#He won't take off the safety bear hat. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delopsia · 9 months ago

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stars on the barn floor | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 9,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: AFAB!Reader, werewolf!Rhett, blowjobs, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, knotting, light bondage to keep Rhett from eating you alive, collars, heavy usage of "good boy," vague size kink, and a fluffy ending to top it all off. Rhett's just a big puppy in this one ❣ Brief Summary: This full moon, you're not letting Rhett spend his whole night chained up in the barn. No, tonight, you're gonna have some fun with him.

The crunch of gravel beneath your feet might be the only sound on this ranch. Where the wind is usually eager to whip past you, it has now fallen quiet, too exhausted to continue its ambitious journey. You think there may be some crickets chirping contentedly next to the pasture gate, the one that still bears the scars of being rammed by a rich kid's Ford. It ought to be fixed by now; Cecelia says lightning doesn't strike twice, but Royal says that a new one will just get torn up, too.

The old man must have a crystal ball up in that hat of his.

Fortunately, you don't need magic to know that you're about to walk your happy self into the equivalent of a lion's den, armed with nothing but a few flimsy pieces of leather and a strip of black fabric. A rifle would be a good start, but even that won't be enough to protect you if things get...hairy.

These barn doors are so much bigger than they looked from the safety of the porch, towering over your head, the rusted handle ice cold in your shivering hand. You've got time to turn back. Even if he does know you're out here, you know he won't hold it against you for making the better, safer decision.

But...

Chains clatter together, chased by a groan so low that you don't know if it's coming from the man inside or the settling of the barn.

"Rhett?" Your voice dies in your mouth as you push the door open, barely audible to your own ears. It's a wonder if your tone even carries a foot in front of you, never mind across the room.

Boots scuff against concrete, spurs jingling. He heard you.

The prickle of your skin suggests that he can see you, but as you trudge into the darkness, it sets in that you cannot see him. Navigating blindly, hands held out at your sides, feeling along the rough texture of the old stalls, ancient and dusty from lack of use. They haven't seen a horse since last summer when Rhett and Perry put the finishing touches on the new barn.

"Rhett?" Calling out again, as if doing so will make it easier to locate him.

That low growl is closer than you anticipated it would be.

Light trickles in through the warped window frames overhead. Thin slivers cascade downward, miniature spotlights revealing everything in its path. There's movement in the center of the room, chains clinking as a slim figure interrupts the delicate light show of the full moon, stumbling left, then right, bound to the center of the room.

Opening your mouth once more, you call out his name. "Rhett?"

His head jerks. Boots stomping the dusty floor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. All it would take is for those steel chains to come off the overhead beam, and you'd be toast, sliced up like tomorrow's breakfast sausage.

But he already sees you.

The light catches in his golden eyes, reflecting off them like mirrors. Your blood runs so cold that it might freeze. A handful of times, you've caught sight of their unnatural glow, rising to the surface when he grows angry, but it's never been quite this bright. Blindingly so. And yet, they're not all that different from the ones you've come to know.

Soft around the edges, encased by long eyelashes that flutter as you come near.

"Get out," curt. Grit through his teeth.

If you didn't know any better, you would think he was in the middle of a roleplay. His ears have long since broken from their natural human form, pointed and wolfish, sitting atop his head like a pair of triangles. There's a tear out of the left one, right at the tip, from a scuffle with his brother a few years back.

Perry still doesn't talk about where the bite scar on his shoulder came from.

"Get." Fangs flash with the opening and closing of his mouth. "Out."

Perhaps you're simply entranced by the sight of him; it's been days since you last saw him, and even then, it was a short meeting in a feed store checkout line. Or maybe you've plum lost your mind, a dumb sheep walking into the mouth of a hungry wolf.

The leather slips from your hands, falling to the floor with a clatter so loud you reckon it'll wake the neighbors. Rhett jolts. Stumbling backward with a heavy growl that vibrates all the way up into your bones. His lip curls with a warning. One little nip is all it would take to remove a finger. But it's as if you're caught in a trance. You can't seem to stop yourself from reaching up and curling your palms around his scruffy cheeks.

He's stiff. Heated gaze boring into your skull. "I said—" Your thumb rises to stroke the thin skin directly beneath his eye.

And he's quiet.

The muscle there softens. Squishing beneath your touch. Dare you consider it; you reckon his gaze has warmed by a degree or two. A little shinier than before, as if the light of the moon is reflecting off a serene lake.

Hesitant, his head tilts, eyes falling shut as he pushes into your touch.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Yer gonna get hurt," he mutters, but he makes no effort to squirm away, "if I come loose..."

The vicious wolf he's always warned you about is nowhere to be found. No bloodthirsty snarls or vicious snapping of his teeth as you grow near. Hell, the moon is as high as she will go, but he hasn't even fully shifted.

Your thumb ventures down his face, swiping across his bottom lip, past needle-sharp teeth and all. "You seem pretty lucid to me."

"'cause it's still early," his head jerks, afraid of your touch, all of a sudden.

One would think that a werewolf, a cowboy no less, would be pretty decent at understanding how to tell the time based on the positioning of the moon. Alas, you won't be sharing the insight you gained from looking at the time on your cell.

Talking isn't what you're here for, anyway.

No. Instead, your hands on his cheeks are growing firmer, holding him still, and he must have already caught on to what you're doing because his boots slam against the floor. Agitated. Trying to step backward. But his arms are still bound behind his back, and he's still attached to that beam overhead, can only move so much before he hits a dead end.

A snarl tears through the quiet air. He's trapped with nowhere to escape. Those razor-like canines are showing themselves again. A flashy warning that he makes no attempt to fulfill, not moving a muscle as you lean in and tilt his head down, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

The smile spreading across his face reveals the unnatural jaggedness of his molars. If it weren't attached to Rhett, you think you may have run out the door by now. "Did y' come all the way out here for a kiss?"

"You're guilty of it too, cowboy," you've lost count of all the times he's shown up at your door, looking for a little love. A kiss here, a snuggle on the couch there, once, he showed up just to see you smile and hear your voice.

"I know it," the roll of his eyes is the last thing you see before you move in once more, lips finding the corner of his jaw. "I know it..."

Your hands are sliding away from his face, smoothing past his chest, on a one-way track to find those damned buttons on his flannel. It must be your lucky day because it's one of his pearl snap shirts; each and every one of them pops open with the slightest tug.

"'ts a bad time to be feelin' me up, darlin'," Rhett's muttering beneath his breath, but he's stepping forward. Pressing into the caress of your touch, fingers running over the divots of his ribs, up and down the smooth skin of his back. Anywhere and everywhere, all at the same time.

Your mouth pauses against his neck. "Is it?"

For a moment, he's quiet. This close, you reckon you can hear the gears turning in his head, searching for the right words to say. He shifts, bumping himself into your mouth, but it doesn't reward him with another kiss.

You wonder if he's realized that he stomps his foot when he's feeling impatient.

"Not that 'm complainin'," his voice is quieter as if he's afraid to hear the sound of it.

Fortunately, you're in no mood to hold out any further, already beginning to lean in and ghost your lips over a vein, tongue darting out to trace across it. A portion of you is amazed that he's letting you do this, tilting his head to grant you access to his vulnerable throat, humming at your touch. So completely and utterly comfortable, despite the dizzying draw of the moon and the overwhelming helplessness he's placed himself into. Those chains behind his back are far too strong for him to break on his own; he can't defend himself, even if he wants to.

But that's not on your mind at all. No, you're too focused on nipping at his sensitive collarbone, still bruised from your handiwork earlier in the week. Then, down across his chest, broad and thick enough for you to get a greedy handful of as you kiss your way below that cheap, faded tattoo he got when he turned eighteen.

Your tongue darts out to lave across a soft nipple.

"Shit," he sucks in a breath, always so sensitive here, "that...you..."

It's such a simple thing. Swirling your pointed tongue around the bud, feeling the way it hardens within a matter of seconds. You shouldn't be getting anything out of it, and yet, your thighs are squeezing together without a second thought. All the while, your fingers are finding that neglected bud, pinching it between your thumb and index.

Rhett jerks, stumbling backward. "Leave...leave those alone."

"I thought you liked having your nipples played with?" You know the answer to that.

He knows the answer to that.

But that doesn't mean he's going to say it out loud. Not without a few beers buzzing through his veins, warping his filter just enough to let a million and one truths tumble off his pretty tongue.

"Don't say it like—mmh," sucking in his bottom lip, barely stifling that little noise.

You'd linger a little longer if you weren't thinking about something else. Every kiss you press to his skin glistens in the light, shimmering little patches that trail down the soft muscle of his belly, across his belly button. Never ending until his belt rudely intercepts you, obnoxiously large buckle still fastened and shiny as ever.

Without a second thought, you pinch it open, knees settling against the dusty floor.

"Oh my god," Rhett's head lolls backward, neck on full display, "you ain't...you're..." As if your intentions couldn't get any clearer, you find the flip of his zipper, pulling it down. "Shit, y' are."

The only thing between you and what you're after is this damned button. Popping it open takes two seconds and two centuries, all in the same moment. "What did you think I was doing?"

His feet shift, spurs singing their shrill little tune whilst you reach through the gap in his boxers. "I can lose my mind 'n eat ya alive at any given moment," interrupted by a shaky breath as your soft hand wraps around his half-hard length, "'n all y' wanna do is suck my cock."

You've gotten a little too good at guiding him past his confines, out into the cool air of this dingy old barn. It's a shame that you can hardly see him; a portion of you was beginning to wonder if this whole full moon thing would change anything in this department.

"Is that a problem?" Feeling around blindly, your hand slips back through the fabric.

His hips jolt as your fingers brush against his balls, gently drawing them out. They're heavier than you last recall them being, but maybe that's your memory playing tricks upon you. All you know is that Rhett's opening his mouth again, and you've been presented with the perfect opportunity to shut him up.

"Naw, I ain't sayin' that," he whispers. So airy and light that he might be up on a cloud, "'m tryin' to tell—shit."

Your devilish tongue glides up the underside of his balls. Not afraid to let him feel the scrape of your teeth, internally hoping it will translate as some kind of sick reminder of his place. "What was that...?"

"No, no, no," you can't see it, but you know he's shaking his head, "jus'...keep doin' that."

Can't complain with that logic.

A little too excited, your mouth returns to the underside of him, his heavy cock bumping against your temple. It shouldn't do all that much for him, but the feeling of you gently sucking on his balls is all it takes to get him groaning low in his throat. Behind him, the chains clink, biceps straining against them, desperate to paw at the back of your head. Always a little too keen to get you moving on to his cock.

But you're in control here, and right now, you're too focused on moving over to equal out the attention. Carefully sucking on him, tongue soothing the skin when you let him fall free of your mouth. His feet shift, boots impatiently clunking across the floor. Your hand rises, taking hold of his all-too-heavy cock, hard as a rock within a matter of moments.

A drop of precum spills onto the floor, leaving a shiny spot that catches in the light. Almost looks like a tiny star has fallen out of the sky to join in on the fun. A second lands to join, mere inches away from the first.

You're far too stingy to let a third go to waste. Licking up the underside of him, trailing up the thick vein that emerges from his base and not stopping until you reach his tip. Plush and silky soft against your lips, he hasn't gotten an ounce of attention here, and yet he's soaked. There's so much precum gathered here that it looks like you've already taken him into your mouth.

