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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

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Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right.

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.

You could only dream of being so lucky.

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.

You should have lied.

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”

Wrong choice of words.

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?”

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Better.”

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.

You feel so full.

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute.

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 years ago

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The Big Game: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff, canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

When you get to the crime scene, you're more confused than ever. There were two voices over the phone, but there is only one energy in the house. The pieces slide into place inside your head, and you finally realize who you're dealing with and why there were two voices over the phone despite you hearing one person.

"You alright?" Spencer asks Gideon who doesn't look too hot.

"What?"

"You seem unhappy."

"I am unhappy. I'm tired of people using religion to justify the terrible things they do."

"You're saying these killers are on a mission?" Detective Faraday says when he joins your group.

"These unsubs believe they're either on a mission from God or that the bible was somehow guiding them."

"Unsubs?"

You forget sometimes that people outside of your normal group don't know what "unsubs" stand for.

"That stands for unknown subjects," you explain.

"It sounded to me like only one of them was into the mission."

You want to correct him when he says "one of them", but you hold yourself back so you can tell Gideon your theory and see what he says about this.

"It's usually more complicated than even that. In the case of Dick Hickock and Perry Smith, Perry was the subservient personality. Basically, against even entering the Clutter home, and yet he was the one who almost single-handedly slaughtered the entire family."

"How many times was Mr. Kyle stabbed?" Gideon asks.

You walk to the front door and peek inside, seeing nothing but red inside. This unsub is clearly off his rocker... well one of his personalities is. Though, that's something you're going to come back to before you do anything about it. You want to hear what Gideon thinks of this before you do something.

"'Stabbed' isn't exactly the word. They're all long, deep gashes. Each victim has virtually the same wounds--both throats cut, a vertical gash up one arm from wrist to elbow, and a vertical gash down one leg from crotch to upper thigh."

"Those are the major arteries," you say when you join the men.

"It's damned efficient, I'll tell you that."

"How much knowledge of anatomy would someone need to do that?"

"Anyone with a basic understanding of the body knows where these arteries are."

Faraday presents the photos of the victims so you can see what the gashes look like.

"With any of these wounds, the victim would bleed out quickly, almost like an animal at slaughter. Wait, it's exactly like an animal at slaughter. A deer, lamb, cow, or something like that. You cut the throat first, then sometimes open up other major arteries to assist in draining the carcass. So, maybe a hunter? Or a farmer."

The looks they all give you are confusion and shock at how you know this.

"What? I grew up on a farm."

"Well, that's pretty much anyone in rural Georgia," Faraday says. "Your team can be anyone here."

"That's the thing," you clear your throat. "This wasn't a team. This was one person with three different personalities inside his head."

"Excuse me?" Derek says.

"How do you know that?" Faraday asks.

"Go on," Gideon encourages, interested to hear this.

"Okay, let me show you how I see things and people. There are four men here. Spencer, Derek, Gideon, and you, Detective. Each of you emit red energies because that is the base color for males. Females are blue and children are yellow. Keeping that in mind, when I look at each of you, you all emit different kinds of red energy.

"For example, Spencer, you have a pinkish energy because you're more innocent than the rest of us here. Gideon has more of a light red energy because he's more calm and collected than the rest of you. Derek is much darker than the rest because you're more hostile and are quick to jump into action. Detective, you're more of a greyish-red because you're on the outside and more confused than all of us.

"There are four men here, four different energies, and four base colors--all red. The different tints and hues of the color red are determined based on how a person feels, what they think, what they do, and their personalities. It's always changing, but the base color stays the same for that person.

"There is only one energy here, one base color, but there are two different energies stemming from the first. Take that, plus what I said about the voices being the same base sound on the plane, there is one person here with three personalities. This unsub we're dealing with is a man who has Dissociative Identity Disorder."

By the time you're done explaining, everyone is confused, shocked, impressed, or in understanding of what you just said.

"You can see all that?" Faraday asks.

"Every day."

"Even if what you just said is true, this is an unincorporated area. We're stretched pretty thin, manpower-wise. That's why we couldn't get here any faster after the guy called."

"Four and a half minutes is a pretty good response time."

"Yeah, that's on par with New York City's response time--four point three minutes, and they've got a hell of a lot more cops per capita."

"This unsub was good. You didn't really have a chance," Gideon says.

You all head inside the house and to the area where the bodies were found.

"Okay, let's say Y/N is right. Personality One called 911. The police are on the way, so he knows he doesn't have a lot of time. Now, Personality One didn't actively participate, so I gotta believe he entered the living room from here." Derek points to the window behind the couch where it's not in view of where the bodies were placed. "He sees Mr. Kyle on the other side of the couch. So, he approaches him, and he cuts him first."

"Well, how do you know that?" Faraday asks.

"A blitz attacker neutralizes the greatest threat first. In this case, it would be the man."

"Plus, with the 911 call, a woman screamed in the background. You can't really scream with your throat cut," you point out.

"So, Mrs. Kyle sees her husband murdered. She runs back into the bathroom. She tries to close the door behind her, but he forces his way in. He kills Mrs. Kyle back here in the bathroom."

Derek walks to the bathroom where there is blood spattered all over the walls and floors. On the door is a smudge, presumably where the unsub had grabb it to steady himself.

"We checked that smudge for prints. Nothing," Faraday says when he sees you examining the smudge. "Looks like he wore some gloves. Not with any pattern. Like latex maybe."

"That doesn't make any sense," you shake your head.

"It doesn't?"

"Unsubs suffering from a psychopathy, or a delusion like a message from God, are what we could classify as being disorganized. They don't generally clean up after themselves."

"Unless one of the personalities that is a neat freak came out," you point out.

Your phone rings and you answer it after seeing Penelope's name on your screen.

"What's up?"

"Are you at the crime scene?"

"As we speak."

"Is there, like, a burgundy settee against one wall?"

You look to the back and see the small couch she is talking about. You frown and stand up in confusion, looking around the room to see if there is a way she could have known that.

"Yeah, why? What's wrong?"

"I just got a viral video emailed to me by a friend."

"What is it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's a video of your crime scene. More specifically of your crime, most specifically of Mr. Kyle being murdered."

"You're telling me there's a video of this murder posted on the interent?" you say loud enough for everyone to hear.

They all stop what you're doing to look at you, and they all wear the same face--shock.

"Yeah. Shot from directly across the room from the settee."

You look directly across the settee and notice a laptop opened on a side table. This laptop is pointed directly at the crime scene, and you have a feeling this is what the unsub used to spy or record the crime. You march directly over to the computer and slam it shut, hanging up on Penelope.

"We were being watched. I don't know by who or where they are, but we were. Our unsub recorded the murder and then posted it online for everyone to see."

When you got back to the police station, you were able to watch the video that Penelope sent over to see if you can't gather more clues or details about the murder.

"It says that the world is a cesspool of greed. Lust. Disease," the unsub says from out of view.

"That sounds like unsub number one," Emily states.

"Yeah, we determined that we're dealing with one unsub here with three different personalities. I can go over how I explained it to Gideon," you say to the team who didn't hear this.

"He says redemption must be sought. We must all repent," the unsub says again, but in a different voice than from what you heard.

We'll revisit that later, but he referred to being Rapahel?" Hotch asks.

"Or God," Gideon says.

"It's not God," you shake your head. "It's one of his personalities trying to fight to be the dominant one. Those are the three different voices, but one base sound. The pitch and the octave switch when a new personality comes to the surface."

"These images were shot from the exact spot on the dresser where that computer sat," Derek notices.

You had to take the computer back from the house to examine it at the police station, so you could watch the video on it.

"So, if this video came from that computer's camera, then what? Did the unsubs bring it with them?"

"As far as we can tell, this computer belonged to the Kyles. Garcia can do a better analysis, but it has their banking statements and vacation photos," Spencer says.

He's the one sitting at the computer, and you watch the video of the murder once again to see if you didn't miss anything."

"Okay, if what you're saying is true," Hotch says to you, "then how did the camera turn itself on? If there is only one unsub, like you say there is, then how did he manage to turn that one well before he entered their house?"

"We might be asking the wrong questions," Gideon says. "This video, this message, it's important. Clearly, the unsub wants the world to see this. He needs it, but he didn't bring a camera with him."

You look past Spencer's shoulder and at the camera that's in the top middle of the laptop. You have a feeling that the unsub still has access to this camera, and he's watching you right now.

"Nobody panic," you say calmly, "but I need you to move away from the laptop as if nothing is wrong."

"What's going on?" Gideon asks from behind the laptop.

You and Spencer move out of view of the camera before you continue speaking.

"The camera is on right now, and the computer itself is connected to the wireless internet here in the building. Someone is streaming a video feed somewhere."

"Can we trace this stream to the destination?" Hotch wonders.

"If you keep it open, maybe we can have Penelope look--"

Before you could finish your sentence, the computer makes a weird noise, signalling that the person is also getting audio feed as well. You walk around the corner to see the computer, and it just shuts off on you. As soon as it goes dark, a message appears in red, bolded text.

The armies of Satan shall not prevail.

"So, he's controlling it remotely?"

"Is that even possible?"

"Let me call Pen," you offer.

You dial her quickly and get her on the phone even quicker. You tell her what's been going on and ask her the same question that EMily asked the group.

"Yeah, you can totally access someone's computer remotely. It's actually done a lot today. When a person calls for tech support, instead of giving you instructions, the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is."

"And they maintain the access even after the work is done?" Hotch asks.

"They're not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a trojan horse during a service."

She can't see how confused people are here, otherwise, she would explain what a trojan horse was. Instead, Spencer explains it flawlessly.

"It's something left in the computer to be turned on later. It's the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer."

"Garcia, can you check the Kyles' phone records and see if they called for tech support in the last six months?" Hotch asks as you still have Pen over the phone.

"Right-O. Oh, and if you get me the Kyles' laptop, I can search the drive for anything implanted there."

"As fast as we can."

"By the way, this video, it's gone crazy viral."

"What does that mean?" Gideon wonders.

"That means it's the most downloaded video on the entire internet, worldwide. Judging by the responses embedded in the files, people seem to think it's pretty cool," she replies.

"Call us if you find anything on the Kyles' computer."

"Yeah," Penelope says and hangs up.

"Murder as entertainment," Gideon scoffs in disbelief."

"They probably don't even realize it's real. People see so many images online every day, they might assume it's marketing for a horror film or something."

"The unsub is right about one thing--the world is pretty screwed up."

You have enough information on the unsub and the crime to put together a working profile, so Faraday gathers his men to hear the profile and jot down notes.

"So, what have we got so far?" Hotch wonders.

"Well, the killings are clinically efficient. They had the earmarks of a slaughter, as in an animal," you state. "Or a sacrifice."

"We haven't been able to find anything in federal or state databases that suggest similar crimes. As far as I can tell, it's the first in a series."

"We're dealing with a person who suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder, and he has three personalities inside his head that come out at different times when murdering," you say.

"At least one personality may believe he's killing in the name of God, suggesting a psychopathy that should display extreme levels of disorganization. Yet there are forensic countermeasures and somebody in control enough to do complicated computer work. One personality is organized, the other's extremely disorganized. But what's strange is that the one that we would consider as being most in control, the one that made the phone call, can't seem to stop the other one from killing. Usually the frenzied personality takes direction from the cooler head," Spencer explains to the officers.

"Alright, so let's look at that. Personality One called the police before the killing, but he didn't leave time for him to get there. Is the phone call just a guy working on a defense in case of capture? I mean, maybe he didn't want to stop the other, but he did whatever he had to do to cover himself."

"So... what do we have so far? Not enough," Gideon sighs.

"Agent Hotchner," Franks, the captain of the police squad, interrupts. "State just responded to another murder."

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

Text

You Know Just What I Need.

Head of Security!Reader x Bucky Barnes AU.

Run-through: Freshly out of uni, Bucky Barnes comes back to live in his family home. Given he’s the only son of a billionaire, he needs security around at all times. And his dad puts you in charge of his son’s safety until he comes home from a business trip. You intend on doing your job as perfectly as always, but what you didn’t know it that Bucky is a spoilt brat who is only interested in pestering you and making your life a living hell… until eventually you are left with no other choice but to teach him a lesson in order for him to learn how to behave.

Themes: spoilt brat!Bucky, smut, fluff, slight dom!reader,

a/n: I was re-reading my bodyguard!stucky au the other day and I thought, what if the roles were reversed…? Enjoy!

“He’s here.”

One of the guards spoke through the comms, signaling you that Bucky Barnes was here. You were in the monitor room upstairs, watching over all the live footage of security cameras placed around the Barnes’ property. You observed the one at the gate and watched how the expensive car made its way through the gates.

He’s here.

You walked out of the room and made your way downstairs, on your way to meet your boss’ only son. You were the head of security, working for Mr. Barnes. You led an entire team who helped you in directing the rest of the staff employed by Barnes. Whenever your boss was away – which was always – every decision regarding the properties and companies went through you first.

Security processes, new policies, and most financial decisions, legal or illegal transactions – basically everything needed your seal of approval when the boss was away. You and Mr. Barnes had a comfortable bond since day one, he trusted you immensely, which is why you had been handed over the responsibility of taking care of his son, Bucky, until the latter’s father comes back from a business trip.

Basically the son was your responsibility for the coming weeks. Rumor had it that the young man was a nightmare; the complete opposite of his father. Since your job allowed it, you stalked him on his many social media platforms as soon as you received the phone call from your boss, just to get an insight of what you were getting into. You spent hours scrolling through the many pictures Bucky posts all the time. And so far, you gathered that he was; a brat, a party animal, spends his father’s money like it’s no one’s business on expensive cars and clothing. He enjoyed the finer things in life.

Oh well, you thought to yourself, this one is going to be quite a handful. Besides, rich kids hate security anyways.

You got downstairs and found some of the guards standing at the foyer, you joined them and they all gave you courteous nods. You noticed how they all stopped slouching as soon as you approached them, they stood straight. You smirked a little. Your job did require you to be somewhat intimidating and controlling, but you liked it. You quite enjoyed the power which came along the job.

In less than a minute, he finally walked through the doors; the one and only – Bucky. He entered the house with a gait which radiated arrogance. You refrained from rolling your eyes at him and his almost visible cockiness. But, you expected no less.

Dressed in all black, leather jacket and boots; you had to admit he was an attractive young man.

“Well, well, there’s nothing better than coming home after 5 years and being welcomed by a group of guards!” he sassed, looking at the guys. And you saw how he did a double take when he saw you. He did that thing that most men do when they see you for the first time; stare.

Perfect hair, minimal makeup, bold red lip, high heels for the aesthetics and wearing a tailored black suit with a white button down shirt – you looked great and you knew it. So you let him stare, just like you let all of them stare. Only not many men approached you, most of them were intimidated.

But Bucky wasn’t one of those, no. Bucky was shameless, and cocky and confident. He walked right up to you, eyed you up and down and smirked.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked, surprising you a little. But surprising the rest of the guards even more. They all turned their heads in sync to look at the exchange between you and Bucky. Because no one ever dared to talk to you like that before.

You smirked and tilted your head up just a little, looked Bucky right in the eyes. “Y/N. Head of security. My team and I were appointed by your father to keep you away from trouble until he gets back home. Because you’re unable to do so on your own despite being a grown man.” You answered with a straight face and nothing but sarcasm lacing your words.

Bucky was a little taken aback, usually women melt under his stare – but not you. He heard a chuckle or two come from the group of guards who stood nearby and he felt a little, just a little intimidated. But he liked that. You were fiery, and he was digging it. “Anything else, Mr. Barnes?” you asked again, breaking his little reverie.

He shook his head. “No.” he still had that damn smirk on his face.

You faked smiled at him. “Very well then, Wilson will show you to your room. He and Quill will be your bodyguards for the days to come.” You briefly explained, and pointed to Sam and Peter.

Bucky spared them a dirty look and by the time he looked back at you, you began walking away. “Hey, wait!” he called out after you. You stopped and turned around, refraining from rolling your eyes again. Bucky smirked, and walked over to you again.

“Why can’t you be my bodyguard? You seem badass enough for that. Besides, we could really have a lot of fun together you and I.” he finished with a wink.

You flashed him another faint, fake smile. “Mr. Barnes, you should know that I have a lot more important things that require my attention. My team needs me to help run your father’s company while he’s away. I can’t possibly do that and babysit you at the same time.” You leaned in just a little and whispered the last sentence just so the guys won’t hear you.

Bucky chuckled as you stared at him for another second before turning around, leaving him behind again. And oh did he enjoy watching you walk away. He had never had any woman be so uninterested in him before. So this was very new to him. And he was intrigued.

Like you said, his two bodyguards showed him to his room where he spent the rest of the day. He thought of you, shamelessly, while he showered. Self-abusing himself under the warm water as he thought of your bold personality, and those irresistible eyes of yours… and your red lips, and your body… and the way you carried yourself, confidence and power surrounding you. He had only met you hours ago, but he wanted you. Bad.

He made a mental note to pester you and annoy you until you finally give in. because he was Bucky Barnes, whatever he wanted he got. And right now there was nothing more he wanted than you. Bucky didn’t know exactly where or how this would go, but one thing he knew for sure – he had to have you.

---

The next two days were absolutely terrible. Actually, the days were fine; it’s Bucky who made them terrible.

It started out when your boss called you, asking you if you could stay under the same roof as his son. For the latter’s safety and well-being, because there was no one else he trusted around his son more than you. Not having the heart to say no to the old man, you agreed.

Bucky was excited when he heard this decision made by his father. And suddenly, all of his shirts went missing. He paraded around with just his sweatpants on, purposely entering and leaving the room which you were in several times just to get your attention.

Sure it was annoying, but you couldn’t complain much; he was fit. Now you knew why he had so many girls around him all the time on all of his social media posts. The guy was hot!

He annoyed you even more by constantly flirting with you, without hesitation. Or he would do this thing where he would purposely walk by you, and make sure his body brushes against yours each time. But you worked for his dad so there was nothing you could do or say. However no matter what he did, he was never disrespectful.

He even tried to have your number, to which you denied at first. Then he thought he blackmailed you by saying what if he gets in trouble one day and how he should have it just in case. And you rolled your eyes and gave him your number just so he would shut up.

But he didn’t.

Given you had to live with him, you settled in one of the many guest bedrooms. You chose the one on the ground floor, trying to be as far away from Bucky’s room as possible. But still, he annoyed you all through the night by texting you incessantly. And it was always cheesy texts which made you question how is he a 25 year old adult;

‘I can’t sleep. Come cuddle me?’

‘I know you’re awake. Are you possibly thinking about me? ;)’

‘I would sleep better with you here with me yk’

‘I’m all alone… in my bed… thinking of you… with my hand wrapped around my big… Bible because I pray to God that one of these days you respond to my messages jfc’

You would never respond to any of his messages. You would just laugh and turn your phone on silent each night before going to bed.

It’s alright, you told yourself, I can keep him safe and ignore him at the same time, right?

Wrong.

A few days later, Bucky received an invite to a prestigious party being held in the city by one of his father’s closest friend and long-time business ally. And given his dad wasn’t here, Bucky was the one who would have to go in his place, he couldn’t possibly miss it.

But there was a problem – Bucky needed a date.

“Absolutely not.” You denied him right when he came into the study room, where you were dealing with paperwork, asking you to be his date for the party tomorrow.

