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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

He Calls Me Honey Tits

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Here’s the third and last part of you and Arthur being lovers during his time in the whorehouse! In which this cheeky bastard slathers honey on your tits and teases you and pleases you until you’ve never been so damn aroused 🙃🍯💦

Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Brothel Boy Arthur being a cheeky little shit (licking honey off your tits, eating you out and denying you his dick until you beg for it)

Word Count: ~2.2k

… Continued from Part 2 [Read Here]

“How may I be of service, honeybee?”

The beaming blue-eyed bastard leads you to his bedchamber and softly shuts the door. Though he’s the brothel boy it feels like you’re the whore. You’re far more smitten in his presence than you want to be.

Sensing the indignation fuming off your body, Arthur smirks as if it’s funny. “Anybody ever told you that you’re lovely when you’re huffy?”

Suddenly, your cunt lips feel swollen and puffy. Slick as if this cheeky thief had dipped his finger in your honey. Try to stay composed and classy. “You can’t work your charms to get your petty crime past me. This is about the money.”

“But of course it is. Just business.” Arthur winks and it’s without a doubt the wickedest shit you have ever witnessed.

Keep your wits before he sucks you deeper into this—whatever this shit is. “You said that we could meet at your place to sort out the fucking payment. Here I am to fucking claim it.”

“Ohh, she bites,” he taunts like he has any right. “Such nasty language from a mouth so nice. Love, what’s your price? Just name it.”

“I am not your love!” you furiously huff.

“Not yet. But I’d bet just the thought has got your honeypot all wet.”

Did he just—he just—sweet mother of Jesus—

“Mmm, I’d love a taste,” he teases. Sea-blue gaze mirrors the lust that’s written all across your face. “Can’t let such honey go to waste.”

“You’ve stolen quite enough already, I daresay.”

His voice is steady, yet his cock is raging madly as he steps so close that you can almost feel it. “Didn’t steal it. You just let it slip away.”

All your dignity and self-restraint, that is. Such is the picture that his passionate words paint; he’s driving you to fucking madness. Sheer destruction through seduction is this little bastard’s favorite game to play. And he won’t stop until he’s buried in your honeypot today.

***************

Just how this sweet sticky mess ended up spread all across your tits, you can’t quite say.

Fuck it. You’re naked on the boy-whore’s bed with honey slathered on your bare breasts and your cunt is dripping buckets. Blue eyes own you where you lay. Somehow the bastard has convinced you that for what he stole from you today at market, shameless pleasure is the best way to repay.

The session started with a fight over the jar that he had thieved. He taunted you until he wanted you more than he could believe. More than his station in this house even allows. Voices raised, daggers from your gaze. Aroused. Amazed.

Saw how his thirst aligned with yours, as shouts and hisses flung between you turned to roars, and pinned you down onto the bed with feral force. Paused to make certain you were both on the same page. A man of care and caution though the beast in him may rage.

And here and now with words unspoken that blue gaze of his explores. Impales you to the core, seeks out your secret inner whore. All set to free her from your inhibitions’ cage. The truth of you that any other man including your own lawfully wedded pig always ignores.

Do you want to fucking engage?

Of fucking course.

And so you do. Fire and water all at once, this man’s effect upon your cunt, flaming and fluid. This is what true pleasure is, you think as he attacks heavy and hot. Slut for the once and future king of fucking Camelot. Already his, as he claims your lips in a cataclysmic kiss, crashing together in a spell of breathless bliss.

He tastes of courage. Hunger, unfed all the stronger. Poor boy forced to live on stolen scraps and half-full bowls of porridge. Forced to fight and fuck and forage. Forge his way through filth without the faintest clue his royal blood doesn’t belong here. Here with you he’s poor no longer.

First few minutes of your time spent in his bed the boy-whore shatters you to bits.

And now you’re here with stolen honey smeared across your naked tits.

You gasp a giddy laugh at how ridiculous this funny business is. “You cheeky little shit!”

He smirks and lets the now half-empty jar of honey clatter to the floor. Hovering over you all set to make damn sure... that you will always and forever be his filthy little whore. “You know you fucking love it, honey tits.”

No fucking use denying it.

Arthur as well had stripped his shirt off earlier, in those first few seconds of this passionate blur, so you can see and feel the sculpted muscles of his abdomen and chest. He is a god and nothing less. Those chiseled ridges rub against your honey-covered skin and make a fucking mess. His mouth descends deliciously on yours again as skillful hands knead at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Sweet little goddess,” he breathes out amidst the kisses and it’s too much to be honest. King among men making you feel like his queen. “Swear you’re the loveliest damn thing I’ve ever seen. The loveliest.”

The purity—he’s doing you so dirty, loving you so clean. Feel you belong here with him surely, more than anywhere on earth you’ve ever been.

Your fingers fist twined in his glorious gold locks. Hips bucking frantic to seek friction up against the fucking hard bulge of his cock. Still sheathed in cloth as he’s not yet disrobed his lower half, to free his raging shaft—likely to burst right through the fabric since he’s so massive and solid as a rock.

With every second that huge cock of his grows harder, taking your desire farther. Inner slut escapes the cage that he’s unlocked.

“Ughh—fuck me, Arthur...” you cry out, needy and loud, all honey-smothered, hot and bothered. “Fuck...”

His focus shifts off of your lips down to your neck and then your chest and suddenly he starts to suck.

Your mouth gapes wide to make a sound but has no luck.

Choking on air as you surrender to his touch. He’s just too much. Soft lips squeeze tight around your nipple, slurping honey as it dribbles. Grinds the stiffness of his meat against the wet heat of your crotch. Glittering blue eyes glance at you beneath the gold fringe of his lashes, as your body throbs and thrashes. Getting off on the effect he has because he loves to watch.

You moan and whimper, one breast lavished in attention from his slick tongue while he works the other with his skillful fingers. Swipes his thumb across your stiff peak as he teases at the other with the pearl ridge of his teeth until your senses fall apart. “Please, Art...”

The bastard chuckles in a breathy little huff. “Don’t worry, love. Promise I’ll fuck you good and hard,” he reassures you meaning it with all his heart. “Just thought I’d better whet my appetite to start.”

Of course he’d crack a stupid fucking pun, while you’re coming undone. Scrapes his enormous bulge against your aching cunt, with a deep grunt, reminding you what you both want. How hard he’s gotten and how wet you are. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Flattens his tongue against the valley of your cleavage now to slobber up the sugary gold mess that’s gathered there. Licks slowly upward as he owns you with the bright blue of his stare. Honey spreads all across his trimmed blonde beard and sweetens every hair.

Of all the men upon this earth no one has ever been so fair.

Dips in the hollow of your throat, and you damn well nearly explode.

And then those luscious lips are back on yours again. Lose track of where your breathing ends and his begins.

The taste of honey should be overwhelming sweet, but something sweeter yet sparks into being where your soul and his so intimately meet. The hunger only this can feed. Each on the road to being everything the other ever needs. Perhaps not so just yet, but in the moment you first met, he’d planted that passionate seed.

Already want him now to plant another seed deep in your hole. Already know that someday he will fill that role.

But not today—today is all about pure pleasure and the game he came to play.

To claim you as his whore in every goddamned way.

Between kisses you plead with him although it’s such a struggle now to talk. “Please, Arthur—fuck...”

He snickers. That majestic bulge of his harder, and bigger. “Mmm, so pretty when you’re begging for my cock.”

Those words—the sheer filth has you so aroused it hurts—you shut your eyes for fear they’ll pop out of your sockets.

He reminds you now of how you had denied him when he’d asked you for a sample of your product. Shut that door and tried to lock it. On his own terms he had gotten his hands on it, taking what he wanted. Dirty and dishonest. “Wouldn’t let me taste your sweet honey at market. Seems I’ll have to steal that pleasure from your honeypot myself before I fuck it.”

Oh, that’s obscene—wait, does he mean—what—shit...

Upon the bed he shifts, sudden and swift, a blaze of sex, until his lust-crazed gaze is level with the slick between your legs. And that’s when the truth of it hits.

Young Arthur’s hunger for your cunt is even stronger than his hunger for your tits.

The two of you have kissed and licked most of the honey from each other’s mouths by now so that his tongue is mostly clean. And that’s exactly as he wants it so that he can taste the flavor of his lovely future queen.

He’s a complete whore for your flavor. Buries his beautiful face deep in your folds like every precious drop was made for him to savor. All at once delicate yet dominant, as he feasts on your cunt. Art makes an art of it, worshipping every part of it.

Your wetness glistens as it gushes out across his gorgeous features from the second he descends; and yet with him the peak of pleasure’s not the end. Rather the very fucking start of it.

You shout his name, loud without shame, your inner slut unleashed with only him to blame. Your body and soul absolutely his to claim. The stolen honey and the money were just all part of the game; he knows that this is why you came.

Needless to say you need his cock inside you now but he intends to make you beg. He could spend days continuing to feed facedown between your legs.

One of his hands has wandered down to his own crotch to give himself the stimulation he deserves, now as two fingers of his other hand are pumping in your hole, while he devours your cunt whole, lips latching tight around your tender bud of nerves.

Your thousandth wave of pleasure rolls. Scream for his cock until he’s finally stripped himself naked and mounts you with his rippled muscles pressed against your curves.

And now at last uses your body for the purpose it was put on earth to serve.

Your tight hot cunt is so completely fucking soaked, he nearly chokes and almost spills his load inside of you at his first fucking stroke.

Catches his breath and bites his tongue, knowing he can’t hold off for long. Till now he’s never known true home. The women of this brothel housed him and raised him since he was young, yet though he’s grateful for their love he never quite seemed to belong. With you he does as though he’s been here all along. Feels like the whole world is his kingdom. Kingdom finally fucking come.

You’re feeling everything the same. Someday his queen for now his filthy little slut. The flood. The flame. The fluid heat as you’re split open on this man’s majestic meat until you feel his power beating in your blood. The beast in each of you untamed. Such fucking force. His power is all fucking yours. Of fucking course.

Kisses you long and deep and hard, until the white hot bliss that’s burning through him shatters into shards.

Pulls out in time to take his meat in his own fist and spray his seed across your stomach and your chest. Painting you like a work of art. Pearly white gleams against the honey gold that still clings to the soft skin of your breasts. Just from the feel of being coated in his load your throbbing cunt pulses until it falls apart, convulses in a rush of pleasure rooted somewhere in your slutty little heart. You’ve never felt so fucking blessed. Of all the moments of your life to date this is without a doubt the fucking best.

Yet this is all just how it starts. Your days here in the boy-whore’s bed have just begun and you don’t doubt he’ll take you to new heights of ecstasy for all the fucking rest.

He’s feeling everything the same. Smiles and calls you by your name—honey tits.

Knows you fucking love it. Though at first you’d claimed the reason for this visit was just business... clearly that’s not what this is. Business has turned to pleasure just as you both wanted it.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗💗

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

Note

The whole time traveling children has me feelin some type of way tbh. Imagine Mirio, Kaminari, and Tamaki walking into their respective rooms and there are just small children vibing. Mirio with his daughter, Kaminari with a daughter and Tamaki with a son. 😭

as i said, parent!bnha is SUPERIOR

A/N: So, instead of making these separate asks, I’m just going to make it one giant post. I thought it would be easier that way. Probably the only post that’ll have more than three characters lol

Warnings: none

Kaminari Denki:

when kaminari walked into his room, he didn't expect to see two children on his bed fighting like wild animals

the younger girl was totally beating the boy’s ass tho

kinda embarrassing bc she’s gotta be like, seven, at most

as if it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen (bc it’s not) he rushes in to break them apart

he manages to separate them with his arms

the boy with yellow hair snaps his jaws at his sister’s fingers

“hey! bad! no biting!” he scolds

the little girl blows a raspberry and taunts “yeah! papa says no biting!”

the older sibling just rolls his eyes “rat”

meanwhile, denki is literally malfunctioning

papa?

PAPA? HUH???

the only person’s pants (and heart) he’s been trying to get in to for the past three months was y/n’s and he sure as hell would remember if he did

he didn't have kids

especially one that was his age

“sorry! you two are cute, but i’m not your pops”

thus, they begin to tell denki about how they mayhaps followed him and their mother into a dangerous mission and got hit with a time travel quirk

denki just nods his head

tbh, he’s not that weirded out

weirder things have happened

but, he does have one question

“who’s the lucky woman?”

coincidentally, you bust into his dorm room, wet from a recent prank and head steaming with anger

“Kaminari Denki!”

his son juts a thumb over to you

“the woman that’s about to murder you”

“oh say less”

his life literally couldn't get any better

before you get the chance to throttle him, the little girl jumps in your arms and your anger is immediately quelled

“hey mommy! i just wanna let you know that it was [son’s name]’s fault that we followed you when you told us not to”

“WHAT!?”

you’re to busy trying to get them from killing each other to comprehend anything that’s going on

kaminari is in a love-struck gaze bc hot damn, he won the jackpot, huh?

if he wasn't in love with you before, he’s in love with you now

you and your feral children

it was nice being God’s favorite

Kirishima Eijirou:

funny thing was

kirishima woke up from his afternoon nap with his mini-me in his arms!

at first, he was really confused as to why there was an 8 yr old boy with spiky teeth and (your hair texture) black hair on his bed

he thought he was dreaming

then the little boy bit his nose and grinned like he had done the funniest thing in the world

“WAKE UP DADDY! WE GOTTA GET SWOL TODAY”

did he get hit with some duplication quirk?

and what was that he said...daddy?

as in, father?

kirishima is wide awake now, but before he can ask the kid what’s going on, the boy is up and making use of his punching bag

he decides it wouldn't hurt to get a morning work out in, so he decides to humor the kid

after a mini workout, kirishima is in near tears as the boy tries to flex the little muscles he has

eventually, he gets the kid to tell him what happened and finds out he was hit with a time travel quirk of some sort

instead of being weirded out, kirishima is ESCTATIC

he has a family in the future

he’s so excited and proud that he just has to show his son off to his friends!

the first thing he does is go and bother bakusquad in the common room

he’s bragging like shit to them and his ego swells as they all swoon over how cute and handsome the kid is

you and bakugo come out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about and the little boy excitedly runs to you and jumps into your arms

“momma! you’re here! you’re so pretty! why’d you marry daddy when he looks so unswol?”

it’s silent before bakugo fucking dies of laughter

“y-you finally let shitty hair hit it? and got knocked up?? LMAO”

everyone’s dying and kirishima wants to die

he can’t believe this was how his long-term crush on you was getting outted

by an 8 yr old boy

so not manly

you look confused before you put the pieces together

the kid did look like you and kirishima

you want to console kirishima about the crush that you lowkey knew he had on you, but your son was one step ahead of you

with a gracious smile, he hits bakugo’s head

hard

“what the fuck kid!?”

“don’t make fun of daddy, uncle bakugo! at least daddy didn’t faint at his wedding″

Bakugo’s contemplating murder and everyone’s rolling on the floor

“WE BEEN KNEW YOU WERE THE BIGGEST SIMP”

even ten years later, bakugo still holds a grudge against your son

Togata Mirio:

i’m about to kill y’all w this one

since year one, mirio has been feigning over you

but 1) you were too dumb to notice 2) you both were really busy with, y’know, school and 3) he lowkey gave up bc he thought you deserved better

so imagine his surprise when he sees this four year old girl on his bed

and she looks like you with his features

mirio might not be the brightest crayon in the crayon box

but he’s got eyes

and it wasn't like he’s memorized your features to the T

the tiny girl is swinging her legs absent-mindedly before exploding with happiness when he sees him

she runs to mirio and he catches her with open arms

“daddy! daddy! i got hit with the coolest quirk at school today!”

proceeds to tell him about her best friend discovered her quirk and it was a teleportation quirk

mirio can’t help but giggle along with her even tho he knew it was a scary situation for the parents

speaking of which...

he innocently asks her who’s the mom

“mommy is the prettiest mommy in the world! she has e/c eyes, hair like me, and the most beautiful s/c skin! her name is togata y/n!”

if he wasn't geeking before, he’s geeking now

not only did he manage to marry you, but you let him be your baby daddy?

him?

big bet

mirio doesn't even care at this point

he’s parading around UA with the fattest smile as he introduces his daughter to damn near everyone

everyone’s freaking out bc wtf when did mirio get someone pregnant??

maybe he should've explained himself, but he sees you at your locker and makes a b-line for you

“good morning, y/n!”

he doesn't notice that you slam your locker close and hide the confession letter you wrote to him behind your back

you’re a stuttering mess and he’s too busy basking in the fact that he’s holding y’alls child

y’all look like a mess

but he’s ready to lay it on thick when the little girl kisses your nose and cheers,

“mommy, i missed you”

he explains the situation

you cant help but smile, “you know this could potentially ruin the timeline?”

and you feel like melting as he gives you the softest smile

“there’s no way I’m letting that happen. not when i end up with the woman i’m in love with. we’ll just have to twist fate together”

and twist it you did

Tamaki Amajiki:

tamaki wasn't the bravest person ever

and he knew his crippling anxiety got in the way of a lot

but he had never been more proud of himself for managing to invite you to his room

it was supposed to be a study date

despite how bold you normally were, he took comfort in how nervous you seemed

now, you two were leaning in, about to kiss

and then a voice from behind interrupts

“uh, am i interrupting something?”

you two let out the ugliest squeal and jump 50 feet away from each other

you’re all over the place, trying to explain the situation

tamaki’s heart is barely beating at this point

it takes the kid, who looks about 16, about thirty minutes to calm you down and revive tamaki

explains that he’s from the future and a descendant of tamaki’s family

decides to leave out that you two are his parents so he doesn't risk possibly erasing himself from the space continuum

that would be bad

despite how surprised you two were, you two take it rather well

you three spend the day together bc you and tamaki feel this weird sense of responsibility for the guy even though he’s only two years younger

the boy is trying his hardest not to expose himself, but it’s so hard

you two are asking him everything from his favorite food to if he has any siblings

he’s good at pretending that he’s cool, calm, and collected, but he wants nothing more than to jump into his parents’ arms and cry about how scared he is of messing up

but he won’t

bc he’s a strong boy

but he slips up

“how far are you down the future?” tamaki asks

“uh, about like 100 years or so--”

“you’re lying”

the kid nearly chokes on his food as his father blinks at him

you try and scold tamaki but he continues

“i don’t mean to be mean, but your nose twitches when you lie. y/n does the same thing”

that’s when the jazz record stops and everyone is staring at one another

“....wait”

this time, you nearly pass out

y’all had a kid together???