"What's got you so wet, cowboy?" A lopsided grin interrupts your teasing, sprawling across your face before you can realize it.

The corner of his lip wavers up and down, "'y know exactly why."

"No, I don't reckon I do," leaning back on your haunches just as his hips thrust forward, seeking a contact he's no longer receiving.

Rhett's quiet. Always has been a little shy when it comes to telling you exactly what got him going. Those wolfish ears twitch, stubborn teeth sinking into his bottom lip as if his words are going to burst past at any moment. He just needs the slightest push...like leaning forward and opening your mouth, hot breath fanning out against his flushed tip.

Again, his foot stomps. "Fuckin' mean." But then he's lowering his head, long strands of hair cascading into his face. "I..." hesitating, if only for a second, "like when y' go 'n do whatever ya want with me."

You knew what he was fixing to say, but that doesn't mean you're any less excited to hear him voice it. "Yeah?"

Nodding. "Uhuh—oh."

A giggle is all you can manage, mouth too full of his cock to do much else. Heavy and throbbing against your tongue, already so damn excited, and you're not even started. Only just beginning to start sucking on him, cheeks hollowing as you gradually take more of him in. His pretty moan is an encouragement all on its own.

Sucking off a werewolf during a full moon isn't exactly something that has made it onto your bucket list, but oh, is it a dream. Listening to the way his arms strain against his iron restraints, desperate to cling to your head as it begins to bob, slow ups and downs, at your own comfortable pace.

Experimental, you lean back until your tongue can swirl around his sensitive tip.

His thighs squeeze so tight that his knees damn near knock together. "Fuckin—ah!" Even from down here, you can see how his jaw has gone slack, completely and utterly lost in the feeling of your mouth. "Sen...sensitive."

All you can do is hum, amused by the little shiver that ripples up his spine.

It's been a few weeks since you've last felt him on your tongue, but your memory is gradually beginning to come back, hands scurrying off to work. One wraps around the base of his shaft, the past that you can never fit in your mouth, while the other reaches to find his soft balls, still wet from your earlier handiwork.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he's babbling, head rolling back and forth. Restless. "Keep doin' that."

There's already an ache blooming in the corner of your jaw, but you can't help yourself. Not when Rhett's keening high in his throat, panting like a damn dog as you lower your head, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth. His blunt head bumps into the back of your throat. Damn near sends you lurching.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, burning like they're going to start streaming down your face at any moment, but you can't bring yourself to mind it. You're far too preoccupied with getting another one of those noises out of him, sucking hard on your next draw backward.

A crippling whimper breaks through the midnight air. His hips jolt forward by the tiniest fraction.

You might as well have cracked the code to a bank safe.

He's a goner. He knows it. You know it. He knows you know it. Because you keep doing it. Long, slow bobs of your head, the ones that he desperately tries to chase the feeling of. Drool runs past your swollen lips and down your chin, leaving you just as wet and slick as he is, dripping off your skin and speckling across the barn floor.

It's so distracting that you've nearly forgotten about the leather that rests by your right knee. It is not as if you can do anything to put your plan into motion; no, your hands are full. One gently stroking his shaft in synchrony with the rise and fall of your head, the other slowly beginning to roll his balls in your palm. Working him over like you're getting paid to do it.

Rhett's strangled whine catches in his throat. "'m already close."

You don't know if it's a warning or a plea, but the discomfort in your jaw is getting easier to ignore. Cheered on by the shiver that sets into his thighs and the airy noises tumbling out of him, starving for a breath that he can't keep ahold of. Broad chest heaving, still glistening with the trail that led you to your knees.

His foot taps against the floor.

"Baby, baby, baby," chanting like a melody, chased by the sweet cry of your name, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

Humming, you tilt your head to look up at him. Wide eyes meeting with his half-lidded golden ones—the tip of your tongue lifts, dancing across the sensitive underside of him.

That's all it takes.

You feel the twitch of his cock before his raspy wail greets your ears. A shudder wracking up his body. Spine trembling. Hips jerking forward as rope after rope of his cum spills from his overworked cock. Flooding your mouth. The base of his cock swells with every pulse. Too shallow to catch and form a knot, but he's almost there. If you push him a little further in a few minutes, you might get one out of him.

Devilish, you swallow around his softening length, amused by the sudden whimper and backward jerk of his hips. Pulling himself out of your mouth with a nice, wet pop.

Those sweet eyes of his are closed. Blissfully unaware, on his own plane of existence. So far gone that he doesn't seem to notice as you tuck him back into the safety of his jeans. Nor does he rouse at the sound of you grabbing the leather from the floor. Your knees ache as you rise to your feet, the wet spots on the floor looking something akin to a galaxy as you reach for the chains behind his back. The mechanism is simpler than it looks. Just one little pinch and—

"What—what are you doing?" Tripping over his own words. Arms suddenly falling to his sides. Free. "No, no, no, you can't—"

"Do you trust me?" Spoken far too gently for it to be such a sharp interruption.

His lower jaw quivers, mouth parting the slightest bit. You can almost see the gears twisting and turning up in his scrambled head.

Hesitant, he lowers his head with a shallow nod. "'course, but I can hurt..." Falling silent as you lift that thin rope of leather for him to see, held taut between two hands, the silver buckle gleaming in the moonlight. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

A boot thumps against the ground. Nudging himself closer to it. No glimpse of razor-sharp canines. Ears round and human as can be. Not even a sliver of gold in those wide eyes. Whatever control he's found, if you can even call it that, doesn't slip. Even as you loop the leather around his throat, feeding one end through the clasp, buckling it shut.

The snap of the leash clasp on his collar damn near makes your heart stop.

But Rhett hasn't moved, still perfectly in control. If anything, he's more interested in the thin piece of black fabric you're lifting, torn from an old t-shirt he ruined while moving the cattle to the west pasture.

"What're y' doin'?" He mutters as if he's afraid to open his mouth too far, and though you're beginning to cover his eyes, he doesn't make a move to stop you. Remaining still, even as you tie a sloppy bow behind his head.

Your hand finds his cheek, squishing it with your thumb. "Taking you home, sweet boy."

The corner of his lip rises.

With a delicate pull of the leash, he stumbles forward, spurs singing their shrill tune as he clumsily drags his feet. Even with the help of you at his side, he's a mess. Knocking into the barn door. Very nearly trips over your kitchen rug when you get him home. So willing to trust where you take him but not quite equipped to make it graceful.

"Why'd ya cover my eyes, anyhow?" He grumbles, big, sharp ears twisting and turning as he hauls himself through another step.

"You mentioned nearly mauling a cow a couple moons ago," pausing just long enough for you to get him around the corner, into the bedroom, "and I doubt you know how to heel."

"I can, too!" Those unnatural teeth glint in the light. You wonder if he would let you touch them. "'m a werewolf, not a damn stray."

His bare foot knocks into yours as you lead him to the bed, a little more confident now. There's not much for him to run into here. The biggest obstacle is the bed that's hitting the backs of your knees, has you falling backward before you can realize it.

On his own whim, Rhett's thumbing at his belt buckle. Opens it so damn easy that you almost question how it took you so many tries when you first got together. It's no easy task, getting his jeans down his legs, the material clinging to his thighs like a second layer of skin.

Vaguely, you think you catch the silhouette of his cock bouncing, half hard and smacking against his hip. "You took your boxers off, too?"

"Might as well," seeing him naked from the waist down is a bit of a sight, but it's one that doesn't last for long. His flannel hits the floor even quicker than his jeans did. "Ain't gonna need 'em here in a minute."

Coy, you tilt your head. "What makes you think I'm in the mood?" It's only after that you realize he can't see what you just did.

But Rhett's entirely oblivious of your mistake, lips rising with an obnoxious grin, sharp teeth poking through, "can smell it."

Your face feels cold. Blood draining away as if someone has just pulled the plug, spilling out into everywhere but your head. "You can what?"

He's leaning closer. Nose nudging into the side of your cheek, warm breath fanning out and tickling your ear like a feather. "Yer scent gets a lil spice to it," he murmurs, so low that every word rumbles down your spine like thunder, "kinda sweet, too."

His unshaven jaw bumps into yours, long enough to have lost that sandpaper-like texture, nothing but a smooth glide as he blindly guides himself to your ear. He'd nibble at the shell of it, if he weren't worried about accidentally eating you. "Makes me fuckin' dizzy jus' smellin' it," whispering, so damn close that you feel his lips brush against your skin.

Maybe that's the reason why your inhale shakes the way that it does. "So you knew what I was up to when I walked into the barn?"

"Mhm," his humming damn near makes you shiver, "jus' didn't know what kinda fun you were hankerin' for."

Your hand darts behind his head, tugging on the knot of his blindfold until it unravels, falling from his face and landing onto the sheets.

Golden eyes stare back at you, vivid as ever. Except they're soft around the edges. The werewolf might have awoken for the night, but Rhett Abbott never went to sleep. He's still here, with you, crawling into bed the same way he always does. His cheeks fit into your palms the same, squishing beneath your touch as you draw him in.

He kisses the same, too. Humming into it, purring like a pleased little kitten, shifting to brace his weight on one arm, free hand skirting up the side of your shoulder. Fangs graze your bottom lip, a delicate reminder of the power they hold and what they could do if the reigns of control were to slip from his grasp.

But Rhett's never been anything other than gentle. The sharp impression of his teeth is merely there for show, as harmless as the muscles that bulge in his arms, present to protect and never to harm. Because his open arm drifts around your waist as he pushes you backward, cushioning an already soft fall.

Your hands are on the move, one grabbing hold of his meaty bicep, the other drifting across his shoulder, blissfully abandoning the task at hand. His rough mouth parts your lips, a growl sitting so low in his throat that you almost mistake it for distant thunder, rattling the house and you with it. Rhett's warm belly may be pressed against yours, pinning you to the mattress, but it isn't enough to keep you from wondering if you've floated off the bed and begun spinning around the room.

"My shirt," you gasp, breathless, "get it..."

There's no point in finishing your sentence because Rhett's already tugging at the end of it, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head. The bedroom air hadn't felt cold until now. A sharp contrast compared to Rhett and his warm lips that melt with yours fits so perfectly, like your own perfect puzzle piece.

His hips roll forward, rutting into your core, merely held back by the soft fabric of your pants, so thin that he could rip through them if he wanted. But he doesn't seem interested in doing such a thing, simply content to drag his leaking cock against the inside of your thigh, wetting the fabric there.

"C'n I take these off?" He's speaking against your lips, too lazy to pull away any further than he already has.

You're already nodding. "Please."

Now, he's got to draw himself away from you. Leaning back onto his haunches, the muscle of his chest catching in the moonlight that peaks through the window, calloused hands smoothing down the sides of your waist. Your hips lift from the bed just as his fingers curl into your waistband.

That leather leash knocks into your leg as he draws your pants and underwear down all in one go, handle tapping at your knee as if to get your attention. One of your hands are reaching for it before you've even realized it, fingers slipping through the loop. It's just long enough to give him the space to pull your pants past your heels, only pulls tight when he leans back a smidgen further.

"Forgot ya got me collared," Rhett's chuckling, already yielding to the tug of the leash. His lips graze up the side of your ankle, ambling along in no real rush as he makes his way back up your legs. Kissing at the juncture of your knee and up into the inside of your thigh, tongue darting out to sloppily wet the skin there.

Golden eyes flicker up to meet your gaze.