He sighed dramatically. “Why not? If you go as my date, you could keep an eye on me as well.” He approached you by the book shelf and stood a little too close. He leaned in and whispered, “Because I tend to misbehave a lot.” He breathed in your ear in his deep, velvety voice.

And you felt a tingle dance down your spine when he whispered in your ear, but you convinced yourself it was nothing.

You thought over it. His dad had specifically asked not to let him go anywhere on his own. Plus, you wouldn’t trust him on his own. Lately even Sam and Peter had been complaining that he could be unmanageable.

“Fine.” You agreed on going as his date to the party.

---

The lavish party was being held at an equally grand mansion.

You should have known it was a bad idea to come here as Bucky’s date. Because not only was he absolutely shameless and flirty, and annoying but this spoilt brat also took the liberty to tell everyone that you were his girlfriend before you could stop him or correct him.

And soon, you two became the talk of the room; he noticed that the men gave him envious glares while you noticed that the ladies gave you envious glares.

“We look great together.” He whispered in your ear and proceeded to lean down and kiss your cheek and pulled you closer while the two of you were slow dancing, after he begged you to. And you had to keep fake smiling as you looked up at him with nothing but annoyance in your eyes.

You kept your hands around his shoulders while he smirked and placed one of his hand right on your butt. “Come on, admit it.” He said, full of cockiness.

You gently moved his hand from your ass to the side of your leg, where your thigh holster was, with a handgun in it. His smirk disappeared for a few moments as he felt the gun through your stunning evening gown and you smirked this time, looking up at him.

Just for show, you leaned in to kiss his cheek as well. “Try that again and I’ll shoot you and make it seem like an accident.” You whispered in his ear and pulled away to fake smile at him.

Bucky chuckled. “Can’t tell if you threatened me or turned me on even more, babe.” He whispered, winking at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

You left the dimmed dance floor as soon as the song ended. And you went to grab your clutch and went to get a drink at the bar. You sipped on it lazily, then noticed that Bucky wasn’t by your side yet; annoying you like he had been all night. You turned around, expecting to find him near you somewhere. But you didn’t see him.

You panicked for a moment. But then your phone rang in your clutch. You answered it immediately once you saw that it was Bucky.

“Where the hell are you?” you whisper-yelled through the phone.

He chuckled. “Aww, miss me already? Can’t even leave you for a few minutes? Jesus, you’re so obsessed with me.” He sounded just as cocky as ever. And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he had that damn smirk on his face right now.

You sighed, less worried now that you knew he was alright. “Bucky, where are you?” you asked, your tone serious.

“We have a problem.” He answered.

“We?”

“Well I do, but you’ll have to fix it. It’s bad.” He spoke again.

You sighed again. “Everyone here already thinks I’m dating you. What could be worse?”

He fake gasped over the phone. “Wow that hurt. Okay but seriously, I spilled my drink all over my shirt. I have another set of clothes in the car. I need your help, please.”

“Where are you?” you asked, clearly annoyed but you had no other choice but to help him.

“Upstairs’ library.”

You ended the call in his face and sighed again. You swallowed the rest of your champagne and asked one of the guards who came with you to go get Bucky’s clothes. You managed to hide from the crowd and get to him in less than a few minutes.

And there he was, standing in the middle of the spacious library. Shirtless, hands in his pockets. And with his signature smirk on.

“That was quick.” He sounded amazed, “Can’t away from me for long, can you babe?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you one of his famous smirks.

You rolled your eyes at him and handed him the shirt and tie on a hanger. “Seriously, get dressed.” You wouldn’t lie, you did check him for a few seconds because sure he was an annoyance, but he had a body to die for. Abs, Adonis belt, a sinful trail of hair starting from his lower stomach all the way down to-

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, stare all you want.” He sounded cocky once he caught you checking him out. He leaned in closer, “I’m all yours.”

You sighed again, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh please. I don’t have time for young, immature boys.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles and turned around to leave. But he stopped you again.

You turned back around to face him as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “What?” you sounded like you were done with him.

He didn’t say anything, he just lifted the tie up to your face and gave you another idiotic but somewhat adorable grin.

Of course, you should’ve known he couldn’t tie his own tie. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he didn’t know how to knot his own shoelaces. You grabbed the black tie and walked up to him, throwing it around his neck and stepped up closer to tie it into a perfect knot. He stared at you the whole time.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” he pointed out, with a big smile on his pretty face.

You glared at him, then looked back down to focus on getting the knot right. And he spoke up again, “I said, you’re really pretty y-,”

You cut him off. “I heard you the first time. I’m seven years older than you, so quit it.” you clarified, thinking the age gap would be a turn off for him. But it was quite the contrary.

He smirked when he heard that you were older. “That’s hot.” He commented, and honestly you expected no less from him. You glared at him again and he casually wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. So close that his lips almost touched yours.

You tried ignoring how your heart fluttered.

“I have a gun on me right now, I suggest you behave before I do something we both regret.” You spoke monotonously, as always and he just smirked.

“I get all tingly when you threaten me like that, babe.” He was incessant.

You abruptly tightened the tie way too much on purpose and his eyes widened for a second as he struggled to breathe for a moment. You pulled his face closer to yours by tugging on the tie. “Enough.” You whispered, looking him dead in the eyes and making it just a little uncomfortable for him to breathe.

You let go of him after a few seconds and walked away without another word said. And once again, he didn’t shut up when he should have. “You look even better when you’re walking away!” he called out after you and it took you all your willpower not to turn around and punch his perfect, chiseled face.

---

As you expected, Bucky didn’t give up trying to annoy you. Even days after the party, he wouldn’t stop following you around and annoying you at all times. But you had to put up with it, because you knew that the closer he is to you, the better you can watch over him. But oh God was he annoying.

He lazily walked over to the couch where you were sat at in the living room one afternoon. You were replying to some emails for work, and filling in Bucky’s dad at the same time. Of course, through text you made it seem like his son was perfect and well-behaved, when in reality… well, not so.

Bucky sighed dramatically, trying to get your attention but you purposely didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so you kept typing. He groaned and plopped down right next to you on the couch, and you didn’t have to turn your head to look at him to know that he was shirtless again, with that damn smirk on his pretty face.

“I’m bored.” He complained, whining like a child and he was sat so close to you that he was almost leaning on you. He casually placed his hand on your knee and you immediately slapped his hand away.

“Bucky, I’m working.” You said, using your ‘don’t disturb me’ voice. But he didn’t care. He never cared.

“But I’m bored.” He whined again, and took the liberty to just shut your laptop while you were clearly in the middle of some serious work. You didn’t want to waste energy on telling him off so you just closed your eyes, calmed yourself down and turned to face him finally.

He grinned like he won something. “Okay. What do you want?” you asked, keeping a polite face on so as not to give him one of your famous resting bitch faces.

He smirked. “You.” he answered with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him. And he quickly mumbled an apology that he didn’t mean and sat up straight. “Okay, let’s go out. I need to buy some stuff.”

You stared at him with a straight face, and sighed; agreeing. “Fine.” You stand up and walk towards your temporary bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to change.” You replied, without turning around.

He smirked to himself. “You don’t need to look extra pretty for me. I already like you quite a lot.” He didn’t get a reply this time, not even a glare. He just heard you sigh really loudly and slam the door of the bedroom shut really loudly. He chuckled to himself.

He waited for you at the stairs by the front door. And he had his sunglasses on so you didn’t see the way his eyes widened when he saw you step outside in another outfit; a bit more casual than your usual suits.

Black, long-sleeved turtle neck with a grey colored pleated tennis skirt. You looked… hot.

“Staring is rude.” You sasses once you noticed he was indeed eyeing you up and down.

He smirked as you walked past him and got down the stairs, making your way to the car which was waiting for the two of you.

“Didn’t take you to be a skirt kinda girl. You’re more like a sexy suits and guns kinda girl. I mean, I love it.” he took the liberty to comment on your style.

You stopped right before you got into the driver’s seat and faced him with another fake smile. “Yeah well, it’s practical. You can’t see the handgun in my thigh holster, can you?” you smirked and got into the car.

Bucky took a few seconds to process everything. As if your appearance and you being out of his league wasn’t torture enough, now he had the image of you with a thigh holster permanently in his brain. And oh was that doing things to him. He didn’t even know he liked older, badass women until now.

Now, he was crushing on you harder than he intended to.

He was just as audacious and flirty in the car as always. He said he wanted to shop so you took him to the chic and expensive part of the city; where the rich kids usually go to spend mommy and daddy’s money.

Sam and Peter were in the car as well. Because Bucky was unpredictable, and you could always use more security guards around him given he was an absolute man-child. And to annoy you even further, as you walked beside him from store to store, he held your hand in his.

You would always let go of his hand, but he’d reach out to grab it again tighter each time and at some point you gave up and let him hold your hand. Again, you couldn’t have him wander off on his own so the closer he was to you, the better. Sam and Peter followed you two, trying to blend in as much as possible.

Bucky kept carelessly buying everything that fit his aesthetic; shoes, watches, jackets and everything else he didn’t bother checking the price tags of. And while he was being a difficult client, trying on everything and making a mess, you just stood there on your phone – occasionally looking at him and rolling your eyes at how extra he was.

“Do you really need that many shoes and watches?” you complained, stepping out of yet another store and already making your way to the other one. You were getting tired, and you weren’t a women who quite like shopping in general, so Bucky was just too much.

“Hey, don’t judge. I have a rep to maintain, besides I…” Bucky kept talking as you entered the next very expensive looking boutique, your hand still in his but you zoned out completely as you caught the stare of another pair of familiar blue eyes right upon stepping into the building.

Steve.

You were somewhat surprised upon seeing him so unexpectedly. But then again, it wasn’t too surprising because he was a man with expensive taste as well. You lingered around Bucky while he looked around, but all your attention was on Steve – who stared at you. Or maybe he was staring at Bucky more.

Eventually, Bucky grabbed a ton of clothes and went on try them; leaving you behind. Sam and Peter were right outside in the car, but that meant that you were alone inside the spacious store and there was nowhere for you to go as Steve began walking towards you. For a second you debated stepping out and joining Sam and Peter in the car while you waited for Bucky, but it was too late, Steve was too close by the time you thought of it.

You panicked, but you had perfected the calm and composed face so you put that on as he got closer and closer. You knew there was no way you could avoid him now.

“Y/N, hey.” He greeted you with a smile.

You returned him a fake one. “Steve, hello.” You kept your voice steady and monotonous, not letting your irritation and uncomfortableness show.

He stepped closer like he was an old friend, invading your personal space like it was nothing. Then again, he never cared much about you. “How come you’re here? You don’t even like shopping.” He pointed out, surprising you with how he still remembered that little detail about you.

You maintained the fake smile on your face and crossed your arms over your chest out of habit. “Yeah well, people change Steve.”

He chuckled dryly. “Is it that boy you came with? Did he bring about that change?” he asked, clearly jealous and bitter – like he always was.

You smirked. “That’s none of your business.” You were still calm but you could see it in his eyes; his anger slowly building up.

He scoffed. “What, you’re dating young boys now? He looks too young for you, seriously Y/N.” Steve commented, rudely and stepped closer to you – forcing you to take a small step backwards. “You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” he whispered, reaching out to twirl a lock of your with his fingers.

You didn’t know what to say to him, but luckily you heard Bucky’s voice speak up behind Steve.

Bucky stepped out of the changing room with the piles of expensive jackets and sweaters he intended to buy and he stepped out with a grin, excited to see you roll your eyes at him. He enjoyed annoying you for some weird reasons. But his smiled morphed into a frown the moment he saw another man standing too close to you.

Bucky dumped all the clothes on the couch nearby and stared at the guy. Slightly long hair, facial hair, dressed in a sharp suit; the good looking bastard was talking to you, and Bucky didn’t like it. He approached the two of you, eavesdropping like it’s no one’s business.

“…You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” the guy said, while toying with a lock of your hair.

The audacity, Bucky thought to himself, I haven’t even touched her hair yet.

“She doesn’t need anybody. Now back the fuck away from my girl.” Bucky said out loud, not bothering about whether the workers heard or not. They probably did given they were most likely eavesdropping just like he was.

The guy turned around to face him. Bucky was ready to throw punches but the guy didn’t initiate anything so he kept his calm as well. But on the inside he was raging. He wondered why he was so bothered by some other man talking to you. Maybe, he liked you a lot more than he thought.

The guy scoffed and walked away without another word said, probably choosing not to make a scene. Once he left, Bucky looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And surprisingly, unlike Steve’s proximity, you didn’t mind Bucky’s.

You nodded and refused to look him in the eyes. He understood and grabbed your hand and walked out of the building and into the car.

After an exchange of drivers, all of you made your way home. You were quiet, as always, focusing on the road. But Bucky was quiet as well, which was weird. You wanted to comment on it, but you decided not to. It wasn’t uncomfortable anyways.

A few minutes later, he spoke up.

“That was Rogers, wasn’t it? Dad’s business rival?” he asked, referring to Steve.

You nodded.

“Do you… Is he… how do you… I mean, he’s-,” Bucky struggled to find the right way to ask you about how you know Steve like that. So you cut off his rambling and answered the question he truly had.

“He’s my ex.” You said.

And then the silence was back for a few minutes. Sam and Peter pretended not to be in the car.

Bucky spoke up again, “May I ask why you broke up? It’s none of my-,”

You cut him off and answered again. You had nothing to hide, besides, Bucky sort of saved you back there. “He wanted me to quit my job, and stay at home and have his children. But I wanted to work and settle down later in life so… yeah.” you simplified it as much as you could for him.

He nodded slowly, before scoffing loudly. “Well what an ass! He doesn’t deserve you. Anyone worth being with you would be so fucking proud of what a badass woman you are. And how well you do your job and manage all of this all on your own. I mean, you’re beautiful as hell too and I-,”

You cut him off again, with a genuine smile and shaking your head at him. “Alright, alright enough buttering me up. What do you want?” you asked, smirking.

He gasped dramatically. “What? No, I meant what I said. You’re beautiful and amazing and badass.” He truly meant it. He hadn’t realized he admired you so much. He had never felt like this, so to lighten up the mood he added, “But since you’re asking, can I please go out with my friends tonight, alone?” as expected, he asked with an adorable face.

The kind you have problem saying no to. But you absolutely had to.

“No. Your dad strictly said no parties, no clubbing, no coming home drunk. You’re not in uni anymore, Bucky. When you’re dad gets back, you will join the business and someday, you’ll take over. You need to start acting responsible.” you repeated his dad’s words to him and he almost whined like the spoilt brat he is.

“But it’s not a party.” He argued. “I won’t get drunk.”

You turned to look at him briefly. “What is it then?”

“It’s a thing.” He replied. This man was seriously a 5 year old child.

“What thing?” you asked in your serious voice and he sulked.

“Just a thing.” He said, looking down at his lap. Just looking at him would tell you that he hadn’t heard ‘no’ a lot in his life.

“No. And stop sulking, you’re twenty five years old. Act like it.” you announced your final decision that he’s not allowed to leave the house alone. Definitely not for a party.

And you expected him to listen and not make things more difficult for you. But you should’ve known that Bucky wasn’t one to behave.

---

You woke up around 2 a.m. to countless messages, missed calls and emails. Your phone kept going off non-stop so you decided to check it. Some of the other members of the teams kept sending you screenshots of paparazzi pics of Bucky at some illegal car race taking place in the outskirts of the city.

And you were confused for a minute, because hours ago he said he was going to bed. You grabbed your phone tightly in your hand and jumped out of your bed, and ran upstairs. Your rapid footsteps on the stairs seemed to have caught Sam and Peter’s attention as well because they happened to be right behind you when you rushed into Bucky’s empty room.

He wasn’t here. He must’ve snuck out to go to a freaking car race!

“Why didn’t the alarm go off?” you turned to face the two guards and they looked at you sheepishly. Oh this was bad.

“He must’ve turned it off before leaving.” Peter answered, just as worried as you were. All of your jobs could be at stake here. But of course, the spoilt brat didn’t care about any of that.

“I don’t care what it takes but find him. And bring him home. I need to make a few calls and have these pictures taken down before his father finds out. Go, now!” you raised your voice a little and Sam and Peter rushed out of the room. And a few seconds later you heard two cars leaving the property.

Meanwhile, you were worried sick and angry and scared. You grabbed your phone and proceeded to disturb a lot of people who could help you take these pictures down before Mr. Barnes finds out.

You also made a mental note to have a talk with Bucky when he does eventually come back home. You would try not to lose your temper, but it seems like he needs to be given a lecture about all the things he’s not allowed to do. Disabling the alarm and sneaking out for example.

You promised you would keep your calm. And that you would talk to him without losing your temper. But the minute he walked into the house, at around 6 a.m., accompanied by Sam and Peter who somehow managed to find him at some beach and dragged him out of a party and now brought him home.

You saw the smirk on his clearly somewhat drunk face and your anger took over.

“Hi beautiful.” He said, smirking and then pointed to both guards, “You sent a search party, looks like you missed me.” He sassed.

And you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your anger could be seen on your face as you marched towards him rapidly, and out of nowhere grabbed him by the collar threateningly. You were livid. And Sam and Peter chose to stay out of this one because oh boy, you weren’t one to mess with when you were angry.

“When the hell will you fucking learn, huh?” you yelled in his face.

He was still sobering up thanks to the coffee Sam got him but even he knew that he had messed up this time by the look on your face. He was surprised at how physical you were. Part of him knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but feel a rush either. He was torn between scared of what your anger will entail, but also being turned on a little.

“Where the fuck have you been? Your dad specifically asked for you not to go out on your own because he has not been seeing eye-to-eye with a lot of people lately! And there is a lot more people than you think out there who could be after you just to hurt you and mess with your dad!” you yelled and Bucky was surprised.

He didn’t know this. Neither did Sam and Peter or the rest of the guys. Mr. Barnes trusted you immensely, so he told you some of his dark secrets. This was one of them, which is why he was so strict regarding the rules Bucky had to follow now that he was back home. And this revelation shocked everyone in the room.

You tugged on his collar a little more, and his body jerked forward a little and he was surprised at how physically strong you were. But he still didn’t say a word. “Do you know how many phone calls I had to make to take those pictures down and make sure your dad doesn’t find out? But you don’t care, do you?”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at your words.

“You don’t care about anyone else but you! You are a spoilt, selfish brat! I know you’re not used to it, but at least try, damn it! Try and care about your dad’s reputation, about our jobs which involves taking care of your ungrateful, stuck up ass!”

He had never felt so guilty before, nor had anyone ever dared to point out his mistakes so vividly like you did just now. And you weren’t wrong, Bucky never cared about the consequences of his actions. Let alone about how his reckless habits could affect someone else.

“Disabling the alarm and sneaking out, look I don’t know who the fuck you think you are Bucky, but you sure as hell aren’t a kid anymore! Fucking act like an adult!” you yelled again.

He hadn’t thought, before sneaking out, that if anything bad does happen; you might lose your job. Not just you, but all the guards and everyone else in your team. And now he was ashamed.

With one last tug, you let go of his collar and panted, trying to control your breathing and anger. You stepped away and pressed the top of the bridge of your nose; already feeling a headache forming due to all the stress. You ran a hand over your face, sighing in relief that he was home but also in annoyance at how childish and careless he could be.