THE HELL??

the boy, coincidentally, starts fading and he thinks he fucked up

now he’s full out sobbing into the both of your chests, scared that he’s disappearing

despite the news, you and tamaki calm down, look at each other, and hold your son

“don’t you worry, baby” you coo, kissing his fading hair

“i have a feeling we’ll see you quite soon” tamaki comforts, closing his eyes

Bakugo Katsuki:

bakugo finally understood when his mom said

“the meaner you are to your parents, the nastier your kids will be to you”

he regretted being such a demon bc his kid was literally the spawn of satan

katsuki didn’t need an explanation to know that that...thing was his kid

he looked damn near identical to him with features that he couldn't quite place

but anyways, that wasn't the focus rn

rn, he was trying to figure out a way to keep that animal caged

as soon as katsuki took his eyes off him, the six yr old ran out the door as fast as his little legs could carry him

“catch me if you can, you old bastard!”

yup, it was his kid

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE FUCKER”

his son is blasting his way through the halls, skillfully evading Katsuki’s grabbing hands

he’s wildly laughing as he flips and turns through the doors, watching with glee as his father falls on his face

multiple times

the small boy latches on to a cupboard and smirks

“no wonder mom always beats your ass! you weak!”

katsuki nearly looks like the devil, eyes white, and face red with fury

his pride suffering by the second

he’s about to cuss the kids to hell when you come out of the kitchen, confused

you were about to ask why katsuki looked like a rat with rabies before you caught sight of a basket of fruit teetering on the edge of the cabinet, above the little boy’s head

“look out--”

the basket falls on the kid’s head and he’s on the floor, reeling from the hit

katsuki would've normally laughed his ass off, but he felt kind of...concerned?

he watches you run towards the child who’s trying his hardest not to cry

the boy holds his head, fat tears in his eyes as you pick him up and coddle over him

“i’m sorry, baby. I'm sorry i didnt get there in time”

cue the waterworks

the boy is full-on sobbing into your chest about how his head hurts

you bounce him and kiss his forehead as katsuki checks over the red bump

“you’ll be okay, brat” he comforts, voice softer than usual

in that moment, katsuki can’t help but notice how much a family y’all look like rn

then the dots start connecting and he goes

oh shit

so, maybe, he’s had a tiny crush on you

and it didn’t help that you two were friends with benefits bc yall were horny teenagers

but who knew he’d get the balls to ask you out on a proper date one day

he was such a simp for you gosh it was ugly

“you have to be more careful from now on,” you say to the boy

the brat suddenly looks innocent and katsuki wants to throw him

“sorry, mommy. i’ll be gooder”

the look on your face is priceless

bakugo uses it as a chance to kiss you

“huh?”

“i guess now’s a good time to tell you that i want to be your dick on demand but with feelings and shit, dumbass”

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arotechno · 3 years

Text

Jughead (2015), Issues 1-6: Discussion and Commentary

"I am like unto a god, Archie Andrews. Respect me as such."

Recently re-typed and ready to go, here is a broad discussion of the first volume of the Jughead reboot comic series. I was originally going to review each issue individually, but given that the first six comprise one story arc, I decided to do the whole volume in one go. That means this is a bit crunched for time and therefore not quite as in-depth as I wanted to go! But I encourage you to read the comics for yourself, if you are able.

This will not be spoiler-free, for the record! The images here are taken from my own copy using my phone, so they're not the best quality! But they also aren't especially crucial to this commentary, so you'll have to bear with me.

I just really like the inside cover art for this volume, alright (it's also the cover of issue 5)? I can't help it, I'm aro, I see heart imagery and something in my brain goes haywire.

When we first meet Jughead at the beginning of Volume 1, he comes off as lazy and apathetic, at least on the surface. After an all-nighter of playing video games, Jughead is dragged to school by Archie. There, they find that Betty has started a new campaign to save Fox Forest, a beloved local greenspace that is being threatened by Veronica’s wealthy father, Mr. Lodge. Jughead is… not very interested in Betty’s cause, to put it politely. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Fox Forest, but he does not believe that Mr. Lodge would be convinced to change his mind by a petition. He tells Betty as such, and she remarks that he lives a very hollow life.

“Man, you’re so cynical,” Archie tells him. “Is there anything you’d actually fight for?”

The answer is yes. What ultimately gets Jughead to fight for something? Food—well, kind of, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

When Archie and Jughead get to class, they learn that the principal of Riverdale High, Mr. Weatherbee, is being replaced out of the blue by a new guy called Stanger. Stanger is a stiff, serious type, and he immediately starts making changes: new uptight teachers, a strict dress code, new bootcamp-esque curriculum, and most importantly, supposedly nutritious slop to replace the food in the cafeteria.

This sends Jughead down a bit of a rebellious path—he’s not a rule-breaker, but he’s perfectly comfortable with bending the rules in his favor while narrowly skirting around getting into trouble. He starts selling burgers in the cafeteria, with the proceeds benefitting Betty’s fundraiser for Fox Forest.

(Hell yeah, Jughead, unionize that student body! Sell those burgers! You have nothing to lose but your chains!)

This stunt gets Jughead on Stanger’s bad side immediately, and a slowly simmering feud between them ultimately boils over when Stanger plants a knife in Jughead’s backpack to get him expelled. Thankfully, his dad is able to talk his sentence down to a week’s suspension, but that doesn’t stop his friends (and his mother) from worrying about him.

As an aside, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate Mr. Jones.

“Something’s off here and I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure Jughead didn’t bring a knife to school. My boy’s weird, but he’s not a criminal.”

I really like this line from him to Betty. He clearly knows his son and is willing to stand up for him, and it’s comforting to me, especially viewing the story through the lens of Jughead being aroace, that Mr. Jones is not at all bothered by his son being a bit on the strange side, as long as he’s still a good kid. Nothing but respect for Forsythe Jones II in this house.

Something fun and unique about this volume in particular is that in every issue, Jughead either falls asleep or passes out, and has an elaborate imaginative dream about the events of the story. In one he’s a pirate, for example, and in another he’s visited by a descendant of Archie’s from the future, who belongs to the time police. But towards the end of the volume, the line between these daydreams and reality seem to blur for Jughead. He comes to the conclusion in one particular nightmare that Stanger is trying to brainwash them all into becoming mindless agents for his evil organization—and then he realizes he may not be that far off from the truth.

Jughead brings this realization—that Stanger is using the school as a sort of training ground for secret agents—up to his friends, and understandably, they aren’t convinced. They worry that the compounded exhaustion of multiple all-nighters playing games and the stress of being suspended has started to get to Jughead, but he vows to prove it to them.

I mean, damn, Betty, that kind of hurts. (Don’t worry, Betty is actually a good friend, as I’m sure we’ll get into later in the series.)

To make a long story short (and to avoid spoiling the entire plot for those who haven’t read it!), Jughead does find proof, and once he does, his friends are immediately on board. They are ultimately able to save the day, and once it’s revealed that Stanger and the new teachers are ex-CIA trying to brainwash the students (no, seriously), Mr. Weatherbee is re-instated as principal and things return to normal.

I’m leaving out a lot of nuanced details, mostly for the sake of time, but there are a lot of surprisingly weighty moments to this first arc, and Zdarsky’s character writing is incredibly endearing and funny, while still hitting the serious moments when it needs to. There’s an interesting underlying commentary in this arc about military recruitment and U.S. propaganda; Stanger says that he specifically chose Riverdale because the students are so average. There’s something to be said here about the way the military industrial complex preys on average or underprivileged teenagers to convince them to serve when they feel they have no better path to take. It’s an almost funnily serious commentary for Zdarsky to make with a seemingly silly and off-beat comic series, and I respect him for that.

(If you recognize this panel, it’s because it appears on the page where Jughead’s asexuality is canonized. What a good page. So good that nobody ever points out this panel.)

By the end of Volume 1, we see that Jughead maybe isn’t as apathetic and careless as he seemed to be. Sure, he got up in arms about food of all things in the beginning, but it stopped being about food very quickly, once he realized that something truly messed up was going on. And it bothers him, deeply—at one point, the gravity of the situation begins to weigh on him so heavily that he nearly gives up entirely, convinced that there is nothing they can do and that they ought to just lie low until they make it out. But he does end up making things right, with the help of his friends, and in the end, he does decide to help Betty out after all. It’s the least he can do, really. You do get the impression that although Jughead’s friends often don’t take him seriously, they’ll always have his back when it counts—and he’ll do the same for them, even if he’ll insist on being a bit snarky about it.

(That slightly cynical attitude is still there, though, and truthfully, Jughead wouldn’t be the same without it.)

To close out, I am just going to share some of my favorite panels/quotes that didn’t fit elsewhere, including some choice Aro Moods. I hope this (admittedly brief) discussion of Volume 1 convinces you to read the comics, and to join me again when I cover the next arc. Until then, cheers to Chip and Erica.

Jughead’s attitude towards Archie’s romantic problems will never not be funny to me. He’s just like “RIP to you but I’m different.”

Kevin. :/ Kevin come on, man. Mr. Zdarsky, sir, this is character assassination. (Jughead’s face in the corner is a reasonable reaction.)

This one’s gone around so many times before (as have a bunch of other aro moments that I don’t think I need to bother re-posting here), but I just think it’s neat. Don’t worry, Betty lets go.

Aaand lastly, I just really like this line from Jughead. “The world is out of our hands, pal. You just gotta make your own weird way in it.” That we do, Jughead. That we do.

#my god the pain i went through to write this #aro #aromantic #aro jughead #ace jughead #aroace jughead #long post #jughead jones #ooohhh i'm gonna make shitterdale stans sooo angry #jughead comics #techno's jughead reread #<- tag for this little series #op

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 1

Female Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Note: First fic I'm posting. Be gentle. I have a tendency to edit my stuff to death, but i'm gonna fight it. Anyway. This is the first chapter of a Mortal Kombat reader insertion fic. Takes place a few years before the new 2021 movie. Feel free to send me questions, concerns, comments, whatever. But remember this is for fun.

A mix of voices slowly stirred you. You didn’t understand what they were saying. A mumbling. Hushed. And as you finally became aware that you had woken up, it took everything in you to just open your eyes.

Cold. It was so cold. You could feel your body begin to shiver. As you looked up at the ceiling, you noticed immediately, even with heavily blurred vision, that this was not your ceiling. Or any ceiling you knew.

The familiar wave of anxiety crashed over you. Every nerve in your being came to life as adrenaline was instantly pumped through your veins. Where were you? You moved to sit up. Your head spun. Your stomach came up to your chest. A weak cry escaped you as you fell back on what you thought was a table.

The voices silenced. You had only just noticed that before you heard footsteps coming closer. The sound of fabric flapped.

You were holding your head as you dared to open your eyes and see only a vague, unfocused image of someone standing over you. “Wh-... Who are you?” You could barely speak.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now,” a soft, masculine voice answered.

You didn’t feel like protesting. Your head… Your head was throbbing. You’d had headaches before, but this took the cake. This was the blue ribbon of headaches. You felt your stomach lurch again. You gagged. Oh no, you thought. Your mouth watered. Oh no, you dreaded. You knew it was coming. “Bu-... Bucket-!” You barely got the word out as you rolled to your side and stomach acid spewed from your mouth.

Whoever was standing there had seen it coming. Perhaps your skin turned white or green just before it happened. It all went into a bucket… At least you thought it was a bucket. “It’s okay. Let it out,” the man soothed. You felt a hand begin to rub your back, and that alone was enough to fire off your nerves and make you hurl again. “That’s it. Take your time.”

You must have thrown up at least twice more before you began dry heaving. Nothing left to come up. Rolling onto your back, your breath was labored, chest rising just to fall like a brick landed on it, repeatedly. Oh, God, what the hell happened?

You’d passed out.

You’d woken again to voices. This time, they were more clear. You still couldn’t make out the words exactly, but you knew they were words at least. Eyes opening, they slowly focused. The ceiling was definitely not yours. It was stone… A cave? Orb lanterns hung above you to light the room. Your head was only slightly less throbbing. Slowly, ssslllooowwwlllyyy, you pushed yourself up. Something pulled at your hand. Looking to it, you noticed an IV line. What the hell? Who put that in your hand? Your head spun, but thankfully not nearly as bad as before. You could handle it.

“Oh! You’re up!” A voice called. You turned your head to see… a monk? Was he a monk? What the hell was a monk doing here?... Where was here? “Yes. Good. You’re up,” he said, with an accent and mild broken english. He stopped at the side of the table you sat on and bowed his head. “How do you feel? Should I grab another bucket?” He asked, voice full of concern.

God, you felt awful. Like the hangover from hell. You shook your head to the monk and held your head. “Where am I?” you croaked.

“Ah. Good. You’re speaking much better now.” He was nodding. “Where you are is not important right now. Please, tell me how you feel.”

“What?... No, where am I?” You insisted.

The monk had frowned, but seemed to have expected some protest. “You are in the temple of Lord Raiden. He sent for you after he sensed your danger.” “What? Lord who?” You rubbed your head and finally looked up at the monk, your brows knotted in confusion.

“Lord Raiden. A very generous Lord. He protects Earthrealm--your homeword.”

“My what?” What the hell was this guy talking about?

He seemed troubled suddenly. How could he explain simply… There was no simplicity in this situation. “Forgive me. You’re safe. You are among friends. Please…” He turned and reached for a side table where a clay pitcher sat. He poured water into a clay cup and offered it with such grace.

You took it. “Thanks…” Something about accepting drinks from strange men went through your mind as you looked into the cup. It looked like water. It smelled like… well, nothing. Did water even have a scent? You hesitantly took the tiniest sip you could… It tasted like nothing. Maybe it was water.

But he sensed your suspicion. He poured another cup, making sure you watched him, and then drank the cup dry. He showed you the empty cup to prove it.

You looked to your cup. To him. To the pitcher. Back to your cup. Well, if he would drink it… You took a committed sip and let the water wash over your mouth and down your irritated throat. It must have gotten burned when you threw up. You finished the cup and looked back to the monk. He held out his hand with a smile. You handed him the cup. He refilled it. He handed it back. You drank from it again, more comfortably.

“Yes. Good. Not too much. Don’t want it coming back up,” he said and sat the pitcher back on the side table. He gave you a grateful bow, for what, you didn’t know, and stepped away. “You gave us quite a scare when you got here,” he spoke as he ruffled through old cabinets and old clay jars on the other side of the room. “You’re lucky to be alive. Thankfully your arcana surfaced just in time, by what I was told.”

Your what? You eyed the pitcher of water again, then the IV still stuck in your hand. You ripped it out with a small grunt and tossed it to the floor. Looking up to the IV bag, you reached and turned it over to read the label. It was a simple saline. A breath of relief escaped you. At least it wasn’t something harmful.

“Yes. Very lucky indeed. Fortune favors you, I see. Very good.”

The hell was this old man talking about? You reached for the pitcher as he went on and poured yourself some more water.

“Lord Raiden will certainly be pleased that you’ve recovered. Oh…” He paused, a look of realization crossed his face. “I should send word to him that you’ve woken again. This time for the better it seems.” He left the cabinets and walked over to the curtain that separated this room from a small hallway. He stuck his head out and began calling out, “Brother Zhao! Please send word to Lord Raiden! Our guest has woken! She seems well!”

Brother Zhao? Where the hell—

“Yes. Good.” He was back at the cabinets again. “Here we go.” He finished with whatever it was and walked back over to you with a bowl, offering it to you.

Looking into the bowl, your brows rose at the sight of some sort of… goop. You looked to him, at a loss of what it was.

“Ah. Yes. Okay. For your head. Taste awful, but works good. Just a bite.”

Your expression only changed slightly, but the volume was much higher. No way where you going to eat that. What even was it?

“No? Okay.” He set the bowl on the side table next to the pitcher. “It’s here if you change your mind.”

Unlikely, you thought. But your head continued to throb.

“Perhaps food then?” He asked, and you suddenly became very aware of your very empty stomach. “Dinner will be served soon. I’m sure there will be something there you like.”

You had to change the subject. Your stomach had awoken with the offer of food. “Who are you?” You asked.

“I am Brother Feng,” He answered with modesty.

“So... This is a temple. You must be a monk?” You questioned.

“Yes!” He answered in soft glee. “I serve Lord Raiden.”

“Who is Lord Raiden?”

“He is the watcher and protector of Earthrealm.”

“So… Like a god?”

“God. Yes.”

“Okay. So, this is a religious temple?”

“No.”

Your head was spinning again, but this time in sheer confusion.

“Not religious as you know. It is merely a shelter for the Order of Light.”

“Order of Light?”

“Yes.”

“Which is…?”

“The warriors of Earthrealm.”

“Right…” Of course. How could you be so thick, you thought with heavy sarcasm. “Are there other… realms?”

“Yes. Many.”

“How many?”

“I do not know exactly… Most have been destroyed. They no longer exist as they once did. Barren. Empty.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, that is a long story. Too long for me to explain in one sitting. I’m sure Lord Raiden will tell you everything himself.”

“He’s going to talk to me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Like… He’s a person? I thought gods were spiritual.”

“He is both.”

You weren’t sure what to say. What could you say? You were going to meet a god… or someone anyway. “Okay,” Was the only word that left your mouth before you sipped from your cup.

A knock came at the wall on the other side of the curtain and Brother Feng turned to answer. With his head poked out to see who it was, he spoke with controlled joy. “Master Liu. Wonderful. Did Lord Raiden send you?”

“Brother Feng,” A soft voice answered behind the curtain. “Yes. He was told she had awoken?”

“Yes, yes! Come.” Brother Feng had stepped aside and a much younger, much more handsome man walked into the room. He wore a black, sleeveless gi with a red sash tied around his waist. In his left hand was a string of prayer beads he seemed to be idly fidgeting with. His deep brown eyes found you instantly and to your surprise, he bowed at the waist to you.

