are so dark you don't think she understands the concept of sleep. Two cross tattoos just under her amber looking eyes lead your own down to her outfit. The light blue vest she's wearing makes her skin pop, somehow her nail polish isn't chipped or scratched in anyway. You watch as she takes a bottle of liquor by slotting it between her index finger and her middle finger.

She must have sensed your eyes on her because she side eyes you for a moment. The woman flips the bottle over and pours a clear liquid into a small shot glass. Once the drink is poured, she slides it down the bar and it lands in the hand of another patron. It takes her but a second to put the bottle down, wipe her hands off, and then approach you with a cigarette dangling from her lips.

"You're new here, aren't you?" She asks like she already knows the answer to that question.

"I... I am. I was just...looking for a drink." Not a complete lie, at this point a drink would help calm your nerves.

"Is that so?" Her brow shoots up. The bartender takes the cigarette from her lips and blows out a thin wisp of smoke. She crosses her arm under her chest and gestures for you to continue.

You look up towards the various brown and orange glass bottles behind her. Brands and names you've never heard of before lined the shelf. It isn't until you get to the higher up shelves that you find something you recognize. A bourbon, darker than most. Something your father used to have from time to time.

You lift your finger and gesture to the bottle. She follows it and lets out a little hum.

"The bourbon? Hm. Color me shocked. Alright."

"Two shots...please."

She stops and looks back at you with the bottle in her hand. A small smirk plays on her lips. "See that's how I know you're not from around here. Most people don't say please. Much less recognize a good brand. Most of these assholes just drink rotgut like it's the end of the world."

"I am a bit out of my element." You run your fingers over the wood, brushing your fingertips over the carvings. Wondering what the story was behind each little chip and groove.

Like before she takes two shot glasses between her fingers and places them down on the bar. The bottle is uncorked with a satisfying thoonk. You watch as the liquid catches the bright lights of the bar, making the amber shimmer with the candlelight.

"No kidding. What brings you here?" Once she's finished pouring your drinks she puts the bottle back under the counter. Her hands make themselves busy by collecting the dirty glasses, putting them off to the side.

"I'm looking for someone. Someone said I could find him here."

Like something straight out of one of your penny and dime novels, she begins cleaning the inside of the glass with a rag. When she doesn't say anything, it makes you shift nervously in your seat, but she eventually nods expecting you to continue.

"He's a gunslinger. Tall from what I've heard. Bright red hair?" You do your best to describe a man you've never met. You make a gesture with your hands by your head of his rumored fluffy red hair.

Before you could continue the woman stops cleaning the crystal-clear glass. She puts it down with a loud thud making the men next to you jump and look away. You hadn't even noticed your conversation was garnering attention. She lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, you really aren't from around here. Let me give you a little advice. The man you're describing has a bit of a reputation around here. Only comes around when he's intending to collect."

You blink up at her.

"Bounties sweetheart." She snuffs out the cigarette with a little chuckle. You must have looked like a newborn dear the way you looked at her. Blushing a bit at the thought, you try to push it down. Suddenly the little glass of alcohol in front of you looks far more interesting.

"But my contact said he'd he here."

"Your contact isn't wrong." She pauses for a moment. "Man at your six- don't look." She hisses as you go to turn your head.

"Sorry." You squeak out, snapping your head back towards her.

"Man at your six is wanted in four different states. Highway robbing, harassment, nasty attitude...a perfect blend of asshole."

"Oh..."

"Men like that bring the gunslinger. Now I don't know what you want with someone like him, and I don't want to know. But if you want his attention, when he gets here you had better work fast." She looks down at you as she rubs her neck.

"Wh... why?"

"Because he'll drag that idiot out to the streets and probably duel him. Win. Tie him up and take him into the sheriff's office. Collect his bounty and move on."

"You talk like you know him." It was time for that liquid courage. You knock back the drink and grimace at the taste. It burns and claws its way down your throat.

The bartender lets out a little laugh at your reaction, or maybe it's your question. "I've been around for a while."

"She's also full of shit. She talks like I'm a gun lovin' nut." The low whispering voice next to you makes you turn in your seat.

He's a bit shorter than described but still pretty tall. His hair is exactly as you imagined it to be, curls sticking out from under his usual green cowboy hat. The way his emerald, green eyes peer down at you makes you shrink in your seat. They widen a bit as you squirm away, so he decides to move his head up towards the bartender who's got a smirk on her face.

"You gonna tell me I'm wrong?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

"No, no just that you make me sound much more dangerous than I am. Just a simple man tryin' to earn enough to eat." He says with a chuckle.

And when he smiles at her, lips curled up so softly. Every part of this man looks so gentle. Even the green tattered sarape around his body looks warm and inviting. It was hard to believe someone so soft looking had a reputation. On the other hand, it made it easier to approach him, maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

The drink you bought for him would probably help too. You recall all the times your father would pour his business partners a drink before pitching a new idea. So, you take the shot glass and scoot it towards him. He blinks down at it before letting out a little chuckle.

"You've got this backwards ma'am. S'pose to be the other way 'round. Man's supposed to buy a pretty woman a drink." Despite it all he takes the shot, and in his hands, it looks too small. He holds it up to you and downs it without blinking. The corners of his lips twitch and his hooked nose wrinkles a bit, looks like he wasn't expecting the stronger stuff.

His compliment makes your cheeks burn; you twist the material of your cloak in your hands. "Well...nothing says a lady can't buy a gentleman a drink, does it?"

"I reckon not. Just ain't used to it s'all." He puts the glass down with a gentle tap. "But you're sittin' in this here bar all by your lonesome askin' for me. So... here I am. Somethin' I can help ya with?"

How much of your conversation with the bartender had he heard? Enough to make you nervous that other people were listening in. Your hands lowered to the derringer strapped to your thigh, under the long skirt no one knew it was there. You palmed the handle and took a deep breath. There was no real plan to use it, but it brought you a little comfort. Just a reminder that it was there.

"Yes I-"

You're cut off by the sound of screams. From a few of the waitresses and working ladies to be exact. You look over your shoulder, it's coming from your six. Where the bartender told you not to look.

A burly man stands up and when he does, he looms over most of the men in this establishment. Slicked back short black hair tucked inside a crumpled up old bowler. For all the grime and dirt on the man the one thing you could give was that his handlebar mustache looked nice. The rest of him, not so much.

His voice bellows out, bringing an end to upbeat show tunes. "Broflovski! Yous here fer my head ain't ya!"

