#abhorrence band

[redmiller]

truly if we’re mutuals i hope u know i cherish u with my entire being even if we’ve never/barely spoken and became mutuals like a day ago or we talk all the time and have been mutuals for years. i love u

[dark-raven-feathers]

He had a reputation, you see, for being a sorcerer. 

As a schoolmaster though, he was alright. He never did hex us, and he taught well enough. Even managed to keep my rat of a brother on the bench ‘til noon reading Script.

Then that cow started following him. We thought it was funny at first; maybe he’d stuck some hay to his trousers or put straw in his shoes so the cow could follow him, or maybe he had a lead tied to his wrist that he’d turned invisible so we couldn’t see it. And getting lessons canceled because that cow kept trying to follow him into the school made it all the more funnier.

Then my brother noticed him going into the woods every night. Didn’t think it was too weird; he was a sorcerer after all. Maybe he went in there to dance with his cow, or something.

When the king came back after a storm though, we started thinking something was going wrong in there. We started following him in, or at least tried to. He knew the woods better than us, and we always lost him after a minute or so. The closest we got was the big root halfway down the hunter’s trail; he took a turn after that, went around that huge tree, and disappeared into thin air.

Clearly that wasn’t going to work then. We did some other research, asked around (but not the adults. Mum would have skinned us alive if she knew we were trying to catch a witch), and landed on one of the boys who only came twice a week. He didn’t want to talk at first but when I told him we’d get him pudding he agreed. Sat us down in the field and told us the sorcerer wanted to sleep with his sister, and told him to get some hairs from “Down there”. His words, not mine. That was where the cow came in; got hairs from the cow's udder instead. Had a good laugh about it.

We weren’t the ones who turned him in. Mum would have had us dropped in the lake for sneaking around a witch anyways. Some other girl found him out and got the lot of them hanged. I think the worst part was that his real name was Fian, really. Cunningham sounded better.

[@solointhesand]

(Doctor John Fian gets investigated by his students except I wrote the aftermath first in the shape of an interview because… because)

[overbearingstruggles]

Your last anon is Twitter folks spreading rumors. How would they have that insight unless Alex was actively sleeping with someone in the gang that got snubbed and told her about it before he dumped her flat ass?

Oh god we’re doing this again, huh?

[val-of-the-north]

The "Hornsent deserved it" sentiments make me lose my goddamn mind

Short answer: No they didn't.

Long answer: Oh my gooooooooooood can we NOT do this shit, please???

There are two underlying sentiments to this line of thinking.

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people, thus Marika did nothing wrong, therefore they deserved to die badly

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people + Midra and some others, Marika is still evil, but the Hornsent deserved to be destroyed

Both may even come to the extreme of "Messmer wasn't cruel enough" or some other nonsense in the same vein.

-

Number 1

To tackle number one, we need to remember a little thing called Elden Ring's base game. The Hornsent's jar ritual is undoubtedly abhorrent, that much is true. But I urge you to remember the things that happened during Marika's reign. She:

Murdered all of the Fire Giants but one, subjecting him to a fate similar to hers but worse, forced into labor confined on the mountain among the remains of his people and culture. She mocked him, to boot. All of this because they might have burnt the Erdtree.

Enslaved the Misbegotten from birth "or worse" because their species just so happened to have made contact with the Crucible.

Rewarded her own loyal Crucible Knights with scorn because of it too, as they didn't fit her current society that they fought to establish.

Made sure the Albinaurics were seen as lesser just because they were graceless, which influenced the way they were treated. She even had her Inquisition, run by Rykard, torture them in needlessly cruel manners, as they appear to be their main victims.

Just in general, she allowed Rykard to run a sadistic Inquisition to torture heretics to the Golden Order in the first place, and she saw nothing wrong with it or their practices.

She entombed the entire Great Caravan over a false rumor, which is the sole reason why the Flame of Frenzy was even a problem during her reign. This has also scarred the remainder of their people greatly.

Made the lives of all Omen a living hell either by cutting their horns just as they were born which often kills them, hunting them down in as cruel a way as possible by using their trauma and body parts against them, or throwing them in a sewer to fester with evil spirits hidden from view. She also used to shackle them, including her two children, just to make extra sure they wouldn't crawl out.

Shunned anyone who saw a vision of the Erdtree burning, regardless of who it was, and chased them away from their homes.

Literally allowed the belief that shorter people are somehow lesser, for apparently no reason at all (her most random discrimination decision tbh). This forces them to band together and take up honorless jobs just to get by, and in turn, people start to spread rumors of their inhuman practices, which are likely all untrue.

Had people literally work as slaves for the nobility just by virtue of "being born into obscurity", whatever that means. As well as other accounts of slavery like the Fallen Hawks (likely tied to the defeated soldiers of ancient Stormveil).

Likely endorsed viewing anyone without Grace as inferior beings, which includes the Tarnished that only exist because she divested them of it. She has done nothing to ease their discrimination (despite potentially seeing them as a future asset of sorts), as even the members of the Crusade are more than ready to kill us, like Fire Knight Queelign.

All of this was done in service to HER religion and order. Killing all the Fire Giants and burying the Nomadic Merchants alive? Oh, they could have ruined her age with those pesky flames of theirs.

Systematically oppressing Omen, Misbegotten, Albinaurics and the likes? Oh, they are impure creatures, unlike her people, blessed with the Grace of Gold, elevated from the rest. (Which is the exact same line of thinking as the Hornsent and their horns for crying out loud).

"Oh but the Hornsent stuffed her people into jars" yeah, and I am not arguing the contrary! It was a cruel, deranged practice, born of simple superstition that their victims would be reborn as "good people". But Marika's answer if you don't fit her vision of the world is to either get rid of you and your people through extermination, by literally hounding you from your rightful home, or by enslaving you.

Both sides are genuinely awful... but there's only one side that people are justifying, and it sure as hell isn't the Hornsent.

Marika's backstory is meant to make her less a god, which is all we have ever known her to be before the DLC, and more a human, which is what she once was. It gives her complexity as a character, it's meant to be the catalyst from which we learn why she took the path that she took. It is absolutely not meant to make us go "holy shit guys, Marika was the good guy all along???", because what she brought upon this world through her burning desire for vengeance has ruined it irreparably, and ruined the lives of most of the creatures who inhabit it.

This includes her ruthless, honorless, pointless Crusade against the Hornsent. Sure, it was her own son that started it, but it was for her sake. It was her who allowed him to wage it, he had her full support... until the thing turned to such a slaughter-fest that even she could not associate with it anymore due to how appalling it all was. And what better way to do that than to seal her own son away to wage war endlessly? And not just because his actions made her look bad, but also for the same crippling fear and prejudice that saw her kill all Fire Giants but one and scar the Great Caravan.

Gratuitous violence across the board, and for what?

(I want to make it absolutely clear that I don't mean you can't like Marika now. In fact, I'd say the DLC made her much more of an interesting character to me as well. I just cannot fathom seeing the entirety of Elden Ring and coming out thinking "wow Marika was the good guy" because she isn't. Heck, coming out thinking that she'd be disgusted with what her grandson Godrick is doing with grafting as if she isn't the queen of having zero empathy for those who are graceless or aren't her family, which the Tarnished he grafts are neither. She'd probably be very proud if anything. Marika is a monster. She became one the moment she obtained godhood, because no milestone would quell her. She did all the wrongs, so take this whole section as a refresher in case you had forgotten)

-

Number 2

Now, to tackle number 2... this one seemingly has more nuance, but falls for the tried and true pitfall of "the many must pay for the crimes of the few" which is exactly where it rots and collapses onto itself.

Apparently, because of the perpetrators of the Jar Rituals, ALL Hornsent, INDISCRIMINATELY, deserve to be destroyed. They all, each and every single one, deserve the Crusade and the absolute pointless ruin that it brought them. From the children, to the ones who were friends with people with no horns, to the ones who found their own practices grotesque, to the ones that weren't even tied to the Tower's religion and were just simply living their lives.

They ALL, EQUALLY deserve to be burned, to have their cities destroyed, to have their lives ruined. All of them. Ok.

Number 2 works with the assumption that the Hornsent are some sort of hive mind. Some sort of all-encompassing religious order who believes in their superiority. But that's just the Tower's religion. Hornsent are a people. And people are individuals, with their own opinions, their own lives. In fact, from the perspective of the average Hornsent citizen, they were attacked out of nowhere as they were living in peace, which likely means they weren't even at war with Marika before this event.

People also have the assumption that all of the Hornsent were benefiting from their society, which is blatantly false. In fact, outside the treatment of the Shamans, the people that we know the Hornsent have hurt the most are their fellow Hornsent. We know of quite a few of them suffering at the hands of their kin BECAUSE of their religious and cultural practices.

Being Hornsent isn't a "free from mistreatment" card. If anything, the large Gaols where they were imprisoned were built specifically to house them. The main prisoners we find in large numbers are commoners, the same types as the ones scavenging the ruins of their ravaged towns. They are often seen eating maggots off the floor and cowering in fear. All of them were Hornsent too, locked away for who knows what crime. Could have been big and important, small and insignificant, or even just a failure to do something properly (there's precedent), point is, it's clear the Hornsent weren't having a good time in there.

The jar rituals were used mainly as punishment for the imprisoned Hornsent themselves, as a way to have them become "good people". This was just as horrifying for the Hornsent prisoners as it was for the Shamans I assume. Look how terrified this Hornsent seemed at the prospect of sharing that fate. This is the reason why they chopped up Shamans in the first place, as ritual ingredients for a punishment meant primarily for their kin.

And there were more Hornsent who suffered because of the leading ideology. Curseblades were once shunned because they failed to become tutelary deities, and so they were thrown in the Jar Gaols. They were only let out so they could use their expertise and flowing movements to defend their homeland when Messmer invaded, otherwise they'd be rotting with the Innard Shamans and the other Hornsent prisoners the way Labirith is.

It's also worth pointing out that Midra's Mense was filled with Hornsent attendants who sided with their sagely master regardless of his lack of horns and what the Inquisition believed of him. If we were to operate with reasoning number 2, they too would deserve to be murdered in the Crusade because they just so happened to be Hornsent. Because ALL Hornsent deserve extermination for what happened to the Shamans.

