#Also why do I always make Nines suffer?

[gyusimp]

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]

ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

can you do one where the reader has *terrible* periods (im talkin cramps, headaches, while nine yeards) but does their best to push through them and how 141 + ale, rudy, and konig react to them <3 (also i really do like the way you did your masterlist its v neat and put together)

Literally me every month 😭 this one’s for the nightmare period squad, I love y’all and I’m right there with you (thank you love!) (I’m sorry for leaving Rudy and Ale out, it’s a little much for me I’m so sorry 😭)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s pretty attuned to you, he has a sense when something’s up, so he decides to keep an eye on you throughout the day

You’re sweating a little more than usual and looking a little clammy when you’re on the treadmill (hoping beyond hope that working out will help) (… it doesn’t)

He’s watching you during the briefing, your hands are clenching your abdomen, your breathing is a little irregular, and your left eye twitches occasionally. You’re masking your discomfort and you’re doing it well enough to fool everyone else but him. He sees you make a detour to the clinic on base and walk out with a small heated water bottle pressed against your stomach

He stops by your room to see that your usual coffee is replaced with peppermint tea, the lights are dim, and you’re sitting at your desk, curled over the table with paperwork scattered under your head. He announced himself with a knock and you bolted upright, you winced almost immediately

“Easy love, it’s just me.” He chuckled, “Doin’ alright?” He eyed the tea and turned the bottle of pills in his hand,

“Of course, always.” You we’re out of breath, “Why?”

“Don’t make me ask.”

“Ugh fine. It’s my period, I’m sorry.” He tossed the bottle in his hands at you and you caught it not very gracefully.

“Don’t be. You’ve done more in your state than most of them do normally. Just… take a rest. Take your meds. You’ve done enough.”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He doesn’t really notice, you’re unfortunately good at hiding your symptoms (save for the obvious bleeding and the wrappers in the trash)

Honestly he’s amazed you can go about your day so effortlessly with all that going on

He’s watching you catch up on some chores when he starts to notice the wince in your eyes when you move a certain way, you’re putting away laundry fresh from the dryer and pressing the warm clothes tightly against your lower abdomen

You’re in the kitchen and you’re massaging your temples, breathing heavily, leaning against the counter, shaking your head and continuing with your task

“Alright, bonnie, that’s enough. Let get you set up.”

“Johnny, baby, I’m fine.”

“Sure ya are, I’m just taking care of that fine arse for you since you won’t.” He winked at you, he walked you back to bed, grabbing your heating pad and menstrual relief pills from the bathroom.

“Take it easy, hen, let’s get some movies going, yeah?”

John Price:

He knows your tells. Not only because he lives with you and sees the wrappers in the trash, but because he can feel the shift

You start to take on tasks that you’d normally pass on, whether it’s to prove to him or yourself that you can muscle through it

You don’t need to prove anything to him sweetheart, he knows how strong you are, just let him take care of you

He tells you as much but you wave him away and continue with what you were doing

He gets a little frustrated because he knows you’re suffering, he knows how hard your periods hit you, just let him help you damn it

So he sets up a little trap, he asks you to help him in the bedroom, and being the big strong girl you are, you go in ready to help but he wrap you in a big blanket and swings you over his shoulder, he set you down on the bed, tucked under the blankets, half-heartedly glaring at him.

“Rest, darling, please.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He knows how bad your periods are and he doesn’t let you move an inch out of bed, he’s super doting, and he spoils you absolutely rotten

Even if you insist you can muscle through it, he won’t let you

Dishes need to be done? He’s got it. Groceries? Instacart that mf. Laundry? Say no more queen. Gotta make dinner? No you don’t.

He’s got your heating pad cranked up as high as you need it to be, your comfort show or movie is playing and he’s got your meds and some water ready for you when you need

Period care king tbh.

König:

Schatz please, you only make it worse, he knows that and you know that, but he’ll always remind you

He lets you press on about your day, doing whatever you can to distract yourself from the pain, but as soon as he sees you clutch your stomach and double over when you think he can’t see you, he steps

“Liebling, please you’re hurting me.”

“König, don’t start.” You sighed exasperated, he’s willing to deal with a lot but when it comes to your well-being, he doesn’t fuck around,

“Beg your pardon, schatz?”

Oops.

“Fine. Do your worst.” You relented, he smiled mockingly at you (not in a malicious way),

“That’s what I thought.”

You’re buried under blankets, your electric heating pad spread over your abdomen, water and medicine is on your nightstand, and you’re so grateful König knows you as well as he does.

[satoruhour]

AFTERCARE

a/n: an aftercare collection from da old blog, enjoy! plus also i had an anon asking abt nanami aftercare !!! u read my mind lol / tagging @na-t0, @jabamin who do i tag !!!!!

wc: 2k

warnings: overall fluff, contains nsfw at the start, pet names for all, praise, protected sex, implied breeding, tickle fight (gojo), unprotected sex, creampie/breeding (geto & nanami), implied fwb, cuddling, unprotected sex, creampie/breeding (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

“oh, good girl, that’s it,” gojo mumbles out breathlessly, forehead against yours as you both come together. his lips continue to mutter out praises because he knew how much they affected you, and he hopes that you’d forget all of his saccharine words just so he could make you shiver and whimper all over again. your back arches into his hold one last time, digging your nails into his back.

“you did so well for me — shit — i didn’t think you still had any energy left,” gojo laughs breathlessly at how tired you two were after a mission, yet you know none of you could hold back on each other when passion took over. there’s a slight smile lingering on his face at your sweat-filled forehead and heaving chest and he loves, loves that he’s the only one to make you feel this way. the way moonlight weaves through the window makes you look stunning, and gojo’s smile can’t help but widen.

“what?”

he shrugs, removing his flaccid cock from you and eventually, the condom from himself. he ties a knot quickly, dumping it into the trash beside the bed, but before he can make a move to the bathroom to get you a wet towel, he feels your weight on his arm. it makes his heart flutter and sends shivers down his spine at the thought of doing away with contraception altogether — how would you look with his baby? who’s features would they get? what— 

“satoru.” gojo snaps out of his stupor, observing silently while you moved across the bed to him (hell, you sometimes forget he has a king sized), kneeling so you’d almost be at his height. “why were you smiling at me earlier?”

he eyes you with a levelled stare, grin turning into a smirk, “nah, no, it was nothing, baby.”

“hmm… really?” your arms hang limply over his shoulders, “i feel like i should know, you know.”

gojo simply winks, cutting off the teasing atmosphere with a deep kiss before he takes advantage of the situation, hands flying to your sides and you yelp, loudly. your laughter breaks through the quietness at 1am, making your stomach hurt and body squirmy.

“just planning a tickle attack s’all, princess.”

“y-you— fiend!” you try your best to escape the torture, but gojo is relentless in seeing you suffer, his laughter mixing with yours as his initial agenda is yet again interrupted. “satoru!” you both collapse into the soft sheets, giggles slowly subsiding to broad smiles as you admire the other, and him, you.

“god, you’re beautiful.” gojo’s stare bores into you and you avoid eye contact just like every other time he’s told you that, but your lover made it a point to make it clear to you.

“i love you, my pretty girl.”

✶ GETO

geto doesn’t stop giving you kisses even when he releases in you, helping you through the overstimulation by holding you tight until the euphoric feeling subsides and everything halts. there’s a moment of quietness, save for some concerned questions from your boyfriend like he hadn’t just blown your back out.

“sweetheart? you okay?” his eyebrows knit together, always worried that he might’ve hurt you in any way. but you’re always too tired to answer after, simply settling for a delicate hand to his face and a faint nod.

“kiss me,” it comes out as a whisper and dies out, dazed and still on cloud nine and geto indulges you like the lovestruck lover he is. even if he doesn’t need your palm to guide him, he lets your hand bring him right to your lips where they lay waiting. his kiss is soft, unlike before, moulding against your lips perfectly and like always, it makes you sigh and smile. “how’re your lips always so soft?”

geto smiles, hair falling from his loose hair tie. it shields his face and you think he looks like a greek god. “they just are, darling.”

your boyfriend’s always prepared when it comes to cleaning you up, so he usually has towels draped across the bedside table’s railing. wetting it with some water, he warns you gently with the free hand that strokes your thigh.

“but i also sorta use the lip balm gojo uses.” he cheekily admits, hand still diligently wiping at your core. he makes sure to cover it one, twice, thrice, before turning around to stand up. “i can buy it and we’ll share it instead.”

from here, his eyes skim over how the sheets cover you, and how your pose is provocative yet guarded — like an unnamed muse in a romanticism painting. there’s a teasing tone in your smile, a slow and languid drag to your movements. your dramatic gasp cuts off his thoughts, and your acting falls apart when you see geto’s jaw dropping in faux shock, “so you’ve been indirectly kissing your best friend this whole time? how dare you, suguru?”

geto slaps you lightly with the towel, laughing, “you’re crazy.”

“and that’s why you love me.”

he simply rolls his eyes, crawling back onto the bed to come face to face with you, the you who’s still feeling a bit playful, the you who grins at him and thinks that you like your suguru unkempt and messy and drunk in love with you.

the kiss tastes a bit like cigarettes, a little less prominent than earlier, but it tastes like him, nevertheless. “yeah, yeah. although, you’re the only one i’d wanna kiss — no one else, but you.”

✶ NANAMI

nanami groans into your neck with a final thrust, skin feeling the way your body shivered and trembled at how his cock twitches in you. he pumps you full, drinking in the moans of his name and he stays sheathed in you, face buried in your neck like none other. you realise it’s his favourite position — to stay close to you, to feel your pulse, to hear the almost inaudible sounds.

“you’re perfect, fuck,” nanami says, breathless, body propped up with his elbows by your ears; and of course you’ve heard your lover swear — at gojo, at some stubborn curse, at the terrible dishwasher in your home in kuantan and at you, sometimes, but never said like this. nanami looks at you like you’ve the breeze of the beach and the sunset that dips below the horizon.

you had the privilege of seeing that everyday, yet nanami choses to look at you each time, even if you’re always fixated on the scene. today you get the chance to see the love he has stored for you within his irises, and before you can retaliate, you feel his lips on you. nanami moans into the kiss, the need to feel you again taking over him as he deepens it, kissing down your jaw and neck and chest until you remember the abandoned pancake batter you were mixing.

“kento, honey,” he hums into your chest, acting like a child dreading school. “we can’t leave the batter out in the open.”

nanami grunts, “just leave it. i’ll cook eggs and have some kaya on toast or something later.”

“but that’s exactly why we decided to cook pancakes!” you laugh softly, hands running through his blonde hair. it’s starting to whiten a bit, too, but you don’t mind. if anything, he makes getting old look good, “to have a change from our normal breakfast.”

nanami sighs, blinking tiredly at you as he lifts his head to look at you, and every time he fails to resist your expression. you’re not even doing anything, sitting there looking pretty and your husband simply can’t fathom the action of saying ‘no’. he doesn’t want to move from his place — because your profile against the endless stretch of the ocean is a vision he never thought would come true.

nanami gives in, like he always does.

“fine, you win.”

you cheer with a big grin that escalates into giggles as nanami sweeps you off the sheets, placing a kiss against your temple. he smiles at you, at the possibility of living here until he dies; and if that possibility is compromised, he’d fight to make it okay again. he would bring them to hell himself if he could.

nanami kento never liked killing curses, but for you, he would spill blood again just to keep you safe.

✶ TOJI

toji never gave up the chance to fuck you stupid, always propped up in some dingy motel while the money from his sorcerer missions are left on the bedside table. he has yet to splurge it, the need to gamble getting less and less the more and more he sees you. he grunts into your hair behind as your hands make a mess of the vanity table — both too needy today to use the bed — one hand under your leg and the other on your waist as he spills into you.

“that’s a good girl,” your pupils are blown wide at the unexpected orgasm as his cum spurts into you, hitting you like a truck that you’re begging for toji to slow down until he pulls out and his cum drips to the floor. but you notice he doesn’t scoop it up and tease you like always, he doesn’t tell his little insults while slipping on his pants, nor does he avoid aftercare like the lazy and non-chivalrous man he was — no, you notice the silent movements of toji. he was never this quiet, surprising you even more when he sits on the bed.

“what the hell are you starin’ at?” his eyes are locked on the floor, the distance from your to the bed a few mere steps yet it felt like crossing the globe.

you swallow. after all, he was still a large, bulking man, and while his gruff voice did wonders, it always made you a little terrified out of sex. “oh— uhm, nothing.” with another sigh from him, your curiosity gets the better of you, inching towards him with cautious steps. “toji-san?”

his hands are hesitant to reach out towards you, but they make haste to grip onto your waist and although they’re nothing like the rough ones earlier, you still get a flutter in your heart at how big his hands seem to be. they wrap around your waist before his head falls onto your stomach. too scared to ask, you just settle for playing with his hair, content with the warmness of the embrace.

“you’re making me confused.”

frowning, you raise his head from his safe place, “how so?”

you’re careful, because you know about toji’s past through rumours, you know about his hesitancy to show vulnerability. you’re holding his heart, and you’re hoping the words you mutter out don’t shatter and make him bleed again. toji grunts, yanking you down to sit beside him before staring into space as the night winds down. you can both hear the rooms quietening down and the world going to sleep.

“i don’t like this.”

and your heart breaks, because of how toji hates love and how every experience has never ended positively. we fuck and i leave, got it? if you tell me you like me or something, i’m breaking this off. so you lean forward to hold his cheek, offering a small smile. ironic that he’s told you that and yet he feels like he’s the one who broke his own rule.

“it’s okay if you don’t, i’ll be here no matter how you’re feeling; i won’t even say a word.”

toji curls his lip in disgust, but you know he doesn’t mean it when he grabs your hand, “that line was cheesy. i fuckin’ hate it.”

“it was good, i liked it.”

he only shakes his head with a sigh and lies down along with a gesture that says are you coming or what? before your smile is uncontainable and you’re moving to his side. even if you’ve only known what his body feels against you, you’re already hoping it’d happen again and toji reluctantly feels the same, wrapping an arm around your waist with lips to your hair. your heart soars when he doesn’t move away from your hand interlacing with his.

“not a word.”

you giggle at his tone, and the harshness of it. and if you read in between the lines, you’d see that there’s a bit of endearment in him, you just hoped you had the rest of your life to make him love love again.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Tag, You're It | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: Late summer mornings are beautiful and peaceful, but not when you car is a piece of shit. A simple jump will do but, was it smart to flag down the guy in the windowless van?

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark fic, Oral M!Receiving, Giving Head While Driving (Don't try this at home,) Wicked Banter, Reader is such a smart ass,

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Requests are officially open! Also this sounded wayyy better in my head - forgive me if this is shit.

Tagging: (If you want to be tagged feel free to let me know!) @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @rosaleelovesdilfs @prozacwhorehouse @rubyfruitjungle @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @lustskitty69

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Why did life need to be difficult? Why did it need to throw curveballs you way so outrageous, that it stops your daily routine? That is the one thing that drives you bonkers – having your entire day thrown off. What is the point of it? To make you slow down, take in the sights? To make sure you are never taking a moment for granted. To make sure you’re safe. Yeah, like that is a fucking thing. No, the harsh reality is that life wants to make your day to day so complicated it causes anxiety, dissociation, detachment. It causes you to feel out of line with every timeline, and in return you shut down. At least, that is how it’s feeling now.