“Now go shower, get some sleep and sober up.” You looked up into his ocean blue eyes which showed nothing but guilt and shame, as they should. “And for fuck’s sake, stop making my life a living hell.” You spat bitterly and turned around to walk away.

You still had a lot to do and take care of today, and this day began with a rough start and you didn’t even get a good night of sleep. And it was barely even 7 a.m. yet, to say you were cranky would be an understatement.

You had extra work to do today, given Bucky’s previous rebellious actions. Along with the usual work load you had, which made today extra hectic and your mood was off as well. Your team had dealt with the paparazzi situation wonderfully. Mr. Barnes didn’t know a thing. But that didn’t mean that you were on speaking terms with Bucky.

You saw him less than usual throughout the day. Once in the kitchen, where you were making coffee and he dropped by to try and talk to you but he saw the look on your face and turned back around without saying a word. Then another time when you were in the living room, and he walked by without saying a word. The tension between the two of you was real.

He felt so guilty that it seemed like it was eating him alive. Plus, he hated how your mood was shitty all because of him. He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t. He didn’t know how to, because he never had to. But he knew he should. Because he messed up big time, driven by his arrogance and recklessness.

He hated how you were mad at him. He realized that these past weeks, the highlights of his days has been getting your attention and watch you roll your eyes at him, and replying to his sarcasm with even more sarcasm. Now his day just seemed dry and empty, and he wanted so badly to make things right.

You weren’t exactly ecstatic after yelling at him like that either. Usually your days consisted of shaking your head at Bucky’s silly messages and replying to none of them, or trying so hard not to laugh at his terrible jokes, and allowing him to hold your hand in his whenever you were out. You wouldn’t lie, you did miss his harmless mischief.

But he had to be told off. He was getting way out of hand.

You turned in for the night earlier than usual, and right when you got out of the shower someone knocked on your bedroom door. Forgetting that you were in your bathrobe, you rushed to open the door thinking it might be one of the guards coming to tell you that Bucky had run off again.

But you were somewhat surprised when you found Bucky himself standing on the other side, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You didn’t say anything, you let him feel the awkward silence, and he deserved it. But then it got way too quiet so you spoke up.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” you asked, leaning against the door frame and eyeing his perfect body. He was shirtless again, what’s new.

Bucky tried so hard not to look at your cleavage, but he failed miserably. “I do. I just thought that if I look hot enough, you’d maybe forgive me quicker.” He voiced out his inner thoughts shamelessly.

You sighed. Guess he’ll never grow up, huh?

“Is this how you apologize after almost fucking up all of our lives and jeopardizing my job?” you asked, sarcastically in a monotonous tone for extra effect.

He sighed and looked down. Bad idea because now he got a good view of your legs peeking through the slit of the robe. He was once again, torn – debating between begging for your forgiveness or just say ‘fuck it’ and lean in for that kiss he’s been desperate for since he saw you.

He went with the latter.

Bucky barely gave you time to process anything as he gently pushed you inside the room, shut the door behind him, wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body closer to his as he placed his mouth on yours.

You were surprised, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t hate it. He kissed you feverishly, with ardor and passion and everything else he felt for you. He poured it all out through the kiss. Like he was coaxing you into forgiving him.

Bucky’s mouth moved perfectly with yours, his arms tightened their grip around your waist and your hands slid into his hair. You tugged on it gently as he started walking the two of you backwards, towards the bed.

He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, still not breaking the kiss. And you had to admit, he was a great kisser. He nibbled on your lower lip before pushing his tongue past your lips; gently stroking the top of your mouth while his hand slowly undid the knot at the front of your robe. Once it loosened enough, he reached out to grab your left breast; squeezing it and making you whine under him.

He smirked through the kiss. He had been waiting for this for way too long and now he finally had you. Bucky further unwrapped the robe from around your body and toyed with your breasts while he kissed you deeply. And when one of his hands started slowly making its way down your body and between your legs, that’s when you pulled away from the kiss and stared into his eyes; breathless from his kiss.

Bucky panicked. What if you pushed him off now? Or worse, what if he had angered you even more?

But instead, you smirked and pushed him down; flipping the two of you around so that now you straddled him. You settled comfortably around his waist, your robe barely covering your body but neither one of you cared. Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust.

You leaned down to gently brush your lips with his. His hands immediately rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. “You put me in a lot of trouble today, you know that?” you whispered, your lips brushing with his ever so gently with each word and his heart raced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” he mumbled, reaching up to try and press his lips to yours, but you pulled away really quickly.

“Sorry doesn’t make it better.” you spoke sternly. “You’re still a spoilt brat.”

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist; your core pressing down on his crotch. “And what are you gonna do about it?” he sassed and tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating as you reached out to slowly traced his mouth with your finger.

He bit his lip as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs; so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. You smirked when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your almost naked body.

“You need to learn how to do as you’re told sometimes.” You trailed your fingertips back up his body, making him squirm just a little and you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look you in the eyes. “Understood? Or do you need to be taught?” your tone sounded a lot more stern that you intended.

Bucky was pleasantly surprised. He nodded rapidly, trying to hide his smirk as the look on your face let him know that he was in for a ride. “Think I need to be taught.” He whispered, looking into your eyes to find lust, and hunger – same as his.

You smiled at his answer. Of course he did. “Very well then.” And without another word said, you grabbed both his hands and pulled them away from your body and pinned both of his wrists above his head, down on the pillows. “Keep them there.” You ordered.

But as usual, he didn’t have the habit of listening so he moved his hands back on you, pulling you closer and caressing your skin. He just needed to touch you. But you were running out of patience. You grabbed both his hands and pinned them above his head again. “I said, keep them there.” You said slowly, in a strict voice.

He smirked at first, but upon seeing that you were reaching for the black tie on your bedside table, his smile faded but he felt all tingly and his body throbbed in anticipation.

You grabbed the tie you had carelessly thrown there a day or two ago and carefully tied his wrists together. The cool, silky fabric against his skin made his heart skip a beat. You then secured his wrists to the part metal part wooden headboard. Your breasts were right in his face as you did so but he didn’t mind it.

Once done, you straightened your back to get a good look at him; beneath you, tied up and lips parted as he awaited what’s next. You smirked at how he gave you his famous puppy dog eyes. But no matter what, he wasn’t getting out of this so easily this time.

Oh no, you were planning on messing with him and toying with him until he can’t physically take it. And that’s exactly what you did.

You took off his sweatpants, and underwear then finally your robe. And as you did, his cock erected even more; standing proud and tall. Bucky’s face was flushed, and you could tell he was flustered and hot and bothered already – and you had barely touched him yet.

“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” your voice barely above a whisper as you settle on his right thigh. You bit your lip the minute you felt his warm, smooth skin press against your wet core. You rolled your hips gently against his thigh and you felt the familiar tingle dance down your spine.

Bucky watched you ride his thigh slowly; lips parted, his cock beginning to throb and leak. He knew then that this was going to be a long, hard night for him.

You pressed both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him right where he needed you as you worked to get yourself off by humping his thigh. You were leaving behind a damp patch on his skin and he bit his lip as he watched you; breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you made yourself cum.

He watched how your soft moans got louder and how you humped his thigh faster, getting higher… and higher… you tilted your head back, purposely putting up a show just for him. He groaned when you whined wantonly, and he gently lifted his thigh – pressing further into your clit. He felt your wetness smearing all over his skin and he hopelessly wanted a taste.

Bucky’s cock was leaking embarrassingly by the time you came undone above him, leaving him still hard and throbbing.

“Please…” he murmured as he watched you come down from your high. He was desperate, and hungry and he just wanted you wrapped around him. He needed to feel you, and your warmth.

You smirked as you slowed down and finally came to a stop, still straddling his thigh. “Please..” you mocked him, chuckling. “You’ve always had things handed to you on a platter. You’ve never known patience, or how to ask nicely, have you?” you smirked again, leaning in to trace his lips with your tongue. “Well you will today.”

You gave him a brief kiss before finally wrapping your hand around his cock. He almost whimpered as he closed his eyes and relished your touch. He felt thick and hard, and big. You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin feverishly; leaving your marks behind as you bit and sucked on Bucky’s skin around the base of his throat; making him shudder in pleasure and moan sinfully.

You pulled away after a while to look at him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and with his lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth; completely under your mercy. You smirked at how pre cum started dripping down his cock, and you knew that he was getting more and more desperate by how he kept murmuring please…please…please.

“Come on now, ask nicely.” You teased, knowing damn well you wouldn’t let him cum so easily.

Bucky groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just let you toy with him however you liked, he took whatever you gave him.

“Please… please make me cum.” He whispered, voice strained and weak.

You chuckled as you felt him twitch in your grasp. “No.” you simply said and released him, leaving him right on the edge. He was still hard and throbbing and desperate. You leaned down to kiss him on his hip bones, gently kisses on each side and you heard him groan and squirm.

You smirked and kissed your way up his body. Eventually making your way up his body so you were straddling his face. Your hips wrapped around his head as he looked up at you. None of you minded the intimate position, he was just happy to finally touch you again. Bucky looked up at you with hunger in his eyes. And you smirked as you lowered your wet core to his mouth.

Bucky wasted no time, his mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue took in whatever you gave him. He worked his mouth at your entrance like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, he ate you out like there’s no tomorrow, occasionally moving his head side to side.

You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as one of your hands held the head board for support and the other tangled in Bucky’s hair. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.

“You taste so good…” he murmured against your wet folds and you very gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin; he licked a hot, thick stripe from your entrance up to your clit, with his teeth grazing it until he had you moaning loudly against him.

Your hips bucked against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him. He closed his eyes and hummed loudly at your taste, making you whine and for a moment, you forgot that you weren’t supposed to be giving him the satisfaction. He was just that good and skilled with his tongue. Bucky adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself, throbbing with need. He was just hell bent on making you cum all over his tongue.

He had been fantasizing about this, about having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you cum all over his tongue. And you soon realized that you were letting him have his way, so you pulled away quickly.

Bucky’s eyes shot open, “No please… I want more,” he complained, whining as you moved away from his face and kissed your way down his body again. And he was giving you the puppy dog eyes again. You almost gave in but you weren’t entirely done with him yet.

He whimpered as you slowly kissed your way down his body again; down his neck, across his bare chest and all the way to his thick, erected cock. Without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. And he moaned out loud, mindlessly. You placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip.

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked handsome, completely at your mercy.

The gasps and moans which escaped his lips as he squirmed made you smirk. It only made you want to tease him even more, and keep him on the edge. His breathy moans, his soft gasps and the way he whimpered at your touch – it made you feel even more powerful than usual. He moaned and panted; murmuring your name over and over again, begging you to speed up already and make him cum. Bucky relished the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, perfect like he had dreamt of so often.

He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction just yet. You took him out of your mouth; licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Bucky moaned, his voice cracking; making him sound weak and desperate.

He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily. You chuckled as he tried thrusting his hips up, hoping that you would stop messing with him already. Your ability of bringing him right to the edge and mercilessly keeping him there for as long as you wished to was driving him insane.

Bucky lost all self-control the moment you sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him; making him swear under his breath and groan. You lean in and caress his face, looking him deep in his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. He was quite a sight; all muscular and strong, and handsome but tied to your bed at your mercy. You chuckled and leaned in to bite his lip, tugging on it as you pulled away, surely making him lose his mind.

You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. Just when you felt him twitch inside you, you lifted your hips up and pulled him out of you and watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness.

“Come on, ask nicely.” You teased. “Beg.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth; lips hovering above his parted ones. You leaned in to kiss his open mouth carelessly. And in that moment, he was ready to do anything for you, to please you.

“Y/n… please...” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. But you heard it. His desperation was quite clear. And he was so sensitive, from all that teasing, that once you started riding him again; he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your movements. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.

At some point, he was nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. But you wanted more, you wanted to hear him whine some more, you wanted to hear how desperate he could get. You messed with him for as long as you could, and Bucky got loud, very loud; growling as you teased him, and whining your name whenever you kept him on the edge for too long. You alternated between having him in your mouth and riding his cock, and there was nothing else he could focus on in that moment.

Just you. Only you. He was yours; yours to toy with and tease, yours to use as you pleased.

You eventually gave in; seeing he was physically worn out. And you fucked his brains out, making him cum in no time. Your walls clenched around him; gripping him and milking him perfectly. He was completely at your mercy, begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast after you were done with him. You kissed his chest, murmuring how good he was.

“Now, will you finally learn how to behave and do as you’re told?” you gripped his jaw gently, and looked deep into his eyes while you spoke. His hands were still tied, and sore and they were itching to just reach out and touch you.

Bucky nodded frantically. You smiled.

He stayed in your bed long after you two were done. He was clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree, shamelessly using your bare chest as a pillow. Your hand ran lazily into his hair and you smiled at how warm he felt. Sure, he was a tall and muscular man but he snuggled up to you like a child. You could feel his warm puffs of air hit your skin each steadily. You thought he was asleep but then he spoke up.

“Are you awake?” he asked, voice groggy and strained; deep.

“No.” you answered and waited for his reaction. And a few seconds later he lifted his head up to glare at you. You giggled at the face he made. After giving you a dirty glare, he got back to using your breasts as a pillow.

“Will you go out with me?” he spoke up again, asking you out.

“That’s not appropriate. I’m your dad’s employee.” you were starting to feel the day’s fatigue take over you slowly. You yawned right after speaking.

“Yeah? And what about what just happened? Is that appropriate?” he asked.

You sighed. “Go to sleep Bucky.” Truth is, you didn’t know what this was. But you wouldn’t lie, despite being annoying, it was hard not to love him.

He didn’t say anything. He pulled you closer and got on top of you, pinning you down on the bed this time. “Do you not like me?” he asked.

“I do! Get off, you’re heavy!” you giggled as he put all of his body weight on you.

“Then take responsibility for your actions. You stole my heart and now I’m in love with you.” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone which made you laugh. “Look I’m hot and cute, it’s hard being both. I am smart,” he was listing and as soon as he said smart, you raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly. “I have a university degree to prove it, okay?” he resumed listing his qualities. “I’ll keep you away from crazy exes, and I will get you a puppy if you w-,”

You cut him off with a kiss. He sure was adorable. “Okay, okay stop.” You mumbled against his lips. “Your dad’s gonna kill me if we date.” You groaned thinking about what would happen if Mr. Barnes finds out.

Bucky kissed you deeply, then pulled away to look at you. “No he won’t. Dad likes you. Even if he tries to, I’ll protect you. I’m very strong as you can see.” He mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and making you giggle given you were ticklish.

“A big baby is what you are.” You corrected him. He chuckled.

“Please just give me a chance. I really, really like you.” he said, sincerely.

You gave it a thought. You liked him too. “Okay.” You said. He pulled away and smiled down at you. “I like you too.” You spoke again and Bucky leaned in to kiss you again.

Little did you know that giving him a chance would end up being the best decision you ever made…

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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lumini-317 · 4 years ago

Text

Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago

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Slasher OC: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Full Name: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Nickname(s): Dacia, Dece, The Impaler, Vladislav, Tiger, Lynx, Dracula, Casanova

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Nationality: Romanian

Place of Birth: Bucharest, Romania

Current Location: Travels from country to country

Occupation: Former Romanian Soldier; Now Hitman

Languages: Romanian, English, German, French, Italian, Hungarian, Russian, Turkish

Appearance:

Height: 6'8

Weight: 240lbs

Body Type: Middle Bulky and Atheltic

Skin Color: Warm Beige

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Hair Style: Short on the sides and longer on top, wavy

Eye Color: Pale Grey, almost white, giving the impression he is blind

Face Claim: Stephen James

Clothing: He opts for comfortable clothing mostly because of his job as a hitman and because he is always on the run. He mostly goes with black T-shirts or shirts, a khaki army coat with many pockets, along with camo army pants again with many pockets and black combat boots. He has a long black scarf with the colors of the Romanian flag trimmed along that belonged to his father.

Other features: He has many scars on his broad back and down his arms; his back's scars are covered by tattoos of an eagle and a grim reaper with two swords in an X shape. His has full sleeve tattoos down his arms, picturing all kind of nature scenarios from his country, mountains and wild animals and AK-47's on each forearm. His neck, chest and legs are also covered by tattoos along with his hands. This guy is all inked up. He also has a silver earing on his right ear. He also wears an eyepatch that is covering his scarred eye that he got from a fight with his brother Alexander, the scar mimiking the ones Alexander has, coming from his eyebrow down his eye and over his cheek.

Weapons: Twin Swords, Twin Guns, and throwing knives.

Power/Skills:

Murderous expertise

Brute strength

Skilled usage of weaponry

Skill in hand-to-hand combat

Knifesmanship

Swordsmanship

Multilingual

Cunning Nature

Charisma

Driving expertise

Ruthlessness

Fearlessness

Manipulation

Marksmanship

Master tactician and strategist

Stealth mastery

Symbols: Here is the link to Decebal's symbols

History/Bio:

Decebal was named after a Romanian king by his parents, father Apostol Chirilă, and his mother, Maria Stratulat of Moldovic heritage. They were a poor family that lived in Bucharest during the communist times, a hard period for them. Decebal's father, Apostol was one of the rebels that were against this form of a system of social organization in which all property is owned by the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs.

Because of this Apostol and Maria, along with their three years old son, Decebal, were dragged into the communistic jails where they were tortured in all kinds of ways from whipping to starvation to being chained into coldness.

Decebal tried to protect his parents even though he was a small child and the army warden that took care of the horrific jails was surprised by the child's braveness and he took him away from his parents, not before forcing him to watch how his parents were killed brutally.

During the rest of his childhood and teenage years, Decebal spent most of his life in the dark underground jail, training with the soldiers, doing hard work. Despite that, the warden thought Decebal about all kinds of languages, cultures, and history.

'Just because you're a stray dog that doesn't mean you cannot learn to bark and bite.'

In his late teenage years as he grew into an adult man, he got more to the light outside, following the warden wherever he went and did was his so-called 'father' figure did; smoke, drink and got laid with all the ladies.

The warden's words during a drunken late-night:

'You know boy, you will do something big, much bigger than you can imagine. I saw how all these sluts looked at you... You make them fall into your arms like they are desperate whores.'

'Use everything you got; charms, brains, muscles. In this world, there are the ones that walk every inch of the ground as they own it and the ones that follow, all chained. Tell me, boy... Which one you are?'

One of the greatest abilities that Decebal earned during years in the darkness was that he got so used to it that now as an adult, he sees perfectly into the darkness, just like cats do.

Some people called Decebal 'Lynx'; the moniker originates from the fact that Lynx has exceptional night vision, remarkable hearing, and incredible instincts. The spiritual lesson Lynx carries to you is a reminder to partake of quiet observance, remembering there’s more to the world than what’s accessible through the physical eyes and ears alone.

After communism fell down in Romania, Decebal still maintained the attitude he grew up around; being sadistic, cold, and cruel. People weren't too fond of his attitude; his habits including fighting and torturing people that opposed him, getting laid with other men's wives, strolling down the streets like he owned everything.

He disappeared from Romania when there was a reward on his head to be finally executed. The Romanian army was hot on his trail, turning against him, but he simply vanished.

He strolls from country to country, not having a definitive home and working as a rogue hitman to earn money and to survive.

After a brutal fight between him and his twin little brother, Alexander; the two brothers which resulted in both of them almost dead, they get on an agreement of peace between them, with the help of their third part, their little sister Nadia.