Idle, your unoccupied fingers find their way into his hair, curling and twisting in the messy curls that rest at the back of his neck. The leash pulls, too eager to guide him higher. Wasn't exactly a part of your plan for tonight, but you cannot even begin to deny yourself this simple pleasure.

"Good boy," it's hushed, and it's barely there, but the words tumble off your tongue like any other.

Rhett hears them. You know he has because those dumb, wolfish ears emerge from the darkness. Twisting and turning. Drinking up the tiny noise that chokes out of your throat when he sucks on a patch of skin on your inner thigh, working it over until you're certain that he's left a mark there. Repeats it again a little further up, drifts over to your other thigh, the tip of his nose bumping into you as he guides himself up, up, up.

His breath fans out against your cunt. So hot that it nearly burns.

Your tug on the leash is all the encouragement he needs. Tongue poking past his lips and drawing through your folds, licking a slow, fat stripe up your cunt, groaning to himself like he's just won a grand prize. Even here, you can feel the smooth glide of his teeth, almost a perfect mirror of the silent threat you made to him in the barn.

Big hands settle on either side of your hips, holding you still as he dips down to repeat it once more. "Taste so fuckin' good," grumbling into your pussy, the vibration of his voice dancing around your sensitive clit.

He's already getting comfortable, settling flat on his belly, arms curling around your thighs, hanging onto you like you'll wander away if he doesn't. Leaves you no choice but to clutch the back of his head as his upper lip brushes where you crave him most. The very spot that he's so deliberately ignoring.

"Bastard," hissing. If he'd just go a little higher...

"What?" Artificial innocence drips from his tone, peeking up at you beneath long lashes. He's the very definition of a man who knows what he's doing, with that dumb, wolfish grin sprawling across his face.

Fuck, you can't stand him sometimes.

The leash yanks. Jerking him upward, his mouth helplessly dragged up to the very place he's been avoiding. So caught off guard that he's hardly got time to react, before you're pushing his head back down.

Two can play at this game.

"Impatient," he grunts, but he's not making any move to fight back. Contentedly swirling his tongue around your clit like you've been wanting, only pausing to wrap his thin lips around it.

A spark of heat jumps up your spine, bursting in your head like a lone firework. Makes it so damn hard for you to get your thoughts in order. "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full, cowboy."

Even with his face buried between your legs, it's impossible to miss the way that his eyes roll. Nor can you fail to notice the roll of his hips, chasing the feel of your sheets against his neglected cock, still heavy and weeping.

But you can't pay attention to it for long because a calloused fingertip nudges between your folds. Stroking at your delicate entrance, pressing to feel the way you open up for him. What he finds must have been what he was looking for because the outer corners of his eyes rise with a smile. Your light tug of the leash is enough to keep him moving, that thick finger slipping into you without a second thought.

It's been so damn long that you've nearly forgotten how this feels. The faint burn of taking him dry. How he curls upward, rubbing his blunt fingertip up your walls, rising up, up, up. You know he'll find that sweet little spot, he always does, but that doesn't stop your nerves from winding tight, thighs tensing as he nudges closer and closer to it.

"Fuckin' tight," he muses, drawing right across the nerves of your g-spot for the first time in forever.

Your body jerks, a gasp bursting past your lips. "And who's fault is that?"

"I know," sheepishly pausing to twirl his pointed tongue across your cunt, "'m sorry." Pity rewards you with a second finger, eagerly nudging in alongside the first, finally beginning to stretch you in earnest. Pumping in and out of you to the languid tune of his mouth, a lazy sort of thing that has your thighs clamping down around his head.

"Rhett..." you don't know why you're muttering his name, but he's humming his response, and it's sending a bolt of lightning up your core.

A plume of heat swells between your legs. Familiar. The kind that has your lower belly alight with an excitement you haven't felt since the last time. Spurred on by the rough fingertips that incessantly rub into your walls and the burning tongue that draws sharp figure eights across your spasming clit. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit—

"Stop." Blurting. A little too loud.

Rhett freezes so quickly that his tongue doesn't even dart back into his mouth. So shocked that his ears have returned to their usual human shape. His eyes are the only thing that moves, darting up to scan your face. Whatever expression he's looking for, he doesn't find it.

"Close?" Lifting his head. Stiff.

Weakly, you nod, tugging on his leash with an uneasy hand, "Uhuh."

Those shoulders drop with a heavy sigh, fanning out against your sensitive core as he begins to move. Hands settle on either side of you, bracing his weight as he crawls up your body, the muscle in his biceps flexing with the simple effort, veins rising from his forearms. A sight so mesmerizing that you nearly miss grabbing the lube off the spare pillow.

His hand darts out, reaching to take it, but you're a little quicker, drawing it out of his reach.

"Sit," a simple order, not an ounce of firmness behind it.

Rhett's head tilts to the side, pausing if only for a second, then falls back onto his haunches without a word. Sitting innocently between your legs, watching as you sit up and snap the cap open. The lube spills out a little too quickly, flooding your palm and dripping between the crevices of your fingers.

"Shit," his eyelashes flutter as your hand wraps around his heavy cock, lazily spreading the sticky fluid across him. There's so much of it. Squelching with the motion of your strokes, the excess running down into the neatly groomed hair at his base and beyond. "Think ya got enough on me?"

"Aren't you usually heckling me for using too little?" Fighting the urge to laugh, slick hand reaching between your own legs. The nudge of your own two fingers isn't what you're craving in the slightest; too small and thin as compared to Rhett's, but they work just fine when it comes to spreading some more of the lube.

"'cause I don't wanna hurt ya," the corner of his lip quirks up. Smug. One of the many downsides of dating a man who's hung like a damn horse and knows it.

But there are a number of upsides that come with the territory, too. Wrapping his hand around himself makes him seem that much bigger. Thick in his hand, so heavy that it can't stand upright without some help. Falling onto your back does nothing to help it, and even as he shifts forward, blunt tip nudging at your inner thigh, you can't help but wonder how you take him every time.

Nor do you know how you plan to take the knot that subtly swells at his base, still inflamed from your handiwork in the barn.

His cock head nudges against your folds, experimentally rutting between them. Has the air hitching in your throat and your hand unintentionally yanking on his leash.

"Alright, alright," mumbling to himself through a laugh, "impatient."

A familiar pressure blooms before you realize what he's talking about. The careful nudge of his dick at your entrance, gradually stretching you around his mushroom tip. And maybe the full moon really does affect his size because you don't recall it ever aching quite like this. A subtle burn rising, even with the lube, has you holding your breath as he opens you wider and wider.

"Relax, doll," he's coaxing, in that quiet voice of his hands rising to glide up your sides, "can feel y' clenchin' 'round me."

Easier said than done. But his touch is distracting enough to let a puff of air burst past your lips, lungs burning for a fresh intake of oxygen, chest rising and falling in perfect tune with Rhett's. With it goes the tension in your thighs, falling slack against the bed, drawn out even further as his tip drags against the sweet bundle of nerves inside of you. Little sparks bolt through your nerves, bursting up in your head and behind your eyelids.

The leash tugs again, but this time, it isn't an impatient correction. No, you're trying to draw him closer, helplessly beckoning him to settle down onto his forearms. And he does just that. Warm body coming to rest against yours, so close that his jaw bumps into yours.

"'s this where ya want me?" He whispers, rubbing your noses together just for the sake of doing it. Always has to be stealing some kind of affection, even when his cock is sinking into you, inch by devastating inch, stretching you so wide that your thighs tremble from it.

You can't formulate a response; the words in your head have broken into fragments. Maybe you'd be able to gather them up if not for the delicious sensation of him bottoming out. Not another inch to take of him, his hips flush with your body. It's a damn surprise that you haven't cracked in half, so full that your lungs feel like they've shrunk by two sizes.

"You can..." you're already too winded to get your words out, "you can move."

Rhett doesn't budge. Eyes closed, seemingly off in his own little world, content with the sensation of your warm cunt, wrapped around him. But you didn't go through all this trouble just to skip out on all the fun now.

You give the leash an experimental tug. Jerking him by the slightest fraction.

A growl bursts from his throat. So loud that the room seems to shake with it. Gone as quickly as it arrived, replaced with an awkwardly quiet air, wide blue eyes blinking back at you. As if you were the one who made the noise and not him.

"Move," repeating yourself, and if he notices the wobble in the firmness of your tone, he doesn't acknowledge it.

Obedient, his hips draw backward, and you immediately know you're in trouble. Even for such a shallow movement, he's dragging deliciously against every little nerve within your walls, the soft swell of his base catching on your entrance as he eases back inside. It's the second thrust that knocks the air from your chest, puffing past your lips as he bottoms out, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

"That," blurting, before he can even begin to lose his angle, "keep doing that."

"'s that the spot?" Rhett grins, fangs and all. As if he can't feel the way you involuntarily flutter around him when he passes over it again.

Your lube-slick hand tangles into his hair. There's not a doubt in your mind that it's going to leave it matted and sticky once it dries, but that's alright. You're both gonna need a bath once this is all said and done.

He's finding his pace, rising higher up onto his forearms, properly hovering above you. The kind of shift that has his balls smacking into your ass, the heaviness of his body rocking yours against the bed. Your mattress squeaks with every heavy movement, but it's barely audible over the wet squelch of his cock disappearing into you and the grunts that rumble out of him.

He's feeling it as much as you are, eyes squeezing shut, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, canines threatening to puncture the thin skin there. Even as he draws back to settle on his haunches, you can hear him. Unusually noisy, those low noises bubbling into something louder, traveling on the coattails of his breath.

Your thighs rise to squeeze around his waist, pulling him in a little harder now, "you're getting loud, cowboy."

"Fuckin' sensitive," his hair bounces into his face, forces him to run one of those big hands through it, "still haven't—oh fuck."

Your cunt is spasming around him. Clenching and unclenching as his plush tip kisses those sweet little nerves over and over and over. Your unoccupied hand can't stay still. Grasping at the edge of the pillow, squeezing a fistful of the sheets, flailing around at your side like a fish out of water. Anything to keep yourself grounded.

"God," squeezing his eyes shut, hardly stifling a moan, "y' feel so fuckin' good."

The sight above you is enough to make you dizzy. Rhett and his messy curls, sweat beading on his forehead, and the veins along his arms have long since begun to show themselves. Muscles flexing with every heavy thrust, his thick cock disappearing between your parted legs, stretching you obscenely wide.

Fuck, you can't believe this cowboy is real.

He's reaching beneath one of your shivering knees, fingers sprawling around the underside of it and pushing it up toward your belly. "Ain't ever stayin' away for that long again."

And you don't ever want him to, either. This bed and this house have been far too quiet without him; your toys haven't seen this much of you since before the two of you met. But he's here now, black collar looped around his flushed neck, leash bouncing with the movement of his body, and you don't have any intention of cutting him loose.

"Yer thighs are shakin' so much," he says it like he's not trembling himself, weak hand struggling to keep hold of your leg, the two of you wavering like leaves in the autumn breeze. "'s it feel that good, sweetheart?"

If he keeps talking, you're going to combust.

The leash nearly slips out of your sweaty hand when you tug on it. Couldn't have been much of a pull at all, but it works a growl out of Rhett's throat, golden eyes twinkling as he lets you reel him back in. A little too eager to get close to you again, chests pressing against each other, mouths meeting for a kiss, so sloppy that it hardly counts as one. Lips bumping together, unable to do anything but that.