“I am Liu Kang. I come on behalf of Lord Raiden. He wishes to speak with you if you are well enough.” His voice was so controlled, yet so relaxed and smooth. You could tell he was a man of well manners… perhaps a monk himself? He did have prayer beads. But damn, he was just too handsome to be a monk.

Wait. What? What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this guy!

He was easy on your eyes though. How could you not notice.

“Miss…?” His concern pulled you from your head.

“Oh. Sorry. I just… Headache,” you admitted. It was only a tiny lie. You’d gotten distracted. But you did have a headache. Was that bad? You were in a temple? Did they know it was a lie?

“Perhaps I should return later,” Liu Kang suggested, not at all seeming upset with the idea. “After you rest some more.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to this guy. He just oozed patience. “N-no. It’s okay. I can speak with him.”

Liu Kang’s concern was drowned by a small smile. He bowed his head and stepped aside with a gentlemanly gesture towards the curtain. “After you. Please.”

Where the hell were you? A temple. Lord Raiden’s temple. Okay. But where? You scooted to the edge of the table and placed your cup on the side table. Brother Feng had come to your side and offered his assistance. You were thankful for it. Your legs wobbled as you pushed onto them. Just how long had you been asleep? Looking over yourself, you were still wearing your own clothes.

Brother Feng allowed you to use him to steady yourself as you willed your legs to work. By the time you reached the curtain you were confident enough to let go of him, but you could feel him watching you with great attention. You could feel Liu Kang had taken over as you stepped out into a small hallway.

The hall was lined with more rooms curtained off. It became apparent that this had been some sort of makeshift hospital. An eerie, familiar feeling set in. Modern technology contrasted the antique furniture as you made your way down the hall.

“This way.”

You snapped back to focus on Liu Kang, who now gestured towards an actual door. A simple wooden door. You turned and walked… albeit a bit shaky. Liu Kang opened the door for you and let you step through first. You’d then stepped into a long, torch lit hallway. The walls were still cave-like. You couldn’t help it. You had to ask. “Are we underground?”

Liu Kang smiled and shook his head as he led you down the hall, staying at your side. He kept a watchful eye on you, seeming ready to catch you at any second. “No. Not exactly. This temple was carved into the side of a ravine. You’ll be able to see once we turn that corner ahead.”

“Ravine?...” Suddenly, you remembered your fear of heights. Okay, fear wasn’t the right word. Phobia. That fit better.

Liu Kang seemed to notice your sudden fear, because he now turned his head to look at you completely. His eyes searched your face. “Yes. A ravine. Are you alright? Do you need to rest?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m fine. Just… Not a fan of heights.”

He seemed to relax with that confession. He nodded. “We will pass the view as quick as you can manage.”

You nodded. Good. Hopefully you could avoid the view completely if you just looked at the floor the whole time.

“My apologies, there is no other route from here,” guilt was heavy in his voice.

“No. It’s okay. I just wont look. If I don’t look, I can’t see how high up I am. It’ll be like it never happened,” You lied nervously. Truth was, you were so afraid of heights, that even climbing a step ladder made you nervous. Always had. Ever since you’d fallen out of that tree as a kid.

Liu Kang continued to watch you. You glanced up to him and noticed just how his eyes seemed to look not at you, but into you. You looked away, back to the floor as he led you around the corner.

“Don’t look,” He warned with a gentle voice. You took a deep breath and tried to walk faster. But of course, you snuck a peak out of the corner of your eye and caught the sight of the setting sun. Not a cloud in sight. Stars were just beginning to shine… Then your eyes drifted down.

You saw it. The ravine. You gasped and froze. Oh no. No. No. Too high. Way too high. You stopped dead in your tracks. Liu stopped just a step ahead of you. He looked back with a furrowed brow.

“I looked…” You sheepishly admitted.

He frowned. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He stepped to the other side of you, blocking your view. His eyes drifted down to your chest and you felt the instinct to slap him for looking, for being a perv.

He must have noticed your disapproval. As he looked back up to your face, a red hue came to his cheeks. “Oh. No.” He held his hands up defensively. “I did not mean to offend you. I was just watching your breath.”

Yeah, sure. You’d heard that one before… No you hadn’t. That was a new one.

“Your breathing is shallow.”

“Kinda normal when you’re scared,” you quipped.

“Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He gestured with his hand the rise and fall of his own diaphragm as he took a deep breath. You tried to copy his breath, but yours shook. “Good. I promise, you’re okay. You’re not going to fall. Come here.” He took a small step forward and you watched his feet. Taking another forced deep breath, you willed forward. He took another step. You took another step. Another step. Another step. “Breathe,” he coached gently. You sucked in another breath. “There. Keep going.” He began to walk at a normal pace and you stayed right with him.

When you thought you couldn’t do it anymore, you reached the next corner and were again surrounded by the cave's walls. A heavy, relieved breath escaped you as you leaned against one of the walls. And to his credit, Liu Kang didn’t say an ill word of it. He seemed to relax with you, as if worried you were going to panic. Which you did.

“See? You did it,” He told you, that warm smile on his face again.

You nodded and let another relieved breath leave you. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that again.” But his silence made you look back up to him.

He frowned.

You groaned with dread.

“I think we’ll focus on getting rid of your fear of heights. Training won't do you any good if you can’t focus,” He thought aloud.

“Training? What?”

“Lord Raiden will explain.”

“Just how many more views do I have to walk by before I get to see this guy?”

“... I will block your view as best I can.”

You groaned again. That meant there was at least one more hall like that one. Hopefully just one.

It wasn’t just one.

It was four.

Four.

Why did this Lord Raiden have to build his house in a damn hole in the Earth?!

You couldn’t do this anymore. No. No more views. Walls were good. Solid, windowless walls were good. Liu Kang placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“This fear is a problem.”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“But you faced it. Five times. You could have stopped before the first.”

You groaned.

“You have a brave soul,” He said with confidence. “I can see why Lord Raiden was adamant about saving you.”

“Saving me?” You looked to him. At this point, a confused expression could just be permanently plastered to your face and it’d always be accurate around here.

“Yes. Come on. Only a little more way to go.” He stepped ahead of you. You followed.

"There you are," a deep voice called as Liu Kang finally led you into a large room of pillars that resembled Tesla coils. You looked to see a man, dressed in all white with a harvester hat that obstructed most of his face from view.

Liu Kang bowed his head to his Lord in greeting as he walked towards the man in white. "Lord Raiden, she is exactly as you described."

You, once again, confused, looked to Liu Kang as you followed him past the electric pillars. You could feel the electricity in the air and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Is she? That's great news." Raiden tilted his head up just enough so now you could see two glowing blue eyes staring right at you.

A chill was sent down your spine, but you stood your ground, mostly curious about this man, this place. Was he really a god?

"Yes. I am really a god," Raiden answered your thoughts. Your eyes widened and a sense of dread filled you.

Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think about Liu Kang's ass, you thought frantically. You'd been stealing glances of it the whole way here.

Raiden grinned. Then he laughed openly.

Ah, shit. Your face grew hot. It must have been red as a firetruck.

Liu Kang, however, was now the one confused.

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

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dinthehottotty · 3 years

Text

A Thing About Silver (Part 1)

Din Djarin x Reader x Cobb Vanth

Reader is really horny and Mando refuses to give into her prompts. She takes comfort from Cobb before returning to Din.

Warnings: Smut, cream pies, jealous!Mando, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex. Minor psychological break, this turned out more fucked up than intended. Angst. Rejection.

...

You'd felt the sexual frustration for months now. And not just a couple. It was going on nine months. Nine! And stuffing your fingers up inside you in the dark of your bunk before Mando came into the room was far from satisfactory. The desperate and quick orgasms were becoming even less powerful, making you chase multiples only to find a lack luster completion. And recently you'd even resorted to when he was there. You'd listen for his quiet breathing and pray to all the gods that he was long since passed out.

It felt like your cunt hadn't stopped aching for months. The whole time you'd thrown flirty comments at Mando. At first he ignored them. But the things you said went from cute little flirts to filthy fucking language. Especially when he joined in, throwing random comments in it. You shiver every time you think of him saying ‘Now is not the time to stare at me so you can think of me in your bunk later.” You’d given him a naughty grin as he told you to hand him a tool on your other side while he worked on a panel inside the ship. His quips were getting better.

There was something about being in that little bo-dunk strip in the dessert that reminded you just how thirsty you were. What you wouldn't give to gulp down (not even his at this point) some thick cock.

Ugh. Even the thought made you internally cringe.

You were getting desperate.

And then the Marshall walked in.

Your heart stuttered automatically in your chest. Hard. Dirty thoughts of getting railed by not one, but two Mandalorians had your brain short circuiting. Oh, filth oozed from you.

And then he removed his helmet and you speed ran the five stages of grief. Just as acceptance rolled in, Mando demanded he 'take it off or that he would.' It was low and threatening and made you nearly lose your mind even thought his intent was murder and not some western style three-way. Nonetheless, it would steamroll your dreams nightly.

You didn't expect Vanth to charm you the way he had. You suppose it was his silver hair and pearly grin at work with your dry spell because normally you had a thing for mocha skin and soulful brown eyes.

Now, the deep ache had reached not just between your legs but deep in your belly. There was a monster hooked in your cervix and you needed something to beat it to death in there. Fuck were you getting desperate.

Almost an entire week of Vanth flirting with you and Mando barely acknowledging it. Like it didn't matter. Oh, did that make you boil. And here, celebrating back in the town for killing that godforsaken sand dragon, you were about to spill over. Especially when Vanth smirks at you from across the bar, a lift to one of his brows, questioning your next move.

You hadn't given him an inch on the mission. Not a smile or a blush. Just kept your mouth shut and glanced to Mando who'd plainly ignore it.

You didn't know if he didn't see Vanth as competition or if he just didn't care. You reach back for your drink on the bar, ready to throw one back in attempt to burn our the flames between your legs. A flash of silver catches your eye.

Glancing over, you see Mando striding over from the door.

"Room is ready. Go get some sleep. We leave early." He orders.

With liquid courage in your system, you glare at him and turn back to your drink. You motion for the bar keep to refill you. "Are you going to be joining me? Or are you going to leave me high and dry again?" You manage out the growl.

He stares at you in silence and you face him, giving a question lift to your eyebrows, a lack of anything other than blatant distaste in your features.

"You're drunk." He decides.

"Getting there." You snap and take a slow sip of your drink, eyeing the tinted visor on his face.

He watches as you twist your body toward Vanth again and lean against the bar. He's calmly watching the exchange between you both from across the loud room.

"Tell you what, you give me one good dance to the next song and I'll go back to the room with you right now." He doesn't budge.

"No," is his only answer. You shake your head and scoff.

"Fine," you reply.

"I'll leave you here if you're not up tomorrow at sunrise." He threatens. Honestly you're more surprised he's not mushing you back toward the ship as you speak.

"If you don't stop me, I'm going to dance with Vanth." He's quite once more. You allow your head to lazily loll back towards the Mandalorian. He's stiff as a board and so quiet you decide to continue with your liquid courage. "Tell me 'no' and I won't fuck him. Tell me you'll take me back to the room and bruise my cervix right now and I won't go seek him out to do it instead." Mando turns to look toward Vanth now. You see his fists tighten, the leather stretching tight across his knuckles.

"Say no," you prompt again. The air is filling with the bustle of the space around you but it stills between the three of you, like lightning about to hit. You straighten to your full height and step close, hovering within inches of his space. You lower your voice to honeyed whisper. "Take me back to the room, Din." His head twitches your way, but barely. "Use me like a whore. I just need to feel something. Something other than my own damn hands or my fucking pillow, please just say no." Give me hope.

He remains silent and watches Vanth. His body is turned towards you, but his head is directed at the Marshall. You wish you could get a read on him but for the life of you, you can't. He just remains silent.

Finger tips brush your arm, bare ones. You hadn't realized Vanth had slid across the small bar to your side. "Hey, sweetheart," he purrs down into your ear. You glance over at him. "You've got such a tense face, come dance with me, break loose of Mando." He urges with a wink and a grin.

He was hesitant to flirt with you at first, but the more he did it and the lack of either parties protest leave him gaining confidence. You and Mando were dancing around each other, gaging the reaction of the other. He never stepped in between. Even now you were watching him. He just remained silent and stared at Vanth. You wish you could read his mind, understand what the fuck is running through it.

After a long still moment you twist toward Vanth. "Are you going to be able to keep up, old man?" You reply. Surprise and excitement flash across his face as Mando's head now swivels at you.

"I help you take down a sand dragon and you think I can't handle a dance?" His hand returns to your arm. Hard finger tips trace feather-light down the sensitive underside of your arm and ghost over your wrist. Your heart stutters in your chest when he firmly intertwines your fingers and gives a gentle tug.

Still, the suit of armor doesn't say a word as you're dragged away. A pain fills you chest. You throw your drink back and drop the glass onto a near by table you pass. A new song comes on, more up beat and you push Mando out of your head as much as you can. You don't need the painof rejection dampening your mood. Not when your so close to getting your legs lifted to your shoulders.

Vanth can dance, you soon realize. He's gracefully zipping you around to the beat and you're actually having fun within a minute of starting. It's a fantastic distraction. And so are his hands.

They start up high, the middle of your back, barely touching you, clasped with yours. And by the third song, when there's a heard of bodies also moving around you, he starts to wander. The hand holding yours falls to your hip, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes dart for a moment. Beskar watches you from the bar still, now sitting. Watching.

"So, before I continue trying to coax you away," the voice in your ear startles you as you both sway to a slower tempo, "am I going to be shot with a blaster by Mando?"

It cracks a smile on your face and you giggle at the thought. "Not what you want to hear, but I've been throwing myself at him for months and not a damn thing's happened," you reply.

"Too bad he took the armor," he replies. Your eyes widened at the thought he was proposing. You sink against his chest, staring up into his crystal blue eyes.

"That might stir up some psychological issues for me, Vanth," you say with a flirty giggle. He grins.

"Damn, you've got the most stunning smile," he murmurs and suddenly his hand is coming up to cup your face and tuck your hair behind your ear.

More than anything you want it to be Mando touching you like that, telling you he loves your smile. It makes you ache. You do the only logical thing you can think of.

You push it deep down, bottling it up with the rest of your emotions.

Closing your eyes, you sink your face against his hand, lifting a hand from his chest to cup it against your face. When you open your eyes you are startled to find Mando standing behind him and let out a squeak.

"What?" You snap sourly as Vanth twists.

Mando's hand is clenched tightly at his side. "It's on the north side of the village."

"It's two places down from me," Vanth offers with a sugar sweet grin. "I'll make sure see gets back." That... that is the reaction you wanted Mando to have when Vanth flirted. Instead, now your twisted in the latter's arms.

Mando looks at you again, then heaves a sigh and leaves.

You fight the urge to follow him. Instead, you continue to dance with Vanth, pushing your hips into his and building up that urge you've been wrestling with for months.

It's the feel of his mouth pressing down on your neck. That's all it takes for you to throw credits down on the bar and drag him out. The moment the cool night air hits you, he's pressing you up against the side of the building and tasting you. There's teeth and tongue. Arousal is burning you up.

Vanth has you both shuffling around the side of the bar and against the side of it before he's sliding a hand into your underwear and you breathe a gasp of relief. You want to sob at the feeling of him filling your cunt so easily with two fingers. His face crumbles in delight.

"Fuck, look how wet you are," he groans. "Come on, let's go back to mine. I'll eat you out, okay?" He coaxes while rolling his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy slowly. Like your not bracing against the wall and rocking desperately onto his fingers. Like you aren't gasping for the dry air as you would be if you had ran a marathon. He'd barely touched you and it felt so kriffing good that there was a heat burning through you like no other.

The feel of his hand where you so desperately need it and his blunt promise to make you cum has you clamping tightly on his fingers. You mewl out a quiet please, so desperate for this not to stop. Nothing had felt so good in so long. You always had to rush and his fingers were thicker than yours, could reach better.

Thankfully he's so mesmerized by your reaction he keeps up his good work. It's not even ten seconds before heat fills your belly and your hands snatch his forearm, holding it in place and leaning your forehead on his shoulder. "C-close," you manage to warn when the palm of his hand pressed down on your clit.

His eyebrows shoot up as his other hand tilts your head back to look at your face. "Already? You poor thing. You're wound up tighter than a-" he doesn't get to finish his thought because you're fisting hands in his shirt when he fingers you slower, but pushes harder up into your front wall. You give a broken cry, tucking your head into your chest and pushing back onto his hand as you completely come undone.

It's the best orgasm you've had in months, leaving Vanth grinning down on you with dark eyes. Your legs wobble beneath you. "Oh, you poor thing. Mando's been edging you for far too long." He breathes before ghosting his mouth over your neck. Your head rolled back exposes it and you whimper as he presses his fingers a few more times into the spongy sweet spot inside.

Its only when someone stumbles loudly from the entrance of the bar that he drags his fingers out, leaving you aching and unbearably empty.

He pulls you into his side, and if anyone saw they'd probably call you drunk. Your a ragdoll from coming off your orgasm. It was hard to focus your eyes as he supports you. The both of you give soft chuckles in response.

"My place?" He prompts.

"Aye, Marshall." He steadies you before the two of you meander the short distance of the street. There aren't many buildings. Its more of a village than a town. No matter where you stood in it, you could see the edges. When you step up onto the front porch you turn to glance around, a flash of silver making itself known.

Silver? Mando. Two buildings down, the last one on this stretch, across the street sat the Mandalorian. The light glowed from the open door behind him, warm and inviting.

I wanna go home, the intrusive thought rang in your head. A pitifully small voice urging you to head down to the porch steps that Din perched, cleaning his rifle, on.

The post orgasm clarity was hitting you. You felt sleepy. Exhausted. You could head in, lay down beside the child and drift to sleep until your partner woke you and dragged you to the next planet. Sleep off the alcohol.

Din glances up, pausing and staring right at you. You step his way, hesitating at the end of Vanth's porch. The man behind you opened his door and turn toward you. But you were too caught up in Mando's reaction. He watched you.