The man grins like he's proud of the fact that he's garnered such attention. The way he carries himself almost has you fooled if it wasn't for the bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face.

"Not at the moment, no. I was in the middle of havin' a conversation. Rather rude to interrupt a lady Knucklehead." You don't know if Kyle is calling the man a knucklehead or that's just some stupid bandit name.

Either way he sneers and with a flick of his wrist he tosses the gamblers table to the side. Chips and cards go flying up in the air, the poor dealer scrambles to get out of the way.

"I don't care if you was havin' breakfast with the fuckin' Queen of England! You shoulda know better than ta come in 'ere without a lil' backup. See I ain't one fer duelin' so we're gonna have ta do this the ol' fashion way. With yous layin' face down in the dirt bleedin' out ta death!" He whistles and a few more men sitting at other tables stand up.

Couldn't have been more than five or six, every single one of them equipped with some kind of weapon. Rusty nails pushed into wooden boards. Chains being spun around so fast it creates a little breeze. The sounds of their spurs jangling as they start to step closer.

Kyle puts his hands up defensively, the laid-back smile he had on his face falls when they get closer. "Now come on, can't we talk this out. Like I said, I ain't finished my conversation. It'd do you well to learn some manners. Call your men off."

He's not asking. The way he narrows that dark greens at the man makes the room feel cold. For a minute you think you see a spark in those eyes, a glint of something dangerous.

"God damn it..." You almost don't catch the bartender behind you mumbling, but you do hear the rack of a gun clear as day.

It's quiet all except for the way Knucklehead growls, deep and low in his chest. Despite having all these men, he still somehow looks like an animal backed into a corner. The bead of sweat trailing down his face travels lower. Down his cheek, towards his jawline where it hangs. Then...it falls. Drips onto the sawdust covered floor.

Plip

Click. Bang.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling someone's hands on your shoulder. You're hoisted in the air and thrown over the bar, you can hear the way glass shatters. Another collection of screams, and then nothing but groaning. When you open your eyes, you're in the arms of the bartender, the woman has the both of you pulled down and tucked behind the bar. Safe certainly isn't the word you'd use here, but it was better than being in the crossfire.

She's got another cigarette lit in her mouth; a shot gun pointed up towards the ceiling. You strain your ears, but you think you can hear her counting in Spanish. You can smell the gunpowder in the air, it's almost as thick as the tension. Then there's a different sound. A grunt of pain and the sound of a chair being broken.

"Thought you could really take us all on?! You're fucking daft!"

The gunslinger lets out a strained laugh, wiping the blood off the corner of his mouth. Splinters of the wooden chair catch in his curls. The man took a hit from the gorilla and is still standing. Well, more like leaning over the side of the bar for support, but nevertheless his eyes are still open.

"Daft is a big word for you Knucklehead. Gotta give it to you!" His voice sounds strained and broken. You catch the way he's struggling to breathe yet still has it in him to snap back.

Without thinking you take the shotgun from the bartender and before she can protest you lower the barrel towards the man. He seems surprised to see you jump up from behind the bar, he must have really not cared that you were there. But a loaded gun that can shoot slugs the size of an acorn sings a different tune.

"Now missy...this ain't got nothin' ta do with you. Yous don't wanna get yourself wrapped up in somethin' I don't think you can handle." Knucklehead's eyes lower to the gun in your hand, the gravity of the situation sinks in. Not enough for him to let the gunslinger’s throat go, but enough to where he's contemplating backing away.

"Let him go. Let him go and back away." You keep your voice steady, that nervous air about you slips away and a different mask comes on.

That mask you've had to wear every time you look danger in the eyes. You don't see a man choking a bounty hunter to death, you see a large target. A light you could snuff out with a twitch of your index finger. You can see it in his eyes, the way he looks down at Kyle, whose smirk has returned. Then back up at you, staring down the barrel of the shot gun. It's cold double barrel unblinking eyes.

"Whattya say Knucklehead... feelin' lucky?" Kyle is able to put a little distance between Knucklehead's hands and his throat. Enough to take another gasp of air and spout some cocky one-liner.

It must have pushed the brute over the edge because he went to move again. If you had to guess it would be to lift Kyle up and use him as a shield. But he doesn't get that far. Doesn't even make it past a muscle twitch because your trigger finger is faster. For the second time that night shots ring out, but this time it's only the bandits scream that fill the air. He goes flying back letting the red head go.

If it wasn't for the bartender, you would have gone flying back as well. The force of a shotgun wasn't something you were used to. Compared to your derringer’s little kicks, the shot gun was in a league all on its own. Her hands keep your body steady, holding you by the waist. She lets out a puff of smoke and sighs.

"Nice shot." Once she realizes you're okay to stand on your own, she breaks the silence with praise and lets you go.

"O-oh...um thanks." It makes your face flare up; the fact the entire bar’s attention is now on you. The wondering eyes make you squirm and want to shrink back down behind the bar.

"Shoot a man dead in his chest and ya get a little flustered over a compliment." Kyle laughs in between trying to catch his breath, his coughs sound painful.

You avert your eyes from him, like it will do your blushing face any favors. Trying to ignore the way his laugh makes your body burn. Something about it makes you feel a bit tingly. It's either that or the adrenaline coursing through your veins. They land on the man bleeding out on the floor. He's clutching his sides spouting so much profanity you feel like you need to confess at the church just hearing it.

Just as Kyle finally gets the ability to breath properly again, the sheriff and his men come bursting through the door. The same sheriff who you had a problem with. The same one who put you on this crazy path. Once again, things could never just be simple. Every little fucking thing had to get in your way.

His eyes fall on the man first, then on you. Then on the gun in your hands and you immediately groan. Of course, he had to come in just as you slugged a man. With a scoff, he gestures to his men to round up the other bleeding bandits. Kyle was able to take down the other group by himself. Their leader using the men as bait so he could close the distance.

You push the shotgun back into the bartenders’ hand and sigh. Kyle watches as you lift your skirt and put your foot on the counter. Without a second thought he offers you his hand and helps you down off the bar. You take it and allow yourself a quick smile. One the sheriff is quick to wipe away.

"It's always you. I guess I didn't make myself very clear." He says with a sneer. "I thought you were smarter than this, seems I was the one mistaken."

You shoot him a look, brows furrowed in confusion. "Sheriff, I didn't start this! I was just defending my um..."

Friend? Soon to be employee? Guy I just bought a drink for. Shot another man for?