"Good boy," it slips off your tongue without thinking.

The phrase has never really crossed your vocabulary until tonight, but something about the collar and the distracting massage of his cock has you throwing all rationality out the window. There's only one way to find out if he likes the phrase or not. MIght as well learn on the one night when he's fully capable of swallowing you whole.

"Again."

You almost don't believe what you just heard.

But Rhett's nuzzling his nose against your cheek, suddenly losing his rhythm. "Call me that again."

Fire ignites in your core. Spreading until it feels as if your entire body has been plunged into a pot of boiling water. Fuck, if he keeps—if he just keeps doing that. "Good boy," repeating yourself, dissolving into a mewl.

His whole body jerks. Set off like a damn firecracker. Head dropping low, keening high in his throat, too weak to hold it back anymore. If he had a tail, you have no doubt that it would be wagging back and forth, a little too eager to hear your praise.

Impatient, your hand dips between your bodies, the pads of your fingers pressing against your clit. Sparks volt through your nerves. Has your heart lurching and hammering in your heaving chest. You're already close.

"Want you to knot me," admitting your plan is easier than it should have been, falling off your drooling tongue without a shred of fear. "Can you do that?"

Now you've got his attention, snapping up to look at you. Mouth open. Eyes wide, clear for the briefest of moments. But then his cock head hits your g-spot head on, and it's got you clenching around him like a fucking vice. You're both gone. Fear of getting hurt be damned. Neither of you can think of anything except for this, this, this.

Then you hear it. The faintest "uhuh" you've ever heard.

But it's there.

"Such a good boy for me," you might be babbling, but you don't care. Rhett's whimper is just as loud as yours, dancing together in the bedroom air, and that's all that matters. "so good, Rhett."

The base of his cock is swelling. Growing taut with a knot that catches on your rim, forcing those long strokes to devolve into short, fragile little motions. His voice is getting pitcher, whispering nonsense that sounds like your name, the curve of his nose pressing into the underside of your jaw.

Until all of a sudden, his hips are slamming into yours, and he's cumming in you with a pitiful cry. Knot swelling into a bulb, locking your exhausted bodies together as his cum finally, finally spills into you, flooding your helpless pussy with rope after rope of white. And all he can do is collapse on top of you, his head buried into the gap of your neck.

You're so full of him. Nowhere for his cum to escape, even whilst his hips involuntarily twitch forward, jostling the mess he's made inside of you. And it's all just making your fingers work a little faster, rubbing over your clit over and over, spasming impossibly tight around his overworked cock.

"Cum 'round me," Rhett's begging, his voice shaky can be. "Please."

And you do.

Back jerking up off the mattress, spots dancing across your vision, cumming around his cock without a shred of warning. Your pussy clamping down around his knot, fingers stalling over your clit. A strangled cry cuts through the air. You haven't the slightest clue if it's coming from you or Rhett, but you can't bring yourself to care. Too lost in the spinning of the room and the clouds fogging your mind to even try to comprehend what you're hearing.

For once, the room is quiet—nothing but two labored breaths, so heavy that the wind howling outside ought to be jealous.

Rhett's eyelashes tickle your neck with every blink, the only sign you've got that he's still alive, "Think ya almost killed me."

"You're one to talk," you have to crane your neck to get a better look at him, contentedly snuggled against you, eyes blue as can be. Not a shred of werewolf left in him, too tuckered out to show its face any longer.

"Careful," it's the start of the emptiest threat you've ever heard, "the moons still high."

The pillow has a higher chance of killing you than he does.

"You haven't eaten me so far," teasing, letting your fingers dart down his naked spine. He shivers, jerking up onto his forearms all of a sudden.

His knot is already beginning to go down, makes it easy for him to draw his hips backward. Pressure builds for the briefest of moments, and with a soft 'pop,' he slips out of you entirely. Like a damn has burst, his cum begins to spill from your abused cunt, running down your skin and staining the comforter below.

You really should get up and throw the sheets in the washer before anything can begin to dry, or worse, leave behind an impossible-to-remove stain. But you're too focused on Rhett, rolling over onto his back, sweaty chest heaving. The kind of thing that you cant resist from reaching out and touching, your palm sliding along his warm stomach, feeling the way it rises and falls in tune with his chest.

"Are you rubbin' my belly like 'm a dog?" He asks, through that lazy smile, all half-lidded eyes and sleepy muscle. Even now, you can't bring yourself to believe that there's a single vicious bone in his body, big and strong as it may be.

"Should I stop?" You suppose you already know the answer to your question; he'd be kicking up a bigger fuss if he didn't like it.

His head shakes, and even that looks like too tremendous of a task for him. "No, no, I ain't sayin' that."

Instead, his hand rises to cover yours, following along as you rub up and down, gradually working your way higher and higher, from his belly button to that proud bull tattoo. A quiet growl rolls out of his chest when your thumb dares to swipe over one of his nipples, the closest thing he can get to purring.

But you're not done roaming. Wandering even further up, across his sweaty neck and up to his scruffy cheek. It's been far too long since the last time you've gotten to do this. Feeling the soft drag of his stubble under your touch, the way that he dares to twist his head and nip at your palm when it ventures close to his mouth. Every gentle bite is soothed with a kiss, peppering across your wrist and fingers.

"I suppose I should take that collar off of you," musing mostly to yourself. The leather still rests around his neck, no doubt sticking uncomfortably to his clammy skin, the leash still hanging from the loop.

"Wanna keep it on," stubborn to the very end, his foot kicking out, as if that can possibly add fuel to his argument, "jus' a little longer."

Your fingers drip down, tracing the redness that's long since appeared, his skin rubbed raw and no doubt sore from the collar. "It's chafing your neck." A part of you supposes its your fault, for not buying one meant to be worn on skin.

"But I like it," that bottom lip pokes out the slightest bit, pouting in the only way he knows how, "feels nice."

"It's gonna have to come off eventually," at the very least, you can unclasp the leash, tossing it off the edge of the bed with a surprisingly loud clatter. "We're both gonna need a shower here soon."

His head tilts, brows raised. "Who says?"

"Me," fighting back a smile. Whether or not you're doing a good job at it is anyone's guess.

"Nope." Rhett's defiantly shaking his head, as if that can possibly change the fact that the sheets and your inner thighs are stained with his cum, the kind of mess that absolutely requires a shower. "No, you don't."

All of a sudden, he's moving, rolling back on top of you before you can even begin to comprehend what he's up to. You're pinned like a damn note under a tack; try as you might, you can't get all one-hundred-something pounds of him to even budge. Practically trapped here on the bed, forced to endure his giggles and the nuzzle of his cold nose, burying its way back into the crook of your neck.

"You're not gonna move, are you?" Why do you keep asking questions that you already know the answer to?

"Nope," Rhett's pressing a kiss to a vein in your neck, like it will do anything to make this easier for you," the shower can wait a lil longer."

Admitting defeat has never been sweeter. You'd really love to climb into the shower and stand beneath the warm water with him, taking turns scrubbing each other down and rinsing the soap from his hair, but you don't mind this. Arms looping around his broad shoulders, hugging him close like some big, oversized teddy bear.

In the back of your mind, a tiny light kicks on. "Will you agree to move if I promise to get you a softer collar?"

"They make those?" His voice is muffled by your neck, words tickling as they vibrate through you.

Humming, you tap your fingers against the solid bone of his shoulder. "You can even pick out the color."

"Well, why didn't ya mention that before?"He's up on his haunches in the blink of an eye. Grinning from ear to ear, he reaches for your hands, giving them a tug, urging you to sit up. "C'mon!"

The sheets.

You need to get the sheets off the bed, but you've got no choice. Rhett's got a hold of you, and he's not letting go. Laughing, kicking up the biggest fuss he can possibly manage, eyes shimmering with pools of gold as he pulls you up onto your feet. Uncaring of the mess that is being left behind, too busy herding you in the direction of the bathroom.

The water is already running when you realize you've forgotten to grab clothes, arriving in the form of an offhanded thought whilst you were watching Rhett test the temperature with his foot. But he's beating you to that, too, eagerly darting off into the hallway like an oversized puppy. Doesn't even bother to wipe the water off his foot, leaving behind a trail of water droplets that shimmer in the light.

They kind of look like the stars you left on the barn floor. Twinkling little galaxies, just waiting to be discovered.

"Watcha lookin' at?" Rhett's already rounded the corner again, tossing those offhandedly chosen clothes in the direction of the sink. Whether or not he remembered to grab underwear is anyone's guess.

Your shoulders rise and fall with a shrug, "just a mess on the floor."

He'll help you make a bigger one after you two step out of the shower.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #werewolf au #werewolf rhett abbott #oneshot

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profounddefendorcrusade-blog · 8 months ago

Text

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

#Like idk if I'm being biased because Star is my favorite character but I kinda just started thinking more and more about this and... yeesh.#Felt like a BIT of an overreaction to blame Starlo this much #No wonder he cracked #and unlike with Ceroba we actually see him do his very best to “fix” what he did “wrong”#i feel so much sympathy for this guy man #WAY more than for Ceroba #sorry fox lady #uty #undertale yellow #starlo uty #uty starlo #like dude literally had to come crawling on his hands and knees for them to forgive him #what “loyal” “supportive” friends they all are #sobbing for star #poor poor man #meanwhile everyone forgave ceroba for much much MUCH worse #she didn't need to burst into tears and beg for forgiveness even though she SHOULD have #everyone forgives her immediately on the spot + she gets a hug from clover #I'm sorry Starlo #like how was he “selfish” and “reckless”#he did something for himself for the 1st time in his life #y'all are reckless too btw #you put yourself first ONCE and they call you selfish #Star had the right to be mad at them for attacking Clover for no reason other than jealousy #wdym he's throwing you around for human business you literally wanted this #he watched the tapes more than 50 times bc that's how much he hates himself #and yet he's still been doing EVERYTHING in his power to be there for EVERYBODY

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overtaken-stream · 10 months ago

Note

This is just a random idea, not very likely to happen but with all the King having a little daughter asks I got "ideas". Honestly imagine reader finding out she's pregnant and no matter how much she loves king, in the end if he were to find out she's pregnant with him that means the chances of her exploring the world are 0%, since it's most likely King will keep them somewhere near him in Wano.

After finding out about pregnancy, let's say the reader used her "position" aka people seeing her often with King and realizing what they were to get aboard the ship. I don't think the chances are high because I do believe that someone would inform King about your whereabouts and he would fly to get you lol

With the slim chance you made it out of the Wano somehow, years have passed and you have given birth to a daughter who looks exactly like her dad, including his lunarian traits, the reader has no choice but to shield her daughter from the world and cover he true identity.

I believe that eventually this would bring attention to Big Mom pirates, who ended up taking you alongside your daughter. Big Mom bears no interest in reader, only her half lunarian daughter but the little girl protests so much when they threaten to separate her from her that Big Mom ends up marrying you off to one of her children just to keep the little girl quiet. Big Mom does plan on ending you once the daughter is independent.

Now, news travel fast around and once King is informed about Big Mom missing only 2 races instead of 3, he really isn't aware its his child.

Somehow I believe that Big Mom still asked King to join her crew but added the part about how "A father shouldn't leave his daughter alone." I won't elaborate much on his reaction, I love angst and the idea that King gained something finally and it got taken away from him breaks me. + The little girl holding onto Katakuri's pants (just an example for our "husband") and she calls Katakuri papa and is confused what does a man looking like her want from her (King)

Can't have him being happy, all the favourite characters have to suffer <3

Omg, the angst and drama.