Just tell me 'no', Din. You internally begged. If he'd so much as gestured you back to him you would leap from the porch and race back to him. Instead he went back to polishing the barrel.

Spite fills you and you turn toward Vanth. He gives you a gentle questioning gaze before gesturing you into the dark. You step through, feeling the heat of your anger rising again.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Is the words he speaks when the door closes. "Don't think I'm above sleeping with a woman so she can get her revenge. You can use me however your heart desires." He says, flipping the light on.

"Leave the light off and kiss me. Roughly. I'm angry." You admit. He raises a single brow before brushing his fingers over the light on the wall and turning it back off.

"Rough?" He rasps, striding forward to cup your face. "Can I cum in you?"

The question short circuits your brain, negating any anger or reason for your anger at the request. "Oh, fuck. Please?" You squeak and he grasps your face in his hands, bruising your lips with his. His mouth tastes like spotchka and his teeth are eager to bite.

He kisses over your jaw as his hands drop to drag your body back against his. He's an effective amnesia to your poor broken heart. His hands feel good as they tug at clothing. You don't quite register doing the same. Not when his teeth are nipping at your neck and speeding up your heart rate.

Dank ferrik, it felt good to grind your stimulated groin over his with less fabric in the way. You both gasp into the night.

You push away the guilt that nubbed up in your mind. No. He rejected you. Din rejected every advance. You had no reason to feel guilt.

Still it lingers in the corner. Watching through a tinted visor and looming.

Cobb tilts you back onto the bed, groaning deeply into your shoulder. "Do you want to cum again, first?"

"N-no, just, just put it in," you groan. "Just wanna feel full." It earns you a shaky groan of approval.

Without warning he grips your hips and flips you onto your stomach. A sharp smack lands on your ass, letting you moan softly. He sits upright, lining up with you in the dark.

You whimper when you feel his cock rub once over you before he's aligned. Then he sinks in and that delicious stretch has you gasping as he slides home. There is a drawn moment where you both soak up that initial cure of need. Then he sets a fast pace, drilling deeply.

A hand closes on the back of your neck, tightening.

"Are you enjoying this?" Din's modulated voice asks in your ear, mockingly. He's not actually there of course, only serving to piss you off more. Because you know how much better it'd feel if it was him splitting your ass in two.

You brace against the bed. Pushing back harder and moaning. It makes the hand twist around your throat and jerk you back against Cobb. The change in position makes you whimper. You reach back for hair, guiding his mouth to yours.

Cobb seems to understand that the roughness is urging him to kick up his own. His hand on you hip snatches one of your breasts to squeeze. You break away to whimper and catch more silver.

"Do you think I'll be here every time you fuck someone now?" The Din-Delusion taunts as he lounges on the pillows comfortably. You were definitely going to have a psychological break after this one night stand.

He's so annoying that even the delicious grunts that rise from your new lover is hard to focus on.

"Harder." You rasp. You're tossed to the bed as Vanth crawls across you.

"You can call his name if it makes you feel better," he rumbles as he sinks back into your cervix with a hard thrust. His fingers dig into your thighs.

"Call it out," Not-Din chuckles. "Cry my name loud enough I can hear it across the street. Maybe that'll spur me on." It's dripping with so much sarcasm as your head nearly knocks into his leg that isn't actually there.

"No," you snarl at the figment of your guilty conscience. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and cry out when his hips canter harder into you. You claw at his back, earning happy groans and him twitching inside you.

"Yeah, probably a better idea. If you call put my name I might think your in trouble and shoot the bastard."

"I'm gonna fuck you a-again. Cl-close."

"Cum in me, Vanth!" you cry louder than intended. His hand tangles roughly in your hair, exposing your throat to new assault. Fuck, you'll ache tomorrow, you hope.

"That's it, baby girl," Not-Din coos. "Louder, maybe that'll make me respect you enough to see you as more than just a kid. Maybe I'll see you in sexual manner."

Vanth's hips stutter as he spills inside of you. He pants against your neck for a moment and then draws back to flash you with a dazzling smile, even in the dark. "It'll take me a minute to recharge. Can I go down on you?"

It makes you blink in surprise, even Not-Din tilts his helmet with curiosity at the sweaty man on top of you.

"You... you just came in me though..." you protest weakly.

"So, it's mine." He drops down to snatch a nipple into his mouth, delighted.

You give a moan. "Ye-yeah, knock yourself out, Vanth." He drags you to the edge of the bed to throw your legs over his shoulders. It feels so lewd to have him lapping so hungerly at you while his own cum spilled out of you.

"Filthy girl, aren't you?" Din growls out, moving around behind Vanth to watch casually. Why did that turn you on? Having the Mandalorian watching as another man devoured you. You liked it, when the man between your legs moaned against your sex.

He was decent at it. Obviously doing it more for himself at this point than for you. But between the sexual frustration that had been building for months and the overstimulation, it wasn't taking very long to bring you to a second orgasm.

All the while Not-Din leaned back and watch, taunting you and mocking you. "You really said let's throw it all away for a fuck." That line got you.

Vanth was lapping at your oversensitive clit, pulling the hood back and relishing the sobs of pleasure. But it wasn't just a sob of pleasure. Tears rolled over your temples and into your hair as your legs quake. Your chest ached as you begged him not to stop, hoping another orgasm might drown out the despair that this wasn't the man you wanted.

He was a poor substitute to reconcile your hurt feelings. You regret it already, as you knew you would. But that doesn't stop you from screwing him for a few more hours.

Eventually all is quiet, the both of you lying in the dark, catching your breath and coming down from your highs. And you watched as the vision of Din faded, feeling more empty now than you had before. "Thanks," you murmur into the dark and sit up before exhaustion fully takes you.

"Hey," he calls into the dark, the only light trickling in from the port window. "I know heart break is absolutely soul crushing, but there will be others. I promise. Someday it won't hurt so bad." You flinch when a hand brushes down your spine.

Self hatred seeped from you with the finishings Cobb left in you. "I'm gonna go," you manage, standing on sore legs to collect your clothes.

"Alright."

There's nothing but the shuffle of clothes as you get dressed. That was the last thing either of you spoke to each other before you stepped out onto the porch and into the cool night air.

#din djarin x reader #din x you #din x reader #reader insert #cobb vanth #din djarin #smut #angst #dont worry you bang din next

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nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years

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🌄Bakugo + Rough & Tough Crush🌌

Looking for the whole set? Take Part 2 right here!

Summary: So, you’re a rough and tumble hero trainee huh? You don’t mind charging into a rightful battle headfirst? You have an incredibly gruff and inappropriate sense of humor? And you want to see if this boy can handle it! Well goddamn this is the scenario for you!

A/N: Not me using my daily internal dialogue for what Y/N says 😭💀(Also, I’m thinking of just doing one character at a time for the one-off headcanons for quality purposes.)

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💥Katsuki Bakugo💥

Let’s be honest here, Bakugo hated the living hell out of you at first

Your idealistic drive to be the strongest hero mirrored Deku’s philosophies a lot. And we know how Bakugo felt about that at the time

Before any real combative things came up, Bakugo thought you spoke a lot of inspirational seminar bullshit. But, when the curriculum would get a little harder than you thought it would? You’d wilt like a flower in a snowstorm

You did slightly below average on the physical assessment at the beginning of the year (which didn’t help in getting Bakugo to respect you), but he could tell that you were physically durable. So, at least you weren’t a complete liability in battle

On your end of the stick, you found Bakugo pretty amusing

While you liked a few things about him, like his stubborn one-track mind, and his nearly comical tsun tsun demeanor...He mostly gave you reasons to laugh at him

You swear it’s all in good spirits! But, your actions say otherwise when you profusely apologize to Midoriya for laughing when Bakugo threatened to blow his ass into next semester. And you were laughing at Bakugo’s short fuse, you promise!

Anyways, fast forward to the U.S.J. incident. The moment the first villains appeared, you shared a knowingly aggressive look with Kirishima (The guy you hit it off with since the beginning of the year)

The spark between your eyes practically yelled: “Like hell am I letting these bastards hurt my classmates.”

So there were you, Kirishima, and Bakugo, separated from the rest of 1-A in a random part of the U.S.J. that was a hazard from top to bottom. Ah, shit, other villains are there too

God, something about that underhanded villain tactic made your blood boil

When the three of you began fighting like rabid dogs, Bakugo caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes

While you were free of that “good vibes” spirit you met everything with, if you were afraid, you didn’t show it. An uncanny fire lit up everything you threw at your opponents. A fire Bakugo was all too familiar with

It was like looking into a funhouse mirror. The qualities you had were similar to Bakugo’s, but you showcased them much differently

On top of that, you were kicking some major ass out there

You really said “Damsel in distress?? Is that an island or something??” 😭

The number of villains you, Bakugo, and Kirishima took down were a pretty even split between the three of you. So, no one can say they didn’t pull their weight

Even after the heat of the moment, Bakugo could hardly identify the feeling in the pit of his stomach at the memory of you (It’s okay bby you’re just slightly turned on by y/n)

My guy just watched you rock his world with your sudden shift to a “take no bullshit” attitude. If he was gonna fall, he fell hard

And with the EQ this boy has, y’know what he does??

He mistakes his newfound crush for wanting to be in constant competition with you

Bakugo literally couldn’t accept that he simply admired the way you acted, and felt that you were another rival on his path to becoming the strongest hero

But, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in Bakugo’s demeanor towards you

He stopped insulting you like you were beneath him, instead using taunts and (quite aggressive) banter to get you fired up. It was almost like he treated you as someone on his level. Someone that Bakugo wanted to improve and get better so he could do the same thing with you

When you would tease Bakugo for random or trivial things, he’d never blow up at you. Instead, he wanted to provoke you. In an irritated and grungy voice, he’d say “fight me”.

You, being the scrappy little shit you are, would always reply with, “Oh, word?”

“Do it. You won’t.”

Cue the Bakusquad having to pull you two apart because it was the middle of lunch period you guys literally cannot be doing this-

(After you and Bakugo start dating, play fights [that are also very real fights] are a fundamental part of your relationship)

At the point Bakugo starts caring for your needs, things get a little weird

You get a lot of water bottles thrown at the back of your head, followed by a distinct: “HYDRATE OR DIEDRATE YOU THIRSTY FUCK. I’M NOT BEATING A MALNOURISHED BITCH INTO THE DIRT TODAY.”

Even though you never really mean to, you return the favor after you go into defensive mode: “AND WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD A LEGIT MEAL?”

“LUNCH FROM YESTERDAY.”

“EAT.”

While you and Bakugo still aren’t romantically involved, physical affection isn’t quite affection to anyone but you two

Punches on the arm, light smacks to the back of the head, flicks on random parts of the body. Really anything that provokes the other person to fight back

Mina and Sero were the ones to pick up on Bakugo’s big fat crush, even though the signs weren’t that obvious

They saw how he subconsciously let out a smile (like the one he gave with Kota) whenever you did something awesome and (presumably) no one else was looking

They noticed that he got almost unreasonably aggressive when someone else would mention how cool you are. Responding with either a: “Damn right they are. And don’t you forget it!!” or “You could hardly dream of doing what they do. Train a little harder and grow a backbone, you might get close.”

It was almost akin to jealousy, considering how his brow would furrow a little more and his face would get the slightest bit red

Sero and Mina communicated their suspicions to Jirou, Kaminari, and Kirishima, and the overall agreement was that they needed to get you and Bakugo together

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

#extra supplies #caravan commodities #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bakugou headcanons

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Murder, He Wrote

Part 2 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 2 to our submission for @Jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 1

With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity.

When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.

"I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded.

"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest.

"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second.

“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips.

As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?"

"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing.

"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.

"You don't know the half of it," he winked.

"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips.

"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."

"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying.

"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door.

The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped.

"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words.

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room.

In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led.

**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.

His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.

Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.

“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.

“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.

Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.

“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.

“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”

“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.

“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.

“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”

“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”

“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.

“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.

“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”

“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.

“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”

“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."

Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.

“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”

“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.

“You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”

Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.

“Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”

She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”

Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...

He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.

“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.

“How's Richard?”

Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.

“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”

“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”

Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.

“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.

“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”

“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.

“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”

“Good.” Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.

“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.

“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.

“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”

Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”

And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.

“I see that now.”

“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan.

"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.

“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.

“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.

“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”

The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.

***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.

You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.

The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning.

“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.

“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.

“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.

“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”

You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.

At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.

“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.

“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.

Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.

“No thank you?”

“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.

His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”

You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.

“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.

“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”

“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”

“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”

He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”

“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him.

You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.

So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.

True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.

“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.

“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”

“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.

You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed

“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”

Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you stuttered

“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.

“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.

“Answer the question.” He said simply

And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down

“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.

“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”

“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.

With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space.

A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.

You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.

“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.

“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.

“Clothes too…”

“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.

You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”

“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”

You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”

“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.

With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.

It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.

“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.

Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.

“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”

You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”

“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.

“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”

At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.

“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.

“10 minutes” he repeated.

He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.

“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner. Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.

You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.

“That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”

You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.

“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.

“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.

You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.

****

Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.

“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”

She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.

Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.

He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.

“Hairbrush?” she asked.

Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.

“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”

At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.

Such a petulant brat.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.

Oh, Doll, you have no idea…

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.

“Smart move.” He nodded.

“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.

“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”

At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”

“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.

“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.

“Is that it?”

“For now.” He nodded.

“Do I get to make any rules?”

Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Can I ask you for things?”

“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”

“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”

“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.

Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.

“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”

She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”

As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said quickly

“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.

**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.

In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.

“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.

Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.

“For the boredom.”

You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.

Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.

“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”

He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”

The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.

“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.

“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.

“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”

Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”

“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”

His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”

Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”

“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”

“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine

“I met my mother.”

“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.

“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”

“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”

Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”

“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”

“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”

“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.

“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.

Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”

At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."

“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.

“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”

There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.

Shit.

In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”

“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.

“Fuck you.” You spat back.

“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.

His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.

Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly.

One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.

“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”

You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.

“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”

He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.

“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.

“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”

“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.

"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”

He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.

"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.

Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.

“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”

At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.

“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”

And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.

****

Part 3

#murder he wrote #js haunted house 2020 #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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ask-them-bois · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Matriarchs, pt 1/3

TLDR: Musrio has a talk with Oliver and the ancestors.