And we also know that the Hornsent can find what happens in Bonny Village revolting. In fact, we know that from someone who was born and raised there.

This sounds nothing like someone who thought any of that was ok. So who is to say other Hornsent weren't like this too, especially those who DIDN'T live in Bonny Village? Those who risked being stuffed into those same jars themselves? We make waaaay too many assumptions about an entire race, and that in itself is foolish enough.

If there's someone to blame, it's the Tower's Inquisition. They are the religious order that governs the Hornsent. They have all the power in their society... and yet, would you look at that? Enir-Ilim, their sanctum, the one place where those calling the shots reside, is completely untouched. And what about Bonny, the most structurally fine Hornsent settlement, when you'd expect it to be a black stain of char by now. But nope, no sign of Messmer activity and the Greater Potentates are just running around naked, doing their thing as usual.

The Crusade isn't even a good tool of vengeance, the only ones suffering are the civilians who were likely the ones with a higher risk of ritual jar punishment anyway. If this isn't proof enough that the Crusade is a completely petty, useless revenge war that accomplishes nothing I don't know what else to say. I'll just leave with what the people taking part in it were taking pride in doing.

These are people who, without a shadow of a doubt, would have chopped up most of the oppressed groups described earlier and stuffed them into jars if Marika had told them to do so. (Heck, something like this was being done to the Albinaurics already, as we have seen previously...)

They have zero moral superiority, their deranged zealotry is the only reason they act in the first place. Not to mention that they have no connection to Marika's struggles or past, nor were they informed of them I bet. It's likely only Messmer truly knows the reason for the Crusade, and that's only because he is her child and shoulders all the blame onto himself.

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death" is LITERALLY their motto. Do you really think they stopped at the Hornsent? They were just their main target, but judging by the way all of Messmer's soldiers, including Queelign and the other Fire Knights, and even HE HIMSELF, attack us on sight for the simple fact we are Tarnished and lack Grace in our eyes, I have no doubt in my mind these people were just rounding up and killing anyone who didn't conform with the Golden Order.

THESE are the people who should be allowed to play judge, jury and executioner with the entire Hornsent race. And people will genuinely, with a straight face, tell you "That's right".

-

To conclude... I think I actually hate reasoning 2 more than reasoning 1 lol, despite not liking either at all. At least 1 is understandable. Marika is a very interesting character, one that we have known for a few years now. We have an attachment to her, heck, sentiments of her being some sort of misunderstood/rebellious figure were already there before the DLC. In that regard, I understand the emotional response, even though I still think it's a wrong mindset to have. I have at least some hope that it is purely in the realm of fiction because it's a beloved character, nothing more...

Reasoning 2, on the other hand, attempts to be nuanced, or at least pretends to be. In reality, all it peddles is the "an eye for an eye" mentality which is much too common irl as well. Not only that, but it deals in monoliths. All people belonging to a group or race are equally responsible for stuff they didn't even commit, stuff that could have even harmed them, because their leaders decided to commit crimes against another set of people. And don't get me wrong, there will be even commoners from that group or race that will agree with and celebrate that bad deed, but just as many will not, but will be either scared, powerless, already being punished for speaking up through physical violence or elaborate shunning, or currently protesting and doing something to hopefully ignite a change.

But that reasoning only exists to perpetuate cycles; of war, violence, and hate for the most part. And sadly, this mindset is very prevalent, a lot of people fail to see the issue with wanton violence as long as it's to stroke that lust for vengeance. And vengeance is a theme that Elden Ring criticizes multiple times in a row, even beyond the obvious horror of the Crusade.

[dughole]

radiohead’s complicity in israeli-occupied palestine

my feelings on radiohead are complicated these days, as i’m sure they are for many. i'm using this post as a method of sorting out my own thoughts & to provide sources.

for me, the bottom line is this: radiohead is both a brand & a musical group. the brand of radiohead has always had deep roots in the israeli colonial project - they have played many, many shows there throughout their career. their breakout single - creep, was intially only a hit in israel (x, x) & the personal choices of some of radiohead's members remain just as involved. jonny greenwood met his future wife - the israeli artist, antivaxxer & vehement zionist (x) sharona katan - at a show radiohead played in israel in 1993 (x). jonny consistently collaborated with zionist musician shye ben tzur & his projects continue to tour in tel aviv as recently as last september. as for jonny himself - his only statement in regards to the war on gaza has been in mourning for the israeli concert goers on october 10th - w no such empathy spared to the 100,000 palestinians dead, injured, or missing. as for thom, while he’s thrown a few bitchfits (x) through the years abt criticism of radiohead’s shows in israel, he has imo - only paid lipservice to the criticism, saying “playing in a country isn’t the same as endorsing its government” going against the pleas of his peers & coworkers in the music industry. as well as the pro-palestine activism undertaken by his long term friend micheal stipe (x & x). (note: stipe stood by radiohead’s performance in israel in 2017, but his current political choices suggest his understanding of the situation has evolved). even his own son - noah yorke, a fellow working musician, has voiced his opposition to the genocide in gaza via instagram stories. as for the other members, rhythm guitarist ed o'brien has called for a ceasefire, as well as making a few tweets about "solidarity with palestinians & israeli peacemakers". while bassist colin greenwood reportedly refused to accept letters of dialogue from the fan-run organization radiohead fans for palestine. drummer phillip selway's commentary is similarly brief but defensive, saying radiohead's 2017 tel aviv concert "felt right"

to me, this paints a picture of a band who's members stances on israel range from abhorrent to simply not enough. & as a brand, their particular combination of action & inaction amounts to a fundamentally zionist perspective. you cannot separate radiohead as artists from radiohead as a brand name.

i've loved radiohead since i was 14. i was brought into it by another longtime fan. i cried & danced when i saw them live back in 2017 - it was, & remains, a moment that allowed me to live through the hardest parts of my life. i felt for the longest time, that radiohead's music & political positions encouraged my empathy - my questioning of conservative political authority. & while all celebrities are failures in some sense - it is still heartbreaking to know how wrong i was.

i don't think it's possible to disconnect the decade of connection & love i have for their music - I won't ask that of myself or anyone else. & the idea of scrubbing one's taste of the "morally impure" is useless effort & an inappropriate simplification of both art & our conceptions of what makes someone "bad". but i can say with certainty - i will not be giving them any more of my money, whether that be streaming their music or buying their merch - & i encourage you to do the same. silence is complicity - this is beyond silence.

in the words of nina simone - "an artist's duty, as far as i'm concerned, is to reflect the times. how can you be an artist and not reflect the times? that to me is the definition of an artist."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request the FNAF movie with a reader possessing Sparky? They’re an adult or in their late teens as opposed to the kids. They don’t “wake up” often but when they do they have a commanding presence over the others.

YES thank you for this Sparky ask-

15 year old me would have flipped her lid if she knew a FNAF 1 hoax would become canon in a movie

........

First...it was the distant muffled screams that awakened your systems, mechanical eyelids slowly fluttering open.

Then..there were louder sounds. Clearer sounds:

A woman's screaming cut short.

Bones crunching.

Flesh squelching.

And finally, something heavy hitting the floor with a thud.

Only then were you fully alert.

As your optics adjusted to the dimness of the backstage room, you realized that it wasn't just the old costumes and springlock suits that were keeping you company.

Freddy was here, too...with half a human corpse laying at his feet.

Your eyes widened out of shock.

Although you've seen him and the others kill before, what he did to that woman was quite abhorrent.

You didn't even think was possible for him to-

"You're awake."

Blinking, your head turned to see the Golden Freddy suit lingering by the door, standing up. His mouth didn't move, but you could tell from his single functioning eye, which was pulsating with a soft blue glow, that the child possessing him was talking to you.

All you could do was glare, your suit's mouth opening. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you letting them act like animals?" Your voice spoke.

In the blink of an eye, he was replaced by a blond boy in a striped shirt. He walked over to you, taking your paw and helping you stand. "It's not me. Some bad people broke in and tried to hurt them. Three others were with her, but they've all been taken care of."

As annoyed as you wanted to be, you knew you couldn't blame them for wanting to protect themselves.

Hell, you didn't even know what fully happened.

Maybe it was justifiable.

"Fine. Bring them here so we can hide the evidence...assuming we have enough room to hide all of it, of course."

The boy just smiled innocently, pointing to where you were sitting.

"Don't worry, there's always enough room for everyone."

You briefly looked to the empty purple Freddy suit that laid in pieces beside you, huffing. "I guess it'll do...I just hope they didn't leave too much of a mess-"

When you looked back to where the boy was, he had vanished completely.

He liked doing that a lot.

You're just relieved that there's at least ONE person you could talk to after being stuck in this pizzeria for.....

For.....

It suddenly occurred to you that you had genuinely forgotten how long you've been here. And the same holds true for the other children...who couldn't even remember their own names anymore. Now they only respond to the names of their characters.

Although there were significant gaps in your memories of being alive, your latest one was of the day you saw a yellow rabbit leading some kids away--taking them one at a time to show them a "backstage tour".

After the fifth one vanished, you followed him, but for some reason....he got angry that you did so.

It's like he didn't want you to see something.

Next thing you knew, you woke up, looking through the eyes of Sparky the Dog--a character you remembered from a diner that once collaborated with Freddy's for a short time.

At some point he was retired, as he kept breaking down while performing to the point where the owner didn't wanna keep repairing him.

And so Sparky--and you--were shoved backstage, being used for nothing more than spare parts.

Unfortunately, that led to you scarcely waking up and roaming like the rest of the Fazbear Band. But whenever you did, they all seemed to listen to you for some reason, doing whatever you asked of them like obedient dogs.

Ironic, considering you were the one possessing a dog.

However it seems you've woken up a tad bit too late this time, as apparently a group of adults have broken into the place, and without your guidance, the gang took it upon themselves to deal with it how ever they could.

But it seems they left quite the bloody mess...or at least Freddy did, given the red stains on his teeth.

You approached him, stopping only to point at the half-eaten body. He seemed to recognize your expression as the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look, and his ears flattened in slight shame.