Family: His little brother Alexander Chirilă and his little sister Nadia Nikolina Chirilă

His favorite killing style:

He prefers a kill that will put on a good show, he will shot his victims in both their knees, then he will dismember them with his sharp twin swords.

Personality:

Decebal has two paths of personality; the civilian one and the hitman one, that sometimes cross path depending on the situation at hand. In hi day to day life, he is a charming, handsome man, confident and sure of himself, but also having a modesty edge, just to draw people in closer, because he loves the attention, having a God-like complex.

Despite his childhood, he is a very educated man that speaks many languages, sometimes taking people by surprise, he can even put on fake accents. He also has vast knowledge about other countries history, mostly because that's what his 'father-figure' talked a lot about.

He is a flirt, he simply adores to make women swon by his charming looks and mysterious persona wherever he goes, people always wondering from where he comes. He knows how to sweet-talk people, being extremly manipulative. His looks; big and strong, in his eyes a flaming white glow.

You will rarely see Decebal without his charming smile or dark smirk that makes the ladies sigh and faint. He always puts on a winning attitude, knowing for creating many divorces along his travelings.

Here goes his saying: 'If the female raised her tail, who I am to deny.'

He has a romantic side, after all he does speaks the romance languages, but it's highly influenced his his Casanova attitude.

He is blunt; this man will tell if you're damn gorgeous or if you're down-right ugly or stupid. He has no problem putting his opinions straight on the table.

His favorite drink: Țuică- is a traditional Romanian spirit that contains ~ 24–65% alcohol by volume (usually 40–55%), prepared only from plums.

His favorite food: Sarma is a dish of vine, cabbage, monk's rhubarb, kale or chard leaves rolled around a filling of grains, like bulgur or rice, minced meat, or both. It is found in the cuisines of the former Ottoman Empire from the Middle East to Southeastern Europe.

His scent: Decebal's scent could be described as a 'game of seduction' with an "exciting rush" of citrus and cool spice top notes. Pungent bergamot "bites" with freshness, revived by cardamom and lavender. Caviar gives a provocative and erotic touch “like a trickle of sweat on a man’s chiseled body.” Masculine and rough notes of tobacco and orris root facilitate the heat of the composition. He has that scent that could be described as smoky confidence irresistible to women.

Other Characteristics:

He is a very good dancer, especially traditional ones and he also knows singing. Attending important parties with his 'father-figure' he learned from the women how to dance and sing. The women basically made him such a charismatic man.

He is a heavy drinker and holds his alcohol like it's water; his moldovic genes showing off.

He is more of a night person that a day one, mostly because of his very good nocturnal sight.

He is pretty much an Outlaw.

His accent sounds like italian, latin, but with a little bit of russian or another slavic accent. (That's how a Austrian woman described his accent one night)

He is a master at Poker. Another way he earns a lot of money is through poker and plus, he is a master cheater. FUN FACT HERE: He won a man's wife through poker for one night.

He is a sword swallower, bonus he has no gag reflex.

He also loves to smoke from his pipe.

============================================

There lived a certain man in Romania long ago

He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow

Most people look at him with terror and with fear

But to Bucharest chicks he was such a lovely dear

He could preach the Bible like a preacher

Full of ecstasy and fire

But he also was the kind of teacher

Women would desire

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the ROMANIAN queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

He ruled the Romanian land and never mind the Tsar

But the kazachok he danced really wunderbar

In all affairs of state he was the man to please

But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze

For the queen he was no wheeler dealer

Though she'd heard the things he'd done

She believed he was a holy healer

Who would heal her son

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

(This is an interpretation of the song ‘Rasputin’ by Boney M, mostly because the song inspired me into creating him)

For power became known to more and more people

The demands to do something about this outrageous

Man became louder and louder

"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies

But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"

No doubt this Decebal had lots of hidden charms

Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms

Then one night some men of higher standing

Set a trap, they're not to blame

"Come to visit us" they kept demanding

And he really came

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They put some poison into his țuică

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

He drank it all and said "I feel fine"

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They didn't quit, they wanted his head

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

[Spoken:] Oh, those Romanians...

=======================================================

But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger

#Decebal Avram Chirila #Slasher OC #Romanian OC #Original characters #Hitman #Outlaw

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skittles1229 · 4 years ago

Text

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They knew me better then i know myself.

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time.

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't. Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald.

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters.

i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night.

i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way.

before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

#dashiegames #dashiexp #dashie x reader #fanfictions #fanfic #self insert #romance

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script-a-world · 5 years ago

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hello. i want to write a story set in a very religious place. like fanatic level of religious. in my mind, this place is ruled by what the church says but has a "cover" figure to "connect" with the people. the people of this place are devoted to their religion, meaning they know passages, go to mass, and shun those who don't support it. here is my question: how does one go about creating a religion that feels real? what do i need to take into consideration (i'm not religious myself).

Mod Miri Note: At the same time this came in we also received from the google form the question “How do I world build a religion?” I can’t confirm they’re the same anon, but we’re combining them for the answer.

Brainstormed: You seem to have a very… narrow perception of religion? If you aren’t religious yourself and you’re (presumably) from a Western culture, it makes sense that the Christian church and more specifically Catholicism are your go-to images of hyperreligion. Saying “mass” and “church” and “passages” kind of gives away the fact that you’re trying to base your religion off of at least your idea of an Abrahamic religion, but I’d ask you to reconsider. Right now it sounds like you’re trying to create a negative critique of these religions, and even if that is what you’re going for, you need to do a lot of research on their theology, history, and practices before you can do so with any competence.

I’d suggest doing some basic research on types of religions, like animism, pantheism, polytheism, general superstition, etc. There are plenty of spiritual worldviews that you might consider way over the top, but whose believers find it more bizarre when people don’t follow their teachings. Fanatics are never fanatics in their own mind, and especially among their own people, but also… fanatic might be a relative term. If you’re approaching this from a nonreligious background, then you might consider X-amount of religion in one’s lifestyle to be fanatic-level. Whereas a person who actively practices religion would consider X-amount to be perfectly normal, and only folks who take it to XX-amount plus some shadier practices are the true fanatics.

Remember, religions start because people want to make sense of the world. There is a deeper feeling of wonder and personhood and power, both within a human being and in the whole world around us, that drives spirituality and generates superstition. Religion, at least to start, is beneficial to people, otherwise no one but sadists would follow its teachings. Now, like anything else, religion can devolve into a means of power hoarding and control of a populace, but only because of the people in charge getting greedy. The vast majority of religions I’ve studied have had radical, freeing, empowering teachings applicable to everybody when they first sprang up, and only later did adherents twist those teachings into societal oppression. If there is no satisfaction or benefit in your religion, there won’t exactly be any incentive for people to follow it so closely, aside from whatever negative consequences occur for those who fall away. And negative consequences aren’t often enough to keep people in a religion. If following religion is more painful than the consequences of leaving it, plenty of people will jump ship.

Religion can also show up in every single part of life. According to Wikipedia:

A religious experience (sometimes known as a spiritual experience, sacred experience, or mystical experience) is a subjective experience which is interpreted within a religious framework. The concept originated in the 19th century, as a defense against the growing rationalism of Western society. William James popularised the concept.

You look up and see a cloud, a spiritual person sees a portent, or a spirit, or a castle where the gods live. You take a break from work for a minute, a spiritual person now has time to mutter a prayer, or observe the mood of the world, or dedicate their work to their god. A person doesn’t have to be anywhere near a fanatic to have their religion be in every part of their life. Especially if they adhere to a more lax spirituality or superstitious worldview instead of an organized religion, the central spiritual experience of religious belief alters the perception of self and surroundings. It isn’t only a set of rules to follow.

It can even help areas of society that modern Western society considers nonreligious! Historically, medicine has always come under religion. Witch doctors, medicine men, witchcraft, even the hygiene laws laid out in the Christian Bible. Physical health has often been considered a reflection of spiritual health, which, in a way, is true! The placebo effect means tending to one’s mental and emotional health with the reassurance of religion will improve one’s physical health as well. Not only that, but the power of a “spiritual experience”, regardless of if you believe the supernatural is real, can cause religious ecstacy, something you might perceive as a serious psychological problem but those who experience it consider to be a deep form of spiritual expression to be treasured and sought after. The spread and preservation of information is also often aided by religion, even though that can change should those in power want to change history or obscure truth for their own reasons. Just look at the history of the printing press and how that was driven by the need for Bibles. Many cultures, most famously Australian Aboriginal peoples, have oral histories thousands of years long that tie in closely to their spirituality.

You also might be confusing religion with cults. If you think all religion is predatory, playing on people’s weaknesses and fears in order to coerce them into a miserable lifestyle of following strict laws and living under control of those in power, you definitely have conflated “religion” and “cult”. If you’d like to worldbuild a cult, go ahead! It’s likely to be smaller and less acceptable than an established organized religion, not very transparent to the outside world nor its members, and have a spirituality that is in fact just a veneer over gaining power, instead of genuine belief and devotion, and may in fact require people to murder or commit suicide. Just look at Scientology, or these, or even Jared Leto, and a more in-depth look from this organization covering many different kinds of cults.

On a more worldbuildy note, are those who practice this religion correct? Does their god(s) exist? Is the supernatural real? If yes, then are they really fanatics if they’ve been right all along? Even if they’re incorrect, the dedication and deep-held beliefs of religious people shouldn’t be mocked wholesale, in my opinion. Make sure to keep some genuine three-dimensional development for characters who are part of this religion, or include other religions with different practices, or the only thing you’ll accomplish is “waaaa religion bad believers dumb”. And if that is the story you want to write, feel free, but I can’t help you there.

Feral: What makes a religion feel real? Sincere faith.

Specifically among the leaders. I mean, sure, those lemming-like peasants who actually believe that superstitious nonsense will have sincere faith, but honestly? There is going to be a higher percentage of people faking it among the masses than among the clergy. Clergy members are generally required to go through rigorous studies and often take vows that can cause great discomfort. I am sure there are those who did it for the power - there are in atheist organizations as well, humans can be crap - but if you actually read the writings of important Church leaders of the past, not to mention rabbis, imams & mullahs, and archakas, you’re going to find that they have sincere faith.

Something you should always keep in mind when developing pre-modern religion in a Western context is that before the advent of modern scholarship, which starts to become a thing in the West during the Renaissance, all the important scholars were clergy. And again, those learned people either had to be really, really dedicated to their power-hungry ambitions or had to have sincere faith.

That does not make religions perfect by any means nor does it mean that the god they have sincere faith in is omnibenevolent (though the qualities of an omnibenevolent god will be strongly dependent on the culture that worships it). And religious leaders are absolutely capable of doing terrible, terrible things even if they profess to worship an omnibenevolent god, and politicians can definitely twist things around to suit their needs (again, this is not exclusive to religiosity). But your ask has this weird given that a major religion (on par with Catholicism/Christianity) in your world is a scam, and while yes, that happens in cults and alternative religions and in splinter groups*, as Brainstormed pointed out that’s just not how, at least, the four major religions of our world got started.

Yes, it’s true that bureaucracies of a certain size and age will inevitably begin to change focus to protecting its own existence. And yes, it’s true that ambitious sociopaths will be drawn to places of authority even if they are difficult to achieve. And yes, it’s true that an individual entering a toxic environment is more likely to be changed by the environment than to change the environment. But guess what! That has nothing to do with whether the organization is religious or not.

Why does a religion exist in the first place? It explains the universe in a pre-modern world; it provides organization and structure for community focus - in other words, many social programs have historically been run through religious organizations and leadership. And it provides hope and comfort in a very scary world.

Some clergy might be able to fake all of that for a little while, but a large bureaucracy with many clerics who are all in on the fake? No. Allow me to rephrase: hell no. People are not dumb. Maybe you believe that of all religious people, but you are wrong and they are not. The people in your world, if they’re anything like the people in our world, are gonna sniff out the bullshit if none of their religious leaders believe what they’re selling. There is a reason Scientology has to keep blackmail files on all its adherents, and I promise you, the Catholic Church does not do that.

*A note on cults, alternative religions, and splinter groups: Cults and alternative religions (their PR friendly name) are “religions” that are scammy and/or actively dangerous to the participants or others: People’s Temple, Branch Davidian, etc. Splinter groups are congregations that start as normal members of a large religion or denomination but its insular culture creates a divide that just takes things a little too far even for the most fanatical of the main sect (think terrorist groups that link themselves to religions). These types of religions might be what you are actually asking about. Groups like these can be highly, highly influential but in a very contained area. What cults often do is the leader settles in an area and buys property and builds a church and maybe a school and then encourages the members to all move either onto the plot of land if it’s large enough or to buy up surrounding land and homes and push out all the non-believers. That area can then be fortified or just have a de facto boundary with the rest of the world. Sometimes a group like this can become large enough to constitute an entire town, but rarely a city - groups that large will more often have centralized compounds but with the members living scattered among non-believers, as Scientology does. Obviously a group concentrated like that will have an impact on local politics, if they are allowed to participate, but it’s not going to go farther than the county line, so to speak. As we all know from the news, splinter groups like ISIS can become very large and globe spanning, but those types of groups have within them splinter groups and factions, and I don’t think that’s what you’re asking about anyway, so I’m just going to leave it there.

But frankly, your ask reads to me as “how do I create a fantasy!Catholic that is secretly evil and will show the audience how evil religion is in the real world? Opiate of the masses!” And my advice is… don’t. Because it lacks compassionate understanding of people of faith (many faiths), it lacks a factual understanding of how world religions differ and function, it totally lacks nuance, and finally, because it is absolutely, monumentally, extremely, really, very cliche.

Maybe the way your ask is coming across to me is totally not how you intended it. Maybe you only used the jargon you used because you assumed we wouldn’t know any other terms and maybe your understanding of world religions is actually quite sophisticated. Maybe you really do have this insanely clever way to spin a tired cliche into some new and original. In these cases, we strongly encourage you to come right back with as jargon-full and specific an ask as you can write, use our submission google form to do it. Otherwise, give our responses some thought and if after you’ve developed your religion, you want to come back with a specific ask other than “how do I world build a religion?” (which is a little too broad), please feel free.

#pylons #religion #Anonymous

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trenchcas · 4 years ago

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episode origins p1

i was watching moriah earlier today and was wondering what the significance of the name moriah was, so i searched it up. i’ll explain it here in this. i wanted to learn which episodes have titles derived from pop culture, literature, etc. so i put together this list. it’s not complete, feel free to reblog with more!

why did i waste hours on my life on this, you ask? i don’t know.

season 1

pilot: obviously, all the first episodes of shows are called pilots. nothing new here.

wendigo: they’re fighting a wendigo

dead in the water: the phrase means “unable to function, move”.

phantom traveler: the name of the demon they’re fighting

bloody mary: based off the legend

skin: shapeshifters, also there might be a meta about how it’s a metaphor for dean

hook man: they’re fighting a hook man

bugs: bugs

home: they go home

asylum: they go to an asylum

scarecrow: scarecrow

faith: the concept of god first comes into play here, i thought that was pretty interesting. that’s why it’s called faith, duh. dean + faith is explored.

route 666: racist truck yes

nightmare: sam’s visions

the benders: i think it’s based off of the bloody benders, a family of serial killers

shadow: meg’s stalkery?

hell house: it was literally a hell house

something wicked: originally chanted by WITCHES in shakespeare’s macbeth. the full line is “something wicked this way comes, open locks, whoever knocks”. obviously the shtriga is a witch and it refers to that.

provenance: painting provenances, it’s in the episode

dead man’s blood: they use dead man’s blood

salvation: being saved or protected, like the boys and john do with the family

devil’s trap: the devil gets them in a trap. and they built a giant devil’s trap too.

season two

in my time of dying: based off of the led zeppelin song [x]

everybody loves a clown: based off of the gary lewis song [x]

bloodlust: i think it’s for the vampires but they were also a band in the 90′s

children shouldn’t play with dead things: based off of the 1972 movie

simon said: the whole “you do what i say” thing with andy and evil andy

no exit: it’s a song by blondie and in the episode h.h. holmes captures blondes...? am i just clowning

the usual suspects: based off of the 1995 movie

crossroad blues: based off of the robert johnson song (fave!) [x]

croatoan: i like this one. okay, so you guys probably know about the whole roanoke/croatoan thing in the 1600′s. so there’s a theory that the settlers were wiped out by a disease (similar to this town). also, the town would disappear off of the map.

hunted: gordon hunted sam

playthings: dolls, but the little girl was the grandma’s sisters plaything

nightshifter: a shifter in the night

houses of the holy: based off of the led zeppelin song and album [x]

born under a bad sign: based off of this song [x] there are a bunch of others including jimi hendrix but...?

tall tales: yeah i think this one is self explanatory

roadkill: someone got killed on the road

heart: werewolf heart but also how sam gave his heart to madison aww also there’s a band called heart

hollywood babylon: based off of the book by the same name

folsom prison blues: based off of the johnny cash song!! [x]

what is and what should never be: based off of the led zeppelin song [x]

all hell breaks loose: yes it did

season three

the magnificent seven: based off of the pretty famous western go watch

the kids are alright: based off of the who song [x]

bad day at black rock: based off of the 1955 movie

sin city: there’s a bunch of songs but the city was sinning so

bedtime stories: they were bedtime stories

red sky at morning: the full phrase is “red sky at morning, sailors take warning”. with the theme of this ep it fits pretty well.

fresh blood: fresh blood yes

a very supernatural christmas: i’m not sure. i think it’s based off of a christmas album?

malleus maleficarum: a 1400′s book of witches. latin for “hammer of the witches”.

dream a little dream of me: i love this song! based off this: [x]

mystery spot: mystery spot

jus in bello: i can’t really explain it but here [x]

ghostfacers: g h o s t f a c e r s

long-distance call: long distance call

time is on my side: based off of the rolling stones song [x]

no rest for the wicked: a biblical quote that means “evildoers will face eternal punishment”. also, “one’s work never ceases”.

season four

lazarus rising: in the bible, lazarus is the righteous man, which makes dean the righteous man. and he rises. so.

are you there, god? it’s me, dean winchester: based off of the judy blume book (maybe?), are you there, god? it’s me, margaret.

in the beginning: they go back in time

metamorphosis: with the rugaru but also sammeh

monster movie: monsters and movies

yellow fever: referring to the disease i think, but also there are a few songs

it’s the great pumpkin, sam winchester: based off of it’s the great pumpkin, charlie brown.

wishful thinking: yeah

i know what you did last summer: dean + hell, sam + ruby. is it based off of the shawn mendes song? i don’t think it is because this came out way before the song.

heaven and hell: opposite sides meet, dean’s hell experiences.

family remains: there are remains

criss angel is a douche bag: idk?

after school special: based off of the abc program? i think?

sex and violence: there was a lot of sex. and violence.

death takes a holiday: death took a holiday

on the head of a pin: i’m not sure but this article is interesting, maybe related. probably related. [x]

it’s a terrible life: based off of it’s a wonderful life? i love that movie btw

the monster at the end of this book: ughhh! yes!!! first of all there’s a sesame street book by the same title. also, chuck actually was the monster at the end of the book! that’s crazy. insane.

jump the shark: “(of a television series or movie) reach a point at which far-fetched events are included merely for the sake of novelty, indicative of a decline in quality.“ probably the whole long lost brother thing.

the rapture: a belief that christians will rise to “meet the lord in the air”. kinda like jimmy does.