TW: None

~~~~~~~~ Musrio knew exactly what god had chosen to shove its bulge up his wastechute and fuck him over when he’d walked into Scarbucks to see none other than Oliver fucking Maddel standing at the counter, chatting amicably with the barista.

The sun had only just set, so the coffeehive was nearly empty, and Oliver turned her head at the sound of the dongshouter above the door ringing. Musrio froze on the spot, despite Oliver being unable to see him. As he watched, a small, knowing smile spread across Oliver’s face, and the rustblood knew beyond doubt that Oliver knew exactly who stood behind her.

“Good morning, Almawt.” He said politely.

Musrio said nothing, rooted to the spot by his surprise. After a moment, he shook himself out of it, magic springing to his palms as he braced himself for the oliveblood to make a move. And since Oliver couldn’t see him, he flipped them the finger.

Oliver seemed unperturbed by his silence. “I was hoping to come across you soon, you know. I didn’t realize it would be now, but, ah well. Better now than never, darling. Come, order your drink, on me. We should talk.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” Musrio scowled.

“Oh, I know you don’t want to, but I think you and I need to. Just give me ten minutes, darling.”

“I’d rather eat glass. Ribbit.” Musrio spat.

Oliver tittered, taking her drink from the barista. “With the amount of venom you ingest, would that even do anything?” She inquired, turning to fully face him. “Five minutes, then? That’s all I’m asking for. Perhaps we can set some of our grievances aside.”

Musrio narrowed his eyes, understandably suspicious. Oliver tisked, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll be over here if you change your mind. Darling, put this man’s drink on my tab.” They said, talking to the barista over their shoulder, before they turned and headed for a booth far away from the other patrons, their cane clicking against the floor.

Musrio strongly considered turning around and walking back out. His feet were burning with the urge. At the very least, he was going to get what he came for, though. He approached the counter and gave them his order; a black coffee with as much espresso they were legally allowed to give him, and whipped cream.

It came out rather quickly, and he took it to the personalization station, watching Oliver out of the corner of his eye the entire time.

The oliveblood had taken a seat, and was tapping on his palmhusk, an earpiece reading out his claw’s placement on the screen as his purse and cane laid on the bench beside him.

Musrio reached into his robe, to his satchel, and removed a vial of a viscous, clear fluid. He splashed a healthy amount into the coffee and stirred it, before pouring in a few packs of sugar. He turned towards the oliveblood again, debating himself silently for several seconds.

Finally, he approached the booth, and wordlessly slid into the opposing bench.

Oliver didn’t look up from her palmhusk, but she smiled. “So glad you decided to join me, darling.”

“Five minutes starts now.” Musrio said pointedly.

Oliver hummed, flicking tabs away on their palmhusk before closing it down and setting it aside. “Indeed.” They knitted their fingers together, resting their chin on them. Even with their eyes covered, Musrio got the impression Oliver was staring him down. “We have quite the history together, don’t we, Almawt?”

“No, we don’t.”

“Oh, but we do. Perhaps not directly, but we shared one very important troll.”

“We didn’t share them; you took them away and gave me back the broken pieces. Ribbit.” Musrio snapped.

“If that is how you remember it, darling, sure.” She hurried on as Musrio opened his mouth to speak, “You know, it’s quite funny. I don’t even know what you look like, darling, yet this… animosity has grown so dark between us, that even I am blinded by it. I am thankful that I am a phoenix, so that I might have a chance to cut through the murk with a gracing light.”

Musrio scoffed. “What are you getting at, Oliver?”

“I am getting at your surrender, Musrio.” Oliver said bluntly, his smile suddenly dropped.

“My what?”

“I am asking you politely, and once: I ask that you surrender your side now, before this gets messy and trolls get hurt. I don’t care if you join me or not, but simply… stop fighting. There’s no way you can win- you see that, don’t you?”

Musrio’s claws dug into his palms as he curled his hands into fists. “Trolls are going to get hurt regardless, Oliver- you’re planning a fucking genocide! Ribbit!”

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “Sacrifices must be made, for the good of-”

“The only troll this would be good for is you.” Musrio cut them off.

“Darling, please. Surely someone as logical as you can see how the odds are stacked? On my side, I have the entirety of the Black Hand- nearly three hundred strong- BB, the Enforcer, and the Bladepen.

You have a drunk, a chef, a pair of broken batteries, a pair of mangy mutts, a gardener, a rancher, a madman, a chronically sick child, a philosopher, a retired soldier, and a failure.” She listed them off like she’d practiced this. “That’s not even to mention those of us who are undecided, such as the Hounding, the mutant reds, and the dear prince. Your side is mere has-beens and broken trolls, darling. I am offering you a chance to surrender with grace, rather than see them all culled.”

Musrio took a deep gulp of coffee in hostile silence, setting his cup down with force. “That’s where you’re wrong, Oliver.” He said, his voice dark. “I “have” nothing. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for demons and shifter-beasts and robots. I didn’t ask for soldiers and thieves. They took a good look at the fight you’re trying to start, and chose to back up the one troll you seem afraid of. Ribbit.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you, Musrio.”

“Then why are we having this discussion?” The rustblood demanded, “If you aren’t afraid, why meet me like this?”

“Because I, platonically, pity you, darling. Watching this all go down is like watching a warren of hop-beast grubs try to fight a howl-beast. Frankly, it’s depressing that the Infinite Scapegrace thought you were a suitable rival to strengthen me.”

Musrio’s mouth opened in shock. “You think that’s what this is? Ribbit?” He hissed, “That I’m some big obstacle your god put in your way to test your mettle?”

Oliver tipped his head. “Of course, darling. Why else would you be so inferior, yet so maddeningly annoying?” Musrio growled, low in his chest, and Oliver raised her hands in surrender. “No offense.”

“Oh, all offenses taken.” Musrio snapped. He slid out of the booth, standing up. “I think I’m done here. I’m not surrendering, Oliver. That’s not a fucking option anymore. I don’t give a damn about you, your god, or even this piece of shit world, but I do give a rat’s ass about the fact that you collectively ruined my fucking life. Ribbit. Fuck you, fuck the Black Hand, and fuck Neviserrath.” Oliver tensed in his seat, “I didn’t ask for this. All I fucking wanted was to be a professor and marry my partner. But since you ruined that, since you started this bullshit and I got no say in my participation, I’m going to put an end to it. Ribbit!”

He spat out the final croak, snatched up his coffee, and stormed out.

It took the entirety of the twenty minute walk down to the docks for him to calm down. He called Drayco as soon as he was a few blocks away from the coffeehive and told them everything that had happened.

“Holy shit, babe.” Was Drayco’s response, “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Mush.” The bronzeblood sighed, “I… I don’t know what to do or say. This all started because of m-”

“Don’t, Dee.” Musrio said forcefully, before his dropped into an almost uncharacteristic softness, “This isn’t your fault. It’s Oliver’s. You know that. Ribbit.”

“… Yeah, I know.”

“This will be over soon, Dee, and we can put this all behind us. We just need to find Lucina.”

“Are you headed to them now?”

“Yeah. I’d just stopped off to get a drink.”

He heard Drayco suck in a sharp, gurgling breath. “Well, good luck, then. Call me after and tell me how it goes.”

“I will.”

“Okay. I love you, Mushy.”

“I love you, too. Ribbit.”

Musrio hung up as he approached the docks, and ascended the ramp of the Warshark. Standing on the deck, smoking a cigarette, was the Ruthless Deepbite.

He let out his breath, smoke streaming from his mouth and gills.

“They’re all waitin’ in the dinin’ block fer ya, lad.”

Musrio paused, looking up at the violetblood. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”

Ruthless nodded, the haunted and exhausted look in his eyes, for once, slightly alleviated by the faintest spark of hope. “Aye. There’s only one color left.” He looked out towards the water, his tattered fins flickering. “Krakyn wanted ta be here fer this, but he can’t come this close ta shore.” He said.

“You can tell him about this afterwards. Ribbit.”

“Aye.” Ruthless dropped the butt and crushed it under his boot, before he turned and headed for the hatch. “Come on, then.”

He hauled open the hatch, and let Musrio into the bowls of the ancient ship.

Down the corridor, Ruthless let him into a large room that once crammed a crew of four dozen trolls into tables to eat.

Now, only the Incoding, the Innocent, the Decaying, the Deadscar Wanderer, and, inexplicably, the Hounding and Ashhur, sat around a table, the former sat on the opposite end of the two latter. They all looked up as Musrio and Ruthless Deepbite entered.

“Welcome, young Almawt.” Innocent signed politely.

“Hi. Thank you all for coming.” Musrio nodded. Awkwardly, he took a seat at the head of the table, while Ruthless took a seat between his morails. Taking a sip of his coffee, he cleared his throat. “I… suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here.” He internally cringed at saying such a cliché line. “Well…” He took a deep breath, trying to settle his sudden onset of nerves; he’d never been in a room with so many adults before. “I’ve got a lot to explain.”

Knocking back another gulp of poisoned coffee, the adults were silent as Musrio launched into the story; his death, his revival, his title as the second harbinger, the Black Hand, Neviserrath Apocriyna, the chosen child, the ritual, Oliver’s goal, and his mission. He spoke for over an hour without pause, leaving nothing out as he explained the reasons for their revivals, and why he’d needed them in the first place.

“… and now,” He said, his throat beginning to ache from talking for so long, “we’ve come down to the final color: Jade. Ribbit.”

Musrio watched Innocent and Incoding’s eyes slide directly to Ruthless.

The large seadweller swallowed. “But ya’ve tried a hundred times ta bring her back, lad. Nothin’s worked.”

“That’s the thing.” Musrio shifted in his seat, “The Hierophant came to me, and told me why we’d been failing.” He leaned forward, “Ruthless, your wife isn’t dead.”

A very loud silence fell as the violetblood’s face went slack with disbelief. “… She…?” He tried to speak, his voice faint. Slowly, he began to shake his head. “No, no, that can’t be right! She died in my arms! I watched-”

Musrio held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not denying that she died. She did. Ribbit. But she came back, long before I ever even hatched. She’s a rainbow drinker, Ruthless, and she’s waiting for us, somewhere.”

Ruthless sat back in his seat, before he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands as he digested this. His fins began to flare, before they drooped, only to hesitantly flutter upwards again. Incoding and Innocent each put a comforting hand on his shoulders as he digested this.

For a minute, Musrio honestly thought the seadweller was going to cry. At last, though, he took a deep breath and sat up again, running a hand over his face. “I…” he shook his head. “Okay. Sorry. Okay. My wife’s alive.” His voice cracked, “Where is she?”

At that, Musrio could only shake his head. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere on Alternia- for all I know, she could be off-world. We need to plan, to-”

“To what? We can’t possibly sweep the entire planet for her.” Incoding interjected.

“I know that.” Musrio huffed, “But we need some place to start.” He turned to Ruthless, “Think, Deepbite. There must be a place the two of you went to that she’d know you’d think of, or something. Ribbit.”

Ruthless frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “… No. The only places I could think of would be ‘er grave, or here. Most everythin’ ‘tween us happened on this tub.” He stamped his foot, and the ship responded with a creak. “An’ trust me, I’d know if she were here.”

Musrio swallowed the growl in his throat. “Well, then…” His gaze wandered the room, as if the answer would be scrawled on the walls. He turned to Deadscar, next. “What about you? You’ve been all over Alternia, have you seen anywhere that could be a rainbow drinker’s hideout? Ribbit?”

The Wanderer considered it for a moment, before he shook his head. “That is too vague a question. I have seen hundreds of places where it would be easy for a rainbow drinker to dwell.” He rumbled.

Musrio reached up and fiddled with his necklace, thinking. Looking over the gathered trolls again, his gaze landed on his own ancestor, the Decaying Mind. Brigan was staring fixatedly at him.

“… You know, don’t you?” Musrio asked him.

He nodded.

“What?” Ruthless rounded on the older rustblood, “How?”

Musrio sighed. “Brigan saw all of this happen before it even occurred, when he was caught between life and death. Ribbit. It destroyed most of his mind, which is why I gave him his title.” He explained.

“Rotted, totted, off to the maggots.” Brigan hummed, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Then tell us, Bri.” Incoding took his matesprit’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Where is Lucina?”

Brigan looked up at him, squinting at the goldblood’s face. “Oh, Cody…” he sighed, making Incoding start in surprise.

“Where is she, Almawt?” Ruthless repeated, more forcefully.

Brigan began to sway, his lips pursed. Slowly, he scowled. “Words, words, words. Rotten like my pan, spilling black ink on black paper. Leviathan drowned by wolf, heralded by scorpion, stealing my lexicon. Incomprehensible, even to the Ebonblack.” He said, sounding frustrated.

“… What?” Innocent asked.

That was when Ashhur suddenly stood up. He walked around the table to face Decaying, leaning towards him. “Incomprehensible, against the Ebonblack.” He chirred, “Scrambled eggs in fried pan. Indigestible for gods. Poison. Use it.”

“Brat, what’re you doin’?” Hounding growled. Ruthless shushed him, as Decaying fixed his gaze on the young mutant.

Ashhur made several clicks and hums, all four eyes blinking out of sync. “The raining bows sipper is…” more clicks, “hiding. You know?” He asked.

Decaying nodded, enthralled. “I know.” He agreed, a look of hopeful wonder on his face as he stared at Ashhur.

“Where do you know?”

“Where do I know…” Decaying repeated, scratching his stubbly cheek. He opened his mouth and shut it several times. “The monster.” He said at last, seeming pleased with himself. He pointed at Ashhur, “Monster to monster, water to sand. No- no water, but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. You know?”

All of Ashhur’s fins waved, almost hypnotically, as he thought this over, Decaying leaning forward with anticipation. Finally, Ashhur turned to Hounding. “What call you, the place of sand with no water?”

“The desert?” Hounding raised an eyebrow.

Decaying slapped his free hand onto the table, shook it out, and pointed at Hounding, nodding emphatically. “Desert, dessert, sweetness in sugar sand and gritted gold.” He turned to Ruthless. “Therein lies the where I know, what I know, who is known. Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.” He said, as if that was both comprehensible and important.

“Cody?” Ruthless turned to his morail, hoping for a translation.

“The hound of war lies in the desert.” Ashhur spoke instead, “Guarded by a beast, of one kind or many.”

“Okay… what’s a screaming serpent?” Incoding inquired.

Ashhur looked to Decaying.

“Metal, screaming, scuttling upon legs of centipede, but a serpent none the less.”

“Oh- a trackscuttler.” Incoding realized. He glanced at Ashhur, impressed. “How did you… manage to make him do that?”

Ashhur shrugged. “He cannot speak the way his pan speaks. I am,” he hesitated, clicking to himself, “broken worded, with your tongue. Broken tongue,” He pointed at himself, “broken thinkpan.” He pointed at Decaying, “Together, we make the words.”

“Well, then...” Innocent signed, “We head to the desert, and follow the trackscuttler trail.”

“All of us? That seems… like a bad idea.” Incoding frowned, “We don’t know where in the desert she is, or even which desert. The supplies alone would be a huge burden, and-”

“Then I’ll go.” Deadscar interrupted shortly. He rose to his feet, “I have crossed many deserts. I can search on my own.”

“Now, hang on.” Hounding squinted at Ishran, “Why the hell are ya goin’? I’m the tracker; my name is the Messiah’s damned Houndin’, after all.”

As one, the entire table turned to look at him. “... Why are you here, even?” Innocent inquired, “Last I checked, you weren’t on our side.”

Hounding nodded to Musrio. “The scumblood told me I aught’a come. Said I could get away from Godric.”

“I thought Godric was your boss.” Innocent pointed out, “He is the one that set you on us in the first place. Why would you want to get away from him?”

Hounding eyed the limeblood reproachfully. “Name one laborer that actually likes their foreman, sewerblood, an’ I’ll hang up my ax. Motherfucker pays me ta clean up his messes, but that doesn’t mean I want ta do it. The jobs the church gives me are more important than offin’ off some bitchblood with a big mouth.”

“...”

All the other adults gave each other a look.

Musrio shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Hounding is no longer the bigger threat here. We have Oliver, and the Enforcer to worry about. Ancient animosities have to be set aside. Ribbit.”

“It’s true…” Incoding said thoughtfully, before he snorted a laugh and turned to Hounding, “You’re basic, big guy. You’re season one’s villain.”

Hounding growled at him. “I could still rip ya in half right now, pissblood.”

“An’ ye’d get a bullet in the eye fer it.” Ruthless hissed.

“Stop.” Musrio said sharply, “Now isn’t the time.”

“Aye.” Ruthless agreed, looking around. “But it’s decided, then? Ishran’ll head fer the desert ta search fer Lucina. When ‘e finds her, we’ll come a’runnin’.”

The others nodded.

Ishran turned towards the door. “No point in wasting time. I will leave now.”

“Already?” Innocent asked, surprised.

Ishran looked towards his former charge, his expression momentarily softening. “Yes. I will be in touch.” He said, before striding out the door.

With that, Musrio rose to his feet, before he bowed to the gathered ancestors. “You have my thanks, all of you, for hearing me out. And… I’m sorry, for all of this. If it was my choice, I would have left your souls to rest. Ribbit.”

The gathering broke up, then, Hounding and Ashhur leaving promptly after. Musrio stood on the deck of the Warshark, texting Drayco as the three morails chatted nearby. The young rustblood looked up as a hand touched his shoulder.

“Puzzle to puzzle, pieces to rest.” Decaying murmured, coming to stand beside him. He looked up at the moons; they were full and fat that night, bathing everything in silvery purple and green. “Connected, all of them, until the picture is made blurry by the buried secrets. Clicked together, string to thumbtack, followed by the puppet wires, until they all tie behind the boy with demons in his blood and gods in his brain.”

He looked down at Musrio again, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he gazed intensely at his descendant. “The line will be blurred, paint will spill, but painters spared. Follow the lines, balance, tight-rope walking, but let ashen feathers run amok. Flames consume breath until redemption breaks the puzzle. The bane of worlds and innocent constellations will be the salvation of us all.”

He squeezed Musrio’s shoulder, before he wandered away, leaving the young rustblood to contemplate the oncoming events.

#of monsters and matriarchs #story time #long post #musrio almawt #oliver maddel #the innocent #the incoding #ruthless deepbite #the decaying #the deadscar wanderer #the hounding #ashhur jaybez

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krizaland · 3 years

Note

zim x irken!reader based on the trial? the reader being a higher up that wants to save him (the tallest liking them would be an extra point)

Yes!!! I love this!

This came out waaay more angsty than I intended.

Be warned: There’s self sacrifice and attempted execution ahead!

Here’s the song I used btw

You felt your squeedilyspooch churn as you landed on Judgementia.

You didn’t know why you were so surprised.

It was only a matter of time before Zim would have an Existence Evaluation.

As much as you hated to admit it, Zim was responsible for some of the worst tragedies on Irk.

From causing a massive blackout on planet, Devestus, to nearly annihilating their entire civilization during Operation Impending Doom 1; You should’ve expected this to happen a long long time ago.

Nevertheless, the mere thought of Zim having an Existence Evaluation made you burst into tears.

In spite of his numerous sins, you knew Zim never meant to cause so much trouble.

All Zim ever wanted to do was prove he was worthy of respect.

The life of a short Irken was filed with ridicule and discrimination. You could never even imagine what it felt like to be as short as Zim.

He was even shorter than Skoodge!

It was a miracle he didn’t end up a Table-headed Service drone nor The Tallest’s personal foot stool.

You thanked your lucky stars you had the privilege to train with him.

Despite all the hateful words flung his way, you quickly learned that all of them were untrue.

From the moment you met Zim, you knew he was someone extraordinary.

He had more passion, determination, perseverance, and loyalty than anyone else.

Zim fought tooth and claw every day just to prove that he was just as worthy as anyone else.

And you deeply admired him for that.

No matter what anyone else said, you always stood by Zim’s side.

You cheered him on during training, you patched up his wounds, you even listened to him vent about his day.

Whenever Zim said he’d be a Tallest someday, you genuinely believed him.

He may have been short, but by god did he have the spirit of a leader.

Over time, you and Zim begun to fall in love.

Unfortunately, due to the drastic height difference, you and Zim had to keep the relationship a secret.

As time went on, you became the highest ranking general the Irken Army had to offer and Zim became an Invader.