The chances of the reader escaping Kaido's hold are very very slim, but let me add an alternate ending to this.

Imagine that The Beast Pirates, mainly King, placed an underground bounty on her (unaware of the pregnancy). The very act of escaping brought numerous obstacles and bounty hunters that were nearly impossible to evade. Surviving under these circumstances must have been incredibly challenging for any pregnant woman, but the reader's experience was the sole reason she managed to stay alive for 10 months. When the reader deemed an island safe, she gave birth on some island in the New World. This situation strongly reminds me of Rouge D. Portgas – a mother doing whatever it takes to protect her child.

That was until one of Big Mom's Officers showed up (probably one who was after Reader's bounty), In her weakened state, she fell prisoner to them. After discovering the newborn, the circumstances became complicated once the officer informed their mother. Big Mom uncovered the baby, who, mind you, would cry hysterically every time somebody who wasn't reader touched her. She deemed the child important, but not Reader. However, Big Mom was forced to comply and let her stay for the baby's sake. To be honest, she would NEVER waste her son Katakuri's talents and race on a normal human. Her main goal is to get the daughter on her side as soon as possible, be it through manipulation, threats to the reader's safety, brainwashing, or using just her biological mother as a weak point."

In any case, she would end up with Reader's daughter completely under her control and Reader getting handed over to the Beast Pirates (If they manage to survive the Straw Hats ofc + Big Mom probably fed lies to the daughter to convince her to let the Reader go) with King having no knowledge of his family, Reader will end up telling him at some point for her daughter's safety and the rest is history.

#one piece #anime #king one piece #king the wildfire #one piece x reader #king the conflagration #king the wildfire x reader #.my headcanon.#.my writing.#one piece spoilers

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sludgewolf · 2 months ago

Text

Soren Relationship/General Hcs

Disclaimer: do not copy, repost, take or feed to AI or NFTs anything I post

Masterlist

You fell first but he fell harder kind of deal

post Battle of Storm Spire tho, before that he had negative rizz

seeing him grow from under his father opressive gaze into the crownguard you got to know, it was hard to not fall for him

Though he's still the little camp boy the castle has always known, he sings and hums camp songs to you all the time

he's still a dork at heart, making puns at any oportunity, trying to draw a laugh from anyone around

Soren takes great pride on Ez trusting him with being the crownguard, basically trusting him with his life

on top of that he tries the hardest to keep the royal brothers' inner children alive, in spite of everything that has happened in these past few years

Viren pressured Soren to grow up fasters, of course it didn't work like he wanted to, but the pressure still weights down on him and Soren refuses to see it happen to Ezran and Callum

especially with Ezran, who had the weight of the whole kingdom thrusted on his shoulders at such a young age and Soren refuses to let them suffer through it alone

so yes, despite anything you say Soren still spoils the shit out of the kid, even sneaking behind your back for him sometimes

but it's mostly harmless, many times ending with some fun little adventure around the castle

Mr Crownguard still wears his pajamas under his armor, claiming that it's the best idea ever

you judge him hard but you know that it won't stop him anyways

you manage to make him agree to change pajamas everytime he uses it outside

After the Battle of Storm Spire Soren and Amaya grew close, bonding over their dutties and exchanging battle strategies like pokemon cards

they ended up growing really close, with Amaya treating him as another nephew and trusting him with taking over things at Katolis

that's why he was heartbroken when you couldn't attend her wedding due to his deadbeat dad coming back to fuck everything up

thankfully he had you by his side, or he wouldnt be able to handle everything that happened that night

Loved dragons when he was a little kid, after everything he still keeps his dragon plushie on the bed while not using it

on the first oportunity he showed it to Zubeia and Zym

Many of your dates end up being third wheeled by Hat since none of you have the heart to say no to the little guy

As anyone who knows Soren can attest, he loves to exercise to keep in shape

laps up and down the tallest tower every morning are a must do for him

Soren always asks you to join him in his workouts, even if it's just for you to sit on his back and count as he does push ups

will run up to you and easily lift you up in a hug everytime he sees you to show affection

you were surprised by his strengh at the start, he claims it's due to his ridgid workout rotine but it's actually due to the spell used on him when he was a small child

Viren's so called perfect spell thankfully seems to not have negative effects other than maybe him eating way more than humanly possible

and after Claudia's healing spell his healing and strength get even greater, almost clearly supernatural but Soren would be the last person to notice that

and you're not going to be the one to tell him that, knowing him it would only make him even more reckless

jumping off in front of danger in order to protect others with little regard for his own safety, especially if that someone is you

then he'd fight a dragon again just to protect you

Sor-bear ironically used to be scared of bears as a little kid, his mom had to stop telling the story of Goldy Locks to the siblings due to that

To this day Soren still has nightmares from when he stabbed Viren and seeing Claudia's reaction to it, even if it was an illusion it still haunts him

before you were a thing he'd struggle to fall asleep, usually prefering to exercise to the point he'd drag himself to the nearest surface and passout from exaustion

now with you he likes being the big spoon, your smell and touch calming his nerves enough for him to fall asleep

Through the night Soren holds you thight and close to his chest, almost as if he's scared that like his family you'll vanish too

If you liked this pls reblog and comment so I know to write more like it

#the dragon prince #the mystery of aaravos #soren tdp #tdp hcs #tdp soren x reader

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insipid-drivel · 5 months ago

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Please wear your damned sun screen. I'm echoing OP's calls for summer outdoor safety here, and hope they won't be offended if I expand a bit on who's even more vulnerable to UV radiation, how it works, and also give a general breakdown of what radiation even is, since younger folks these days haven't even heard of shit like Chernobyl or Three Mile Island, PA (aka: ALMOST FUCKING CHERNOBYL BUT ON THE EAST COAST OF THE US), and so don't really understand how dangerous many different kinds of radiation are.

I'm gonna start with a personal anecdote that is 100% true, and seriously bitch-slapped me into being way, way more careful about extreme heat and sun exposure.

I lived for over a year in Sydney, Australia. A lot of you younger users may not have been taught about this, but up until VERY recently, one of our biggest Climate Change concerns that was actively fucking up the environment was called The Hole In The Ozone Layer. We called it that, because that's what it fucking was. A gigantic hole caused by garbage polluting the air like propellants, methane, and other crap from aerosol cans of hairspray and air fresheners and when it was cool that Times Square had a motorized Marlboro Man billboard that actually smoked real smoke out of its mouth 24/7 for decades.

Our planet is protected from our sun's radiation courtesy of multiple invisible layers in our sky: Ozone (an inorganic gas created by the UV rays from the sun colliding with electricity in our atmosphere's ions), Atmosphere, Stratosphere, and Ionosphere. The Atmosphere, Stratosphere, and Ionosphere are the big "OOOF" moments you see in movies featuring space flight take off from Earth or a similar planet. Those 3 layers alone are so protective to our planet that it's the reason it's so hard to travel to and from space safely: a space ship or rocket has to be able to stand up to the same levels of abuse as a meteor that doesn't break apart. THAT is how much protection our planet provides us from the vacuum of space and the barrages of radiation that come from the sun, as well as our natural magnetic field, AND THE OZONE LAYER. If even one of those layers fails somehow? Earth automatically becomes only hospitable to extremophile microorganisms like water bears, because the giant hole in the ozone layer alone going away literally causes you to feel the sun's radiation burning you alive.

This is where my stint in Sydney comes in. As some of my longer-term followers and mutuals may remember, I was part of a webcomic duo ("Two Kings" discontinued, "Galdranorn and the Fury" completed) where I wrote and my former partner did the painting and illustrating. I lived with him and his roommate for work and to support him while he struggled through getting approval for his gender-affirming HRT and surgeries. He never paid me a dime from what our supporters donated and subscribed for and spent it all on opioids (which he used me and our roommate to acquire, too) while banning me from writing with anyone but him. He sucked, but I still found things about Australia to both love, and fear.

The thing about Sydney is that... the hole in the Ozone Layer is still there. After several generations, we humans have done an amazing job of correcting our aerosol usage with regards to ozone, and over the past number of decades, the hole has been closing up again and "healing". The only major spot where large populations of humans live happens to be over Australia.

The sun hurts in Australia. I've been around the world in the Northern Hemisphere, but never once did I step out of the airport, into a beam of sunlight, and instantly recoil from pain. I honestly first thought a bug had stung me, but it was the fucking SUNLIGHT.

It was later explained to me that, due to the lack of ozone over Sydney, you are LEGALLY REQUIRED to wear sunscreen and a brimmed hat in summer if you go outside, even when it's cloudy and overcast, because the UV radiation in summer in Australia can be so intense that you will get sunburns on a cloudy day. Parents who refuse to properly sunscreen and dress their kids before letting them go out to play or go to school are brought up on child negligence charges and fined heavily.

That is how seriously they take UV radiation in Australia. Ozone is literally what makes our sky blue (along with refraction from the sun's rays off our oceans and seas), and is an inorganic molecule that's generated by the sun's UV radiation (or any UV radiation source) acting upon the electrical activity in the ions in our planet's atmosphere. While very, very tiny amounts of ozone in a limited space can kill most organic life, dense amounts of ozone higher up in our atmosphere literally forms a shield against the sun's UV rays contacting your face or bare buttcrack. You may have actually smelled ozone before if you've ever been in the vicinity of a lightning strike or thunderstorm; it smells chemical-y, and almost like chlorine.

While I lived in Sydney, my lily-white, Northern-Hemisphere-heralding ass would start to burn within minutes of going outside without sunscreen or protective clothing on. I could literally feel my skin cooking with every passing minute I spent in direct sunlight, and the radiation itself caused me to develop severe heat rashes that required medical attention. The UV rays and heat was so bad my joints would swell up to the point I couldn't bend my thumbs, and the pores on my hands and arms became blocked and infected from the sheer amount of sweating I was doing as I was being burned. I would only get better inside, in air conditioning, and soaking my hands and arms in cool water.

When I went to the doctor about my weird rashes and joint inflammation, she picked up on my distinct American accent, and had to explain to me that I was likely experiencing mild radiation burns. They weren't just burns from heat and friction. The sun was poisoning me. She gave me some medication to treat the burning and inflammation, and warned me to never, ever set foot outdoors without sunblock of at least SPF40 or protective clothing again. Especially because I have a lot of moles and beauty marks.

See, the shitty thing about cancer is that it's so lethal while being so infuriatingly, stupidly simple in its logic as a disease. One day, cells can just decide to make more cells. I was seriously taken aback when my doctor in Sydney pointed out my moles, which are legitimately everywhere (I literally have fully-formed constellations on my body; Orion's Belt is on my left forearm). Moles are already abnormal deposits of melanin and tissue, and so they can be especially vulnerable to going rogue and turning cancerous under UV radiation. Back then, when I thought of melanoma, I just imagined a person tanning enough that they woke up with a weird mole - not that an existing one could become dangerous under UV radiation.