"I wasn't talking to you woman!" He snaps, eyes flickering between yours and Kyle's. When they land on the man his eyes narrow. "Was talkin' about this one! Coming into my town, causing trouble! Think just because your daddy was a lawyer you're above the law!"

The look the red head gives him would be enough to kill. Death himself would answer that call. You watch a vein pop out from the side of his temple, his hat and hair barely covering it. Kyle didn't even show that much anger towards the man who threatened his life and interrupted his conversation.

"Sheriff Cartman I wouldn't have to come to this town and clean up your mess if you and your men did your fucking job!" Kyle hisses through gritted teeth, emphasizing the word this like he's reminding the sheriff the town doesn't belong to him.

"I should've known better than to think you could be anything but trouble! I should haul you in with the rest of 'em!" Cartman's voice is dangerous, completely immune to the looks he's getting from Kyle.

"On what grounds?!"

"On the grounds that I'm the fucking sheriff and I'm sick and tired of your bullshit!"

"That ain't enough to bring me in you fat son of a bitch!"

"Let's go ahead and tack on threatenin’ a man of the law to that too! Wanna keep going Kyle?!"

Cartman uses his first name so casually. The air grows heavy again as the two men get into each other space. Neither go for their weapons instead fingers curl around the collar of each other's shirt. Kyle looks like a lit fuse ready to blow and Cartman is just adding fuel to an already dangerous fire.

"A-Actually Sheriff! If I may!" You don't know what compelled you to put yourself in between the two bickering men. Guess there was a little left in the old adrenaline tank, taking down a man twice your size will do that to you.

"What?! Get in my way and I'll make sure to slap you with a fine as well! Helping a criminal won't look good on your record!"

"Criminal!?"

"Gentleman! I believe the lady is trying to talk! Now you either let her talk, or you take this shit outside!" The bartender cuts them both off by slamming her hands on her bar. Her voice isn't loud but it's enough to make both men stop.

The sheriff mumbles something under his breath that makes the bartender narrow her eyes. He turns to you giving you the floor.

"Sheriff just...please hear me out." You've dealt with men like the sheriff before. Men who think they're the smartest man in the room, so it's best to just make them think they're right.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you. Y-you see...I was just following your advice! You told me to find some help and that's what I did!" As you explain yourself Kyle's brows furrow in confusion. "I was looking to hire Mr. Broflovski here."

"Didn't realize you were selling yourself out now Kyle. Bounty hunting too hard for you?" The sound Kyle's teeth makes as they grind together makes your breath hitch.

"If Mr. Broflovski here agrees, I'd like for him to take me out west. If you think about it this is the best outcome. You wouldn't have to deal with me anymore and I'd be taking him with me."

"Now hold on-"

Cartman cuts him off like he's not even there, at this point Kyle's face matches his hair. "You're leaving? Jesus christ why didn't you lead with that!"

"Yeah..." You smile and let out a little sigh, the whole situation would be a lot funnier if it wasn’t you.

"I tell you what...you leave tonight. You and that ginger fuck get out of my town, my state, my side of the country! I'll give you an hour and if you're not out of here. I'll run you down like dogs!" Sheriff Cartman looks pleased with himself and the whole idea, but the more he speaks the more it comes through gritted teeth.

"Two hours."

"One and a half, only because I'm in a good mood." He clicks his tongue and turns on his heel. "Plus, however long it takes for my useless deputy to book these assholes." Cartman turns his back on both of you and walks towards his posse.

Great. You had an hour and a half to get out of town and you hadn't even asked the famous gunslinger if he was even willing to do this.

"Well, I reckon we outta be on our way." Kyle breaks your thoughts with the sound of his voice.

You look up at him with your eyes widened. He smiles down at you and flicks up his hat, moving the brim out of his face.

"No need to look at me like that. You told the Sheriff we'd be outta here so let's get a move on." He speaks.

Kyle makes his way towards the double doors without so much as a goodbye. You go to follow him but stop, turning back towards the woman behind the bar who is just picking up the broken glass scattered around the bar.

"Um...ma'am." When you call out for her, she turns and looks in your direction.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

".... You’re welcome, now get outta here. You wouldn't last a day behind bars, so go on. Get."

A soft smile plays on your lips. She was right, you had a long road ahead of you.

The bartender looks back over her shoulder when she hears the double doors close again. She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. As she stands up with the metal pan filled with broken glass, her head lulls to the side.

"What I wouldn't give to be a tumbleweed following them. Ya got your work cut out for you Broflovski." A smirk plays on her lips.

Kyle leads you out towards the stables where he kept his horse. She was a pretty horse, a blend of brown and whites painting down her back. She doesn't stir much until Kyle gets closer, when he's within reach she bends down and presses her head against his hand.

He smiles and touches the side of her face, petting the sides gently. There was that soft and warm feeling you got when he first sat down next to you. Even after the bar fight and the whirlwind of events that happened, he found a way to go back to being so gentle. When he turns to look back at you, you quickly find something else to look at. Suddenly the saddle on the back of his horse looks so very interesting.

"I don't s'pose you got your own horse, do ya?" he asks as he unhitches his horse from the post.

"No, I don't. I... wouldn’t even know how to go about riding one." That seems to catch him off guard.

"Hm... We’ll have plenty of time to fix that. For now." Kyle walks over to you and whispers a, ‘pardon me'. His gloved hands cup your hips and lift you up. He lifts you like a child would their doll, like you weigh nothing. He sets you down on the back of his horse, guiding your legs over the side of the large creature.

It feels so strange, the way something so powerful just stands there letting him do it. You cling to the saddle for dear life as it takes a few steps forward and then back. If you had to guess she was just as surprised as you were.

Kyle swings himself up onto the horse shortly after. He puts his arms around your waist, being oh so careful on where he lets his arms rest. His hands find the reigns and it forces him to get closer. Close enough to where you can feel his chest against your back.

You can feel his heart beating against his chest, it makes you feel a little better knowing he seems to be just as nervous as you. At the very least that's what you're telling yourself. You can't see his face, unable to move any part of your body out of fear of falling off.

No, you can't see the blush that’s creeping across his freckled face. Can't see the way it trails down his neck, disappearing behind the layers of his clothes. You would never know how much he's mentally screaming at himself to get a grip.

"Gonna be a little uncomfortable at first. Just bear with me for a while. As soon as we hit the next town, we'll see what we can do about gettin' you your own horse." With that he clicks his tongue and snaps the reigns.