It is just another day, but something feels off. It’s too alive outside. The winds are quiet but cool, but there is a thickness to the air. The tingling of sweat cooling on your forearms and face is making everything feel sticky. The whistle coming from God knows what, is driving you up a wall. Everything is too much. Sitting back against the living room couch, you take a deep breath. Today is supposed to be a good day, a great day! You’re supposed to be getting your assignment from your boss – whether you are going to be running the London office all by yourself, or if you are to stay in Pittsburgh. You wanted that escape, needed it in fact. Penn state was bleeding you dry, you needed a change of pace.

All morning you sat by your phone, waiting to see that nine digit life changer pass by your lock screen – signaling that you are worthy of this. Yet, radio silence. You did contemplate calling your boss to see but, would that be too desperate? Would you rethink her decision if it was already made? Does she remember seeing you around the corner when you called you a useless waste of talent? The words still coat your mind, never leaving until you prove it wrong. Today was the day to do that, today you were meant to be seen. With The Butcher’s antics starting up again, you needed to get out of Pennsylvania before you were next. Last October when Cooper Adams was captured, then escaped from police custody you grew cautious. Walking with pepper spray, a taser from Amazon, and a knife always. You adjusted your schedule enough, so you weren’t out past five at night, didn’t dare to leave your doors unlocked or windows open; Suffering in the heat was better than being a statistic. You wanted to live without fear, without the constant thought of what if it’s me next time? You wanted to be unafraid.

Breaking you out of your spiraling thought was the sound of your phone going off, the number you have been waiting for coming across your phone. Vivienne’s number flashed and you felt your heart race, not knowing what could be coming next? What if I just ignore it? Send it to voicemail? Will it show that I am serious or playing hard to get? Will it make her give me the London office sooner? Swallowing down the pride in your throat, you slid your thumb across the call bar – shaking as you heard your bosses angelic voice rain through. “My star investigator – is this a good time?” She sings, sounding a bit jittery on the other end. You nod as if she could see you, sighing out a laugh before speaking. “Sure is.”

“You didn’t get the London office,” she stated bluntly, not giving you a second to speak before maneuvering the conversation. “But, you are going to be staying with me in Pittsburgh! We are taking on the Ladellia case – that’s as exciting as London!” It didn’t hit you immediately but, it was a slow progression forward. First the ache sat within your heart, then your head, leaving your throat for last. You noticed how your TV went from clear to blurry almost instantly. An ache sat at the back of your throat, enough to cause your teeth to ache. You couldn’t control the sob that ripped from your mouth, the tears falling at a quickened pace. “Are you okay, honey?” Vivienne’s sympathetic voice comes through too clear for your liking, as if she was sitting next to you. “I got to go.” You let out without a thought, ending your call and turning your phone off. You stared at your reflection against your phone, noticing the puffiness gaining under your eyes – the glimmer of hope dying with each glance. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you needed to get out of here.

Hyperventilation set in at a rapid pace, causing your body to shake. The speed in which your heart was thumping concerned you, making your eyes waver and head pound. Your blood pressure was skyrocketing to the point where you felt as if you would pass out – everything you worked for, gone in an instant. Without thinking, you jetted off of the couch to the kitchen table, grabbing blindly for your bag and keys – needing an escape from this every-loving nightmare. Without turning around to set your alarm, or put away the dishes on the counter, you pushed yourself out of your home’s front door. The crisp air of late summer kissed your skin – no longer humid like it portrayed earlier. Your car was only a few steps away in your driveway, backed in which meant you could drive right out with no issue. The navy blue of your Mazda glimmered like the night in the late August sun, showcasing the twinkles of blue glitter in the paint. Usually it would bring you ease but, today something felt off. Maybe it was being passed over for the promotion but, it felt like something bigger.

Tossing your bag into the passenger’s seat as you slid into the driver’s side, you felt your hands go up to your steering wheel instinctually – gripping at ten and two. The second your driver’s side door slammed shut, you let out a blood curdling scream, fingers white knuckling the leather wheel. Everything within you shattered; The pain you were experiencing disintegrated with ease. Every octave your voice climbed brought a new wave of anger, rage, and sadness. Why does this always happen to me? Why am I always left out of everything? Every negative message you could possibly muster out was out in full force. You tried to suck in air, but nothing would go, only primal grunts and sobs slipped passed the crack of your lips, eyes full of rage. Though, you felt at peace in a way – knowing that what you needed was a good scream. Nothing mattered anymore, not for you anyway. Come Monday you would quit and disappear somewhere else. Somewhere where you didn’t need to worry about a stupid job or responsibilities, you’d be taken care of. Where that was you didn’t know but, you wouldn’t stop driving until you got there.

Wiping under your nose with the back of your hand, you sniffled softly as you pushed the start button on your car, the key fob sitting in the cup holder. The car rattled as it tried to click over to start, the starter catching on your alternator but never finishing the job. You tried again, and again, and again to get your car to click over – the silence rattled you to the bone. Again, you tried and with that, the car refused to turn over. “Piece of shit!” You screamed aloud, placing your forehead against your steering wheel. Staring at the mat of your floor, you let out a defeated sigh, giving up as your arm dangled. No matter how many times you would try to click your car over, it was toast. Sucking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment to realign your mood, not wanting to storm out of your car and back into the house. You still wanted to leave but, you would need a jump. You remembered having a set of jumper cables in your emergency trunk pack, now all you would need is the battery source.

Opening the driver’s side door, you caught a glimpse of a white van sitting across the street, the side door opened but seemed to have no one inside. It wasn’t dark enough outside to be pitch black but, enough that you could tell dusk was setting in. Trying not to stare and entice whatever was in the van to come towards you, you looked away as you stepped out, tailing around your car to the trunk. “That clicking doesn’t sound good. You need a jump?” A buttery soft voice called out from your side, from the direction of the van. Slowly you started to spin around and face where the voice was coming from, feeling your pulse quickening as you stared into the darkness. A pair of hands were held up under the streetlights that just came on, face obscured slightly by the brim of a baseball back. “I’m okay, thank you though.” You said matter-of-factly, smiling small as you waved off the stranger. You couldn’t help but find yourself enticed by the mysterious person in the van, their voice like liquid sex. It was husky yet, soft. Raspy yet calming. You wanted to swim in it.

Skirting around the back of your car, you noticed the hatch of your trunk was slightly ajar, leaving you to cock your eyebrow. Grabbing onto the underside of your trunk, you lifted the door up to see that your emergency case was there, in its bright pink glory, yet it looked deflated. Reaching forth you started to unzip the case, noticing your flashlight and tire iron were there perfectly content, but the pink and black cables were gone. What perplexed you the most was that you never used them before and knew when you bought it from Amazon it was in there – to up and walk away was not happening. Your eyes peered forward over the back row of seats, staring intently out your front window. The van was still there with the door opened, hands nowhere to be seen but a darkened figure could be made out. That’s not…no, there isn’t a way it is. He wouldn’t be that stupid to come back here. The lack of sleep was starting to get to you, imaging the worst instead of the best-case scenario. It didn’t mean that man in the van was The Butcher, but the chances were slim to none. Letting out a defeated sigh, you removed yourself from the trunks covering and made your way back to the front of your car. “I’ll take you up on that offer. My cables are not here.” You yelled out enough to be heard. The backdoor did not close but the taillights lit red in the slow darkness of the night. The beeping of the van backing up got closer to you as the driver become more obscured. With the van directly in front of your car, you wrapped you arms around yourself – looking around at your neighbors’ houses. With the free Lady Raven concert down at the stadium, you doubted anyone else was home. “Come grab the cables, I’ll pop the hood.”

Stupidly you made your way over to the van, not putting any caution to the wind with the killer on the loose. Maybe, just maybe you were hoping he took you. Maybe, it’ll help me be set free. Shaking your head of the perverse though, you investigated the dark of the van to still hear it running but, were not met with hands holding jumper cables. Instead, you were met with gloved hands, an obscured face, and thick energy radiating from the opening. Leaning forward to get a better look of this man and grab the cables – you couldn’t have anticipated what would happen next.

Everything happened so quick you didn’t have time to process. Strong hands reach forth to grab you by the front of your shirt, yanking so hard small tears were present on your top. You didn’t even struggle, making your body pliant as he grabbed you. One minute your feet were on the ground, standing in place. The next you were having your back slammed against the cold floor of the van, this man standing over you in the darkness. “Too. Fucking. Easy.” The dark, sadistic tone of the manmade your panties dampen; you never would admit it. Mint and coffee lingered on his breath as he hovered over you, grasping your wrists in his strong hands. “No fight in you? Now where’s the fun in that?” The man pouted as he slammed the door of the van, reaching his hand above himself to turn on the van light. The violent assault of the yellow bulb caused you to squint out of its way, letting your pupils adjust to it before staring ahead. Slowly everything came into view; An orange flyers baseball cap, black sweatshirt and one very handsome face. You thought your eyes were deceiving you for a minute, flashing who you hoped for in front of you – not who you were expecting. In a way you had to know which is why you didn’t put up a fight but – this was just too good. Cooper. Fucking. Adams. Straddling your waist as you laid against the floor, smirking over you the same way he did when he was carted out of his home last year after kidnapping Lady Raven and running rampant on Philadelphia. You were in deep shit.

Due to your ogling of Cooper, he had enough time to bind your wrists together with zip ties, then move himself into the driver’s seat of the van, skirting off of your property before anyone came back from the concert. You were stuck in your position, not even trying to move – not daring to move in case something was to happen. “You know, the whole fun part about this is the struggle. I feel robbed,” Cooper feigned hurt, pouting at you as he turned. Moving yourself up to a seat position, you grabbed with your bound hands against the passenger’s seat, steadying yourself as the van sped off at the green light. “But I’ll be damned if I was going to let you go. You were a hard one to catch, little mouse. Always scurrying away from danger.” He laughed, a twinkle in the ember eyes.

You were too in shock to process that you were kidnapped, by The Butcher, after you lost your job opportunity. It had to be a dream, there was no way in hell this was happening. “Oh, but it is, princess. Better believe it. You’re mine now.” The way he stated it as it was a fact made your thighs clench as you rested your cheek against the chair, watching the town ahead of you turn to bright, pixelated lights. Stating that you were his was not something you would get turned on by, it was fucked to be turned on by him. You didn’t care that you stated it out loud for him to hear, nothing mattered anymore. But he had that early 2000’s heartthrob vibe going on, it was impossible to not be persuaded by him. “So, are we…like enemies to lovers? Is that the trope we are going for?” The way you deal with fearful situations is to joke – this was one of those times.

It may not have seemed like it, but you were shitting bricks internally. Knowing what this man does, who he is and what he is capable of frightened you – as it excited you. It was fucked that you were awestruck by him, a killer. You hated a part of yourself that wanted to see what his hands were capable of. Ever since you saw the police body cam footage of him in his home, shirtless, being tased over three times and pouncing on an officer – you were flustered. “What?” He said with such confusion it made you snap back into reality, forgoing the thought of his body, shirtless, on top of yours. Feeling the heat creep its way along your cheeks, you stared at him – reality finally setting in. His confused look made you realize that this isn’t a simple fantasy you made up in your head, it’s reality.

Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you sat back on your haunches as he drove, his eyes fixated forward. That feeling of dread sat in your gut like a rock, making you almost physically sick. This wasn’t some story come to life; The Butcher had you – took you away from your home, from your life. His only intention was to see the life drain from your eyes – not be his plaything. Your fingers started to shake around the dull edge of the zip tie, your vision becoming blurry as your head pounded. “This isn’t like you, Cooper!” You screamed as a diversion, thinking if you went all Friday the 13th on him, he would resort to believing you were his mom, or a maternal figure. If it worked in the movies, why not now? What other play did you have? Leave the van? The handle from the inside was removed. Even the interior handle of the passenger’s side door was gone, only his remained and there was no way in hell you were going to make it past him to side out. “You were a good boy!” It was a silent plea, yet no tears or crying came. It was more fight or flight. Though you weren’t making a run for it, you weren’t trying to jet out of the van. Your body and mind were confused, as were you. Trailing up to the stop light, Cooper turns to stare at you, deadpanning with no emotion, a faded smirk on his lips. “That isn’t going to work on me, Lady Raven already tried that last year.”

The way he nonchalantly said that made your body burn hot, causing you to toss yourself into the passenger’s seat. For a serial killer he didn’t have a petition to block the front seat from you – rookie mistake. “Oh, for fucks sake!” You exhaled as you leaned back, huffing with annoyance. You were experiencing the stages of grief, and you had no output on how to handle it. Maybe he wouldn’t end you and chop you to bits like he did everyone else – those were only men, right? Maybe if you went along with him, used your attraction towards him – then maybe you could get off free? It was a dumb thought, pimping yourself out to live but – in a way you were also not complaining. He exuded charisma and daddy energy; you were drunk off of it. Cooper laughed a genuine laugh at your frustration, panning over to roll his eyes in a playful way. “This isn’t the position you want to be in? That is a shame. When I have it my way, I’ll have it be better for you.”

Cooper’s nonchalant attitude was killing you, wanting to do nothing more than just grab him by his face and kiss him. You hated that his perfect face was making you feel this way, it made no sense. “So, what position do you want me in? Face down, ass up?” There you went again with the banter, needing to fill the air with more smart mouthed remarks that were probably going to get you got before you were ready. Talking back wasn’t your strong suit – it isn’t something you did on the daily but, new days – right? If you weren’t going to make it back home, why not have some fun with it? Cooper seemed shocked by what you said, turning his head to face you with a cocked brow – utterly stunned you were so ballsy. To be honest, you felt the same way – you were never this gung ho to talk like this, let alone with your kidnapper. “Is this normal for you? Are you all mouth?” Funnily enough, it wasn’t. This was so out of the normal for you it was mental. You brain was being fried from all angles, you couldn’t tell what was right or left anymore. Something else was taking over, something dark that seemed to have been unlocked when Vivienne called you earlier – something wrong sitting beneath your skin. It was you – the real you, not the plastic naivete you put on for everyone else.

“I’m also tits and ass but, you like my mouth?” You giggle, batting your lashes up at Cooper. Fucking with him was becoming a national treasure for you, seeing both how flustered he got, mixed with annoyed. Something about the tick in his jaw was getting to you, making you squirm in your seat. There was a fifty-fifty chance he would end you now but, it felt like he wanted more. Maybe he didn’t kidnap me for his playbook, maybe he…no, there isn’t a way. Has he been stalking me? Is this…am I? So many questions flooded your head at the realization of what this truly could be. After all being separated from your wife and kids for a year, who want nothing to do with you, can make you a dull boy. Cooper placed a tightened hand against your thigh and squeezed, causing you to grimace a bit. “Stay. Quiet.” You did it, you cracked his armor.

You pulled you lip between your teeth with a silent chuckle, smirking to yourself that you got under his skin. You were right, sexual frustration is a fickle bitch – and you happened to be the best at that game. Pressing your thighs together where his fingers caressed the inner part, you rocked softly against his hand, hoping to whatever God was listening that he wouldn’t pull away. You wanted him to stay right where he is, and let you give him what he needed. Clearing your throat, you saluted him with your bound hands, trying to act serious. “Yes, sir. Or do you like daddy? I feel like you’re into that but won’t admit it.” His grasp got tighter on your leg before pulling it away, causing you to pout. Cooper slammed his hand against the steering wheel with frustration, twitching his nose and lips to try and keep from talking back to you. “Oh, my god. You didn’t seem mouthy when I watched you.”