when the levee breaks: based off of the led zeppelin song [x]

lucifer rising: lucifer rose

season five

sympathy for the devil: based off of the rolling stones song [x]

good god, y’all!: cas goes to find god

free to be you and me: a marlo thomas album and the brothers split up

the end: yeah it’s the end

fallen idols: i think we get it

i believe the children are our future: a lyric from a whitney houston song

the curious case of dean winchester: based off of the short story, the curious case of benjamin button.

changing channels: channels were changed. the end.

the real ghostbusters: based on the 1985 animation

abandon all hope: the full phrase is “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” and that pretty much sums up this episode.

sam, interrupted: i’m not sure?

swap meat: meats were SWAPPED.

the song remains the same: based off of the led zeppelin song [x]

my bloody valentine: based on jensen’s movie. but also the band?

dead men don’t wear plaid: based on the 1982 movie

dark side of the moon: a pink floyd album

99 problems: that one jayz song whatever

point of no return: a 1993 movie but also the poto song hehe

hammer of the gods: based off of the 1985 book i think? it’s about led zeppelin so probably yeah.

the devil you know: means that it’s better to deal with a situation you understand than one you don’t.

two minutes to midnight: this phrase is commonly used as a countdown to a global catastrophe (i.e. the fucking apocalypse)

swan song: someone’s final performance before retirement (i think this is about both brothers because it’s sam last battle and dean’s last fight before living with lisa)

season six

exile on main st.: based off of the rolling stones album [x]

two and a half men: it was a sitcom? but idk if that’s where it’s from

the third man: based off of the 1949 noir thriller? maybe? but there were also three men so idrk

weekend at bobby’s: it was a weekend at bobbys

live free or twi-hard: based off of twilight and that bruce willis movie that i watched once way back when

you can’t handle the truth: truth goddess. soulless sam gets exposed ig

family matters: based off of the 1989 sitcom? maybe

all dogs go to heaven: based off of the 1989 movie? probably

clap your hands if you believe: i think this is an original title idk

caged heat: based off of the 1974 movie i think

appointment in samarra: probably based off of the 1934 novel of the same name

like a virgin: based off of the madonna song [x]

unforgiven: sam does unforgiven things

mannequin 3: the reckoning: not sure

the french mistake: just... just read this link [x]

and then there were none: based off of the agatha christie novel of the same name

my heart will go on: y’all all know what’s up [x]

frontierland: they went to yeehaw town

mommy dearest: based on the 1981 film? maybe?

the man who would be king: based off of the 1888 novel by rudyard kipling

let it bleed: based off of the rolling stones album/song [x]

the man who knew too much: shares a name with the 1956 film

season seven

meet the new boss: they met the new boss idk

hello, cruel world: sad sam

the girl next door: there’s a 2004 romcom with the same name

defending your life: a 1991 romcom! wow!

shut up, dr. phil: sam and dean became philanthropists idk

slash fiction: hahahahaha i think we know what it means but wHY is it called that?

the mentalists: they met a bunch of magic people wow!

season 7, time for a wedding!: more like season 7, time for a slightly r*pey episode and GARTH!

how to win friends and influence monsters: based off of the 1936 book how to win friends and influence people

death’s door: they were at death’s door idk

adventures in babysitting: based off of the 1987 movie by the same name

time after time after time: based off of the cyndi lauper song? [x]

the slice girls: prolly based off of the spice girls idk

plucky pennywhistle’s magic menagerie: yeah idk

repo man: it’s a 1984 film too

out with the old: they were fucking around with antiques

the born-again identity: obviously based off of the bourne identity which i haven’t seen in forever

party on, garth: hahaha

of grave importance: it was very important

the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo: probably based off of the movie/book the girl with the dragon tattoo.

reading is fundamental: reading is fundamental. go read a book.

there will be blood: there was blood

survival of the fittest: everybody fought idk

okay i’m gonna stop here for this one because i’m tired asf and i’ll do part 2 later

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blowingoffsteam2 · 6 years ago

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Riku’s Sacrifice | The Final World

They say once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern... and I think we’ve found one hell of a pattern that links Riku directly with the Final World and reinforces the significance of his sacrifice.

Previously @databoy-reekoo had noticed some striking similarities between Riku’s sacrifice scene, and the logo animation for the Final World (If you haven’t seen that post, please take a look at it before reading this one: x)

The sound effects are nearly identical, save for the metallic sound of the keyblade strike and some surface sounds (compare the logo sounds: x -to the original audio of the sacrifice scene: x ).

The visuals also hit the same beats- the blast of light that resembles the light coming out of Riku’s keyblade as he protects Sora from the demon tide, and the clouds rushing towards the viewer in a way that creates a tunnel-like effect very similar to the heartless rushing past.

But maybe you aren’t convinced yet that the logo animation is meant to be a reference to Riku’s sacrifice. What if I told you there’s more...that the logo animation is actually Riku’s sacrifice from beginning to end from Sora’s perspective, translated into a more symbolic replay of it.

And there’s one big, huge giveaway that makes me certain of this.

The pace of the footsteps, the pause before the blast of light and then the clouds rushing towards the camera as in a time-lapse...it all lines up perfectly. And to demonstrate even further that it’s from Sora’s perspective, compare the angle of the camera in relation to the ground and horizon line:

A near perfect match.

So we have the footsteps- Riku’s footsteps- and the blast of light- Riku’s light- that match. But there’s even more reason to believe that the clouds are also part of the replay, beyond just the visual similarities.

Normally in KH openings, water/the ocean is always used to symbolize darkness. Characters that fall to darkness are shown submerged- like Riku in KH1 or Aqua in Fragmentary Passage. But in KH3′s opening, that symbolism was nowhere to be seen. Instead, smoke/clouds were used extensively to symbolize the darkness.

At the end of the OP Sora stands alone under a dark and stormy looking sky. Then his friends start appearing and this stormy sky is transformed into a cloudy, but bright sky...and finally at the end, there are no more clouds at all.

So, in the logo animation that was already a symbolic representation of Riku’s sacrifice, it makes perfect sense to use the symbol for darkness established at the beginning of the game to represent the waves of heartless rushing past Sora and Riku. (I mentioned this on Databoy-Reekoo’s post too, but the clouds might also be in a reverse time-lapse, a reference to the fact that time is rewound after Riku’s sacrifice, showing that he was also instrumental in making that possible in the first place)

During this symbolic replay of Riku’s sacrifice, we also see these white structures growing out of the water:

Since everything else in this animation has had some underlying meaning, this shouldn’t be disregarded as just a reference to the structures we collect the pieces of Sora on a little later. As it turns out, the entire structure just so happens to be made of a very symbolically significant material; salt.

More about salt, Covenants of Salt, promises, eternal oaths and wedding ceremonies under the cut ;)

If you know what salt/halite crystals look like, it’s recognizable almost immediately. They are cube shaped, sometimes growing in more orderly cube shapes (called “hopper crystals”) and other times more haphazardly. We see both in the Final World.

There are even some small cube shaped platforms that look exactly like salt crystals under a microscope:

They could have chosen any number of materials and achieved a similar aesthetic. So, why salt? Generally speaking, salt has been a common symbol for purity, permanence (due to its preservation qualities), loyalty, and fidelity. But it goes...deeper than that (you might wanna sit down for this haha). Keep in mind that in the logo animation, the structures of salt are growing during Riku’s sacrifice.

Friendship:

“Salt was widely and variably used as a symbol and sacred sign in ancient Israel Numbers 18:19 and 2 Chronicles 13:5 illustrate salt as a covenant of friendship”.- x

“The Arabic expression, “There is salt between us” and “He has eaten of my salt,” both represent the cementing of a friendship.” - x

Promises and Oaths:

In ancient times the Covenant of Salt was a common way of sealing an agreement or promise between two people or parties. Because of this, salt and promises are very closely associated.

“Once you gave your word on a deal, you secured it by taking some salt out of your little salt pouch and putting it into the pouch of the person you were making the deal with. You could break your word whenever you wanted–you simply had to remove your exact grains of salt from his bag of salt. Impossible. Your word was your Word. A vow was a vow. No breaking it.”

“To some, the salt covenant was much more than a covenant of friendship. It is an irrevocable pledge and promise of fidelity. Those who have taken salt together would rather die before they would break their covenant.”

“Today in many Arab cultures, if two men partake of salt together they are sworn to protect one another.”

The Covenant of Salt also has roots in the Bible, as God is said to have made a “covenant of salt” with the Aaronic priesthood and the Davidic kings of Israel:

“According to the New Oxford Annotated Bible, "of salt" most likely means that the covenant is "a perpetual covenant, because of the use of salt as a preservative" x

A perpetual covenant...and eternal oath.

Marriage:

With such deep roots in the idea of eternal oaths it’s no surprise then that the Covenant of Salt is also fairly common in wedding ceremonies, as a permanent sealing of commitment to one another.

“This is a bond that can not be broken and is a symbol of an unbreakable promise of love.” x

Remember how Chikai is a song about marriage and an eternal oath? Funny how that works, huh.

Alright, so bringing this back around, why would Nomura use something so symbolically loaded and associate it with Riku’s sacrifice? His sacrifice demonstrated his incredible love for Sora, but...what if it’s more than that? Maybe...just maybe, Riku fulfilled a forgotten promise he had made long ago- a promise to protect Sora (Theory Link: x) - or is “remaking” it. Remember this poem from the end of Riku’s story in Chain of Memories?

GBA CoM version:

Walking this road without you to remake forgotten promises and meet you at road’s end.

Re:CoM version:

Beyond the path without you is a forgotten promise to keep.

We may have walked side by side, but now we go on back to back.

And though our paths may not cross, all paths are connected somewhere.

When I arrive at where you are, we may not appear to be as we were…

But we’ll make another promise to keep

The “road” or “path” refers to the road to dawn that Riku chose at the end of CoM. In KH3, Riku’s Way to Dawn keyblade breaks, signifying that he has reached the end of that path, reached dawn (literally, the break of dawn hah). And according to these poems, at road’s end another promise is to be made. A promise for what, exactly, I don’t know. But if the symbolism of salt is any indication, it’s an oath of love and devotion that can’t be broken.

Edit:

Connections to Scala ad Caelum: x

#soriku #kh #kingdom hearts #kh theories #kh analysis #the final world #covenant of salt #kh3 #Riku's Sacrifice #Riku is the light

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ourloveisforthelovely · 5 years ago

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Copperhead Road 1

Supernatural RPF AU Story

Request from an annon reader: Will you write a prohibition 1920′s story with Richard Speight Jr and the supernatural cast?

Author’s comment: I hope you enjoy! I think I will be able to stretch this out into the multiple parts that you asked for :) Crediting the movie Fried Green Tomatoes for using a line in the movie that worked so well in this story.

Words: 3,724

Pairings: Richard Speight Jr x Reader

________

What am I thinking?

It was the only thought that could go through your mind as you stared across the churchyard at Richard. You knew loving him was a bad idea! Sneaking around behind your father’s back was probably even worse! You swallowed looking at your father, the pastor of the local church, who was in an animated conversation with a member of the church.

This is really bad!

You couldn’t help but nervously fan yourself. It was hot in Nashville for June! Hot sticky and with all of the internal panicking you were doing it seemed to be closing in on you! Swallowing, you nervously glanced across the yard again. This time Richard’s eyes were glued to you. He raised an eyebrow as you quickly looked away.

“Hello, Y/n.”

You quickly looked to your side seeing your sister in law, Danneel.

“Danneel, hi. I didn’t think that you would be here.”

She smiled, clearly ignoring your mother and father’s less than enthusiastic expressions.

“It's a town social, Y/n. Everyone comes to these things. Can we talk alone?”

You nodded and quickly followed her. This time not looking to your parents for approval because you knew that you wouldn’t be getting it. Your eyes were focused on Danneel’s back. That familiar sense of sadness washed over you again. You loved Danneel. Adored was a better word but you didn’t see her much.

What was the reason...booze. Prohibition was probably a better way to look at it. After prohibition started, you seemed to have lost touch with a good chunk of your family. Jensen had gotten involved in alcohol running and was, for lack of a better term, kicked out of the family. You were devastated when it happened! It didn’t matter how much you begged your father to reconsider; he wouldn’t. To him, alcohol was the pathway to all evil. The fact that his son was involved in it was unforgivable. Your father’s close-minded attitude was no shock to you but it didn’t make the pain disappear.

Jensen, however, didn’t seem to mind. He was making more money for his family than he ever was working his old job. The two of you would see each other from time to time. It was mostly when you would sneak off to your brother’s home to make sure that the police hadn’t hauled him off to jail.

This is where Richard came in...It was no secret to everybody in town that Richard’s family was one of the biggest bootlegging families in town. How he hadn’t been arrested was still a mystery to you. The law seemed to be looking the other way whenever he was concerned. Was it the money that he brought in a donated for good causes? That was the best that you could come up with.

He was the type of man that your mother would have a heart attack if you showed interest in. Your father would have probably had you committed. You didn’t care though...at least not when you were with Richard. When you were at home with your holier than thou family members it was a different story. You were questioning everything..especially when your father started going on and on about secrets.

Your father would have probably hit the floor if he knew that you had met Richard at one of Jensen and Danneel’s parties. When you were with Richard, you didn’t feel like the stupid Mary Sue that your parents made you feel like. Richard seemed to “value” you in a way that no one else seemed to.

Sneaking around for 5 months had been the most devious and draining experience of your life! You were not afraid to say that you were in love with Richard. What scared you was the implications of this little love affair. If you agreed to marry Richard, like he wanted, you would be subjected to a lifetime of worry. You would be a nervous wreck every time that Richard left the house. What if he turned up dead or arrested? Would you be able to handle that? Were you really that strong of a person?

You didn’t think so. That is what led to you breaking things off with Richard. It had been two weeks and you still felt like you couldn’t breathe. It didn’t help that he was sending you multiple bouquets of flowers a day. You were running out of excuses and lies to tell your parents. Your father rolled his eyes and would go back to reading his bible. While your mother would give you a knowing look that made your stomach churn.

“Whoever the man is, he sure has some feelings for you. Are you sure that you don’t have any clue idea who it is?”

You would shake your head and quickly attempt to change the subject.

“I think that you know why I am here.”

Danneel’s voice tore you from your thoughts. You quickly met your sister in law’s sweet smile. She was such a pretty woman, inside and out. It was a shame that your parents were so set in their ways that they wouldn't give her a chance. In the past few months, you finally were able to reconnect with her.

“Richard sent you.”

You muttered. Danneel nodded.

“He doesn’t understand what exactly happened between the two of you. He is pathetically in love with you and I know that you are in love with him. If this is about your parents….”

You held a hand up.

“Danneel, you know mine and Jensen’s parents. If my father found out that I was dating Richard....well...you know him!”

Danneel smiled.

“Maybe it is time that you start living your own life, like your brother? Y/n, over the past few months, I have seen a side of you that I never have before. You seem to be free and happy.”

You pressed your lips together.

“What if Richard gets tired of me? You know that if I chose to be with him, my father would have nothing to do with me ...”

Danneel gave you a warm motherly smile as she reached out and squeezed your hand.

“I think that you are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. I don’t think Richard would get tired of you. That should be the farthest worry from your mind.”

You sighed.

“What if he gets arrested or killed? Danneel, I am no fool. I know that you have the same worry about Jensen. I see it in your eyes every time he goes for a run.”

That serious expression that you had seen on her face so many times returned. She was silent for a moment before taking a reassuring breath.

“I don’t worry as much since he has started working for Richard. Y/n, this isn’t about me. This is about you. If you choose Richard, you know that Jensen and I would be there for you too. Your brother won’t let anything happen to you. Think about it okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay. I have to get back.”

You wrapped your arms around Danneel. Having no idea how long it would be before you saw here again; you wanted to savor the moment. Danneel stroked her hand over your face.

“Stay sweet.”

Danneel turned to walk in the opposite direction. She stopped and turned back to you with an amused smile.

“You’re lucky that I was the one to come talk to you. Richard wanted to send Matt and Rob.”

The two of you exchanged an amused smirk. If Richard had sent his two right-hand men it would have been funny and awkward. Rob got so nervous around women that he would start stuttering then Matt would be trying to take care of him. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

“See you soon.”

(1 ½ hours later)

Richard stood in his mother’s kitchen looking out at the yard. He had been in a sour mood since he had seen you earlier. For the past two weeks, he had been angrier than ever before. It didn’t matter that Jensen told him that he would send Danneel to talk to you. What was going to happen if Danneel didn’t get through? If she didn’t, apparently no one would.

I sure as hell am not getting anywhere

Richard thought coldly. He was still trying to figure out just what happened between the two of you. Everything was fine...perfect was more like it! You were the first woman that he really had any interest or time for. Between working and dealing with keeping the police off of his ass, Richard didn’t have the time to fool with any of the gossipy women in the town. You were different. To Richard, you were the forbidden fruit that he wasn’t supposed to have. A preacher’s daughter wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone like him...but you did.

That was what stumped Richard the most. You seemed to be totally in love with him. In the course of five months, you had seemed to throw every one of your families “values” out the window to sneak and see him.

“You need to let that girl go.”

Richard turned around to look at his mother. She sat with a book open in front of her. Richard sighed.

“It isn’t that easy, mama.”

His mother smiled softly.

“I know that you love her. I am not that insensitive, son. You’re a very smart man. I think you know that her father will raise holy hell if he finds out that his daughter is dating you. Our family doesn’t have that much regard in their social circles.”

Richard rolled his eyes and sat down across from his mother. Normally, he wouldn’t talk like this in front of his mother but today was different.

“Her father can kiss my ass.”

His mother shot him that look of parental contempt.

“Richard, you need to stop. Her father is a man of god. No matter his feelings on us or if he's two-faced as hell, he is still Y/n’s father. What if it was your daughter?”

Richard snorted.

“I don’t think that we have to worry about that happening do we?”

“It's a fair question.”

Richard stared at his mother quietly. If she was anyone but his mother….he would have given her an earful.

“If she was my daughter, I would want her to be happy. I can take care of her. She wouldn’t want for anything. Fine mama, you have a point! I know being with us would be dangerous but damn it I am in love with her.”

Before his mother could respond Jensen walked into the kitchen with Rob behind him. Richard almost jumped out of his chair.

“Did Danneel talk to Y/n?”

Jensen held a hand up.

“Have a drink or something! Yes, she talked to her. Y/n is in love with you but she’s worried about the lifestyle.”

Richard frowned.

“What’s your opinion?”

Jensen shrugged.

“I’m not worried about the lifestyle. We are doing just fine. Y/n still gives a damn about what our folks think too. She needs to stop worrying about what people think. She always does the right thing. Y/n takes care of all of those kids at the church school. She’s gonna take care of mama and dad when they get sick. That is just Y/n. You had to go falling in love with the nicest girl on the planet. Richard, the nicest girl on the planet is still a kid in a lot of ways...but...you would be good to her. I wouldn’t have to worry about you mistreating her. A lot of these bastards in this town that have their eyes on her...I don’t want them to even think about touching her. You want my opinion, go to my parents and sweep her off her feet before some other fool does. Save us both the heartache and worry.”

Richard thought about Jensen’s comment for a minute.

“And get myself shot?”

Jensen chuckled.

“My dad doesn’t know how to work a weapon. We both know that. You should do something.”