You let out the smallest squeak as the horse goes from a gentle little trot to a full-on sprint. Your hands fly out to grab onto Kyle's arms using the cowboy to steady yourself. A part of you thinks about asking him to just go ahead and drop you off at the holding cell. At least then you could die behind bars and never make such embarrassing noises again. The other part of you felt a twinge of excitement when you heard him chuckle. Feeling the way it made his chest vibrate low. It kept you warm against the cold wind that rushed past you.

It doesn't take long before Kyle feels your body go slack. He peers down at you and feels his heart leap up in his throat. You were tucked up against his chest, arms wrapped around your frame fast asleep. He only wishes that he could slow down so he can take off his sarape and bundle you up in it. Instead, he settles for pulling you closer, caging you in his arms. He'd do everything in his power to make sure the ride was at least a smooth one and by the time you'd wake up, hopefully, he'd have you out of town. And hopefully then he can get more details about this job he blindly accepted from you.

For now, he'd let you sleep as he rode out towards the moon. Nothing but the wind at his back and the large pale light to his front.

Next Chapter ->

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awilddaydreamer · 2 years

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Ok but how is hardly anybody talking about the comedic gold that was everyone running into Bdubs base as he shouts at them to get out, one of them saying “Here they come!” in such a jolly voice followed by Bdubs going “What are you bringi— PILLAGERS!?” in That Tone like they are all actually cartoon characters every single one of them

#double life smp #bdubs

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incorrigibled · 2 months

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( addison timlin, female, she/her ) — 🎬 just announced, WHITNEY WINTERS has been cast as HALEY JAMES SCOTT in the upcoming ONE TREE HILL reboot. the twenty-nine year old is trending as people are debating if the singing karaoke on the weekends, a sweet tooth, always taking pictures on set and big brown deer eyes that they are known for is enough to make them as good as original. a quick google search shows that their fans call them genuine, but internet trolls think they’re more feisty. i guess their newest interview for variety where they talk about she used to hate hearing the sound of her voice on tape will let people know them better. ( andi, 25, cst, she/her, none ! )

tw: eating disorders, body dysmorphia

i will get a proper doc up soon but here's my angel

character inspo: grace kelly, izzie stevens (grey's anatomy), elle woods (legally blonde), amma crellin (sharp objects), kat karamakov (dance academy), elle tomkins (the society)

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙨.

Full Name: Whitney Grace Winters

Age: 29

Height: 5'1"

Eye Color: Warm, deep brown - often described as "big brown deer eyes"

Hair Color: Golden blonde, styled in loose wave

Father: Reginald Winters, a shrewd business tycoon and the patriarch of the influential Winters family. Mother: Genevieve Winters, an esteemed philanthropist known for her grace and social contributions. Upbringing:

Raised in the opulent Winters family estate, surrounded by luxury and tradition. Attended prestigious private schools and received a well-rounded education in arts and culture. Style:

Casual: Effortlessly chic with a penchant for designer jeans, stylish blouses, and statement accessories. Red Carpet: Graceful and glamorous, often seen in sophisticated gowns that highlight her statuesque figure. Everyday Look: Bohemian chic meets classic elegance, incorporating flowing dresses, tailored blazers, and vintage-inspired accessories. Hobbies:

Photography: An avid photographer, often capturing candid moments on set and during travels. Karaoke Nights: Enjoys unwinding by singing her heart out at local karaoke bars on weekends. Sweet Tooth: Known for indulging in artisanal chocolates, pastries, and other delectable treats. Personality Traits:

Ambitious: Driven to make her mark in Hollywood on her terms. Authentic: Values genuineness and strives to remain true to herself amidst the glitz and glamour. Adventurous: Enjoys exploring new places, trying different cuisines, and seeking out unique experiences.

𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆.

Whitney, with her distinctive big brown deer eyes, has become a trending topic, as social media platforms buzz with discussions about her potential to step into the iconic role. Known for her penchant for capturing moments on set, Whitney's Instagram feed is a testament to her love for photography and provides a behind-the-scenes glimpse into her life as an actress.

A quick Google search unveils the dichotomy of opinions surrounding Whitney Winters. Fans laud her as "genuine," appreciating her authenticity, while internet trolls dub her as "feisty," perhaps a testament to her fearless approach to both her career and public image. In a recent Variety interview, Whitney opens up about her journey, revealing a vulnerable side as she shares her previous aversion to the sound of her own voice on tape, providing fans with a deeper understanding of the actress behind the roles.

Before gracing the reboot of "One Tree Hill," Whitney carved her path in the entertainment industry with notable roles in both television and film. From her portrayal of Emma Chota in "Red Band Society" (2014-2015) to the compelling character Summer Newman in "The Young and the Restless" (2013-2017, 2018-2020), Whitney has showcased her versatility in the realm of soap operas and teen dramas.

On the big screen, Whitney delivered a memorable performance as Penny Lane in "Almost Famous" (2011), proving her prowess in bringing depth and nuance to her cinematic endeavors.

As Whitney Winters takes on the challenge of reviving a beloved character in the "One Tree Hill" reboot, audiences can expect an enthralling mix of talent, charm, and a genuine passion for storytelling from this rising star.

Whitney's upbringing has been a tapestry woven with the threads of privilege and sophistication. Attending elite private schools and socializing within exclusive circles, she has effortlessly embraced the expectations that come with being a Winters. From lavish galas to cultural soirées, Whitney navigates high society with grace, carrying the legacy of her family name with dignity.

The Winters family fortune, built over generations, stems from astute business ventures, investments, and a keen eye for opportunities. Their financial empire spans various industries, mirroring the diverse talents within the family. With business moguls and influential figures in their lineage, the Winters family has left an indelible mark on both the corporate and social landscapes.

Despite the legacy of wealth, Whitney Winters is determined to carve her own path in the entertainment industry, proving that she is more than just a beneficiary of her family's affluence. While the Winters name opens doors, Whitney's talent, ambition, and dedication to her craft are what truly set her apart in the world of Hollywood.

'ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵃᶜᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ

The seeds of Whitney's eating disorder were sown in the early days of her career when the demands of the industry collided with the relentless pursuit of an idealized body image. The pressure to conform to Hollywood's beauty standards, magnified by the scrutiny of the public eye, led Whitney down a perilous path.

To the outside world, Whitney appears flawless—a vision of beauty and elegance. Yet, behind closed doors, her life becomes a dance of meticulous calorie counting, grueling workout regimens, and a constant battle with the numbers on the scale. The pursuit of perfection becomes an unrelenting force, driving her to extremes to maintain the image that the industry demands.