That was a statement you were not expecting to hear, confused and slightly terrified. “You’ve been watching me?” You ask seriously, feeling your body run hot. That feeling that has been nagging at you for months, was real. Cooper Adams was watching you; That figure you caught outside the bathroom window as you showered, around the living room windows as you cleaned. Hell, outside of your bedroom window and you pleasured yourself – was him all along. Not some ghost or paranoia, it was real – he was real. Cooper froze in place for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to tell the truth or leave it as is. In lieu he chose the latter, opting for silence as he got into the rural part of the state. Pulling over on the side of the dirt farmland, he put the van in park quickly, spinning around to face you at your side.

Reaching between your legs, Cooper roughly maneuvered your calves to get at his bag on the floor, pulling out a piece of cloth, from an old shirt. Grabbing it in his hands, Cooper roughly bound the cloth into a ball, holding it steady as he reached through your hair and to your neck, grabbing at you with precision. “Open up, I’m not dealing with your back talk, or main character dialogue.” The jab made you climb back into yourself, shrinking silently as you wondered if you annoyed him. But it didn’t seem like a jab, no, it seemed more of a control factor. Cooper didn’t – couldn’t handle your smart ass remarks because why? His victims never had the guts too – all they did was beg and plea, and he hated hearing that sometimes. He wanted them to grovel, not whine. “Gagging me, seriously?” You tried your hardest to not sound offended but, alas it came through. You noticed the tick in his under eye, like he was reading you, wondering what your next thought was going to be. He didn’t seem like he wanted to but needed to. It was about keeping him sane; you were making it difficult.

“That mouth will keep running if I don’t. I want peace on this trip, not an ear full from you.” It was a lie, he didn’t want a reason to stuff your mouth full of his cock. You could see it as you glanced down to his lap, the stiffened erection appearing painful in his denim constraints. You cocked your brow with a smirk, biting your bottom lip as you kept yourself in line. Cooper couldn’t tell what you were going to say next but, he knew there would be no coming back from it. Licking your plush lip, you smiled sweetly up to him – holding your wrists out in a silent as of remove these, please? Cooper didn’t blink, didn’t move, only his hands. For they undid the strap of your zip tie with expert precision, making sure to not hurt you. Now free, you could let the fun begin. “I can think of other things to keep my mouth full.” You let out in a sultry whimper, getting closer to Cooper before he could reach.

His ember eyes looked down at your soft, supple lips, licking his own as he raked his nails against the skin of your neck, cupping the side like a lover lost in time. “Drive.” You coaxed out in a raspy tone, wanting to make this memorable for him. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nodded to Cooper as a way to make him obey. To which he did; His hand retreated from your neck and put the car in drive, moving down the road to the destination without a single word talked back. You leaned over to Cooper and trailed your hot mouth along his clothed arm, hands sitting sweetly on his lower thigh, slowly moving upwards. Each graze of your fingers threw him a curveball, a moan escaping his lips.

You watched intensively Cooper’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, your hand grazing his clothed member through the rough denim. Circling over the hardened flesh you watch how the muscles in his thighs contract sporadically. each little flick of the muscles falling softly against one another; It looked like they were having a party - in which you wanted to join. The faint whimper leaving your mouth to fall into Coop’s ear caused his hands to tighten - white knuckling the steering wheel harder than more. His foot lay flat against the floorboard, yet his foot on the gas was starting to speed up. Nipping lightly at his neck you smirk against his skin, purring softly into his ear; "Sshh, relax...I'll take good care of you."

Moving your hand from his thigh to the ever-growing bulge in his jeans, you bit down a bit harder onto his neck, watching how he eyes falter for a split second. There was a gentle tsk seeping from your mouth, enough to divert his attention back to the road . There was a ball of fear bubbling in your chest, threatening to scream out - but this new, darkened side of you made sure to silence it, licking at the straight jawline of Cooper.

Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clink echoing through the van as you remove his length; cheeks flash hot at the sight of him. He was big, too big for your mouth. Instantly a pool of saliva started to fall into your lower jaw, taking him all in with the minimal light you happened to have. Yet you could see every vein twitch and pull, beckoning you closer - wanting the sopping wet feel of your mouth over the tender, tanned flesh. The swollen, strained head of his cock made your core throb, wondering what it would feel like in your cunt. Maybe if your head game was strong, he could return the favor later on. Groaning at the mental image you created, you knew the real fun was about to begin. Cooper was not a patient man when it came to his large, hardened cock being out. The cold air nipped at the tender flesh - wanting to be enveloped by your mouth.

Leaning forward you press your mouth around his tip, licking softly over the slicked slit of his head, moaning against the reddened skin. The salty taste of his pre-cum caused your eyes to dilate to almost black - seeing nothing but pure passion. Bringing your right-hand up to gently cup his balls - you let your talented tongue slide over just the head, suckling on him gently. What you would give to see the look on Cooper’s face; His slack jaw hanging open, the slants of his eyes showing his lust perfectly. Holy shit, the thought of his hand slamming your head fully down onto his thick length, swallowing around him. The dirty thought caused you to moan against his tip, earning a softened hiss from Cooper’s mouth. You could feel him tossing his head back as you started to bob, eliciting a moan against his cock; "Eyes on the road, be good for me."

Nodding cheekily at your statement Cooper’s eyes focus on the road, while yours focus on his ever-growing cock. With each swipe of your tongue, he seemed to get longer, thicker just in your grasp. You needed to take him now. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you slowly started to lower your mouth down, hollowing out your cheeks around him. Each time you sunk down it caused Cooper to grip harder at the wheel, the leather cracking under his touch. It was enough incentive for you to try and take him fully - which you thought you could easily do. As the tip of his thick length brushed against your uvula, you instantly retracted - feeling how the tightening of your throat began - how the gagging commenced. Coop loved it, seeing you wipe yourself out just for his pleasure, it caused him to twitch right against your lip. The salty tang of his head and the mixture of your sweetened spit caused your pussy to throb, fuck you needed him.

Leaning your mouth back down halfway, you created a steady rhythm. Your mouth bobbed with two seconds each pass, your hand working the opposite. With the binaural beats you were creating on Cooper’s cock, his chest heaved erratically. He would not admit this to you, but it had been quite a while since he last got taken care of. Looking down for a split second, Cooper saw how patiently you worked with his length, giving it tender treatment. He loved how your plush lips wrapped around him effortlessly, basking in his musk and taste - giving him the best treatment he could ask for. Though his eyes threatened to watch you, not the road, he did not want to make his girl mad. He wanted to give you the world, to return the deed softly - once you got to his hideout, he was yours for the taking.

The mere thought of it caused his stomach to clench, you could feel it right against your cheek. He was going to cum so soon, and flat-out bricks in your mouth. The thought caused your eyes to widen, your tongue salivating quickly. Working the extra spit your mouth had produced over his member, you felt it start to drip down his length, pooling in the soft tuft of brown hair against the base. It was enough incentive for you to speed up your mouth, your grip getting a bit tighter around the base of his length. Your body worked in tandem with his, with every stroke of your lips and hand, your thighs tightened whilst his vibrated with the sensation. In a 45 zone he was going almost 90, causing the worry to bubble within your chest. Slamming your eyes shut you tried to relax your mouth, slipping down further onto him - feeling how he presses deliciously against the back of your throat. All it took was one little swallow, one little tense up of your throat for Cooper to string out curses.

"B-Baby, fuck...fuck princess!" Cooper yelled, spreading his cum across your tongue. You did not lay off your movements, still going at the same pace while he painted your mouth with his cum. The taste was something you have never taken in before, a sweet tang mixed with salt. It was more than his pre-cum slick could give you, yet no matter how much you moved, the man was never done. Cooper laced his fingers through your hair, balling it into a fist as he moved you languidly up and down. Teasing his balls was something you didn't think would cause him to cum more - but Jesus you were so happy about it. Each gentle roll caused his sack to pull up into himself - spreading more of his delicious seed over your tongue. You could feel his foot release from the gas easily, dropping down to the actual speed limit. Breathless moans cascaded from the opened area above, to the closed quarters below.

With a swift move, Cooper pulled you off of his cock by your hair - not giving you enough time to swallow his seed down. As the van started to slow down even further, you looked Cooper deep within his dark, gorgeous eyes - a sinister smirk playing across your glistening lips. Parting your mouth slightly you have him a first-row seat to the show, peaking your pink tongue through the milky substance. Cooper’s mouth fell completely open in shock, watching how you swallowed it down like it was nothing, moaning at the taste of him sliding down your throat. Small dribbles of his spent ran across your bottom lip, only to be followed up by your thumb, suckling off the excess. Leaning forth you placed a small kiss to Cooper’s cheek as the van stopped at the light. “Was that good, Mr. Butcher, sir?” You teased with a giggle, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Cooper was dumbfounded, unable to process what had happened and your wording while he was coming down from his high. His now flaccid cock sat against the opening to his jeans, a sheen of sweat crossed his brow bone as his swept back hair was now disheveled. Swallowing down a moan, Cooper ran his long fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. Turning his head against the head rest, he smirked with glee – chuckling as he breathed out. “Oh, I am going to have fun with you.”

[thatrandomidiot182]

Pt. 2! This might be a bit vague and confusing so I might come back and edit it, but my internet is being super spotty and slow but I hate cliffhangers!!

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Continuing on with Velaryon! Reader who...

Has spent her whole life preparing for a succession everyone told her she'd have, (Queen/Lady).

Everyone told her that Driftmark was her birthright, that she'd be one to ascend the Driftwood throne and rule. That, unless she willingly gave up the title, it was assured hers.

They said if she did choose otherwise, an even greater title would surely be hers. After all, no other girl has proven themselves quite as capable, or deserving, of being the future queen as she.

It was guaranteed she'd be titled sooner or later.

It was fate, that she'd be a gracious, caring, benevolent ruler at some point.

It was supposed to be her.

Yet, in one thirty-minute meeting, all of that was taken away from her.

Her birthright, her inheritance, her future, her throne, gone.

All instead given to a bastard.

A bastard, who has no knowledge of ships, or the sea, or anything about politics.

A boy, of fire and blood.

Whereas she, pure salt and sea, has been groomed for it her entire life.

Readers so furious. Like, body numbing, ear ringing, jaw clenching, blood drawing furious.

For once, she agrees with Vaemond.

The king had no right to declare the heir of Driftmark.

Alas, she's far more in control of her emotions than her uncle.

Aemond is just as angry as her. Lucerys took his eye, and now takes his wifes birthright away from her! That just won't do...

Aemond is the only one who knows how much Reader has sacrificed and gave to make herself worthy. How much she's suffered and endured just to gain her parents' approval. All the dreams she's pushed aside, opportunities she's lost, blood she's shed. He's been right next to her all throughout her journey, so of course, he's the only one who ever truly understands her. (Man is rlly delulu but it's kinda.... 😍)

He also sees this as an opportunity. Now that she's lost everything, she's more likely to go along with his plans, seeing as she does not have many other options.

Jace is flabbergasted. Appalled, disgusted, and terrified. Does this mean he can't marry Reader? Why couldn't Rhaenys just announce their engagement instead? It would've made sense. Everyone knows she was going to marry him eventually, so where did Baela come from? Was his mother keeping something from him? Was this Daemons doing!?

Yeah, he's taken so off guard, but he's also wary of Readers' next actions. He knows of her ambition, and he knows how far she's willing to go for it (no he doesn't) and he knows she already dislikes Luke bc of Aemond. He's really conflicted.

Rhaenys has had enough of Readers' indecisiveness and decides to make the choice for her. In her mind, the worst case scenario, is that Reader was going to choose Jace, and they end up marrying the boy to two women.

Best case scenario is that Viserys accepts Rhaena and Baela as 'the great unification' instead and allows Reader to marry anyone she wants. Anyone besides Aemond.

(Bad parenting on her part)

Reader is pissed, sad, and panicking, so what does she do?

She goes to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra, who has always pursued her heart over anything else.

Rhaenyra, who has consistently pushed aside duty and perception for love.

Rhaenyra, who is her last shot at securing the iron throne.

Reader approaches Rhaenyra in private and breaks down. She begs Rhaenyra to wed her to Jace alongside Baela.

She loves Jace! She's always loved him, but never had the opportunity to inform anyone of her feelings (which is true tbf). She's fine being a second wife as long as she gets to spend the rest of her life with him.

She really sells it. Kneeling, tears, snot, the whole nine yards.

Rhaenyra believes it. She has seen how much her son cares for Reader and mourns the future that could have been. However, she's hesitant to go against Rhaenys. She trusted the older woman to help her and her sons, and she did. So she must have had a good reason not to announce Reader and Jace rather than Baela and Jace.

"I am afraid it is not my decision to make."

"You will be queen one day, if you speak it, my parents will have no choice but to heed your wishes."

Rhaenyra is torn, but in the end, she prioritizes her children above anything.

"I will ask your mother to reconsider once the dust has settled, whatever choice she makes will be final."

"If you do not command it, she will never reconsider! The longer we wait, the more people will know and if that happens, it'll never be accepted!"

"I am truly sorry."

Oooooh now Rhaenyra is on Readers shit list.

So, Reader feels backed into a corner. She's hurt, angry, embarrassed, and ashamed. She feels as if she's lost everything, all within the span of a few hours.

Then, Aemond visits her. He comes to her with open arms and sweet words. He kneels before her and proclaims his love and devotion and his desire to make her Queen.

Reader is so angry at Rhaenyra and her parents that she allows herself to believe his honeyed words and sweet smile. She loves him as much as she loves Jace, so it's not a total loss. Besides, Aemond has proven himself willing to do anything for her.

She announces their engagement that night at the dinner table.

Viserys is stoked. Three engagements in a day!!

Otto and Alicent are also happy. Otto just thinks this has been a long time coming, and Alicent is relieved to finally have Aemond off of her plate. (These two have no idea what's coming 💀)

Rhaenyra is flabbergasted. Literally, like an hour before, Reader was begging to marry her son, and now this???

Jace is utterly heartbroken. He understands that realistically, it was inevitable, considering he was now betrothed to another, but the pain was the same nonetheless.

Rhaenys is pissed. She did all this to avoid Reader marrying Aemond, and she turns around and does it anyway!?! She can't speak up though because it makes her appear weak and not in control, and she'd never willingly show that to anyone, much less with Daemon present.

Luke is terrified, his two worst enemies are now engaged!?

Helaena is so excited to have Reader as a sister in law!! Her dreams have shown her great things about this marriage. She makes sure to include Reader in her toast as well lol.

Aegon finds it hilarious. The two dragonless Targaryen's getting married, ha! (He'll regret laughing later lol)

Daemon is unnerved. He's probably the only one who sees the marriage as what it actually is. A power move. One unseen by anyone but him. Though he'd never admit it, he was sure he could handle Aemond or Reader alone, but together? Together, they might just be unstoppable...

That night was the last time Reader danced with Jace before the war.

Aemonds toast was unexpected, but Reader felt it was justified and even broke Baelas nose when her niece got up to help Luke and Jace.

Jace was astonished.

Aemond had a sexual awakening lmaoo.

The night King Viserys dies, a shadow flies above kings landing, quickly followed by a terrible storm.

The next day, during the search for Aegon, Reader approaches Otto, and offers a backup plan.

She knows that all he truly wants is a puppet, that he has no care about 'rightful' heirs, which is why they chose to be so insistent on Aegon being crowned.

She also knows how much Aegon despises the thought of ruling.