(Later that night)

You lay in bed looking at the ceiling. After returning home, you quickly excused yourself upstairs. Claiming that you weren’t feeling well seemed like the best idea. Your mother assumed that it was just the heat getting to you and agreed that turning in would be in your best interest.

The sound of something lightly hitting your window caught your attention. You lay until the second and third tap hit your window. As quietly as possible you opened the window to see Richard standing looking up to you.

You quickly looked over your shoulder as if you were checking to make sure your parents were asleep. It was 11. You knew that they were sleeping hard at this point. Looking over your shoulder was to make yourself feel better.

Turning your attention back to Richard, you took a breath.

“What are you doing here?”

You hissed quietly. Richard raised an eyebrow.

“I need to talk to you about apparently this is the only way to do it!”

You knew that he was angry. He had every right to be in too. The break up was so quick that you didn’t give him a chance to ask questions!

Opening our window a little wider, you motioned him forward.

“They are asleep. If you can keep your voice down come in here.”

Richard rolled his eyes. This had to be the most unorthodox childish thing that he had done in some time!

The things I would do for this girl…

Richard thought as he hoisted himself into the window. You stood looking at him with trembling hands. He fought the urge to say something sassy.

“Hi.”

You squeaked. Richard put a hand over his face before glancing out the window. He didn’t like the height difference from your window to the ground.

“Hi? Hi? After all of this crap the past two weeks...all I get is a hi? Darlin, I am getting awful old to be climbing in windows for only a hi.”

You didn’t smile. In fact, you didn’t seem to register his words at all. Richard was no fool. You were a nervous wreck! The expression on your face was a mirror to your soul.

“Y/n, I’ve missed you. You looked awful pretty today.”

You smiled. God, you missed this man! It was taking all that you had not to run to him.

“You didn’t come all the way over here to tell me that I looked pretty. I talked to Danneel.”

Richard smiled.

“And?”

You threw your hands up.

“What do you want me to say, Rich?”

Richard's frown intensified.

“I want you to tell me that you want me as much as I want you. Y/n, I know what you are worried about and nothing is going to happen to me or you. I think that I of all people know how to keep someone safe. I want to marry you. I don’t give a damn what your parents have to say either. If we have to elope, that's fine with me too.”

Eloping? Wow, that would be the way to push your parents over the edge! The rebellious daughter that had always wanted to come out was jumping with glee. The “good girl”, however, was less than amused.

Richard smiled before reaching out and pressing a kiss to your lips. You stood motionless for a moment before wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you stood in silence just enjoying the physical contact.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think about it for the next day or so, if the answer is yes...you know where to find me. Just know that if you say yes...I’ll make you very happy.”

Richard gave you one more kiss before looking at the window.

“Well, time to get out of here. Hope to see you soon sugar.”

________

#Supernatural RPF #Richard Speight JR #Jenson Ackles #Matt Cohen #Rob Benedict #richard speight jr rpf #Richard Speight Jr x Reader #RPF #Jared Padalecki #Copperhead Road

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tessatechaitea · 5 years ago

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Kid Eternity #2

This cover says, "Don't look at who wrote it! Just look at how interesting these visuals are! Sucker."

In my review of Kid Eternity #1, I threw out a few theories on why Ann Nocenti's writing is so weird. After reading page one of this issue, I've thrown those theories out again but in a different way. That makes complete sense if you understand English idioms and also understand that everything Ann Nocenti writes is basically pre-trash.

This is page one of Kid Eternity #2 and it will probably get this review banned on Tumblr.

I have a new theory: Ann Nocenti asked what a Vertigo comic book should be and editor Tom Peyer probably joked, "They're mostly tits and profound nonsense." So Ann Nocenti's vagina gobbed in her underwear and she squealed with glee. "That's what I do!" she chortled merrily! I probably shouldn't abuse Ann Nocenti for writing things I don't understand. I have plenty of choices of other people to abuse for it: my elementary school teachers for not calling me out on doing just enough to get by; my junior high school teachers who let me get away with not putting any effort into big year-end projects (In science, we were supposed to make a stone age tool. I rubber glued a carved-to-a-shoddy point stick to another stick (which was worse than my friend Robert who put some pine needles into a split stick, calling the weapon "Ow"); in English, we had one project based on Romeo and Juliet (because all we did that quarter was watch and read various versions of the play) and I refused to do it because the teacher was wasting my time; in Computers, I found Dan Felipe's project, a trivia program, and I just copied it and used it for my own project (changing all the questions and line numbers and other things to make it seem like it wasn't plagiarized but, I mean, come on! In fairness to me, I only did it because the stupid fucking school changed computers halfway through the semester, dropping the TRS-80s for Apples and my project was relying on the Poke images of the TRS-80 to create an animated sequence)); my high school English teacher, Mr. Borror, for reading nearly everything I wrote in front of the class so that I began to think I was the wittiest fucker in Santa Clara High; my college teachers for some reason or another that allows me to not blame my own lack of ability; and probably my parents because if they were any good at their parental jobs, I wouldn't be writing a blog about comic books. In other words, I'm sure Ann Nocenti is a philosophical genius while I'm just a guy who blames everybody else for things I don't understand. Even if I truly felt Ann Nocenti was an underrated genius whose writings I'm incapable of parsing, I would never ask her to explain what she meant by this first page of Kid Eternity #2. I just wouldn't feel comfortable putting her on the spot like that. It's not up to the artist to explain their art to the foolish audience! Only the Christian Messiah bears that responsibility (and, let's face it, he wouldn't have had to explain every fucking parable if he'd been able to convince smarter people of his bullshit). So if it's up to me to interpret this first page gibber gabber, I suppose I should get to business. Or kill myself. I mean, killing myself would be easier and less painful. And I totally would kill myself before reading more Ann Nocenti comic books except I have plans to cut my toenails in a few months. Before I begin trying to understand this hogwash, I'd like to point out that if she'd written it as a sonnet, I wouldn't have a problem with it. I'd read it, think, "Yep, that's a sonnet!", nod my head in sage understanding, and then jerk off to the titties. But this is not a sonnet so it is not allowed to be obtuse simply for obtuseness' sake. So this fucking speech. First off, who is speaking? The serpent trying to fuck the naked lady? Is this the speech the serpent used on Eve to get her to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil? Although if that's the case, how would talking about Buddha convince Eve of anything? I'll assume the serpent is omniscient (because he may or may not be Satan, depending on what holy men or con artists you believe but certainly isn't Satan if you're simply going by the Book of Genesis. I bet the serpent was God doing one of those Zeus things minus the rape. Zeus loved to trick people so he could get laid; Yahweh tricks people to test their faith). I guess since she had yet to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (come on, God! That name is terrible), she wouldn't know what she doesn't know and can't defend against any nonsense the serpent spews at her. Let's assume the art goes with the speech and it's the serpent speaking. So why is "God in repair" and what the fuck does that mean? And why is it followed by the statement, "Why not call the wisest man a freak?" Does the snake only speak in non sequiturs? Was that a stupid question since I already know the snake's dialogue is being written by Ann Nocenti? It is kind of refreshing to see that her dialogue style never changed in thirty years. The shit the serpent says on this page could be nonsense spewed by Coil from Nocenti's New 52 Katana. You know what? I don't have to continue this because, in the end, it's just a carnival barker's pitch to get people to believe in the freaks in his freak show. He's all, "What's the difference between freaks and religion?!" That's not a riddle I have an answer for. The only religious joke I know is "What do Noah's Ark and The Bible have in common?" That might be a joke that was extant before I came up with it but I did come up with it on my own. And I think the answer is so obvious I would be insulting the intelligence of all four people reading this. Oh, and the snake trying to fuck the lady? It's a tattoo on the Tattooed Lady. The reason the comic begins in a circus freak show? Because Kid Eternity is the newest freak on display! The opening sideshow scene is just one of Kid Eternity's dreams. The demon angel babies get into Kid Eternity's dream and when he wakes up, they've tied his hair to the floor which totally has him trapped for like three panels. That was a close one! Kid Eternity decides he can't truly know what he's doing unless he utterly knows himself. So it's time to get his brain probed.

Let me guess: Carl will blather on about synchronicity and dreams while Freud tries to figure out how big Kid Eternity's penis is.

Carl doesn't initially discuss anything. He's just the straight man for Freud saying all the typical things you'd expect Freud to say: penis this, envy that, fuck your mom, kill your dad, more penises, many more penises, everything is penises. But then he comes on fast and furious with his archetypes and collective unconscious and human mythology stuff, all the biggest Carl Jung hits (aside from synchronicity but I'm sure he'll get around to that later. Ann Nocenti isn't going to miss showing the readers all the knowledge nuggets she mined to make her brain big). If only Nocenti would spend as much time writing the story as she spends making sure the readers know she knows a lot of shit then maybe I would have kept reading this comic book. Meanwhile, Zeus wanders around looking for somebody to trick fuck, Madame Blavatsky hunts down the next best burger before she slips back to the past, Beelzebub and Judas wander through Limbo, Jesus gets drunk and falls off a bar stool, and a phone yells at a woman. That all happens on one page to make sure the reader remembers other things are happening. But why does Ann Nocenti spend two panels of that dense page on Madame Blavatsky when she could have updated the reader on the non-X-File FBI agents who will probably hate fuck each other before the story ends? I also wanted an update on the Buddha Christ Trash Child. But no! Instead Nocenti just moves on to more of her proof that she's read all about Freud and Jung and totally understands the shallow top layer of their theories and philosophies. I don't mean to say I know any more than Ann Nocenti! But I understand how little I know of Freud and everything she's had him say are things everybody knows about Freud from all the dirty jokes about him: ids, supermen, parental relations, and phalli!

Oh, that's why we didn't get an update on the dense update page; Nocenti needed a full page to document the hate/fuck.

My new Ann Nocenti writing theory: Ann Nocenti has never had an original thought. She simply reads things, takes copious notes of bits and quotes she likes, and then shoves them sideways into whatever script she's currently writing. No wait. She does have original thoughts but they're almost not worth having. Like "everything in life is a prison" and then proving it by stating a few things about life that can be cell-like. It's profound in that way that things are profound when you're on acid. If you don't think about it, you can find yourself nodding along going, "Yeah! Yeah! Everything is a prison! Life is a fucking prison!" But if you do stop to think about it, it's like coming down off acid. You start to see how that thought you had about how the number three ties everything else in the universe together because of the way the corners meet didn't wasn't as mind blowing as it was six hours ago. Although the rant you went on about how pressing play on the VCR remote play the show and pressing pause pauses it but then to unpause it you have to hit pause again when you should really hit play was pretty fucking good. Speaking of acid, I'm two-thirds of the way through the acid documentary on Netflix and it's fucking fantastic. I wasn't really thinking a lot about it but I was nodding along going, "Yeah! Yeah! Everything they're saying about acid is absolutely spot on!" throughout. I actually had to take a break because it was making me too happy listening to all Sting and Carrie Fisher tell their acid stories. I don't know why I didn't just spend five paragraphs discussing why the FBI agents were playing Scrabble while they fucked. It's probably just one of Sean Phillips' kinks. Oh, maybe they were just playing Scrabble and not hate-fucking. It's hard to tell because on the next page, Jerry asks Val if they can finally fuck and Val is all, "You're a nerd!" Then she slits his throat. But then in the next panel, his throat isn't slit and he's all, "You feeling better?" And she's all, "Yeah!" So I don't know what the fuck is going on and I don't really care. I've still got like eight pages of this mess to get through and I'd rather just nod along than try to understand it. And then just like last issue, Ann Nocenti sputters out a bit of writing that I totally agree with because I've said basically the same thing before. About how every day, I fall in love with some person I see on the street because of the smallest of things. And then I love them forever.

My story isn't as good but I once fell in love walking through the airport in Minneapolis. I was passing by an attractive woman and she was gazing off somewhere as I looked at her face. She was coming up on my right and then I glanced down at her breasts and back up at her face. And that was the moment she noticed me, as I glanced from her breasts to her face. And, catching me, she smiled and laughed and kept on walking. And I still love her to this day.

And for this page alone, I forgive all of Ann Nocenti's past (future?) transgressions and find myself eager to read Kid Eternity #3. Oh wait. I still have a few pages left in this piece of crap. I read a lot of books in college that I sometimes still say are my favorite books but I should probably just say they stuck with me because I know which books are almost always in my top five and a lot of the ones in college aren't those. But Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence always stuck with me. It's possible that I completely missed the message of the novel but to me, the book was about how true love only exists when it's unrequited. Archer Day-Lewis doesn't love Ellen Pfeifer more than May Ryder for any other reason than that she was the one he didn't marry. It seemed to me that Wharton was trying to portray how hard love is and true, phenomenal love only exists in the imagination. Only a love we can imagine can remain magical. Only when we love an object, or the imaginary person we've placed on a pedestal, can we evade disappointment in the reality and flaws of another actual human being. Being in love with Ellen Pfeifer was easy because she wasn't there for all those years. There were no fights or disappointments or multiple times accidentally walking in on her taking a huge shit. She was pure and beautiful and imaginary. But then again, maybe that wasn't the point of the book at all. I was young and romantic at the time and I still absolutely loved the women I'd had unrequited crushes on in junior high and high school while my college relationship was slowly circling the drain due to personality conflicts. But not due to sex. The sex was fucking great! Anyway, Freud and Jung decide Kid Eternity is in denial and they leave. Hemlock and Dog spread some new reality across the world via a computer virus. Madame Blavatsky starts making time go backwards, probably so she can vomit up all the Twinkies she ate and eat them again with their delicious creamy filling. And the devil and Judas wind up in a bar in Limbo with Jesus to make plans for Kid Eternity. There's probably a lot more going on but there'd be too much for me to process even if it wasn't confused by Nocenti's writing style. No wonder I gave up on this book after three issues. There's no way by the third issue I could remember anything that was going on, if I even understood it the month prior. Kid Eternity #2 Rating: C-. A confusing mess that's about 90% Ann Nocenti just vomiting out things she's read. Even the things that, with the benefit of the doubt, I want to believe sprang from her own philosophical musings, I can't bring myself to absolutely believe it. I feel like every thought and piece of dialogue she's placed in this story just came from piles of notebooks filled with notes she's made while reading other people's works. It's practically a collage of philosophical ideas and moral musings pulled from myriad sources and shoved into a Kid Eternity framework "written" by Ann Nocenti. Which could explain Nocenti's penchant for stilted dialogue. If she were making up all the character's thoughts, the dialogue would flow from one character to the next. But when each character can only respond with some profound thought Nocenti read elsewhere, it comes across like a ransom note, each word cut from the mind of somebody else and pasted as a reply to another bit cut from some other thinker, no relation existing between the two thoughts except the proximity relationship Nocenti has given them.

#Kid Eternity #Vertigo #Ann Nocenti #Sean Phillips

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libramonthlyhoroscope1 · 2 years ago

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80 angel number

Numerology refers to the mystical connection between numbers, physical entities, and objects. Although the first creators of the numerological system, as we know, were mathematicians, numerology is not a mathematical discipline, but something much more. Contemporary numerology still contains ancient Babylonian teachings, as well as parts of the philosophy of Christian mysticism and the Hebrew religion. Angel numerology also found it to be the most accurate and definitive type of numerology.

The angel number is our essence and represents the possibility of taking our maximum in this life, and it is often hidden from others, but sometimes also from ourselves (numbers help us find the right path).

80 angel number

Everything that is written about angel numbers, our strengths and weaknesses can be permanently altered or corrected, because the goal is, as we said before, to achieve the maximum possible in life.

In angel number 80 we find many interesting aspects.

Angel number 80 and numerology - what does it mean?

Angel number 80 can be described as a diligent, disciplined, and self-controlled person, someone who hides his feelings and tends to isolate himself from others. Most loners are angel number 80; they are unpredictable for themselves, much less for others because they are born rebellious.

They have trouble opening up to others and usually expect their environment to understand them without saying a word, which is difficult and unrealistic.

Such strange and closed behavior is not very popular, and then there is nervousness. In that state of mind, they become even more withdrawn and distant. It is interesting that they are neither self-centered nor selfish, but introverted.

It is clear that number 80 shows the fear of rejection and the tendency to dishonesty in close relationships that some people have. They want to be accepted by others, but by hiding their real emotions, they experience a lot of internal turmoil.

Some recommend angel number 80 to work with animals like a vet or zoo keeper because it is challenging for people who are angel number 80 to find a common language with other humans.

Also, it is highly recommended that angel number 80 try to discover and learn self-discipline and strict principles; Angel number 80 is also advised to focus more on your family members, so that realization will bring you inner happiness.

Secret meaning and symbolism

To understand number 80, we must look at number 80 through its constituent elements - 8 and 0. These numbers give number 80 its persistence, rigor, vitality and curiosity and spirit of leadership.

Part of the meaning of the number 80 comes from the fact that it can represent the start or duration of freedom from oppressors.

Moses was 80, and his older brother Aaron was 83, when they challenged Pharaoh to free the children of Israel from their bondage (Exodus 7:7). Moses, whom God blessed by not having his strength or eyesight diminish as he aged, lived to the age of 120 (Deuteronomy 34:7).

Ehud was a rare left-handed warrior in ancient Israel. He freed the people from eighteen years of Moabite oppression by killing their king and rallying the Israelites around his cause. After his victory, he was Israel's Judge for 80 years, the longest person to serve in the position (Judges 3:12 - 4:1).

Appearances of the number eighty

King Solomon, according to the Bible, used 80,000 (80 x 1000) aliens living in Israel to dig stones out of quarries that would be used to build God's temple in Jerusalem (1Kings 5:15, 2Chronicles 2:17 - 18).

Solomon states that a particular woman he loved was more precious than 60 queens, 80 concubines and an innumerable number of virgins (Song of Solomon 6:8).

A man named Ishmael, after he murdered Babylon's governor over Judah, killed eighty men who came to Jerusalem to mourn its destruction (Jeremiah 41:5).

Lifespans and the number 80

The only Psalm which credits Moses for writing it is Psalm 90 (see verse 1). In his prayerful hymn to God, he declares that humans live an average of 70 years. If, however, they are strong, they can live to be the ripe old age of 80.

Moses' statement that humans live seventy to eighty years, even though made more than 3,500 years ago, is surprisingly accurate today!

According to the CIA Factbook, the life expectancy in the world is almost 70 years (69.8). Men live an average of close to 68 years and women average living to 72. In the United States, a male can expect to live almost 78 years with females living to 82. The average for those in America is 80.

The two countries in the world with the highest average life expectancy are Japan and Singapore. Their citizens can expect to live 5.5 more years than the U.S. average of 80

King Uzziah of Judah, after winning several battles against his enemies, became a strong and respected leader who was well-known abroad (2Chronicles 26:1 - 15). He soon, however, became filled with vanity and pride. In an impulsive act, he attempted to offer incense at Jerusalem's temple, a ceremony only priests could perform

Azariah the High Priest, along with eighty other priests, confront Uzziah in the temple over his intentions. The king, as he grew angry with the priests, was struck with leprosy (2Chronicles 26).

One of Jesus' many parables was of an unjust steward who was told he would be fired (Luke 16). Before leaving his position, he reduced the debt of several who owed his boss. One person had their debt lessened from 100 to 80 measures of wheat (Luke 16:7). The parable was given to underscore a Christian's responsibility to use, as wisely as possible, the resources he has been given (verses 10 - 13).