You couldn’t have been more proud of him! You always knew he was destined for greatness!

Even after the catastrophe that was Operation Impending Doom 1, you still never gave up on Zim.

Unfortunately, the rest of the Empire didn’t feel the same.

Not one little bit

You thought that once Zim had been banished to the far reaches of the Galaxy he would be safe!

However, Red and Purple had been planning Zim’s Existence Evaluation for quite some time now.

You tried to talk them out if it. After all, Red and Purple adored you. You were so sure they’d listen.

Oh how wrong you were.

Red and Purple simply laughed in your face and thought you were joking.

As much as you wanted to fight for Zim, you didn’t want to upset Red and Purple.

Despite their trashy behavior, Red and Purple were still The Tallest and you had to respect them whether you liked it or not.

And you really really didn’t like it.

Neither Red nor Purple had any business being in a leadership position.

Both of them were arrogant, selfish, and childish.

They didn’t give a sandworm’s last whisker about Irk! All they cared about was snacks and which poor Navigator to yell at.

You always hated being invited to ‘oversee’ their ‘projects’.

You knew damn well that was just code for asking you on a date.

You could usually get away with declining but not today.

Every Irken was required to be present for an Existence Evaluation.

And you were given a front row seat.

You dragged your feet as you slunk inside the judgement hall.

“Hey Y/N! Over here!”

The sound of Purple’s excited voice woke you from your thoughts.

You jumped a bit before scurrying over to his side.

“Ah! Y/N! Glad you could make it. This Existence Evaluation wouldn’t nearly be as enjoyable without you.” Red purred as he floated over to you.

“But it would still be pretty enjoyable. After all, Zim’s totally going to be deleted!” Purple chuckled.

“Yeah! We’ll finally be rid of him!”

Red and Purple burst into a loud fit of laughter while you fought back the urge to cry.

Had they really no shame? Not even the tiniest inkling of remorse?

You held your tongue as you turned your attention to the center of the hall.

The Control Brains loomed ominously over The Spike of Judgement as they waited fir Zim’s arrival.

You always hated those dumb Brains.

Their rules were always so ridiculous!

In fact it was their very rules that stood in the way between you and Zim!

You tried not to scowl as you took in a deep breath.

FWUMP!

Zim was tossed into the center of the Spike of Judgment.

He looked a bit bruised and confused but other than that Zim seemed fine.

“ZIM, YOUR TIME HAS COME. PREPARE FOR ALL YOU DESERVE,” The first Control Brain bellowed.

Zim jumped a bit as he felt a shudder run down his spine.

“Eh?! Oh! A surprise party?! That’s what this was all about?! I was wondering why I was beaten up and transported from Earth to this place! A party for Zim!”

Zim sounded cheerful but you knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

You could see the panic radiate from his beautiful magenta eyes.

He was simply in denial to protect his mind from the truth.

“SILENCE! ALL WILL BE MADE CLEAR ZIM.” The first Brain bellowed, almost sounding annoyed.

“Geez this is a party, lighten up!” Zim huffed as he rolled his eyes, “Hey can I make a quick call?”

The guards exchanged annoyed glances before begrudgingly agreeing.

After a few minutes, Zim returned to the center of the Spike of Judgement.

“C’mon hurry up and praise me! Every second I spend off Earth is time lost! Zim time! Because I am Zim!!”

“IT MAKES NOISES.” The second Control Brain bellowed.

“BOTHERSOME NOISES” Replied the third.

Zim looked over and let out an excited gasp.

“My Tallest! And Y/N! This really *is* a surprise party! You honor me greatly on the most wobbly gelatinous parts of my squeedilyspooch!”

You let out a whimper as you turned away from Zim’s excited grin.

“That’s Zim! Start already!” Purple commanded.

And with that, The Control Brains plugged into Zim’s PAK and begun the Evaluation.

You watched Zim’s memories playback on a large monitor next to The Control Brains.

While Zim did indeed commit quite a few atrocities, most if not all of them were the result of accidents.

It wasn’t long before Zim realized what was going on.

After a comical escape attempt, Zim was dragged back to Judgementia and plugged back into the Control Brains.

“OUR RULING: ZIM’S I.D PAK IS DAMAGED AND HAS LED TO A CORRUPT DATA PATH. HE IS...A DEFECTIVE!” The first Control Brain bellowed.

“But..I can’t live without my PAK!” Zim wailed.

Purple opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“WAIT!! Almighty Control Brains! Please spare him!”

The entire room gasped before falling silent.

“IT DARES TO DEFIE US?” Asked The second brain

“HOW FOOLISH” replied the third.

“Y/N ARE YOU CRA-“

“GENERAL Y/N. STATE WHY ZIM’S I.D PAK SHOULD NOT BE DELETED.” The first Brain ordered “YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE”

You cleared your throat and took in a deep breath.

“Almighty Control Brains, while it’s true that Zim has committed many atrocities, I believe these atrocities to be the result of mere accidents and not the result of a damaged PAK. Therefore I propose that Zim train in my boot camp in order to correct these mistakes!” Your voice was laced with a slight plea as a few tears trickled down your cheeks.

The first Control Brain hummed for a moment.

“YOUR OFFER SOUNDS INTERESTING....”

Both you and Zim lit up but it was way too early to celebrate.

“HOWEVER IT SHALL BE DENIED.”

“WHAT?!” You and Zim exclaimed in unison.

In a last ditch effort to save Zim you cried out.

“If you won’t accept my offer than delete my PAK instead!”

Another gasp echoed throughout the hall as Purple fainted into Red’s arms.

“Y/N NO! ARE YOU INSANE?!” Zim yelped.

In spite of everyone’s protests you continued.

“My PAK data is just as damaged if not more so than Zim’s! I am one of the few Irkens capable of feeling compassion and,” you looked into Zim’s eyes, “.......affection...”

“IT WISHES TO SACRIFICE ITS LIFE FOR THE DEFECTIVE’S?” Asked the second Brain.

“THIS ONE TRULY IS FOOLISH.” The third Brain tutted.

The first Control Brain almost seemed surprised

“GENERAL Y/N, ARE YOU CERTAIN YOU WISH TO SACRIFICE YOUR PAK DATA IN EXCHANGE FOR ZIM’S?”

“Y/N NO-ACK!”

ZAP!

Zim was cut of by a shock from the first Brain.

“Yes! Yes I am! Just as long as you spare Zim!” You pleaded as you looked into the many eyes of the first Brain.

“Y/N NO-“ Red cried out

“VERY WELL. IN EXCHANGE FOR GENERAL Y/N’S PAK DATA, ZIM

SHALL BE SPARED FOR NOW.” The first Brain interjected.

“Y/N!!!!! NOOOOO!!!!” Zim wailed as the first Brain released his PAK.

FWIP!

CLANG!

The first Brain latched on to your PAK and dragged you to the center of the spike of Judges.

“Control Brains! Stop this at once! General Y/N is not a defective!” Red pleaded as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“THE DECISION HAS ALREADY BEEN MADE. COMMENCING DELETION PROTOCOL!”

With another ZAP! You felt the life slowly drain from your PAK.

Zim let out a panicked cry and shoved past the guards.

“Y/N! Why...Why would you do this?! Why would you something so stupid?!”

You gave Zim a sad smile and caressed his face.

“Because I love you....”

With a soft sniffle you gazed deeply into Zim’s magenta eyes.

“One day you will realize...The stars you are chasing shine bright deep inside you...but will you ever let it shine from within... And cast all your fears aside... You’ll see the light but until that day comes...”

Zim burst into tears as he desperately clung to your gentle hands.

You winced but still tried to keep a smile.

“My dearly beloved, be strong I shall be there. Always here beside you. So keep your head held high..”

Zim tried his best to hold you close as you kept singing.

“The shadows of this world will try to steal you away into their arms but you belong in mine...”

You returned the hug and let out a soft purr.

“We are one within a dream, so hold me close and count the stars with me... All our scattered memories... I will find the pieces one by one..”

Zim clung to you for dear life.

The Control Brains lifted you up in a poor attempt to shake Zim off of you, only fir him to cling tighter.

“Solar flares fly over me... I’ll keep you in my memory...”

You and Zim were gently spinning in the air.

If Red didn’t know any better he’d assumed you and Zim had planned this as some kind of elaborate performance before Zim was deleted.

“This dream that lives within your eyes, I wish to see it come to life.”

Both you and Zim were in tears as the song continued

“A thousand blades into the sky, reach out and link our worlds, yours and mine. Let the stars rush over you. And one day I know we shall meet again!”

“My dearly beloved, be strong I shall be there. Always here beside you. So keep your head held high. The shadows of this world will try to steal you away into their arms but you belong in mine! ” Zim’s desperate plea melted with your voice.

You pulled Zim into a gentle kiss and sung softly.

“My dearly beloved...”

Just as you felt your last spark of life start to fade-

CRACK! CRASH!

Zim pulled with all his might and tore you free from The first Brain’sclutches.

Wasting no time, Zim scooped you up into his arms, hopped into his Voot and took you back to Earth with him.

Once he made it back to his base, he immediately hooked your PAK up to a medical bay.

After days of tedious labor, your F/C eyes finally opened.

“Y/N! You’re ok!” Tears of joy spilled down Zim’s cheeks as he caressed your face.

“Zim? I... I’m alive?” Your voice was dry and scratchy.

“Yes! So very much alive!”

You let out a soft laugh.

“I knew we’d meet again...”

“Yes! And I’ll never ever let you leave my side!” Zim sobbed as he gently held you close.

“Don’t worry, I promise I’ll never leave you again, My dearly beloved

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #anonymous #sorry if the formatting is weird I posted this on mobile

53 notes · View notes

tillthelandslide · 4 years

Text

Photographer : Henry Cavill Fake Instagram

Author’s note: Hi everyone. Hope you enjoy another fake instagram post. I really do enjoy making this so keep sending me requests, this one wasn’t a request but my own idea, I’m slowly working my way through some different careers so people can relate more to each one if they see their career being represented. Unfortunately, Tumblr on my phone keeps messing up, I usually like to include emojis here and there because to me it feels more real but it wouldn’t let me.

Anyway hope you enjoy - L

Tagged: @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 (if you want to be tagged in my post please message me :)

yourname_photography:

yourname_photography had an amazing day shooting with @henrycavill such a pleasure working with you love.

Liked by henrycavill and 1,891,201 others

View all 80,000 comments

fan2 your photography is so good

↳ yourname_photography aw thanks love

↳ fan3 honestly one of the best photographers out there atm

henrycavill thanks for the amazing day, I had such a nice time, you are so talented

↳ yourname_photography oh hush sir, was a joy working with you, you make my job very easy, lets just put it that way

henryfan “love” are they dating or not, we need answers

↳ ynfan she’s british, she calls everyone love, but if they were then we should all be happy for them, they don’t owe us answers

henrycavill:

henrycavill it is always such a joy when I get to work with amazingly talented people like @yourname_photography. So lucky to have you in my life, let alone get the opportunity to work together

Photo by @yourname_photography

Liked by yourname_photography, GQ and 991,892 others

View all 65,819 comments

yourname_photography oh hush, you’re the talented one in this relationship kind sir

↳ henrycavill <3

↳ fan5 relationship? are they dating?

↳ fan6 think they’re just friends but I’m happy for them if they are dating

anyachalotra so talented, these are epic

↳ henrycavill she sure is

↳ yourname_photography thank you Anya

freyaallan:

freyaallan I had such a nice time shooting today with @yourname_photography. Thank you to @henrycavill for making it happen, now I understand why you love her so much. And thank you y/n for making me look so beautiful, think these photos are the best I have ever recieved from a photoshoot.

Photo by @yourname_photography

Liked by yourname_photography, henrycavill and 431,839 others

View all 40,291 comments

fan3 “now I understand why you love her so much” ?? omg they are dating

↳ freyaallan I meant he loves working with her and loves the photos she produces, she is one of his favourite photographers

↳ fan2 good save

yourname_photography you were beautiful all on your own, needed no help from me miss. It was such a joy working with you, for sure have to do it again sometime

↳ freyaallan oh hush! and i’d love that

henrycavill glad you both had such a good time on set, i have always loved y/ns work, she has such a keen eye for this stuff

↳ fan2 this post is basically become them trying to convice us all that y/n and henry aren’t dating when we all know they are. good attempts though

photographydaily these photos are clean af

celebrumourmagazine:

celebrumourmagazine Famous Actor Henry Cavill and the photographer Y/n are now rumoured to be dating. The pair have had many photoshoots together and have a history of confusing fans with their comments on each others posts. But what is really tipping people off is a quote from Freya Allan, Cavill’s co-star in the Netflix show; The Witcher, where she said “I had such a nice time shooting today with @yourname_photography. Thank you to @henrycavill for making it happen, now I understand why you love her so much”. Allan then tried to cover her tracks by commenting on how y/n is one of Henry’s favourite photographers. Cavill too posted “I have always loved Y/ns work, she has such a keen eye for this stuff”. Seems fishy to me, wonder if we will get an explanatio soon. C’mon we deserve it.

Photo by @yourname_photography

Liked by 267,092 people

fan3 the level of disrepect in this post is on a new level. 1. referring to Henry as famous and then not using the same terminology for yn who has worked with so many famous actors, musicians, polticians etc and is renowned for her amazing word. 2. “Cavill’s co-star” she’s her own person sis. 3. “we deserve it” no you don’t, you haven’t done anything to deserve anything from them

↳ yn-hen-fan thats the tea sis

geraltofriviafans ffs leave them alone. there is the little thing people like to have. its called privacy

celebrumourmagazine:

celebrumourmagazine Famous actor Henry Cavill and Photographer caught kissing on a boat whilst on vaccation with friends and family. We knew they were dating!

Liked by 393,209 people

View all 5,092 comments

fan5 annoying that they didn’t say anything we all would have been okay with it

fan3 your comment perfectly shows how you wouldn’t have been okay with it. maybe they just wanted some privacy

fan2 I just found out that this photo amongst a few others were leaked from their phones. Ffs why can’t people respect their privacy y’all wonder why they didn’t say anything; this is why

henrycavill:

henrycavill well the cats out of the bag... not the way we intended to tell you guys which is a shame. We are very sad that this is the way you all had to find out. With both of our jobs being very demanding (we love them nonetheless and are very grateful) we don’t often get to spend time with each other so wanted some time just to ourselves, we wanted to share this amazing relationship with all of our fans when were ready but unfortunately that opportunity was taken from us. We hope you can understand: you all are very important to the both of us and we truly did want to share this with you, but both got a bit too caught up with having each other to ourselves. These photos were taken by one of our mutual friends whilst we were on holiday and were leaked from our phones. I am so shocked that they even managed to do this but I will not let them get anymore attention than that.

To my love @yourname_photography: the last couple of months with you have been bliss, I found myself falling more in love with you everyday. Your dedication to your work is truly inspiring, how deeply you care for and love those around you is second to none, you have taught me so much about so many things but the main thing I will cherish is what you have taught me about myself; you have taught me to truly accept myself and have taught me to see myself the way you see me. I love you more than I can even begin to explain and I can’t wait for what’s to come. Having you to myself has been truly wonderful but sharing how amazing you are not only to me but all those around you is something I am going to enjoy. Everyone should know the amazing things you do not only in your photography career but in other aspects of your life <3

Liked by yourname_photography, anyachalotra, freyallan and 1,203,028 others

View all 54,288 comments

yourname_photography this is too sweet Hen, I love you so much. The past couple of months with you have been absolute perfection and I will cherish them forever. You are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am beyond lucky to have you and have had you to myself but I’m ready to share you and to share us with the world

↳ henrycavill lets do this shit

freyaallan I was worried that I was going to be the one to leak the news and although I’m annoyed it came out like this I’m glad it wasn’t me XD, wish you could have announced it on your own terms though. I’m beyond happy for the both of you

↳ yourname_photography the sweetest girl <3 I thought you recovered quite well in that post XD

anyachalotra the cutest couple of all time... there, i said it

↳ yourname_photography said it you did. we are beyond grateful for you and how supportive you were of us from the get go

↳ henry cavill thank you anya, your support means the world to us

yourname_photograhy:

yourname_photography to my beloved Henry: the love you have shown me was one I didn’t believe in growing up, the kind of love I thought only excited in fairytales, books and movies. Boy oh boy was I wrong. The love you give is the kind of love everyone deserves, the kind where you give yourself to someone else fully without any selfishness or expectations. To most people you are Superman, Geralt, August Walker, Charles Brandon, Napoleon Solo and many others. But to me you are all those things and more. You are the guy that brings me my favourite soup when I’m sick, the guy that sits with me for hours trying to pick which photos from a shoot are the best, the guy that brings home lillies because you know they’re my favourite flower, the guy that sends me care packages when you are away, the guy that sends me goofy selfies of you and Kal, the guy that rubs my back and plays with my hair when I cant sleep, the guy that introduced me to my second family: the Cavill’s, the guy that works his god damn hardest everyday, the guy that puts in so much effort to raise awareness for endangered species and the fight that Durrell do, the guy that does so many amazing things yet expects nothing in return. You are the epic love of my life and I do not deserve you <3, you amazing, beautiful human, never change <3

Liked by henrycavill, anyachalotra, joeybateyofficial and 1,583,039 others

View all 45,029 comments

fan6 HOW CAN ANYBODY NOT LIKE HER? THE WAY SHE TALKS ABOUT HIM, I MEAN UGHH SO FLOOFY

fan4 this post got more likes than henrys bc everyone realised they cant not like her

↳ henrycavill you made me cry ): now come give me kisses

↳ yourname_photography im coming, oops nearly tripped over kal

↳ fan 8 haha she’s commenting as she’s doing it how cute

joeybateyofficial all the haters be like “hmm, fuck” bc they realise there is -9182 reasons to hate you

↳ yourname_photography thanks for bringing the geralt comments here, someone had to do it :)

↳ joeybateyofficial it’s a honour :) happy for both of you... always knew he was a big soft... despite his rock hard abs

↳ yourname_photography spend a lot of time looking at my boyfriends rock hard abs much then? XD

↳ henrycavill not as much as you @yourname_photography, ayeee XD

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ladyopinior · 3 years

Text

FATE: THE WINX SAGA – review

Fate: The Winx Saga is a teen drama inspired by the animated series Winx Club. The series is aimed at an audience of young adults and features a darker story than that of the cartoon (Wikipedia). In order to watch the show, you have to have to leave out of the picture most of your previous knowledge about the Winx Club. Although the show is inspired by the cartoon version, it is clear within the first few minutes of the first episode that most of the events do not match the Winx Club’s story. Now, I know that a lot of people are angry and disappointed at the fact that both Flora and Tecna do not appear in the show, that The Trix are nowhere to be seen, and that the story does not correspond with its source of inspiration. However, I think that this adaptation has potential (this will be discussed later on) - although it can bit a little bit cringy at times. Like it was said before, Winx club is merely the source of inspiration for this show, but that does not mean that Fate: The Winx Saga was going to follow the original storyline step by step as it was. If we take Winx Club as our object of comparison, I do think that the characters are fairly well matched, although some of them are lacking certain characteristics (and being honest, I am still salty about what they did with Stella):