Radiation in general is really terrible for organic life - not just humans. For us, when we're exposed to known cancer-causing radiation, our bodies respond to the presence of the radioactive energy and treat radiation like it's free calcium, and enthusiastically absorbs it into your body with no understanding that it is highly dangerous. Radiation most often accrues in bone first, and that's why it can take years sometimes for cancers to manifest, with blood, bone, and metabolic cancers being some of the most common. Modern medicine actually has a limit for how much radiation of any kind a human being can be exposed to within a year before they'll experience radiation poisoning and/or develop cancers, which is why doctors nowadays are so sparing and very "get everything looked at and tested for at once": Too many medical scans in a single year can give people cancers.

Now, think about that. How many times a year do you go in for an X-Ray? Maybe a few times in your entire life, if you're lucky?

Now imagine you willingly stepped into X-Rays on a daily basis, and when the imaging technician offers you a lead apron (lead being one of the very few elements that effectively insulates against radiation), you chose to take more clothing OFF. You're spending hours getting x-rayed. Your imaging techs are very confused, but they really, really want you to put the lead apron on.

Would you think someone behaving like that was being stupid and reckless with their health? Bathing in radiation for fun, every day, for hours?

That's what a lot of Australians think about Americans, and are not shy to tell you about that if you mention it.

That's you and sunscreen. The sun is the X-Ray machine, the UV is the radiation itself, and the sunscreen is your anti-cancer lotion, and your doctor handling your cancer is thinking like an Australian: "Why didn't you just wear the apron?"

Please wear sunscreen. As a 90's kid, I went through the Ozone Crisis, Y2K, Bill Clinton, and Woodstock 19motherfucking99 so you wouldn't have to. Let not mine kinfolks' sufferings have been in vain, O young ones.

Hello everybody with summer fast approaching here is your regular reminder that:

Everyone needs to wear sunscreen

SPF 50 is pretty much the best protection you can get, an SPF higher than that will have the same effect

Melanin does not protect you from skin cancer

Tanning is caused by exposure to ultraviolet radiation

Spending the majority of your life receiving regular large doses of UV radiation without any skin protection is a good way to get skin cancer

Don't use tanning beds, and don't go sun tanning

Wear your fucking sunscreen

#long post #sunscreen #ozone layer #ozone hole #australia #climate change #cancer #90s kid #nostalgia #but not the fun kind #melanoma #skin cancer

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beadyeyes · 2 years ago

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Self portraitas from the week .

#He won't take off the safety bear hat.#drawing

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stargazerdaisy · 3 years ago

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Ashley gets pregnant, thus completing the training officers accidental-pregnancy hat-trick for Alexi Hawley. The “Power To Decide” org holds Tim up as a poster boy for first-time fathers of a slightly older age. Huzzah and you’re welcome! 😈

(Before I even START to respond to this, bear in mind two important points. 1) I know exactly who sent this, they just wanted to stay anonymous publicly, so when I am joking around, I am doing it with a friend, not a random stranger. 2) This is purely fun, crazy, headcanoning, not ANY expectation of or barely any relation to the actual show. Just crazy daydreaming, so take it will a whole heaping pile of salt and tongues in cheeks and all that nonsense.) You ridiculous creature, I love you and your totally insane ideas. HA! I hadn't even really connected the T.O.s have been the ones getting pregnant. But SURE let's go for the hat trick. Tim should knock up Lucy but you don't want us to have nice things. I mean, can you even imagine how much Control Freak Timberly Bradford will absolutely lose his mind over an unexpected pregnancy with a girlfriend he's not ready to wholly to commit to?? The freaking MELT DOWN, while steadfastly thinking he is NOT melting down. Entertainment of the highest order. First, he's probably gonna yell at Lucy at least a bit, because we all know he likes to take his feelings out on her. But I think they've progressed enough where he doesn't do that nearly as much and also she doesn't let him get away with it either. She'd call him right out on it and then help him actually work through all his feelings. Second, Tim is going to be the Baby Gear Expert. Try and fite me on this. I could see him really keeping some distance from the ~medical~ side of things (especially with his and Ashley's not-super-deep-yet relationship), but when it comes to strollers and diaper bags and carriers? He's going to have researched it all, probably listening to podcasts and watching videos, reading all the manuals is too much. And holy crap, don't even get him started on Car Seat Safety. He's insufferable. Angela tells him to shut up about 7 times a day because he's an Ordeal™. But if he knows everything ahead of time, if he plans and designs and arranges it all, then surely it will go smoothly, and there won't be much chaos to manage. Hahahaha, oh sweet summer child. Third, HE'S NOT OLD, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. He's at a perfectly acceptable age to have a first baby, so you can kindly shut your mouth, Nolan. He doesn't even look 39, and if he does, it's distinguished and ruggedly handsome. And clearly he's going to stay in shape foever, so absolutely knock off all the teasing Lucy-Angela-Harper-Thorsen-Wesley-Smitty-Grey-wait-not-you-sir-I-didn't-mean-sorry-sir.

#ask daisy #eris the anon #the rookie au #JUST A GOOFBALL HEADCANON I FREAKING SWEAR #poor timberly #he's going to be such a mess #but he's going to be THERE #and trying so hard #and it's adorable and wonderful #(eta: added the new tag for this specific anon)

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addytheheartbreaker · 5 years ago

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"Meet Bezai the Egg"

Name: Bezai Lebedev Cawthorn

Age: 26

Height: 5'9 ft

Weight: 60 kg

Mask singer belong to: Johnny Weir

Friends with: Doll, Dog, Rabbit, Ice Cream, Leopard, Poodle, Lion, Penguin, Bee, Eagle, Alien, Skeleton, Peacock, Ladybug, Purple Peacock.

Appearance: pale white slick side hair, white with gold rings eyes, gold eye-shadow, cheek bones, small beard, white painted nails with gray crack design and a slim but athletic body (figure skating body type).

Clothing style: his fashion design clothing, coats (mainly Russian, Japanese 30's - 50's coat style), fur coats, his egg sunhat, LOTS of bling and jewelly, eccentric or formal suits (Main clothing). Dresses (to his fashion design or Johnny's fashion design), figure skating suits and Johnny's fashion clothing (for formal, party and broadcast occasions).

Fun facts about Bezai:

•the eccentric, narcissistic, flamboyant, stylish and "all eyes on me" Egg man.

•Egg is born a American, Russian and French (his father is American-Russian while his grandfather is French) and he is Japanese ancestry from his mother's side.

•Bezai can speak Russian and French when he was just a child, he taught himself to learn russian then started understanding Japanese when he was 14. He also learned Japanese too when he was 16.

•He is an ally and one of the iconic people of LGBTQ with Leon and Victoria. His sexuality is gay. He is still single.

•Egg is a anime lover since in his early teens. He is a fan of Yuri on Ice and old anime style times. Him and Johnny talk about it on different times.

•Bezai had been keeping his sexuality a secret from public and from Johnny. Johnny has suspected from his behavior after he had found out he had suffered on keeping his sexuality a secret as Johnny was the first person to convinced him to come out and supported him since and today.

•the reason why kept his sexuality a secret is because he had been bullied since childhood.

•as a child, Egg is isolated and trying to fit in to many children and at school. He is an excellent and a honoured student which envied by many students as most boys bullied him. He is also been verbally harassed by boys by calling him homophonic names which is the reason on keeping his sexuality.

•hr started skating in age 15, he is a huge fan of Johnny Weir's skating performance leading him into interesting in skating and fashion.

•he is an egg lover who always eats and cooks egg related dishes. He is an excellent cook and Bezai eats and diet on a healthy lifestyle because of his skating career.

•He is not a fan of fast food because he prefer to eat healthier food. According to Bezai, he considered fast food "a place of wasting your health".

•he owned 4 pets at his mansion and had taking cared properly either himself or his servants. He owned a white stallion, a white snow fox, a Chihuahua and a swan.

•He is a iconic figure skater from Olympic culture, a fashion designer, a model and a interviewer of the Olympian Winter along side Johnny Weir.

•Egg has retired since 2016 due to his injuries gotten worse. But he can still skating properly and begin designing clothing and interview with several Olympian skaters to socialize and teaching/encouraging skaters.

•He had an accident during his skating performance since 2015. He got injured himself both his knee and hips when he is about to do the trick. That accident horrified Johnny concerning his safety.

•He has been pressured so much due to suffered anxiety issues and intense fear of disappointment/failure.

•when he pressured too much, he will 'crack' mentally. He is lucky that he hadn't harmed himself or commit recklessness.

•Bezai's mentor, Johnny is always worried of Bezai's health and his anxiety issues. Fearing the thought of Bezai doing something harmful to himself.

•He had bodyguards and servants to protect, escort and serving him because of his insecurity and needed emergency.

•Egg lived in his own mansion in the middle of a beautiful field, his mansion is a Victorian like castle, a farm for his vegetable harvesting (because of his healthy lifestyle) and his pet horse, a huge gym and a room filled with stuffed animals.

•he is actually a stuffed animal collector, he mainly collect panda, polar bears, snow fox, swans and fluffy and furry stuffed animals.

•Bezai has a soft spot for soft furry fur and he always sleep with a huge egg like bed inside a very soft cushions, pillows and a soft furry blanket. The reason why he is likes anything soft is because he is an Egg. (If you know what I mean)

•the reason why he is sleeping with an egg like bed is because he is afraid of getting caught by dust, germs and caught himself a cold. (If you remember the clues where Egg is inside a big egg container)

•He is a huge fan of Lady Gaga. He had an autograph from his favorite celebrity and he wanted the signature to his most favorite ice skating costume. He even listened to her songs and brought all albums.

•Egg is rocking with heels! He can wear them and dance with it like a real god he is. (Bezai: of course I can rock it, I'm fabulous!)

•He can wear both dresses and suits what ever he likes. If anyone dare to insult or gave him a homophobic insult at him, his bodyguards would murder/assassinated them. He will ignore it and do what ever he wants.

•Egg has a collection of champagne, he only drink it every weekends.

•Bezai and Nicol often compete to each other teasingly as frenemies. Because of the "their chemistry don't mix well" due to Dog's Gothic puck bad boy persona/style and Egg's flamboyant, narcissistic and stylish style didn't mix so well. Bezai often to teasing Nicol by smacking his butt, teasing him into something that makes him embarrassed and bragging for his closeness to Addy while Nicol often to do scare pranks at him (not too much or too far, but didn't do often because of Addy), fake threats, always pulled his egg hat and teased him about his favorite yaoi ships.

•Egg and Ice Cream are partners together before and after the Masked Singer. Because they both food related.

•Egg is really adored to Doll. Addy admired his flamboyance and stylishness (because I have a soft spot to guys with flamboyance and sassy attitude) and all his bling. While Bezai is being impress of Addy's talent, potential on fashion designing, her elegance and Egg literally saw Doll like a model.

•Egg really wanted Doll to become his model because of her beautiful features and body type. However, Doll doesn't wanted to due to my shyness and I had been told that I look like a super model. Bezai convinced me that I am until Nicol caught that attention.

•Bezai becomes Addy's fashionista/fashion designer, her modelling teacher and a good figure to influence her. Nicol proposed him to become Addy's influential to give her better confidence and helping her picking up clothes for her.

•His room when staying at the Masked Singer season 2 mansion, his room is of course Victorian like, pure white with a hint of jewels, ice, crystals and yellow. With his egg bed, fluffy carpet floor, his stuffed animals and mannequins clothing hanging beside his desk of his several designing clothes.

•Egg work out 4 hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to keep his body shape in the same body type.