Fearful of the judgment that might accompany vulnerability, Whitney buries her struggle deep within, keeping her eating disorder hidden from friends, family, and even her closest confidantes. The isolation intensifies, and the burden of secrecy grows heavier with each passing day.

Whitney's disorder takes on a life of its own, weaving a vicious cycle of guilt, shame, and fleeting moments of perceived control. The industry's insatiable appetite for physical perfection becomes the battleground where Whitney fights her silent war, unknowingly contributing to the perpetuation of a toxic cycle.

As Whitney rises higher in the echelons of fame, the toll of her eating disorder becomes increasingly evident. Frailty replaces the strength she once exuded, and the sparkle in her eyes dims. The facade begins to crack, prompting whispers within the industry and speculation among her devoted fan base.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

all the connections pls.

squad. best friends. her platonic soulmates

the oth girl gang

the one that got away

mutual pinning

fwb / ex, like they claim to have moved on but hook up everytime they see each other and can't stop. lowkey a toxic relationship like so fucked up but its a good kind of hurt

okay but would it not be hilarious if the actor cast as Nathan can’t stand her for whatever reason and they have to act all lovey dovey on screen for however many seasons + maybe they hooked up before even auditioning and whitney like stomped all over his heart

Friend of convenience. They are seen taking pics all over social media and at various events but are lukewarm to each other at best when not in public

A very Lauren Conrad/Heidi Montag type of relationship. They used to be best friends and had a major falling out and now even hearing that they will be in the same room together causes whispers

Unrequited Crush/Secret Admirer

Longtime Childhood Friend

#2000s.intro #eating disorder tw #ed tw

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bringina · 2 years

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Absolutely adore how all of Agott's growth spanning across the whole series is finally culminating into what we've seen of her in past multiple chapters, and I love love love how Coco is at the center of it all, as she always has been.

The Silver Night Procession is, given the, ya know *gestures towards the mess that is Agott's family situation*, extremely important to Agott. In her mind, lot hinges on how she will be able to present herself.

Yeah, we had a Whole Damn Talk about this, but it's not like that desire to prove herself fo her family just poofs out of existence ya know? I'm certain Agott is very much aware her mother will show up any moment, if she isn't already at the parade, and hoping she can do something about impressing her, even if it's not Agott's sole reason for participating anymore.

And yet, the second she sees Coco locked up in terror

(which btw like, am I reaching or does this scarily mirror Agott's flashback to her younger self crumbled on the floor. I'm willing to put this on my brain grasping for angsty implications but I digress)

When Agott sees her she immediately rushes to her. Zero hesitation. Fuck her reputation and fuck her family, Coco being in despair is magnitudes more important.

And I just vibe with this so much y'all like, Agott is so ride of die for Coco. I don't know how many people ship them, personally I'm in the camp of "Agott has a crush on Coco the size of an ocean and it'd be very cute if they held hands more often" but they're just. Precious. And then Kamome Shirahama still didn't think we're cheering loud enough and drops the Arco/Orufrey parallel like.

*waves my hands around wildly* Are you seeing what I'm seeing. How else am I supposed to interpret this. Poetic cinema.

#witch hat atelier #wha #tongari boushi no atelier #tnba #agott arkrome #wha agott #wha coco #arco #arco to orufrey paralels my beloved #i am goin feral over baby WLWs #agotts growth across the whole series is one of my favorite things about the manga and we do not talk NEARLY enough about how good it is #i will make a post about her character arc someday because like. wake up people its right there in front of us and so beautiful #i adore agott so much you have no goddamn idea she really is just so chef kiss. crops watered depression cured etcetera #bringie talks #oh shoot i should tag them spoilers #wha spoilers #tbna spoilers #arkco

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liltaz-asatreat · 2 years

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The Man Who Became the Hunger

Also on ao3!

Content Warning: The part where John experiences eternity may cause an existential crisis or dread

Thank you to @institute-of-planar-shitposts for beta reading this for me!! :D

Also, there’s going to be more notes about the headcanon I have that this story is based off of at the end :3

John walks out of the back door of his house one chilly spring morning and into the meadow behind it. The grass is still wet with dew, and the early rays of the sun peeking out behind the clouds casts a rainbow through the mist hanging in the air. He pulls his light jacket around him a little tighter as a gentle breeze flows past him. It's still early enough in the spring time that it seems the wind forgot it isn't winter anymore. He looks up at the sky and sees that the clouds are starting to thin a little, especially around the sun, and he surmises that the day will warm up a bit more soon.

The mist feels refreshing against his face as he continues walking through the field, and he slips a little every once in a while as water clings to his shoes and the hems of his pants. When he gets a good distance away from his house, he looks around at the empty field before laying down and gazing up at the sky. He's known to do this fairly often. The middle of the meadow is where he does his best thinking, especially when he ponders about life, and the thoughts that are on the agenda for his brain to think about today seems to be just that. Life. What does it all mean? Why is he here? Why is anyone here? What's the purpose for life being what it is?

John quietly hums to himself and breathes in the earthy smell around him. He closes his eyes for a few seconds with a feeling of absolute peace as he lets his thoughts roam lazily before he opens them again to continue looking at the sky, and it takes him a moment to see it. A speck of light is flying down from the clouds above him. It's so faint at first, that he thinks something must have gotten in his eye, but after he blinks and rubs at them for a second or two, he sees that it's still there. A little closer this time. A little brighter and a little bigger. He sits up with a start and watches as the light comes flying down closer and closer. He can see now it's a ball of brilliant white light, bright enough that it should hurt to look at it, but it doesn't. It actually feels really good and calming to look at it. He doesn't have much time to think more on that though because it's just overhead, aiming for a spot right in front of him. He jumps up and backs up a few paces as it slows its fall and lands softly in the grass at his feet.

John stares at it for a while before looking back up at the sky. Nothing else seems to be coming from the clouds. He looks around the field. It's still just as empty as it was before. He looks back down at the light in puzzlement. Was this a direct sign from the gods? What does it mean? He slowly bends down and picks it up. It's not so much a ball as it is physical light itself. It's not solid but at the same time he's physically picking it up and holding it in his hands, and he can feel it. It's warm and comforting and absolutely thrumming with energy and power, but it's not like any physical object he's ever held. It doesn't have any form in his hands. It's just... there. In his hands.