If only he could talk to you so he could explain himself..

Before you could give him an order, the doors creaked open, and you both turned around to see Bonnie, Foxy, and Chica slowly filing into the room.

Each of them dragged in their own brutally-slain victim, the intruders he must have been talking about:

Bonnie brought a man who had blood oozing from his mouth, palms covered in the same sticky substance.

Using his bloodstained hook, Foxy struggled to carry the weight of a younger man covered in deep gash marks and bite wounds on his head.

And in Chica's grasp was another man whose face had been chewed off by her Cupcake--arguably the most brutal way a person could die.

All at once, they stopped and dropped the corpses to the ground, staring at you and awaiting further directions.

You assessed each one before turning just your eyes towards the wall where you often sat deactivated, pointing to the various suits laying there.

Immediately, they knew what to do, and you also got to work helping them hide the "evidence" and making these intruders part of the band.

Forever and ever

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 3

Hello! If you haven't seen it yet, I've got a set schedule for what story posts on what days now (as seen here) and this one as well as Well Met By Moonlight, Batshit Soulmates, and Never Hold Back Your Step... will still be posting just on rotation until I can finish some of my WIPs. (I may be stretching myself a bit thin having six going at the same time.)

In this one we have the concert. Eddie stumbles on something big and doesn't know how to deal with it all. And Uncle Wayne is bestest as always.

@emly03 @redfreckledwolf @itsall-taken @rozzieroos @mira-jadeamethyst

Part 1 Part 2

****

The day of the concert dawned abhorrently cheerful and bright. Not a cloud in the sky or any accidents that would prevent Eddie from having to take Dustin to this event. He wouldn’t deign to call it a concert. He had heard the album and seen their posters, but he refused to wander over to YouTube and watch videos of their concerts, interviews, their music videos.

He didn’t want to be even more disappointed that they were all flash and no substance then he was sure he was going to be for the next two hours.

Dustin rolled his eyes when Eddie parked in the huge concert parking lot.

“You’re just salty because I like them as much as I like Corroded Coffin,” he huffed getting out the car. “You have to concede that Abaddon’s vocals are killer.”

Eddie scoffed. “Do not. I haven’t heard them live. Way too many artists use autotune too much these days.”

“You sound like that meme,” he sneered, “‘Old Man Yells at Cloud’.”

Eddie swatted at him playfully. “Am not.” Dustin raised his eyebrow skeptically and he threw his arms in the air. “I’m not. I am a very serious musician, Dusty. The last thing metal needs is some band that can’t write or even play their own instruments. This isn’t pop.”

“You are such an asshole,” he said and turned toward the entrance, leaving Eddie to jog to catch up with him.

Eddie sighed and put his arm around Dustin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I am being an asshole. I turned into the person I swore I would never be. Those shit for brains critics that hated Corroded Coffin when we first got on the scene. And that was wrong of me.”

Dustin sighed, too. “I just want you to like them too. They are so good if you’d just give them a chance.”

Eddie breathed out through his nose. “Yeah. I can at least give them that.”

They got to their seats and Eddie was a little impressed at Claudia Henderson’s Ticket Master foo. They weren’t front row, but they were only a couple of rows back so you could actually see the stage without having to strain their necks and smack dab in the center of the row.

Dustin would have the best time. And now it was up to Eddie not ruin it for the kid. Because yes, he was still a kid as far as Eddie was concerned. Twenty-one was so fucking young. That was how old most of the band was when they got their record deal, after all. They weren’t prepared for what came next, that’s for sure.

They got settled into their seats and Eddie watched as the rest of the crowd shuffled in. They were all about Dustin’s age with very few exceptions in either direction.

There seemed to be a color theme going on with the girls in the audience though. They were grouped in clumps of red, black, blue, or white. Which made sense if each band member stuck to a certain color palette.

Well he was about to find out, he supposed.

The lights dimmed. The crowd quieted down. The spotlight lit up the drumkit first. And Eddie knew that Gareth would be drooling over it. It was all black with black metal fittings. The kit seemed to collect light almost like a blackhole.

Then from the ceiling, a man dressed all in black being lowered onto the stage with large black raven wings on his back. He wore a black hooded coat over what, Eddie couldn’t tell. It was all black. The shirt, the pants, the boots. Even his mask was all black with even the eyes appearing closed. His feet touched the ground and the crowd went wild.

“Azrael!” the announcer called out.

Azrael settled on the throne and picked up black drum sticks.He counted time above his head and played a wicked solo to the adoring crowd’s absolute delight.

Dustin jumped up and down, screaming.

The spotlight moved to the right side of stage and the next band member descended from the ceiling. Large bat wings adorned his back and he was dressed in red leather fetish gear. Complete with tight leather pants that looked painted on and a matching harness highlighting his bare chest, peeking out from the red leather hooded coat.

His guitar was fucking gorgeous, though. A Warlock, much like Eddie’s own. It was custom painted red with black flames licking up the neck.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but it seemed he was the only one who thought the whole thing was over the top judging from the screams from the girls in the audience.

He didn’t just land gently on the stage like the drummer did, oh no. He fucking stomped onto the stage with a howl.

His wings, like the drummer’s ascended back into the rafters as the announcer shouted, “Asmodeus!”

And then Eddie really did roll his eyes. The demon of lust. Of course he was.

But seconds later Eddie’s jaw dropped to the floor as the man wailed on his guitar driving the crowd further into the frenzy.

Once he finished his solo the crowd quieted again and he could see why. Because just then, descending on gossamer wings that shimmered like starlight, was their bassist.

Everything about him was midnight blue and shimmering like the night. His mask was the face of the moon. He had his own hooded coat, but it was like the night sky, with some kind of crystal or gem sewn in to make the coat glimmer like stars.

His bass was something that Brian would have sold his own mother for and they were as thick as thieves. Eddie didn’t know much about basses considering his sweetheart was an electric guitar, but he could tell it wasn’t expensive but was perfect for his style. A style he showed off with gusto to the audience’s obvious delight.

“Astraeus!” the announcer cried.

Eddie decided that this one was his favorite. It played up the whole mysterious thing without the over the top flash of the guitarist or the sheer void of the drummer.

The audience hushed as the three members of the band began to play what was clearly the lead singer’s entrance music.

And holy fuck was Eddie screwed. This man was descending like a fucking angel sent from God, Jesus pose and all.

He was all in white with an opaque lace mask that had his mouth and chin cut out for him to sing. That surprised Eddie somewhat. He figured that the guy would have his whole face covered like everyone else in the band and that he could lip sync.

But nope. Apparently no one in this band did anything by halves.

The lead singer was wearing a sheer mesh crop top under the hooded floor length coats the whole band was wearing. Only his was white with a silk powder blue lining.

Eddie winced in sympathy. They must get boiling under the lights with those things on.

A few feet from the stage floor there was an explosive pop! And the feathers from his wings flew out into the crowd who was now screaming as if their life depended on the sheer volume coming out them. He looked over at Dustin who was no different.

When Eddie could see the stage again, this angel’s wings were now skeletal and gothic.

He landed in front of microphone whose stand had been decorated with a scarf in each of of the band members’ signature colors.

“Abbadon!” the announcer yelled for the final time.

And Eddie was in love. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Dustin must have seen his expression because he was suddenly tugging on Eddie’s arm and screaming, “I told you!!”

“Indy!” Abbadon growled, grabbing the mic. “Thank you so much for having us! Let’s get this started.”

Then he began to sing and yeah, Eddie knew that the guy had charm, but this was a whole new level of epic. He was enthralled.

He didn’t utter a fucking word for several songs. But then it happened. Eddie couldn’t believe it. He hurried to snap a picture to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

But there it was it in living color. He turned to Dustin to see if he saw it too, but the kid was too busy screaming and jumping up and down.

Eddie’s jaw fell.

That couldn’t be right, couldn’t it? That Dustin didn’t know? Eddie looked back up on stage and a lot of the puzzle pieces started slotting in place. His heart sank a little.

He shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts. He didn’t know the reason for any of this and leaping to conclusions would only get a shit ton of people hurt. Especially the boy next to him.

Eddie let the music wash over him. Let the magic of metal soothe his soul. Soon he was jumping up and down and headbanging with the rest of the crowd. Right hand flashing the devil’s horns, left hand out to steady himself he let himself enjoy the band’s stage presence.

****

To say that Eddie’s mind was fucking blown would be an understatement. He pestered Dustin all the way home with rapid fire questions. Where did the band tour last time? What was their schedule this time? Was it a six month tour or an eighteen month tour last time?

Dustin answered each question with growing excitement, thinking that Eddie had finally grown to love this band as much as he had.

Eddie on the other hand felt a growing sense of dread. Well... maybe dread was the wrong word. It was certainly a sinking feeling. One he really had to exam closely.

At least he could honestly say that he fell in love with the music before he found out his little secret.

And fuck what a secret it was.

He dropped Dustin off at home and drove out to the ranch that he had gifted to Wayne when Corroded Coffin first made it big. It was a beautiful, sprawled out home surrounded by acres of land and Eddie loved it even more than Wayne did.

Eddie stumbled through the door and was surprised to see Wayne drinking hot chocolate and reading a sports magazine in his expensive recliner. And yet, at the same time, not really that surprised.

“You do realize I’m no longer that fucked up kid with anger issues,” Eddie huffed on his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, “that were almost as bad as the troubles with the law, right?”

Wayne chuckled. “Maybe so. But you’re still my boy and I’ll keep worrying about you until the day I die.”

Eddie popped open the can of beer and sat down on the sofa. He leaned his head back on the back cushion with a heavy sigh.

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “What’s stewing around in that head of yours?”

Eddie slowly raised his head. “What would you do if you accidentally found out something about a friend that they were keeping from everyone they knew?”

Wayne set down his magazine. “That would depend on the secret. Is it hurting anyone?”

“Is what hurting anyone?” Eddie asked. “The secret?” Wayne nodded and Eddie frowned, really thinking about it.

“Maybe some feelings,” he said after a moment. “But it’s not dangerous like they committed a crime or anything. It’s not even about their sexuality.”