They both know that Aemond would do anything for the crown.

But only she knows that he'd do anything for her.

So she proposes a deal. Should Aegon falter, it would be best to replace him with Aemond.

A war is inevitable, and they both know that, despite his temper, Aemond would be far more likely to win against Rhaenyra and Daemon than Aegon has any hope of.

Aemond is also as loyal as a hound to his beloved, and if Otto agrees to crown him, Reader would ensure that Aemond heeds his grandfathers every wish for as long as he lives...

Otto hesitates. He has come to see the kind of woman Reader is and has no reason to believe that she would lie. He agrees with everything she says, as it is all the truth. He also sees her as another pawn he could utilize as he believes she respects him and listens to him well. (🤡)

He accepts her proposal but insists that Aegon be King for as long as rationally possible. After all, it was Viserys' dying wish to crown him so it wouldn't look great to immediately replace him. He also reminds Reader of Alicents loyalty to Viserys and his wishes.

Reader isn't very happy with the deal, but accepts it nonetheless. She's waited this long right?

In the meantime, she swears loyalty to the greens.

Aemond is surprised to hear of this deal, but is elated at how much easier this would make their succession. He's so impressed and in awe of Reader!!

Rhaenys and Erryk attempt to take Reader with them to Dragonstone, but she vehemently refuses.

"You have humiliated me countless times. Ruined my childhood and painted false images of honor and glory in my head only to whisk it all away without a second thought!! Now, you ridicule me for choosing the only person who has ever truly loved me? Scorn and curse me for not bowing down to the mutts who took MY birthright from me!?! You speak of honor and oaths... You are nothing more than a hypocrite."

Rhaenys is gutted. She finally sees how big she fucked up. Still, it's not like she can do much so she leaves without her, swearing to come back for her once she 'sees the truth.'

Thus, Aegon is crowned king, and the Reader chases Rhaenys out of kings landing on the back of a huge black dragon.

Ideally, and in my head, its Balerion. The parallels of Vhaegar and Balerion being the previous dragons of Visenya and The Conquerer and now Aemond and Reader are too compelling!! If you prefer to be a bit more canon compliant, I also can see her claiming a son of Vhaegar and Balerion, hatched during the conquest and hidden away. Maybe Vhaegar leads him to Reader cuz she feels a war is coming.

The smallfolk see it as a sign. Since they love Reader so much, they view her obtaining a dragon in such a time as a promise that she is destined for greatness. In the light of the battle for succession, word flits about the people of kings landing that perhaps it is time for a change. Perhaps Reader and her Husband should sit the Iron Throne. After all, they ride dragons from the days of the conqueror, and have shown much more care and compassion for the true good of the realm than either Aegon or Rhaenyra.

Corlys and Rhaenys mourn the relationship they ruined with their only daughter. Corlys' only requirement to swear to Rhaenyra is that his daughter be spared, no matter what happens. Rhaenys and Jace back him up. Rhaenyra agrees. (They're all delulu and believe Aemond has bewitched her or manipulated her in some way)

Reader uses the time between Aegons coronation and Lucerys' death to bond and train with her dragon. While Aemond was sent to deal with Lord Borros, offering gold and slaves, Reader flew to Driftmark and rallied a good portion of sailors and soldiers. She has a good reputation amongst the people of her home, and many of them refused to live under and serve Lucerys when she was their one true ruler.

When Aemond returns to kings landing with the news of Luke's death, Reader is disappointed and vexed.

She wasn't mad that he killed Lucerys, but because he did so at the worst time. Otto was bound to see this major fuckup and completely reconsider their deal.

Aemond is so upset bc he disappointed her.

Jace is now resolved to 'save' Reader from Aemond, if he killed Luke what's stopping him from killing her??

Reader now has to work to save Aemonds reputation. Not only is he 'deformed' but now he's a kinslayer! Any claim he has to the throne is dwindling the more he acts.

She also has to figure out how to deal with Alicent.

And find a way to get Helaena and her children out of the keep before all hell breaks loose.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Okay, officially, the end of season 1! Season 2 might take me a bit longer to write because there's a lot more to figure out. Also, I like how this was originally supposed to be a vague outline and just fleshed into a whole rant, lol. I'm kind of forcing myself to finish this format bc I really want to write more in depth one-shots showing some scenes but I can't until I finish posting these.

Idk what to call these. It's not a full fic, it's not really headcanons either...

[utilitycaster]

okay watched Cloak and Dagger and here are my thoughts in brief

I don't think showing Ripley's backstory is bad. Part of why Ripley is an interesting character to me in a way that, to use my favorite punching bag, Otohan, is not, is because we had hints of what made her this way - fleeing the Empire; a list of names on Animus that included Bertrand Dwendal. Part of why I mock Otohan relentlessly is because she is a one-dimension villain, and Ripley never was that, which is why she's an interesting villain. Tragic backstory, in my opinion, enhances one's villainy, rather than reduces it: what sort of monster suffers and decides to do the same to others, rather than is driven to work to improve the lot of others? That's essentially why Caleb is in the end a heroic character and Ludinus is the culminating BBEG more so than Predathos.

Glintshore is one of my favorite battles of Campaign 1 and it also would not, in my opinion, translate well to animation. There was a great line in the Midst Messages from Xen in reference to Moonward about how in most rules-heavy TTRPGs, when you enter a big battle, time stretches out significantly, but in a systemless game like Moonward, it goes very quickly, which gives it a very different vibe and makes players make very different decisions. The emotional weight derives largely from how the party enters combat already heavily drained and never regains their footing, and how the cast is well aware and the sense of dread (and belief that Percy might be permanently dead and Taliesin will have to roll up a new character) sets in long before the battle ends. [long tangent about good parasocial vs bad parasocial in actual play put off until I have time to actually read Watch Us Roll, but this is Good Parasocial]. It's actually an interesting test of the challenge we face for the finale of the series: you are not going to get as efficient an emotional punch as Sam saying "Nine" in a show that doesn't have a concept of spell levels. I had struggled with how one might recreate the Glintshore battle and the answer is "you don't".

Ripley's speech was great no notes, love her being fucking awful and consumed with vengeance to the end. I think just as the theme of "your resentment will destroy you" is an enduring one throughout Critical Role, so is "every mortal is in theory someone who could change and become better, but if you shoot the hand that's trying to help you, well, get rekt lol"

The music over Percy's death is corny as hell. However, I am already on the record as someone who mutes It's Thursday Night for being corny as hell and who pokes fun at Matt's more purple prose and I seem to have stuck around regardless. I have made my peace with the fact that a good chunk of the cast spent their formative years just absolutely immersed in anime, and given the Extreme Anime Vibes of Percy in TLOVM I can't say I love it, but I also can't say it's not sort of fitting. Please do cut that scene with different music though, because it would be funny as shit.

I need to watch episodes 8 and 9 (going to now!) but much as I love the glintshore fight, you know what I love more? Episode 1x69 (nice). Real Tragedy Enjoyers know the proof is in the aftermath. If 8 and 9 also suck then I'll be back here in like an hour but if they're good then it's whatever.

Grog is always on some level experiencing a Sitcom B Plot and if you ever find yourself disliking a TLOVM episode, remember you're watching a sitcom where Grog is dealing with a Bird that is Very Here (metaphorical).

[ausetkmt]

Three young Black girls were strangled and left in a pond last summer in east Texas, and no arrests have been made in a case that advocates and experts believe has been severely mishandled by local authorities.

Nine-year old Zi’Ariel Robinson-Oliver, 8-year-old A’Miyah Hughes, and 5-year-old Te’Mari Robinson-Oliver, known as the Oliver 3, were reported missing on July 28, 2022, in Atlanta, Texas. The girls’ cousin, Paris Propps, who was watching the three sisters and their siblings while their mother was at work, reported the girls missing around 9 p.m. Hours later, on July 29, all three bodies were found in a nearby pond.

Initially, authorities said it was a drowning. But in March, nearly eight months after the girls were last seen alive, the Cass County District Attorney’s Office said in a statement that a homicide investigation is underway.

“Autopsy reports concluded the manner of death for all three girls was homicide, indicating evidence of strangulation. The girls also suffered lacerations to their faces,” the press release obtained by Yahoo News from the Cass County District Attorney’s Office said.

Now advocates are stepping in to demand answers. On April 3, Minister Quanell X, the leader of the New Black Panther Nation, traveled four hours from Houston to hold a press conference in Cass County and demanded that the FBI and Department of Justice step in to investigate. The FBI has not responded to a request for comment from Yahoo News.

Quanell X stood beside the mother of the Oliver sisters during the press conference. “She was told that they drowned, but she always had a suspicious feeling that the girls did not drown. Well, her suspicions were confirmed by the autopsies,” Quanell told Yahoo News.

The Cass County District Attorney’s Office is currently working with the Texas Rangers and the sheriff’s office to investigate the murders. “Multiple witness statements have been obtained, DNA testing is ongoing, and the investigation will continue,” according to a statement obtained by Yahoo News from the district attorney’s office. Yahoo News contacted the office for additional information but a spokesperson declined to provide more details.

According to U.S. Census data from 2022, Cass County has a population of 28,539 people, and advocates say the town does not have enough resources to investigate three homicides.

“They were presumed drowned because of a sham investigation, a lazy investigation by investigators who obviously didn't have the resources, the training that was necessary to properly address an investigative crime scene,” Quanell said.

Investigators are still searching for suspects, but experts say the months-long time lapse could have been avoided.

“The usual time frame [for autopsies] depends, I would say within two weeks,” David Thomas, professor of forensic studies at Florida Gulf Coast University, told Yahoo News.

But for small towns, “they send those autopsies off to a whole different county, hours away from that county to do the autopsy,” Quanell said.

However, the autopsy reports are just one piece of the puzzle. Thomas says more could have been done at the time investigators found the girls in the pond.

“They sat and they made an assumption that they had drowned, which would be unusual for three people to drown at the same place, at roughly the same time — [it] doesn’t make any sense,” Thomas told Yahoo News. “If it was Gabby Petito, the world would have come to a stop.”

Revolt Black News weekly recently reported that authorities were aware that a crime had occurred soon after the incident, but just recently released the information to the public last month. “However, they didn’t say why they delayed sharing the info,” the article stated.

“At the end of the day, any seasoned investigators when they retrieved the bodies from the [pond] would have been able to see that this was more than some accidental drowning by the bruising on the faces and the necks of the girls,” Quanell said.

Quanell believes the investigation is not a priority because the young girls are all Black. “I think Cass County is doing what Cass County historically does when it comes to investigating injustice and murder involving Black people as victims. They’re not taking this case seriously in my eyes, because it’s not three young white children,” he said.

“National statistics tell us that over 60,000 Black women are missing, and Black women are twice as likely than they appear to be victims of homicide,” Brittany Lewis, co-founder of Research in Action, told Yahoo News in March.

Now experts say the investigation will be much harder because of the lengthy time lapse. “That eight month time gap is devastating,” David Carter, professor of criminal justice at Michigan State University and a former Kansas City, Mo., police officer, told Yahoo News.

“The longer time between when the bodies are found and the investigation begins, the harder it is. It’s harder to find suspects, certainly harder to find witnesses, and harder to find evidence,” Carter said.

Carter says that as a former member of the law enforcement, there’s no excuse for the delay in the investigation. “I’m really at a loss of why a criminal investigation wasn’t started immediately,” Carter said.

As authorities continue to investigate, advocates emphasize that whoever committed these crimes is still at large.

“They could be anywhere,” Thomas said. “But I would say the likelihood that they knew that pond was there would probably give you an indication that it might be somebody local or somebody that's very familiar with the area.”

“This sounds like a very, very targeted personal crime,” Carter added.

There have been no arrests in the nearly year-old case, but more people are pushing for justice. Recently, civil rights attorney Ben Crump and celebrities like Viola Davis and Niecy Nash shared a montage video on social media of the Oliver 3. The video was created by Black Girl Gone, a true crime podcast that sheds light on Black girls and women who are missing.

“A child killer. A serial killer is on the loose. One who was not afraid to murder three children. And if you kill three you will kill more. Especially when you believe you will get away with it like this perpetrator has,” Quanell said.

On April 26, Quanell and the New Black Panther Nation plan to host a town hall in Cass County, as they continue to seek justice for the Oliver sisters.

[silverzoomies]

Cunning Linguist

pietro maximoff x reader smut

warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence

word count: 3,990

a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol

he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!

Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.

Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam. 

Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?

He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.  

Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.

More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.

Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?

Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.

Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.

Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time.  If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.

He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?

The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?

The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it. 

But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?

Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.

Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well. Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.

Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.

Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.

Anyway, about you…

Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.

For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.

Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.

Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something. Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?

Pietro Speed Maximoff.

Eh, maybe not.

In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.

Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.

You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.

Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.

Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.

The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips. 

His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.

A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?

Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.

Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue. 

But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.

Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.

You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.

“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.

No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.

A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”

You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below. 

Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.

Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.

Or…Agnes’s place.

Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.

You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want. 

Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.

And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.

Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.

Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.

But first…he really should satiate your hunger.

One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red. 

Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness. 

The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.

Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.

Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.

Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.

You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.

Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.

Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.

Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization. 

Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.

Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.

He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.

A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.

The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.

Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.

He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.

Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.

After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.

You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.

With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.

Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.

Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”

Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.

“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”

[night-dazai]

Back Home

Summary: 2 weeks and the greatest sorcerer has not seen his pretty little lover, but while he was supposed to come home she leaves for a beach trip ....or....did she.

Long missions were something Gojo had always hated. He could not see his loved ones, and boring curses to fight and- “Ugh? Really? This is a grade A …the old farts,” he grumbled while killing the cruse and sipping his drink, “And this is sour,” he thought and looked 100% dissatisfied. That's when his phone rang, and blindfolded, dead eyes sparkled with joy reading your name.

“Hello love~ “ he chirped, tossing his drink into the nearest bin, and dusting his sleeves. “Huh… what? You are… going out?” He sounded horrified. The only thing he wanted after a long mission was you, the bed, and sex and if you go out now? You wouldn't be back for three days, how could he survive? “Hmm…fine. Get ready, all nice and pretty for me. How about you wear the black dress we bought a week ago? Yeah…you like that …of course, that's why I bought it. Now get ready.” He smirks, and cuts the call before you could respond.

It has been around thirty minutes, your bag for 2 nights and 3 days was ready and so were you. Your tight, black dress had a heart neck outlining your chest perfectly. You looked once more in the mirror and checked your dress. It was a girl’s trip plan, you, Shoko and Utahime were going to the beach. You didn’t really want to go, cause the next day gojo will come home after his 2 week long mission, and you wanted to greet him, but the girls insisted and you gave in.

As you were checking your bag, the front door opened “Shoko bedroom !” You shouted, not turning or even checking as to who came in, but suddenly two strong arms around your waist made you jump “AHH!” you shouted but your face was turned by rough hands, and the rest of your screams were swallowed by a hot kiss.

Fear and worry eased when you saw no eyes, but a dark blue blindfold and white hair sticking to the forehead. “GOJO!” You exclaimed, pushing his face and creating some space between the two of you. You could hear him whine due to the loss of touch. “Don't go…please….2 weeks … I suffered, I need you …” He begged, whiny. Soft lips on your neck left a few kisses as his hands roamed your body, legs trying to push you onto the bed. “No…I told them I would go. It has been so long since the 3 of us went out,” you said, trying to get him off you but it was of no use.