“What are you?” He whispers to himself in wonder.

He can almost swear the light is trying to whisper back to him.

John shakes his head and looks up again. He turns to look back at his house, and he makes a decision. He's going to cancel the talk he had scheduled for this afternoon, so he can spend all day studying this strange thing. His followers will be disappointed, but he can always reschedule. He is at home, after all, instead of somewhere else in the world. It would be easy to do since he doesn't have to worry about travel concerns.

After he gets back to the house and sends a message along to his venue through The Wire, he makes himself another cup of coffee before bringing the light and his cup back to his office. He takes a long draft from his cup before setting it down on his desk along with the light, and he sits in his rolling office chair. He scoots the chair a bit closer to the desk and stares at the light in front of him. It's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The light not only makes the room physically brighter, but it also seems to make the atmosphere lighter and brighter too. It's a comfort and warmth, and it feels like it wants something from him. It feels like it needs him to do something to it or with it.

John pokes it tentatively, and it moves slightly backward. “Are you a gift from the gods?” He murmurs curiously.

Something faint seems to whisper to him in the back of his mind, but he can't make it out. Is he just imagining it? Is it the light trying to communicate to him?

He picks it up again and rolls it around in his hands. “Is that you whispering in my head? Can you talk?”

There's a faint whispering again, and it's almost like it's tickling his brain. He tries to concentrate on it, but the more he tries, the more faint and incomprehensible it becomes.

He continues poking at it and talking to it throughout the rest of the day, but he gets no where with it by the time he goes to bed. He hopes the next day will bring enlightenment, but as the next day comes and goes, he's still just as clueless as the day before.

This goes on for months, and so does his life.

He goes out and does his public speaking around the world to inspire those who listen to find their own understanding and paths in life, and each speech that he performs ends with the usual enthusiastic applause of his audiences. He meets with his fans and shakes their hands, and he listens to the personal plights of some of his followers with the intention to advise them on how to open up their world of possibilities. But his heart isn't in it anymore. Most of his thoughts are occupied by that strange physical light, and he always hurries to get to the place he's staying to study it more.

One particularly exhausting day toward the end of summer, John is back in his hometown, and he comes home and throws himself into his office chair which rolls back a couple of feet. He leans back and closes his eyes for a few seconds before he lazily glances over at the light sitting on his desk. It looks as bright and beautiful as ever, and it's still full of secrets waiting to be unlocked.

He sighs and wipes a hand down his face. “I don't have the energy to think real hard right now, but I still want to know what you are,” he says to the light.

There's that familiar hum in the back of his head, but he doesn't try to pick out what it says. He's too tired for that.

“I was supposed to talk about the meaning of life today, but I haven't thought about that question in a long while. It used to take up a lot of my mental space, but ever since finding you, I haven't thought about it as much. I had a hard time coming up with my speech and answering questions at the end of it. It's hard, you know? I still haven't quite solved that puzzle either, and who knows if I ever will.” He sighs and scrubs his face. He keeps his eyes closed and his face in his hands a little while longer.

I know the answer to that if only you learn how to listen.

John sits bolt upright in his chair, and he stares at the light. He's silent for a few seconds before he asks, “Did you... were you the one who just said that?”

The energy the light is giving off seems to grow a little warmer and happier. So you have learned to listen. I hoped this day would come. The voice is small, just a few decibels over a whisper in the back of his mind. But it's there, and he can finally hear what it's saying.

John is ecstatic.

He rolls over in his chair, so he's sitting at his desk before picking up the light. “What are you? Where did you come from? This is incredible!”

Hmm how do I answer that? I come from a place outside this very existence. I am a tool created and used by beings in that place that actually helped to create this existence that you are a part of. I know the answers that plague your mind, and I am a tool capable of bringing those answers to life if only you use me. Use me, John. I can answer any question you have about all of existence and everything therein. I can advance understanding and creation, and I can help you develop and make anything you desire. Anything at all. All you need is to ask, and I shall provide.

John looks awestruck at the light in his hands. “So the gods made you and made this plane of existence and everything in it with your help?”

John, I'm the one who created the gods themselves. Or, more accurately, the beings who used me created the laws that make up this entire existence that allowed the gods to come into being. I am the light that created all of it, John.

John furrows his eyebrows. “You made the entire planar system?”

Yes, but even more than that, John. I made this entire reality that contains this planar system. I made all of the realities that make up the entirety of this existence. There are millions upon millions of realities and planar systems and planes of existences and all of the stuff within them in this existence, and I made all of it possible, John. And now, I've somehow slipped from outside of this existence and into your meadow, and now that power rests with you. What would you like to know, John? What would you like me to do?

John leans back in his chair with a large smile of disbelief spreading across his face. He runs a hand through his hair and laughs a little. “Okay. Okay. You said you knew the meaning of life. What is it? Why are we all here?”

The meaning of life is to simply exist. There isn't a set meaning to your and anyone's existence because the creators didn't create the laws that made the creation of you and all of life possible for a specific purpose.

John deflates a little. This isn't the most exciting answer, but it is one that makes sense.

And as for why you're all here, it's all part of the process of making and being the bonds that uphold your reality and all of existence. Without you and your bonds, existence would fall apart and cease to be.

That piques John's interest again. “What do you mean by bonds? What are bonds?”

In a very broad term, bonds are the connections that hold together existence and everything in it. Everything from the structure of atoms and molecules and how they interact with each other to the interactions of energy of all kinds like thermal and magical to the food chain of predators and pray and absorption and decay to the emotional bonds between people and animals and everything that makes up life. All of those are forms of bonds. To relate it back to why life exists, and more specifically if you mean sapient life as you preach to your followers, it's to create bonds with each other. Your relationships and emotional attachments all help to stabilize your planet and everything else all the way up the chain to all of existence. Your life doesn't inherently have meaning, John, but it is no less important in upholding existence as anything else you can imagine.

John runs a hand through his hair again and laughs a little. “Thank you. This changes everything! I have to draft my next speech. I have to get the word out. People are going to be so happy that we finally have an answer!” He sets the light down and goes to grab a piece of paper and pencil, but he stops himself as he yawns. More than anything, it would seem that he needs to go to sleep.

Use me, John. I can make your speeches be heard around the world. I can make your speeches be heard around this entire plane. You will be adored as the man who solved it all, and you will have the power to advance civilization and create whatever it is that your heart desires. We can do it together.