Wayne hummed thoughtfully. “And is it a big secret or a little one?”

Again Eddie was forced to think hard about what that meant. “I guess it depends on the person, but in my eyes it’s pretty big.”

The elder Munson nodded. “Do you feel hurt by this secret?”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.” He bowed his head and let out a shuddering breath.

“Is there a reason you think he wouldn’t have told you?” Wayne pressed.

“Of course no–” Eddie stopped as his brain caught up to his mouth. “Shit.”

Wayne raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Eddie admitted shyly. “There’s a pretty good reason why he wouldn’t have told me. And now I feel like the shit friend.”

Wayne stood up and pulled Eddie into a big hug. “Maybe so, but you have the time to course correct and show this friend that you are worthy of his secret.”

Eddie nodded. “Thanks, Uncle Wayne,” he mumbled into Wayne’s neck.

“I’m just glad I could help.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[sanemisstalker]

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter two: the arrival

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!SHIElD!reader

masterlist

summary: being a SHIELD agent, you have a knack for analysing people, particularly when it comes to attraction. you have everyone figured out, sorted away into the boxes you've created. But there's one man you can never seem to figure out, the very bane of your existence -- Bucky Barnes. On the field, he is a saint, helping you dodge bullets and taking knife wounds in your name. Around the building? Public menace number one, always poised to insult or to spar with you.

After being sent on a 6-month-long torture-cum-vacation with the very man, could all this change? Could you finally figure out what has been bubbling beneath the surface for years between the two of you, the juggernaut that you know you cannot stop?

warnings:  language, heavy mentions of sex, brief and non-specific mentions of Bucky’s past

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @cjand10 @mcira

PREVIOUS PART

A/N: so excited for you guys to read! sorry ive been MIA recently -- the first half of august will be extremely stressful for me as I have my drivers theory test on the 10th, then I find out if I get into uni on the 15th, hopefully all goes well but you never know!! so for that reason, I haven't been able to write much since posting the first chapter, so updates might be every 2 weeks or so! im so sorry </3, but as always, please let me know how you're finding the story!!!!

The wedding band offers you a strange comfort as you twist it around and around your fingers, staring out of the window of the private jet. It’s a simple golden band, with your initials and Bucky’s engraved onto the inner edge. You hate it, but are too ashamed to vocalise it. It was less than a week ago that you were sobbing on the floor about pretending to be married, and now the wedding band, his initials rubbing against your skin on the inside of it gives you solace?

Bucky notices, because of course he does. He moves to sit directly in front of you, and you turn to him. Officially, the two of you are on the clock now, and so you keep your face impassive, instead of scowling or staring angrily at him. He leans back in his seat, shoving his hands into the dark leather jacket you’re all too familiar with, slouching. He’s wearing jeans the same colour as his eyes, and a red henley that’s just peeking through the top of the jacket. Average, suburban white guy, with a bit of New York flair. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.” He states simply, like it’s the most abhorrent fact he’s ever had the displeasure of narrating. You nod, trying your best to not let a snarky remark sneak past your lips, currently coloured in a sheer red. 

“I don’t want to get sick of you too soon. It’s the longest we’ve ever been on any mission. You remember Bucharest, right? How we were almost at each other’s throats in two weeks, and because of us poor Sam spent a week in the medbay? I don’t want that to happen again.” He glances down at the memory, as if humiliated by the outcome of that mission. You know you are — you still check Sam’s hands to see if he’s still healing. You assume he’s done with talking to you and turn to stare back out the window, admiring the green fields and fluffy clouds.

“I understand. But that means we haven’t talked about anything. Like our cover story, how I proposed. Or how affectionate we’re going to be with each other.” 

“Well, you’re still going as James Barnes, aren’t you?” Realistically, you should’ve said The Winter Soldier. That’s what you mean, and he knows that. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to remind him of everything he’s trying to escape from. It seemed to be an unspoken boundary between the two of you, that you’ll never throw that title in his face, especially when you’ve seen the way he retracts from society and begins to shake in his seat at those three words, regardless of who uses them. His past, before you knew him, you decide to leave untouched. You couldn’t live with yourself if you belittled him and shamed him for things that happened to him, things that he was never in control of.

You’ve read the case files. You know the atrocities. You can’t do that to him. Even if he chose to cross that line, you can’t wound him in such a way, especially not for petty revenge. You want to annoy him, yes, but you don’t want him to truly ache irrevocably because of you. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

“Yes. And you’re still going as you?” You nod, gears turning in your head.

“We can say we met in Wakanda, and we were friends for 5 years. You were hopelessly in love with me the whole time, obviously. But I only started seeing you as more than a friend after… we went to a friend’s wedding together, and I didn’t have a partner so I dragged you along with me. When they exchanged their wedding vows, I realised that what you and I had was special, and that you’re ridiculously handsome. And the rest is history.” You shrug, hating that you’ll have to admit to his stupid, pretty face that he has a stupid pretty face.

“How’d you come up with that? You don’t really seem the romance type…”

You think for a moment, reabsorbing the insult that you almost fire at him. Is he implying that you’re a slut, again?

“Just because I’ve never been serious about anyone before, doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster, James. I’ve read books, and seen TV shows. I prefer romance, to remind myself that somehow, sometimes, men can be at least decent.” Your eyes bore into his then, silently expressing your anger. “And I’d really appreciate it if half of your insults toward me aren’t slutshaming. Keep it to yourself.” You can’t help it.

His eyebrows furrow, and somehow he looks even sexier. God, you hate how your sexual attraction toward him peaks when he’s civil with you. “What? I’ve never…”

“Yes you have, don’t lie. Almost every other sentence you say to me, you mention me sleeping around. Now, I don’t give a fuck what you think, but it’s beginning to get annoying. You wanna get your marks up? Find some new material.”

“Butterscotch, no. That’s—That’s not what I mean. You’re the only person I’m ever around who’s had so much sex, but it’s not a bad thing. Definitely not a bad thing. It just genuinely seems to me that whenever I see you, you’re always planning to hook up with someone. That’s why. I’m not shaming you for having sex, do whatever the fuck you want. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise, or if that’s why you hate me.” You’re constantly shifting between staring out the window, and at him, but when he apologises you can’t help but give yourself whiplash, wondering if he’s joking.

A million more questions circle your mind, and your anger flares up before you can stop it. You stand up, walking over to where he sits. He watches your face, as you grip the armrests and lean down so you’re uncomfortably close to him. He gets flustered so quickly, it’s another one of your favourite weaknesses of his to exploit. “You think that’s why I hate you? I hate you, because you’re an arrogant, self-centred bitch, who’s only ever treated me like shit.” In truth, he’s only arrogant and self-centred when it comes to you. To everyone else, he’s as sweet and humble as they come, and that’s what bothers you the most. 

That he’s chosen to have some personal vendetta against you from the very first night he met you, when you tried to be kind. You greeted him, smiled at him, bought him a vinyl player and limited edition vinyls from the 40s in mint condition for his fucking birthday, and all he ever was, was cruel to you. He scowled, he turned away from you. He all but threw your thoughtful gift across the room and fled from the birthday party.

That was your breaking point, when you decided that he’s not worth it. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was fresh out of Wakanda at the time, and you thought that maybe he was just having trouble reintegrating into society, what with the hell he’d been through. But then, you noticed the way he spoke to Nat with a wide smile on his face, how he loved to laugh with the other agents, and you noticed it was just you that he was still closed-off and horrid to. That’s when you began to be cruel, began to insult him and scowl right back, mirroring his expressions 

You’d never done it before then, but it felt so natural, so deserved. And then it had become second nature, as easy as blinking, or finding someone new to sleep with. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that you’d found yourself, for the first time, having strong and true romantic feelings for someone, and then he shut you down like that. How could you not? With a face like that, and an unwavering passion in those cobalt eyes, how could you not form some semblance of attachment? 

You briefly remember the way you’d acted around him, like a giggling schoolgirl who’s just dipped her toes into the dating world. How naive you had been, how foolish. It all just makes you grimace now, fuelling the flames of your hatred all that much more.

He searches your eyes, trying to dig beneath all the malice. As if you’d let him. He must know that to poke the bear is futile at this stage, because he decides to change the topic.

“And what about me proposing? How long have we been married? Where did we go on our honeymoon?” Your faces are so close…if he were half a decent person you wouldn’t leave any room for him to even breathe at this current second.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna carry all the braincells on this mission, Barnes.” You retreat back to your seat, slumping over yourself, trying to ignore all of the bitter memories that have just been dragged to the forefront of your mind. 

A brief silence descends over the two of you, and you swivel your attention once again to the landscape outside, buckling your seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that you’re about to land.

“One day, I asked you over to my apartment, on our three year anniversary. December 22nd. I cooked you your favourite meal, chicken biryani with that raita that you like, and red velvet cake for dessert. It was a candlelit dinner in my tiny apartment, with a red tablecloth the same colour as your dress. After the dinner I asked you to marry me, reciting stanzas and stanzas of prose about how beautiful and amazing you are, and how in love with you I am. Then, we made love until dawn, obviously.” 

A smile graces your face at his last words, at how innocent he appears when he refers to having sex as making love. The sentiment is sweet.

His seeming innocence catches you off guard at times — he’s been amongst all the agents and Avengers for eight years now, as opposed to your 13. The agents are always throwing themselves at him, especially those not into women, at all. You’ve often assumed he hooks up with most of them, seeing as Steve’s often recounted stories of what a charmer he was back in the 40s. And when he’s nice, you doubt anyone could resist him.

So why does he seem so new and inexperienced to most things? Another mystery you can’t be asked to solve.

“God, you’re just dying to have sex with me, aren’t you?” You tease, letting your grin  mould into something a little more sadistic, indicating that the thick, putrid air of a few minutes ago has passed.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, the story pretty much requires it.”

You nod in mockery. “Uh huh, of course. You pervert, we’re not going to tell anyone that. The idea of premarital sex will probably give half the kids in those suburbs a heart attack.” His eyes rake up and down your figure, and you give him your most salacious grin. You usually reserve it for men across the bar, when you catch them checking you out. It’s reserved for inviting them over for casual conversation and bathroom sex.