Bloom, for example, has the same personality traits as the Original Bloom. First, let’s recap Winx Club’s Bloom’s personality: Bloom started off as an insecure girl at the beginning of the series because of her ignorance of her true origins and her strange, yet surprisingly potent powers. Later on, as she learned more about magic and herself, she grew increasingly curious about her past and whom her biological parents are. An escapist by nature, she has a tendency to run away when things get too hard or confusing for her, and can also be impatient and stubborn, with a short temper. Bloom was also impulsive at times, which led to some very bad experiences for both her and her friends. Her greatest strength and greatest weakness was her status as the guardian of the Dragon's Flame. While the Dragon Flame made her arguably the most powerful fairy in the Magic Dimension, it also consistently drew numerous enemies to her such as the Trix, Darkar, Valtor, and the Ancestral Witches. Despite her flaws, Bloom still has a heart of gold. She cares for all of her friends, allies, and families (both adopted and biological) deeply, and is always willing to help and fight for a good cause. She has shown herself to be selfless, caring, brave and a true capable leader. Bloom is tough when needed to be and always lends a helping hand to people in need (Wiki). Now that we have checked Original Bloom’s personality let’s compare it with Fate: The Winx Saga’s Bloom: she also has the same insecurities as the original Bloom - also caused by her lack of knowledge when it comes to her true origins and the fact that she is a changeling (Aisha tells her this in Episode 1). In this show we see a Bloom that is willing to learn more about her powers and magic, and that is also curious about who her biological parents are. She is also an escapist and has a tendency to run away when things get too hard or confusing for her - this is told in Episode 1 when she tells Aisha about how she lost control and nearly burnt her parents alive “Every night after that, I… I snuck out. I was so… scared that I’d hurt them again… that I slept in this… creepy-ass… warehouse near my house until Miss Dowling found me”. In this case, it is also her status as the guardian of the Dragon’s Flame that attracted the Burned Ones to her. This Bloom is also impatient, stubborn, and has a short temper. Bloom was also impulsive at times, which led to some very bad experiences for both her, her friends and the rest of students at Alfea - her decision of freeing Rosalind and letting her recharge her powers weakened the protective barrier and allowed the Burned Ones to enter Alfea risking all the teachers and student’s lives. The Original Bloom is said to be selfless, caring, brave and a true capable leader, however we can say that this Bloom is overall selfish and thinks about her interests first instead of worrying about the consequences of her acts. Although it is still too early to assume that she will be a good leader, we can’t deny that she is brave, tough and caring towards her friends and parents. Overall, I am happy with this Bloom: she matches the original one’s personality pretty accurately and in terms of physical appearance she does resemble the Original Bloom.

Now Stella… Dear God, what did they do with her… I know I said that Fate: The Winx Saga was not meant to follow the original Winx Club, but I did expect the characters to at least have the same personalities. This is where I am most disappointed. The Original Stella is said to be proud and self-centered, Stella also cares deeply about her friends and family, not just herself. She will stick to the people she loves and do anything to keep them safe. Stella is not always seen wearing a smile on her face, but she does crack jokes to cheer her friends when they are depressed. Basically, Stella has a cheerful and optimistic personality. Besides that, she is totally obsessed with fashion, which clothes look best on her, and which dresses match her face the best. Stella often gives fashion advice to people in Alfea, but this advice is often not taken well. She would rather flirt with Brandon than study and do work, which sometimes annoys the other girls. The most intuitive of all the members, Stella likes to match make but has often had problems with understanding why her friends do not always like getting set up. However, despite her intuitions, Stella can be rather oblivious at times. She was sent to Alfea to become a stronger fairy, but this did not mean so much to her, though she did effectively become a fully accomplished fairy and a powerful one by fighting the first three season villains with the Winx. She uses her magic for anything, but she mostly wants to help her friends as deep inside she is a generous and helpful girl. Although she might disagree with her friends, Stella is very supportive and protective and will not hesitate to help them. She learns to accept that love and friendship are far more important than royalty, fashion, and shopping. Sometimes she hides her true personality because of her upbringing. In short, her cheerful exterior masks great sorrow (Wiki). Well… Where do I start analyzing Fate: The Winx Saga’s Stella… I guess I will take a shot at the similarities first. This Stella is proud and self-centered - which the original one was - and she does like fashion (although I would not label her “obsessed” with it) and gives advice to Alfea’s students… kind of… she mostly critics their outfits - specially Terra’s. Like the original one, Stella was sent to Alfea to become a stronger fairy and rehabilitate from the incident that took place the previous year (meaning that she had to retake the first year again) - in Winx Club, Stella accidentally destroyed the potions laboratory but it is not stated what happened exactly; in Episode 5 of Fate: The Winx Saga, Stella tells Musa the truth of what happened the previous year - that her magic is erratic because of her mother and that that day she lost control and blinded her best friend unintentionally. And that’s about it in terms of similarities… This Stella is dependent on Sky, her ex-boyfriend (still angry at the fact that there is no Brandon, and still creeped out by these two being a couple in the past) and seeks his attention all the time. The Original Stella is the most intuitive of all the members, but to be honest I do not see that trait in this Stella. This Stella is not shown to be a helpful girl nor someone that wants to help her friends, at least not until the end of the season when she tells the others that Bloom deserves to know her truth and that she supports her “I have an opinion. Everyone in this damn suite is so black or white. Bloom is a pain in the ass, but she deserves to know who she is, not the stories the faculty is telling her. Now we can worry about being right, or we can help our friend. Which is it?” (Episode 5). Stella is not a very supportive nor protective friend and only cares about herself… and Sky, and we do not get to see that cheerful exterior the Original Stella showed. This Stella is full of sorrow and sadness, and sometimes this eclipses any other trait she might have. To be honest this Stella is just a bitch most of the time and treats the rest of the people in Alfea like her mother treats her. However, if I put aside the Original Stella for a second, I do think that this version of her can be quite enchanting: she has all the characteristics needed for a great character development in this series, in fact, you can see some change in her towards the end of the season.

Aisha is one of the characters whose personality does not bother me too much, and I do see similarities with the Original Aisha. Winx Club’s Aisha is extremely opinionated and open minded. She is as intuitive and when asked to, gives practical and pragmatic advice. She is also a talented dancer, athlete and speaks many different languages. Aisha gives practical advice and always provides a shoulder to cry on. She continuously shows this caring nature throughout the show, comforting Musa after her conflict with her father, and calming Flora's nerves when she experiences qualms about her feelings for Helia. However, besides the other girls, she might even be the most sensitive of the crew. She has also been shown to be rather stubborn and impatient, something that can get her into trouble by making her hold grudges and jump to conclusions. This could be the result of her isolated upbringing growing up, as she didn't really have many friends, making her come off as a little anti-social at times when she first appeared. Over the course of the seasons Aisha lost her tomboyish side possibly due to her opening up to the Winx and Nabu, but yet she still loves sports and still determined and energetic (Wiki). The Aisha from Fate: The Winx Saga is highly opinionated and she does not shy away from telling the rest her thoughts. She is also quite judgmental when meeting new people: in Episode 1 she helps Bloom end the call with her parents, they engage in a conversation about why Bloom’s parents do not know she is a fairy and when Bloom tells her that the idea of being a fairy is ridiculous, Aisha asks her if she has never read Harry Potter, and the conversation follows like this: B - “Please. If you knew how many hours I have wasted taking Sorting Hat quizzes…” // A - “Ravenclaw?” // B - “Sometimes Slytherin, yeah” // A - “That explains the lies then” // B - “Hm. Let me guess. Gryffindor [silence] Explains the judgment”. She is intuitive, tries to help as much as she can while being truthful (even if sometimes she ends up hurting people) and gives advice - sometimes uncalled for. But, unlike the original one, this Aisha can also seem a bit meddlesome at times. Like the Original Aisha, this one is also sporty and is shown in the series - she goes swimming every morning. Now, what I miss the most in her character is the lack of background… we know the Original Aisha is the princess of Andros, but we know nothing about this Aisha - Who are her parents? Where does she come from? What worries her? Also, we never new why the is unable to control small masses of water… we are just shown that she has trouble with it and that’s it, no more development for her. I think we should have been given more information about her and not just shown the same four traits of her personality all the time.

The next one is Musa and being honest I don’t know what to feel about her. I am not bothered by the changes made but at the same time I am (being honest there is just one change they made that deeply bothers me)… For example, the Original Musa was a fairy of music and now she is a mind fairy - a fairy who feels other people’s emotions (Wikipedia). This is not a big deal, Winx Club’s Musa was able to feels nature’s emotions thanks to the sounds it made and was very in tune with her musical side, this Musa is also linked to music but in a different way - she uses it to scape her overwhelming surroundings - and she is also able to feel emotions, it’s just that instead of natures’s it’s people’s. I guess what bothers me the most is that the Original Musa was Asian and this one is not, I do not get the need to change that about the character… I have nothing against Elisha Applebaum, the actress that plays Musa, but why couldn’t they cast an Asian actress instead? It would have brought more diversity to the show. Now that I have that out of the way, let’s focus on her personality. Winx Club’s Musa loves music, dancing, singing, and playing all instruments, but her favorite instrument is the concert flute, the first instrument she ever learned to play. Musa usually plays amazing music but plays best when she is alone by herself in Alfea in a quiet spot. Despite being the most tomboyish of the Winx, she is perhaps the most emotionally vulnerable, and she balances this by putting up a tough front. Surprisingly, Musa gets the best grades of her friends, as mentioned. Her emotional weakness is the result of her mother's death and her father is far away. She is also a bit of a loner and had a crush on Riven, but they do not admit they like each other until the end of season two when they had their first kiss, which then starts dating (Wiki). When talking about Fate: The Winx Saga’s Musa I feel like we should first address the elephant in the room… no, there is nothing going on between this Musa and Riven, in fact, they’ve had like two interactions in the whole show - I can’t say I am mad about this, we all know Winx Club’s Musa and Riven had a very toxic relationship so maybe this is a good move for this adaptation, and also, Sam seems to be good for her. Now, this Musa has said since Episode 1 that she used to dance and that she loved it just like the Original Musa, but unlike her she doesn’t seem to play any instruments. However, she likes to listen to music alone by herself in her room or a quiet spot. She is also emotionally vulnerable and puts on a tough front. Just like Winx Club’s Musa, this Musa’s emotional weakness is the result of her mother's death which she tells Terra in Episode 6 after she asks her to help Sam ease the pain he is feeling after having been infected by a Burned One: T - “You can’t just run away. He’s in pain. And dad’s trying, but—” // M - “Please just leave me alone” // T - “I know you care about him” // M - “That’s the problem. I can’t feel it. I can’t feel somebody I care about die. Not again” // T - “What? … Musa…” // M - “My mum died last year, Terra. And I was with her, and I felt it, the moment it happened. I felt everything she felt. That’s why I can’t talk about my family, and that’s way I can’t be with Sam now. I can’t feel it. Please don’t make me feel it again”. One thing we don’t know about is wether she gets the best grades out of the group because we have never seen her study. Also, we know that she hates not being able to fight along with the Specialists and she is bother by the idea of having weak powers. Being honest, I am not disappointed with this Musa, in fact, I quite like this character but there are a couple of things I would like to know: once again I would have loved to see the moments she shares with the rest of the group because I can only remember her being open with Terra, maybe if they had included a couple of scenes of her bonding with the rest the friendship would have made more sense. I also wish that in season 2 (if they make it) they focus more on her, she has great potential to expand her powers… maybe let her fight with the rest of the fairies and the Specialists, getting to know more about her family and background, and also giving her more bonding time with other members of the group and not just Terra (but I get why they chose her to be her closest friend, I mean, she is her roommate and is dating her brother).

Now, now, now… let’s talk about probably the most “controversial” character: Terra, not Flora but Terra. This the character that people where most disappointed with when the trailer was released, mostly because she is not Flora. Now, another elephant in the room: a lot of people who had watched Winx Club did not like the idea of having a plus sized character, especially when it was supposed to be a Winx. However, I think it is a great move including a plus size girl - the show being inclusive in this aspect is showcasing that anyone can be a Winx, because your size does not matter at all with the strengths you may have, so I approve this change, I applaud it. Another thing that disappointed fans was the fact that Terra is white - now, we don’t now Flora’s ethnic because it was never stated in Winx Club but many people believe that because of her skin color she had to be Latina… I don’t know about this because Miele, her sister, is white so… I guess you can believe what you want in this case but taking into account that Miele is white, and that Terra is just a cousin then the change made there it’s not that horrible (except that it narrows down the diversity in the main cast of the show). Also, another thing that left audiences speechless was that Flora was in fact mention in the show, but as Terra’s cousin “Shocking. Earth fairy called Terra likes plants. It’s a family thing. I’ve got this cousin called Flora” (Terra in Episode 1), I guess everyone though that the producers making an adaptation from an already existing show would mean that at least the names of the main characters would remain the same, but clearly that was not the case. All of that being addressed, I am still going to compare Terra with Flora, mainly because they are supposed to be “the same” person. So, Flora is shown to be a very calm, soft-spoken, caring, sweet, shy and genuine girl who loves plants and vegetation of all kinds. Being interested in experimenting with her plants, Flora became the potion master of the group who specializes in brewing and creating remedies and medicines from the uses of her magical plants. Due to her gentle and caring personality, Flora is strongly connected to nature and loves helping people. She is shown to have a sensitive personality to the point where she would instinctively care for her friends as well as her plants when they are in distress. Flora is the most mature member of the Winx as she possesses a deep sense of love, peace, happiness and tranquility. However, it is shown that Flora has an insecure side to her personality as she would have problems believing in herself at times. Her insecurity would sometimes cause her to hide most of her feelings to the point where she would have problems expressing them. Flora is one of the most diligent student at Alfea and is cautious of her actions. Although she has a kind-hearted side, she at times gets very angry at her enemies which can cause her to act quickly and show a more aggressive side of herself. As an older sister, she is shown to be quite overprotective who often forgets that people do mature and can protect themselves. Miele often has to deal with this side of Flora whenever the latter suspects a mission to be too dangerous. In this case, Flora has demonstrated some level of ignorance as this attitude tends to hurt Miele's feelings (Wiki). If you have read Flora’s personality, then you would have realized that Terra is just the same. Literally, there is very little I can add here… both of them are very calm, soft-spoken, caring, sweet, shy and genuine girls with sensitive personalities; both of them love plants and vegetation of all kinds; both are interested in experimenting with plants and their properties and creating potions; both love helping people; both have shown signs of insecurity and would have problems believing in themself at times. Terra’s insecurity would also sometimes cause her to hide most of her feelings to the point where she would have problems expressing them. Terra also shows quick responses when it comes to protecting her friends and herself and becomes more aggressive. I guess the biggest difference between them would be that Terra is insecure about her body, in Episode 2 this is clearly seen when she is unable to change in front of the rest of her friends. Overall, I do like Terra, in fact, I think is the best character of them all. I literally have no complains when it comes to her. I declare myself a big fan of Terra.

The next character I am going to talk about is the new addition to the Winx World: Beatrix, who is supposed to embody The Trix in one person. Beatrix is an air fairy who can manipulate electricity (Wikipedia). Now, we all know that The Trix are a trio of witches who act as the main antagonists of the Winx Club series. The group is made up of three direct descendants of the Ancestral Witches, the most powerful and evil witches to have ever existed. They focus on what they are best at: acting maliciously and joining forces with the darkest villains the Magic Dimension has to offer (Wiki). These three witches are Icy, Darcy and Stormy and if my interpretation is correct, Beatrix would have the “looks” of Darcy, the evilness of Icy and the powers of Stormy, however as it was said before she is an air fairy which means that she can manipulate many aspects of the weather spectrum, so her actual powers can be a combination of Icy and Stormy’s. I still don’t know if she is evil or not… I mean, she helped Rosalind but that’s because she saved her when she was a baby so… I don’t know, we’ll see what happens with her in season 2 (if we get one). What we know about her is that she is a troublemaker, and she does not hesitate to kill if it’s needed. She is also a very powerful witch, powerful enough to temporarily damage the protection veil placed by Luna (queen on Solaria) upon Aster Dell and also powerful enough to control other people with electricity. Although we don’t have enough information about her or her background, I think she is a great addition to the adaptation and I’m hoping to see more of her.

Now that I have these characters out of the way I would like to talk about the plot. I actually watched the show trying to forget any knowledge I had about the Winx Club - which was not easy because I breathed Winx when I was a child, and after getting pass the fact that the storylines are completely different, I actually found myself enjoying the show. The plot is definitely a lot darker than Winx Club, but I guess it’s normal, after all this is aimed for young adults and not kids. As I said at the beginning of this post, I do think the show has potential: the plot is interesting and by the end of the show you find yourself seeking answers to all the open questions left. For example: Who is Rosalind and what does she want from Bloom? Why did she take her to Earth? What is going to happen between Stella and her mother? And Sky and his now-I am-not-dead-but-you thought-I was father? And what is going to happen with Silva? What is going to happen to the students of Alfea with Rosalind as Headmistress of the school? What is this war - mentioned by Rosalind in Episode 6 to Farah Dowling - that is about to come? Is Headmistress Dowling really dead? Will we be hearing more about blood witches? Who sent the Burned Ones after Bloom? And many more. I also think that having the Burned Ones as the monsters of this season is a great throwback tho the end of Winx Club’s season 1: if you remember in the war between The Trix and the Magic World, the three witches invoke the dark army to fight for them - these creatures are made purely of dark magic and slightly resemble the Burned Ones, although I am aware of the fact that they are not the same - Burned Ones are zombie-like figures that appear to be able to infect others by cutting them, in addition to possessing superhuman speed and strength.

I have to make a comment here, and that is that I think that the storyline was way too rushed, although I get that there’s so much one can show in 6 episodes of 40 minutes each. Still, I would have liked them to cut down the horny scenes between the characters and showed us more scenes of the main characters backgrounds, their stories, etc. I guess what I missed the most in this series was the friendship that characterized Winx Club. Although by the end of the first season the five girls are friends (in Episode 6 all of them go with Bloom to California to tell her parents that she is a fairy - emotional support - and stayed a few days there, and when they came back to Alfea they did it together laughing and smiling while reaching the school’s entrance), most of the journey that allowed the girls to reach that point was not shown - specially how they get along with Stella and the moments they shared prior to her leaving Alfea at the end of Episode 4. I would have liked to know the moments they shared, because all we got was the same bitchy Stella doing her own thing while the rest shared their moments, so when Stella tells her mother in the car “You could’ve let me say goodbye to my friends” I was left deeply confused and thinking ‘what friends?’… It was a missed opportunity and if there is a season 2 I would like them to show the moments the girls share and how their bond strengthens. Overall, I did like the show and would like to have more seasons with more episodes - 6 were not enough for me. I hope that, if the show gets picked up for another season, that the producers consider focusing more on the girls’ friendship and their stories. I also would like for the Winx to transform like Bloom did and that their wings improve (honestly Bloom’s wings were cool but a little bit meh, I actually think the trailer’s wings were better).