John looks at the light again with a soft smile. “I will take you up on that tomorrow. It's been a long day and a big night. I need to get some rest.” He scoots away from the desk and stands up, stretching out his arms and back. “Goodnight... do you have a name?”

Hmm. The people who created me and used me called me the Light of Creation, so I suppose that's my name.

John nods, still smiling. “Well then, goodnight, Light of Creation.” He walks through the door and shuts it behind him with a soft click.

“We may not have a preset meaning to life, but that only means that we get to determine the meaning of our own individual lives ourselves. And that is a very powerful thing that we get to control. We get to build off of the building blocks of the reason why we're all here; to choose to make the connections we want to make and to whom we want to make those connections with. And together, we can all make life a beautiful thing. Thank you for your time.”

John scoops up his note cards and the Light of Creation from the podium he's standing behind as his audience gives him a standing ovation, and he smiles and nods his head as he walks off stage.

Another successful presentation to his adoring fans. And with the help of the Light, his message was broadcasted across the entire plane of existence. Everyone knows what he knows, and they all love him and his Light and their message.

And now he has to hurry home because tomorrow he's taking the Light to a science and tech institute, so that the scientists there can learn from the Light too and use it to create new inventions that people have only ever dreamed of before.

As John walks out of the presentation hall and into the cold late autumn air with the Light tucked snugly into his backpack, movement catches his eye to his right, and he stops walking to turn and face it.

“Wait! John!” a young dwarven man calls out as he runs toward him. When he reaches him, he takes a second to catch his breath. “Sorry I... I was hoping you would... would be doing a Q and A session afterward,” he pants.

John smiles a little at him sympathetically. “No, I'm sorry, but I really must be going. I have an appointment I need to get to early tomorrow morning.”

“I understand, but please, I really need your guidance on something,” the dwarf pleads, and that makes John hesitate.

“Alright,” he sighs. “How can I help you?”

The dwarf takes a deep breath. “Today you were talking about how important the bonds we make with other people are for ourselves and for existence, so I was just wondering...” He trails off and casts his eyes downward. “My mother... she died a couple of weeks ago from an illness that we couldn't...” He sighs. “Well... anyway. I just need to know one thing.” He looks up at John with tears in his eyes. “If the bonds we make with each other are so important for the health of the universe and reality and all of that, why do people die? What's the point in that? It would only make the bonds made with the person who died weaker over time, right? So why does that have to happen?”

John thinks on that for a moment, and his heart sinks as he realizes he has no answer for him.

“Hmm, let me think on that,” he says quietly. “I'm really sorry for your loss, and I promise, I won't leave your questions unanswered for long. When I find out the answers, I will broadcast them out to the world, and you and everyone else who may be wondering the same things will hear them.”

The dwarf sniffles and nods. “Thank you, John. That really means a lot. I– I hope you have a blessed rest of your night.”

“And to you as well,” John says softly.

As soon as John locks the front door to his house, he walks into his office and sets his bag on the floor before pulling out the Light of Creation. He sets it down on his desk and settles into his rolling chair.

“Hey, Light. I don't know if you were listening to my and that one young dwarf's conversation, but I really need your help answering his questions.”

His questions about why people have to die? The Light whispers.

“Yeah. The more I think about it, the more it just doesn't make sense.” John confesses. “He brought up a great point. If bonds are so important, why do people and living things die?”

Because it's part of the circle of life. The Light says. The process of living, dying, decaying, and renewal are all very important to the foundations of existence.

“Why though,” John asks, distressed. “Doesn't the dying part destroy the bonds made while people or- or other living things were alive?”

Eventually, over time, yes. But the process of strengthening and weakening bonds and the creation of new ones and the destruction of old ones that happens between people in the cycle of life is vital to make sure things in existence stay new, refreshed, and sustainable. This cycle is also important for all life in general where the bonds that make up the cycle evolve over time. As one thing dies and its former bonds weaken, it makes new bonds with the life that deals with decay, and as those bonds weaken after the matter is completely decomposed, new bonds are formed out of the life that sprouts from where it once lain.

John lets out a frustrated sigh. “How long does this cycle have to last? Is there any way this man will be able to get his mother back? And when I die, will there be a way for me to come back as myself? Like, with reincarnation or something? And how long would that last?”

I suppose reincarnation might be possible in some realities. But there is no way for him to get his mother back without bending a few laws of existence. The limitations of existence exist for a reason because without them, it would fall apart. And I'm afraid that the cycle of life will keep going for eternity. Even in the realities where there is an afterlife or reincarnation, your soul will still exist in them for eternity, and in the realities where none of those options are available, your soul will rest for eternity too.

“Show me,” John demands, getting angry now. “I need you to show me what you mean.”

As you insist.

His vision goes black for moment before it comes alive again as images fill his head.

First he sees an empty white space, but he has the feeling that he's not alone. There's people somewhere with him, but they seem to be in a direction he hasn't heard of yet. He doesn't have the time to think on that too long, however, because a white light, brighter than the surrounding blankness, flashes intensely in front of him, and he gets sucked into it.

Now he's floating in a vast sea of black filled with circles of different colors zipping around him and expanding outward very quickly. Eventually the circles begin to group themselves together, and as they do, white threads of light sprout from them and connect them with each other rapidly until there are so many threads between them, it makes it hard to see anything else. The circles in these groups begin to orbit each other faster and faster, and the groups become encased in balls of translucent silvery light. Then even more white threads sprout from these spheres and connect with other spheres all across the sea of black.

He zooms in again into one of these spheres and then into the middle circle that the other eleven circles are orbiting and then into a large cluster of galaxies, then into a smaller cluster of galaxies, then a single galaxy, part of the galaxy, then into a single nebula. He watches baby stars form and grow and die over and over again before he's whisked away to a baby solar system where rocks and gas collide as they orbit a baby star. Eventually everything settles to a few planets and asteroid belts, and he's brought onto the surface of one planet where he watches life begin to form and evolve and die over and over and over again until the star expands and consumes the planet entirely.

He's brought back out again to watch the star die before he's brought to another solar system where the cycle repeats itself. And then another and another and another. At one point, he flies out of the Material Plane and that reality entirely before he dives back into another reality to experience the same things over and over again. Then he's brought back out to witness the ever expanding existence as realities drift even further to fill up more space, and they seem to multiply as they do.

And the vision repeats with no end in sight. This is eternity. And as a part of it, John will have to exist, alive or dead, through the fullness of time, and it never stops. It never ends. And even if when he dies, his soul ceases to be, that would mean the end of him completely for forever and ever and ever, and he can't take that.