On Bucky? It flusters him to hell and back when he’s on the receiving end of it. Just like it is right now, as he tries desperately to hide the blush that’s spreading quickly across his cheeks. He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob against his throat in an almost predatory manner.

It’s in moments like these you’ve often thought about hate sex. Specifically with Bucky, about what it would be like to pull on his hair, to boss him around like you usually enjoy to. Would he listen to you? Or would he bark orders of his own at you, gripping at every inch of you desperately? But you’re scared, because he’s the first person to ever make you want to pursue them romantically, and you’re scared all the hate will melt away with every gentle yet scorching touch, leaving you vulnerable.

You hate being vulnerable.

“We’ve only been married a month, and we went to Spain for our honeymoon. We just got back two weeks ago to finish packing.” He completes, and it seems simple enough. You notice how his voice shakes ever so slightly, still influenced by the way you look at him, and the way he refuses to make eye contact. 

“Sounds good. We’ll stick with that then.” You offer, not bothering to look at him twice as you leave the jet and step into the family sedan that Bucky’ll be driving.

You sigh as you sink into the passenger seat in a car that smells too clean, staring out the window as if bored. You wonder if either of you will be able to not kill the other in these six months.

In your mind, you either fuck or fight it out. There’s no other way you’re emerging. 

You wonder which option he’d choose, studying him as he settles in beside you, so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s taken off his leather jacket and shoved it to the backseat, exposing his arms and—his left arm is no longer metal.

He catches you staring — he’s always looking for an excuse to stare at you. “Fury handed it to me after the initial briefing. It fits over my arm like a second skin, so it looks normal. I’m supposed to be trying to get back that normal life, remember? Fury said it’ll help disillusion and distance me from The Winter Soldier in these civilian’s minds.” Somehow, it sends a pang through your heart, still, at the way he’s trying to not lose his shit and start crying at even the thought that they’ll still see him as an empty weapon, a vessel for unimaginable evil. You soften.

“Here, let me drive — you just learned what a car was, like, six months ago. Plus it’s manual. I know Steve only let you learn automatic. Come on, stop being a bitch and switch with me.” You’re goading him, holding out your hand for the keys as he blindly stares at the console, trying to process how you know that fact about him. 

Steve and you are close, best friends even. That’s why. He turns off the engine and does as he’s told, mind probably currently too occupied with awful memories to register you’re being soft with him.

As you settle into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors as he stares down into his lap. “Besides, when you walk in there unarmed and without a murderous look on your face, they’ll know, James. It’s been years.” Your tone is too gentle, too gentle considering your history. But you can’t help yourself, and you let your hand gently touch his arm even though he won’t feel it. He looks up, and you see his eyes brimming with tears.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if they see right through me?” His voice is so small, unlike any tone he’s ever taken with you.

“It will. It will work, they won’t see right through you. If they know who you are, you know they followed your trial, your rehab in Wakanda. They know you were pardoned. And they’ll know when you treat all the kids with respect, because you’re good with them. When you help the seniors cross the road, when you help the sexy neighbour with her groceries. They’ll know, because you’re good. You have a good heart, and you treat almost everyone you know with nothing but love and affection. Just because I’m not on the receiving end of it, doesn’t mean I can’t see that. Trust your gut, James. It’ll all be fine. And if I can pull off being in love with you, they’ll definitely see it too. I’ll sing your praises to everyone in town, I’ll do everything to convince them if I have to. Because that’s the only way our cover will work. This is official business, James. This isn’t you and me around the Tower, or sparring in the gym. Just trust me here, okay?” You don’t know why you’re sympathetic, you don’t know why you care. You don’t know why you’re saying all of these things like you’re falling in love with him, all you know if that he’s falling apart and you have to try and stop it.

You have to try and be there for him, gripping his hand between both of yours, trying to offer a physical reminder that he’s in the car with you, not back in that horrid lab or in the sterile courtroom as some bald, red-faced lawyer tries to write him off as the most heinous cretin to disgrace this planet. You look at him and he looks at you and the tension is almost palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. You have no idea what’s happening to you.

“Okay.” He says quietly, his thumb stroking the side of your hands. Sam beeps the horn behind you, him and Steve posing as the movers and carriers you and James have hired. 

It startles you out of the moment, reminding you of your rapid heart, beating so fervently against the jail of your ribs that you feel it in your fingertips. You turn to the road ahead, signalling to the PARKER PACKERS AND MOVERS truck towing behind you. You swallow, hopefully taking any softness for Bucky along with it.

It’s going to be a long six months.

NEXT PART

[a-killer-obsession]

In Heat (Bonus Fic)

By jove, yall went and got me to 300 followers! Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart! As promised, here's the bonus followup to this fic, this time with Heat as the omega!

Prompt: Alpha/Omega + Breeding.

Additional Tags: she/her intersex reader, he/him intersex heat, omegaverse and all the usual that comes with it (marking, knotting, etc), friends to lovers, tiny recreational drug mention, mention of child mutilation in regard to intersex babies, transphobia but in a alpha/omega context?, dysphoria, breeding kink, praise kink, handjob, oral sex (giving), p in v sex, creampie, hurt/comfort

WC: 4k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

“Heat, calm down,” Killer soothed, “it was just a small fire, no biggy. It'll be fixed next island, you can just set up in the commander's lounge for now”

“You don't understand!” Heat pulled at his hair as he paced, “my suppressants were in there!”

You watched as poor Heat nearly wore a line in the floor with his anxious pacing, after accidentally dropping a lit joint on his bed and setting fire to the comforter, along with half the room. Nobody got hurt thankfully, and the damage was minimal really, but his bed and side table had been heavily burned along with their contents. It wasn't a widely known fact that Heat was an omega, he presented like an alpha male, his closest friends were alphas, and with the suppressants masking his scent nobody ever questioned whether he was an alpha. Heat was actually a rarity, a genetic mix between sperm that wanted to be male and an egg that wanted to be an omega, a combination that would not usually result in a viable fetus, resulting in what many people would consider a freak, which meant he fit right in with the Kid Pirates.

Even rarer still was that he was intact, you knew this because you'd heard him speak about his cock piercings. Usually omegas like him were forcefully mutilated at birth to remove the ‘unwanted’ penis, an abhorrent practice that his parents had thankfully disagreed with. You hadn't seen Heat naked but you knew what his kind of omega looked like intact, he had a vaginal opening and female reproductive system, but instead of a clit he had a penis and no testicles. His body presented during puberty as a strong alpha male despite the omega cycle and scent, and while most omegas in his situation went by she/her, Heat identified as a man and went by he/him.

This contrasted with yourself, as an intersex alpha. It was something you and Heat bonded over, both being a rarity as well as identifying against the social norm. When you were born you looked by all accounts like a standard male, and when your scent glands began to develop it was clear you were an alpha. So when puberty hit and your body had filled out to smooth curves, your breasts had grown large and your skin and hair had stayed soft, it was a great dismay to your proud alpha father. The treatment of intersex alphas was far less problematic than the omega counterpart, since it didn't present till puberty, but most of your kind would be forced into unwanted top surgery and hormone replacement so they could fit society's image of what an alpha should be. You'd never really felt like a boy though, so you quickly started identifying as a woman and ended up running away from home at fifteen to avoid your father who was growing more threatening by the day. By law, as a minor at the time, he could have forced you to get the surgery and treatment against your will, so leaving was your only safe option. You skipped between pirate crews for several years until you met Heat and bonded over your similarities, joining the Kid Pirates and their band of freaks (affectionate) that made you feel so comfortable and loved regardless of your presentation.

“Just ask some of the girls for meds,” Kid huffed, “I don't see the issue here”

“They have a different kind to me,” Heat pouted, he hated being reminded of his differences even if his friends didn't care about them, “I'm not… normal… nobody has the right kind for me”

“How long do you have?” You asked carefully, grabbing his hand as he passed to still him and soothe him with gentle swipes of your thumb over the back of his hand, pushing out calming pheromones that made him shiver but lowered his heart rate. You were the only one he was okay with doing this, it made him feel emasculated when the other men did it, but if it was you it just felt affectionate, just a friend calming a friend, not an alpha subduing an omega.

“Till morning, probably,” he sighed, looking at where your hands met and letting your scent soothe him, “I usually take them at night so I'll probably go into pre-heat while I'm asleep”

“So pick an alpha,” Kid rolled his eyes, bored of this. He didn't really understand what the issue was. Omegas go into heat, alphas take care of them, what's the fuss? “I don't want you clawing at my door when you're out of your mind, pick someone while you're coherent”

“He's right, Heat,” Wire agreed, “there's no avoiding it. You're gonna go into heat one way or another, you can either beg one of us when you're not in your right mind and probably regret it after, or just give in and let one of us take care of you. It's just nature, you know none of us are gonna think less of you for it”

Heat groaned in annoyance but he knew they were both right. He didn't want to be in pain on his own for three days, he had four friends all willing to take care of him, he just had to swallow his pride and pick someone. Looking down at where your hands were still connected, the choice was easy, and he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you said softly, immediately accepting his wordless request. It didn't come as a surprise, you had a feeling letting one of the men service him would make him hate himself afterwards. It was different with you, you understood his insecurities better than they ever could. “You wanna build your nest and stay with me tonight?”

He nodded shyly and sat beside you, finally calmed from his anxious episode. You let out more soothing pheromones and he let his torso fall against you, your fingers scratching his scalp reassuringly. “It's gonna be okay Heat, I'll take care of you” He hummed in response and let you rub his arm, giving in to the comfort you offered.

“I'll bring water and food to your room while he's building his nest,” Killer offered and you nodded in affirmation.

“Come on Heat, no time like the present,” you sighed, pushing him to stand. He let you lead him quietly to your room where you opened a cupboard full of scented nesting materials for him, rubbing his back reassuringly before helping him move the things he pulled out to the bed. You were well set for omegas, probably the most prepared of all the alphas on board, as the other girls all felt most comfortable with you during their heats. They still went to the others on occasion, but you were the one to go to if they craved softness. You even had a mini fridge and your own bathroom to easily take care of any needs while you were locked away with them, as did the other alphas on board, Kid, Killer and Wire.