And that’s all my beautiful people, my review on Fate: The Winx Saga.

(Fun fact: Fate in Italian means fairies).

#winx #fate: the winx saga #netflix #winx bloom #winx stella #winx aisha #winx musa #winx terra #fate beatrix #winx sky #winx riven #winx club #winx saga

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 2

Post 1

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, smut (IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN, DON'T READ!!!)

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One of the perks of being “enhanced” or in this case, a super soldier, is that you heal quickly. Within seventy-two hours, the bullet wound in his leg (not to mention the cut and black eye he sustained from several sharp blows to the face) and her matching one in the shoulder are almost completely healed, only a vague pink mark to show they were ever injured. The downside is-

“Do you want to punch sandbags until they fly off the hook, or run thirty miles around the compound first? I’ll start with whichever you don’t pick.” -they’re back to training as well.

He almost answers that he really doesn’t want to do either, it’s Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake, but it’s not like this is her first choice for what she could be doing this morning either, so he goes with-

“Punching things first. Think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, so I’d best get it out of my system.” She nods and, squeezing his arm, takes off at a jog.

“See you on the other side.”

His instinct is to tell her to take it easy, she lost a lot of blood the other day and who knows if there’s been some bone or muscular damage that hasn’t quite fixed itself yet, but again, he swallows it down and focuses on the task at hand. Namely, taking out his bad mood on a punching bag.

Usually, when his body is in motion, his mind is at least somewhat at rest, but this time around, the exertion is just adding fuel to the flames. He’s too pissed off to just zone out and concentrate on hitting the target, still too busy trying to process what the hell happened three nights ago.

It was their first mission together. She’s been on a few separate from him, and he and Sam get called out together on the regular. Stupidly, he assumed that, since her specialty is translating or gathering intel, maybe being the little voice in someone’s ear to direct them through a maze of assailants and twisting corridors her visions had allowed her a glimpse of ahead of time, she’d be out of the line of fire. At the very least, most of the attention would be on him and Sam. But no, she was the bogey. She drew fire while he waltzed through a military fortress, recapturing stolen tech. When Rhodey so much as mentioned that possibility, he should’ve told him no, hard no. If anyone’s drawing fire, it’s him. Still, in his arrogance, he assumed it wouldn’t come to that extreme. Sam’s good at his job, and as much as he hates the reason behind it, so is he. They should’ve been able to hold the line without her painting a target on her back.

That, of course leads to yet another issue. He’s also pissed at himself for instinctively seeing her as more fragile, something that needs to be protected. Even before the same chemicals running through his veins infected her, she’d proven that she’s a damn capable person. He knows that she’s smart, both strategically and academically. Add onto that the fact that she’s fast and strong, not to mention she has visions (less than helpful ones most of the time, but they have their moments), and she’s a powerful ally. He certainly wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And yet, when he saw that she’d been hit, his mind completely emptied. He wouldn’t have been able to remember which end of a gun to use if his life depended on it, because all he could think was, “Oh god. She’s hurt.” It’s old-fashioned, outdated. He should be past this mindset, at least when it comes to work. Out there, she’s his fellow soldier, not the woman he lies awake next to in bed, sometimes for hours, just to listen to her breath and know he’s not alone. Did Steve ever put Peggy in that box, he wonders? No, of course not, because Steve’s a better man than he ever was or will ever be. So yeah, he’s pissed off at himself.

And finally, although he can barely admit it to his own mind, he’s pissed off at her. Logically he knows it’s mostly fear, some primal instinct to protect what’s his, but every time he imagines her being shot, having a bullet pass by her lungs and arteries by a very narrow margin, and then telling Sam not to let him know that she was hit, it irks him. Did she think he’d come unhinged? Screw up? Or is she stuck in the mindset she seems to have adopted as a response to the last five years of “Screw looking after myself. It doesn’t matter.” A small part of him realizes that he didn’t call in either when he took a bullet, but that’s him! And, now he’s circling back to guilt for treating her like she’s weak.

All in all, he’s so damn furious that he doesn’t realize he’s no longer alone until she grabs hold of his arm just as he goes to swing again.

“Jesus, Bucky. I know you’re grouchy, but don’t you think destroying five punching bags in thirty minutes is enough? Save some aggression for the run.”

He looks up to tell her something (I’m sorry? Damn right I’m grouchy? Let me take you home and wrap you in blankets so that nothing will ever hurt you again?) and catches sight of her sweat-soaked face. He hates how far she takes things with the running. It’s like she’s trying to see what the limits are, how much she can punish her body before it gives out and she drops. That’s what it was in the very beginning after the snap. She’s told him that. Now he wonders if she’s really as recovered from everything that’s happened as she claims.

“Have you had anything to drink? Water, or-” She groans and reaches to detach the punching bag (there’s a decent sized rip in it where he was hitting it over and over), making her shirt ride up. Her clothes were already so tight that just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was making it hard to think, but now they’re completely adhered to her in a way that’s nearly obscene thanks to all the sweat. Dammit. Think about something else. He needs to think about something else.

“Yes, I’m on my second water bottle, thank you Barnes. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Just self-destructive.” It slips out before he can stuff it down. Her mouth falls open in shock momentarily, but then she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes.

“You’re one to talk. Always running straight towards the fire instead of putting it out first.”

“That’s my job.”

“It’s your hangup.” She laughs bitterly. “Bucky Barnes, the big, bad Winter Soldier. You’ve decided you’re so fucked up that the only way you can make amends is to run headlong towards whatever’s trying to kill you, without backup I might add, and keep to your mission no matter what your personal damage is.”

“Says the woman who took a bullet and stopped Sam from announcing that you’re hit.” They’re teetering closer and closer to a fight with every nearly snarled word, but he’s powerless to stop it. In fact, he’s ready to go. Have it out. But not right now, because-

“Hey.” He catches her arm just as she starts to hoist another punching bag onto the hook. “Be careful! You’re still healing.” -she’s hellbent on hurting herself. Again.

She whirls around as if he’s slapped her.

“Oh my god. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop treating me like I’m going to break!” Her voice is shrill, rising higher and higher with each syllable. “I love you, but you are driving me insane. I am not your child-”

“No, you’re the person I want to marry!” He takes a deep breath, preparing to follow up with, “-and you keep acting like you have a death wish”, but before he can-

“You won’t even fuck me anymore!” Immediately, her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth.

If her declaration surprised her, it absolutely stunned him so, not quite sure what else to do, he takes a few steps back and sits down. A few seconds pass before she approaches and, with a heavy sigh, sinks down next to him.

“Bucky, I am so sorry. I don’t know where any of this is coming from-”

“I think you do, Doll.” Her eyes dart nervously between his face and the floor. On instinct, he reaches over and takes her hand. “And so do I.” He takes a few moments to rearrange his thoughts before pushing ahead. “A lot has changed since-”

“The world ended. We lost. And then we won.” He nods.

“Yeah, and I don’t think either of us have quite wrapped our heads around it. I know I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then, voice trembling, she tells him,

“After you went away, I was completely lost. Didn’t know why I had to stay. What kind of cruel trick is it, just when everything was starting to go right-” He finally had the poison of HYDRA sucked out of him, she’d found a safe place where she didn’t have to run and hide because of something she was born with, he’d worked up the nerve to ask her if she’d maybe one day be his wife. “-and then it’s wiped out? You finally went somewhere I couldn’t follow.” He still can’t imagine what those five years must’ve been like, not just for her, but everyone else who survived the snap. “I didn’t want to keep going. But I had to.” She chuckles. “Steve wouldn’t let me throw in the towel.”

A smile forms on his own face. “Yeah, he had a habit of doing that.”

“I guess…” She sighs. “I don’t know. I got harder, rougher around the edges. I thought I could just go back to normal once everyone came back-”

“But old habits die hard.” It’s not a question, but she nods.

“Yeah, and as much as I chip away at it, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to who I was before.”

“You won’t.” She peers up at him, eyes wide in shock, maybe a hint of sadness. “I can tell you that right now from experience. You won’t go back, but-” He’s had a lot of time to consider this, so he can say it and absolutely believe it. “-I love the girl that’s here now. She’s pretty amazing, rough edges and all.”

She’s sitting so close. He could pull her into his lap, just hold her for a minute. So, that’s what he does, and just like the first time, they fit together perfectly, like she was made to fit in his arms, or maybe he was made to hold her. Either way, it leaves no doubt in his mind that they belong together.

“You changed. Everyone does. You got stronger and tougher, because that’s who you had to be. And I wasn’t there to change with you.” He can feel her shoulders shake, and even though she’s facing away from him, he knows she’s fighting back tears. “But I’m gonna catch up. It’s just taking me a while to get it through my thick skull that my girl’s a badass, and I need to ease off the bodyguard routine a little.” There. That’s more like it. A laugh, even if it’s a small one. “I just worry about you, is all. I don’t know how to stop it, and I’m not sure I can, but I’m working on it.”

“I worry about you too, you know.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with her hand. “I’m fucking terrified because, now that I’m like you, I know what your limits are. I’m scared you’ll forget them, or you’ll ignore them because you’re trying to be a good man.” She cranes her head, meeting his gaze. “But you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. You never stopped being one, no matter what you think.”

“I think your picture of me might be more flattering than who I really am.”

“Shut up.” She presses her palm over his mouth. “I have visions, so seeing is never my problem. And it’s not the way I’m picturing you. We’ve known each other long enough for the shine to wear off.” Never. It’ll never be possible for him to know her so long that she’s not absolutely golden from where he’s standing. “It’s who you’ve shown me you are. And if the rest of the world doesn’t see it, that’s their problem. Not yours.”

He’s not sure if he buys all that, but it’s enough that she does. She sees him as that man, so he’ll try every day of his life to be just that.

“Come on.” Gently pushing her off of him, he stands and offers her his hand. “That’s enough training for today. We’re still wounded.”

She chuckles. “Is that your excuse for calling it early?”

He nods, barely suppressing a grin. “That, and you’ve gotta change into something that doesn’t fit you like a second skin before my brain permanently short-circuits.”

“Showers, then?”

“Showers.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The compound sustained heavy damage thanks to Thanos crashing a ship into it, but in the past few months (helped along by Pepper’s billions and the entire galaxy’s appreciation towards the Avengers in equal parts), enough repairs have been done to make it partially usable. In this case, the locker room. Just the one, though. Which, of course means co-ed showers.

She won’t admit it, but she’s particularly appreciative of that little detail today. As she circled the compound on her last lap, she saw that the only two cars there are hers and Barnes. They’re the only two people here, and she fully intends to use that to her advantage.

“Join me? I don’t want to overextend my shoulder trying to wash my hair or back.” It’s a blatant lie, and from his expression, she can tell that he knows it too. But, he nods.

“Yeah, doll. I can do that.” Part one of the plan has been executed beautifully. Onward to part two.

She purposely leaves the travel sized bottles of shampoo and body wash on the floor so that, after rinsing off for far longer than is really necessary, she has to bend over to retrieve them. If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she’d completely miss the sharp intake of breath in response to her little show, but she catches it and can’t help grinning to herself. Part two: get him as worked up as she is. So far, so good.

The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, working the shampoo through her hair, is almost enough to make her forget that she’s a woman on a mission. Almost. As soon as she’s rinsed the soap out of her face, she turns to him.

“Your turn. Bend.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and as always, she has to fight back a laugh as he inclines his head towards her, the entirety of his hair falling forward to cover his face. “This used to take a lot longer before you decided to chop it all off.” He chuckles, eyes closed against the soap.

“What can I say? Seventy-three years without a haircut is my limit.” She can’t blame him, and although it was a shock at first, she’s come to like this new look. It makes him look…younger, somehow. More boyish. Like his life hasn’t contained as many horrors as they both know full well it has.

“You checking for lice or something?”

“Huh?” That jerks her out of her sentimental daze. “Looks like you’re clear.”

There’s no way to put it politely. She’s straight up ogling him as he rinses off. Five damn years…

“Ready to get your back?” And, she just got caught staring.

“Sure.”

His hands are gentle, putting as little pressure on her injured shoulder as possible, growing firmer as they work down her back. She holds her breath as she feels his palms ghost over the swell of her ass, but then he’s back to safer territory. At least, that’s what she thinks until the metal arm snakes around her chest, just below her breasts, holding her in place. His free hand runs down from her sternum to her middle, stopping just above her hips, then- fuck. Nothing. He’s backing away.

“Do you need help with your legs?” No, what she needs help with is located between them. Suddenly, the shower feels far too hot, and she’s desperate to cool off.

“That’s okay.” Her voice is shaky, and she mentally berates herself as she steps under the spray, rinsing away the soap.

She’s not at all sure that her excuse for leaving the shower and going to towel off made any sense, but with a few feet between them, she’s able to breath again. Alright, scratch the whole “shower seduction” idea. It wasn’t that great to begin with. She gets him as hot and bothered as she is, and then what? Shower sex is a slippery affair, and plus there’s the height difference… in the steamed up mirror, she catches sight of him climbing out of the shower and toweling off. Fuck it. What does she have to lose?

“Come here.” As he turns around, she hops up on the counter top (thank fuck Stark went all out and got the sinks that can easily hold the weight of an adult), allowing her towel to slip further down her chest.

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit down to her cleavage before settling back on her face as he stands in front of her.

“Yeah, Doll?”

“Let me get your hair. You’ll never get it dry yourself.” She’s really running low on excuses, but if she plays her cards right, she won’t have to keep up this ruse for much longer.

“You know-” She murmurs against his ear as she starts working a towel over his tousled locks, “-if you don’t take me right now, I’m gonna be really offended.”

His head snaps up, and she nearly drops the towel.

“Well, I can’t let that happen, can I?”

She has a smart-ass remark all planned out, but then his lips are pressed against hers, hard, insistent, and her brain completely empties of anything other than pure need. She’s not completely sure how, but somehow the towel wrapped around her torso (it’s so short, it didn’t even cover her ass sitting down) disappears, leaving them chest to chest, both still slightly damp from the shower. On instinct, her legs wrap around his back, bringing them so close together she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh.

“The floor, or-” It’s murmured against her ear between nibbles.

“No. Here.” It’s all she can do to hold back a moan as his whole body rumbles with quiet laughter.

“Someone’s eager.”

She leans back far enough to peer into his eyes.

“And you’re not?” The response is a thumb against her clit, and she has to bite down hard on his shoulder to muffle a yelp.

“If I’d known you were ready, you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past two months.” That would’ve been a very small price to pay.

Five years is a long time, and her body tenses up at the intrusion of his finger inside of her, but she immediately forces her muscles to relax, and within seconds, it’s all she can do not to writhe against him.

“That’s it. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” It’s a lost cause. This is going to be noisy. She hazily thinks to herself that it’s all his fault.

He’s always been one for foreplay, making sure she’ll be comfortable once they actually get around to the main event, but finally enough is enough and, reaching between them, she stills his wrist.

“Get inside me.”

“Are you sure? You’re still tight-” Disentangling one of her arms from around his neck, she gives his hair a sharp tug.

“I’m like you now, remember? You’re not going to break me.”

He pulls back from her, hesitating, eyes darting between her face and the door.

“What?”

“I don’t have-” Oh. She quickly runs the calculations in her head. Given which day of the month it is, the likelihood would be-

“It’ll be fine. Just pull out.” To her relief, he doesn’t argue.

Her breath catches as he pushes inside of her, and if the panting against her neck is anything to judge from, she’s not the only one affected.

“It’s been too damn long.” Despite the situation (or perhaps because of it), she laughs breathlessly.

“You think it’s been too long? Try five fucking years!” His laugh tickles her neck.

“You’re never gonna stop using that one, are you?”

“Nope. I think I’ve earned the right.” After all, he constantly reminds her that he had to wait 98 years to meet the love of his life, so fair is fair.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“Sounds like you just set yourself a challenge.”

“Guess I’d better get to work then.” As he says it, he pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in again.

It’s primal, the way their bodies move together, desperate for a connection that’s been missing for so long. There’s no room or need for words to be spoken; their gasped breaths and strangled moans say it all. His hand sneaks between them, toying with her nub, and that’s what sends her over the edge. It’s the tipping point for him too because, muffling his cries against her shoulder, he pulls out just in time.

“We shoulda done that before the shower.” She’s still gasping for breath, but it forces a laugh from her. He follows suit, offering her a spare towel to clean herself up.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He shoots her a questioning look as she hops down on shaky legs. “I thought it was good before, but damn.”

He laughs, pulling on his jeans. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the bed. I’m a gentleman like that.” She knows the real concern was her safety, but if she concentrates on that too hard, she’ll start going mushy, and in this instance, crying after sex seems like it would kill the mood.

“You know-” She pulls her t shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. “-I never really liked the bed I have now anyway.” It’s also really too small for two full-grown adults to share comfortably.

Sliding his duffle bag over his shoulder, he takes her hand. “Then maybe we should go home? Give you an excuse to get a new one?” Before she can answer-

“Go home. Please, I’m begging you, for the love of god, go.” Her eyes dart towards the source of the noise. The door, or more specifically, the other side of it. “Hearing you and the bionic man fucking once was enough. I’m gonna shoot you both and then myself if I have to listen to round two.”

Bucky catches her eye and mouths “Oops!”, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You know Sam, you could’ve just walked away. You didn’t have to wait outside the door like a creep.” She has to bite her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yeah, trust me. I could hear you from all the way down the hall.”

“Sorry.” She gasps it out between bouts of laughter, and she must be pulling a funny face, because he snickers to.

“No, you’re not.” No, she really isn’t. Just that they got caught.

“We’re heading out. You’ve got the place to yourself.” Giving his hand a tug, she pulls open the door, revealing a flustered Sam.

“I hope you remembered to wipe down the counter, you nasties!”

As they make their way down the corridor, Bucky calls out,

“See you Monday?”

“Yeah. And you’d better be wearing pants!”

#marvel #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #post endgame #smut #part 2

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