His lips found yours again while both of your hands got pinned above your head, his free hand removed his blindfold. “It is not long, but it will do,” he said. In an instant, the material was ripped and was tied perfectly like a bow on your wrists. “There, all better...my cute present is all ready for me.” He smiled like a kid who just got his birthday present.

Soft-looking rough hands roamed your hands massaging your breasts for a solid nine seconds, before ripping the martial into shreds. “GOJO NO!!” Your shouts fell on deaf ears “Please y/n …please.” He begged, pouting on your breasts while hands were on your inner thighs near your core but not touching you...yet.

You loved the dress, gojo picked it for you and it was really pretty but it's gone, you know he would buy you another one, why even the same one but…

“Fine. At least untie me,” you said, giving up. It had been 2 weeks and it was a lie if you said you also did not miss him and your fingers were not as good as his. “Ah… slow..slow down,” you said, while his long fingers abused your cunt, pace fast and harsh. “Come on, I am not in any mood for slow stuff,” he said. His voice was different and the glint in his eyes was definitely scary, but something made you more wet. “Oh..why is my sweet fucktoy clenching so hard?” He asked . One hand thrust in and out while the other abused your clit roughly and soon he pressed on that spot, making you see stars and having your first proper orgasm in two weeks.

With half-closed eyes and quivering legs, you tried to capture your breath. “Now now, don't pass out here,” he said, tapping his dick on your puffy clit. “Time to go in,” he said and before you could talk he was in. One thrust knocked all the air out of your lungs and your eyes rolled back. “Go-gojo….” you mumbled, trying anything to get him to slow down but now-

SLAP!

Had you screaming and freezing. “Behave,” he said. This was not the whiny cute gojo but the one who needs what he wants. As you tried to talk again.

SLAP ! SLAP !SLAP!

Your thighs which were red now had his sky-blue eyes going dark. “You look so lovely with my marks, '' he said, kissing the red handprints, and not stopping. From the start ,the pace was rough. His balls were slapping your ass, and while one hand pulled and twisted your nipple the other played with your clit from time to time.

“Look here …” hands pulled your chin to look at him.

Tears streamed down your face, the pleasure was overwhelming after the long break and nothing could leave your mouth other than porn-worthy moans, which just made him go harder. “I said look here “ he pressed your cheeks roughly when you did not open your eyes. Slowly, you opened your wet eyes, mascara running down, red lipstick smeared all over your mouth “Pretty..my pretty “ he mumbled before entering your mouth.

The kiss was hot, wet, and messy. His pace got a bit faster when you yelled into the kiss, sculpted hips thrusting into you at a faster pace, and the dick inside you was twitching for sure and suddenly he made sure to hit that one spot again and again, making you see stars… or heaven. You have no idea which it was.

Low grunts made you open your eyes to see your pretty boyfriend, sweat dripping down his face and model body, with white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed, and chasing his high while hands holding your hips to ensure you don't run or move away in force. Hips rutting into your bruising, soon you could feel your second knot in the stomach and soon after you came he followed.

“Three seconds…break ???” you thought and opened your eyes to see him looking at your cunt, you could not move but you were sure he was watching his cum drip out of your hole “Go..gojo ?” You called out in a feeble voice. A childish smile formed on his face as he peeled his eyes from below and looked into your eyes, he adjusted his hips a little, hitting your spot again. “Ah..noo.. stop “ you whined while he leaned to kiss your forehead. “No? Love, we haven't even started for the night.” He said, still smiling and removed the knot on your hands.

You clasped your hands on his neck. “Please… I am dead tired,” you said, while he rose and sat you down on his lap, his dick going a little deeper. You hissed.

“But I am not,” he said, kissing your neck and leaving a hickey. With you on his lap he turned and leaned on the headboard, “Now just shut up and take it like a good girl,” he said through gritted teeth, thrusting you on his dick, biting your neck and leaving angry, red marks, while your manicured hands left marks on his pale, gold shoulders.

It was a very long ……… night and Utahime was sure to shout at Gojo the next day for spoiling your plans.

This is the results of the poll.

[bamber344]

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

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heyo! this chapter is a fucking MONSTER. biggest one yet. but that's what i get for trying to condense a character's entire backstory into one chapter lol. I'm sure you can guess who's backstory it is ;P

Enjoy!

CWs: living weapon whump, minor whump, whipping, electrocution, stress positions, non-con body modification, lab whump, starvation, controlling whumper, vomit, various other bodily fluids

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

Maggie sighed, sinking further against the cushions as Diego’s hand massaged preen oil through the feathers on her back and wings, straightening them out and cleaning any debris out of them. After having to suffer through trying to do it herself with her limited human flexibility for the first nine months of her life, having someone else to help her with preening was something she would truly never take for granted. It wasn’t just her wings she had to worry about; the feathers trailed all the way down her spine, coalescing in a small, useless tail at her coccyx. Basically, it was a whole lot of work. At least she was blessed with a preen gland, producing her own preen oil and saving her the struggle of having to find another way to maintain her feathers’ quality, despite the fact that other people tended to find it…offputting. 

Well, Andreas was an asshole anyway, so what did she care about his opinion? Diego didn’t mind, and Hex never knew anything different. They were the only ones that mattered.

Maggie heard the door to Hex’s room open, and she plodded over to them, taking a seat on the couch near Maggie’s feet.

“Hey Diego?” she asked. “Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“That depends,” he hummed. The sound instinctively made Maggie relax. “Have you finished your studies for this week yet?”

Despite the fact that she was out of Maggie’s line of sight, she could almost feel Hex’s pout. “Maggie didn’t finish hers last week, but you still bought her chinese food when she asked!”

“Hey, I’ve been busy working at the construction site, making money so we can eat! I don’t always have time to read books,” Maggie complained. “Also, Diego loves me.”

“Actually, last week you skipped out on studying to try and go after Jordyn again, and she kicked your butt so bad she broke three of your ribs.”

“‘Scuse you! I kicked her butt! You weren’t there, you didn’t see!”

“I’ve gotta give that one to Hex, babe,” Diego said. “I did tell you not to go.”

“Whatever. Either way, I sorted it. She won’t be coming after us.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point,” Hex said. “The point being: is McDonalds on the table tonight?”

“...Actually, I could go for some McDonalds right now, too,” Maggie muttered.

Diego laughed. “Fine. But that’s the last time I’m ordering takeout for the rest of the month!”

Hex protested, and Maggie smiled as the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend continued on above her. A comforting warmth settled in her belly; pride and happiness in herself for succeeding in giving her little sister at least some semblance of a normal childhood. It wasn’t perfect by any means – it couldn’t be, what with the memories of the things they suffered in the facility still plaguing them every day – but like this, Hex at least got a chance. She got to bicker with her sister without getting beaten for it, got to skip out on her studies to play video games like a normal kid. Granted, Maggie herself was still learning just what ‘normal’ was. Despite the difference between their physical ages, she was only four months older than Hex, technically speaking. Having Diego around was certainly helpful, though. Without his help, the two of them would probably still be the naive, bumbling idiots they’d been the day they broke out of the facility.

Maggie closed her eyes, relaxing into the couch and reminiscing on how she got to where she was today.

—

5 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie sat on the end of her bed, shivering. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold, not with her wings wrapped around herself protectively like they were. There was nothing to be scared of in the immediate vicinity. And yet, this horrible, pervasive anxiety just wouldn’t leave her alone.

It had been there since this afternoon, when Father screamed at and hit her for flying over the obstacle course instead of running through it. She didn’t understand why it mattered if she could run well when she had a perfectly good pair of wings on her back to help her fly. It was stupid. Father was stupid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

As far back as she could remember, Father had been there, helping her recover after waking up from her supposed ‘accident.’ He was trying to help her become a superhero again, or so he said. Magpie just wasn’t sure that she believed it. If he was trying to help her, why would he turn around and hurt her in the same breath? Why did he want so much control over her, to the point where he refused to let her leave the facility, no matter how much she begged? It just didn’t sit right.

Really though, what was she supposed to do? Her memories were completely gone. She had no knowledge of who she used to be, or how the world worked. She had no choice but to just stick with Father until she learned more. Then, she would make a decision on whether or not to trust him.

She occupied herself by running her fingers through the feathers of her wings, straightening them out. Their softness was reassuring, but it did little to settle the quiver of unease that had sunken all the way down into her bones. 

The door opened, and Father walked in. Magpie instinctively hopped off of her bed, ready to defend herself. 

He studied her, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. “Come in, Hex.”

Someone entered the room behind him. Magpie gasped.

The girl was a lot younger than her, shyly hiding behind Father’s leg. Her short-cropped hair was black, just like Magpie’s, and she shared her tan skin. In fact, the girl was practically identical to her aside from her age and the lack of wings on her back. Who the hell was she?!

Father turned to the young girl. “This is the older sister I was telling you about. Her name is Magpie. You’re going to be staying with her from now on, okay?”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Magpie asked.

Father sighed again. “I’m truly sorry, I should have told you this earlier. Hex here is your younger sister. She was injured in the same accident as you, and only woke up a month ago. Since then, she’s been going through the same rehabilitation program that you did, and is finally well enough to join you properly.”

Magpie had absolutely no memory of a younger sister, but… what else could this girl possibly be? She looked exactly like her. It wasn’t like she had memories of anything else either, to be fair, and from the look on her face, Hex was thinking a similar line of thought.

Father placed a hand on Hex’s back and pushed her further into the room. A spark of protectiveness instinctively rose in Magpie’s chest.

“Get to know each other. Another bed will be brought in shortly.”

With that, Father left. Magpie and Hex stared at each other.

“I didn’t know I had a big sister,” Hex said. Her eyes kept flickering to Magpie’s wings. Magpie smirked.

“Well, I didn’t know I had a little sister, either.” She sat back down on the bed, motioning for Hex to join her. “You don’t remember anything either, huh?”

Hex shook her head, tentatively climbing up next to Magpie. 

“Even if I have no memories of you, it’s nice to finally not be alone. No one else… gets how hard it is, not knowing anything. Y’know?”

Hex hummed in agreement, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Can I… Um… Can I touch your wings?”

Magpie chuckled. “Sure. But be gentle.”

Hex reached out, carefully running her fingers along the feathers. Magpie tried not to shiver. The touch was gentler than anything she’d ever felt from another person before, and honestly, it was starting to get her a little choked up, especially with the cute little smile on Hex’s face as she did it.

There was something on the back of her neck. Magpie frowned.

“Hey, let me see the back of your neck?”

“Hm? Okay.”

Hex shifted a little to allow access. Sure enough, there it was. Starting just below her hairline, there were a bunch of lines making up a weird rectangle, and below that, there was writing.

G-6: ‘HEX’

PROPERTY OF PRECINCT 23

That same old dread settled into Magpie’s gut. Something just wasn’t right. Hex seemed oblivious to it, but somehow Magpie knew. Was she even really her little sister? Or was this just another lie from their ‘Father’?

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Little sister or not, Magpie had to protect her. They were in this situation together, and she wouldn’t let that old man hurt her like he had hurt Magpie. She swore it.

—

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie rolled her shoulders as she walked down the corridor, having finished her combat training for the day. Anxiety broiled in her gut for her upcoming exam tomorrow. It wasn’t that she was scared she would fail – there wasn’t even a chance of that. It was more a general excitement at the prospect of finally being allowed to go outside.

The past few months had been difficult, full of harsh training and harsher punishments, but as soon as Father gave her free access to the outside world, Magpie was gonna grab Hex and make a run for it. Their freedom from this underground hellhole was so close, she could almost taste it.

The thought of Hex made her sigh. The girl was struggling under Father’s ‘tutelage.’ She didn’t have the same distrust of him that Magpie did. She hung on his every word, followed every order to the letter, and the slightest hint of a smile from him was enough to have her practically melting. And yet, her young body just couldn’t live up to the demands being placed on her. He was being a lot gentler with her than he had been with Magpie, but she didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be long until his limited patience ran out.

Honestly, what was he expecting? Magpie was a full-grown woman of 25, but Hex was barely even a teenager! Of course she couldn’t complete all of these crazy, dangerous obstacle courses. If not for her telekinesis power allowing her to block the knives and poles being swung at her, she’d probably already be dead! Magpie herself had had way too many close calls on that course for comfort, and she could literally fly over it if she wanted.

The thought angered her, but she buried it down. Just one more day. One more day, and they could get out of here for good. 

Speaking of Hex’s training, Magpie was pretty sure it was still going on for today. She figured she might as well go and see how her little sister was going before heading back to their room.

A shrill scream and a loud crack echoed through the hallways. Magpie’s heart leapt into her throat. She started running.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d threatened Magpie with it a few times, and only backed down on account of not wanting to damage her wings. Hex didn’t have that protection. But, still. He wouldn’t do that to her, right?

The cracking and shrieking continued, and it became clearer and clearer that, apparently, he would. Magpie was going to kill him.

The sight she saw through the window when she got to Hex’s training course didn’t betray her expectations. 

Hex, shirtless and on her knees. Father standing behind her, whip in hand. A dozen red, bleeding lines criss-crossing Hex’s back as her entire body quaked.

A rage the likes of which she’d never felt before burned in Magpie’s gut. She rushed over to the door, dismayed to find that it was locked.

Fine. It wouldn’t stop her.

She threw her fist against the metal, denting it. A grim satisfaction settled inside of her. Nothing could protect Father from her wrath now.

She punched the edge of the door over and over again, until there was enough space for her to get her fingers in between it and the frame. Ensuring that her grip was sound, she heaved, contracting every fibre of muscle in her arms and literally ripping the sliding metal door out of the wall. Inside, Hex was curled up on the floor, and Father was staring at Magpie like she was the consequences of his actions made manifest. He was scared.

Good.

With a flap of her wings, Magpie was flying towards him, ready to rip him apart. 

Her fist sunk into his side with the force of a wrecking ball, and she felt his ribs crack under her knuckles. The hit sent him flying, slamming into the far wall like a sack of bricks.

Magpie landed on her feet, planting herself between Father and Hex. He wouldn’t hurt them anymore.

Father coughed and gasped, spitting up blood as he tried and failed to get to his feet. “Wh… what… Wh-what’s the meaning of this?! How dare you raise a hand against me!”

“You stay away from us!” Magpie yelled. “Come near Hex again, and I’ll kill you!”

Father finally managed to drag himself up, clutching his side. He scowled. “You’ve always been a precocious one, Five. I see I’ve been far too gentle with you. It’s fine, you’ll learn obedience in time. Here’s your first lesson!”

He threw his hand up and Magpie screamed, suddenly overcome with an impossible pain coursing throughout her entire body, pinpointed in the back of her neck. She collapsed as her knees gave out, writhing on the ground in unknowable agony. Darkness flashed across her vision. She heaved, her body curling in on itself and forcing her lunch back out of her mouth. This was it. She was going to die. Her body couldn’t take it. Hex was going to be all alone with that monster, and there was nothing she could do.

With that one last thought, everything went black and Magpie died.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

If only she’d actually died back then. It would have been a mercy. If she’d died, she wouldn’t be stuck on her knees, with her arms wrenched and twisted behind her back, chained to the wall tight enough that she couldn’t move at all without searing pain. If she’d died, she wouldn’t have been stuck in this exact position for an unknowable amount of time, muscles burning constantly, stomach aching with hunger, thirst quenched by only the most meagre amount of water that would keep her alive, soiling herself over and over with no way to stop it. Passing out was her only consolation, but even then, she never stayed asleep for long. It was stupid of her to think she’d had it bad before. This was true hell.