Heat looked depressingly defeated as he arranged soft blankets and pillows in the corner of the room where you'd pulled out the small mattress that lived under your bed, building a protective, comforting nest in the corner, letting his instincts take over as he chose colours and textures that appealed uniquely to him. You dared not interrupt, nest building was sacred for omegas, but you sat nearby on your bed, so he knew you were there in support if he needed you. Killer brought up food and water for three days and you thanked him, setting it in the fridge and bidding him farewell before locking the door. It would be several days before either of you emerged, and keeping it locked with the seastone latch ensured no other alphas would catch his scent and go into a frenzy to get to him. Mostly Kid, he had a sensitive nose and very poor impulse control, and it had led to a few very physical fights between alphas before locks had been installed. An alpha under the influence of an omega's heat scent could fight to the death if it came to it to protect the omega, and it could get very ugly, very quickly.

He curled up in the nest with a sigh as he deemed it complete, looking up at you with forlorn eyes and reaching out one hand. You slid into the nest beside him, letting him nestle into you so his face was buried against your scent gland, your arms wrapped protectively around him.

“Are you gonna mark me?” He asked nervously.

“No, I'm not,” you assured him. Alphas were known to take advantage of omegas during their cycles, forcing claiming bonds onto them when they weren't in the headspace to deny it. “I'm not an aggressive alpha, I won't do that to you”

“What if… what if I want you to?” He asked softly. The question took you by surprise.

“Heat baby, just because you're having a cycle doesn't mean you need an alpha all the time,” you cooed, “you're so strong and independent, you're okay on your own. If you want me to claim you, I will in a heartbeat, you know how much I care about you. But I don't want you asking for it just because you're feeling vulnerable right now. If you still want it after your cycle, I'll give it to you, but not right now”

“Okay,” Heat mumbled sleepily as you pulled a blanket over the two of you, feeling more comfortable now at your assurances. Eventually you were able to get him to sleep, Heat making no complaints as you pumped out soothing pheromones to lull him, keeping him calm while his own scent reeked of anxiety and distress. You felt for him, what he was about to go through was a detriment to his entire identity and would no doubt leave him feeling ashamed and dysphoric once it was over. All you could do was keep him calm, take care of him through his heat, and hope you would be able to emotionally support him properly afterwards.

⋆★⋆★��★⋆★⋆

Heat was living up to his name when he woke you the next day, sweating from how scorching hot his skin was, his scent ripe with pheromones and making your mouth unconsciously water. Your teeth clamped together on instinct, biting at air as you inhaled the thick scent and tried to get your wits about you. Heat was clawing at your clothes, trying to undress you before your eyes were even properly open, his own clothes already shed and his cock painfully hard. “Need~” he whined, “need you”

“It's okay Heat, I've got you,” you cooed, pushing him onto his back and kneeling between his thighs, even as you still blinked the sleep from your eyes. You stifled a yawn and shook your head, trying to shake the heaviness of sleep, while Heat spread his legs and squirmed, slick already dripping from him and dampening the blanket underneath him. The sweet smell of it was so alluring, your dick twitching to life. You leant down and wrapped one hand around his cock, making him yelp from how sensitive he was despite your gentleness. You held it out of the way as you pumped him slowly, bringing your mouth to his cunt and pressing your tongue inside him where you knew he needed you. You'd never serviced an intersex omega but you could only assume that it would be the same as the girls, but instead of a clit you had a cock to stimulate. It was still a two part affair as it was with full female omegas, so you were confident you could make him feel good. Perhaps even better than the females, since you had experience with your own cock.

Heat moaned and pulled at your hair as you thrust your tongue in and out of him, clear precum dripping from his cock. Much like a full male alphas after a vasectomy, intersex omegas could cum, but without testicles their release was mostly clear and unable to impregnate, ensuring they could not accidentally impregnate themselves. You ran your thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum down his shaft and using it to lubricate him as you pumped at a rate that matched the speed of your tongue. You knew he couldn't be properly satisfied without being knotted, but you felt more comfortable getting him off at least once first so you knew you wouldn't hurt him when you did penetrate him.

It didn't take long at all for him to cum, so very pent up and needy, slick gushing from his pussy and coating your tongue as you swallowed it down with a groan, rutting your cock into the blankets below at the sweet taste that was unique to him as his own cock spilled ropes of thin liquid, dribbling over your knuckles and wetting his pale blue public hair. “Good boy Heat,” you cooed, licking him and your hand clean, making kitten licks up his still hard cock, your dick throbbing at the sight of him wet and squirming, desperate for your knot.

“Br-hnng-bre-ed me-e,” he stuttered, reaching for you, an arm draped over his eyes, unable to bring himself to look at you as he made the request.

“I'll give you what you want baby,” you purred, rubbing your hands over his thighs, “you wanna do it like this or you wanna roll over?”

Heat whined and rolled onto his front, arching his back and sticking his ass in the air to present it to you the way his instincts told him to. Right now he was at their mercy, and they were screaming submit, submit, submit. “Good boy, Heat, you're doing so good,” you assured, rubbing his back as you pumped yourself a few times and lined yourself up, “gonna give you what you need now kay?”

“Please,” he cried, backing himself into you to force you sink into him faster, making you let out a small hiss while he moaned at the feeling of being filled, “need it, need your knot”

“I know Heat,” you held his hips firm but not painfully hard as you began thrusting into him, “gonna make you feel better okay? Just hold on a little longer, I'll be as quick as I can”

“Use me,” he whined, “use my hole, breed me, knot me”

“Fuck, Heat,” you moaned. You were used to omegas saying filthy things during their cycle but to hear it from Heat, a man so much larger and stronger than you, was sending electricity straight to your dick. “Good boy, such a good boy, taking me so well”

Heat was balling the blankets below him into tight fists, throwing himself back at you to set a much harsher pace than you intended, forcing you to fuck him much harder. You leaned forward and reached around him, making him almost scream as you took his cock in your hand and pumped it at the same rough pace, quickly putting him over the edge and letting out a shrill cry that the whole ship no doubt heard as he came, shooting ropes of clear fluid over the blankets and dripping slick in a near constant flow that ran down his thighs and pooled at his knees. His cunt clamped down around you and you moaned as you felt your knot swell, panting hard as it popped and you unloaded inside him, Heat kneading at the blankets like a cat and purring as you filled his cunt with a heavy load of hot viable cum. After his heat he'd be given a tonic to keep him from falling pregnant, but for now you would continue to fill him as much as you physically could till he was sated and his body deemed him properly bred.

“Good boy Heat,” you panted, rubbing his back, “you did so good baby, I'm gonna move you now okay? We're gonna go to your left so you can lay down while I deflate, alright?”

Heat whined as you guided him to lay on his side, wrapping your arms around him and pressing kisses against his back. You heard the whimper of a cry as his scent turned foul with sadness, and you replied with your own soothing scent. “You're okay baby, you're okay,” you cooed, squeezing him tight, “you're no less a man, okay? This is just natural, you're just doing what your body needs. Just a few days and we'll get you your meds and you won't have to do this again okay? Be brave my love, can you do that for me?”

Heat sniffed and his head shifted as he nodded, twisting his fingers to interlock with yours over his stomach as his crying came under control. As soon as your knot deflated enough to pull out you turned him to face you and held him close to your chest, a fresh wave of tears washing over him as he pressed his nose against your scent gland desperately to release more of your comforting scent. You rubbed his back and let him get the feelings out, your heart hurting to see him in such a sorry state.

Once his tears settled you convinced him to let you go, retrieving food and water for both of you and returning to the nest to hold him while he ate slowly, having not much appetite given his current depressed mood. You kept him close afterwards so he could fall back asleep feeling safe and protected, both of you needing to save your energy before the next wave of the heat came along.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

It was towards the end of day three, the room thick with the smell of sex, both of you exhausted and covered in bruises and scratches and love bites, Heat laying with his head on your chest as you sang quietly to him and scratched his scalp. You'd barely just removed your knot after the last round, cum still dripping from his overfilled cunt.

“I think it might be over,” he sighed with relief, “my head feels clearer”

“I'm glad,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand you'd been holding, “your skin feels like it's finally cooling, how are you feeling?”

“Sore, but content,” he breathed. His head moved to rest his chin on your breast, looking up at you with those perpetually sad eyes. “I think… I think I still want it”

“More sex?” You questioned, “like, just for fun?”

“I mean yes,” he blushed, “but… I mean… your bite”

“Ohhh,” you replied, “oh. You.. you want me? To be your permanent alpha?” Heat nodded shyly and sat up, pulling you with him. He bared his neck with a small needy whimper, and you hesitantly brushed his pale blue hair out of the way, heart racing. You'd never even considered claiming an omega. Intersex alphas were considered damaged goods, nobody wanted them. They were thought to be less viable, less strong, less capable of defending an omega and her young. You thought though, maybe Heat felt the same. This shared insecurity made your relationship with him stronger, made him more comfortable with opening himself up to be vulnerable with you. You could see the blood pulsing in his throat as he presented it to you, his scent gland slightly inflamed as an after effect of the heat, and you couldn't help but run your tongue over your sharp teeth.

“Please,” Heat whined, taking your hand and pulling you closer. You wove your fingers with his and held his hand, and he squeezed it hard as you sunk your teeth into his scent gland, your eyes rolling and your cock twitching back to life as you felt the bond ignite, not yet fully formed though. You licked the wound as you pulled your teeth out, baring your own neck and inviting Heat to lay his own claim. A bond from only an alpha's bite was still viable, often forced during a heat, strong enough on its own to make the omega dependent on the alpha. To allow the omega to bite back, to be vulnerable and allow them their own link to feel what you felt, was a great mark of respect, usually done between lovers. Heat eyes were wide with surprise, looking unsurely at your neck.

“Are you sure?” He asked nervously.

“Claim me, Heat,” you pulled him close, laying down so he was on top of you, giving him back his power, “I wanna be yours.”