•he owns two weapons: fork like trident and blades heels/shoes. He knows how to use it and he can fight himself for self defense. Despite he has bodyguards to protect him because of the concerning pressure, he can managed to fight alone or competing someone who challenged him or Egg challenging him.

•Bezai's powers is ice and his fighting style are swan technique style (it is actually flight, he prefer it to be called "Grace style"), agility and balancing (a fox style "skater's style") and some kicking attacks (using his blade heels/shoes)

•Egg is actually a friend to Eagle because they known each other in New York both are interviewers, Peacock since he is a fan to Peacock's performance in Las Vegas, Penguin, Poodle, Alien and Lion together meet each other at the gala every year then Leopard, Bee and Ladybug also met at the gala but the three both commonly have a royal like clothing together.

•Bezai met one of Addy's member from her gang. Narcis the Purple Peacock. Since 4 years ago before the accisent, they first met when Bezai is skating himself at the private skating ring until he notice Narcis's skating first and showing off his skills then the Purple Peacock is offering him a special free drink and complement his professional skating skills.

•the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock even gave him a nickname "ваши милости" ("your Graces" in English).

•Narcis is the one who helped the injured Bezai carrying him out if the ice. Bezai wanted to know who is the mysterious charming man and he also remembered he is actually a Russian man.

•Addy knew it because Narcis told her that he had met the iconic Egg man. He told her not to tell him just yet.

•Egg might have a crush on the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock.

•He CAN'T go out without wearing bling. (Bezai: trust me, I won't go outside the place without wearing my jewelry)

#the masked singer human au #the masked singer #the masked au #mask au #bezai lebedev cawthorn the egg #bezai lebedev cawthorn #bezai #masked singer

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willandkatealways · 6 years ago

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Taken

A/N This is a different kind of Will and Kate fanfic I hope y'all like it.

Kate opened her eyes in the darkness, she had to be strong if she was going to get out of this mess. She knew they would kill her but would wait for the right time so she had to believe there was time. It looked like a warehouse of some kind. Her heart broke for her family. William would be heartbroken and she couldn't bear to think of the children. How long would it be before they killed her?

5 hours earlier

William woke up with Kate curled into him, they both had busy schedules today but these quiet moments made it worth it.

"Good morning sweetheart." He heard her soft whisper.

"Another busy day, should be done by the time the kids are out of school." Will said covering her face with kisses.

Kate sighed as she heard Charlotte running in, "Maybe to tonight." She whispered, "Lottie what have we said about knocking sweetheart?"

"I have to knock and wait to be invited in. But this was important mummy!" Charlotte exclaimed climbing onto the bed.

William chuckled, "Well what is the emergency?" He said tussling her bedhead.

"I'm hungry!" She said rubbing her tummy.

Kate smiled, "Well that is emergency! Are your brothers awake?"

Charlotte giggled as her daddy swung her into his arms, "George is playing in his room and Louis is talking to himself. He's silly."

William heard Maria calling for Charlotte, "Maria shes in here!"

Maria helped with the kids as Kate fixed a quick breakfast, she knew people would be shocked to know that she fixed her children breakfast and fixed lunches.

"You are visiting the children's hospital today correct?" Kate nodded at William as she spooned oatmeal to give Louis.

Maria was faking the children to school this morning so Kate made sure to get hugs and kisses before her team would be here to get her ready. "I love you both! Have fun today and learn lots!"

William finished feeding Louis while Kate got ready. "Just you and me kid." Louis was such a happy baby, he rarely fussed unless he had a dirty diaper but William felt that showed good sense. "Mummy is planning your first birthday, you will get cake and maybe a few presents."

He looked up when Kate walked in, she was wearing a blue overcoat with black heels and a matching hat band. "Louis isn't mummy beautiful?"

Louis looked at her and smiled his baby grin, "mamama"

Kate smiled, "thank you my handsome boys. I have to scoot but give me a kiss. I love you." She said kissing Louis head. She turned to William, "and I love you." She pressed her lips to William's, "I won't be late."

Present

William was outraged, his wife, his Kate had been taken. He would never forget the look on his protection officers face "Repeat." The man had said, his face pale and then those words, "Confirm the swan has been abducted."

William had lunged at the man, screaming at him, no matter that they were in an engagement. "Where is my wife? Where is she?"

And they hadn't known, they had taken him from the engagement and now he was on his way to Buckingham palace for his safety which he thought was crazy, they should be out finding her not worrying whether he stubbed his toe. "My children? Where are they?"

"They have been picked up and are on their way to the palace as well, they do not know."

William nodded and closed his eyes, where was she? Was she scared? If they hurt her, he trailed off he couldn't think that way.

He saw Charlotte talking a mile a minute in his father's lap, George was telling Harry about a spider at school. They were so blissfully unaware. He had to be to be strong for them, he looked around for Louis but didn't see him. "Where is Louis?" Fear clutched at him, what if he had been taken as well, then he saw Megan holding a smiling Louis, "Thank God" he murmured.

Charles forced a smile at his eldest son, "Glad you could join us son, Camillia why dont you take the children outside to play a spell?" He continued smiling as William hugged and kissed his children and ushered them out.

The second all three were out of earshot William exploded, "Where is she? I have to find her, I dont have time to sit around here!"

"Son, I know you are frustrated and upset but we have good men looking for her. You know you have to stay here." Charles tried to explain.

In his 36 years he had never come so close to hitting his father, "You cannot expect me to sit here! She needs me! She could be scared or hurt...or...no I will not lose her!" He felt Harry grab his arm and he shook it off. "Fine, if you won't help me, I will find her myself!"

He hadn't seen his grandmother and the Prime Minister walk in, "William please hear us out and then we will discuss the next steps."

Meanwhile, across town, "She is a pretty woman." The man named Rick ran his hand down her cheek, he took off the gag over mouth.

"What do you want?" She winced at how dry and sore her throat was, she had lost track of how long she had been in the dark warehouse.

"If we had time, a piece of you but we already sent your ring to the Prime Minister, do you think they know you are gone?" He seemed to enjoy taunting her, obviously he was the ringleader. So far she had counted only three men, they hadn't blind folded her, she knew they figured she would be dead before she could identify them.

Her wrists were raw from her trying to free them, "I know they know I am gone as do you." She had seen the news when they had showed her of William being led out of his engagement early, he had his public face on but she had seen the fear in his eyes.

"As soon as they give me what I want I will let you go." He said with a sneer.

"No you won't, you didn't blindfold me so you are planning to kill me. If and when you do, William will make sure you never breathe again." He grabbed her breast and she spat in his face. He slapped her and she tasted blood. She didn't react that's what they wanted.

She had to control her temper and figure out a way out of this mess.

William sat down as his grandmother did, then Teresa May handed him an envelope, "This was sent to me today, there is no way to know who it is from."

He gasped as he touched the ring, the blue sapphire sparkled, he clutched it as he opened the note.

"By now you know that we have the Duchess of Cambridge, give us what we want and she will not be harmed. Release Angus McCoy and she will be retuned. If not she dies."

"Who is Angus McCoy?" William asked, "Wait he was responsible for that bombing a few months back?" Teresa nodded.

William couldn't hear anymore, he didn't want to hear how England does not negotiate with terrorists.

He got up and began pacing, "Do you know where she is? It's been hours."

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, we have been able to pinpoint her location. Catherine's phone has a GPS tracker, apparently they took it and turned it off but now it's been turned back on. This is most likely a trap but an MI-6 team will go in and see what they can do."

William shot up, "I am going with them Granny, you cannot keep me here!"

Charles started to argue but Elizabeth shook her head, "Very well but you will abide by these rules. You will go in capacity of the pilot, you will not leave that helicopter for any reason. You must remember that other lives are at stake. I have told Captain Simpson that he is in charge and if you do not stay or try to argue he has my permission to handcuff you to the helicopter."

He looked from his grandmother to his father, he had forgotten Harry and Megan were in the room. "I understand, let me say goodbye to the children and I will be ready."

As William went into the garden, Charles turned to his mother, "Are you sure about this? What if he is captured?"

"If something happens to her, he will never forgive himself, he is a grown man and I have a feeling he will do as he's been told. He doesn't have to actually rescue her, but he needs to feel hes done something. " Honestly she wondered if it was a wise decision but Philip had convinced her.

William stood a moment watching them play, he walked to where Louis was crawling on a blanket. Louis looked so much like Kate it took his breath away. Since Louis was only a baby he could be honest. "Sweet boy, mummy is in danger but I am going to get her back. We need her don't we? I just cannot do this alone. I love you pumpkin." He kissed his cheek and gave him a cuddle. "Georgie, Lottie come here please."

"Daddy has to go on a quick trip in the helicopter but I will be back as soon as I can. Be good and help Maria with Louis." He said hugging them both tight.

George looked around, "Where is mummy? She said she would be here when we got home from school."

William hated lying, but he didn't want George to worry. "She was delayed, but she sends her love and will be home soon."

Across town, Catherine lay her phone down, a while ago she had gotten her hands free. They had left her phone out, so she had turned it on knowing the GPS would work. She hoped it was on long enough to get help and then turned it back off. She hadn't dare try to call. She put her hands behind her back as she heard footsteps down the hall. Please God let someone find me, she prayed.

The chopper was ready, William met the team and jumped in the pilot seat. The coordinates showed a warehouse still inside London city limits.

Andrew Simpson watched him, he was there with two more teammates, not a large number but if there Intel was right it was all they needed. He hoped Catherine could hold her own and not go to pieces. "Your highness" he began but was cut off by "You are going to save my wife's life please call me Will."

"Very well, Will tell me about your children? Trust me, right now you are paralyzed in fear for your wife but trust me talking about your children helps." Andrew Simpson had been through similar situations in war.

William nodded and cleared his throat, "My little girl, Lottie, people always say there's a bond between fathers and daughters and I never knew how right they were until we had her. She is our little darling, but dont let her fool you mischievous is her middle name. She is a little mother to Louis, loves to see what he is up to and help Kate with him." He was surprised to feel himself relaxing. "Louis is my baby, he is the happiest boy in the world. He looks so much like Kate. George boy he is a scamp, he really keeps us on our toes has since he was born really tests the limits sometimes but you won't find a bigger heart." He became lost in thought thinking of them, of George bringing home baby animals he swore were lost or hurt and needed care.

As they got close, Captain Andrew Simpson asked him to stay and he nodded as he landed near the warehouse. He had a weapon and knew how to shoot. "If you have a gun give it to her, she is skilled at shooting."

He watched as the team ran towards the warehouse. It killed him to stay but he knew he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Please God she has to be okay.

Catherine heard the gunshots, she tried to get a low as she could. She prayed someone was coming. Rick grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back holding a gun to her head. "I will blow your brains out princess." He sneered.

There was a pop and he fell, she looked in horror as blood poured around him. "Your highness, I am Captain Andrew Simpson, let's get out of here. Will said you could shoot, please carry this. Anything happens keep running when you get outside you'll hear the chopper run to it."

Kate nodded and grabbed her phone, she didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands.

The chopper was in the parking lot next door and she saw with a gasp her husband sitting inside.

Will turned to look, he almost couldn't believe it, he jumped from the helicopter and ran to her, "Kate oh baby thank God you are okay!" He held her in his arms until he realized there was an audience and he needed to get her to safety.

When Catherine woke up she knew she was in the hospital, she heard the beeping from the machine next to her. She looked over and saw William on the phone. When he saw her he hung up, "Hey baby how are you? They are going to release you soon. You have been asleep over 48 hours."