Magpie closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She couldn’t afford to waste hydration like that. Her only hope was that Hex had been spared. She would put up with this forever if it meant that her little sister was safe.

The door opened, bright light spilling out from the hallway and blinding Magpie after so many hours in the dark. It was probably Father, come to torment her again. She braced herself for another verbal lashing or boot to the jaw.

“Maggie?”

If Magpie had the energy to, she would have gasped.

“H… H-Hex…? Is… Is that… you?” she rasped out.

The figure haloed in light stepped closer. Sure enough, it was Hex, her little sister, looking down at her in horror.

“Oh god, Maggie. Did… Did Father do this to you?”

“What are you doing here?” Magpie croaked, ignoring the question. “If Father finds you, he’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s not here right now. He and a bunch of the scientists left. I’m gonna save you, okay?”

The thought made a lump rise in Magpie’s throat. Her bottom lip quivered. “H- Hex…”

The young girl wasted no more time, rushing to the shackles binding Magpie’s arms and legs. They came undone all at once and she collapsed to the floor, relief flooding her tattered muscles. Magpie couldn’t help it; she started sobbing.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” Hex said, kneeling at her side and gently massaging the base of her wings. “It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna get out of here tonight, just like you talked about.”

“I’m sorry… I c-couldn’t protect you… I’m so sorry, Hex.”

Hex’s voice cracked. “It- it’s alright. It’s not your fault, Maggie.”

Magpie let out a sigh, her body deflating. “I like it when you call me that. B-better than Magpie.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay?”

Maggie nodded. She sniffled, summing up the energy to speak. “How much time do we have?”

“A little. The hallways are pretty empty right now, so I should be able to get us back to our room without any trouble. We’ll have a bit of time to prepare, but then we have to move. Do… Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to fight?”

“I will be,” Maggie said. “No matter what, I will be. I’ll always fight for you, Hex.”

“Not alone, you won’t. I’ll fight, too. Like you said, we’re in this together. To the end.”

“To the end.”

—

Maggie laid in bed, enjoying her last few moments of rest before everything went down. Hex ended up carrying her down the hallway with telekinesis, and thankfully they didn’t run into anyone on the way. She’d had a shower – or, more accurately, Hex had showered her – gotten a change of clothes, and was now ready to fight for their freedom.

Okay, maybe ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration for her current state. Shakily hobble toward their freedom, more like.

As much as she didn’t want to move at all for the next month, the promise of the outside world was invigorating, and it gave her the strength to sit up.

“Feeling okay to go?” Hex asked.

Maggie sucked in a breath to steel herself and nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk too fast on my own, but together, we should be able to make it.”

Hex nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Maggie dragged herself off of the bed and pretty much flopped over Hex, who wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked out of their room and into the halls. The pain in her shaking limbs was almost overwhelming, but with Hex’s support, she could manage. She had to.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, or maybe it was because of what Hex said earlier, but the corridors were practically deserted, and they met no resistance as they slowly hobbled their way to the ‘elevator’ that Father was always leaving from. Now, Maggie didn’t really know what an elevator was, but she was sure gonna try and figure it out.

“Um… what do we do now?” Hex asked once they’d stepped inside the small room.

Maggie stared at the row of buttons on the wall.

“Uh, I dunno.”

Hex shrugged and pressed the bottom one, seemingly at random. Well, it was as good a plan as they could possibly have, given the circumstances.

The doors closed, and both of them yelped as the floor started moving. Okay. This was fine. Father travelled on this every day, so Maggie wasn’t gonna let it get the best of her.

After a few seconds, the doors opened again, and the world outside had changed. Instead of bright corridors, the room on the other side was dim, lit up only by dozens of… windows? That wasn't exactly what they looked like, but it was the closest approximation Maggie could guess, considering that she could see different parts of the facility through them. There was a chair in front of the windows, with someone sitting in it. Thankfully, it looked like they were asleep.

Was this the right way? It was worth a look around, at least.

Focusing all of their stealth training, Magpie and Hex tiptoed out of the elevator, sneaking towards the door on the opposite wall. Thankfully, whoever was posted up in the chair was out cold, so they were able to reach the door and get through without the person noticing anything awry.

The room on the other side was… weird. It was just as dimly lit as the previous room, only this time the light source was the large green cylinder next to the door. The walls were lined with other cylinders, but these ones were all made of metal, whereas the glowing green one seemed to be made of glass. Inside the cylinder was a small… something. Honestly, Maggie couldn't really tell what it was. It was tiny, and vaguely person shaped, but that was where her deductions ended.

A forgotten memory suddenly flashed through her mind. She remembered this green stuff. She remembered being submerged in it, floating in the warmth.

The realisation washed over her like ice water. This was it, wasn't it? This was where she came from. There was no ‘before’ the facility. This room was where she and Hex were… created.

Her heart lurched in her chest. They… they were never actually born, just… grown in a tube. No wonder Hex looked exactly like her. Screw ‘sister,’ they were probably the same damn person. And from the looks of things, the tiny speck floating in the green was probably the next little sister to come. What the hell did Father want with them that he would go as far as to create people?!

“There was never an accident, was there?” Hex asked. “This was where we came from.”

Maggie sighed, trying not to let the idea overwhelm her. “Looks like it.”

“B-but… what does that mean for us?”

She scowled. “It means nothing. It doesn't matter where we came from, because we're here now. We exist, we're people, and we're not gonna let Father push us around anymore just because he created us.”

Hex took a shallow breath and nodded. It looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. “Right.”

Maggie wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Instead, she looked at the little rectangle next to the cylinder. There was writing on it.

SUBJECT G-7: ‘JORDYN’

STATUS: NORMAL

She sighed. “Good luck, Jordyn. You're gonna need it.”

“I think we went the wrong way,” Hex said. “We shouldn't stay here.”

“Agreed. Let's go.”

They turned and exited back the way they came, into the room with all the windows and the sleeping person. They were going to just cross through back into the elevator when something on one of the windows caught Maggie's eye. She stopped walking.

“What is it?” Hex whispered.

“That window has writing on it. It says our numbers.”

“So?”

“Any information could be helpful, Hex. We know literally nothing about the outside world, or honestly, ourselves. It's worth it.”

“What if the guy wakes up?”

“I'll take him out.”

Hex bit her lip, hesitating, but ultimately, she nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them silently crept over to the wall of windows, focusing on the one at the bottom. The person in the chair – who they could see now was a man – didn’t react. Sure enough, the window displayed both of the numbers Maggie and Hex had on the back of their necks. They started to read.

Subject G-5

Power already manifesting in early development stage. Subject has a pair of wings growing from her back. Whether or not they will actually allow for flight remains to be seen. Named ‘Magpie.’

(I will not allow a subject with a purely cosmetic power to waste my time. Is there any way to ensure that her wings will work? - Andreas)

(With a little bit of genetic engineering, we can give her super-dense muscles for some added strength. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help! - George)

(Do it. - Andreas)

Maggie rubbed her bicep absent-mindedly. She thought she was this strong from her own merit, but it was just Father – or ‘Andreas,’ if she had to guess which one was him – tampering with her even more. The idea made her feel sick. She kept reading.

Post-birth, everything is falling into expected parameters. Habilitation to continue.

Subject has a particularly rebellious personality, and is not very receptive to orders or Andreas’ explanation of why she is missing her memories. Programming may have failed to set in properly for whatever reason. Continuing to study.

Subject appears to have become quite attached to G-6 post introduction, and vice versa. Whether or not this is a good or bad thing for the program remains to be seen.

Subject excelling at locomotive and combat training. Subject’s aggressive personality, while difficult to control at times, is proving very effective in battle. Expected to pass exam with ease.

Subject interrupted one of G-6’s punishments, assaulting Andreas and threatening him. Her protectiveness of G-6 has proven to be a liability. No solution to this has been found as of yet. Correction chip was effective in subduing subject. Punishment to be carried out.

‘Correction chip?’ That was what knocked her out back then? Maggie shuddered. Just how much had Andreas tinkered with her and Hex’s bodies?

That was where her entry ended, and Hex’s entry began. She continued on.

Subject G-6

Subject was pulled out of formation tank early due to unexpected complications that would have otherwise resulted in her death. As a result, her body and brain were not fully formed, leaving her in a child-like state. Estimated physical age to be around 12 years old. Termination was considered, but subject displayed a strong telekinetic power that could effectively make up for her underdeveloped body. Named ‘Hex.’ Proceeding with habilitation.

(Well, this throws a wrench into things. How are we going to explain this to G-5? - George)

(Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. - Andreas)

Upon introduction, subject bonded with G-5. Cohabitation seems as though it will be successful. Continuing habilitation and beginning locomotive training soon.

Subject is struggling with locomotive training due to development issues, but seems determined to continue. Programming seems to have settled in well.

Locomotive performance has plateaued at an unsatisfying result. Punishments to ensue if the subject shows no more progress.

That was the end of Hex’s notes. The last one made Maggie want to punch the window, but she held herself back. What kind of a monster would resort to… to doing what Maggie had witnessed, just because a child wasn’t doing good enough?!

“Maggie, your wings!” Hex whisper-yelled.

“Ngh?”

It was too late. In Maggie’s anger, she’d failed to notice that her wings had puffed up, getting ready to extend so she could fly. In doing so, they’d bumped into the guy in the chair and woke him up. The two stared at each other.

He started scrambling. “H-Hey! What-”

Hex’s eyes widened, and the man was suddenly flung across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough for Maggie to hear an audible crack. For a second, she thought he might have died, but he was still squirming around. She could use this.

Maggie let go of Hex and limped over to the man, gingerly kneeling down and grabbing him by the lapels. 

“Wh-what…? M… Magpie?”

“How do we get out of here?” she demanded. “Tell me, or I’m gonna start breaking things.”

“I… I don’t… what?”

From the look of it, he probably had a pretty bad concussion. Maggie sighed and tried again, speaking slower.

“How. Do. We. Get. Out. Of. Here?”

It finally seemed to click for the guy. About a hundred different emotions flickered across his face; most of them some variation of fear.

“Y-you… You can’t.”

Maggie snarled. “Why not?!”

“Th-they’ll find you. No matter where you go. They’ll track your chips and bring you back.”

“Chips? Like the correction chip?”

His eyes widened. “How do you…”

Maggie remembered when Andreas used it on her. She remembered exactly where the pain came from; where it was the most intense. “They’re in the backs of our necks, aren’t they?”

The man glanced from side to side, like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I…”

Whatever. That was good enough. They could figure out the elevator on their own. Maggie finished the guy off with the strongest jab to the face she could muster in her weakened state.

“What do we do now?” Hex asked as Maggie limped back over.

“We’ve got to get these chips out. They’re in the backs of our necks. If we don’t get rid of them, Andreas will be able to find us no matter how far we run.”

Hex grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. But that’s what we’ve trained for.”

—

With the help of a first aid kit and a shard of glass from a broken cup, Maggie and Hex cut the back of each other’s necks open, and managed to fish out the horrible chip. There was a lot of whimpering, crying, and shouting involved, but they got through it in the end, stitching each other up just as they were trained for. Maggie felt sick having to hurt Hex like that, but it was the only way for them to truly be safe from Andreas once they got out. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure that man never got his hands on them ever again.

Maggie wiped her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in the back of her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

Hex nodded, her bottom lip still quivering. “Yeah.”

They stumbled over to the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Maggie eyed the buttons on the wall wearily. Nothing to it but luck, she supposed. She pressed the one at the top and the elevator started moving again.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered in Hex’s ear. “We’re gonna be okay. No one’s gonna lay a finger on us anymore.”

Hex’s nose crinkled, but a smile played at her lips. “Your breath smells bad.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh. “Gimme a break. I haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. You’re just lucky we had time for me to shower, or I’d probably still reek of urine.”

Hex chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything when I found you, but wow, you didn’t smell good.”

“Aren’t I lucky to have such a caring little sister.” Maggie grinned.

The elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, revealing a room neither of them had ever seen before. It was wide and open, with a carpeted floor and several chairs sitting against the walls. Maggie couldn’t ascertain what its purpose was. On the far end of the room from the elevator, the wall was made entirely of glass, and a dim, cool light was drifting in from the other side. There was a door in the glass. It called to her; an odd tug in her gut urging her towards it. Somehow she knew; this was the way to the outside world. They were free.

She charged forward, filled with renewed strength, and slammed the door open. Cold air slammed into them right back.

There was a man in her way. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, then he looked to Hex and they widened even further. He wasn’t one of the familiar faces from the facility. This guy was just… a regular person. Huh.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Hex, flapped her wings, and finally took proper flight for the first time in her life. Cold wind rushed in her hair and through her feathers. Hex shrieked in delight from the thrill. The world stretched out below her and the sky opened up above her, little pinpricks of light twinkling in her eyes as freedom filled her lungs. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

If there was one thing Maggie had learned about the outside world in the brief week since they’d escaped, it was that the outside world was nothing like what she and Hex were used to. There were no more steadily provided meals, no convenient clothing that was always cleaned when they needed it, no directions or schedule or order. It was just her and her little sister against the world.

Hex’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Maggie to hear it. Maggie clenched her fists against the guilt that washed over her. She was supposed to be taking care of her, but she was failing miserably. She could barely even take care of herself. Hex was being so good about it, not complaining, always staying strong, but they couldn’t keep going like this. They were losing weight. Every night they almost froze to death, huddled up together wherever they could find even a modicum of shelter. What little food they could find was few and far between; pitiful scraps scavenged from bins or off the floor. Maggie had broken into a building to get them some new clothes the night they escaped, but it wasn’t going to last. She just had no idea how the outside world worked, frankly. Not for the first time, she wondered if escaping was a bad idea after all. 

Not everything was hopeless, though. Maggie had an idea that might help them get a little bit more to eat. She’d been doing her best to study up on what life was like out here; watching people from the shadows, reading whatever ‘newspapers’ she could get her hands on, and she reckoned she might have stumbled onto something promising.

A little ways away from their little hideout, there was a big plot of empty land, and every day, a bunch of guys would show up and start putting something together. A new building, if she had to guess. The way Maggie figured, if she could help the guys out a little bit, they might be inclined to help her out, too. A proper meal, some new clothes, maybe even a comfortable place to rest their heads. It was worth a shot, at least.

So, one day, Maggie and Hex donned their sunglasses – the best way they could figure to hide their identities, lest Andreas hear something and come looking – and made their way over to the yard.

The men were hard at work when they got there, each buried in their own task. Maggie walked up and, summing all of her courage, called out to them.

“Uh, e- excuse me!”

A few of the men stopped what they were doing and looked their way, before glancing to one man in particular. He stood up from where he was crouched near a steadily growing brick wall and raised a hand to the others. They got back to work, and the man walked over to the two of them.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked, taking off his own sunglasses and wiping the sweat from under the weird hat he and the rest of them were wearing. His tan skin was speckled with pockmarks, and a dark, full stubble had taken up most of his jaw. He was quite handsome, actually. Maggie’s stomach fluttered a little as he looked her up and down, glancing at her wings, though that also could have been from hunger.

“Yes, u-um, actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” Maggie clenched her fists, letting out an awkward laugh. This felt weird. “I, uh, I’m pretty strong. I could lift some things, i-if you need. Hex here has telekinesis, too, so… Um, she could also help.”

The man frowned. “You want… a job?”

Maggie didn’t know what that word meant, but she nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get some food, then yes.”