Heat whined and kissed you hard, moving to straddle your hips and reaching down between your bodies so he could line himself up, your words and the fresh bond making him needy for you again, this time of his own free will. His hormones were no longer in control of him, he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Asking for your bite had been an act of self preservation, he didn't feel like he could ever feel so safe and loved with another alpha, so having you claim him ensured only you would ever take care of him if this ever happened again. With how sweet you'd been, he was considering ditching the suppressants all together, just so he could have you in his nest again. But you asking for his bite? It was practically a declaration of love, you may as well have proposed to him, and he was eager to return all of that affection in equal droves.

He swallowed your moans as he rode you, making love to you as you ran your hands over his body with gentle caresses, lost in his taste on your tongue and the feeling of his warm cunt embracing you. He only pulled his mouth away from yours to pant, both of you breathing heavily as you held each other tight and looked into each other's eyes, watching each other carefully, eyes deep and swimming with pools of love and devotion. His eyes closed for a moment as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I'm close,” he groaned, hips losing momentum as his energy dissipated. You held his hips and thrust up into him, your own energy lacking but unable to stop yourself, powering through to bring you both to one last climax.

“Heat, claim me,” you whined, baring your neck invitingly for him, pulling him to you. You both let out harsh cries as his teeth sunk into your neck and the bond came to fruition, joint pleasure compounding through the link and crashing into you both like a freight train. You called each other's names as you both shook and came harder than you ever thought possible, your stomach wet with threads of Heat's thin cum as it released from his cock, abdomen drenched as he squirted on you, your knot popping inside him and locking your bodies together as you saw stars and painted his insides white. He collapsed against you, very nearly crushing you with his large frame, both of you twitching from aftershocks, which in turn would be felt by the other through the link and set of another aftershock, a chain reaction that left you both panting and writhing till you were able to pull out of him and lay him beside you.

You could feel his love through the bond as you looked at him, his eyes closed and face relaxed with content, feeling safe beside you. You held him close, his arms wrapping tightly around you, warm tingling felt through the mental link as you ran soft hands over each other's bodies, both feeling more accepted and loved than you could ever dream.

[nyracel]

so i don’t understand what is *so* hard to get about the idea that rhaenyra being crowned as queen *peacefully* would’ve at least introduced the baby-step process that women can inherit the iron throne, even if it doesn’t automatically lead to absolute primogeniture and prompt benefits being established for -all- women.

book-wise we have one (ONLY one) inkling of how rhaenyra feels about the succession, and it’s that she doesn’t wish to alienate any more allies than she already had:

show-wise we have a vague and contradictory line of jace and baela’s sons inheriting the iron throne followed by luke and rhaena’s children inheriting the driftwood throne, which just seems like an inconsistency in the writer’s room, but why is that *such* an issue for those that support aegon’s claim to begin with? rhaenyra only has sons (biologically) at this point, so we really don’t know whether or not she would’ve named a daughter as her heir over a son, but this thought process derives from real history. eventually female heirs were allowed in certain circumstances but male children were *always* preferred (until recently). this still doesn’t change what her reign would’ve entailed had there not been war. rhaenyra is allowed to fight for the right her father granted onto her when she was 8 years old, aegon was not entitled to it simply because he was born with a penis and his mother raised him to believe that made him special.

jeyne arryn, one of her staunchest allies, point blank states what will happen to women heirs and ladies in their own right if the greens are allowed to repudiate the succession, because it’s something she -personally- had gone through:

“in this world of men, we women must band together,” the green council states that they cannot rely on the eyrie for support due to is presently being ruled by a WOMAN. they knew what this would mean for women moving forward.

if we were to look into the history of english monarchs the first (official) queen regnant of england was mary i, who ruled for five years, and didn’t make any changes to the rules of succession during her reign (any that involved gender, any battles she faced mostly had to do with religion). she was followed by her sister elizabeth i, who ruled for 45 years, and made no changes to the rules of succession. both of whom ascended as queen because there were no male relatives alive at the time, but each obviously proved that women were just as capable of men ruling, releasing at least some of the stigma surrounding that subject during their time alive. it wasn’t even until recently, during the reign of elizabeth ii (in 2013, specifically), that absolute primogeniture was enacted into law, ending the system of male-preference cognitive primogeniture. mary became queen in october of 1553, so it took 460 years for this change to occur.

rhaenyra is based off empress matilda, daughter of henry i, who would’ve been the first queen regnant of england had she not been challenged and deposed by her cousin, stephen of blois, in a war known as the anarchy; with it ultimately ending when a peace treaty was signed by both stephen and matilda, with her son henry ii named as stephen’s successor upon his death (which happened a year later). this war began in 1135, which was 878 years before the succession was formally changed and 418 years before england would actually see a queen on the throne. this is just to put it into perspective how one queen is not going to immediately enact change for the betterment of all women whilst attempting to rule an age-old abhorrent system, but saying that they had no bearing on succession laws and gender equality moving forward is wild.

not only did rhaenyra only reign for six months, she was in the middle of a civil war that had resulted in the deaths of four of her children (as far as she knew) at that point. among that the treasury had been depleted and sent to green loyalists, so she was taking over a country with virtually no money at hand. her reign was damned from the start, and her near broken mental state led her to make some bad decisions. from the beginning of her heir ship she was looked down upon for being a woman; her stepmother spread vile rumors about her virginity when was in her early teens, her sworn shield groomed and took advantage of her, her siblings were raised to hate her and view her as a threat to THEIR birthright and lives, her father was nigh on useless in protecting her against any of this due to his pacifist and pushover nature. she was usurped because she was a woman, and ultimately killed because she was a woman. denying the tragedy of her life is refusing to understand the deeper components of the story being told.

if women aren’t even able to hold offices of high power how is anything supposed to change for those in even worse circumstances? women didn’t gain semi equal rights by being silent and subservient to the men around them, they gained them by fighting back against the status quo; by marching, lobbying their politicians, lecturing those willing and unwilling to listen to their plight, causing civil disobedience, etc. we shouldn’t condemn those that do not have the will nor the ability to participate in these events, but refusing to understand their opposites and overtly criticizing how imperfect they are or blaming them for their suffering is not the way to go.

once again, rhaenyra is not a feminist, but she should be seen as a proto-feminist figure by us, the audience, for her will to stake her claim as the first woman to sit the iron throne. her usurpation and subsequent murder leads to the death of all dragons, a catastrophic consequence considering her parallels to the amethyst empress and the dire stakes at hand in regard to the second long night.

[louiswilliamtomlinsons]

the lack of empathy at this time is extremely concerning. i can’t believe people have to explain that one can mourn AND be angry with liam at the same time. i just saw an extremely vile post that said “you can’t make me feel bad for laughing at a dead abuser,” and i feel so???? concerned?? and just confused as to how someone can think so black and white? i can’t believe i even have to say this, but i don’t condone liam’s behaviors whatsoever, but upset and mourning is a normal response in a situation like this.

yeah, i saw the post you’re talking about. it made me feel sick.

i feel deeply for maya and i find the fact many are blaming her abhorrent. i really hope she has a good support system and knows that she’s not to blame, that she had a right to speak up about the abuse she suffered. i hope she heals from everything she had to go through from a young age.

i’m mourning liam because i love this band with my entire heart. i’m mourning him because i know him, alongside the others, were exploited and abused by the music industry, the one that should have protected them, from such a young age. i’m mourning him because he struggled deeply with addiction and he never got the chance to recover. i’m mourning him because he was open about his struggles. i’m mourning him because he never got the chance to truly take accountability for his actions, work toward becoming a better person and heal so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else, including himself. i’m mourning because his son lost his parent, his parents lost their son and his friends lost their friend.

feelings are complicated and complex and many things can coexist at the same time. life isn’t black and white. i will never excuse his actions, but no matter what, he did not deserve to end the way he did.

[jollyreginaldrancher]

Gonna throw this random Yellowjackets theory around:

We know the girls did some abhorrent things to survive. And we know they have intense guilt, to the point where they refuse to talk about it and they are paranoid people will find out, almost like they're worried they'll go to jail if they found out but most of it is understandable. So far there's been no outright murder or anything like that.

And so far it's been ritualistic and accidental and as close to guilt free as possible so what are they so worried about?

Well, reading the little blurb on prime

"Wildly talented high school girls' soccer players descend into savage CLANS"

Multiple

What if that's a bit of a spoiler? What if there's a fissure and the group splits into multiple parties? More than just Coach Ben splitting off on his own? And what if they didn't just hunt down one pit girl but it was an all-out war between the two groups?

Natalie becoming the antler queen is bound to be polarising when she's spent the first two seasons alienated from the other girls by not only the massive chunks of time she has to spend isolated with Travis, but also her relationship with the guy that's been a shithead to everyone since day one.

We've already seen excerpts of Shauna's diary complaining that it wasn't her that got picked and we've seen her attitude with regards to most things. She's always had a sense of entitlement but she's surely not the only yellowjacket who isn't 100% on Natalie's side and will have reservations going forward about her leadership.

But more than that, there's already a bit of a hierarchy that's forming with certain characters being more valuable than others. The girls unanimously deciding Lottie can't die. Misty deciding Natalie won't die either. Taissa staying back and carrying Van home. The girls all banding together, making their sacrifices to keep Shauna from being killed during childbirth. Natalie and Taissa batting for Misty to keep her from getting a beating from Shauna.

There's a small insular community forming already with the main characters that doesn't seem to extend further beyond the mains. Not even to Jackie. Cause as much as you like someone and as loyal as you might be to them, what really matters the most out there is usefulness and on some level -maybe subconscious- the butcher and the medic and the hunter are people nobody really wants to risk, no matter how deep they are into the lore.

Anyway, it might be that or it might be something I hadn't even considered. It will probably be down to some controversial decision or maybe even perceived slights, but my theory is that the girls will split up into a second group and the traps are to hunt them down. That maybe when they get rescued there's still a chance of some more of them being out there but they sabotage their chance of rescue out of fear of them being exposed on how vicious things got and all the things they did not just to survive but to dominate the other clan.

Maybe that's why Natalie hides her face with shame from the reporters and blames herself the most. Because she feels it's her fault for being chosen, and starting off this chain of events. And because it wasn't just ritualistic cannibalism on the brink of death but a more active form of murder that they perpetrated out there against this warring clan of survivors led by someone like Mari or whatever. Maybe.