While she had slept William had finally taken a moment to look at her, he saw the bruises on her face and her cut lip. Her wrists were raw and bloody, rage filled him. If the scum wasn't head he would kill him.

Now she was awake and kept watching him, "The children?" He smiled of course she was more concerned about them.

"George knows a bad man hurt you but that I and a team of soldiers rescued you. Charlotte knows you were hurt but okay. Louis is blissfully unaware of anything." Will had told the kids that morning when Pippa had come to stay with Kate.

Tears filled her eyes, "oh Billy I was so scared. I thought I would never see you and the children again." She cried clinging to him.

"I know sweetheart, I was scared too but you are safe now. I love you always." They held one another as dawn broke. The bruises would fade but together they could overcome anything.

A/N hope y'all liked it!

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fly-pow-bye · 6 years ago

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DuckTales 2017 - “Sky Pirates...in the Sky!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Madison Bateman

Directed by: Matthew Humphreys

Storyboard by: Vaughn Tada, Brandon Warren, Jason Zurek

That’s redundant!

Last week on DuckTales 2017: a vision where a major character gets vaporized, and someone got their mind taken over in a horrifying way and is now asking where the knives are! And now, we continue from that with a “someone not fitting in with his usual group joining a bunch of bad influences” plot. Or, to put it more bluntly and more Disney...

🎵La la la laaa, la la, tweet deedle dee, tweet deedle dee, tweet deedle dee, la la la la!🎶

Our story begins with the Sun Chaser coming back from another adventure, the bountiful treasures of Duckachuquack. Dewey, the fun-loving-one in any plot that doesn't involve his search for his mother, and the focus of this one, is trying to tell his story about his new "trademark hat" to no avail.

We see pretty much everyone's personalities on display here: Louie's counting up the money, Webby is being educational, Huey is complaining about how Launchpad uses an ant farm instead of a radar, Launchpad is being Launchpad, and Donald is too busy working on the houseboat to be in this episode. He even tries to get the attention of Scrooge McDuck, currently talking about expenditures, but he eventually gets told to sit quietly. This all gets interupted by a grappling hook from a giant flying pirate airship called the Iron Vulture.

Sky Pirates: 🎵LYo, ho, yo! Yo, ho, yo!🎶

Not only is this ship piloted by sky pirates, they’re musical sky pirates, and they're glad to let you know about that with an elaborate musical number. If you recongize that name, there's a good reason for that, as the song leads to naming their leader...

Captain Don Karnage! Is it the Don Karnage from Disney Afternoon classic TaleSpin? Well, I would say no, not just because TaleSpin took place long before DuckTales did, but because he's a very different character. While Jim Cummings was able to reprise his role for Darkwing Duck, he did not get the role of Don Karnage. Instead, it's Jaime Camil, best known for his role as Miguel's Dad from Coco.

More than likely, they felt the original was too much like a foreign stereotype, even if nobody could decide which nationality they were stereotyping. Also, he doesn't have a tail! Maybe they wanted to save the budget for the musical segments, which will be very apparent in this episode.

This is not to say that Don Karnage is on the same level as another "discounted" villain from that "discounted" show. While he never says any of his classic lines, he sure has a habit of saying his name over and over again, just like the original. He will certainly have a personality as we will see later, though if you can't wait that long, he says it right in the song.

Don Karnage 🎵With dagger, swagger, derring-do, handsome and fearsome and suaaaaave!🎶

They steal all of the loot in that musical number, and everyone's jaw is dropped by this. The one exception being our lovable doofus of a pilot, who is applauding. Launchpad enjoyed it, it even gets stuck in his head in a running gag. I would say this is a pale attempt to get people to like the musical number, but I don't necessarily disagree with the notion.

They yell at him, even though they were just as mesmerized by this to not fight back in any way. Then again, maybe they're more angry at him for leaving his pilot's seat...

...causing the plane to crash in the jungle, its vines getting caught up in the propellers, and the engine getting busted. While everyone is distracted, Dewey runs off. It's a little believable that Scrooge wouldn't have noticed if one of the kids ran off.

Huey gets the job to fix the plane, and accidently gets blue oil spilled on him. He even had the instinct to take off his hat so he can be confused with Dewey by Scrooge. Donald missed the trip; he would have broken this plot with his ability to tell the nephews apart. He never thinks about where Huey went to, but never mind about that!

Dewey is still on that quest for attention, and considers getting captured by the pirates. Thankfully for that plan, one of the Sky Pirates was practicing for the musical segment, not realizing that musical segment ended a few minutes ago. He grabs onto that plane leading to the pirates and sneaks behind a few boxes, as the pirates are celebrating their treasure.

We get to see Don Karnage's personality in full view this time: he's a perfectionist, and his review of that performance doesn't exactly match Launchpad's. He criticizes all of his crewmembers for being off-sync.

One poor sod comments that they got all of the treasure, so it shouldn't matter that the musical part was a little imperfect. Karnage does not exactly agree with that, so he decides to give him some pointers...

...by throwing him off of the Iron Vulture to what would have been his certain death! This episode may be all fun, but it's not playing around! Of course, we get a shot showing that he parachuted to safety in the forest, even though he didn't have a backpack with one in the shot where he's falling. I mean, I would be shocked if there wasn't a scene like this. There is a minor point to why this is there.

Eventually, Dewey gets caught, and Don Karnage has to leave to think about a good demise for this stowaway. Dewey tries to convince the pirates not to kill him because he just wanted his hat back, and the pirates stop in their tracks. The sky pirates are intrigued by the hat because of the way it ties onto one's head, preventing it from getting lost in the wind.

More importantly, they ask Dewey where he got it. For the first time, he finally gets to tell his story of the hat to people willing to give him that attention.

While that's happening, we see that Louie is paying close attention to a diamond. He proceeds to talk to himself. Webby tells Louie that it's the Sapphire of Souls, a gemstone that reveals someone's inner personality. Louie gets an idea that if he pretends to have saved the diamond from the pirates, Scrooge will let him keep it.

It must be a mandate that there must be a B plot in a DuckTales 2017 episode, and to call it a B plot is really pushing it. Not so much the "B" part, I could see some potential with the plot, but the "plot" part. Louie's adventure with the diamond really only shows up twice, and by the time it comes up again at the tail end of the episode, I completely forgot about it.

Going back to the plot they actually cared about, he gets a whole audience of sky pirates to listen to the story of how he got a magical alpaca to make him that hat. It is suggested that he embellished the story by saying that he was the chosen one, which fits his personality, but the pirates applaud at this.

The pirates lament that they can't be the "chosen one", because they're just stuck in the chorus, and the Captain doesn't think they're great.

Dewey: Well, what if he wasn't (the Captain)?

The pirates look at each other...

...and team up to get rid of Captain Don Karnage by making him "walk the plank" off of the airship, just like how he did to that one guy from earlier. Thankfully, he also has the ability to suddenly have a parachute as he falls off, and he also lands in the forest.

He ends up near the Sun Chaser is, and seeing a plane gives him the idea to use it to get back to his Iron Vulture. He does realize that the people he stole from wouldn't help someone who stole all of their loot, so he has to use all the skills in his musical repertoire to become someone else.

Unfortunately, because disguise material is pretty rare in the jungle, he had to make do with parts of his parachute and a bug for a mustache. Not helping matters is that, despite his status among the sky pirates, he's a pretty amateur actor. I could see the irony here.

He introduces himself as Tom Karnage, no relation, a plant scientist who had his research stolen by Don Karnage. Scrooge and the nephews huddle up, and it's clear that they didn't buy it. However, the plot doesn't continue unless they say yes, so they say yes.

After we see the end of a dance number, and Dewey giving the Sky Pirates the praise that Don Karnage wouldn't give them, he decides he wants to leave. One of the sky pirates offers him an alternative: the old Captain's dead lost in the jungle, long live the new captain. At first, he's confused, but he decides to join them anyway. You know, for attention.

Dewey becomes the new Captain. This episode has a variation on the cliche: instead of being badly influenced by the evil sky pirates, he's going to be the influence. His status is made even clearer when Dewey uses the pitch pipe to start another musical number, revealing himself to the Sun Chaser.

In fact, it's the same musical number from before, but this time the pirates all introduce themselves one by one. They even make fun of how this musical number is taking way too long, and I'm actually going to agree with that. It almost loses its charm, but it thankfully ends before that happens. Since the Iron Vulture is so big, they manage to capture the entire Sun Chaser, and grab what's left in it.

That is, they capture Scrooge and company, essentially guaranteeing that they would give Dewey some of that much needed attention. Unforunately for him, they didn't even know he was gone; Scrooge was still thinking Huey was Dewey the whole time due to that blue oil. Dewey gets upset that nobody even knew that he was gone, but not before he orders his crew to give back all of the treasure they just stole from Scrooge. After all...

...a good pirate never takes another person’s property! These pirates don’t seem to agree with that, though, and start to realize that their new leader reminds them too much of their old disenfranchised one...but with less money for them.

So Dewey's short career as a Sky Pirate Captain comes to an end, and both Dewey and the people he captured are put on the plank. On the plus side, Dewey is finally getting his attention...with a bunch of angry looks. Eventually, a special guest shows himself, still in his plant scientist get-up.

The sky pirates, in contrast to Scrooge and the nephews sans Launchpad, do buy said plant scientist get-up. It's a nice callback to when Launchpad confused him for one, and that won't be the only callback of that kind. He reveals himself as Don Karnage, and his Sky Pirates reunite under him. While the pirates are actually going to do something under the command of the new old Captain, Dewey tries to apologize to Scrooge, but...

...Scrooge starts to apologize to Dewey for not paying attention to him, since if he did, this all wouldn't have happened? I would think it would be just Dewey apologizing; Scrooge didn't really do anything wrong. Even Huey protests this, but Scrooge elbows him to keep him quiet. The plot doesn't continue unless they make up, I guess. Eventually, Don Karnage tries to use his sword, but he accidently frees Scrooge and the kids.

This all leads to a sword fight. When I saw this in one of the trailers, I thought this was a fantasy sequence inspired by reading about his historical figure, but no, this is an actual fight scene with Don Karnage and Dewey. There's some clever moments in here, including a plan involving all of the kids, and is the highlight of the episode.

How do they get out of this situation? You'll just have to watch the episode to find out, but I will say it does make the musical segments worth it. There's even a neat callback to "the Launchpad leaving the steering wheel gag" from earlier. It makes me wonder what this plot would be like if it was Launchpad who became the captain. I don't know how, but it would be funny.

Of course, they all live, they have two different arcs to resolve. It all ends with Dewey getting what he wanted in the first place, and Louie's plot finally gets its punchline. It's more of an extended joke than a B plot.

How does it stack up?

Unlike the last episode, there wasn't as much promise with this plot. It doesn't continue either of the arcs, there's no major plot changes, there's not even a cliffhanger unless you count the "curse you, Dewey" part. It's just a pure fun episode.

I debated whether this should be a high Neutral or a low Happy; I enjoyed it a little more than the last episode, but not that much more. The swordfight is good, I didn't think this Don Karnage was that bad, but other than that, there's not much that puts it with the best this show can offer.

Next, at least one secret of the Manor will be revealed, as even the title can’t decide if it is plural.

← The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! 🦆 The Secret(s) of Castle McDuck →

#fpb dt 2017 #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #disney #fpb reviews

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