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darkling-er · 6 years ago

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Hope’s Savior ( John Seed x OC ) | Part 13

Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!

Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later

Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!

Word Counter: 5610

Notes: Okay, so the story from here will change a lot. I mean the mood of it. Hope will go through some serious character change ( for the worse or the better who knows ) and I will abandon the canon story. In a lot of places, but try to stay true the Far Cry mood. Anyways other notes down belows! ♥

Hope got into her truck as quickly as she could, guns ready. She could win a race against Adam at the speed she is going. Her mind and thoughts racing as well. What if they are already dead? But she shakes her head, they can’t be dead! They are not dead!

In another situation, if her friends lives weren’t at stake she would laugh. John literally kidnap her a day before and now he wants to confront her again. I would be flattered if he wasn’t trying to kill my people.

The engine’s sound is all she can hear along the road. No random peggies trying to kill her on the way. No one is out, not even animals. Like nature itself knows what’s about to go down. But does she know? Does she really know what will happen? And if it were come to that, could she really kill John Seed?

As she reaches Fall’s End she can hear the church bell ringing. So dramatic. Mostly creepy. Hope parks at the side of the road and as she walks toward Jerome’s church she watches the crows flying around the building. A peggie truck is set there, red carpet along the way to the door. Bliss pedals all around the carpet, a white arch, decorated with bliss flowers and white materials.

The church itself is decorated with dead crows and a peggie symbol hanging from the bell tower.

“Jesus Christ...” She mutters as she looks at the scenery.

She feels even more creeped out when she was approaching Joseph’s church back when they arrived in Hope County. This feels more fucked up...

Her mind trying to make the situation light thinks: Is this my wedding day? But even her weird humor is not working at this moment.

As she slowly walks toward the closed door she crouches down next to a guy who is on the ground. He’s dead of course. She stands back up, weapon ready to fire if someone decides to show up in front of her.

As soon as she opens the door though a peggie readies his weapon and before she could do anything she’s hit in the head, unconscious, not even given the time to say: ‘Fuck.’

Her head is pounding and she can’t feel her body as she starts to wake up. If she didn’t have a concussion yet she sure as shit does now. Hope groans a couple of times before opening her eyes, facing a gun pointed at her head.

For a second or so she doesn’t even know where she is and how she got there, only thing she knows that her wound on her head is bleeding again.

It takes another second to realize she’s in the church at Fall’s End and that the peggie standing above her is standing right on her throat, making her hungry for air. The man seems to realize that as well as he raises his boot from her, making the young woman gasp for air.

Then as she looks down, well still above her, she looks at a concentrated John Seed. What is he doing? Just as she thinks her hearing and sight becomes clear. A drill sound coming from too close and a sharp sting on her chest, right under her collar bone.

Hope grabs the man arm in an awkward way, trying to push him away, but she can’t feel her limbs right, feeling weak.

John takes the tattoo gun away from her, looking down at the junior deputy.

“Hold still... It’s supposed to say ‘Wrath’ not... ‘rat’.”

He says and then continues to work on her skin. Getting an unwanted tattoo is one thing. Also getting it screwed up? Nah, thank you. So she releases his arm and just lays there on the ground. Taking whatever he has to give her.

But it can’t happen in silence, no he has to speak through it of course. It wouldn’t be John Seed if he wasn’t talking while carving a word into her skin. He started while she was unconscious, not fair...

“Sin must be exposed so it may be absolved. If we hide our sin, we hide ourselves...”

Hope looks down at his shirt, at the word Sloth, but most importantly at the key dangling from his neck. The key to the bunker! John smiles a bit as he looks into her eyes then back to his work.

She doesn’t exactly feel the whole thing thanks to her head wound, but he seems to push it harder against her skin, watching her breath quicken at the contact.

“You will not hide any longer. Your true self will spill out on this floor for all to see.”

And as she makes a muffled groan of pain he pulls the tattoo gun away from her, a wicked smile on his face, a smile with shark teeth.

“Aaaah...” He says and puts down the tattoo gun next to her on the wooden floor and pats her thigh a bit as he stands up, towering over her, then backing up, admiring his own handiwork.

Hope doesn’t want to look. She has a feeling it won’t stay on her long so what would be the point anyway. She sits up looks at the people for the first time in the church.

Pastor Jerome and Mary May standing in the back at, in front of the altar. Behind them peggies pointing guns at them. On the left side Nick, without his shirt, a cultist standing behind him holding a gun against his head.

On the right side on the floor Adam and Liza, both bloody and in pain, Adam lying on the floor, Liza crouching next to him, trying to comfort the man.

Fuck... Hope thinks. She wasn’t fast enough, John seemed to have his fun before her.

Two peggies sitting in the benches, one on the left one on the right side. A peggie staning next to John as he backs up, holding a Book of Joseph.

“Perfect.” John exhales, looking down at Hope’s chest.

He giggles, the only sound that can be heard in the church, echoing through the air. Arms open, kind of mimicing Joseph Seed’s posture.

“If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, then bring the mountain to Mohammed.”

Hope grimaces and rolls her eyes, already having enough of his dramatic bullshit for the day.

“Oh, spare me...” She mutters, but it’s clear and loud thanks to the creepy silence.

“Let’s begin.” John turns around, taking the Book of Joseph from the cultist next to him, who then comes to Hope and not very nicely pulls her up to her feet with the help of the peggie who was standing on her when she woke up.

Being held by two men and her still light and weak feeling not going away makes her do what they want her to do, walk up to the altar with them before John.

As she gets closer to Mary May, Jerome and Nick she looks at them carefully. Mary’s face being beaten up, bruises on her. Jerome holding the Bible in his hands, being without a shirt as well as Nick, his chest bloody. And as she looks at his wound Hope winces as John slaps the Book of Joseph on the Pastor’s injury. Fucker...

The younger Seed brother slaps the Bible out of his hands down to the floor and it lands at Hope’s boots. While he gives the Book of Joseph to Jerome, who holds it now.

Mary May looks at Hope and whispers a ‘sorry’. But why? Hope doesn’t know. She is the one that should be sorry. She riled up the Baptist and now it’s her fault they are all here.

“I thought a friendly face might make your Atonement easier...” John says, holding Jerome’s shoulder, leaning his head right next to the Pastor’s ear.

“Our devoted...” He waits as nothing happens, slightly raising his eyebrows. The peggie holding the gun smacks Jerome’s other hand with the gun. “We are gathered here to bear witness...”

John continues but is left to silence again. But he’s not a patient man as he sighs and motions to the cultist holding the gun on Jerome. The man smacks him hard with his gun on his face, Jerome almost falling to the ground. All of them - Nick, Mary May and Hope - try to catch him but the peggies holding them all down won’t let them.

“You son of a bitch.” Mary says, trying to reach John, but the peggie holding him down and the one that hit Jermoe hits her on the head with the gun as well.

Hope growls impotently at them then looking down at Jerome she stops. The man shoves away the Book of Joseph on the floor while everyone else is occupied with Mary May and he grabs the Bible again. Both book looking similar no one else notices. But Hope does and a memory hits her. The gun! There’s a gun inside of it! She remembers when Jerome came to her after the Cleansing he put the gun inside of it. Now how to get a hold of it?

Hope looks up as John laughs, arms open, holding them up like a saying of sorry.

“Hahahaha. Let’s try that again, haha.”

And he quickly changes mood, grabbing the now standing Pastor’s shoulder again, voice a lot more unpatient this time.

��Our devoted. We are gathered here to bear witness...”

They stand in front of Nick, and Jerome repeats the Seed’s words this time.

“Our devoted. We are gathered here to bear witness...”

John almost doesn’t waits for him to finish as he continues:

“To those willing to atone for their sins.”

Jerome disgusted by the words repeats them. John now looks at the pilot.

“Will you, Nick Rye place your hands upon The Word of Joseph?”

Jerome starts to repeat the sentence, but Nick growls, interrupting him, though his hatred is towards John not the Pastor.

“Oh, fuck that! Nah, I ain’t ever giving in to that psychopath.”

Hope holds her breath, looking at John while Nick says that, watching the man not blink, face unreadable for most of them, but the deputy sees right through it. And here he goes, his Wrath as he pushes past the Pastor. Nick wants to punch him by the looks of it, but the peggie holds him back and the one from the Deputy’s side goes to help him hold the pilot back.

John stands right before him, voice seemingly calm:

“There it is. Greed.” He motions with his hands to Nick’s Greed tattoo on his chest. “Always thinking of yourself...”

When Nick gathers some spit in his mouth and sends it right into John’s face Hope can’t help but let out a muffled chuckle, biting her cheeks inside to hide her amusement. John looks at her for a moment, not amused as he shakes his head a bit, wiping the spit away from his beard, then looking down at it. Hope for a moment thinks he’ll taste it as well as he did with her back in the bunker, but he doesn’t. He fakes a chuckle and says:

“What is it with you people and spitting?”

Hope struggles against the one peggie holding her, as John puts his hands on Nick, worried for the man’s life. They can’t hear what he’s whispering into the pilot’s ear, but Rye seems to have a worried expression and he stops struggling against the cultists holding him.

John leans back, eyebrows raised and asks:

“Nick?”

The man fakes a smile and looks at the junior deputy for a moment.

“Yes. Yes, I will atone.”

Hope shakes her head slowly in disbelief and panicks as John gets a knife into his hands.

“No...” She whispers and as the peggies lay Nick down on the floor she shouts. “NO! You son of a bitch, let him go!” She almost cries out.

She doesn’t even know the man that long, hell they met today, but she felt more connection to the Ryes than anyone else in the Valley. So watching him getting his skin peeled off of him hurts her like hell.

Nick cries out as the skin is removed from him, John holding it up in the air with triumph, turning back so he can show it to them. Hope has the urge to cry and puke.

“That is the Power of Yes.” He exhales hardly, and looks at the Deputy for a second. “The power to take away your sins.”

He moves to the wall quickly, stapling the skin on it, like he did with the skins on his workbench back in the bunker.

He crouches down, putting his hand on the back of Nick, with the intent to comfort, but it makes Hope blood boil, wanting nothing but to hurt John for what he did. But he just continues:

“The power to set you free.”

He makes some sighing sounds, which is ridiculous because he didn’t do anything that would make him breathless. Unless he has a fucking boner from this... Sadistic fuck...

John washes the blood from his hands at the altar, in a bowl of water, then sprays it in the air as he tries to shake the wetness from his hands.

He turns around and grabs on Jerome, making the man stand right before Hope. She clenches her hands into fists so forcefully, her own nails hurt her palm, she can even feel blood coming out of her hands, but damn, she doesn’t care. She looks into the eyes of the Baptist and has no idea how she could see any beauty in the man’s eyes before. There’s nothing beautiful in him at this moment.

“Will you, Deputy, place your hand upon the Word of Joseph?” He asks, not breaking eye contact with her.

Jerome holding out the book to her repeats his words:

“Will you, Deputy, place your hand upon the Word of Joseph?”

John almost doesn’t wait for him as he continues:

“And renounce your sins and admit your transgressions.” His voice a lot more calm, smooth. But he’s impatient.

“And renounce your sins and admit your transgressions.” The Pastor repeats.

Jerome steps closer to her and John holding his neck lets him, not breaking eyecontact with the young woman. The Pastor looks at her and says:

“Say Yes.”

Hope doesn’t look at him, her angry face looking right into John’s. He looks frightening, like a wolf to a sheep, but she’s not afraid. Her disgust and fury doesn’t let her fear. She doesn’t say a thing, as the Baptist’s face softens:

“It’s just one word.”

Is it though? Because it fucking looks like it means more to you. She thinks. The man actually has a hollywood sign of ‘Yes’ in the Valley, like a maniac. So no, it’s not just a fuckin’ word.

John’s not patient and he motions to the peggie next to Jerome who hits the Pastor hard on his head with his gun, Mary May catching him before John and the peggie makes him stand straight again.

Does it worth it? Not saying anything, and then getting the Pastor beat up for it? Of fucking course it’s not worth it, but her guts and pride doesn’t let her speak.

John doesn’t waits long, motioning to the peggie to hit him again, this time Mary May catching the Pastor and looking at Hope:

“Just say yes.”

John doesn’t say anything, but gestures to the owner of the Spread Eagle like: ‘Bitch listen to your friend at least. She knows the deal.’ As Pastor Jerome stands before her, holding out the book she considers three things quickly:

1: I grab the gun and get killed in the moment, but at least I tried. 2: I say Yes and get a skin-off-session with John and after that who knows what will happen. 3: I don’t say yes and they’ll keep beating and hurting my friends.

She opens her mouth slowly, like trying to find the right words, John’s eyes glistening with hope, but she quickly grabs on the book and opens it.

“GUN!” The peggie next to her say, as Hope aimlessly shoots, missing John.

They grab on her arm, but she fights the peggie off, hitting the cultist in the face with her elbow. While others start shouting, and jumping on the peggies.

A couple of cultists surround John and they lead him away, out the church, while he grabs his left ear. I could swear I didn’t hit him... She thinks, but not for long as the cultists shout:

“Get John to his Ranch! Move!”

The fuck?! To the Ranch, really?! Of course it’s true, the place was empty when she left it, so they could bring him home without a problem.

“Fuck!” She says as a peggie shoots at her and she slides down to the benches’ cover in time. She lands next to Adam and Liza, looking down at them and asks the stupidest question:

“You two are okay?” How would they be okay? They look the worst in shape out of all of them. Liza without her skin, Adam’s sin carved into him... With a knife, not even a tattoo gun.

She doesn’t wait for confirmation though, she has to move. Now!

“Get me to my ranch. Go! Go! Get me to my airstrip!”

That’s John’s voice from outside. The Deputy grabs the gun she got from the bible before and shoots down a peggie, so she can run next to the body and loot the weapon from the dead cultist. It’s a lot easier to fight with an AR-C against them, not just a revolver.

Pastor Jerome is outside as the shooting starts, but Hope can’t find John anywhere. She shoots down the cultists and then runs up to Jerome who dismisses her:

“I’ll take care of Nick, go! Go with Mary and finish this!”

Hope quickly looks for the bartender and watches her enter a car with an automatic weapon on it.

“Deputy! He’s gonna get away! Let’s get a move on!”

Hope runs up to the car and enters from behind, getting behind the weapon and as she does so, Mary May starts the engine, going fast that Hope thinks she’ll fall off from the truck if they take a quick turn.

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t fun.” Mary says from the car and Hope frowns at that.

“THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” The deputy screams down into the car, not seeing the face of the woman.

But there’s no time for chit-chat as a Resistance truck in front of them on the road gets a missile and blows up. Hope readies the weaponary in her hands and shoots at the peggies off the road.

“Can’t one thing be easy today?!” She screams frustrated.

There was literally no one on the road when I was going to the church.

As trucks proceed to follow them she shoots at them as well. She’s not good at heavy weapons, she doesn’t like them anyway, but she uses them now. Having nothing else on her and not wanting to die.

“PLANES!” Mary May shouts just as Hope managed to get rid of the trucks behind them.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with those?!

“Hit the gas!” Hope shouts back to the woman as she tries to shoot at the planes, but let’s be honest they are outnumbered.

They turn in to the Ranch, the mini sign of YES welcoming them as Hope watches a plane take off from the airstrip. Shit, that’s John! The young woman recognizes the plane from the night of the arrest.

Mary drives by the Ranch right onto the airfield, where other planes are set. When did they arrive? How did they have the time for all of this? She doesn’t know and she doesn’t have the time to waste on thinking of it.

There are two planes: one at the hangar and one at the airstrip already. She jumpes off the car, not waiting for it to stop and leaves Mary to fight off the peggies as she enters it.

“I literally had one flight before this and the guy is obsessed with the plane. Chances I win? Low...” She says to herself as she enters the plane, starting the engine and flying to the direction after John Seed.

There’s at least a parachute next to her if she needs to use it.

Her radio crackles to life and Nick’s voice can be heard:

“Partner, it’s Nick. I’m not lettin’ that motherfucker get away with this. I can fly if you need. Just say the word.”

“God, Nick, yes! Please!” She pleads for the man.

“Let’s get this son of a bitch!”

The radio doesn’t end as John speaks, Hope not even getting close to his plane yet:

“Nick Rye! Have you already forgotten what I told you--”

The Seed doesn’t get enough time to finish as the pilot angrily interrupts him:

“Fuck you! You’re a goddamn demon and we’re gonna send you straight back to hell. You hear me?! You’re a dead man!”

John’s amused or annoyed -Hope can’t tell - voice replies:

“My, my, my... how contagious wrath can be. I’ll just have to kill you both.”

Hope finally can see his plane in view and she concentrates on following him, not saying a word to the man. But that’s just not working out to John of course as he speaks to her now, only her:

“The Father gave you a chance for salvation and you threw it away! Look at what you’ve done. Look at the wrath you have wrought!”

She almost gets a heart attack as John plane takes a turn and goes straight to her plane’s way. She quickly pulls up the control stick, barely getting away from collision.

“How about you try not to kill us both?!” She shouts back to him, trying to steady her plane in the air.

Nick comes to help and starts shooting John’s plane. And as the young woman gets the control over her plane again she follows his lead.

“You could have helped us build a paradise, a future.” John sounds hurt, but his words doesn’t affect her. “Instead you choose to burn it all down!”

She scoffs at that and sighs in relief as John’s plane starts to smoke after shots from her and Nick... Well, mostly Nick.

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault you actually thought I would join your stupid cult.”

And without warning Nick drops a bomb on John’s plane.

“Agh! No-NO!” The Seed’s radio starts to break as the plane “I’m losing control...I had an a.... going do...”

They are almost at John’s bunker as his plane crashes, though he exits it and uses his parachute. Without a second thought Hope lets go of the controls, her plane going crazy at that as she quickly gets the parachute on her and exits the plane.

Never jumped out a plane before, I guess I can cross this out from my bucket-list. She thinks. Always trying to ease her worry and anxiety with humor. Usually it doesn’t work, but she does so anyway.

“Brothers. Sisters. Do not fear. We have prepared for this. The Father has shown us the way. Prepare my bunker. I’m coming to join you. We will await the Collapse together...”

John’s voice says as he lands on the ground, alive of course, running for his bunker. Hope leaves the air quickly behind him, exiting the parachute before landing, taking a minor fall. But she doesn’t waste time getting to her feet again, running after the man. This is it. She thinks. I can finally free Hudson.

And before they leave the forest and she gets close behind she jumpes on the man, both landing on the ground with a groan. She turns him around and hits his face with her fist. Bone to bone colliding, as she pushes herself up from him. Before he could stand up she gets the revolver aimed at his head.

It feels almost surreal. After the long chase, the shoutings and shootings: this sudden silence.

No birds or sound of gunfire. Nothing. Just them, facing each other, him on the ground and her standing above him. Him at the verge of death, her being the breaking point.

They breath heavily, looking at each other in the eye. Both waiting for the other one to speak first or to act first. She actually waits for him to try to run, to knock the gun out of her hand. Anything that would give her the right to shoot the man down. But he doesn’t.

She looks at the key dangling from his neck and she grabs it, but he catches her wrist, holding her in place. Her other hand holding the gun against his head.

“What if Joseph is right? Did you ever stop to think about that?” He speaks, finally something breaking the silence between them.

His voice sounds tired and only now she looks down at him really. He seems more injured than her. Not exactly dying yet, but still. He’s not far from it.