There was a pause as the man analysed her. “You guys are in some trouble, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Hex suddenly blurted out. “We’re… we’re just hungry. If there’s anything we can do to earn some food, please. Let us help.”

The man bit his lip, glancing to the side. After a few seconds, he looked back at Maggie. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. I can’t let you guys work on the site for… well, for obvious reasons, but if you come with me, I can get you two something to eat, and we can sit down and talk this through. The company I work for is owned by the Heroes’ Union, so we should be able to work something out and get you guys some help. Sound good?”

Half of that meant literally nothing to Maggie, but at this point, she would take anything. She nodded.

“Alright,” the man said, holding out his hand. “The name’s Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

—

Back in the present, Maggie smiled at the memory of her and Diego’s first meeting as she pulled her shirt back on and struggled to get her wings through the holes. It had been almost two years since then, and Maggie felt lucky for that chance encounter every single day.

Diego had taken them back to this very apartment, gave them their first warm meal in over a week, let them shower, gave them a change of clothes and heard them out; every last detail of their fucked-up story. At the time, Maggie hadn’t known how much to omit, so she just told him everything. If he’d been anyone else, that could have ended terribly for them, but thankfully, they’d run into one of the few genuinely good people in this city. He was the only one that knew the whole truth; that Maggie and Hex were nothing more than unwilling body doubles for a woman that died five years ago; that Andreas de Vygon was playing God below the precinct, creating life and forcing it to do his bidding; that Seven wasn’t just a superhero working for the police, but the next body double down the line. As far as any of his bosses knew, Diego had just taken in some powered people in need of help, and provided him the resources to do so. If not for his generosity, Maggie was sure she and Hex would have died on the streets, clueless and alone.

Not wanting to be a burden, Maggie once again begged Diego to let her work at the construction site, and finally, he acquiesced, promising to teach her how things worked. These days, it was what she spent most of her time doing, saving the company money by using her wings to do the high-up work that anyone else would need safety equipment for. It was hard work for sure, but it was rewarding, knowing that she was helping earn to support herself and her sister.

It was about a year after they started living together that this… thing that had been dancing between them finally caught alight. Maggie’d had time to learn about the world, about people, about relationships and how things worked. She’d seen them on TV, read about them in books, figured out how to determine the good from the bad by scouring the internet, and finally, made her move on Diego. They’d been sharing a few drinks after Hex went to bed, watching a movie together on the couch, and Maggie just went for it, grabbing his face and kissing him then and there when the moment presented itself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just pent up from literally never receiving sexual touch from another person in her life, but things progressed very quickly from there and they took it straight to the bedroom. Safe to say, it was a night she would never forget.

They had a proper conversation about it the morning after, where Diego admitted that he’d felt the same way for a while, but wasn’t comfortable making a move considering that, for a lot of their relationship up to that point, Maggie was entirely dependent on him, and considering how little she knew about… anything, the dynamic would have been a little weird. But now that she’d started working, now that she had her own money and a half-decent understanding of the world, and now that he knew she was actually super interested in him, too, he figured they could give this thing a shot. And the rest was history.

Jordyn’s appearance on the streets had scared her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she came after their fragile peace, smashing through their glass walls and leaving Maggie and Hex nothing more than a bad memory in Andreas’ mind, splattered across Diego’s floor. That tiny speck that once floated in the green had grown into a monster, and Maggie had no choice but to get ahead of it.

To that end, and much to Diego’s protest, Maggie had gone hunting. What she needed was equipment. Weaponry that could stand up to a killer of Maggie’s own calibre. Sure, Maggie’d had more time to build her muscles, and she was undoubtedly one of the strongest people alive already, thanks to Andreas’ tinkering, but Jordyn had the backing of the entire police force behind her. Maggie needed to be smart.

So, she slaughtered two SWAT officers and stole their guns. Then she used that sniper rifle to shoot Jordyn down. Only, she underestimated the strength of her armour, and only succeeded in pissing Andreas off. For a month, she laid low, hiding out in the apartment and waiting for things to cool off. And once they did, she tried again.

Jordyn was no pushover, though, and gave her a real run for her money. Maggie got her down though. Got her down, and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and ending it, when that pathetic, terrified look on her face made Maggie freeze. 

Did she make the right choice in letting her little sister live? Who could say. The only thing to do was move forward, and take every day as it came. Maggie and Hex were alive, and they were free, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

“Maggie?”

“Hm?” She blinked, returning to her body. Hex had been calling to her. “What’s up?”

“We were trying to ask what you wanted from McDonalds. Get lost in your head again?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Thinkin’ about stuff.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and order, birdie, or I’ll get you a 20 pack of chicken nuggets again,” Diego joked.

Maggie let out a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare! Making me eat my own kin; shame on you!”

Diego laughed, and Maggie basked in the sound. It was times like these that it felt like everything would turn out alright after all.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

wahoo bird lady backstory!!!

i do really love maggie as a character, but in truth, she doesn't actually get all that much screentime in the current outline of the plot. granted, that outline is in the literal haziest terms imaginable, so that's open to change lol. or maybe i'll write a maggie spinoff once this is done

only 2 more chapters until the end of this arc! next up, we reconvene with Steve and see the results of his little investigation hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (evil but cute laugh)

thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog! It's v appreciated :> Ciao!

[bunniekittiee]

(MK1) Bi-Han Headcanons

I was listening to Jar of Flies and it came into my head that I never did separate Bi-Han headcanons about himself. So this is what I think he would be like. This is also very music-based but yk its all good.

Bi-Han is known as the goth man of Mortal Kombat because of Noob but I think he would be a bit more grungey.

He loved dark and haunting music even before he became a wraith.

Alice In Chains was his first listen to Earthrealm music as he had never interacted with it before. Johnny had to tell him about them.

“I think it’s up your alley.” Johnny told him as he handed him a CD player with a few CDs.

Bi-Han did not trust his judgement at first and even put it off for a little bit, but he soon regretted putting it off as soon as he listened to Jar of Flies.

Absolutely loved AIC after this.

Related Jar of Flies to his own trauma with losing his mother and his father’s harsh treatment.

That’s another can of worms that cannot be opened in great detail today.

Would also like Narrow Head, Superheaven (duh i headcanon every character to like them), Mareux, Basement, Nine Inch Nails, but that’s just to name a few.

Associates “Hole in the Ground” by Superheaven with Kuai Liang and tries to not listen to it too much.

This is much worse after his betrayal. Bi-Han hardly touches the song after because of this.

It would only make him feel horrible and guilty.

Also associates “Necrosis” by Narrow Head with his father because of his hurtful treatment as a kid.

Bi-Han was trained a pushed a lot harder than Kuai Liang and even Tomas who was not their blood kin, so Bi-Han held a lot of resentment for his father.

He treated Tomas more like a son than he did Bi-Han.

Bi-Han wondered if this was so he could become a tough Grandmaster, and that’s how he reasoned it in his head, but it still messed with him.

When he lost his mother, it was devastating. She was the only one who supported him and took care of him after suffering from bouts of hypothermia from his father testing his might in the Arctika.

She was there for everything and always made sure Bi-Han was well.

When she passed, he did not have that support system anymore. That is when he knew it was time to become a man and move on.

He never moved on, but he did become a man.

His exterior was already cold, but it became much more worse after the death of his mother.

That is the Bi-Han we know today.

He never held much warmth despite his brothers telling him he should.

He hardly wanted to give his father a funeral, but he knew he could not go in that direction. He needed to honor him despite his dishonorable acts against the Lin Kuei.

He was a weak, senile Grandmaster. He was not fit to rule.

But Bi-Han was, he was ready to reform the clan and change the weaker policies his father implemented after the death of his mother.

Kuai Liang always tried to reason with Bi-Han, but he never changed his mind. Once Bi-Han was set, he was ready.

It didn’t matter what Kuai said or did, Bi-Han would never budge.

He was very stubborn to the dismay of his brothers.

Late at night if Bi-Han could not sleep, he would listen to music to help him.

Bi-Han could not sleep well because of the creeping thoughts of his childhood/adulthood that caused him great pain.

It often seeped into his dreams which caused him to not be able to go back to sleep.

That’s why he looks so tired, he just has a hard time sleeping. His mind is too occupied and the gears are always turning about.

“Blank” by Glare also makes Bi-Han reflect on his life. He listens to that when he can’t sleep.

Sometimes, it’s able to lull him to sleep.

Tomas and Kuai do worry about Bi-Han.Tomas suspects that Bi-Han is depressed, maybe anxiety-ridden.

But they’ll never know. Bi-Han is super against vulnerability and he hates to feel that way.

He also does not like to be forced to talk about his feelings or what’s bothering him. It makes him feel like he’s trapped in a corner like a wild animal.

After Bi-Han’s betrayal, Sektor and Cyrax are the ‘replacements’ for his siblings.

But they never are interested in what Bi-Han’s mental stability is. They are not that close to be aquatinted like that.

All they care about is having a Grandmaster that is ready to conquer and give them orders. They are warriors, they are ready for anything Bi-Han throws their way.

When Bi-Han was younger, his father did everything to make his life difficult. This lead to Bi-Han being very angry often.

He trained alone in the temple, his knuckles bloody from the amount of punching he did. His knuckles would be raw and cut open badly.

His mother would coax him away from the training room to let her wrap his hands up. She did this very often as Bi-Han was the main target of his father’s wrath.

He hardly cried in front of her, but every once in a while he broke. But she picked up his pieces.

Bi-Han loved his mother greatly, her death pained him the most out of everyone.

So when he looks in the mirror, all he sees reflecting back at him is his mother.

Her eyes, her facial features, her caring demeanor.

But Bi-Han was hardened, extremely rough around the edges.

He could never be as caring and loving like her. It wasn’t in his DNA to be that way. That was more Kuai Liang’s personality.

Sometimes if he stared for too long, he would see her in the mirror. But only for a mere moment.

He blamed it on lack of sleep and never told anyone.

Bi-Han is extremely troubled, and he requires a lot of patience and understanding. He will not open up right away to anyone.

[katerinaaqu]

The Iliad Plague

Honestly I am disappointed at how little we talk about the Iliad plague that was sent by Apollo in the first rhapsody of the Iliad to the Greeks after Chryses, Apollo's priest, begged for justice for the disrespect Agamemnon showed him plus the fact that his daughter was not returned to him.

"First he stroke the mules and the swift dogs but then he shot his shafts to the humans themselves and the funeral pyres were burning non-stop and crowded and for nine days the army was being assaulted by the God's arrows"

(Translation by me)

So we basically get that the plague spread to animals first and then swiftly passed to humans and it became deadly very quickly.

It seems like a classic case of an assault of the bacteria Yersina which is responsible for three major plagues; the bubonic, septisemic and pneumonic plagues. All three seem to be associated with transmission from animals to humans. In this case my random guess would be that this would be the case or a pneumonic plague. It transmits from the breathing of fumes and it is much easier transmittable from one person to another given that both other plagues require the mix of bodily fluids. Since the disease seems to strike animals commonly not associated with food like mules or dogs it seems more probable the disease was of a lung nature.

The main symptoms of a pneumonic plague are:

Fever

Headaches

Shortness of breath

Chest pain

Intense coughing

Hemoptysis (aka "coughing out blood")

It seems indeed highly probable that the plague was of such nature which would lead to a large number of soldiers suffer from headaches and fever which gradually got worse and added coughing chest pain and coughing out blood (the other plagues have also intense vomiting-boubonic- and blood infection -septisemic-). Various post-homeric and mainly early Roman sources speak on the contributing of Palamedes suggesting better diet and exercise countering the effects of the plague or preventing it. Although traditionally we know plagues can be effectively cured with the use of antibiotics it is probable that the mention of cardio exercise could be a wink that a good cardio system can defend itself against lung diseases.

Either way it surprises me that the losses of war when studied rarely mention the results of this plague since many people count only the deaths in battle and not this which is ironically the only set of deaths seemingly affecting only the Greek side. It is interesting given how many times cities being surrounded by armies are the first to suffer from diseases rather than the people outside (although both sides suffer eventually from diseases). Realistically speaking we do understand why we see so many mentions of diseases.

And again when it comes to the sequel Odyssey as well, very few people consider not only the losses Odysseus undoubtedly suffered in battle but also one should expect he lost a man or two from the plague as well (mind you I can easily imagine some kings also being affected by it at least at early stage especially the less vigorous such as Nestor because of age or Menelaus if we take my headcannon that he probably was a bit frail of health later as I mentioned to the post tagging @thehelplessmortals which could indeed back up more how careful Helen was with him since plagues do affect massively the health of lungs or heart permanently

More vigorous and fighting fit characters like Achilles or Diomedes or Odysseus and Agamemnon seemed less likely to have been stroke by the plague. Achilles is also the one who calls upon council of kings to find a solution.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

During my collaboration with @artsofmetamoor I always entertain the thought of disease to the various war camps. Disease would often be the most common way soldiers died instead of battles.

In our stories our characters suffer a lot of many things but this also makes me do a note to self to refer more on plagues or diseases

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (47)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N NOT BETA READ. We have only two more chapters left of this arc! After that I might be taking a break for a bit. Not only to focus on some original novels I have planned but to also have a few chapters ready for you all to read. Cause this having to write chapters the day of updating--hate it lol.

It was a quick affair for when someone had come in to take away Hendricks. He struggled for a moment but after Wooyoung got annoyed with the man’s shouting and fighting, he was quick to shove a rag into the man’s mouth. Seeing as he was cuffed, Hendricks was only able to huff and puff into the fabric. 

When you turned back around to face Klein you watched as he was looking over the papers once more. He had a somber look on his face, one of regret as he sighed at each word that seemed to process into his head. 

“I'd like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Klein said, not meeting any of your eyes. 

“You don't seem like it.” Hongjoong raised his brows, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the man. 

“You're still criminals in the eyes of the public.” Klein finally looked up, sighing to himself as his eyes skimmed over all nine of you. 

“We understand.” You spoke up. “You're a respectable man who has a city to protect.”

You watched as Klein suddenly thought about the entire town, going back to clenching his jaw as he began to think lowly of himself. It was a tough job to take on, especially for a town that was the second most populated. You were never going to be able to make everyone happy, but you were able to make the world a better place. At least in your own image.

Your family had always supported Klein–a vast majority of the town did–so he must have felt a heavy pressure on his shoulders knowing that he was close to putting all of them in danger. There aren't many people you are able to trust when it comes to positions in office, especially not with times growing more and more. People were getting greedy as things began to change, which led to problems. But that shouldn’t stop the few who were trying to keep things at peace from doing what they must. 

While Klein had the right intentions–wanting to see Cromer grow into a modern city–he didn’t realize he would fall into a pit of snakes. Human era was inevitable. You were just glad to have stopped everything before it got too far. 

“Will you leave soon?” Klein asked. 

“We have a mission to finish.” Yunho explained. “This was only a side quest.” He chuckled.

Klein huffed a little laugh, pressing his lips together. “This drug.” He asked, tapping on the papers and envelopes. “What happens if it gets out?”

“The world falls.” Seonghwa answered. “It becomes baron of the joys we see everyday.”

“We've seen what it could do.” Jongho called from the back of the group. “It's not something this world should suffer from.”

“Why hasn't Aurora done anything then?” Klein shook his head, not understanding the whole thing. 

“They don't have evidence to prove corruption yet.” Hongjoong told the mayor. “That's what we've been trying to do for the past couple of years.”