[fullyinconsequential]

Here’s a 3am Steddie rant I think every Steddie lover (and possibly hater) should hear. I have no goal to convert anyone—just to say that the ship did not actually “come from nothing.” Here’s why:

I don’t understand how there wasn’t Steddie foresight in the writer’s room.

So they play it up in season 3 like Steve just can’t get the girl and when he does she’s not the right girl and yada yada yada—cool beans. I love his character arc with Robin, their friendship, her queerness. I love their entire bathroom interaction.

Specifically: “It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school. Maybe cuz Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me, or I wouldn’t be prom king…. First of all, she’s hilarious. So funny. I feel like this summer I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she’s smart—way smarter than me…. She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Traits Robin Also Has that Eddie Shares:

Outcast

Band Kid

The Witty Banter

Eddie’s personality is VERY Robin. Not perfectly so, but maddeningly close.

Another point:

This is just the same person in different gender specific fonts, A.K.A. Steve’s “love interest” versus a guy who called him “big boy” completely unprompted and interrupted a tender moment between him and his “love interest” and complimented him for an entire scene while Steve wore his clothes.

So, really, one of them’s Steve’s love interest and the other is Nancy Wheeler /hj.

I write a lot, and as someone who both writes and consumes an abhorrent amount of media, whoever wrote this down, casted and costumed this way, and allowed for the interactions between Steve and Eddie to be as nuanced as they were (EX: the scene in which Eddie steps forward like he has more to say to Steve before he goes off and kills himself) had to have known what was going to happen. There is simply no way of not seeing it.

And if they didn’t want people shipping Steddie at the scale which they do, here’s what went wrong:

First: defaulting to Steve wanting his ex back is just plain shitty writing. It means you don’t know where to go with the character anymore, and since you’re certain he’s done all the growing he can do, he’s just gonna double back to the conflict he was in in the FIRST SEASON.

Are you serious right now, bro?

Steve’s arc as a character has been absolutely heartwarming to watch. If anything, he’d have been better off given the “I need to figure out how to be happy on my own” narrative. Throwing him back at Nancy is a cop out, a big one.

Second: Eddie. Throwing Eddie in the mix was absolutely a WILD decision, because he looks like Nancy, he banters like Robin, and GENDER IS NO LONGER A PLAUSIBLE REASON FOR AN AUDIENCE TO DENY CHEMISTRY, OR EXPLAIN IT AWAY. Not in the year of our lord 2023, no sir. Not unless you’re going to explicitly state in some way to an audience that these characters are DEFINITIVELY STRAIGHT. And with Eddie, they went as far off that course as possible.

The outcast stuff. The D&D stuff. The hatred of the system. The mysteriously living with his uncle and not his parents. THE HANKERCHIEF IN HIS BACK POCKET.

So essentially, this is what they did:

They took a beloved character, flubbed over his character arc because they weren’t sure what to do with it.

Then, they created a SECOND beloved character, made him likable, lovable, even, and relatable. Then they gave him half and half personality and looks of Steve’s last two love interests. Then they gave us scenes of them together where they showed chemistry, genuineness, and playfulness.

Then they EXPECTED that we as an audience had enough heteronormativity left as a society to say—oh, those two guys aren’t flirting with each other even a little bit because they’re two guys and obviously that doesn’t happen.

WHEN IN THE SAME SEASON WE WATCHED WILL AND ROBIN GO GAY PANIC AND DESPAIR LIKE?????

Pick a side pick a side, are your characters fucking gay or is your audience fucking blind?

Point being, I have some friends IRL who don’t really get this. They think Steve and Eddie hardly interacted enough for there to be romance at all, but I think it’s less about how much they interacted and more about the (unintentional) set up they were given by the writers.

Steve’s a truly beloved character and I don’t know on ST fan that wants to see him just end up back with Nancy Wheeler like his entire character arc was just to “get the girl” and “have six kids.” Which he already has by the way.

Anyway, that’s just my two cents. I’m not advocating for anyone to ship them, I’m just saying it’s honestly a perfectly logical conclusion to make, especially if you CARE about Steve as a character, you know? We want him to be with someone genuine, someone who challenges him to be better, to be different than he was. Nancy couldn’t handle doing that. Robin could, but they’re platonic af.

So why wouldn’t it be Eddie?

Rest in peace, by the way. You would’ve loved this text post.

[shinjisdone]

TSAWH - Askeladd's and Canute's impression of You

just a little brainrot since I've been wanting to write something more easy and lowkey

What Askeladd and Canute think of you male and female version TW: mentions of slavery and misogyny

Askeladd:

The man does not raise a brow at another young man joining his little band. He is already used to small brats thanks to Thorfinn so another one hopping in does not take the leader off guard at all.

He would, however, be intrigued by your attempts to befriend Thorfinn, involuntarily or not which can be either a good idea or a bad one. He does not really care what happens to you as long as you can fulfill his role as his chess piece. Still, part of him would be glad and perhaps even relieved to have Thorfinn find a friend in you. Vikings all cooperarate for one single goal in mind that usually ends up only done for the gain of oneself and never for the other. There are no real bonds when killing and pillaging so it eases Askeladd when he sees your genuineness and...kindness.

Now, a man having a heart? A kind heart? That's looked down upon, especially when it isn't expected of an viking. You'd be called a coward and not a real man, which Askeladd cannot defend you against and would even go along with insulting you, too, sometimes meaning and at times exeggarating for the sake of not being the sore thumb sticking out. Askeladd blames it first on you being young and simply wanting a friend but he mulls whether or not you might also be craving normalcy in this brutal world. You kill and take but are kind and considerate in a way that no one else here is for his peer. It's hypocritical but...relieving.

You both are young. Don't end up like him.

Another thing that is so relieving to see is the genuineness in all words and actions that he spies on you two exchanging. You accept Thorfinn and his thirst for revenge yet are not like him at all. Is that truly what a bond looks like? He doesn't know. All he knows is that the closest thing to a friend he has is Björn and he even he does not know everything about Askeladd - everything that he is - and would most likely not accept him like you are to the small blonde. Björn only clings to him, looks up to him because having another one like him makes him feel powerful. Misery loves company but it is too one-sided to truly feel like a friendship where vulnerability can bloom.

He doesn't have that but you do. And he envies it.

However, a woman being his bandmate? Hah! What are the odds?

As amusing as the sight all is, Askeladd secretely strongly dislikes you being here. Stupid girl, don't you know how utterly dangerous it is to be around such abhorrent Nordics? Barbarians that would not have an ounce of empathy in their cold, decayed hearts if something happened to you and if they are the perperators? You really think you stand a chance in this cruel world of vikings?

He'd often subtly throw you lines to discourage you and have you end up leaving for good. Go ahead, risk a life of slavery! Just go back from where you came from, to people who care about you, live a normal and peaceful life and then die there and not here on the battlefield! Askeladd genuinely believes you will just end up as fodder, as a corpse left to rot in a river, anything, anything that is below than whatever else vikings will face at the end. It is inevitable that you will suffer a worse fate even if no one knows what it might be.

And yet, he does not directly kick you out. You have a role after all that you need to fulfill as his chess piece and no matter how often he thinks that just tomorrow you might regret your decision of joining him or how often you remind him of his mother, the leader will not ever just let you go. His plan is too important and you are a valuable tool. He gets angry at how his own bandmates speak of women but he does throw out his morals and views to endanger you without hesitation. A hypocrit.

Well, at least Thorfinn keeps you safe - but even there he is a hypocrit. He does not believe that this dumbass of a kid truly understands how important it is to protect you and how he must do it - even when Askeladd is the one endangering you time and time again! In Askeladd's mind, Thorfinn does not enough, especially in any clever way, so he will also throw advice to him clad as insults. A true man must be ready to cut down anyone and anything to keep his loved one safe, betray any father and half-brothers and sail across the ocean to dig her grave in her home. Anything less is an offense and if the kid truly swears to want you by his side, then he better do everything better Askeladd had ever done for his mother.

Canute:

A man such as you is rare - or rather, peculiar. You kill but do not raid, you share companionship with the biggest brute he has ever seen and even though you have been ordered to guard him, you do so with genuine concern over his well-being. Even if it is pity as he feared, your behavior is still strange. No other viking would do so.

This leads to Ragnar being wary of you and therefore telling Canute to be wary as well. A man does not smile at royalty like this, there must be an underlying motivation. Blackmail, trickery, his own very plan to take him hostage, you name it. But Canute cannot believe it all. A strong person like you offering your hand with a smile while protecting him so dearly...it leaves him rather flustered. You are so capable it makes him think that your behavior is akin to that of an leader. Askeladd certainly got the brains for one but you hold a genuine worry over someone like him - someone you see as weaker and innocent probably but even so, he will take your outstretched hand. For none other looked at him like that but Ragnar, the only other man knowing love. Perhaps as a future leader, he should follow your example? It makes him yearn to be like you.

The prince would definitely make a face when he sees Thorfinn, with his thunderous glare and pout, and next to him stands a young woman. He'd definitely be more surprised here as well as Ragnar, but would not have the guts to question it. Instead, he sits in his corner and glimpses from the corner of his eye and slits of his helmet at you. He's seen vikings but not women being one of them. It leaves him curious but frightened. However, as soon as you save him as his knight does his entire opinion of you change. You become somewhat of an enigma but Canute throws all questions on why a person such as you even works for Askeladd and solely focuses on the soft kindness you've shown him. Like a lovesick boy he gains a temporary infatuation with you, connecting your sweet actions with that of the femininity you posses and might go overboard on what he imagines you to be versus who you truly are - it's nothing dangerous though. Little prince is no threat to anything yet, so he just looks up to you as something kind and loving. Something he wishes everyone was.

[hole34]

tumblr is awful i’m here for the fandom of one of my favourite bands can we NOT have that without the frearard freaks. please stop writing smut fanfiction about real people. please, they are real, please do not sexualise them so abhorrently. i’m all for appreciating cute band member moments but THEY ARE NOT YOUR OCS THESE ARE REAL, MARRIED, MIDDLE AGED HUMAN BEINGS