“Everyone thinks he’s crazy, but he’s not... Look around you, this world is on the brink. You can feel it in your bones. Look at the headlines.” He laughs that leads to a cough. “Look who’s in charge.”

“Shut up...” She whispers. Not angry, not hateful, just tired.

But he doesn’t care as he continues on. Knowing it wouldn’t take much for her to shut him up, forever.

“You want this key because you think you’re saving people but they are already safe.” He sounds sincere, like he’s still trying to convince her of the Project. And it actually moves her in a way. Heart clenching in her chest as he looks down at the man. “We had a plan.”

Hope closes her eyes, too tired to hear him speak. Too tired of it all. It feels too much, too overwhelming. The previous high from adrenalin and fight long gone. There’s just exhaustion in all possible way: physical and mental.

“Just shut up...” She whispers again, voice tired and hurt by all the things that happened in the last month.

His hurt voice makes her open her eyes again, looking into his blue ones. Of course he doesn’t listen to her... Just as she doesn’t listen to him.

“You don’t understand... You don’t believe. You don’t care!!!”

He shouts at her angrily, defeated, disappointed... It’s not that she doesn’t care. Exactly the opposite. She cares too much, about everyone and everybody. The Resistance, god, even the cult sometimes. Wondering about Joseph Seed’s words. Joseph’s words... She remembers his morning call.

The leather holding the key in his neck breaks, but his hand still holds onto her wrist. The key already in her fist he looks up at the woman:

“Shoot me then!” He says it with such a spite it hurts her.

Yeah, shoot him. What are you waiting for? A voice says inside her head. He tortured your friens, kidnapped you and others. God, who knows how many he killed. This is her chance, the only opporunity probably to end him.

She readies her finger on the trigger as they look into each others eyes. This is it. Do it. Do it!

Her hand shakes around the gun, god why is she shaking so much? She never did before, always steady with her kills. Why the change now? ‘I ask you to spare his life.’ Joseph Seed’s words echo in her head, but that’s not the only thing stopping her.

She was so ready after his call, determined to end him for her friends. Even in the church she shot at him, hoping she would hit him with the bullet. But now, that she’s not surrounded by cultists or guns or her friends. It’s just the two of them. And she can’t do it. God damn it!

“Fuck...” She mutters as she straightens up, already knowing she’ll regret her decision later, looking at the bunker and an empty peggie truck in front of it, just a couple of meter away from them.

Then she looks back at the man on the ground below her, gesturing with her gun.

“Get up.” She says simply and is faced with a confused expression on John’s face. She has the key, what else does she want from him, he probably thinks and stays on the ground.

She rolls her eyes and raises her voice a bit, impatient:

“Get up!”

John tries to, but his injuries must hurt really bad as he groans by just sitting up, trying to push himself from the ground. She watches him, then puts the key inside her pocket and gets next to him, grabbing on his shoulder, pulling him up to his feet. He’s surprised but doesn’t say anything as they start to walk toward the truck. He has a limp, something he either got from the plane crash or when she tackled him down to the ground.

She opens the truck door to the backseat and shoves him in there, closing it on him as she enters from the front, taking the wheel. She starts the engine and drives down from the bunker. She doesn’t exactly know where she’s going or what her plan is. But she can’t just shoot him. She just can’t...

“What are you doing?” Comes a confused ask from the backseat.

Hope looks at the rear-view mirror, meeting John’s gazing blue eyes then she looks back at the road, driving like she knows what she’s doing.

“Driving.” She says, her voice sassy.

A scoff comes from behind, and though she can’t see John smiles at that.

“I meant what is your plan? Going to go and kill me somewhere else?”

He asks it, but they both know that’s not true. No, she had her chance at killing him. She had the right moment and she wasted it. It makes her cringe, not wanting to explain her actions when even she can’t understand them.

“Shut up or I’ll gag you.” She spits and he chuckles in the back, which turns into a cough. Making her look back at him for a second, checking out his injuries. He needs to be patched up.

“I can’t wait.” He says and she rolls her eyes, looking at the road, her destination still not clear in her head.

“Can you just not?! We were literally trying to kill each other not even half an hour ago.” And now we’re back at it again with the flirting... But she doesn’t say that out loud.

He just chuckles in the back seat, not even trying to fight her. Not like he would have a chance against her if he tried. He just lays down in the back seat, trying to get comfortable while she drives.

“Such wrath... You haven’t even looked at my work yet, Little Miss Wrath.”

She scoffs at the nickname, not knowing which is worse: Dep-yuu-tee or Little Miss Wrath. She takes a quick glimpse at her own chest, looking at John’s handiwork. ‘WRATH’ right under her collarbone. The skin red around the black ink.

“I hate it. Going to sue the artist, I hope he has a great lawyer.”

John straight out laughs at that, no mocking sound and she doesn’t want to acknowledge that it makes her smile a little. A smile that she quickly wipes off her face. She doesn’t need that. She doesn’t need his stupid laugh at her stupid joke. She needs rest and time to think. A place where she can plan her actions out.

She wants to tell him to shut up, but they both get silent as her radio crackles to life and Pastor Jerome starts speaking.

“Deputy... I don’t know what to say. John Seed terrorized this valley for so long.. Never thought I would see the end of him...”

God, now she feels even more confused with her mixed feelings and she feels like she betrayed him. She doesn’t dare to look at John, but she knows he’s watching and listening carefully.

“But you can’t pat yourself on the back just yet. Hudson and everyone else trapped in John’s bunker need to be rescued. I’ll round up whoever I can and meet you there, but you need to go now. There’s no telling what Eden’s Gate will do to them after all this.”

Shit... So her kind of first plan to go to the Jail and put John Seed there is now ended. She needs to get rid of him soon, so she can rescue Hudson. But she can’t just show up at Fall’s End with him like: ‘Yo, I know we just had a fight, people got tortured but I’m stupid and let John fuckin’ Seed live. Now we can all sit around the camp fire and sing Kumbaya.’

But then it pops to her. The perfect place, well... A place near that she could go to. And she just knows the person to call for help. The only one she can trust aaaand the only one that won’t want to kill John on sight.

“Already burying me. Too bad when they’ll find out I’m alive.” John amuses and Hope looks at him in the mirror not answering, which makes his face change. His charismatic, lawyer expression on: “Oh, so you won’t tell them, huh? You want me all to yourself, Deputy?”

She doesn’t acknowledges him as she sets her radio to the right station and speaks to it:

“Sharky... I need your help.”

A/N: Yay, finally got here too! *-* I can’t wait to show you guys what’ll happen next. Also I’m sorry when - because it will - the story turn dark a bit. But I guess you’ll have to wait and see for that, haha. Thanks for reading ♥

Tags: @onl-you , @redaurora17

#hope's savior #trinity-hope johnson #my deputy #john seed x female deputy #john seed x deputy #john seed x oc #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #far cry 5 #my ocs

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mondofunnybooks · 6 years ago

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MONDO FunnyBooks: Bunker Down.

Were you a recent visitor to the wonderful world of comics fandom and discussions between professionals in the business, you might have the idea that comic customers were essentially a superstitious and cowardly lot.

Current sources of outrage, retweets and outbreaks of delusional authority run riot have been ranged from the fairly embarrassing to the downright worrying. Arguments in this writers memory have been about: 'Is The Joker doing something not very nice to a human being?', 'How dare a movie studio choose to cast who they like in the film they're paying to make without consulting US first?', 'This man who draws and has been drawing people in a particular fashion has drawn this person in his particular fashion. How dare he?' We reached peak David Icke/Alex Jones levels of hilarious Othering this week when an X-Men artist referred to SJWs as 'Nazis'.

Irony and Satire have apparently given up on humanity and gone for a pint.

The usual conservative, tribal viewpoints of people who've confused an artistic medium with a constant stream of politically free distraction designed only to anatheize rather than engage and stimulate thought, then. It's more important to harass Ruby Rose for being cast as 'Batwoman' until she feels compelled to leave Twitter or be upset at the news of Michael B. Jordan playing Johnny Storm for reasons that were absoultly nothing to do with racism but rather the...uh...misportrayal of the modern American family which defintly traditionally couldn't contain a black man. Also something something tradition or something.

When we've brought this up before, we're usually countered with something like 'Oh, you should see Harry Potter/Overwatch/Hunger Games/Fortnite fandoms, they're JUST as bad.' Which we are willing to assume is true, having seen YouTube comments, but it does seem that the entertainment industry has a bad habit of emulating the worst excesses of the comics industry.

Whether it's Empire or TV Guide running variant covers, Toy producers doing convention exclusive figures and then selling them at a premium afterwards or even, HighFather Keep Us From Laughing, the application of the words 'Limited' or 'Collectiable' to a product to imply both a scarity that requires instant purchase and a possibilty of high resale value when in fact those are words that could be applied to any physical product ever.

We can almost guarantee that there are only a limited amount of copies of 'Night Rocker' by David Hasslehoff in the world and should you decide to purchase one or more copies, you have collected them, but neither fact is hard evidence that anyone will offer you more than you paid for them ten years in the future.

This is a rather..odd state of affairs to have come about. With the exception of poetry or graffiti, Before the medium was hijacked into becoming one more vehicle to sell corporate superhero products, work like George Herriman's 'Krazy Kat' explored the nature of language via abusive animals against the unrelenting tedium of the desert. Little Nemo In Slumberland by Windsor McCay was a continous attempt to map the subconscious in a strip adaptable to any format thrown at him by publishers. Sigel and Shuster commericalised the Jewish notion of a charismatic Golem who would maintain balance against an American society that had been taught to hate them. Fly By Night publishing types would use the form to glamourise the world of true crime and vaguely condemning tales of drug abuse to create an entire sub-culture by showing a willingness to adapt to the times.

These were the early days of comics and sequential story-telling and by now there ought to be work making these masterpieces look like the plinkings of Woody Gutherie against the all out assault on the cortex that is an Atari Teenage Riot. Instead the front end of the medium seems more concerned with dotting the I's and lining the t's of it's previous output (our favourite example being Marvel's 'Secret Wars Too: A comic that explained to readers why the comic it was parodying would be late. They charged money for this, as well.)

Comics were long considered the Outlaw Artform, so capable of shaping the public psyche that the content and distribution were brought up in Congress to see if it was necessarily to regulate the avalibilty of them to children. It's a longer story than will run here but the essence of the events is that while the 1954 hearings saw Congress conclude that comics were NOT a harmful product that would negatively influence children's minds, the comics industry decided that it would be best to settle public hysteria by establishing 'The Comics Code Authority', which would impose a series of standards and regulations upon comics seeking to be distributed on the newsstands.

Ironically, one of the people on the earlier incarnations of the board that would make up The CCA would be John Goldwater, one of many who takes credit for the creation of Archie Andrews'.. This writer likes to think Mr Goldwater was probably a little resentful of EC Comics's Archie parody 'STARCHIE!' (MAD Magazine Issue 12. Remains funny but now also looks like any episode of 'Riverdale'.) and was more than happy to choose the phrasing of a code that also happened to regulate the key words in EC Comic's top selling comics out of publication. All the resentful little men in comics complaining about being mocked are 'Happy Days''s Howard Cunningham wearing his Grand Poobah hat in our head.

We say 'ironically', because the current Ickeian theory is that comic sales in the direct market are so low due to Marvel and DC 'giving in' to the demands of the 'SJWs'. What with their unreasonable demands for more realistic representation in mainstream comics, we can see how 'Could you produce more comics we'd be willing to buy?' would definetly be an agenda designed to bring down the entire comics industry.

Because we are given to facts, we can't dispute a lot of the problems the new comics industry faces. Sales on New Comics to The Direct Market ARE down.

It would take the same sort of mind that blames Barack Obama for his Presidential inaction during Hurricane Katrina to think that the problems of new comics are the work of those damned SJWs, though. Not unless Heidi MacDonald has a time machine.

Unless Laurie Penny staged a hostile takeover of The Marvel Editorial Summit and said 'Right. Here's what we want: Please keep raising the prices of your comics by roughly about a dollar every few years, do more $150 crossovers that will have no significance in about 4 years or so. Please spin off as many comics as possible from one of your prime brands. Make sure your top staff behave like Obnoxious King Nerds on social media whenever possible.Instead of focusing your sales team on promoting the comic as a good read, keep pitching your comics as must buy investment issues aimed at speculators who won't be back for the next issue. As soon as your readership have begun to settle into a book, it's direction and it's creative team, that's probably the best time to relaunch your titles.

Be sure to confuse readers and retailers by pretending each relaunch is a 'Season' without ever referring to which season is currently published in advertising or trade dress. Come up with any justification whatsover to publish an anniversary issue that's triple the price of a regular comic as frequently as possible. Try to devalue the contribution and sales cache of your creative team over the amount of variant covers offered to retailers. Have your top writers actively and vocally hostile to the notion of second printings and finally publish no comics that even vaguely resemble the TV and Movie versions of your characters so new readers can come into a shop after seeing "Avengers Assemble" and be offered 7 books called "Avengers" but they'll mainly be about some men chatting at a table.'....then the reasons why new comics are failing aren't at the hands of SJWs.

They're at the hands of the publishers. The above list is the main reason for the decline in sales of new comics in specialist shops that we saw in our days behind the till. All things we were saying over a decade ago at retailer meetings with Marvel and DC. We were brushed off in order to try and wave shiny new 3D variants back then.

A few years later, when it was apparent that the law of diminishing returns was in full effect, was when finally The Big Two turned to the 'gimmick' of appealling to a wider audience. When oddly, that half-hearted effort to win over a new readership by publishing the books in the same venues as usual didn't work,with little support from their publicity and advertising departments both Marvel and DC quickly threw these efforts under the bus as proof that trying to expand your salesbase beyond a Wednesday crowd was a waste of time.

Except that''s nonsense of course. Any analysis of pre-order charts will tell you that the sales have been in heavy decline since 2007's 'Civil War' from Marvel. The constant attempts to repeat that success in that format are the problem. Marvel and DC trying the 'Social Justice' route and it's subsequent failure is a shameless attempt to rewrite history for the benefit of an agenda of tired Poobahs scared of time and their limited views of the comic medium making them irrelevant.

In fact, Marvel's recent attempt to appeal to Muslims,AND teenagers (imagine.) at once was quite late in the game with 2013's 'Ms Marvel' while the 'Feminazi Bible' Mockingbird wouldn't begin threatening Poobah Egos until around late 2016. Meanwhile, Archie Comics had smelled which way the wind was blowing several years earlier....

Archie Comics were always smarter than the ongoing superhero titles because they never set themselves up to tell an ongoing story, but rather worked like an extended cartoon strip. If you read three random issues of any Archie comics, you were probably as clued up on the cast of Riverdale as you were going to need to be to understand the dynamics of what was going on. Archie was perptually out of sync with the world around him, Betty was goal driven and meant well, Moose wasn't quite sure what day it was but loved Midge more than anything, etc. etc. All you had to do was set up a situation, add two or more of the characters and let the rest play out.

Even better, since the characters weren't obliged to be a certain age given the backstory (Peter Parker can't be worrying about teenage problems since he's been around long enough to get married, be a lecturer, etc.) the backgrounds and fashions could simply be updated to reflect the times of publication.

So no awkward retcons such as Reed Richards and Ben Grimm starting off as veterans of World War 2 and suddenly having gone through The Gulf War instead, prompting questions like 'Which comics have and haven't happened, then, because The Avengers definitely went to Saigon in the 70's but the existence of The FF precedes The Original Avengers finding Captain America in the block of ice and Cap turned out to be fighting Richard Nixon during The Secret Empire Saga so...argh!'

Archie managed to stay on the newsstands long after the self absorbed and inside baseball nature of superhero comics rendered them unsaleable in your average W.H.Smith's or Wal-Mart, since any issue of Betty & Veronica could be read by anyone with no need to check out previous issues. It was very rare that any one tale would run more than one comic and the few times it did, it was with fantastic results. We'll get to that.

In 2010, Marvel was wasting everyone's time and money on 'Siege; or 'What If Asgard wasn't in space but in Oklahoma instead?' while DC insisted on spreading the myth that people who grew up in Liverpool talk like they're from Shoreditch by adding John Constantine to the line up of 'Brightest Day'.

During the same year, Archie dragged mainstream comics kicking and screaming into the future with 'Kevin Keller', a comic featuring an openly gay male lead out in the real world and everything. This annoyed some American Mary Whitehouse wannabes called 'One Million Moms!'. They campaigned against the title being sold in children friendly areas such as Toys R Us but only really proved their basic inability to count to 1 million.

In the same year they published covers featuring Archie kissing Valerie, the black bassist from Josie & The Pussycats. If this doesn't strike you as a big deal for a comic being published in the mid-west of America, well, you might be one of those guys suggesting that there's always been adequate representation in comics.

They didn't sell as many comics in specialist shops, but while The Big Two continued to tread water, Archie kept moving forward, kept looking to crossover with big name brands, parodied the biggest comic crossovers, featured the likes of Barack Obama and Sarah Palin, paid homage to EC Comics and got Adam Hughes to draw covers. They even explored exactly what WOULD happen if Archie finally chose Betty. And Veronica. And heartbreakingly, how deep Archie's love for his fellow man ran in the conclusion to the marriage stories in 'The Death Of Archie.' Oh, and he also met the Predator.

Then they stepped everything into higher gear with our second favourite horror comic of the 21st Century with Afterlife With Archie. It was a book we'd recommend to new readers as a good alternative to the horrendously overpriced, badly drawn horror or just too boring to be scary books glutting the market with 'Torture Porn Variants'. AWA would feature at least one chilling moment per issue likely to stay with you long after you finished reading. One issue of tie-in book 'Sabrina The Teenage Witch; is worth 3 or 4 'Walking Dead' trade paperbacks in terms of actual horror instead of people talking around a trailer park.

If you had been a fan of the Archie world before and hadn't read it for a while, though, our glee would be magnified. While the horror/jump scare bits of AWA are genuinely well done and actually quite intense, the bits between undead assault are where the real horror lies as relationships between all the characters are twisted forever, new angles and revealations would stop you ever being able to see Midge, Cheryl, Reggie and more in quite the same light.

This moving with the times meant that the Archie readership were quite capable of seeing the characters they loved for so many decades in different modes of storytelling and art styles laid the groundwork for two things: The relaunch of the line in 2015 with high profile creators such as Mark Waid, Fiona Staples, Chip Zdarsky and Adam Hughes doing new and interesting takes on a universe we all knew so well (A bit like The Ultimate Universe but with a point and a plan.) and also the hit show 'Riverdale'.

It will not surprise many of you to learn that the Grand Poobahs Of Comics (TM MONDO FunnyBooks 2018) hated 'Riverdale' and frequently grumbled 'Not MY Archie.' but then, by folding their arms and threatening to hold their breath until the artform of comics goes back to being what THEY want, they've proven time and again that they're constantly wanting to find a straw man to blame for the world moving on without them. These were the same people who moaned about 'Archie Vs Punisher' for not taking Frank Castle seriously enough and thought the parody crossover 'Love Showdown' (Which promised that Archie would finally choose a permanent girlfriend) would break the Archieverse once and for all.

There are lots of ways to improve the state of comics. Indulging the whinging of grumpy old men and refusing to believe the rest of the world might be interested in comics are not on that list of ways.

And as a wise man once said 'The people want BeBop. And who I am to tell them that BeBop is wrong?'

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