The man took a moment to gather his thoughts before moving to grab the things from his desk. “Here.” Klein began to gather all the papers between Quaid and Hendricks, handing them over to you. “Take these then.” He told you.

“What about Quaid?” Mingi asked.

“I've already sent people after him.” Klein answered the boy. “We'll take care of him here in Cromer seeing as it's my jurisdiction.” He turned to look at you, giving you a thankful bow of his head. “Should anything else come to light though, I'll be sure to send word to you.”

“Thank you, Mayor Klein.” You smiled in thanks. 

You watched as he suddenly clapped his hands, rubbing them together. He gave you all a raise of his brow, pursing his lips. “You've all committed crimes that should be punishable but it seems to me you're all hard to catch.”

All of you suddenly looked at him oddly, frowning a bit at his words. You were a bit worried that Klein would somehow punish the boys for all they had done, but as you registered the rest of his sentence you concluded that wasn’t going to be the case. 

“You're letting us go?” You said, being the first to realize what it was he meant. 

“If what you say is true about this drug, then it seems we have a common enemy.” Klein nodded to himself. “I have a city full of people to keep safe. It's what I signed up for as mayor of Cromer.” He took a breath, coming to a stand. “I'll tell the city it wasn't you who stole the money.”

“Tell them you had money left over.” Hongjoong suggested. “You'll be seen as the hero again.”

“As much as one would love to take credit for that, I could not.” Klein shook his head. “I was going to send that money somewhere terrible. I could never live with myself had you not taken it.”

Your shoulders dropped at the man’s convention. He was right in thinking a majority of people would have loved to take the glory and credit for saving the town, but Klein wasn’t a majority of people. He was someone selfless who took care of others first. It was something each of the boys were quick to realize after speaking with him more. 

At least by what you could tell from the looks on their faces. 

“What will you say then?” Wooyoung asked. 

“The truth.” Klein spoke up, smiling as he thought it over. “ATEEZ were the ones who took the money.” He smiled, watching as the boys all gave him skeptical looks. 

“They have never seen your faces.” The mayor added. “I don’t believe they will suspect 8 handsome, young men who work for one of Cromer’s hotels. Unless you have warranted for people to think that.” Klein joked. 

The boys all looked at each other for a moment, humming in thought as they pondered on what they had all done so far in your town. “They haven’t.” You answered for them, sending them looks that called for them to behave. 

You turned back to Klein, bowing your head and giving him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Klein nodded his head, giving you a kind smile as well. 

Just as the boys all turned one by one to leave the office, you suddenly gasped, stopping to turn back around. “One more thing!” You called back.

“Yes?” Klein answered. 

“My father.” You began. “He's kind of in jail at the moment.”

Klein laughed, nodding in understandment. “I'll have him released, don't worry.”

“Thank you, Mayor.” You bowed one more time, turning to Hongjoong who waited closer to you.

“Be careful on your mission.” Klein called out before you all left the door. “It doesn't seem easy.” He added. 

You watched as the boys gave each other knowing looks again, Hongjoong sighing as he bowed his head. “It never is.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[danjaley]

Alternative Ending to 1793

(Lots of alternative plotlines in this year!)

So the gist of the plotline always was that Matt and Jon return, on the whole successful, but nothing really is as it was before. Jon is heartbroken about Nicolas and went to exile in Cornwall to avoid him. Matt learns about his children's illnesses and Alasdair's plans to visit his mother. Originally there was to be a complete hysteric letter from herself, but it never progressed past those two sentences. I still think Ysobel's reaction is very much in character, but when I wrote this, I thought it was the first letter the Duchess sent in those nine years.

The Duchess’s letter: Do not deny me the comfort to see my son once more! It is the most cruel thing a mother can suffer to be separated from her child! Ysobel: I don’t want to argue to the contrary, but she doesn’t seem to have felt the cruelty very keenly these past nine years.

Then, Jon fell ill in Cornwall and had to be rescued by Matt. In this version it's much more apparent why Matt feels he needs to rush to his aid, and also it's not Christmas yet. Emotionally, I rather liked this version. But what I finally went with brought out better that Matt just can't get down from his stress-level and sense of responsibility. Although he is overreacting in assuming Jon was dying.

Matthew: Shon hashn’’ shen’ a le’’er thish ‘eek. Ah’m shailing ‘o Cor’’all. Alice: Are you sure it’s not just the post being delayed? Matthew: Ah shaid Ah’d come if he shtopped wri’ing. Sho Ah’ll go. Ah can’’ jusht leave Shon ‘o die! No’ af’er Ah kille’ a ma’ for him. Alice: Nobody said he was dying! Wait, you did what!? […]

(Jonathan Brodie to Matthew McCarric, letter delayed in the post) I have a bad cold. Only writing to prevent you from rushing to Cornwall.

Jonathan: Matt! What are you doing here? I wrote to you! Matthew: Musht ha’e mished me. Are y’ ill? Why ish it sho col’ here? Jonathan: To fetch more wood I’d have to get out of bed. And the landlady’s servants are busy elsewhere. Matthew (shouting down staircase): Ah wan’ ‘o shee a fire in the Shottish Shentleman’sh room thish inshtan’! An’ bring shome hot shoup! * * * Matthew: Are y’ be’’er? Jonathan: Yes. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.

Another reason I changed plans was that I felt a professional failure would be a bit too much misfortune for poor Jon. Actually, the next scene in which we'll see him at work in 1794 makes much more sense if he was successful in Cornwall.

Matthew: Wha’ are we goin’ ‘o do wi’ you? Jonathan: I don’t know any more. I’d really like to go home. Then I could at least read my books and have Sarah look after me. But my apartment is only a few streets away from my parents’ house. Mother would want me to visit. It would only be painful. And dangerous. Matthew: Have you finishe’ your work for ‘he Cornish Shentleman? Jonathan: No. I fell ill. He chose another architect’s plans.

And then there was all this fuss getting him back to Edinburgh where we need him. That's why I finally decided to cut it short, let him return straight away, and jump to the Christmas scenes.

Jonathan: The only idea I had at all was to sell my apartment and buy another somewhere else. Glasgow might work. It’s not too far away and closer to you. I’m certainly cured of the English south. But then – as someone who knows a thing or two about real estate – it would be such a bad deal to trade in Edinburgh for Glasgow just because of a broken heart. Matthew: Jusht co’e home wi’ me. You ca’ shtay i’ the guesht room you deshigned yourshelf. Jonathan: Thank you. But I can’t intrude upon you and Alice when your baby is so ill. But we can travel together and I take a room in Glasgow. At least until Christmas. Mother will invite everyone then and I can’t stay away without giving very good reasons. Matt – you’ll come to all the Christmas gatherings too, won’t you? Then I could at least talk to you the entire time. Matthew: Ah can’’ shtay away fro’ ‘hem either.

Regrettably though, this eliminated the concluding gag for Captain Burton's storyline:

Captain Burton: Good morning! Is Mr McCarric in? Eliza: I’m afraid not. He’s down South to help a relative in need. Captain Burton: Are you kidding me!?

Secret fun fact: I'm really glad it's 1794 now! I'm still not sure if it's a very elaborate joke between us or if we're actually going to do this. But my sister and I started researching for a historical novel to write together, which would be set in 1794 (got to do with the French Revolution, but not with Scotland). I've been confusing the two years all this summer!

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

Everyone’s gone UFO crazy. Maybe The X-Files should come back

Chrissy Iley

MARCH 2, 2024

Starring in a poignant new film adapted from his own novel, David Duchovny reveals the heartache of almost losing his daughter... and why his most famous show could yet return

No wonder David Duchovny has written, directed and stars in his latest movie Bucky F***ing Dent... it’s based on his own bestselling 2016 novel of the same name. Poignant and funny, it examines a father-son relationship via baseball, with X-Files star David playing Marty the dad, who’s dying of lung cancer, and Logan Marshall-Green from Spider-Man: Homecoming as his estranged son Ted.

The real Bucky Dent went down in history for scoring an unlikely home run for the New York Yankees in a 1978 tie-breaker against arch rivals the Boston Red Sox, and the film’s title is how generations of Boston fans have referred to him ever since, a metaphor for heartbreak. Set in that same year, the film follows struggling writer Ted as he moves back into his childhood home when he hears his father is dying, prompting a whirlwind of dark revelations from the past. Meanwhile, Boston fan Marty’s health dips whenever his beloved Red Sox lose, so New York fan Ted orchestrates the illusion of a Boston winning streak...

Marty has transferred his feelings for an old flame (the secret love of his life, not his wife) to the Red Sox. ‘The intensity of fandom has always puzzled me,’ says David. ‘It has to be a kind of sublimation. My father and I liked playing baseball; my best childhood memory is playing it with him and enjoying the simple communication you can have through a game, but we didn’t share the fandom thing.

‘Marty’s transposed his feelings for this woman to the Red Sox, and the movie is really about the idea of losing. In America there’s a sick addiction to winning and winners, but most of us have to lose every day. Suffering makes us human - it unites us all.’

There’s a moment in the film when Marty is talking about a chest infection that almost killed Ted as a child. Marty says he begged God or whoever to take his lungs instead and let Ted live. ‘One thing I’ve never told anyone is that when my daughter was nine months old she got really ill,’ reveals David. ‘Her mother [actress Tea Leoni] and I had to face the fact we might lose her and I remember feeling so devastated, I didn’t think I could love anything again if she died.’

His daughter West, now 24, has since become a successful actress who seems to have inherited her mother’s stunning blonde looks and her father’s charisma. ‘I think she has a greater passion for acting than either of her parents ever did,’ he says. They also have a son Kyd, 21, and David says the hardest moment of his life was telling them he and Tea were divorcing ten years ago, as his own parents had done when he was 12. ‘It was far worse telling them than actually experiencing it. When you’re a child you just try to get through it, you don’t feel responsible. As a parent I felt at least 50 per cent responsible.’

Tall and thin with good skin and an easy charm, David seems untouched by the ageing process, although this role is a huge shift from the Lotharios he usually plays, such as bed-hopping writer Hank in comedy-drama series Californication. Does getting older bother him? ‘Of course, and as an actor you have to think of the different roles you’ll be offered. When I was writing this script I was thinking I’d play Ted, the son. We tried to make it four or five years ago and I was still going to play Ted, but then when it came to doing it I realised it just wouldn’t work, so I thought I’d play Marty. And that was exciting because it was very different.’

Californication won two Emmys and a Golden Globe, but was notorious for its portrayal of LA’s seedier side. Does he think it could be made now? ‘Certainly they would insist on intimacy coaches, but I don’t think it would be made now, for the wrong reasons. There was a misunderstanding about what it was about. It was meant to be funny, and it was meant to be about family and love. But what everybody got excited about was not that,’ he says, referring to the furore over the sex scenes. ‘In my mind the show was misperceived.’

Another of David’s roles that would spark a row today was a transgender FBI agent in Twin Peaks in the early 90s, when almost no transgender women were on TV. Again it was groundbreaking. ‘But if you’re playing a murderer no one asks you, “Have you murdered people?”’ he says. ‘It was just being an actor.’

David is, of course, best known for The X-Files, in which he played UFO-obsessed FBI agent Mulder opposite Gillian Anderson’s sceptical Scully. The series finally bowed out in 2018 after 11 series, but could there ever be another? ‘Maybe - it might even be more current now,’ he says, referring to the recent release of top-secret UFO files in the US. ‘I’m not personally interested in UFOs so it doesn’t make it more exciting for me to revisit The X-Files. It was a role I played but I wasn’t passionate about the subject. Maybe I’m the only one who isn’t.’

There was a brouhaha at the time about the huge pay discrepancy between David and Gillian, and I wonder if it would be difficult for him to work with her again. ‘As far as I know, by the end there was no difference at all between us, but Hollywood salaries are very weird,’ he says. ‘I’m going to London soon and I’ll see Gillian because she lives there now. I saw her in the West End doing All About Eve and I enjoyed it. She wished me luck with Bucky too.’

In recent years David has explored his passion for music, releasing a couple of folk-rock albums. So does he see himself as an actor, a director or a musician? ‘All of them, I’m an artist,’ he says. ‘I can filter stuff through a song, a novel, a performance or through directing. There are all kinds of ways of being an artist. I write best about dramatic things. There’s a way to deal with suffering to create art.’

Bucky F***ing Dent, Glasgow Film Festival, Wednesday. Visit glasgowfilm.org

[dazzle02]

Buck and Maddie's relationship is one of the most interesting on the show to me personally.

She was nine, she lost her brother and gained a new one and suddenly she's not just an older sister, she's a parent too. She's nine years old and someone's Mother. While not being allowed to properly grieve the brother she just lost. Not even allowed to acknowledge his existence.

And of course she did the best she could, but she was a child raising another child. No parent has all the answers, but especially not a CHILD who never asked to have this put on them. So she of course got things wrong. One that really sticks out is her explanation about their parents worry when Evan falls off his bike. She kinda put the idea in his head that getting hurt is what will get him that love he craves from their parents. And that was NOT her fault. She was 12. And also living in this abusive household. But she was the one that gave him the idea to continue hurting himself to get attention. And there are likely other things that he learned from her that weren't actually healthy, due to her being a child trying to learn about the world herself.

And when she left for Boston, that would definitely feel like a parental abandonment for Evan due to her being the only parental figure he ever really had. But it WASN'T. It was a 19 year old moving out and going to School, which is what a lot of people that age tend to do. But to Evan, it would feel like the only parent he's ever known leaving him. And logically he'd know that's not the case. She's NOT his mother, she's his sister and she's supposed to live her life and she never asked to raise a child at such a young age. He was NOT her responsibility. But emotionally? That's the start of his abandonment issues.

And it's why Maddie can be kinda overbearing with him at times too. (Especially after the lightning strike...) It was ingrained in her from the age of nine that he's her kid and she has to take care of him. So as soon as she sees him suffering in any way, those instincts come back full force. She's gotta take care of him, make sure he's not going to die while she's not looking. AND make it clear she's not leaving him again.

They've had to figure out how to go from the relationship they had as kids where she was more a parent than a sister, to a new one now that they're adults where they're siblings.

And that's gotta be tough. And I would love more of a focus on that really. Just them still kinda adjusting to having to have this new dynamic. Because logically they both are aware that Maddie having to raise Buck was messed up and unfair for them both. But it's also just what's normal to them.

And any time someone comes for Maddie about not being a good sister it makes my blood boil. SHE DOES HER BEST! She was a child raising a child, and she's now an adult who went through abuse for pretty much her entire life! First the neglect from her parents (plus the parentification) and then her marriage to Doug for like 15 years! Of course she's not perfect. And as much as they both love each other, they ARE BOTH part of each others traumas. For Maddie a big trauma for her was having to raise him, and for Buck a big trauma for him was her leaving. And they've managed to work through that for the most part. It's always going to be there, they're both very defining for each of them. For Maddie having to become a parent at such a young age made her feel as though she couldn't be a very good one due to not being a perfect parent AS A CHILD. And for Buck, Maddie leaving was definitely the start of his abandonment issues. And neither of them are at fault for that, but they both have these issues that are directly tied to each other. It all comes back to their parents though. If they'd just done their jobs as parents, things would be so different.

Some of this may not make much sense as it is very hot here right now and I am not thinking right. But you get what I mean, hopefully. 🤣

I would also like to add to Supernatural fans, you can not claim Dean Winchester is just the best brother in the world for raising Sam and then turn around and claim Maddie is a terrible sister. Especially as Dean could be very abusive at times...