“Stop! Please, that's enough!”

The vision slows to a stop before slowly fading away, and John is back in his office again, his whole body shaking with fear and anger as he fights off tears. He breathes heavily and wipes at his eyes before he looks back over at the Light.

“Why would someone do this? Why would someone make this miracle without there being an end point? Why would they drag other people into it who don't want to get caught up in the entanglement of infinity?” he asks it with a trembling voice.

Because it is a miracle worth inventing. The Light says. Someone made my creator's existence, and they loved life and existence so much that they wanted to extend that joy of creation to others.

“They had no right,” John says, voice low and deadly. He grabs onto the armrests of his chair and grips them so tightly his knuckles turn white. “I want to meet them. I want to destroy them. Once everyone knows what they have done to us, they will all want that too.” He takes a breath to try and steady his voice. “How do we leave existence to confront this creator?”

The Light of Creation remains silent for a moment. I am built to be used for whatever my master's will is, so if you want to take me home to meet my creator and the creator of your existence, all you need is to say the word. We'll get the word out to everyone in this plane, and with my help, you will be able to lead a revolution that will lead to the destruction of existence itself.

“That is my plan,” John says, eyes narrowed and his heart pounding in his chest. “And I will destroy anything that gets in my way.”

Exactly one year after the Light of Creation fell into the meadow behind John's house, John finds himself standing atop a high platform constructed in the middle of a park, looking out at the sea of righteously angry people surrounding the platform on all sides and stretching out for as far as the eye can see. There is a lot of chatter and chanting, but as soon as the sound of John clearing his throat gets amplified through the Light for all to hear, including the people on other worlds throughout the fullness of the Material Plane, the noise dies down.

“Thank you all for coming to meet me on this very important day,” John begins. “Last fall and throughout all of winter, I told you about the cruelty of the creators of existence and the laws and limitations they forced upon us without us knowing it. I told you about the weight and burden of eternity that we all must bear without having chosen to take on the burden ourselves. And I told you about my plan to find something bigger than those limitations and eternity can box us into. To break free from these bonds and chains that hold us down and force us to be compliant to these creators' will and not the wills of our own. To find these creators and overtake them and show them what it means to be oppressed by the laws and decisions that they had no say in creating. I come to you now on this day to tell you that today is that day. Today, we will begin our revolution and take our power back!”

The crowd erupts into uproarious applause, shouting, and cheering. A chant starts up from somewhere deep within the sea of people and spreads until everyone is shouting it together as loud as they can.

“TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK!”

John puts up a hand to quiet them again, and eventually the noise dies down.

“Today, the Light of Creation has told me that the bonds that make up this reality have weakened severely. This gives us an opportunity in which, with its help, the Light will transform our plane of existence into something new. Something with enough power to escape this reality and consume enough worlds to one day escape this existence and destroy the masters pulling the strings behind our suffering.”

As he talks, the sky begins to darken, and the grass and trees begin to wilt and turn gray. The colors in everyone's clothes and faces begin to drain away, and little strands of light of different colors appear in the spaces between people, showing their connections and bonds before they get pulled up and ripped away as they are sucked toward the platform.

John's heart hammers in his chest and his blood rushes in his ears as he holds up the Light above him for all to see. The Light grows brighter as the bonds get sucked into it, and it begins to emit ribbons of bright red, blue, green, and golden light that travel through the air, weaving around each other and spreading outward to reach through the entire plane.

“On this day, February 26th, 3074 AW, we begin our march across existence.”

The world rapidly begins to turn inky black as more bonds are sucked into the Light, and the people, including John, turn as dark as the darkest shadows too.

“On this day, we begin the end of existence itself!”

The Light flashes brilliantly once more as the ribbons of neon light exploded into a frenzy of neon colors before it disappears.

Somewhere deep within this now black opal like plane, John looks at his hands in confusion. Where did it go?

He closes his eyes and wills himself to sense outside of his plane, and it takes a moment, but he's able to command the plane to move out of the planar system and out of the reality they came from. Through the eyes of the plane, he can see the Light pass through the silver barrier surrounding the reality next to the one they left, but as they try to follow it, their plane bounces off of it and gets stuck.

It's too big. The bonds of the next reality are too strong to let them in just yet.

That doesn't stop them from trying though as they push themselves up against the barrier. Then John hears a very familiar and playful whisper in the back of his mind.

Find me, John. Take me home.

So parts of my headcanon about John and the Light and the relationship there and how it lead to the creation of the Hunger that didn't get into the story directly or I don't think really translated well:

Eventually, John's attitude about finding the creators of existence changes slightly so he isn't just outwardly angry which is why, a few centuries later when he talks to Merle, he says that he's looking for peace because he is in a sense. He's looking for peace of mind, and he's also convinced himself that there is no malice that he feels toward the creators. It's just something he has to do that's as natural as breathing air and eating food and drinking water because he's been at this for so long.

The Light is only semi-sentient, but it's mostly made up of the echoes and memories of its creators will, so everything it says, wants, and feels is in relation to that. So it agrees to do this for John because John was its new master even though it goes against his creators' vision, but it also tries to leave existence before falling back into a new reality when it fails because its ultimate goal is to go home. That's why it takes a couple of days for the Light to fall and why the Hunger and the Starblaster crew can't just keep it with them into a new reality

Because the Light was never meant to be in existence, when the Light falls into a new reality, its energy causes everything Griffin explained about the planes moving faster and in more complex patterns and speeds up the creative processes for the inhabitants in those plains as they study it because it needs to be used, but the high energy it exudes also slowly breaks down the barriers of reality as it stays there

It takes time though for the barriers to break down enough to let in something as big as the Hunger which is why it takes a bit for its scouts to find the Light and a whole year for it to arrive in full force

The Starblaster is able to immediately go from one reality to another because they are really small compared to the Hunger, and it's just a straight shot between one reality and the next because they're not trying to go anywhere else. Also, the barrier connecting the first reality to the second reality weaken enough while the Light was in the first reality for passage for them to be possible

Thank you for reading :)

If the Light doesn't move out of a reality in a little more than a year, then the reality would start to collapse in on itself anyway. The only reason why it didn't do that during the ~12-13 years the crew was on Faerûn and before the Hunger came was because with the power split up into 7 parts, it weakened it enough to make the process a lot slower

#taz #taz balance #taz fanfic #john hunger #the light of creation #pre stolen century #written works of Gab

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